#frankly the things they are doing make me so feral

[audliminal]

S6 game changer eps ranked in order of quality

1. Beat the Buzzer

1. Deja Vu

1. Bingo

1. Pencils Down

1. Sam Says 3

1. The Newlyweb Game

2. Second Place

[gojorgeous]

"MINE, MINE, MINE."

pairing: alpha!geto x omega!fem!reader summary: your doctor won’t refill your prescription until you’ve reset your cycle. you’re desperate for that refill, but geto’s not having it. content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), a/b/o dynamics, nsfw, dubcon? (reader doesn’t want a heat but it’s medically necessary (LMAO what)), established relationship, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, pet names, knotting, slight manipulation, dacryphilia, somnophilia, spit, blood, oral (fem!receiving), so much licking and smelling?, geto and reader are just downright feral LMAO, lmk if i missed anything. a/n: have y’all figured out that i have a breeding kink yet… anyway, this is the first a/b/o fic that i’ve ever written but i just read one and was feeling *inspired*. if people want i might do a prequel sort of thing for this that goes more in-depth about how they met and stuff. lmk! also, i have a vampire gojo fic planned hehe get ready bbs. if you want more of my omegaverse fics check out my alpha!gojo fic here! and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! divider credit to: @cafekitsune wc: 5.2k

“No.” 

No? You shift in your seat, cold and plastic, sure you must have heard him wrong. 

“I’m sorry?” you ask. You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, an anxious habit.

“I can’t refill the prescription. I’m sorry, but, frankly, it would be completely irresponsible of me to do so. I’m shocked your previous physician prescribed them for so long.” Fingers find yours and twine them together. Your eyes flash to Geto, but he’s only staring at your new doctor, staring with that furrow in his brow he only gets when he’s worried.

Your new, soon-to-be old, doctor sighs again, running a hand through his thinning white hair. “You need to have a heat as soon as possible, allow your body to recalibrate. Indefinite use of suppressants is dangerous and unhealthy. They are meant to manage your cycles, not stop them altogether.” 

Sweat beads on your palms. He can’t be serious. But it’s his first opinion. Surely there’s another option.

“I-I’m sorry, doctor. I don’t think I’m understanding.” 

Another glance at Geto reveals that he’s frowning now. When his eyes find yours you see the decision there, one he’s already made without you. Your stomach drops.

The doctor sighs and suddenly the walls of the office feel small, tight, suffocating. The twinge of alcohol and chemicals in the air makes your nose scrunch. “Let me say this clearly. I will not refill your prescription for suppressants, nor will any other reputable physician. You have been taking them continuously for far too long. You risk permanent damage should you delay a proper cycle any longer.” The doctor glances to Geto, then back to you. “Go home with your alpha and allow nature to take its course. It’s what’s best.” 

Your eyes widen with realization– you are not leaving this office with what you came for. Your heart pounds and your palms sweat. “Th-that can’t happen, doctor. I need my suppressants. My job- I can’t be out that long a-and Geto can’t either, we–” 

“We will go home,” Geto interrupts, and his tone is final. “Thank you, doctor, for the advice.” 

Geto pulls you to your feet, gently but firmly. He leaves no question about the fact that you’re leaving. You can feel the intensity radiating off him in waves. You ignore it. You turn to your new doctor, silently smiting him. Why did your old one have to retire?

“Doctor, you don’t underst–” 

“Thank you again,” Geto interrupts.

Before you can make another sound, another protest, Geto pulls you through the door, out of the office, and back to the car. He opens the door for you, as he always does, except this time you’re not so eager to accept his chivalry. 

“Suguru,” you bite out. His eyes meet yours, but they are surprisingly gentle. So calm. How is he always calm? 

“Just get in, baby. We’ll talk about it in the car.”

You debate saying no, but you can’t bring yourself to start a fight when he’s being so good. You grumble when you climb in, buckling your seatbelt before Geto can do it for you.

