#but I can’t find the words or the balls to do it

[nymphoheretic]

Not Through Yet

Warnings: implied marathon sex, implied breeding, mentioning of pregnancy, unprotected sex, squirting, overstim, reader/MC passes out, praise, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), cum eating, caleb's arm has a useful feature (let me know if I'm missing anything)

Word count: 2.1k (I wrote this with my pussy on the keyboard)

A/N: This is straight smut all 2.1k of it and is kinda like a continuation of Unwanted Reunion, but can be read as standalone!

AO3

Network: @eveningatthemoviesnetwork

“C-Caleb, gunna cum...”

How many times have you said this sentence? How long has it been since Caleb pulled you from that interrogation room to his quarters on the Fleet’s ship to fuck you over and over, driving your body into overstimulation and making you so sensitive that the feeling of your own sweat rolling down your body was enough to make you cry out so wantonly. 

Every methodical drag of his cock through your gummy walls was enough to make your body tremble with another onslaught of shivers. You whimper when he turns your head to face his, lips finding yours and his tongue delving deep. Your pussy squeezes his cock just right, milking his balls of his seed as you drench his shaft in your creamy arousal.

“Go ahead. I’m right behind you, princess.” He moans so sweetly against your lips, a string of saliva still connects your tongues as he pumps his hips into your at a much slower pace than he had been. It was as if he was contradicting his words and prolonging your orgasm. The steady wet clap of his balls smacking against your sensitive, overstuffed cunt was almost enough to send you back spiraling.

Your back arches away from the bed, arms heavy from exhaustion as you lift them to wrap around his neck. “Can’t cum anymore, Caleb...s’tired...need t’rest.” His lips move to brush over your forehead as he pants out, hips still continuing their slow roll into yours. Caleb peppers kisses all over your sweaty forehead and down your cheek until he reaches your lips again. They were swollen from the many times he’s sucked them into his mouth, nibbled on them, just tasting your lips repeatedly. He couldn’t get enough of you. Caleb needed more of you. Feeding you his tongue to silence your whine, his left hand crawls down between your thighs and rubs slow, steady circles on your clit, working you up to another orgasm after the one you just had. “You got plenty in there for me, right? Yes, you do. C’mon~ Give me what I want, sweetheart.” Caleb coaxes gently, yet his tone was still even. Like he wasn’t being affected by the sheer overstim he was putting you both through.

You moan as your cunt releases its juices quickly over the thrumming of your clit pulsing under his fingers as he plucks at it like a finely tuned instrument. Your slick dribbles out, running down the crack of your ass to join the large, growing wet spot under you, drenching the sheets. “Fuck! Caleb! I can’t anymore!” Caleb simply curls his arms around your head, caging you in as his hips pick up in speed, the lewd schlick of your velvet heat taking his cock ringing out in the room. He couldn’t stop; wouldn’t stop. Not until you were swollen with how much of his cum he’s pumped inside you. Not until he’s gotten his fill of you. Until he’s gotten in a year's worth. But even then he wouldn’t be satisfied. Caleb craved you; vowed to always be there for you; to always protect you. And that’s what he was going to do.

He drags his cock through your slick walls, grunting at the way your walls cling to his shaft and trying to suck him back in deeper. A chuckle vibrates in his chest tingling down your lips as he suckles your tongue briefly before letting go. His thumb comes up to break away the thin string still connecting your lips, smearing it over yours as he smirks down at you. “That’s not what she’s saying.”

His hips snap into yours, thick cockhead battering against your cervix, kissing at the entrance to your womb. Sweat rolls down the side of his face, the clear droplet hanging from his chin until it splatters down onto your collarbone. “She is squeezing me so tightly, little one. It almost makes it hard to keep thrusting.”  He brings his bionic arm up to his lips and licks the tip of his middle and ring fingers, coating them in his saliva. “My hand also has a special feature I thought about just for you.”

You gasp when the cold digits touch your hot flesh as he trails them down your belly, a gentle vibration skimming across your skin. “Caleb, what?” You look down at his hand and see the fingers whirling and humming as they shake softly. Your head falls back against the pillows as your back arches away from the bed, hips pressing more into his as his fingers touch your clit. “Fuck! That’s feels...ah~” Your words are cut off in another fevered moan as Caleb rubs slow circles around your throbbing nub.

Caleb smiles sweetly, eyes full of affection, desire, and need as his cock batters against your womb, vastly contracting against his sweet words as his fingers vibrate on your clit. His lips find your sweaty forehead, tongue slipping out to collect the droplets of sweat to taste the salt of your skin as he presses tender kisses. “You used to always like when I did this~” His fingers press harder against your throbbing nub, the buzzing from the vibrations sending the neurons in your brain alight as your body bucks.

“Oh my god! Caleb!” Your voice comes out in a loud cry as your tears fall faster down your cheeks as the sting of overstim settles in your bones. Your clit twitches violently under his touch as your pussy clamps down tightly on his girth. You manage to jerk your legs away from your chest to wrap them tightly around his waist. “You’re gonna make me cum again. Oh, please?!” “Please?” He repeats in a teasing mockery mimic of your voice as his free hand comes to cup your jaw, his chest pressing into yours and making your overly sensitive nipples rub against his sweat slick skin and making you cry out even louder. He could feel the way your walls quiver around him. “Come on, little one. Stop being stubborn and let her wet me up again. You know you want to.” the vibrations quicken as he turns your face towards his, his tongue dipping out to curl into your mouth and swallows your screams.

Your back arches violently, nails of one hand digging into the sheet under you as the other rips through the flesh of his back. You feel him hissing against your lips as your dig your nails deeper into the muscles of his face, pussy clenching tightly around his shaft as your juices leak out of you like a faucet. The spray of hot liquid drenches his lower abdomen, thighs, pelvis, and drips down his shaft to soak up his balls. Cooling droplets roll down the crack of your ass before joining the pooling wet spot underneath you.

His grunts morph into moans as his hips studder, your slick walls massaging and trying to milk his cock for his seed. “Fuck...she’s clamping down on me so tightly. She must really be hungry for my cum? You want me to cum inside you. To fill you up and fuck it deeper before cleaning you up with my tongue, princess?” Caleb’s lips curl into a sweet smile when all you could do was let out babbles and broke pleas of his name. 

“Yeah? Say my name.” His left hand trails down your neck to your belly, fingertips swirling over the small bulge his cock was making. “Feel me right here, princess?” Caleb teases, making you whine out and tighten your legs around his waist. A chuckle vibrates through his chest as he leans back in and presses the sweetest of featherlight kisses to your lips as his cock twitches with your depths. 

A guttural moan leaves his throat as he snaps his hips and his back straightens, his heavy balls drawing up as his cum paints your insides white in his color. “Fuck, princess. That’s a good girl. Taking my cum like the slutty girl you are for me.” His right hand stops vibrating, your juices sliding down the digits as he brings them to your lips. “Go on, clean them up for me then I’ll clean up my mess.”

“Your mes-mmmph~” Your words are cut off in a muffled moan as Caleb slips his soaked metal fingers past your parted lips. You whimper at the musky taste of your own slick and the metallic tang of his fingers running over your taste buds and your eyes slide close. A hum vibrates in the muscles of your throat and chest as your curl your tongue over the cool digits, warming them with your saliva before swallowing around them.

“Atta girl...” His lilac eyes swirl with lust as he watches you clean his hand of your squirt as he slowly drags his cock through your sensitive gummy walls, his cum sloshing around from the movement. He eases his softening dick out your fucked out little hole and slowly dropped open mouth kisses down your chest. His tongue curls over one nipple, worshiping it his his teeth with light nibbles before moving down lower. His lips nuzzle against your belly; one day it will be rounded with his child.

 One day.

His kisses trail lower until he has your thighs cupping his head. Caleb’s eyes lock on the thin glob of his cum that oozes out of your hole and his mouth waters a bit. Resisting the urge to use two of his fingers to scoop it back in and push it in deeper, his tongue lolls out. The pointed tip of his pink muscle strokes over your slit from bottom to top, collecting the string on the flat of it. He moans at the taste of his sticky cum mixing with your slick as it spreads over his taste buds. Caleb feels you jolt, your hands flying to tangle in his hair to probably stop him, but he uses his evol to make your wrists fly above your head and pin them to the mattress.

He moves his hand from your mouth as his cups his hands under your ass to bring your cunt to his ravenous mouth. One taste of your combined fluids and he was hooked. His tongue slithers into your gushing hole, seeking out more of his cum because he knows that he’s stuffed you so full of it by now. He shakes his head like a hungry dog, sweat dripping down his forehead and making his bangs stick to it in wet clumps. Lewd slurping sounds come as his lips suckle at your clit, tongue wriggling inside your clenching pussy.

Your back arches even more due to his grip on your ass as he lifts you up, your hips off the bed as your upper back and shoulders still rests on the mattress. You try to pry your wrists from the strength of his evol to no avail as he begins to feast  on you, the lewd slurping and swallowing filling the bedroom. Your mouth parts in a scream as your nerves are driven past the point of overstimulation. “Ca-Caleb! I-” Your words die off in another scream as the white hot coil in your lower belly winds tighter and tighter with every greedy lick and slurping of his tongue.

He suctions his mouth to your hole to suck out every last drop of his cum out your pussy, his nose bumping against your overly engorged clit. His eyes slide close as the musky taste of your juices mixed with his seed continues to flow over his tastebuds, He couldn’t get enough as his cock twitches back to life and pre slowly beads in the slit to dribble down his shaft. “Come on. Let me taste her. Let her squirt down my throat.” His left hand raises slightly and smacks down on the firm globe of flesh that was your ass, the skin jiggles lightly.

You could feel black spot forming in your vision as your chest heaves, your stomach caving in as you cum hard on his relentless tongue. Squirt, hot and runny, filling his mouth and running down his throat as he eagerly swallows it all down. Your body goes limp in his hands as the black spots increase, spreading over your vision completely. “Ca-leb....” You whisper out before exhaustion finally claims you.

Caleb pulls away from your delicious cunt, his lower face wet and shiny. His eyes immediately try to catch yours and panic settles in his chest when he sees you passed out. “Shit.” He curses as he lays you down in a dry spot on the bed. He crawls up to cradle your face in his palms and looks at your peaceful sleeping face and lets out a sigh of relief. “For a Hunter, we need to work on your stamina, little one.” He chuckles as he presses a sweet kiss to your sweaty forehead. “Get some rest. You’ll need it for later. I’m nowhere through with you.”

2022-25 nymphoheretic - I do not give permission to copy, edit, alter, or distribute my work. Do not adverse on tiktok. Do not repost on any other platform. I only have tumblr and AO3.

[cosmicoceanfic]

“Hey,” Dean says, peeved.

“I don’t think he knows how to wash his clothes, Cas,” Claire continues. “Like, how do you fuck him? I bet he doesn’t know how to wash his balls.”

“I wash my balls!” Dean hollers as Sam enters the room. Without looking up from his book, Sam does a heel turn and exits just as quickly.

“He does wash his balls,” Cas confirms. “Although I would prefer not to discuss that particular aspect of our lives with you in the future. And his clothes do get washed. Eventually.”

“I wash my clothes plenty!”

“And what is plenty to you, Dean?” Claire asks, whipping out some frankly insulting air quotes.

“Once they start to smell!”

Claire gives Cas a Look.

“I throw them in with mine, usually,” Cas tells her.

“That’s not the same as him taking initiative, dude. Does he use the same soap he washes his pits with to wash his hair?”

“I am standing,” Dean thunders. “Right here.”

Cas ignores him. “No, he has shampoo. It’s nice, actually. Um. Fragrant.”

“Dean, do you know what a dryer sheet is?”

“Do you?” Dean snaps.

Claire pauses.

“That’s not the point,” she settles on.

“Oh, Little Miss Hygiene can’t take a hit all of the sudden?”

“It’s a good thing you don’t have a vagina. I bet you’d get UTIs all the time.”

“I shower!” Dean shouts. “I would have the cleanest vagina! Cas, back me up!”

“Um.” Cas considers it. “No.”

“Dude.”

“Mostly because I don’t have any real conception of what it would take to get you to that point. You do shower every day.”

“Sometimes with him,” Dean adds, just to see the face Claire pulls. “I bet you’re just mad cause you don’t have anybody to throw your clothes in the dryer with them.”

“Are you going after a teenage girl for not having a girlfriend?” Claire asks. “Are you trying to give me issues?”

“Oh, you’ve got plenty of issues without me, sister.”

Dean and Claire glower at each other for a moment. Cas, unconcerned, returns his attention to his beekeeping magazine.

Claire turns to Cas abruptly. “I can get you on Grindr in like, five minutes.”

“Claire,” Dean says at the same time Cas, turning a page, says “no, thank you”.

“There’s guys on there with asses you could bounce a quarter off of, probably.”

“I like Dean’s ass. And I like Dean. But,” Cas adds, as Dean starts to feel pretty smug. “If he eats crackers in the bed again, I will take you up on the offer.”

“If I get-“ Dean whirls on Claire. “He got raspberry jam on my silver pillowcase. Do you know how hard that is to clean up?”

Claire stares at the both of them.

“I changed my mind,” she announces. “Both of you are too old to find love again so I guess it’s good you found each other.”

She heads further into the Bunker without another word.

Dean looks at Cas. “You’d clean up on Grindr.”

“Thank you.” Cas turns another page. “I know.”

au where the destiel confession happens a few seasons earlier and claire finds out and is like “seriously? you stole my dad’s body, ripped my family apart and ruined my entire life to be gay for that??” and dean thinks cas will defend him but he just shakes his head sadly and says “i know 😔” and dean’s like “WHAT THE FUCK”

[wendichester]

⭒˚.⋆ sacrifice,

summary. you make a deal to save dean's life but he's not having it

pairing. dean winchester x reader ; angsty

wordcount. 558

The second Dean walks into the room, you know you’re screwed.

His eyes are wild, shoulders tight with rage, jaw clenched so hard you’re surprised his teeth don’t crack. He storms toward you, fists balled at his sides, and for a second, you think he might actually punch the wall.

“What the hell did you do?” His voice is raw, shaking.

You swallow hard, but there’s no point in pretending. He knows. He must’ve found out. Maybe from Sam, maybe from the demon itself—doesn’t matter. The secret’s out.

“I did what I had to,” you say, keeping your voice steady even as your heart hammers in your chest.

Dean laughs, but there’s no humor in it. Just something broken, something desperate. “What you had to?” he echoes, stepping closer, eyes burning into you. “You made a deal for me.”

You cross your arms, trying to keep your ground. “You were dying, Dean. There was no other way.”

“There’s always another way!” His voice rises, shaking the walls of the motel room. His breathing is heavy, uneven. “Damn it, you think I’d let you sacrifice yourself for me? Not a chance, sweetheart.”

“Like you haven’t done the same?” you snap, voice sharp. “How many times have you thrown yourself in the line of fire for me? How many times have you died for Sam? For everyone? But the second I try to save you, suddenly it’s a problem?”

Dean’s nostrils flare. “That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because I can’t—” His voice breaks, and he stops, squeezing his eyes shut like he can force the emotion out of his body. His hands are trembling. When he opens his eyes again, they’re glassy, rimmed red with something too painful to name. “Because I can’t lose you,” he says, voice quieter now, rough and raw and full of a kind of desperation that shatters you.

Your chest tightens, the weight of it all pressing down on you.

“You weren’t supposed to find out,” you whisper.

Dean exhales sharply, shaking his head. “Jesus, you really thought I wouldn’t? You think I wouldn’t tear apart the whole goddamn world trying to figure out why you were acting off?” He runs a hand down his face, and when he looks at you again, he’s a mess of anger and devastation. “How long do you have?”

You hesitate, and that alone is enough of an answer.

“Goddammit,” he chokes, turning away from you like he can’t bear to look. He presses his hands to his knees, breathing heavy.

“I didn’t do this for you to waste time feeling guilty,” you say, stepping closer, placing a hand on his arm. “I did this because I love you. Because you deserve to live.”

Dean turns back to you, and before you can say another word, his hands are on your face, cupping your cheeks like you might disappear if he lets go. His forehead presses against yours, and his breath is shaky, uneven.

“I’m getting you out of this,” he swears, voice trembling with determination. “I don’t care what it takes. I don’t care if I have to burn Hell to the ground. You’re not going to die for me.”

Tears sting your eyes, but you don’t fight him.

Because if there’s one thing you know about Dean Winchester—it’s that when he makes a promise, he damn well keeps it.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystemss ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @funkenniffler ⋆ @lovewolfspirit ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @KayleighWinchester ⋆ @s0urw00lf

[d-z20]

Made to Suffer, Made to Serve (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: Caught in Agatha’s web of control, you find yourself entangled in a night of unrelenting dominance and submission, where every command is law and every touch is deliberate. With Rio trembling beneath you and Agatha’s sharp gaze keeping you in line, there’s no room for hesitation—only obedience.

