#can't control muscles in there yet

[eatember]

-

[ame-to-ame]

there are things that you don't do for a year or more and pick up just right where you left off and these days i fear loving you might be one of them

[blackvahana]

Because you know. If Madness is my venom that decays the body and kills you I may as well kill you

[saetoshis]

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ LET'S PLAY A GAME | kny headcanons

⋆୨୧˚ WITH: sanemi ; giyuu ; tengen ; kyojuro ; obanai

⋆୨୧˚ SUMMARY: how much do they like to tease you?

⋆୨୧˚ MATURE CONTENT WARNINGS:

fem reader, teasing/begging, pet names [pretty girl, baby], orgasm control, mentions of dacryphilia, mentions of restraint/bondage, MDNI

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ SANEMI: 10/10

sanemi lives to see you yearning for his touch. he just can't get enough of your little whines and pleads for his hands on you, and the way you paw at the bulge in his pants so desperately makes his every muscle tense up in anticipation - but his favorite part is seeing just how far he can push you.

"what's that, pretty girl? you want what?" sanemi sneers, knowing fully well what you just said but he just can't help playing dumb to see how sexually frustrated you can get. he kneels over where you're laying, a hand palming the bulge in his pants nonchalantly. "this? this what you want? hm?"

"yes, please, seriously," you whine out between heaved breaths, your flushed aura making you hot and a bit irritated from how much he's withholding you. your fingers flit over your panties, finding your clit in an attempt to appease the high tension building in your body. "can't take it anymore... please, just give it to me."

"well, since you asked so nicely," sanemi jeers as he slips his pants just beyond his hips, his cock pressing against your twitching, achy clit. he lets out little grunted breaths as he rocks his hips, head catching against your sensitive nerves again and again. he can see the dissent on your face when you realize he's not slipping in anytime soon.

"what's that look, huh?" sanemi feigns innocence, adoring the way you pout and whine at him, begging so desperately to be filled up the way you want to. he sneers between a tantalizing smile, "beg me a few more times n' i'll think about it."

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ GIYUU: 3/10

giyuu doesn't instinctively lean towards withholding himself from you, and he's never really thought about the idea of seeing you beg for him. he's not too keen with the notion of beating around the bush, as it were - and yet, all it takes is your demeanor all needy and pliable in his lap with pleads falling from your lips for his mind to wander.

"can't help it, just so horny..." you mutter through little panted breaths, letting your hips grind and roll against his clothed cock in tandem with the rise and fall of your chest. you feel giyuu's fingers flit against your thighs as his eyes wander across your frame, all until he pulls away, unusually. your eyes flicker up at his expression, and all you can pronounce is a little, "huh?"

"wanna see you do it yourself," giyuu murmurs under his breath, his pants feeling stiffer underneath where you're sitting so prettily for him. he wants to fuck you - bad, but right now he wants to see how far he can take it before you fall apart into pieces. with a little push of his hips up against you, he leers, "i know you want to."

you feel a sliver of tingles down your spine at the change in his demeanor, and your hips almost start rutting on their own. every time you make eye contact with him, you're met with a stern gaze - who would've known this side of him could turn you on so much? your voice comes out in a whimper as you let your now-wet panties grind against his bulge, "i'll do anything if you just touch me, please. fuck me- hah, can't take it."

maybe it's the way you finally look so desperate, so messy, flushed, and shuddering on his lap that causes him to finally give in - and when he does, you're really in for it.

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ TENGEN: 11/10

tengen lives to see you a whining, teary-eyed mess just for him. he'll do anything to see you shudder, to feel you getting wetter from just one look, to even hear your pleads become more and more broken and whimpered. he just can't help but enjoy it even when you hop on top of him in attempt to get back at him.

"what's this, huh?" tengen sneers as he watches the little determined look on your face as you sink down onto his cock, refusing to move in efforts to give him a taste of his own medicine. he lets out a little chuckle at the way you cross your arms all serious and tough-like. he lets his hands glide along your hips, "really...? is this a punishment or something?"

"mhm," you hum with a nod, trying to ignore the fact that the head of his cock is poking up right against that spot that makes your knees weaken. you keep your resolve, occasionally grinding your hips to see how he reacts - maybe he'll jolt, let out a little moan - but he doesn't, and you start to feel a little discouraged. you drag your hands along his chest and his abs, pressing kisses against his neck in a desperate attempt.

"feels good, doesn't it? my cock all pushed inside you like this," tengen murmurs against your ear, his voice sending a shudder down your spine and you tighten around him just enough for him to know he's affecting you. his hands caress your waist, your back, your hips - he knows it's working, and that's pissing you off even more. "you can lemme have just a little, can't you, baby?"

it only takes a few more sickly sweet whispers from tengen's lips for him to have you bouncing on his lap, mind boggled as slick smothers messily around his shaft. maybe next time you'll try something different to tease him with.

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ KYOJURO: 7/10

kyojuro oftentimes likes to give you what you want, as you properly deserve - although, the same can't always be said for him in bed. it's like a switch flips, and all he can desire and cultivate are those little whiny moans pleading for him to just 'keep going, don't stop.'

"don't stop what?" kyojuro murmurs with a little smirk on his face and slick covering his fingers and palm. his thumb nudges your clit ever so gently, his fingers finding their way to his tongue to clean off the mess that you've already made of them. he watches your hips jolt in desperation, and he chuckles softly in that innocent manner he always does. "need it that much, do you?"

you let out a little groan of dissent, rocking your hips in an attempt to get his thumb to circle your clit a little faster - just at least a little. he sees the way your muscles shudder in anticipation, and maybe he feels he's been a bit mean. with a little murmur of 'this what you want? here?' and his fist around his cock, he finally presses between your walls with a stifled grunt, "that's it, isn't it? right there..."

"yes, yes, fu- yes," you practically whimper, feeling elation coursing through your every nerve as he rocks his hips slowly, intentionally. each press of his cock fills the hilt of your cunt and you can feel your sanity draining each time he ruts forwards. faster, then faster, even faster still, your consciousness fades just as fast as your orgasm builds. "f-feels so good, fuck."

kyojuro lets out a chuckled sneer as he caresses your cheek, hips rocking hard against yours. "feels better after being patient, doesn't it? maybe i'll have to tease you more often."

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ OBANAI: 6/10

teasing manifests for obanai as more of a power play than anything else. his whims aren't always consistent; sometimes he'll make you touch yourself without his help at all, other times he'll keep your hands restrained so there's no way you could even help yourself if you wanted to. but this time, it's a bit different.

"shh, shh... what did i say? wait," obanai murmurs lowly as his fingers curl intentionally against that spot that makes you feel like you're falling apart at the seams. his other hand finds your clit, circling it in tandem with each press of his fingers inside of you. you shudder desperately beneath him, voice coming out in hitched mews. obanai repeats himself, "no cumming 'til i say so."

you nod your head in obedience weakly, finding it harder and harder to fight the jolts of pleasure wracking your limbs. each aching curl of his digits makes your whole spine tingle, and you use all of your strength to hold back. that is, until he swaps his fingers for the hard cock in his fist. "please..."

"please, what? i told you," obanai lets out a hitched breath as he slips himself between your walls, finding your saccharine, desperate pussy an immediate relief for the unforgiving throb in his cock. he pushes your thighs apart and watches you shiver, curling over you broodingly, "no cumming 'til i say so."

you hold onto your sanity for dear life, but the wet smacks and lewd moans filling the room are enough for you to teeter over the edge of oblivion. you're lucky that obanai is right there with you, gripping your waist and fucking into you with a wanton need - it seems this time you'll just barely make it in time.

SAETOSHIS 2024. do not copy/repost.

tagging: @suyacho

[sukunasteeth]

Taking Care of a Tired Sukuna

Sukuna has had a long day.

Well, night.

Morning.

Fuck.

Working construction had been twisting up his sleeping schedule. At this point, Sukuna was starting to feel it in his body; in the strain in his muscle, and the aches and pains that randomly gripped him.  

They had him working on a new project that could only be done at night, while the public was off the main roads, and that meant his new work hours were starting from sometime in the middle of the evening and ending in the morning or the mid-afternoon. Being nocturnal wouldn't be so bad if his commute home wasn't during rush hour. The traffic was always worse when he just wanted to crawl onto his couch and fall asleep there. And when he does come home at the end of the day - he's aching, exhausted, and every bone in his body is vibrating with the noise from a jackhammer or the hum of a forklift.

Sukuna has always liked something that keeps him busy, interested, something that tests his strengths. So, he can't say that he hates the job, but he does wish that it wouldn't occupy so much of his time. He's wont to forget things when he's so wrapped up in a new task.

Like today, for example, when he finally swings his truck around the front of his apartment building, barely making it off the freeway without murdering someone, and he spots your car parked there in his spot.

He starts a bit, his sleep deprived brain suddenly spinning as memory serves him. 

That's right. You were supposed to come over today after he got off of work and spend the night- and he didn't plan a damn thing. There's no flowers in the backseat, he didn't stop to grab lunch for the two of you, he doesn't even have anything in his fridge for dinner tonight, besides a few forgotten beers tucked away in the side door.

As Sukuna searches for a parking spot much further down the street, he knows he should be disappointed with himself, but he can't help the touch of excitement that's suddenly dissolving the exhaustion from his muscles. Sometimes, Sukuna resents the fact that you manage to reduce him to this. He hates that he can't control that his heart skips a beat at the thought of seeing you again, like he's in some sappy romance novel.

But it was the hold you had on him, and he was starting to accept it.

~

You got to Sukuna's apartment about two hours before he was scheduled to be home. It was a day off for you, and you woke up with butterflies fluttering around in your chest.

You were giddy to see him. You always were. And not a single butterfly has died in your heart-space for him since the moment you met Sukuna, around two years ago. He has tended to each of them since then with his gentle but stubborn touch, although, he would never admit it.

You adored him for that.

It's still early in the morning when you use the key he had made for you to unlock his front door. Immediately upon stepping in, you're hit with how dark his studio is. The sun had risen over the horizon hours ago, and yet, the only hint of its light came from a small gap in Sukuna's blackout curtains. When you pull them back, you turn around and wince at the room behind you.

Yep, he's working too hard.

There's construction tools all over the house; sitting on the counter, in the sink, on his bed-stand, there's even a huge oil covered machine beside the front door that you nearly trip on in your trek over to the curtain. His coveralls and work clothes are strewn across the living room like he's been too exhausted to even make it to his bed at the end of his days, which is not very far from the couch. Meanwhile, his bedroom and the kitchen look nearly immaculate, telling you he hasn't cooked in days and confirming your suspicions about his sleeping arrangements. You wander over to his fridge and pop it open, sighing hopelessly when you're greeted with nothing inside.

Good thing he has you. 

~

By the time he makes it home, it's around one in the afternoon. You've got his laundry hanging on the clothesline outside, more in the washing machine, and all of his tools and odds and ends have been sorted and dusted clean. You've opened every window he has, and cool, fresh air sweeps away the oppressed darkness his apartment held before. Everything was back in equilibrium. 

When his keys jingle outside the door, you're just finishing up the last of folding his laundry. Sukuna steps inside, and your heart aches at how drained he looks despite the way his eyes widen as he peers around the room in surprise. His clothes are covered in dust from the construction site, and there's a smear of dirt on his cheek that makes him look like a chimney sweep. There's a tool in his hand that looks rather heavy, straining the muscles in his arm, but he seems to have momentarily forgotten to put it down. Half moon circles are embedded under his eyes, but they only bring out the intensity of his gaze. 

"Hi 'Kuna?" You chime, calling his attention to rest on you.

He blinks, taking a moment to process the situation. You don't recognize the glimmer in his eyes then, and part of you starts to sweat at the thought of him taking this all wrong. Sukuna had never been particularly picky with you, but vice versa, you had never done something like this for him before. He never gave you the opportunity, after all. Out of the two of you, Sukuna was usually the one who was always effortlessly put together.

"You... cleaned..." He notes. 

You swallow, "I did but I didn't move things around though. Just tried to put things back. Your laundry is right outside and I got you some groceries-" Sukuna drops the tool in his hand without warning, and you start talking faster, your voice raising a pitch as he starts towards you. "Okay, thinking back, I guess I should have asked. Maybe texted- no, you hate texting. Maybe called-"

“Did you clean the paint specks off of my air compressor?” He was standing in front of the machine beside the front door, which you painstakingly made sure not to ruin in your cleansing, despite having no idea what it was. 

When he looks at you for an answer, continuing to close the distance between the two of you. You swallow the rock in your throat. “Too much?” 

He’s made his way across the room and his surprised expression finally settles into a familiar hungry grin. He grabs you by the hem of your jeans, yanking you roughly towards him. You catch yourself on his chest, making a small noise of surprise. When you look up to scold him, Sukuna is an inch away from your face, his lips almost brushing yours, save for half a centimeter of space between them. He smells like sawdust and menthol, you can taste it in the close proximity as he greedily takes your breath away. 

“Off. Now.” He growls, but his fingers are already undoing the button clasped in the front of your pants. “I’m about to fuckin’ eat you, sweet thing.” 

~

You end up skipping lunch, but you're well satisfied a few hours later. A certain hunger: satiated. Sukuna is resting peacefully beside you. You can hear his even breathing against the sound of the cicadas outside, screaming in through the windows. Seeing him so content, sets your heart at ease and you release a sigh of relief. 

Now, to end the night, it was time to slip out of bed without him noticing to finish folding his laundry. 

Or so you thought. 

As you carefully peel back the blankets and try to sneak off the side of the mattress, a warm pair of fingers loop themselves around your panty line, effectively preventing you from going anywhere. Guiltily, you peek over your shoulder to see Sukuna glaring at you with half of his face still smushed into his pillow, genuinely disgruntled with the fact that you were trying to leave his bed. You can't help but chuckle.

"I'm just gonna go grab your laundry." You reassure him, brushing a tousled tuft of his hair out of his eyes. The knot between his brows deepens.

"Let me do that later. C'mere. " He tugs on your panty line, confident that you'll be submissive for him.

The sun outside was casting tall shadows on the walls of his bedroom and the glow was now deep and rich, telling you that it was preparing to set. You didn't want Sukuna's laundry on the balcony all night, which is what you were sure would happen if you didn't go and grab it now.

