#circular saw marked

[piercelong]

Home Office - Freestanding Home office library - large rustic freestanding desk medium tone wood floor, brown floor and wood wall home office library idea

[falling-endlessly]

The Finer Things in Death

Alastor x Soulmate!Female!Reader

Summary: An AU where your soulmate's first words to you are tattooed on your body in their handwriting.

Oh dear, where's your smile?

You knew those words by heart. Could recite them backwards, in your sleep even. Those damning words have been inscribed on the inside of your ankle for as long as you could remember, the elegant cursive strokes poking out of your shoe line.

In theory, somewhere, someone else was supposed to be sporting your own neat, boxy handwriting. You'd say you lucked out with yours. Some soul marks were less than pleasant, and others were downright embarrassing (imagine having the words move, asshole written on your stomach for the rest of your life. No thank you).

At least your soulmate was trying to cheer you up, right?

Yeah, but there was just one teeny, tiny problem.

Your soulmate was dead. Long dead actually.

Were they stillborn? Did their toddler self die in a house fire or something? Night after night you laid awake in your bed, pondering what the hell could have possibly happened to have altered the entire course of fate.

All you really knew was that your soul mark was a light gray (indicating a severed bond) instead of the usual inky black, and it had been since the day you were born. Everyone was in shock to see the faint words on your little ankle. After all, how could a soul mark exist if the other person wasn't even alive to speak those words into existence?

Simply put, you were a conundrum, and it had been some time since you had dedicated effort into figuring out why? You'd accepted it. Your soulmate was dead. Life went on.

Besides, you'd spent enough time grieving over someone you'd never met before.

Your lifestyle was not extravagant by any means, but it was comfortable. You had a steady income, lived on your own in an apartment in the city, and survived off of more than ramen bowls. Every day you would come home and read in your little fluffy alcove that you'd built yourself by your window, or pop open a bag of chips (and the occasional bottle of wine, if you were feeling fancy) while you watched the latest crime show releases from your couch.

Yes, so comfortable was your little routine, that you didn't notice the robbery happening in the convenience store you were browsing in, or the stray bullet coming for your head until it was too late. Your skull exploded in a world of pain, eyes rolling back as your body crumpled to the ground.

Dying was an interesting experience, to say the least. Your soul floated from your body, the final notes of music that blasted from your earphones fading into nothingness like the sound of a car driving away.

There was a brief moment where you were struck numb, hovering in the air as you stared down at your glassy eyed corpse, blood pooling alarmingly from the circular shaped hole in your head. You heard screams of the other customers behind you, but they were kind of muffled, like you were underwater.

It didn't last long though, because before you knew what was happening, you felt an almighty tug downwards,  like an anchor had just chained itself to your stomach.

And that was how you ended up in hell. Fun. What were you here for? You had no idea. Maybe God got mad that your teenage self stole a few packs of gummy bears in high school. But a life of eternal damnation and suffering seemed a little harsh, didn't it?

Before you could contemplate the semantics of it though, something...strange happened. Your ankle, right where you'd tried countless times to forget your soul mark existed, was burning like a fucking brand.

You hissed sharply in pain, frantically pulling down your sock to assess the damage. Was the eternal punishment starting already or something? Shit, you had terrible pain tolerance.

But what you saw made you gasp. In fact, you could hardly believe your eyes.

Because in the place of your faded grey soul mark, the letters had been reinvigorated, darkened with a swift hand and—glowing they were glowing holy shit.

"Hah," you huffed in disbelief, shaking your head slowly. "So that was it, huh? I was destined to meet my shitty soulmate in hell this whole fucking time?" You punctuated the last words with a few angry kicks to an unassuming patch of weeds. What a cosmic joke at your existence.

But, like you always did in shitty situations, you gathered all of your raging emotions, stuffed them tightly in a box at the back of your mind, and cooled your head. Freaking out in this place would do you no good.

Turned out hell was pretty much like the world you'd left, except for the fact that you could kill someone on the street and nobody would bat an eye. Like all of the depraved aspects of humanity were on full display now in a somehow still functioning society.

You managed to snag a job at an old record store, the owner giving you one look before grunting and gesturing to the register—but not before lifting his jacket to show you the long assault riffle strapped across his chest. Yeesh, you got the message.

It wasn't a bad job by any means, especially considering where you were. Sure a little boring and monotonous, but you'd restock thousands of old albums if it meant staying away from the overlords.

Oh, yeah, another thing. Overlords were like the big shots around hell. Messing with them usually meant a death sentence, or worse, a contract.

And if there was anything at all that you picked up from all those nights of watching television, it was that you do not make deals with the devil. Really, elementary level shit. And you'd never actually seen Lucifer, mind you, but these demons were probably a close second, right?

Yeah, so really, you were just living a shittier variant of your life on earth it seemed. Repetitive, safe and comforting. You were even starting to like the scent of musty cardboard, as weird as that was.

And once again, all thoughts of your soulmate slipped your mind.

Until one day, when everything went to shit.

****

It started like this: with the sad sight of your empty fridge.

You groaned, dragging a tired hand down your face. Seriously? You thought you'd restocked already, damn it. 

Your stomach growled achingly, and you sighed, wondering if you'd actually die again if you starved yourself. Begrudgingly, you decided that you didn't really want to chance it, throwing on the first set of clothes that you saw and slipping out of your dingy apartment to make a quick grocery run.

You generally hated leaving your apartment, and didn't do so except to retrieve bare necessities or walk across the block to go to work.

Why? Well, see exhibit A to your left: some poor, random demon screeching and running around on fire. See exhibit B to your right: a turf war between two rival gangs. And finally how could you forget, cannibal colony, slurping up intestines like bloody, chunky spaghetti. Disgusting.

The worst thing about hell wasn't the fact that you were in hell, it was the fact that the worst of the worst people were all cramped together like some fucked up refugee camp, and some people were significantly worse than others. Which sucked, for the poor unfortunate souls just trying to get by. Like you.

You sighed, ducking under a stray stream of bullets (you weren't falling for that shit twice) and side stepping pools of blood and guts. Just a regular Monday morning in hell. God damn it.

It seemed luck wasn't on your side though, because an ugly, dog-headed demon blocked your path, sneering down at you smugly. "Hey bitch, it's your lucky day. The big boss is hiring, and you fit the profile."

You clenched your grocery bags in a white-knuckled grip. Nobody would give a flying fuck if you were dragged off of the street in broad daylight. "Not interested."

"Oh it wasn't a suggestion," he chuckled darkly. You tensed as you were surrounded by at least four other demons. Shit, you knew you should have slept in.

"You like apples?" You nodded sharply at the demon in charge.

His face twisted in annoyance. "Why the fuck do y—"

You reached into your bag, before hurling a granny smith straight at his forehead. He yelped as it made contact, stumbling back as he shook his head in confusion. While everyone was still in shock from your weapon of choice, you shoved your way out of the circle, gunning it straight down the street because your second life did depend on it.

"Get her!" You heard a yell of absolute rage, making you shiver. Fuck, that did not sound promising. That apple must have really pissed him off.

Putting your limited aerobics to use, you ducked, dodged and lunged through the crowd like a pro. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, air burning your lungs as you pumped your legs faster. But of course, your grocery bag ripped open, sending all of your food tumbling and you by extension, tripping and face planting in the dirt rather pathetically.

A meaty hand gripped a handful of your hair, yanking it up harshly. You cried out as he pulled, hands uselessly trying to smack his away, but his hold only tightened. A liquor-filled breath and cheap cologne invaded your senses, making you cough.

"Uppity bitch," he growled, giving your scalp a painful yank for good measure. "You actually thought you could get away? Maybe I should teach you a lesson, huh? Sample the goods."

You froze, every nerve in your body going cold. So far in your stay in hell, you'd managed to avoid the more depraved souls here. You kept your head down, didn't draw attention to yourself, and were mostly left alone. Looked like today, your luck had finally run out.

"Get the hell off of me!" You spat, twisting around vehemently, only for your head to snap to the side as you were harshly backhanded.

"Stop your fucking whining and stay still!" He snapped, narrowing his eyes.

You bared your teeth, snapping at him aggressively.

A round of mocking chuckles went around the group of your kidnappers, the one holding your hair giving you a wicked grin. "Shit, that was cute. Really—"

He didn't get to finish his sentence, because his head exploded. Literally exploded, blood and brain matter dripping from your face. His hand went slack, dropping you on your wobbling knees.

Everyone was silent for a second, staring at the bloody mess where the demon was standing two seconds prior.

And that was when you heard it. Static. Loud, crackling and ominous.

Your mouth went dry. Shit. Shitty shit shit. You knew what that meant. How could you not? The asshole broadcasted his killings all over hell like a fucking psychopath. And now, it was your turn to become hell's gory entertainment. Fan-fucking-tastic.

You stood frozen, breath stuck in your throat as dark, menacing tendrils slowly curled along the walls. A large, grinning shadow rounded the corner, before the culprit himself stalked into view, razor sharp teeth on display as he tilted his head. "Oh," his grin widened. "Am I interrupting?"

"N-No man," one of the braver demons stuttered, taking a step back. "You can have her—"

Splat.

You turned slowly to face the bloody wall, eyes wide in disbelief.

"How distasteful," the radio demon shook his head. "As if I'd participate in your brainless thuggery. No, no. Unlike you gentlemen, I have class. Truly," his eyes lit up like glowing radio dials, a dark shadowy mass rising behind him as his antlers branched out like a gnarled, rotten tree. "Did your mother never teach you any manners?"

Faster than you could blink, the demons around you were reduced to blood, cartilage and splintered bone. The overwhelming irony scent made you want to gag, but you didn't dare move a muscle, eyes fixated on the terrifying sight before you.

When the radio demon noticed your staring, his smile sharpened, antlers shrinking as he leisurely approached you. Oh no. Nononono.

You struggled to keep from hyperventilating, your body going into shock as he leaned into your personal space. Two bloody fingers pushed into your cheeks, forcing your mouth into a morbid, artificial smile. "Oh dear," he tutted in amusement. "Where's your smile?"

You jerked back violently, eyes wide as icy cold realization washed over you. Dread squeezed your lungs as you stared at the grinning, bloody figure of your soulmate in horror.

The radio demon. Psychopath and mass murderer.

Your soulmate.

What the FUCK.

"T-This," your voice shook. "This is not happening."

There was a sudden screech of radio static, before his own eyes widened. Shit. "What," he said sharply. "Did you just say?"

"A-Ah," you trembled, leaning back. Every single nerve in your body was alight, screaming at you to get the ever-loving fuck away from him.  In what was probably the stupidest and most desperate plan of your life, you pointed over his shoulder fearfully. "Look! Another one!"

As soon as he turned his head, you bolted down the street.

****

You slammed your front door closed behind you, double—triple checking your lock before sliding down to the floor in a panting mess.

Immediately you grew paranoid. What the fuck were you thinking? A lock wouldn't keep the radio demon out. You needed fifty more locks and ten more doors. You needed to barricade yourself inside for the next month. You needed—

"Hello there!" An exuberant voice chirped.

You screamed, throwing the first thing you could grab in his direction. He caught the house slipper, inspecting it in amusement, before tossing it over his shoulder.

"My, did I scare you sweetheart? Apologies," he grinned smugly, relaxing in your recliner with a mug of coffee. Your favorite mug.  

You blinked. What the fuck?

"What are you doing in my house?" You squeaked, fingers digging into your welcome mat.

"Oh dear, allow me to introduce myself," he set the mug down on your coffee table, leisurely rising from the couch and offering a hand. "I'm Alastor! A pleasure to be meeting you sweetheart, quite a pleasure."

You didn't take his hand, instead choosing to gape at him like a dead fish.

He retracted his hand, tilting his head with a shit-eating grin. Twirling his cane, he continued like there wasn't just an awkward and terrifying pause. "I hope you don't mind that I followed you! You see, I believe our conversation was cut a bit...short." His eyes glowed as unidentifiable symbols floated in the air around him.

As quickly as they appeared however, they disappeared like they were never there. Jesus Christ, this man was giving you emotional whiplash. "Anywho!" He perked up again, ever the charming grin on his face. "Enough about me! I've yet to catch your name, darling."

Fuck. You really didn't want to give him your name.

But before you could open your mouth, he leaned closer to you, grin widening ominously. "I hope you're not thinking of lying, my dear. I must say, I'm not very fond of that quality."

"Y-Y/n!" You said quickly, raising your hands to shield your face.

There was a slight pause, before a gentle touch swiped at your cheek, retracting after a moment. You peeked your eye open, only to become vaguely ill at the sight.

"You had a little something on your face," he chuckled in amusement, holding out a clump of brain matter. With a swift flick, it was magicked away.

"What do you want?" You whimpered, overwhelmed with the entire situation.

"Oh dear, is it really that strange for me to want to get to know my soulmate?" He tilted his head, leaning towards you uncomfortably close.

"Y-Yes, actually," you stuttered, trying to look anywhere but his prominent red eyes. "I thought you'd do something more along the lines of...killing and eating me." You shrunk back as his grin widened. "Please don't eat me."

"How morbid, I would never!" He waved it away, like the idea was preposterous. "My word! What awful rumors you've been hearing about me!"

"You frequent cannibal colony and I just saw you tear apart six demons like they were freshly baked bread," you stared at him incredulously. "What hasn't been spot on?"

He paused, before giving you a humoring chuckle. "Well it seems your impression of me needs correcting!" Before you knew what was happening, nimble fingers encircled your wrist, pulling it forward gently. He pressed warm lips to the back of your hand, before giving you a charming grin. "Enchanté, ma chère."

You blinked, breath stuck in your throat. "What—What does that mean?"

"Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head about it!" He gently set your hand down, before pinching your cheek condescendingly. "Well my dear, I'm afraid I have other responsibilities I must attend to!"

He stood up with a flourish, leaning on his microphone cane as he smirked at you. "Not to worry!" He snapped his fingers, and a slim, feminine shadow emerged from the ground. "Missy here will watch over you in my stead."

"What? No, I—"

"I'll be back before you know it!" He offered a chilling smile, before melting into a puddle of shadows.

You gaped at the spot where he once stood, trying to process what the actual fuck just happened. Your gaze slid over to the feminine looking shadow, still standing in the corner of your living room. She grinned at your attention, teeth sharpened.

You closed your eyes, head thumping back against your door in exhaustion. 

"I'm so fucked."

****

Enchanté, ma chère : Charmed, my dear

[rosenkranz-does-things]

And the more I think of it, the more absurd it is that you could threaten me at all, Sergeant Loughton, when the Last Word tells me that you’ve been fused to that diner chair ever since you turned sixteen.

I saw Natalie Dormer as Moriarty in Elementary and decided that this is what Val looks like. they even sound very similar. now, do the prayer marks on Val's skin look kinda like circular gallifreyan? yes they do because I have no imagination. also as I'm looking at the script now it says "black and delicate marks of ink" but oh well, it's too late now. and anyway I think making them black here would've been too distracting.

I've been trying to fuse that dude with the chair for so long. I intended to make it look more horrifying but ultimately decided against it because there were too many unnecessary and distracting details, also the perspective was wrong (I mean, even more so than it is now. I'm not very good at perspective)

adding a close-up of this too because I'm kinda proud of the way the light on this mug turned out lol.

[chososdiscordkitten]

I'm Stuck!

artist: yunonoai on twt

Synopsis: Gojo buys new washing machines nd chooses a shitty placement for em ⸜( ´ ꒳ ` )⸝

Pairing: Gojo x Fem!Reader Content: smut, implied reader is thicker than a snicker, established relationship, teasing, r gets stuck between a wall nd said machines, dirty talk, multiple orgasms (f), a sprinkle of manhandling, he refuses to admit he's wrong, cream pie

(a.n) if u wanna see what I picture- look at this

MDNI

When you first moved in with Gojo, you became all too aware of the fact that he was very particular about his design choices. Almost all your suggestions were vetoed the minute you would offer them.

And when the cheap washing machines that came with his apartment broke; You saw this as an opportunity to control at least one room in the now-shared apartment.

You stood beside Satoru in the laundry room- eyeing the small space and telling him, “If you put them here,” referencing the back wall of the rectangle room, “-it’ll feel more open.” you pointed at the wall. Looking at his pensive expression. 

