#even when naked with everything exposed I still don’t feel like a woman

[danzainosolitude]

Is there a gender for cis girls who want to be girls

[livebeforeyoulearn]

Kiss It Off Me

Warnings: Smut, 18+

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: Alexia kisses away your insecurities.

-

The bathroom is still, the air cool against your skin, the mirror reflecting your bare body back at you in quiet scrutiny. Every line, every curve, every imperfection is laid out in front of you, stark and unfiltered. You find yourself standing there longer than you intended, your eyes tracing the familiar shape of your waist, the gentle swell of your hips, the fullness of your chest. In the privacy of this moment, there's no one to judge but yourself, but that’s the hardest part.

Your body is ordinary, a normal woman’s body – there’s nothing wrong with it. But the longer you look, the more you find yourself nitpicking. The soft flesh of your stomach, the way your thighs touch, the slight roundness that clings to your form. It’s not that you hate your body. You’ve lived in it, loved it at times, but tonight, it feels… inadequate.

And then the comparisons creep in, uninvited but persistent. Alexia – she’s built differently. Her body, honed from years of training and discipline, is strong, defined in ways yours could never be. You’ve seen her in moments of vulnerability, caught glimpses of her when she wasn’t thinking about how her body looked. The firmness of her abs, the sleek power in her thighs, the sculpted muscles in her arms that ripple under her skin when she moves so effortlessly. She’s athletic, a picture of strength and control, and suddenly you can’t help but wonder: what if your softness doesn’t appeal to her?

The thought sends a tightness curling in your stomach. What if she wants someone more toned, more disciplined? Someone whose body reflects the same kind of rigorous care and precision she pours into her own? What if she looks at you and wishes for something more – more muscle, a slimmer waist, more definition? The thoughts twist and coil, each one gnawing at your sense of self until you're left feeling small, insecure, vulnerable.

The weight of it presses down on you, heavy and suffocating, until you hear footsteps, soft but distinct, approaching the bathroom door. Alexia. Her presence is immediately recognisable, even in the muted sound of her movements. She stops just outside, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. For a moment, there’s silence, and then a gentle knock on the door.

"Hey... are you okay in there?" Her voice is warm, tinged with a hint of concern, as though she can already sense that something isn’t right. She must have noticed the lack of sound – the water isn’t running, and there’s no sign of you moving around.

Your heart lurches, panic bubbling up alongside the insecurity. You’re not ready for her to see you like this. You’re not sure you’ll ever be ready. You force yourself to respond, but your voice betrays you – shaky, uncertain.

"Yeah, everything’s fine."

The words come out unconvincing, hollow. There’s a pause on the other side of the door, and you can almost hear her thinking, weighing whether or not to push further. Her hesitation is brief before she speaks again, this time softer, more tentative.

"Can I come in?"

Your pulse quickens at the question, panic now seeping into your chest. You glance around, your mind scrambling for an excuse, something – anything – that will explain why you can’t let her in. But nothing comes to mind. The only thing you can think of is that you’re naked. Completely, utterly exposed.

"I– " You begin, your words faltering. “I’m naked.”

Before you can protest further, you hear it – a soft, muffled chuckle from the other side of the door, warm and affectionate, as though she’s amused by your hesitation.

"It’s fine," she reassures, her voice light, gentle. "I don’t mind."

Of course she doesn’t mind. Why would she? You’ve seen parts of each other before, shared moments of intimacy that, while tender, had never escalated to this. But this is different. This is full exposure, in every sense of the word.

You swallow hard, feeling the lump in your throat grow as your hand reaches for the lock, trembling slightly. There’s a moment of hesitation as you grip the cool metal, your body tense with anticipation, before you finally, reluctantly, turn it. The lock clicks softly, and you step back, your heart racing in your chest.

The door creaks open, slowly at first, as if even Alexia is aware of the tension that hangs in the air. When she steps inside, her eyes find yours immediately, her expression soft and curious. She takes in the sight of you standing there, arms crossed over your chest in a vain attempt to shield yourself from her gaze. Her eyes, warm and filled with affection, sweep over you with a quiet intensity that makes your breath hitch.

She smiles gently, her head tilting slightly as she looks at you, her voice a soft murmur. "Why do you look so nervous?"

The question is simple, but it catches you off guard. How can you explain the tangle of thoughts swirling in your head? The insecurities that have crept up on you, uninvited and unwelcome? You try to speak, but your words come out in fragments, stammering and uncertain.

"I just… I don’t know," you mutter, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

Alexia’s gaze lingers on you, her eyes narrowing slightly, not in frustration but in understanding. She steps closer, her presence comforting yet powerful, and reaches out for your arms. When her hands gently rest on yours, coaxing them away from your chest, you hesitate for a moment before allowing her to take them in her grip.

"You don’t need to hide from me," she whispers, her thumbs brushing small, soothing circles on the backs of your hands. "You’re beautiful."

The words are simple, yet they strike you deeply. You want to believe her. You want to take comfort in her reassurances, but the weight of your own doubts is heavy. You lower your gaze, unable to meet her eyes as the words slip out before you can stop them.

"I just feel… insecure," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "You’re perfect, and I’m just… me."

There’s a brief silence, and then a soft, almost resigned sigh escapes Alexia. When you glance up at her, you’re met with a smile – soft, understanding, and full of something deeper, something that makes your heart ache in your chest.

"And I love you being just you," she says, her voice steady and sure. "That’s what I’m drawn to. That’s what makes you… you."

Her words settle around you like a comforting blanket, and when she cups your chin gently in her hand, tilting your face up to meet hers, you feel the tension in your body start to melt away, slowly but surely. Her eyes search yours, and then, without another word, she leans in, her lips meeting yours in a kiss that is soft and tender, yet filled with an intensity that makes your heart race.

The kiss deepens, her lips moulding perfectly against yours, and you let yourself sink into it, into the warmth of her touch. When she pulls back, her lips still hovering just above yours, her breath mingling with yours, she whispers, her voice low and intimate.

"Can I show you how much I love you? For you, not just for what you look like?"

Your heart skips a beat at the question, the vulnerability in her words wrapping around you like a warm embrace. You nod, a small, tentative movement, and her smile returns, soft and full of adoration. She leans in to kiss you again, this time slower, more deliberate, her lips moving against yours with a tenderness that makes your chest tighten.

Her kisses trail away from your lips, moving across your face, each one more gentle than the last. She kisses the tip of your nose, your closed eyelids, your forehead, her lips brushing against your skin with reverence. Each kiss is like a promise, a quiet reassurance that she sees you – truly sees you – and loves every part of you.

When her lips reach the curve of your neck, you feel a shiver run down your spine. Her breath is warm against your skin, and the soft press of her lips sends a wave of warmth through your body. She lingers there for a moment, her lips moving slowly, tenderly, before she continues downward, her hands sliding over your hips, guiding you gently back against the cool counter.

Her lips trail lower, over your collarbone, her kisses becoming more insistent, more purposeful. Your breath hitches as her mouth finds your chest, her lips pressing softly against the sensitive skin. When she kisses the swell of your breasts, her touch is filled with such reverence, such care, that it makes your stomach flutter.

Your heart races as her kisses continue, each one sending a spark of warmth through your body. Her hands, steady and sure, glide down your sides, her fingers tracing the curve of your waist. You gasp softly when her mouth moves lower, her kisses now trailing down your stomach, each one making your skin tingle in anticipation.

When her lips reach the heat between your thighs, she pauses, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. The look she gives you is one of pure adoration, her gaze soft but intense, and when you part your legs for her, her smile widens ever so slightly. She leans in, placing a soft, lingering kiss just above your core, her breath warm against your skin.

The first touch of her tongue is gentle, exploratory, as if she’s savouring the moment. You gasp, your hands flying to the counter beneath you, gripping the edge as your body tenses in response to the intimate contact. Alexia’s hands are steady on your hips, her fingers firm yet gentle as she holds you in place. Her touch is confident, reassuring, a grounding presence against the building storm of sensation.

Her tongue moves slowly at first, teasing, tracing a path through your folds with a softness that makes your breath stutter. It’s almost too much, the intensity of the moment, the intimacy of it, but then she quickens the pace, her movements becoming more deliberate, more focused. Each flick of her tongue sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, her lips pressing firmly against your most sensitive places. Your legs tremble involuntarily, and you have to fight to keep yourself standing upright, leaning heavily against the counter for support.

Alexia seems to sense this, and her hands tighten around your hips, anchoring you, holding you steady as her tongue delves deeper. The way she moves is both precise and passionate, as though she’s fully absorbed in the act of pleasing you. There’s a rhythm to it now – her mouth working expertly, her tongue gliding over your core in a way that makes your entire body hum with pleasure.

A soft moan escapes your lips, unbidden, and you feel your knees begin to weaken. The sensations are overwhelming, building higher and higher with each stroke of her tongue, with every tender kiss she presses against you. It’s as though she’s everywhere at once – her mouth, her hands, her breath – and it’s consuming, intoxicating.

You can feel yourself nearing the edge, your body tightening in response to the growing pressure. Alexia’s mouth works faster now, her tongue moving with more intensity, and you can’t hold back the sounds that escape you. Your fingers dig into the counter, your knuckles turning white as your body begins to tremble under the force of the pleasure she’s giving you.

Her grip on your hips is strong, steady, as she holds you in place, her tongue never faltering. She knows exactly how to unravel you, exactly where to touch, exactly how to bring you to the brink. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your body trembling, and you feel the tension coil tighter and tighter inside you until it snaps.

Your release washes over you in waves, intense and powerful, and you cry out, your body shaking with the force of it. Alexia doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up. She continues, her tongue still moving, her mouth still working against you, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from your body. You can feel yourself tightening around her, the pleasure cresting again and again, until finally, you have to reach down, your fingers threading through her hair, pulling her back gently as the sensation becomes too much.

She looks up at you, her lips glistening, her face flushed with warmth and satisfaction. Her eyes meet yours, and there’s something almost reverent in the way she looks at you, as if she’s in awe of you, of this moment. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips before she stands, her hands sliding up your body as she rises.

When she reaches your face, her fingers cup your cheeks gently, and she leans in, pressing her lips to yours in a soft, tender kiss. You can taste yourself on her lips, the warmth of her mouth mingling with your own, and the intimacy of it sends a shiver down your spine.

“You’re perfect,” she whispers against your lips, her voice soft but full of conviction. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted… and more.”

Her words wrap around you, comforting, soothing the last remnants of insecurity that linger in your mind. You feel the weight of her love in every word, in every kiss, in every touch, and for the first time in what feels like hours, you allow yourself to believe her.

Alexia smiles again, her hands still cradling your face, and you can’t help but smile back. It’s a small smile at first, tentative, but it grows as she presses her forehead against yours, her breath mingling with yours in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“I find you so beautiful,” she murmurs, her voice low, almost a whisper. “Every single part of you.”

Your chest tightens at her words, a wave of emotion rising up inside you. You don’t know how to respond, how to express the gratitude, the love you feel in this moment, so you do the only thing you can – you kiss her. It’s a soft, lingering kiss, filled with all the emotion you can’t put into words, and when you pull back, you see the warmth in her eyes, the love shining in her gaze.

She pulls you into her arms, holding you close, her body warm and solid against yours. You rest your head on her shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest, the reassuring beat of her heart. Her fingers trace soothing patterns on your back, and you close your eyes, letting yourself relax fully into her embrace.

All your insecurities, all your doubts seem to fade away, replaced by the overwhelming certainty that Alexia loves you – not just for how you look, but for who you are. And that’s all that matters.

You stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside the bathroom forgotten. The quiet intimacy of the moment lingers, a sense of peace settling over you both as the warmth of her love surrounds you.

And in that silence, you finally feel free. Free to be yourself, free to love and be loved, just as you are.

[faerievampling]

His Pleasure

Summary: Ever since the defeat of the Netherbrain, Astarion and Tav work to help Astarion find his own pleasure in the bedroom.

Pairing: Spawn!Astarion x Female Tav

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: 18+. Explicit. Oral Sex. Cunnilingus. Blow Job. Hand job. Vaginal Fingering. Anal Fingering. Astarion being freaky because I said so.

Link to AO3!

****

“I certainly know how to use it, I just don’t know exactly what I want to do with it…” Astarion says as his ruby eyes sweep over you; he’s sat back on his heels, cock in hand, trying to make a rather difficult choice. You watch the muscles and veins in his hands flex as he squeezes his shaft; you know he wants this just as much as you.

The two of you hadn’t gotten this far before, not since the night he brought you to his grave. Astarion had been empowered then, but just as they say of soldiers in war, they are rarely traumatized during the battle. It is only after, when the soldiers are finally safe, that they feel the lingering horrors that reside only inside their minds, despite how real the danger still feels.

Astarion had made so much progress since then. He had found his safety in himself and you.

You see the pre-cum pooling at the tip of Astarion’s cock; he brings his hand around his tip, using his juices to lubricate himself, stroking his length as he makes his decision.

You lie on your back, your legs spread as Astarion sat between them. You had propped yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at Astarion pleasuring himself.

Your poor lover really didn’t know where to start. But his presence was evermore, and that was the most important thing. But you were interested in the choices he’d make seeking his own pleasure.

“Might I ask you a question? A mere thought experiment, of course.” You ask, your voice thick with desire.

Astarion perks up, his eyes bright as his free hand pushes his hair back before finding your leg. The elf is idly stroking himself as he gently massages your thigh, eyes sweeping over you with a deep seated hunger before he meets your gaze.

“Anything for you, darling,” Astarion is looking a bit feral, by this point, his lust beginning to going to his pretty head.

“What were the first things you liked about me? About my-ah, sex appeal?” You look at him through your lashes.

Astarion ponders your question for just a moment before his face shifts into something carnal and determined: you realize he’s just decided what to do with the naked woman in front of him.

“Bring your knees up to your chest,” He says, his voice low and commanding. You immediately do so, exposing your slick mound to him.

Astarion brings his hand to your folds, his finger and thumb parting your layers. The moan that comes from his mouth is guttural, animalistic, and you don’t think you’ve ever even heard this sound from your lover before.

You feel as Astarion’s fingers press into you, gently pinching the top of your mound, right where your swollen clitoris throbs for contact.

With your sex figuratively and literally in his hands, Astarion looks up to you, pupils blown wide with lust before he releases you, bringing his head between your thighs and wasting no time placing his lips on your swollen cunt.

The sensation of his lips on your flesh makes you shudder, only further igniting the raging storm between your legs.

His tongue carefully laps at your folds as he sucks your throbbing bundle into his mouth, his lips delicately circling you. His kisses are sloppy, uncontrolled, and you know he’s enjoying himself by the little whimpers that escape Astarion’s mouth as he drinks you in.

“Oh…” You moan just before Astarion’s motions cease. Breaking your kiss, Astarion brings himself back upright, a string of juices trailing from his pretty lips as you admire the slick on his face.

You’re about to ask if everything is alright when Astarion swiftly brings two fingers to your entrance, his fingers grazing your slit to capture your musky, honeyed essence before plunging them into you.

Already wet and ready, you accept him with no resistance, and Astarion reaches into your depths sooner than you anticipated, earning a shocked gasp from you as he’s already found your g-spot: that spongey, sensitive area that makes you sing when he touches it.

Your thighs twitch at the pressure, at the pleasure, and you’re already desperate to come for him.

Astarion hasn’t stopped smiling; you smile back at him just before he removes himself from you, bringing his two fingers between his lips to taste your depths.

Watching Astarion suck on his fingers, slick with your juices, ignites something deep and carnal inside you, threatening to tear your chest apart with something that could only be felt in a heated entanglement with a trusted, doting lover.

“Gods…” He says as he quickens his stroking, eyes sweeping over you again. “I don’t even know which part of you…” he trails off, bringing his forehead to your pelvis as he nestles his nose above your sex, drinking in the scent of you as he loses himself to his own stroking.

Astarion plants another kiss, with only a little bit of tongue, on your swollen clitoris before bringing himself upright, moving from between your legs to your side, his hands already on you, urging you into the position he wants.

“All of you is an option, I presume?” Astarion says as he gets you on your knees, a hand in your hair as he draws your head to face his member, large and throbbing in his hand as he brings the tip of it to your lips.

You realize Astarion hadn’t ignored your question earlier: you had simply introduced him to another conundrum of having to decide on his favorite part of you.

You wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, stroking him tenderly before you bring his swollen tip between your teeth, biting down gently before suctioning your lips around him, closing your eyes as you work to please your handsome lover.

“Mhm,” You moan, meaning to say yes, but your mouth is a little full. You only think you know what he means by this before you feel Astarion’s other hand reach around to your backside, a finger finding your tight, ringed entrance.

He presses on it, causing you to gasp on his cock, making him chuckle as he brushes his fingers through your hair. You look up, only to find Astarion looking at you as if you were some angelic being.

It was almost funny, the reverence in his eyes, because you knew how much of a mess you looked: cock in your mouth, salivating and dripping cunt with no release in sight, your hips tilted so that your lover could more easily insert the tip of his finger into your desperate ass, your muscle clenching around him as he plunged himself deeper into your entrance.

But it was real.

Masterlist

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2024: October 21st

Day 21: Gun Play // Monsterfucking // Shower - Bath Sex

Centaur!Marcus Acacius x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Virginal sacrifices, bondage, vaginal fingering, loss of innocence, monsterfucking, horse cock, curses

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

For the last three months, you have been led to this moment. Guarded and well-fed. Given everything that your heart desires and showered with presents, food, even jewels to wear. Your status in the region has been elevated. The wooden laurel on your head showcasing your purpose and strangers stopped you on the cobblestoned streets to give blessings to the gods for your sacrifice. 

Golden chains bind your hands and feet. Loose enough to allow you to walk, but still keep you from running away. Naked, you are paraded through the streets. Cheering Romans citizens throwing flowers and seeds in the air. Marking the traditional path that you will be guided by the centurions that are tasked with seeing you to your destination safely. Leaving you there to the whims of the beast. 

The last one hundred years has been marked with prosperity. The annual sacrifice made to the guardian of the lands insuring the year’s bounty. A virgin, chained to the altar in the clearing and left to be consumed by the beast. 