-OR-

You thought you were just here for a drink, but now you’re balls-deep in Rio while Agatha micromanages your stroke game like an overbearing coach. When you disobey her order, you quickly find the roles reversed.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, dom stone top Agatha, sub bottom Rio, switch Reader has a penis, 'good girl' used for reader, edging, overstimulation, degradation, orgasm control, begging, breeding, blowjobs, rimjobs, pegging, 69 positioning, a singular spank

Words: 2.5k

A/N: Requested fic :)

AO3 | Masterlist

You don’t entirely know how you ended up here. One moment, you were just an acquaintance—someone who had, maybe foolishly, entertained Agatha’s invitation for a drink. The next, you found yourself wrapped up in something far beyond your usual experiences. It started slow—a knowing glance from Agatha, a playful touch from Rio that turned into something more. And somehow, it had escalated to this.

Now the air in their dimly lit bedroom is thick with the scent of sweat and anticipation. Rio is sprawled out on the bed, her wrists bound loosely with silk, her body trembling, her face a portrait of desperate need. She’s been like this for hours, denied and teased until she’s nothing but a quivering, overstimulated mess, her mind emptied of anything but want. Her lips are parted, her eyes glassy, and her whole body is trembling, just on the edge of breaking.

And Agatha—Agatha is standing beside the bed, looking as put-together as ever, her sharp eyes glinting with satisfaction. She’s the perfect picture of control, arms crossed over her chest, her mouth curled into a smirk that’s equal parts amused and cruel.

“Look at you, Rio,” she hums, tilting her head. “You’re fucking pathetic. Just a dumb little thing, shaking and whimpering because you can’t even think anymore, can you?”

Rio makes a sound—half whimper, half gasp—but doesn’t answer because she can’t. She’s too far gone, her body so desperate for release that she can do nothing but lie there and tremble.

Agatha chuckles and turns her gaze to you. You’re kneeling between Rio’s legs, gripping her thighs, your own body tense with the weight of the situation, your cock hard and aching with need. As much as you try to convince yourself you’re just here for the ride, you can’t deny the thrill that courses through you, the way your own arousal tightens deep in your chest.

“She’s been waiting all week for this,” Agatha murmurs, stepping closer, her fingers sliding along your jaw, tilting your head up to meet her gaze. “Haven’t you, sweetheart?” The question is meant for Rio, but she never takes her eyes off you. “And you—don’t get any ideas about mercy. You’re not here to be kind. You’re here to fuck her.”

You swallow hard, nodding, and Agatha smiles. It’s not a kind smile. “Good.”

She steps back, watching as you line the tip of your cock up, pressing against Rio’s soaked entrance, the heat of her making you groan under your breath. Rio whimpers, her body arching off the bed, her bound hands clenching in the sheets. But you don’t move yet—you wait, waiting for Agatha’s command.

“Slow,” Agatha instructs, her voice smooth and firm. “Make her feel it.”

You press in just an inch, and Rio’s whole body tenses, her legs trembling. A high-pitched whine escapes her lips, her head tipping back against the pillows.

Agatha laughs softly. “Look at her. She’s already falling apart.” She leans in close, whispering against Rio’s ear. “Poor thing. I bet you’d let anyone fuck you right now, wouldn’t you? Just desperate to be filled, to be used.”

Rio nods frantically, panting, her thighs squeezing around you, trying to pull you in deeper. But Agatha tuts, shaking her head. “No, no. You don’t get to move. Our sweet little guest here does. They’ll fuck you when I say they can.”

You bite your lip, dick throbbing, but you hold steady, gripping Rio’s hips, waiting. Agatha watches you for a long moment before nodding. “You can give her what she’s been begging for. But she’s not to cum. Not yet.”

You thrust in deeper, and Rio sobs, her whole body convulsing around you. She’s barely coherent, babbling nonsense, pleading with every breath, but you obey Agatha’s command. You pull back, slow and torturous, before thrusting in again, setting a rhythm that keeps Rio teetering right on the brink.

Agatha hums in approval, her fingers tracing over Rio’s flushed, sweat-damp skin. “That’s it. Keep her there. Keep her suffering.”

You don’t question her. You don’t slow down, either. Because Agatha told you to, and because you love the way Rio breaks under the pleasure, her body writhing, her mind slipping further and further away until all she can do is take what’s given to her. Exactly as Agatha intended.

You feel Agatha’s hand press slightly at the base of your spine. “Good, that’s it,” she hums, voice rich with satisfaction. “You see how pretty she is when she’s like this? Completely ruined. Just a body for you to use.”

Rio whines at the words, eyes glazed over as she rocks helplessly against you, trying to take more, trying to chase what you still refuse to give. She’s drenched in sweat, her skin burning hot under your touch, her thighs trembling from exertion. You almost feel bad for her; you almost give in to the way her walls clench around your aching cock so insistently.

But then Agatha grips Rio’s chin, tilting her face up to meet her dark, knowing gaze. “You want to cum, don’t you?” She coos mockingly.

Rio nods frantically, lips parted, but no words form beyond another needy sob.

Agatha chuckles, dragging her thumb over Rio’s bottom lip before tapping it lightly. “Too bad.”

Rio sobs again, throwing her head back, and Agatha turns her attention back to you. “And you, darling? You’re enjoying this too, aren’t you?” Her tone is amused, but there’s an edge to it, a command hidden beneath the casual question.

You swallow, nodding. “Yes, Agatha.”

Her smirk deepens. “Then keep going.”

And you do. Because you want to. Because Agatha told you to. And because you love every second of watching Rio unravel, just as Agatha intended.

However, you’re barely holding on yourself—the way Rio clenches around you, the way she sobs and whimpers, her body shuddering with every precise, agonising thrust. It’s intoxicating. You grip her hips harder, driving yourself deeper, feeling that tight coil in your stomach wind itself impossibly tight. Your breath stutters, and before you can stop yourself, the words tumble out—

“I’m—fuck—I’m gonna cum. Gonna fill you up so good.”

Rio keens at that, her entire body tensing, eyes glassy with tears as she chokes out, “Please, please—need it, need you to—”

“No, you’re not,” Agatha interjects coldly. Before you can react, she grips the back of your head, yanking you back just enough to force your gaze on her. Her eyes are sharp, unwavering.

You swallow hard, hips faltering for a split second, but her fingers tighten, nails scraping against your scalp. “Neither of you are allowed to.”

Your hips stutter, the order cutting through the haze of pleasure. You try to slow down, to hold yourself back, but Agatha's grip tightens, and then—a sharp smack lands on your ass, stinging and sudden. You jolt forward, a gasp tearing from your throat.

“I didn’t tell you to stop though, did I?” She scolds, voice smooth but firm.

A shudder runs through you, and you pick up the pace again, fucking Rio harder. You’re barely thinking anymore, just chasing that thin thread of control, focusing on Agatha’s steady presence, on her authority, on her voice. The heat in your gut coils tighter, every nerve alight, but you know you won’t last much longer.

Minutes pass, each thrust pushing you closer to the inevitable, until finally, your body betrays you. With a strangled grunt, you cum inside Rio, biting down hard on your lip, trying to play it off, trying to keep moving, to keep fucking Rio like you haven’t just disobeyed a direct order.

But Agatha sees. Of course she sees.

Her fingers dig into your jaw, forcing you still. “Oh? What’s this?” Her tone is mocking, full of condescending amusement as she watches it start to seep out of Rio, slick and glistening.

“How pathetic,” she continues, shaking her head.

Your whole body tenses as her words cut through the haze of your orgasm, as her fingers tighten in your hair again, pulling you away from Rio. “I gave you one order. One.” She shoves you back roughly, forcing you to pull out completely, leaving Rio twitching and empty beneath you. “And you couldn’t even follow that.”

You sit back on your heels, panting, your thighs trembling from exertion and shame as you watch Agatha’s lip curl in disgust. “Couldn’t even hold it. Couldn’t even control yourself for a few more minutes.” She huffs, shaking her head. “And you really thought you deserved to keep fucking her?”

You don’t answer; don’t dare to, because you know anything you say will only make things worse. Agatha tilts her head, considering you, before reaching out, fingers gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at her.

“I think you need a reminder of your place.” Her voice is deceptively soft, but the promise beneath it is anything but. “And how to follow simple instructions.”

You shiver, anticipation and humiliation twisting together in your gut as Agatha smirks.

“Clean it up.”

Your stomach clenches. The demand is clear. Hesitating would only make things worse. Swallowing hard, you lower yourself between Rio’s trembling thighs. You press your tongue to her swollen folds, tasting yourself as you lap up the mess you made. The mortification only adds to the heat pooling in your belly. Above you, Rio whimpers, her body twitching, overstimulated, and wrecked.

After untying Rio, Agatha watches you with a satisfied smirk. “Good girl. Now, get on all fours facing me.”

You obey instantly, positioning yourself as instructed. Agatha tightens the harness at her hips, running the silicone tip of her strap over your lips before pressing it between them.

“Suck.”

You take her in, moaning softly as she pushes deeper. There’s no affection in the act, no real pleasure for her—this isn’t about stimulation, not for Agatha. She’s using your mouth for convenience, nothing more than a means to slick up the strap, to prepare you for what’s next. She doesn’t react to your gags or the way you hollow your cheeks; she just watches with sharp, expectant eyes, waiting for you to do your job properly.

Behind you, Rio shifts, her breath warm against your ass before her tongue flicks out against your tight hole. The sensation makes you whimper, your body twitching under the dual stimulation.

A moan rips from your throat, muffled by the stretch of Agatha’s strap. She chuckles, fingers tangling in your hair, controlling your pace. “Look at you. So easy to break.”

Rio’s tongue is relentless, licking, teasing, and delving inside, and it leaves you trembling. You push back against her, needing more, but just as you start to lose yourself, Agatha shoves you down beside Rio.

“Enough.”

She wastes no time, spreading Rio’s thighs once more and thrusting in and out of her roughly. The lewd squelch echoes in the room, and Rio sobs in pleasure, too wrecked to form words. 

The force pushes more of your cum out, slicking the inside of her thighs. Agatha swipes it up with her fingers, then smears it across the strap before positioning herself behind you. “Ass up, baby.”

Your stomach clenches with anticipation as you do as you’re told and your breath hitches as you feel the pressure against your entrance. She doesn’t rush, doesn’t let you adjust—she just pushes in, inch by agonising inch, until you’re stuffed full, stretched, and shaking.

You whimper, pushing back against her, desperate for more. Agatha sets a rhythm, slow at first, making sure you feel every inch of her claim. But soon, it turns brutal. 

Your head drops forward, overwhelmed. And that’s when Rio moves beneath you, positioning herself so both of you have your heads in between the other’s legs.

“Go on,” Agatha orders. “Rio has earned her orgasm; let’s see if you can give it to her.”

You obey without question, lowering your mouth to Rio’s swollen, dripping folds. Your tongue flicks over her clit, fast and relentless, and Rio is right back on the edge after being denied for so long.

She chokes out a sob, her hips bucking up into your mouth, but Agatha’s firm grip keeps her pinned in place. “Stay still,” Agatha commands, voice sharp, “or I’ll make you wait even longer.”

Rio whimpers, but she obeys, her body trembling with restraint. And then, as if to urge you on, you feel her lips wrap around your length, her mouth warm, wet, and desperate as she takes you down her throat.

You groan at the sensation, hips jerking forward before Agatha’s firm hand at your lower back reminds you who’s in control here. Still, the wet heat of Rio’s mouth has you seeing stars, her tongue swirling, sucking, desperate to take everything you give her.

You work her just as ruthlessly in return, sucking and lapping at her oversensitive clit, feeling her body tense and quiver beneath you. She’s so close, hanging on by a thread, and then—with one last flick of your tongue—she shatters.

Rio climaxes with a strangled, broken cry, her entire body convulsing as pleasure crashes over her. Her legs quake, her hands clawing at the sheets as she drowns in her long-overdue release. It’s messy, overwhelming, and absolutely beautiful.

You cry out, caught between them as Agatha pounds into you from behind, forcing you further into Rio’s mouth. It’s too much, too good, every nerve alight, every sensation amplified by the relentless pace.

Agatha grips your hips tighter, thrusting harder. “Don’t you dare cum again until I say so.”

She doesn’t stop. If anything, she pounds into you harder, using your body as she pleases, pulling you closer until you’re dizzy, breathless, and utterly lost in the pleasure.

You can feel yourself unravelling again, pleasure coiling tight and desperate. “Please,” you whimper, barely able to form the words. “Please, let me—”

Agatha hums, dragging her nails down your spine. “Do you think you deserve it?”

You nod frantically, eyes squeezed shut. “Please. Please, I—”

“I don’t think you do,” she considers for a moment, “but you’ve already proven you can’t hold off, so do it, cum for me,” she relents.

Relief and ecstasy crash over you at once, and you shudder as you finally reach your peak, your cum spurting down Rio’s throat as she swallows you greedily. The pleasure is blinding, your body quaking from the intensity.

Agatha pulls back slowly, letting you collapse beside Rio, utterly spent. She strokes a hand down your spine, her touch almost gentle. Almost.

A satisfied hum leaves her lips as she surveys you both—wrecked, used, and thoroughly ruined beneath her. She leans in, fingers curling under your chin, forcing you to meet her gaze. “Next time, you’ll do better.”

A flicker of something warm pools low in your stomach at her words. A promise. A threat. A guarantee that this won’t be the last time she has you like this, weak and obedient under her command.

And god, you can’t wait.

-----

Agatha for sure knew exactly what she was doing and wanted you to end up disobeying her because she wanted to peg you. She just likes watching you struggle first

-----

taglist: @aceday @danveration @alwaysharmony @idkwhatever580 @lostbutlovely33 @sweetmidnights @6ange19 @jujuu23 @juls-stark

[stylestarkey]

the debutante’s dilemma (01)

𐙚 a rafe cameron social media and irl au

pairing   rafe cameron X carrera!reader

summary   spending every summer in the outer banks with your cousin kiara carrera were always a given—a break from the chaos of new york city. but this year is different. your mom, now an organiser for the annual debutante ball, is determined to introduce you to society. and you have a dilemma: finding the perfect escort.

warnings   none. 

navigation   masterlist 01 02

after collecting your luggage, you spot your mom waving. seeing her always made you happy—you only got to twice a year. having divorced parents meant she visited new york once a year, and you spent summers in the outer banks with her. there was no bad blood between your parents; they simply fell out of love when you were five. she decided to stay with her sister, kie’s mom, while you stayed in new york, where your friends were. it was a setup that worked for everyone.

"how was the flight, bug?" she asks as she drives. bug—the nickname she gave you when you were little, thanks to your childhood obsession with ladybugs.

"alright. i watched a romcom, so it felt quick."

"you and your romcoms." she gives you a knowing look.

"i'm just like you, mom." you chuckle. "anyway, i’m seeing kie first thing in the morning."

"that’s fine, bug. but be home early—we’re having lunch at the country club."

"cool, can i bring kie?"

your mom hesitates. "about that... i signed you up for this year’s deb ball, so i think you should spend less time with your cousin for the next few weeks."

you turn to her, frowning. "the what ball?" you pause, her words sinking in. "actually, no—what do you mean i can’t see kie?"

"i didn’t say that. i just think you should prioritise the ball first."

you stare at her, completely lost. "i don’t even know what you’re talking about."

"i’ll explain everything tomorrow at the meeting."

you don’t push it. your mom always had a plan, and for now, you decide to just go with it.

navigation   masterlist 01 02

note   hi! i am so excited to share this new smau with you guys, which is highly inspired by tsitp!! this first part is short but i’m posting a longer one tomorrow (hopefully) 🫠 two doors down will currently be on hold for now, i hope you guys understand—comment if you want to be in the taglist though!   - H <3

[laura1633]

I had to write something after hearing Crane suggest Max wear a ball gag to the first press conference of the year. It's just something short and silly but here it is. (1281 words)

“Charles, quick here, help me with this!”

Charles makes a peculiar squeaking sound as he finds two hands on him dragging him away from the direction he was heading and down a corridor. The Monegasque is just about to start kicking and screaming when he realises that it is Max who is currently manhandling him. 

“We don’t have much time” Max holds something up in his hand. And Charles - , well Charles has to do a double take because -

“What the fuck is that?” Charles stares straight at the item. There’s no real need to ask what it is because it is quite clearly a ball gag. The real question is why Max is holding it up menacingly seconds before they head into a press conference. 

“I was talking to Seb,” Max appears a little frustrated at the delay Charles is causing by wanting an explanation, “and he said that if I really want to make a statement about these new rules then perhaps the best statement would be silence….”

“Seb said to wear a gag?” Charles raises an eyebrow as he gives Max a curious look. He supposes that does sound a little like something Seb would suggest.

“Well no not exactly,” Max’s lips curl upwards into a grin, “The gag was my idea. Good right?”