Gojo was just petty enough to ignore your suggestion. Holding a measuring tape and looking at the 28-inch mark. “The website says they’re this big-” looking up at you as he measured. 

Even if you were kinda right- Satoru wanted to put the washer and dryer pair on the opposite side. Leaving only the entrance of the small room- and a small gap between the wall and the massive machines. 

You parted your lips- about to speak. Remembering the photo Satoru had shown you of the machines- far better and more modern than the old ones that opened at the top. 

These new ones had doors that opened outwards- and as you looked at the gap between where the machines would go, and where the wall was. You were sure they wouldn’t be able to open fully. 

But you held your tongue- knowing Satoru would mull it over for a few days before telling you that you were right. 

The space was small- sure. But you were sure it was enough space to fit through, and besides, how long would Satoru let those machines sit in the wrong place before calling someone to help switch their placement. 

On the day of delivery, Satoru looked at the machines as though they were his pride and joy, like he was the one who did all the washing in the house. 

The way the handymen looked at your idiot boyfriend was laugh-worthy. “They’ll go against that wall”, he instructed. 

You were sure the men struggled more in placing them where Satoru instructed than if they just flipped them and pushed them to the back wall. 

Satoru generously tipped them for their efforts, and once they left, you stood at the small doorway. Looking at the washing machines placed against the wall as though it were a laundromat.

“I hate saying it-” he clicked his tongue, leaning against the machine and looking at you smugly. “But I told you so~” 

You grinned- amused at how right he thought he was. You winced, “Do me a favor real quick-” fighting off the laugh about to rumble from your chest. “Open one of the doors.” 

Satoru furrowed his eyebrows at your request, dragging a hand down to the circular door. Smugly popping it open, only to hear it ding against the wall. You puffed a small laugh from your nose at how his face fell. 

“And..” you started, walking towards him and fwipping your hand up and down- guiding him to move. 

Stepping into the small gap between the machine and the wall with the door open, and letting a small giggle leave your lips as your thick thighs pressed against the metal. 

Satoru looked down at your hips that were flush against the machine- he measured how much space the machines took up. But Gojo didn’t account for the space you would need to do laundry properly. 

You turned your head, looking at him over your shoulder. Watching him pull his lips to the side, thinking up some snide remark about how he was still right. 

Even a week after having those machines in the most inconvenient place- Satoru refused to admit he was wrong. He refused to call the handymen back and have them move the machines where you told him to. 

You were more affected by his mistake than he was. Bothersome little doors that had hit you more times than you could count when they would bounce off the wall. 

And all the times you would feel your hips brush against the open machines- you would furrow your eyebrows. Recalling how petty he could be. 

Truth being- Satoru hadn’t called the handymen to fix the minor problem because when you first stepped into the small space of the laundry room- Seeing your thighs press against the machine made him hope you would get stuck one day. 

As though he had manifested it- the day came.

You were doing laundry per usual- struggling with the stupid doors and growing more and more irritated by the second. 

And when you thought you were finally finished- slamming the dryers door shut and hearing it whirr. 

You turned around to see a discarded sock on the ground, thinking nothing of it and stepping back into the small space- hips pressed against the slightly protruding door of the dryer. Picking up the sock with a small huff. 

Straightening back up and aiming to take a step back. Only to feel resistance from the wall- you tried shifting with even more strength. Only for the wall and machine to refuse to let you go. 

You looked to the machine- recalling all the times this very same scenario had happened. Wondering what went wrong this time. And seeing the clear plastic bubble-like door trap your hips. Add that with the bending- causing your hips to widen in the slightest. 

You sighed- frustrated that you had actually managed to get stuck in the small space. You tried a few more steps- a small wiggle, a aimed step back- nothing worked.

And wearing mini shorts- practically underwear that left your plush thighs exposed against the wall and the plastic door. Knowing it would only hurt if you pushed yourself out. 

You held the stupid black sock in your hand as you contemplated calling out to the idiot that waited for you in the living room. 

You shouted his name once- waiting a few seconds to see if he would come running to see what was wrong. 

Only Satoru was sat with a handful of unfolded socks in his lap, watching the show you normally watched together- so focused on the scene playing out before him. 

You closed your eyes- cringing at the cliche you were in. Calling his name once more- with more urgency and a gruff to it. That’s what pulled Satoru from his focus on the tv show. 

His hand reached for the remote and pressed pause- trying to determine if he was just imagining things or if you actually called out to him. 

And when you called out to him a third time, Satoru tossed the socks from his lap and ran to the laundry room. All the urgency in the world.

Worried you had seen a bug, or a home invasion- or every single dangerous thing he could picture happening. Running into the room asking you what was wro-

His lips parted in amazement once he saw your bottom trapped between the machine’s door and the wall. Staring at your exposed thighs and the crease of your ass.

“Don’t just stand there- go get some baby oil or something to get me ou-” Satoru reached a hand out to your bottom, causing you to silence your directions. His cheeks flushed and eyes glimmering full of the possibilities. 

Satoru sighed and smiled, looking up to the ceiling with closed eyes to thank the deity that had granted him his wish. 

Looking back down to your ass- slightly bent and you trying to reach a hand back to push him off, all but telling him again to go get something to help you out. 

But knowing your boyfriend and his peculiar tastes- this was brewing in his mind from the minute he saw your hips against the small space. 

“I prayed for this.” he whispered, earning a small ‘what?’ to leave your lips. 

Satoru placed both of his hands on your bottom, his long fingers sliding beneath the light fabric of your shorts. Softly groping at the skin and peaked his eyebrows. You only clenched your jaw and closed your eyes. 

Hearing the ramblings of the man behind you. “You should’ve just listened to me.” you scoffed, planting your hands on the wall in front of you as though Gojo was doing a body search, trailing his fingers down your clothed core. 

His eyes dimmed- watching the light goosebumps form on your skin, lightly pressing his fingers against the little mound beneath your shorts. Earning a small exhale laced with a whimper to leave your lips. His other hand groped firmly at your ass, enjoying the view below him. 

“No. I know now I was right not to listen to you.” Satoru grinned menacingly, watching your hips try to shift against the whirring machine next to you. 

The tips of his fingers against your clothed core making you let out a shivering huff. “You still want me to help you out?~” Gojo asked- too smug to be considered as a genuine offer.

Satoru made light circles on the little mound at the top of your cunt- shivers running down your thighs as you tried to muster the words. 

“You must’ve planned this-” he scoffed, trailing his fingers to the side of your shorts. A small damp spot formed on them, telling Gojo all he needed to know. “Prancing around all day wearing this-” 

You parted your mouth- feeling the cool air hit your dampening cunt that pulsed with every accusation he spouted at you. 

Satoru sucked his teeth- placing the tips of his fingers on your clit, causing a small gasp to fall from your throat. You let out a ragged breath, his fingers starting small circles against you. 

Trying to keep your legs from buckling at the slow pace Satoru held. A small ‘tsk’ left his lips, full of feigned disappointment. “Tryna tempt me allll day.” The smile evident in his tone. 

You only breathed a small whimper at his words- knowing it wasn’t true, but what state were you in to deny it? 

“M’pretty sure I saw your pretty pussy a handful of times~” he purred- fastening his pace in the slightest. 

Your breathing took up in pace- trying not to let out the small moans Satoru was pulling from you with every small circle he made against you. 

The bulge in Gojo’s bottoms grew with every little whimper you let out- his hard cock twitching beneath the fabric as soft moans left your lips, landing in his ears as harmonies.

“If you wanted me to fuck you that badly-” he hummed, quickening his fingers and hearing the low squelches coming from your cunt. Knees threatening to buckle as Satoru trailed the hand on your ass up your slightly arched back, pushing up the hem of your t-shirt. 

“All you had to do was ask, baby.” he cooed, watching your hands on the wall start to slip as your moans became louder, feeling Gojo’s hard bulge pressing against your ass. Desperate to get some kind of friction, whereas you- were desperate to finish. 

An orgasm so close it had one of your eyes shut and the other threatening to follow its movements- “You didn’t have to scheme up ways for me to fuck you.” he teased, trying to dig your fingers into the wall as Satoru watched you come undone, cunt clenching around nothing. 

Feeling your core pulse onto his fingertips, small shivering sighs leave your lungs as he works you down an orgasm. You steady your breathing- becoming more aware of Gojo’s bulge pressing onto your plump bottom. 

You clenched your teeth- Satoru’s fingers trailing from your clit down to the source of the slick that coated his digits. The other resting on your side to stabilize you. Wouldn’t want you to come unstuck too soon now. 

You were glad you were faced away from him- your vision bordering on going double and the heat rising to your cheeks just thinking about the cliche you were in. Thinking of how easily accessible you were to him at that moment. 

You started feeling his fingers dip into your entrance- too slow and far too eager to prep you. “Just-” you huffed, feeling his hand halt its movements. 

“Just. Fuck me.”

Quiet- but clear enough for Satoru to hear you. 

Huffed and urged as you said it- it made Satoru realize you were unwilling to go through his teasing prep- and in no possession of the patience needed for it. 

Gojo bit his lip slightly, being able to see the tenseness in your shoulders- it wasn’t about him having a good time anymore. No, your tone made it sound like he was depriving you of something.

Satoru wasted no more than a second in tucking the hem of his shirt between his pearly teeth- a smile on the corners of his lips as he watched you writhe. All but telling him to hurry with the puffs of frustration leaving your lips. 

Though his mouth was busy trying to hold his shirt up- his messied hand pulled from your cunt and landed on the band of his shorts, you could hear the muffled giggles of amusement leaving Gojo’s lips as he slapped the tip of his cock onto your ass. 

Leaky as he was, Gojo still wanted to hear the words from your lips. “Tellme-m’right” he spoke with clenched teeth- muffled and barely legible and in a smug tone. 

You scoffed- biting your lip and peaking up your eyebrows. Knowing Satoru is just petty enough to pull away from you and jack off till he spurt his mess onto your ass. “You were right.” you mumbled, earning Satoru to release the shirt from his teeth with a smile.

“What was that?” lightly tapping your entrance with his tip as your hands pressed onto the wall again- planted to stay upright. 

You sighed. “You were right, ‘toru-” you spoke clearly, earning an appeased hum from Satoru. 

Taking his hand from his base- quickly taking off his t-shirt and lining himself up with your cunt. The only thought in his mind was praising himself for what a good idea the machine’s placement was. 

The second he slowly pressed his tip past your entrance- both you and Gojo could feel the difference between when you would be prepped compared to now. 

Soft ringing in your ears as you let out a soft moan, a light sting pulsing in your cunt as he eased himself into you. 

And Gojo- he swore he could cum right then and there had it been up to him. His eyes threatened to fall back into a soft roll as a groan tried leaving his throat. Falling from his lips with the sound of a whimper laced in it.

Even if Satoru had slid inside of you countless times- it always made his go vision blurry. Never getting used to how warm and welcoming your cunt always felt against his cock. 

Satoru spouted a curse- mixed with a whimper as he held onto your ass, bracing himself as he felt your cunt suck him in. 

With clenched teeth- “S-so fuckin’ tight-” he gruffed- making sure to give you enough time to get used to the light sting before he pulled his cock from you. Hands gripping too harshly on the malleable skin of your ass. 

His cock felt a light breeze hit the skin lathered with your essence, wasting little time before thrusting back into you- setting a slow but deep pace. 

Shutting your eyes tight as Satoru’s thrusts caused your hips to move against the harsh plastic and the wall. 

A few more rolls of his hips were all you had to spare- “Satoru I’m gonna fall-” you huffed, feeling his hands grope at your ass firmly- some attempts to assure you that you wouldn’t. 

A light sheen of sweat formed on your thigh, causing you to actually start slipping with every little thrust Satoru rolled against you.

Though he was whining behind you, he could feel your hips start to give against the machine’s door. 

Gojo mustered all the strength he could, dragging his cock from you. Allowing his leaking tip to kiss your entrance ever so slightly as he gave a hard yank against your hips. 

Hearing a low grunt of relief as you felt yourself come loose-only for Satoru’s hands to move you to the free edge of the machine quickly, aligning himself up with your entrance again. 

Pressing his heaving chest against your back- bending you over as his head rested the crook of your neck. Clenching his teeth with a low whimper- your hands planted against the whirring machine- bracing for him to bottom out. 

Only Satoru planted a hand atop yours- grasping it lightly as he slid himself in slowly. 

A sharp exhale took the form of a whimper as it left Gojo’s lips, invading your ear as you raised yourself onto your tiptoes. Giving his cock a new angle, his flushed tip nudging your sweet spot. 

A choked moan left your lips, the hand on your ass rising to your neck. Pulling you back to his chest and forcing your back into a harsher arch. 

Satoru sped up his pace- barely pulling out and prodding the spongy gspot his cock curved into. Barely pulling his hips from your ass with frustrated whimpers leaving his lips. 

His hand mindlessly rising to the side of your face- your parted lips huffing out small whimpers welcoming his fingers. Hooking the digits that brought you to your first orgasm, onto the side of your mouth as he tried to keep a steady pace. 

You could feel he was still holding back- unknowing why he insisted on keeping a medium pace with his thrusts. You clenched your walls around him in the slightest- “F-faster ‘toru,” you huffed, slightly muffled from his fingers in your mouth- earning for his hips to halt and his hands to raise. 

Satoru gulped- his cheeks flushed and ears hot as his hands hooked onto the ditches of your elbows. Pulling your arms back in tandem with dragging his cock out.

Gojo knew that whenever you bark an order, you were giving him permission to do what every part of his brain was yelling at him to do. 

And as he felt the very tip of his cock reach the taut circle of your entrance- he clenched his teeth, inhaling before pushing himself in.

His thrusts were rough- too deep as your shoulder blades pressed against each other- clearer moans falling from your lips. Satoru’s forearms pulling you back with every harsh thrust- unpatterned and sloppy as he whined into your ear. 

Your calves started tingling from being raised on the tips of your toes. And almost as though Satoru heard you- he released one of your arms and reached down to your thigh. 

A smile took shape in a huff- “Up we go~” he grinned with a breathless tinge. 

Assisting you in resting it on the top of the machine, now easily at level with his rough hips. The foot on the ground barely touched the tile- half of your body on top of the machine as Satoru grabbed a handful of ass. Biting his lip as he looked down to your cunt linked with him. 

With every tenacious thrust Satoru rolled against you- he watched your ass bounce. 

And as though it was instinct, Gojo pulled his gripping hand from your ass and gave you a firm spank. 

You whimpered in response- shutting your eyes and muttering a strained, “Fffuck!” his hand soothing the warmth rising onto your bottom- clenching his teeth with muffled groans leaving his pursed lips. 

Your hands pressing onto the top of the machine as some sort of attempt to brace for Satoru’s quick drilling hips. Keeping yourself up on your forearms as his hand gripped the malleable skin of your ass. Groaning harsher and harsher as he felt his orgasm build in his tummy. 

Satoru knew you were close too- the moans you spewed were now shorter and more breathy. Your cunt twitching around him every other thrust- 

“Say m’right.” clenched teeth and a low tone as his thrusts became even more sloppy- bordering on raising himself from the ground from how harshly he was pushing you onto the machine. 

Gojo stopped his thrusts- nuzzling himself inside of you entirely. And staying still- knocking the air from your lungs with a gasp- “Say.” pulling his cock , “I’m.” a firm thrust, “Right.” urging you to with every deep thrust. 

You whimpered, knowing he was barely bumping his tip against your gspot on purpose. 

“You’re r-ri-” he continued his fast pace again- the words trying to make their way out of your lips. 

Satoru grunted with an amused smile- “I’m-” he sighed, “I’m what?” out of breath and edging himself.

You bit your lip, the knot in your stomach slowly slipping with every little thrust. 

Feeling his unforgiving hips nudge you closer and closer against the wall. Your jaw went slack-jawed as he refused to give you a second to answer. 

All it took was another firm spank to push you over an orgasm- cunt spasming around him as he grunted. Sudden tightness sucking him in with every pull he did. 

“You’re righ- fuck-” you moaned, “You’reright-” babbling as Satoru let out a breathy giggle. More than pleased with your mindless prattling. 

As Gojo succumbed to his own orgasm- you groaned lightly, feeling his seed coat your walls. Warmth filling your cunt as your eyes fluttered closed. 