The engine revs to life, but you hardly notice. You’re already scrolling your phone, the search bar reading a simple and straightforward “doctors offices near me”. You scroll right past the first ten, for once in your life wanting a doctor that’s a little sketchy. You scroll further– still not sketchy enough. Someone who’ll give you the prescription you need, even if it’s not necessarily… ethical. Or maybe you could get some on the street? Surely there was some kind of dealing ring for that. There was a dealing ring for everything, right?

“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, but his fingers are tight around the steering wheel, skin stretched tight across his knuckles.

You lift your phone to your ear, dialing the first office that looked relatively shitty enough. “Getting a second opinion,” you answer. 

Suguru plucks the phone so swiftly from your fingers that you hardly even notice it’s gone. You see him end the call and slip it into his back pocket, out of your reach. 

“Hey!” You scramble across the center console, hopelessly grabbing at your lost phone, your last hope. 

Suguru grabs your wrist, restraining you far too easily for your liking. “You’re not getting it back,” he says. His eyes never leave the road. 

Your brows pinch and anger boils in your stomach. “This is not for you to decide. It’s my body.”

He glances at you, unconcerned. Still calm. “And you’re not in a headspace to be making a responsible decision about it, so I’m making it for you.”

Your jaw drops and you pry your wrist free of his grasp. You escape, but you know it’s only because he allows it. “I am of perfectly sound mind, thank you.” 

He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re blinded by desperation.” 

“It’s still not for you to decide!” When you don’t notice any change in his expression, you switch tactics– from anger to honesty. You let your face fall, let your true feelings creep through. “You know how much I hate it, Su.” 

Finally, he cracks. It’s instantaneous, the way he melts for you- the way the soft smile finds his lips and his hand finds yours, twining your fingers together. “I know, but you have to, baby. You heard the doctor.” 

You clench your jaw and avoid the sting of tears behind your eyes. You had heard the doctor, but you weren’t ready. Maybe next month, when you’d had more time to mentally prepare. 

Your skin crawled. You hated it, hated this. You hadn’t had a heat in years, avoiding them like the plague. You hated how vulnerable they made you, how they put you at the mercy of another. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Suguru– you did. You trusted him more than anyone, anything, but you still hated the feeling of being so completely helpless, so completely out of control, even if it was Suguru you were submitting to. 

For most of your life, you’d successfully hidden your omega status. With the help of suppressants, you’d passed as a beta until your early twenties. Then you met Geto. 

You’d met at work. He was cute, beautiful even, you’d thought, but he screamed alpha– and alphas could be dangerous, especially for hiding, unclaimed omegas like you. You’d stayed away as long as you could and, for a while, you were quite successful. You avoided him in the halls, sat at the opposite end of the table in meetings, replied to emails succinctly but politely. All was well until you’d been trapped in an elevator with him one morning, biting your lip anxiously as you waited to reach the twelfth floor. He’d smelled so good that day, perhaps due to an oncoming rut. You hadn’t been able to resist inching closer, taking deeper breaths. Suguru would later tell you that he’d suspected your hidden status, but he had no reason to question you. At least, not until he had you up against the elevator wall with his face buried in your neck. One deep whiff was all he’d needed to know exactly what you were, even with suppressants in your system.

You’d dated for a little over a year, until you’d decided he was the one. Your fingers dust over the mate mark on your throat, the one that had not only made you undoubtedly Suguru’s, but also the one that had revealed to the world exactly what you were. There was no hiding your true identity with an alpha’s scarred mark on your neck. 

Suguru had never seen you through a heat– no one had. You’d taken your suppressants daily, ever since you met him and even long before that. He’d claimed you on a day like any other, no heat necessary. He hadn’t had a rut in all these years, either. When he felt one coming on all he had to do was pop a single pill and all was well– apparently with none of the nasty side effects that came along with your suppressants. Another unfair privilege of being an alpha you supposed. 

“Sugu, I can’t do this.” Your lip is raw from how much you’ve been chewing on it by the time you reach home. 

Suguru softly shuts the door behind you, lifting your twined hands to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles. 

“Yes you can. I know you can.” 