“You know you’ll probably end up in the stewards room for this?” Charles’ heart rate spikes as Max impatiently thrusts the ball gag into his hands. 

“I will end up in there anyway!” Max smirks, “May as well have some fun first.” 

Charles finds a lot of things fun. Hanging out with friends. Skiing. Hiking. Music. Something. Anything other than stepping out in front of the world’s media in bondage gear. Clearly him and Max have different ideas of what is considered fun. 

“Are you going to help me or am I going to have to do it myself?” Max huffs.

“I can help,” Charles tuts rather defensively. Of course he is capable of placing a gag into Max’s mouth and be completely normal about it.

Completely. Utterly. Normal. 

“Cool,” Max opens his mouth wide. Ready, waiting. 

And suddenly it doesn’t feel quite so funny because Charles’ hands are getting sweaty and his heart is about to break free from his ribcage. He doesn’t really have much choice though, he can’t exactly run away, so the Monegasque reaches out and tentatively places the ball gag directly into Max’s mouth and watches as the Dutchman wraps his lips around it.

It looks -, fuck it looks hotter than it has any right to. 

Max makes a soft humming sound of approval and turns around to let Charles fasten the back. 

This is absolutely not what Charles imagined he would be doing moments before the first press conference of what could be a pivotal season for him.  He has no idea how he is going to answer questions about Ferrari’s championship potential or the impact of the arrival of Lewis when he has Max sat next to him like this. 

Charles gets the gag properly fastened and is pretty pleased with his handiwork. It’s not too tight but it’s secure enough that it’s not going to fall out.

Max makes a muffled sound that goes immediately to Charles’ dick and the Monegasque tries his best to think unsexy thoughts. It’s bad enough Max is going in there with his mouth stuffed, Charles absolutely can not accompany him with a hard on.

“You ready to go?” Charles gets a gentle nod in return as Max rather dutifully follows him through to the room. 

And just as Charles had anticipated, the whole room erupts with noise. There’s raucous laughter and excitable chatter along with a few gasps and most significantly of all a blinding amount of flashing cameras. Within minutes there will be photos all over the internet of Max with his mouth held open and lips plush around the silicone ball.  

“Everything okay Max?”

Charles watches as Max gives the reporter a thumbs up and then slinks down on the couch casually. Like this is any other press conference. Like there isn’t the smallest amount of saliva already dripping from behind the gag. 

There is though. 

Charles is close enough to see it dripping around the sides. By the time they are done here Max will likely be drooling helplessly. Wet. Messy. Filthy. 

Fernando looks endlessly amused. Ollie looks shocked but then giggles along nervously. Charles is - , well in truth Charles is turned on.

“Max why don’t you tell us what you think your chances are of retaining your championship this year? 

Charles turns to his right and watches Max shrug and then make a ‘so-so’ action with his hand. It’s enough to earn him another round of laughter from everyone.  Everyone apart from Charles who has to force a smile on to his face. 

Max fidgets a little in his seat. Charles can’t help but wonder what the Dutchman is thinking, whether he is regretting it, whether he is enjoying it. 

The Dutchman tries to swallow down the spit that is clearly building in his mouth. Charles hears the wetness of it. Sees more drool starting to escape down the sides, glistening under the lights. Max doesn’t look embarrassed though, he is just staring out ahead. Charles isn’t sure he has ever seen someone look so submissive and dominant at the same time. Gagged but in control. 

“Max is this some kind of statement regarding the new rules and penalties?”

Charles tries not to groan as he hears Max make a murmured sound from behind his gag. It’s completely incomprehensible, obviously, but the helplessness of the sound makes Charles’ dick twitch.  Again everyone in the room chuckles. And once again Charles has to force a smile on his face whilst also discreetly trying to readjust himself so his semi is not quite so obvious. 

There must be other people finding this a turn on. Charles can’t be the only one. Except maybe its because Charles can hear Max trying to breath around the intrusion. Maybe its because he can hear the muffled sounds and the slurping of spit. Maybe it’s because he can see the stretch of the lips and the way Max’s throat muscles are contracting each time he swallows. Maybe its because Charles is the only one thinking about what else Max could be gagging around right now. 

Charles has no idea what answers he gives to any of the questions thrown his way. In fact Max is probably making a lot more sense than he is. The Monegasque jumps up the second he is allowed to leave and immediately turns his back to the audience of journalists so they can’t spot the rather obvious bulge in his pants. 

Max follows him closely out of the room and is quick to remove the gag. The Dutchman starts gently massaging lightly his own jaw and wiping the excess of drool up. His cheeks looked flush, red all along the cheekbones, his eyes are sparkling tough. Excitement. 

“I think you shocked them,” Charles tries to look normal about the whole thing, “I don’t know whether you are a genius or an idiot.” 

“Perhaps both,” Max shrugs. 

“I can’t believe you bought a ball gag just to wind them up,” Charles’ gaze drops to the gag, it’s soaking wet, “What the hell are you going to do with that now?”

Max laughs and shakes his head. 

“I didn’t buy this for them,” Max smirks as he meets Charles’ gaze, “I had it at home. It’s going straight back into my collection.”

Charles stares blankly as Max winks and then saunters off swinging his ball gag in his hand. 

[cherryxbooo]

Love is never easy

Summary: Meeting a certain footballer wasn’t on your bingo card, but falling in love with him was even more unimaginable.

Reader x Pablo Gavi

Genre: fluff/angst

They say love should be simple.

That when you find the right person, it’s effortless, like a perfect pass that lands gently at your feet, as if it was always meant for you.

A connection so natural, so fluid, that you don’t even have to think.

But what happens when love feels like a game you’re always one step behind in?

When you’re constantly chasing, reaching, hoping, only to feel the ball slip just beyond your grasp?

I met Pablo Gavi in the most unexpected way, by quite literally crashing into him outside the stadium on a stormy evening.

The rain had been relentless, the kind that soaks through your clothes in seconds and turns the world into a blur of grey.

I hadn’t even been at Camp Nou for football.

My best friend’s brother worked security there, and I had come to meet her, completely unaware that fate had other plans.

One moment, I was battling my umbrella against the wind, the next, I was colliding into someone with enough force to make me stumble back.

My breath hitched as I looked up, my heart pounding, not just from the impact, but from the realization of who I had just crashed into.

Pablo Gavi.

His brow furrowed as he rubbed his arm where I had hit him, a soft curse slipping from his lips.

"Joder…" His voice was slightly irritated, rough around the edges, but the second his eyes met mine, something in them shifted.

His frustration faded, replaced by something else, curiosity, maybe. Amusement.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softer now.

I could barely find my words. "Y-yeah, I think so. Sorry about that."

He let out a short chuckle, shaking his head.

"You put up more of a fight than most defenders I face."

I didn’t expect him to remember me after that.

But he did.

The next time I visited my friend, I felt a pair of eyes on me before I even saw him.

And when I finally turned, there he was, leaning casually against a railing, arms crossed, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

"Still fighting with the wind?" he teased.

That time, I laughed.

The time after that, we talked.

And before I even realized what was happening, he had become a part of my life.

It felt easy. Too easy.

Like a dream you don’t dare wake up from.

But love, love is never easy.

They say the best love stories begin with friendship.

That the strongest bonds are the ones built slowly, quietly, in the spaces between laughter and late-night conversations.

That was us.

For months, Gavi and I existed in a space that wasn’t quite friendship but wasn’t something more either.

A delicate balance of playful teasing and unspoken feelings, of being each other’s first call at the end of a long day, yet pretending we didn’t notice the way our voices softened when we spoke to one another.

It started with late-night phone calls.

"Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?" I’d ask when my phone buzzed at nearly 2 a.m., his name lighting up my screen.

"Can’t sleep," he’d mumble, voice groggy but warm, like he had already been dozing off.

"Tell me something."

"Like what?"

"Anything."

So I would. I’d tell him about my day, about a funny thing my professor said, about how my best friend had tried (and failed) to set me up with someone.

I’d hear him scoff at that, muttering something under his breath that I could never quite catch.

Sometimes, it was the other way around.

"Tough game?" I’d ask when he called me after a match, his voice quieter than usual.

"Yeah," he’d sigh. "I just... I don’t know. I should’ve done better."

I’d listen as he talked, let him get it all out, the frustration, the pressure, the weight of expectations that never seemed to ease.

And when he was finished, when there was nothing left but silence, I’d whisper, "You’re too hard on yourself, you know that?"

His response was always the same, a quiet exhale, a soft "Only you say that."

I never knew what to do with the way my heart reacted to those words.

Then there were the little things.

The way he always seemed to know when I was having a bad day, sending me a simple "You okay?" that somehow made everything feel lighter.

The way he showed up at my university when he had a rare afternoon off, waiting for me outside my lecture hall with a coffee in hand.

"You didn’t have to do this," I’d tell him, but he’d just shrug, like it was nothing.

"You always forget to eat when you’re stressed," he’d say, handing me a sandwich like he had memorized my habits better than I had.

We never talked about whatever this was.

Never acknowledged the way his hand always seemed to find the small of my back when we walked through a crowd.

Or how we lingered just a little too long whenever we said goodbye.

It was easier this way.

Easier to pretend we were just friends.

Even when everything we did felt like something more.

Even when I already knew, I was falling.

And then, without realizing it, I had already fallen.

I fell for the way he looked at me, like I was something rare, something worth holding onto.

I fell for the way his fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on my palm whenever we sat in silence, as if memorizing the shape of me.

I fell for the way he always pulled me closer in a crowded room, his grip firm, protective, like he was afraid I’d slip away.

I fell, hard and fast, like I never had before.

But love, love is never just about falling.

It’s about what happens after.

And somewhere along the way, something changed.

It didn’t happen overnight.

There was no sudden, dramatic shift.

It was slow, subtle, the kind of change you don’t notice at first, like the days getting shorter, the cold creeping in before you even realize summer is gone.

It started with the little things.

The way his replies to my texts, once almost instant, started coming slower.

At first, I brushed it off he was busy, caught up in training, exhausted from travel.

But then, the messages themselves became shorter. A simple "Yeah." or "We’ll see." replacing the playful, teasing paragraphs he used to send me.

The voice notes that once made me smile, his laughter, the way he always seemed to have a story to tell, became fewer and fewer, until one day, they just stopped.

The late-night calls faded too.

"Are you awake?" I would text, staring at my phone, waiting for those three little dots to appear.

Sometimes they did. Sometimes they didn’t.

When they did, it was always the same answer.

"Tired. Talk tomorrow?"

But tomorrow came, and we didn’t talk.

At first, I told myself it was fine.

I told myself I was overthinking it. That he was just busier than usual, that he was under pressure.

I made excuses for him, ones he never even had to say out loud.

"He’s training harder." "He needs space." "Nothing’s wrong."

But deep down, I knew.

I knew when he started canceling plans.

It wasn’t dramatic.

No last-minute apologies, no elaborate excuses. Just a quiet shift.

A "Can we reschedule?" here, a "Next time, yeah?" there.

Plans that were once effortless, ones he used to fight for, rearrange his schedule for, suddenly became too difficult to make.

I knew when he stopped showing up unannounced at my university.

When I stopped catching him watching me from across the room.

When his touch, once so natural, so certain, became hesitant, like he was holding himself back.

The first time I felt it, really felt it, was at a party.

It was crowded, loud, the kind of scene he usually hated but endured because I was there.

I saw him across the room, talking to someone, a teammate, a friend, I wasn’t sure.

He was laughing, the kind of carefree laugh I hadn’t heard from him in weeks. And then, for just a second, his eyes met mine.

A beat of silence.

And then, he looked away.

I swallowed hard, trying to push down the sinking feeling in my chest. Maybe he hadn’t seen me.

Maybe I was imagining things.

But later that night, when I reached for his hand the way I always did, he didn’t pull me closer.

He let go.

And that was when I knew.

The boy who once fought for every second with me was now letting moments slip away.

The boy who once looked at me like I was his safe place now seemed distant, distracted, like he was carrying something he couldn’t share.

And then, one night, everything came crashing down.

It wasn’t one thing, it was everything.

A missed call that turned into three. A message left on read. An excuse that felt too rehearsed, too empty.

And finally, the truth, the thing I had been too afraid to admit to myself.

I wasn’t losing him.

I had already lost him.

Meanwhile,

The ball bounced off his foot awkwardly, rolling too far ahead.

Gavi cursed under his breath, sprinting to recover it, but his timing was off again.

The pass he attempted was sloppy, the kind of mistake he never made, and when he looked up, he caught the coach watching him with narrowed eyes.

"Focus, Gavi!" the coach called out.

"Sí, míster," he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

Something was off with him today, had been for days, if he was being honest.

He felt it in the way his movements were just a fraction too slow, in the way his mind wasn’t fully locked into the game.

Football was supposed to be his escape, the one thing that cleared his head. But lately, it wasn’t working.

And the reason?

Y/n.

He had been trying not to think about her.

Trying to push away the ache that settled in his chest whenever he saw her name on his phone screen and didn’t answer.

Whenever he caught himself reaching for his phone, only to stop himself. Avoidance was supposed to make this easier.

It wasn’t.

He didn’t notice Fermin watching him until his friend nudged him, breaking him from his thoughts.

"Alright, qué pasa contigo?" Fermin asked, keeping his voice low as they walked off the pitch for a water break.

"Nothing," Gavi answered too quickly, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Fermin snorted. "Yeah, sure. That’s why you’ve been playing like absolute shit today?"

"Fuck off," Gavi muttered, but there was no real bite behind his words.

Fermin wasn’t having it. "Seriously, bro. What’s going on? You’re not yourself."

For a second, Gavi considered brushing him off again.

But something about the way Fermin was looking at him, genuinely concerned, made him sigh in defeat.

"It’s about Y/n."

Fermin’s eyebrows raised slightly in recognition.

"The girl you’ve gotten close with?"

Gavi nodded, running a hand over his face.

"I thought you two were good. What happened?"

Gavi let out a breath, shaking his head. "Nothing happened… that’s the problem."

Fermin frowned. "Okay, you lost me."

Gavi hesitated before finally admitting, "I fell for her." The words felt heavy, like they had been weighing on his chest for too long.

"And I don’t know what to do with that."

Fermin stared at him for a beat before laughing under his breath.

"Pablo, you’re acting like that’s the worst thing in the world."

"You don’t get it." Gavi exhaled sharply.

"I never had someone like her before. She’s… different. She actually knows me, not just the football part of me, but me. And if I tell her how I feel and it ruins everything, I lose that. I lose her."

Fermin tilted his head, considering his words.

"So what? You decided the best solution was to avoid her?"

Gavi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I thought maybe if I put some distance between us, it would go away."

Fermin blinked at him. "Go away?"

"Yeah—"

"Are you dumb?" Fermin cut him off, looking genuinely baffled.

"Like, actually, physically dumb?"

Gavi scowled. "Qué?"

"You’re trying to avoid losing her, but you are losing her. Right now. Because you’re pushing her away." Fermin threw his hands up.

"Bro, you’re literally doing the one thing you don’t want to happen."

Gavi clenched his jaw, looking away.

He knew Fermin was right, but hearing it out loud made his stomach twist.

"Just talk to her," Fermin said, his tone softer now.

"Be honest. If she doesn’t feel the same, then yeah, it’ll suck, but at least you’ll know. At least you won’t lose her like this."

Gavi sighed, staring down at the grass beneath his feet.

"And if she does feel the same?" he asked quietly.

Fermin smirked, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

"Then you stop being a dumbass and finally do something about it."

Gavi rolled his eyes, shoving his hand off. "You’re annoying, you know that?"

"And you’re dramatic," Fermin shot back.

"Seriously, this is some novela-level shit."

Gavi groaned, tossing his water bottle at him. "Shut up, tío."

Fermin just laughed, dodging it easily.

"Nah, but for real, you owe me when you and Y/n get together. I'm talking VIP tickets, front row seats."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Gavi grumbled, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips now.

For the first time in weeks, he felt like he knew what he had to do.

He had to stop running.

And he had to tell you.

Pablo had called.

Twice.

And then he had texted. "Can we talk?"

But I didn’t answer.

I told myself it was because I was still mad.

That I wasn’t ready to hear whatever excuse he had for pushing me away like I meant nothing.

But deep down, I knew the truth.

I was scared.

Scared that if I let him back in, he’d hurt me again.

That I’d start hoping, start falling again, only to end up in the same place, alone, confused, wondering where it all went wrong.

"You’re overthinking this."

I blinked, snapping out of my thoughts.

My best friend sat across from me, legs tucked under her as she scrolled through her phone like she hadn’t just said something completely outrageous.

"I am not overthinking," I defended, arms crossed.

She gave me a pointed look. "Oh really? So what do you call ignoring him for days instead of hearing him out?"

"I call it self-respect."

"Mhm, sure," she said, unimpressed.

"Or maybe… just maybe, you’re terrified of whatever he has to say because it might actually make sense."