Satoru rode himself down with slower thrusts, still reaching as deep as he could- but slowing them. 

Wincing softly as his tip got a shock of overstimulation, heavily breathing as he eased his hands from you. 

Leaning over your ass and placing his forehead onto the center of your shoulder blades. 

“Call the delivery men,” you breathed- sighing softly as Satoru rested himself atop you. “And tell them to move them.” you demanded- knowing that if they stayed the way they were now- more little instances like these would keep happening. 

Satoru huffed against your clothed spine. “You just said,” taking a breath and feeling his heart pound in his chest. “-that I was right?” keeping a teasing tone as you tried easing off the machine. 

Wondering how on earth Gojo managed to shift you from the floor to the top of the washer.

-

I luv him sm <3

[these-lovely-monsters]

Tentacles Under The Bed - Part 3

[NSFW | 18+]

Characters: gn!tentacle monster x f!reader

Content: tentacles, eldritch monster

A/N: Here is part 3 at last! It started to get a bit long so I decided to break it up into 2 parts. This one is just fluff (no smut), but don't worry, I am posting part 4 with more tentacle shenanigans at the same time so you won't have to wait!

Since it fits, I'm also tagging this for #10 Tentacles from @ozzgin's Monstertober 2024 prompt list

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆

The next morning you wake to the bright sunlight streaming through the open window of your bedroom. Blinking open groggy eyes, you stretch your sore muscles with a groan. You smile to yourself at the memories from last night as you admire the bright red circular marks that cover your skin. You realize then that the tentacle monster is no longer holding your hand.

Leaning over the side of your bed, you peer under it but there’s nothing there. You sigh in disappointment and get up to grab some clothes from your closet. Just as you finish pulling them on, a soft rustling sound comes from behind you and you turn in excitement.

To your delight, you see a few tentacles peeking out from under your bed, gently feeling around on the sheets as if looking for you.

���You came back!” You exclaim as you rush over to it.

“Of course, my sweet. I will never leave you,” its deep, cosmic voice echoes in your head. Before you have a chance to wonder at its statement, it continues, “Did you rest well?”

“Yeah.” A small smile pulls at the corners of your mouth, “Thank you.” Biting your lip, you tentatively ask, “Will…will you come out so I can see you?”

The monster is quiet for a beat before saying, “I do not want to scare you.”

How bad could it really be? 

“I won’t be afraid, I promise.”

“I am not like your kind or anything that lives in this dimension.”

This dimension? Now you’re really curious, but you decide to table those questions for later in favor of coaxing this monster out from under your bed.

“I know,” you say as you take a step forward. You’ve already jumped way past the line of sanity by letting it fuck you with its tentacles so you might as well dive into the deep end at this point. “But you’ve seen all of me and I want to see all of you in return.”

It doesn't say anything for several moments and you wait patiently. “Very well,” it finally replies.

You watch with bated breath as the tentacles begin to slide forward. Soon there are dozens spilling from beneath your bed, squirming and writhing as a massive shape begins to form. Within moments, the monster has fully emerged and is looming over you, nearly blocking out the light from the window.

You gape in awe at the creature before you. Amidst the sea of tentacles that writhe from every side, is an amorphous, dark mass. You can’t quite tell what it’s made of but it looks almost like goo. When you take a step closer to get a better look, you can see that the surface is not actually black, but rather a deep shade of dark purple. The color appears to shimmer in the daylight as it gently undulates under your gaze. You also notice that it’s slightly transparent since you can make out the faint outline of your desk behind it.

As you stare at the creature, trying to drink in all the details, the tentacles begin to shift along its body so that a blank space forms on the side that’s facing you. Without warning, dozens of eyes suddenly blink open in front of you and you yelp in surprise. When a wide slit appears below the eyes, revealing two rows of black, razor sharp teeth, your breath catches in your throat and you take a half step back.

The tentacles droop at your reaction. “See? I told you that you would not like what you saw.”

“No!” You hurry to explain, “I was just startled, that’s all.”

“I will change my form to better suit your liking.”

You watch in fascination as the tentacles begin to melt into the dark mass until they are all gone. The eyes and mouth close and disappear as well. Its body then begins to morph, rippling and shuttering as it reforms into a roughly humanoid shape. Amazingly, the surface also flickers as the color lightens to a soft pink.

Two of its eyes blink open again in the approximate location of where human eyes would be. Except that one of the eyes is a bit too low, looking as if it’s melting off. The mouth also reappears, much smaller this time, but still with the same deadly teeth. When the monster stretches its mouth wide in a gut-churning imitation of a smile, you grimace.

Now this is utterly terrifying.

Swallowing the bile that’s trying to climb up your throat, you manage to choke out, “No—no that’s ok. I like your normal form just fine.”

“Are you sure? Would this not make you more comfortable?”

“I’m sure,” you say with a pained smile. “You can change back.”

“Very well then.”

You sigh in relief when the monster quickly shifts back to its original shape. When it first appeared, you thought it was beautiful in its own way, with its shimmering surface and gorgeous dark purple color. But now, after seeing the monstrosity of its “humanoid” version, you find that you quite like its true form.

“Much better,” you say with a genuine smile this time. Your grin only widens when it wriggles in obvious pleasure at your words.

“Hey, what’s your name, by the way?” You ask, realizing you never actually had a proper introduction.

“I am called *garbled noises*”

Whatever name it just gave you is completely unintelligible to you. “Umm…sorry, what?”

It repeats the same unintelligible noises again and you wince, knowing it will be impossible for you to grasp, let alone repeat. “I uh—I don’t know if I can pronounce that. But the beginning kind of sounds like ‘Karl’. Would it be alright if I called you that?”

“You—you would give me a name?” It asks in a stunned tone.

Worried that you may have offended it, you try to backtrack a little, “I don’t have to! Only if you’re ok with it, I mean. I just—”

“I would be honored to be named you,” it interrupts you, its voice reverent.

Sighing in relief, you grin. “Ok then. It’s nice to meet you, Karl.”

“Kaaarrrlll,” it says, dragging out the sounds as if testing them out. “I shall be Karl from now on. Thank you very much for this gift, I will cherish it for eternity.”

Reaching out a tentacle towards you, Karl curls the end into a ball and holds it there. You stare down at it in confusion, blinking a few times. “What…what are you doing?”

“Is this not what humans do in greeting?” Karl replies, reaching down to grab your opposite arm with a tentacle. It wraps around your hand, manipulating it until your hand is in a fist. Then Karl lightly taps its balled up tentacle against your closed fist and says, “Sup, bro?”

You continue to stare in utter confusion for a moment until it dawns on you that Karl just tried to fist bump you and you burst out laughing.

“What is so amusing?” It asks in a mildly affronted voice. “I have seen many humans greet each other this way. The ones who throw around the big orange ball do this a lot.”

“That’s not…” you try to reply through wheezing gasps but you’re still laughing too hard. After a minute, you finally settle down and catch your breath. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just… that’s how friends might greet each other.”

“Are we not friends?”

“Well…” you hesitate. “We could be. But since we…Uh... Since we were intimate… That’s not how lovers would greet each other.” You manage to stumble through your explanation, hoping Karl understands what you’re trying to say.

“Are we…” it pauses, as if mulling over the word, “lovers?”

“I mean, I guess?” You hedge, not quite meaning for it to come out as a question.

“And how do lovers greet each other?”

Laughing awkwardly, you rub the back of your neck. “They…would kiss each other.” You can feel your cheeks flaming at the thought. This monster literally fucked you senseless twice and here you are, blushing like a school girl at the thought of kissing it.

“Kiss?”

Oh gods. Your cheeks manage to grow even hotter. Taking a step closer so that you’re only a few inches from Karl, you take a deep breath.

“Yeah, like this,” you say as you lean in and place a soft kiss on its now closed mouth.

Karl is quiet for a moment before demanding, “Do it again.”

⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

taglist: @blushycadaver @pearlofrose @gothicsugarslvt

[everyoneisalittlesadalittlehorny]

The first time you make out with him - because the first time you kissed him it was a soft chaste kiss, followed by a few kisses that were still very U rated. Even that had left you both giddy and shaking. So the first time you made out with him, you are desperate for more of him. You wrap your arms around his lean, muscular neck and pull him closer to you. You’re gasping for his mouth when he pulls away gently.

Before you wonder what is happening he pulls your top untucking it. His large hands on your hip is unexpectedly hot and it has you focusing on only his hands.

He caresses your waist as though your skin was precious silk and to him that’s what it feels like. Your breath is now hot and heavy. You want him to touch you. You can feel him moving to the front of your body, inching up from your waist.

You look into his eyes right then and he gives you the softest smile, mouthing ‘May I?’, you nod quickly in reply, unable to wait even a second longer.

His hand engulfs your breast, squeezing ever so gently. You’re thankful your undershirt is thin because he can feel your nipple harden underneath his fingers and he can flick it with his thumb.

You’re wriggling under him already when he bends down and licks your nipple over the clothing. You could go crazy. You were going crazy! He puts his mouth over your covered nipple and sucks on it. You are tugging on his hair, bucking, looking for more. He does the same to the other side till there are two lewd circular marks on your clothing.

He pulls away to admire his work when you plant your face on his and kiss him like there is no tomorrow. You’re pulling your top off, climbing on top of him when there is a sudden knock on the door.

Fuck. You both hold your breaths, hoping they leave but you realise your mates saw you go into your room.

‘Special training in two minutes, come to the main gate’ they shout and you can hear them leave.

You have two minutes, you think to yourself, before you peel off your top and get back to it.

[changbunnies]

Suit Dance (18+)

♡ Pairing: CEO!Changbin x Office Siren!Reader

♡ Genre: office au, smut, porn with some plot, rich & sexy ceo trope but make him Subby™

♡ Word Count: 7.8k

♡ Summary: In which you discover that your ever strong and stoic looking boss wears dainty, pretty lingerie underneath his tailored suits.

♡ Warnings: hyunjin featured briefly as reader's office bestie, mild play fighting and 1 joke about strangling him

♡ Smut Warnings: uneven power dynamics (due to boss x employee relationship), power play, dom/sub dynamics, sub!bin, dom!reader, vaguely plus size reader, semi-public sex, slight exhibitionism, marking (with lipstick), mommy kink, nipple play, anal plug use, referenced masturbation, spit kink, praise kink, finger sucking, fingering (m rec), tiny bit of oral (m rec) and handjob, spit as lube, teensy tiny bit of edging. this is so unrealistic lmao but it's fiction so. just take it for what it is gdfsgdf

♡ Notes: back at it again with a self indulgent bin fic! written purely because i saw these pics on twitter and was immediately struck with the vision of changbin wearing it instead lmao and while i read a lot of fics involving anal play, this is my first foray into writing it myself so sorry if it isn't the best :')

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Throwing your hands up and over your head, you let out a soft noise of relief as you stretch, eager to return home and relax after a stressful week at the office.

Your manager has been on your ass the entire week about making sure your quarterly finance report is without flaw. “Mr. Seo has business ventures lined up that require an accurate reflection of the company’s spending and receiving of funds,” she repeatedly drilled into you– as if that isn’t always the case.

You don’t know what all goes into striking a deal and fostering a successful business partnership, really– you’re just paid to reflect the numbers, so that’s what you do; and you’ve never submitted a flawed report. Still, while you’re used enough to staring at numbers on a screen and inputting them into a balance sheet, scanning them extra carefully all week has really put a strain on your eyes.

You remove your glasses, toss them next to your keyboard and close your eyes as another sigh passes your lips. You slouch in your chair, rolling away from your desk ever so slightly as your legs stretch out. You can’t wait to sink into a bath once you get back to your apartment, maybe have a glass of wine to unwind while watching some trashy reality tv over dinner.

“Uh– Y/N?” a voice calls, and you shoot up in your seat, stiffening your posture– you relax when your brain finishes registering that it’s just Hyunjin. If it was your manager, Mrs. Kim, she surely would’ve ripped you a new one for slouching at work, the strict harpy that she is. 

“Hey, sorry! Were you waiting up for me?” you ask as you scoot back over to your desk and grab your glasses to put back on. Hyunjin was one of the few coworkers you got along with beyond the expected professional level, so the two of you often chatted on your way out of the building. He was also Mr. Seo’s personal receptionist, and you envied that he got to stare at such perfection all day.

Mr. Seo is hot– really hot. All professionalism and sex appeal, with his perfectly styled dark hair and expertly tailored suits hugging his thick arms. You don’t cross paths with him as often as you'd like, stuck to your cubicle as you are, but God, the glimpse you got of him this morning was divine.

Dressed in a dark blue suit you were certain was designer, a circular silver pin stuck in the left lapel– the company’s logo, which he always wore proudly. He had on two chains– one a pretty, mixed gold-silver resting on his collarbones, probably worth more than you make in an entire year. His other chain is pure silver and long, hung low on his chest, ending just above the first button of his stupidly beautiful suit. 

There’s no button-up or other such dress shirt worn underneath the suit– just purely bare, tanned skin. The small glimpses you got of his bare chest nearly made you drool– and when he rounded the corner to get to his office, and you got a glimpse of his tight slacks hugging his thick thighs and ass, Christ, you don’t know how you managed to keep yourself together.

You loved looking at Mr. Seo, but it was probably best for your sanity, and your work performance, that you didn’t have too much exposure to him. And it was most certainly a good thing that you weren’t his receptionist– you don’t think you’d get through the myriad of phone answering and appointment scheduling successfully if you had such eye candy in front of you for hours a day, 5 days a week.

“No, I’m just supposed to tell you that Mr. Seo wants to see you,” Hyunjin says, and you blink– once, twice, brain struggling to process what you’ve been told. Mr. Seo wants to see you? You think you’re going to combust on the spot from just the thought alone of having a personal meeting with him.

“D-Do you know why?” you question with an embarrassing stutter that you hope Hyunjin will ignore. “Nope, he just asked me to let you know to see him before I leave for the weekend,” he replies and you swallow, nerves suddenly threatening to eat you alive.

And it's not just because you’ll be alone with someone you’ve been thirsting after for months. The most pressing issue is that even putting your attraction to Mr. Seo aside, he is still very much your boss, even if he doesn't often personally oversee your work.

You emailed him your report just moments ago, so surely he hasn’t had the chance to look through the whole thing yet.. Fuck, what if there’s a mistake right at the start? You’d be mortified– and surely it’d be grounds enough to fire you given how vital this report is to his upcoming business plans. 

Hyunjin sees the apprehension and can’t help but giggle as he reassures you. “Relax! He seemed like he was in a good mood, I’m sure it’s nothing bad. Trust me, I’ve seen Mr. Seo angry, and he’s definitely not right now. Maybe you’re finally getting that raise you’ve been gunning for.”

You appreciate Hyunjin’s positive input, but you doubt that– if it was a raise, you’d be having a discussion about it with HR and your manager, as you have every time before; someone as high brass as Mr. Seo simply doesn’t have the time to talk to every person receiving a raise individually. A promotion..? Same situation– the decision for you to receive one is his, but you doubted he would see you personally over it.

That’s what your manager is for, after all– Mrs. Kim is essentially his mouthpiece, having discussions about these things with you and overseeing your duties herself so that Mr. Seo can put more of his focus on keeping the business going in the direction he wants. Still, Hyunjin said he doesn’t seem to be upset, so.. 

Maybe it is something good! Maybe your manager and the head of HR have been called to his office too, and you’ll all discuss an appropriate reward for all the effort you’ve been putting in. Maybe you can squeeze in a deal for more vacation time too, if you’re lucky. 

"Or maybe he found out about all your dirty fantasies about him, and now he's calling you to his office to–” Hyunjin starts, and you bolt up from your chair, swiftly shutting him up with a smack to the arm. “Oh my god, stop! Shut up!” you cry as he simply laughs, swatting away the hand you slap him with.

“Should I still wait for you?” he asks when the giggling subsides, and you quickly shake your head as you turn back to your desk to start shoveling your belongings in your bag. “Nah, I don’t wanna keep you waiting if the talk goes on long. I’ll see you on Monday! ..hopefully,” you mutter the last word as you pick up your bag, still not entirely sold that this abrupt meeting is a positive one.

Hyunjin, being a menace to your nerves, shoots you a wink and a “good luck!” after you wish him a good weekend. You think you’ll strangle him when you see him on Monday– if you’re still lucky enough to have a job here, that is. You walk out of your cubicle block, swallowing as you step past your fellow coworkers who are all similarly readying to leave, and up to Mr. Seo’s large office door.