You hear a thread rip in your panty line interrupting your contemplation and, quickly, you grab his wrist, squeezing it as a signal for him to let go.

He continues to hold fast, his brow cocking in a silent dare.

"'Kuna, come on." You try, "Lemme take care of you-"

"You've been doing nothing but take care of me all day." He scoffs, like the idea of it is absurd to him. Rarely does Sukuna allow you the opportunity to show him as much care and adoration as you have today. Being doted on was not typically something he enjoyed. You knew that, and that's how you also knew that he was exhausted to his bones that day. "Get your ass back here."

There's a tug again, and another thread snaps somewhere. You pout at him, already having the foresight that this pair of panties wasn't going to last you long either. Your partner had the tendency to rip them off of you, and this wouldn't be the first pair to become a shred of what they once were. To be fair, he was also known for giving you his credit card and telling you to go buy "some things for him to see you in", so it would be at no cost to you. But, you happened to like this pair.

Sukuna watches you consider your options silently, unrelenting in his hold on your lace. When you peek up at his gaze, testing one more time, you know you've already lost.

"Don't make me chase after you." He warns, the promise of your inevitable surrender is evident in the predatory glint of his eyes. If Sukuna had a tail at that moment, it would be swaying back and forth, preparing for a pounce. "It's been a while since the last time I had you tied up. I do miss those sweet little bruises we left on your wrists."

You feel the hair on the back of your neck stand at attention upon his recollection. The last time Sukuna had you in ropes, you had to call off of work the next day. Your backside stings with the memory, but half of you can't help but ache for it too. Tied up in Sukuna's bed while he was forced to care for the boneless pile that was his girlfriend, drunk off of his lovemaking? That wasn't the worst place to be.

But, on the other hand, you could tell how exhausted he was with the new construction project at his job. You have a flashback of showering with him at the end of the night and scrubbing sawdust out of his hair. Having to gently prod and kiss him awake as he fell asleep standing up in front of you. You were adamant that you weren't going to do anything to tire him further tonight. 

Before you can properly give in, Sukuna must have decided that you were taking much too long to obey him. 

His other hand reaches over and winds around your lower waist, pulling you backwards into the soft cushion of the pillows and easily flipping the two of you so that he’s mounted above you. In your surprised stupor, he collects both of your wrists in one of his hands and pins them above your head. 

"You've forgotten how to follow directions again, kitten." His murmur is like velvet against your ear. His teeth graze over his favorite spot on the nape of your neck, where he’s already tortured it with his teeth and hickies. You didn’t realize how raw the skin was until he bites you there, drawing a whimper from your throat. 

 "Let's remind you."

[vanteguccir]

i can’t stop thinking about when matt has been gone for a while and ur too tight and he gets frustrated because he keeps slipping out 😣

── ୨୧ !　a small blurb where Matt's cock keeps slipping out of you after he was away for too long

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

Matt had been gone for three long weeks, traveling with his brothers, and every day without him had felt like an eternity for Y/N. The moment he walked through the bedroom door, the air between them was charged with unspoken desire. They barely managed to exchange a few words before they were all over each other, lips crashing together with full force.

Matt's hands roamed over Y/N's body, relearning every curve, every dip that he had missed so much. Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as if she could never get enough of him. They stumbled towards the bed, shedding clothes along the way.

By the time they reached it, Y/N was breathless, her body trembling with anticipation. Matt's eyes were dark with lust as he looked down at her, his chest heaving. He took a moment to just drink her in, the sight of her lying there, waiting for him, driving him wild. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, possessive kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth with a hunger that mirrored her own.

Matt's hands were everywhere, caressing, squeezing, and teasing, eliciting soft moans from Y/N's lips. He kissed his way down her neck, over her collarbone, and to her tits, taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking gently before giving the same attention to the other. Y/N arched her back, pressing herself against him, desperate for more.

When Matt finally positioned himself between her legs, Y/N was already wet and ready for him, her body aching with need. He took his time, teasing her folds with the head of his cock, spreading her arousal over himself.

She whimpered, her hips bucking, wanting more. But as he began to push inside her, he found it difficult. She was so tight, her body not having had him for so long that he could barely get the head in.

"God, babe." He groaned, his voice rough with need. "You're so tight... I can't..." He tried again, pushing slowly, savoring the way her body enveloped him, but just as he felt the head slip inside, it popped back out.

The sensation was maddening for both of them. The brief moment of penetration sent jolts of pleasure through Matt, making his breath hitch, and his grip on her thighs tighten. For Y/N, the feeling of being stretched, even momentarily, was electrifying. But each time he slipped out, it left them both on the edge, the pleasure cut short.

"Fucking hell, angel. How could you even become this tight? Never been like this since I fucked y' for the first time."

Matt's jaw clenched in frustration. He adjusted his angle, trying to find a way to ease himself in without losing control. He pressed forward again, feeling the delicious resistance as her tightness gave way, the head of his cock slipping just inside her entrance. The sensation was exquisite, her heat and tightness making his whole body shiver. But as he tried to push further, he slipped out again, the sudden loss of contact leaving him groaning in frustration.

Y/N could see the tension in his eyes, the way his muscles strained as he tried to control himself, a moan scaping her lips with the vision, moving her hips.

But Matt's patience was wearing thin. The weeks apart, the constant longing, and now the barrier between them, it was all too much. With a growl of frustration, he tried again, the head slipping in and out, each time sending a shock of pleasure through them both. The sensation was intoxicating, the constant edging driving them both wild with need.

"Look at you." Matt growled, his voice low and harsh. "So tight, can't even take me properly." He pushed in again, only to slip out, and Y/N whimpered at the loss. "Pathetic, huh, angel? Desperate for it, and yet your body can't handle it. Can't handle my cock."

Y/N's breaths came in quick, shallow gasps as she felt him tease her entrance again and again. The brief moments of penetration were enough to send sparks of pleasure through her, making her body tremble. But each time he slipped out, the pleasure was abruptly cut off, leaving her whimpering for more.

Matt's frustration reached its peak. The need to be inside her overwhelmed him. With a growl, he gripped her hips tightly, knowing for sure her skin would be bruised by morning, and thrust forward with force, burying himself inside her in one swift, deep stroke.

Y/N cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure as he filled her completely, her body stretching to accommodate him. The initial pain of his forceful entry sent a shockwave through her, but it was quickly overtaken by a flood of intense pleasure. Her body trembled uncontrollably, her eyes rolling back in her head as she struggled to breathe. The sensation of being so utterly filled, so completely taken, made her stomach flutter wildly.

"Fuck, angel." Matt groaned, his voice thick with desire. "You're so tight, squeezing me so good... It's like you were made for me."

"Oh, Matt..." She moaned, her voice trembling. "So good... so full..."

Matt's eyes locked onto hers, his own breath ragged.

"You okay?" He asked, his voice low and strained, a drop of concern despite his overwhelming need.

Y/N nodded, her body still quivering.

"Yes... don't stop... please..."

Matt didn't need any further encouragement. He began to move, pulling out almost completely before slamming back inside her with a force that made her gasp. Each thrust was hard and deep, the sound of their bodies colliding filling the room.

The combination of pain and pleasure was intoxicating for Y/N. Every time he slammed into her, it sent a jolt of sensation through her entire body, making her toes curl and her fingers dig into his back. Her eyes rolled back in her head again, her vision going white with the intensity of it all. The fluttering in her stomach grew more intense, spreading warmth through her entire core.

Matt's pace was relentless, each thrust harder and more powerful than the last. The pleasure built within Y/N, a tidal wave of sensation that grew stronger with every moment. She could feel her orgasm building, the pressure mounting with every thrust.

"Matt... I'm so close... Fuck." She gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Yeah, angel?" He groaned, his own voice filled with strain. "Hold on... just a little longer..."

Y/N held on as best she could, her body writhing beneath him, every nerve ending on fire. When her orgasm finally crashed over her, it was like nothing she had ever experienced. Her entire body convulsed, her muscles tightening around him, her cry of ecstasy filling the room.

Matt let out a guttural growl as he felt her clench around him, squeezing him completely, his own release crashing over him with a force that left him shaking. He buried himself deep inside her, spilling into her with a final, powerful thrust.

For a moment, they were both still, their bodies pressed together, the only sound their heavy breathing. Then Matt collapsed beside her, pulling her close, their sweaty bodies still tangled together.

"Missed you. So much." He murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

[dmitriene]

simon is ticklish, all the skin beneath the heavy layers of his gear is sensitive to the careful, caressing touches, making his rippling muscles seize and his spine almost arch under your warm palm, scattered scars rubbing against the pads of your fingers as goosebumps erupt on his flesh.

he can't control it, turning the softest under your careful touch even through tickling sensations that makes him grunt, yet still letting you trace patches up from the back of his neck and down his coccyx, his body fidgeting just slightly, pulling a smile to your lips.

sometimes that makes simon almost shy, when you're growing a bit more teasing, hands gliding up his happy trail to the slightly soft tummy, his body shuddering and expanse of his shoulders flush just a tad bit, enough for you to see the pretty red hue that travels to the tips of his ears.

he won't tell that it makes him bothered, bubbling warmth settling heavy in his stomach as your hands encircle him everytime, his flesh remembers every place you touched him at, the one's that leaded to simon being painfully hard, huffing in mild frustration and rolling his shoulders when you're not near.

but you'll have to make it up for him eventually, because it's your attention and touches that made him like this, so let him burrow his sweaty face in your shoulder as you caress his neck and areas behind his ears, his hips rutting against your clothed mound to elevate the throbbing pressure under his sweatpants.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.

[harryspet]

homestead [4] r.cameron

[warnings] dark!rafe cameron x pregnant!reader, farmer!rafe, pogue!reader, jj maybank x reader, kidnapping, DUBCON, little editing,READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: Pls reblog and let me know what you think!

word count: 3.6k

In which you can't escape from your inner turmoil, even in your dreams.

homestead masterlist

Tending to the entire house was hard work. You thought you’d be bored sooner than you actually ended up. It seemed there was always more to do with all the cooking you were doing and the laundry that Rafe went through. Sometimes, you imagined adding the demands of feeding a newborn every few hours or chasing a toddler around to your already packed routine. The thought was daunting, but you had signed up for it, knowing it would be difficult yet now you were relieved you wouldn’t be financially struggling through it.

Your growing belly had started to interfere with your daily chores. It was harder to breathe when you exerted yourself, and frequent trips to the bathroom were now the norm. Rafe never complained when the house wasn't perfect, but you knew it was because he was trying to regain your trust after losing control in the nursery. He wanted you to come to him willingly, but you weren’t mentally ready for that. When Rafe did touch you, he restrained his darker impulses, and while you never enthusiastically said “yes,” you found yourself denying him less and less.

When Rafe started leaving his bedroom unlocked, you knew it was safe to start cleaning it. You mostly used this time to snoop around. You weren’t sure what contact he kept with the outside world. He made sure you weren’t privy to the details of his business, and he never called his family when you were around. 

His room was like yours in many ways, yet distinctly different. You felt a more masculine presence than the rest of the farmhouse. The walls were a deep charcoal gray, and the bed had a thick, woolen blanket that looked inviting enough, but the large wooden bed frame was imposing. Heavy, dark curtains framed the windows on either side of the bed, and there was a seating area on one side of the room with a leather armchair next to a couple of shelves containing a few trinkets and books. Rafe’s closet contained your most considerable curiosity, a substantial black safe. 

The way Rafe opened the house to you was purposeful, he wanted you to feel welcome here, but he couldn’t deny he had secrets. You knew at least a few of those secrets were inside that safe. 

Every time you went inside the closet to put away Rafe’s laundry or organize his clothes, you thought about the years that had passed and everything you didn’t know about him. You were in one of those moments, standing in Rafe’s closet, when you heard the shower start in the connecting room. Rafe had appeared from an afternoon in the fields. You weren’t sure if he hadn’t realized you were there, but he’d already started undressing, his chiseled frame glistening with sweat and dirt. 

“Hey,” You whispered, not wanting to startle him, but he was already grinning at the sight of you.

“Hey, Honey,” He started to undo his belt, and you felt trapped, most of his figure blocking the view of the bathroom doorway, “How you doing?”

You shrugged like you usually did, “Fine, I was just …hanging up your dress shirts.”

“Nice,” He slid off his pants, and you weren’t sure why you didn’t avert your eyes; maybe because you felt yourself starved from any other human connection expect Rafe’s, “I’ll be gone for longer than usual tomorrow.”

“Cameron Development business?”

He didn’t confirm nor deny, “You mind picking out my clothes? You have a better eye for colors and stuff, you know?”

“Sure,” You took that as your opportunity to stop staring at the figure that seemed to be growing even more pristine as the manual labor toned his muscles. You resented it slightly, feeling less and less like yourself as your child grew inside of you. 

The closet was a strange mix of outdoor clothing and high-end suits, a signal of the true duality of Rafe’s life. Thanks to you, it was more organized now, and you spent time scanning the rows of clothes. You chose a tailored navy suit, thinking of his muscular build and the deep blue of his eyes. You paired it with a crisp, white dress shirt and a tie with a subtle, sophisticated pattern of navy and silver. Completing the look, you picked out his polished, black leather dress shoes and matching belt. 

You hadn’t realized just how much time you spent mulling it over. As soon as you laid it out on top of the closet’s chaise lounge chair, Rafe stood beside you with a towel wrapped around his waist. 

“I’m impressed,” He said, leaning over to peck your cheek. 

“Thanks.”

“Stay with me in my room tonight,” Rafe said, his fingers trailing down from your shoulder to your arm. He moved in closer, leaning down to kiss below your ear, “Missed you all day.”

“Rafe,” You sighed as he placed a kiss lower on your neck. In saying his name, you said a million different things. It was a warning that you might resist, that you loved his touch but hated how much you did. 

“I gave you your own space because of your …condition. But after the baby comes, this is going to become our room. I want you to get comfortable here.”

Again, it felt like he was asking the world of you. You imagined laying next to him night after night and him rolling over, taking what he wanted from you anytime he liked. When you thought about it for a moment longer, it wasn’t much different than how things were now. 