Over the years the citizens had learned not to anger the beast, knowing that if the woman provided was not a virgin, the sacrifice would be rejected. The year’s crops are destroyed by giant hooves that trample and destroy everything planted in the dirt. 

Through the city you are led, out past the fields that will be planted and into the edge of the woods that the beast makes its home. The stone altar comes into view and you shuffle to a halt as you stare at it. 

It’s not the typical altar that you would expect. It is a large stone, carved out and worn smooth over the years. The rings driven deep at certain points used to anchor your chains to it and keep you from escaping. 

It’s curved and odd shaped, making you wonder how you will lay on this. “Move.” The guard closest to you yanks on the chains and drags you forward. Making you swallow as the reality of your demise is quickly approaching. 

“Please. I-” You start to say that you need just a moment, but you are cut off.

The guards all tut, yanking you forward and starting to stretch your limbs over the altar and secure them to the rings. You are bent over, spread out and embarrassed by how vulnerable you feel even though you had just been paraded through the streets completely bare as the day you were born. Now you feel exposed, your womanhood on display and you close your eyes tight. 

They never say another word to you. The whistle is sharp and piercing, but the guards disappear from your limited vision, even as you try to twist your head to look behind you. It’s like they vanish into the mist that has started to gather along the edge of the trees. 

You wait, the silence starting to drive you mad. You’ve never been good at waiting, but it is all you can do right now. 

Until you hear the snapping of a twig. Your head pops up from where you had been laying it on the altar. Trying to twist around to see what is coming, but you can’t turn that far. Your arms are stretched out too far, you are bent too far over. “Who- who’s there?” You call out, another snapping twig makes your heart skip a beat. 

Something is coming. You swallow harshly and close your eyes, afraid that your time is up now and the beast is here. 

“Another one.” Your eyes spring open when you hear a voice. A man’s voice, weary. You shiver and tug on the chains. 

“Don’t- don’t release me.” You hadn’t meant to say that, but it is what pops out of your mouth. 

“Why?” There’s a sense of surprise in his voice, as if that was the last thing that he had expected to hear from you. 

“I- t-th-the beast-” you stammer, clenching your fist and swallowing harshly. “It- I am a sacrifice.” 

“A sacrifice.” He hums and you can hear the shuffling of feet behind you, making you tense again. It doesn’t sound like sandals on the hard packed ground around the altar. “For what?” 

“To the beast, so that there will be another year’s harvest.” You explain, unsure of how he doesn’t know this. Everyone knows that there is a sacrifice to the beast every year. 

“You are the first that did not beg to be let go.” The man seems impressed by that. Making you frown as you try to twist around more, to see who is behind you. 

“The first?” You don’t understand, trying to push up against the edge of the altar. To lift your head enough to see. 

“Sacrifice.” 

Your blood runs cold as you feel a hand slide up the left cheek of your ass. “What-” 

“The gods cursed me.” He speaks as if he hadn’t heard you. “Failing to win a battle they wished to be won.” 

You frown again, not understanding why he is telling you this. Or who he is. “I don’t understand.” 

He chuckles slightly and there is another shuffle, a set of hooves start to come into view. Making you frown even harder until your eyes trail up and you see that the hooves and body of a horse are attached to the torso of a man. A centaur. 

“Gods.” You gasp, eyes blowing wide and you gulp. “You- you’re the beast!”

“Guilty.” The man flashes you a startlingly attractive grin. His features are handsome, although he has a strong hook to his nose and his hair has gray in it. “Although I don’t eat the virgins brought to me.” 

“What do you do?” You are breathless as you ask the question. Unsure if you want to know the answer. This is not how you thought this would turn out. 

“Let them go.” He admits, lifting a brow. “None of them would help break the curse.” 

“Break the curse?” You ask, making him smirk as he watches you. He has to be lying. None of the other virgins had returned. None of them had come back to their families. The only ones that had survived had been the ones rejected. The ones who had later confessed that they weren’t virgins. 

“I have to take your purity to regain my human form.” It sounds incredulous, but then again, you are talking to a centaur. A mythical beast that was not supposed to actually exist. Centaurs were stories that mothers told their young to keep them from sneaking out into the woods alone.  

You choke out a laugh, understanding now why you are naked and secured to this stone in such a way. This was to allow it to be easy to mount you. 

“It is not a falsity.” He huffs, looking mortally offended by your laugh. “The catch is that I could mount a hundred virgins, but she must be willing to take me.” It had been crushing to discover the gods were especially cruel to add that little caveat to the entire thing. 

He watches you, you can feel his eyes on you as you think about what he has told you. You are chained to this altar, at his mercy but in reality - he is at your mercy. Without your willingness, he will still be stuck in his current form. 

“I am your sacrifice.” You remind him quietly after a few moments of silence between you. You had been chosen to give your life for the good of everyone. What did your virginity matter? “What you do with me is up to you.’

His nostrils flare, jaw clenching and he stares at you. Waiting for you to change your mind. Waiting for you to steal the hope that is flaring in his chest. He has never had a virgin offer him what you are gifting him with. 

“What is your name?” You ask, waiting for him to say something, do something. You had almost expected him to leap on you after agreeing, but he was still watching you. 

“Marcus.” He replies after a moment. “Marcus Acacius.” 

Your eyes widen, having heard the stories of Marcus Acacius. The general who had defied the emperor’s and had fought in the arenas of the colosseum. Some had said he had died on the sands, others said he had retired and lived out his life as an old man. You now know that he had not. He was standing in front of you, half man half beast. 

You tell him your name and bite your lip. “Will it hurt?” You ask, not sure what to really expect from a beast. 

“Probably at first.” He won’t lie about that, but he hopes that you don’t change your mind. The chance to be human again is being dangled in front of him like an enticing carrot. 

“O-okay.” Your voice trembles and you press your face against the stone to squeeze your eyes shut. “Uh- do- do it.”

He groans, cock under his belly starting to twitch and lengthen, pushing out of the protective sheath. Your cunt is on display and he can see that you will need some moisture to ease his cock’s passage inside you.

“I will get you ready.” It has been years since he has actually fucked a human, letting the sacrifices go and sending them away to live out their lives somewhere else.

This centaur, this monster, is actually considerate. He could have just mounted you and been done with it, there would have been nothing you could do to resist, but you feel his hands between your thighs. Human hands. Fingers probing and pressing, massaging until your mouth opens on a soft moan. 

“That’s it.” Marcus growls softly, approving of how wet you are starting to get. You seem to accept his touch, your folds slick after just a few minutes and he is already aching. Still he doesn’t rush. 

You’ve never been touched like this before. The mist has spread around you when you open your eyes, almost shielding any unwanted eyes from the altar. Isolating you from the outside world, or perhaps even transporting you to another realm. From the way he is touching you, he is taking you to meet the gods. Your moans start to get louder, more demanding. The chains around your wrists and ankles rattling slightly as you try to push your hips back, whimpering for more. 

You are a gift. A treasure. Marcus stamps his hooves impatiently, eager to mount you and feel how tight you are around the non-human cock he possesses right now. 

“I- I think- ooooooh!” You squeal when he presses his fingers just right and feel your core heat up, a rush of pleasure drowning you as you cry out. 

You’re ready. Marcus pulls away and starts to lift his front hooves onto the stone altar. It has been designed for his body, allowing him to hold himself up and position to mount the person strapped to the stone. 

You bite your lip, feeling the air moving as he shifts. This is happening. Your body tenses slightly when you feel something poking, but all you can think is how hot it is. It feels like it’s burning, branding you against your skin and when you feel the smear of liquid, you realize what is poking your ass. 

“I can’t help guide it in.” Marcus admits, his human body braced farther above you because of the angle. “Just relax. I will try to go slow.”

It takes him a few tries and you try not to squirm, reminding yourself that you are a sacrifice. Even if you had thought it meant your life, your virginity doesn’t matter. 

The thick, blunt horse cock of the centaur finally is pressed against your entrance and you take a deep breath. 

Marcus shakes in his need to push into you. Gritting his teeth, sweat beads on his forehead. Trying not to let the animal instinct take over. “Relax.” He cautions and starts to shuffle forward to break you open. 

It’s big. Bigger than you’ve ever even imagined and your cry is instinctual. Making Marcus snarl in response and his cock seems to be pushing up into your stomach but he just keeps going. The stretch of him is too much but it doesn’t even hurt, just overwhelms. 

Your fists clench together and you push back making yourself take him even deeper until his great length is fully buried in your virgin cunt.

“Fuck!” Marcus shouts, rearing up and sinking deeper before he starts to pull back. 

Once he has taken you, all you can do is hold onto the anchor that keeps you tied to the altar. Squealing and keening as he starts to move inside you and steals your breath away. 

Taking the heavy, thick thrusts of his enormous cock that seems to feel like a hammer driving into you. It hurts and feels incredible at the same time, ripping a sob from your throat as you imagine the scene you are making. This centaur, this creature, is driving into you again and again, breeding you. Fucking you. 

Marcus prances in his hind hooves as he fucks you, sinking deeper and deeper as your sweet virgin cunt opens up more, flowering for him and taking the rougher thrusts he is helpless to temper. 

That feeling in your stomach starts to curl again. Building up as he plows into you. The inhuman sounds he is making above you adding to the sensation and the slickness of your cunt grows. 

“Mar-Marcus!” Your gasp of his name is screamed out into the mists, the forest around you ringing with the sound as you start to chant it over and over again. Stars bursting behind your eyes and your entire world going dark with a loud roar and a rush of heat inside you. 

****

“Wake up. Wake up sweetheart.” Your eyes peel open slowly, body aching and you groan quietly. 

You’re on the ground, unchained from the altar and laying on a bed of soft down and leaves. Warm, concerned brown eyes staring at you in wonder as you come too, slightly disoriented and feeling like you have just woken from a dream. 

“You- you did it.” Marcus breathless exclaims. He looks down and your eyes follow his to find the very naked lower body of a man where the horse’s body had once been. “You broke the curse.”

“You- I did?” You frown but it turns into a smile when he beams at you, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. 

“You did.” He repeats. “And now I am yours for eternity.”

[dreamingofaizawa]

Mornings Like This

Shunsui Kyoraku x Fem! Reader

***This fic is rated R, if you are not 18 or older, please select a different novel, thank you***

Warnings: Penetrative sex (p in v), cockwarming(?), creampie, soft morning sex with Shunsui been eating my brain alive o.O

Word Count: 1.1k

Author's Note: Ok yeah this man...this MAN holy shit I just think he's hot okay? Lazy morning sex just FITS HIM too well, he's so attractive, I love him. I would let him do unspeakable things to me. Also if this man called me sweetheart I think I'd die on the spot

ANYWHO Enjoy <3

The rising sun is what wakes you, the warmth of its rays penetrating the exposed skin on your back. It’s a lovely morning, the breeze that flows through the barracks is cool and gentle and crisp. Every morning is a good morning though, when you wake up in Shunsui’s arms. He’s still snoring away, the rise and fall of his chest lifting your head with every breath. He’s so handsome like this. He’s handsome always, but especially on mornings like these, where he’s naked beneath you and his hair is loose over his pillows. You can’t help it when you allow your fingers to trace shapes into his chest, and move your hand up behind his neck to lean up and leave a sweet kiss on his lips. That wakes him up and he immediately leans into the kiss, his hands gripping your hips and feeling your skin give beneath his fingers. It’s meant to be a chaste kiss, a sweet and innocent press of your lips to his. But it isn’t long before you can feel something poking at your thigh.

“Shunsui, you’re hard love.” His chuckle is deep and full, makes your body warm from the inside out. 

“Yeah, I guess I am. You gonna do anything about it?” That voice could make you melt any day, and today is no exception. You don’t bother with the banter, you’re more than ready for him, even though you can feel the soreness settling in from your escapades last night. This man was going to drain you of all your energy and then some. It’s lazy, the way you move to straddle your legs over him, and only just barely lift yourself up enough to slip him right inside you. The both of you groan, surely still sensitive even after so many hours of rest. His hands clamp down harder on your hips when you fully seat yourself on his cock and grind your hips down onto it. 

“You’re going to be the death of me, woman.” You hum, wait for his grip to loosen and lie back down on top of him. His arms come around you and he flips the two of you on your side, curling his entire body around yours and wrapping your legs around his waist. He can’t be comfortable, with your leg beneath his side as he lays on it, but he seems unbothered when his arms tighten around you and he thrusts his hips up slowly. You can feel him deep inside you, rocking sweetly back and forth, hitting every little soft spot that makes you tremble in his hold. 

“Oh my pretty girl, already shaking? Hmm I must be doing something right.” You nod into his shoulder, arms tight around his neck. He turns his head to kiss your temple, pairing it with an especially hard thrust up into you. It’s enough to make you gasp and your cunt clenches down tight. 

“Ya gotta loosen up, sweetheart. I can’t move with you gripping so hard.” He lays another sweet kiss on your temple, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and massaging your hips to get you to relax. He’s always been good with his words of praise, lacing everything in a deep, honeyed tone.

“So good for me, my beautiful wife. Such a pretty little thing, aren’t you? So pretty I could stare at you forever.” When you finally do relax he’s pulling you down onto his cock while he throws his hips up, hitting deeper and harder. Your head is spinning, the pleasure pulsing through your body along with the beat of your heart. Your orgasm sneaks up on you, and you’re shaking like a leaf in the wind while Shunsui holds you tight and keeps fucking into you, pushing you into a field of pleasure you’re only familiar with when he’s desperate to cum deep inside you. His teeth grab the tip of your ear, then graze at your neck, and finally he bites at your lip as you both pant in the morning sun. A thin sheen of sweat has formed over the both of you, hot bodies interlocked and moving in tandem for pleasure. You kiss him then, deep and slow and tongues dancing together, and with one final thrust he’s cumming deep inside you, warmth filling the pit of your belly. 

“Thank you for that, sweetheart.” He untangles your limbs and rolls onto his back once more, lying you in the same position you’d woken up in, only this time he’s left his softening cock to plug up your poor pussy. It’s a mistake when you lean up to kiss him once again, an ‘of course, my love’ easily slipping through your lips. Just from the kiss, you can feel his dick jump to life, making him groan deep in his throat.

“Didn’t expect you to be ready so soon, Shunsui. And from a kiss no less.” He laughs at that.

“Obviously it’s because a beautiful girl like you just kissed me. I can’t believe such a gorgeous woman is my wife.” You have to giggle at that, the little flatterer he is.

“Shunsui, we’ve been married for 152 years. You can’t keep not believing I’m your wife.” He leans down and kisses you, rocking his hips up to make you gasp, taking the opportunity to invade your mouth with his tongue. You’re gasping when he pulls away, a devious grin on that handsome face of his.

“Maybe not, but I can surely appreciate every minute of it.” He stills his hips, relaxing all the way and holding you close. 

“152 years and I’m still madly in love with you. You do things to me, woman. Wonderful, devilish things.” You press a kiss into his chest, allowing your body to go limp in his grasp. 

“It’s a good thing I’m still in love with you too, then. We might have a problem otherwise.” He smiles down at you, and you return it, his hand brushing back the hair that had fallen in your face.

“It’s a good thing we don’t have a problem.” You nod, then lie your head down on his chest and listen to his heart beating. You feel all of him, his cock filling you, his strong arms wrapped tight around you, his fingers where they trace lines on your back, his breath on the crown of your head. You feel his chest rise and fall with every breath. You feel the love he pours into every action he takes with you, even an action so small as saying your name.

Nothing beats mornings like these.

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 21

Eminem x FemReader Fanfiction

Summary : Em just confessed his feelings to Y/N and is apprehensive of her reaction.

Tags : Fluff - SMUT - Bit of Angst ?

MARSHALL’S POV

Y/N was staring at him with big eyes. It wasn’t clear whether she was displeased, terrified, disgusted or God knows what else. He wasn’t the best at guessing how people were feeling anyway. He had just told her he was in love with her, right after they had sex. To be fair, he hadn’t planned on telling her, especially not at that moment… As seconds were going by, the silence was becoming painfully heavy. And to make matters worse, they were naked. One would have thought that the two of them being nude would have meant that there was some sense of equality in the situation, but given that he had just confessed his love - which was obviously unrequited - he felt even more exposed. If she hadn’t been prone to those nightmares, he would have left, but he couldn’t. Well, he could, but he wouldn’t. Just because she was silently rejecting him didn’t mean that he didn’t care about her wellbeing. 

I’m sorry, he said as he started to get dressed. I… obviously shouldn’t have said that. I’ll go on the couch. Just… Call if you have a nightmare or something, ok ? 

Why did you say that ? She asked, as she pulled the cover over her naked body. 

Because I think orgasms are much better when there’s awkwardness right after, he said sarcastically. 

She kept on staring at him. Now, she looked more sad, and a little mad too. Her mouth was slightly twitching, as if she was about to cry. 

I’m sorry, he said as he pinched the area between his eyes. 

About what ? She said hoarsely. 

About everything, I guess. But mostly for telling you I’m in love with you, he replied. 

He stared at her for a second. Her mouth was slightly open and her eyebrows were furrowed. She really looked as if she was about to cry but, as selfish as it was, he just needed to be in a different room right now, in order to process his emotions. He was feeling a knot in his stomach and was starting to realize that whoever said confessions made you feel lighter was definitely a liar : it felt like he had the biggest weight on his shoulders right now. He mumbled a “Good night” and went through the door. He was in the staircase when the door to her room flew open and she went after him. 

You don’t love me, she said sternly. 

As a matter of fact, I’m very aware that I do, he replied a bit more curtly than he originally intended. 

She was naked and her hair was all messy. Still, in the dim light of the corridor, she looked like an ethereal vision, something you could see in a painting. If he had a pen and paper, he would definitely draw her. Or maybe he would if he didn’t have to deal with a painful rejection. Being turned down was one thing, but being turned down by a naked woman who looked like a goddess was another thing. More painful, in his opinion. Y/N was frowning and had a pout on her face. 

I don’t understand, she said. 

I don’t think I could be any more clear, Y/N, he replied. I am in love with you. Obviously, this is very unilateral and I’m sure you wished I hadn’t said that, but now that the words are out, I don’t plan on taking them back. I know it’s uncomfortable for you, and I am very sorry about that because I did not plan on telling you, but now you know. 

