#don’t feel like you have to match the length!

[steddieas-shegoes]

matches my weird

for @steddielovemonth inspired by the quote "we are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love." - dr. seuss

rated t | 1069 words | no cw | tags: pre-relationship, steve has a crush on eddie, open ending but assume they're gonna kiss later

🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒

Steve knows it’s gross, which is why he never does it when someone else is around. He opens the jar of pickles and the jar of peanut butter.

He scoops out a spoonful of peanut butter because he’s not an animal. He would never risk pickle juice getting in the jar when so many people come over to his house and ransack his cabinets. God forbid Robin try to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and end up with the taste of pickle on it.

She hates pickles almost as much as she hates Vecna. Seriously.

He dips the pickle into the peanut butter and puts it up to his mouth to take a bite.

“What is happening right now?” Eddie’s voice is high pitched and Steve jumps, nearly dropping his snack.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asks. He can’t hide what he’s doing at this point, so he might as well embrace it.

“I left my jacket here last night, remember? I called and told you I would be by to get it before I went to work?”

Eddie is holding said jacket in his hands and looks…not as disgusted as he probably should be. He just looks surprised.

“Oh, right.” Steve does vaguely remember this phone call, but he was half asleep this morning when Eddie called. He can’t be blamed for forgetting.

“Are you putting peanut butter on your pickles?” Eddie asks as he steps closer.

“I obviously am,” Steve replies.

“Bread and butter?” Eddie clarifies.

Steve checks the jar to be sure. “Yeah.”

“You should try it with the dill ones.”

Steve blinks. “Huh?”

“The regular dill ones are really good in peanut butter. These ones are too, but the savory– Oh! And the sweet and sour ones! I ran out of peanut butter once and used chocolate syrup. Wasn’t as good, but got the job done,” Eddie explains as he walks over and takes a pickle from the jar to dip into the scoop of peanut butter.

“Um. What are you doing?”

“I’ve never known anyone else to do this! I did it when I was little and Wayne thought it was gross, but he always kept pickles and peanut butter in the house for me,” Eddie shrugs as he chews.

“This isn’t you just trying to make me feel like I’m not weird?” Steve doesn’t think someone would go to such lengths, especially not Eddie, but who knows.

“No. Who would do that?”

“I…dunno. I didn’t know anyone else did this. It’s kinda weird.”

“Yeah, have you met me?” Eddie laughs. “I’m a pretty weird guy. Wait until you see what I do to my hot chocolate.”

“What do you do?” Steve takes another bite.

“This is Wayne’s fault, but I usually make it with a mix of milk and cola.”

Steve makes a face, but immediately realizes that’s actually probably pretty good. He’s heard of people using cola in chocolate cake before, so why not make hot chocolate with cola?

“I should try that,” he says.

“Yeah, I can make it for you after work if you want. I only have a four hour shift today.”

“I can go get some hot chocolate packets from the store.”

“We don’t need packets if you have syrup,” Eddie says.

“I always have syrup. El and Dustin drink chocolate milk every time they’re here,” Steve sits back in his chair. “But is that really gonna make it sweet enough?”

“Trust me, Harrington.”

“I do.”

It’s a loaded sentence, and Steve recognizes almost immediately that it’s a bit heavy for a very simple discussion about hot chocolate. His face is warm as he reaches over to grab another pickle from the jar.

“So…I can be here around eight?” Eddie continues after a long pause.

“Yeah, man, sounds good.”

Eddie reaches over Steve to get another pickle from the jar. Steve holds his breath as their arms brush against each other. His heart stops for a moment.

“You know, Wayne always says I gotta find someone just as weird as me. I don’t think he meant this, but maybe it’s that simple.”

Steve blinks, staring ahead so he doesn’t do something stupid like stand up and kiss Eddie or pull him into his lap. Now’s not the time to explore the feelings he’s had simmering in his gut for months, not when Eddie has to go to work. They’ve got plans later, maybe he can be brave about it then.

“Anyways! See ya later, Steve.”

Eddie leaves. Steve waits until he hears his truck start up before he throws his head back and groans. He’s ridiculous.

The phone rings and he groans again. He’s almost positive he knows who it is, and her timing is always impeccable.

“Hello?”

“Steve. You have to hear what Keith just told a customer. We would have been fired it it was us,” Robin whispers into the phone.

“Are you calling me while Keith is next to you?”

“Obviously I am.”

Steve huffs a laugh. “What did he say?”

“He told them that if they wanted to watch kid movies as an adult, they should keep that to themselves,” Robin sounds half-crazed. “I promise it sounded more scathing when he said it. The customer left and said he’d never come back. But I always got the creeps from that guy anyway. You know the one who always asks if I turned 18 yet?”

“Gross. Hate that guy. Maybe he won’t come back,” Steve says as he closes the peanut butter jar. “Hey, you know how I have a crush on Eddie?”

“Duh,” Robin says, half-distracted.

“Think I’m gonna do something about it tonight.”

He’s met with silence.

“You there?”

“I’ve been trying to get you to do something about it for a month now. Why tonight?”

Steve looks at the jar of pickles and smiles. “Because our weird matches.”

“O…kayyyy. You’re probably right about that.” He hears Keith say something about getting off the phone. “I gotta go, but good luck with that tonight.”

“Thanks, Robs. Do you like pickles dipped in peanut butter?”

“That’s disgusting, Steve. Seriously.”

“Just checking.”

“Do you?” Robin asks, but Keith starts yelling about personal calls on the clock and she rushes to hang up the phone before he can answer.

Steve hangs up and leans his head back against the wall.

“He matches my weird,” Steve sighs, smiling to himself.

[antennaed-kenzy]

Red Rose

❀ Mikage Reo x gn!reader

❀ Warnings: fluff, established relationship, everyone is of age, not proofread

❀ Misc: Word count: 2.2k+ Stronger than ever. Series

❀ Red Roses are the flower of love and passion.

Red roses are gifted to loved ones, they symbolize passion and love, well that’s the broad meaning at least. Mikage Reo was standing and your door, an arrangement of red roses in his hand. Looking at his watch over and over checking the time for reassurance. He didn’t want to be too early but didn’t want to be late. Each had their own means for his reason that swarmed his brain.  

In the house he was looking at, you were ready– well almost all ready to leave. You were trying on jewelry that went with your floor-length red dress. You rummaged through your jewelry box till you found the piece you were looking for, a necklace with a real dried rose petal trapped in resin.

Outside still, Reo was at her door. He mustered up the courage to knock on her door. You put on your heels, rushing to your door as you struggled. Opening with a bouquet of red roses in his hand.  

“Here,” Reo held the bouquet between them, “I heard you liked red roses.” He tilted his head to the side so you could see, flashing a smile. 

“Oh, I don’t like red roses.” When Reo heard you say those words, his heart dropped to the floor, did he hear the person wrong then? “I love red roses!” You beamed, grabbing the flowers from his hand. His heart bounced back in place, and a sigh of relief left his mouth. “I love them so much. The symbolize behind them, is how they make you feel when they are gifted to a loved one.”

Taking the flowers in the house, leaving Reo at the wide open door. “Let me put these in a vase.” You looked through the kitchen cabinets, finding a vase to divide the flowers in. You found a few perfect vases, matching the color. You put some water in them, with the flowers next. Laying them on the counter to place elsewhere when you get back. 

Reo watched you walk back to him, a smile on your face. He saw the flowers on the kitchen counter, seeing how you took care of them. You taking care of the flowers, just as he wants to take care of you. 

“Ready to go?” Reo extended his arm out to you.

“Ready as ever,” With a big smile, you linked her arms around your dates. You let him guide you to his car. He let go of you, opening the door. Grabbing your hand he helped you in the passenger seat. 

He walked around, your eyes watching him as he took a seat on the driver's side of his expensive Rolls Royce. You had no clue where he was taking you, but you didn’t question him. If he wanted to keep it a secret, then you respected his wishes. As he said, “a special date with his special lady.”

Reo kept his hand on the steering wheel, though his eyes traveled to you. Seeing you look out the window, your eyes following the trees that pass by. The two of you did love each other, having been dating for a month today, but it still felt new. Reo had difficulties showing how much he did love you, not wanting to go overboard and you leave him.

They came to a spot in a parking lot with a bunch of cars that cost just as much as Reo’s. Getting out of the driver's seat, he walked to your side opening the door for you, his hand out to grab. You fixed your floor-length red dress, Reo holding your hand when you were done. Looking up at the name of the building, [e/c] eyes widened in shock seeing where they went. One of the best places to eat in Tokyo, along with it being on the expensive side as well. 

“You look a lot better than anyone else here,” Reo whispered to you, a smile from ear to ear as he looked you up and down. Hand in hand the two of you walked to the entrance of the restaurant. 

The hostess greeted them, making the two of you follow her to your seats. Reo pulled your chair before he sat in his own in front of you. Looking around at the interior design, you were amazed having seen nothing of the sort. Sure you had seen the outside plenty of time, always wondering if you could walk inside, and now here you were, with the man of your dreams. Where you were treated like a princess. 

Reo and {Y/n} were looking through the menus they were given when they sat at the table. Neither said a word as they looked for what they wanted to eat. The only words they spoke since they got their menus were the orders they put in when the waiter came around. 

It’s not like it was awkward– well it was a little awkward. The two just didn’t know what to say to each other. They didn’t go to the same college so they couldn’t talk about what they shared there, they both grew up very different so nothing to bond over in that aspect. Yet, people say opposites attract and they both have yet for that to click. 

One thing was for sure, even if they didn’t say it was much, the two of you did really love one another. After a while of waiting in silence, the waiter arrived with their drinks in hand. You ordered red wine while Reo got orange juice. 

“I didn’t know you drank?” Reo says, seeing you take a sip of the red wine. 

“Well, when you are surrounded by wine in your childhood, you want to try some in your adult years,” You responded, the wine glass leaving your lips as you set it down on the table one more. 

“Your mom drinks wine?” He asks, raising a brow. From the times he had met your mother, he had never once seen her as the person to drink wine. 

You nodded your head, Reo questioning the reality of how he sees your mother. “Yup, she is a wine taster. That’s a side job of hers.”

Reo interlocked his fingers, placing his chin on top of his hand. “Really, that seems like a cool job,” You had seemed to pique his interest.

“It’s ok. She comes home with wine something though, which isn’t bad. I’ve tried a few, and they aren’t bad.” You smile, taking another sip of the red wine. 

This simple conversation was the leeway for them to open up and talk about more things. Conversation from left to right, random topics they each shared an interest in, or about the colleges they attended, more about their childhood and how people from two different lives can come together. Bring up their interest, such as Reo wanting to win a world cup with his best friend Nagi who you meet a few times. Your interest in wanting to open up a bakery one day. 

Their college life was different, everyone loved Reo at his college, he had great grades and excelled above the rest. He was good at what he did, at any sport. You, on the other hand, weren’t the prettiest girl at your school, but everyone loved who you were. Your personality outstretched anything, you weren’t in the top five but a lot of people knew your name.

Two people on opposite ends of the stick, one as the rose, the other as the thorns.

The two ended up talking the rest of the night. Reo paid the bill and they sat for a few more minutes before they left, still talking as they walked out of the restaurant. Reo took you around the streets of Tokyo, the two of you talking. Now never running out of topics to spew on about. From their first time meeting at the park to even moments they went through as of now. 

The two lovebirds didn’t realize how far they had walked from the restaurant parking lot. The only reason they stopped walking was because of the heels you wore for the night, you had no idea you were going to walk with him this long, yet here you are being carried in his arms. 

Reo laid you in the passenger seat of his Rolls Royce. He made sure you were completing in his car before shutting the door. You didn’t have to move a muscle, just like the Roses sitting in their vases at your house. 

He dropped you off at your house, giving you one last kiss for the night as he won’t be able to see you tomorrow. You stared at the door for a while, Reo looking at you oblivious– oh. 

Your date got out of his driver's seat walking in front of the car to your side. Reo opened the door for you, his hand out to grab for leverage. Not letting go of your hand when you place it in his, he walks you to your apartment door. Opening the door for you. 

“I had a wonderful time with you, my love.”

You stand at the door, looking at your boyfriend. A smile on his cherry lips and his purple eyes spoke to your soul– to your heart that was calling out toward him. He was the sun, you were his red rose. You leaned toward the sun, and the sun welcomed you. You were the only flower in the plenty that needed the sun more than the rest, and he was there to lend you the light to grow. 

“Night, Reo,” You gave him a kiss on the top of his head. Closing the door behind you, a giddy smile stretched from ear to ear. 

He was yours, no one else. Mikage Reo, the richest man in Japan was in love with you. He is your sun, and you are the rose he wishes to keep safe. 

You slide down your door, taking off your heels, though you don’t get up yet. You think about today and everything the two of you talked about, how he carried you back to the car, how he walked you to the door even now. 

Looking up to the kitchen counter were the red roses in their respective vases. You were able to fit about 3 to 4 flowers in the vase from the 20 that was in the bouquet. You strip off your dress, changing into comfy pajamas that you threw on the couch for this specific moment. 

———

Reo was texting you at practice, he couldn’t– or he didn’t want to put his phone down. All his friends were teasing him about you. Asking how yesterday went, he couldn’t keep you a secret from anyone. His friends knew about you, his classmates knew about you, to make matters worse everyone wanted to see you in person and not through photos on his phone. 

You were at home, giggling at your phone when you saw a text from your boyfriend pop up. You legs up in the air kicking back and forth, twirling your hair in your fingers. You were a love-sick teenager and you never wanted this feeling to stop. 

Ring!

Your doorbell?

Getting up from the couch you walk to your door. You peeped through the peephole you didn’t see anyone outside. You crack open the door, looking from left to right no one was there. Facing down on your doorstep, there is was. 

‘Red roses?’ You bend down to grab the scatter of roses. They weren’t wrapped paper to keep them together, no they were scattered on the ground as if someone threw them. You see a message attached to one of the roses. 

“I plucked every thorn for you. I took off every imperfect petal for you. I would do it over and over again though. I don’t care if it hurt my hand or if it hurt my heart. For you, I would do it over and over again. For you to be happy, for you to display them and not be hurt by the thrones, to see the petals you don’t want to rip off. I did it all for you, my treasure.” – You’re boyfriend till the end, Reo <3

You didn’t know what to feel. Reo did this for you. He cherished you so much he took the hard task out of the way. Your eyes well, water dripping on the paper. You simply couldn't help but cry, though it wasn’t the sadness, but rather out of pure bliss for him.

Reo the man in your wildest dreams had given you your favorite flowers in the world. You felt blessed to have someone like him in your life, let alone him only wanting you in his life. Red Roses, the reason you loved red roses was cause you never thought someone could match the aspect of how they make you feel, yet here Reo is making you feel even better than the sight of the flower. 

He was the flower and you were his sun, looking down on him as he followed– or I guess you could be the flower, the sun looking down on what has grown. 

a/n: not going to live, I procrastinated the hell out of this one. It took so long. But I did it Yohoo!! No, but like seriously why did it take me so long

[lilacheavns]

dakota’s roommate haddy had dragged her along to some kick off party that a classmate told her about. since dakota had already been through so many kick off days she didn’t really feel the need to go but her friend insisted — she eventually agreed when the other female brought up the promise of picking up the drink tab for the night. she got a little dressed up, threw some makeup & hoops on and headed over. upon entering she ordered herself a beer and stood against the wall. her eyes hovered over the number of students in attendance, eventually falling upon a familiar face — nathan. her heartbeat quickened at the sight of him. her eyes moved to the person next to him, some girl she hadn’t seen before. dakota watched them for a little while, unable to rip her gaze away from them. she watched as he placed a kiss on her forehead, dakota’s body immediately jumping up from the wall in response. her face got hot, her eyes narrowed. what the fuck was he doing? seeing his arms hang around her neck just angered her more. that was her nathan. she took a overly large sip of her beer, practically chugging it down. she didn’t expect him to walk over to her and she quickly attempted to regain her cool if that was even possible. “what? not at all. something bothering you?” the truth was written all over her face and she was doing a horrible job at hiding it.

WHO: @rcmanhcliday.

WHERE: kickoff party.

