#even though last time i could have every frame in it

[lovscb97]

tags: park sunghoon x fem!reader, established relationship, size kink, strength kink, bulge kink, d/s dynamics, dom!sunghoon x sub!reader, unprotected sex (plz don’t), breeding kink, creampie, dirty talk, degradation (slut, whore), praise kink?, nicknames (baby, princess, angel, hoonie, etc), slight fluff, lowkey pwp, reader is described to be shorter than hoon and is easy to pick up/throw around, reader is also very down bad for him (aren’t we all), etc

wc: 2.67k

add. notes: hoon won the poll i put out so i present to u my first ever enha work :3 thank u very much to everyone who voted n this will def not be the last enha fic i put out so do not worry there is much to come for hyung line!!! also icon creds to @/v4mpjay :3

. . . 

sunghoon doesn’t know how much longer he can take this. 

it all started when he began going to the gym regularly, slowly bulking his figure up and feeling himself grow out in his clothes. what used to be his lanky frame that greeted him in the mirror gradually turned into a built man with lean muscles and sharper features, adding to what was already there initially. it wasn’t like this wasn’t what he wanted though, albeit the entire reason why he even started working out in the first place being to improve his health and build better habits for himself, but the outcome wasn’t too bad in itself. he got used to feeling stronger, more lighter on his feet or less out of breath when he climbed the stairs, and it was enjoyable to know that he could lift twice his weight and still feel good as new. in some way, things felt like they were going swell.

that is, until you came into the picture.

now, sunghoon’s always known that you’re small compared to him. even when standing side by side, his height next to yours is a little laughable, though he supposes you’re used to that considering you’ve always been shorter than most of your peers. he’s well aware of how you have to go on your tippy-toes when you guys kiss, and the soft feel of your little hands in his is something that spins in his mind constantly when your fingers lace together. it doesn’t help that you always ask him to fetch your favourite mug from the top cabinet too, his larger physique towering over yours each time he leans over from behind you. he likes to tease you about it, revelling in the way you pout cutely back at him whenever he makes fun of you jokingly despite the small smile playing at your lips, but little do you know about the twisted fantasies breaching his thoughts every moment you spend together. he wonders if you would be disgusted? would you dump him and tell all your friends about what a creepy loser he was? sunghoon can’t help but imagine the worst case scenario, and it would be easy to bury these emotions down the hatchet had it not been for the fact that he’s started to think he is going mad too. 

every time sunghoon comes home from the gym, every time he enters your shared apartment, sweat dripping down his forehead and his water-bottle empty, he swears on his dead grandmother that you start checking him out. it doesn’t help that he's always been attentive either, always needlessly easy at picking up the cues of your discomfort when you're outside in a social space for too long, or being able to tell instantly when you're anything other than the happy go lucky girlfriend he usually sees you as. so, when your lingering gaze begins to trail across his arms a little too long whenever he passes your shared bedroom on his way to the shower, or when your mouth opens and closes to swallow before you're pressing your thighs together subtly each time he moves to wipe himself down each time he’s home— it all sparks something in him. it told him to finally, finally indulge in the nasty thoughts he’s kept tucked away to himself once and for all.

except he doesn’t. because at the end of the day, sunghoon is a gentleman. he pulls open the doors for you with nonchalance written all over him despite his burning ears, and he brings you back your memorised coffee order alongside a few sweet treats when he knows you’re on your period. he holds you close when you’re asleep in bed together, rubbing a gentle thumb against the skin of your cheek because he’s aware that’s what it takes for you to fall asleep, and makes sure you know he’s always going to be there for you in any time of need, even if he’s a thousand miles away. he’s never once made you doubt him, never once given you any reason to suspect he could be anything beyond the perfect, storybook written boyfriend he’s always been. 

until today, at least.

it was a day like any other, a day where you wouldn’t have expected things to take the turn they took at all. you and sunghoon were tangled up in your lavender sheets with your leg thrown over his, the morning sun streaming through the beige curtains you’d picked out on your ikea date together, and no alarms were intact to disturb you as it was the weekend. that’s probably why you both found yourselves in your current situation, your mouths meeting sloppily for short kisses and your boyfriend’s cock buried to the hilt inside you, thrusting ever so gently every other second as he whispered sweet praises to you between the meshing of your lips. the only sounds heard beyond the chirping of the birds outside your window were your soft moans and his low grunts, alongside the quiet noises of your slick dragging against his dick.

“fuck, baby. you feel so good.” sunghoon mumbles, pressing gentle smooches along the skin of your chin and jaw. you reply back something unintelligible, too lost in the euphoria he’s providing you to even form a coherent answer, which only makes him chuckle. he pulls back to admire your figure underneath him, a smile spreading across his lip at the sight of you laid out oh so pretty and pliant just for him. for him. all for his use. his use and his use only. the eventual thought makes his cock twitch inside you, and sunghoon momentarily slows down his movements in fear he’ll accidentally lose control of himself and fuck you into the sheets. his loss of momentum causes you to whine out loud though, large doe eyes blinking up at him in wonder, almost as if asking what happened, which does not make your boyfriend’s job any easier.

“hoonie, faster.” you beg softly, one hand coming up to grip his shoulder as the other bundles up the duvet underneath you. “please, wan’ it so bad.” sunghoon feels like his resolve is on the brink of snapping at your words, and he quickly resumes his previous pace (albeit still slower than what you wanted but better nonetheless) with gritted teeth, trying to think of something, anything that would distract him from the realisation of how fucking small you look under him, or how soft your hand feels resting on his skin. it doesn’t help that the sounds spewing from your lips are so cute, only spurring him on further to do what he longs to. 

“yeah, angel? want it faster? want hoonie to fuck you deeper?” he groans out instead, biting his lip at the sight of you nodding almost instantly to his words. your hole clenches even tighter around him as he speaks to you, and he shudders at the sensation. “shit, don’t do that, princess. might cum too quickly.” he exhales shakily, confused when you shake your head. “don’t care. cum f’me. wanna feel it, please.” you plead almost instantly without thinking, sunghoon’s eyes darkening as the request leaves your mouth. his pace comes to an immediate halt after that, and you make a noise of complaint at the loss of pleasure in your lower region, legs kicking up slightly in protest as you eye your boyfriend who’s currently trying to compose himself above you.

“don’t.. don’t say stuff like that.” sunghoon sighs, eyes closed shut as you cock your head to the side. you’re about to ask him why when he speaks up again. “i won’t be able to hold myself back if you do.” he professes darkly, opening his orbs back up to look deep into yours, his smouldering gaze making you shiver. you involuntary tighten around him at his confession, and he hisses at the feeling, head snapping to look down at you and the blush spreading across your cheeks. 

“i-i don’t.. don’t want you to hold back.” you mutter whilst looking away meekly before he can even comment on your actions. you meet his stare again after a beat of silence, but there’s something dark and sinister swimming in it now, and by the time you can even process what it is, he’s suddenly sheathing himself back into your warm walls, plowing into you with a heightened pace as if this is the last time he’ll ever get to fuck you. your moans tumble out of your mouth before you can even stop them, and you swear you hear sunghoon growl at the way you keen from his movements. 

“yeah? don’t want me to hold back? want me to absolutely destroy this wet cunt with my cock? ruin it for everybody else and mould it to the shape of my dick?” he grunts, a smirk spread across his face as you wildly nod at his words. “what, too fucked out to speak now, baby? where’s that confidence from before, hm?” you whimper at his condescending tone, the noise travelling straight to his core as he curses, continuing to plunge himself deep into you. the tip of his cock brushes against that spongey spot inside you, and you cry out when he angles his thrusts to hit it each time he drives inside your pussy. 

“who knew you were such a slut, huh baby? tell me, how long have you wanted me to spread you open and fuck you like i hated you?” sunghoon pants, tongue lolling out to lick at the sweat gathering on your neck. “s-so long, hoonie!” you mewl in response, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he bites down on your skin. “wanted you to— hnng, wanted you to bend me over and throw me around so bad!” sunghoon laughs breathlessly at your answer. 

“yeah, pretty? want me to use my big arms and toss you onto the bed? you should’ve told me sooner that you were such a whore.” you clench at the degrading name, and sunghoon almost stumbles into you at the sudden jolt of shock. “would’ve done everything you wanted me to. wanted it just as bad as you, did ya know that?” he grits out, pace unrelenting and unforgiving as he proceeds to pound into you. “you’re so fucking small, baby. makes me so goddamn hard every time i think about it. just want to, oh fuck— want to hold you down and make you take it.” 

“do it! do it, hoonie, please do it! make me take it, i wan’ take it for you.” you sob, and sunghoon physically feels the last of his self restrain break in half. he’s far too fucked out now to go back to his old ways, far too gone in the dizziness of making you feel good. his only goal now is to make you cum violently around him, and he’ll stop at nothing to achieve that. “gonna do it, baby. just wait, gonna fuck you so dumb, you’ll be begging me to stop.” he pauses momentarily to grab at the plush of your thigh and tosses your leg over his shoulder, resuming his past actions in the blink of an eye as you cry out at the change. he hits deeper, more harsh this way, and you swear you can feel him battering your cervix with each thrust delivered to your abused cunt.

“fuck, look at that.” sunghoon laughs in disbelief, his eyes fixed on the slightly evident bulge of his cock thrusting in and out of you in your stomach. “taking my cock so well, princess. you gonna cum for me soon, yeah? gonna cum for hoonie and make a mess of me?” he coos at the way you’re drooling, swiping a thumb up to wipe at the spit leaking out of your mouth before sucking it off, the visual of it only making you whine even more. by now, the bed is stained with your leaking arousal, but neither of you care, especially not when he involuntarily moves his hand to press down on your stomach. his movements only cause you to double over in pleasure, and before either of you know it, you’re shaking through an orgasm, thrashing and wailing as tears stream down your face.

“shit, shit, shit! that’s so hot, oh fuck.” sunghoon moans. “you did so well, angel. did so fucking good for me, you deserve a reward, don’t you? don’t you, my baby?” he rambles, and you whine in overstimulation as his thrusts grow more frantic and misplaced when he begins chasing his own release. “get ready, princess, ‘m gonna fill you up. gonna breed you so, so good and make you take it, yeah? you’ll take it, won’t you? take it so good for me like you always do.” by this point, you’re both trembling and whining out loud, sunghoon pistoning his hips into you as he desperately fixes to cum. he can feel the pressure building up, his balls tightening with each harsh thrust he delivers inside of you, and you’re more than ready to feel him ooze out of you, encouraging words spilling from your lips.

“do it, hoonie! do it, please! make me full and fuck it back into me. i’ll take it so good, so good, please baby, please.” you’re babbling by now, too fucked out to think let alone speak, but your words seem to send sunghoon over the edge because by the time you’re even halfway through your sentence, he’s shooting ropes inside of you, painting your walls white with his seed. there’s so much of it that it almost leaks out despite his cock keeping you plugged up, and you watch his beautiful face contort in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed and eyes clenched shut as he continues filling you up. 

“fuck..” sunghoon sighs out once he’s come down from his high, looking down to grip his cock and pull it out slightly only to push it back in when your cunt gushes with his release, causing him to bite his lip at the sinful sight. you whine when he moves back into you, his large arms caging your smaller frame in as he leans down to pepper salty kisses all over your face. “my good girl.” he whispers, slightly collapsing on top of you to catch his breath. his weight on you feels comforting, almost natural as you wrap your tired arms around his back tightly, pressing your bodies together even more than they already are to feel closer and connected to him.

“i didn’t know you were into that.” sunghoon speaks up after a moment of silence, causing you to open your eyes and look at him. he moves so he’s laying on his side, cock still keeping you plugged up despite the awkward position. “into what?” he deadpans at your reaction, and you giggle. “c’mon, babe. you can’t seriously look like that and expect me to not be feral for you.” you smile, and sunghoon huffs out a laugh, spooning an arm around you as he pulls your body closer to his warm one. “still, who knew my girl was so freaky?” you swat at him, and his chest rumbles with laughter, the sound sending an odd pool of warmth flowing through your chest. you both lay there in silence after that, basking in each other’s presence and enjoying the serenity and afterglow which comes from what was quite literally the best sex of your lives. 

“i love you.” you hear sunghoon mumble suddenly, his voice drowsy as he yawns cutely, a large grin spreading on your face at the simple three words which leave him. you reach out for his hand, lacing your small fingers in it before bringing it up to your mouth and pressing a kiss to the back. “love you more, hoonie.” you sigh out in satisfaction, eyes slipping shut slowly as sleep welcomes your tired senses.

you gradually drift off, thoughts filled with sweet dreams of your boyfriend and his precious laughter. 

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

[catsharky]

Are we still gonna get more of the Rolan comic?

I've gotten a couple of asks about this, so sorry to the other people who asked previously and didn't get a reply!

There is absolutely going to be more! The rest of the Rolan comic is completely written and partly roughed out, and I do intend to see it through to the end. Unfortunately this has been a pretty accurate depiction of how 2024 has been treating me:

It's been Flat Stanley-ing my ass.

I will get back to it, it's just been a case where something had to give and unfortunately my comics wound up being the thing I had to put on the backburner 😭

If anyone is curious, I rambled about what's been up under the cut:

The long and short of it is that early this year my partner and I very suddenly and stressfully went from being part-time to full-time parents, in a house that is not big enough to have a family of 4 living in it full time. We also gained 2 additional pets at the same time, bringing us up to a total of 4 (2 cats, 1 snake and 1 hamster).

While that would make it cramped enough, my partner and I have lost a combined total of 5 family members in the past 3 years, and ignoring the emotional toll, we wound up being responsible for the belongings of three of them. Every time we manage to get our house a little bit cleared out, another person dies and we have to find room for another house's worth of stuff!!!

So I have been hanging on to my sanity by a thread cause it's hard to concentrate on comics when I am stuck working in a room where Fortnite or Minecraft youtubers or worse are all but constantly playing in the background.

On top of all that, all of the windows in our house had to be replaced because they hadn't been updated or well maintained since the place was built and the frames were rotting and growing mold. So we got to spend a couple of months trying to tetris our house into a state where the window company could have room to work last week.

And if that wasn't all enough, my little old man of a cat (who is my baby and largely my responsibility) developed keratitis- which despite all efforts continued to worsen over the last several months-, was diagnosed with diabetes, and finally had to have his eye removed this week. I've discovered new stress responses I didn't even know I had thanks to that, and I've been sick with a hellcold during both this and the window replacement 🙃

I've also been unemployed since December, which is both a blessing and a curse because on one hand I think I probably would have had an actual mental breakdown by now if I'd had to deal with all this while working full time, but on the other hand we can't move until I have a job again ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So basically this year has been very AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA and I would really love it if whoever is controlling the game of the sims I'm living in would stop putting me in the torment nexus right about now, please and thank you.

Joke's on them though because I'm both a creature of spite and incapable of giving up, so in the words of Disco Elysium, 'Life gets hard but we go on' and we do!!! 😤

[reidology13]

we could make it better (breaking every habit)

Spencer Reid x fem ex-famous!reader

Summary: After Spencer overcomes his addiction, he seeks out the company and forgiveness of an old flame. cw: talk of addiction, a little sad? mostly fluffy though a/n: technically a part 2 of my fic based off making the bed by olivia rodrigo, but it can definitely be read as a oneshot. maybe they are a bit unhealthy, but they're cute and that's all that matters. also this was so incredibly delayed cause my phone drowned so I'm posting this from my dad's computer

Part 1

They say time heals all wounds, and standing at the door of his past mistake, Spencer hoped it had healed hers the way it had his. It had taken him too long to find her, for his pride to break down enough to ask Garcia to search for her. A few years ago it would have been all too easy, a few years ago she was on the cover of every magazine. Now she was the public's favourite conspiracy theory, the biggest where did she go? post made on some website full of self important nobodies. 

Where did she go? A small house in a small town, a few hours from D.C, just close enough that Spencer had gotten in his car without a second thought the moment he had her address. Maybe it was a slight invasion of privacy, but Spencer had seen much more of her than the house she lived in.

As he lifted his fist to knock, doubt crept in for the first time since the beginning of his endeavour. Was he right to apologise, to show up at the doorstep of the person he hurt worse than anyone else in his life, and say sorry? Sorry. ‘Sorry’ was a puny word that could never hope to mean anything compared to what he had done, how he had used her. But it would have to do, because he had not come all that way to turn back at the flashing neon sign that said ‘CLOSURE’.

Knock, knock, knock. Was three knocks not enough? Knock. God four was too many and the last one had been so separate from the others it was clearly an afterthought that she would think was weird before she even knew it was him on the other side of-

“Spencer?” The door opened, just enough for her face to be visible through the small opening. She was so much more beautiful than he remembered, although he really didn’t remember much from back then. 

“I’m sorry.” Well that was one way to get to the point. He smacked himself internally, scolding himself for being so stupid and inconsiderate, not even saying hello or asking her how she was doing.

“Do you wanna come in? You look like you need to sit down.” She pulled the door open, stepping back to let him in, and Spencer froze. She was allowing him into her home, her space, he who had squeezed her dry, used her up and tossed her aside when he didn’t need her anymore.

Unsure what else to do, Spencer found himself sitting on her couch, the awkward tension between them palpable as he sat silently in regret of every decision he had made in the last week.

“So,” She prompted, gesturing vaguely in his direction, “How are you?”

“Good, yeah, better. You?” He looked around the room, trying to find something that would tell him anything about her life, about her. She was a stranger, really, a stranger that used to be someone he knew. He wanted to know who she was then, on that day, in her house sitting across from him.

“I’m good too. You look better.” He knew what she meant – he didn’t look high out of his mind. The far wall of the room was covered in framed pictures of her and what he assumed were her family and friends. Some were from her childhood, some were taken in front of the very house he was sitting in. 

What surprised Spencer were the photos, though few and far between, where he made an appearance. The Fourth of July party, a bright, sunny photo full of smiling faces. The poor quality of the picture did nothing to disguise the bags under his eyes, nor the dead look in hers. Her birthday, a photo of her blowing out the candles on her cake, blurred from his shaky grip on the camera.

“I don’t remember that one.” He pointed to a picture of the two of them, a dark photo that he nearly hadn’t recognised as himself. The ability to not remember had been his favourite thing back then, now the haze left him with a pit in his stomach.

“Makes sense, you were… you were bad. It was taken right near the end.” 

“I am sorry, really.” Neither of them spoke after that, the silence a warm blanket rather than a thick smog. The apology wrapped around them in a warm embrace, they did not choke on it.

She moved first, after what felt like the most peaceful eternity, slipping her hand around his, holding it in the space between them. He looked down at their joined hands, his gaze slowly drifting up until it landed on the soft smile spread across her face.

“I missed you.” She squeezed his hand gently, although it felt like she squeezed his heart instead, “I missed you from the moment I met you. It’s nice to get you back.”