But… Why ? She asked. 

He stared at her in disbelief. Was she actually asking why he was in love with her ? She was absolutely amazing but she needed to take a fucking hint. Didn’t she understand that he needed to be alone with his feelings ? That she was breaking his heart ? In his many years of therapy, he had made some progress when it came to dealing with his emotions, but it was evidently not enough. He was starting to feel anger pending. 

I’m not having this conversation with you right now, he said calmly as he tried to pace himself. Go to sleep, alright ? 

I can’t sleep with what you just told me ! She shrieked. 

And I can’t look at you right now ! He yelled. Can’t you give me one fucking minute, Y/N ? I can’t look at you, all naked, rejecting me. You don’t feel the same and that’s ok. I mean, it fucking sucks, but I’ve been feeling this way for a while, so I’ll deal with it eventually. But I’m not a robot, alright ? 

You should have told me earlier, she whispered. Why didn’t you tell me earlier, Marshall ? 

Because you have a fucking boyfriend, Y/N ! He roared. Because there’s a fucker always taking you on dates and showering you with gifts and affection. Because you keep going on and on and on about him and how great he is. And Hailie, and Talia, and Jamal too. Because I keep getting these stupid pictures of you in our group chat, at sunset, at shows, at fucking pottery classes or God knows what else. Because it hurts me every fucking time and I have to deal with the pain of knowing that the woman I love will never be mine. So excuse me for not setting myself for heartbreak here. If I had been able to help it, I wouldn’t have fucking told you that. You have your lobster and I’m glad he’s great, but don’t expect me to be happy to feel like the tiniest shrimp in the ocean. 

He realized he was screaming at the top of his lungs. He was panting. Y/N’s eyes were glowing with the tears welling up in them. He swallowed dryly and quickly got downstairs, making his way to the garden. It was a cold night, but he could use the fresh air. He enjoyed the darkness and the silence for a second, before Y/N barged in, still naked and barefoot on the grass. 

Go back inside, he said as he stared at her nakedness. 

Shut up ! The only reason there’s a fucker taking me to pottery class is because you are the one who started dating !!! I am the one who’s been in love with you for months and had to keep my mouth shut about it. I was going to tell you in New York, but there was always Paul or security around. And then, there was Nicole. So you don’t get to make this about yourself, Marshall ! You don’t get to say you’re in love with me only to leave the room and say I don’t love you. Because I do ! I love you more than I have ever loved anyone and it hurts like hell !!! She yelled, louder than him. 

You do ?! He asked in disbelief. 

Yes I do. You’re my best friend, you know me better than anyone else, you’re always here when I need you, you are the most attractive man I have ever met, the most talented, too… You’re smart, kind, funny, generous and, oh my God Talia was right, the most dramatic person I have ever met. How could I not fall in love with you ?! She blurted out. 

He stared at her, completely stupefied. He had absolutely no idea. He was at a loss for words, in absolute shock. 

I am yours, Marshall, she whispered. I have been yours since the day we met. 

In the matter of a second, he was all over her, wrapping his hard around her body and kissing her violently, hungrily. She responded passionately. 

Say it again, he ordered. 

I’m yours, Marshall, she repeated. 

I love you, he said softly. I love you so fucking much. 

I love you too, she whispered with tears in her eyes. 

He kissed her tenderly and carried her in his arms, bridal-style, walking back inside of the house. 

I could have walked, she giggled. 

I know. But I’m the most dramatic person you’ve ever met, so I have to live up to the standard, you know ? He replied with a smirk before gently letting her on the living room couch. Although, I think you’re a serious contender for the title. 

I’m not, she chuckled. 

Says the crazy woman who professed her love for me in the garden, at night, NAKED ?! 

They burst out in a fit of laughter. He kissed her again, and again, and again. 

Have I told you I love you, yet ? He mused as he intertwined his fingers with hers. 

Mmmh… I don’t think you have, she giggled. 

Well… I love you, he said softly. 

She giggled and nuzzled his neck. He leaned into her touch. She was his and he was hers - nothing could make him happier. He kissed her temple and took her hand before leading her back to the bedroom. She put some clothes on and they got under the covers, cuddling the shit out of each other. 

I have a confession, she said softly. 

Another one ? He mused. 

Well it’s kind of related. I mean… I sort of… already told you I love you. You just don’t remember, she said as she blushed. 

I think I would remember, he chuckled. 

To be fair, you were sleeping, she explained. We were in the hospital, you were sleeping on the bed and I told you. I think I needed to. 

You’re kidding right ? He burst out laughing. I told you I love you, in the hospital. Before you woke up. 

You didn’t ?! She asked in disbelief. 

I did, he said as he stroked her cheek. When I saw you laying there it just… it hit me like a gut punch. I knew I had feelings for you long before that, but seeing you like this, wondering if you were going to wake up… I had to tell you. Even if you weren’t listening because you weren’t awake, I needed you to hear it. 

His voice was emotional. He was speaking from the heart, and even the simple thought of her in that coma was enough to break his heart. He was upset at the idea of anything happening to her.  

I am so happy you’re ok, he added as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. So happy that you’re here. 

I love you Marshall, she said softly as she ran her fingers in his back. 

For the first time in ages, he allowed himself to be fully relaxed and vulnerable. It didn’t happen too often, especially not when he was with a woman. In his past relationships, especially after his divorce, he had gotten used to being more distant, not showing his emotional side too often. But with Y/N, it came naturally and, even though it was definitely scary, he had to admit it felt good. Eventually, they went to sleep, and he had his most peaceful night in ages. 

Y/N’s POV 

When you woke up, you were in Marshall’s arms. You had fallen asleep whispering sweet “I love you”s to each other. You had to pinch yourself to make sure it wasn’t a dream. You were definitely in a good mood for the rest of the day. It was about noon and Marshall was sleeping soundly, holding you close to his chest. You gently tried to remove his arms but they were so tight around you that it was nearly impossible. 

Don’t even think about leaving this bed, he groaned in his deep (way too sexy) morning voice. 

If you let me get up, I’ll make you pancakes, you whispered in hope it would motivate him. 

If you stay in bed, I’ll make you cum, he replied with a smirk. 

You let out a gasp. You should have gotten used to it, after all this time, but the way he could be so blunt when talking about some things - namely sex - always surprised you, and never failed to make you blush. He let out a giggle and tightened his embrace as his fingers traced circles on your hips. 

What do you say, pretty girl ? He asked. 

I’ll allow it, you said playfully. 

He hummed and slid his hands underneath your tee-shirt, gently cupping and massaging your breasts. The sensation of his cold fingers against your warm skin was delicious and definitely arousing. It was soft and sweet. Or so you thought until you felt him pinching your nipples and sucking on your neck simultaneously. You were still in the spooning position, him behind you, and you could feel how hard he was, which only increased your wetness. You thought you’d stay in this position but your lover obviously had other plans, as he had you lay on the mattress, face in the pillow. He spilled kisses on your neck, going down to your shoulders, your back, your hips… before eventually helping you get rid of your clothes. 

I want to take you, babygirl, he groaned in your ear. Are you ok with that ? 

Yes, you whispered. 

I’ll be gentle, don’t worry, he said before kissing your neck. 

He wasted no time before entering you slowly. As soon as he was inside, you felt complete. It seemed like you were able to feel every inch of him, while becoming aware of areas and spots inside of yourself you didn’t know could be stimulated. Marshall was moving slowly, taking his sweet time and every opportunity to kiss you. 

You feel fucking incredible, my love, he whispered. I love you so much. 

I love you, you said. 

He picked up the pace, causing you to gasp. He immediately stopped moving. 

Are you ok ? 

You feel so big, you whined. 

We can stop, he said reassuringly. 

No, you pleaded. Keep going. I can take it. 

Good girl, he said with a grin. 

You never knew you could enjoy being called a « Good girl » in bed, but something about the way he said it just sent chills to your spine. You wanted to be a good girl for him, to have him praise you for taking him… something in him just called to your submissive side. He started pounding and you clutched at the bedsheets while you let out deep moans. You thought you were close to orgasm when he stopped. 

Don’t stop, you whined. 

Get on top, baby, he said. 

You let out a groan and he softly chuckled as he laid down, taking a good look at you. 

You gotta work for it, he grinned.

You straddled him and lowered yourself onto his shaft, taking all of his length. He laid still, letting you do the work with a satisfied smirk. His hands were wandering around your body, caressing your skin. You let your head fall back as you felt a wave of pleasure coming your way, trying not to lose the rhythm in your hip movements. Marshall ran a hand through your hair and, as you quickened your pace, you could feel his grip tightening. You let out a little cry. 

Sorry, he said softly. Didn’t mean to pull it, baby. 

Do it again, you moaned. 

Oh yeah ? He grinned. 

He gently pulled your hair, causing you to moan again. It felt so good. It wasn’t too painful, it just made you feel like he was in control and you loved it. Your movements were starting to become sloppy and, as much as you wanted to keep going, your thighs weren’t cooperating. He let out a laugh and held your hips tightly before taking control of the situation. He started to quicken the pace and pull your hair at the same time, harder. This had you lose your mind, immediately sending you over the edge. You thought you had reached your apex but he kept going, bringing his hand to your clit to stroke it. You clenched around him and your muscles contracted like never before as you moaned his name. He whimpered and you could feel him twitch inside of you as his release came. You collapsed on top of him, after what was probably the most intense orgasm of your life. You had tears streaming down your cheeks and were shivering. He gently wrapped you in his arms before pulling the cover over your bodies. The two of you dozed off for a minute before being brought back to reality by your phone ringing. You grabbed it and saw Josh’s name on the screen. You froze and kept staring at it. Obviously, you didn’t feel like taking the call when you were naked, in another man’s arms. 

You’re not answering ? Marshall asked, his eyes still closed. 

It’s Josh, you said sheepishly. 

He huffed and opened his eyes, staring at you. The look on his face was indecipherable. He seemed calm, but you could swear his eyes were a shade darker. He was staring intently. And of course, being the coward that you were, you didn’t really want to hold his gaze. It was just starting to dawn on you that you had cheated on your boyfriend. Of course, last night, you knew the person you were kissing and having sex with wasn’t Josh, but at the moment, you didn’t care. Because you were focused on the overwhelming feeling of being with the man you loved. The man who literally haunted your dreams. So, as awful as it was, you didn’t hesitate when it came to kissing him back. You could have. You probably should have. But you didn’t. It was evident that you had to break up with Josh. You had to. In retrospect, it was clear that you’d been lying to yourself long enough. You were starting to come back to earth and it was bittersweet. You had always been so vocal about your distaste for cheating and lying and you weren’t too sure how you were supposed to look at yourself in a mirror. You sighed, feeling as if you were about to cry at the realization that you had turned into a horrible person. 

Y/N ? He asked softly. Are you alright ? 

Not really, you admitted. I mean… I cheated on the most supportive, loving boyfriend I’ve ever had, so… 

Do you regret what happened between us ? He asked carefully. 

I regret cheating, you explained. I don’t regret what happened between us but I regret the way it happened. 

Right, he said. 

There was a brief moment of silence. He gently stroked your shoulder and placed a comforting kiss on it. 

You know, I could lie and tell you I’m sorry, but I’m not, he said. 

Thanks, you said sarcastically. Very comforting. 

Let me speak, honey, he said. I know he is great to you and that, on some levels, he might be better for you than I am. I mean, he’s a corny fucker who doesn’t deserve you, but from what I gathered, he’s good to you, he takes you on great dates, he’s your age and you have a lot in common. It makes sense that you’re sad about it. Hell, I could even understand if you considered staying with him, you know ? Because, some things, I’m never going to be able to give to you. I’m not going to lie : I suck at dating, I’m not able to take you to cool places, I’m not nearly as smart… But I can tell you one thing : he will never love you as much as I do. He will never support you like I do. If you let me, I will do my best to give you everything you deserve, want and need. I swear I will do anything to make you happy. I promise you will not regret it. 

I love you, you said emotionally. 

I love you too, he replied. So… Will you give me a chance ? 

Yes, you said. Of course. I told you, Marshall… I’m yours. 

He cupped your cheek with his hand and smiled softly before pulling you in for a kiss. It was a deep, emotional one. “Mine”, he whispered as your foreheads rested against each other. You rested in his arms for a while, exchanging sweet words. 

I have to go, he sighed. My daughters are coming to my place this afternoon. 

Ok, you said softly. Is it too much if I say I’m going to miss you ? 

Definitely, he chuckled. But I’m going to miss you too, so it’s ok. I’ll see you tonight anyway, for Talia’s birthday party. 

Yeah… About that, you said awkwardly. 

Mmmmh ? He asked, squinting his eyes. 

Josh is going to be there, you know ? Talia invited him, you said. 

Is this the part where I have to specify that I am not big on sharing ? He asked with a raised eyebrow. 

I know, you said. But everyone’s expecting him to be here and you know how Talia is about her birthday… She’s the star of the show. It’d be rude of me to announce my breakup on her big day. 

Makes sense, he sighed. But you’re breaking up with him, right ? 

Yes, you said. But later. 

How late is later ? He asked. 

I don’t know, you said sheepishly. 

He nodded and started to get dressed. The smile on his face had been replaced by a slight frown. 

Are you mad ? You asked. 

Nope, he said. I get it. But I can’t say I’m happy either, you know ? Everytime I see you with him… It hurts a bit. Because I want to be the one holding your hand. I want to be the one kissing you. I want to be with you. I want to be your lobster. 

You’re not my lobster, you chuckled. You’re my whole ocean. 

Your words brought the smile back to his face. He chuckled and kissed you tenderly before leaving. 

MARSHALL’S POV

He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face after leaving Y/N’s place. For the rest of the day, he kept on smiling like an idiot. He thought he was being discreet but he thought wrong. As soon as his daughters arrived, they picked on his good mood. 

What’s making you so happy, Dad ? Alaina asked. 

I’m always happy to see you girls, he shrugged. I don’t get to see the three of you that much without your boyfriends or husbands, these days. 

I don’t believe you, Stevie chortled. You were humming a song. 

Well, Steve, that’s my job, he retorted with a smirk. 

You’re full of shit, she replied.

Language, he playfully warned. 

They had a great afternoon, talking and playing video games. He loved hanging out with his daughters and he was glad it was just the four of them. They had all found great partners and he couldn’t be happier, but sometimes, he missed the days when they all lived together. The house was starting to be a bit empty without them, especially since Stevie moved out. Since then, he had become even more of a workaholic. He had spent so much time dedicating to his role as a Dad that having his youngest move out of the house had taken its toll on him. So everytime he got to spend time with his daughters, he was the happiest person in the world. This time, though, his mind was wandering. He kept on thinking about last night. Y/N loved him. She was his. She had spent a whole night in his arms. Their first night as more than friends. This made him feel like a teenager in love. Usually, he would have mentally slapped himself for being so cheesy, but this time, he didn’t care. He would never admit to being so soft, obviously, but with her, he didn’t care. 

Dad, are you listening ? Hailie asked. 

Of course, he lied. 

What was I saying ? She teased him with a grin. 

Something about your… podcast ? He tried with a smile. 

All three girls burst out in a fit of laughter. Evidently, he had failed the test.

Sorry, he said. Lots on my mind. You were saying ? 

I was asking if everything was alright with Nicole. 

I’m not seeing her anymore, he simply replied. 

Why ? She asked. I thought it was going well. 

Well it was, and she’s great, but I don’t think it’s going to work, he said. Too many schedule conflicts. 

That’s too bad, Alaina said. 

It is what it is, he said with a smile. 

He knew his daughters would be a bit disappointed when he told them he wasn’t seeing Nicole anymore. He usually didn’t discuss his private life with them, but seeing as it was Hailie who had arranged the whole thing, his relationship with Nicole had been a bit of an exception. Ever since they had learned he was dating someone - however new it was - they had been ecstatic. In the past, he had introduced a couple of girlfriends with whom things had become serious, but it had been a while now. He wondered how things would turn out with Y/N, and whether or not he would introduce her to them as his girlfriend. Obviously, they were just getting started and he didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but he had a good feeling about their relationship. His relationship with Kim aside, he had never had such strong feelings for someone before even dating them. This one was special and he knew he had to step up his game and do his best not to fuck it up. 

The evening came and he got to the restaurant where Talia was celebrating her birthday. She was just getting back from her birthday trip with Jamal and had planned a lavish dinner at a fancy place. Everyone from the studio had been invited, as well as many other people. Normally, he would avoid such an event like the plague, but he actually liked Talia. They had become pretty good friends since he started hanging out with Y/N. Plus, he had confirmed his presence as soon as he had learned Y/N would be there - obviously, that was before learning that Josh had been invited as well… As soon as he arrived, Talia engulfed him in a hug and told him he would be seated next to Y/N, who would be between him and Josh. Ironically fitting to the situation. 

When she walked through the door, she was absolutely stunning. Josh was by her side, holding her hand. As she approached to “greet” him, he noticed she wasn’t wearing her sobriety pendant. It had been replaced by another necklace, a dainty gold heart pendant. He tried not to overthink it, but it definitely caught his attention. Josh also came to him and they shook hands. During dinner, he didn’t talk much. He could see Josh being all over Y/N, touching her every chance he would get. He’d been envious of that dude before, of course. Countless times, he had been the one who got to be with her, but he had always managed to keep his feelings in check. This time, however, it was different. Because she was his. And there was no way he would let Josh get away with it. Y/N was talking to Talia, who was in front of her, while Josh was holding her hand. He felt the need to remind her that he was there and that she was his. Just in case she’d forgotten. He made sure no one could spot him and rested his hand on her thigh. God bless tablecloths. He tried his best not to smile when she seemed slightly startled, although she didn’t stop her conversation. He gently started stroking her skin, going under the hem of her dress and he could see her blush slightly. 

Are you alright, Baby ? Josh asked her. 

Sure, she said with a smile. I’m… perfectly fine. 

Josh’s phone started to ring and he stepped outside to answer. She turned to him. 

What are you doing ? She whispered, confused. 

Bathroom. In two minutes, he whispered back before getting up. 

The many guests were busy talking and over-indulging in champagne so they would be most likely not to notice people getting in and out. He went to the bathroom and waited for her. A couple of minutes later, she stepped in, looking flustered. He could not resist the temptation to kiss her. He grabbed her lips passionately, bruisingly. 