HE COULD SENSE her fiery looks, everywhere he went. Dakota stared at him from the opposite side of the quad, and he stared back. Their whole routine had started becoming entertaining to him. He was sure he had started provoking her just for the thrill of it. The girl beside him had no idea, but it didn't really matter. During the whole party, he had bought her a beer, planted a kiss on her forehead, and put his arm around her shoulders - that was the perfect recipe to piss Dakota Campbell off. He took another sip of his beer before excusing himself and standing up, walking in her direction. "Something's bugging you or what?" he asked, knowing exactly what she was about to say.

[lilacheavns]

starter for @ohmylcve.

her bedroom feels like a fucking sauna. even though izzy has her blankets kicked off, the window open and a fan running she still feels like she’s melting. her skin feels sticky and uncomfortable, nose congested, throat both scratchy and sore from coughing all night. she felt so shitty that she had to call in sick to work and can’t imagine how that must make her look since it’s only her first week. seth is probably complaining about how unprofessional she is right this moment. a long sigh escapes from between her lips as she tries to get her brain to stop thinking about it. to stop thinking about him. brown hues slowly flutter closed and just as she’s about to fall under she hears a knock at the front door. her eyes pop back open, an annoyed groan coming from her as she assumes it’s one of her siblings stopping by to get something. maybe if she stays totally still and silent they’ll go away? they knock again. and again. so much for that idea. she peels herself from her bed, sock clad feet carrying her downstairs. she’s about to bare her teeth as she pulls the door open, eyes suddenly softening when she realizes who’s standing there. “seth? what are you doing here?”

[wildcxrds]

@emeraldxphoenix

Deep in the forest, the cold evening had fallen all around. Nocturnal fauna awakening to begin their day, with the rest tucking in to sleep. In a small clearing, to the naked eye it seemed empty. But to someone magically trained, they’d see Jacob set up in his campsite. There was a small circle of protective enchantments (in the form of pre-enchanted stones placed neatly in a circle around the clearing), light enough to keep humans and animals away and Jacob fully hidden in plain sight.

He’d walked for hours, six months in to this trip where he’d been backpacking through Europe, and although he’d made great progress in his travels, he honestly felt he’d made very little progress on his mental.

His mind had still been plagued with the news of his father’s death. To the point where Jacob felt as though he couldn’t function through the grief. Felt aimless. Directionless. Ironic to start a travel trip in that kind of state.

His mother worried, but she always worried. Despite that, she’d seen him off with well wishes and her usual ‘please be careful and make sure you check in..’ Jacob knew he could return home at any time if he needed, but he wasn’t ready to.

The evening was quiet, Jacob stoking the fire idly after finishing up a small meal and properly disposing of his garbage. His eyes watched the flames flicker, embers floating off, deep in thought. The questions swirled his mind over and over again.

What if I’d pushed mum to let me see dad more?

What if I’d spoken to him more kindly?

What if I convinced her not to let him leave?

What if…. What if—

Something pulled him out somehow from the torrent of his mind. Was it a noise? A presence? He wasn’t sure, but Jacob physically jerked and jumped up to his feet, looking around with wide, nervous eyes behind his thick framed glasses.

[endvresurvivor]

theme : winter famine event

location : west border wall, inside the qz

triggers : blood, violence mention

time was running out. while frankie’s calculations had been aligned for his benefit before & during his trip to the outside, as soon as he had scurried his way back into the quarantine zone, the odds stopped playing on his favor. he had encountered a group of four— no, six— raiders he hadn’t notice until it was too late; he knew the fatigue caused by the famine had taken a toll on him & yet, he kept doing what he was best at : his goddamn job. getting jumped on by a bunch of young idiots wasn’t stopping him.

after having crawled in through one of the underground passages, he leans against the fence, a wave of sudden pain making every nerve sting. so he was not only out of luck but out of adrenaline too. the stab wounds & every other scratch he didn’t know he had were making themselves known, just as the flashlights from the lookout posts start coming his way. fucking great. his senses are almost completely numbed that he barely notices the figure that approaches him out of the corner of his eye. once he does, he backs up, shaky hands raised in surrender. ❛ hey, hey, easy. listen— i can.. split the cargo with you if you don’t.. tell on me. ❜ holding a hand to his side, his fingers are coated in crimson & his vision turns blurry but he has to keep it together. ❛ please— what do you want? ❜

[tonycries]

TALKIN' BOOODY!

Synopsis. The one thing he won’t survive? Your ovuIation.

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

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, MARATHONS, cervíx kíssing, dúmbification, PÚSSYDRÚNK MEN, bréeding, creampíes, true form Sukuna, dp, talking you through it, jeaIous s (Sukuna), cúmplay, cúmming dry, use of powers, spítting, chokíng, matíng presses, p talking, p sIapping, reader ovuIates, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Love Machine.

Toji Fushiguro never thought he’d meet his match - he never thought he’d end up like this. 

Toned chest panting - heaving - in pathetic huffs and puffs, muscular thighs quivering with every second he folded you like a lawnchair into such a mean standing nelson. It’s all he can do to snarl out mere husked gurgles, “O-ovulation? Hah- five rounds n’ you still think she’s a match against me, doll?”

Lies. And both of you knew it.

The man himself can only watch through hooded eyes when you’re squirming your greedy hips back and forth for more more more- “But Toooji– when m’ovulating I really want a hah...a baby.” 

Oh.

Oh.

And Toji doesn’t know whether it’s your words or the mere sultry sound of your voice that makes his tall, powerful body shiver. 

“So what?” He’s spitting through clenched teeth, you yelp when Toji wastes no time jostling you into such a pliable position against his glissading abs. Big, beefy biceps flexing when he smears your thighs widely agape, “Then m’just gonna give ya a baby, ma.”

But fuck, is Toji cursing back his words the very moment his geysering divot slides past your spongy cervix and probes a deep indent right against the door to your womb. 

Because you feel so unfairly good - so scorching hot n’ melty all around him - that he can’t help but furrow his sweat-slicked brows and pump his hips vulgarly sloppier into yours. Faster. Harder. 

He oh-so-badly wants to cum. Needs to prove it.

But the way his feverish skin breaks out in another sweaty varnish, the way his overused cock twinges with overstimulation leave him wondering if he still can. Parting his mazing length past all the ribbony excess of seed from earlier tonight to milk himself fucking dry if he has to.

“Gonna b-be eating your words.” He’s seething cockily, heftily bloated tip blushing the exact same strawberry-pink shade as his pretty flush right now. “Swear m’gonna make ya- oh god.”

And whatever sentence rambling pussydrunkenly off of Toji’s filthy tongue never sees the light of day - because what he sees makes his throat tighten. 

Dipping down one fat thumb of his to circle the cream-topped peak of your sensitive clit, Toji pries apart your adhesive-like walls until he can take a long, hard look at the way your slippery entrance was swallowing every solid inch of him.

“Look at you.” He’s murmuring out, and your heart stutters at the primal adoration that laces his words. Round, padded fingertips pap! pap! papping! the edge of your throbbing clit until steady globs of cum from just before slip out of your needy entrance. “Got s-so much you’re overspilling n’ you still want more.”

You’re craning your head to look up at him, lashes fluttering following each of his vicious rams. “Can’t help it- I just feel so…”

You don’t have to talk - because your slobbering cunt does all of it for you.

A resounding squelch! ringing into your ears and all across Toji’s cottony mind in an utterly sensual manner. 

“Damn, girl-” you hear from above you. And he wastes no time slathering those bulky digits in a saccharine coating of all your sap, “-n’ I thought hngh- you were needy. Turns out this cute cunt is a fuckin’ diiirty girl.”

But, of course, who was Toji Fushiguro to not give you anything and everything you wanted? You were his girl, after all - and your eyes widen when those very same drippingly wet fingers are pushed between your sodden folds with a waterlogged fwop!

“S’this ‘nough for my ovulating girl?” Toji’s rolling his willowy eyes, hasty streaks of sweat running down the side of his face. “Speak up- ”

“Yes- fuck!” You’re clawing your nails down his firm forearms to rake red, red lines that match his puffed-up veins. Thumping hotly against your skin to the same ba-dump–! as the ones on his girthy shaft, grazing your clingy walls and molding them out generously to his size. “Need you to cum in m-me Toji– need it-”

Fuck- Toji’s knees weaken precariously at your words. Hollowed breaths coming out infinitely more strained, “Where- where do you want me?”

He thinks he’s going fucking insane. 

But of course, you’re showing it all off for him. Of course, you’re letting your index drag from the middle of your tummy to secure right where he was rummaging every nook and cranny of your insides. Just millimeters away from where the rotund bulge of his crownhead was pressing innocent pecks on your womb-

“Here.”

And when Toji cums he’s losing all strength - he’s out of control. “Fine- fine. But you’re takin’ every l-last drop- fuck! Everythin’ because you b-better make me a hngh- daddy all over again, doll.” 

Not even every ounce of superhuman strength from his heavenly restriction could keep him standing upright. Hunching over into your body, you feel like you’re being crushed- you are.

Gasping at the faint pop! of your poor joints once Toji’s letting himself droop languidly down onto his knees on the hardwood floor. Close. 

He’s burning so hot, and you eagerly inhale his sweet, cinnamony cologne. Laddered bumps of his abs meshing and melding into your back, his tightly clamped chin rests on the crook of your neck. 

“Mercy-” He’s muttering through clouded pants against your ear, vision flashing white behind his heavy lids. And the moment your gluey walls grip onto around his sensitive slit he thinks he sees heaven. Toji doesn’t think he’s had an orgasm like this in his entire life. “Mercy.”

You’re tangling up a few fingers to scrape along his scalp, parting Toji’s glossy black bangs - and you swear you hear his throat curdle, frantically biting down a hoarse whimper. 

Bulbous head bludgeoning into your forbidden spots and twitching up angrily, every sopping smack against your deepest depths only leave your mouth watering. 

You grind your hips down with a mewl, thighs aching to meet his strained cadence and draw out those tiny, sweltering hot spatters of milky cum. More. Where- 

But Toji’s eyes snap open- fuck! All it takes is one strong arm to hold your entire weight up easily when he darts down an urgent hand to curl dexterously around his hefty girth. Squeezing, tugging- “Fucking- cumming dry? Fuck-”

It can’t be.

Shit, it can’t be.

But a lazy few grazes of his sensitive cock inside your raw cunt helps him find…nothing. Not even a few wiry wisps of splattered seed. Furiously working his fingers up n’ down up n’ down your teary slit, trying to feel for another fresh lather of cum. For that familiar sloshing mess of buttery white- because Toji has never cum dry. Never. 

He’s swatting your puffed-up clit as if it was your fault all he could muster up was a singular dabbing bead of ivory. 

And as Toji watches that surprised glint in your eyes transform into something darker, something…filthier, he knows he can do nothing else but gulp. Chubby balls perking up with a mocking little twitch-

“M’not making it out a-alive, huh?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Ge-ge-genius

“And according to the agenda, we’ll be discuss- fuck-”

It didn’t matter if Nanami was working. It didn’t matter if he had some stupid meeting for tomorrow. 

No- right now the only thing that mattered was that, according to his tracker, his lovely wife was ovulating - and of course, Nanami had to be there as a good husband to…help.

“-discussing the- oh- my love.” You’re sure that you knock over much more than a few important papers when you’re eagerly straddling him at his cool office chair. Looking up at you through blond, curtained lashes, “Still needy, huh?”

The only answer he gets are your greedy hands rovering all over his unbuttoned front. Perking a thumb over one of his bubblegum pink nipples, squeezing ravenously at his toned abs. All the way down until you’re hooking a finger underneath the shirt garter around his muscular thigh to snap!

“Fuck- m’here- m’here, I promise.” He’s massaging all down your perfectly arched spine, planting a slow, lecherous drag of his leaky divot across your spongy cervix. Drawing a goopy line that makes you squirm, “You want some of this, don’t you?”

Nodding and nodding, “Yeah- s-sorry I just need it so hngh- bad right now, Kento.”

“Nothing to apologize for, darling. M’glad to know my girl is ovulating n’ healthy.” Nanami leans back, and you can practically feel the sleazy up and down of his seductive eyes. He’s tilting his head ever-so-slightly, “Why don’tcha use my fucking cock like a good little wife then, hm? Let Kento here get some work done while you haaah- take care of that pretty pussy like a big girl- s’that alright?”

Fuck- you’d take anything you could get at this point. You just needed him.

And Nanami wasn’t serious about looking over some useless documents while you shuffled your hips to milk his every inch. Truly, you were his first priority after all.

But when you gave into his little teases oh-so-easily and looked at him like that- well, how could a man say no?

It’s like you were trying to get him pussydrunk, your sappy folds extra sticky against his toned front. Letting out the cutest of whimpers every time the fleshy mounds of your ass hit his belt buckle with a loud plap! 

Fuck.

Fuck, why did he say that he had work to get done in the first place?

Because now Nanami’s left clutching a crinkled document in one hand, the other soothing down your back as you crane yourself over and give his bumpy Adam’s apple a thorough suck. 

“R-right- the proposal of this project has been m-moved-” He was rereading the same sentence over and over and over. Watching your gyrating motions, alternating between vulgarly deep strokes inside and swivelling grinds to scratch your plump clit against his neat tufts of tawny blond. “...has been moved a-according to the ngh-”

“It- it feels so goood-” Your breath hitches with every cry, every thick drag of his pre-topped mushroom tip plundering your sweetest orifices. Nanami didn’t even have to try with that right-leaning curve of his, every battering bounce had you seeing stars. “-you f-feel so hngh- good, Ken. Wan’ you inside forever.”

Eyes widening a mere sultry fraction, his voice is so breathy. “Fuck.” 

“Focus on your work. You’re smart, baby–” You knew what you were doing - you were always such a minx during ovulation.

“Mhm, not like I’ve got a hngh- distraction.” A very welcome distraction that was currently toying with his haphazard tie, tugging and pulling until Nanami felt lightheaded with just how close he was to you. “A real pretty…” Curving up a thumb to swab up your sappy streaks of slick, it makes your pussy let out the nastiest squelch! “-real loud distraction.”

But, of course, that wasn’t going to stop you.

No. In fact, it’s as if your cadence gets even impossibly sloppier - a hard, fast papping of your hips that makes Nanami’s brows furrow.

“-and the client has r-requested that-” He’s hissing, a snarling smile ever-growing on his hips when your gluey walls cling onto him even tighter the moment he manages to get enough coherent syllables out. “-that we halt-”

A pen that’d been clutched in his hand - when had he even picked that up? - clatters onto the floor when you rake your hands to brush his aching, plump balls. But he barely even hears the commotion over those ringing slurps slurred out of your sloppy cunt.

“F-feeling handsy today, aren’t we?” He was tutting such nonsense at this point, glassy eyes trailing away from that important document in his hands and instead watching the heavenly sight that was you.

You, with your mouth spilling with whines upon whines every time he’s jerking his hips up in a rough ram. Such voluminous piles of buttery pre swashing around your insides forcing Nanami’s words to end up nothing but a ball of lead in his throat.

You’re noting the way his recitation has quieted down, doughy pads of your fingers still massaging where he was most sensitive. Humming, “S’everything alright- hck! Kento?”

And before you can say a word - before you can even blink - those particular meeting notes of his are thrown about halfway across Nanami’s decadent office.

Hands flying to you - everywhere, anywhere. Wrenching off Nanami’s speckled tie to loop them around your wrists and behind your back - tying you. Trapping you as he finishes off a knot.

Such a crazed look smeared all over his face when he’s lacing his now-free hands on top of the sweat-dampened crown of your head and pushing. 

Because you might have been driving him crazy with that depraved, rolling cadence of yours - but when Nanami fucked, he fucked mean. Holding down by your restrained arms to to warm his girthy cock, massaging his ridged veins along your resinous channel with a harsh thrust.

And yet it’s the perfect angle for a direct jackhammer into that magical area of your g-spot. He holds you captive until you’re being bruised with the perfect circular sphere of his inflated tip, until you can only throw your head back and cum.

You’re shuddering, “Cumming- ngh! M’cumming, Ken–” The sparks of white and red behind your shuttered lids are blissful, it’s like you’re crashing right into heaven.

“You got it, you got it-” Nanami’s bouncing his powerful knees to fuck you through your high, dragging his tight, cum-filled balls along the perk of your ass. He’s so large, letting you use him as you pleased. “Your Kento’s here, m’here so hah- gimme a kiss, please?”

Ever the gentleman.

It’s on autopilot when you do - you can’t even control the way your maw falls parted to make it such a slobbery mess. But your husband was far from complaining - “Good- good. Now spit in my mouth.”