It’s glass, and typically he’d be able to see you apprehensively standing there waiting, but the blinds are currently pulled closed. Should you knock? He’s expecting you, but all of a sudden you aren’t sure how to act– the last thing you want to do is be impolite. Still, maybe it’d be worse to keep him waiting– his time is extremely valuable, after all. So tentatively, you knock on the black frame of the door.

“Come in,” you hear him call out, and with one more breath to steel your nerves, you take the knob into your hands and open the door. And fuck, he’s alone– your manager and the head of HR are nowhere in sight. You’re going to have a solo meeting with Mr. Seo. God, please help me, you cry internally as you take a careful step inside, the door closing behind you with a soft click. 

“You wanted to see me, Sir?” you do your best to keep your voice steady as you look at him, pensively standing no more than a few inches away from the door. You’ve never been more nervous in your entire life– and when he looks up from the papers on his desk to address you, your heart nearly stops; he’s just too gorgeous.

“Don’t just stay by the door, please, come in,” he reiterates, motioning for you to come further into the room and take a seat at his desk with his hand. Again you swallow, taking small steps away from the glass door, your heels clacking on the sleek wood with each step.

His office is so luxurious– and you’re certain it’s bigger than your entire apartment. Floor to ceiling windows that take up the entire wall behind him and show the impressive expanse of the city, the sky turning a darker shade of blue as the sun disappears behind the other skyscrapers. Impressive bookshelves full top to bottom, with not just books but awards he's won throughout his life, as well as decorative art pieces.

He has well cared for plants in every corner, two sofas for additional seating, and a chandelier that rivals any you’ve ever seen in its extravagance. There’s a large rug underneath his desk and the opposite chairs, and your heels quiet as you step on it, carefully pulling one of the chairs back to sit.

It’s comfortable, the same shade of rich mahogany as his desk, and you practically sink into it. Despite that, you do your best to keep a good posture after setting your bag on the opposite chair; sitting up straight, hands folded in your lap as you cross one leg over the other.

Your skirt squeezes against your thighs in this position, but you’d rather be caught dead than have an informal posture in front of the CEO of your company. He’s looking at his papers again, and heat, as well as apprehension, spreads through your body when he looks up at you once more– but mostly, it’s heat; how and why is he so attractive? 

You’re so rarely given the opportunity to be this close to Mr. Seo– and there’s still a large desk between you that gives you a fair amount of distance, but you’re able to drink him in much more than you usually can. His eyes, that normally appear quite piercing and stern, are always much softer up close– all of his features are soft, really. 

Round cheeks, soft nose, defined chin that somehow isn’t harsh in appearance despite how sculpted he is. His lips are so pink, look so soft and plush, in the prettiest pouty shape. Cute, handsome, pretty, sexy– he’s all of it in one package. You want him bad.

Mr. Seo has expensive-looking round earrings on that you realize you failed to notice earlier, perfectly matching his necklaces. A ring too, you note as he turns back to his papers to flip a page– gem black as his hair, but with the same silver as the rest of his jewelry encircling it. He’s so stylish– it’s almost enough to make you salivate with desire.

It’s almost astonishing how you can still thirst for him while this concerned over your livelihood– but he’s so undeniably handsome and perfect that you just can’t seem to help it. If this ends up being your last day here, you don’t think it’s the money you’ll miss the most– it’ll most definitely be seeing Mr. Seo in all his impressive glory.

Finally, he holds out the tiny, stapled stack of papers in his hand to you, gesturing for you to take them to look at. “Mrs. Kim went over this with you, correct? You recognize it?” he asks, watching you carefully as you run your eyes over the top page. “This is my review from last quarter..?” you say, an air of uncertainty in your voice. Fuck. You really are getting fired. 

“Did I make a mistake since then? Do something wrong?” you question, doing your best not to fall into your anxious habit of chewing on your bottom lip. It’s also taking everything in you not to start unloading a string of apologies over the finance report you emailed him, convinced by this point that you suffered a major performance dip and sent him a report chock full of mistakes. 

Even at his angriest, Mr. Seo never grilled or chewed out his employees– but you almost think the look of sincere disappointment he’d give you before firing you would be worse than the anger. “No, don't worry! The opposite, actually,” he reassures you, so sweetly and genuinely that it sends you reeling.

The relief that should come with realizing you aren't being fired or scolded doesn't even hit you, because all your brain latches on to is how beautiful his smile is. Negative or positive, you come to the conclusion that this will be the most difficult meeting of your life– he’s just too stunning; your poor heart can’t take it.

“I realized that a mistake was made in regards to your raise– you actually should’ve been given more. It is not my intent to undercut the value of my employees, and I sincerely apologize for the error,” Mr. Seo stands to bow to you, and the axis of your world tilts further off balance. Mr. Seo, the most successful man you’ve ever known, whose net worth is easily millions upon millions of won, is bowing to you? 

“Your work is always done diligently and accurately, and it keeps my business going smoothly– and to make up for the error, I’d also like to offer you a bonus on top of immediately rectifying your salary. A sum that is equal to what you would’ve received these past few months had your raise been accurately relayed and processed sooner.” 

Wait. Wait, wait, wait. It’s true that you were upset when your raise was only a few measly cents, but you assumed that was intentional, that you just needed to work harder– and surely, the mistake isn’t Mr. Seo’s fault. If anything, it’s definitely your harpy of a manager Mrs. Kim's doing– she should be the one groveling at your feet. The fact that he’s even apologizing to you for it is insane. In what world does it make sense for him to grovel to and appease you? 

You suppose it isn’t just his business smarts that make him such a good CEO, but his ability to take responsibility like this, and his genuine care for the members of his team. But that’s not even what’s at the forefront of your mind anymore– what has really captured your focus is the glimpse of pretty, white lace you see peeking out under his suit, deliciously hugging his pecs.

Surely this isn’t real– you must’ve fallen asleep at your desk, and are having a fever dream from the stress of the week. Surely Mr. Seo isn’t actually wearing lingerie underneath his suit, right? That would be crazy– not even in your wildest fantasies would you ever be met with such a sinfully delectable sight.

He doesn’t smooth out or adjust his suit nearly enough when he rises back up, and the edges of the intricate lace continue to peek out from behind his lapels. Your eyes stay transfixed on it, the urge to drool over Mr. Seo the strongest it’s ever been as every subsequent word he says goes straight through one ear and out the other. 

You lick over your drying lips, swallow thickly, unable to focus on anything but the entrancing visage of pure white lace squeezing his muscles. Your body was already running hot just from being in his presence, but now it feels like a furnace, mind racing as you consider how much more lace there is beneath his suit. 

How much skin does it cover? How little? And maybe if you were paying more attention to literally any part of him besides the lace on his pecs, you would’ve noticed the shiver that traveled through his body after he stood back up right, or the slight flush to his cheeks. 

He thinks you did notice from the way you stare at him, but then he realizes your gaze is focused solely on one specific place– his chest. Even without glancing down at himself, he realizes what caught your attention– it causes his cheeks to flush a deeper pink, an awkward cough leaving him as he finally rights his suit, and obscures the lace beneath it.

Lace out of sight, your trance is broken, and your eyes return to Mr. Seo’s face. You’ve never, absolutely never, seen him so red and timid. “Uh, I–” he starts, but for perhaps the first time in his professional life, he is left at an utter loss for words. “J-Just– pretend you didn’t see that, please,” he quickly mumbles a moment later as he returns to sitting in his chair, hoping you once again fail to notice the way he shivers when he’s sat. 

You’re both professionals– surely you can move on from this and go on as if nothing happened without making things around the office awkward. No, you think immediately– you know you’ll never be able to scrub the delectable image of lace over his toned, honeyed skin out of your brain; it’s already rooted itself much too deeply. 

Except when you watch his eyes widen before his brows furrow, you realize you accidentally said “no” audibly. “..No?” he questions, and you already know you’ve dug yourself into a hole; but you can’t take it back now that it’s been said, so you may as well commit. “I mean– it was very pretty, Sir. You’re very pretty. I don’t think I can forget about it.” 

He blinks, blush slowly crawling its way to his ears as the information soaks in. And though it’s certainly grounds for a swift and stern dismissal in ordinary circumstances, he entertains the compliment, workplace code of conduct be damned. “You think I’m pretty?” he questions, and it almost makes you laugh. Is water wet? Is the sky blue? Is grass green? Yes, he’s pretty!

“With all due respect, I thought that was obvious, Sir,” you answer, surprising even yourself with how forward a statement it is– never in a million years did you think you’d admit how attractive you think Mr. Seo is to his face. “Obvious that I’m pretty, or obvious that you think so?” he tilts his head as he asks, and smiles– one that is as shy as it is devastatingly charming. 

To see him smile at you in such a way sends a whirlwind of emotions through you, the most potent of them being desire. There’s an eager glint in his eyes, one that you’re sure you match– maybe even surpass. You’re self aware enough to realize your ogling of him when he walks in a room is noticeable– it wouldn’t surprise you if he’d been aware of it all this time.

And maybe, just maybe, he too has been waiting for an opportunity like this to present itself. Maybe he likes the way you stare at him with pure, unfiltered want. Maybe the tight blouses and skirts you wear make him crazy, always hugging your curves just right. Maybe his skin runs hot when he sees red lipstick stains lingering behind on your coffee mug, imagining that same mark covering every inch of his body.

He shouldn’t feel this way, he knows, he’s your boss for God’s sake– but he’s also only human; and he can’t keep resisting the call of you, the veritable siren in his office. How many more of those dark gazes of lust behind your thick, rectangular glasses is he supposed to be able to take? How many more times is he supposed to pretend he doesn’t notice the way you bite your lip as you look him over? 

Truthfully, it was an accident that you saw the lace decorating him beneath his suit– but he can’t find it within himself to complain about it. Unintentional though it certainly was, he finds himself eager to take this opportunity to pursue you. Reason and responsibility lost, he follows his deepest, most base desires– he wants to indulge your hunger for him, wants to let you consume him, body and soul. 

“Can’t both be true?” you ask as you toss the report he handed you aside and inch yourself closer to the desk, all sense of timidity within you evaporating now that he’s entertaining your blatant desire for him. “I think you’re well aware you’re pretty. I think you know you make everyone crazy,” you rest your elbows on the desk, leaning forward as you speak, “I think you know everyone wants you.”

You offer Mr. Seo your prettiest grin as you watch him swallow, his eyes traveling down to your blouse, where the top most buttons lie undone and offer him an enticing view of your cleavage. “A-And you– you want me?” he asks, slowly directing his gaze back up to your eyes; a question that is perhaps silly at this point, but that he wants the verbal confirmation of regardless.

“May I be forward, Sir?” you ask, gauging how deep his interest in you really runs, how honest you’re truly allowed to be about your desire. Your smile grows when he utters a rather meek yet eager “yes” in response. “I’ve always wanted you, from the very first moment I saw you,” you tell him candidly, “I want to kiss you, I want to touch you, and I want to see what other pretty things you have underneath your suit.”

“I-I see,” he says shakily, very nearly squirming in his seat from how intently you stare at him, the burning desire you have for him palpable. The tension is strong, and now it’s up to him to release it– with just a word, the dam holding you both back will break, the fervorous flood of lust all consuming; and despite how much he shouldn’t, it’s all he wants. 

“Kiss me, please,” his plea comes out in an airy lilt; conceding to his desires, he surrenders all of himself to the irresistible temptation. You rise from your chair, round the desk to approach him, and he watches in breathless anticipation. The few steps it takes to reach him feel so impossibly slow, and his heart feels like it’s thundering in his chest; he can even feel the sweat building on his brow as he waits for you to finally touch him after all this time. 

Placing your hand on the top of his chair, you push it, making him swivel to face you. His breath catches in his throat as he stares up at you, eyes swimming with need. Your fingertips just barely brush over the bit of bare chest peeking through the v-line of his lapels, but it’s enough to send goosebumps over his heated skin.

You hook your finger into his long, silver chain, tug on it just enough to urge him to lean up to meet you. He shivers as he shifts in his seat, has to suppress the whine that threatens to rise from his throat when your lips just barely touch his, a phantom of a feeling left behind. And make no mistake, you want him bad– but you don’t want to rush; you’ve wanted this for too long to do anything but relish in having him in your grasp.

When you return to him, you press your lips to the corner of his mouth instead of kissing him directly, leaving the prettiest trace of lipstick behind. And even despite the ardency he feels to have you, he makes no move to hurry you along; because when you finally kiss him, full and deep, it makes all the build up worth it– it’s true bliss, countless butterflies dancing in his stomach.

And truly, you intended to keep kissing him slowly– but now that you’ve felt his perfectly soft and full lips against your own, your restraint begins to evaporate. You wanted to take your time, to indulge in the sensation– but when you lick over his lips, and he eagerly allows you entrance into his mouth, you get the impression that he can’t hold himself back from his desires either. 

The kisses quickly grow messy, your hands urgently popping open the buttons of his suit. You’re trying to be careful to not rip the buttons off, knowing very well how expensive his clothes must be– but even if you did completely ruin it, he wouldn’t have found it within himself to care. He can buy a new suit, doesn’t give a shit about how much it’d cost– your lips and hands on him are far more important.

Buttons successfully undone, you push the suit off his shoulders, and he quickly pulls his arms out of the sleeves, freeing himself from the fabric. You pull away from the kiss, bring your hand to his face, trace your thumb over your lipstick lingering on his lips and further smear it over his skin. It’s a dark red, pretty mess, starkly contrasting the dainty elegance of white lace hugging his body below.

“You’re beautiful, Mr. Seo,” you breathe, utterly mesmerized by the sight of him. You trace your fingers over the scalloped edges of the lace on his chest, follow it down until it stops just above his stomach. It covers his arms as well, up to the edges of his deltoids. The bulk of muscle beneath looks so tantalizing– it’s positively mouth watering.

“Changbin,” he speaks up, and you look at him curiously, a slight smile playing on your lips. Of course, you know it's his name– it’d be astonishing if you didn’t know your boss’ full name; you’re just pleasantly surprised he wants to drop the formalities. “Call me Changbin, please– o-or Bin, or Binnie! I– I’d like that more.”

“Of course, Binnie,” you smile sweetly as you call his name, and though it’s such a simple indulgence, it makes his cock throb in his slacks. You can see it, hard and straining against the tight fabric– you’re positive it’s uncomfortable, thick as he seems to be. You run your fingers over his belt, tracing the buckle. He watches with labored breaths, trying not to squirm in his seat from the anticipation.

“What’s my name?” you suddenly ask him, and he says it in a question, brows slightly furrowing– do you think he doesn’t remember it? He pouts as he waits for you to speak again, and you giggle ever so slightly before you do. “Mhm, but what do you want it to be?” you ask and oh, fuck– you’re asking what title he wants to call you by, he realizes.

“A-Ahh, uhm–” Changbin hesitates, swallows the lump in his throat, face burning as you look him over expectantly. Fuck, everything about this situation is so unreal– but if he’s already come this far with you, why shouldn’t he allow himself further indulgences? Why not give in to what his deepest desires are?

“M-Mommy, you’re– you’re my mommy,” he finally forces the words out, face and ears positively on fire as he waits for your reaction. Oh, that’s what he likes? Your smile grows, and you sweetly caress his face, enjoying the feeling of heat radiating off his cheeks.

“Binnie needs his mommy to take care of him, doesn’t he?” your question makes him whine, nodding his head in a shameless, eager display. He’s so unbearably hot, his erection strains against his tight pants, his skin tingles as you trail your hand back down to his chest– he wants and wants and wants. Touch him everywhere, kiss him everywhere, talk to him sweetly as you go– he needs it.

Very little lipstick remains on your lips after all the kissing you’ve done, but the last traces of it end up on his neck, trailing downwards as you kiss and lick every inch of skin you come in contact with. You run your hands over his torso, squeezing him from the bulk of his arms to the soft edges of his waist, delighting in the soft, breathy whines and moans you pull from him. 

You return to his lips at the same time your fingers find his nipples, and he mewls into your mouth as he squirms, the sensation of your tugs and pinches through the lace almost overwhelming. No, it is overwhelming– but he likes it too much to ask you to do any different. And the more you play with his nipples, the squirmier he gets, his hands harshly gripping the armrest of his chair in an effort to ground himself. 