“I missed you too.” He didn’t know how to explain the way it had taken him a month to get sober enough that reality hit and he realised what he’d lost. At least, he didn’t know how to explain it without having to actually say something about his addiction. He’d always been good at avoiding the topic, skirting around it with suggestions and subtle confirmations. The word ‘addiction’ made him feel weak, like he’d been defeated. He’d talked about his problem once, in a room full of people who had been through the same thing, and even then he hadn’t been able to say it. 

“You’re so strong, Spencer. You’ve come so far.” It was like she could read his mind, see every fear that haunted him and soothe it accordingly.

“So are you, I mean, you got out of everything.” His eyes dropped to his lap in shame of everything that he hadn’t noticed, all of the obvious signs of just how not okay she had been. All that she must have been going through, that he had been too far from reality to know existed, even when it was staring him in the face.

“You say that like you didn’t.” It was a simple sentiment, but maybe that was what hit him like a freight train. It wasn’t some mantra he’d heard hundreds of times, or a complicated conversation with his friends where they tried to talk to him without saying anything that actually mattered.

He got out of it.

“You’re perfect, you know that right?” The way he looked at her in that moment could only be described as reverential, she was the brightest star in a sky that he had never truly seen before.

“No I’m not.” The way she said it like a definite fact made Spencer’s heart start to crack, “Do you know why I have those pictures up?”

Spencer shook his head, “Tell me,” he said the words under his breath, as if they were surrounded by people in the empty room, “I’m not going to find you any less perfect.”

“Hope. I could never get the thought out of my head that you would come back.” She shook her head, gaze locked on the ground like she couldn’t bear to look at him as she spoke. “It was stupid, and then you actually did, and that’s stupid all over again.”

“You’re even more perfect than I thought.” Spencer laughed, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes, happy and sad and something he couldn’t put a name to. She was still holding his hand, he realised, and he used that information to interlace their fingers, placing their joined hands in his spare palm.

“I’m stupid and lucky, that’s what I am.” She snorted, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“No, not stupid.” Spencer drew circles with his thumb on her palm as he spoke, “Lucky, maybe.” 

“We’re gonna have to talk about this, us, you know that.”

“Eventually, yes. Not right now.”

“Not right now.” She confirmed, nodding slowly. They were both there, and that would have to be enough, at least for the moment.

[xoblondie]

Little Dove

Dark! Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary:

TW: this part is mainly story building and there will be a few parts. (I’m thinking 3ish?) Smut in next parts though ;)

A lantern flame illuminated your face as you shuffled between pages of old parchments.

Stuck behind a makeshift desk on a dingy ministry basement floor, the leaking of old pipes was the only thing keeping you company. You had applied to work as reporter for the Daily Prophet, always having a passion for writing, but yet you found yourself as an intern. Your job had you filing others articles, as you sat alone in a secluded office in the corner of hundreds of filing cabinets and bookshelves.

The sound of wings startle you from your work as an owl swoops between the lines of wooden shelves. Dropping a note on your desk and swooping back around the shelves out of site, leaving you alone yet again. Picking up the scribbled parchment you read it and almost jump with joy. The note from your boss giving you an excuse to escape your mildew prison.

Meet me in my office.

- R. Skeeter

You almost trip as you pull yourself out of your desk, not wanting to keep her waiting long. Smoothing your skirt and tucking back your frizzy hair with a scrunchie, you walk through the maze before you to the other side of the room. Before you the golden elevator Gate appears and you step in, taking the enchanted elevator up to Rita’s private office. When you get to her door, you to move your knuckles up to the large wooden door but with a swift motion, you are pulled within.

“No need dear, I knew you were here.” Her mewling voice chimed as she peered up from her green frames. Her bright blonde hair glittered in its pinned curls, accentuating the crimson lipstick she wore. Behind her, her magical quill was scribbling down your every move hastily, as to not miss a single movement you made. She smiles at you as she sets down her own papers and a chair appears with a quick flick of her wand, opposite from her.

“Now have a seat.” You sit down across from her at the chair she conjured, crossing your ankles to appear more mature.

“From what i remember you were a slytherin correct?”

“Yes, most of family is, but we do have some Ravenclaws.” You confirm her statement.

“So I expect you’re quite smart then too?” Rita says with a playful smile. And you sheepishly nod.

“So you may remember Mattheo Riddle? He’s about your age is he not?” You feel your face flush with colour at the mention of your Hogwarts upperclassman, who had been on the front page of the Prophet many times since his time in Hogwarts. The Son of the dark lord and his right hand man. A total opposite image of the older boy you had known at Hogwarts.

“We kind of knew eachother, but he graduated before me and we didn’t talk much.”

Rita gets up and walks over to a shelf picking up a journal and bringing it back over to the desk.

“Oh dear, you’re perfect!” She almost squealed. “I just knew you would be the one for the job.”

“What job?” You shift in your seat, smoothing your skirt again.

“There’s been rumours that lavish death eater parties have been happening, but I think there is more to that story. And obviously they wont let me in. It’s all very hush-hush but you, my Dear, would be the perfect little messenger bird to send in! It’s been the talk of the town for the last week and I MUST be the first person to get my hands on the details!” Rita slides the journal over to you and you open it, skimming through her pages of notes filed with gossip of these events. You can feel her excitement buzzing off of her body. She was like a teen gossiping about her crush with you, rather than your boss.

“It’s been so tight kept that not even a, let’s say a beetle, could get into them without being detected. I can’t even polyjuice myself with the security spells they have! That’s why I need you! Slytherin family, fresh out of Hogwarts, and quite pretty! It’s the perfect mix.” You put her journal down and look up at her as she rambled on. Her hands expressing her words as she paints you her picture.

“So you want me to sneak into a couple parties and tell you what’s happening? That’s it?” Rita stops and thinks for a moment, her emerald dress sparkling in the sunlight of her office.

“Well I am asking you to go into a Death Eater party where any of them could figure out what you’re up to. I mean there is a reason no one knows what happens there Darling.” She eased back into her chair, her red lips curling up again.

“And if I say yes, what’s in it for me?” You cross your arms, waiting to hear out your options. On one hand it wouldn’t be too hard of a task to complete. But on the other, what if you were caught by the Death Eaters. She ponders for a moment, before her eyes sparkle with an idea.

“I’ll publish your work and you can become my own personal assistant.” You feel your jaw drop, failing to hide your temptation. If you were her personal assistant, you could get out of the dingy basement and write your own pieces. Without a second thought you reach your hand over to her and she takes it within her own.

“Deal.” You shake her hand and she jumps out of her seat again.

“Perfect. Let’s get you ready, you have lots to learn before the next one!”

-

If you had told yourself a month ago that you would be standing in front of the Riddle Manor, you would have checked yourself into St. Mungos immediately. The black dress that had been delivered to your office earlier that morning had somehow hugged you like it had been sewn on your body. An alteration done by Rita, no doubt. But what it had in beauty it lacked in concealing your shivers as the menacing estate welcomed you into its jaws.

On the arm of a man from the ministry, you head towards the doors with the rest of the crowd, fleeing from the cold night. He was your ticket in, a pure blood with family ties to the Dark Lord, earning himself entry. All it took was a little wing manning from Rita and he was wrapped around your finger.

Inside the decor was lavish and dark, creating a powerful ambiance around each of the death eaters and their company. Your family was not pure blood, and had never followed the dark lord like other wizarding family’s so this type of glamour made you feel like a fraud. Stuck on your dates arm, you did your best to note down everything, knowing Rita would want every detail.

As per your plan, he introduced you to others and you played up being his ditzy date.

As the night progressed you noticed high ranked Death Eaters slip away into the halls of the manor. You knew they were up to whatever Rita thought they were and knew this was your ticket to getting you big scoop. Your date had long over drank and was sitting amongst his old school friends. You sat off to the side, with the other girls who had no interest in their dates drunken states. You spot another Death eater slipping out and you decide to follow them out, telling your date you were going for some fresh air.

You watch as the man saunters down the hall, not even bothering to check behind them. When they turn the corner, you pull out your enchanted note pad and start mentally taking notes as you scurry down the hall to follow him. Your note pad starts filling up pages with the scribbles of your thoughts as you note everything you saw in the ballroom.

You follow him down a few hallways and he slips around another hallway, as you go deeper in the Labyrinth of the Manor. However as you round the corner, you are met with a dead end. A hallway where the doors had no light peeking through and no sign that anyone had been down there at all. You walk to the end, where the wall stopped your tracks and tried to inspect for any hidden doors. Anything that might lead you to find where he went and what he was doing.

As you take a step back defeated, you could feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You softly whisper the spell to hid your notepad and you feel someone’s hand slink its way around your waist. Startling you but stopping you from turning to see who had made contact with you.

“Who let you in here, darling.” A cold hand covers your mouth, pulling your back against his body with both hands. A muffled shout escapes your lips as you try to pull yourself away. You could feel his body language shift as he grips you tighter.

“Seems like a little birdy got out of her cage.” You could feel his hot breath against your ear. You were a mouse caught in a trap as his arms pulled you into on of the unoccupied rooms you had just passed.

As you are dragged into the room, his hand leaves your face. Turning you and pushing you against the door, your eyes make contact with Mattheo’s hardened features. This was not the boy you remembered, but a grown up and dangerous man.

“Hello little dove.”

A/N: sorry for the mini hiatus with my fics (didn’t stop me whining on my blog though haha) my life literally went to pieces with midterms, being sick and breaking up with my BF. Anyways I haven’t started on part 2 yet but I’ll definitely start that soon. As for my Theo fic, I’m stuck with the smut so that’s awkward lol.

[expelliarmus]

[ttsukiimi]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ F⍣CK HER ‘TILL SHE SORE!

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ He’s not addicted to your cũnt—he swears. He swears even as he’s forced the fourth ōrgasm out of you tonight; and there’s more to come.

★ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ gojo x fem!reader, toji x fem!reader, choso x fem!reader, nanami x fem!reader, smut (mdni), tit play, multiple örgasms, size difference (choso), slight còckwarming (nanami), reader referred to as (princess, baby, doll, good girl)

✧･ﾟ𝓖. 𝓢 ✧･ﾟ

Gojo didn’t even know how he even initially found himself inside you—it was like one second he was cuddling closer to you as his eyes glued to the tv, then another your leg was hoisted over his waist as he jerked his hips into you repeatedly. Was it his fault? Had he begged you to let him put just the tip in? Yes.

But you had given in, and that in its own was your mistake.

“Stay still, princess, wanna give it to you good,” he whispered in your ear, the way his shaky breath fanned past your neck causing goosebumps to bloom on your skin. You nodded, though it wasn’t a promise, and tried to take each passionate thrust of his girth he gave to you.

You were clutching the couch pillow for dear life, whining as you felt euphoria rock through you so pleasurably for the umpteenth time that night. The movie playing had long been forgotten—only serving as background noise, and to Satoru a nuisance since the sounds drowned out your heavenly moans.

He huffed into the skin of your neck, determined to now make you louder, and a hot slap landed on your left cheek, effectively coaxing a loud yelp from your lips. “Mh—!”

And you were sensitive by then, his seed dripping from your battered cunt, your body shivering and thighs quivering, but even then he was set on urging one last orgasm out of you.

Or two.

Hell, he couldn’t even promise it wouldn’t be three. But he just needed to stay inside of you.

Satoru’s hands came up from behind you before they latched onto your chest, groping your tits as he muttered lewd words in your ear.

“You like when I fucking play with these pretty tits, hm?” He kissed your shoulder, and you felt a smile form against your skin as the only thing you could let out was a weak whine—too drunk on his dick to speak. Satoru groaned at the sound, his lips finding your pulse point as he spoke.

“Always so dumb once I get inside you,”

✧･ﾟ𝓒.𝓚✧･ﾟ

Choso doesn’t have an exact idea of why he loves being buried inside you so much; perhaps it’s the way you sound, the way you feel, or the way you look—tears in your eyes and all—but he does know that he’d die happy if that meant he was inside you in his last moments.

And he absolutely adores every minute that he is.

Because with how much your greedy cunt is pulsing around him, and your manicured nails are scratching red lines down his back, Choso thinks he’s really found heaven. Right between your legs.

“Baby, slow down, Cho,” you whined, your sight obscured with tears though you could still make out the image of his sculpted body over yours, and he’s so big compared to you.

Sometimes he might forget that—but could you blame him though? Anyone would forget about some mere size difference when inside your addictive pussy, and he proved to be that anyone.

Choso leaned forward, and in the process his hair fell forward, framing both yours and his face. His hands ventured up your body and found their place on your chest, squeezing the meleable flesh.

“‘S okay, you can take it,” he mumbled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, uncaring of the slight drool dribbling from the side of your mouth. With each thrust the course hairs at his base tickled your clit, stimulating you in a way that felt so good your whole body was quivering with pleasure.

“Just..one more, baby,”

✧･ﾟ𝓝.𝓚✧･ﾟ

Sometimes Nanami finds himself wondering just what you do to him, how you’ve changed him in ways he couldn’t himself in the past years you’ve been together. He can't help but smile when he sees your infectious smile, and he melts when he hears your sweet laugh.

But, above all, you've created an addiction in him. One that he seems to think about every waking moment; even at work, and that’s new territory for him.

What’s worse is that you know. Always teasing him about how pussy drunk he is, how he’d really do anything just to be inside you—not like he’s denying that—but he can’t retaliate with the way the tips of his ears burn pink. So, he’ll prove it.

“Kento, what’re you—“ you cut yourself off with an uneven breath, eyes rolling to the back of your head in tandem with the way he pushes himself into you.

His strong arms are wrapped around you, keeping you in place, but he strangely doesn’t begin to move. The reason being—well, he’s testing himself. His resolve, his patience by not moving a single inch, even while being compressed by your tight warmth.

Which is proving to be a challenge already for Nanami.

“Proving to you that ‘m not—“ he halts, groaning and gritting his teeth as you slightly shift, causing a grin to flourish on your face.

“That you’re not what?” you retort, pushing your hips back onto him, taking him in deeper than he already was. Your hand reaches back and caresses his face, cooing above his lips. “Know you wanna move. ‘M not stopping you either, ken.”

You’re so close to his lips Nanami could move an inch and they’d touch, but he won’t, of course. But…when you’re fucking yourself on his cock, moaning out for him to hear, to tease him, Nanami thinks maybe there isn’t anything to prove.

Maybe he is drunk on your pussy.

✧･ﾟ𝓣.𝓕✧･ﾟ

Toji knows of his slight compulsion towards your pussy. His tendency to always want to be inside is truly something that needs to be studied—because there’s absolutely no way his sex drive should be this significant.

Admittedly, he is aware of his addiction, but will he take any action to try to change his behavior? No. That then becomes your problem to tackle, but you have the perfect solution.

“A what?” Toji mumbled, licking the scar on his lip as he creased an eyebrow upwards in confusion. You were sat on his lap, your arms looped around his neck and you began to speak.

“A Sex ban, Toji.” you attempted to suppress your grin when you saw the confusion on his face only deepen, and a big hand came to cup your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

“‘M not for all your little games today, doll. Got a mission tomorrow and y’know what that means.” he sighed, his free hand holding your waist, slowly sliding to the waistband of your shorts and beginning to pull them down.

“But, really baby, we—you need a break.” you protested, but just couldn’t counter back with the way his rough and thick fingers were already playing with your folds, gathering your essence.

Quickly, his lips were on yours and that shut you up, which gave him time to free himself from his sweats and enter you in one, swift motion.

He wasted no time in holding your hips and bouncing you up and down on his cock, a smug smirk on his lips as he looked at the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure. You weren’t one to talk about a sex ban when you could hardly even let him go on a mission for more than 2 days without complaining about how much you missed him and his magic dick.

“Now ya just be quiet and take what I give you, yeah?” he breathed in your ear as his big hands groped your tits, fingers playing with your hardened nipples. The pleasure coursed throughout your body so deliciously, already causing your thighs to begin quivering and your pussy pulsed around him, greedy to suck him dry.

“Good girl,”

[gutsby]

Make It Stick

Pairing: Old!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel never thought he’d need a vasectomy. Then, one night, he accidentally finishes inside you.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected-peepaw-p-in-v (I’m sorry). Accidental creampie. Age gap. Cumplay. Breeding kink. Ovulation has led me places I wouldn’t go with a gun.

Note: Convergence is a painting by Jackson Pollock. We studied it in high school and I thought it looked like jizz idk

Word count: 4.7k

He should’ve gotten snipped when he had the chance.

Should’ve taken the plunge, faced his fears of needles and fluorescent-washed doctor’s offices like any man his age could have done and gotten the damn vasectomy. Now he was here, nearly two decades older and still none the wiser in this cold, dead world with a pretty young thing like you between his sheets. In lieu of elective surgery, Joel Miller had only to grit his teeth, bite hard, and repeat over and over again in his head, desperate:

‘Don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, DON’T—’

Words like those normally worked. With women that weren’t you, they tended to serve him exceedingly well.

But you were just so tight. And wet. And welcoming. And try as Joel might to pretend like he got laid on a regular basis, the truth was that he didn’t. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t seem to think straight when it came to this fixation he’d developed for you, so, instead, he let his dick do all the decision-making whenever he found himself around you. Ten times out of ten that ended in:

“J-J-Joel—oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck—I’m gonna CUM.”

And that made it worth every last life-endangering drop.

Feeling how your flushed, lithe body came apart beneath his touch. How you needed him. How your eyes grew to half the size of your face and you gaped up at the man, lips parted, like you couldn’t even comprehend how the friction of seven inches could make you feel so good.

If he had it his way, he would’ve loved nothing more than to show you that feeling every night, and twice the next morning if his hip wasn’t giving him too much trouble.

But, at present, the man had bigger fish to fry. Like not becoming a new father at fifty-nine if he could help it.

With the last two fluttering pulses of your heat, and almost going cross-eyed from the pleasure as he felt it, Joel yanked his big, slippery cock out of your body and made a fist around his member as he always knew to do. Tugged and pulled and grunted above you—‘Sweet girl, you’re so fuckin’ good to me’—and watched your tits and your belly for the milky white ropes to ensue.

Strangely, though, your skin stayed the same.

No cum-spray Convergence appeared before him, no opaque and cloudy fluids dribbling down your ribs, nothing. Your stomach was as bare as the rest of you, save for a few beads of sweat, and that was all there was.

Joel shook his dick harder, confused. Beneath him, you were still coming down from your high smiling ear-to-ear and staring blissfully at the ceiling. Your chest rose and fell, rose and fell in quick succession, and while you endeavored to recollect your mind, Joel was losing his.

Where the FUCK was his cum?

In no naked horizontal tango to date had Joel simply…cum without noticing. Shit like that just didn’t happen to men, least of all to ones his age, so when he’d wrung his poor cock like a sodden towel and still saw nothing come out, he felt his stomach turn and plummet inside him.