“I…I wanted to ask you something,” You placed a hand on his chest and he placed his larger one over yours.

“Yeah?”

“Now that I’m in my third trimester, I’ve been thinking more about, you know, giving birth,” You found it hard to meet his eyes, but you did your best, especially as they started to narrow at you, “With me being here, I guess I don’t know what my plan is anymore.”

“Don’t worry, Honey,” Rafe said, “You think I don’t have a plan?”

“I didn’t know how far we were from the hospital-”

You felt his heart quicken underneath your touch, “A hospital is like, not even Plan C, it’s Plan E. You’ll do it here. People do home births all the time.”

Your face fell quickly, and you pulled your hand from him, “You’re not serious.”

“I’ve been doing my research. As long as we have the proper people involved and the right equipment, it can work!”

“It’s my first pregnancy, Rafe! I want a real hospital with lots of nurses and a real doctor. I want an epidural, and I want my baby to have immediate medical care if he needs it. You’re crazy!”

“It’s not happening.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You cursed, your temper flaring. He grabbed your wrist, keeping you from stepping away, “Get away from me!”

“Calm down,” Rafe grabbed both of your arms, pinning you in front of him, “This is why I didn’t fucking bring it up.”

“Let go of me,” You gritted your teeth, “Please.”

“You have to trust me. I can handle this.”

“I don’t want you … I don’t want just you to handle everything,” you replied, trying to find your calm, knowing you might set him off pretty soon. “Please, just—we have to be able to discuss this more. If you need reassurance that I won’t run or tell anyone what happened, then I will do whatever. I care about the baby more than myself.”

“I wouldn’t put you or the baby in harm's way.”

“I know,” you lied.

“Then don’t imply that I would.”

 “Can you just be open-minded about this?”

His eyes held a lot of emotions, but he nodded. As if each of you were frightened of escalating each other further, you pulled away from each other. 

“I want to sleep in my bed; I toss and turn so much, and my pillow-”

“Go ahead, I don’t give a shit,” Rafe crossed his arms, giving in so quickly that your eyes widened in shock. You didn’t waste the opportunity, scurrying off as quickly as your legs would take you. 

You didn’t see Rafe for the rest of that night and were grateful he wasn’t around the next day, either. 

“I like the name Kai,” you said, looking up, your head resting on top of someone’s warm lap, feeling the sun for the first time in a long time. “It means sea in Hawaiian. If they grow up here, they have to like the ocean.”

“I was thinking something edgier,” you heard JJ say, his gaze also moving toward the beautiful sky above. Lush, rolling fields surrounding you, “Maybe like Talon or Blaze? Something cool so, you know, the other kids don’t pick on ‘em.”

“No way,” She shook your head, giggling, “That is exactly the type of kid someone would pick on.”

“Fine …Kai. I don’t dislike it,” JJ seemed to ponder the name longer,.

You sat up from his lap, finally gazing at your handsome boyfriend. “I like it. We don’t have to pick one now, but … I’m just saying.” 

The two of you were sitting on top of a plaid blanket you didn’t recognize, and you didn’t recognize what part of The Cut you were in, either. JJ must’ve surprised you for a date. A cheap picnic was always up his aisle, and you never cared for fancy dates. 

“I still can’t believe there’s going to be a little Maybank,” you said, reaching out to touch his blonde, windswept hair. “I mean, I already love him. It makes me think my Dad must’ve never felt this way about me.”

He touched your bump, and you felt like you were filled with happiness. Everything was right. Things would be challenging, but at least you’d have each other. 

“My parents, too,” the words were solemn, but you felt the opposite, “It’s their loss.”

Neither of you had the families you deserved, but you could provide that happiness to Kai . . . or whatever name ended up suiting your angel. 

“Picking a name is hard. What if we look at him, and he just doesn’t match the one we chose?” You wondered. 

“Then we change it. He could have no name for all I care. As long as he’s healthy.”

You brought your lips to his and melted into him. Strong arms wrapped around your back as he deepened the kiss further. You were at home. 

When you opened your eyes again, breathless from the kiss, you knew you weren’t home at all. Tears filled JJ’s ocean eyes and the sky turned a darker blue. 

“Have you asked Rafe what he thinks about the baby’s name?”

“Wha-” Your lips parted, the air growing from warm to humid. A storm was brewing above that field of flowers. Now that you glanced around, those flowers were just weeds. 

“You should ask him.”

“Why would I ask Rafe, JJ?”

“Why not? He won. He gets you. He gets the baby.”

“He didn’t win. I just …” It came to you then. JJ never got to feel your pregnant belly. He never knew you were having a boy. How could you feel connected to him from behind the glass in the visiting room? “I-I’m going to figure this out.”

“You’re giving in.”

“I’m not!” You pushed at his chest, but he didn’t budge. 

“You should’ve never let him in.”

“I’m sorry,” You were crying now, “I-I was so lonely, and… you left me!”

He turned his head, and you felt the rain starting to fall, “You’ll forget about me soon enough. He’ll never know me.”

“Please, you have to find us.” The words left your lips just as lightning struck. 

You screamed yourself awake. 

You pushed around the baby potatoes on your plate, sitting across from Rafe at the dinner table. This entire week, you’d been struggling with eating. You felt the baby resting so high that you felt full quicker than expected. It didn’t help that you were facing the reality of giving birth inside this house and possibly never seeing the outside world again. 

You wanted nothing more than to meet your baby, but you felt yourself growing more complacent as your time here and the pregnancy went along. Realistically, how far could you get now that you were this pregnant? And how could you leave with a newborn?

“Is the baby moving a lot?” Rafe brought a piece of steak to his mouth, watching you intently as you played with your food. 

“Yeah … a little too much.”

“Hey, an active baby is a healthy one.”

You wanted to roll your eyes, “You read that in one of your parenting books?”

He winked at you, “Yes, I did.”

“I’m glad you know everything now.”

“You’d know more if you spent some of your free time reading. You haven’t touched a single one.”

“I’m exhausted lately, but thanks.”

Rafe nodded, “Well, makes sense; your body is changing so much. I should stay home more so I can take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself,” You said quickly. 

His fork and knife clanged against his plate as he placed them down. He leaned forward, eyes gazing sharply at you, “What’s gotten into you lately?”

“Rafe, don’t,” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes now. 

“I’m serious …did I do something? Things have been going good.”

You went silent, “Can I be excused?”

“You cannot,” his fist slammed down on the table, making you jump. “I had our whole night planned out, starting with dinner. So you’ll finish dinner with me, we will go on a walk, and then stay in my bed tonight.”

“I don’t feel-”

“I don’t care. I don’t ask too much of you,” Rafe interrupted, “If you can act a little bit more pleasant, I’ll still give you the surprise I was planning.”

“A surprise?”

“You’re going to regret acting like a brat when you see it.” 

Your mouth parted in shock, but his deadly look had you crossing your arms and sitting back silently in your chair. 

Rafe’s hands were intertwined with yours as you walked down an unfamiliar winding path. Cicadas had begun chirping, and the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the property. This was only the third time you’d physically left the house, Rafe allowing you earlier in your pregnancy to follow him around to meet all of the animals. 

Now, due to your swollen feet, you didn’t fit into the work overalls Rafe purchased for you or the boots. You walked in silence for the most part, imagining that Rafe was stewing with anger after your behavior at dinner. You cared little that you’d upset him; your mind was focused on repressing the nightmares you’d be having about JJ. 

After a few minutes, you arrived at a small, fenced-in area near one of the barns. Your curiosity was piqued when you saw a little pen set up in the middle of the grassy area. Inside was a bundle of fur that wiggled and barked excitedly as you approached. 

“C’mere, Honey,” He pulled you closer to the pin. The small dog was a golden brown color with long, shaggy ears, and you noticed a red gift bow tied around its neck. 

“A puppy?” You asked, leaning forward. The puppy stood up on its hind legs, and bounded over the pen's edge, tail wagging furiously. 

“She’s cute, right?” Rafe scooped the puppy quickly into its arms. 

“You bought a puppy,” you couldn’t help yourself, starting to pet its soft fur as Rafe held her close. “This is the surprise?”

“Part of it,” Rafe smiled, “You could use more company.” 

You couldn’t help but notice that your lips started to pull into a smile as the puppy tilted its head closer to you, licking at your cheek, “Oh … look at her,” You said, your heart swelling. Rafe had successfully subverted your expectations. Who were you to deny the cutest animal you’d ever seen? You should welcome any happiness your new world wanted to bring you, no matter how much regret JJ made you feel in your dreams, “You didn’t have to…”

“I want you to have her. She’s a cocker spaniel. Guy who sold her to me said they’re good with kids.” 

“I love her,” You spoke honestly, scratching behind her ears. 

“Look at her collar,” He gave you a suspicious look.

“Why?”

“Just look,” You hesitated but couldn’t imagine him playing a trick on you right now. 

After spinning the tiny collar around her neck, you found the second part of your surprise. Hanging on its collar was a ring with a gold band an a huge, oval-shaped diamond. You inspected it closer, not meeting Rafe’s eyes. Your heart was beating way too fast to look at him. You knew little about engagement rings, but you knew what you were looking at would be considered top-tier. 

“Here,” he said, placing the puppy back down in the pin and maneuvering its collar to free the ring. He held it out to you, and as you stood there, frozen, he took your hand. You didn’t pull away as he eased it onto your left ring finger, “I know we can’t have a traditional ceremony, but I just thought you might think this was special.”

Your lips parted, but Rafe shushed you, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Rafe’s eyes searched yours, waiting for any sign of acceptance. You looked down, the diamond catching the light of the setting sun.

“Let’s bring her inside,” Rafe suggested after a long moment. You nodded, and he leaned over to kiss your forehead before lifting the puppy again. 

Rafe led you back to the house, and his words echoed in your head. What had he done to deserve your attitude? Things were going well. In exchange for caring for the house, you relax in a comfortable environment where your baby can grow peacefully. He’d bought you a gorgeous ring and a puppy to discourage your loneliness. Maybe you were just wholly ungrateful. 

You helped Rafe set up an area for her in the living room.

“She’s gonna need a name.”

“What do you think?” You asked him quietly. 

You resisted the idea of naming your baby without JJ, but maybe you could share this intimate, normal thing with Rafe. 

He propped his fist underneath his chin, thinking, and stared down at the dog, “Are you opposed to a human name?”

“I’m not opposed to anything.”

He seemed a bit surprised by your reaction, but he continued his thinking pose. 

“She’s gonna be really sweet, I can already tell. To me, she looks like a Lucy or like a Molly.”

“Molly is cute. Classic sounding,” You nodded, leaning down to pet her, “You’re so adorable. You need wittle pink hairbows, don’t you, Molly?” 

You heard him chuckle at your high-pitched tone, “It’s settled then. Welcome to the family, Molly.”

As the evening progressed and after you got plenty of puppy cuddles, Rafe escorted you upstairs. The atmosphere was different than the last time you were together there. It was softer and more intimate. He helped you out of your clothes, gentle and considerate of your bump. You didn’t let yourself overthink any longer for the night. 

Your body was so much different from when he first brought you here, yet Rafe’s eyes were hungrier than ever. You couldn’t feel vulnerable for too long because soon he was naked too and pressed against you. The touching, soothing words in your ear and the gentle hands on your belly were almost too much. 

When the time came, Rafe guided you on top of him. He kept you steady, supporting your body with his strong hands as you straddled his lap. That night, you controlled the pace, and the position allowed you to ease the discomfort your belly caused. He watched you like a fine painting hanging in a museum, and his hands never left your hips. 

“Take your time,” He grunted huskily, “You’re doing so good, Honey.”

You loved the praise. You basked in his words and his gaze. You wanted to feel like you were doing the right thing, that you would be a good Mom, and Rafe was always there to confirm that. Your head rolled back, lips parting, as your movements became more frantic and rapid. 

You lost your rhythm, the intensity bringing tears to your eyes.

“Good girl, Honey,” As you grew tired, Rafe moved your hips for you. Hands pressing into his thick chest, you whined, feeling him in the deepest parts of you, “Give Daddy all of it.” 

“Fuck, Rafe!” You cursed, shaking, and he groaned in response, “I’m coming.”

He moved your hips faster, the grinding motion sending you over the cliff towards your orgasm. You felt yourself tightening around him, and like a chain reaction, Rafe’s eyes closed tightly as his orgasm came, “Jesus, baby,” Hands still tight on your hips, he finished deep inside of you, but you’d reached the point of overstimulation now. 

You climbed off of him, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. He caught you in his arms, pressing his body into yours, “Thank you,” You heard him say in your ear, his voice raw with emotion, “Fuck, I love you so much.”

You nestled into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours and the soft sheets beneath you. When you drifted off to sleep, you saw no raging storms, felt no overwhelming guilt, and JJ never appeared. For the first time in a long while, you slept peacefully, cocooned in the safety of Rafe’s love.

A/N: Pls reblog and let me know what you think!

[v3lary0ns]

When the Light Shines Down

Modern Jacaerys Targaryen x fem!reader

(small snippet? football = soccer fo us american out there)

summary — With a recently broken heart, Jace has convinced himself that loving again is a death sentence. Then his mother hires a new babysitter for his little brothers and, bit by but, the light begins to shine for them.

Jacaerys felt like the world sat on his shoulders—both literally and figuratively—as he jammed his key into the lock of his home and made his way inside. His football bag was heavy as he dumped it in the parlor and kicked off his shoes. His mind was a mess as he shuffled into the house with aching muscles and a possibly bruised rib. He tried to wipe the caked-on grime from his hair as he replayed all the ways today went wrong.

He had tried to keep things from blowing up in his face today by keeping his head down and shutting up. He hardly spoke to anyone—completely abnormal, he was a chatterbox on the best of days—and worked to keep his distance from Sara and her band of hooligans. He had just wanted one day where his breakup hadn’t been brought up. One fucking day, but she had searched him out while he was walking to practice and gotten to him like she always did.

He had a weakness for women who had shitty circumstances. She was his best friend's sister, a child of an affair, and he had found himself in a I can fix her mindset before the month was over. He spent almost two years gripping onto a relationship that was built on foundations of sand. She was jealous, controlling, and so good at crying when she wanted people to feel bad for her. He hated that it took him so long to realize their relationship was unhealthy. He hated that he had fallen in love with her before he realized.