I groaned, flopping back against the couch. "Why are you on his side?"

"I’m not on his side," she argued.

"I’m on the side of common sense, which neither of you seem to have. Look, men are dumb, babe. They don’t know how to act. They get feelings and then short-circuit like malfunctioning robots."

That made me laugh.

"So what, you think he just malfunctioned?" I teased.

"Obviously," she said dramatically.

"Poor guy probably thought ignoring you would fix his feelings. Meanwhile, here you are, going through all five stages of grief in your pajamas."

I smacked her arm, but I was laughing now, the weight in my chest feeling just a little lighter.

"I hate you," I muttered.

"No, you don’t," she sang, standing up and stretching.

"Alright, I gotta go. Just… think about calling him, okay? At least to yell at him properly. You deserve that much."

I rolled my eyes but nodded.

"That’s my girl," she said before grabbing her bag and heading out.

The apartment was quiet now. Too quiet.

I sat on the couch, staring at my phone, thumb hovering over Pablo’s contact.

Should I call him?

My best friend’s words played in my head. "You deserve that much."

She wasn’t wrong. I did deserve an explanation.

But was I ready to hear it?

To let him back in when I wasn’t even sure I had fully healed from the way he had pushed me out?

I sighed, rubbing my temples. Maybe I’d sleep on it.

Maybe tomorrow—

Knock, knock.

I frowned.

Was my best friend back? Did she forget something?

I stood up, walking over to the door. "Did you leave your—"

My breath caught in my throat.

It wasn’t her.

It was him.

Pablo stood there, hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, his hair slightly messy like he had run his fingers through it too many times.

His eyes met mine, and for a second, neither of us spoke.

"Can we talk?" he asked, voice quiet.

I should’ve slammed the door in his face.

Or at least made him wait longer, the way he had made me wait for an explanation.

But I didn’t.

I stepped aside, letting him in.

Pablo sat down on the couch, his knee bouncing slightly like he wasn’t sure how to start.

"I know you’re mad at me," he finally said.

I crossed my arms. "No shit."

He sighed. "I deserve that."

"Yeah, you do."

Silence.

He ran a hand through his hair.

"I messed up, Y/N. I know that. And I hate that I made you feel like I didn’t care, because I do. More than I should, probably."

My heart clenched, but I kept my expression neutral.

"Then why did you push me away?"

Pablo hesitated, like he was still debating whether to be fully honest.

Then, he exhaled sharply. "Because I fell for you."

I blinked. "What?"

"I fell for you," he repeated, looking at me now.

"And I freaked out. I thought if I ignored it, if I put space between us, maybe I wouldn’t ruin everything."

I stared at him, waiting for the logic to kick in.

It didn’t.

"So let me get this straight." I leaned forward.

"You caught feelings… and your solution was to avoid me?"

"Yes?"

"Pablo, that is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard."

"Okay, Fermin already told me that, no need to gang up on me," he muttered, rubbing his temples.

"No, because—" I let out a frustrated groan.

"Do you even realize how badly that hurt? You were my best friend, Pablo. And then you just… disappeared."

His eyes softened, guilt flashing across his face.

"I know. And I hate that I hurt you. But, Y/n, I didn’t know what else to do. I’ve never had someone like you before. Someone who actually sees me. Not just the footballer, but me."

My heart skipped a beat.

"And I didn’t want to lose that," he continued, voice quieter now.

"I thought if I told you how I felt, I’d ruin what we had. But then, avoiding you just made me lose you anyway."

I sighed, shaking my head. "Yeah, it did."

Silence again.

Then, softer this time, he asked, "Can I fix it?"

I exhaled slowly. "You really are an idiot, you know that?"

He cracked a small smile. "Yeah, I’m getting that a lot lately."

I didn’t even realize I was smiling too.

The tension in the room slowly shifted, the weight in my chest lifting ever so slightly.

"So what now?" I asked.

Pablo hesitated before saying, "I don’t want to just be your friend anymore, Y/n. I want more. But if you don’t feel the same, I swear I’ll—"

I cut him off by grabbing his hand.

"You’re an idiot," I repeated. "But you’re my idiot."

His breath hitched. "So…?"

"So, you better not run away again."

His grin was instant, and before I could say anything else, he pulled me into a tight hug, burying his face in my shoulder.

"I won’t," he promised. "Not again."

I let myself melt into his embrace, my heart finally at peace.

We broke the hug, but his gaze never left mine.

Before I knew it, I felt his hand on my cheek, gently pulling me in for a passionate kiss.

Damn. It really was worth the wait.

Eventually, we both pull away to catch our breaths.

"So, does this mean we’re together now?" Pablo asked, grinning.

"I don’t know," I teased. "Are you gonna ignore me and be stupid again?"

"No!"

"Then I guess so."

He smirked. "You could’ve just said you wanted to be my girlfriend, princesa."

"And give you the satisfaction? Never."

He groaned, flopping onto the couch dramatically.

"Great. I’m dating a menace."

I threw a pillow at him. "And I’m dating an idiot. Perfect match."

He caught the pillow, tossing it aside before grabbing my hand again, this time intertwining our fingers.

"Yeah," he murmured, looking at me with that familiar, warm gaze.

"Perfect match."

And for the first time in weeks, everything felt right again.

The end

[serenelystrange]

Check Yes or No

In which Eddie finds peace, enjoys a sugary sweet treat, and gets his man!

T, 1243 Words. Short and sweet and absolutely no hurt!

Eddie shrugs and turns to the side just long enough to lob the balled-up paper cup into the trashcan a few feet away, whooping with delight as it sinks in. “I’m not worried about it,” he says, giving Buck a red-stained grin. “I like knowing you can find me.”

Up at A03, or under the cut.

Chris has been home for nearly six months by the time Eddie finally feels like he can breathe again. His relationship with his son isn’t perfect, but it’s good. Work has been without any major disasters, a thought he avoids acknowledging too hard just in case Buck’s superstitions prove to be true one of these days. The sun is warm on his face as he jogs around the park, the temperature not yet at the oppressive heat that August will bring. Eddie spots a colorful food cart as he winds down his jog, and he’s heading toward it without conscious thought.

The overly sweet cherry flavor of the snow-cone is a shock to his system, but a pleasant one, cooling his parched throat as he settles down on a nearby bench. Disregarding the long plastic spoon shoved inside the cup, Eddie grips the flimsy paper cup in one hand and devours the shaved ice directly, scrolling through his TikTok feed mindlessly with the other hand.  By the time he gets to the end of the treat, he’s four parts into a five-part saga of some woman’s evil in-laws, and he curses as he refreshes her page and sees the final part isn’t uploaded yet.

“Hey.”

Eddie startles at the voice, looking up with a confused but pleased expression as Buck settles down onto the bench beside him. He’s wearing loose jogging shorts and a baggy blue t-shirt, along with his running shoes, but Eddie can’t help but notice he hasn’t broken even the hint of a sweat.

“How did you even find me?” Eddie laughs, smirking when Buck freezes, caught. Eddie clicks his screen dark and pockets his phone.

“Find My Friends,” Buck huffs after a moment. “You never disable it, man. You should really remember that more often.”

Eddie shrugs and turns to the side just long enough to lob the balled-up paper cup into the trashcan a few feet away, whooping with delight as it sinks in.

“I’m not worried about it,” he says, giving Buck a red-stained grin. “I like knowing you can find me.”

“Good to know, Count Dracula,” Buck laughs softly, eyeing Eddie’s cherry-smeared lips for just a moment too long.

“My mouth stained?” Eddie asks, noticing a remaining line of cherry sugar water dripping down his thumb.

Buck just nods, watching intently as Eddie brings his hand up to his mouth and licks the sweetness clean, licking his own lips unconsciously.

“Why’d you track me down?” Eddie asks innocently as he returns his hand to his lap. “You could have just called.”

“Was bored,” Buck says, shrugging. “Cleaned the loft, did all my laundry, I even folded and hung it all up after.”

“Impressive,” Eddie says, earnestly. “Folding it is the worst part.”

“Maybe I’ll get one of those folding robots,” Buck muses. “They can do it so much faster than me.”  

“Yeah, until it gets bored and decides to fold you to death instead,” Eddie snorts derisively.

“They’re only like this big,” Buck laughs, gesturing with his hands. “I think I can manage to fend off a microwave sized robot even if it was evil.”

“Hmm,” Eddie says, unconvinced.

“You’re ridiculous,” Buck says, fondly.

“And you’re stupidly gorgeous,” Eddie huffs, “we all have our crosses to bear.”

He realizes what he’s said a moment too late, as he watches Buck’s face flit through every known emotion in the human spectrum, and maybe a few exclusive to those shrimp who see all the colors.

“Any chance you want to pretend I didn’t say that out loud?” Eddie asks, blaming the sugar rush for the words, and for the blush that no doubt matches his reddened lips.

Buck is silent, which in itself is alarming, and Eddie gulps apprehensively as Buck’s eyes narrow and his head tilts in thought.

“So, you usually only call me gorgeous in your head?” Buck asks, righting his own head so he can stare right into Eddie’s wide eyes.

“No,” Eddie denies, far too quickly if the smirk on Buck’s face is any indication. “Shut up, you’re hideous, actually.”

“Oh my god,” Buck says, breaking into a wide grin. “You like me!”

“You’re my best friend, asshole,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes. “Obviously I like you.”

“No, you like like me!” Buck says with a hum. “You wanna pass me a note in Math class and have me check yes or no!”

“I wouldn’t pass notes in class,” Eddie says, relaxing slightly as he realizes Buck isn’t running away. “I went to catholic school; they’d smack us with rulers if they caught us.”

“Jesus,” Buck breathes.

“Allegedly,” Eddie agrees, sardonic.

Buck laughs at the almost-joke; funny in that distant way childhood scars form, ragged and pink and forever just a little bit tender to the touch.

“We aren’t in middle school,” Buck says after a moment, gaze softening impossibly, “even if you do have kool-aid mouth.”

“Shut up,” Eddie laughs, rubbing the back of his hand against his stained mouth uselessly. “It was good.”

“You should’ve shared,” Buck pouts dramatically. “Rude.”

“I didn’t know you were coming!” Eddie defends, reaching up and cupping Buck’s face, rubbing his thumb across one flushed cheekbone. “I’ll buy you a snow-cone, whatever flavor you want.”

“Cherry looks good,” Buck says, eyes firmly on Eddie’s full lips.

“Hmm,” Eddie says, tilting Buck’s head up until he can see his eyes again. “Hey, Buck?”

“Yeah?”

Eddie smiles, a quietly pleased little thing, as his thumb stops moving.

“Do you like me? Check yes or no.”

“Duh,” Buck says, leaning into Eddie’s hand and fluttering his eyes closed for a moment.

“What was that?” Eddie teases, thinking back to Buck and clipboards and the most confusing erections of his life.

Buck snorts a laugh, not attractive in the least, but catches on, pressing a kiss against Eddie’s palm before looking at him again.

“Check.”

He grabs Eddie’s free hand in between his own and traces a checkmark onto his skin, laughing again even as Eddie moves the hand on his face to thread through his hair instead. Eddie kisses the laugh from his lips, catching the surprised gasp with his own.

Eddie tastes like ice and sugar, almost overwhelmingly so, but Buck chases the sweetness eagerly, melting back against the bench as Eddie twists and leans around him. He grips the back of the bench behind Buck’s shoulder as they kiss and kiss and kiss, holding tight with the hand not in Buck’s hair. Eddie damn near whimpers when Buck finally gently nudges them apart to take a breather.

“We cannot get arrested for public indecency,” Buck rasps, licking the transferred sweetness from his own lips. “Athena would never let us live it down.”

“It was just a kiss,” Eddie argues, pointedly not looking down at their matching tented shorts.

“That wasn’t just anything,” Buck says.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, the very picture of the cat with the cream.

“I parked in the garage a few blocks down,” Buck offers once they’ve calmed down and Eddie has reluctantly removed his hand from Buck’s hair.

“The dark and covered garage?” Eddie asks mischievously.

“Way in the back corner,” Buck nods, watching raptly as Eddie reaches down to his own lap and gives himself just one discreet squeeze.

“Good,” Eddie says, hopping up and offering Buck his hand. “Then what are you waiting for?”

And Buck? Buck can’t think of even one little thing. He grins widely and takes Eddie’s hand.

The End

[suzukiblu]

WIP WEDNESDAY GAME

Slimmed-down post/rules, but originally taken from @/kedreeva.

It’s WIP Wednesday! This week’s theme is "you like me? sounds fake but okay". We are going to be using various interpretations of this theme, let's say, lol.

Here’s how it works:

I will post the file names of five WIPs, and will also post a snippet of new content from one of them to get the ball rolling.

Send me an ask with the name of one of the listed WIPs and I will write you a minimum of three sentences in that WIP in response!

Multiple requests are fine, but please send them in separate asks. Just a little easier for me to fill them that way, and also easier for people to read through the WIP tags smoothly later.

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

WIP names:

if there is a way to find you I will find you (( chrono || non-chrono ))

the Last Son of Krypton meets Hypertime Kon (( chrono || non-chrono ))

kidnapping your soulmate for fun and profit (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Robin gets nested (( chrono || non-chrono ))

think pink (( chrono || non-chrono ))

snippet from “if there is a way to find you I will find you”:

“It’s alright,” Clark tries again, carefully. Match’s eyes are wide and his expression is fury and fear and he hasn’t said a word; Conner is thrumming with tension and terror and barely restraining himself from throwing himself into the middle of things, which would not help, but at least he knows that. “Can you–” speak, he means to ask, but Match doesn’t wait any longer than that to lunge back forward and attack him again. 

Clark doesn’t have time to react before he takes a fist to the throat that only barely doesn’t crush his throat, and staggers back from the hit. Conner cries out, and Clark feels his terror even sharper than the pain. 

Mostly what he feels is disoriented, though. 

No one who wasn’t an outright enemy has ever hit him that fast and that hard. Barry can’t hit that hard, Diana isn’t that fast, and Captain Marvel typically holds back when they spar, same as he does. Match is clearly, clearly not doing that. 

But . . .

[boybandbaby]

The Sweet Escape Part V

911 AU (Prince!Evan Buckley x Fem!Baker!Reader)

previous part

word count: 4855

warnings/tags: smut (18+ minors please do not interact), cheating/homewrecking, unprotected p in v, biting, riding, slight nipple play, light choking, cream pie (I wish I had a baking joke to go along with this)

note: not sure when the next part will be out - haven’t planned past this chapter yet

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

It’s been weeks since you’ve seen Buck and you truly miss him. You wonder if he misses you too. You’ve heard through Albert who’s heard through Chimney who’s heard through Maddie that Buck has been compliant lately. No arguing with his parents, actually learning King duties, helping out with the wedding.

You hope he’s doing well despite everything. Even after you heard him say that you mean nothing to him, his is still everything to you.

You beat yourself up everyday for pushing him away so cruelly. You tell yourself it is justified because of what he said.

You begin to replay your conversation with Chimney and Eddie from just last week.

“He’s miserable. He misses you so much.” Chim informs you.

“Did he tell you that?” You raise a brow and cross your arms over your chest.

“Well no, but I mean I see it on his face. You have to reach out to him.” Chim follows you as you move to sweep some crumbs off the floor.

“Guys, I appreciate what you’re doing but he’s getting married in a few days.”

“He should be marrying you. Everyone knows it.” Eddie says matter of factly.

“There’s nothing that can be done.” You sigh in defeat, handing Albert the broom to place back in its holding place.

“You could always object at the wedding?” Albert adds.

“Yeah right, the queen would have my ass.” You laugh. “She’d get the bakery shut down as punishment.”

“Maybe that’s true but you could still be there for him. He needs a friend.” Eddie shrugs.

“He has you guys, Hen, Bobby. He doesn’t need or want me around.”

“You can’t possibly believe that.” Eddie sasses.

“I heard him say it.” You blurt. “He said I don’t mean anything to him. He didn’t even know I was in the room when he said it.”

“It has to be a misunderstanding. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” Chim leans against the counter, stealing a croissant from Albert.

“You should’ve heard all the whispers at the ball. Girls were jealous of the attention he was giving you, some of the parents thought you were already together. You both looked good together.” Eddie utters.

You feel your cheeks and neck get warm before turning your head down, trying to find something to busy yourself.

“Just… think about it. At least send him birthday wishes.”

There’s two soft knocks on Buck’s door. He groans, thought he told Eddie to go home to Chris.

Buck’s had a long day. He’s met so many different people, allies in which he should remain connected and respectful for future support. He’s taken a few classes on public speaking and history and a dance class for the wedding. He’s just gotten back from a charity event, while rewarding and eye opening, he’s ready to call it a night.

He chooses to ignore the knocks, shedding his blazer and shoes off. Two louder, more impatient knocks ring out.

“What the hell?” He grinds his teeth, suppressing a groan. He storms over to the door, whipping it open with force. The door is heavy but with his determination, he opens it up quickly, enough to create a gust of wind.