You fall to your knees, and he watches breathlessly as you press kisses over his pecs until you eventually reach one of his perked nipples. He keens when you take it in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it over the lace. He gasps when you suck on it, his nails trying their best to dig into the unyielding leather cushioning his armrest. 

“Does my Binnie like having his nipples played with like this?” you ask before you run your tongue over this other one. He whines, writhing in place as you resume pinching and tugging on the one that was just in your mouth, the lace now soaked with your saliva adding even more to the delicious friction. 

“L-Like it– like it so much, mama,” he finally answers in a shudder, voice squeaky and high pitched. He gasps when you graze your teeth over his nipple, head falling back and another loud moan drawing out of him when you gently bite it. He’s so sensitive, can’t stop himself from shivering and squirming under your diligent touch.

He moans again when you lean up to kiss him, your hand traveling down and down, until your hand reaches his belt again. “Will you take these off for me?” you ask, tugging ever so slightly on the buckle. You could do it yourself, of course, but you like the idea of watching him undress himself for you– and from the way he eagerly nods, you conclude that he likes the idea too. 

You smile at him before you rise back up to your feet and you take a step away from him, resting yourself comfortably against his desk while you wait for him to start. He glances at his door first– he knows it’s unlocked, but the blinds are drawn closed, at least; even if someone heard him, they hadn’t seen anything happening in the room. 

He looks at his windows next– tall and expansive, not a single curtain in sight; the view it affords him is normally well worth the lack of privacy curtains would provide, but when he considers how naked he’s about to be in front of them, it makes his heart race faster. But you’re so high up– surely, no one from the street will see anything.

And if someone from the skyscrapers sitting opposite of his building happens to see, well.. He supposes he’ll just have to hope they enjoy the show they’ll be receiving. Changbin rises from his chair, and with trembling hands he fumbles with his belt, doing his best to unbuckle it quickly. Once done, he proceeds with undoing the button of his slacks and pulling down the zipper. 

Given how tight his slacks are, they don’t fall down his legs just because the button has been undone and the zipper has been pulled down– he has to make a purposeful effort to remove them. He glances at you, notes how intently you watch him, ready and eager to see all of him– and that desire you harbor for him encourages him to go beyond the shyness that grips him. 

Pulling them down over the swell of his ass, the first sight you’re met with is more white lace, perfectly matching the top he still has on. Your heart feels like it’s positively going to burst from the view of his cock– short but impossibly thick, pressed down by dainty lace, leaking pre-cum and turning the otherwise pure white translucent.

Your breathing grows more labored just looking at it, and God, as if you weren’t already on the brink of drooling over him before– you absolutely need his cock in your mouth. But still, there’s more for you to see– so you sit patiently, swallowing as you wait for him to keep undressing himself for you. 

He has to bend over to pull his pants down his thighs, and his blush darkens when he notices you quite blatantly leaning to the side to look at his ass from his peripheral. There’s a glimpse of something shiny between his cheeks under the lace, and it makes you gasp with surprised delight. Changbin himself closes his eyes, trying not to let out a flustered whine when he realizes you’ve noticed it. 

A plug rests inside him, shiny steel with a pretty pink gem in the center in the shape of a heart. Has he had it inside all day? The thought makes you dizzy– and suddenly all the times he’d shivered after moving makes sense. “Gosh, wearing this to work– you’re so dirty Binnie,” you muse happily, and he whines, wishing for nothing more than to cover his face behind his hands. 

Though it’s obvious by this point that you like it, he’s hesitant to meet your gaze after stepping out of his slacks and standing back upright. But you can’t have that– so you grab his face, making him turn to you. “You’re so sexy, it’s unbelievable,” you tell him before you kiss him again, and he easily melts into it, nerves evaporating with your lips back on his.

Changbin can’t help being shy, but your desire for him makes it more bearable to push through– and the more you kiss him, the more floaty he feels. You reach behind, blindly and hastily shove everything off his desk before you turn him around, and guide him to sit on it. Neither of you pay any mind to the loud clatter the objects make hitting the floor, or of how mixed up any unstapled papers he had there will become– you’re much too absorbed in the feeling of one another.

You instruct him to lean back when you pull away from kissing him, and he listens in a heartbeat, tipping himself back on his desk. He props himself on his elbows, watches as you bring your hand to his cock, still contained by lace panties. He gasps when you squeeze it through the fabric, whines when you trail your fingers further down and press on the plug still nestled between his cheeks.

“What were you prepping for, hmm? Tell mommy about it,” you say, and again he squirms as he tries to speak, the blush on his face flaring. “I-I– Binnie was gonna–” he stumbles on his words, voice quivering, and he has to close his eyes to try to focus on getting what he wants to say out effectively. 

Waking up this morning feeling naughty, he knew he wanted to fuck himself– got himself ready bright and early, so that by the time he got home tonight he’d be nicely stretched and ready for his favorite dildo. He was going to suction it to the floor, ride it while he fisted his cock with one hand and tug on his nipples with the other, close his eyes and imagine it was someone else sweetly playing with him. 

The lingerie was to make him feel pretty– and looking at himself in the mirror before pulling his suit on, he really felt he was; he was giddy with the feeling of being sexy and cute simultaneously. He liked knowing it was there under his suit, liked feeling the lace against his skin, liked how much it contrasted the rest of his physique. 

He’s trying to tell you as much, knows even without seeing your face how expectantly you’re waiting to hear it– but he struggles embarrassingly, because he can feel your hand stroking his cock over his panties. All he can do with his eyes closed is focus on the sensation your hand grants him– so he opens his eyes again, forcing himself to keep eye contact with you as he speaks.

“A-Ahh– Binnie was gonna– gonna fuck himself,” he admits, trying not to whine from the way you pleasantly coo and smile at him. “Mommy can fuck you,” you tell him sweetly, and God, he feels like he could cum from the words alone. “Would you like that? Want my fingers to fill you up?” you ask, and he nods so fast it almost makes him dizzy.

“Yes! Please, please, fuck me, need it so bad, please–” he begs, and you coo at him as your fingers slip under his panties, once again finding the plug he has nestled inside. He lifts his legs, holds himself under the knees to make your task easier– and it’s effort on his muscles, but what has he spent so much time building them up for if not this? 

“You’re ready for me to take it out?” you ask, watching him carefully– he certainly seems eager enough, but you don’t want there to be any unpleasant surprises. “Ready, ‘m ready, do it please,” Changbin pleads, desperate to feel you inside– he wants it, needs it, more than he feels he can vocalize; but he’d certainly try his best if you asked him to. 

You kiss him sweetly, shove his lace panties to the side as much as you can manage too and swallow his whines as you slowly and carefully pull the plug out of his hole. You put it on his desk, but it rolls right off, hitting the floor with a dull thud– not that he cares about it right now; he’ll retrieve it later. All he can think about is how empty he feels now, but how deliciously your fingers will replace the feeling, and make him full again. 

He prepped himself well, was diligent in his use of lube– but you still want to get your fingers plenty wet and slick before you try to slide them in. He watches you bring two of your fingers to your mouth, utterly mesmerized by the way they disappear into your mouth, how shiny they are with your saliva when you pull them out. 

You spit on them too for good measure when you’re finished coating them, and he licks his lips as he stares at your fingers– again, he wants, wants, wants. You notice it, of course you do– the blatant yearning in his gaze, how he licks his parted lips once more, how he practically drools as he stares.

“Want to help me get them wet, sweet boy? Want them in your mouth?” you smile as you ask, amusedly tilting your head. “Or was it me spitting on them that you liked? Should I spit on you too?” “Both, please, want both,” he answers in a hurry, utterly shameless. “Is that so?” you ask with a grin that sends a shiver down the length of his spine.

“Open your mouth for me Binnie, show me your tongue,” you instruct, and he complies obediently, opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue for you. He moans when you spit on it, and again when you press your wet fingers into his mouth. He closes his lips around them, diligently swirls his tongue around your digits before he sucks.

He gags when you press them in further, the tips of your fingers brushing against the back of his throat. His eyes water, saliva pools in his mouth and dribbles down the corners, and it’s so utterly entrancing that you just have to praise him. “So good for me, Binnie’s such a good boy,” you coo, and he keens as he quickly nods his head, as if to say ‘I am! I’m a good boy for you!’

Changbin almost wants to whine when you slip your fingers out of his mouth, but then you slide your slicked fingers over his waiting hole, and all he can do is gasp and whimper. “Mommy’s gonna fuck you now,” you tell him, voice so saccharine it makes his head spin– he still can’t believe this is really happening, but he’s so happy that it is. 

He jolts when you easily slide two of your fingers inside, his cock twitching against the lace panties still holding it down. There’s very little resistance thanks to the plug that was in prior and how slick he and your fingers are, but you still take it slow, carefully watching him for discomfort. Ultimately, you sense none– all he feels his pleasure, licking over every inch of his body.

“Look at you, you take it so well,” you praise as you watch your fingers disappear into his hole, and he whines as he watches with you. He whimpers loud and pretty when you curl your fingers into his spot, his head falling back as he bites his lip. He’s trembling all over, he’s seeing stars behind his closed eyes, he can hardly breathe when you start to thrust your fingers expertly in and out.

“Feels good, Binnie?” you ask him, and God, it’s so hard to speak like this, but he does his best for you. “F-Feels so– so good, mama, Binnie feels so good,” he cries, jolting again when you spit on his hole, adding more to the wetness so you can easily add a third finger. His breath catches in his throat when it’s fully inside, his eyes rolling back as he gasps and moans.

Your eyes travel to his cock, twitching and throbbing where it lies neglected, pre-cum still steadily leaking from the tip. You stop moving your fingers for just a moment, sink to your knees and lick at his cock over the lace still containing it. “O-Oh, mommy– oh my God–” he gasps as he lifts his head back up to look at you. 

It’s such a dirty sight, and he can hardly handle the way you stare back at him through your glasses. His back bows off the desk when you start moving your fingers again, that moan that follows obscenely pornographic. He feels so hot, body trembling, thighs twitching– he’s already so, so close. “‘m gonna cum,” he whines his warning, his hands desperately grabbing at his desk as he feels his orgasm build deep in his stomach, “Please, can I? L-Let me cum, please mama–”

He whines when you stop, his impending orgasm ebbing away as you rise back to your feet. You grab his face, make him look at you before you resume the motion of your fingers– and when you squeeze his cheeks, he knows what to do. He opens his mouth for you, sticks out his tongue, obedient and eager. 

He moans when you spit on it, swallows it like the good boy he is and opens his mouth for more after. “You’re so dirty,” you comment, letting go of his face to slip your hand into his panties, and wrap your hand around his cock. You spit in his mouth once more, now fisting his cock to the same rhythm of your fingers thrusting inside and hitting his spot. 

His eyes roll back as he swallows it all, a steady stream of whimpers leaving as his toes curl. “Mommy, I-I’m–” he trembles, release so close he isn’t sure he can hold it back; he'll try if you tell him to, but– “cum, gonna– gonna cum, please, I can’t– mama, please–”

“Let go, sweet boy, cum for me,” you urge him, and he wants to thank you– but it hits him so hard, all he can do is cry. You can continue to stroke him through it, his cum releases in thick spurts, coating your hand and soiling his panties. You don’t stop until he starts to writhe from the oversensitivity, gently releasing his cock and sliding your fingers out of him as he lies breathless against the desk. 

His eyes are closed, heart racing as he lies limp, utterly exhausted from the intensity of his orgasm. You look to the floor, find the tissue box that previously rested on his desk and grab a few to clean your hand up with, as well as gently wipe away the cum that seeps out of his panties. 

Changbin smiles at you sheepishly when you wipe the sweat from his brow, and kisses you after you help him sit back up. “Are you thirsty?” you ask him, rounding the desk to retrieve your bag from your chair. You pull out a water bottle, and he accepts it graciously, thanking you after he takes a few big sips. You both giggle when he tries to stand, but quickly realizes he’s still wobbly in the legs, so you help him get dressed too.

He can't help but give you another shy smile as you help him smooth over suit, giggling happily when you kiss him afterwards. He knows he’s still fairly debauched– after all, his face is still impossibly flushed, his skin is still running hot, and there’s lipstick marks all over him that can’t easily be wiped off with a few tissues; but he likes it. 

He just hopes that no one made the decision to pull some over time– it’d save him a lot of embarrassment leaving the building if you’re the only two left. But speaking of leaving.. “Uhm– Y/N,” he calls you timidly just as you both finish re-tidying his office, and tilt your head as you hum in question, giving him your full attention. “Will you– will you have dinner with me?” he asks, the faded blush returning when you beam a smile at him.

“For business or pleasure?” you tease him, and he huffs as you giggle. “Pleasure,” he replies meekly, hoping you’ll come home with him after; he’ll return the favor then, do everything he possibly can to make you feel as good as you made him feel. “I’d love to, Changbin,” you tell him, giving him one more kiss before you link your hand in his; and he smiles at you before you leave the building together hand in hand, with the night still young and so much more fun still to be had.

network tags: @ksmutsociety

[tinyidle]

How I Play - KHJ

Summary: you always wondered how your boyfriend moved his fingers so well while playing the electric guitar. so one day you decide to bite the bullet and simply ask him. hours later, your response is a lot different than what you ever expected it to be.

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Characters/Pairing: hongjoong x fem reader

AU/Trope info: slice of life, established relationship

Genre: smut, pwp

Word Count: 600+ words

Warnings: katoptronophilia (mirror sex), slight humiliation, voyeurism, slight overstimulation, fingering, marking + fondling, orgasm-tasting (cum eating), dom!hongjoong, sub!reader

Rating: M for mature

A/N: fifth submission to @wonderlandnet, tagging @strayteezsimp

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the man chuckled before repeating your question back to you. "my baby is wondering how i move my fingers so swiftly on the guitar huh?"

hongjoong sat with his back against the bedframe, and you sat in his lap with your legs spread wide open, one leg over each of his. he's fully clothed while you're completely naked.

"yes, baby," you breathed, still processing how you got into the position from a single question, yet not complaining. "show me, please."

hongjoong smirked as his hands rested on the seat of your hips for the moment. "alright then. watch closely, okay love?" he instructed as his eyes never left yours through the full-length mirror on the wall.

he has an intense, concentrated look on his face as he runs his fingers up and down your slit. you just had to break eye contact to rest your head back against his shoulder and stare at the ceiling from the teasing sensation.

your boyfriend saw this and shook his head. "no, baby. look at the mirror." he gives your cunt a small slap, causing your body to jerk and your gaze to snap back to the mirror. hongjoong rubs over the spot that he just smacked, soothing the tingling feeling.

"there we go," he slightly praises as he moves his index and thumb down to spread you apart. he slowly replaces them with his middle finger, sliding it into your hole.

you let out a whimper and buck your hips up, but his other arm around your waist holds you still. "no. just sit still, pretty. this is a demonstration, remember? now watch closely."

you can see his middle finger sliding in and out of you through the mirror, glistening with your wetness. hongjoong moves his ring and pinky fingers up and down your slit, mimicking the movements of the chords on his guitar. he curls his middle finger to touch that spot inside of you that makes your eyes roll back.

"hongjoong," you moan, thighs quivering as you do. "oh my god-"

he moves his ring and pinky fingers up and down faster, adding his index to the mix. hongjoong's thumb starts pressing on your clit in a circular motion. the sight of your boyfriend fingering you the same way he plays the guitar is almost too much for you to handle, let alone the feeling of it.

"you wanna know how i play my guitar so well, love?" he slyly questions as his middle finger slowly pulls out to just his finger tip.

you turn around to look up at him, and he gives you a devilish grin.