Marshall, she whispered. Have you lost your mind ? 

I’ve just about lost my patience, Y/N, he said with a grin. If he touches you one more time, I swear… 

But he’s my boyfriend… 

And you’re mine, he reminded her. 

She looked at him, nervously biting her lip. He pulled her in and buried his face in her neck, teasing her sweet spot and causing her to moan softly. He started sucking on it harder but she stopped him. 

You’re crazy ! It’s going to leave a mark ! 

Maybe that’s what I want, he replied. 

Marshall, she said sternly. 

You better tell him to beat it or I will, he groaned. 

You wouldn’t. 

Want to bet ? He asked with a grin. 

She stared at him with an annoyed expression, but she wasn’t too convincing. He chuckled and kissed her again. 

Don’t try me, baby. Nice necklace, by the way. 

He stepped out of the bathroom and went back to the table. She joined him moments later, pretending as if nothing had happened. Josh came back shortly after and resumed the conversation. The evening went on and, in spite of a few people coming and talking to him, he still focused on Y/N, gazing at her whenever he got the chance. He was about to leave when he caught a conversation between her and Josh. 

You are so beautiful tonight, he said. Would you like to go back to my place and have a sleepover ? I missed you like crazy yesterday… 

I don’t know, she said softly. It’s late and I have work to do… 

I was thinking that maybe we could let Talia and Jamal have some alone time and… have some of our own, he said with a smile. 

He could have been a grown man and let it slide. But he was far too petty. He grabbed a glass of water and pretended to have a sip while he walked past Josh and “accidentally” spilled all over his shirt. 

Sorry man, he said. I didn’t see you there. 

Shi… I mean, it’s fine, Josh said. It happens. 

What can I say ? I’m clumsy, he shrugged. Anyway, I’m leaving. Goodnight. 

Y/N was staring at him in disbelief. She knew him too well and she probably could tell he was being an ass for the sport. He flashed a grin and left. It was probably for the best anyway : if he had to hear Josh mention having “alone time” with her, he would probably trip him down the stairs. He went back to his place. 

About three hours later, he was in bed reading a comic book and about to go to sleep when he heard his doorbell ring. He went to open the door and saw Y/N standing there. She had changed into some leggings and a hoodie and was wearing his pendant again. 

You really are an ass, do you know that ? She asked with a slight grin. 

Good evening to you too, he chuckled. I see you have refined your taste in jewelry again. What do you want ? 

Well I thought you might be interested in knowing that I have just become single, she said. 

You couldn’t be more wrong, he said as he pulled her to him for a deep kiss. You are very much spoken for and I’m going to prove it to you. 

[obetrolncocktails]

Touch | Josh Kiszka X Plus!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Discussion of being plus sized, allusion to trauma related to being plus sized, "Fat," Minors DNI: graphic sexual content, oral (f., m. giving and receiving), unprotected sex, pullout game, finish in mouth...

Summary: You had spent so many years of your life accepting that you were fat and that you'd be alone forever. If you couldn't have a man that loved you for you, you'd do just fine alone...until Josh Kiszka walked into your life.

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: this was refreshing to write! Especially since it's been a long time since I've written for you guys. I hope you enjoy this one!!

“Have you tried Weight Watchers? Considered exercise? Keto! I’ve heard people lose like crazy amounts of weight on that diet.”

Diet: A simple, four letter word that was the undoing of your confidence since the fifth grade. “Slow down, you’re eating like a pig,” your mother had said to you one night at the dinner table. She didn’t know how hurtful and lasting her harsh words were, but they still linger today. You still hear her words. Every time you look at social media and step out of the comfort of your home, you’d face the truth that fat people just don’t belong. You’d lived many years within the category ‘fat,’ and had a chronic habit of denying yourself the freedom of genuinely living without giving a fuck what anyone thought. And you thought you’d live that way forever, doomed to repeat the cycle. Until Josh. 

And now, here he was, buried flush between your legs, eating you out the best you’d ever received a man or woman’s mouth. Ever. 

Well laugh it up bitches–because he’s fucking me like there’s no tomorrow in my own bed, in my own apartment. He knows I’m fat–and he LOVES it. Except I’m wasting time feeling sorry for myself. 

“Hey, hey hey,” Josh said, lifting himself off of you and propping himself up on his forearms. “You’re not here right now,” he said, reaching for your thigh to stroke the soft, supple skin. “Should we stop?” He asked carefully, his deep, chocolate eyes searching yours, pulling you from your thoughts back into the dimly lit room where you both lay naked, exposed before one another. 

You shook your head no. “Please no..” You said finally. “I was just thinking…” You spoke, considering if you wanted to pause to have the conversation with him or not. He didn’t resume, but you didn’t really expect him to, either. He knew you too well and was an expert at deciphering you, no matter if you wanted him to or not. He sat up straight, sitting with his legs folded underneath him. 

“Talk to me,” he asked softly. “What are you thinking about?” He reached for your hands and pulled you upright.  You closed your legs and sat up with your legs crossed, debating of whether to tell him the truth. You decided to because you  knew that he cared enough to listen through whatever was bothering you, and he wouldn’t jusde you for it, either.  

“I’m thinking about me being fat,” you blurted, feeling the words spill from your tongue, sparing no thought to smooth over how bluntly they filled the room. 

“Okay,” he said, holding out the last syllable in a matter-of-fact tone. “What about it?” He asked, unaware of the weight that the three letter word had on your tongue and brain for so many years. 

Fat.

“I don’t know, I just kinda sabotaged myself, I think.” Josh reached to secure both of your hands in his. “Started thinking about all the hateful shit people have said to me and I just kinda got distracted.”

“Did I do something to make you think about those things?” He asked softly, his tone completely neutral. He hadn’t done anything, no. But he did touch you. His hands had smoothed over every inch of your body. Every roll, every divot, and imperfection was caressed, kissed, and admired by him. Even so, it took everything in you not to wince when his fingertips grazed the parts of your body you wished you could hide, conceal, chop off… 

“No, you didn’t do anything,” you told him. “You touched me.” 

His gaze muddied with confusion, because duh! Of course, he had touched you. “You don’t understand,” you continued. “You touched me tonight in places that I would never let anyone even look at. You touched my belly a few minutes ago and it made me start to overthink,” you explained, feeling both embarrassed and stupid. Nonetheless, you needed him to know, so you kept going. “It made me think about all of the awful things people have said to me. Done to me. Even my own mother.” You averted eye contact with him for a moment before looking back at him. “It wasn’t you, I promise. I’m sorry.” 

You hadn’t noticed, but the entire time you spoke, his thumbs softly stroked the skin of your hands as he held them, silently listening to every word, watching your every move. He let silence drift through the room for a long moment before speaking again. “Y/n, you don’t ever have to apologize to me for being honest,” he assured you with understated intensity. “Never–and I’m so sorry you’ve gone through those things. I wish I could take that pain away from you, but I can’t,” he said honestly–and he was right. He couldn’t undo the years of scrutiny you’d been given. 

“But I can tell you and show you how much I love your body,” he said, his eyes deepening. “I won’t touch anything that makes you feel insecure, but I want you to know. I don’t care that you’re fat. I don’t care what you weigh. I don’t care what you eat. I don’t care if you exercise. I only care that you know that you are wanted. Very, very much, might I add.” The final words came out of his mouth hungrily, and looking up at him you could see his cheeks clearly flushed with need. 

You looked into his eyes, and he didn’t waver. With the depth of his gaze, you knew he was telling the truth. He wanted you in this moment, but you needed to let him in. You sat for another moment before declaring, “Then show me. Show me, Josh.” You said, opening yourself back up to him. 

“May I touch you again?” He asked first, verbally requesting permission from you. 

“Anywhere.” 

“Anywhere?” He nodded as if to convince himself that he heard you correctly. 

“Anywhere,” you affirmed, pulling him by his arm to once again take you with his mouth. And just like that, he was on top of you, his mouth on yours in a breathy kiss. His lips and tongue tasted of you, surging more warmth between your thighs as his approach intensified, his lips breaking from yours to travel down your neck to the swell of your full breasts, his tongue finding and circling around an erect nipple, flicking it playfully in his mouth before applying gentle suction. Next came his fingertips; His hand had wandered undetected, landing between your thighs, his fingertips fluttering gently upon your clit and folds, deftly rolling soft spirals around the bud, collecting and dispersing a thick layer of of your own slick upon the sensitive skin. Your back arched reflexively against his touch and you bit at your bottom lip as he pressed his weight against your body, holding you down against the bed. His lips dragged from your tits to your belly, sucking hot wet kisses onto the supple skin however and wherever he pleased, determined to leave proof of being there.

“Still okay?” he asked in a low, husky murmur. 

“Absolutely. Don’t stop,” you nodded enthusiastically, squeezing his free arm. You fell back against the pillows, closing your eyes as you traced his movement, creating a map of where he has been, and where he has yet to go. He moved lower and lower until you both knew what was coming next. He teased your entrance with the pad of his thumb, licking, kissing, and flitting his tongue and lips against your swollen clit. The fullness of his thumb felt so good, but it didn’t stop you from wanting so much more, until he surprised you with one finger, then two curling upward inside of you. 

“Mm, so fucking hot and tight on my fingers, Y/n,” he praised you, gasping for another breath. You could hear his lips on your pussy, the sound your wetness made upon his face, tongue and lips as they fucked into you. 

“Fuck, Josh!” you moaned, reaching your hand down to grasp a fistful of his curls in your hand. You could feel his soft stubble beginning to abrase your skin, but it only added to the sensation of the moment. You pulled him against you as if his hair were reins. With the leverage you had, you fucked up into his face with your hips, bouncing as best you could from the bed. Before you knew it, you felt your core swelling with fullness, and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer like this. He scrambled off of the mattress, his hands darting to his belt and pants, getting them off and tossing them to the floor while you waited desperately for his return. When he finally stood naked before you, he needed no preparation; his cock was fully erect and stiff, ready to give you the fuck of your life-the fuck you deserved. He would make love to you later, but now? Now he needed you to know that he found you undeniably sexy and that there was nothing on this planet that could or would stop him from ever wanting or needing you. 

He took his cock firmly in his hand, stroking it a few times before crawling onto the bed and reaching for you to spread your legs and reorient your body. You watched the intensity in his expression-how drawn and downturned his eyebrows had grown as he lined himself up against your hot and slick entrance. You knew he wouldn’t last long once he was inside. He pushed himself into you slowly, and you immediately felt how big he was, and how he filled you completely. You couldn’t help but squeeze your walls around his cock.

“Fuck,” you moaned, watching him wrap his arms around your legs stroking into you slowly, bearing his weight down to fuck into you as deep as he could before backing away and repeating the process. He started slow, his eyes falling shut. He bit his lip as he focused. 

“You are so. Fucking. Tight.” he muttered sloppily as he took in a relieving breath, having held it unintentionally. You responded to his observation by purposefully gripping his cock again. “Fuck!” he moaned, turning his head to kiss the softness of your leg. “Your pussy is incredible.” 

You enjoyed the way the word sounded coming from his lips. As if he owned it. “Say that again,” you ordered breathlessly.

He found your eyes, looking into them as he spoke. “I love your fucking pussy. I love it,” he repeated, withdrawing an arm from your leg to meet your clit with his thumb, rubbing in a slew of patterns to leave you writhing up in down in unexplainable pleasure. 

“Oh fuck. Fuck! Just like that,” you encouraged. “Keep going. Don’t stop. I need more,” you plead with him. 

“I don’t plan to stop, honey. Not until we’re both good and satisfied,” he said in a low growl. His face had turned several shades of pink from exertion, his eyes dropped half open and his mouth had fallen slack as he worked to vary the depth and intensity of each stroke. You wanted all of him and everything he had to offer. 

“Come here,” you said softly. He obliged, lowering himself so that he was flush ontop of you and you lay face to face as he fucked so deftly into you. His lips tasted of salt, mixed with the clean scent of his skin. His hands cradled your face gently, his thumbs caressing your cheeks as his gaze bored through you. You felt his fingertips mussing at the hair at your neck, but you knew he was doing it unconsciously. You could see the emerging orgasm coming; his expression gave it away. Suddenly, he retracted a hand from your face and placed it back between your legs to finger your clit again. His hands moved just right. Just right. He never stayed in one place for too long, and the pressure he placed on your clit and folds as he fucked into you sped your closer and closer to cumming. You were only mere seconds behind him. 

“Cum on my cock, baby,” he huffed raggedly, stroking into you faster, but not too fast–not too hard. He was absolutely perfect in the way he held you, fucking you with his cock and fingers, determined to leave you feeling inarguably satisfied. Your body, like his, was covered in a thick layer of sweat, allowing your bodies to slide against one another in just the right way. 

“Im so close. I’m gonna cum,” you finally groaned. You  reached to grab a fistful of sheets, but his hands shot upward to pull them to his chest instead as he moved into a new position, bearing his weight against his palms as he pounded deeper and deeper into your core. And then there was a fullness raging through your core that you couldn’t control any longer. “Josh-Josh!” You groaned louder, pushing against his chest as if to get him away from you, but he only locked himself more securely to you, looking into your eyes as he drove you off of the cliff. You vision went white as you finally came, as if stars were bursting and fizzing within your veins. Every bodily function seemed to pause in an instant as you arched and writhed helplessly against him, your thighs having a mind as their own as they bucked against his. He finally sat completely upright and pulled his arms around your legs as he threw your body weight against his thrust, sending his cock the deepest it had been. 

“Fuck!” He spat, his face dripping with sweat, his prim curls having fallen in a loose, damp halo as he pounded into you. He pulled out at the very last moment, fisting his cock desperately as he scrambled to your mouth where you took all of him, instinctively rolling your lips around his thick, hot shaft. He held your head in place as he unloaded, thrusting into your mouth. You took it in stride, doing whatever he needed. The noises that came out of his mouth could have made you cum again. He sounded inexplicably vulnerable and blissful as he fell apart above you. You felt his body rock and hitch as he came, and you squeezed his thigh, pulling him in closer. He wasted no time basking in his own satisfaction, though. He lowered himself to kiss you deeply, now tasting himself on your lips as he captured and sealed the last passionate vestiges of the moment. He plastered his body to yours, rolling you around on the bed so that his fingers were knotted deep within your hair, his lips pressed to yours over and over. You slept that night cuddled up to him completely naked. You were tired of hiding, and this man did everything in his power to coax you out of the safe, but unrewarding cocoon you had claimed for so many years. He made you feel beautiful–for all of your imperfections, for the extra pounds, for the funny laugh you couldn’t get rid of, for the poor taste in reality tv shows you had, he had made you feel radiant. You’d cling to that for as long as you could because you knew one thing for certain:

Joshua Michael Kiszka was a real fucking man.

Taglist: @theweightofstardust@thecoldwind@stardustdanny@stxverandle @starchords @strangersingold @dannythedog @mywaysooon @gretavanhoney @moonlightanthem @sparrowofthedawn@gustingirl@cowboysamkiszka@fictional-duchess@gretagolden@screechesincoherently@capturethechaos@ageoftambourine@basically-hayley@gretavanfleas@tlexx@amouratomique@strangeh0rizons@wriwrites@fosterkidwiththebrokenjaw@gvfvanfleet@jakekiszkasgiggle@katie-gvf @mgk777 @streamsofstardust @shellygvf @celestialfauna @gretavankleep37 @theweightofjake@thatcatbsong @tripthelightfandomtastic @teddiie@mckenna4 @myownparadise96 @b3l1nda @doodle417 @ashabeannn @emsgvf @prophetofthedune @groggyvanfleet @callmebymym @kdarling1@jakesguitarstring@of-infinite-wonders@mywaygvf@gretasmokerising@gretavanlace@the-chaotic-cow@greta-flanveet @janegvf @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @hayley1623 @theweightofdreams-gvf @zoelle16 @lvnterninthenight @slutforthejuck @megsobryan @age-of-nyahh @gretavancreep @eeeloraaa @doodle417 @gretavansteph @sammysvanfeet @lovejessejay @sammiejane22 @bumblebeeswrite@ryegvf @unfortunatelykristin @samkiszkabreakmyback @loofypoofy @songbirds-sweet @sammyslappers @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @ohhey1293 @jakesgrapejuice@kureenuh @kenzy-daddy @jazzyllemmon @groggyvanfleet @natdance927 @lallisonl @jakeyboiiiiiii @fleet-prodigy @brokenbellsgvf @gretasmokerising@cyliegvf@earthlysorrows@teddiie

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

Night at the Manor

(citrus under the cut)

The lights were low, and the room was cool.  Snowflakes gusted by the windows, sometimes flurries, other times thick waves of white.  This was a night for a blizzard, and every soul in the city had done their best to hunker down.  Normally Riven would have spent the evening reading or studying--perhaps going to bed early to sleep out the storm.  But tonight (praise the Twelve) there was a happy change to the status quo.

“Mmmm.”  With a low moan, Riven gyrated her hips.  She was still clad in the lingerie set she’d bought as a present for herself, white lace with blue accents.  Beneath her Estinien growled. His hair was strewn across the pillows, his muscles tense as he clutched at her hips.  He was nude save for his smalls, and Riven rubbed herself against the enticing bulge just beneath the fabric.  Heat coiled in her belly, but there was no rush to continue on just yet--the friction of her panties and Estinien’s length felt too good to stop.

“It took you long enough to get in here.”  She breathed, running a hand over Estinien’s chest. 

“Blame your brothers.”  Estinien growled.  “Including Artoirel.  My quarters are the furthest guest suite, and I’m certain Helgrim has a guard watching your section of the roof on purpose.  Otherwise I’d already have been in here every night.”  Riven gasped as he thrust his hips up on that last statement. 

“Are you telling me you don’t feel confident enough in your skills to sneak past the Fortemps Knight-Dragoon captain?”  She teased.

“I’ve been without you long enough.  I’d rather take the safer route of the house passageways than deal with whatever hellspawned-trap system they have set up outside.”  Estinien let his eyes roam over Riven’s body.  She was beautiful in the white fabric, lace and beading combining in delicate patterns atop her skin. Her skin was flushed pink, and her eyes closed as she tipped her head back, exposing her throat. Bliss radiated off her, and Estinien pushed himself up, teasingly swiping his tongue over the pulse in Riven's neck.