He dropped to his hands and knees in less than a moment and lowered his head between your legs.

“No, Joel!” you squealed, giggling. Kicking your feet, “Another round and I’m gonna combust, you old perv!”

But Joel wasn’t looking to get his dick wet again. He was inspecting you. Or trying to, anyway. Quickly realizing he couldn’t see a thing in the darkness, he let out a breath through his nose and lifted you off the bed. Your naked frame thrown over his shoulder, bare hip beside his head and your strangled, muffled cry of, ‘What the hell, Joel?!’ hardly seemed to register with the man carrying you off.

You were toted to the bathroom. Joel was about to ease you down on your feet. Then, appearing to change his mind at the last second, he set you onto the sink instead. Your skin bristled with indignation, anger. A little arousal.

“Last time we did it on a sink we broke the faucet,” you reminded him, feigning more dismay than you really felt inside. If anything, you liked it when your fossil-age fuckbuddy switched things up. You were just exhausted.

Heedless of your words, Joel kneeled on the floor and pried your legs apart before him. When you swatted at his silver-flecked head, he brushed your hand away.

“Hold still,” he grunted.

“How come?”

“‘Cause I said.”

How quickly he commanded that tone of a father.

“Wanna sleep,” you groaned, about to roll your eyes.

But you couldn’t deny you liked being doted on by him.

Joel’s touch was gentle. Probing. Spidering down the most sensitive parts of your bare lower half, between your thighs, and slowly coaxing you closer to the edge of the sink. Your breath hitched when you saw his head tilt.

He appeared to be deep in thought—a rare sight for anyone who’d seen Joel Miller in the postcoital state. Most every time he’d blown his load before, the man was dead asleep within ten minutes. His joints could barely hold himself upright after a half hour of plowing the back forty, much less carry you, too, so you were puzzled now.

He thumbed at the seam of your cunt, and you whined:

“Jo-el—”

“Can ya…push, baby?” His eyes flitted up quickly.

“Push?”

“Yeah, just…” With a look you couldn’t quite read, he placed the palm of his other hand on your belly. Then, pressing, “Like this. Like you’re squeezin’ somethin’ out.”

You cocked a brow in muted confusion but did as he asked. You watched his gaze, and it stayed on you.

Or, rather, on that soft and pliant spot between your legs the old man seemed to favor so much. On any other occasion, in a position like this, he surely would’ve been wearing a smile. Tonight, his lips curled into a grimace.

And twisted even further when you ‘pushed’ like you did.

At first you felt nothing. A gentle clench of your walls supplied little more than a sense of having been stretched—no novel concept to you, who’d spent the last three-and-a-half months or so getting fucked by the finest AARP affiliate alive most every night. It wasn’t until you clamped down again that you got the feeling there was something else. Something thick and warm and slow as molasses trickling out from between your folds.

You let out a low, tender, ‘Mmph’ without meaning to; it felt kind of nice. Beneath you, Joel’s face turned grave.

He watched as his spend oozed out of your freshly-fucked hole and thought of vasectomies again.

You were young—too young to know better. Too sweet and naïve to see any peril in spreading your legs for a man like him, in a world like this. And Joel swore he’d be careful. But no post-apocalyptic birth control method was perfect, or even close to it, and it was clear he’d relied too heavily on reflexes to keep him from cumming inside you. Joel was old—too old to be doing this shit.

Too grown and well-versed in sex to be making mistakes as stupid as that. His brow pinched in, and he drew his next breath as if the air around him was growing scarce.

“Joel, what’s—”

“When’s the last time you— you— uh…bled?”

Hardly more in control of his face than the rate his heart went thudding in his chest, Joel winced at the end. This time, you were the one to knit your eyebrows together. You could tell by that tight, discomfited tone he wasn’t talking papercuts, but were still unsure of his purpose.

“Like two, two and a half weeks ago. Why?”

Well, fuck.

Joel buried his face in his hands. You scooted closer to the sink’s edge, thinking little of his cum leaking out.

“Why?” you tried again. Softer this time.

An old, weathered head lifted to greet you. It was bleak.

“You see this?” Joel paused. Swiping his finger through the viscous white substance that had trickled out on the counter, in a puddle now, “Y’know what it means, right?”

You let his look, and the question, remain suspended in air for a second. Then another. Then you shrugged.

“Yeah. But…you’re old,” came your answer at length.

You’re old.

Joel and you both knew as much, but the former wasn’t quite following your train of thought. Still wanting to try and mitigate damages while he could, though, Joel reached for the roll of toilet paper that was fastened to the wall and tore himself a strip. He bunched it up and, reaching for one of your knees to spread you further for him, took to daubing the tissue across your entrance.

“What’s me bein’ old got to do with anything?” A little sharp, then, seeing you flinch when he drew too close to your clit, “‘m sorry, baby, just— gotta get this out of you.”

You made a face but let him continue anyway. Your eyes followed each movement of his hand, and reflexively, the muscles in your thighs tightened. Why bother with this when the man has so many better uses for his hands?

For a second, your eyes fluttered half-shut.

“Maria says old folks are, uh…infertile. Got something to do with a middle pause,” you said, breaths labored.

Joel stopped just long enough to shoot you a look.

“Menopause,” he corrected, all too matter-of-fact, before returning to his work, “is a woman thing.”

What the hell were they teaching in Jackson’s sex ed classes, anyway? Then Joel remembered how his brother sincerely believed that women peed out of their vaginas until he was twenty-three, and the thought of you not knowing the ins and outs of male virility wasn’t the most far-fetched idea in the universe. Besides, sexual health wasn’t exactly the community’s highest priority when the world around it was in a perpetual state of decay and hordes of fungus-faced fuckers ran rampant in the wild.

He curved a tender, careful finger against the ring of muscles framing your sex, trying to absorb more cum, and your grip on the edge of the countertop tightened.

“S-So, you—” You swallowed, throat constricting a little too, “You’re sayin’…men can make babies…whenever?”

You sounded so innocent as you said it. Joel wanted nothing more than to club himself over the head for being the cause of this predicament—of being such an instrumental part of the perceived corruption, as it was.

Meanwhile, your head was swimming in filthier thoughts.

Deeper, Joel, keep…pushing in…dee-e-per. You would have scarcely had more luck giving a fuck what Joel was talking about now than if he’d just said the room was on fire. By his voice, you knew you should’ve been paying attention, but the dexterity of his fingers was too much. He was caressing the first couple inches of your inner walls, attempting to scrape what bits of his release he could get unstuck from the flesh, but it seemed he was succeeding mostly in just turning you on. Rendering you deaf to the drone of his words as you pictured him pushing something else inside your tight, throbbing—

“—whole lotta problems for us if you’re, uh…ovulating,” Joel finished, expression taut and oblivious. You hadn’t heard the first part of that sentence and didn’t care to.

“Ovulating,” you repeated slowly. Indifferent.

Joel carried on without a hitch.

“Kids just ain’t fit for this world. I know you know that.”

You nodded along, not hearing a word.

“And if you’re— if y’ever did consider, maybe…”

Your lungs took an extra sharp inhale when Joel’s fingers coaxed out a warm, sticky glob of his load, and he petted your folds with his thumb. Then let out a breath himself.

“…y’oughta start a family with someone your own age—”

That part snagged your attention. Too swiftly, it came:

“My own age?”

Sighing, in spite of those welts of pleasure so heightened by his touch that the space between your legs began to throb and ache. Hardly possessed of more sense to form words that weren’t just echoes of his own, you tried communication from a simpler source—your foot.

You nudged his shoulder, and Joel looked up.

“What?”

“What?”

Parroting was, evidently, a hard habit to kill. Your toes curled into the bare skin of Joel’s shoulder, and when he re-inserted his finger, you ground your heel even deeper.

“When’s that ev…ever stopped us from doing it before, hm?” you said, tone strained but laced with some humor too, “Thought you liked sayin’ you’d make me a mama.”

Joel’s face flooded pink at the recollection—as a matter of fact, there had been several such memories. Instead of answering immediately, he just averted his gaze again. He anchored one hand to your thigh, and with the other teased out another string of your shared arousal before wiping his finger on the tissue, clinically, and repeating. All he had to offer in reply after was: ‘That’s different.’

And it was, to some extent. Joel wasn’t blind to the sea of uneasy looks that trailed behind you both whenever you walked the streets of Jackson together. How wide the eyes would get when instead of observing some filial display of affection play out before them, as expected, you’d loop your arms around his waist and take his lip between your teeth as you kissed—‘Can we please go home now, baby?’—that Joel was certain he’d been cemented as the resident pervert among everyone in town. Just how much worse that reputation was liable to get if there ever happened to be a round and swollen belly between that embrace someday was unthinkable. Dirty talk was one thing; parenthood another entirely.

This is for the best, became the low, grating refrain in his skull. Why he dug so hard, pushed so far inside the wet, velvety interior of your body without a thought for his own desires in that moment; he had to cull every trace of himself out of there, before he had half a chance to think.

“Baby, hey, hey, no—” Joel cut in a second later, abrupt.

No, no, no. You weren’t thinking either. Wrapping your hand around his wrist, pushing his fingers deeper inside.

Smiling a little, too.

“What are you— no, honey, don’t— you can’t,” Joel’s words splintered in every direction, watching you plunge his own index and middle fingers into the slick and the warmth he’d just been trying to get his cum out of. He looked up and saw your lids were heavy, about to close.

“What are you doin’? This ain’t…no, baby, it ain’t…safe.”

Back to sounding like a dad in no time at all.

“What’s wrong with leaving it in a bit longer? Feels nice.”

You had no idea what you were talking about. Joel pulled back on his hand and, in less than a second, had it freed.

“I just told you,” he huffed, “You’re too young—”

“I’m plenty old, Joel,” you returned, eyes snapping open, “You’ve shown me that more times than I can count.”

Joel was silent, stunned. He rose to his feet as your eyes seared holes into his, and for a second, he was uncertain whether to take a step back or reach out for you again.

“Baby…”

To his surprise, something like hurt surfaced behind your eyes. You set your lips in a tighter line, and your grip on the counter grew firmer just the same. He would’ve taken that move as his cue to lean in gently, slot his body between your thighs, and venture an apology of some sort, when the next thing you did stopped him cold.

Without a word, you slipped your free hand between your legs—eyeing Joel closely, almost scornfully, as you did.

You took your middle and ring fingers and sank them into your cunt. Not intending to let a drop of his spend leak out, you wedged them in as far as they’d go. Joel watched. Gawked. Once sufficiently pleased with the look of shock taking over his handsome, aged features, you withdrew the fingers. You brought them up to your mouth, wrapped your lips around the tips, and sucked.

It was a rare thing to get a taste of you and Joel together like this, so you savored it. You moved your mouth further down to drink it all in, peering up with wide, indulgent eyes and a look that was meant to punish.

Feels nice.

Tastes alright, too.

You’d licked the last bit of this glaze off your hand when your stomach clenched. You knew it would happen. Full as you were, you feared your body still hungered for more. As such, it hardly came as a surprise when next your muscles tensed, and you shifted closer to Joel.

“Maybe I don’t want babies with someone my own age.”

Either one of your knees were nudging his hips. Drawing him in. Joel appeared to waver for a second, unsure, but the look on his face made it clear this was mostly a matter of a delayed reaction. He couldn’t get his legs to move because the rest of him was still in awe. Staring at your lips, where the residue of his spend was glistening, then to your eyes, which were no less inviting, then up to the crown of your head and over it, to fix his stare on the mirror behind it. You watched him watch his own reflection with a look that was both hard and unkind, breathing slow. When he didn’t stir from that position after a minute, you touched a hand to his lower stomach.

And, brushing the heel of your palm against what felt like a hundred grey hairs in the old man’s happy trail—your favorite ones—you smoothed a caress along his belly, back and forth, before moving it left. Your hand came to rest on a mound of muscle and fat sitting right above his hip. Love handles, Joel had remarked one morning with vague distaste. Love handles, you’d repeated, beaming. You held on tightly now, appreciatively, and used your well-loved wall of flesh to pull him closer. As with any beckoning of yours, Joel didn’t have so much as half a mind to resist. He did, however, refuse to meet your gaze while you tilted your hips and spread your legs wider, before winding your ankles around the backs of his legs.

“Don’t you think I’d look pretty?” You pouted up at him. Your folds made a light, warm suction rubbing along the front of Joel’s cock—of course he’d grown hard again, and you could hold him, point him down to that wet embrace awaiting him patiently at the edge of the sink.

Joel cursed under his breath.

“‘Course I do…” he said, voice hoarse, “Y’always look—”

“I mean…with your baby inside me, Joel. Right here.”

As if to put a finer point on your words, you nestled the head of his cock inside the first inch of your body. Joel had to seize the laminate underneath you and grit his teeth to keep from letting out a groan too loud. That tip may as well have been a first-rate conductor of heat, and your warmth the thing that might send him spilling again

“You don’t—” Joel choked out, nearly incensed, “—don’t know what the hell you’re sayin’, baby. What that means.”

In truth, there wasn’t a world Joel Miller could imagine where a girl like you could give more than a passing thought to getting knocked up by him—a man his age. What good would it do? You had your whole life laid out before you like a four-course dinner spread; there was no sense whatsoever in letting the meal go to waste on him.

He communicated as much by moving to pull out.

You met the effort with a push of your own, sinking down another inch or two on his shaft and smiling when you saw his eyes roll back in his head at the dizzying friction.

“I know more than enough, old man—” Grin stretching ear-to-ear as you dug your heels in his ass and tugged him deeper, “—who do you think taught me all this?”

Of course, it had been Joel.

Always, always him—the only one, in fact.

Your walls drew him in like a hug. For once, Joel conjured up the strength to take a look between your lower half and his, and when he did, the next moan was inevitable. It trickled through his lips. Your body looked sublime swallowing a third of his cock, and it was almost as though a maggot had crawled into his brain, chanting:

‘Make her full. Make her yours. Tell any man who’d even think of looking her way she belongs to someone else.’

He couldn’t.

Joel would never be so selfish. Just think of her youth.

But when his gaze drifted back to yours, every thought and any word besides seemed gently to melt away. Beneath him, your eyes were two pools of desire.

“You like this…don’t you, Joel?” Your voice was tiny.

“I do.”

In fact, he loved it.

“Then why can’t we?” Why shouldn’t we?

Minuscule now, the words that reached him barely exceeded a whisper. It was as though the moment itself had drained all fear from your face—and out of Joel, all common sense from his brain—leaving you both to stare at the other with shared, stupid, anoetic looks of bliss. The man who had you beat by thirty-odd years seemed nearly of the same mind, with almost identical ignorance.

Idiocy.

“Just once?” Joel croaked.

Somewhere underneath, unseen, you smiled.

“Just one?” you murmured back.

He sank in another inch. When your walls contracted around him, Joel’s hands found your hips by force of habit and pushed your back against the glass behind it. The mirror was cool, and inside you, Joel was throbbing.

“Once,” he repeated, not thinking too deeply.

“One,” you said, with a world of more purpose.

Joel relinquished the last three inches, and with it, all of his resolve. The handsome, scarred, and plainly greying features all twisted as one, and the expression that you knew too well to mean that the man was feeling good took on the slightest hint of guilt. He gripped you tighter.

“One?” Joel panted. Confused.

He pulled out halfway just to find his home again. Your pearly slick mixed together with his spend, and both coated over Joel’s shaft in a pretty, generous sheen.

“One more of you, I mean.” You sounded too sweet. There was no way in hell you’d actually meant it.

Joel’s cheeks flushed again, but he didn’t stop, either.

“Baby…” he trailed off instead. He pushed in, pulled out, felt your tender little hole make an ‘o’ around his shaft, and then he kissed the edge of your left cheek—maybe to rein in the need in his words before he spoke again: “One’a me takes and I’m givin’ ya fifteen more, y’hear?”

The smile he received told him as much as he needed to hear. He probably wouldn’t have believed it even if you’d said the words yourself. Joel’s thrusts sped up, and as the pleasure distended in the pit of his stomach with the friction and the feel, his words flowed a little more freely.

In disbelief, “Wanna be a mama that bad for me, huh?”

Your grin grew bigger. You nodded your head.

“Make your old man a daddy, is that it?”

Exactly. Senseless as it was, your look said it all.

To have slipped between the grooves and ridges of Joel’s brain and caught wind of even a fraction of the things he wanted to do to you then, a smarter girl would have run. Would have shoved him back out as swiftly as she’d let him in and told him no, that’s gross, and gone home. And, had the grey matter floating inside your own skull not been so completely dominated by primal need and wanting, that’s likely what you would have done, too. Instead, with a head full of lewd, youthful stupidity, you seized the black-grey curls dangling at the nape of his neck and drew him closer. You spread your legs wider.

“That is what you’ve wanted this whole time, right?”

Under his scruff, a muscle tensed as Joel bit down.

That’s all he’s ever wanted.

Let the neighbors talk.

Let them say what they wanted to say—it was probably all true to the point they were trying to make, anyway. That Joel was a pervert, of course. That you were naïve, also true. That you would look too good not to stare in a white cotton frock with a bump underneath, absolutely. These were the ideas permeating your brain and his while Joel took a firmer hold of your sides and brought his nose to rest against yours. With every stab of his hips, he pressed kisses to your soft, parted lips, speaking low:

“That what you want, too, darlin’?” More serious now.

The head of his cock nicked a sensitive ridge inside you, eliciting a whimper, but you nodded. You nodded again, feeling the brush of his stubble at your mouth and your chin, and nodded again when he bottomed out, stuffing you tight. It felt a little more momentous than any other time in the past, now that you were picturing a fullness that wasn’t just him. Him and you: a concrete being to soothe the sting of his absence long after Joel withdrew.

Something to stick.

“Please say it, baby.”

Someone to call yours.

“I want it,” you said, sounding desperate.

A coil was just starting to form in the place you felt him. Drifting up, pulling tight, making your eyes go glossy and wide while they stuck to Joel’s and begged him for more.

“Want what?” He sped up, and his thrusts got sloppy.

“Want you,” you breathed, “Inside me, Joel, please.”

As if predicting your next thoughts, the man lowered his hand to your belly. You hadn’t even noticed the smallest bulge had taken shape beneath the skin. Joel slowed, momentarily, then rubbed the base of his palm against the mound where your body was obliged to make room for his cock inside you. He drew soft, tender circles there and, with the motion, sent stars flying before your eyes.

“Good girl,” he murmured, “Right here?”

“Ri— right there. Right there.”

Joel adored that sound. The soft, elated look, the gentle knoll of flesh in a bump below his hand, the whimpers rolling off your tongue repeatedly, quicker and quicker the more the pleasure inside you continued to build. Joel’s release was coming soon, too. For the hundredth time that night, he silently wished he were a little younger; so he could fill you up once, twice, twenty more times until your insides were stuffed and painted white. As if reading his mind, as he had for you, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Hope our baby has your eyes,” you murmured to him.