"i practice."

his middle finger goes back inside of you while the rest of his fingers continue to mimic guitar chords, working together to rub and press on your clit. hongjoong is playing the most erotic melody and you're the instrument he's using.

the music he's making with your body is beautiful, and you start to feel your climax of both you and the 'song' building up. "joongiee, im gonna c-cum!" you warn him.

he smirks as his fingers focus on 'strumming' you. "i know, baby. i can tell. you're so wet that it's getting harder and harder for me to play. you're dripping so much." your slick is coating his fingers as he continues to play you, so it was safe to say he wasn't exaggerating.

and you weren't either when you were warning him about your orgasm. "please, joongie," you begged, your hips jerking into him more and more to reach it.

your boyfriend smirks before deciding to 'strum' his 'guitar' with all his fingers, pushing the ring and index into you before quickly thrusting up. "cum, sweetheart," he commanded lowly, his fingers working you to your immediate high.

you shook profusely, "yes yes, yes, YES!!" more of your essence came out of you, creating a small but visible pool of white around hongjoong's fingers.

he doesn't relent as his other arm moves from around your waist up to your chest. he gives your breasts some squeezes as he kisses and sucks your neck, leaving a trail of purple marks on their wake.

he continues his ministrations on you until you came down from your high. "there we go. good job, baby," he praises as he removes his fingers, with you whimpering rather pathetically at the loss. hongjoong then brings his fingers up to your lips. "open," he instructs as his fingers barely traces your swollen lips.

you open your mouth, and he shoves his two wet fingers inside. you suck and swirl your tongue around the phalanges, licking and sucking your juices off of them as if it was honey. your boyfriend is watching your mouth in the mirror with pure lust in his eyes.

when his fingers are clean, he pulls them out of your mouth with a pop. "that's how i play."

[nastyaromatherapy]

"All yours" (18+)

You're left home alone with your stepbrother Ethan.

Tried to make a dark fic for (this) request (sorry if it isnt dark enough😭)

pairing - perv!StepBrother!Ethan Landry x fem!reader

one shot length, 1.7k+ word fic

warnings: dub con, stepcest, corruption kink, I lowkey have a voice kink so ethan talks A LOT, slightly innocent reader

Your mom always told you to cover up around your stepbrother, Ethan. But you always asked her, "why?" He was your brother after all.

So, when your mom and stepdad were out for dinner, and your stepsister was at a study session, you naturally broke the rules. The house was hot- and your parents didn't let you blast the air conditioning.

You walked through the living room where Ethan watched tv wearing spandex, and a thin white tee without a bra. Instantaneous boner for Ethan. He covered it up with a decorative pillow.

"Your mom okay with you wearing that?" He asks you as you wander into the kitchen for a soda. "What does it matter?" You respond. "Care to join me?" He asks, patting the seat next to him on the sofa. You turn to see the tv, it was a horror film. You shook your head profusely.

"Come on, don't be lame," he said, throwing his head back, exposing his adam's apple. "I'll buy you pizza," he bargains. "Fine," you say, plopping your ass onto the cushion. He immediately smirks and slaps the opened can out of your hand, making it spill on the floor.

"Ethan!" You yelled, annoyed. When you bent down to grab the can he slapped your ass hard, probably making a mark. You shoot your head back, "Stop being a perv."

He chuckled to himself as you cleaned the mess, now squatting to prevent further pestering.

You sat with him on the couch and he turned on the movie. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you give in to his warm, brotherly touch.

Suddenly on screen there's a jump scare and you jump, accidently rubbing your forearm on his erect cock, making him groan. "Fuck, I'm sorry," you apologized. "You keep doing that!" He says annoyed through gritted teeth.

"What?" You ask confused. "You keep touching me there, like you want me to get hard." You were utterly bewildered. What was he talking about? "Ethan what the fuck are you-" "just shut the fuck up. You're a slut. Admit it."

Truth is you haven't touched him once. Well besides the part with a jump scare. He needed an excuse for him being hard.

"I have nothing to admit," you say. He bites his cheek, looking at the ceiling with an astonished look. "You're really just gonna say that? Okay so if I felt in between your legs right now," he started as he got closer to your ear. "You wouldn't be wet?"

You weren't before, but his words sent shivers down your spine causing you to pool into your spandex. "I won't," you chuckled out, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Uhuh," he sounded, fingers reaching for your dampening crotch.

"Ethan c'mon," you whined. "Let's just watch the movie." He shook his head. "Not till we find out if you're a liar or no." You pulled away from his clutch, which made it easy for him to push you onto your back. You sat up with your elbows, and as you got up you felt a sense of heat in your core.

You look down to see Ethan's fingers, teasing the cloth that covered your pussy. You whimper at his touch and quickly close your legs. You notice his mouth corners start to curl up. He knew you were wet, could feel through your bottoms. But he pretended as if he didn't know.

"'Kay, whatever, let's just watch the damn movie." You got back up into his arms as the movie continued to play. It seems everything just went back to normal.

After awhile, however, Ethan started grazing his fingers on your clit through the fabric of your spandex. You shivered a little when reunited with his touch. He held back a chuckle when he saw your cute reaction, biting your lip to keep composure.

His motions were put together and circular, definitely not accidental. Your breathing grows heavier and your chest heaves. He gets a good look at your perky nipples poking out of your tight tee.

You involuntarily inch your legs wider, giving him more access to your parts. You whimper when he presses down harder against your clit, and grab onto him a little tighter. He groans at your grip.

You start to grind against his hand, humping it, desperately needing more friction. You weren't even thinking, just mindlessly fucking your brother's hand.

Your juices and cum start to seep through your spandex, leaving slimy, sticky residue on your crotch area. When Ethan feels it on his fingers, he removes his hand, making you whine. "Not a slut, huh? As if you didn't just take your stepbrother's hand without hesitation." You look at him, ashamed of yourself, ashamed you'd let him touch you in that way.

"Not gonna answer? That's okay, it's better for bitches to shut up." He grabs you by your waist and pulls you onto his lap. He guides you by your hips on his sweat pant covered boner. "Ethan," you moaned out. "We shouldn't." You said, sounding hesitant. "Oh but we've come so far," he said, reaching under your shirt to grope your breasts which made you gasp. "Be a shame to just stop now."

You felt disgusted at your self, but he was right. He was so hard, and you were so wet. Why stop now?

"I wonder how many men have had the pleasure of being inside you," he inquired as he shut his eyes, just imagining. "J-just my boyfriend," you stuttered out. His eyes shot open. "You've only ever had sex with your boyfriend of 3 months?" You nodded. "And I didn't like it."

He chuckled, bucking his hips into yours. "Oh you're gonna love it with me." You shook your head. "Ethan we really can't, you're my brothe-" he slammed his lips onto yours, forcing your plush ones to meet his chapped, grabbing your head from behind. You restrained at first but in the end you gave in. He was pretty damn good at it.

He pulled away and slipped your top off, being quick to take a breast into his mouth. He looked up at you with dark eyes as he sucked on its bud, making your heat throb. You moaned and continued to grind on his length, hornier than ever. He massaged the lonely one in his hand as he continued to feast on your tit, groaning into it. "Ethan," you moaned out, twisting fingers in his hair.

He pulled off of your puffy nipple, "Fuck, on your knees baby." You got on your knees in front of him and his sweats and boxers dropped to his ankles. His cock sprung out, resting on his lower abdomen. He takes hold of the lower shaft, guiding it towards your mouth. "Ever suck a cock, baby?" You shook your head a no. "It's easy. Just take as much as you can and don't use your teeth." His teaching was painfully vague, but you were desperate to taste him anyways you might've just been a natural.

You opened for him, letting his head slip in. "Fuck," he panted out. You took in about a fourth of his length, tasting every vein and every muscle. God was he tasty. You slowly got the hang of it, being able to take a little more of him. Ethan had his head thrown back in ecstasy, groaning and whining.

He looked at you, and it was a sight. Hair messy, eyes wide and teary with fluttering eyelashes, and of course your tits were hanging out in full view. He went to grip the back of your head, becoming in control of your movements, but he didn't go to deep.

"What do you think our parents would think, hm?" He asked. You just didn't want to think about it. "Plastered on the ground for me so prettily," he says smirking. "Sucking off her brother's cock? God. Fuck," he says breathily, pulling out of your mouth. Your saliva dripped off of his throbbing length.

"Bet they're so proud," he teases, laying out on the couch and putting you on top of him, pulling off your spandex in the process. He reaches down for his cock, lining it up with your entrance. He teases around the sticky area, rubbing his tip all over your folds. "So wet," he whispers to himself.

"Ethan, please," you cry out, pussy aching. "Yeah? Want your brother to fuck you senseless?" He asks and you respond with a pleading nod.

He slides himself in your tight cunt. "Jesus christ," he groans, holding you in place by the hips as he thrusts up into you. Your legs shake and you moan high pitched and pathetically. "So fucking tight. Guess your boyfriend hasn't been stretching you out, huh?" He asks through gritted teeth, closing his eyes whenever he lets out a groan. "Whenever he fucks you again, he's not gonna find any pleasure in it cause i'm gonna leave you so loose," he says, gloating at his size.

"No, no one after this, just you," you whine as tears well in your eyes. "That so, baby? That works, we just gotta sneak better around our parents now. I'm gonna be fucking this pussy every fucking date night." Your walls clench around him, only making him go harder.

He lets go of you and you fall on top of him and whimper. "Fuck yourself on me baby, c'mon." You start riding him impatiently, needing desperately a release. He reaches for your jaw to pull you down into a hard kiss, teeth colliding. "Riding me so good- shit, yeah?" He says into the kiss. You moan into his mouth whenever your clit comes in contact with his groin, only adding more friction.

"You're mine now, yeah? Mine to use whenever I please?" He asks. "Mhm! Yes Ethan oh my god i'm yours," you scream out before you cum over his cock. A trickle of your warm cum coats his cock as you stop your movements in recovery. He gets a hold of your waist once more and thrusts a couple more times, just to get himself over the edge. With a final thrust he buries himself inside, thick cum painting your inner walls. The two of you lay together, huffing, covered in sweat. "All yours, Ethan." You whisper.

[unholybacon355]

Kinktober Day 15 - Lisa Manoban x M! Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

A/N: Sorry but here it's late and I'm very tired, so probably this is poorly written and gonna feel more rushed than usual. I promise edite it when I have time.

Also. ISTG This was scheduled and it is pure coincidence that today was Lisa's turn.

In fact it was a pretty good club, the best and most expensive you ever had been. Although money isn't a problem to you, this place still feels kinda expensive for what you're used to spending on a regular night, but so far the money has been totally worth it. 

In front of you there is a small circular stage with a pole dance pole in the middle, and color lights pointing directly to the center. The rest of the not so small private room was in complete darkness. You were sitting on a really comfortable chair looking directly at the pole, so the bright light prevented you from seeing the hooded figure that entered the room till they were near the stage.

When the hooded person stepped on the stage you were able to see a black boot high heel boot that covered up to her mid-calf, coming out of the big coat that was hiding they identity. Soon their steep lead them tho be standing between the pole and you, even with the lights you weren’t able to see their face. 

Suddenly music start to play coming from an undetermined point, filling the room with a sweet melody. That was the signal to start the show, so the figure finally took off the hood revealing the facial features of a woman on her late twenties. She was by any standard beautiful, and the make up just enhanced her natural beauty. When she discarded the big coat that was covering the rest of her you saw that her body was beautiful too.

The outfit was simple but it totally served its purpose. It was a two-piece suit that simulated an office outfit. The sleeveless top clung to the woman's curves, hugging her completely, highlighting them and also highlighting her breasts. Pressing them together to create the effect that her bust was more prominent than it really was. The top also showed off her marked abdomen. The shorts on the other hand barely covered from the waist to the beginning of her thighs, and from the front it gave the impression that half of her ass was visible. Fishnet stockings and the aforementioned boots completed the outfit.

After a few seconds of looking directly at you, the woman turned her back, revealing that the shorts did indeed only cover half of her plump buttocks. Raising her arms, she grabbed the pole, and immediately began to spin on the stage until she jumped into the air, using the pole as a pivot point.

The dancer was good at what she did, even you who didn't know much about the subject could see that. She moved gracefully, twisting her muscles to the beat of the music, while she spun non-stop, holding on to the pole. Now the melody had changed to something sexier to accompany the moment.

Her movements were impeccable. Controlled and precise, showing that she was a true professional. But maybe being this good was the only way to work in a club as exclusive as this one. Only the best of the best for the best clients, that was clear. And if you needed any further confirmation, the dancer was currently spinning on the stage with her legs completely open, constantly changing the hand that supported her weight.

After a few minutes of hypnotic dancing, the music changed again and the dancer landed, spinning down from the stage. Only a few meters separated her from you now, and it took her a couple of steps to cover them and stand directly in front of you. Without saying a word, she put her hand on your shoulder and began to sway to the rhythm of the new music. Soon she began to spin around you, getting closer and closer to your body.

Now you could better appreciate her beauty, which was truly stunning, but you could also see from a closer distance how delicious her curves were. It was when she passed in front of you that you were able to see how the tiny shorts hugged the flesh of her buttocks, and how they bounced lustfully with each step. Each sound of heels touching the ground was accompanied by a tremor in her ass and thighs. That drove you crazy while her perfume intoxicated your senses.

Taking you by surprise, the dancer took a few steps away from you and began to unbutton her top, which was soon discarded revealing her perky tits. Her breasts, now free from the embrace of the garment, bounced once before remaining firmly still, only rising and falling to the rhythm of her breathing. Two pasties covered her nipples, preventing you from seeing her tits in all their glory.

Then the dance began again. Now she touched her body as she danced in front of you, immersed in the light of the spotlights that had moved to accompany her. She turned and bent down, stretching her ass back, making her buttocks stick out more from her shorts. You wanted to reach out and touch the most perfect ass you had ever seen in your entire life, but you knew that was off limits. It had been made clear to you that you could only watch, the right to touch was above the amount that even someone like you could pay. Still the dancer could put her hands on you if she wanted to.

As if she was reading your thoughts, the girl spread her legs and leaned in ninety degrees, putting her ass as close to you as it had been all night. Grabbing the shorts by the waist she pulled them off in one swift movement, removing them in one go and ripping them in the process. The image that was revealed in front of you made your cock throb, protesting inside your pants for being touched.

A few inches from your face was her round, plump ass, covered only by stockings and a tiny thong that was lost between her buttocks. The garment was large enough to barely cover her anus and vagina from your view, but even so you were able to see the outer edge of her rear entrance. In front of you was a whole meal served and you were not allowed to take a bite.

But the torture didn't end there as now the girl sat on your lap, placing her ass crack directly on your clothed penis. It was obvious that she could feel your tip digging into her flesh despite the clothes, but like a true professional she didn't protest. Instead she began to move her ass rubbing against you, while grabbing her hair and lifting it up revealing her delicate neck to you.

Of course you wanted to kiss her neck, her shoulders, and the delicate but toned muscles of her back. Everything about this woman was perfectly delicious and drove you crazy, even how her tanned skin seemed to shine with pearls under the light of the colored spotlights.

You needed more from her but all you could get was the action of her ass on your crotch. Your cock protested and you struggled not to make any noise even though your state of arousal was evident. You could practically feel your tip pressing against her barely covered anus. Your balls ached and all you could think about was the woman you had dancing on your lap.

The controlled movements of her ass, the way her back pressed against your chest letting you see her tits firmly bounce, her perfume, the little kisses she gave you on the cheek. It all drove you crazy and quickly took its toll on you. Unable to hold back any longer you came in your boxers, staining them with your hot cum as you moaned and panted.

The dancer continued to move her ass in a circular motion over you, until she felt the wetness of your semen against her skin. You had come so much that even your pants were stained. She then stood up and gave herself a hard spanking so that you could see her ass shake for the last time. She then turned around and made the gesture of kissing her fingers, which she then delicately placed on your lips as if she were sharing a kiss with you.

With that, and having fulfilled her task, she simply took her coat and left, leaving you alone in the now dark room. With your pants stained by your own semen, panting without having been touched,  and thinking about how much money would be a reasonable sum to leave her as a tip.

[saphiccarma]

Can I request Agatha Harkness x reader first kiss? I just need fluff after the show

- Kiss me again

Relationships - Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary - You were nothing but a simple mortal girl, one who spent most of her time working in a tavern. Agatha Harkness was a woman who made continual visists.

Warnings: Touchy men

A/N: I hope I did this request justice and thank you so much for sending it!

You were a mortal girl, one who worked at a tavern against the will of your father and served those of men who worked in the fields all day and stared at you while you swirled behind the bar. You were used to the prying eyes of men, men who were far too nosy for their own good. What you were not used to, was the scrutinizing eyes of women - after all, they hardly entered the tavern, men overrunning it with their stench and loud belches.