Now he was stuck with the aftermath. An ex who was now desperate to get back together with him, bombarding him when he really didn’t need to be thinking about her words. He was upset with himself for thinking so intently about Sara and her desperation to get back together that he had screwed up in practice. His mind had been so consumed with the way she had gripped onto his shirt and kissed him like the world was ending, and the way he had let her, that he had missed a pass and tripped into the stands. Effectively fucking his ribs up. What sort of captain does that?

Gods, he had groaned, why does this have to be so hard?

Cregan had answered in his brusque bass voice with, Because you fell in love and now she misses someone loving her.

Now he was facing the consequences of thinking too hard during practice with the dull pain in his lung everytime he breathed. He turned as a door in the house opened somewhere, the giggling of his little brother catching his ears as he ran around. “Hey!” came a woman’s laugh, and his brow furrowed, it didn’t sound like his mom. “Come back here silly! You forgot your shirt!”

He made his way into the living room to see Joffrey jumping on the couch in his sleep pants, a wicked grin on his chubby cheeks. “You can’t catch me!” He laughs, bouncing from cushion to cushion. His curls were wet and messy and they dropped water on the cushions—he assumed the other two were asleep based on the fact they weren’t chasing Joff around—as he bounced with each giggle. “You can’t catch me miss!”

“You wanna bet, pipsqueak?” The voice was gentle, yet full of happiness and laughter, mirth covered by the boy's giggles. He couldn’t get a glimpse of you before you jump across the living room and almost tackle the little boy into the couch. Joff nearly screams as he laughs, and Jace watches as you begin to mercilessly tickle his brother. “What were you saying? I can't hear you!”

It was a struggle getting the boy into his fire themed sleep shirt but somehow, he watches as you manage to wrangle the most unruly of his brothers. Giggles and laughter chasing you the entire way as you finally lift him off the couch— seemingly much stronger than you look—and spin him in a circle. Eventually setting the boy down from your whirlwind.

Once Joff regains his balance he finally catches sight of his eldest brother. “Jay!” he yells, moving to dart into the older boy's arms. “I missed you!”

Jace hisses in pain for a moment as Joffrey rams his head straight into the rib he had busted. He slaps a smile onto his face instead and bends down to his brother's height. “Hey Joff, having fun?” There was just a small strain of pain in his voice; his brother was too excited to pick up on it.

“Mhm! We played dragons and had a yummy loaded potato soup for dinner, she had us play a cleaning game and gave us yummy food when we did good, and then she let me help her read Aegon and Viserys to sleep!” He grins, pointing over to you with a happy smile on his face. “She’s the coolest babysitter ever!”

With a grin he messed with Joffrey’s hair before looking up at you. He had expected someone… less? Someone who didn’t have pretty eyes and a gentle smile, hair perfectly framing your pretty face while it was disheveled and messy from hours of playing. Somehow, you wore an average shirt and busted up pants so well that he forgot they probably cost less than his shoes. There was no arrogant set to your face that most people around him seemed to have. Just eyes that gave way to a thousand stars and lips pressed with rose petals.

“Hi… you must be Jace.” You speak softly, and even your voice is gentle as a lover's caress. His throat seemed to close and his mouth dried as he looked up at you. Fucking hell, he thinks. His mind flips at the way your words were lilted and breathy, the way you said his name.

Your name came to his mind easily— he had seen you in the halls on campus, but never so close. He regretted never approaching you when he had the chance, now he was seeing you for the first time. While his heart laid amongst the barren wasteland locked up in his chest. The battlefield of his previous attempt at love left scarred across the insides of his ribs, like a beast clawing its way out. Fuck my life, he groans in his mind. “Yeah,” he chokes in a whisper. “That’s me.”

Your answering smile was radiant, blinding him and his gloomy thoughts for a moment. He was like a meteorite caught in your orbit all too quickly. The lonely expanse of space is suddenly lost on him as you sweep him up with your eyes and warm him with your smile. “Captain of the football team.” You say, the fact rolling off your tongue easily. Your eyes trail down to his side, the exact spot he had hurt himself and Joffrey rammed his head into. It was licking flames of pain up his side. “Poli-sci major?”

His lips lift into a small smile. “Are you stalking me?”

You scoff and roll your eyes, crossing your arms and shaking your head with a smile. “You wish, Targaryen. You’re just hard to miss.”

I WILL CRY IF THIS SUCKS PLEASE DONT BE MEAN !!

[neuvistar]

HI MARYSE thinkin' about tattoo!artist blade who thinks of ur whole body as a brand new delicate canvas for him, pretty tattoos going from ur breasts to your womb, and of course it's never without his " watermark " ( it's his name in mandarin ) on ur thigh<3 thinking about the way he's so proud of his works that he can't keep his hands to himself when he's (finger)fucking you

❝ HIS PRIZED POSSESSION. ❞ signed. blade . wc. 809 .

— featuring ┊tattoo artist!blade x fem!reader

— warnings / content warnings ┊all consensual! not proofread. TATTOO ARTIST BLADIE TATTOO ARTIST BLADIE!!!!, established relationships, v4ginal fingering, cunilingus, use of nicknames, feminine terms used, jus a TAAAAD bit of pussydrunk!bladie ♡ | 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒? @yngxing

— a/n ┊ANON U ARE SOOOOAURRE SMART. i loved this ask a little TEWWWW much that i decided 2 make a small fic out of it >:) THANK U 4 SENDING ME THIS… YUMMERS. (also… it’s been so long so i’m sorry 4 the VERY late response this is insane)

it’s no doubt that you were blade’s favourite customer, of course! you were his girlfriend! but yet, it shows in his works and the way he treats you. he can’t help it, really.. who wouldn’t be fond of someone as pretty as you? your body was delicate—it was worth worshipping in his eyes, it’s safe to say that it’s hard for him not to lose control. your perfect body was a sight to behold, blessing his eyes with newfound lust and pride. as he leaned in, his hands released your thighs as he dropped to his knees before you, his dark gaze burning with desire as he yanked your sundress up, baring you completely. blade admired his past work, absorbing the beauty of the tattoo on your breast, his initials over your womb, and his name over your thigh. “hmph. take those panties off and lift your skirt up more. i can't be doing this with your clothes on.” blade instructed, his brows furrowed as he pulled you towards his face. “don’t be shy now. it’ll be better to mark you as mine this way.” he bowed his head forward, his tongue flicking against your clit, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body.

"bladie!” you cried out in pleasure, hands fisting in his long dark hair. your boyfriend lapped at your drenched cunt, sparing no mercy as he drove you to the edge.. your back arching off the chair. the scent of his dominance and need fills the air, the heat between you both was thick and palpable. blade’s hand drifts to the side of your thigh, his thumb brushing over your skin through your dress. he growled against your pussy, the sound low and demanding. your face scrunched at the sounds of slurping and sucking from below; your hips arching to meet his tongue. “good.. so good.” blade suckled on your swollen folds like a starved man, feeling it pulse beneath his lips. he could sense the heat radiating from your core, making his own desire grow even stronger. his wet muscle flicked and circled, your moans growing louder and more desperate with each stroke.. it would be unfortunate if another customer walked in on this.

“pretty." he whispered, a wicked expression spreading across his face. and with that, he dove back in, his tongue plunging deep within you. his thumb toyed with your bud, the sensitive nub pulsing in response to his touch. letting out a rough guttural moan, his hands released your thigh to caress the tattoo on your womb, admiring his work once more as the ache in his groin grew more intense with each passing second. “mine.. mine.” sweat glistened on your bodies as you moved together, the room filled with the sounds of your sounds of pleasure. blade was determined to make you feel every ounce of ecstasy and pride he had in his body. he wanted this, he wanted to claim you.. show just how—proud he is of his work.

“.. can you take my fingers?” he asked you suddenly, his voice muffled against your cunt. “these fingers that have worked tirelessly to show everyone you belong to me.” his words are a mix of semi-praise and tease, his fingers spreading your lips open, watching as the slickness coats his digits. he’s enjoying this, the control he has over your body, the way you respond to his touch. “these tattoos.. are staying here forever.” his finger slid inside, stretching you completely wide. he loved this part, making you helplessly needy for his touch. blade knew he could take your body to the edge and back, control you completely.. a slow, sensual invasion meant to calm your nerves and ground you in the here and now. his eyes locked on your face, gauging your reactions and facial expressions. fuck, he knew you hated this combination. you hated that stupid combination of his fingers and his tongue, knowing it’ll make you cum quicker than usual.

blade couldn't get enough of you. no matter how many times he’d touch you, draw tattoos on you, kissed you, it was never enough for him. he wanted more, and he demanded for more. he could cover your entire body up with tattoos for all he cares! his talented tongue delved deeper, flicking and teasing your heat mercilessly. blade absolutely delighted in making you squirm, taking pleasure in your moans and whimpers… you were overwhelmed with everything, especially when blade’s fingers slipped in and out so easily like this. it was almost impressive. he hummed appreciatively at your wetness, a testament to how much you craved his touch.

“so wet.” blade muttered against your pussy, his voice thick with lust. "every touch, every kiss, every orgasm, it all belongs to me. no one else gets to enjoy your sweet body like this.”

…

“especially with my name signed on your womb.”

[saetoshis]

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ ON DUTY | kaiju no. 8 headcanons

⋆୨୧˚ WITH: ichikawa reno ; hoshina soshiro ; gen narumi

⋆୨୧˚ SUMMARY: where and how they like to fuck you on-base!

⋆୨୧˚ MATURE CONTENT WARNINGS:

fem reader, exhibitionism, suit play [?], oral f. receiving, creampie, pet names [baby, pretty girl], MDNI.

⋆୨୧˚ ICHIKAWA RENO

one thing about reno is his ability to be sly when he needs to. thinking outside the box, considering enemy moves one step ahead - he can truly be sneaky. that might be why he so easily came up with a plan to sneak out after lights-out just to meet up with you. he found an empty office, making sure patrols or cameras were nowhere to be found.

"shh, little quieter, okay?" reno mutters under his breath as he presses his palm over your mouth gently, his other hand having two fingers buried inside your needy pussy. you're so close together, having only a cramped space to do this; your legs wrap around his waist as you sit on the desk, chest pressed up against his. "just moan into my hand, yeah, like that."

"h-hard to be quiet when you're- mm- going so hard," you whimper out airily into his hand, your head reeling back when he fucks his fingers into you a certain way. your thighs shudder around him, and you can feel his cock growing harder each second he's pressed up against you. your arms wrap around his neck, fingers flitting through his hair erratically.

"gonna put it in now, 'kay?" reno pants out in need as he replaces his fingers with his cock, sliding in languidly and savoring each and every desperate enclosure of your cunt around him. he moans out a small 'fuck' when he starts to rut his hips, letting them merge into a quick rhythm that has you clinging onto him and whimpering against his big shoulder. "f-fuck, baby... feels so good. want you to cum on my dick, yeah."

the two of you are so lost in ecstasy that you don't realize the rhythmic bump of the desk against the wall, desperately attempting to muffle each other's moans and mews as you get closer and closer. with a heavy final rut and a shuddered moan out loud, you both are sent reeling in pleasure as you make a mess of each other. reno tries to catch his breath, coming to with a small gasp, "fuck, do you think anybody heard? i should find a better place next time..."

⋆୨୧˚ HOSHINA SOSHIRO

hoshina isn't one for breaking the rules necessarily, or even one to slack off while on the clock - but tonight was different. it was unbelievably late, the whole third division command center was essentially empty, and all kaiju within a ten mile radius were silent on the radar. maybe he could get away with it...

he doesn't even bother slipping out of his anti-kaiju suit before he's lifting you onto the control panel counter, lips pressing messy, open-mouthed kisses along the crook of your neck. all he can think about is how dirty it feels to fuck you where anybody could walk in at any moment. "wanna try somethin' new i've been thinkin' about."

"huh?" you query between heavy panted breaths, slipping your thighs further apart on either side of his hips to accommodate him. you both watch closely as his fingers slowly remove your suit, wandering your waist, then your hips, then your panties. all hoshina mutters along the shell of your ear is a rasped, "i'll show you what."

you finally start to put two and two together when he unzips his own tight-fitted suit, yet keeps it on his body as he presses the head of his cock against the wet spot on your panties. he languidly slips the fabric to the side, letting out a low grunt as he presses his forehead against yours when he ruts forwards. "fuck- wanna see how much you can take with the suit on. you can handle it, can't ya?"

you nod eagerly, already letting out little whines in time with each heavy rock of his hips. it already feels more intense than usual, and he hasn't even put much force into it. you shudder when he picks up the pace, his muscles tautening each time he ruts harder in succession. it's when his hands grip at your thighs and he fucks a bit rougher that you're whimpering out behind your hand in an attempt to stay quiet. "shh- that's it, take it. think you can lemme work up to 50% tonight?"

⋆୨୧˚ GEN NARUMI

narumi doesn't have a problem playing it a little risky, especially when it comes to work. he'd rather laze around as long as possible before he has to get suited up - but backwardly, he also has no problem taking his time fucking you on a time crunch, either.

"narumi, aren't you supposed to start patrol in like, 5 minutes?" you pant out between strained whimpers, trying so hard not to get sucked into his explorative touches and tantalizing kisses. you hold back a shudder when his hand drags up your shirt, circling your nipple and watching it eagerly harden under his fingers. "can't be doing this right now..."

"don't care," he sneers and flashes you an obstinate, yet enigmatic look in his eyes as he slips your shirt upwards. he has you lay on your back as he dips his head down your chest, leaving flicks of his tongue and panted kisses on your tits. it's when his fingers start rubbing between your thighs that you start to cave, feeling a pressure building in your body. narumi looks back up at you, a mischievous glint in his gaze. "wan' you to cum all over my face before i leave. not gonna suit up 'til you do, pretty girl."

"that's so irresponsible-" you start, cut off by a shivered gasp when he slips your shorts and panties off and buries his face between your legs. his tongue swipes along your clit as his fingers dig into the plushness of your hips, little groans leaving his mouth as he tastes and tastes until he's satisfied. knowing him, it'll take a while before he is. "p-please, narumi, they're gonna yell at you."