“Fuck-” You’re whining, letting loose a viscous mess of spittle that targets Nanami’s pink tastebuds. Back arching when the very moment it meets his tongue makes his leaky divot burst with fat wads of cum. “-s-so full.”

That was an understatement - Nanami’s ribbony streams of seed were filling you up to the brim. He’s holding you still like his own personal toy, letting his staggering volume of cum stream from between your soppy pussylips to ruin his crisp office pants. 

Such round globs of pearly white that only make his smile grow even more feral. Guiding you at a lazy pace up and down up and down his throbbing cock to milk out every ounce.

He lets off a low whistle, “M’missing work tomorrow, huh?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - FRENCH TIPS

“S-Sugu-”

“Settle down, gorgeous.” Geto’s voice is silken-smooth, tinged with something so sexily husky that makes your fatigued thighs clamp even tighter around his pretty wrist. Trembling as he talks you through yet another orgasm tonight, “If you wanna talk out of this cute cunt here then you better let her fucking talk.”

And the only thing meaner than his words was the way that his doughy fingertips were prying apart your folds, circling the very edge of your slick-flooded entrance oh-so-lazily. Teasing. “Isn’t that right, pretty girl?”

Fuck- and he knows expertly how to get your sloppy pussy talking just as much as he was right about now. Pulling slobbery slurp! after slurp! that rings across his ears and makes them burn bright red at the fleshy tips.

Cooing away, and if you tilted your head just right you could catch the way that his tender palm was just gleaming with a syrupy lather of your juices. “Mhmmm– You’re the special girl tonight, s’like you’re in fucking heat. ”

You whine, “No–”

And Geto loved that. 

Loved how cute you were when he was mean. Loved splurging out his vicious digits from your hot core to drag his sloppy pink lips down till he was nudging against his mountainous knuckles. 

Sucking every ounce and sappy wad coating his fingers while staring deeply into your eyes. “‘Course you are. S’like a damn waterpark f’me when yer ovulating. Almost makes me wanna finally give you my cock. Almost.”

Almost.

And right now your melty mind couldn’t even fathom the possibility of not having Geto’s achy cock inside you right now. You needed him.

Desperately, your hips perk upwards to bump the fleshy mounds of your ass against his swollen girth. Glissading your skin across his sweltering hot length, yearning to feel the bumpy nudge of his veins. His plump, rotund crown-

“Tch- being teased turns you right now, huh? Or s’this pussy just filthy?” He’s letting off a chuckle, one palm covering your maw to block your saccharine sweet noises - because just the mere sound of your voice was making him twitch. 

He’s leaning in so dangerously close that you could practically read the filthy, filthy intentions in his hooded eyes. Drinking in the flowery whiff of his shampoo, “If you’re so impatient, maybe I shouldn’t give you my c-”

Geto doesn’t get to finish his sentence. Exactly as he’d expected. 

Exactly as he’d wanted. Oh, he loved it when you’d push him down and take exactly what you wanted, no matter how much he denied.

In only mere split-seconds, you’re flipping your positions over to splay him out like such a slut on the cottony sheets. Ass hitting his sharp hip-bones with a resonating pap! when you easily and pliably sink his curved cockhead past your teary slit. 

Inch by solid inch. Brows furrowing at the sheer stretch, tautly pulling your rubbery entrance to mold around his staggering girth-

“Yeahhhh, easy there. Take it hah- easy, gorgeous.” Geto’s batting is long, dark lashes up at you. And if you peered even closer you swear you could see his crinkled lids slip past a few stimulated tears. “S’a biiig stretch, isn’t it? N’ you don’t wanna hngh- hurt yourself.”

But you weren’t listening - you couldn’t.

You squeeze his tender throat tighter and Geto thinks he could cum.

The only thought running through your fuzzy head being to stutter out such thorough bounces, swallowing his rugged length from the curve of Geto’s inflated, ruby red tip, all the way until your plumped clit was rubbing back and forth against his dark happy trail.

“Fuck- hngh!” You’re moaning when his pulsing veins slip and slide in lightning bolted patterns all across your geysering sweet spots. “Feels so good- need more, Suguru.”

“Then fucking- take- it.” He spits, such a snarling grin smearing all across Geto’s face just in time with the pussydrunken splatters of drool leaking from one corner of his mouth. “Arch that back and take it.” Milking him until he’s lurching onto his elbows, “You’re the one ovulating, girl- use me.”

But you could feel your poor, overworked legs shaking, a pout cutely coating your words. “But-”

“Nuh uh, no complainin’-” You can’t help but flinch when his cushiony fingerpads reach over to give your bulging pussylips a good smack. Tugging right on the fleshy hood of your clit, “Take a few more inches n’ tell me who’s the one hngh- that was talking out of her cunt today, hm?”

“Sugu-” Swat! And apparently another soaking spank is all it takes for you to actually listen. Drooping your hips down further and further, bustling his bloated cock bottomlessly before the answering syllables tumble from your lips. “-fuck! Me- was me.”

“That’s right, good girl.” The thick fat of his thumb massages your treacly slit back and forth, forcing your hips to move in circling little gyrations that drive you wild. “Fuck, keep that rhythm. And who begged me to fuck this p-pretty pussy because it was that time of the month. Again and again and again?”

“Me.”

“Exactly.” He sounds so uncharacteristically smug. Dangerous. Such sexy veins puffing up Geto’s milky neck once he’s planting two feet firmly flat onto the cushy ground and pushing. Abs flexing with every swab of his weepy tip down your deepest depths over and over. “So if yer gonna ride me. Ride me right.”

Geto’s so feral pumping your cervix with branded bruises of his circumference, stuffing you so snugly full that your slick was flooding his bulky base in waves. “Bend your knees s’more- yeah. Yeah, move that hah- damn hand.”

Rudely sifting away your shy hands to cup his handsome face, he’s tilting his head right into your touch. You can feel your heart race when Geto nips your cozy palm, “Hold back my ah- hair, gorgeous. Can’t see her.”

Her being the way your glistening folds flutter when you push his silky locks into a haphazard ponytail and pull. Streaking a warm trail of sweetened juices down his abs when Geto bucks his slender hips to reach for-

“Ah! Fuck-” Your hazy eyes bulge out at the sudden crack of raw bliss, before scrunching pathetically shut once more when Geto’s split, plummy head crashes against the bullseye of your g-spot and drills down into it. “Sugu- I think I’m-”

And he knew it before you did. Could already feel the extra clingy smush of your walls, could see the way you’re letting your head tumble emptily backwards and cumming.

How cute.

Geto flies up one ravenous set of fingers to your heatedly pulsing clit and swats, one after the other. Two. Three. Counting them with each peak of pleasure he fucks you mercilessly through. 

Still letting his ears burn with the waterlogged thwack! thwack! thwack! of the spanks, you swear you could hear his breath hitch in awe. “We gotta train your riding, gorgeous. Luckily for you…we have allll night.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “M-more…?”

The moment those words are murking out in a puffed-out cloud from Choso’s lips, he thinks he could faint. He thinks he could feel his ears pop when you’re breaking apart from his plump, cerise tip with a wet plap!

“Mhm–” you’re nodding, treacly ribbons of spit and buttery cum still dangling from your lips and the leaky divot right on top of his swollen cock. “Sorry, Cho- this ovulation still has me so…horny.”

You’d just finished making him cum with that pretty mouth of yours, twice with your hands, and once merely from the sound of your sultry voice. And at the way your lips curve into the perfectly stained pout, Choso finds his loose maw dropping.

“No!” He’s hissing out, sounding as pathetically needy as he feels. A viscous puddle of saliva formulates at the back of his tongue and threatens to trickle from right between his kiss-bitten lips, “No no no don’t apologize, I- I mean.”

And fuck- even after so long with you, Choso still feels so fucking shy. Just the memory from today of you confessing that your ovulation was here and that you wanted him to…help make his high cheekbones scorch over with a cute red blush.

Lower lip wobbly precariously as he’s tugging at your sweat-simmered body to pull you from your knees, supporting your entire weight when you scramble onto unsteady legs. 

You’re raising a brow, “Cho? Do you want-”

Only to be cut off when Choso manhandles you around and all but slams you against the cool wall of your headily humid bedroom. One slender hand curled at your throat, softening the blow, the other pawing greedily at the fat of your ass. 

He’s pulling and prying to take a long look at the way your gluey lips were being oh-so-easily stretched by his aching shaft. 

Oh, you were so hot around him, it’s as if you were melting. Lacquering down a syrupy glaze of slick with every throbbing inch being fed inside-

“Don’t- don’t even know if I can cum anymore-” He’s breathing out in a heated whisper against your ear. Ragged and crazed enough that it makes your spine prickle with tiny goosebumps. “Don’t know if- fuck.”

But of course, he’s spying down at that lecherous sight. Words petering out when he cranes his drunken head downwards to leave an open-mouthed trailway of snogs down your back. Murmuring into your skin, “Don’t know if I can- hngh- even c-cum anymore. But for you–” Finishing off his trek at the finish line of your lips, “-anything for you, baby.”

Such a filthy, filthy French kiss. 

He could taste the saliva sugarcoating your mouth, feel the weight of those globules of his cum swirling into his own mouth. So sinful that it made him whine-

“B-baby, are you sure?” You’re managing, mouth faltering into an oh! as he starts up a fast, urgent rut of his hips. But Choso wasn’t ready to let you free that easily - no, no, no. He’s chasing after your lips as if he was addicted, suckling on your battered lower lip, “If you can’t…”

“I can.” He’s gruffing out, and he’ll apologize for cutting you off later. Right now, the only thing that Choso can do is roughly latch onto your hips and give you steady pound after pound. Countless. “I will- promise. All the way ‘ntil your ngh- ovulation finishes if I hafta, baby–”

Well and fully intent on keeping his promise.

His milky hips smack and strike eagerly against your own until the mounds of muscle underneath Choso’s soaked happy trail was all a stinging red. So much so that you see stars.

And shit- then you’re gazing at him over your shoulder and he thinks he could reach his high just from seeing your pretty face. “M’gonna milk you till you’re heh- dry, baby.”

Choso didn’t care that the tender curve of his fattened balls ached with overuse, didn’t care that those words and a simply snug cling of your dewy walls around him would be enough to make his strawberry orifice leak with copious volumes of cum.

Swamping your spongy cervix, he’s making such an utter mess by slamming! one palm down onto the wall fitting snugly inside you until he was thoroughly bottomed out. 

You’re gasping when you feel the warm plap! plap! plap! of something hitting the curvaceous edge of your shoulder. Only to tilt your head upwards and find your dear boyfriend crying.

Such pearly tears beading out from the edge of his chestnut eyes, and Choso’s clammy flush only grows ever-darker at the intensity of your stare. Fat, cylindrical shaft twitching upwards and hitting your sweetest spots with a dull thud! you shiver when he spurts out exactly three rivulets of sappy seed. 

Only three. 

“O-oh god–” He sucks in a deeply shuddering inhale, watery eyes fluttering as his hefty breeder balls squeeze and make him cum dry. “-s’this okay? S’this- ngh- enough? M’sorry I-”

“Awww, don’t apologize, Cho.” you’re humming, heat coiling at your tummy with just how bloated and full you felt right about now. Choso was always more than generous with the heaping torrentials of seed, swabbing a few delicate speckles with every thrust of his. “You did great- ngh- did so well.”

“Really?” He’s tightening his fingers around your throat to shut you up, to choke you lightheaded - because oh. There was his second weakest point - your praise. Only second to simply you in general. “Really? Y-you shouldn’t say that, baby- s’gonna ngh- make me…”

He doesn’t have to say a word.

He can’t.

Not when Choso was leaning back to eye your geysering hole, gulping at the sweltering hot beads of cum that trickle from between your pretty lips. Wispy little goblets that he can’t help but thumb over with a huff. 

“U-uh, baby.” Shit, there was something dark in that tone of his. Something…greedy. From the corner of your eye, you’re catching the pinkish flash of Choso’s tongue glide slooowly along his kiss-bitten lips while he still stares down lovingly at your pussy. After all- didn’t you say you’d milk him dry? He wasn’t quite dry just yet, no matter what the sensitive sting of his balls said. “On second thought- don’t you…don’t you want more?”

And he swears that only makes you wetter, you’re leaning upwards to kiss away one salty tear of his, “Thought you’d never ask.”

Oh. 

Choso’s going to marry you.

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Dickmatize

“Kuna- Kuna—” You were babbling away stupidly after only a few bruising strikes of Sukuna’s restless hips, halfway through crashing into the royal headboard if it wasn’t for one of his clawed hands latching firmly onto the crown of your scalp. 

“K-K-Kuna-” He’s mocking with a roll of his eyes, perking up two of his enguling hands to angle your hips even deeper. And the grin he’s plastering all over his handsome features is so sleazy, “S’there anything else ya can say, woman?”

Your lips wobble with a few strained whines, “Harder.”

“Harder? Keh- harder?” Sukuna spits out, letting your woozy lips drag across his in a lazy slip n’ slide - just about all that you could manage with how spellbound you were right now. “‘Course ya want fucking harder when you can’t even ah- handle- this-”

But it’s not as if Sukuna was doing any better.

Fuck was he glad that your dewy gaze was way too cross-eyed with every one of his vulgar strikes. 

Because Sukuna’s monstrously towering body was shivering, hooded eyes growing heavier every time the spherical ends of both cockheads skated into your snug channel. 

You were taking him so well, and that was making his cursed second mouth salivate.

And when he tilted his head mere inches his closer and sucked in a deep whiff-

“Shiiiit- I can even hah- smell the ovulation on ya, woman.” And Sukuna didn’t mind it one bit, in fact, he was taking in such heaving lungfuls of that specially candied air. Elongated canines gleaming in the dim lighting, “And it’s fucking delicious.”

He could always smell those special few days of the month when you got just a bit sweeter, even more gorgeous than usual, just a bit…needier.

The problem was that everyone else seemed to notice too. 

And he had half the mind to think that your ovulation was affecting him, as well. Because Sukuna felt feverish, head falling backwards when his proud lengths pry apart your gluey walls as if he was opening up his very own gift.

He just felt so dumb on your pretty pussy.

Your saturated folds lacquer with a freshly new wave of slick once Sukuna lets his maw fall slack with a growl. Sharp teeth nipping right down your throbbing pulse, easy to sink in. To mark. 

“P-Please–” You’re squealing when he’s letting off numerous thwacks! of his curvaceous balls against the weepy end of your slit, hard enough that it almost bruises. “Need you r-right here.”

And shit- Ryomen Sukuna may be the notorious king of curses, but he was nothing against you. Nothing against just how evil you were with your pretty hands trembling up the cylindrical bulge he was pounding into you.

“Want me to fill up th-this pretty pussy till everyone can see, huh?” Sukuna’s rumbling out, so close now that you could feel the rasping vibrato of his bulging pecs glissading down your front. “Till even that new fuck- coworker of yours realizes?”

His husky words out of place enough to make your droopy lids blink repeatedly, “Wha- who?”

That bastard giving you fucking goo-goo eyes and clinging onto you, that’s what. But Sukuna can’t utter that - he can’t even bring himself to do anything other than grit his sharp jaw, “Talkin’ about another man while m’all inside you, huh?”

Ah, the way your mouth falls into a shocked oh! is just adorable. 

Cockdrunken tongue struggling to get the coherent syllables out to defend yourself against his little tease. And if you were in any better state of mind you’d have sworn that only made him harder.

Stacked lengths barrelling into you once. Twice. And yet, pulling out on the third - watching your brows furrow when he takes his leisurely time fighting back the clingy embrace of your glutinous walls as he pulls out inch by fucking inch.

“Maybe you should have him fuck you insead.” Sukuna arches a regal brow, curling a stray hand around his bulky bases to leave a syrupy swot! right on your glossed folds. But, of course, with him it was always double the spank making your toes curl. Heavy. And hot. 

It makes your head spin, full of cottony thoughts of just him. “D-don’ want anyone else- ngh- Kuna- Just need you in me right now.”

“S’that sooo?” He’s drawling out, two palms smearing your jittery legs and spreading them widely agape. All the way until your inner thighs burned with both the stretch and the spurting streaks of pre he left. “Don’t know if I believe this slutty pussy, brat. Maybe s’jus’ the ovulation talkin’.”

He was being so mean.