But then, one day, a woman walked in. One with a blue cloak that drifted past her ankles and a hood pulled up, just barely leaving two brilliant blue eyes visible. She took a seat, slouching over the counter, and despite her messy posture she seemed perfectly in control. Cautiously, although you weren't sure why, you approached her. She gave off an air of dominance, one that radiated power. She regarded you with a look you couldn't place.

"What can I get you?" you asked softly, polishing a glass.

It took a moment for her to respond, and when she did, her voice was hoarse, "Whatever's cheapest."

You clenched your jaw at her dry, and rather unhelpful response, but still just grabbed a beer from the shelves, popping the top off and dropping it in front of her. She took it with a wide swing of her arm, throwing her head back and chugging it down. Averting your eyes away from her throat as she took big gulps, you made your loops around the circular table. It was routine, making loops and checking in on everyone so you get some extra coins.

As you were passing by a group of rowdy young men, covered in dirt and eyes glazed over with pride, you felt a hand on your ass. You squeaked, jerking away, and glaring at the man who did it. It was one of the boys, messy brown hair, and a confident smile that told you he had never worked for something in his life.

"Hands to yourself," you chided, albeit a bit used to it, but there was no real bite in your voice. You had experienced it before and it was nothing new, but that didn't mean you had to like it.

When you went to make you were serving a new customer, you felt the hand squeeze your ass again, and you flinched away. Shooting a sharp, reprimanding, look at him, you sighed and continued on. It happened a couple more times that night, and despite asking for him to stop, his buddies egged him on, encouraging the behavior. He reached out once more, his hand reaching for your ass, when slender fingers locked onto his wrist.

The woman, her cloak flowing down her shoulders, pinned his wrist to the counter.

"She asked you to stop." Her voice was silky smooth, one that drifted easily into your ears, yet held so much power. Trying to pull his hand away, the boy attempted to pull his hand away, scoffing slightly at the woman.

"Hey," you interjected softly, "Let him go, it's alright."

She eyed you briefly before her gaze locked onto the boy's, "It is not okay," she said firmly, the words a clear message, "And he's going to stop."

From your point of view, you didn't the woman's fingers digging into his skin, creating little crescent marks. You didn't notice the searing purple wisps that flicked beneath the counter, no one did. No one, aside from the boy and it wasn't like he would tell, noticed the dark purple glaze in her eyes. With a confident smirk, she swiveled around to face you, her eyes sparkling with pride.

"Thank you..?" you trailed off softly, letting her fill in the blank with her name.

"Call me Agatha sweetheart."

^_____________^

It wasn't the first time you saw Agatha. Throughout the years you saw her more and more, visiting occasionally, but never staying. She would come, get upset when men put their hands on you, and then give you a flirting remark before leaving.

As time went on, you saw her change, her personality going through so many stages. Some days she was violent, her words harsher, some days she was quiet, her words a mere whisper, and some days, your favorite days, she was soft. There was still her usual Agatha flare of confidence and seeming little care for other people, but she was sweeter, kinder. You loved it when she was like that when she visited.

It made little sparks shoot off in your stomach, a warm heat pooling there as you stared into her blue eyes, oh so mesmerized by them.

Her visits were unpredictable at best, so you never knew when you would see her, but when you did it made your day better. But she only ever visited you at the tavern, which made perfect sense, but sometimes you wished that you could know her outside of it.

You twirled a flower in your hand, the delicate stem fraying at your touch, and the yellow leaves swirling in the slight wind. Sitting underneath a tree, a book delicately placed on your lap with its pages held open by a twig, you admired nature. It was all so beautiful, with the butterflies that floated by every few minutes, and the birds that sung high in the sky. While a part of you loved the tavern, its dark walls and constant noise that blocked out your thoughts, you loved being outside. Soft footsteps crunched a twig behind you, and you whirled around, utterly shocked to see a familiar face standing there.

"Agatha," the words were a breathless whisper. You fixed your blouse, tidying it up subconsciously, and flattened out your hair of any bumps.

Agatha offered her signature smile, one filled with confidence, "Hey sweetheart." And there she was again with the pet names, the ones that never failed to make your heart melt inside of you and make your blood run hot. "Mind if I join you?" Despite her question, she didn't wait for answer, taking a seat next to you.

For a brief moment, a moment of peace, the two of you sat in silence. You not so subtly admired her and her perfect features. The way her skin was perfectly smooth, her soft looking lips, brown hair that fell in wonderful waves down her shoulders, and her blue eyes. Blue eyes that held so much emotion, so much expression.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh you know," Agatha shrugged, her tone teasing as she placed a hand above her breast, "Just visiting my favorite girl."

That sent  a fiery hot blush through your cheeks as you looked down, fiddling with the corner of your book. Silence blanketed the moment again, but this time it was more awkward, the air crackling with a tension of unsaid words. You felt Agatha shift closer, her hand finding your own that rested on the ground, and you hardly noticed how close she was until you felt her breath of your ear.

"What are you reading?" Her proximity sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You shrugged a bit, not bothering to read the title, "A story about love."

"Love?" Agatha hummed, pulling away a bit, "What about love?"

You risked a small glance at her to see her lips pulled into a soft, teasing, smile and her eyes sparkling in amusement. Huffing, you closed the book, placing it down next to you. Your free hands took to fidgeting in your lap.

"You're teasing me," you whined.

Agatha leaned closer again, her lips oh so close to yours, "Oh, am I?" Your breath caught in your throat.

"Agatha," you breathed, resisting the urge to pull her closer. Your eyes rested on her lips, the ones that were so soft looking and were so close to your own. The other woman chuckled when she caught sight of your gaze.

"See something you like?"

You barely had time to respond before her lips were on yours, soft and gentle. At least that's how it started out. When you made no attempt to pull away, because how could you when it felt so amazing, the kiss deepened, Agatha pressing further into you. You leaned back, allowing her to take control. She kissed you like she was teaching a lesson, but on what you weren't sure. The two of pulled apart all too soon, and a small, embarrassing, whine echoed from the back of your throat.

Agatha laughed, her finger tapped your lips, "Patience."

You pouted at her, lower lip jutting out, "I've had patience. I've wanted to do that forever." The fire in your stomach gently flared, it’s flames fueled by your emotions.

"Me too," she whispered, "Me too."

"Kiss me again," you pleaded, your eyes begging to feel her lips on yours once more.

And her lips met yours again in a tender touch, one that was slow before it slowly delved into passion, a fiery passion that would burn throughout the centuries.

[pedge-page]

Joel and Preggo Wife: Baby Talk with Sarah

- - - -

Joel's flexible schedule now owning his own company means he can spend way more time with Sarah. She's still so little, he can't stop taking pictures of her smiley face and fat body sat up in her high chair.

"How bout some lunch kiddo?"

She bounces up and down and slaps her fat wrists on the tabletop excitedly.

Joel scoops some spaghetti strands into her open mouth. He finds himself mimicking her little jaw chewing movements and parting his lips each new spoonful he puts in her mouth.

Sarah rubs her hand in circular motion under her chest.

"What you got sommthin on your chin?"

Joel wets a napkin with his tongue and dabs off the small specs of sauce from her cheeks and chin.

But she continues to rub her hand clockwise. "There's nothing there kid."

She does it again, pinching her fingers now and then rubbing a clockwise circle.

Joel drops the spoon and gets on his knee, patting her chest, cheeks, chin, any possible area that could have some invisible stain that's clearly bothering her.

"Where??" He asks curiously. He lightly grips her fat cheeks and tilts her head side to side, Inspecting closely for any food that might be lodged under all the rolls of fat in her neck.

She starts growling at him angrily, repeating the two motions.

"Don't you get attitudinal with me! There's nothing to wipe!"

You come inside to see Joel furiously wiping her face like there's a sharpie mark on a whiteboard.

Joel, why are you rubbing our baby's skin off."

"She keeps saying there's something here!" He aggressively smothers her whole face with the napkin, and her poor skin is starting to get a little braised from his constant rubbing.

They're both getting frustrated with one another, blown cheeks and scowling brows.

You look over to the half eaten bowl of spaghetti then back at Sarah. She desperately pinches her fingers together and then rubs circling motions again.

"WHERE!" Joel shouts, tossing the napkin down in frustration.

"No, oh my gosh," you laugh, taking the napkin off the floor. "She's signing for "more please"".

"She's--! She's what?"

You repeat the motion: your palm over your chest and draw it in a small clockwise circle "please" and then the pinching of your fingers to your thumbs pulling towards your center "more".

You give Sarah the spoon and plastic bowl and she takes it and feeds herself happily.

"She knows sign?" He asks, intrigued but alarmed. "Is she mute? Did we have a mute kid??"

"I mean she's still a baby so. Kind of now she's not capable of talking, honey. They teach sign at the day care--"

"We have a genius level intellect child!"

"No--it's just easier for kids to communicate through sign since they haven't developed speech--"

"Shh!" He holds his finger up to your lip dramatically as he fetches a pen and paper. "I'm writing down some math equations. I bet she can solve these..."

"Joel."

Sarah pushes her half eaten cold bowl away and starts shaking her head.

"Ooh what does that mean?"

"She's just shaking her head."

"Yeah and what's that mean in sign?"

"It just means no!"

-

A year later, she's piecing together words -- in her own way.

Joel has stopped trying to understand the babbling baby talk. "She doesn't really know anything yet. I thought she was gonna be smart."

"She IS smart. She's been talking this whole time!"

He shakes his head. "Its gibberish. The whole time she was saying nonsense."

You scold him but lean down to Sarah. "What did you and Daddy do today?"

She excitedly look up to you and says: "RaRa y Dada byebyes Spooooo go foe wok n haf babas. See peep peep peeps!  y Dada gif RaRa weedadas!!"

Joel chuckles as you nod and listen to each word she says. "There's no way you understood that--"

"Oh? Daddy took Sarah and Spoon in the car for a walk and got some water? And you saw chickens?? And daddy got you balloons???"

Sarah nods furiously, stomping her feet now that SOMEONE finally gets it.

His mouth is hanging open, visually buffering in his brain at how any of those words equated to the sentence you just strung together.

"Where MeeMee?" She asks curiously.

"You right here!" Joel exclaims (he's got the hang of this now).

"No. No RaRa, MeeMee!" She says, emphasizing the last phrase like its something obvious.

"Joel, MeeMee is Tommy," you clarify.

"HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THIS."

"OK listen:  RaRa is Sarah."

"But it's not."

"But it is because that's what she's decided. Peep: chicken. Spoooooo: Spoon. Babas: water."

"What is babas."

"Its water. You drink from a bubba mug so baba is water. Weedada: balloon."

"How does that make sense."

"I don't know. Took me a bit to figure out. No idea where she got that from. Byebyes: car. Wok: walk. And MeeMee is Tommy."

Joel stares at you with questionable concern, as you fix the little clips in her hair.

"Babe, I think you're spending too much time together."

You both look up at him together with puffy lips and go "nah uhhhh."

- - - -

Taglist

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop

[spidernuggets]

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

MINORS DNI

Warnings: NSFW, soft smut, sub!jason, praise kink, riding, blowjob, boob sucking

"Let me take care of you."

Jason came through the window of your shared room, tired and spread the scent of blood, gunpowder, and musk. He was already peeling off the heavy chest plate as he entered your room, his mood slightly lifting as he saw you in bed with your reading glasses on and his book in your hands.

He'd be lying if he said that seeing you in his shirt that hung loosely around your shoulders didn't turn him on right there, but he was just so exhausted. He doesn't think he could please you tonight, even though he said he would after all the dirty messages sent back and forth just a few hours ago.

You picked up his tired state just as he came in. You bookmarked his novel, placing it carefully on the bedside desk together with your glasses before quickly getting up and helping him remove his armour and tactical pants, his compressed shirt following suit.

"Sorry, ma. Last hour of patrol was a tough one," Jason grunts, rolling his shoulders back in circular motions, which you quickly noted.

You shushed him, telling him it was okay as you dug through your wardrobe, looking for a shirt and sweatpants for your boyfriend.

You threw a pair of dark grey sweats to Jason, looking for a shirt for him as he puts on the sweatpants.

"Don't need a shirt, babe. Just come to bed with me." He mumbles, cracking his neck, trying to feel some sort of relief.

Your eyebrows scrunch together in worry for him. They quickly rise as an idea pops into your head.

You walk over to Jason, who is already sitting in bed, leaning against the headboard, and blanket half draped across his legs.

"Want a massage, my love?" You asked innocently, wanting to help out your oh so tense man.

Jason always loves it when you call him that. Your love. Yours. That's right. He's yours. Jason has devoted his love and loyalty to you and only you. In Jason's eyes, you are the most beautiful, perfect woman he's ever seen. Even if you had curves or folds or scars or stretch marks or whatever you found a part of your body as an insecurity, he'd still see you like you are a beautiful sculputre, handcrafted by the most talented artist ever, or even carefully sculpted by God himself, and brought to life just for him. For Jason. For someone who has committed unforgivable things. Yet you're here, and you stay with him.

Jason sighs deeply, a weak yet encouraging smile stretching across his lips. "Sounds good, mama."

You smiled at his acceptance as you threw your leg over his thighs, straddling his waist. You place a soft kiss on his forhead before laying your hands on his broad shoulders, squeezing them as sighs and grunts escape Jason's lips.

"Feels good, baby," he was able to mutter. "'m sorry."

Your face displayed confusion. "I was supposed to be the one to take care of you," he says. You roll your eyes, smirking, knowing that he was referring to his previous texts.

"It can work both ways, lovely," you reply, your massage on his shoulder becoming more firm. Jason smile grew wider, leaning forward to place a kiss on your collarbone and his hands resting on your hips.

With every squeeze of his shoulders, your grip became firmer. And then boldly, you gently rolled your hips against his.

Jason sucked in a sharp breath. "And what do you think you're doing," Jason grunts.

You look at him innocently. "What do you mean? Just taking care of you, sweetheart," you say, grinding yourself against his semi-hard crotch again.

Jason tries his best to contain himself. "You're a god damn minx. You know that, yeah?"

You shrug a shoulder, a cheeky smirk growing on your lips. "You've said a couple of times here and there."

Jason scoffed as he pulled your hips closer to him, attaching your lips together with teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance.

Jason shuffled, trying to flip your current position, bht you held onto the headboard, keeping you in place.

"Didn't I say I was the one who was taking care of you tonight?" You said, sending a sharp stare into Jason's eyes. You lightly sigh, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, your moist lips dragging along his skin.

"You're exhausted. Let me take care of you. Please?" You whined, rolling your hips against him once more.

Jason mentally cursed at himself as he found you so fucking cute and hot at the same time. "I'm all yours, mama," he said, kissing your shoulder.

Your eyes shimmered in excitement, and Jason swore his heart melted.

Your hands roamed the bumps and curves of his abs that had different shapes and sizes of scars littered across his torso. You then placed wet kisses along his chest as you continued to grind against him, just for a little further teasing.

"Fuck- Y/n, please," you barely heard Jason whisper out.

You stopped what you were doing and kissed his lips. "What is it, love?"

"Please... Please just touch me already. Need- Ngh. Need to feel ya," Jason whined, bucking his hips up as you felt his cock was diamond hard.

You grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "So polite, hm, Jason?" You say, slipping your hands past his waistband, pulling his sweats down for his already leaking dick to pop out. You licked your lips at the sight.

"Just sit back and relax for me, alright, my love?" You remind him as Jason nods.

You move your hand to wrap around his cock, your thumb rubbing over the flowing tip, precum dripping down. Your hand starts to pump up and down on his dick as Jason throws his head back, stifling back his whimpers and moans, his grip tightening around your waist.

You pouted at him and stopped your movements. "Don't tell me you're trying to keep quiet, Jay. Let me hear you, yeah? Be good f'me," you encouraged him.

"Mm-ngh.. ye-yes, okay, ma," he whines. "Just... Just please move- fuck."

You kiss his nose. "My sweet, good boy," you whisper, earning another pathetic whine out of Jason. "Mama's gonna take such good care of you," you say, kissing your way down his chest, his abdomen, your lips grazing across his happy trail and finally gking up to where his red tip ached for contact.

You kissed the slit that leaked the milky seed as your hand went down to his balls, applying slight pressure, which made Jason's fingers that was tangled in your locks tug against them and his other hand that made creases in the sheets has its knuckles turn white.