"don't care. think they're gonna fire me? their strongest captain? nahh," narumi sneers before returning his tongue back to your clit, sucking and rolling his tongue against it over and over again. he knows you're close, he knows how your body works. it's when he uses his fingers to curl against that spot in your walls that he's moaning out, 'cum for me, cum for me, yeah', and watching you shudder as you release all the pent-up stress from your week. a voice sounds over his receiver, barking orders for him to hurry to command center. he sighs, "i know, i know. i'm on the way now."

he turns off the mic again, his little grin coming back to his face. "see? got it done in five minutes, didn't i? better wait for when i get back, yeah? not done with you just yet."

2024 SAETOSHIS. do not copy/repost.

[rottiens]

are we havin' fun yet?┊ s. getō ft. s. gōjō

✫ word count. 5.1k

✫ summary. you get caught up in the unresolved argument and tension from years ago between two old best friends.

✫ tags. (18+) — explicit content. no curses au, bisexual panic and denial, female reader + afab (the reader wears painted nails and has somewhat long hair), mostly geto-centric narrative, objectification, praising, cucking.

✫ notes. ok this is born thanks to the idea of this ask, a drabble that i lost control of heh. there are many things i love about this piece and i hope you enjoy it kiss kiss. divider creds: cafekitsune.

From food and video games to shirts and colognes, Suguru and Satoru have always shared everything. It's adorable, to a certain extent, how close the two of them are and how others perceive them as brothers from the outside. It's an unbreakable friendship that was born spontaneously when they were both little. They met in elementary school, when Satoru decided to share his crayons so Suguru could color the house he had drawn, and since then, the affection that began then has only grown along with them.

The only time the two were apart was during their time at university where Satoru was inclined to study history while Suguru, with his tendencies towards human relations and his great empathy, decided to study social psychology. However, after graduating and starting work not far from the city center, they both decided it was time to live together again, at least for a while, with the intention of saving expenses.

Suguru has never minded sharing. His shampoo, his food, his bath gel. So it was only natural to expect his friend to do the same for him, to share everything, right? Just like back then.

That afternoon, Satoru was returning to the apartment after a long day at work. The backpack slung carelessly over his shoulder as his footsteps echoed in the hallway. He unlocked the door with his key, which turned with a familiar, comforting sound. Upon entering, he was greeted by the scent of the incense Suguru always lit to keep the atmosphere calm and cozy.

Suguru was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables with precision and care. Hearing the door, he looked up to greet and greet him, as usual, only the greeting died on the tip of his tongue, turning into a long sigh.

“Oh.” Disappointment disguised in a subdued tone, so Suguru decides to add. “You bring company.”

Again. He wants to say, but he bites his tongue and harshly splits the onion in two. You're here. Again. The friend Satoru has been bringing home every weekend for a month now. Suguru thought it was going to be casual, like all the times before, something that would last a week or two at most, because Satoru isn't the type to have long-term relationships. But seeing you here after a full month surprises him, no, it bothers him, and he can't explain why.

Satoru smiles, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the air.

“'Hi, Suguru,” you greet him, accompanying your words with a nervous twitch that leads you to squeeze Satoru's intertwined fingers. You look adorable, and he avoids rolling his eyes. You're wearing a tight-fitting black knit-and-button blouse that highlights your figure, and a short black skirt that exposes your legs that he can't help but admire before focusing on his friend.

“Will you stay for dinner?” Suguru asks out of politeness and breaks eye contact with you to look at Satoru, who struggles to hold back a smile.

His fingers tighten around the knife just as a muscle in his jaw does.

“Later. We'll be in my room.”

Unable to add anything else, Satoru tugs your hand towards the hallway along with a slight nod that has you following him like a lost puppy. A few seconds later, the slam of the door rattles the walls and minutes later a pop song reaches the kitchen. It's the voice of a familiar artist, high and raspy, and Suguru wants to rip out his eardrums.

He plunges the knife down on the onion hard, hitting the board with a dull thud that gets louder and louder. Even over the noise of the knife, his thoughts, and the woman now singing another song from the same album, Suguru can hear it: those sounds Satoru tries to muffle with his hand, the breaths, the moans.

The hot oil bubbles in the pan rising with the anger cooking in the top of his stomach, the olive oil toasting the onions and garlic, while Suguru pretends he doesn't know what's going on a few feet away from him. He doesn't hate you, not really. You're sweet, you're kind, and he thinks that makes it worse. What really runs across his skin from the inside, like fingernails scratching a chalkboard, is the fact that Satoru doesn't talk about you. Of what he does, what he doesn't do, that he doesn't offer you as an offering from which he can take. Like one of his toys, like his shirts, like the other partners he's had before you.

It is the exclusivity with you that irritates him to such an extent that his thoughts corrupt him and make him completely forget about the garlic that is now dark and smells burnt.

“Fuck this,” he growls to himself, wrinkling his nose at the smell and the plume of smoke rising to the ceiling. Suguru scoops up the burnt ingredients with the spatula and pushes them into the trash can. He puts the pan back on the fire and grabs a new onion to chop. As he cuts, he hears your laughter, that bubbly, mischievous, genuine laughter that comes out of your belly and echoes throughout the apartment, as if Satoru is making you cry from the tickling. Suguru peels and chops the onion harder, throwing it into the pan once more, his eyes red and watery, his nose full of the peculiar stench of onion.

Satoru laughs, says something (perhaps in your ear, even against your thigh) that Suguru can't decipher. A door opens and closes. Then he hears the shower water, and the words of the song come through more clearly thanks to Satoru leaving the door open, as he always does. Suguru adds the ginger and concentrates on the curry, and on nothing else but cooking, showering and getting out of there. And that's what he does.

He waits for you to finish playing newlywed couple in the shower, takes off his clothes, ignores his erection and steps into the shower that still smells of you. To the shampoo you both share, to your perfume, to the minty toothpaste and- it's the first time it happens, as an irony of fate, as if life is mocking him, suguru finds your panties lying on the side of the shower, he is stepping on them and looking at them as if he has discovered something horrifying, they are soft, white and lacy around the edge and have a sticky, almost white he might say, fluid on them.

Suguru picks them up. He watches them a few feet away, he knows he shouldn't do it, he would never take anything his friend doesn't offer him first and he doesn't because his pride is stronger.

He throws them on the floor a little further away from where he picked them up, steps into the shower and cums silently in his clenched fist as he drowns in the smell of you.

Suguru wraps the towel around his waist when he's done, lets his hair cascade loose dripping droplets down his back and looks in the mirror to see his cheeks stained red and finally exits the bathroom.

You are with Satoru in the living room, apparently arguing about something, you catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye entering the room and closing the door.

Suguru takes off his towel and looks at his hand. Okay, he did it. He tries to justify himself but there's no reason other than, he thinks he has the right to taste you, to smell you, to know what has satoru coming back to you, so he brings the used panties to his nose shyly at first, full of embarrassment, but when he spits on his hand and starts fucking his cock harder he realizes as he sniffs you like he's a stalker pervert, he notices there are no inhibitions now, it's just you, your panties, his hard cock and his imagination telling him the different poses he could take you in if satoru would let him.

He cums silently as he hears the front door close and the shame returns to him as if it has always belonged to him. Suguru hurries to clean up his mess with napkins he keeps hidden in the room and moves to stow your panties in one of the drawers where he keeps his underwear, way down low.

Suguru's face is hot and his chest tight. His naked body as an accusation reminds him of the crime he just committed, so he moves to pick up some shorts and slides them up his muscular legs until the heat in his chest is descending.

He lies down for a moment on the mattress that makes no noise when he moves and stares at the ceiling until his vision blurs and he stops thinking and, then, remembers the curry.

——

The second time it happens it's not even his fault.

This seemed like a joke of fate or some divine plan to punish him for being thirsty for water he can't drink.

You are sitting in front of him, on the floor, legs slightly spread while wearing a satoru t-shirt too big for you which helps him discover that you have nothing on underneath except for black panties. Suguru can see for a moment how your pussy lips swallow some of the material and thinks of the excuses he can come up with to justify if asked about the blush or the amount of sweat pearling his temples.

“ UNO!” Shouts satoru victoriously placing the last card in the center of the floor and you feign indignation as you tap him on the shoulder, moving into your space, and flashing him again your panties. “Are you okay, man?” asks Satoru still laughing, he has your wrists clutched against his chest to keep you from hitting him again as you accuse him of cheating.

He was. But Suguru didn't care to discuss that now.

“Suguru, say something to him!” You chuckle slowly as you do when he sucks too hard on your clit and he leaves you breathless. He knows because he saw you, a couple of weeks ago when satoru was eating your pussy on top of the counter when he thought suguru was asleep, you were right where he was preparing the curry just a couple of nights ago.

Suguru closes his eyes for a second erasing that mental image and gets up, before anyone notices what's going on and is grateful for the baggy t shirt he's wearing that hides his semi erection.

“Yeah; it's the curry… I think, I'll be back,” he excuses himself.

The third time it happens Suguru looks around the room for cameras. This had to be a joke.

A pair of black panties were attacked at the bottom of the washing machine, mixed in with his clothes, kept there since the last day you visited them. Suguru knows he must return them and he will…. soon.

He slips them into the back pocket and finishes placing the clothes he will wash that day inside the washing machine. Then he closes it harder than he should.

——

It's incredibly hot, so he's not wearing a shirt. You're close to Satoru, as usual, huddled a few feet away from Suguru as you watch the soccer game. The fan is barely enough for the three of you, but Suguru prefers to stay away from you for his own good.

The game's narrator announces halftime and Suguru takes the opportunity to blink and stretch his legs. He raises his arms above his head with a groan, and his shorts are pulled down a little, revealing the beginnings of the short hairs on his abdomen.

“Man, this is getting boring,” Satoru grunts with a yawn. You two look at him.

“What do you mean? The match is 2-4 right now…”

“You've really given up already?” Suguru frowns, looking at the back of your head but unable to see the expression with which you watch your boyfriend… or whatever you two are now.

“Huh?” he replies in confusion.

“I thought you wanted to fuck my girlfriend,” blurts out satoru, as casually as if he's talking about the weather, his eyes now on the commercials playing on TV.

Suguru thinks that if he were still drinking from the water bottle he'd be coughing right now. Instead, his eyes widen to such an extent that they could pop out of their sockets and roll on the floor, his throat goes dry, his heart leaks out of his chest and a whiplash hits his cock. Satoru laughs noting the expression he finds comical. “Funny you act so surprised when you've always been so easy to read,” he says.

“Babe, come on,” you murmur as you stroke Satoru's chest in circles, your short red nails contrasting with the Red Hot Chili Peppers tank top he's wearing.

Suguru turns on the couch to get a better look at you, his blue eyes locked on yours intimidating. They always have. However, with a deep breath you steel yourself not to break eye contact.

“Why didn't you say anything before?”

Satoru smiles sideways. Hearing him say this last, you turn to position yourself perfectly in the middle of the two of you, avoiding the gaze of either of them, and fixating on the commercial about the energy drink they're promoting now.

“I thought you were going to ask, as usual,” he says with a shrug, still talking as if you weren't present.

“I thought it was different now.”

“Well, are you going to ask?”

Suguru pushes his cheek with his tongue and his fingers gently grip the couch.

“Satoru…” you warn, averting your gaze to the floor. Suguru notices how fast your breathing has become, his friend's long fingers playing with the edge of your denim shorts, sometimes hiding under the fabric as they scratch the fat of your thigh from time to time.

“Say it,” Satoru encourages him gently, looking up at you through his eyelashes and with determined eyes that mimic those of an eagle.

Suguru bites his cheek gently, perhaps to make sure he's not dreaming. He has a slight feeling that this is a trap, that Satoru is leading him to a place he won't be able to get out of, and yet he decides to sink his feet into what is probably quicksand.

He's always wanted this, clearly, and to have it in front of him, being offered on a platter for him to take and satiate his hunger- there's very little a hungry man can take.

“I want to fuck her,” Suguru spits and his voice doesn't tremble. There's a slight frown on his forehead and the summer heat prevents him from breathing normally.

You bite your lip as you watch Suguru, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten as Satoru continues to tease you underneath the material of the shorts. Your eyes widen slightly and your cheeks heat up, anticipation and nervousness mingling in your expression.

“How badly you want it?” asks Satoru, his voice barely a whisper.

Suguru closes his eyes for a moment, his jaw tensing. “I'm dizzy just thinking about it,” he replies, opening his eyes slowly, his gaze fixed and determined on him. He hasn't even dared to look at you. “I want to fuck her so hard and deep, you have no idea.”

“Fuck,” Satoru's fangs are visible for just a second, a wolfish grin warning danger. “Atta boy…” he purrs, sliding his fingers over your jawline to force you to look at him. There's something about Satoru that has always made you feel intimidated. His blue eyes, as deep as the sea, and his cotton-white hair give him such a peculiar appearance, he almost looks like the divine character from some book you must adore. His touch is firm, but not aggressive, and the intensity in his gaze leaves you breathless, as if you're under a spell you can't break. “You still want to fuck my best friend?”

“Satoru…” you beg in a trembling voice.

“Don't be shy, angel. If you can ask for it, it's yours,” he replies with an indulgent smile.

You had discussed this before, once… well, maybe it was twice. You remember it clearly because it's impossible to forget how the idea made you feel. The first time, you were drunk and thought it was all a joke; but when Satoru brought it up again, whispering it close to your ear while you were both sober and cuddled in the dark your room, you thought it was just a fantasy that would fade away and stay just that.

“You know… we used to share everything,” he told you.

The idea of being shared between the two of them is… overwhelming, to say the least. Just thinking about it takes your breath away; both men are huge, tall and muscular, not to mention how handsome they are.

“You know I do. We've talked about it,” you confess in a low voice.

Suguru barely manages to hear you over the hiss of a whistle on the TV, but what he does manage to catch makes his heart beat wildly and his thighs tense.

Satoru examines you up and down, perhaps looking for some trace of doubt about what is about to happen. Finding no sign of uncertainty, his eyes fall on Suguru and, with a wave of his hand, he beckons him closer.