"You have too many clothes on." He rumbled, lifting his hands to the front of the bra. One twist and it would be gone.

"You should be naked." Faint alarms went off in Riven's head and her hands immediately flew up to grip Estinien's wrists.

"Don't you dare!" She hissed. "Do not rip this one!" Estinien, damn him, smirked. His blood was rising further, it was rare he could provoke Riven's physical strength. He could free his wrists but it would be a struggle. The fact that Riven was on par with him for both fighting ability and strength was one of the things he adored about her.

"I'll buy you a new one." He said.

"You already owe me several bras and panties!”  With a grunt, Riven pushed Estinien back down onto the mattress, and then loomed over him.

“Lie still!  I’m in charge.” 

“Are you now?”  Estinien demanded, unable to hide the smile spreading over his face.  Riven smirked, then placed her hands on his chest to push herself back up.

“I am.  And if you’re patient...”  With a hum, she placed her hands on the sash of the cover, stifling a giggle as Estinien’s eyes followed.  Slowly she undid the knot, shrugging her shoulders so the fabric could slide off and around her.  Then she reached behind her for the bra’s fastenings, pausing to give another wriggle atop Estinien’s groin.

“...Woman.”

“Yesss?”  Riven asked innocently.  Bra undone, she tossed it to the side.  Then she moaned as Estinien’s hands were suddenly on her breasts, gently massaging them.

“See?  Good things come to those who wait.”  She breathed, pushing herself more into Estinien’s hands.

“You’re still wearing too much clothing for my liking.”  And before Riven could reply, Estinien moved--sitting up and rolling so that Riven was now the one on the bottom, and he on top.  As she made to protest, his lips landed on hers.

“He--mmmmm.”  Estinien could kiss, Riven thought dreamily.  And when he did, he gave her everything he had and demanded the same from her.  He kissed her like he was starving, he kissed her like he was drowning, he kissed her as if he would never see her again.  And Riven responded eagerly, letting herself drown in the tastes and smells that belonged to Estinien.  The smell of the alpine air mixed with spice and fire, the stew they’d had for dinner pressing against her tongue.  His weight bore down on her, pressing her into the mattress, and Riven couldn’t help but shudder in relief, a quiet moan escaping her.  Estinien pulled back at the noise, looking down at her.

“Are you alright?”  He asked, a hand coming up to gently stroke her hair.  Riven smiled faintly.

“I’m fine.”

“Am I crushing you?”  Shite, had he let himself get carried away?  Estinien wanted to curse.  Compared to his size, Riven was small-and they’d already learned that he had to be extra careful sometimes when being intimate.

“If you fucking get up I will murder you.”  To prove her point, Riven lifted her legs to wrap them around Estinien’s waist, running her hands over his back. 

“I told you before, I like it when you’re on top of me.”

“Yes, well.”  Estinien grumbled, shifting his weight about slightly.  “As you’re the...”  Now he had to trail off at the telltale gleam of impending wrath in Riven’s eyes.  If he called her small he was looking at another night with just his hand for company.

“I’m the what?”  Riven repeated.

“You are the one entirely too dressed.”  And with that, Estinien rocked up and back, hooking his fingers into Riven’s panties.

“No no, that was a change of--do not rip those I swear to the gods-!”  With a grunt, Estinien captured Riven’s legs and lifted them up, pulling the offending garment up and off.

“See? I didn’t rip them.”  He said, dangling the panties above Riven’s head, yanking them away when she made a grab for them.  “But now you don’t get them back for the rest of the night.”  Riven huffed.

“And how is it fair that I have to be completely naked and you aren’t?”  She complained.  Estinien smirked, pushing himself off the bed to strip his own underthings off.

“There.  Now we’re both naked.”  He declared, getting back into the bed.  “The way the gods and nature intended.”  A impish idea crossed his mind, and Estinien reached out to tickle one of the bottoms of Riven’s feet.  The hyur gasped-trying to pull her feet away.

“Nononono not that!”  She squeaked, laughter escaping her.

“Come here.”  Estinien growled playfully, moving fast enough to grab one of Riven’s ankles. 

“You’ve been teasing me ever since I got here.  Time to give you exactly what you’re after.”  Riven let herself go limp, wriggling as Estinien angled himself above her.  “Promises, promises.”  She whispered, running her nails over Estinien’s shoulders and back.  The dragoon shuddered at the sensation, a hiss escaping him.  Then he bent his head down for another kiss, and Riven was only too happy to let coherent thought leave her. 

[dawn-petrichor-world]

Once upon a time The master and the servant

Summary: Despite your countless relationship this one is your first.

Warning: Threesome. I don't need to be clear it's obvious. There's nothing hardcore.

+1.9k words not proofread

A/N: All links on my posts glitched. I fixed them but lose two works. This one and a French poem. So no choice but to post again. Enjoy.

Not everyone can’t do men’s tasks because people consider women weak and useful only for giving heirs to their husbands. That doesn’t stop you since you can walk to you dress yourself as a boy in public, to do sword training and others stuff. But you have duties as Oberyn Martell’s servant to his family for years but mostly his.

You are pretty close together, friends from the first day you met him that he knows many things about you even the ones you don’t, such as you are not interested in men and are still a virgin for penis.

Mutually you know he deeply loves sex and he’s highly attracted to you but as a gentleman, he always has respectful behaviour when you are around even though you caught him many times gawking at your body when you were shirtless or naked or masturbating himself and moaning your name.

This evening after spending time with your best friend walking in the streets and drinking plenty of beverages here and there, both of you end up drunk in unprecedented ways and overjoyed running away to filching some food, you kiss him, curious about what tastes men’s lips. Not quite different from a girl. “I dreamt of you, two nights ago,” you laugh and slip your tongue into his mouth, undoubtedly, he exchanges that kiss with you and even if he wants more he tries to not freak you out and replies to you, "I keep picturing your fingers on my skin." With all the alcohol in his veins his thoughts are blurry but he says while he’s kissing you that he wants to do something in privacy with you. He steps back, gazes at you panting and readjusting your clothes, grabs your hand and steers you to his room. He press gently his lips on your forehead and says “Tonight is all about you,” he left you there and come back minutes later with someone else.

At the same time, anxiety fills every part of your body, you could create a rift by walking back and forth in his bedroom but suddenly the door opens, making your heart beat faster than seconds ago, to reveal the seductive chocolate-haired man joined by a woman. “To make you comfortable.” He whispers and kisses the back of your hands and winks at you.

She is ravishing, with a terra cotta skin colour, long and curly black hair tied on a side of her shoulder. Her hazelnut eyes stare at you which could swallow you up but the garment she’s wearing draws more of your attention. The red sheer dress exposes under your eyes she’s wholly naked in it. Her outstanding face looks familiar but far to be sober right now and the dim light in the room doesn’t help. She walks right to you, raises her hands to cup your face and crashes her lips against yours. Her breasts are pressing yours and her tongue dancing with yours, driving you quickly insane, so you run your fingers in her hair for a favour kiss.

It’s like a ballet dance between the two of you until you crash on the bed to continue to kiss eachother while Oberyn after admiring you, he finally takes his shirt off and joins you by kissing your neck as if he knew your weak spot.

He puts himself in the middle of you two, her standing behind him and you straddling him to access easier to you by slipping up his hands under your shirt from your waist to your breast and creating shivers through your spine, then he kisses your belly and lightly goes up. You feel once in a while his tongue licking your skin and he takes off all the fabrics on you.

Everything starts to buzz and makes you throw your head back, the woman standing up on the bed continues to kiss you while your friend plays with your breast and rubs your upper body.

The woman half naked helps Oberyn with his clothes while they’re kissing each other and he finally lays himself on the bed.

Now completely naked, they’re kissing your body making you jolt and moan louder many times.

On his back, Oberyn leads you to sit on him while the gorgeous goddess crawls behind you to kiss you again. One of her hands on your breast squeezes your nipple while the other plays with your clit or from time to time inside of you.

Your crotch is near to his face, you see it but are still drunk by her kiss and the alcohol it’s like nothing makes you uncomfortable even when she puts her hands on your inner thighs and recommends you to spread your legs wider.

At the instant you’re obeyed, something warm and wet licks you, a weird and nice feeling there makes your heart beat faster as well as your breath then you start to moan but it sticks in your throat.

“Love! Don’t kiss her while she moans, I need to hear her beautiful voice.” requests Oberyn. Then while he gazed at you, his upper face disappears again and his tongue rolls inside you.

You handle the sheet tightly, try to move away but the grip of the arms is strong and your man-whore friend buries his face deeper into you until your moans sound like screams because you cum in his mouth.

Finally release, you slowly fall and try to catch your breath for a second and then roll on your side to face the woman to kiss and lick her body, up to her rosewood sultry lips but you’ve been stopped. She sits up and put you on her to slide her finger in you.

Oberyn appears in front of you, grabs your jaw and licks your lips but instead of a kiss your suck his thumb, look into his eyes and moan at the same time.

“If you keep looking at me this way I won’t resist you any longer.” He explains but you slide your hand down and up, stop at his ass, squeeze it and pull him closer to you.

He growls and removes his thumbs and kisses you. It’s like you make him crazy, he bites your lips and his tongue rolls with yours.

You are about to cum again and moan louder, your head on his chest but he lifts your chin “I love the way you look, don’t hide it from me.” He says.

Her fingers back and forth inside of you and her mouth sucking your nipple. It’s too much, it’s coming. You try to keep your eyes open but you close them, scream and toss your head back.

Still a gentleman he catches you, lays you on the bed so gently. He even removes some sticky wet hair on your face but the most beautiful thing he did it’s giving you a glass of water before making scream the other woman.

They are beautiful together, their skins against each other, the water pearls shedding on the woman's back, their months when they kiss. Everything turns you on quickly.

When comes her turn to rest, Oberyn crawls at you, but something between his legs draws your attention and makes you jump. “Oberyn Martell, how is that possible you are still turned on and hard down there?” You ask afraid. He only smirks at you.

He acts differently, sweeter and more patient even if minutes ago he was rough and passionate with her.

His big and warm hand gently on your side face with his pinky finger rubbing your neck gives you a shiver along your spine, his mustache tickling the top of your lips when he kisses you softly and his tongue makes its way in your mouth and meets yours. All of that makes you addicted when he stops.

- “I want you to feel more comfortable, not afraid. You already trust me, don’t you?”

You nod and attend to taste his lips but he stays back and adds, “If it hurts or you want to stop, let me know.” He knows you are not listening to him, looking at his lips and trying to reach them. “Cupcake, listen to me.”

You roll your eyes, push him on his back and make your way to his waist by kissing his thigh and licking his sacks, the length and the tip, open widely your mouth to bury it in you and make you gag.

Unexpected in amazing ways, Oberyn wants to regret the sensation but you put his hands on your breasts and make them massage you while your crotch rubs his and then lift your ass and slide his penis inside of you.

He squeezes your nipples and moans but once deep and you start to wiggle your hips, he tries to be on top.

You push him back and tut to make clear you are in charge. He raises an eyebrow and grins happily for only a second, replaced by a pleasuring expression because you’re rolling your hips.

The lady sits on his face bend over you to kiss you. Now you are less shy and the impacts of the alcohol are less present so you touch her soft skin. You lick your fingers, roll them against her clit delicately then speed up the movement to finally slip them into her vagina. The back and forth of your fingers, the fact your twist and curl them in her, plus your mouth sucking and your teeth teasing nipple make her dig her nails in Oberyn's skin. Both of them are moaning louder and louder, you feel them shuddering beneath you and finally you cum together.

She falls on the side, trying to recover. You fall on your best friend’s chest still in you who runs your back and runs his fingers in your hair, you lift your eyes to admire him and bite his chin while you scratch lightly his side and dig your nails into his skin.

- “At least let me recover before…” he cuts himself off, you can’t help it particularly when you feel him getting hard in you.

He sighs and tries again to be on the top but in vain. You move your ass up and down, scratch his body harder than before and bite his body. You make him crazy and want to be rough, so a trial of power between the two of you starts. He puts his hands around your neck to choke you that you grab, one still on you and the other you decide to suck his fingers while he increases the thrust and you wiggle on him.

This second time is better even if the sex with two people and of course another woman is fabulous but your relationships with Oberyn Martell make things different.

The sun appears in the bedroom warming your naked skin, the birds singing wakes you up. You slept between them your head on his chest, you snake out his arms and the bed but fall loudly. Thankfully nothing wakes them up. You pick up a sheet on the ground and wrap your body into it and tiptoe out of the room.

Nobody seems to be awake but it won’t last any longer.

- “Will you avoid us, will you avoid me after what happened?” says a voice behind you making you jump. Oberyn is standing in front of you, naked like a worm and concerned for you.

- “I’m just a servant, my Prince.”

“But we are friends, you are my best friend.”

Thanks for reading it. Hope you like it. My Masterlists.

[storiesoflilies]

cherry cola, cigarette kisses

pairing: guitarist!toji fushiguro x singer!reader

warnings: slight age gap (reader is 25, toji is 30), mentions of drugs and alcohol, smoking, swearing.

a/n: a little drabble for the ‘jujutsu journal’ collab by @ayyy-pee. dividers by @/benkeibear.

people came to see the band live really just to catch a glimpse of the two of them in person.

of her, with her cream linen summer dresses, lips painted red like the cans of cherry cola she drank on stage between sets, dainty gold rings adorning her fingers, silk red ribbons tied in pretty big bows on her wrists, and matching platform heels. her with a voice so cool and suave, like ice, that it made all the boys go crazy for her.

and of him, toji fushiguro. with his cigarette smoke voice, all husk and fire, and veiny hands that held his guitar with practiced finesse. with his guitar solos that made you want to throw your head back in ecstasy, and his rolled-up sleeves to expose his corded forearms, driving the girls wild with desire.

people came to see them play and see the way they moved together.

when she sang, toji would close his eyes and tilt his head back, lost in the ecstasy that was the privilege of listening to her art. plucking the strings of his electric guitar along to play a tune to support her voice, like a flowing stream carrying along a floating feather. he let the vibrations of the bass through the speakers and reverberate into his bones, feeling the thrum of the crowd with their phone lights flashing and swaying, and inhaling the scent of sweat and dreams in the air.

god, his girlfriend was so fucking cool, and they all didn’t even know the half of it.

they didn’t know how pretty she looked when she danced naked in the dark in front of their penthouse views of the city lights below. with red wine swirling in her glass amidst a smokey haze, he’d exhale a big fume of his joint, and think to himself that he was so goddamn lucky to have picked up that crumpled, wet ‘guitarist wanted’ flyer all those years ago.

of course, the world didn’t know just how lucky toji was just yet.

she’d sing such pretty words, especially about the world thinking you were too young to understand the things you felt. words about everyone telling you that you couldn’t possibly grasp the way things were supposed to work, when in fact, you actually did – perhaps better than everyone else did. toji had been one of those things for her before. their bandmates had been adamantly against the older man pursuing her when they first met four years ago. she was their sweet little cherry, and they didn’t want the ash of him and his cigarettes falling on and ruining her delicate skin.

“she’s too young,” they’d all said. “too dumb to know what you are, fushiguro.”

toji had let their words get to him, the indignant and prideful fire within razing everything to the ground, and disappeared into his studio apartment with only his bong for company. he’d been there for a long time, refusing to answer any of her or the band’s calls, until she showed up knocking at his door in the middle of the night. her makeup was smeared and her vanilla scented perfume still lingered, while he was lost halfway in a dream of minefields, complex labyrinths, and booby traps.

“don’t leave me too,” she’d begged, a tumbling mess of tears, and practically collapsed as she gripped his arms for all she was worth. “not you, please.”

he melted into her right there and then.

toji shushed her softly, holding her close as they lay there in a tangled heap on the floor. he watched as his tears landed on her hair, feeling his high crashing down. “but i’m no good for you, babygirl.”

“nobody is good for each other, toji. love is fucking awful and tears your heart apart, but i still want to do it with you.”

and that was that.

but nobody else knew about them.

they’d been a secret for two years now, and toji had decided that this was it – she was it. his best girl, no other woman would ever compare to her. but she was so nervous, always so good, about what their bandmates and the fans would think. she didn’t want to break anybody’s heart, but toji didn’t care about that anymore.

they belonged to each other, and fuck, the whole world needed to know it. and if they didn’t like it? well, they could go and choke on it.

she swayed back and forth, staring at toji with heart eyes, and and teasingly stuck her tongue out to the side. that was his cue, and the fans knew it too, for him to take control of the music with his fingers and let himself and his guitar run wild. of course, it was to put on a good show, but he knew it was really because she loved his guitar solos more than anyone else did.

“i want you to play guitar for me all the time,” she said one time, teeth stained gray from the wine, twirling in lazy circles as toji strummed his acoustic guitar. “especially when i die, so i can hear the sound of heaven before i go.”

toji abruptly stopped playing and frowned, “don’t even talk about something like that. i’m supposed to go before you anyways, y’know i’m the old one.

“shut up, i can’t live without you.”

he stared at her as he played, never taking his eyes off how she danced and swayed. he watched as she went over to their drummer and pressed a kiss to their cheek. a hot flare of jealousy coursed through his blood, and toji picked up the pace, forcing their drummer to focus and step it up a notch to keep up with him. sweat dripped from his forehead, his dark hair sticking to it in stringy strands, and he licked his lips, tasting salt.

“yeah,” toji thought. “it’s do or die now.”

she took a swig of cherry cola, lipstick stains on the rim, as toji coaxed his solo into an earth-shattering crescendo, sending the crowd into a frenzy of whoops and cheers. still, he never took his eyes off her, following her every movement as he stopped the music suddenly in a dramatic conclusion.

the crowd clapped for the end of the song, and toji lit a cigarette to settle his buzzing nerves, his chest heaving with exertion. she floated over to him, smiling softly, red lipstick slightly faded from the cola, licking her lips as she tilted her head at him. he knew she could read him like a book; she knew something was wrong.

“what is it?” she whispered, being careful not to face the crowd directly.