But what was even meaner was the way Sukuna’s roguish second tongue lolls out to splat! right down on your treacly cunt. So, so comparably large - he was easily drawing wet little patterns all over your gooey core. 

Over n’ over.

“M’not- s’not–” You’re choking out, mouth needily parched. Rovering your hands dexterously over to cup his aching cocks - but you could barely even squeeze your digits into a close around them both. “S’not just the ovulation, Kuna-”

“Then say it.” He snickers, having way too much fun with just how needy you are. “Spell it out f’me.”

Hips bucking impatiently, “S-spell what-” But that’s when you realize- oh, that’s when you’re registering that those lewd little patterns being made out onto your pussy weren’t just patterns. 

No, you’re wrenching your eyes open just a bit wider to take in the sappy trail of sweet, sweet juices glazing Sukuna’s wet muscle. Lugging ounces of it allll over his tongue as he makes such a mess of you down below.

With the help of two fat digits smushing your cheeks together he’s prying your head to look right down. Just at the right angle to watch the dizzying motions of his tongue spelling out-

“A? Wait no-” Gasping as he plants another papping spank on your puffed-up folds, “-R? A-and is that- Y?”

You already knew what the next shape was going to be - you didn’t even have to watch the very edge of his roughened tastebuds draw a slow, circular kiss. 

Way off in the fuzzy distance you think you can hear Sukuna chuckle, cooing at your cute mewls. “O-o? Does it spell out- haaah- Ryo?”

Yeah, he was in love.

“Damn right.” Sukuna bites back a moan, when he sinks back in mercilessly. Feeding your starving cunt with a few scorching inches of both swollen cocks - and then all at once. “You’re mine, lil’ human.” And one slam turns into two. Four. Eight- until Sukuna was fucking you like he couldn’t stop. 

You were mumbling out stupidly, floods of murky saliva spilling in heaps from your mouth. “All yours?”

He’s spitting twice - once from each mouth. Wadding one mess past your ajar lips, and then another to slip down the hill of your clit.

“All mine.” He grins, oversized tongue slithering past your syruped folds to poke its way into your already-overstuffed hole. Taking in a deeeep breath of your honeyed pheromones, “And m’gonna fuck ya till that pretty lil’ head remembers.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - F.E.V.E.R.

Oh- Gojo’s head nuzzles dopily into the treasured crook of your neck, lips parted to heave out a scorching little pant of sweetheart—!

And at this point his sing-songy baritone is broken several octaves higher, held together at the seams with only a drunkenly crooked grin that you know doesn’t bode well for you. 

Because once again you’re left wondering whether it’s really you that’s ovulating or your dear, feverishly deprived husband right here.

Fingers twitching on the splintered mahogany headboard above, he jostles his hips to give your bruised and battered cervix a stinging little swab. Strawberry divot so red and angry, that just the slightest push leaves him slathering your insides with creamy pre in long, lazy ribbons. 

Just to remind you how achingly hard he still was. 

Even after hours and hours of you milking him dry, he was vibrating with the powerful buzz of reverse cursed energy that kept him oh-so-swollen.

“S-s’that ‘enough?” Gojo trembles out, shudders wracking down his spine. And you can’t help but ogle that unintentionally sexy flex of his washboard abs massaging onto your front. The way you could count each n’ every tight ridge. “S’that all my- hck! ovulatin’ girl can handle?”

Your chest lugs in desperate pants of air at the way each throbbing inch of his probes into your steaming orifices one by one. Languidly, as if Gojo had all the time in the world. “Y-yes…”

And oh, you really didn’t expect the strongest to fall for that one- did you?

All it takes is a few sloppy seconds for him to reel his head back and giggle, wild. Sapphire eyes gazing down at the inflationary little bulge he was fucking into you. 

Practically purring, practically heart-eyed. “Really? Well, that’s reeeeal interestin’, sweetheart, because-” Gojo’s dipping the thick, rounded pads of his digits to splay out over your tummy. Hard. And you swear you glimpse the way his half-lidded eyes crinkle with electric bolts of cursed energy, “-I can see that this pretty pussy is still in need of a hah- gooood fucking.”

You squeal when those very same fingers take a much filthier approach, tracing cute little patterns down, down, down to the sensitive nub of your clit. Before twirling over your plump hood and pinching. Making your leaky hole lacquer itself even wetter, “You’re still ovulating, needy girl.”

“Th-then—” you hiss back, the sole sound of your voice making his fat, ruddied tip twitch. He was so sensitive, so…filthy.

Feeling the soft curve of his free hand latch onto your waist, pinning down your squirming hips until you couldn’t jostle them even a singular inch more. To feel him more, ever-messing up your insides. “-then stop teasing me and-”

Ah, this was his favorite part.

Right when you had your brows furrowed needily that way, right when your lolling mouth was half-opened into the shape of a few snappy insults-

That’s the exact split-second he’s arching his prespired back into the perfect curve, hitting the spongy target of your g-spot dead on. 

“Still want more- h-heh–” Pearly white canines snarl back at the slippery slide of his dumbfoundingly long girth down your sweetest spots, rounded globes of his cum-filled sack swatting against the ends of your soppy slit with a resounding thwack! He lets off such a whine, “My girl wants- no, is begging for…more.”

Fuck, he sounded so ruined. Voice as brittle as you felt. 

You watch as his prominent Adam’s apple bobs with a husky ah! ah! ah! after every bounce back from the heated depths of your pretty pussy - he couldn’t bear to part even for those repeated split-seconds. Ruby red cockhead leaving stringy little wetspots that have you seeing stars.

“Yes-” you’re gurgling out, and Gojo’s only snapping his hips with vulgar strokes even faster to dredge out those pretty noises from you. “Yes yes- yes! Need it even harder, Satoru.”

Somewhere off in the distance you’re hearing a sharp crack! and only hours and hours later do you realize that it’s your poor bedframe. 

In the back of Gojo’s mind he couldn’t help but think that you’d be next.

“Harder- wait- harder? Ohhh, fuck- she wants more-” He’s seething out, planting a tempo of pounds after pounds that make sparks of heat sprint down your spine. It felt like you were being split into two - it felt like he was mazing apart your adhesive walls with such expertise that he must’ve been unfairly using his Six Eyes. “D’you realize that when you ask th-the strongest for hah- more, I might just break ya, sweetheart?”

Your dewy pussy folds twitch at those very words, enough to get him melting over into you. Hunching his sculptured body heatedly against yours, it has him considering proposing right then and there- “Wan’ you to, Toru–”

Fuck “considering.” 

Gojo’s feeling his maw flood with a syrupy wave of saliva, spilling out in trickling rivers on either side of his coral pink lips when he’s choking out, “Marry me- marry me.” 

His reverse cursed technique wasn’t even workin anymore - power rolling off of him in pressurized waves. He couldn’t control it.

Feeling his eyes go crazily wide, he could already feel them watering when Six Eyes kick into overdrive but still doesn’t look away from where your needy entrance was sucking his every fat inch. He wouldn’t. He can’t.

Entranced. 

Can’t do anything else, didn’t even register the wadded mess of sweltering cum coating your insides in a sloppy second skin. 

You’re squealing as more and more strikes planted onto your drooling cunt leave you rendered stupid. Gojo’s eager fingertips keeping your saturated lips held captive with an ever-tightening squeeze.

Your thighs jitter helplessly at the swashing cobwebs of seed that fill you to the brim and more. Seeping from your flooded entrance slobbering in a sloppy ring around Gojo’s hefty base, one that lecherously matches the drenched white happy trail scratching up and down against your puffy clit. 

“Baby, w-we-” So full it’s like you can barely even speak. Gulping in deep lungfuls of his expensive cologne when he’s stuffing into your personal space and nastily swirling his bloated cock around n’ around your rubbery walls, till you’re soaked with his cum in every nook and cranny. “-we’re already married.”

“O-oh.” He’s sucking in a sharp inhale, eyes flickering with axioms of power once he scoops up generous helpings of ivory seed topping his shaft, popping it into your mouth with a wet plop! 

And then - only then - is he finally looking away from your bawling cunt.

You’re not sure whether his simpering, feral smile is because of the realization or because he’s finally noticing that he’d cum. Only…the next few words spilling from Gojo’s mouth make you realize that it’s neither- “Can see that we’re gonna have a daughter soon, Mrs. Gojo.”

“...”

A/N. Can y’all tell I’m nearing ovulation hm…

Plagiarism not authorized.

[kkai-zen]

18+ nsfw, MDNI.

Thinking about big, beefy Simon Riley who just towers over you, all 6’4” of pure muscle. 

He’s a living wet dream. Muscled thighs under blue jeans, broad, veiny hands and biceps for days—God, he’s perfect. You’re lost in a heady daze thinking about what he might look like under all that body armor when he notices you staring at him. 

And that’s how you ended up here. 

“Si-Simon, s’good—ohh, fuck-!” You’re sobbing on his dick, hot and girthy and stretching you out deliciously, leaving an imprint on your stomach.

“Yeah?” Simon tilts your lolling head up to look at him, drool dripping from the corners of your lips. “Needed this, didn’tcha?” His voice is deep and husky in your ear, grunting as he drills you into the wall. 

His cock, pistoning in and out of your weeping cunt at a vicious pace has your vision spinning, and when he pulls the bottom of his mask up to devour your lips, you moan.

When he pulls away, you’re heaving for breath, your sweat staining his clothes. Simon wipes a bead of drool from your lips. “Bloody beautiful,” he breathes. “Need t' show ya just how pretty you are.”

With a deep thrust, he pauses for a moment, letting his length throb and twitch in your dripping heat. You whine as he presses his palm into your stomach, feeling the bulge of his cock. 

You buck against him, desperate for friction, moaning his name with abandon. “Simon please, please, keep moving,” you cry. “Simon!” 

He tilts his head down at you, stripping his clothes off, and your breath hitches when you look up at him—and then down at his now-bare body. 

Hulking muscles shining with sweat and twitching with exertion, you bite down on your lip to hold back a whine. He’s hotter than you could’ve ever imagined.

Broad shoulders, massive pecs, cut abs leading to the dangerous v-line that directs your gaze down to his cock still buried inside you—you have to close your eyes for a moment to stop yourself from creaming on his veiny girth on the spot.

His body is a constellation of scars: bullet wounds, slash wounds, burn wounds. But now, red scratches and bite marks litter his back and shoulders, and he starts thrusting again.

“Good fuckin’ girl, takin’ me so well,” he growls, one hand tightening its grip on your waist, the other coming up to cage you against the wall.

Pressing into you, you can feel his hot breath against your neck through his mask, sending chills up your arms. His musky scent is intoxicating, and you reel at the proximity of his lean, bulging biceps next to your face.

Burying your face into his muscular chest, you’re clamping down on his cock with desperation as you feel your orgasm approaching. “Hnngh- Simon, I’m- close-” you gasp out, nails digging into the taut muscle of his shoulders, cunt fluttering. 

“C’mon, pretty, cum f’me.” he groans, and you see his dark eyes squeeze shut under his mask. You squeal, whimpering his name like a prayer as you feel him finish inside you, clawing at his back as his seed paints your throbbing cunt white. 

You’re dripping slick and cum onto his twitching cock as he pulls out of you, and you collapse onto his broad chest. Sweat sticking your two naked bodies together, you bask in the afterglow of the moment as your pounding heart settles into a steady rhythm, matching his. 

“You alright, love?” Simon whispers after a long moment, placing a large hand on your lower back. “Mhm,” you breathe, eyes fluttering shut. “Jus’ tired.” 

The weight of his heavy body disappears from yours for a moment as he slips his clothes back on, readjusting his mask. “Simon,” you murmur, hand reaching out to tug at the hem of his shirt. “Patience, love,” he responds gruffly.

Without another wasted moment, he pulls you into his arms with a gentle ease, throwing his jacket over you. The cloth is surprisingly warm, dwarfing your figure, and you curl into his chest. “Don’t fall asleep on me yet,” he murmurs. 

After a few minutes of walking, you faintly hear the squeak of a door open and close before he settles you into soft, clean sheets. It’s only a brief second longer before you feel the mattress dip next to you.

Simon’s warmth radiates from his skin, and you pull yourself into him. He’s stiff, breath catching as he looks down at you with unreadable eyes, and he awkwardly embraces your body. “Needy, aren’tcha?” Simon grumbles.

But with the way he relaxes under your touch, it doesn’t seem like he minds. 

a/n: i'm so obsessed with this man (𖦹﹏𖦹;)

[luveline]

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

You and Spencer finally find time for your first time. 6k

fem, afab!reader, mostly confident!reader, foreplay, oral sex, p in v sex, lovey dovey tender loser sex, established relationship, pet names, aftercare, requested here <3

cw for smut, minors do not read or interact, 18+ content

˗ˋˏ ʚ♡ɞ ˎˊ˗

“Can you stay still?”

“No,” you answer honestly.

Spencer climbs further toward you on the bed. “I’m trying to help. You’re no good at buttons.”

You’re no good at buttons because your fingers shake whenever you and Spencer get close like this, and with these intentions. You’d always thought he’d be the shy one —sometimes you take his hand in the back of the work car to watch his cheeks go a rosy, unignorable pink. He’s the more introverted of the two of you and he always has been, so why does his touch have you trembling already?

Excitement, you decide, heart in your mouth as his fingers begin to pop your buttons through each matching slit. This is exactly what happened last time you and Spencer tried (and were sorely interrupted). You’d been out of breath and in his lap, too excited to see to his buttons, too busy kissing him to take much notice as he’d taken care of them himself. And then work called, your plans were cancelled, and he’d promised you that you’d get to do this soon.

“I’m good at buttons,” you deny, leaning back on the palms of your hands as his pinky’s brush up, the sides of your shirt falling open.

“Oh, you’re back,” he says. He’s teasing in bed. You aren’t expecting it. “You went somewhere else for a few seconds, you okay?” That’s less teasing, more sweet.

His hands pause just under where your bra begins.

You take a breath. “I’m okay, I’m thinking about last time.”

He leans in for a kiss, a quick but steady catching that has your face following him as he pulls away again, and undoes your next button. “Which part?”

The part where he’d insisted you’d be laying down for this. The memory alone inspires heat, pleasure and wanting from the depth of your chest, your stomach, ever lower.

“Did you lock your door?” you ask.

Your phones are off. The door is locked. Spencer promises as much in your ear as leans in closer to you, crawls that last few inches of space to have your legs tangled atop his white sheets, his hand disappearing under the open sides of your shirt. The other hand works the last few buttons, but you don’t get to watch him do it, distracted by his fingers hot on the small of your back and his lips as he pulls you in tight for another kiss.

This one’s slow. He holds you like he’s worried you’re gonna slip out of his arm where it curls behind you, cool air kissing your chest as he gets the last button by your neck and encourages either side away from you. You lean into him and shake your shirt down the lengths of your arms, finally shirtless in front of him again after days of trying. You try to keep up with his kissing, he’s intense, he’s everywhere, but you run out of breath.

“Oh,” you say uselessly, your cheek against his as he kisses your jaw.

“What, angel?” he asks, breath warm to your skin, “What’s up?”

“Nothing… I wore my nice bra for you.”

“You did?” He promptly pulls away. His face is pinking, but it’s so warm you can’t blame him for it. You’re sure he’d feel a furnace under your skin if he touched your forehead. Spencer’s gaze falls down to your chest, where it stays, his own rising and falling with a noticeable sharpness. “That’s pretty. You’re pretty.” He swallows as he looks up. “Your nice bra? Just one?”

You cover a breast with your hand and push it up ever so slightly. “This is the one I thought you’d like most. You like blue.”

“I love blue. I love you, I love you,” he says, leaning around you to move your discarded shirt to the floor. “Can I take it off?”

You nod with a stupid smile. Fond and too eager. “Please.”

“How many tries do I get?” he asks, grabbing your sides in two gentle hands, pulling you forward into a hug as he reaches behind you for the clasp.

“You can do it one,” you promise, voice a murmur now he’s close to you.

You let your hands rest on his hips as he pinches the clasp and pushes it together. Like magic, it comes apart. Spencer holds the unclasped sides to your naked back for a few seconds, his breath loud in your ear, before he sits back to look at you.

You push the straps of your bra down, let the support of your bra fall away. You ball it up in your lap, sitting there bare-chested and smiling, waiting, hoping you’re as beautiful to him as he’s always made you feel.