It shouldn’t have had such a strong effect—but of course, it did. Joel pictured the small, sweet infant with irises that shone a bit like his, and his stomach caved in.

Tonight, tomorrow, or ten months down the line, he was getting you pregnant. He’d clear his whole schedule for it

“That right?” And now he couldn’t stop the smile as he spoke, leaning even further in, “What about their nose?”

He kissed the tip of yours.

“Hope they get this.”

He kissed either one of your cheeks.

“These too.”

You had to fight back a laugh while his scruff tickled skin. Two deep strokes away from the brink of release and he still somehow always stayed in tune with your needs.

The threat of your peak was perilously near. Joel’s spend and your slick, tender glaze made a chorus of sounds at each thrust, and the deeper he went, the bigger it swelled. Your smiles couldn’t stay for much longer when the feeling inside you both was being amplified like that. Sensing this, Joel took hold of your face and slipped his touch to cup your chin. He made you tilt your head up to him, as if to ask again, ‘Are you sure?’ and when you nodded, his lips twitched again. A fleeting hint of a grin, like he couldn’t be more eager to finish now if he tried.

Holding your face, cock swollen and throbbing and desperate between your walls, he felt a familiar twitch.

There it is.

[mostly-imagines]

So This Is Love

jason todd x fem!reader

aka you show each other what love is supposed to be like

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: section 1: close-call panic attack for j, mentions of ptsd for j // section 2: implied sexual activity // section 3: mild angst w comfort // section 4: implied ptsd for j

He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.

The nightmare wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it did feel particularly vivid tonight. It was more of a memory than anything, though. That same one that plays on a loop in his head throughout the night the more he tries to push it away during the day. It was the last thwack of the crowbar that had him jolt awake in bed.

You shift in your spot next to him, opening your eyes to see his rattled state. If he’d been in a clearer frame of mind he would’ve lied to you. He would’ve expertly leveled his breathing and told you everything was fine and to go back to sleep.

But instead, he looks over at you with wide eyes, chest heaving and shaking like he might start hyperventilating at any moment.

You shoot up from the bed, instantly on alert. This isn’t the first time he’s had one of these nightmares around you, so it’s not hard for you to guess where this is coming from.

“Jay? What’s—what do you need?” You know better than to try and touch him unprompted right now, you’ve panicked enough yourself to know that sudden contact only makes it worse.

“I—I can’t, I—” Now he really looks like he’s about to lose all control of his breathing.

You sit up further, moving onto your knees. “Here, let me—can I see your hand?” you ask gently, holding your own out.

He extends it to you without question, a tiny act of vulnerability that he couldn’t have dreamed of doing in this state before he met you.

You flip his hand over, palm-up and start tracing lines over it in the moonlight. You’re looking at his hand quite intently like there’s something very important on it. It’s enough to make him question what the hell you’re doing. 

“I can read palms.” You tell him, simply. 

“What?” His voice almost breaks, like he’s right at the edge of tears. 

“Yeah, my friend taught me. I can tell the future and everything.” You look up at him, fingers not stopping their trailing. “Do you wanna hear yours?”

All he can do is nod.

You smile and start to inspect his hand carefully, tracing over calluses and a few tiny scars. You draw your finger across the short, deep line parallel to his fingers.

“This one…see the way it curves upwards right there?” He nods. “That means you’re very resourceful and ambitious. Like a leader.” His breathing starts to slow as he watches you, trying to focus on what you’re showing him in the dim light from the window.

“And this one,” you trace the line that curves downwards in the middle, “This one says that you’re strong and stubborn, which I can confirm,” he huffs out a laugh. It’s little but it’s genuine. “But it also means that you’re resilient. You’re built to overcome things and bounce back even stronger because of them. Which I can also confirm.”

He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He takes in a deep breath, watching you draw patterns across the base of his palm.

The sensation soothes him in a way that he frankly didn’t know he could be soothed. He figures he usually can’t, except when it’s you. He tries to match your breathing, syncing up with you. If anyone else tried to get this close to him when he was on the verge of a panic attack they’d get punched, at best.

But you…you always know how to help him. He’s considered in the past that he did something really right somewhere down the line and you were sent to him as reward. He’d racked his mind for hours of every good thing he’d ever done, trying to find one that could explain your presence in his life. For anything that could explain why he deserved you. He poured and poured over every memory he could dig up but couldn’t find any good he’d ever done that surmounted to a single piece of the good in your heart.

There was a time when he would’ve thought—when he did think that you were only in his life to be taken away as soon as he felt safe. That would certainly be in line with previous experiences. But you showed him quickly that you have this way about you…it makes those loud thoughts in the back of his head shut up and just listen. Listen to your words, your breathing, your footsteps, your laugh…anything he could. Because it turns out, when he listens, he feels safe. 

He’s quiet for a long time, contentedly watching you work. He notices that at some point you’d stopped tracing the lines and began drawing designs instead. 

He breaks the silence after several minutes, softly commenting, “You don’t know how to read palms.”

“No, I do not.” 

But you continued to leave your invisible art on the palm of his hand just the same, both of you taking comfort in the sound of the other's breathing and the soothing feeling of each other’s skin.

The radio plays lightly in the background, surrounding your night with soft ambience. You’re working at the cutting board with tomatoes as Jason leans against the counter next to you, having just finished getting the pasta set up on the stove.

His hands find your hips, resting them there as he watches you work over your shoulder.

“Watch your thumb.” He comments when the knife gets a little too close for his liking.

You shrug him off, “I know how to do it.”

He eyes the way the knife stutters as you cut through the tomato, slicing through not very cleanly at all. “Doesn’t look like it.”

You ignore him, elbowing him gently in the abdomen. He’s joking, but he’s not. The skill level you’re displaying is only above Bruce and slightly below Tim, which is not great.

“Will you let me do it?” he asks you when he realizes there’s going to be no improvement. 

“Fine.” You relent with faux annoyance. 

You switch over to the stovetop, keeping a careful eye on the pasta as it cooks. It’s quiet for a moment as he works, chopping with much more efficiency than you had.  

“You didn’t have to stay here tonight, you know.” You say quietly, still intently watching the stove.

In spite of the music, your low volume does nothing to faze him as he continues his actions, “Why wouldn’t I?”

You stir the contents of the saucepan around. “Well, I know Roy wanted you to go out…”

“Not missing much.” He mumbles, opening up the above cabinet to get out plates.

You lull your head to the side, “Come on, he’s your best friend.”

Jason frowns. “He’s not my best friend.”

You turn your head towards him, “No?”

He meets your gaze, frown consistent. “No. You are.” He says it like he’s confused that you don’t know that. 

“Oh.” You smile, “You’re my best friend too.”

His eyes soften at that, a light smile gracing his lips. He knew that, and he knew you’d say it, but hearing it out loud just…does something to him.

You flick the stove top off, prompting him to on instinct reach for the Marinara jar and crack it open for you. He hands it to you and you accept with a smile, twisting it open the rest of the way as you turn back to the stove. The jar sputters as you open, spitting out sauce.    

“Oh, shit.” You hiss, when the splatter hits your shirt.

He takes one glance at the mess on your shirt and pulls his own shirt off his back. He’s tugging yours off just as fast, replacing it with his. You’ve barely processed what happened as he scans your body, eyes lingering on where his shirt stops at your thighs. “Can you wear this to bed tonight?” He asks, hands running over your waist.

You laugh, “Really?”

He meets your eyes, face serious. “Yes.” He squeezes your hip, “You look good.”

“In your shirt.” You say with a knowing smile.

“In my shirt.” He confirms.

You turn back to the stove to dish out the salsa, his hands skimming around your thighs as you do. He watches you as you work, though rather than watching your hands he’s fixated on the size of his shirt over you and how fucking good you look right now. 

“Or…” He sweeps his eyes over your legs before looking back up at you again. “Did’ya turn the stove off?”

You tilt your head at him, “I did…?”

He grins at you, lifting you up by your thighs til you’re a head above him. “Good.” He maneuvers you over to the counter, setting you on top. He brings your wrist up to his mouth to press a delicate kiss before dropping to his knees.

You’ve been laying in bed for at least three hours, bordering on sleep but never quite falling in. You and Jason had a little spat, though nothing insurmountable, it was still the biggest fight you’ve had to date. You’d tried going out (at night) to see your friend that was having a hard time, and yeah, you should’ve told Jason you were going. It was only five blocks, give or take, but in Gotham at eleven o’clock at night, it’s a risk to say the least.

You should’ve told Jason, you know. But he wouldn’t have let you go or would’ve insisted on putting hold on patrolling to accompany you. You always feel bad when he does that—people could be getting hurt somewhere because you needed your boyfriend to walk you down the street. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter in the end because he caught you red handed before you’d even made it a full block away. Of all the nights for him to come home early, it had to be this one.

He dropped down from the rooftop behind you and scared the absolute hell out of you, and you didn’t even have time to be relieved that it was just him because he was on you in a flash. 

“What the hell are you doing out here?” His voice was hard through the modulator, a rare tone for him to use with you.

“I just—my friend—” he sounded tired and angry, sure signs that he’d really not had a good night so far which was probably all the more reason that you shouldn’t have been out by yourself in the middle of the night.

“What are you—no! Go home. Now.” You would’ve, you really would’ve, but your friend called you crying about her boyfriend cheating on her again and she needed the in person support. 

“Ja—” You’d cut yourself off, “It’s down the street, it’s fine—” He dropped his shoulders in a huff and faced you dead-on. You didn’t need him to take his helmet off to know exactly how he was looking at you.

He dropped down and hooked his arm around the back of your legs, lifting you off the ground with no discernible effort. “Wha—”

He started walking before you were even fully planted on his shoulder, arm wrapping around your legs to hold you in place. 

“Hood! I am so fucking serious, put me down!” You swatted at his back and struggled in his grip, though in the back of your mind you knew it was a pointless effort. Even if you were a match in size, whatever mood he’d been pushed in was enough to guarantee that you had no chance. 

He ignored you, not even pretending that you were giving him any difficulty with your squirming. He marched you back down the block to your apartment, not stopping until you’re outside your door. He set you down in between him and the entrance, digging into his pocket for his key.

He kicked the door shut behind him, finally letting you go. He wordlessly grabbed one of his spare guns and two cartridges of ammo from inside the closet by the door and turned back to you with a firm stance. “Stay here.”

You immediately tried to push past him again, at that point more angry about him dragging you back here than about having to duck out on your friend. He stopped you, holding you by the arms, which led you to respond by raising your voice at him, “Jason!” 

But he didn’t waste any time letting you know how it is, “I will lock you in this fucking apartment. Stay. Here.” Him cursing at you like that was very rare and not a particularly good sign, so through your anger you’d made the decision that it was better to relent, for now. Your posture dropped and you frowned at him resentfully, a visible cue that you were giving in without you having to say it. 

He stayed true to his word and locked the door on his way out, though knowing you could easily unlock it from the inside. You’d trudged into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you.   

Now you lay on Jason’s usual side of the bed, partially because you do miss him, partially because the bed feels a little less empty when you can’t see all the empty space. You know he was just trying to keep you safe after what was probably a rough start to the night, so you feel less than great that you’d yelled at him.

Your dwelling over the memory is interrupted by a quiet creak of the bedroom door. You blink up at him blearily, “Jay?” You sit up, furrowing your brow. You didn’t even hear him come home. “What’s wrong?” You figure he must be hurt to come in here—it’s not unknown for him to sleep on the couch if he feels like he did something wrong or upset you.   

Your eyes attempt to adjust to the darkness, scanning over him for any injuries. He’s out of his armor and in his regular clothes which means he must have showered already. And you know from dozens of nights patching him up that he always tends to his injuries before showering.

This leaves you confused, as you look up at him, waiting for an answer. “I can’t…I don’t want to sleep without you.” He whispers, eyes on the floor. 

You shuffle back into your usual spot near the wall and hold your hand out to him expectantly. You’re still a bit cross with him, but you miss him too much to care right now.

It takes him a second to move, but he eventually lingers away from the door and makes his way to the bed. He takes your hand as he climbs onto the bed, letting go only when you lay down after him, staring up at the ceiling next to him. 

You weren’t entirely expecting him to wrap his arms around you and tug you into his chest. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’d assumed he would lay on his side and you on yours and that would be enough for him to fall asleep with. Instead, he tightens his arms and buries his face into the crook of your neck. You lay there in silence for a couple minutes, both thinking.

“You’re mad.” He mumbles into your shoulder after a while. You know he feels badly about the dispute, you knew it while it was still happening. As hard as he tries, he’s not very good at hiding his emotions. Not with you, anyways.

You shrug slightly. “Barely. I’ll get over it. This is more important.”

He picks his head up to look at you, “I love you. You know that?”

You wiggle out of his grip a bit, making him frown. You use the new space to flip over to face him, before placing his arm back around your waist. You peek up at him, looking him in the eyes, “I do. You know I love you. Even when we fight.”

He looks at you like he’s a bit thrown off by your words. “I’m sorry. It was just…it was a rough night…I—I’m sorry.” He tells you dolefully.  

You shake your head, frowning. “Don’t be. I should’ve texted you.”

“It—yeah. Please. I just worry about you.” He looks so sad and it makes you feel somehow worse.

“I know,” you whisper, “I’m sorry.”  

“Don’t be.” He kisses your forehead, not moving away after.

You feel like you can finally relax and your tense body doesn’t take long to slacken in his hold. Soon after, he does the same, both of you closing your eyes. You feel your heart slow and your mind starts to find a space of peace.    

Jason didn’t get it at first.

Honestly, he didn’t really realize that you noticed things about him that even he didn’t see.

Your neighbor was having their place remodeled and you knew there would be construction going on near your apartment all day.

Jason didn’t really care, planning to bury his head under the pillow and trying to sleep through it. You however, seemed very adamant about getting out of the apartment that day. You’d left hours before the construction crew had even gotten there, telling him it was a nice day out.

It was an alright day, but he let you have your way.

You held his hand as you walked down the street, looking into shop windows and commenting on things you think he’d like.

You led him into a book store excitedly, telling him about how the author he’d been binging had just published something new. He didn’t even know that.

You were browsing the sections, flipping through books as you went. You peered across the shop at a kid holding an absolutely massive pile of books, who was clearly struggling to keep them in his arms.

His mother tried to help him but he shook his head and strided away independently, albeit very slowly. The weight of the books though, did get the best of him, and you could tell by the quivering in his arms that he was going to drop them.

“Loud noise.” You said quickly, seemingly out of the blue. Jason turned to you, confused, before seeing the stack the books splat flat onto the ground. It was indeed a loud noise.

He tilts his head at you, though you’re still busy watching the little boy as he throws his head back in frustration.

“What was that?”

You look at him, “He dropped his books.”

“Yeah, I saw. But why—”

His question gets cut off by the kid bursting into tears, wailing. You turn back to look at him, your gaze getting caught by the new book you’d been telling him about. “Ooh!”

You grab his hand and pull him over with you, smiling widely when you have the book in your hands. The sight of you makes him feel so warm so fast that he forgets about the odd interaction all together.

A couple hours later, you sit outside a cafe and eat lunch together, his back to the road, you sitting diagnal to him.

He’s telling you about the shit Damian got in trouble for at school last week, holding your hand with his right hand and eating with his left.

“He thinks he’s not going to get expelled for pulling shit like that every other week, it’s ridiculous.” He says, tossing his napkin down on the table.

Your smile is wavers as your eyes move past his shoulder looking down the block before widening, “Car—”

The sudden noise startles him enough to make him visibly jump, hand flying to where his holster would be. He looks over at the fender bender, shoulders relaxing.

He turns back to you to find your eyes looking far more worried than they should. You seem to be scanning his face, looking for something and he’s about to ask you what’s wrong when it sinks in.

He does get scared by unexpected loud sounds, doesn’t he? He never really thinks of it until it happens, but his mind is trained to expect gunshots or crowbars making impact.

It doesn’t happen often, but it noticeably takes a little piece out of him when it does.

“You…” he tries, but falters. He’s not even sure he’s processing this right.

He’s never seriously tried to fathom that you love him half as much as he loves you, though love doesn’t feel like a strong enough word. He lives and breathes for you, you’ve become a lifeline he’d been stranded without for most of his life. But now you're here and you’re everything, you’re in his head all the time, in every emotion he feels.

He thinks he’s here for you, that he was brought back from the dead because of you. You can’t possibly understand how much his heart is full of you, he doesn’t understand it himself.

He knows you love him, he’s gotten that through his head. But he can’t get a grasp on the idea that he’s equally matched in the who loves who the most battle.

Do you really care that much about him to go out of your way to keep track of things that might startle him? He knows there’s a million things about you that are in the back of his mind at any given time, but surely you don’t operate that same way with him?

Do you?

There’s this burning in his heart that aches and it only gets stronger when he sees you looking at him like that. So genuine. With care, with love.

He squeezes your hand, “I love you. More than anything.”

The look on your face sinks back into that sweet, adorable look that he’s so used to and it makes him want to scream.

You smile that bright smile and it sends his heart rocketing into oblivion. “I love you.” You squeeze his hand back, “More than everything.”

He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.

[fastandcarlos]

Bump Cuddles : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: watching you pregnant is a dream for max, especially with your bump there on offer for him to always snuggle up to

His eyes landed on you as soon as you walked into your bedroom, Max’s smile turned up as he watched you close the door behind you, knowing that was you for the night. You placed your phone down before perching on the edge of the bed, slowly rolling onto your back and stretching out. 

As you reached up, the material of your pyjama shirt lifted up, revealing your babu bump. “Look at you,” Max chuckled, instinctively moving towards you and placing his hand on your exposed skin. 

“This thing is lethal these days,” you chuckled, relaxing under the pressure of the warmth of Max’s hand. “I could do some serious damage if I wanted to with this thing.” 

“Tell me about it,” Max chuckled, all too familiar with being on the receiving end of you barging him forgetting how much space you now needed to get around. “Just think, there’s only a few more weeks to go until you won’t have this anymore.” 

“I can’t wait,” you laughed as Max turned his frame around so that his head was resting just beside your bump too. “The bump might look nice, but it’s the most impractical thing in the world.” 

With your bump growing day by day, you were finding it harder and harder to manage. Max was struggling to sit back and watch you, knowing that there was very little that he could do to help you. He did as much as he could, more than enough as far as you were concerned, but he still felt as if he could do more. 

“This is the stage that I’ve looked forward to the most,” Max admitted, brushing his hand over the surface of your bump, pushing your shirt up. “It’s so cuddly and the size of it too, no matter what you’re doing, or wearing, it just looks incredible.” 

As your bump became more prominent, Max’s excitement grew. He was glued to your side whenever he was around you, his hands couldn’t get enough of feeling your bump and the little movements of your son who was wriggling around inside. 