Your back is turned to the door, keeping an eye on the hallway and also ready to book it out of there. You jump when you feel the cold air and hear his annoyed tone. “What!?”

It’s quickly followed by a “Y/n, what are you doing here?” He is shocked to say the least. His voice comes out more soft than just moments before.

“Hi,” you whisper. “I wanted to see you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking a lot about you.” You admit, shyly.

Buck looks around the hallway and pulls you into his room before anyone can see. You’d surely be in trouble if you were caught.

You’ve never been in his room before. You’ve never really been anywhere other than the kitchen and the ballroom before either. His room is somehow exactly as you’d suspected with a 4 post king size bed, long silky drapes, ceiling to floor windows, a fireplace, a leather couch. What you didn’t expect was for the little unique parts of him throughout. The pajama pants thrown onto the messy bed, a pair of slippers laid beside his bed, a cork board with a variety of pictures of friends and family, and a little bed side night light. The items seem so out of place in the grand aspect of his room.

Buck runs to tidy up a bit, hoping he’s not embarrassing himself in front of you. “I’m sorry. I haven’t let anyone in here to clean in a while.”

“It’s no problem. I stopped by unannounced.” You swing the basket in your hands. “Your room is bigger than our entire apartment.” You laugh, mouth open in awe as your fingers run along the back of his couch. “You have a balcony?”

Before he can answer, you’re running to the set of double doors and out into the night air. From his view you can see the layout of the land, from the yard around his home to the rows of trees that cover the path leading down to town. You can see the roofs of the familiar buildings you’ve grown up around.

You have to squint to really make out things but it still looks beautiful amongst the dark blue sky.

“I used to come out here a lot when I was younger. I would just sit and watch the sun rise and fall every day.” He leans over the railing a bit.

You keep a fist wrapped in the back of his dress shirt as he leans too far over for your liking. “You don’t do it anymore?”

“Don’t have time.” He shrugs, eyes flicking to the basket in your left hand. “What do you got there?”

“Oh! Um,” you set the basket on one of his lounge chairs and kneel down. Your skirt bunches up as you slink down to your knees. He loves that you don’t care about the balcony dirt getting on your skirt. It’s something so simple but it shows who you are.

He briefly thinks back to his fiancé and the meltdown she had this morning when one of the servants spilled a cup of coffee on the floor causing droplets to fall on her heels. Buck had to apologize for her outburst.

He watches you take out a small box. It’s wrapped in makeshift wrapping paper from a brown paper bag tied with a silky pink bow.

“Come here.” You beckon him over.

He’s in dress pants so he can’t get down to the floor unless he wants to further embarrass himself and split his pants. He sits on the chair beside your basket. “I know I’m early but happy birthday.”

“Wait, you remember my birthday?”

“Of course, it’s like a city wide holiday.” You laugh. “Plus you never shut up about it when we were kids. I know it’s not much really, but it’s from my heart.”

He unties the bow and pulls the wrapping off. Inside is The Finest Flour’s signature baby blue box, a clear window showing the little cake you made for him. It’s a small two tiered heart shaped cake, sage green frosting with white swirly accents. On top is a sparkly “25” in fondant.

“You made this for me?” He exhales, his eyes glossy.

“Yeah, I figured I’d make you a good cake with flavor since your wedding cake is bland as fuck.” You laugh. You only know because your bakery has been requested to make the wedding cake with specific instructions to “make sure it’s moist.”

Buck sets the box down and looks down at you. “Y/n, I-“

“You don’t have to say anything, Buck.”

“I do. I’m so fucking sorry. When I said you meant nothing to me, I didn’t mean it. You have to believe me.”

“How do you know that is why I was mad?”

“I figured it out surprisingly. I know I have a reputation for being a himbo but I’m not that dumb. Also, Hen helped me realize.” He chuckles.

“You’re not dumb at all.” You shake your head, “just not the smartest.” He snorts at that and doesn’t argue. “You know Chim and Eddie must really love you. They came to the bakery saying they wanted to visit Albert but the entire time the kept vouching for you like they were you’re lawyer or representative or something.” You shake your head with light laughter.

“I know you keep getting hurt by me and I don’t want you to. I would never want to hurt you y/n.” Buck reaches for your hand. You let him hold it.

“I know, Buck. You’re not like your parents or all the rich douchebags around here. You’re sweet and soft.”

“You think so?” He blushes.

“I know so.” You smile up at him. “How’s the wedding coming along? Sometime next week you’ll be married.”

“Let’s talk about anything else please.” He rubs his thumb over your knuckles. His eyes follow his movements before he slowly pulls away. “So, how are things with you and Albert?”

“It’s going really well.” You smile, hands falling to your lap. “I love having him around.”

“I’m really happy for you y/n, he’s a great guy and I know he’ll treat you right.”

“Wait.. what? We’re not together!” You laugh, “no, I mean he’s been really great help for the bakery.”

“Oh… tha-that’s good. I’m sorry I assumed.” He breathes a sigh of relief. You both smile softly at each other. Buck bites his lip while you shake your head, laughing to yourself.

“Well I should probably head out. Don’t want to get us both in trouble.” You reach your hands out to him, he stands and helps pull you up. “It was good seeing you.”

“Yeah.” He nods quickly. He uses your locked hands to pull you into him for a hug. His arms wrap around your upper back. You don’t hesitate to wrap yours around his waist. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” You pull back slightly. You decide you can only hold back slightly, your feelings for him are clearly still here and urging you to make a move. You know he’s an engaged man, soon to be married but you can’t seem to care.

You bring your lips to the apple of his cheek. Your lips are smooth and slightly sticky and scented with your favorite chapstick. You keep your lips there long enough to hopefully leave the ghost of the kiss there when you leave.

Just as you’re pulling away, youre stumbling backwards at the desperate force of Buck’s lips on yours. Before you can trip on the rug below you, his hands hold you in place. His hands are splayed over the sides of your neck as he pulls your face into his. The kiss is hot and cradles every part of your body, spreading over your skin. It feels like you’re in a sauna despite the cold air filtering in from the balcony.

Buck’s hands travel down to your hips as your steps mock his own, long and slow like a waddle, until you’re backed up against his bed.

“Jump.” He commands, voice low and light. When you do, his hands on your hips guide you up onto his bed. His bed is high up on its platform, definitely accommodating his tall height.

His bed is squishy and soft, like a cloud of cotton candy. He wastes no time in unbuttoning his dress shirt, a thin white tshirt under it.

He stands between your legs, holding into your thighs as you take over. You’re pulling the fabric from his shoulders and letting the shirt drop to the floor.

Buck undresses you slowly, savoring your scent and leaving kisses on your shoulders.

He lays you back onto the bed, pushing you up to fully enjoy the expanse of his mattress. His lips plant a kiss to your forehead, down the bridge of your nose, then your lips and chin.

He’s been respectful up until now, eyes glued to your face. Not until you say “keep going” does he give your collarbone a kiss and let his eyes roam your chest.

His body is planted on top of yours, with enough room between you both to move, he trails down your shoulders and chest, not missing any inch of skin.

Buck is licking and kissing down the slopes of your breasts, over your stomach and down your left hip. You’re squirming and giggling at his lips and growing stubble. He sucks marks down your inner thigh to the inside of your knee before he leaves a kiss.

“God, you smell amazing.” It’s a mix of sugar and cocoa powder on you. “I could just eat all of you.”

“Eat me or eat me out?” You look down at him as he runs a hand down your calf, kissing your ankle.

“Why not both?” He smirks.

“Maybe another time, I need you.” You pant. His kissing has worked you up, never having experienced a partner shower your entire body with love.

Buck stands at the edge of the bed, slipping his pants and socks off. His tshirt is next to go, thrown on the wooden footboard of the bed.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks, just in his boxers.

You sit up on your elbows to look at him. “I am. Are you?”

“So sure.” He smiles before shimmying his boxers down. He disappears for a moment as he bends down to take the boxers off his feet.

When he comes back up, the next thing you know is that his full weight is on you as he’s resting on his elbows. One of your arms is wrapped under one of his arms, your fingers running through the hair at the nape of his neck. Your fingers get caught in his curls but he doesn’t mind the little tug that happens every so often.

You’re getting restless under him as all he’s done is kiss you. His kisses are intoxicating but you need more.

“Buck,” You mumble against his lips.

“You need more, baby?” He whispers into your ear.

“Yes, please.” You shudder.

“Tell me exactly what you want.” He teases. You can’t think straight, you thought his kisses left you dizzy but then he called you baby.

“I want you inside of me.” You whisper, afraid someone other than you two will hear how bad you want him.

Now that Buck is sure you really want this, that you’re consenting to this, he nudges your thighs open. His hips slightly fall closer to the mattress as you make space for him.

“I need you to tell me when things don’t feel good or you want me to stop.” He holds his cock in his right hand, stroking gently while his left is holding him above you.

“Okay, okay.” You rush, feeling impatient. “Please Evan.”

Buck uses the tip of his cock to find your entrance. It’s not a perfect hole in one as he runs his tip along your folds. He can feel your body tense and he knows he’s at the right spot.

“Don’t tease me.” You warn.

He laughs, dropping his head to your shoulder. He pushes himself into you. It’s a slow stretch due to his size.

Your hands hold onto his shoulders, nails digging into the skin. You’re holding back, not wanting to hurt him. He has a different idea as his teeth sinks into your shoulder. It’s not too hard but there will definitely be indents of his teeth.

It feels like forever when he finally gets to the base of his member.

“How are you feeling?” He kisses the teeth marks.

“Full.” You laugh. “But good, really good.”

“Can I move?” He kisses the skin right in front of your earlobe just above your jaw.

“Yes, please. Been waiting for so long already.” You whine.

“Needy.” He jokes before pulling his hips away from yours and thrusting back into you slowly.

He starts slow and picks up the pace at your begging. Your hand goes back to pulling at his curls, the other is wedged between your bodies, fingers applying pressure to your clit. With every thrust, he feels your knuckles brush against his happy trail. His left leg shakes uncontrollably each time it does.

Your hand cramps from the position but you don’t stop, moving slowly in circles to keep building on your high.

He’s kissing your neck and shoulder, changing from simple pecks to sloppy kisses to sucking. His lips graze your jaw every so often sending a moan from your lips. He’s smiling against your skin, teasing you with his stubble. He loves the reactions he’s getting from you.

You’d never expected Buck to be a guy who enjoys and is good at slow sensual passionate sex. You’d always picture him as a guy who fucks like a jackrabbit, rough, fast and sloppy.

“I love feeling you on me.” You confess. “Every part of you feels so good.”

“Can’t believe I’m with you right now. Could spend hours exploring every inch and crevice of you.” He whimpers. “I love you, y/n.”

“Buck-“ You gasp, his hips pounding into you. You feel the tip of his cock hitting the same spot over and over.

“I do, I’m so in love with you.” His eyes are screwed shut.

“Evan, look at me.” You say between moans. Your bodies rock up and down and you’re clinging with sweat. He lifts his head to meet your eyes.

“I love you, too. So much.” You don’t even have the chance to smile because his lips are on yours again. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in closer, which you didn’t think could be possible.

“Holy shit, don’t stop.” You moan, your fingers are about to give out, clit practically burnt off by how fast you’re brushing your fingers over it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Buck mumbles into your neck. You don’t say anything out loud but you can feel his tears, dripping down his cheeks and pooling on your neck.

“Come on, handsome. We’re almost there.” You encourage. That’s all it takes for him to release. His hips stutter and he lets out a noise that’s similar to a groan, mouth open in an “ah.”

He clings to your shoulders, arms between your back and the mattress as he holds you tight. He has no control over his hips as he brings you to your high.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod.” You screech, thighs squeezing his hips as if you’re cracking a walnut. Your toes squeeze and flex, tickling his skin. His nose runs along your cheek as you whine out a long moan. “I-“

You can’t even get a word out as you shiver the tenseness out of your body. Your body goes slack, releasing his body. You laugh, completely overwhelmed by what just happened, not sure how to communicate your thoughts.

Buck just watches you with fond eyes, savoring this feeling. You shake your head, blinking. When you’ve come out of your haze, you meet his eyes.

Your thumbs brush his cheeks, damp with tears. “You okay?” He sniffles, giving you a nod. “Good tears?” He nods again. “Come lay beside me, wanna cuddle you.” You kiss his birthmark. Buck slowly pulls out, blowing out a breath of air and hissing when he is fully out of you.

He scoots himself into your side, head resting on your bicep, thick thigh thrown over to cover your lower half. One arm is squished beneath him and his other massages your hand. He feels the tension in your hand, milking out the forming cramp.

“You’re making me feel all tingly, Buckley.”

“You make me feel loved, y/n.” He bypasses your compliment. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him so serious.

“You deserve all the love in the world. Not because of your good looks or because you come from a well off family but because of your heart. You care so much about others.” You drop his hand to your chest, brushing aside his curls from his face. “I can’t wait for you to be King. You’re going to use your big heart to better not just yourself but those around you.”

“What if I don’t become King?” He whispers, his hand traveling up to your neck, running his thumb over your throat.

“Then what would you do?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a teacher.” He reveals. “I love kids. I would love to be able to help shape them into good people you know? Provide a safe space for them to grow and express themselves.”

“You’d be good at it. You’re patient and you make people feel welcome. When we first met, we’d never even spoken but you started speaking to me like we knew each other all our lives. You make people feel comfortable.”

“You think I could do it?”

“I know you could.” You smile. “Stay here.”

You pull your arm from under his head and grab the closest clothing item you can find. You press it to your chest to cover yourself. You tip toe over to the balcony to grab his cake.

“Should we try some?” You struggle to keep yourself covered as you hold the box on one hand.

“Ooh yes.” He claps before pulling part of the comforter he’s on, over his lap. He pulls a pillow under his head and upper back. You hand him the box and get a running start to jump onto his bed.

He’s laughing as he opens the box. You’d hoped he would want to eat with you so you’d provided two forks.

You cheekily pull the blanket off his lap and sit on his thighs. You pull the cake out of the box and rest it on his stomach like a table.

It’s almost his birthday and you want to spoil him while you have him. You give him the first bite of the cake. The moan he makes around the fork has you squirming on him.

“You know what? Forget the cake.” You rush to get it off of him and onto his nightstand.

Buck tucks his arms behind his head. He’s sprawled comfortably on his comforter. He watches as you lean over, pushing the cake to a comfortable spot where it won’t fall off.

You lean down to kiss him, cleaning the frosting off his lips. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, biting it and dragging it open.

Buck sucks in a breath. “Let me take care of you.” You whisper against his mouth. He nods slowly, lips chasing yours as you lean back.

He’s just about to whine when you begin to suck on his neck. You creep down to his chest, not wanting to leave any noticeable marks. You decide to run your tongue over his pecs and close to his nipple. He curls in on himself, giggling.

“Don’t tickle me!”

“I wasn’t trying to!” You pinch his nipple.

“Okay, that was just mean. It’s my birthday, you have to be nice to me.”

“Oh? I have to?” You pinch his other one and he squeals. “I’ll be nice from now on.”

“You better.” His arms are crossed and his hands are covering his nipples from any further torment.

You start up again, kiss down his tummy, sucking the skin as you get lower. Buck is trying to stop the little spasms his body does every time you kiss him. He’s rock hard again in no time, hand lazily coming to stroke himself as he watches you shower his thighs in hickies.

“What do you want to do birthday boy?” You look up at him, though it’s hard with the stroking that’s happening in your line of vision as you try to look at his face.

“I wanna kiss you a little more.” He beckons you to come back up. His right hand strokes as his left hand comes to rest on your hip. His moving hand is tucked under you, continuing his movements as you lean down over him to kiss him.

Buck whimpers into the kiss and has to bite his lip to stop himself from making pathetic noises. He loses the battle when you ask if you can ride him.

In seconds, he’s lining himself up for you to sink down. His grip on your thighs helping guide you down onto him before going back behind his head. You both moan in unison at the feeling. Your pussy easily sucks him in this time.

His comforter pools around your thighs and calves as you slowly start to grind on him. The material caressing your legs with every move.

Your hands stretch across his abdomen, grounding your every movement. Your hips roll and roll as you fuck him. Buck relaxes into the bed, hands behind his head, simply watching the way your eyes scrunch with each forward thrust you make. Your head is dropped forward, your chin tucked almost to your chest.

Your movements are slow and rhythmic, calculated.

“You look so fucking hot.” He moans.

“You feel so good.” You cry out. “Love how you stretch me open.”

“Keep going baby, you’re taking me so well.” His voice is husky and breathless. “Don’t stop, please.”

Your hips speed up, causing Buck to flinch and buck his hips. His hands shoot out from behind his head to grip your hips as you begin to topple forward. His hands clutch to the fatty skin between your thighs and hips as he pulls you forward and back on his cock.