His hand climbs your arm. “You’re beautiful,” he says, “can I–”

“Yeah, please. Please.”

His thumb rubs a short line from your navel to the skin just below your breast. Your chest feels suddenly heavy, the half-lidded set of his eyes on you like a weight, but it’s one you realise you like as he rubs the indent of your bra. “You’re so pretty,” he says, his thumb pressing into the underside of your breast, kind but undeniably there, and your body reacts to his touch, which is another thing. He doesn’t coo, but it’s close. “How does that feel?” he asks quietly, drawing under your nipple with his thumb.

“Can you kiss me some more?” you ask, breathless in a way that’s almost painful.

Spencer clutches you by your sides, unafraid to play with you, pressing you down into the bed as his hands traverse up. You shuffle back into the pillows and let your eyes shutter closed, his nose pressing hard into yours as your lips meet again. He kisses hungrily. He’s treated you to a few heavy kisses in the past, nothing compares now to the open crescent of his lips and the feeling of his hands. His tongue is hot where it touches your lips, wading in. You sigh into his mouth and feel his own sigh in return as he breaks it.

“Fuck,” he says, his breath coloured by pleasure. He’s practically moaning in your ear as a big hand squeezes your chest.

You can’t take this. You lift your hips and graze against him, rushing to reach down and slip your skirt over the curve of your ass and over stocking clad thighs. You try to push them along at the same time, breathing hard.

Spencer notices what you’re doing and reaches to help.

“Your shirt,” you argue, faces close, his confusion an inch away, as are his pinked lips, “take your shirt off, Spencer, I can do this myself.”

“But why should you have to?” he says, though he listens, making quick work of his button up.

You kick your stockings off of your feet and lay there, warm, overwhelmed but desperate at once, watching him on his knees as he manages his last button and peels out of his shirt. You cross your legs tightly against the achy heat blooming in your cunt, uncharacteristically shy.

His chest is pale, without a freckle nor beauty mark, but he’s shapely. You've kissed him so much these last few months, traced the hills and rigid muscle of his front with an adoring hand under his clothes, but the two of you being similarly bared is different.

It’s worse when he reaches for the button of his slacks.

You bite your lip. “Spencer, can I do it?”

“Yeah.” He swallows again. “Of course you can. Don’t ask me.”

He’s getting warm, curls of his hair falling into his eyes, his breath a constant huff. The bulge of him through his slacks draws your attention. You crawl toward him where he’s kneeling, checking his face. When he nods, you rub the very pad of your thumb against the line of his cock, feel it jump at your touch. Your heart jumps in a similar place.

“This okay?” you whisper, your touch light enough that you’re surprised he can feel it.

“Please.” He says your name like you’ve hurt him. “Please. Take them off.”

“I can’t believe you’re like that just from kissing me,” you say sincerely, a mumble as you pop the button and dig your fingertip under the zipper, which you pull down in one smooth line. There’s an immediate release of pressure against his cock. You blink. It’s so warm in here. “Spence, can I–”

“Please.”

You nod to yourself and shift onto one elbow, shocked and even warmer when Spencer plumps a pillow behind you. Your anticipation is an ache that won’t ebb, hands trembling again as you pull the band of his pants down his hips and expose a pair of white and blue boxer briefs. A darkened patch of material rests against the tip of his cock, the curve of him ever harder as you touch him.

He sucks in air through his teeth.

“Aw, Spence,” you say, pressing the length of your thumb to his cock and breathing out as you ride the curve of him up to that wet spot. “Sweetheart… Does that feel good?”

He closes his hand on top of yours and holds you there. “Can I kiss you?” he asks.

“I think I gotta kiss you first,” you say, eyes on his straining boxers. “Think you might need one.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t. I’ll ruin everything before we’ve even started, you can’t kiss me like that.”

“Are you sure? I can make sure you’re ready.”

You’d never force him into anything. You’re letting him know it’s alright. You’re not gonna push him over the edge before he’s done, you just wanna do all the stuff with him that you’ve been dreaming about for a while now. You have a feeling he might enjoy it.

“You can tell me to stop whenever you need me to,” you say softly, feeling his cock twitch in your hand at the mere sound of your voice. “I wanna see you.”

He laughs infectiously, almost drunkenly, the two of you giggling as he shifts your hands. He doesn’t say anything more, only moves your hands down over the softer base of his cock to encourage his pants out of the way, and then his boxers.

His cock is pretty like he is as he pulls it out. You knew it would be. A little taller than your hand, he tugs it toward his stomach and you watch in delight as a string of precum catches the light, wetting his palm.

You’re patient. He lets it stand without help and you curl your hand where his had been at the base, his cock shining in lines, that welling of precum spread messily around and worse when you give a soft pump. “Oh my god,” he mumbles, shuffling closer to you on his knees, his hand leaping to your shoulder. “Oh, god.”

You tilt your head. “How’s that, baby?”

“Please, angel.”

You lean in for a kiss.

Just a kiss, but your lips part, your spit ready on your tongue and slick in a heavy line up the side of his cock. All you can think of in that moment is how much you want him, how gentle his hand is on your shoulder despite the wounded little breath he lets out, and the stickying feeling of wetness that grows between your thighs, your underwear damp at the very centre and clinging to you as you crawl as close to his front as you can get. You kiss and kiss up the side of him, not silly enough to love on his most sensitive skin at the head, not after his warning, though the idea of his cock shuddering against your lips and tongue makes you squeeze your eyes closed.

You kiss shy of his tip and tilt your head back to look at him. He’s already watching you, squinting with a palpable agony.

“Are you okay? Is that alright?” you ask, loosening your grip on his cock to draw a loving, sweet line down, and down.

He catches your wrist. “You can’t do that again,” he warns gently, hint of a smile in his eyes. You beam at him adoringly. “Lay back? There’s something in my way.”

“In your way,” you murmur through a smile, laying back in the pillows as he’s asked you.

Spencer sheds his slacks and boxers. You pull your legs up to give him room to kneel on the bed by your legs, pulse like a constant humming ache against your cunt as he takes your calves into his hands and presses your knees together. “You’re not gonna say please like I did, are you?” he asks.

“Do you need me to?” you ask, teasing him with your own hand, letting it travel from the base of your throat and over a tightened breast to your stomach, then your underwear. You flick the waistband. His eyelashes flare. “I can say please, Spence, I’d love to say please for you. Is that what you want me to do?”

“I don’t ever want you to say please, you know that.” He encourages one leg flat to the bed. The other, he pushes up, fabric of your underwear tight to your warm cunt and heartbeat surely taking up station in your throat. “Maybe I can say please.” His hand coasts down your thigh. “Would you like that?”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t say please, or don’t touch you?” he asks, stopping his squeezing.

“Spencer!” you laugh, moving your hips ever so slightly, raising them in hopes of his understanding. “This is cruel, I didn’t tease you.”

“You’re nice,” he says, again pressing your leg up toward your stomach, eyes on the bump of your cunt as he begins to lean down. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs, pressing a surprising kiss to your soft inner thigh. “So perfect.” Closer now, nose skirting toward the elastic of your underwear. “Please, can I?”

You press your shaky hand to your lips, palm out. “Please,” you say into your skin. “Yeah. Yes, you can. Can you?”

A kiss to the skin beside your cunt, his free hand riding up to squeeze the bump of it, his thumb pressing against wet heat, your breath caught. He rubs a line up from the wet to your clit, and he smiles when he finds it, though that smile is swiftly overtaken by parting lips as he kisses a mixture of skin and fabric and starts to suck. You hiccup at the feeling.

“You sound cute when you’re happy,” he says into your thigh. He turns his head slowly, looking up at you, his thumb rubbing almost absentmindedly at the sensitive little hood of your clit, your nerves all over the place. He’s giving you the puppy eyes, big and brown and in sickly love with you.

“Happy’s not the right word,” you breathe out.

“I should fix that, right?”

Your stomach does a hard flip. “Yeah.”

Spencer isn’t as timid about it as you’d imagined he’d be, his reality better than any fantasy, his hands kind but quick where twists his fingers into the waistband of your underwear as he begins pulling them down.

He lets out a long breath as the air kisses your cunt, his eyes trained obviously on one spot in particular as he takes your panties all the way to your feet. He rolls one leg off, leaves the other hanging at your ankle as he grabs the soft underside of your knee and encourages your leg up.

You can feel your cunt spread, feel the wetness that had been growing dribble from you. “Ah,” you say, more breath than word while he holds your leg in place. “Spencer–”

“Am I hurting you?”

“No, no, I just need you to touch me, please, I–”

He says your name, says, “Hey, don’t talk like that, I’ve got you, I’m gonna touch you, just needed to know you’re okay–”

“Spencer–” you squirm with wanting.

“I know,” he says, the tip of his cock turned impossibly red where it’s resting against the heaving of his abs, “trust me.”

He reaches for your abdomen, his palm resting lovingly on the pudge of your tummy. You squirm for it lower. “If you think I’m not gonna give you everything you want, you're crazy. When don’t you get your way?” He leans down, and to your relief, your little gasp of breath, he kisses your naked cunt. “When don’t I want to give it to you?” he asks into your skin.

Every word he says is heat and movement against the nerves that make up your clit. You practically shiver as he lets his lips part against you and kisses all over, unafraid to feel every little bit of you, his tongue pressed wet and flat your softest parts. You spread your legs in anticipation of him, his thank you a kiss that lights up every nerve ending you have that stems from your hips, the breath racing out of you and moans not far behind. He rubs the length of your leg, his fingers trailing towards his kissing. The hand that isn’t up to something just loves on your skin. The hand that is pauses shy of your cunt’s wet hole —you can’t help letting out a choked moan as he sucks on your clit and the skin around it, sudden, the feeling of hot slick dripping from you worse as he pulls away with a quiet pop.

His lips shine in the lamplight. “I’m gonna start getting you ready, okay?” he asks, a small smile somewhere in the midst of a gaze that’s otherwise laden with lust. His fingertips tease your entrance. “What do you think, angel, can I do that?”

You might need a kiss to get through it. You can’t decide whether you want him to keep eating you out like that, like you’re water to the famished, like he’s worried he’s not quick enough to get every bit of you where he wants it, but you’re so desperate to be fucked by him that you can feel it in the pit of your stomach. “Spencer, you need to kiss me,” you decide.

“I am–”

“No, come here. Need you on top of me. You can get me ready,” you agree, eyes peculiarly damp, “but I really wanna kiss you right now, baby, please, please–”

He’s on top of you by your second please. You gasp at the rigidity of his cock pressing to your cunt and find it lost in his mouth, his fingertips wet with sex pressed to the side of your face. He remembers himself, kisses all the same but hand moving down again, turning his weight onto the bed and off of you as he feels at your cunt. His fingers slide through hair and wetness alike to tease at your cunt. You can feel wet on his fingers as he pushes in just a centimetre, again on his thumb when he circles your heat carefully, and all the while he’s kissing you like he’s been starved of you. He’s saying angel and so pretty against your stinging mouth.

It’s strange when he pushes two fingers in, but not bad. You’ve never done this with one another, and it takes him a few careful thrusts of his fingers to figure out where he should be directing his motion, and what to do to make you happy. You nod into his mouth as he finds a sweet spot and presses into it, quirked fingers quick to the very last knuckle, his pinky and index fingers sliding without resistance against the wet mess on either side of your cunt. “There?” he asks.

“Yes,” you say, pulling his face closer to yours, your hands twined deep in his hair.

He digs around against your walls, to your abject joy and something else, some emotion you can’t name, the want to be touched everywhere by him, to be the kind of full of him where you can’t breathe.

He presses his fingers inside you, undulating against the gum of your walls, and groans into your lips as you pull in a shivery breath. His hips jerk hard, his cock sliding against your stomach hot as a brand.

Spencer pulls up. You’re in the throes of one another, but his eyes are clear. “How do you want it?” he asks tenderly. “Can I stay here, or should I move back?”

“Just to start, it’s always tight–” You catch your breath now he’s paused, stroking curls away from his flushed cheeks. “I’ll sit up a little and you can still hold my hand,” —he doesn’t question this even for a second— “just so you can see what you’re doing, and then–”

“It’s okay, we can work it out,” he interrupts. “I’m not gonna rush and hurt you.”

“I didn’t think you would,” you whisper, cupping his face in your hand.

He ducks in for a slow, chaste kiss.

“I know you didn’t,” Spencer says. He takes another kiss, pressing one to the top of your chin.

Then he’s shuffling backwards and off of you, and he’s grabbing your hips, lifting you up as he positions himself at your cunt. You shuffle back in the opposite direction to wedge yourself firmly in his pillows, knees up and heels either side of his lap as he moves in. His cock rubs against your cunt by accident, then quickly again with a deliberateness, like he’d felt you and couldn’t help himself.

“God, you’re so pretty,” he says. His eyebrows pinch together in a glare, his thumb pressing to your clit. There’s no purchase there anymore, your wetness having made its way up, but he rubs it nonetheless. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You grab his hand. Twine your fingers into his. “I love you, Spence,” you say easily. “Don’t be shy.”

He’s giving you that Can’t believe I’m with you look that he often does. It reminds you of the first time you met when you’d called him beautiful without knowing he’d mean this much to you one day, because he really was gorgeous, everything you’d ever want in a guy and lovelier after. You flirted your way into being his friend, and one day your hand-holding was hugging, your friendly cheek kissing turned to lazy hickeys, and he’s still giving you that look. Like he doesn’t deserve you. Like you’re gonna disappear.

You reach between your centre and his to nudge his hand down, guiding him into place. “Say you love me,” you request in a murmur.

“I love you,” he says, head of his cock against your opening. He abandons your clit, to your disappointment, but he’s grabbing the rump of your ass and hip to hold you in place.

He is achingly, achingly slow. He’s so gentle with his thrusts that you feel like you could love him twice as much as when you started, his wrinkled brow, his eyes flitting between your face and the stretch of your cunt to check on you as he goes. He reaches a natural resistance, nothing he couldn’t push past if he didn’t want to, but he doesn’t have to —he’s not fully sheathed and yet you’re aflame with pleasure. He’s at just the right angle. All he needs to do is move.

“There?” he asks softly,

“Please, right there.”

He pushes forward and a breath leaves his lips like you stole it. “You’re tight,” he says, “I knew you would be at first, but I didn’t expect– do I need to stop?”

“No, no, that’s the best part…” You close your eyes. If he weren’t holding your hand you’d cover your face. “Spence, it’s supposed to feel like this, baby. You just find the way you like it and I’ll tell you if it’s not right.”

“Promise?”

“Promise– oh.”

The fronts of his thighs press to yours, his cock flush to your walls and digging into something sweet and sensitive enough to make your thighs shake. Good luck, you think, for the two of you to fit together like this, for his cock to fill you without hurting or leaving you wanting, even though he’s just a little over half inside. He goes slow, almost repetitive, his thumb drawing dedicated half circles into the back of your hand where he’s securing it to your hip. Breathe, you think, I have to breathe. There’s nobody here but Spencer. You can show him exactly how this is making you feel.

“Fuck,” you say, letting out a little moan, worried it won’t be something he likes.

“Fuck,” he echoes emphatically, “does that feel good, angel?”

“Uh-huh,” you say. His chest shines with sweat, his cock driving in, all his touching and adoring drawing a litany of your most vulnerable sounds, hiccups and whimpers, beggy breaths that plead for him to do exactly what he’s doing until he can’t.

“Can you keep your leg up?” he asks.

“What?”

“Can you lift your leg, angel? I need my hand.”

You nod hurriedly and hold your leg aloft as he’d been, not pretzeled but giving him the room he needs to drive forward. He’s swift in his intention, pressing his free hand to your cunt, unabashed, marriage and middle finger slippery against the head of your clit and drawing precise circles. After a few timid thrusts of his hips, he matches speed. Every thrust met with a circle of your clit, his face dipping down to kiss your leg.

“There,” he says to your knee, “I got you, I’ll get you there.”

“I don’t wanna cum yet,” you confess.

“No, I know, but you have to feel good, I need to touch my girl.”

You don’t want to argue with that. He’s never said something like that.

He goes on. “You’re so pretty, I don’t know– I don’t–” He gives a tight smile, “don’t think you know how beautiful you are, you feel–” He moans, then, like he’s pleading.