“Do you need anything?” Max asked you, realising that you were settling for the night. “Can I get you anything to make you more comfortable?” 

Your head shook in reply to Max. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt properly comfortable, but you were settled at least for now. Max was used to you being pretty restless, happy to do whatever he needed to do to help you whenever you needed to shuffle. 

“Let me know if you change your mind,” he added, reminding you once again that he was there for you, offering you a sympathetic smile as your eyes met his. 

Your hand came down, brushing through Max’s hair as he made himself comfortable to lay down beside your bump for a little while. “I think he must know that you’re home as he’s been kicking around a lot more than usual today.” 

“Has he?” Max excitedly asked, quickly moving his hand around wondering whether he could feel one for himself, having missed the feeling of your baby’s kicks during his weekend away racing in Qatar. 

You could only chuckle at the excitement on Max’s face, searching and searching for that sweet spot. He made no secret of the fact that feeling your son’s kicks was his favourite part of your pregnancy, every single time excited him as if it was the very first time he’d felt it.  

“What are you going to cuddle when the baby arrives?” You teased. 

“I might actually have to cuddle you again, not your bump.” 

When you first fell pregnant your bump baffled Max, he couldn’t believe how you had a little human growing inside. Now though, he couldn’t imagine the last few months without it, cuddling up to it had become a habit for Max without him even realising he was nearing it most of the time. 

“Sometimes I feel as if I’ve forgotten what you look like without your bump,” he laughed, continuing to move his hand around in search of a sign. 

You nodded in agreement with Max, having forgotten what your feet looked like having been unable to see them for quite a few weeks. “I think my body will be glad when what’s growing in the bump is on the outside, not the inside causing me any pain.” 

“Are you in pain now?” Max nervously asked, immediately panicking. His doubtful eyes looked at you as your head shook, but trusted you all the same. 

Max had always done a good job of taking care of you, but your pregnancy had introduced you to a whole new world with max. Protective was an understatement to describe how he treated you from the moment he found out you were pregnant. 

“I’m scared you know,” Max suddenly whispered, “our son will be tiny, I’m scared when I cuddle him out of your bump I’ll squash him or something.” 

You couldn't help but laugh as Max spoke, “you’ve had plenty of experience holding babies and you’ve managed not to squash any of them.” 

“But they weren’t mine,” he added, “I’ll give them an extra cuddle knowing that he’s mine.” 

Your hand continued to brush through his hair, “trust me, if you look like you’re going to crush our son then I’ll be sure to let you know.” 

The way his mind worked fascinated you, especially as Max seemed to overthink everything. He wanted every little thing to be perfect and would stop at nothing to make sure that it was. Every possible scenario had been considered by Max, even those that seemed completely out of the ordinary. 

“I think once the baby is here you’ll forget about me,” you joked, “you’ll only want to cuddle our son rather than cuddle up to me.” 

Max’s eyes were wide as he tilted them up to look at you. “There’s no way that I’ll ever forget about you, with these broad shoulders I’ll be able to hold the two of you without any problems at all.” 

“You know I’m only messing with you,” you replied, surprised by how serious Max was as he responded to you. 

“I’ll cuddle you more than ever once the baby is here,” Max assured you, moving his hand from your bump to rest against the top of yours. “I’ll cuddle you forever in appreciation for all that you’re about to put your body through in order to make our family complete.” 

As the two of you fell silent, you quickly grabbed Max’s hand placing it against your bump. Luckily for him, you got it there just in time as your son kicked out exactly where the palm of Max’s hand rested. 

“There he is,” Max chuckled, snuggling in closer to your bump, savouring the feeling of your baby letting you know that he was there. 

“That’s the hardest he’s kicked all day,” you breathed, taking a deep breath through the discomfort. “Obviously he’s very happy to have his daddy home too.” 

Max’s eyes studied you closely, “only a couple more weeks and you’ll be able to rest in peace again sweetheart, without all these interruptions.” 

“Are you forgetting the fact that we’ll have a screaming baby instead who will happily keep us up all night long Max?” 

“Let’s just forget about that for now,” he sniggered. 

Your head nodded in agreement, “I don’t know about you, but I’d quite like to make the most of these last few weeks with our bump.” 

“Me too,” Max smirked, “I’ve not got long left to cuddle this bump of yours, and I’m determined to make the most of it.” 

˗ˏ�� 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[freyaphoria]

Hello! Since I can't save the writings in my drafts and your request is currently stuck in my drafts, I have to post it this way. I hope you can see your request T_T By the way, I wrote this 4 times, and the universe prevented me from writing it. Normally it was over 2k words, but most of it was deleted and I forgot what I wrote. Anyway, Love u!♡

Look Like a Freak

tw: nerd!Seonghwa x fem!reader, oral(giving mentioned, receiving), squirting, slapping, fingering, vibrator using, degradation, bondage, overstimulation

wc: 1.5k

taglist: @aim-blossom @matzrionette

“Seonghwa, are we really going to do it here?” It was too late to ask now. He made an approving noise as he abused your pussy between. To your surprise, he could hear you and respond. Normally, after tasting you, Seonghwa would be pussy drunk and wouldn't hear or see anything.

Seonghwa's room was the most virginity room you've ever seen. There were more Star Wars figures and Legos than you could count. And what is it? On the top shelf of the display case, on top of the Star Wars legos, there were colorful house legos and animals next to them, which you might think were related to animal crossing which might attract the attention of 5-year-old children.

You and Seonghwa went to the same university and met at the dance club. When you first met him, he was very quiet, buried in his book with a book by an unknown author in his hand and he was wearing the metal-framed glasses he was currently wearing, not communicating with anyone. Even though most people avoided communicating with him, you felt his potential in his eyes under those big glasses. You had initiated the first communication and asked him something about the star wars lego keychain hanging on his bag, and before you knew how the things had developed, he had pulled you into the back storage and made out with you. After a while, you started fucking after every dance lesson and became addicted to each other. You were nothing but a fuck buddy, but you'd still meet up at his house every once in a while to build Legos together like cute couple, and as you can imagine, your night would end up in his bed, trying to recover, with his cum dripping down between your legs.

Same thing today, you met at his house to play his favorite game, the two of you lying in bed while Seonghwa was playing Animal Crossing on his Nintendo. But you had made him horny without knowing why, and Seonghwa stopped his game, which was an unexpected move from him, and started eating you. Animal Crossing, where you played with Seonghwa, was still on on the TV and calm music was playing.

"Can you at least turn off that game? It's ruining the whole mood-" You were cut off by Seonghwa shoving your panties into your mouth. "Don't tire that beautiful mouth of yours by talking, you will be tired enough when I put my dick down your throat."

Who would believe that someone as nerdy as him could make you this wet? If you told your friends who knew him, they would all think you went crazy. But right now, you were in his bed with your legs wide open and you were dripping, Animal Crossing in front of you, Star Wars figures next to you, and a nerd Seonghwa losing himself between your legs.

When Seonghwa started using his fingers as well, you realized you wouldn't last long. He was eating you out and fingering you so professionally that you were seeing stars every time, your legs shaking uncontrollably and squirting on him. And so it was, the moment you felt his fingers inside you, curls them up and abusing your sweet spot while his tongue stimulates your clitoris, you couldn't hold back that ball that was growing in your belly any longer and you came into his mouth. Your voice came out as a muffled moan through your underwear in your mouth. "Oh but I couldn't hear you clearly, looks like we're going to do it again." He pulled the fabric from your mouth and kissed you hungryly. Since he still didn't remove his fingers from you, you continued to spasm uncontrollably around his fingers and began to squirm from the overstimulation.

"What is that? You got tired a little early for a slut like you. Open your legs." As you tried to close your legs, Seonghwa forced them open. When you closed them again, you were startled by the sound of him slapping your thigh hard. "You want to be a brat? Okay then." He let go of your legs and headed towards his desk. He opened his drawer, took the rope next to a lot of Animal crossing cards, closed the drawer hard and turned towards you. You held back your laughter when you saw the colored cards. He adjusted the thin metal-framed glasses that fell on the tip of his nose, found the end of the rope and started wrapping it around your wrists.

"Hwa, I'm getting rope burns, haven't you found that furry handcuff yet?" He tied the rope tightly around your wrists, he bent your leg towards you and brought your ankle closer to your hands and tied the rest of it to your ankles. "No I couldn't. And if you stop squirming, you won't get a burn." After tying your other side in the same way, he checked its strength and made sure that it was not loose. He looked at you, his masterpiece, from head to toe, then he spanked your pussy that you had forced open and exposed for him, and he moved towards your upper body. You let out a small scream at the sudden feeling of pain. He tied your upper body by looping the rope around your chest and tying it over your arm; so it stabilized your arms and prevented you from closing your legs.

"Now, what should we do with you?" You felt even wetter with the feeling of being restricted and having all your control in his hands. The feeling of emptiness inside you was becoming unbearable and if he didn't fuck you soon, you would start crying and whining from frustration. "Just fuck me already."

The left side of his mouth lifted up and laughed slyly. A deep chuckle escaped his throat. "No no, I won't give you what you want that easily." This time, he opened the drawer where he kept your toys under the previous drawer and took out the pink vibrator with remote control. When you think about what he did to you with it, your heart starts to lose its rhythm and the adrenaline in your body begins to tickle your pussy waiting to be filled. The vibrator that he play with you for hours and eventually makes you squirm from overstimulation and cry and beg him to stop...

"How about this? No coming until I finish my new lego set. If you come, I won't fuck you tonight. Understood?" "Wait, at least let me suck you." He moved the toy in his hand over your folds before inserting it inside you, collecting your wetness on the toy. "Are you that much of a cock slave? Is there a day you don't spend without sucking me? Can't that little belly of yours do without taking my cum?" Your face turned red because of his dirty words. Yes, there wasn't a day without sucking him, but there wasn't a day without him eating you either. You were considered equal in every way. After all, you were a fuck buddy and that was your purpose. "Please just let me take you in my mouth" He balled up the panties he had just taken out of your mouth and put it back into your mouth. "Just deal with it for now. You can do it, right? It shouldn't be too hard."

After laughing sarcastically, he moved the vibrator over your folds for the last time and put it inside you. You gasped at the sudden feeling of being filled. The fact that you didn't know when Seonghwa would start the toy and when he would stop it made you nervous and excited. After licking his fingers, which got wet because he inserted the vibrator inside you, and tasting you again, got up from you and took the lego bag next to his wardrobe and placed it on his desk. "Which one do you think I should do?" He took out the Lego sets one by one from the paper bag and showed them all to you. The hilarity of your current situation and the Animal Crossing music playing in the background almost made you laugh. You were thankful for the fabric over your mouth that prevented you from laughing.

"Oh that's it!" He took out the 1394-piece Ghost & Phantom II set from the bag and placed it on the table. When he took the remote control of the vibrator and started to turn it on at medium level, you first lost your breath and started to squirm in your place. But he tied the ropes so tightly that you couldn't move much.

"Remember, no coming until I finish this set." He opened the box and placed the contents on the table, looking at you who began to tremble slightly. “You look like a slut.” And you look like a freak you thought.

[babyleostuff]

― BROKEN CAMERAS

𝜗𝜚 THEME: fluff, domestic vibes, absolutely whipped kim mingyu 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: dad!mingyu x mom!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 1.2k

⦗💌 ⦘in which your little girl wants to take a picture of you and mingyu but drops the camera she stole from him in the process

„i was thinking,” mingyu murmured into your hair and turned the volume of the tv down, „that we could go to the farmer’s market tomorrow. since i don’t have any schedules, y’know.” 

you peeled your eyes from the screen and looked up at your husband from where your head was resting on his chest and nodded immediately, as if you’d ever say no to a day out with him and your daughter. „sounds perfect,” you sighed happily and fixed the blanket that mingyu wrapped you in some time ago. „maybe we’ll manage to find some vintage frames to match those in the living room.” 

he hummed and brushed his nose against your cheek. „just… this time we have to avoid the section where they keep the plushies.” 

ah yes, the plushies. 

your little girl’s current hyperfixation and your husband’s cause of nightmares. not that you minded, there was something endearing in a 6 foot something man sitting in a circle of bears and unicorns drinking tea from a miniature teacup. 

you smirked and lifted your head. „but she’ll be devastated, honey,” you fake-pouted.

she wouldn’t though, not really. your little girl has had her dad wrapped around her little finger since day one and she was a very smart kid, so figuring out how to get her dad to do anything for her wasn’t that difficult. she’s had the puppy-eyes technique figured out for a long time now, which… she used a lot to her advantage. 

mingyu groaned and lowered his head, bumping it against your shoulder. „there’s literally no room left in her bedroom. last night, when i was kissing her goodnight, i tripped over at least three of them!” he whined.  

that was very much true. you spent fifteen minutes this morning trying to find one of her shoes amongst the mess of unicorns of all shapes and sizes, and all you found in the end was a sock that you had been looking for for the past month. it didn’t help that soonyoug bought her tiger plushies every other week, not to mention seungcheol who loved spending his money on your daughter for some reason. 

but you couldn't help but throw your head back and laugh at your husband wholeheartedly. „gyu, you’re capable of tripping over air, it doesn’t count in your case,” you giggled and ran your fingers through his messy hair, pushing back the few curly strands that fell over his eyes. “besides, she’ll find a way to get those plushies either way. it’s not like you’ll ever say no to her.”  

you could feel your husband’s pouty lips against your collarbone as he said, “you’re right. but it’s unfair that mr.unicorn gets all the cuddles now. even that ugly monkey that looks like it had been through a car crash and a bad lip injection is more loved than i am.” 

heavens, sometimes you wondered who the real baby in your family was. 

“gyu, listen to me,” you took his face in your hands and peeled him away from you, “stop overreacting-,”. 

“but what if she’s all grown up now and won’t-,”. 

“she’s three, kim mingyu. besides, she loves you, you dumbass,” you ran your thumb over his cheek, though that didn’t seem to convince him. “she’s a daddy’s girl, okay? trust me, i am the one who should be complaining about the lack of cuddles,” you said and smoothed the crease between his brows.

“if you say so,” he sighed, and nuzzled his cheek into your hand. “but-,”. 

suddenly, out of nowhere, you heard a loud bang behind you, like something fell and... glass broke? mingyu being mingyu, almost fell off the couch, but you were quick to turn around to inspect where the sound came from. 

and your heart almost broke when you saw what, or rather who, was standing behind the couch.

"oh, honey," you cooed.

your little girl was standing in the middle of the room, clad in her pink nightgown mingyu had bought her on one of his trips abroad, only instead of the bright smile that always graced her face, there were tears in her gorgeous, brown eyes.

"what the?" your husband murmured next to you. “is that my camera?” 

your daughter’s eyes widened in panic as she looked at him. “‘m sorry, daddy,” her voice wobbled in the most heartbreaking way possible. the little girl’s tiny hands were clutching onto the neck strap that was supposed to be connected to the camera. “didn’ mean,” she sniffled, “to break it,” she said and the first tears started rolling down her puffy cheeks. 

you quickly untangled your limbs from the blanket but before you could get up, mingyu put his hand on your thigh. “no, no, no,” he almost tripped from how fast he got up from the couch. “it wasn’t your fault, princess.” 

you thanked whatever grace that your daughter was smart enough not to move because the floor around her was litreed in small glass shards and you weren’t sure what you and mingyu would do if anything happened to her. 

not even a second later, he was at her side, picking up her small body and engulfing her in his big arms. 

“don’ be angry, daddy,” your baby cried into mingyu's shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

mingyu shook his head and turned around to face you with a heartbreakingly sad expression. “i’m not angry, baby. i was just scared,” he murmured. “daddy thought you hurt yourself.” 

you waved for them to come over to where you were sitting and muttered a quiet “come here”.  

your husband placed your daughter on his lap, her head pressed against his chest, on the same spot where yours was just a minute ago. her tiny fists were pressed against his naked tummy as she continued to sniffle quietly. 

wiping every tear that escaped her eyes you started to hum one of the lullababies mingyu used to sing to her when she was a newborn, something you still did when she was upset. your husband was stroking her hair the whole time, rocking her back and forth, as you continued to hum quietly.

“why did you take my camera, sweetheart?” mingyu asked after a while, when her breathing calmed down a bit. 

“i woke up,” she said, looking up at him with her big brown eyes. “and i saw you n’ mommy sittin’ and i wan’ to take picture. like you always take of me n’ mommy.” 

mingyu’s own eyes welled up with tears and he quickly tucked her head back to his chest so she wouldn’t see him upset. 

“oh, baby,” you whispered quietly, though you weren’t sure who needed more comforting at that point. “that’s so sweet, but next time ask me or daddy for help, okay? you could’ve seriously injured yourself.” 

your baby girl nodded and she scrambled off mingyu’s lap to throw herself in your embrace instead. well, it was nice to know that the unicorns and your husband hadn’t replaced you completely yet.  

“what do you say we go and grab a camera together, hm?” he asked. “and we can do a whole photoshoot, we can even make a white background with the sheets.” 

“pink. pink sheets,” she said and clapped her hands. it seemed that you and mingyu breathed a sigh of relief that your daughter was back to her normal, bubbly self.  

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei @honglynights @jihoonsbbygirl @uhdrienne @bloodcanbehot  @iamawkwardandshy  @icyminghao @heeseungthel0ml @goyangiiwonu @bath1lda @ruurooozz @ny0sang @luuxian @onerubii  @hurrican3-insert-nam3 @mekuiikore @luvseungcheol @thenotoriousegg @yuuyeonie @soffiyuhh @svtficsarchive @hyperdramas @huen1ngk41 @lesuneczka @oc3anfloor @gyuguys @fr-freak @bewoyewo

[byuntrash101]

still your biggest fan. – 송민기.

SYNOPSIS. your boyfriend is on the other side of the globe touring. somehow you fear the cheers of the fans will make him forget about you. so you decide to remind him you are still and will always be his biggest fan

or in which you find a novel way to use your lightstick and send the video to your beloved bf.

mingi x f!reader, smut, mdni

tags. etablished relationship, facetime sex, masturbation (f & m), BLACK UNDERCUT MINGI (!!!!!!!!), jealous + slightly possessive reader, but mingi reassures her (awwww), use of (unconventional) toys (wink wonk im insane pls stop me), pet names, multiple orgasms (f), praises, squirting. wc. 2k

a/n. this mingi has me feral and the concert videos got me in a chokehold. and it's only the first date i need help. also shout out to that one video of yungi saying they use the lightstick to "relax" at night. not proofread.

There was one thing that was absolutely certain about Mingi: that man loved attention. That man lived for the roars of the crowd. When he danced, he was electrified by the cheers of the fans. And you knew your boyfriend was made to be on stage. He enjoyed the attention of fans, hence the fact he was constantly body rolling, hip thrusting and tongue poking. He loved to see the thousands of people thirst for him, he loved looking at all the concert videos all over the internet. He laughed and giggled at the tiktok edits, at the twitter threads, at every comment more over the top than the next.