“let’s do it, babygirl,” toji rasped, taking another long drag from his cigarette.

her eyebrows shot up, and she gaped. “now, toji? right now?”

“yeah, c’mon. let’s drive ‘em all crazy,” he chuckled, blowing his smoke away from her face.

“you mean it, toji?” she frowned, her pretty little heart so goddamn nervous about everyone else’s feelings but her own.

toji flicked his cigarette, adjusted his guitar to his side, and smiled. “let’s not think anymore, let’s just do.”

with that, he pulled her in by the waist and planted a kiss right onto her plush lips. bitter cigarette and sweet cherry flavors mixed intoxicatingly as their mouths danced together, eliciting shocked gasps followed by an almost deathly silence.

and then, it exploded.

the camera flashes went astronomically wild, accompanied cheering that bordered on plain screaming and raving, as a thousand hearts broke and millions swooned. she relaxed into him, putting her hands onto his broad, sweaty chest, flushed from the heat of the moment and the thrill of performing. they pulled apart, his lips swollen and hers tingly, and it was just the two of them amidst the eyes of thousands. she giggled, a nervous bark at the revelation of how their lives were going to change now, and toji beamed.

“you’re trouble, toji fushiguro,” she breathed out, chin on his chest as she gazed up at him in adoration.

toji chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead and mumbled, “i’m your trouble.”

©storiesoflilies 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.

[gottagofastpietro]

j-stcrm

Johnny barely got the words out before Pietro was gone. But then he was back as quick as he’d disappeared, seeming like he couldn’t find the words himself. Johnny just looked at him, his heart pounding so fast that it sounded like a rushing in his ears. He pushed himself off the booth wall, wincing when he heard it creak beneath him, and silently walked over to him. Even in this situation, Johnny was enough of himself to pull a face at what Pietro said. “Can you even run over an ocean? And shut up. You’re not turning yourself in to Hydra.” Johnny looked at him for a moment longer, falling silent. His head was spinning and nothing was making sense to him at all. Everything in him was telling him to brush this off. Say it was the heat of the moment and they got caught up in feelings. But even though his mind was saying that, his body was telling him to do something different apparently. If the way he was still walking towards Pietro was any indication of that. “I don’t -- “ Johnny stopped again, tilting his head to look up at him because that’s how significant their height difference was. And if that alone wasn’t enough of a reminder he had no idea what the hell he was doing. But then he decided to just stop thinking and, with a tilt of his head, that flirtatious, womanizing asshole persona that Pietro accused him of using was back in place. He was going to hate himself tomorrow, he knew it. Not breaking eye contact, he said, “I think we’ve been at this thing long enough.”

This was not his bed. It wasn't the tower at all. In and of itself, that wasn't alarming -- he'd been staying with Johnny since the injury. Sleeping on his shitty couch. That was the alarming part. This was not the shitty couch.

He was in Johnny's bed.

And he remembered exactly how he got here. And what happened when they landed in the sheets. In the moment, he'd felt that drunken haze, that heady feeling that pushed him forward without thought, just instinct. But it was all crystal clear in his head. Johnny flashed that stupid smile, the one he flashed for all the girls, the one Pietro mocked him relentlessly for -- he flashed it one time and Pietro crumbled. Now here he was, laying naked in his best friend's bed. Alone.

It took him a moment to realize it. To realize that his arm was actually reaching for something, not just moving aimlessly. But all his fingers found was a cold side of the bed. Pietro frowned, sitting up. Johnny's absence left him feeling awkward, over-exposed. He leaned over and snatched his clothes off the floor, tall enough to not have to leave the bed until he had pants on at least. His shirt was nowhere to be found. Just like Johnny. Obviously, he wasn't going to stick around. That made a sick kind of sense in Pietro's head, the same way it had when Johnny flashed him that stupid smile. He fell for it, sure, but he knew what he was falling for. He was just a fling, like the string of girls before him. At the time, he thought maybe that would be enough. That it would scratch this itch inside him, chase away this feeling he didn't understand, didn't want to understand.

But he still felt it. Felt a pang and twist in his chest staring at the empty side of the bed. Pietro pushed it down as much as he could, covered it with irritation because that old standby was so helpful. Anger was good. He held onto that thought as he threw the door open, stomping out towards the kitchen. He'd find his stupid shirt, then get back to the Tower, and he'd --

He stopped dead in his tracks. There was his shirt. Clinging to Johnny's body. Pietro had been tortured before, but this felt cruel. He looked so gorgeous that Pietro wanted to march over there, rip it off him, and pick up exactly where they'd left off last night. "You're... here," he said, realizing that he hadn't said anything. Just stormed out and stared. "You're here, and you're wearing my shirt."

[espritmuse]

okayyyy but dom bully mikasa who starts being mean to you when you get too close to eren and tells you you’re acting like such a slut around him until one day she eventually fucks you stupid calling you the same names and making you tell her your hers

—𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄—

⌕ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Mikasa Ackerman x Reader

⌕ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: semi public sex (school bathrooms), fingering, cunnilingus, meankasa and possessive Mikasa, a bit of degradation. [1.3 words.]

⌕ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: The beginning is just for a bit of context, you can just go right to the smut if ur too horny, it’s the best moment I guess…. (Yeah it is)

— 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑 —

Mikasa knew very well where this little game was going. Since the very beginning. But can you blame her for playing with you like she did? it was so fun, seeing you getting all flustered, seeing your eyes avoiding hers when you both met in the school corridors.

A boy. A stupid and meaningless boy. It was the problem, or rather, her excuse for treating you like she always does. Accidents, like she calls them in front of the headteacher when she is, once again, sent to his office.

But the line was definitely crossed last Saturday night, when you went to her boyfriend’s birthday party. Eren Yeager. It took you some time, perhaps too much time to finally realise and understand that jealousy was the cause of all of your mistreatment.

Daggers piercing your skin. That’s what her dark black eyes would’ve thrown if they could when her boyfriend shared his cup of alcohol with you. You weren’t that close to him, you weren’t even really his friend, but that was already too much, apparently. Since then, insults and humiliations got worse, so much worse.

“Slut.” This is what you could read on the body of your car, written in red paint. Eyes wide and mouth agape, you tried to use the sleeve of your shirt to wash the paint out, without any success. You looked stupid, like this, on the parking lot; and she didn’t miss a second of it.

3PM in the school restroom. That was the time and the place you were supposed to meet her at. You accepted, for some unknown reason, after reading it on the piece of paper she had left on your car. Curiosity, as it may be.

And there she was. Awaiting for you, her back pressed on the white wall, an unamused expression on her face. Unamused, until she heard your footsteps walking down to her.

Black nail polish. It was what her nails were painted with when she slowly slid them down your pants, looking straight at you, eyes lost in your own gaze, searching for the slightest glimpse of disapprobation.

Nowhere to be found.

“Don’t make any loud noises. You’ll regret it” She advised spitefully, in an inaudible whisper, her lips almost caressing yours. “Understood?” She then questioned rhetorically.

“Y…yes” you answered uncertainly, still a bit confused of what was just occurring in front of you.

“Good girl. Open your legs.” She announced in a rough voice. An order, that’s what it really sounded like.

You did so, spreading both of your lower members without any difficulties on the bathroom cabinet, sitting in-between the two sinks. Your movement seemed to please her because her lips curved into a small angelic and exited smile. The black haired woman placed both of her hand on each individual knees before pulling you closer to her.

She put one knee on the floor, then the second, before pulling down your underwear swiftly with her fingers. It was delicate, surprisingly. Your eyes weren’t missing a single piece of this moment, amazed and still a bit shocked.

“You’re a dirty girl you know. Couldn’t have guessed that.” She remarked, holding your pink lace lingerie in her pale hand, her curious and mocking gaze all over your underwear. “I wonder if the top is the same.” She started after dropping your pantie on the bare floor, “or let me guess, you’re not even wearing anything under your shirt? Hm?”

“I…”

“Shh…bad girls don’t talk.” She said, standing back up quickly and placing her hand on your face, her thumb caressing your cheek. You couldn’t even tell what was going on in her mind, her movements towards you didn’t give any further details. Was she playing with you? Maybe one of her friends was hiding and recording all of that? You didn’t know. You should’ve stopped.

But you didn’t want to.

Mikasa took both sides of your skirt and lifted it a bit, exposing your pubis to her perverted gaze and, suddenly, her mouth was painted with a very big and bright smile, as if this scenery was all the needed, everything she always wanted.

You were now all naked, with the exception of your skirt, that was still covering your ass and not allowing the cold surface to come in contact with your bare skin.

And yeah, she was right, you weren’t wearing anything under your shirt.

Her tongue wandering playfully around your warm core, you mentally begged her to pleasure you. You needed it, so, so much. It's funny when you think about it; you just hated her more than anyone on this earth some minutes ago and now, she’s between your legs at your most vulnerable state.

“Mikasa…. Can you…” you tried to say.

“Quiet.” She replied spitefully, the sound of her voice slightly muffled since her head was buried in your lower body. The raven-haired woman placed both of your legs on her shoulders, your knees bending at the curve of her bones.

It’s her tongue that you felt first, sliding slowly between your fold, trying to find its way to your clit. And it did find, pretty quickly, like it always belonged here. She moved it very slowly, at first, making sure to not hurt you or making you uncomfortable.

You grabbed her black hair, trying to keep your noises for yourself, as she ordered you to some minutes prior. You could feel every little thing, her steady and serene breath on your vulva, her nose brushing slightly against your mons pubis and her right hand stroking gently your right knee.

“See? When you close this fucking mouth…” she said between loud respiration. It seemed like she was talking to herself, actually. But you still listened carefully. “You…you’re fucking delicious…I knew it.” She continued, her words feeling even better on your clit because of the air she was releasing when she was pronouncing them.

Two fingers. Or maybe three, you couldn’t even tell. She started moving them very slowly inside of you, trying to follow the rhythm of her tongue at the same time. It was the same identical pace, you could tell. It felt fantastic.

You couldn’t even stop the noises from escaping your lips, it was impossible. Never in your life you have felt that great, that pleasured.

Her lips and tongue sucking on your clit, you almost didn’t notice when she replaced her mouth with her thumb. She got up from the dirty floor of the bathroom and got closer to you and, as a whisper, planted some soft kisses on your temples and your nose. You glimpsed a change in her behaviour, almost unnoticeable, but it was here.

“Mika….Mikasa…it…” you tried to say once again, but this time she didn’t interrupt you or, not directly; you simply couldn’t talk anymore.

“It feels good doesn’t it baby?” She whispered in your ear sensually. “Tell me how good I make you feel.” She continued.

“V…very very good…” you mumbled.

“Very good? Is that so?” She questioned gently, her knuckles moving back and forth inside your folds. “You’re about to cum, aren’t you sweetheart?” She asked as well after noticing your hands, who tried to grab her shirt uncontrollably.

You nodded quickly. But she stopped.

“You’re mine. Do you understand?” Mikasa said, looking straight in your eyes, a devilish smile on her angelic face.

“Mhh…. Please….why did you…” You protested, not even paying attention to the things she was saying.

“I won’t continue if you don’t say it back.”

“I… I’m y…yours…”

You finally felt her hands moving back in your body, allowing you to properly cum, your head buried in the crook of her neck as she was trying to keep her balance with her free hand, positioned on the mirror behind you.

“Turns out I was right all this time huh?” She started, once out of the bathroom, both of you looking all innocent, as if nothing had happened. “You’re such a slut.” She quietly proceeded in your ear.

You were right too, it was jealousy all of this time.

Thank you a lot for reading <333 reblogs and comments are pretty much welcomed !! Have a nice day!

<- Masterlist

[redhoodieone]

His Girl Part 2

Warnings: Language, SMUT, heartbreak, and fluffiness.

“Jay…” Y/N breathes against Jason’s lips. Her eyes shift from his emerald eyes to his adorable pout. “You don’t want this with me. You shouldn’t want this with me.”

Jason pulls back from her and his face falls. The look of heartbreak pains Y/N, but she can’t help but feel the way she feels, because why would someone so attractive and perfect like Jason want with a short, chubby, and plain looking girl like her?

Jason lifts Y/N’s chin so they can see eye to eye. “I’ve wanted you since the day I met you. Sweetheart, when you first looked at me, I was done for. You know, I never believed in God. You know damn well I’m not the religious type, despite the jokes from the league who say I could have been a priest in another life,” he says with a small smile. He holds his hand up as if he’s taking an oath. “But I swear to God when I first saw you, I thought you were an angel. You stood there, you were lovely and gentle, and at that moment I knew something good had to exist in this fucked up world because you were brought into my life, and you made me want to be a better man...for you.”

“Dick’s right. He’s right about me. You don’t want me, Jay. I’m nothing special. I’m not beautiful. I’m not skinny. I’m not smart, funny, or even interesting,” Y/N admits.

“How can you even say that to me? Did you forget our talk last summer?” Jason says carefully, his gaze never breaking hers.

“I didn’t forget, Jay. I just don’t think we should start anything up between us. It’ll just-”

“So, what am I not good for you?” he snaps, his tone is harsh as he accuses her.

“What? No! I didn’t say that. Why are you so mad at me, Jay?” Y/N asks quietly.

“I’m not mad. I’m hurt,” Jason admits, before he decides he can’t stand the distance between them anymore. With both hands, he roughly grabs Y/N’s hips and pulls her body closer to his. He moves one hand up her back until he’s holding the back of her head; forcing her to keep her eyes on him. “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to see you talk to other guys? Do you know how difficult it is for me to stand by and see these other assholes get to touch you, kiss you, and fuck you? Do you realize how close I’ve gotten to ‘accidentally’ shooting Dickie-bird in his balls just because you were flirting with him? I couldn’t stand it sweetheart, and I still can’t.”

Y/N’s eyes widen in surprise at Jason’s confession. The pull is too strong for both of them to ignore. Jason takes a chance and lowers his head to kiss Y/N. His lips are initially warm and rough, but they fit perfectly against her gentle and soft lips. The second Y/N kisses Jason back with as much fervor, he realizes his feelings couldn’t be one-sided.

The kiss wasn’t deep yet. They barely pull back enough to breathe before Jason takes the reins and rests his forehead against hers. He teases her by leaning in to kiss her but then pulling back when her lips chase after his. She inhales sharply when his scent fills her nostrils; his exotic, smoky woods, sandalwood, and spices make her weak in her knees that she has to hold both his forearms to keep herself steady. Luckily, Jason manages to hold her up, and he brings her close enough to grind his evident bulge against her core. “Please...please let me show you how much I want you. Let me show you how beautiful you are to me and how much I want all of you,” Jason whispers against Y/N’s lips.

Jason’s green eyes burn into Y/N’s eyes. She licks her lips. “Okay,” she breathes out.

Jason surges forward and slams his mouth against Y/N’s. He wastes no time licking her bottom lip, seeking entrance to taste her and have her in ways he’s always imagined. When she opens her mouth wider, he falls deeper when he realizes her taste is addictive, and he knows this can’t be the last time he’ll kiss her. Their tongues rub and stroke each other’s, and he bites her bottom lip.

He pulls back only to see if she wants more. The look of lust in her eyes is enough. He carefully pushes her backwards until the back of her knees tough the bed. She crawls up to her pillow so she can lie down, her hair fans out around her, creating an illusion of an angelic halo.

Jason looks down at Y/N with adoration. He knows for a fact he’s never looked at a woman like this. He knows she’s the first and will be the last woman he’ll look at like this.

He can tell she’s nervous to make the next move. He smiles softly and begins to undress himself. Kicking off his boots and socks, he shrugs off his jacket and his Kevlar armor. He notices she’s watching intently, biting her bottom lip.

Jason can’t help but smirk. Once he shoves down his pants, he’s left in just his boxer briefs, which nearly exposes how hard his cock is for her.

He crawls on the bed until he’s hovering above her. His hands move to her pajama pants, but he doesn’t pull them down just yet.

“Are you sure you want this?” Jason whispers to her. His voice is deeper and rougher.

Y/N nods her head. “Yes, I want you, Jay,” she whispers back.

Jason kisses her softly to help her relax. He tugs her pajama pants down to her knees. He pulls back from her lips and sits up when he realizes she’s not wearing any panties. He raises an eyebrow and smirks. “No panties?” he teases.

“I...I don’t like to sleep with underwear on,” she confessions shyly. He thinks it’s cute when she blushes.

“That’s perfectly okay, doll. Now that I know, maybe I can join you in bed sometime?”

Y/N giggles at that as she watches Jason move down until his face is in front of her pussy. She quickly sits up and tries to cover her modesty.

“Wait, you-you don’t have to do that. It’s okay. You don’t have to,” Y/N stammers.

Jason smiles softly at her. He quickly sits up to kiss her, to get her to relax. “I know I don’t have to, but I want to sweetheart,” he says, as he helps Y/N remove her top so she’s completely naked in front of him. His hands rub her arms, chest, and stomach, which seems to help her lie back down. “I want to eat you. I want to eat this delicious, wet pussy so much that you’ll be cumming all over my face.”

Y/N blushes more as Jason grins smugly and winks at her before he lowers himself back down to lick her folds. She gasps out in surprise and reaches down to grab his dark hair to tug.

“Oh God,” she whines out.

“Fuck baby girl, you taste so fucking good. You’re sweeter than apple pie,” Jason moans out.

He sucks her clit on the borderline of pain and pleasure, and when he releases it, he can see her pupils dilate with lust.  

Jason smiles against her pussy and uses his fingers to part her folds so he can circle her clit with his tongue. He knows he has experience going down on women, but he also realizes that every woman is different. Deciding to show her a few different ways to cum, he switches up his methods. As he continues to rotate between licking and sucking Y/N’s clit, he pushes a finger inside to warm her up. And with all the noise she’s making, he knows he’s on the right path.

“Oh fuck...Jay. Finger me harder,” Y/N pleads.

He keeps his eyes on her. When she tries to close her eyes, he slaps her thigh. “Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. I wanna see you cum,” he demands.

Y/N opens her eyes, and it makes everything better for him. Just feeling how tight and wet she is drives his cock to twitch hard in his underwear. He adds a second finger and strokes up against her walls. He can feel she’s close to cumming just by her clenching his fingers. He licks and sucks her clit faster and harder, as he drives a third finger inside her and rubs against her g-spot. He has her now. She’s going to cum for him and he’s excited as fuck.