You don’t expect to be close this soon. It had to be the way he’s talking to you, or his lazy mouthing at your cunt before you’d started. “Wait! Wait, Spence, don’t,” —you grab his hand to stop him from drawing anymore circles— “I have to do it, or I’m gonna cum already.”

He says fuck, thrusts in just a little deeper than he had been, head of his cock kissing just the right place, “Show me how to do it the way you need it.”

You play on the edge of your orgasm for long, long minutes, your hand over Spencer’s drawing the smallest of circles, your nerves aching, the pressure of it like his hands pressed to your tummy. Spencer fucks you, fucks into you, ruts into you when you give him a flirty smile, angling his hips a touch to the side.

You usher him down to you, craning your head up to his. “Can I have a kiss?” you ask with a voice stretched to gossamer. You’re in love with him and you could cry for it as he fucks you, but you try not to. Not yet.

Spencer licks his lips. “You can have everything.”

He slows his thrusts to a drag. Slow drag out, full push in. His hips press to yours and you squeak as he fills you with every inch he has, his hands vying for your clammy face.

He can only thrust slowly from there, though it feels like it’s hitting somewhere new, if not deeper. Shifts of his hips against yours, a mess of slick between you and the friction of his skin. You kiss and pant into each others mouths, spit stretching like a string from his lip to yours that he promptly kisses away. It’s everything you needed it to be, and you can’t hold off much longer. “Wanna cum,” you tell him, stroking the skin under his eye, his gaze aligned with yours.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Can you– like before–”

Spencer understands. He sits back, drags you by the hips onto his cock, and set about fucking that dedicated pace, three fingers pressed to your clit. He goes as slowly as you showed him at first, and that in time with his thrusts sends a pleasure through you that makes you gasp. He speeds his hips at the same time as his fingers, your skin so wet that it requires dedication to wind the coil, but he does wind it, over and over and over again until your walls are rigid tight and your hips are working desperately to chase the feeling. He’s pushing you to the edge.

You cum, and your breath gets caught. You force out a breath and you keen in the feeling, covering your face with both hands as Spencer pushes you through it with a few last teasing circles and a couple of quick thrusts.

Spencer knows without asking to slow as you come down. You laugh into your hands.

He doesn’t quibble when you let your legs fall flat around him, only strokes your thigh, paused half inside of you to offer you one of his shy smiles. “You even sound pretty,” he says.

“You think so?”

“Of course I do.”

He takes a measured thrust. He’s not not confident these days, but you can see the man you adore now between your legs, in love with you but not sure what to do. “You can keep going, baby.”

“You sure?” he asks.

It’s gonna be intense, but you want that. “Come back,” you say, angling your tired legs around him. “Come lay on top of me… Please.”

It’ll be nice to hug him now. You whine as his cock slips out of you and again as he lays atop you and slides it back in, your cunt waiting for him and slick as anything as he settles.

“Is this too much?” he asks, cupping your cheek.

He rolls his hips demonstratively. You didn’t know there was anything left there to give him, but he can have it.

You wrap your arms around him, your forearms to the line of sweat on his back, and give him a hard hug. “You can have everything,” you utter, repeating his earlier promise to him with the same encapsulating love as you cling. “Fuck me however you want.”

When it starts again, chills ride up your spine. Spencer finds a place you didn’t know you had and fucks against it with love, so deep you feel like you can’t breathe, his nose rubbing harshly into your cheek. He squeezes your shoulders tight in his arms and you’re sure you’ll never catch your breath again, and you don’t want him to stop. You’ve never felt this close to him.

Your naked chest rises uselessly beneath him as you fall into the whining, pleading bit of sex, your moans half gasp and lost in his hair as he burrows his face into the pillow by your head to hide his same desperation.

“There you are,” he mumbles, hips grinding into yours. He must say your name ten times in a row, each one more frayed than the last, until he’s lost it completely.

“Go faster, sweetheart,” you suggest, squeezing his hips between your thighs.

Spencer begins again in earnest, nipping crescent moons into the curve of your neck, thrusting fast until he can’t. You hear him trip into cumming like it’s an accident, his thighs go all tense and his cock throbs as he presses you flat, flat to the bed.

He gives a last few greedy thrusts before he calms, though he doesn’t stop moving. Spencer rolls his hips for a slow, languishing minute.

His hand finds your shoulder. His face turns to yours as you turn yours to his, two halves of a good kiss.

“I love you,” you whisper.

He’s panting, but his reciprocation is immediate. “I love you more.”

“No, you don’t.”

Spencer lifts himself up enough to wrap his arms behind your head, almost framing your head where you’re laid underneath him. “Trust me, I do.” His eyes shutter. You close your own in wait of another kiss, but he’s sliding the tip of his nose down the bridge of your own. He draws a circle, draws soft lines over your cheek in zigzags.

“Tell me what to do now,” he murmurs.

You scratch his back lightly. “Aw, Spencer, just keep doing this.”

—

Spencer cleans you up and you finally cry, a couple of tears you’re hoping he won’t notice as he drops the towel on your leg. He holds you with his hand behind your back and murmurs words too nice for such silly tears into your cheek, before asking, scared, if he’d hurt you.

“No, no, it’s like the most intense relief in the world!” you tell him, selfishly basking in the muscle of arms where they’re wrapped around you, and his silky hair whispering over your ear. “I feel amazing.”

“I didn’t think you’d be one of the women who cry afterward,” he says. He’s not judging you, simply sharing an observation. It makes sense. You’re not usually emotional in such an unconstrained way.

“I’m really happy.” You pinch his chin mildly.

“Your legs are hurting.”

You let him go. “Yeah, a bit. It’s a nice hurting. Like we went for a really long walk.”

He takes your face into both hands and tips your head back. You’re slouched forward, he’s straight-backed, and he’s taller where he’s grinning at you. His hand comes to rest against one of your breasts, giving it a little cup before he presses it flat over your heart. “I thought you were never gonna calm down.”

“You have that effect on people.”

“Maybe that’s true for you,” he says, tapping your nose with his, encouraging you to lift your chin. “But only one person’s ever made me lose my breath like that,” he adds, your lips touching, not kissing.

You could keep him forever. “Think we should turn our phones back on?” you ask.

“When I’ve made you something to drink, sure. And found you something to wear, right? It’s too cold.”

You’re still hot enough to cook an egg, but you let him take care of you. It’s as good as being fucked, being adored when it’s done. He gives you underwear first, a soft tank top and a pair of panties you’d left here before and he’d washed and pressed, your sweetheart. You’re surprised he doesn’t help you into them, but you notice with fond bemusement that he’s cringing as he steps into a fresh pair of boxers.

“You okay, handsome? Did you tweak something?”

He’s in pants before you realise, standing shirtless with sex-tousled hair. You could ask him back to bed if you weren’t exhausted. “I’m not in shape.”

“I could say otherwise.”

Spencer’s on top of you again in an instant. He sits on your naked leg and pulls down your rising tank top before twinging your hands in his. He’s practically in your lap as he kisses your chin. It’s that earnest you end up giggling, lovestruck, two idiots holding hands. He steals a couple of lazy kisses. You can’t remember how many you’ve had anymore.

“You’re contrary,” he says as he pulls away.

“Can’t you be nice to me? You were acting so nice.”

He slides off of your leg. “You’re my best friend. I hope we’re this happy for the rest of our lives.”

You fist your hand in the rumpled sheets behind you. He’s apparently unaware he’s said the most special thing he could’ve, opening his closet door to retrieve your pyjamas from the shelf he dedicated to you the first time you slept over. You are best friends, is the best part. He’s not exaggerating.

Before he’d ever kissed you, you were in love. You’ve been in love for years.

Spencer drops your pyjamas next to you on the bed. “You want me to help you put them on?”

You have no reason to need help tonight, but you want it. “Yes, please. Can you rub my back after?”

“Yesss. I’d love to rub your back. If we maintain our physical connection after sex, it enhances the relaxing factor but it also prolongs the effect of the oxytocin and dopamine your brain would’ve released when we were–” He picks up your sleep shirt and shakes it out. “Well, you know.”

“Any more sex facts for me?”

Spencer has the nerve to blush, considering the way he’d spoken to you only ten minutes ago. “An orgasm as a woman can lower your risk of heart disease, breast cancer, and depression.”

You smile at him sweetly. “No kidding. How much to get that risk down to zero?”

He kisses your cheek. “You know that’s not how it works.”

“We can still try.”

“Um. Can I have a banana first?”

“I’m kidding!”

“Oh.” He gestures for you to put your arms into the sleep shirt. “Well, maybe you can have a banana too and we’ll see how we feel.”

˗ˋˏ ʚ♡ɞ ˎˊ˗

Thank you for reading!!!!! I hope you enjoyed it! please reblog or let me know what you thought if you have the time, but I hope you enjoyed regardless!

[dollysoob]

── .✦ RiGHT TO THE CORE ⦂ p.sh

( 𝒫RECiS ) ⦂ in middle of the night, your boyfriend with a high sex drive kept you up 𓈒𓈒

( 𝒞AUTiONS ) ⦂ js a lot of nasty stuff ig 𓈒𓈒 mdni

you tossed in your sleep, something bothering you, but you weren’t quite sure what it was. you sighed until you felt your boyfriend grinding up on you.

your breath hitched as you felt his hardness through his clothes and to emphasize its size even more, his hardening erection nestled snugly between your ass.

“h-hoon..” you whimpered as he couldn’t resist rocking his hips, grinding the length of his cock against your soft flesh through the soft, thin fabric of your clothes.

sunghoon grunted, holding you tight so that you didn’t squirm away from him. “y/n, stay still..” he muttered in your ear, gently biting your earlobe, receiving a soft gasp from you.

his hands began groping your body anywhere they could. they roamed over your curves, his thumbs circling your nipples through your shirt. you moaned in arousal, your pert tits pebbling under his much needed touch.

he splayed his hand out on your stomach, caressing the smooth skin of your flat belly before moving them to cup your breasts yet again. he kneaded them with precision, thumbs flicking over your hardened nipples, causing you both to gasp in pleasure.

“fuck..” he groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily, seeking more friction against your body. “you have no idea what you do to me, baby girl..” sunghoon then started to plant open-mouthed kisses on your neck, which were sloppy and messy but felt so good.

you didn’t make any protest and he pushed the fabric of your panties aside, delving two fingers deep into your clenching channel, taking pleasure in the velvety tightness that gripped him.

“just like that… fuckkk..” he moaned, pumping his fingers slowly, savoring each and every single squeeze. “so wet already.. such a slut..” sunghoon praised, his thumb finding your sensitive clit, rubbing firm circles around the swollen bud as he finger-fucked you deeper. the sound of your heavy breathing and lewd squelch of his digits filled the room,

“look at you, getting off on my fingers, so cute..” your head lolled back, a choked moan escaping your lips as your inner walls began to spasm around his digits. your hips bucked against his fingers with a slow, steady pace. as you came around his fingers he groaned, flipping you on your back. he crawled between your legs and began to eat you out, tasting your cum as if it was some gourmet meal.

his tongue delved into your dripping folds, lapping up your sweet nectar. sunghoon feasted on your cunt, savoring every tangy drop as he devoured you with unrestrained hunger.

your hand fisted in his hair, holding him close as he pleasured you with his mouth. your hips matched his movements, grinding against his face, desperate for more of that incredible sensation.

hoon happily obliged, sucking your clit between his lips and flicking it with his tongue, sending jolts and sparks of arousal between you both.

“mmph, you’re so delicious, y/n..” he murmured against your slick heat, his words vibrating against your clit and making you shiver. “i could eat this pretty pussy all day long.”

suddenly, sunghoon pulled back, stripping his clothes, revealing his large dick already hard and excited. you bit your lip, feeling some wetness come out of your folds yet again at the sight.

he positioned himself between your thighs and thrusted himself in the hilt inside of you, stretching your tight walls. sunghoon’s hips began to piston in and out of you, setting a relentless pace. “fuck.. you feel amazing.. so tight and wet, like you were made for my huge cock..”

you cried out softly, your legs gently gripping his waist as he took you deeper. your bodies slapped together, the lewd sound mixing with your panting and moans of ecstasy. “don’t hold back, y/n.. i wanna feel you cum all over my dick..”

your inner walls clamped down on his pistoning shaft, the relentless pounding of his cock against your g-spot combined with the friction of his pubic bone grinding against your sensitive clit becoming too much.

you whimpered, gently tugging his hair, indicating your upcoming orgasm. hoon smirked, picking up his pace and came with you, collapsing next to you.

he panted, licking his lips as he held you close. “we should fuck more often baby.. i need to knock you up with some of those cute babies we’d make..” he said, smiling.

“hoon-..” you say, hitting the back of his head jokingly.

© withwons

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Insatiable

aemond x wife!reader

Summary: A collection of Aemond and you taking advantage of ovulation week. 

Warnings: 18+ breeding kink, swearing, oral(m+f), fingering, p in v, public, dry humping, incorrect explanation/medical information bc its medieval and they actually don’t know anything abt women! 

Authors Note: the plot is being desperate for aemond so 🤷🏼‍♀️ this wasn’t on my w.i.p. bc it was written spontaneously in one sitting x 

Word Count: 3.7k i think this might just be pure filth like fr

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

You have had the most intense need for Aemond the past two days. Anytime you’re both alone you’re on him begging for him to take you. This morning is no different as you beg on your knees blocking him from leaving your shared chambers. He stands above you with an amused smile on his face as you pout and bring your hands up to his thighs. 

“Husband, please.” you bat your eyelashes at him. “Gods please, please,” your pleas but a whisper. “Aemond, please. Let me just suck your cock before you train. Please?” his eye bulges at your brazen words. 

“You should hear yourself.” he says lowly as he tilts your chin up. “Utterly indecent.” he clicks his tongue watching you rub your thighs together. 

“Aem,” you whine pressing your forehead against his thighs. “Please,” your begging is going straight to his cock and he feels his control slipping. “Husband,” his fingers are tugging at his laces on his trousers the next second. “Thank you, Aemond.” you sit up quickly and pull his trousers down. You reach in and free him, bringing his tip to your mouth quickly. 

“Better, my needy little wife?” he groans as you suck harshly on his tip. You hum around him, lashing your tongue against his tip. When his droplets meet your tongue your eyes flutter shut and you suck him down your throat. “Fuck,” he lets out a throaty moan bracing his hands on the wood door behind you. 

You start to bob your head quickly while clenching your thighs and listening to his soft pants. His hips softly jerk and you moan around him matching your pace to his. You pull almost all the way off of him to suck and lap at his tip. Your fingers wrap around his shaft and pump him as you worship his tip. You wrap your lips around his tip and suck as you quickly pump him watching his stomach flex. He groans as his forehead presses to the door next as he lets out soft curses. 

Aemond can’t help but jerk his hips into your hands and mouth and when he looks down at you he sees you watching him with devotion. You start to suck down his length again and you feel him twitch down your throat. You smile, hollowing your cheeks as his seed starts to fill your mouth. You hum contently as you suck down everything he gives you. He pulls you off of him with a heaving chest and you help him back into his pants. He helps you stand and pulls you against his chest. 

“Thank you.” you mumble into his jerkin. “Do you think when you’re done training you could fill my cunny next?” you look up at him and smile seeing his cheeks flush. 

“I have some things that need tending to today.” he chuckles as a frown forms on your face. 

“Are they more important than filling your wife?” he clenches his jaw, willing his heart to stop racing. “I’m already dripping for you.” you grab his hand and guide it under your night dress. “I need you so badly, Aem.” you whine as he slides his finger down your slit watching you squirm in his arms. 

“We will both have to have some patience today.” he says through his teeth as he dips his finger into your warm cunt. You beg and plead him as he slowly pumps his finger before slowly pulling it out and trailing it back up your slit. “I’ll be back.” he presses his lips to your forehead before slipping his finger in his mouth and looking at you with a dark eye. “My sweet wife.” he hums and slips out the door behind you. 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

When Aemond walks into your shared chambers after his meetings he quickly shuts the doors hoping no one heard your whimpers. As he walks up the stairs he sees that you’re spread out across the bed in one of his tunics with your hand buried between your thighs. Your other hand is squeezing your breast above the material as your fingers circle your bud. You hear his footsteps and peel your eyes open as soft whimpers leave your lips. 

“Aemond,” your chest heaves as your fingers speed up. His fingers grab onto the hem of the tunic and he pulls it up and over your head. 