Jason's sounds of desperate whimpers and whines are music to your ears. You finally wrap your lips around his length, your tongue swirling around the underside.

"F-fuck!" Jason cried out. "Mm.. good, that f-feels so good, baby."

You responded with a muffled hum as your cheeks were stuffed with his cock.

You felt it twitch in your mouth, and before Jason could reach his high, you pulled away from his length with a pop sound as Jason whined with a tear coming out of the corner of his eye from the loss of warmth around him.

You kneeled up, holding against the headboard for balance. Jason looked up at you with glassy, teary, and confused eyes.

"You're gonna be good for me again, yeah?" You question him, Jason nodding in response, willing to do anything for you.

You shifted yourself so that your sopping cunt was hovering directly above his tip, just begging for more of you.

"Please, please, I need you so bad," Jason groaned, trying to lift his hips up, and you couldn't help but giggle at his neediness.

"You'll get me, don't worry, baby," you say, letting yourself sink onto his throbbing cock, your nails digging into Jason's shoulders.

Sure you and Jason fucked multiple times before, but you still couldn't get use to how big he was every time he fucks you.

You laid your head on his shoulder, adjusting yourself to his size before pushing yourself up, and then down again, your body bobbing back and forth, the sounds of skin slapping echoing in the room.

"Shit, love-" You choked out. "So... So fucking big... you feel so so good. Ngh- My good boy."

As Jason is fully unable to form any words or sentences from his euphoric state, more tears slip from his eyes. You quickly notice, your hands rushing to his face, wiping them away with your thumb. You made sure to make eye contact with Jason as you put your thumb in your mouth, licking away his salty tears, which made Jason throw his head back, followed by a desperate moan.

"Every part of you just gotta taste so good, huh, pretty boy?" You taunt, enjoying seeing face scrunch up in pleasure and need.

As you ride him, you comb your fingers through his hair, a handful of locks in your hand as you tug it back to make him look up at you. You puff your chest out at him as Jason licks his lips.

"Want a taste, love?" You ask as Jason nods his head vigorously. You hum in response, kissing his forhead before pulling his head closer to your boobs, letting his mouth attach to one of them.

Jason's eye rolls to the back of his head, and his mouth is covered in his dribble as his hand massages your other breast. His tongue brushes over your nipple back and forth, making you moan in pleasure.

"Fuck, baby, I can’t- I just need to-" Jason stutters, his voice muffled as his mouth is currently occupied. His arm wraps around your back as he flips you two over. "Let me fuck you, please, mama. I can take care of ya," He begs, pleading eyes watching over you.

Your hand reaches up to caress his cheek as you nod. "Yeah.. Yeah, you can take care of me, my love," you assure him. Jason buries his head into your neck as he thrusts his hips into you, his tip reaching thay sweet spot that always made your back arch.

"Fuck, yes! Right there, Jay, oh god," you whine, nails dragging down his back, leaving streaks of red behind. "Feel- ngh, feel so good, m-my sweet boy."

Jason's spine shivers at the constant praise, his thrusts becoming deeper and faster. "Love y-you. I love you so much, Y/n. Fuckin' love you," Jason was finally able to grunt out, feeling his climax reach.

But for you, that's when you started seeing stars. It wasn't the first time Jason told you he loved you. But every time he did say it, it always had a special effect on you. For this time, his little daily confession had you cum before you could even process his words.

"Fuck!" Jason hisses. "Just a little longer, baby." He says, continuing to pump in and out of you.

"Nghh.. fuck- my love. Always so perfect. I love you too. My- oh! My perfect boy," you stutter. Jason's arms hold themselves tight around your body, your skin clamped together as his seed shoots out.

Jason continues to rude out his high as he deeply panted, leaving weak kisses on your shoulder. As Jason pulls out, he reaches for the cloth inside the bedside drawer and using the water from the cup you always leave on the desk to dampen it.

He silently cleans you up and lazily throws it onto the floor, saying he'll deal with it in the morning as he lays back down on your chest. Your fingers roam free through his tangled hair, whispering sweet nothings to him before the two of you fall asleep in each others embrace.

[brewed-pangolin]

Imagine what a menace Soap would be with these

Challenged Territory

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Fem Reader

18+ MDNI Explicit Smut, P in V, Soap getting all territorial over silly bruises, cue the Scottish bear

Synopsis: You play a round of rapid fire which ends with a quick session. But those bruises forming ignite the primal side of Soap and he takes it upon himself to mark you as his own

Okay. Call me crazy but I'm for damn sure Soap MacTavish puts play dates down on the calendar.

Just like date nights, movie nights, and camping weekends. Play dates are a must to keep the relationship fresh and full of vigor, especially when he's gone for extended periods of time.

And these little blasters are right up his alley.

But he'd want a fair fight, so expect to be taken to the range a few times to perfect that aim and steady your hand.

Once he's satisfied with your skill level, all hell breaks lose and he ain't holding back.

Your only indication that he's put the game into play will be your blaster on your bedside table. With him already staking out his perfect sniping position as you mentally prepare for the fire fight about to ensue.

And it always ends the same way. Both naked, breathless, and entangled on the living room floor as you tally up who got the most shots to the ass.

And those circular bruises growing on your flesh are nothing compared to the reddened handprint plastered on your left butt cheek.

--

"You can't count-, those slaps-, as hits, Soap," you muttered. A groggy whimper echoing off your tongue.

"Haud yer wheesht, lass. Beat ya by a solid 20. Easily"

"Pfft. 20's pushing it, trigger man."

"Doubt it. Cannae miss hittin' tha sweet ass a'yers."

You shoved your elbow into the center of his chest with a boisterous laugh, forcing a rumbling groan from his throat as he turned you onto your back and caged you beneath his muscular and gel tattered form.

"Ya wanna go 'nother round?" He asked with an excited growl. Eyes brimming in cerulean conquest as a curling smile formed on his kiss ravaged lips.

"Why? You clearly already beat me."

"Wasn't talkin' bout the game, bonnie," he purred lowly. His Scottish brogue thick as molasses as he pressed the bulbous tip of his cock against your wet and silken entrance.

"Feelin' a bit outdone by yer bruises. Need ta add some a'me own. Gotta-," he halted with a groan. Voice catching in his throat as he pushed between your folds and gradually pumped his hardened length into the welcoming walls of your cunt.

You rolled your eyes with a muffled moan, arching your back off the floor to assist in his entry as he glacially thrusted himself until fully seated.

"Johnny," you whimpered. Mouth open with a silent moan as your greedy walls clenched around him.

"I know, bonnie. Yer always so fuckin' tight fer me, aren't ya?" He growled as he encapsulated his mouth over your lips.

Devouring your moans before pulling away. Grabbing tightly at the flesh of your hips as he flared his chest and moved to sit on his haunches.

"Gonnae fuckin' wreck ya, lass."

The bellow that echoed in his brogue sent a spiraling shiver down your spine. Causing you to pulse around him as he hoisted your legs up and rest over his shoulders.

Clawing your nails along the floor for purchase as he pistoned his hips against your ass in a primal and aggressive thrust.

"Johnny!" You wailed, followed by a breathless gasp. Chest heaving, breasts bouncing as your body undulated with the waves of inertia from his forceful drives.

"Tha's it. Gonnae mark ya. Make ya mine. Make ya scream fer me."

Your body went into overdrive as he continually pistoned his cock into your aching cunt. Mind going nearly blank except for one thought that rolled around behind your eyes.

Soap saw those circular marks as a challenge, even if they were done so by his own hand. His need to mark you, claim you as his own pushed him into his primal state as he gripped with measured force into the supple flesh of your thighs.

And you loved it. The growls emanating from the caverns of his chest. The crazed yet loving glare in his eyes as he marked his territory with every throbbing plunge of his cock.

You'd carry those bruises with pride the next morning as you gazed at your figure in the mirror. The only change you'd make is the location. The bruises you loved. The rug burn, not so much.

Drabbles Masterlist

@deadbranch @sofasoap @punishmepunisher @d3athtr4psworld @glitterypirateduck @astraluminaaa @shotmrmiller @jynxmirage @obligatoryghoststare @mykneeshurt @simpingoverquestionablemen @thetrashpossum @ghosts-goldendoodle @designateddeadend @foxface013 @queen-ilmaree @haurasha @havoc973 @luismickydees @kkaaaagt

[torukmaktoskxawng]

Could you please do one where Ronal and Tonowari react to the reader or OC, which ever is more your thing, having lots of battle scars from the war in the first movie? 🧁❤️ I love your writing! It’s so awesome to read and I can’t wait for the next part of your Tonowari x Ronal x OC fanfic!

(Stunning, beautiful, elegant. Gifs by @stallislump )

Pairing: Ronal/Reader/Tonowari

Taglist: @mooniequeen

Warnings: non-gender specific reader, fluff, mentions of war, scars, heavily implied stuff (nsfw? idk, but I'd read this at work)

Na'vi Words: ikran - mountain banshee, olo'eyktan - male clan leader, tsahik - spiritual clan leader, kelku - house/home

A/N: This is short but sweet. I hope you like it! (Note: Stand alone! Not a part of the tsamsiyu ta'em series)

~~~~~~~~~

They had noticed your scars the first day they met you, a Na'vi flying in on an ikran alongside the gunship Jakesully had radioed in to help Young Kiri. They knew Sky People were coming, but they weren't expecting you.

The Metkayina have heard many stories about the clans that came together under Toruk Makto's leadership. Even from as far as the reef, the Na'vi heard about the war with the Sky People and the casualties left behind. Such war and casualties were shown on your skin, displayed like a story. Long, thin, cut-like marks ran up and down your legs and part of your torso, while small, circular scars riddled your right shoulder and chest. The skin that healed over your wounds was a pale blue compared to the rest of your skin and stripes. When Toruk Makto introduced you to the olo'eyktan and tsahik of the Metkayina, they couldn't take their eyes off of you.

Your style and the colors of your attire were not of Omatikaya. Tonowari and Ronal later learn that you were originally from the Tayrangi clan but stayed with the Omatikaya after the war. As they got to know you, they learned that your family members were great warriors but had tragically died in the battle of the Hallelujah Mountains. After their deaths, you saw no reason to return home with your clan and made a life for yourself in the forests with Toruk Makto's clan.

Considering you as an entrusted friend and ally, Jake had asked you to stay in Awa'atlu for a little while so he would feel more secure and able to protect his family. And while you stayed among the Metkayina, both Tonowari and Ronal grew closer to you and wished to learn more about you and your stories... specifically the story behind your scars.

Originally, you didn't feel inclined to share the story, simply stating that you earned your scars in the battle against the Sky People. However, as you grew closer to the Metkayina clan leaders, you began to let yourself be more open and vulnerable toward them, which is where you find yourself sitting with the pair, alone in their kelku. It was a late night and their children were out with the Sully children to show them the beauty of night fishing.

It was Tonowari who boldly reached his hand out and gently grazed a scar on your shoulder, his thumb tenderly pressing into the raised, circular mark. "Who did this to you?"

"The Sky People," you found yourself saying without hesitance, "I fell off my ikran and survived," you originally pointed to the long, thin scars you earned from falling and crashing, then you moved onto the rounded scars around your shoulder, "These scars are from their weapons made of metal. They call them guns and bullets. Any closer and they would have pierced my heart."

Neither of the clan leaders looked pleased by that statement, and Ronal took her husband's boldness a step further. The tsahik leaned down and placed a chaste kiss over a bullet-shaped scar that was located near your collar, her warm lips leaving behind a tingle underneath your skin when she pulled away.

The look she gave you sent your heart racing, her gaze heated and foggy as she stared at you through her lashes, "Thank the Great Mother that they didn't."

One thing led to another and you found yourself in the pair's undivided attention all throughout the night, together learning where each and every one of your scars were located on your body. While you weren't necessarily self-conscious about the scars (you were mostly proud and showed them off as proof that you survived and won a war), you had begun shying away from their touch whenever they got too close to any specific markings. But over time, throughout the night, you began to relax and feel safe, allowing the two Reef Na'vi to explore you in ways you've never felt before.

~~~~~~~~~

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS

[fshaechans]

bf! haechan x fem reader

tags: smut, nsfw

wc: 840

warnings: mean dom! haechan, sub! reader, jealousy, manhandling, possessiveness, breeding kink (?), overstimulation, creampie, unprotected sex, hickeys/marking (slightly/once), thigh riding, slightly choking… (lmk if i missed something)

•not proofread

•dni/dnr if it makes you uncomfy.

•reposting!!!!

-“Do you think I didn't see the way he looked at you? I bet you enjoyed getting attention from him”- haechan says as soon as the two of you get home after a long day with his friends.

-"What are you talking about? Mark? love, of course not, we were just talking”

-“I saw you laughing at his unfunny jokes, he touching you “accidentally”

-“Hyuck, forget about it, it was no big deal”

-“Can't help but get a little angry when i see him look and touch you like that”

Haechan takes you by the wrist, taking you to the bedroom, throwing you on the bed and locking the door.

-"What are you doing?" you ask, but already knowing where all this is going to end, you might not admit it, but you love when haechan shows his jealous side, because almost every time it ends up with him fucking you without pity and after that, ends up with cuddling in bed and lots of kisses.

-“I want you to come sit here on my lap, wearing just your bra and panties, do you hear me? “- He speaks as he positions himself at the head of the bed fully dressed.

You just obey, taking off your shirt and shorts, leaving only the pieces he asked for and finally sitting on his lap.

-“Good girl, I know you love to rub yourself on my dick like a whore, don't you?-Haechan says holding your waist tightly, while you do the friction with back and forth movements.

You let out a groan, his words are turning you on even more.

-“Hyuck, I need to feel you”

-"Seriously? what you need to feel, tell me loud and clear”

-“You”- you say low hiding in his neck, he picks you up grabbing your neck making you look at him.

-"Look at me, didn't you hear when i said to say it loud and clear?"- he holds your waist again, but this time pressing you so you can feel how hard he is under the jeans he's wearing.

-“And you think you deserve my dick inside you?”

You don't respond since your mind is so consumed with the sensation and can’t process anything, until you feel a slap on your ass, which snaps you out of that trance and makes you arch your back.

-“You better fucking answer me y/n” - he slaps your ass again, this time harder.

-“Hyuck, you know i'm yours, only yours, please fill me up-“

-“Say it again”- he demand.

-“I'm yours”

-“That's right,nobody is allowed to touch you like this except for me.”

He puts his fingers inside your panties, running his fingers through your opening and massaging your clit.

-“Looks like i don’t have to be inside you to make you cum, you are so wet for me. I'm gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard.”

He lifts you up for a moment to get you off his lap so he can unzip his pants and show off his hard cock.

-“Hmm, you are so big hyuck, oh my g-” you moan mid-sentence as you sit slowly on his cock, scratching your pussy out.

-“You can take it. Hands behind your back.”

Haechan gives you some strong thrusts while with one hand he plays with your right breast and puts the left one in his mouth, making circular movements with his tongue around your nipple.

-“Keep your eyes on me, see how I fuck you, only I can fuck you so well, he could never make you feel like this”

-“Haechan”- you moan loudly, looking like you're already close to reaching your climax, the thrusts getting deeper and faster, his words make you more and more aroused.

-“Louder. Let me hear you.” haechan speaks close to your ear, going down to your neck, kissing and leaving a slight hickey on your sensitive area.

-“F- haechan i'm so fucking close-“

-“Don’t hold back, cum for me, show me how much i make you feel good”

Your breathing starts to get a lot heavier than normal as you reach orgasm, but hyuck doesn't stop thrusting into you, which starts to overstimulate you.

-“Baby, too much!” you whimper from the overstimulation, making your thighs tremble and your body go weak, but hyuck catches you holding your waist.

After a few hard and deep thrusts, haechan comes inside you, making a mess and running some of his semen down your thighs, which he catches with his finger.

- "Open your mouth for me" you obey, cleaning and sucking his finger and tasting a little of his taste.

After both of you reach the limit, you fall over his body, which he hugs you, caressing your back and giving kisses on your face.

-“I love you so fucking much y/n. You're mine, and if i have to remind of that again, i will."

You nod and smile.

-“I love you, my sunshine”

-“Now let me take care of you, y/n”.