“Oh, fuck! Oh, my God! Jay! I’m cumming!” Y/N cries out. She sits up and pulls his hair harder.

Jason keeps his eyes on her and hums for her to go ahead and cum. He refuses to take his eyes and mouth off her. He needs her to cum.

With his fingers fucking her pussy loud enough to create that wet, sopping sound, Jason wraps his mouth against Y/N’s pussy to catch her cum. He moans in delight at her taste, and he can feel his cock leaking more precum in his underwear. Once she calms down from her hard orgasm, he quickly stands up and pulls down his underwear.

Y/N is stunned to see Jason’s cock. She knew he was big, partly because of his pants and boxer briefs displaying his rather big bulge. But seeing it in person and up close is different. She knows he’s above average, but his cock is thicker than she imagined. She swallows hard when the red, swollen tip leaks precum.  

Once Jason’s completely naked, he climbs on top of her. Y/N reaches to stroke his cock, but he gently moves her hand away. “As much as I’d like you to touch my cock and maybe suck on it, I don’t want to cum that way. I want to cum in you,” Jason says softly.

When his cock brushes against her pussy, Y/N knew she needs inside her. “I want you to cum inside me. Please...please fuck me,” she pleads.

Hearing her beg does something to him. Jason kisses Y/N hard and moves his hand between them to push his cock inside her. She gasps breathlessly as he groans at how well she’s taking him. She’s tight, warm, and wet, and he knows he’s not going to last long. He looks down at her and his heart swells at the fact that she’s looking up at him as if he is her world. His hands move all over her body, tracing scars and stretch marks, as her own nails scratch down his arms and back.

Y/N takes Jason by surprise when she bites his jaw and giggles when he nips her neck. The intimacy between them is what makes them happier in the moment. But when the tip of his cock brushes against her g-spot, she clenches around his cock, causing his thrusts from going slow to fast and hard now.

“Jay...fuck me harder. Faster, please,” Y/N begs breathlessly.

Jason’s hips slam into hers, his pelvic bone rubs deliciously against her clit. She squeezes around him again, and he knows he won’t be able to last longer. “Okay, sweetheart, okay,” Jason chokes out. He angles his thrusts to be deeper and to hit her sweet spot every time.

She wraps her arms around him and brings his face down to kiss him. He moans against her mouth, and not being able to breathe properly is doing something to him. He quickens his thrusts and moves a hand in between them to rub her clit hard and fast to match his thrusts.

Y/N and Jason break apart to breathe and she throws her head back. He watches in awe at her falling apart because of him, her orgasm takes him by surprise. She cries out his name. She cums hard around his cock and soaks him in her sweet juices that forces his own orgasm out of him.

“Fuck...Y/N, fucking Christ,” Jason moans loudly. He grunts hard and moans when he slams deeper inside her, coating her insides with his seed. He squeezes her hips and thrusts a few more times until he’s sure she’s gotten all his cream.

When he pulls his cock out, he can feel himself get hard again from just seeing his cum seep out of her pussy.

Jason inhales hard and collapses next to her. His arms instantly wrap around her, and she willingly cuddles against him. Fear runs through him, though. “Please be mine...” he dares to whisper. He wonders if she even heard him. The fear of rejection scares him more than anything right now.

“Yes, I’ll be yours,” Y/N whispers back. She kisses his chest and lies her head back down on him. She falls asleep to his even breathing and his hand rubbing her back.

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

The next morning was a rude awakening for Dick Grayson. He couldn’t believe his own eyes. Out of him and his family, Jason was supposed to be the shallow, man whore who slept around with girl after girl every night. Jason was supposed to be less likely one to find a girl, actually fall in love with her and be serious. Because anyone who knows the Batboys knows each of them are viewed a certain way.

 Bruce is the playboy billionaire.

Dick is charming and sweet.

Jason is rough bad boy.

Tim is intelligent and kind.

Damian is a cute demon spawn.

And even Alfred is a badass savage.

 When Jason and Y/N announced their relationship, Dick smirked to himself. He knew there was no way Jason was ‘serious relationship material’ and he knew their relationship would end before it even started.

 He’ll fuck up. He always screws up because he inevitably fucks up everything he does, Dick thinks to himself. And once he does, I’ll be there for her, and she’ll be mine.

 But Jason never fucks up, not with Y/N. To everyone, Jason and Y/N are beautifully perfect together. Dick does manage to fix his friendship with Y/N, and the two are closer than they’ve ever been. It isn’t until after Jason and Y/N’s one year anniversary that Dick finally accepts their relationship.

 Because it wasn’t long until Jason got Bruce and Alfred’s blessing to propose to Y/N. The engagement ring is a beautiful black solitaire diamond, and the reason doesn’t confuse Dick at all, because Y/N isn’t like other diamonds.

 Their wedding is something out of a fairy tale storybook. Dick had to admit that seeing Y/N in a wedding dress made him cry, because he knew she would have the time of her life with Jason on the honeymoon.

 Three years later, Jason and Y/N announce they’re having their first child together, a boy, the news actually made Bruce tear up because Jason and Y/N were giving him his first grandson.

 Call it fucking karma, but Dick finally saw just how beautiful Y/N was, as a wife and a mother.

 But Dick was just a little too late.

 And now she was Jason’s.

 His girl.

[pigeonwhumps]

Auction part 2

Immortal Cannon Fodder masterlist

Whumptober masterlist

Day 16: NO WAY OUT | mind control | paralytic drugs | "no-one's coming"

Taglist: @extrabitterbrain @wolfeyedwitch

Phoenix is sold at auction.

1.6k

CWs: minor whumpee (17 year old), non-con drugging, non-con nudity (non-sexual), non-con touching (mostly non-sexual – not detailed), restrained

When Phoenix wakes, they’re shivering, legs bare and bent, pressed against something hard and cold. It feels like tiles. They try to move their arms around themself but there’s a clinking sound and they can’t.

“Finally. You’re awake. I was beginning to think we’d have to auction you off unconscious.”

Phoenix snaps their eyes open at the sound of Earthshaker’s voice, remembering where they are. They’re chained kneeling to the floor, power-dampening cuffs snapped around their wrists, completely naked aside from the mask covering the top half of their face (which explains the cold – they try to hunch over, to cover themself, but they can’t). They pull at the chain, feeling for weak links or rust or... something, they’re not sure, but anything that can get them out of this. There’s nothing though, their chains are solid.

“Now, now, don’t try that. You can’t get out of here without any powers. Not that camouflage will do you any good.”

“Fuck you,” spits Phoenix. Their illusion and camouflage powers have saved them more times than they can count, even though Abbie hates them using them (but then, she’s not there most of the time).

Earthshaker rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes, they certainly named you right. All fire and no substance. Now, hold still.”

The supervillain pulls out a syringe and Phoenix eyes it warily. “What’s in that?”

“Paralytic.”

“That’ll kill me! You need me alive!”

“Oh, little firebird. Don’t look so worried. I wouldn’t kill you. This is a new formula, developed by my best scientists. You will be able to breathe, although everything else will be paralysed. It will allow me to display you in the best possible way for prospective buyers.”

“You’re not coming anywhere near me with that!” shouts Phoenix, pulling back as far as they can. All they succeed in doing is pinning themself into a corner, unable to stop Earthshaker depressing the syringe into their shoulder. They feel their body start to slow, dropping out of their control, and with a last-ditch effort they say thickly, “Do you get some sort of kick out of drugging people?”

“Only you. You’re a pain in all of our asses, and I am very much looking forward to getting you out of our way. I wonder who will buy you.” Phoenix tries to open their mouth, to tell Earthshaker that they won’t be bought, they’re not just going to give in, but they can’t. Their mouth won’t move. The drug is kicking in far earlier than they’d expected and they’re terrified. They try to smother their emotions but too slowly. Earthshaker smiles. “There’s that fear. Such fire, and yet there’s no-one coming for you, is there? There never is.”

With the last of their strength they push a finger out of their fist, holding it up at Earthshaker. The supervillain snarls, backhanding Phoenix hard across the face.

“You’re going to regret that. I can let the buyers do whatever they like, if I choose.” He snaps his fingers and two black-clothed attendants appear. “Display them in room two.”

The woman picks Phoenix up and drapes them over her shoulder, heading out of the room. Phoenix’s stomach rolls with dread as they’re taken through the corridors of the mansion and dropped roughly on the thinning carpet in one of the rooms. They can’t even begin to move away, they can’t even focus their eyes, everything’s blurry. The two attendants waste no time in brusquely chaining Phoenix back up, wrists attached to a beam hanging from the ceiling and feet attached to a spreader bar, as far apart as they can go. They’re spread-eagled, naked in front of anyone who might walk in, and they feel horribly exposed. After the attendants leave without a word spoken, Phoenix can still feel their rough, too-tight hands on their body.

It’s weird, they think, being so afraid and yet unable to feel any of the physical effects of it. No stomach cramps, no tight muscles... it’s unusual. They can’t decide whether they prefer it, and that disgusts them. They’re chained up like some mockery of a hero, only wearing their mask, visible for all to see, and yet there are parts of this that they... prefer? God.

They hate most of this. They hate that they, too, can see their body, and their breathing comes in short gasps as they contemplate their situation. Trapped, helpless, alone. No-one coming for them, they never do, Abbie trusts them to get out of their own messes. They won’t die, after all.

Breathe. Just breathe. They need to breathe. They focus on that, because there’s nothing else to focus on. Not yet.

At least they won’t die.

They’re not sure how long they stay like that, alone in this room, before there’s movement and voices outside. Phoenix prepares themself. If they could, they’d grit their teeth. This isn’t going to be pleasant.

And it isn’t pleasant. Villains crowd into the room, touching them, hands too tight and too intimate and too much, groping, squeezing their arms, nails digging in, scraping down their body, leaving stinging cuts. It’s too much, they’re all too close, boxing them in, and they fight to keep their breathing even. Some people don’t touch, just circle Phoenix, examining them, and they can hear their breathing. It’s still too damn close.

Finally, finally, staff members come to usher the villains out, and Phoenix is left... not in peace, not exactly, but alone at least. They can still feel the echoes of touch everywhere, bruising hands, blood trickling down their back. They still can’t move a muscle. Everything hurts, and not just on the outside, they hurt with the pain and indignity of being strung up like this, like a piece of meat, like a mockery of a person, everyone looking. They can’t even move to cover themself at all.

Suddenly, Earthshaker’s voice booms loud near them, and they would jump if they could.

“And now it’s time for today’s main attraction! Many of you here have been insulted, hurt, homes destroyed, plans thwarted, by our little Firebird here, and now, for one time only, they’re for sale, for you to do with as you wish! But first, can you hear me, little hero?” There’s a pause. “Of course, I forgot. You can’t answer. But they’re listening, believe me. So. Bidding starts at £100,000!”

Phoenix tunes out the majority of the auction, not wanting to hear what amount people are willing to pay for them. But they need to know who’s bought them, so they keep one ear out for when their name is mentioned again.

“And Firebird is sold for £2.3 million to Black Ice!”

Phoenix goes cold. Fuck. Not her. They’ve crossed paths before, and what will she do to them for what happened then? They try to concentrate back on Earthshaker’s voice.

“... our attendants will pack them as per your directions.” The speaker clicks off abruptly, and Phoenix drifts, wondering what will happen to them now.

They’re not sure how long it is before two more black-clothed attendants appear in the doorway, followed by Earthshaker and Black Ice. Phoenix still can’t see very well but if they struggle they can focus a little. The paralytic must be wearing off.

Of course, with four people in the room, at least two powered, and still barely able to move even when the chains and spreader bar are removed, it doesn’t make much of a difference. They topple forwards, falling on their face with a thump.

“Just tie them up so they can’t move,” orders Black Ice crisply, “and blindfold them.”

“Yes, ma’am,” says one of the attendants, and Phoenix is kicked over onto their back. The attendants start winding chains around them, binding their arms to their torso and their legs together.

“So,” says Earthshaker, “just out of personal curiosity, what are you planning to do with them?”

“Oh, you’ll find out when it happens. But don’t worry, I won’t go soft on them. They blew up my base, after all.”

Black Ice is standing above them now, supervising the attendants, and Phoenix forces a tiny smirk onto their face. Despite everything, that memory still brings them satisfaction. Black Ice was the first villain they defeated.

“And you’re going to regret doing it. Would you like to know what my plans for you are?”

Phoenix can’t respond yet, and Black Ice waits for the blindfold to be tied tightly over their mask before bending down to whisper in their ear.

Phoenix doesn’t react to the words. They couldn’t, even if they wanted to. But as they’re lifted and jostled, taken out into the cool night air and dumped on something... not entirely hard, but not soft either, they have nothing to do but think on her proclamation. Something slams behind them and an engine starts, and Phoenix’s mind just keeps circling. The paralytic’s wearing off, and although it doesn’t help them escape it allows them to tremble with fear. Nausea roils in their stomach and they take deep, slow breaths, trying not to throw up. They need to survive this until they can escape, and that won’t be helped by vomiting all over Black Ice’s car.

It’s difficult not to, though, when they think about what’s in store for them. How are they supposed to survive that?

How are they supposed to get out of it?

Maybe someone will rescue them. It’s very unlikely but, maybe, just maybe, if they’re missing long enough... maybe someone will care enough to help.

Maybe one day.

Picrews of Earthshaker and Black Ice! (picrew here)

[holypapaya]

Peaches (Konro Sagamiya x Reader NSFW 18+)

Fem! Reader

Konro and his girlfriend run home to escape the rain. When they decide to eat sweet peaches as a snack.

Warnings: age gap, denial, rough sex, oral play, begging 

Skip to ** for sexy time. 2,000+ words. 

________

God, how is she so beautiful? And, how in the hell didn't I notice her before? 

These were the two questions Konro would ask himself repeatedly whenever he took Y/N out on their weekly dates. Unfortunately, the morning was a sweltering and humid day that overwhelmed the Great Tokyo Empire. Konro suggested that they have their date later in the evening to avoid the rain and the burning hot sun. Y/N's clothes hugged her glamorous curves as her skin glistened from a thin veil of sweat. The lantern lights that hugged the walls to local businesses created a soft glow.

Staring at her in awe was not a part of the plan. Well, none of this was a part of any plan, actually. Not even his life plan. They've been dating for a little over a month since Konro first met Y/N. His typical routine trip was to see Seamstress Granny to fix any rips in his uniform. That day he tore his pants while rebuilding Asakusa after the most recent Infernal attack. With his uniform in hand, he walked through the door, the bell ringing as it slid open. Just as he was about to call the elderly woman, he noticed the most beautiful, enchanting woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Konro was so stunned by her beauty that he didn't hear her greet him or ask what he needed to be done. Since then, he’s gotten to know Y/N well over time.

Before running her Granny's store full time, Y/N would visit Asakusa three times a week to help around. That’s why Konro found it unbelievable that he never noticed her before. Honestly, it was probably because of the increase of Infernal activity, but that was no excuse in his mind. Y/N stood slightly taller than most women in the empire and was curvier than other women too. Her full breasts always pulling at her shirt and plump ass tight, giving a slight jiggle as she walked. Despite all of this, Konro still towered over her. Don't misunderstand this, though; he is dating her not for her body but because he earnestly enjoys Y/N's company. Y/N made him feel things he hadn't felt in years or even within his lifetime.

Y/N's thumb gently rubbed the back of his bandaged hand as they held hands while walking down the street. Y/N was smiling greatly as she continued to talk. Konro wasn’t exactly the talkative type, so hearing Y/N talk brought him immense joy. The self-proclaimed hermit has found a friendly, outgoing puppy to love day in and out. Being with Y/N even made Konro feel young again. He's heard that having a significantly younger girlfriend can change a man's energy levels, but Konro didn't expect to feel this young. Especially his sex drive.

Being overwhelmed with work duties almost made him forget what a sex life was. Work. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. This was his routine for many years. However, when he was younger, Konro always managed to find time to "express his sexual desires" is a polite way of saying it. In other words, straight-up fucking. But as the years flew by and seeing Benimaru become captain of the 7th, Konro had more distractions, to say the least. With Y/N, it was different, though. She sparked something deep inside of him. In his many years of life, Konro never had the animalistic urge to make a woman cry, scream and mess them up during sex as much as Y/N.  He almost had the chance too. Almost.

Last week, Y/N and Konro decided to go back to base for some privacy. During that time of day, mostly, everyone would be out making rounds or going out to eat, so it seemed like the perfect time. Right in front of him, Y/N laid bare. Her head bobbing up and down his shaft, her right hand moving in sync with her head, her left hand gently caressing his hip. Konro's deep blue eyes stared at Y/N, hypnotized by her beauty. Carefully, he placed his hand on the back of her head, adding a slight pressure, silently asking her to deep throat him. Which she happily obliged. That's when he heard it -the Infernal alarm. Y/N's eyes grew wide as she met Konro's. She released his now soft dick from her mouth as she watched Konro get up and hurriedly dressed himself.

It's only been a week since they've last had time for each other. Yes, they would greet each other outside or maybe have a small lunch if they had the time. But, they were never truly alone, just two people immersed in a chaotic world. Konro couldn't help but think  about if he would ever get a chance to redeem himself. He could kill a man at this point to see Y/N's lush body naked in front of him again.

Y/N let out a sound of confusion, "Konro, I think it's going to start raining," she looked up at the sky after feeling something damp hit her face.

"Hmmm," he mused, still lost in his train of thought.

That's when he felt it. A sudden shower washed over the both of them. Y/N pulled Konro by his arm, leading him down a side street. 'Let's go back to my place,' she called back behind her. Konro followed her, watching droplets run down her soft skin.

'Please, one more chance,' Konro chanted in his head all the way to her apartment. As they entered the one-bedroom, Y/N handed Konro a fresh towel. Then, she walked over to the refrigerator, asking her boyfriend if he liked peaches.