“C'mere, Suguru. Don't be shy.”

Suguru moves like a magnet towards you, shuffling his legs over the couch until his warmth envelops you. Suddenly, you are acutely aware of the heat that has built up in the room, of the sweat on your back and the sticky feeling on your skin. The atmosphere becomes dense and suffocating, each breath feels heavier, Suguru's bare knee touches yours and the friction of your bodies makes your skin burn, intensifying the crushing sensation that overcomes you.

Expectantly, you both look at Satoru as if waiting for the next command anxiously, like animals about to be tamed.

Satoru makes an effort to pretend that he does not enjoy the situation, that the idea of devouring you both in one go does not excite him. However, he takes the first step and reaches for you with his hand, placing it on your cheek to force you to look at him. Lips half-open and eyelashes messy, you feel his lips pull you close and kiss you, filling you with a palpable intensity. Suguru beside you gasps.

Your boyfriend's fingers push at the thick denim fabric of your shorts and your needy core reaches for his open palm, swaying your hips in need of more.

Suguru doesn't know what to do; he seeks Satoru's permission, unsure if it's okay to kiss you, if he can touch you. Fists clenched in his tight shorts, he pauses to watch as Satoru's tongue hungrily thrusts into your mouth, creating a mess of saliva and moans. The intensity of the moment draws you into a new kiss, as his mouth fills with water, caught up in the maelstrom of desire that is unleashed.

In the midst of a new kiss that ends with Satoru gently biting your lower lip, he reaches out to grab his friend's jaw, delicately inviting him towards you. Leaving your mouth inches from his and with your eyes still closed, you barely make out the change in mouths, except for the difference in the way they devour you.

Suguru feels very different; his lips are harder and thicker than your boyfriend's, and his skin, rougher from the recent shave. Unlike Satoru, he sucks your tongue with precision. Each movement, though laden with desire, feels carefully planned, not so messy and the sensation of his mouth molding yours has your pussy soaking wet from satoru's long fingers now playing with your drooling pussy directly.

“You're this wet? Just from kissing him?” Satoru bites your neck and you release suguru's mouth to moan and expose your throat even more. “Such a naughty girl.”

Suguru's kisses mark the other side of your throat making you clench around the pair of digits with which satoru explores your insides, a couple of jerks of his fingers inside you has your back hunched for both of them and just as you begin to ride the wave of your orgasm, so close, the fingers are hastily withdrawn from you to show them to the room as proof of how wet you are. A long transparent string ties his fingers together.

“Look what you did to her, suguru.” Satoru brings the fingers to his friend's mouth who after hesitation circles them with his tongue with his eyes closed and face burning.

The heat is as unbearable as the erection in his shorts and suguru is grateful to feel some pressure on the throbbing bulge while still sucking on his fingers. You spit on your hand and cover his cock in saliva jerking it up and down, satoru drags his fingers out of his friend and sees the desire in his cinnamon eyes, lust overpowering shame.

Satoru spits into his own hand and curls it around suguru's throbbing cock, you masturbate his base, he swirls the sensitive tip, your left hand massaging his balls and the whole haze of new thrills and sensations whip him, and make him dizzy.

“Fuck you,” Suguru gasps with his eyebrows drawn together and mouth a distorted circle looking at his friend.

“Don't you want to cum?” you ask, innocent at the dueling gazes battling in front of you.

“Agh, fuck. No, not yet…” selfishness wanted him to continue, not so soon, he couldn't finish now.

“Oh no?” Satoru presses harder, stroking his slit with his thumb. ”Because you want to cum in her tight pussy, don't you? Fuck man, you don't know how hard she squeezes when she's about to cum, it feels like she wants to keep you there and have you fill her over and over again with your fucking cum.”

“Satoru shut the fuck up!” he yells through his teeth.

“Or do you want to cum in me?” as they both look at each other, his balls twitching, no words to respond other than pent up emotions from years ago.

“Please…” is all he can say, unsure of exactly what he's pleading for.

The waves of pleasure that Satoru's fingers give him descend, allowing the pressure in his lower stomach to cease, and he can breathe normally again.

“Stop,” Satoru says, kissing your temple. You obey instantly, getting Suguru to groan with painful longing, cock twitching visibly a mess of his saliva and precum. “Do you want to ride him?” he asks you directly, catching your gaze as he grabs the back of your neck firmly to give you a soft kiss on the lips.

“I do,” you reply, slightly light-headed from the kiss, the physical contact and the heat. Your breath brushes against his mouth and Satoru looks at you proudly, or so you think; you fail to decipher what's really in those eyes, though many times you can't.

Suguru lies down on the couch just as Satoru orders him to. He finishes removing his shorts awkwardly and hurriedly, becoming completely naked. It's not the first time Satoru has seen him without clothes, but it's the first time he's contemplated him in this way, almost like you are.

Suguru is handsome, that's a fact you can freely acknowledge. Seeing him like this, fully exposed, a sense of awe comes over you. His body is toned, with muscles worked by hours in the gym. His legs are covered with short hair that is growing, and a line of hair descends from his navel to his pelvis, where you find a tangle of short, curly hairs. The sight of his naked body is breathtaking, a mixture of strength and vulnerability that takes your breath away.

A few feet away, satoru jerks his cock with his own hand, long rather than thick, pale pink at the tip with a drop of pre cum in the slit and suguru, head cocked to the side and leaning back on the couch licks his lips in his direction watching him satisfy himself.

You grab his cock with one hand and then, the realization has your body tingling the moment you brush the tip at your needy entrance. All three of you moan in unison, connected together by the same thought and it is lewd, it embarrasses you but at the same time excites you to have the attention of both men pouring into you alone, suguru thrusts his hips upward in search of some kind of release and satoru takes a few short steps forward to admire the scene more closely, then sitting down on the ground a few feet away from you to better admire the scene he has set up for himself.

His cock plunges into you, thrusts and expands your pussy, spills your arousal around the thickness. Suguru is much thicker so you feel so full the moment you're sitting on him completely, his warm hands on your thighs massaging you up and down bringing comfort as he thrusts his hips to grind against your clit.

You hold onto his stomach like an anchor, feeling the sweat make your hair stick to your forehead and tangle around your face. Your hips move harder, riding him with increasing intensity, selfishly seeking climax. suguru finds your clit with the hard pad of his thumb and rubs it back and forth as you do all the work. For a long minute it's just the two of you staring into each other's eyes, the open-mouthed panting chanting turns to grunts and moans that gets lost in the noise of the forgotten match in the background; suguru struggles to concentrate on you, watches your lip being punished by your teeth, your tits covered by the thin fabric of the summer tank top and on the way his finger fiddles your nub of nerves lazily.

You lose yourself in him, in the rhythm at which his hips join yours; you feel his desperation, his hunger. Suguru grunts and carelessly grabs your hips to turn you around and place you now on your back on the couch, your thighs spread wide by his wide hips and his hands make prisoners of your wrists above your head.

You moan, with his forehead against yours and his body bending yours in half you feel like you might break beneath him, he notices, feels you tighten which makes him grin devilishly.

“Too deep?” He asks, as if he doesn't know the answer, pounding you harder and more precisely. “I like it like this, perfect for breeding you…. I like how tight you get.”

“Uh-huh,” you reply biting your lip, sharing the sweat from his frown.

“Tell him,” he orders you without looking at satoru, sharing a secret between your open mouth that can't be heard by your boyfriend.

You had almost forgotten him for a moment, too wrapped up in the fantasy. Turning your attention to satoru you realize that he fucks his cock to the rhythm in which suguru thrusts into you, he licks his lips as he watches you come back to him, to the giddy and disoriented and a smile curving the corners of his mouth appears on his face.

“Hi, angel.” Satoru gasps, “Do you have something to tell me?”

“He's so deep,” you gasp, suguru becoming more beast than human with every second you let him take you, caught up in the idea of fucking his friend's girlfriend, now you were no longer his property, you were his; his for that moment. He pushes back to get a better look at you from another angle and pulls up your tank top and exposes your tits, pinching your nipples without remorse.

“Yeah? And you like it?” you look back at suguru, the bun tying his hair back is starting to unravel, black strands falling down his back and you're not sure which one you want to look at first. “Are you having fun?”

“Yes…”

“I can tell… I love that face you're making, you're going to cum soon….. How about you Suguru, tell me how you feel?”

His eyes wander to your crotch, to your panties pulled aside so he can slip inside you, and he loses his rhythm for a moment as he watches his cock thrust in and out of you. He spits right on your clit for extra lubrication and takes his thumb to start massaging you, squeezing even tighter the tension binding your guts.

“She's so beautiful, and this fucking pussy, god…” his back arches and he rolls his eyes, feeling his own orgasm come hard. “She's squeezing me so hard.”

“Don't cum in her,” satoru warns.

Suguru bites his lip coming back to the present, the violent sound of wet skins meeting and the invisible steam of heat overwhelming him and urging him to take his own orgasm soon.

“Suguru…”

Another warning.

Satoru's voice sounds so sweet yet so commanding that it's almost annoying. It's just like before, when he ordered him things like he was his puppet and he was always so grateful to obey him, just to remain his friend. But you feel so good now, so tight, so wet, he doesn't remember the last time he fucked someone raw that nothing feels more like it now than filling your pussy with his load however, he forces himself to pull his cock inside you and fuck his cock on top of your stomach while you watch him with eyes full of adoration, he lets his cum run on your stomach making puddles on your belly button while someone behind him shouts “goaaaaaal”.

Then Suguru leans over, his fingers tangling in the mess that is your hair as his hair trails down his sweaty back, this with the intention of kissing you but he feels a brute hand on his shoulder pulling him away from victory, meeting that warm bluish gaze that reminds him of nostalgia.

“No kisses… those are another thing you'll have to ask for like a good boy.”

[arlertwhore]

pairing: sub!paige bueckers x fem! reader

synopsis: when you massage your gf paige, you discover her knots aren't what shes having trouble getting out.

warning (s): sexual content, fingering, nipple play, mommy kink!

word count: 929.

author note: gotta request for sub paige, dug deep in them drafts for this beautiful baby here 😫 i love the "tough girl gets dissolved to nothing" trope UGHH so yummy.

A significant part of being an athlete, one of the best on the court, was managing her trained muscles. In your shared bedroom, Paige had various massage tools & items to help her soothe her aches; guns, rollers, and balms, but she couldn't ever kick the comfort of her loving girlfriend’s hands.

"Pleaseeee baby," she begged you in the washroom mirror, behind you as her hands rested on your hips, pressing you back into her. "Need you," she'd said, burying her head in the crook of your neck, and you subsequently melted because how on earth could you have possibly resisted her cute little pout and those pleading eyes when she was so cute like that?

Believing you weren’t strong enough to massage her toned body, hardened from relentless hours of training and practice before she came home, you discovered that your true weakness was resisting her tempting reactions.

As she undressed, revealing her muscular upper body with a back glistening and tense from intense training—one you’d seen many times before, even scratched up and marked—your first reaction was, "There's no way I can do this," as you took in the full extent of her exertion.

"Try," she encouraged, lying down on the bed, and with a deep sigh, you advanced and reminded yourself she’d owe you a favor after this, perhaps some head.

You began. With each pass of your hands over her back, her muscles—initially taut and unyielding—gradually softened under your fingertips. Every stroke elicited a soft gasp or a deep huff, and her breathing grew deeper and more relaxed as she completely surrendered to the sensations you implemented upon her.

The way the big bad athlete yielded so willingly to your touch only intensified the heat growing between your legs. If not so, then it'd be the soft sighs and subtle arching of her back that indicated that she was enjoying every moment of your touch.

Maybe a bit too much. She wasn’t usually like this. She wasn’t usually this submissive, always so strong and in control on the court, in the bedroom, and in her words, but now, she was the flip opposite—melting and whining under your touch, completely submitting.

You furrowed your eyebrows, feeling a pang of guilt. This shouldn’t have been turning you on. Coaxing whimpers and curses from her parted, puffy lips, the way she responded to your lovely touch, and how she clenched her muscles each time you kneaded them all contributed to your growing unease and simultaneous arousal.

Whether intentional or not, you couldn’t help but lean down and softly kiss the curve of her neck from behind, cushioning legs draped over each side of her body.

"Y're so good, baby... fuck, yeah... just like that," she whimpered smally, pressing her body closer, damn-near shivering.

"Shut up," you murmur against the rose-scented skin of her back, licking and nipping at it softly, "I feel that good, Paigey?"

"Yeah," she breathes out, her needy voice trembling with and of surrender. "Kiss me again. Please," she begs softly, pulling you back in by grasping your hair. Her touch is gentle yet insistent, guiding you to the curve of her neck where your lips had left a lingering warmth.

“Mhm,” she hummed in delight, nodding as you encircled her body, your soft hands tenderly enveloping her tits. "So warm and soft... those fingers, I can't," she whispered, shuddering as your oiled palms glided gently and teasingly over her nipples, essentially massaging them.

You lay down flat on her back, nipping at her lips and listening to her whine needily into your mouth as you sink your oiled fingers into her, met with no resistance due to how completely lost in the moment you both are and how wet she is. The oil makes the glide smoother, heightening the sensation, and she claws at your wrists a little with her thankfully trimmed nails, whispering, "Yeah, bae, yeah... love your fingers in me like that, mmh..." Her voice maintains its natural tone but becomes whiny, needy, and desperate, as if something has taken over her.

Her moans sound different. The way she pushes herself back against your fingers, clenching around them with each pop of her hips, is different.

You pull your fingers out of her and press them into her mouth, feeling her eagerly engulf them as she bobs her head in a hungry, slutty motion. You’re unsure who this person is right now, but one thing is clear: it’s undeniably hot.

When she finishes cleaning your fingers, you sink them back inside her and stroke deeply, tiring your wrist.

"You're a good girl," you whisper into her ear, and she bites her lip, moaning blissfully with her eyes rolling back into her head. "Think you're Mommy's good girl?" you ask gruffly, and she gasps, a desperate, shrill cry escaping from her stomach, where she can quite literally feel your fingers jamming into. You’re about to demand words from her for fucking her so well when you feel it trickle down your wrist and realize she’s come silently, on command, just from that gentle praise.