Usually you don’t mind, you even enjoy them too. You like seeing him happy and fulfilled in his job but today maybe you’re a little insecure. He just flew out to start the American leg of the tour and you’re left behind in this bed that seems so empty. You fear somehow the loud cheers will make him forget about you. You don’t want that. You want to remind him. You want to make sure that today when he goes to sleep the last thing he sees is you. 

You looked at the time, your eyes darted to the digital clock on your night stand. At this time he was probably already at the hotel. It was pretty late for you but you wanted to send him a little treat, you knew how Mingi loved when you sent him videos of you playing with yourself and today you might add a little twist. 

You didn’t have much time if you wanted him to see the video before he slept…

***

Mingi was spent, true. But he was still pumped full of adrenaline when he stepped out of the shower with the ends of his raven black hair wet, the longer strands of his undercut dripping down. He didn’t even bother stepping into his pajamas, the AC was off and this part of the world in July was pretty hot. 

He tucked himself in bed, still wide awake. He looked at his phone, a text from you from several hours ago when you went to bed. You were probably sleeping right now. He debated responding, fearing he would wake you. But he pictures you pouting when you’d wake up in a few hours without a response from him and he couldn’t bear to make you feel that way so he typed a quick answer. 

🎀 princess #2: hope the show goes well (ik it will because you gonna kill it cause you the best😌). i lob you. you know that right? dont forget about me ok? <33333333

👸princess minki (real): i could never baby i love you more. hope you have a great day and i miss you baby <3

then for a second the three little dots appeared and Mingi thought he hallucinated it. But then an other text appeared.

🎀 princess #2: i’ll always be your first and your biggest fan

Mingi didn't even have time to reply that he received a video file. He faintly gasped at the thumbnail. It was your legs spread out on his bed. The big play button in the middle of the frame though blocked out the most interesting part and he didn’t even breathe before he played the video.

He continued to hold his breath when he saw you rub your clit throught your white panties. He didn’t know how long you did played with yourself but your panties were completely see through. Your juices were sticking to your folds, the laces barely concealing you anymore. But still, he needed these damn panties out of the way. 

He wanted to see you. His hand found his cock on instinct, immediately palming his hardening bulge. And his prayers were answered. You pushed the panties to the side uncovering the most beautiful sight Mingi had ever layed eyes on. He exhaled a long sigh when long strings of slick connected you to the thin fabric of the underwear. How bad he wanted to be there, to stuff your soaked panties into your mouth while he thrusted his thick fingers into you. How bad he wanted to feel you twitch around him. How bad he wanted to hear his name fall from your quivering lips as he brought you to your peak. He wanted you so bad.

But then you grabbed hold of something, something that emitted light… The lightiny? Mingi’s jaw hung open when he saw you bring the handle to your center, rubbing it through your folds, coating it with your juices before bringing it up to your hard clit playing with a little, prying beautiful muffled sounds out of your mouth. Just to bring the handle down again, you took a firm grip of the rounded part and pushed the handle inside your trembling core. 

“Fuck” Mingi exhaled as he started pumping his balled fist around his now fully hard cock, he kicked the covers off him just to be able to jerk himself off without resistance. 

“Nghhh” you moaned quietly as you bottomed out. “M-Mingi are you watching?” As if you could see him, Mingi nodded vigorously, qmd you gave more purpose to the coming and going of his wrist. “Keep watching me. K-keep- fuck aaaah. Keep looking at me. I’ll make myself cum for you, ok?”

“Fuck yes baby I wanna see it all.” Mingi replied in a strangled breath, his hand going to play with balls, while his other hand held the phone incredibly close to his face. if he could have he would have gone through the screen and right into you. 

You started to slowly bounce on the lightstick. You were obviously already really worked up, your pussy was clenching down on the shiny copper handle and the light was perfectly shining on your hard clit, making it obvious that you were pretty close. Red and swollen, ready to explode. Just how he liked.

So you did. In a few seconds your thighs were trembling and your movement became uneven. You started to squirt small translucent spurts, one then two.

“Fuck baby you’re so fucking hot” Mingi breathed and pumped himself faster. 

You took the copper handle out and rubbed your clit in tight and fast circles, squirting more translucent liquid and soaking the sheets. Your center quivering around nothing. You slowed down with a sigh and the video stopped.

Mingi felt like he was going to sink into eternal darkness and despair if he didn’t see more of you right now. His cock was twitching in his strong fist, his cockhead was leaking so much precum he wanted you to see him too. He wanted you to know what you did to him.

So he pressed FaceTime. It rang once, twice then you picked up. You looked disheveled and short of breath. Fuck how fucking beautiful you were. Mingi wanted to kiss you all over this pretty face of yours.

“Why do you torture me?” he said a little more whiny than anticipated. 

He was so cute with wet hair and his eyebrows meeting on his forehead. He flipped the camera to show you his swollen cock, hard, red and leaking. You bit you lip at the mouth watering sight.

“I just wanted you to remember me. That's all.” you started, your hand finding your folds once again. “Remind you I will always be your biggest fan”

“Fuck how could I forget about you? Are you insane?” he breathed out, his voice sounded strained, in pain almost. You could only imagine how worked up he was and this urgency in his tone compelled you to find a new angle to the video call. You balanced it on the covers and your wet pussy and the mess you made came into view again.

“Fuckkkk” Mingi sighed again, trying his hardest not to be too loud. San was next door and the last thing he wanted was for him to bring up his little intimate session with you tomorrow at breakfast. “You’ve made such a mess. I usually hate it but God I’d give everything to sleep in the wet spot tonight”. You saw him jerk himself off faster, his thumb spreading the precum all over his tip and dragging it down his shaft. Squeezing the head the bring out even more and repeat it again. 

“Please show me again” he didn’t intend to sound so desperate but it couldn’t be helped because he in fact was that desperate for you. “Please show me how you fuck yourself with the lightiny”

“O-okay” You brought it back and stuffed it inside your clenching little pussy with a sigh, your other hand spreading your lips apart, making sure Mingi had the first raw VIP view of the show. 

“Fuckkkk” he whined again. “You’re so fucking nasty for me, doll”

You chuckled, knowing your little scheme had worked. You knew right now he was only thinking of you. Completely pussy drunk even though he was thousands of miles away.

“I wish it was you inside me right now, Mingming”

“Fuck me too baby” he said strangling his cock tighter, more precum oozing out again. He was close judging by the way he kept on twitching in his own hand. The sight urged you to bounce harder on the handle of the lightstick, your pussy clenching around it, gliding so smoothly in and out of you while your other hand kept on abusing your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Baby I-I’m close” he said, a certain rasp about his voice that was only giving more weight to his words. His fist was frantically moving along his cock, now mainly focussing on his tip, making the poor thing absolutely miserable: all wet and beet red, close to bursting.

“M-me too” you said,  feeling the familiar knot in the pits of your stomach approaching its rupture point. The premise of your orgasm manifested itself in the form of an other small sprut of transparent liquid “Nggghh fuck-” you gasped. “I’m c-cumming again” you whined, rubbing your clit faster, in thighter circles. You ripped the handle out of you and one big squirt came out of your abused little pussy, joining the existing mess in Mingi’s sheets. 

“Oh fuck baby” Mingi couldn’t peel his eyes of the screen. “Fuck baby me- Fuck… Me too” He watched as your thighs became weak and as your pretty little pusy gushed out more and more fluids. You were the hottest thing he’s ever seen. And he couldn’t possibly take it anymore. He let himself go. He abruptly stop stroking himself just to let the first big rope of cum sprout out of his slit and crash over his stomach. You moaned louder at the sight. He kept on stroking again, milking more delicious cum out of his twitching red cock, completely repainting his stomach with thick and white cum, grunting as his hips involuntarily thrusted upwards until it all stopped.

When he had caught his breath he approached the phone to show his stomach and scooped some of his spillage between his fingers. 

“Look what you did to me? Just cause you got a little jealous of the fans?” he chuckled.

“I did that?” you said appalled, “No you did that! Stop making me jealous and it won't happen again” He flipped the camera again and you couldn't help but to smile mindlessly at the screen. He was a complete wreck, sharp eyes half lidded, bottom lip swollen and red from being bitten and strands of black hair sticking to his forehead. This haircut made him ridiculously hot. A mischievous smirk pulled at his full lips.

“Or…” he trailed off. “I don't this stop and you make me dirty sexy videos after every show”

“Yeah” you said, sarcasm tinting your voice. “Let's see you do that! We’ll see how it goes when you came back” you challenged him. Your smile sent shivers down Mingi’s spine. He loved you but you definitely could be scary sometimes.

“You know what, I changed my mind. I'll just behave and you can reward me when I get home.”

want more? try my fic facetime ♡

SYNOPSIS. mingi has a small favor to ask you real quick.

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[mermaidgirl30]

✨Caught In the Act✨

Pre-outbreak! Joel Miller x Roommate! fem reader

A/N: Thank you to @littlevenicebitch69 for showing me that video that sparked the inspiration for this fic 😘 No beta, but I had so much fun writing this one!

Summary: Thinking you’re home alone, you decide to unwind in bed, but the last thing you expect is to have Joel Miller, the man you’re renting a room from, find you naked in bed.

Word Count: 4.1k

Rating: Explicit 18+ Only MDNI

Tags: Vibrator use, porn with plot, yearning, feelings, infatuation, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, dirty talk, roommates

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The sunlight trickles against the sheer curtains as the room swelters with heat. The buzzing sounds fill the bedroom as your hips rock against the silk sheets, your fingers curling with every meticulous circle the vibrator makes against your swollen clit. 

   “Joel,” you moan freely, knowing he isn’t home, not at this hour of the day. It’s just you and your breathy whispers of his name, pretending the vibrator is his thick fingers stifling an orgasm from your needy clit, pretending the dampening sheets are his greying tousled curls as you tug and pull, pretending his large tongue is consuming you entirely as another moan slips from your lips.

   You shouldn’t be thinking about the man you’re renting a room from like this, shouldn’t be moaning his name while your vibrator is pressed firmly against your bundle of nerves, but you just can’t help yourself. He’s just so hot the way his veiny hands open whiskey bottles as his strong muscles clench tight around his button-up flannels he always looks so damn good in. And he’s so fucking sexy the way he smirks while his Southern drawl falls from his plush lips every single time he talks to you with those big brown eyes that you just want to sink into. You can’t help but want him all the time, even though you really shouldn’t.

   “Ohhh, fuck,” you whine as you hit that spot, right where it feels like you’re about to shed your orgasm at any second. So you speed up your motions, pressing down harder as you moan his name again, letting it fall off your lips like he’s here with you now, like he’s taking you exactly how you like it. 

   You’re breathing so hard and focusing on your ragged breaths and the sounds of the whirring vibrator that you don’t even hear the door being jarred open or see the brooding man that stands against your bedroom door. You don’t notice until you hear that thick, undeniable voice that only belongs to one man. That man being Joel fucking Miller.

   “Jesus Christ, sweetheart. Moanin’ my name and I ain’t even touchin’ you? Must want it bad,” he chuckles, a large smirk pressed on his mouth as he leans with crossed arms against your painted door frame.

   You jump from the sudden intrusion and shut the vibrator off, panting and sweating from your almost orgasm as you work to throw the covers over your naked body. “Jesus, Joel! I didn’t know you were home. I'm sorry… I.” Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to happen, he wasn’t supposed to see you like this! 

   He stops you mid sentence, holding up his large palm as he clears his throat. “Ain’t gotta apologize, sweetheart. Why don’t you just carry on? Besides, I could hear you moanin’ my name the moment I stepped in the house. Not gonna lie, it kinda turned me on. And then walkin’ in and seein’ this? Well, jus’ pull those covers back and let me see that pretty glistenin’ pussy. You want a little assistance there?” he nods, eyes darkening into black pits as you see the outline of his hard cock beneath his worn jeans. 

   You swallow and choke on your own spit, eyes widening as you slowly reveal your slick center to him once again as you spread your legs wide. “There ya go, sweetheart. Look at how fuckin’ wet you are. Goddamn,” he groans as he rakes a large hand slowly over his greying scruff. “Go on, be a good girl and turn the vibrator back on for me,” he replies in a raspy tone that sets your core on fire.

   You slowly press the button, letting the vibrations slow your pounding heart rate as you stare up at the man you’ve been dreaming about from the moment you stepped foot into this house. “You want me to…”

   He nods, dropping his jaw open as he takes in just how wet you already are for him. “Yeah, put it back on that pretty clit, sweetheart. Wanna see.”

   Your mouth parts open the moment you place it on your throbbing mound, your mouth dropping open as you gaze up into pitch black eyes that want to consume you whole. You hold in a moan, spreading your legs wider as the vibrator circles against your puffy clit, but what feels even better is Joel standing there drinking down the image of you getting yourself off while he watches. 

   “Goddamn, darlin’. Look at you,” he whistles, untucking his flannel shirt from his jeans as he stalks over to the edge of the bed, kicking his boots off as his body weight makes the bed cave as he crawls on top of the sheets.

   “Joel,” you whine, watching his big black eyes come closer as he props himself up beside you, one hand coming down on top of yours while the other tucks a lock of hair behind your ear.

   “Let me jus’ give you a hand there, sweetheart. Let me take control,” he growls, grabbing onto the end of the vibrator as he presses it further into your folds, circling slow, meticulous circles as he draws a breathy moan from you. 

   “That’s it, Attagirl,” he praises as your back arches off the bed, taking the vibrator a level up as he grinds it against your slick folds.

   “Ooooh, fuck,” you whine, twisting your fingers into the soft material of his flannel while his gorgeous face hangs just over yours, his big eyes making another wave of slick slip from your center.

   “Feels good, don’t it? Yeah, right there,” he purrs as he pushes it down close to your dripping hole, hitting that one special spot that makes your legs start to shake.

   “Yes, Joel. Please, don’t stop,” you beg as you grip his forearm with a tight fist.

   “I’m not gonna stop till that pretty pussy’s soakin’ my hand, sweetheart,” he smirks, turning the vibrations up even higher as your body hums with electricity from his touch. “If I would’ve known sooner that you’ve been wantin’ this, I would’ve already been on my knees with my mouth between your thighs,” he groans as another moan comes crashing through the room.

   You start to feel the coils snap in your belly, and then hot heat starts to slide down your spine as your orgasm starts to break. “Joel, I’m not gonna - fuck, I’m coming!” you scream as you let the floodgates open and latch on to his veiny wrist.

   “Jesus Chris, you’re fuckin’ soakin’ me,” he says in awe as slick sprays from your pussy, coating his hand in your release as your back arches off the mattress and your body hums with your intense orgasm. Joel works you through it, calling you a good girl as he shuts the vibrator off and just slowly circles it over your aching center until you’re coherent enough to open your eyes and breathe normally again.

   He throws the vibrator to the side and slides a calloused hand carefully from your neckline, in between your breasts, skating down your abdomen, and ending right above your mound. He smiles down at you as he takes his time to ghost his fingers over your soaked folds, stifling a whimper from your lips as he hovers over your puffy clit. 

   “You look so pretty comin’ undone, darlin’. Wanna see it again, this time wanna really feel it.” He presses the pad of his thumb down on your bundle of nerves, drawing meticulous circles, making you cant your hips up as you soak in the way his fingers feel like pure magic. 

   “Oh god, please,” you beg, throwing your head back as he slips a finger inside your dripping hole. 

   “I got you, sweetheart. Gonna make you feel real good now, jus’ hold tight.” Before you know what’s coming, he crashes his lips down on yours and swallows a moan as he curls another finger inside, stretching your walls as he reaches that soft spongy spot that you can never reach yourself.

   You lean into the kiss, breathing in his woodsy scent, tasting the sweat of the Austin sun on his lips, feeling the way he slips his tongue inside your mouth and swallows every sound you make while he repeatedly fucks his fingers deep inside your pussy, making you feel like you’re floating on thin air. 

   You wrap your arms around his neck, pushing your fingers through his dark tousled curls as a groan leaves his lips and enters your mouth while he repeatedly takes the breath from your lips. He licks inside you while his thick fingers make wet, obscene sounds as he fucks deeper, uncoiling that same tension he already snapped just minutes ago as he repeats the process all over again.

   He unhooks from your lips, finds a steady rhythm as he slips from your hole and full on rocks his fingers up and down your folds, brushing the heel of his wrist over your puffy clit that screams for him to take you over the edge again. 

   The room is suddenly too hot with his weight on your chest, his expert fingers moving at an impossibly fast pace as your core burns hot and bright, begging for him to make you come again.

   “Jesus, fuck - I’m right there. God, it feels so fucking good, Joel,” you stifle as your jaw slackens and your body starts to vibrate the more his fingers work and work at your core. 

   He slips two fingers back inside you, hitting that one spot that makes you see stars, and then he’s whispering filthy words against your parted lips. “Such a good fuckin’ girl lettin’ me use these fingers on that pretty pussy, wonder what you’d feel like takin’ my cock next,” he smirks as he nips at your bottom lip, pulling another moan from your throat. 

   “Please, Joel,” you beg.

   “Is that an invitation, sweetheart?” he chuckles, raising a thick eyebrow as he looks you deep in the eyes with those beautiful brown eyes that are blown wide.

   “Yes, want your cock, Joel. Want you to - oh, fill me up - fuck,” you whine as you feel your release start to flow down your insides. 

   “Yeah, fuckin’ spill for me, that’s it. Atta fuckin’ girl,” he growls as he presses deep inside that spongy spot, and then you’re completely done for. The slick pools down your core, covering Joel’s knuckles and the inside of your thighs as the orgasm takes a hold and knocks your head back against the cotton pillow.

   “That’s it. So pretty, baby,” he coos as he works you through it once again. 

   The fog fills your brain as every euphoric feeling takes its hold on you, holding you down against the damp sheets as you focus on the man that hangs above you. When you finally come to your senses, Joel uncurls his fingers from your core and pops the digits into his mouth, sucking and groaning as he indulges in your sweet taste. 

   “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you taste better than a shot of whiskey,” he groans as he delves his fingers back inside you, collecting slick on the tips of his calloused fingers and brings it up to your lips. “Open up, sweetheart. Try a taste,” he purrs.

   You part your lips and allow him to enter. You take his two fingers and suck, glancing at him with glazed over eyes as your sweet taste slides down the back of your throat. 

   “Goddamn. That’s picture worthy, sweetheart. You suckin’ on my fingers while you lick off your own slick? Jesus Christ, you’re gonna fuckin’ ruin me,” he murmurs as he looks at you with wide, blown out eyes.