“What has gotten into you?” he chuckles as you grab his hand and bring it to replace your own between your thighs. He watches your eyes shut again as your hips roll against his fingers. He dips two fingers into your core and you moan loudly arching off the bed. “Spread your legs more for me.” he pats your thigh with his other hand and he settles between them. He brings his face down to watch your pleasure coat his fingers. His tongue flicks against your bud pulling gasps from you. 

“Gods Aem, yes,” you whine when he curls his fingers. He slams his fingers into you as his tongue circles around your throbbing bud. Your whimpers spur him on to lash against you faster as they become more broken and high pitched. “Aemond,” your legs slam around his head as your pleasure bursts through you. He pulls his fingers out quickly and soon his tongue is in their place lapping at your release. 

“Is this what you do when I’m not here?” he pulls back and looks at your heaving chest. “Hm?” he hums, starting to circle his thumb against your bud. “You sit here and play with your cunny?” your fingers grip around his wrist as your legs start to tremble. “Gods you’ve been no better than a common whore these past couple of days.” he starts to kiss up your body while his thumb continues to swirl. “Should I take the day tomorrow and just fill you?” he chuckles as you nod your head.

“Yes, please yes.” you nod your head as you feel your stomach tighten. His teeth take your nipple and your eyes roll back as your pleasure is pushed over the edge. Aemonds tongue circles the bud he bit before kissing across to your other as he slowly continues to slide his fingers through your wetness. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” he lifts up and presses his lips to yours as he starts to untangle from you. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

Aemond had moved most of his meetings to the early morning in hopes that you will still be abed by the time he is done. As he’s walking down the hall to his next meeting he’s greeted by you turning the corner. He watches your face flush as your teeth dig into your lip and he groans knowing he’s going to be late to this meeting. You take quick steps and stop in front of him and look up at him with a small pout. 

“You didn’t even wake me to say goodbye.” you press your hands on his chest. 

“That’s because I would’ve had to say ‘goodbye’ to you for an hour.” he smiles resting his hands on top of yours. “I only have two more meetings and I’ll be done for the day.” he watches you step another foot closer pressing yourself against him. 

“Aem.” you whine softly. 

“Can you really not wait?” he cups your cheeks knowing he’ll be dragging you into the nearest tunnel entrance in a minute. 

“I need you.” his hands leave your face at your words and grabs your hand quickly leading you down an empty hall. He looks around and nods when he finds the alcove. He presses the door open and helps you in and clicks the door shut behind the both of you. When he turns you grab his face and pull him down to your lips. 

“This is going to be quick. I’m to be in the library in ten minutes.” he flips you and presses your front against the stone and starts to lift your skirts. “Of course you have nothing on under here.” he shakes his head as he’s met by your slick cunt. He grabs your ass and you arch back into him and press your cheek against the stone. He unlaces his trousers quickly and is soon pressing his tip around your wetness. 

“Aemond,” you pant and your nails dig into the cool stone as he presses into you. He snaps his hips into and you moan loudly. “Please.” you squeeze around him and he groans, digging his fingers into your hips. 

“What are you begging for now?” he chuckles at your small whines. 

“Fill me. Aemond please.” you roll your hips back into him and he snaps his hips into you harder. You lean back into him and with every snap of his hips he pulls a gasp from your lips. “Mm yes,” you pulse around him and smile as you feel his seed pour into you. He keeps pumping into you as you shake in his arms. “Thank you Aem.” you hum as he pulls out. He groans watching his seed slide down your thighs before he pulls your skirts back down. 

“Of course, my needy wife.” he presses his lips to yours. “Go back to our chambers and I’ll be there in a couple hours.” you nod as he helps you out of the tunnels. 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

“I’m sorry I’m late, Grand Maester.” Aemond quickly takes a seat at the table across from the man. 

“Do not worry, my Prince.” he offers Aemond a smile. “What is it that you needed to discuss?” he nods prompting him to speak. 

“How can I tell if my wife is with child?” he feels his cheeks flush as the Grand Maester smiles. 

“When was her last moon blood?” the maester asks and Aemond nibbles his lip, counting the days.

“About a fortnight ago,” he nods. 

“Why do you think she’s with child?” he raises his brow and Aemond knows his cheeks must be bright red now. Gods he should’ve gone to someone else first but he wanted someone with the proper knowledge but divulging this to a maester? 

“My wife has been particularly.. insatiable.” he avoids the maesters eye contact. 

“I see,” Aemond can hear the smile in his voice and he’s absolutely mortified. 

“Nevermind. Speak of this to no one.” Aemond rises rapidly and the maester stands with him. 

“My Prince, a moment.” he calls out. “That is a side effect of carrying a child, yes.” he nods his head. “But as you’ve told me it’s only been two weeks since her last moon blood I’m thinking it could be what we call ovulation.” Aemond scrunches his brows unfamiliar with the term. 

“And what is that then?” he purses his lips still not happy to be in this conversation regardless of whether he prompted it or not. 

“During the years of study we’ve been able to learn more about the woman’s body and what happens monthly along with the moon blood. Many tend to have an influx in certain.. needs around two weeks before their next blood. We think it has something to do with the body being ready to carry a child. It’s still being studied but I wouldn’t be surprised if she is carrying a child soon if what you speak is true.” the maester offers all of the knowledge he knows and Aemond nods, not understanding a thing he is speaking about. 

“Thank you, Grand Maester.” he turns and begins walking to his next meeting, taking a mental note to find books on this. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

After his talk with the Grand Maester yesterday he kept you awake all night until he was spent. Gods the thought of you carrying his child had him.. what was that word the maester used? Ovulating. If you were ovulating then so was he. When he woke this morning the view of you in the soft golden light had his cock stirring. He pulled the blankets down your body and groaned watching your skin pebble. Your eyes blink open as he brushes his fingers across your cheek. He rolls over on top of you and you melt into him as he presses his lips to yours. 

You wrap your legs around his waist as he slides his tip up your slit. Your hands bury themselves into his unbound hair as it curtains around you. He continues to rock his hips into yours as you hold him closer. He kisses down your neck and sucks softly as you whimper beneath him. He reaches between the both of you as lines himself up with your entrance. As he pushes into you, your breath catches as you arch into him. 

“Aemond,” your fingers tighten in his hair as he starts a slow rhythm.  He kisses his way back up to your mouth sealing your lips together. His hips start to fall into yours quicker causing you to gasp into his mouth. “Yes, please,” your hands move to his back and hold him closer as he rolls his hips into yours after every thrust. 

“I’m going to keep filling you with my seed until I’m sure you’re carrying our child.” you hold him tighter at his words. “That’s what you want right?” he lifts up and watches your face scrunch with pleasure. “Your little cunnys telling you it wants to be filled? Hm?” he chuckles, feeling your legs shake around his waist. 

“Please, Aemond yes,” you whine rocking your hips with his. “Fill me, please. I want to grow our child. Please let me.” he presses his forehead against yours as his thrusts become erratic. “My husband please,” you arch up into him. “Let me give you children, Aemond.” your toes curl as your pleasure approaches. 

“My perfect wife.” he grunts, still snapping his hips into yours. “I’ll keep you bred and filled on this bed until you’re swollen with my seed.” his words push you over the edge and your eyes roll back as you fall apart. You shutter as he fills you, continuing to slowly rock into you. “Go back to bed. I wake you when I’m ready to fill you again.” he kisses you softly before he rolls back over and pulls you against his chest. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

Aemond needs to know what the maester was talking about at their meeting. He makes his way to the library after making sure you were overly satisfied and tucked into bed for a nap. He refuses to ask for help in finding the section and starts where he believes it would be. He lets out a relieved sigh when he finds a couple different books and gathers them before bringing them to a table. A servant scurries over and offers him a couple candles before giving him his space. 

The accountings of the maesters tell him more than the Grand Maester did and he was thankful for taking the time. He was shocked to find out how thorough these maesters were doing their studies and was looking forward to seeing these signs appear on you. Thinking about your breasts swelling had his mouth watering. The sensitivity your body will feel when he presses his lips against you. His breathing deepens as he keeps reading and thinking about you growing with his child. He snaps the book shut when someone touches his shoulder. 

“What are you studying so dutifully?” he relaxes at your soft voice. You walk slowly around the front of his chair and he looks up at you with a raised brow. 

“Why do you have a cloak on?” he starts to open the fabric to pull it off only to be greeted by your bare body. “Gods,” he hisses. “We are in the library.” he silently scolds you yet still brings his hands to your waist and pulls you closer. He pulls the tie and the cloak slips to the ground as you stand between his legs. His eye travels over your chest that’s littered with his bite marks and as he looks between your thighs he can see the trail of your mixed pleasure from earlier still leaking down your legs.  

“I can be quiet.” you bite your lip. 

“No you cannot.” he chuckles, pulling you onto his lap and bringing his hands up to your breasts. “Do you like that someone could just walk over here and see how you’re begging for me? See how desperate you are?” he pinches your nipples and you let out a soft whine. 

“Please Aemond,” your body shutters as you grind against his trousers. 

“Take what you want then.” he smirks and sits back watching you hump against him. 

“I want you to touch me.” you whine into his neck as you rock your hips. “Please Aem,” you press your lips to his neck. “I need you to touch me, please I’ll- 

“Gods be quiet.” he puts his hand over your mouth. “The whole Keep will know what’s going on.” he groans as you continue to rock against his cock. His thumb moves to brush against your bud and you moan into his palm. He watches as your eyes squeeze shut the faster he circles his thumb and the way you shutter. He sees your pleasure ripples through you and onto his trousers. 

“We need to go to our chambers.” you nod with a heaving chest. He grabs the discarded cloak and wraps it around you once more. He leads you out of the library not bothering to put the books back. He tugs you along with him half tempted to pick you up to get you in bed quicker. His cock is straining against his trousers and he can feel the wet spot that you left behind. 

“Aem, slow down.” you whine and squeeze his hand. He groans and picks you up and continues to your chambers. You pout and dig your fingers into his back to which he responds with a quick spank. “Aemond.” you gasp. 

“What?” he chuckles, taking the last corner to your chambers. He opens the doors and thuds them closed behind us. He walks over to the bed and drops you back on it, watching the cloak open along with your legs. 

“Please,” you look up at him, spreading your legs wider. He unlaces his trousers and pushes them down enough to free himself. He coats himself in your wetness before pushing into you. “Yes.” you softly gasp as he starts to rock into you. He pushes the cloak open and grabs your breasts roughly as he snaps his hips into yours. 

“My perfect and eager wife.” he feels you squeezing around him tightly. “Going to be swollen with our child soon. I know it.” he grunts, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours desperately. You whine into his mouth as he ruts into you. Your high tears through you and you feel him fill you a second later. 

“Thank you Aemond,” you hold him tightly as he keeps pushing into you. “More,” your legs wrap around him and he chuckles. 

“Let me undress.” he kisses you softly before pulling your limbs off of him. “Pull off your cloak.” you whine sitting up and untying it from your chest. You toss it off the bed and sit up watching him slowly pull his clothes off. After his last piece of clothing hits the ground he starts walking over to you and you spread your legs for him. “Gods,” he rasps watching his seed leak out of you. 

“Please.” you reach out for him. “Please Aemond,” you whine. 

“Shh,” he shushes as he settles between your legs. He trails his hand between your thighs and slides his fingers through your wet core. He pushes two fingers in with ease and watches as your eyes shut. He feels your body tremble as he kisses across your chest before sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. His teeth tease the hard peak and your fingers tangle in his hair. 

“Yes.” you gasp grinding against his hand. “Aem, yes,” his thumb begins to swirl around your bud. Your body is vibrating with pleasure as he coaxes more out of you. He pulls his fingers out of you only to replace them with his cock. “Aemond,” you moan loudly. He lifts up from your chest and looks down to watch as he repeatedly buries himself in your dripping cunt.

Aemond watches your stomach flex and your breasts bounce with every thrust. Your mouth is open as the most obscene sounds come from you along with his name. You open your eyes and look up at Aemonds flushed face and his eye locks with yours. You cup his face and bring his lips to yours. The kiss is slow and sensual as he starts to slowly rock his hips into yours. He thrusts start to become harder, pulling soft gasps from you. 

“You’re taking me so well.” he whispers, boxing your head in with his arms. “I can’t wait to see you grow with our child. My beautiful wife.” he presses his forehead to yours. Your fingers dig into his back as your toes curl with pleasure. He groans as you pulse around him and his hips falter. He regains his composure and starts to push into you frantically chasing his pleasure. You squirm beneath him with whimpers falling from your mouth continuously. 

Aemond chuckles listening to you babble incoherently as your legs fall limply to your sides. He snaps his hips quicker into you while your fingers dig into his arm as you feel as if pleasure is never ending. A sigh comes from deep within you as you feel him start to fill you. His thrusts become slow as he kneels back and pulls out of you causing soft gasps to pour from your mouth at every inch. 

“Perfect.” he groans, flipping you both over so you rest against his chest. You whine when you feel him slip back inside you and slowly roll your hips against him. “Rest.” he runs his fingers up your spine, softly jerking his hips up into you. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌 

and a pic belongs here again 🧎🏼‍♀️ 

taglist ✍️ 

@ka1afbr @ninihrtss @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @alexxavicry @misspendragonsworld @papichulo120627 @ashovertheriver @gabriella-aesthetic @moonymoo1 @faenyra @uwuuness @lizzylovebooks280501

[gunslinginnhogtyin]

Butch is pleasantly surprised by the firm return; any fella who could match his grip (or go beyond) had his immediate respect!

“I sure do! An’ don’ get it twisted, m’friend, I ain’t th’ type t’ kill animals. Well—…I go huntin’ every now n’ again, but fer deer ‘re coyotes, y’know? An’ even then, I use ‘em get food. They’re invasive anyhow.” He waves a dismissive hand. “I like gators! S’hard t’find anyone who wants t’challenge ya t’a fight an’ gators realllyyy put up a tussle, haha!”

“An’ th’ fact that yer ‘mpressed oughta tell ya how ‘mpressed a gal’ll be.” He points out. Their walk doesn’t last too much longer; their previous suburban setting is quickly replaced by trees and forest, houses and town buildings disappearing into the distance until they were completely out of sight. The lake isn’t too painfully far out though, enough to keep it from seeming like he’s about to murder this poor guy anyway! They approach a clearing with muddy patches littering the grass and along the edge of the lake. The spiky scaly back of one of the aforementioned reptiles can already be seen treading just beneath the surface of the mossy water.

“Lookit! One was waitin’ fer us!” He exclaims with a point of his finger the moment he spots it, boot heels squishing in the mud as he rushes over to the edge excitedly.

Johnny hadn't expected a grip quite as firm as that, causing him to throw up his eyebrows for a brief moment, but he's lucky that he's a pretty resilient guy. The muscle certainly helps with that. So, he just tries to one-up the cowboy by giving an even firmer grip. Yeahhh, baby—he's the man!

"So, you do this often, Butch? That's pretty cool. But, uh... about the alligator. What happens to 'em, exactly...? 'Cause I wanna impress some babes, but I ain't exactly lookin' to be a gator killer or nothin'..." Wrestling was one thing—but Johnny doesn't think anything beyond that would be good on his conscience.

[thef1diary]

Dreamy Desire | C. Leclerc

Kinktober 1/11 ~ Somnophilia

Summary: Even though you were in deep sleep, Charles found you irresistible.

warnings: 18+ smut, somnophilia obvs, fingering, oral, unprotected sex

wc: 1.6k

kinktober masterlist

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

The steady rhythm of your breathing fills the room, a gentle sound that lulls Charles into a state of restless anticipation. Moonlight spills through the window, casting a silver glow across the bed where you lie, the comforter having slipped down to reveal more of your body. Your legs are slightly spread as you shifted around in your slumber, the hem of your night slip dress riding up, exposing the delicate fabric of your panties. 

He sits beside you, eyes tracing the delicate lines of your face, your slightly parted lips, down to your spread thighs. 

He knows he shouldn’t, knows that waiting for you to wake up is the right thing to do. But tonight, something inside him stirs more intensely than ever before. The way you lie there, so peaceful and unaware, ignites a desire in him that’s impossible to ignore. You’ve discussed this before, shared your desires and given your consent, but Charles hadn’t been tempted until now. It’s a trust he’s grateful for, an offer he’s careful to respect even as his pulse quickens with anticipation. 