Too much of a "Mommy's good girl," it seems.

You snap back to your typical role, remembering how you’re usually the one in her place. You joke, "What happened to all that control?"

You pull your fingers out of her and pop them into your mouth, her eyes following your every move. "Just savoring the taste of how good for me you are," you explain.

She nods, clearly pleased. "Good. I was hoping you’d remember you’re still my little bitch." MASTERLIST AUTHOR NOTE #2: unfortunately, i've become worse at writing cheeky lil endings :( THANK GOODNESS I DON'T HAVE TO SINCE ITS A DRAFT 😛 guys idk if its inappropriate to be releasing stuff rn since q-diddy has arose so think of this as me lightinin the mood around here lmao i just need these drafts gone!!

[thegnomelord]

Imagine Intoxicated Sex With Ghost

CW:NSFW, MDNI, intoxicated sex (weed) Subbot Ghost, domtop Mreader, safe/sane/consensual, smoking, playing with hands, anal, recreational drug use.

Ghost doesn't like being inebriated. Even when out drinking with the lads at the nearest pub he'll never reach the point of intoxication where he can't drive a car or punch a man's lights out if he needs to. He saw what booze did to his pa, saw what the drugs did to Tommy, he doesn't want the Riley 'legacy' to dig it's roots into him — just the thought of it makes his stomach churn and his lungs feel like they're infested with black mold.

But sometimes when both of you are on leave, the battlefield miles away yet the lingering ache of it all filling his bones with static, he'll indulge in the weed his doc prescribed. It took him a while to be comfortable to use it, both with himself and you. But he trusts you, knows you won't do anything to him that you two hadn't agreed to prior; you're good for him like that.

Too good.

Making the blunt feels intimate in a way Ghost can't describe. The way you sit right next to him on the couch, both of you on even level, works to relax some of the usual tenseness in his spine. It's the careful glide of your knife along the cheap cigar to create a clean cut so you can empty the dried leaves into the trash that has his heart beating a little faster — then again, he's always liked the look of a knife in your hands and how precise you could be with it.

He'd die before he told you his thoughts, so he takes the empty cigar paper without a word and carefully measures how much of the weed he puts in, just a little shy of the recommended dose. He feels your nonjudgmental gaze on his fingers as he rolls the makeshift blunt, yours might be the only one that doesn't make his skin prickle with discomfort.

"You're getting better at that." You note. Ghost's blunt making skill isn't such a slop-job as it used to be when he first started doing this, but it's by no means pretty. "Practice some more and they might start looking half-assed."

"Sod off." The edge in his tone would cut deeper if he didn't bump his shoulder against yours. "At least I don't make 'em look like logs of shite."

"Mean." You tut but shoulder his weight without complaint and wrap an arm around his waist. He leans further on you until he ends up laying across your lap, his back pinning your legs down and his head resting on the couch arm, making himself comfortable like a cat in a sunning spot.

"What? Can't handle the truth?" He says, staring at the blunt in his hand. You don't rush him, sitting in comfortable silence with your hand loosely carding through his disheveled hair, fingers scratching his scalp and the soft blond strands curling at his nape for a few minutes while Simon prepares himself. You know he's ready when he pulls the face mask off his face, biting the end of the blunt between his teeth and turning his head towards you.

You reach to hold his jaw, the sensation of your fingers scraping against his stubble both electric and calming for him. With a small 'click' an equally small flame sparks at the tip of the lighter, the fire dances in his dark eyes as you hold it at the other end of the blunt until it's tip is ignited.

Simon holds the blunt with his fingers, eyes closing as he takes a deep and controlled breath. The smoke lazily crawls down his trachea to settle in his lungs, he holds his breath until there's a small tightness in his chest before breathing out just as slowly. It takes a couple more puffs before he can feel the vestiges of that lazy high begin to nibble on his nerves, eyes cracking open to look at your visage through the dancing smoke.

Weed takes the edge off life for him; the constant ache of his body is easy to forget when the pleasant buzz fills his skull, chest full of feathers and a deep floaty calmness settling in his bones. Only his spine feels weird, like his lower back is made of kinetic sand, muscles tensing and relaxing but even that works to calm him down, ground him to the sensation of your fingers carding through his hair.

When a low grunt escapes him you lean down, plucking the blunt from his lips to kiss him. This kiss isn't rushed like most of your intimacy needs to be — you have all the time in the world. Ghost opens his mouth and hums into the kiss, the taste of weed on his tongue as he lazily licks into your mouth and along your teeth, lingering whisps of smoke escaping through the crack of both of your lips.

You part so he can take another drag of the blunt, your warm lips leaving chaste kisses on his forehead, nose, eyebrows, cheeks, eyelids when he flutters them shut, and anywhere where you can reach. From the corner of his eye he sees you turn the Tv on, setting some cartoon on a low volume to further ease him into the mental space of calmness. Then your free hand reaches to loosely hold his own free hand, your thumb tracing the scars on the back of his hand.

Your hands don't wander any lower, letting him feel your warmth while he lazily finishes his blunt until it's gone. "You alright Si?" You ask.

"Like a hog in shite." He manages, tilting his head to further lean into your hand that's scratching his scalp. It's something he loves about you — the slow approach you like to take with him. Not just jumping straight to sex, though that's fun too, but sitting there with him, letting him ramble about who knows what while you two watch some shite cartoon, giving him sweet kisses when his hand tugs on your shirt.

It makes Simon's heart feel like it could leap from his chest if his ribs weren't in the way. Fuck, at times like these he could probably spill his heart out to you if the weed didn't line his tongue with lead. He still tries in his own way, taking your hand that's holding his and starting to play with your fingers. Following the lines of your palm with his thumb, curling your fingers and laying sloppy kisses along your knuckles, humming contently when you hold his jaw loosely and scrape your thumb against his stubble.

Simon doesn't know when he gets aroused. Only that one moment he's not, and by the time you two part from another lazy kiss he's tenting his sweatpants.

"Hey," Simon grunts, holding your hand by the wrist as he nibbles on your finger. "Want you."

"You already have me." You snort.

Even high as a kite Simon's not all too pleased with your humor, nipping your finger just at the edge of pain. "Smart arse." His lips follow his teeth to soothe the bite with a small kiss. "Want your cock."

Straight to the point, that one.

A small laugh escapes you, "Alright, alright." He grumbles like a bear roused from hibernation when you have him sit up. He grips your shirt to demand one more kiss from you, your lips distracting him so he doesn't notice when you pick him up. The face he makes is hilarious, like a dog that thinks he's too heavy to be picked up.

But he gets over it quickly, large arms wrapping around your neck to hold onto you as you stumble to the bedroom. A breath escapes him when you lay him down on the bed and he doesn't let go, resulting in you tumbling into bed on top of him. The curse you let out when you fall on him makes him giggle like a school boy.

He's absolutely no help when you try to take his clothes off, laying there like a sack of potatoes and only occasionally wriggling in place. Simon gives you an annoyed look and a chiding "Why'r you so slow?" when you have him lift his hips so you can slide his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. His cock bobs against his belly, a tiny drop of precum smearing against his skin.

"Because you're no help." You grunt, quickly taking your own clothes off. "Seriously Si, you're like trying to move a mountain."

But you don't mind him being like this. You love it, and you love him when he just huffs something under his breath and flops over on his front. He spreads his legs, his hard cock laying between his thighs and his hole just peeking out from between his cheeks. "Mhm," Humming Simon hugs the pillow, nuzzling his cheek into it as he gives you a lazy look, his pupils blown wide and eyes puffy. "Sounds like an excuse t'me."

Even with you it took him a while before he could turn his back to you like this, trust you like this.

"Fuck Simon, look at you." Gently you push another pillow under his hips to hike them up and the way he arches his back to grind his cock against it has your breath stuttering in your chest. You can't keep your hands off him, gingerly massaging the back of his thighs as you slowly trail up, purposely skipping over his ass to dig your thumbs into his lower back. "Gorgeous."

Simon lets out a slow breath as your fingers make the muscles relax, eyes closing and his back rippling as he melts into the sheets. "Well aren't you a charmer." His voice is mumbled into the pillow and the small wiggle of his ass he does to entice you is cute as hell. "C'mon." He nags, throwing the harshest glare he can at you. "Fuck me already." He demands, but he doesn't try to get up from his position, content to just lay and have you listen to his commands.

That's another thing side of Ghost you only see when he's high as a kite — he likes being a pillow prince, to give you orders and rest easy knowing you won't do anything he doesn't want. If it doesn't make your heart melt, that he trusts you like that, you don't know what will.

"Alright, alright," You placate him by finally groping his ass while you grab the lube on the nightstand with your other hand. You squirt a generous amount on your hand and warm it up between your fingers, settling between his legs in a way you can lay kisses along his spine while you slowly circle your fingers around his hole. You reach around with your other hand to lazily stroke him, the lube making the glide of your hand smooth and pleasant.

He's more vocal like this, a low half moan leaving him as Simon closes his eyes. Usually the feeling of a body looming over his back would have him tensing and bearing his teeth, but all he does now is breathe in and relax, muscles tensing for a fraction of a moment when your fingers breach him before he relaxes again. Simon's arms tense to hug the pillow tighter, the soft material muffling the soft moans and deeper grunts you pull from his chest with every small movement of your finger.

It's impossible for you not to tease him. "You like that, sweet prince?" But your tone is light and loving, pushing your finger deeper and distracting him from the small hints of pain the stretching of his muscles brings by stroking his cock more firmly, thumbing his cumhole.

Simon moans unabashedly and nods, biting the pillow and worrying it between his teeth when you push another finger inside him. "Mhm," He doesn't deny it. He can't deny it when the weed in his system makes the pleasure 10 times stronger, the usual electric pleasure now slowly replacing the marrow in his bones as your fingers twist and curl against his slick walls. "So good fer me." He mumbles.

Simon feels like he's floating on a cloud; Each kiss along his spine makes small shivers race down his limbs, the coldness of you pouring more lube over his hole complementing the heat of your hand around his cock, his drool soaking into the pillow and the sweetest sounds escaping him as you stretch him out. His cock leaks a constant stream of precum, his hips occasionally giving minute twitches to fuck into your hand but he's too relaxed to do more than that.

"Ready?" You ask when you think he's stretched enough, slowly pulling your fingers out of him. His hole clenches around nothing, dollops of slick lube escaping past his rim and running down his heavy balls; neither him nor his body is happy about the sudden lack of stimulation.

"Hurry." He orders, cracking an eye to watch you from the corner of his eye as you trail kisses up his spine until you're draped over him, catching his lips in a sloppy kiss while you lube your cock and line yourself up.

He moans into your mouth when the tip of your cock pops into him. "Fuck, yes lovie- just like that. . ." Your name sounds like honey on his tongue as you slide in deeper. His muscles contract and relax with each inch you push into him until he's left panting against the pillow when your balls finally rest against him. He's so hot around you, slick and pliant and trusting, blindly seeking you out for another kiss as you both adjust to the new position.

"Good?" You lazily stroke his cock again, feeling his back muscles ripple against your front as the pleasure washes over his system.

"Perfect." He moans and rolls his hips into your hand, simultaneously fucking himself onto your cock. "Move."

"Yes sir." You grin. You keep the pace slow and loving, a continuous and slow roll of your hips making your cock drag against his prostate. Reaching out to hold his free hand you rock your hips to meet his own movements. Each slow scrape of your cock against his walls has him whimpering, an occasional sharp thrust earning you a pleased moan, the pillow muffling the little breathy 'ah- hah-hm- ah' he makes when you grind your cock as deep as it'll go while rubbing his shaft.

Pleasure continues to build in his body, muscles tensing and relaxing, every single thought melting out of his skull save for your name that he moans like a prayer, your loving movements slowly and steadily turning Simon into a pile of goo. He doesn't even notice when he cums, it rushes through him like lightning striking a tree, pearly cum spurting over your hand as he shouts a loud "Fuck!".

You slow down only for a few seconds, long enough for him to come down from his high and begin grumbling and whining, showing you that he's nowhere near reaches his limit despite his cock softening in your hand. So you indulge his gluttonous side, starting to slowly thrust into him as you stroke his soft shaft. You cum eventually, his hole greedily clenching around you as you shoot your cum inside him and then keep going on fucking him until his voice becomes hoarse from screaming your name.

By the time you two are well and truly done you're both wrung dry, a sizable puddle of cum formed beneath his cock and his hole loose and lax, trying to clench around your cock and the cum you fucked deep inside him.

You use what sense you have in your skull that hadn't melted through your cock to roll you to over on the side so he's not laying in his own cum. Simon grunts when you attempt to pull out, gripping your hand as tightly as his relaxed muscles can until you get the message and lay back down, spooning him with your cock still deep inside him.

And fuck, the buzz of weed and pleasure from sex has him so loose and relaxed you could do anything to him and he wouldn't object. But you don't, simply cuddling up against his back and kissing his sweaty nape.

He loves you for that. He loves that he can trust you. He doesn't know when the last time was when he was this relaxed. A small giggle escapes him and he tilts his head back so you can lay kisses on his neck.

"Love you too Si." He hears you mutter against his ear before he falls asleep. And for the first time since the last time you two did this, does he sleep without the nightmares of a cold grave and a burning home haunting his dreams.

Tag list: @dead-end-stuff

[heauxvibez]

He Loves To Talk You Through It

warning: Smut (18+), shoutout to @shes2real for inspiring me because they ATE DOWN with what they wrote today. Please go check their page out!

-

One thing we all love and know Roman for is his way with words. He has a passion for talking, reveling in the sound of his own voice. Yet, as much as he loved to speak, it couldn't compare to the pleasure you felt listening to him.

"Tell daddy how much you love when I fuck you like this..when I look you in the eyes while I hit that spot."

His words always caressed your ears softly, even when they were rough and demanding. Whether he was pinning you down or had his calloused hands wrapped around your throat, every word he spoke felt like a sensual embrace, leaving you breathless with each and every syllable.

"Runnin' ain't gon do nothin’ but make me wanna go deeper.."