Your hands hold onto his outstretched biceps for stability when you begin to change from grinds to bounces.

“Oh shit.” Buck whispers through a soft gasp. “Right there.”

“Yeah?” You puff, exhaling deeply. “You want me to keep going?”

“Yes, yes please don’t stop.” He pleads, eyes droopy. His mouth opens but nothing comes out as his neck strains. You can see a vein on the side as he throws his head back. “You’re perfect.”

You put pressure onto Buck’s chest with your hands as you slam down into him. He’s close, that much you can tell by the way he whimpers and tenses.

“You look so fucking pretty like this, Evan.”

His entire chest is flushed red and he has a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. He’s glistening under you. Your orgasm is near as well, his trimmed hair tickling your clit with every move.

“Shit shit, I’m gonna cum again.” He thrusts up.

“Me too, handsome.” You moan, bringing your hand to his throat. You give it a gentle squeeze as you both ride out your highs. Buck’s given up any control as you watch him release.

Your orgasm comes quick and you clench around him, slowing your hips. Before you can come to a full stop, he’s wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you down to him.

You squeak and fall onto his chest. “Babe, hold on. We’re all sweaty.”

“Don’t care, just want to hold you.” He mumbles. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Happy birthday, pretty.” You kiss his temple and slowly pull from him. You feel like a piece of tape, struggling to get out of his arms and skin sticking to his own.

The breeze from the open doors soothed the hotness in your body. You’re still trying to catch your breath as you begin to collect your clothes.

“Stay the night?” He sits up, resting on his elbow and reaching for your hands.

“Buck, we both know that’s not a good idea. As much as I would love to stay, we don’t want to get caught.” You grab his hands and kiss his knuckles. You let his hands go to get dressed.

“When will I see you again?” He gets up from the bed and slips on a clean pair of boxers and his pajamas pants.

“Soon, I promise.” You pull him into a kiss by the waistband of his pants. “Have a great birthday.”

He nods and holds a hand onto the back of your head, bringing his lips to your forehead. You’re both smiling like idiots as he opens his door.

“I’ll walk you to the kitchen.”

“I’ll walk her to the kitchen, goodnight Evan.” You both jump at the sound of Athena’s voice.

“I-“

“Goodnight.” Athena emphasizes and looks between the two of you.

Buck nods and gives a small wave. His hand squeezes your shoulder and moves up to cup your neck before he’s closing the door.

“You best get back home y/n, before someone else catches you.” She kindly scolds. You can see a faint smile on her lips as she escorts you through the palace and to the kitchen. “Don’t make this a habit y/n. I won’t always be around to save you and Buck.”

“Yes ma’am.” You bite your lip and get your bike started. She watches you drive off and shakes her head with a laugh.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

next part (coming soon)

[claradesvoeux]

>At his warm, gentle touch, she raises her gaze from the floor to meet his glance, hesitantly, and she blinks furiously to see through the tears now pooling, stinging in her eyes. She can feel the heat trailing down her cheeks, a waste of warmth that will hurt later when the ice forms on her skin, but she herself is frozen and cannot move to wipe away the tears.

>For a moment, gazing fearfully back at him, her blood runs cold. There is no malice in his face, no sign of anger that she can see. He doesn’t look disgusted either, though she’s never been terribly good at reading people and Graham is certainly better at managing his expressions than she is.

>But if Graham wouldn’t have anyone punished for buggery, and… he said something about all this makes sense? She really isn’t sure in which way he means that, but for a moment she allows herself to be hopeful despite the sickening churning, the anxiety that sits like a ball of lead in her stomach, that things will be alright, that this isn’t the end for her.

>She had hoped, perhaps naïvely, that the worry would dissipate once she’d managed to be brave like Miss EJ, if she ever was able to tell someone else. Would that fear of discovery, perception, disgust, melt away if she could somehow put it to words on her own terms, and save herself the risk of unwanted exposure? And she finds now that Graham knows that she does not feel less scared.

>She finds she is trembling, her shoulders are shaking, and she is fighting back a sob.

>The fear is still there, yes, but Graham is quite remarkably doing nothing. He hasn’t slapped her or rung the bell for a steward to remove her from the ship or told her to pack her things and remove her epaulettes. She feels like a bug under the magnifying glass of the world. She feels that people of dignified society will see her for what she is, small, not at all like them, bizarre in shape and appearance, behaving in a way they cannot understand, justifying the mysteries of her mind through the lens of the animal.

>She feels guilt, and she feels some form of shame within herself. Graham has responded so calmly and rationally, and yet she cannot fathom that he is not repulsed, at the very least perplexed by this oddity of her nature. He must merely hide it well. It’s by no means an underestimation of Graham’s capabilities that she does not believe him—the picture of masculinity, the perfect example of what she should have made herself to be—capable of understanding properly what is going through her head.

>She leans her head forward to rest against Graham’s shoulder, the tears still coming. Her hands to her face, still shaking, she struggles to compose herself, to speak, to respond.

>And yet despite this assumption, that he does not understand, and can’t possibly really grasp the depth or pain of it, or why she is like this… he is still here. He is standing before her; they are both still in her cabin, and he has embraced her as a friend despite it all.

I- I don’t kn-know… I think there’s s-somethin’ wrong w’me Graham

>Her voice hitches, it is thick with the sobs she is biting back.

I d- I don’t wanna f-feel like this but I- I tried ignorin’ it n’s j- it just gets worse

>She can’t hold herself together anymore, and the sobs come freely, tears streaming faster down her cheeks, and she lets them fall, doesn’t wipe them away.

I d-don’t wanna hafta do this, I don’t wanna be b-brave like Miss EJ said, I just wish I was normal, but even then’s.. ‘s wishin’ I was just.. a proper girl

>Her hair has gotten quite long in the winter, down to her shoulders, enough that she can excuse drawing it back with a ribbon and say it’s for the convenience when surely it would be simpler to cut it off, but catching sight of herself in the mirror she still feels like screaming in frustration. It’s not right, it’s too short, it’s not her, it’s not pretty like it should be.

>It would be so much easier to wish just to be a normal man, a proper lieutenant, not a sodomite or whatever else she’s dealing with now, but to do so is more painful than she cares to think about. If she were to wish for normalcy, to never endure this pain, it would be that she should be a normal girl. And that is perhaps how she knows that it will not go away.

@chasdesvoeux

His discharge from the sickbay has left Graham somewhat disorientated. After all he has not received any new orders on where to stay now.

He didn't doubt that in the meantime a new lieutenant has been granted an in-field promotion to fill the gap left by his... disappearance. That's simply what the protocol requires in situations like that, to keep the chain of command intact. His property was either stashed away for his relatives or distributed among the crew already, his cabin handed over to his successor.

He had no reason to seek out this place again. The mere idea of bickering with someone who has clearly earned his promotion over a cot and a wardrobe was ridiculous to him. He has had his fair share of cockfights with other officers before, thus, had no interest in adding another to this useless list.

And yet he found himself standing in front of the familiar door again, still somewhat wobbly on his legs. Despite the daily examinations he had no confidence that he would ever make a full recovery but also knew that he should be thankful for still being able to walk at all.

After a moment of consideration, he knocked at the door.

[philsmeatylegss]

X

[canyonmooncreations]

I can’t stop thinking about bratty princess reader x bodyguards 141

Something something your life is ruined now that your father has hired four broody body guards to be with you at all times. They usually rotate shifts, one staying with you at all times.

Sometimes events call for three of them or all of them. So when it’s time for a royal ball and three of them are needed, Simon opts to sit this one out in hopes to avoid the uncomfortable socialization.

After the ball, John stays at the palace with you and Kyle and Johnny join Simon back at their residence. Simon is absolutely baffled when the boys don’t shut up about how bratty you were and the major attitude adjustment you need.

Talking about how you refused to follow directions, even when they were for your safety. Refused to buckle up in the car and struggled so much that Johnny had to hold you down while Kyle buckled you up. Pouting the rest of the way home. Refused to eat dinner at the ball and insisted they stop at a drive through even though that wasn’t on your itinerary. Threatening to get them fired if they don’t take you.

The boys go on and on about your behavior and Simon just listens, dumbfounded.

“What’s that face for Riley? She even worse with you?” Johnny asks with a frustrated tone.

Simon shakes his head. “No attitude for me.”

The boys both start laughing. There’s no way that’s true. You’re truly a spoiled rotten brat, they think. There’s no way that he’s serious.

They never believe him until there’s an event that calls for all four of them. Simon’s with you at the palace while you get ready. The three boys pull up out front ready for you to join.

They watch as you walk nicely to the car and climb into the middle settling in next to Johnny. Simon climbs in after you. The boys are ready for the battle of asking you to buckle up.

“Buckle, princess” Simon grumbles.

“Yes, Mr. Riley.” The car goes silent. Johnny and Kyle look like their eyes are about to pop out of their head. John doesn’t miss the way your cheeks blushed red.

The car ride is silent. The boys are too shocked to say anything. Since when did you have manners and the ability to follow instructions? John drives with a grin on his face. Simon is unphased as you rest your head on his shoulder.

At the event, you are on your best behavior. You eat your food, move when instructed to move, and smile the whole time. The boys are genuinely so shocked at this new side of you. They watch in awe as Simon approaches you and the ever present feisty look is no where to be found.

“Ready to go?” Simon asks softly.

“Can we please stay a little longer?” You ask so kindly. Simon nods and finds his protective position.

“Did she just say please?” Johnny asked exasperated.

“She doesn’t even know what that word means!?!?” Kyle is just as shocked. John just chuckles and shakes his head.

They then watch as minutes pass and you gently tap Simon and tell him you are ready to leave.

When you get to the car, Johnny decides to put this to the test. Simon gets you in the car and closes the door to talk to the event staff before leaving.

“Buckle up sweetheart.” Johnny instructs.

You give him a polite nod and buckle up quickly. John lets out a chuckle and before Johnny can’t say anything before Simon is joining them in the car. “Bloody hell.” is all that is heard as the car falls silent.

On the way home, you lean over the Simon and ask if you could stop for ice cream. He replies with a simple “No, princess” and is met with no reaction from you. A slight nod and your head falls back against his shoulder.

Kyle is about to lose it. You threatening to get them fired if they didn’t take you through the drive through the other day. What the fuck has Simon done to you??

Something something and now it’s the end of the night. Simon has got you settled into bed and walks into the castle living room to review how tonight went with the security team.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Johnny and Kyle stare at him as if he’s accomplished the impossible.

“Told ya, no attitude with me.”

John chuckles and pats Simon on the back as he grins.

A/n: is this dumb?? It’s been eating my brain for a four hour car ride 😭😭

[tonycries]

MONSTA!

Synopsis. Mama, you’re in love with a criminal monster!

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, weréwolf!Toji, rúts, bíting, ghostface!Choso, slight knífeplay, breéding, creampíes, knots, true form!Sukuna, dp, smácking, NÉEDY boys, vampíres, turning, clan leader!Gojo, cúlt leader!Geto, exhíbitionism (Geto), mentions of having kíds, PÚSSYDRUNK, squírting, bódy worshíp, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 5.9k (whoops)

A/N. First post of kínktoberrrr, hope y’all have a lovely month <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - FULL MOON FULL YOU!

“Baby–” Toji’s raspy baritone vibrates throughout your squirming body, all the way down to where he was unapologetically stuffing you gapingly full. He’s pressing hot kisses along your face, your neck. Everywhere and anywhere. “Baby.”

You’re never seen him this needy. This unable to hold back. 

And suddenly you’re finding yourself flipped over to straddle his strong hips, the bed creaking strenuously when he jabs up all greedy inches stretching your overfilled pussy open. 

There’s nowhere to run - nowhere to hide from Toji and the way he’s simply dragging you down with five of his thick digits wrapped snugly around your throat. “My baby.”

Truly, he was always so mean to you whenever it was a full moon. 

So determined to make sure you end up just as round and glowing as you are in his wettest of dreams. 

You’re gasping, “Wh-what do you-”

“Whoops” He titters, sucking lewdly on your glossy pout, “Did I say that out loud? But, I mean- really silly girl-” Toji bares his elongated canines at your drunken look of shock. Feral. Depraved. “-what else did ya expect coming to a werewolf in rut?”

Drool trickles down the corner of his mouth when the vicious curve of his fat tip draws relentless glides across your g-spot, mapping you from the inside out. Bouncing you precariously on top of him while he fucked up relentlessly over and over-

“Ah!” you’re yelping when Toji bites down harshly on the tender crook of your neck. Hard enough to draw blood, your hips stuttering down in a lewd thwack! onto his sharper ones.

“F-fuck–” the sharp nails on your fingers just dig into his skin, and it makes him grin. “Right there- hah- right there- need you to cum in me again, Toji-”

“Yeah?” he croons from below, quirking up a dark brow. “Think you can handle it- I mean just look.” There’s a low, sultry growl coming from the very depths of his broad chest when Toji’s pulling out ever-so-slightly. His vice-likehold around your neck tightens even more, breath puffing in raggedly hot pants against your cheek. “Look at this.”

And, fuck, you can’t look away. 

Toji’s gripping the red, angry base of his cock, giving the peak of your puffed-up clit a stinging smack! smack! smack! with the very tip of his weep, rotund head. 

And your overspilling pussy just clenches to coat his throbbing cock in such a milky gloss of cum and saturated slick, dredging down to form a creamy ring at the very bottom of his thick hilt. “Yeahhh- think you can handle it, heh.”

As soon as he’s bullying his length back in-between your sopping wet pussy lips, Toji just throws his head back, darkened eyes rolling to the back of his head.

His mouth just waters, heavy cum-filled balls squeezing so painfully, all the blood in his writhing body flowing into a thick knot at his base. And he has to hold himself back from marking down your neck once again. 

“Fuck- fuck yeah tha’s what m’talking- a-about.” His words are slurring now, heaving. You’ve taken him fully before - but he always grew so massive during this time - all the air knocks out of your lungs at how sinfully he stretched you wide open. “Gonna give ya a baby- gonna- ah- gonna make you such a pretty momma.”

And maybe it was because of the rut - maybe you were just that cockdrunk already - but Toji’s rough handling on your hips were veering into bruising territory. Leaving neat little fingernail patterns along your skin, making use of each and every bit of inhuman strength he had to hammer with such pressurized pummels into your poor pussy.

“Oh-” your jaw slacks open when his sloppy hips jerk you to and fro. It’s like his girth was just molding your plush walls to his size. The calloused curve of his thumb dances upwards to roll over your clit, “Feels so- hngh! So good Toji– oh my god-”

“Ya think god can hear ya right now, baby?” he’s leering, jutting his engorged dick upwards until it leaves a messy puddle of his swelteringly hot cum at your thighs, “Tell me how much you hah- want it.”

Each word is just spat at you, and your breathy little whimpers and moans mumble out into his cushiony pecs. “Want it s-so-”

There’s another mean smack against your sensitive clit. “Nuh uh. No stutterin’”

“Toji–!” Big fat tears are streaming down your eyes, ones he lolls his tongue out to catch. Groaning at the slightly salty taste, “Want it so- hah- so bad. Wan’ you to get me pregnant- ngh!”

Such a deep growl is hissed against your kiss-bitten lips, and it’s all it takes before Toji’s breath hitches - rough - and he cums all over again. 

He barely even slows down, grunting out the hoarse mantra of your name. “Oh fuck-” Toji’s feet plant firmly on the silken sheets, arching his back in a tantalizing curve upwards. Achy cock pushing and pushing until he’s managing to squeeze that fattened knot at the very base of his cock through that first ring of muscle. And then he’s shooting such thick spurts of cum all the way into the very back of your pussy, coating your channel in drippingly wet coats of white. “Yeah- fuck- Take it all- m’gonna make you a- ohhh-” 

As if on cue, his teeth find their way back over where your pulse was thundering rapidly. Marking. Claiming. So filthy that it takes only a few more of his hurried, sloppy swivels before you’re cumming as well. 

You’re breathing out shallowly, smoothing out one of your palms over where you could feel the excess of his seed oozing down slowly along your womb. 

“Oh- don’t do that- f-fuck-” Toji was the one stuttering now, his unsteady hips trying desperately to get back that sultry push and pull from before. Difficult with his knot, he was cockwarming you so thoroughly now, all of his solid inches plugging you full - making sure you take his seed the way he wanted to. And it was killing him. 

“When this thing goes down-” He drags you by the throat to crash your lips against his. Free hand patting at your stomach, “-ya better know m’breedin’ ya once more. Until I physically can’t.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - BloodLUST

“Hngh- K-Ken-” your syrupy, slurred-out moans sounds so pretty in Nanami’s ears. So greedy just like the way your drippingly wet cunt calls to him, making such a primal part of himself rear its dark little head. ”It feels so- hah– good-”

“Does it now, my love?” Nanami’s intertwining his fingers with yours, gifting a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. His knees spread apart your trembly legs even further, fucking you harder and harder into the cushiony pillows.