** "Yeah," he said, watching her pull out the fruit and a knife to cut it. Y/N cut the delicate fruit in half, pitting it, and proceeded to slice it. With every movement, her hair stuck to her neck and shoulders. Konro walked over to Y/N, pushing her damp hair to her shoulder, exposing her neck and collar bone. His calloused fingers massaged between her shoulder and neck. He saw goosebumps wash over her skin and grinned to himself. Leaning forward, Konro kissed Y/N's jaw and noticed a slight coat of pink on her cheeks. Y/N pushed a peach slice towards his lips. As Konro was just about to take a bite, Y/N took it back and put half of it in her mouth. She looked up at the older man with what he thought was a look of innocence and lustful hunger.  Y/N offered the other half of the peach that was sticking out of her mouth. With his large hand, Konro tilted her jaw up and took in the fruit.

On Y/N's bed, Konro propped himself up on his forearms to make sure not to put his total weight on Y/N. She laid beneath him in nothing but her bra and underwear. Konro was already halfway undressed with only his pants remaining. They kissed each other for a long time. While feeling his tongue slowly go in and out of Y/N's mouth, Konro imagined his cock doing the same thing inside of her. Konro continued to grind his hard cock into Y/N’s clad pussy.

Y/N let a long feminine sigh followed by a moan, feeling pressure onto her wet lips. She gently ran her nails down his abdomen, feeling his chiseled abs, before finally reaching his belt. She pulled at the material, hoping to touch his dick directly. Just the thought about touching it again caused her pussy to throb with excitement. Konro released her mouth from his and grunted in her ear,

"Not yet, baby," Konro nibbled on her earlobe, "Just wait a little longer. I'll treat you just as good as you treated me last time".

Konro moved Y/N's bra strap down her shoulder to have access to her collarbone. Then he nibbled and sucked until he left a light mark on her skin. Konro snaked his arm behind her back, unclasping her bra. Removing the material, he threw it onto the floor. Konro grabbed one of Y/N's full tits in his hand, gently but firmly. He flicked her nipple with his tongue, causing Y/N to inhale sharply. Frustratingly slow, Konro then started to suck her nipple, flicking it now and then. Y/N whined in frustration how Konro was still dressed.

He released her nipple, and while undoing his pants with one hand, he still massaged her tit with his other. Konro smiled down at Y/N almost wickedly as he watched her flushed face looked directly at his crotch. He kicked off his pants with one swift movement and found his way to Y/N's underwear, taking it off. Konro pulled down the thin material, excitement further boiling in him, realizing how wet Y/N was. She wasn't just wet but soaked. While kneeling, Konro grabbed her slender ankles, bringing her legs over his shoulder. Y/N's glistening lips in direct view of his face, and of course, his mouth. With a big lap of his tongue, Konro tasted Y/N's pussy greedily. He wasn't just licking her but also sucking on her drenched lips and swollen cit. Slurping and sloshing filled the room.

Y/N stared at Konro hazily, pleasure surging through her distracting her from any thought. She gripped her sheets tightly as her moans echoed. Seeing her boyfriend liked this not only made her feel wanted but happy. Konro has always been a very giving man. He gave up everything for Asakusa and Benimaru. So when the demon Infernal came, Konro didn't have to fight it alone. Instead, he chose to, for a simple but heroic cause. To protect the people he cared for. So seeing him eating her out hungrily and groping her body greedily made Y/N realize that Konro could express what he truly desired. He could tell her what he wanted and how he wanted it openly. Of course, in Konro's mind, he was primarily doing this to pleasure Y/N, but Y/N enjoyed seeing a different side of him.

Taking one last swipe at her clit, Konro lowered her legs, peering at his lover. A deep shudder swept across his body as he saw Y/N's face. Her cheeks flushed pink, lips slightly parted as her eyes stared at him dreamily—her chest lifting with every breath she took. Y/N looked absolutely decadent. However, she wasn't ready yet. Only eating her out wasn't going to be enough to stretch her for the pounding of her lifetime. Again, he grasped her lips with his own, tongue snaking into her mouth. Y/N let out a feminine sigh as her eyes fluttered shut as she was engulfed with pleasure. Her arms found their way around his neck, holding his closer. Carefully, he lowered his weight onto Y/N, causing her to open her legs further.

One hand trailed down her abdomen, finding its way to Y/N's sweet drenched hole. He flicked her inner lips teasingly before sticking one digit in. Next, he curled his finger upward, finding her g-spot. Y/N ended to kiss to arch her back in pleasure. Konro chuckled at her reaction, slowly rubbing the inside of her pussy.

"Just a little longer, baby. I need to open you up cause you're so tight."

He inserted another finger. He spread the two as far as they could, expanding her walls. Then he would bring them back together rubbing the top of her velvety walls. This went on in a pattern, almost like he was massaging the inside of her pussy. His rough fingers thick fingers felt so right inside of her. But there was something else that she needed with urgency. Something else belonged inside of her. Y/N grabbed his thick biceps, her head turning to the side. She bit her lip, begging Konro.

"Kon, please, please-"

He ignored her pleas, "Are you gonna coat my dick with your cum like you're doing with my fingers," he felt her walls tighten around him.

"Yes, I wanna cover your dick with my cum. Please", Y/N cried.

"Say my name, the way I like it."

God, he's so cute, Y/N thought to herself.

Looking at Konro softly, she said, "Kon-Kon."

Konro smiled with satisfaction removing his fingers.

He wrapped Y/N's thighs around his waist as he watched her quiver. Cock in hand, he rubbed the tip along her slit. Y/N's juices slicking his thick tip as pre-cum drooled out of Konro. Then he gently pushed his cock into her slowly as her walls stretched around him. Konro tilted his head back, moaning, feeling Y/N's velvety warmth grip around his pulsating member. Then, as Y/N let out a cry of pleasure, Konro stayed still just for a moment, letting Y/N get used to his length.

 Gently, he caressed Y/N's face with his large hand, cupping her cheek. Konro rubbed her lower lip with his thumb. 

"See, baby," he practically purred, "You're so wet you took me in one thrust." 

Konro shallowly thrusted into Y/N's tight pussy wanting to see her reaction. Y/N rubbed her cheek into his palm, letting out a soft moan. To Konro's surprise, Y/N opened her mouth slightly, inviting his thumb inside. Then, she gently sucked. Konro took in a sharp breath, feeling his cock twitch with excitement. His Y/N was always full of fun surprises.                  

 Y/N released his thumb, eyes glazed with sexual desire, "Kon-Kon, I'm ready."

Say no more.

Konro pulled his cock out before slamming back into her. Y/N dug her nails into his back as her eyes widen with surprise. She felt a knot in her stomach as her pussy clench down on his thick cock. She couldn’t hold back her voice anymore. A load cry escaped her lips. Konro looked his lover with a sensual but firm gaze. He was in complete control. He was the dominant one. Each thrust reached further and further back to her cervix. 

Y/N’s loud moans matched the rhythm of each thrust, echoing in the small apartment. Her pussy aching in the most pleasurable ways. She moved her head to side as Y/N felt her body heat up further. Konro gently cupped her cheek again, turning her gaze over to his. 

“Look at me, baby.” 

Oh no. That was a fatal mistake. 

Y/N felt her pussy clench as Konro’s deep blue eyes met hers. The slight curve of his dick ran over her G-spot mercilessly. His body warm, skin soft, muscles tensed. How did Konro go untouched for so long? There had to of been someone in the whole empire that tried to sleep with him. It’s unbelievable that no one had tried.

Y/N gently wrapped her arms of Konro’s thick neck, bringing him closer.

“Kon-Kon. Hold. Me. More. Go. Deeper. Please”, Y/N moaned between each thrust.

Konro smiled, kissing Y/N’s forehead. How could he say no to such a cutie. She even said ‘please’. Konro wrapped one arm around Y/N’s mid back, clutching her body to his. As his thrusts became deeper and wilder, Konro cooed soft nothings into Y/N’s ear as her pussy tightened and her moans grew louder and louder. Then her body grew tense, a small gasp leaving her lips. Y/N’s urgent moans came to a stop. Konro felt the wet walls that cloak his cock spasm as his girlfriend’s body arched up. Y/N dug her face into Konro’s shoulder, orgasm ripping through her body. 

Swiftly Konro removed his dick to coat Y/N’s soft abdomen with his cum. He placed soft kisses all over Y/N’s flushed face, asking her if she was okay. Konro knew he wasn’t a small man, both in height and cock-wise. He cared about the well-being of his little puppy. Y/N ran her fingers through his jostled hair as she kissed his neck. 

“You can go rougher, you know.”

Konro smiled. Noted: can go rougher next time.    

[after-witch]

A Simple Cup of Tea [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Title: A Simple Cup of Tea [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Synopsis: You have to be prepared and poised and perfect. But it’s hard to be all those things, even with the looming threat of your husband sitting next to you, when you’ve got a secret hidden underneath your clothes...

Word Count: 1875

Notes: yandere, forced marriage, abuse, bondage, NSFW 

Poised.

You must be poised. Every movement, every gesture, must embody a quiet grace. Your face must be pleasant, without seeming garishly joyous. Your voice must be soft, melodic, clear; yet loud enough to be heard without being required to repeat yourself. 

You must know how to keep a conversation going smoothly, like water in a stream, yet understand when to keep silent. You must know all of these things and so much more, and act on them at all times in the proper degree; all in order to avoid embarrass yourself and more importantly, embarrassing your husband.

In other words, you must be perfect.

And you try--you have to try, because what other choice does Scaramouche leave you?--but it’s difficult. You were never born for this stifled life he’s pushed you into, for a life spent mostly within the walls of his home or at most, behind the high, impenetrable walls of the courtyard.

A life draped in rich clothing, overseeing fine details of the estate that make your head spin. How many bags of this or that must be ordered per week? When should the bedding in that room be washed? What is the appropriate amount of money to put in a servant’s purse when sending them to the market? Questions you never imagined yourself asking yourself, which now fill your day with a gilded tedium.

There’s a deceptive leisure lurking underneath everything here. True, you no longer have to travel far and wide, selling your family’s wares from heavy baskets carried on your back; you no longer have to search the edges of the forest for edible plants to toss into boiling broth on days when you could not afford meat. You never want for food (unless he takes your dinner away as punishment) and any comfort you could need is within reach, so long as you’re behaving.

But you are on edge, always. Preparing yourself for another pitfall that might open up beneath your feet, and always looking for ways to improve yourself. Or at least ways to avoid earning your husband’s sharp disapproval. Regardless of your efforts, you have been on the wrong end of a harsh insult, a slap, a pinch, a cane, more times than you care to count.

Be prepared, be poised, be perfect. It’s the mantra you repeat to yourself every morning.

The mantra you repeated to yourself this particular morning, in preparation for a meeting he insisted you attend. A meeting which apparently required your finely-tuned skills in pleasing conversation and your much-practiced ability to “pour a passable cup of tea.”

Anyone else might assume it was meant to be an insult, but your time with Scaramouche has led to you to understand that the slightest praise towards you, while minuscule to others, was something you were meant to fall on your knees and thank him for. Sometimes literally, depending on his mood.

Why he wanted you to pour tea for some delegates from Fontaine, and what their increasing presence in the area really meant, you didn’t know. But it wasn’t your place to ask him, and the memory of recent stinging pain on your backside keeps you from feeling even remotely tempted to broach the subject.

So here you are. Dressed elegantly, but not garishly, as is proper for his wife. With a tea pot in your hand and perfectly arranged cups and the ghost of a pleasing smile on your face. Charming words drip from your lips, pleasantries, pleasantries, pleasantries--the type of words Scaramouche loathes yet drums into you all the same.

Prepared, poised, perfect.

Except for the slight tremble of your hands.

Except for the uncomfortable hitch in your breath as you speak.

Except for the fact that there are ropes tied snugly around your breasts, wrapping around your chest and criss-crossing between your breasts with an uncomfortable pressure, all hidden underneath the outfit he’d chosen for you that afternoon.

You’d balked, first--then begged. Begged not to be humiliated like this. What if someone sees? What will people say? You’d even tried to appeal to his pride, suggesting that if you couldn’t fully concentrate on your duties, well, how would that reflect on him?

All that earned you was a glint of a smirk and a tug as he knotted the rope encircling your breasts, making it even tighter than before. His final threat at your continued pleading--”I can always make you go out in nothing but the ropes”--finally shut you up.

And so, here you are. Face hot with shame and something more, silently pleading that your clothing won’t somehow shift and reveal the secret underneath. Despite the layers covering you, you still feel naked, exposed. As if the people indulging in polite conversation can see right through you, see the way your breasts are framed by the itchy ropes. See the way your body is responding to such a total humiliation. 

It’s not just the chafing rope that bothers you. It’s the pressure itself. It feels… no, you don’t want to think about how it feels.

Instead, you hone your focus in on the task at hand. Pouring the tea, a nice subtle blend made with Violetgrass flowers. A previous round of guests from Fontaine had enjoyed it so well that Scaramouche had you tell the teashop to start stocking up for future visits.

You wish you could hide the way your hand trembles ever so slightly as you pour the last cup of tea for a woman whose name you regrettably can’t remember. You normally repeat their names over and over in your head, lest you forget and endure Scaramouche’s sharp tongue (if not his cane) later on; but your predicament made it impossible to keep track of new information.

You might be able to enjoy the tea, enjoy the facsimile of polite conversation weaving its way around the table, if only you weren’t so distracted by the tightness, the chafing, the undeniable fact that--oh Archons above, that all of this was making your nipples humiliatingly hard underneath your clothing.

“Do you agree, wife?”

All eyes glance at you. Whatever Scaramouche just said had clearly be addressed to you, only you were too distracted to notice.

In the moments that you’re left half-gaping, mentally groping to somehow pull his previous words out from the ether, his hand snakes around your waist. You feel his fingers on the outside of the soft fabric, searching until they find their intended target--the knot--and tugging hard to tighten it further.

You gasp, your body lurching upward and forward at the sudden sensation of your breasts being squeezed, and the tea pot you’re still holding drops to the table. Time seems to slow to a thick crawl, and you can see the pot is not cracked, but tipped over, hot tea spilling onto the table underneath with abandon.

The sight of the dark brown stain spreading, trickling underneath saucers and cups, leaves you helpless until you force your shaking hands to grab the pot and set it back up on the table.

“I, I--” you start to stutter something. An apology? An explanation? But the constricting ropes and the dawning realization that you have just committed an extensive social faux pas--in front of guests, no less--leaves you helplessly unable to speak.

The guests, for their part, look suitably uncomfortable. The woman whose name you can’t remember is holding onto her cup, saving it from being intercepted by the trickling tea. You don’t know whether their looks are because of your embarrassing display or because they know your husband’s reputation, and feel pity for you. Perhaps a bit of both.

Scaramouche’s voice cuts through the tension, though it does nothing to lessen it.

“I apologize for my wife’s clumsiness,” he says. “I should have realized that she wasn’t up to the apparently complex task of serving tea.” His voice is dripping with condescension, making more heat rise to your cheeks.

Humiliation does not begin to describe what you feel as he gently--public appearances, you think--takes your arm and stands, bringing you with him.

“Perhaps you are ill.” He looks you up and down, faux-concern written all over his face. But you know what he’s really thinking about, as his eyes linger on your chest for a fraction longer than they should.

You swallow hard, and do your best to nod. It doesn’t take any effort to look ashamed at what’s transpired.

“I--I have been feeling unwell,” you say, making sure to project loud enough for the audience he’s curated for you. “I may be too tired.”

He shakes his head, as if he can’t believe your silliness. A silly, silly wife--that’s what you are. Never mind that it’s all his fault. Never mind that he chose to do this to you, and chose to do it in front of guests. 

A small, bitter part of you resents the guests for being there at all, resents the fact that they probably know you’re an unwilling ornament to the Harbringer’s obsession but do nothing about it.

But what good does resenting them do, when it won’t change your fate?

He takes your hand and gives it a pat, each touch patronizing to the core.

“Apologize to our guests and go rest. And send someone more capable to clean up your mess.”

You have to apologize for the fact that you spilled tea due to his decision to engage in some perverse bondage in a public fashion. You have to apologize for the fact that he deliberately made you do it, too, knowing how you might react when he pulled the rope.

It’s horrible and humiliating and unfair. 

But you do it anyway.

Turning towards the guests, gaze downcast with shame, you force out an apology; keeping your voice soft and melodic and clear, as expected.

Then you retreat as calmly as possible, feeling everyone’s gaze--but especially his--on your back as you leave. You catch the eye of the nearest servant as you make your way back to the bedroom, laying out the quickest version of events and not relishing the look of anxiety that crosses their features at the thought of dealing with Scaramouche after such an apparent social travesty.

But you only have enough energy to consider your own anxieties, so you continue on without thinking more about them.

Walking only seems to make the feeling of constriction worse, and you bite down on your lip as your sensitive nipples begin rubbing against the fabric with every step. It feels good, it feels bad--whatever it is, it’s all too much, and you want nothing more to cut off the ropes and hide until the morning.

Not that you have the courage to risk such an endeavor.

You don’t feel any calmer by the time you reach your shared bedroom, but at least your humiliation is a private one, now. And you can rest, at least until he’s finished for the evening. For a moment, you simply stand still, bringing your arm across your chest and pressing to provide some pressure, some relief, to your sensitive breasts. 

There’s an undeniable twist in your stomach when your arms brush against your nipples, and you hate it, and you love it, and you feel just as sick and perverse as he is when you slide a hand inside your clothing and give one aching nipple a pinch. You rub your legs together and ah, there it is--the pleasurable tingling and beginnings of wetness, and well, why not give yourself some pleasure, you think; why not give yourself something good and pleasant before he comes in and ruins everything with whatever sick punishment he’s concocting? 

It’s not until you make to curl up on the large bed, eager to relive the tension building inside you, that you see the scroll wrapped up on the pillow. With a sense of justifiable dread building in your stomach, you sit, and unfurl it. 

The words are written in Scaramouche’s familiar handwriting:

“Take off your clothes. Lay down and spread your legs on the bed until I return. Don’t touch yourself. I will know if you haven’t followed my instructions.”

Bastard, you think. As if your humiliation today wasn’t strong enough. Your hands go to undue the fastenings keeping your clothes together, and the first hints of bare skin leave you with anticipatory goosebumps. How long would you be expected to be on the bed, presenting yourself for his apparent pleasure? 

Bastard, bastard, bastard.

But--well. At least he didn’t tell you to bend over the caning stool again.