That man always makes you feel so many things at once. He has this incredible ability to be both rough and gentle, his words so sinister yet whispered through soft, angelic lips that set your skin ablaze. Your tender, supple skin is handled by his calloused hands, which somehow manage to hold you delicately, with the same gentleness he used to handle your heart.

"Eyes on me.." he commanded with your ass firmly pressed against his pelvis, his dick deep in you almost melting and molding into your wetness as he searched for that spot.

"And don't look away, at all."

You locked eyes with him, staring into his dark eyes through the bedroom closet mirror. That warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest consumed your whole body when he did this. He knew that making you look at him while he snatched every fiber of your being from you would not only make you extremely nervous but also have you begging for mercy.

"A pretty girl like you can't be fucked without me seeing every single moan leave those pretty lips.."

Your whimpers are like music to his ears but listening to them while you were faced down, ass up was never good enough for him. He thrived off having you pinned against his body, physically feeling you fall apart against his skin while you threw your head in the air and allowed your sobs to paint the room.

"Yeah, just like that. Fuck, baby girl. I got you.."

His muscles twitched and tensed against your backside as he held you close by your throat with the hand accompanied by his sleeve. Watching that arm flex as he controlled you practically had your essence dripping down his length. His beautiful smile lines deepened as his lips curled into that sexy smirk that had you swooning each and every time. He watched your eyes divert for a quick second to look at the tattoo. Jesus, he literally had you in a chokehold.

"Look at you, so fucking weak for me right now...melting in my fucking arms,"

Your eyes never left his, just as he wanted, locked in a soul snatching gaze. He felt your body crumbling with every word he spoke, but he held you up. Each heartbeat, each breath, each moan, whimper, bound you tighter to him,

'That's it mama, keep lookin' at daddy.."

He slowly continues his thrusts, being sure to aim for your sweet spot with each movement of his hips. His right hand always finds it's way to your clit rubbing in slow, agonizing circles sliding in between your slit to dip into your wetness and back to your throbbing pearl.

"Damn. You're so in love with me aren't you baby?" he asks before allowing his tongue to trace his lips.

The air felt thin, almost suffocating. You wondered how you could still look this man in the eyes while releasing soft, desperate gasps. Yet, each sound that escaped you, made him throb in response to each breath you made. Your hands clung to his wrists, not to push him away but to anchor yourself as the pleasure pulsed through you.

"You couldn't hide it if you wanted to, you're so damn wet for me..just for me" Your juices still coated his lips from the taste of you he had earlier. He moaned as his mind gave him a quick flashback of his feasting session earlier.

That moan rumbled through your ear almost pushing you to the edge. His fingers still toyed with your clit, pulling away and turning into soft, light taps when he'd hear your breath quicken.

"Aren't you?" he questioned again, this time a bit firmer. A bit rougher.

"Yes, daddy.." you choked out before your teeth sunk into your lower lip. His touch was still steady against your throat. It felt as if every sound trying to escape you was trapped by his grasp.

"Good." his low and husky voice brushed against your ear.

"Because, I'm just as in love with you.." he breathed out, another moan escaping his lips.

You weren't sure how much more of this sweet torment you could take, but you had no choice. The night would be endlessly filled with his touch and the intoxicating words that flowed from his lips.

"Aht, look at me while you cum, sweetheart. You better not look away."

"I just need you to nut one more time baby."

"That's it my love, give me that nut. Fuck, mmm, I love this shit."

---------------------------

Very very random, but hope you enjoyed it!

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi

@msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @blacst4r @sassginamillls @wrestlingprincess80

@headoftheetable @trashbin-nie @sheyaish @tshepisho @mzv11 @venusesworld

[quaintii]

To be with you is all I want.

Warnings: breeding kink, slight choking, p with plot, fem!reader. Very passionate smut below! A slight spoiler of Atsv. torture, bodily harm, and blood!!! trigger warning !!!

enjoy 💖💖!!

You and Miguel have always been each other's partner in capturing anomaly's. Yet Miguel always suggested that you stay back, away from harm. But you continuously refused his request, you couldn't be inside your apartments, walking around in circles, wondering if he's fine or not. Worry runs through your bloodstream, every second, same goes for Miguel but worse. He worries every second that you'll die because of him.

In the middle of the night, you kept rustling back and forth in your bed, trying to grasp onto something. Someone. You immediately wake up and realize Miguel has gone off to a mission without even warning you about it. You are furious and quickly put on your suit and ask Lyla to find out where he is. You swing your way into a weird, black-noir universe. It looked bleak and darkly cynical. You figured that Miguel was using Spider-Man noir's backup. The atmosphere was so thick, you almost choked as you weren't adjusted to some multiverses. You caught a whiff of smoke and fire.

Your Spidey senses then took the lead and you finally found where Miguel was. You were incredibly furious with him but you couldn't think of that right now. Miguel was fighting Morlum. You've constantly heard slight whispers about him, especially from Miguel. What you can take from what you already know, Morlum has tried hijacking the multiverses and he is seeking to find the spider totems and take control of HQ. You swing your way in but your Spidey senses react too slow to a crashing wall heading your way.

Luckily, you crotch down to avoid it as best as you could. It leaves quite a big injury on you though. Your forearm now has a big open slit trailing down in blood, due to the concrete building. It was a deep cut. When Miguel felt someone else at the scene, he happened to lay eyes on you, he was worried you would severely bleed out. The blood wouldn't stop. His eyebrows furiously furrowed together and he clenched his jaw and tried his best to focus on Morlum. Spider-noir was throwing many walls towards Morlum, trying to crush him to pieces. Mush.

Miguel used his red lasso and webs to tie down Morlum's legs together, causing him to fall down. But Morlum uses his super strength to make the floor below him fall. Ensuring his legs to finally let go. The floor completely crumbles and produces a ton of dust. You wipe your dust off your suit and can seem to see anything. Your hearing is very sensitive so they start ringing as metal scratches at each other due to the collapse. You sense someone near you and before you have time to turn around and web them, they hold your back against their chest.

"Wow, you sure seem like a good piece of bait for me to use!" Morlum says enthusiastically. "You look pretty cute too..too bad I have to kill you." "NO! No, get your fucking hands off her, you fucking shitbag. She's not a part of this, let her go." Miguel yells.

Morlum holds a knife at your throat so suddenly, you shiver with terror, running through your blood. Your flight or fight turns on, and you don't look like you have an option. This man has such a strong hold onto your body, you can't even let alone, move a muscle. "You seem to be quite concerned about this woman, well that puts you to more use!" Morlum chuckles. Miguel's eyes filled with absolute trepidation. His breathing becomes rougher, he begins to hyperventilate. He can't imagine ever losing you, he can't lose another dear loved one again. He can't imagine the pain of two, let alone one. Morlum pushes the knife closer into your skin, carving a light line. Miguel's jaw clenched harder than a rock. He didn't know what to do and he didn't know where spider-noir went.

You were trembling with fear, tears swelled your eyes. You felt like this was all your fault, because you're always so stubborn and never bother to ever listen to Miguel. Your lips quiver as you bite down on your lips, hard enough to draw out blood. You felt like all of this was a dream, you hoped for it to be one. Miguel moved a few inches, trying to grab you out of his grasp. Morlum then threatened to stab you in the liver if Miguel moved any closer. Miguel's body felt like he was being stabbed with thousands of knives. Morlum would make small cuts around your body, some deep, some shallow. Miguel yells "Mierda!" with a hurtful tone, he secretly advises Lyla to send backup immediately. He was too scared to breathe, fearing he could easily lose you in a second. You both stared at each other, a wholeheartedly look within fear hiding behind it. Miguel was trying to reassure you that everything was going to be ok. "Esta bien, mi vida. Te voy a sacar de esto, te lo juro, amor. Amas quedate quieta." Miguel's expression was drowning in helplessness.

"She seems like quite a trophy, Miguel! I can see you do have quite a taste." Morlum licks your cheek and nibbles a bit at your neck. Your huge discomfort grows more and you can't stop crying. Miguel was revolted by this, clenching his knuckles till his blood went cold, white. He felt like his jaw was about to lock and break. "Don't touch her! You keep your repugnant self away from her." Miguel yelled with an immense amount of hatred. Both of your guys' Spidey senses tingle as you feel other Spidermen approaching the situation. They all work collectively to pick up a razor sharp platform, sending it straight towards Morlum's head. Before Morlum could sense what was coming towards him, you immediately tuck your head and his grip on you releases. His head was sliced off clean. Blood guzzling out of his body. Before you could fall weakly on your knees, Miguel runs towards you, carrying you in his arms bridal style. He hugs you so tightly and you both tear up together.

"I thought I almost lost you, amor. I can't ever imagine losing you, ever. You're my everything." Miguel says as he places you grabs ahold of your cheeks, wiping away the blood and tears off of your cheeks. Giving you long, passionate kisses to you. Pecks on your forehead too. The amount of reassurance made you feel more at ease and comfortable.

Miguel continues to carry you in bridal style on the way home. He opens the window to your guys' bedroom and heads to the bathroom. He keeps showering you with a lot of love and reassurance. "Mi amor, te amo, por favor nunca vuelvas a hacer eso. Mi corazón ya mero se murió. Te amo demasiado, princesa. I couldn't bear seeing you being hurt, ever. I love you so, so much." He said while holding your body from behind. You were between his thighs, you laid your head back onto his chest, hearing his heart thump loudly. The bathtub was so warm, you could stay like this with him for hours. You loved Miguel. And he loved you too.

Both of your bodies emit more heat and the warmth calmly engulfs you both. You were both now clean, Miguel got out first and dried himself off. Despite seeing him nude multiple times before, you loved seeing him like that. He then wrapped a bath towel around his lower waist. Then grabs your hand and lets the water drain. He wrapped a towel over your body. Letting you stay warm. Then he dried yours and his hair with the hairdryer. You loved how much he put focus and care into you. You would return the same back too by giving him massages, going out on walks, seeing movies, etc.

Miguel then caught your eyes wandering around his body, he slightly smirked. "Take a picture to look at me for longer, mi vida." Miguel said while sneering. "Porque? Cuando te tengo enfrente de mi, cariño. I can't ever take my eyes off of you, you're so handsome." You say while heading towards him, grabbing the back of his neck and rustling his hair. He then pushed his lips against yours. Unfolding a deep, passionate, needy kiss. Your tongue wrapped with his. The smell of skin filled your nose, your fluttering heart thumped more and more. The soft taste of his plump lips on yours, his warm embrace against your chest as both towels fall on the floor. His gentle hands reaching your body, aching to be touched. His hands roams to your neck and hair, proceeding down to your hips. You then jump onto his chest and he grabs a hold of your hips. You both try not bumping into the door and open it while still kissing.

Your mind was starting to turn dizzy and foggy. He gently placed your chest on top of the bed. Giving you pecks and small bites along your spine, making you shiver. He softly turned you around. Both of your guys' lips magnetized. Not letting go, not even for a gasp of air. Miguel positions his back against the bed frame, pulling you on his hip, holding you in a lotus position. Your chest touching him enlightens fire down your core. Your nipples perked from the amount of arousal growing down your core. "You're the most beautiful, sosphicasted, intelligent, erotic, loving woman I've ever known and loved my whole life." Miguel said with a soft tone. Whispering it in your ear. Nibbling it softly, pulling out small moans out of your mouth. "Susurro estas palabras solo para que el mundo las escuche. Tu eres mi mundo entero, mi amor." Miguel said while groaning against your neck. Your head slightly goes back, you bite your lower lips. "Miguel, please more.. I want you to touch me more." You say with a hint of desperation and begging. "No muñeca.. we have the whole night to ourselves right now. Let me cherish and worship your body.

Miguel slides his fingers across your cunt, pulling it to your face. You moan to the touch of his rough fingers on your slick wetness."Look how soaking wet you're for me, cariño. Let me put that pussy to use, si? ¿Quieres eso, amor?" Miguel said softly with admirable eyes boring into yours. You nod slowly, groaning as he picks you by the hips. He then placed the head of his cock against your entrance. Your cunt twitched at the heat emitting from his breath against your neck. He then slammed you onto his cock, reaching your cervix.

You feel your body's nerves crashing down, the pleasure makes you feel so full. You moan erotically against Miguel's chest, cursing under your breath. "F-fuck Miguel, I feel you in my stomach.. you're so big. It's t-too much f'me.." you say between pants. "I love having you like this muñeca. I can't ever lose you, understand?" Miguel said softly. "God your body does unimaginable things to me, cariño." He cups his rough, big hands around your ass, slapping it as he begins bringing your hips and down his cock. Miguel stared at your beautiful face, saying incoherent words and the seductive expressions you would make. Your mouth being agape, gasping for air as Miguel would push every oxygen in you out of your body with a simple thrust of his cock. Your cunt spasms as Miguel grabs your throat softly. "Look at me, amor. I wanna see your pretty face getting fucked." Miguel said with a lustful tone. His eyes never let go of yours. You tried your best to not roll your eyes to the back of your head and kept eye contact with him.

More fire enlightened deep inside your core when Miguel's cock twitched when you reached for his neck, nibbling on it, leaving hickies. Miguel returning the same for you. Both of you are groaning and moaning, loudly. Not having a care of who could hear the both of you. The pleasure was towering over your body and your cunt uncontrollably spasms when Miguel said, "Cum around my cock for me, amorcito. Do it. Make me cum. I want my babies inside of your gorgeous body. M-mierda.." As you ride your orgasm out, Miguel's pace fastens, leaving you with tremendous overstimulation that leaves your throat choking out screams and wails for him to stop. A few more thrusts and he finally pumps his seed inside of you. Small droplets of tears leave your eyes, Miguel wipes them away by kissing them. "You did good f'me, baby. I love you so much." "I love you so much more than you could even imagine, Miguel. Te amo cariño."

Miguel finally pulls out of you, leaving your cunt clenching around nothing. Miguel then grabs a couple of small towels to clean you up. He then gave you your loungewear as he clothed himself with his boxers and shorts. You tie up your hair into a messy bun, then turn to lay beside Miguel. His arm hugging around your body, pulling you close. His chest against your face, both of you easily fall asleep.

:33 hai guys this took me Abt 1 hr n a half to do! This was really fun to do, please send more requests! Love u all ! <3