God, the mating press he had you viciously folded into felt so torturously good. Exactly his favorite position to have you in - to spear his thick cock into you like an animal. Jostling out your insides until you were stretched tautly around his swelteringly hot cock, stuffed with so many of his solid inches that you could barely speak. 

Yeah, times like this, Nanami was so entranced by your cunt that his pussydrunk self lets his control slip - just a little bit. He could bare his gentle, fawny eyes with something dangerous. Something that had you gulping, nervous gaze flickering down to his sharply glistening fangs.

“Ken-” you’re pulling him closer by his favorite speckled tie - barely even bothering to change out of his work before he caught a whiff of your bubbly sweet scent. Before he just had to have you. Hot breath sending goosebumps down his spine, “I wan’ you to bite me-”

Slam!

Just the thought of that has him heaving his hand down onto the rickety headboard, jaw clenched. Gritting out, “Don’t- fuck, don’t say things you’re not s-sure about.”

And all he gets is your protesting pout, thighs squeezing even tighter around his broad shoulders. Easily swallowing up every inch after inch that slammed so recklessly into your cunt, clingy ropes of precum seeping out of those bare edges. 

“But I am sure.” Your sweet coo makes him just throw his head back, and he can only pant and pant while you’re bringing up a tender hand up to cup his cheeks. Thumbing just barely over the pointed curl of his canines, “I’m sure I want you to f-fuck bite- me-”

It’s like he’s trying to fuck that little plea out of you. Dragging you down those damply silken sheets with one of his big beefy arms. The other smushing your cheeks together, “Tha’s jus’ this needy pussy talkin’, darling.”

“But Ken don’t you wanna be with m-”

“Hush, now.” he’s dragging a slick thumb over the gaping opening of your pretty pussy, eyeing down in wonder at just how much you seemed to clench at this conversation. Your already drenchingly wet channel sputtering out wave after sloppy wave of squelches each time he buried himself to his blond hilt. “Of course- I wish to only be with you for s’long as you’ll have me.” All the way until Nanami was sure he’d leave the lingering convulses of your pussy clamping around nothing, until your eyes were drooping shut, and those pretty whines were all that smart mouth of yours could get out. “But dontcha think s’better to be human? Better than- this-”

Each of his pressurized plunges have the bed creaking protestingly - absolutely no match, and it was a wonder that you hadn’t broken bones. Yet. 

But you knew that Nanami Kento would never hurt you.

It’s what has you dragging him in for a deep kiss, letting him moan harmonically into your mouth. “M’sure.” Drawling out before he could get a second word in, you’re threading your fingers through his undercut, tugging just slightly enough that his breath hitches in a fully deep gasp. “Please- I wanna be with you Ken-” He’s turning to kiss the golden band of your recent engagement ring, slow and lingering. “-forever.”

Nanami just swallows, “As you wish, my love.”

And then he’s biting you - and then you’re cumming. Only, you don’t know which one comes first.

Just that suddenly your fiancé’s surging his hulking body forwards, crushing you under the heavy weight he can’t hold back. Glinting fangs sinking deep into your booming pulse with a raspy groan, you see white - cumming and cumming so hard that all you can do is drag your nails down his muscled back. 

“Oh-” Nanami gasps out, heaving - as if he’d just run a marathon. He’s holding you so sweetly, but fucking you as roughly as your semi-human body would allow. He only parts with your neck for a split-second, before running his hot tongue over and over in long, languid stripes. Drinking you in. Greedy. “Y’taste so sweet- fuck, always smelt so good but- ahhh fuck you taste so- so perfect.”

It’s only a matter of a few sloppy thrusts into your gooey heaven, him just dragging out your high by knocking feverishly into each of your practiced sweets spots. And with a final, slurping lick - Nanami’s cumming.

SNAP!

His thrumming dick flagging once. Twice. Before gushing out in such wet strands of seed, a creamy mess which fills you from the inside out. Only then is Nanami pulling away, letting you see him in all his utterly fucked-out glory - neat hair askew, high cheekbones blushing, mouth snapping with strands of saliva and your blood. It trickles down the twitching corner of his mouth, smearing lewdly when he rests his face atop your jiggling tits. 

His entire body is shaking. Sensitive. Fuck, he’s almost wondering why he didn’t do this sooner.

“Gonna be mine now.” he utters, guttural and deep from within his panting chest. Shallow. Needy. Jerking forwards in addictive little ruts, his furious cock was still beading out pearlescent ribbons of cum. Overfilling you to the brim. It was stretching out your insides full, dredging down each of your sopping wet wall with each fucked out rut. “Mine.”

Nanami takes his hand off of the now-demolished headboard, intertwining his thick fingers with yours. Kissing that metallic band, “Forever.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Mr. Leader

“Such a naughty girl ya are.” Geto simpers in that dangerously soft tone of his, two of his long, slender fingers draw a sultry circle around the very rim of your sloppily stuffed hole. Just coating it in a glossy sheen of his own cum from earlier tonight, he’s holding it up at the stony-faced crowd on the platform below you two. “Won’t you agree?”

And you can only scrunch your eyes shut in embarrassment at the ripples of whispers - agreement, no doubt, it’s not like anyone had the courage to test your cult leader boyfriend’s patience. Except for you.

“S-Sugu-” you whine. “Don’ hafta be so mean about it-”

You regret the words as soon as they’re tumbling out of your mouth, because that’s all it takes for Geto to unapologetically circle his pretty fingers around the column of your neck. Hauling your pliant self up to straddle his bulgingly angry cock for everyone to see. 

“What was that?” he whispers, lips curling up into a grin. And at your lack of an answer, he’s moving - rocking back and forth in such a slow, purposeful pace. Fingers tightening, “Would you care to repeat that, gorgeous?”

“N-no- ah!” you shake your head, entire body wracking with shudder at the feeling of the absolute mess he was making inside you. Sloshing all over the place, down your trembly thighs, pooling onto the association’s platform. Your hands are jittery once they grab onto his velvety robes, “Didn’t- hngh- didn’t mean it, Sugu…” 

A pout teases its way onto Geto’s face, and with no remorse he’s bending your back into the sluttiest arch for him. Showing off the way those puffy pussy lips of yours were struggling so sinfully around his thick girth, barely being able to accommodate each of the greedy inches you were swallowing so quickly.

“What do you think?” he groans, and you realize with a jolt that he’s not talking to you now. Taunting fingers scissor open your overfilled cunt even more, just having you gapingly held open, “Should I go easy on her?”

Geto doesn’t wait for an answer, instead he’s leveraging that powerful hold around your throat to just drag you down every inch of his thick, throbbing cock. Biting down on his lower lip at the way your gummy walls were so clingy. 

You’re whining an audible ah! ah! ah! at each of his hefty clashes against your g-spot - it echoes all throughout the stage and makes Geto laugh. Laugh.

“They might tell me to go easy-” he’s whispering against your ear, biting down smugly on your jaw. You’re trapped - so utterly helpless in his grasp and fuck do you want it so bad. “-but I don’t know if my girl deserves it.”

Each word of his drips straight to your velvety cunt, clenching in such a lewd pulse that Geto almost considered teasing you about how hard it was to fuck into you just the way he wanted. 

Your sweaty palms cup his face, bringing your lips crashing against his in such a messy, messy kiss. “Please- Hngh- I want it- wanna cum, Sugu. Wanna have you cum in m- mmpf–!”

He’s cutting you off with a harsh suck on your delirious tongue, and another pressurized thrust right into the very depths of your sloppy pussy. You’re all but bawling when he stutters up even harder at his sloppy pace - just rawly bucking up into you, making you take each sweltering kiss his thick head places along your plush walls. 

“Want want want-.” Geto hisses against your lips, gnawing down in warning against them. “All want- I’ve been fuckin’ you for hours now n’ you’re still s-so hah- demanding, gorgeous.” 

His slyly dripping undertone makes you rut your drenched cunt even harder down onto his smackingly sharp pelvis. Another spreading swipe against your sloppily full cunt reveals more of his potent seed dripping out, a sight that makes his mouth water. “Even after I’ve given you so hah- much, still want more, huh?”

And all you can do is nod half-drunkenly, “Want it.” And he has to admire how well you take his bullying thrusts. “Want it, please, Sugu?”

“Well-” that attractively authoritative tone of his voice makes you even more embarrassingly soaked. Planting a slidingly wet kiss against your lips, he raises his voice. “Whaddaya say? Think she’s learned her lesson enough to cum?”

Somewhere in the distance, you think you hear a low “yes.” But you can’t look over your shoulder - not with his steady, vice-like grip still blocking most of your airway. No, but you can just feel the moment when Geto’s bulbously swollen tip just twitches against your cervix, when his smacking balls clench. So hard, so tight.

And the only warning you get - “Cum then, naughty girl.”

Within a few more messy strikes to your g-spot, you do - and it’s all over Geto’s pounding cock, your snug pussy is just gushing all over his crushing hips. Light-headed, vision tinging with black, your nails claw furious red patterns down his wrist at your throat.

“Fuuuuck- yeah, milk yourself. Fuck yourself down on my cock while you cum.” Geto breathes out, voice lilting a few octaves higher than usual. His widened dark eyes lay locked on where your cunt was still coating him in all your slick juices, honeyed and syrupy down into a puddle. “Squirtin’ all over my cock i-in front of- hah- all these people? Ya really are something else, gorgeous.”

Slack-jawed, his glassy gaze only droops in disbelief at the sight of those dredges of cum and your juices dripping down the sopping wet ends of your slit. The way it slipped and slided between you two to make such a glossy mess. “Wastin’ it, too.” 

And you can’t do anything but gasp when his fingers dig even further around your throat, talking - not  you. “Now, do I hafta teach her a lesson about wastin’?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Lookin’ at his t-t-t-FACE!”

“Baby-”

“...”

“Baby, please.” Choso’s gasping, his rounded Adam’s apple bobbing precariously at where you held his pretty little knife deftly to his neck. And despite that, it was the last thing on his mind. “Please- jus’ want ya to fuckin’ move-”

You have to hold back your drunken giggles when he’s practically knocking off his ghostface mask in haste, hurrying to grab a handful of your ass. Squeezing. Kneading. Dragging you downwards to feed inch by fucking inch of his needy cock into your glistening cunt. “Move those pretty hips f’me, why dontcha?”

“Hmmm…” you’re dragging out in that honeyed tone of yours. And it makes the dangerous man just huff so poutily in a way you wished you could kiss away - if only that mask wasn’t in the way, that is. You tug on a soft raven strand of his hair peeking out, “Only if you take that mask off.”

And that makes him keen. It makes him sob. 

It makes him bury his face into the crook of your sweat-sheened neck, easing another riotous half-thrust up into your silken smooth pussy, you’re practically cockwarming him now. “B-but-” Choso whimpers - whimpers. 

One that cracks so lewdly at the end when your cunt gives a clingy squeeze, massaging down the ridges and veins decorating his fat cock. The feeling makes him throw his head back, lips glistening with fucked-out drool. 

He’s trying oh-so-desperately to swivel his achy cock even deeper inside you, hips jutting upwards to rummage your insides tentatively. The very bulbous tip of his cock swirling your insides so deliciously. 

“Please-”

“Take it off.”

Such a pretty cry wrenches out of Choso’s mouth when your glossed lips press a chaste peck onto his mask, accompanied by such a slutty arch of your hip downwards. Snug cunt milking him with just an ounce of what he was begging for. Just a taste. “Please- please please plase- fine- fuck! You win! Just please-” And you’re barely even given the time to react before he’s snatching back the knife in your hands. Cutting off his mask in an easy motion. “-fuck me!”

And oh was this ghostfaced intruder so pretty - his dark, dewy eyes filled to the brim with pussydrunk tears, lids drooping down slowly when he feels himself twitch. Hair disheveled and damp, there was such an innocently rosy blush all over his cheeks. 

With wobbly, ravaged lips, he pleads, “Please. Fuck me, baby. Use me.”

And you just can’t help but slam your stuttering hips so sloppily down onto his, feeling the echoing smack! of his tight balls sting against your ass. Just two seconds of your riding him has him whining, his greedy hands didn’t know where to be now - at your poor, neglected clit, or maybe guiding your tantalizingly perky nipples to his mouth, maybe even letting you take back his prized knife. 

“Oh-” your mouth crashes messily into his. Hypnotic. Each push and pull of your tongues is accompanied by your sopping wet pussy coating him in another wave after wave of syrupy slick. It leaves him speechless. “Such a pretty, pretty boy. What a hah- shame you wear that mask.”

His head was so fucked. Just that little compliment makes him throb, hauling you down even further to feel his syrupy sweet precum sloshing around your gummy walls. The angry rounded divot on his fat head jostling inside you to bang right into your poor g-spot. It just felt so good.

“You- you think I’m hngh- pretty?” He’s batting his long lashes up at you, and you feel his strong arms tighten around the small of your waist. Your hardened nipples scratch so tantalizingly against the fabric of his thick black cloak. “You really- really think I’m-”

Each word is heaved out in-between such sloppy thrusts, and the way you’re sucking him up so needily - so heavenly makes him moan. And you could’ve sworn you felt his achy shaft grow two sizes larger, contorting your elastic walls.

Sucking on your tongue between his pretty lips, “You’re so- fuuuck- didn’t know it could feel this good. Ngh- please- more- want more-”

“So greedy–” you teasing, eyeing down at the way that only makes his blush grow darker. But that doesn’t stop him - no, the very thought of stopping isn’t anywhere on Choso’s mind. 

In fact, he’s only shuddering out a few sloppy thrusts into your gummy cunt before taking your sensitive clit between two fingers. Rolling his thumb gingerly, he mewls through lingering kisses. “Does it feel good, baby?” And oh he can’t take his eyes off of you, rutting upwards to chase after the lewd squelch! squelch! squelch! from down below. “You’re ah- t-taking me so ngh, well. Fuck-” Head just throwing back at the mere sight of your puffy folds stretching out widely around his girth, bulging when he unapologetically bullies every inch of him. “Please- tell me it feels good.”

Your grip just sears across his scalp when you tangle your fingers through his soft strands, baring his entirely pussydrunk face. His fucked-out grin, the way each bouncing pace of your hips had it growing wider and wider, eyes rolling to the back of his head. So pretty.

“Mhm, so good, Cho–” you moan, your fully stuffed cunt flutters at just how shamelessly that makes him throb. Letting you hover his knife just barely up, up, up his heaving chest, nipping lightly at Choso’s pale neck. “Makes me so hah- h-happy when you’re behaving f’me. Like you’re my good boy.”

He’s nodding before you’re even finishing the sentence, one hand tightening at your waist. Bruisingly so. The other drawing insistent, messy little circles, “Mhm, m’your good boy– always gonna be- hngh-” It drags from his throat guttural and raw. Leaning up to kiss such a sloppy kiss against your lips, “N’ I wanna fuck you like I am, baby.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Demon time?

“Tch-” You’re gulping when the towering demon in front of you quirks up his brow sharply. Admonishingly. Crossing all four of his arms over his muscled chest while you sat all pretty and fucked-out on his manspread lap. “How are ya gonna summon the king of curses n’ not even be able to take both his dicks, brat?”

He’s rolling his eyes at you’re protesting little whines, shifting done further on his decadent throne to have his fat cockspearheading even deeper. 

Smack! All five of his thick fingers burn brandingly into the fat of your ass, the very motion makes you jump, your trembly legs tightening around his toned waist. 

“Now now, I didn’t say to jus’ act all cute n’ cockdrunk, did I?” His rough hands push apart your legs even more, another third hand is slotting into the hot core between your legs. And Sukuna smiles at the way you’re so soppingly wet, squeezing your puffed-up folds even further apart to swallow his twin girths. “All I want is for you to- take- it-”

Oh, right now you couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even breathe with the way it felt like Sukuna was stretching out your insides so sinfully. Your pussy being stuffed to her poor limits, both of his hefty cocks bully their greedy way inside you. 

“O-oh–” you’re whining so sweetly in his ear when one of his fat, bulbous tips press up into your g-spot. Slow. Still. But not for long - because that large, ravenous tongue split across Sukuna’s abs open wide to slurp at your pulsing clit. Depraved. “Kuna- oh my god it f-feels so good- hngh-”

“Kuna?” he seethes. Each of his stacked cocks find their way knocking at your womb, marking you where no human had before - exactly how he liked it. “You dare call the king of curses “Kuna” brat?”

Tearily, you look up into his glowingly red eyes, “M’-m’sorry, Sukuna- didn’t think-”

But any and all answer is purposefully being fucked out of your now thoroughly hazy brain. He’s grabbing at your hips to plunge into your drippingly wet channel, brandishing that tongue on his stomach to roll harshly over your clit. Circling the very tip over and over the sensitive nub - all while he simply lounged on his royal throne. 