Charles reaches out, fingertips brushing lightly against your cheek. Your skin is warm, soft, and he lets his hand linger, savouring the undisturbed contact. His breath catches as you shift slightly, your body responding to his touch even in deep sleep. It takes all of his self-control to keep his touch light, refraining from letting the bulge in his boxers make all the decisions. 

In the quiet of the room, his mind races with thoughts of you, of how much he loves you, desires you. A smirk plays on his lips as he realizes how utterly vulnerable you are, allowing him to ruin you in any way he chooses. 

His hand moves down, tracing the curve of your shoulder, then the length of your arm. He leans in, his breath warm against your neck, inhaling your subtle distinct scent. It’s intoxicating, this quiet intimacy. He presses a soft kiss just below your ear, barely more than a whisper against your skin. 

Your body reacts, a shiver running through you, and Charles freezes, heart pounding. But you don’t wake. Instead, you shift again, turning slightly towards him, lips parting in a sigh. The sound is like music to his ears, and he can’t help but smile. 

His hand continues its journey, removing the comforter completely before sliding his palm underneath your slip dress, lifting it higher. The warmth of your body against his palm sends a thrill through him. 

Unable to resist any longer, Charles leans in, his lips brushing against your inner thigh. After peppering a few kisses, he moves higher, his kisses growing bolder as he reaches the edge of your panties. He can feel the warmth of you, the heat radiating from your core as he spots the wet patch on the flimsy fabric. 

His hands slide under the hem of your dress, fingertips grazing the fabric of your panties before gently pulling them aside. The sight of you, so exposed and vulnerable, ignites a fire in him. He lowers his mouth to you, his breath warm against your skin, and begins to kiss and lick with a reverence that borders on worship.

You moan softly in your sleep, a sound that spurs him on. His tongue teases your sensitive folds, tasting you, savouring every moment. He knows your body, knows what you like, and he takes his time, enjoying the way you respond even in your unconscious state. 

Your hips start to move, a natural response to his ministrations, and he can’t help but smile against you. He slips two fingers inside your cunt, the slickness and heat pulling him in. He begins to move them in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue on your clit.

The soft sounds you make, the wet sound of your slick, the way your body reacts, it’s almost too much for him. He wants to wake you, to see your eyes filled with desire and love, but he can’t help but feel a tad bit selfish too, wanting to keep this moment for himself. 

Charles continues, his mouth and fingers working in tandem to bring you pleasure. You shift around, eyes still closed, and he feels you clenching around his fingers. He knows you’re close, so he stops. 

Removing his fingers and detaching his mouth from your clit, he pulls back, watching a string of spit connect to your pussy from his lips. He raises his fingers to his lips, lapping up your taste with his tongue. 

He watches as your chest rises and falls, knowing you’ve fallen into the depths of sleep again. He wanted you to wake up clenching around his cock, whining and begging as soon as you woke up, which was all you were good for anyways. Always begging for him, to stuff you up with his cock. Nothing else ran through your mind, and this time he was going to prove it by waking you in that manner. 

Spreading your thighs further, he shuffled up after discarding his boxers. He paused for a moment, wrapping his hand covered in your slick around his cock, moving it up and down as he admired your compliant state. 

Your hardened nipples were visible through the dress hiked up to your waist, your spread thighs and wet pussy was a sight for him, and him only. 

Charles takes his time, savouring the anticipation as he strokes himself, eyes locked on you. Your peaceful form is almost too much for him to bear. He loves you deeply, but in moments like these, the raw, primal desire takes over, and he can’t help but revel in it. 

He leans forward, positioning himself between your legs. He teases you, running his head up and down your slit, coating himself further in your slick. You twitch, hips moving on their own accord as he pushes inside with deliberate slowness. The tightness, the warmth, it’s all so perfect, and he has to bite back a groan. Your body welcomes him, even in sleep, and he watches as your face contorts slightly with pleasure. 

The feeling of you wrapped around him is intoxicating, and he takes a moment to control himself, not wanting to rush this. He starts to move, slow and deep, each thrust measured and deliberate. He can feel the tension building, knows you’re on the edge even in your sleep. 

Your eyes flutter open, a soft moan escaping your lips as the sensation pulls you from your slumber. You shift slightly, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, then into his hair, pulling him closer. The look in your eyes, that hazy mix of sleep and desire, is everything he hoped for. 

“Charles,” you whisper, your voice a breathy moan. “Please…”

“Shh, go back to sleep, chérie,” he mumbles, his lazy thrusts hoping to lull you back to sleep. 

You try to hold onto the pleasure, but the slow, deep rhythm of his movements is soothing, making it difficult to stay awake. Your hands move through his hair, a soft, instinctual gesture that makes him shiver. Charles’s eyes remain locked on yours, filled with an intensity that speaks volumes of his desire for you.

The feeling of him inside you, the warmth and fullness, is comforting and intoxicating. Your body reacts to him, hips moving in time with his gentle thrusts, but your eyelids grow heavy, the call of sleep too strong to resist.

Charles watches as you struggle to stay awake, a small smile playing on his lips. He knows how much you crave him, how much you need this, and it only fuels his desire to give you everything you want.

“That’s it, just relax,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “I’ve got you.”

Your grip in his hair loosens, your body melting into the mattress as you begin to drift off again. The sensation of him moving inside you, combined with the warmth of his body pressed against yours, lulls you further into the depths of sleep. 

He feels you clenching around him, a sign that your body is still very much aware of his presence even as your mind slips away. Charles’ movements remain steady, the slow and deep thrusts designed to keep you on the edge of consciousness. He watches you, captivated by the way you surrender to him, trusting him completely. 

As he feels your body beginning to build again towards release, he knows he’s close too. The slow, steady rhythm becomes a little more insistent, his own need becoming harder to control. He wants to feel you cum around him, to know that you’re as lost in this as he is. 

His hand moves between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it gently, knowing exactly how to push you over the edge. Your body tenses, your breathing hitches, and he can feel you getting closer and closer. 

He leans closer, whispering in your ear, “cum for me, mon amour.” 

The command, mixed with the pleasure he’s giving you, is enough to send you spiraling into bliss. Your body clenches around him, and a soft cry escapes your lips as you cum. 

The sensation of you tightening around him is too much for Charles. He thrusts deep one last time, his own release hitting him hard. He groans your name, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm as he spills inside you. 

As you both come down from the high, Charles kisses you softly, his lips lingering on yours. You nuzzle closer to him once he pulls back, wrapping your arms around him to keep him close. “You need to do that more often,” you say, your voice still laced with sleep. 

Charles chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Anything for you, chérie.”

With a final sigh of contentment, you drift back into a deep, peaceful sleep. Your dreams and reality blur together, the only tangible evidence of your dreamy desires becoming reality are the mingled traces of your arousal and his cum slowly leaking from your cunt onto the sheets. 

taglist: @cheer-bear-go-vroom @ggaslyp1 @nominsgirl @moll1701 @mrs-saturday @teamnovalak @sassy-chan @ruti26-11 @kennysimp101 @falling-feels-like-flying @laeblue @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bountychanti @savewaterdrinkvodka @cloud-55 @aarchiives @holylovercopsludge @black-fireproofs @lazydragonpeach @biancathecool @myownwritings @rebelatbay @ethereal0810 @leclercsluvs @01rrdbull @fallingforfalll2 @lilorose25

[lilacheavns]

@sunflowerswriting

the sky was completely clear and a vibrant blue colour when izzy left work that morning. it was now nearly five and she was more than eager to get home and out of the stuffy building she was stuck in for hours. she had been running around all day, answering phone calls or emails, filing paper work and taking whatever orders her coworkers threw at her. being an assistant was a tiring job and not one she particularly liked but it paid decently which was all that really mattered to her. she doesn’t bother saying goodbye to anyone before leaving, letting out a sigh as she puts her back against the wall of the elevator. she bolts out as soon as it reaches the ground floor and opens with a soft ding. her roommate had borrowed her car for the day, meaning izzy had to walk home. she only lived about twenty minutes away so the walk didn’t sound so bad until she got outside and looked up. the once open sky was now filled with dark grey clouds, gentle rumbles of thunder coming from them. she thought about calling a cab but decided to risk it, thinking she could get home before it started to storm. she was wrong.

izzy was almost home when it started to rain. it came flooding down, completely drenching her. she held her bag over her head in a pathetic attempt to stop some of the rain, cursing herself for not just calling the stupid cab. she was relieved when her house was within eyesight, her brisk walk turning into a jog as she grew closer. she climbed up the front porch and fumbled in her bag for her house keys. she always kept them in the same pocket but this time they weren’t there. she looks through her entire bag, even dumps it out completely — no sign of them. “you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” she whines, the thunder roaring behind her. her roommate was at their night shift and wouldn’t be back until the morning.

izzy groans and leans her head against the door for a moment as she thinks about her options. there weren’t very many, since she was relatively new to the area she didn’t have any friends close by that she would reach out to. it was then that she remembered a certain male — mateo. they had came across one another a few times, smiling at each other in acknowledgement but hadn’t actually talked more than that. she had snuck a number of cheeky glances at him when he was on his porch or in the yard, admiring different things about him but was never the type to initiate anything. now though, she really had no choice. she turns on her heel and sprints across the street to his house, awkwardly stepping up onto his porch. izzy loudly knocks on the door a few times then takes a step back, her soaked through clothing clinging to her small frame. her heart clammers in her chest as she hears it unlock. once it swings open her eyes meet his. “um, hey. my uh, roommate is out and like an idiot i’ve seemed to have lost my keys. do you mind if i hang here until the rain lets up?”

[tojiphile]

ONE PIECE LIVE ACTION MEN + DICK HEADCANONS & SIZES

a/n. i wrote this last night at 5am while sleep deprived so the further it gets the more wack it gets LOL

cw/tw. f!reader, rough sex, blowjobs, dirty talk, slight exhibitionism, body hair, skinny penis, unprotected sex, for 18+ readers

MONKEY D. LUFFY

— 6.5” but thinks he’s average, so he doesn’t stretch it out with his abilities. not too girthy, but he makes up for it with his unrelenting stamina. it curves up against his stomach and leans left slightly. a little bit messy because he tried to shave it once and nicked himself, so he just settled with the hair. honey-toned towards the base and a deep red at the tip, especially when he’s raring to go.

— he wants to do it in every position, on every surface. he has you bent over the dinner table, one leg up and slamming into you mercilessly. he has you spread eagle in the bathtub, legs locked behind his back as he stuffs you full. it’s almost as if his dick is made for you, the curve perfectly abuses your g-spot as every orgasm overwhelms you, and you’re left a sobbing, babbling mess. he wants to know if he’s doing well, and he gets his answer when you chant “s— so, ah! good, fuck, d— don’t stop!” like a prayer.

RORONOA ZORO

— long, fat and heavy. he’s blessed with a stunning 7.3” length, though if anyone asks, he rounds down to make them feel more at ease. veiny. the mushroom tip is flushed purple, and it’s rests nicely on your tongue!! probably messy down there, he doesn’t see the point in shaving or trimming, but if you ask nicely, he’ll grunt, roll his eyes, and do it for you.

— you insisted that you didn’t need any prep, but as you straddled him, lining up your cunt with his cock, you soon realised your mistake. you have to spread yourself open, face scrunching up, and slowly sink down. he loves the feeling of your pussy walls fluttering as you start riding him. when your eyes flutter shut and your hips stutter, he takes control—holding you tight by the waist and fucking into you until you’re screaming.

SANJI VINSMOKE

— 6.4” and so so pretty. slender, with a pale shaft that leads into a rosy pink at the tip. it curves up and to the right. the carpet matches the drapes. he keeps it neat, though he probably doesn’t grow much hair anyway. he trims it once every few days, but he’ll never admit to it. smells the best AKA smells really clean, like soap.

— he goes crazy when you maintain eye contact and drop to your knees. you take his cock in hand, lifting it to run your tongue on the underside, tracing a prominent vein. you swirl your tongue around his sensitive head and his whole body is shaking, knees buckling as he chases that familiar high.

USUPP

— coming in at 5.8”, he makes up for it in his thick girth. when he jerks himself off, he can barely wrap his hand around it. he’s soooo sensitive that the wind can blow and he’s be hard. fat fat fat mushroom head that’s olive, golden-hued, and always oozing precum. heavy heavy balls. he might be clumsy and inexperienced, but his size alone is enough to make you drool. trims sometimes but only when he thinks he might get lucky.

— his hand grips your hair as you worship his cock, working magic with your mouth. as you jerk him off, you give small kitten licks to his leaking tip, tasting his salty precum. you whisper, “i want you” and before you know it, he has you pinned under him, rutting his thick cock into you desperately. his eyes are fixated on the way your cunt swallows him, and only strangled groans escape his lips.

BUGGY

— sorry buggy simps but he’s definitely a shower not a grower, though he still does comes in at a nice 6”! also, it’s ya boy, skinny penis. built like a tree branch but at least it’s really veiny, AND he knows how to talk you through it. so really, it might not be the most impressive but with his confidence when he’s fucking you? he’ll fuck you out and make you believe he’s 8” and 5”.

— he loves admiring your sopping cunt as it swallow him whole, your princess parts stretching to to accommodate his cock. he likes to fucks you. he presses you up against a window and fucks you from the back, choking you with his forearm and practically purrs, “taking me so well, ya dirty slut, fuckin’ cunt was made for my cock.”

SHANKS

— he doesn’t act like it buuuuuuut monster cock. it’s 7.8”, thick, and curved so much it slaps against his happy trail. let me tell you that when he sun tans, he does it naked. he lathers that horse cock up with sunblock and spreads eagle on the sand, hands behind his head, so he’s bronzed and beautiful. trims when he feels like it or if you ask, he doesn’t really think much about it.

— he doesn’t look like he’s putting in much effort when he fucks, barely breaking a sweat, but he has you writhing, hands gripping the sheets, eyes hazy and choking on your own spit. he knows what he’s doing to you. his thumb finds your clit, rubbing in delicate circles making you cum over and over again until you’re absolutely wrecked. when he’s close, he picks up the pace, grunting heavily, hips stuttering as he spills his seed inside of you. when he pulls out, he takes the time to finger fuck his cum back into you, your body shaking as you work through the aftershock.

[amcrtentias]

Looking suitably guilty that she's distracted Lily from her book again, Rosie still can't help but feel buoyed by her friend's support of her wild theorising. It's a rare person indeed that would be willing to give her the time of day when she gets caught up in her more esoteric thoughts, and she counts her lucky stars daily that their paths were fated to cross.

"You're completely right!" Rosie agrees eagerly, "Like, humanity has been looking tae the universe fae signs about our existence since... well, probably since we first felt uncertainty, so the dawn of civilisation? And why would we keep coming back tae the same things if there wasnae any merit in them? Why would muggle papers even bother wi publishing horoscopes if there wasnae some part of them that thought it could be true?" A lot of the predictions are hogwash, certainly, written by cynics that just want to get paid, but the facts remain: magic is real, and every major publication has an astrology section. It can’t be a coincidence, surely?

Her fit of passion over for now, Rosie sits back down when Lily asks after the prediction that set her wondering in the first place. "It's Capricorn," she says again, scooping the copy of Woman's Weekly off the table and offering it to Lily to inspect, "Her prediction matches mine exactly, look. 'Change is in the air, dear Capricorn, and ye've never been one tae twist in the wind. Ye walk a clear path, and ye do not stumble, but sometimes ye cannae see the wood for the trees. If ever ye feel lost, don’t be afraid tae look outwards for guidance - the people you trust most will lead you wherever you’re meant to be.’ Granted hers is a bit less frilly than mine, but the bones of it are the same!”

the sight alone is a marvel . lily did not entirely understand the intricacies of what primose was studying or where the details came from , but nevertheless - she watches her best friend with a glistening smile even if this was the third or fourth time lily was forced to stop reading the book she had brought along with her . ❝ i believe that it makes sense , ❞ the witch says astutely , inserting her thumb into the spine of the book to hold her place before closing it so she can scan her eyes across the table . rosie had been victim to lily's many ramblings so , of course , lily would pay back too . ❝ there's certain certain charms that repel them that influence their mind when they breach a certain vicinity - so why wouldn't strong magic not be felt by them too ? ❞ lily is still not entirely sure if she's making the point priomose was drawing but she'd change stance quickly to support her friend , if needed . ❝ what's the muggles saying that makes you say that , though ? ❞