   You giggle as you tip your head up, wrapping your fingers around the collar of his flannel as you tug, pulling just enough to expose a trail of dark chest hair that’s saturated in sweat. “Just like you’ll ruin me. But I’m okay with that. Just need you right now,” you pant out, popping open more of the buttons of his flannel until he gets the hint and throws it off, exposing his broad, muscular chest that’s beaded in glistening sweat, and his happy trail disappears under the material of his dark jeans.

   “You want me inside you, sweetheart?” he whispers as you hurriedly unbuckle his belt and start popping open the top button. 

   “Yes, want your cock inside me. Please, I need you,” you beg as he smiles down at you with glossy brown eyes.

   “Need me to fill you up? Want me to fuck you nice ‘n deep?” he smirks as he unzips his jeans and slides them off his legs, his boxers following swiftly after.

   You gulp as his massive cock springs up against his soft tummy, taking in just how big he is as precum spills from the slit. You gawk at him when he wraps a hand around his large length and starts spreading the precum up and down his shaft meticulously. 

   “Mhm,” is all you can get out as you watch him stroke himself up and down. Fuck. 

   “Spread those legs then, sweetheart,” he smirks as he positions himself right between your legs. You can only whine and knead your breasts together as he takes the tip and slides it along your folds, collecting slick on his swollen tip that’s red and throbbing just for you. He rubs it along your overstimulated clit and chuckles when you pant his name out. 

   “So fuckin’ beautiful,” he drawls as he positions himself at the entrance of your sopping wet hole. “Such a messy girl, too. All this for me? Goddamn. Gonna fill you up real good.” Before you have time to say anything, he thrusts inside you, filling you so full as you gasp at the wide stretch he makes.

   “Jesus Christ, you’re tight, darlin’. Jus’ needed this big cock to stretch you out, s’that right?” he groans, caging you in with his muscular arms as he ruts deeper inside you, filling you to the brim with every languid stroke of his massive cock.

   You throw your head back, clawing your nails down his broad back as you moan nonsense while he generously slides his thick length back and forth, slipping out just enough to ram back inside you with a sting to your insides as his tip continually kisses the back of your cervix. 

   It’s like you can’t get enough, need more of him, need every inch of his skin to crawl into yours as he takes you to the edge again. You’ve never felt a stretch like this, never been so cock hungover, not until Joel fucking Miller slipped inside you, and you’re afraid you won’t ever get enough of him now. 

   “More,” you beg, panting from every motion of the snap of his hips, moaning every time he’s deep inside your clenched walls, splitting them open with every single rutting motion he gives.

   “You want more, sweetheart? I’ll give you more. Yeah, give you jus’ what you want,” he smirks as he bends your knees up, folding you into a pancake shape as he crawls over you with his beautiful, broad body. “Careful what you ask for. Might not be able to take it,” he chuckles, eyes darkening with trouble written all over them. 

   He spears inside you, thrusting so deep that you swear you feel him inside your stomach, hitting that spongy spot that makes you gasp as your back arches off the damp sheets. “Fuckkkk,” you moan, your voice carrying through the entire room as his deep grunts collide with yours.

   “Yeah, s’right. Take it,” he growls, nipping at your collarbone as your fingers fist in his tousled curls. “Be a good girl and come on my cock,” he demands as his hips thrust violently against yours.

   You have no more control. The room is heavy and hot as your musk and sweat collect over the other, your fingers dragging down his back as you clench up and let your sweet release slip out, coating him in your slick. “Joel, feels - fuck, I’m coming,” you moan into the shell of his ear.

   He stills his thrusts for a few seconds, feeling your walls clench around his cock as you start to soak him, the flow not stopping even as you tilt your head back and scream from the blistering heat that settles in your core.

   “Oh, that’s a good fuckin’ girl. Squeezin’ so tight, milkin’ me with that slippery cum, Jesus Christ,” he moans as he thrusts back into you, not wasting a moments time as he chases his own release.

   You settle into a fog, his deep pants and groans reverberating off the walls as his heavy hands settle on your hips, fucking into you so deep that you feel drunk and so full of him that you swear you should be satiated, but you’re not. You’d let him pump you full of his cock all night in every different position, if only you could continue to do this night after night.

   “‘M not gonna last, sweetheart. Where do you want me?” He grinds his teeth together in concentration as he tries to hold it in just a little longer.

   “Inside me. Fill me up, handsome,” you purr.

   His jaw ticks, and something like fire lights in his glossy eyes, and a devilish smirk forms on his plush lips as he thrusts once, twice, three more times and then pounds you as hard as he can. He leans his forehead against yours and lets out a guttural groan, feeling the white ropes of cum paint the back of your cervix as he gushes all inside you.

   “Fuck me,” he moans, not willing to move till he has all of him spilled inside your walls. He slowly pulls out of you, and you feel the warmth of your own slick and his release mix together as it gushes outside your pussy and down your thighs.

   “Look at you, such a pretty little mess you are, ain’t ya,” he smiles, staring at your legs splayed wide as he dips a finger down against folds, collecting the mixed cum together on his index finger. “Open up, pretty girl,” he smirks.

   He takes his index finger and slots it between your glossy lips, letting you lick and suck on his finger. You swear his eyes widen even further as his black pupils expand into pure lust. “So good,” you moan, wrapping your lips around his finger as you tease and suck on his slick covered digit.

   “Goddamn, look at you. You’re jus’ a wicked little tease, ain’t ya?” he groans, dragging the finger from your lips and pulling it into his warm mouth, sucking with a deliciously hungry groan that makes your eyes widen with heat. “Delicious,” he smirks as he pops his own digit from his mouth, grinding out another moan from your throat as he topples on the bed beside you.

   You both breathe raggedly as you look from one to the other, both locked in a heated staring match, his fingertips lingering on the back of your neck as he pulls you closer to his glistening chest. “That was…” 

   “Unexpected, but amazin’ all the same,” he finishes with a smile curled around his mouth. “You’re tellin’ me you’ve been livin’ in this house for moments, and you weren’t plannin’ on tellin’ me you thought ‘bout me in bed?” His eyebrows raise, and he looks at you square in the eyes, a sly smirk crossing his mouth.

   “I didn’t wanna risk getting kicked out,” you say with your lips molded together in a tight gesture. 

   “Kicked out, huh?” He chuckles and shakes his tousled curls. “Sweetheart, I found you in your bed moanin’ my name. Hell, you could’ve told me that first day you walked in. Think I would’ve taken you right there on the counter if I knew you were into me,” he chuckles.

   “Get out of here,” you laugh as you playfully push him in the chest. “You would not have.”

   “Oh yes I would. Thought you were a knockout from the minute you came through the front door with those little daisy dukes and those beautiful eyes. Shit, I’ve had a thing for you since day one, sweetheart.”

   You purse your lips and give him a once over, assessing his genuine brown eyes that seem covered in softness. Holy shit. He’s being serious. “Really?” you ask breathlessly.

   “Really,” he nods, curling his fingers through your hair and pulling you forward, till your mouth collides with his in a long, sensuous kiss that sends music running through your ears. His lips feel like velvet, and his tongue tastes like cinnamon. 

   When you fall away from his lips, he smiles. “We gonna make this a habit?”

   “Do you want to make this a habit?” you ask with a raised brow, hope stirring in your chest.

   “I mean, ‘course I do, darlin’. A pretty thing like you should be fucked well and taken on nice dates. Think we got the fuckin’ part down, jus’ gotta take ya to dinner now.” He winks and flashes his honey-glazed eyes, and you feel as if you could drown in those syrupy eyes. 

   “That what you tell all the girls who turn into your roommate?” you giggle.

   “Now, sweetheart. You’re rentin’ a room from me. If you wanna be roommates, then technically you’d need to stay in my room, in my bed, in my arms,” he smiles as he pulls you flush to his broad chest, draping an arm around the back of your hip as his fingers softly tease at your soft skin.

   You hum into his touch, giving him a dreamy smile as you drag your nails against his silver scruff. “Roommates, huh? Is that what we’re gonna be?”

   “Roommates, fuck buddies, lovers… s’hard to say, darlin’. But I like you, and I’d like to explore whatever this is.” His tone is so sincere that it makes butterflies flit through your stomach at the possibilities of what this could turn out to be. 

   You push your fingers through his messy curls, reveling over his deep groans as you drag your nails down his scalp. “I like you too, Joel. A lot, actually,” you blush.

   “Figured as much when I caught you moanin’ my name while usin’ that little vibrator on your pretty pink pussy,” he winks, making you blush at the way he drags out the words and keeps his brown eyes locked tight on yours. 

   You shake your head and groan when he drags his thick thumb over your lower lip. “Bet I’m not the only one. What have you been thinking about at night, in the shower, in your bed?” you smirk, making his cheeks redden at the mention of it.

 �� “Yeah, yeah, sweetheart. You know I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout you, too. Been wonderin’ how sweet you were. Turns out you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever put my lips on.” He curls his lips into a delicious smile and flips you over to where your back is flush with his sweat-covered chest, lacing his calloused fingers with yours as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his scruff scratching softly along your jawline. 

   You lay there in the twisted sheets, inhaling the musk that makes up Joel Miller, embedding his woodsy pine scent deep into your memory. This feels… right, like this is where you’ve always belonged, in his arms.

   “How’s ’bout I take you on a date Friday night? We could go see a movie, I’ll buy you a big thing of popcorn, hold your hand, maybe pull you into my lap so I can kiss you all I want, then I’ll take you back home and make love to you in my bed all night long.” He places a gentle kiss to your cheek, and you melt into the feel of him. 

   You squeeze his hand and brush your lips over his knuckles, giving him a lazy smile as you turn to look back at him over your shoulder. “Okay, cowboy. You’ve got a deal.”

   He brushes his lips over yours and pulls you close so he can trace his lips over the shell of your ear. “Alright, pretty girl. It’s a date. Now, how ‘bout we go take a shower, and I can make you some dinner. Maybe go for round two after with my mouth between those pretty thighs of yours,” he whispers as a chill runs down your spine, heat building back in your core.

   You huff out a laugh and stifle a groan. “Mmmm, alright then, cowboy. I’m all in.”

   He presses his lips against yours and then tugs you up from the bed, lacing his fingers with yours as he leads you to his room. “Gonna take you for the ride of your life, sweetheart,” he smirks.

   “I’m counting on it,” you smile. 

   And so it begins.

[sinning-23]

Hot Tatted Uncle Pt.2 (Uncle!SukunaAu x Teacher!Reader)

Thanks so much for the love and support on pt.1 you guys are the besttt lol, honestly might be a 3 parter we'll see! ANyway, enjoy :0

Also pleaseee excuse any spelling errors yall

Link to Pt.1

PART THREE HERE!!!

_______________________________________

You stared at the text message, throat tight with excitement but dread. It had been a few months since the last incident with Yuji and his Uncle. The roguish male often picked up the young boy, tagging along with Yuji’s father. You’d usually just give Jin a rundown of his son’s day, ever so often catching Sukuna’s gaze as he leaned against the door frame. And every time it happened, you’d choke, clearing your throat and focusing your attention on Yuji and his father.

It didn’t help that he was always texting you, asking his his nephew was behaving. Even though it was cordial and polite, you still felt giddy getting texts from him.

This comes to the next point, why you’re sitting here practically gawking over the most recent message request from Yuji’s father.

-YOU HAVE A NEW MESSAGE:

Hello Miss Y/n! Do you babysit? I know Yuji loves having you as a teacher and I was wondering if you’d be interested in babysitting for him along with his Uncle while me and my wife go on vacation. Of course, you will be paid as well.

-Jin Itadori @ 6:28pm-

You wait to open it, pacing for a moment, thinking, first of all if you were available for the weekend and second, why couldn’t his uncle handle it?!

Well, given the man’s track record maybe an experienced hand in childcare could be useful. With a heavy sigh, you respond and you'd have to quickly come to terms with the fact that you would be essentially babysitting over 2 days with your students' hot uncle.

-----------

It's Friday now, and arrangements for you to simply drive Yuji back home and meet up there with his uncle were already in place. You were trusted with a spare house key, and their precious baby boy, who so seemed to be happier than a fly on shit that you would be spending even MORE time with him.

You gather your things and a few activities to pass the time, loading them into your car. Yuji insists on helping, carrying a small container of building blocks with his chubby hands. And god damn does he not stop talking while he does. It's adorable really, whatever comes off the top of the boy's head simply flying free.

"My-My uh uncle, he doesn’t have no girlfriend." He speaks, the statement making you choke.

"Ahaha is that so? He tells you to say that?" You joke, setting the pink-haired toddler in his car seat, and buckling him in with ease.

"MHM! My uh-" He coughs, quickly covering it with his elbow as you give a small 'good job' seeing as he's learning to keep his germs away from everyone, including you.

"My Uncle says uh he says that you got pretty eyes." He explains, your heart fluttering.

You sit in the driver seat finally, the boy still rambling on and on about what his uncle thinks about you. Though all you can do is respond with a simple, "Oh that's very kind, or a awee", Yuji is nonstop.

It’s quiet for a moment and as you’re pulling into the driveway when he says it, clear as day.

"Uncle says your ass is fat too."

You slam the brakes, the car jerking a bit when you do. What. The. FUCK-

The culprit is already awaiting you, arms folded over his chest as they flex. He’s got a white tank top on and a pair of black basketball shorts paired with slides and ankle socks.

Yuji squirms, growing ever more excited as Sukuna takes him out of the car seat and lightly jabs his knuckles to the boy's sides with a 'Rahhhh', as if he were some kind of tickle monster. Yuji of course laughs and if ALMOST makes you forget about what he'd just said a moment ago.

"Wanna help Miss Y/n put this inside?" Sukuna asks the small boy, handing him the block container from before. Yuji is quick to nod and scurry to the front door.

"I can bring the rest of this, Jin gave you the housekey right?" He asks, leaning against the frame of the car, your neck snapping towards him as you swallow thickly. Fuck you can see even more of the tats now in that shirt.

"U-Uhm yes, yes. I'll go get the door. I can get some of this too I-" You speak, fumbling to find the key. He only puts his hand up and shakes his head, the silver chain around his swishing a bit.

"Nah I gotchu. Yuji knows how to turn the TV on so he can watch his lil show for a bit.”

Sure enough, the minute you unlock the door, Yuji crawls atop the couch, using the remote to try his best to navigate. It takes a while, and he mispresses a few buttons but after about 5 minutes he manages to play something entertaining for him.

Sukuna had finished bringing your bags in as well as the one with activities in it, setting it on the stairs. He rolls his shoulder, pointing at Yuji who was immersed in the show.

"See." Sukuna hums, leaning against the countertop next to you, also skimming over the note. His body heat is practically radiating off of him, just standing by him is warming you up.

You nod in response, looking over the brief note Jin left for you both and according to what it said, your next step was to head up some leftovers for Yuji and then run him a bath.

"There’s two bathrooms so I can get the boy.” He offers, resting his hand behind his neck as you give a nervous laugh. FUCK this nervousness was most likely only on you. There’s no way he could be just as filled with anticipation as you were?!

You take the offer, giving a small thank you before fishing the shower and taking one considering you did just get off of work. Packed away in your bag was a set of comfortable clothes and a book with you figured would help pass the time once Yuji went to sleep.

You could hear footsteps and Yuji fussing back and forth with his Uncle.

“Hush man you’re making me look bad.” Sukuna groans, throwing the toddler over his shoulder as he giggles but continues to thrash, pounding tiny fists against the older male's back.

“No! NO BATH! I don’t wanna!” Yuji whines, his Uncle only growling in response.

“I’ll give you candy if you stop.”

And just like that it was quiet.

-8:30pm-

The night had gone smoother than you thought, you and Sukuna both interacting with Yuji as it’s beginning to be time to wind down. His eyes were beginning to get heavy and before you knew it he was slumped against the couch, clutching an unfinished sucker in one hand and a white puppy plush in the other. You smile, scooping him up and patting him when he stirs.

“Be right back, let me tuck him in.” You whisper, seeing Sukuna look up from his phone and nod, one arm slung over the sofa while he practically manspreads

-9:00pm-

Turns out, Yuji took a bit longer to fall asleep when he realized he was being put down and so you had to sit and pat him for an extra 30 minutes. And once you returned to the living room, there was Sukuna, still scrolling. Well, that was until you came in.

“Sorry, he wouldn’t go back to sleep.” You explain, sitting at the farthest end from him, picking up your book in the silence.

“So you like working up there? At the school?” He asks, putting his phone down to hold the conversation with you.

It takes you by surprise for a second but you are quickly to respond.

“Well yeah, I love the kids and I love working there and teaching them things. Yuji is a sweetheart and it’s definitely kids like him that make it all worth it.” You explain, a smile making its way to your lips.

“You got kids?” He asks, eyes on your frame as you laugh a bit in response

“Nah, don’t really plan on it right now either. Kids are difficult.” You answer, now facing him a bit more, body relaxed.

What was there to be so scared of?! He’s a chill guy who just so happened to be hot as fuck asking you about your career and life?!

“How about you? Kids? Working?” You flip, seeing him shift a bit uncomfortably.

“Hell nah. I see how Jin deals with Yuji and I’m not really cut you to be a dad. And for work well, I’m a priest.” He states, smirking at the surprised look on your face.

“R-Really??” You question definitely surprised.

“Nah I’m just fucking with you.” He laughs and you do the same, trying to keep your volume down since Yuji did just fall asleep.

-11:08pm-

It was crazy to believe you’d spent about two hours just talking back and forth, with him about his past, his brother, and his nephew. You about your own life and current living situations. Somehow the conversation took…a turn.

“Y’know, it’s funny because Yuji keeps telling me about these things you say and I think it’s so funny. Like he’s tone little wingman.” You laugh, seeing him grin right back at you.

“Yeah like what?” He asks, more teasing than anything.

“Well he said that you said I have pretty eyes and on the way here he goes, ‘uncle says your ass is fat’” you explain with a laugh that he doesn't return.

Instead you see his lip tuck between his teeth after he licks them.

“I did say that.”

Suddenly the room is hot, and you’re very aware of how sharp his canaines look in that stupid grin. How his hand is grinning the back of the couch cushion. And for some goddamn reason you just had to look down, that fucking print so visible against his inner thigh.

Your breath falters, eyes wide and you swallow back any doubt. So he had said all that stuff and it want just Yuji repeating something or just talking.

“I-Well I…Thank you? I-I mean I’d be lying if I said hadn’t looked at you too.” You admit, his body shifting to face you more, almost caging you in on the couch.

“I figured. Every time I come to pick up you can’t seems to form a sentence correctly .” He notes.

“Suku-“

“Ryo.” He corrects. Lifting the strap of your nightshirt over your shoulder, playing with the fabric for a moment.

“Ryo.” You test, hearing his exhale heavily.

“Let’s stop pretending there’s nothing happing and has been happening here. No rule against fooling around with me is there?” Sukuna tests, his hand trailing up to rest no on your neck, his thumb pulling your lower lip down.