“Didn’t tell ya to not call me that, did I?” Sukuna scoffs, and if you were in any better state of mind you could’ve sworn that there was a light tinge of red tainting the very tips of his ears. “Tch- now don’t you fuckin’ look at me with those pretty eyes-” He’s giving your ass another clingy smack! Having you bouncing up and down easily along both of his impressive girth. “If ya wanna be fucked by a demon so bad then be fucked, woman.”

And shit- you could already feel the way his sharp hipbones dug into your ass, the resounding thwack! thwack! thwack! of his heavy, twitching balls echoing across the dimly-lit throne room you’d been thrust into. 

“Please- Kuna–” your arms make their limp way around his neck. And the slight change in angle has him assaulting into the line of your cervix, fucking two girthy divots into the spongy bottom. You crane upwards to kiss him in a way that makes him smile at how you struggle. “M’gonna feel ya for the next week, hngh- s’so much better than any human–”

Smack!

“What a naughty little minx ya are.” he jeers, but you could feel the way his throbbing cocks weep happily at your admission. Flooding your cunt with splatters of heated precum, slobbering out of you with each of his animalistic rams. “Really underestimated you, little human- hah! N’ look at you now, about to cum all because of a big bad demon. Aren’t ya embarrassed?” 

You couldn’t shake your delirious head “no” fast enough, and not wasting a moment’s time Sukuna’s planting such a deep kiss on your pouty lips. “Well then, aren’t you an interesting one, huh? Begging for the king’s cock.”

“Mhm–” you’re mewling, gliding your drooling pussy easily down his bulging cock. “Wan’ you- wanna cum- wanna- hah-”

You’re gifted with another one of his mean slaps, “Make up ya damn mind, brat. So greedy.”

But he doesn’t stop - doesn’t even think of it, actually. Because Ryomen Sukuna would never admit it but fuck, were you so perfect like this. So gorgeous. So very his. 

You’re already so full of him that you could almost spot the massive outlines of where he was steadily attacking your sweet spots. Draw a line across where he ended, rotund heads marking their way inside.

That he can’t help but increase that strikingly sloppy staccato of his, fucking you repeatedly stupid. He just lunges forwards to have you riding both his monster cocks and his tongue, the stimulation of it making him bite his lower lip. 

“Oh- yeah–” It takes every embarrassed fiber of his being to stop from rolling his eyes to the back of his head. The fourth of his beefy hands coming up to tweak your hardened nipples, tugging and teasing - just barely treading with his long nails. “Cum all over my cocks then if ya- hngh- if ya like it that much.” His feral hips snap! up even harder, leaving you with a final, unforgettable smack! “Cum for me, my queen.”

“Fuck- m’cumming-” you’re whining not even a split-second later. Head thrown back, your hips stutter down frantically to meet his, over and over- you can’t stop. He can’t stop. “M’cumming m’cumming- fuck fuck fuck, Kuna-”

Two of his engulfing arms wrap around you, pinning you to his cushiony pecs. He’s wrenching out each white-hot spark of pleasure, making your toes curl at every clash against the bullseye of your g-spot, every blissful lick to your clit. He groans throatily, smug grin simpering in place, “Yeah- heh, best believe m’keepin’ you after this.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Madam.

There’s such a saccharine sweet whine leaving Gojo’s pouty mouth, fingers twitching wildly where they were pinning you down onto the cushiony pillows. “F-fuck- stop- hah, stop squeezin’ me like that or m’gonna cum early on our wedding- night-”

You can only jitter your hips back into his even further, knees aching from holding you up for so long now. Just a few hours ago you’d been wedded to the infamous head of the Gojo clan and now - well, now he was well and fully intent on proving to everyone in this estate exactly why you’d make the perfect madam.

“Toru–” you’re mewling, looking over your trembly shoulder to spy upwards at him. Fuck, the elders would faint if they saw how utterly defiled he was right now. 

His strong arms twitchy and flexing with each hammering thrust, the weight of his muscled thigh hiked up to pummel at the very bottom of your spongy pussy. You felt so soft, so soppingly wet inside with sloshes of his seed from before coating him with each passing second. 

“Heh.” Gojo hovers forwards to pat at your tummy, cutely bloated with all of his throbbingly thick inches. “All stuffed full of me- isn’t that right, wifey?”

“Y-yes.” 

“Nuh uh, louder, sweetheart.” he cuts off your babbling. “Wan’ everyone in this godforsaken house to hear.”

The bed creaks in sinful synchrony with your sappy whines, and the lingering smack! of his hips against yours, achy cum-filled balls sticking to your thighs. Shit, he saw stars behind his eyes with each clingy pull out of your tight pussy - and it drove him mad. 

“I-  I want-”

“Louder.”

“Fuck- yes!” It’s just about all you can get out before he’s crashing his pussydrunken-grin against yours in a messy clash of a kiss. Tongue lolling out to suck on yours, glassy eyes drooping just barely shut. You moan, “I want you to cum inside me again- Now. Gimme an hngh- heir.”

Oh. 

Oh fuck, that did it. 

“You want an heir?” he breathes, and it’s about several octaves higher than normal. Raspy. Reverant. “An heir- fuck!” Suckling softly on your neck, “S’my pretty wife wants an heir, huh?”

The very thought makes him giddier than it should’ve, and oh he’s choking back guttural whimpers. The sensitive divot at the very end of his swollen cock emitting steamingly hot wisps of milky white precum already. 

“Mhm–” you’re nodding, keening at the hefty weight of his muscled body pressing down into yours. Rippling abs rubbing up and down against your back at each jaggedly sloppy thrust, it’s like he’s just hauling you further and further up the decadent mattress. Batting your tearful lashes. “Want it so bad- Wontcha breed me, Toru? Fill me up?”

At this, one of his massive arms comes down to press hard at your womb. And fuck he was practically squeezing you dry, letting the thickly hot dredges of his cascade down your thighs. 

“Ohhhh yes. Look at that.” he’s groaning, the curving head of his fat cock bumping into those various ridges of your sweet spots inside. “Already so full of me and you hngh- w-want more? The new madam is getting bossy, hm?”

God, you felt so good that you’re scrambling towards those plushy expensive covers. Stammering out, feeling so delirious and stupid on his massive cock. “S-so what? What if I jus’ wan’ make you a daddy?”

He’s kissing oh-so-gently against your spit-glossed pout, acting for all the world as if his vigorous cadence isn’t just rendering you half-speechless. “Nothing wrong- ah- nothing wrong at all, in fact.”

That squelching staccato from down below was so loud now that you were sure it would be heard. But Gojo didn’t care - the last thing on his mind in fact. Gojo’s driving even more vigorously to kiss your g-spot with more of his precum. “In fact- I just hope that every one of those fuckers know it.”

And perhaps tomorrow, none of those usually-sneering elders will look you in the eye, and all of the housestaff will blush when they see your state - but right now, all you’re doing is cumming. 

“T-Toru–!” you’re screaming out, letting him grab both your wrists from behind you to drill himself even more solidly. He’s letting all the sloppy mess from before pool down onto the sheets, a lewd puddle that makes him slip n’ slide even deeper inside. “M’cumming- fuck fuck fuck- m’cumming ah-”

And Gojo only flashing you a leering smirk, hoisting you upwards to fuck you through each and every one of those crashing waves of pleasure, those jolts of electricity that have you twitchy so perfectly around his considerably large girth. “Heh- I already know, sweetheart. Can feel ya- hngh- trynna milk me- fuck. This pussy’s too- hah- good-”

His smug smile is dipping away from his pretty face, sweat perspiring like crazy across his lolling forehead. And before long, Gojo’s crying out your name like a broken mantra. Rough hands coming to pin you up against his hard muscled front, just pumping you full of every single one of his sticky ribbons of cum. 

It’s so hot, so potent, barrelling into your gummy walls and making you so soaked inside. His body shakes on top of yours, and you’re flinching at the soft pitter patter of his big, fat tears of sensitivity.

“Oh- my wife- my wife my wife-” he bites his bottom lip raw, head thrown back, throat shot. Cumming and cumming until he couldn’t anymore. Until his sensitive length was weeping nothing more than milky wisps of precum, blanks, even. Pulling out ever-so-slightly, he watches the sheer volume of seed slobber from between your syrupy sweet folds, squelch squelch squelch so loud it rings across his ears. 

Satoru catches your lips in such a gentle, gentle kiss, “Again. I don’t think the entire estate knows they’re having an heir soon, yet.”

A/N. Hnghgh vampire Nanami - also I headcanon that the elders got the Gojo Estate soundproofed after that.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[nanaslutt]

nanami overstimulating himself to make sure his pretty gf gets off >.<

minors and ageless blogs dni

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ ࿔

telling nanami “don’t stop” when he’s fucking you because youre sooo close, but he’s at his limit. he tries to relax his kegels so he lasts longer but he can’t help it, it feels too good and you’re so tight around him as you’re working up to your orgasm he can’t help but cum inside you

he keeps fucking you though his orgasm, teeth gritted and eyes rolling back in his head. all he wants to do is freeze up and let his body jerk and flex and he fills you up, but he can’t just leave you unsatisfied. it’s taking everything in him not to stop thrusting, his groans are so loud in your ears.

he abruptly pulls you on top of him and bounces you in his lap, his legs are shaking from overstimulation but he needs you to get there. “use me, make yourself come on me sweetheart.” his words are rushed and breathy, but he manages to get them out. you place your hands on his chest and slow your bouncing, feeling his come start to drip out of you.

“but you already came, ken.” you reason, your voice just as ruined as his as he helps you rock your hips back and forth on his pelvis. his cock is twitching, and his abs are spamming from overstimulation. every atom in his body is telling him to stop fucking you because it’s too much, it feels too good it hurts, but he can’t leave you hanging.

“i know, finish yourself off. don’t worry about me, I can take it.” and take it he does. you start bouncing on his lap and nanami has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from crying out. his tip is so sensitive and you keep thrusting it right against your sweet spot, it’s making him dizzy.

nananmi’s thighs are pressed together to tight, his legs are nearly crossing as his body tries to excape from the painful pleasure, but he grunts and breaths through it. he’s already hard again, forced to get up from your warm walls fucking him and sucking him in. it doesn’t help that you’re so much wetter from his orgasm now, it’s so fucking much tears well in his eyes.

“kento, kento.” you cry, and nanami nods, biting his lip as he forces his eyes open to find your clit with his thumb. he rubs quick, sloppy circles against the little bud, his body shaking and jerking when he feels your walls tighten around him. “come, come honey, f-fuck.” he doesn’t curse a lot during sex, but this called for it.

the second he feels you orgasm around him, his balls draw up and he’s cumming too. his back arches and he wraps his arms around you, keeping you flush against him and still while he fills you up. his eyes are crossed and he swears he’s seeing stars behind his eyes from his hard he’s cumming.

“don’t move.” he grunts in your ear, his sensitive cock twitching with his aftershocks against your walls. if you moved again he would pass out, his tip is probably so red it’s going to ache when he pulls it out of you. “don’t move until… until i tell you to.” he grunts out, biting his lip as he feels his cum overflow from your pussy and drip down his dick.

[nezuscribe]

arguing with arranged!gojo is difficult because he’s not used to arguing with women and you’re not used to arguing period.

it rarely happens, but when it does it gets really heated between the two of you. you pace around your room, huffing as gojo stands there with his arms crossed, nose flaring.

like that one time he found out that one of the new guards the brought in from the west was somebody you used to fool around with.

yeah that was bad.

“why do you even care!” you snap at him, and he can’t find a plausible reason aside from the fact that he was purely jealous.

this guard that they’d brought in from the west, much to your shock, was somebody you used to see in the late hours of the night. you never did anything frisky, just some shared kisses here and there.

but the moment you saw him, your whole demeanor changed. and gojo could tell. it took a bit of picking and prodding (which gojo is great at) but you eventually told him the story.

and he was not excited to hear it.

“i want him gone,” he tells you and you roll your eyes, shrugging indefinitely.

“fine,” you throw your arms up, “get him out. but what about those girls? you think i don’t want them gone whenever we walk into one of those balls or those dinners? when i see the way they look at you? you think that’s easy for me?”

“it’s different,” his tone is unwavering and cold.

you scoff, shaking your head in dismay.

“what? what’s so different? that i kissed him? big deal!” you feel like you want to cry and yell and jump and scream at the same time.

because it was different. for you. because the men didn’t seem to care that gojo had a new wife, or that he cared for her. but the ladies did. they gossiped in frenzied tones, batted their eyelashes at him even more as if that could cast him away from your spell.

so you didn’t know why he cared so much about this one man. why it should matter to him when he’s had far, far more experiences than you.

you felt hurt that he doubted you, angered with his hypocrisy, and tired from spending the entire day ignoring each other.

“this is going nowhere,” you mutter eventually, picking up your pillow as his eyes drop to your hands, “i’m sleeping somewhere else.”

“what-”

“and don’t follow me,” you bite out, not even glancing behind your shoulder as you begin to sulk out of your shared bedroom to your old one all across the estate.

and sure, maybe you’re not being entirely fair. there’s been some petty arguments when he bumps into one of his old girls, but it didn’t hurt nonetheless when he accused you of lying, when the conversation of your old romantic life was just never brought up.

you wipe at the stray tears on your cheek as you slug down the stairs, sniffling to yourself as you curse your husband to hell and back, when a force unlike any other picks you up from behind.

“what?” you squeal, your body manicured over a strong shoulder, your legs near his torso, your eyes facing his back as you kick at him, “let me go, i’m going to fall!”

“don’t make me laugh,” gojo murmured, one strong arm around your waist, the other around your thighs as he hauls you back up the stairs.

“i told you not to follow me,” you grumble, pinching his back but he doesn’t react.

“you’re funny if you think i’ll let you sleep alone.”

your brows furrow, feeling the need to kick him, but also not wanting him to drop you.

it doesn’t take long for him to reach your bedroom, opening the door with his free hand (unbridled strength if the greatest warrior of the north meant he could pick you up with just one hand) and plops you back on the mattress.

you prop yourself up on your elbows, looking away, hoping he can’t see the tear marks.

because it did hurt. his words hurt you. they cut deep. and he notices, his gaze softening slightly.

“don’t cry,” he whispers, leaning down to trace your tears away but you swat his hand off of your face.

“then don’t make me cry,” you say with a heavy sigh, siting upwards, back slightly hunched.

you take a deep breath, rubbing at your eyes as you glance upwards at him. it’s been a while since the two of you had fought, and the first time over something serious, and he looks awful.

“i don’t judge you for being with those girls,” you start with a heavy whisper, “you did what you could to stay sane. but don’t judge me for doing the same.”

gojo breathes deeply through his nose, blinking.

“you’re right,” he says after a heavy second, causing you too look up in confusion.

he nods again, his big hand cup your jaw, his thumb rubbing your cheek as he catches the stray tear from the corner of your eye.

“you’re right and i’m sorry,” he repeats, and you’ve never had somebody agree with you before, “i just…saw the way he looks at you and…i didn’t like it.”

you offer him a small nod.

“but he just looked at me,” you shift so that your resting on your haunches, hands in your lap. he towers over you, one hand going to cradle the back of your head.

gojo shrugs, like he can’t put it into comprehensible words how he felt when that guard looked at you with hunger in his eyes. how only he was allowed to look at you with such starvation.

“i didn’t like it,” he can only repeat, and you know he struggles with his emotions, spent years hiding them so that they wouldn’t become his weakness.

“do you want to sleep?” he finally asks you, and you slowly blink, trying to hide the tiredness from your face.

“i’ll still be here when you wake up,” he offers and you crack a small smile, trying to hide it from him.

but your smile drops as you think, eyes darting up to his.

“it’s okay to not like something, and it’s okay to feel angry that you don’t. but don’t ever, ever, make me feel like that again because of it.”

your stare is unwavering, and he feels a certain sense of pride in seeing that. and gojo nods, one steady movement as he drops down to his knees, trying to be level with your gaze.

“you have my full authority to strike me down if i do,” he promises, his hands cupping your face, his words serious but you can’t help but giggle.

“good,” you murmur, tugging slightly harshly on some of the strands of his hair as he winces, pushing you back onto the bed with the sheer force of his body, climbing up into you as he hold you close to him.

you let out another laugh as he acts like a bear cub, not wanting to move an inch away from your warmth as he cuddles into you, trying to finish his massive size compared to you.

the two of you laid in silence, a comfortable one, as he laid his head in your chest, hearing the steady rhythm of your heart.

“i am sorry,” he whispers, craning his neck to look up at you as he rests his chin on your sternum, “i’m sorry.” he says again, his words barely above a sound.

you blink again, moving some of the hair away from his face as you observe his sorrowful features.

“i know,” you whisper back.

gojo finds your hands, interweaving your fingers together, heart tugging when he feels your ring against his skin.

he brings the finger to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against the ring as you watch him silently. no other words needed to be said, no words left unspoken as he pulls you into his chest.

because no woman would amount to a sliver of you. and no man would amount to a morsel of him.