“No.”

And with that your make the hood move to connect your lips, his arms immediately going to lift you up ans set you against his lap.

Damn does that bulge feel to much better resting between your legs than just looking at it.

___________________________________

Authors note: OKAY YEHA ITs gonna be a 3 parter with smut in the next one I cant resist lol yall know smut is my specialty! LMK if you wanna be added to the taglist shawty!

Taglist: @manikosii @ya-boi-v @tergyri @ninacutebee16 @minaloq @kriegsumire-blog @samisfunky @peachhiz @teupaidecalcinhasblog @khaotic-luca @gurutoru @molita111 @snail-squasher @rowrowrowyourboat13

[agatharkn3ss]

Rio's flower theory (contains spoilers!)

Some people have noticed how Rio's flower kept making appearance in the last episode, so naturally I re-watched it for the 100th time, and made note of every moment we see the flower because I have a theory...

First appearance - Rio presents it to Agatha when she crawls out of the ground

Agatha pushed it out of her hand, but it's unclear what happens to it - I thought maybe it looked like she put it in her coat pocket, but actually I think she just threw it to the ground, she would be too angry to keep it. And so we see the flower back in Rio's hands when she merrily hops along the Road. She doesn't stop playing with it even when they stop to look at the trial house.

The flower (and also her knife) is also present in the trial. As we saw with Agatha's locket, amulets and Joe's spell book, the trial seems to let the witches keep things that are important to them.

When they exit the trial, frantically trying to save Teen, Rio is back playing with the flower again, silently observing Agatha.

This continues until the campfire. Seriously, why is this girl stimming so much?

The interesting bit is when Agatha returns from Teen. Her hands are in her pocket, so we can't see whether she's holding something in her hands or if she's taking something from her pocket. But in the next frame, as she sits down to join the coven, she has that flower in her left hand! I think Rio must have put it on the seat, waiting for her. There are some interesting looks!

Finally, when Rio gets up to go after Agatha, the camera pans out and we see the flower has actually been left back on the log, where Agatha sat... What is the meaning of it?....

So in summary, the flower has some deeper meaning to Rio and she seems to really treasure it, maybe even use it as a stimming device, maybe trying to control her emotions?

Enter the Marvel promo for Death tarot card!

In one hand, we see Death holds her dagger (looking familiar?), in the other hand she holds an object that people believe to be Death's black heart. But it also reminds me the shape of a flower. So what if Rio's flower IS her heart? That she keeps offering to Agatha?

But I wonder if Agatha realises the meaning of the flower yet. In ep.1 she looked a little surprised when Rio says she does have a heart, that it's black and beats for her. It would be hard to believe that if these two were an item for centuries, that they wouldn't end up knowing everything about each other. So Agatha's "you don't have a heart" could just be a snarky, hurtful comment to reflect Rio's possible betrayal (the "job" she had to do) or a more literal fact that she doesn't believe Rio can be truly human in any physical way (no heart, no scars), because she's Lady Death. Or both. So maybe Rio hid that part from her? They certainly seem like they didn't even talk and reconcile after the dramatic events because Agatha seems surprised at Rio's hurt and regret when she tells her "scar story".

Anyway, I digress... In short, I think flower is (or at least symbolises) Rio's heart.

Bonus content - we actually get a glimpse of that flower in ep.1 as it makes its appearance even in Agatha's fake reality. Even though the camera angles make it impossible to see it most of the time, there are scenes when Rio moves her head just enough that we can see a bit of her her clip - which looks eerily like the flower!

While there was no actual flower in their ep.1 fight scene, Agatha is wearing a flowery robe and the wallpaper is all flowers. So I think there is a deeper symbolism there that the show is trying to subtly incorporate - does it all link to the Green Witch powers? Or the language of flowers?

Even Teen places a flower on Sharon's grave, where would he even get it from in that dark place? And finally, Jen uses blue flowers when they summon the green witch (Lilia offers a rock, Agatha adds a leaf and it's not clear what Alice adds - some dust or fruit?)

So... after all that, I don't actually know anything about plants or gardening. So does anyone know what type Rio's flower even is? I mean, there literally is a flower called Rio, could that be a hint or is it too simple?

EDIT: My bad, Rio is a proprietary company name who sells those flowers. But what about this flower called Surprise Lily? (also called Resurrection Lily!) Doesn't look quite like Rio's but I like the name as it would be quite funny if it was true...

[nezuscribe]

𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙

summary: being gojo's wife was better than you could have imagined, too good perhaps. when you have doubts about being with him, gojo must simply show you that they're wrong

pairing: gojo x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, mdni, mild angst, heavy smut, fingering (female receiving), oral (female receiving), vaginal penetration, heavy making out, gojo is a little possessive (but that's okay!)

note: this could be a historical au if you squint but i was too tired to go in-depth. also sorry for any typos, i might fix it later

word count: 3.3k

jjk masterlist

gojo saturo was a man who was always sure of himself. 

he didn’t need anybody to tell him of his strength. the word of his agility spread across the aegean sea, and his strength rivaled no other man. his stark beauty that only came with having a goddess as a mother, and his snide remarks that came with being fed with a silver spoon his entire life. 

and yet you had never seen gojo so angry. never seen his eyes turn such a shade of gray, his hair framing his face messily as he breathed as though each inhale cost him the regular amount three would take. 

his (your) sleeping quarters usually a comforting place for you to be, but it all felt cold now. you could barely look at him without feeling the bile rise in your throat, wondering if you finally ruined the lick of happiness you were blessed with these past few months.

who would have thought your words would have such an effect on him? 

"what do you mean let you leave?" he spat your earlier statement as if it burned his tongue, seared his flesh as he if the prospect was enough to set even the holiest man aflame.

"i," you paused, your back pressing up against the wall as tears treacherously stabbed at your waterline, “i just think that you could have somebody…worthier.” you used the heel of your palm to wipe at your cheeks, hoping that the darkness would hide your weakness.

he took in another labored breath as if hearing you say it again was the confirmation he needed to make sure he heard you correctly the first time. 

“you could have anybody, gojo,” his lips curled at the use of his last name, getting comfortable with hearing ‘toru fall off your soft lips, “i don’t want you to be bound to me because you wanted to spite-” 

“spite?” he throws it out, cutting you off, scoffing in disbelief as you nod slowly. 

“you don’t have to take me for a fool,” you say through a sniffle, the moon carding through the window as it bounces off of his beautiful face, “i don’t have much to give, but i’m not dense. i know that there wouldn’t be many reasons after spite to take me as your wife.”

he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, looking at you and then at the tears that stained your soft cheeks. he wanted to reach out and wipe them, to kiss the salt away, and to give you words that held his heart in each syllable but you would only deem them as moments to fill the silence and to please the gods.

“then you are dense if you think that’s why i picked you as my wife,” he tells you finally, the words cutting you through your nightgown and through your chest. you were aware he wielded the sword better than any grecian warrior, but you never would have guessed that his words could be just as powerful. 

“your mother wants-” 

“damn what she wants!” he cracked, shaking in anger as your lips wobbled at the flash that crossed his face, he rubbed his hands over his tired eyes, looking away, trying to calm himself down as his hair fell into his eyes, “have you ever stopped to think about what about what i want?”

you didn’t know what he wanted. you had always thought that the gojo satoru would pick somebody spectacular to be his equal, somebody whose name was just as prominent as his. you thought that his wife would have been a child of a god as well, somebody who could match him on his every level. 

but now you weren’t sure, your past judgment slipping away as you took in his disheveled state.

“i,” he sighed, looking at you as he shook his head, “i want you so much that hearing you say you want to leave damn near tore my heart out. i want you so much that my every waking moment is spent thinking, dreaming, wanting you. you are the only person that i care for.” he choked out, his voice raw as he pushed the strands away so he could see you.

you couldn’t find anything to say as your lips trembled as you tried to conceal your cries. if only he knew your petty tears came from years of these words being muttered in the back of your head, from the people around you, and only tonight did they finally spill. you were strong, and you could control your emotions better than most, but seeing him tonight with the woman blatantly trying to win his attention proved the fragility in your mask. you knew that accepting his hand in marriage meant having to have skin thicker than before, but after months of hearing the crude rumors of why he picked you out of anybody else chipped away at you before this was all that was left. 

“i didn’t want you to be my wife out of spite,” he takes a tentative step forward, hoping that you don’t cower away because of it, “i wanted you to be my wife because i loved you too much for you to be anything but.” he walks again, his long legs reaching you in a matter of milliseconds as he’s now closer than he was before, his striking eyes taking you in better as you look at him from above your lashes, not wanting him to see you this way.

“you are so smart yet sometimes you can’t see beyond what people tell you,” he murmurs, pulling you into his chest as you let him, this warmth something you knew you could no longer live without, “i will not let you leave.”

“but-” 

“listen to me,” he murmurs firmly, his fingers grasping your jaw as he lifts it up so you can see him. 

“i will not let you leave…unless you want to,” his thumb swipes away at the corner of your eyes, searching for answers, “do you want to?”

no, you don’t.

you want to stay. you want to wake up to his kisses and his gentle touch, the honeyed words he’d tell you as he held you close to his naked body. you wanted to stay and experience what it’s like having the strongest soldier as your husband, to know that he wouldn’t let a fly land on your head. you want him.

“no,” you look away, your cheeks heating up under his heavy gaze, “but-” 

“then don’t leave.” he cut you off again, shushing your doubts as he shook his head. his fingers trailed across your shoulders, long as you felt them travel down the cloth that covered your back, holding your waist as he ran them across the expanse of your body. 

he knew the things you told yourself sometimes, he’d comforted you those nights when the darkness sheltered your tears and all he could do was tell you that you were wrong and hold you close to his thumping heart. 

this was the furthest it had ever been. his heart was thumping erratically and he was sure it would jump out of his throat if you actually left.

“‘toru, i really think that….” you trailed off as he dropped his head down, his lips finding your neck as he littered wet kisses on your skin, mouth curling into a smile as he heard your breathing hitch. 

he gripped your hips tightly, undoing the knot that met in the middle of your collarbones, watching as your robe fell to show off your supple skin to him. you wanted to hide, never getting used to that hungry look that would take over his face as he eyed your breaths, his cheeks glowing pink as he nudged his thigh in between your two legs. 

“do you really think i could live without these?” he asked, his hands cupping your tits as he flicked his thumb over your pert nipples, your lips catching between your teeth to hide your whines, “without you?” his hands ran down your stomach, his nose rubbing against your cheek as he teased his lips over yours, a cruel grin threatening to make its way onto his stunning face as you tried to meet him where he was. 

“now you’re eager?” he taunted, getting drunk off of your helpless whines, enjoying knowing the fact that neither of you would be able to survive without the other, that he needed to breathe your air in order to live. he could taunt and tease you as much as he’d want, but in the end, he’d always oblige. 

he kissed you like a man starved, his lips crashing against yours as you let out a small gasp. he took the air from your lungs, your teeth clashing against each other as he held you to him, your nipples rubbing against his chest as he moaned into your mouth, wanting more. 

“want you, always want you,” you murmur against him, your fingers curling at the stray hairs at his nape, pulling him closer to you as you press up to kiss him again.

“then don’t ever say anything like that again,” he whispered, and for the first time that night you heard the vulnerability in his words, “i want you so bad that i can barely think straight without you.”

you wanted to apologize but he stopped you, already knowing the words that were going to come out of your mouth. He nipped at your lips, stealing your apology away silently, not wanting to see your pretty tears anymore, the sight hurting him more than any wound he’s attained in all his years as a warrior. 

dropping down to his knees as he breathed in your scent, his eyes rolling back as you tried to look away in embarrassment. He’d press kissed to your inner thighs, stopping just where you needed and wanted him most, taking your knee as he guided it upwards to rest on his shoulders, looking up at you as he rolled and smirked. 

“you think anybody else will love you like i do? treat you like this?” you shook your head, your fingers curling into his white hair as your head thumped against the wall, his hot breath fanning over your fluttering entrance as you whined out for him. 

“mmh, fuck,” he loved seeing you like this, beautifully naked, sweat dotting on your skin as you wrapped your leg around his back, “hurry up ‘toru,” you were impatient and he loved that about you. 

“anything for my wife,” he said, his mouth finally finding your clit as you let out a pleased cry, his fingers prodding at your dripping entrance as your eyes squeezed shut. this is where he loved to be most, the saccharine taste of you on his tongue, washing over his body as he grew taunt against his stomach. 

he sucked, his two fingers reaching deep in you as he curled them, switching them with his mouth occasionally as your grip on his hair grew tighter, guiding him up and down as he slurped your juices away, the sound echoing across the chamber. 

“just like that!” you moaned when he reached your spongy spot, your walls clenching around his fingers, your essence staining his chin as he looked up at you with a dopey look in his eyes, “fuuuck ‘toru,” your words were the sin that he longed for, tainting his existence with the presence of your love. 

he could feel you getting closer, his movements getting faster as he held one against your ass, cupping it as he brought you even impossibly closer to him, eating you out as he had never eaten a meal as good as this, and you did try to stop the noises that fell out of your mouth as you squeezed against him, creaming on his fingers as he brought you to your high, crying out his name as you tried to dig yourself against the wall.

your heavy breathing filled the room, your grip on his hair loosening up as he kissed your inner thigh one last time before disconnecting himself from your spasming pussy, grinning like a fool as he balanced himself on his haunches. 

“good?” 

“oh, shut up,” you muttered, still trying to catch your breath as he chuckled, standing up as he brought you to his chest once again. you would never get tired of him like this, your juices on his lips and chin as he looked at you like you were his god. 

he would argue that you most definitely were. 

he pressed his lips to yours once again, letting you taste yourself on him as you whimpered against his rapid movements, grasping onto his arms for support as you hooked a leg around his waist, your lashes fluttering against your cheeks.

you could feel him hard against your stomach, and you looked down, his robes not doing much to hide his length. 

“see what you do to me?” he said against the shell of your ear, your fingers running up and down his clothed cock, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling as you continued your motions, enjoying the way he dropped his head in the crook of your neck, “you’re mine.” 

“you flatter me,” you teased, your eyes still a little puffy but you cracked a smile, feeling him puff out a laugh as he shook his head, grasping onto your waist as though that was the only thing that could keep him standing. 

if only his enemies could see him like this; reduced to a mere mess all from your fleeting touch. 

“i’m being honest.” he sucks onto your neck, his nose nudging your jaw as you tug onto his clothing, your fingers grasping onto the sturdy fabric as you push it down, your eyes taking in his physique as he stands naked before you, the two of you finally even. 

“you’re so pretty,” you say, the words tumbling out of your mouth as your eyes rake over his abs, the faint scars that litter his torso, the white hair that leads down to his angry cock that leaks pre all over his stomach.

he snorts, rolling his eyes as he wraps your legs around his hips once again, hoisting your upwards like you weigh nothing as he rested his dick in between your puffy folds, cocking his head as he looked at you through his long lashes. 

“me?” he asks as you giggle softly, nodding as his heart flutters at the sound, “i wish. look at your eyes,” he presses a kiss against your lids, “and your nose,” he kisses the tip of your nose as you try not to laugh even louder, the giddy sound something he hopes the gods could hear so that would envy him and the woman he has in his hands, “and your lips,” he pecks them, “and your smart, smart head,” he presses another kiss against your hairline, balancing your body in his arms, “my beautiful wife.” he finishes, looking back at your flustered figure, proud of his work.

“stop,” you whine, not making any motion to actually stop him, bathing in the endless attention as he tapped his cock head against your clit, your laughs seizing as you look down, forgetting where you were, “you’re such a tease ‘toru.” 

“only because i love you so much,” he said, thrusting up into you as your mouth dropped open into a wanton moan, your head falling back as he took in a sharp breath between his teeth, never getting used to the way you clenched so tightly around him, making it hard to not come in just a matter of seconds. 

“f-fuck,” he moaned, his hot breath hitting your breasts as he dropped his head down to see where the two of you connected, slowly moving his hips as he moved in and out of you, his mushroom tip catching in your fluttering walls as your nails dug into his back, dragging red lines down as he began to rhythmically pound into you, “you’re so fucking tight,”

“mmmh!” you could only whine out, your words slurring in your mouth as you squeezed your eyes shut, the feeling of his dick thumping against you was better than any other feeling in the world, you could barely try to raise your hips up to meet him, but he took care of it for you, his strength never failing to amaze you, “l-love you so much ‘toru, m’sorry for w-what i said!” 

even if he was still caught up over it, he fucked you as if to make you forget about it. 

“my wife,” he’d mutter over and over again, searing the words into fate as he fucked you with so much love that it seeped out of his pores. Sweat caught on his brow and his cupids bow and you ducked down to kiss it away, the salty taste on your lips welcoming back as he feverishly kissed you back, “my wife.”

you loved the way his veins dragged up and down your walls, the rings of your essence and creams that frothed around the base of his cock, the way his thighs clenched as his fingers dug into your ass. 

this was something you knew you could never find anywhere else. gojo satoru was something you could never find anywhere else. 

“say your mine, f-fuck, say it,” he muttered against your skin, “need to hear you say it.” 

“m’yours!” your fingers tugged at his hair, your nails scratching his scalp as he welcomed the sting, “i’m only yours!” 

His eyes rolled back as you continued to flutter against him, his high coming faster than it usually would, but he knew that he couldn’t control it with the way you kept crying out his name in that honeyed tone of yours. 

“shit, i’m ‘gonna cum, cum with me, need to feel you cum around me…” he rambled on, your pussy made him crazy. And you were nodding your head, not knowing how to speak anymore as his hips shuddered, your releases spraying each other as he cummed deep into you, white trickling out from where he had you plugged out as you cried out from the pleasure that washed over your body. 

“you’re so perfect,” he whispered after a couple of seconds passed, and you were still trying to recover from your second orgasm of the night, his words warming your soul as he kissed your cheeks.

you looked up at him, suddenly bashful despite what happened, and he had the audacity to cackle at the sight. 

you were stunning always, but he loved this look the most. the sleepy but pleased look in your eyes as you clung to him, your arms draping from his shoulders as he walked with you connected to him, just as you should be. he loved the little smile that would always litter your lips after sex, knowing that if he were to die now he’d die a happy man.

“come on,” he kept you wrapped around his waist as he kept one hand under your ass and one tightly around his waist, “i’ll let you rest, but i need to get some things to clean you up.” his eyes trailed to the mess he made, trying not to let his cock harden at the white that painted your thighs and seeped out from your pussy, knowing you were too tired for another round. 

“i love you,” you muttered into his neck, pressing a kiss where your lips were and he shuddered. 

he squeezed you tightly to him, not knowing what he’d do if you were to leave. he was a man far gone, you had too much control over him to ever submit to any other king again. you were the only being who could tell him what to do, what to feel, and what to love. 

“love you most, my beautiful wife.”