You shake your head. He doesn’t understand– doesn’t know what this will do to you, how it will break you. While you hadn’t had a heat in years, you had experienced them before. You loathed them more than anything, loathed the way your mind was a slave to your body and not the other way around, loathed the way your whole body pulsed and throbbed, loathed the way it made you feel so… weak. “I can’t. It’s-it’s-” Your hands come up to cover your face. You sigh and feel the blush crawling beneath your cheeks. “It’s embarrassing. Humiliating.” 

There’s silence for a moment, and then a soft sight. Suguru pries your hands from your face gently. When you meet his eyes, he’s all business.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, baby.” 

You shake your head and pull away, pacing. “I don’t want anyone to see me like that, Sugu. Not even you.” 

Strong hands catch your waist, holding you still. “It’s not a question. It’s happening– for the sake of your health.” 

You scoff and shake your head. “It’s not–” 

His thumb presses to your lips with just enough pressure to demand silence. The omega in you coos to listen, to submit– the other part of you reels with annoyance.

“End of discussion.” 

He’s closer now and you can feel waves of his breath skating across your skin. It’s like a drug, one that the primal side of you can never get enough of. Give in, give in, give in, your omega begs. Listen to your alpha… You try not to focus on the fact that he smells good enough to eat. You know what he’s doing– using his dynamic to persuade you, to make you see his way, playing to the omega you can usually hide so carefully.

“Sugu…” you say. You intend to be angry but you trail off when his eyes catch yours. 

“I got you, baby.”

Your heart melts at the words. He waits. Maybe he knows that the smell of his skin on yours is playing tricks on your mind. You wage a battle within. Every instinct urges you to agree and with every passing second it becomes harder to disagree. Perhaps he’s right, perhaps it's time you give in for once. Let him take care of you, your omega purrs. You’re nodding before you realize what you’ve done.

Suguru kisses you quickly, allowing no time for takebacks. When he pulls away he gets to work. He whips his phone from his pocket and you listen to him talking to his boss, your boss, saying that you’ll both be out of work for a week on “family” leave. Your face heats when you realize that your boss now knows exactly what you two are going to be doing for the foreseeable future. Suguru kisses you one last time before he’s out the door, off to get enough food and supplies to last a week. You won’t be leaving your apartment for some time. You don't fail to notice that he doesn’t return your phone before he’s gone.

~

You don’t notice a difference, even after the sun is gone. It’s not surprising, considering you usually take your suppressants at night– it’ll take a little while longer for them to fully exit your system… you hope. When you’re brushing your teeth you stare at the empty prescription bottle longingly. 

You join Suguru in bed. The moment you crawl onto the mattress he pulls you closer into his bare chest. You savor the way your bodies fit so perfectly- like he was meant for you and you alone. His front curls around your back, a leg slotted between your thighs. 

“Feel anything?” he asks. 

You shake your head to hide your swallow. You almost shiver when Suguru buries himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. You feel him harden against your backside. He must be able to smell your approaching heat even before you can. Part of you expects instinct to take hold of him, for him to make a move, but he only presses a kiss to your jaw and holds you tighter. 

“Sleep, baby.” 

For once, you follow orders without a fight.

–

Hot. Too hot. 

When your eyes flutter open, you feel the pounding of your heart, the labor of your breath, and the growing ache between your legs. 

You sit up so fast you see stars, panic flooding your veins. No, no, no, no, no. This was wrong, you’d made the wrong choice. You couldn’t do this. Already, you could feel control slipping from your grasp, your consciousness giving way to something more primal, more feral. You scramble, preparing to stand, to find your phone, to lock yourself away and suffer through this on your own.

“Deep breaths, baby.” 

Only then do you realize Suguru is already awake. He’s behind you, hands on your shoulders, both a comfort and a restraint. 

“Can’t-” Your breaths are ragged and so are your words. “Can’t do this, Sugu-” 

“Yes, you can.” He whispers. He pulls you closer, tighter against him. “You will.” 

You shake your head frantically, tears pooling on your lashes. When you turn, Suguru is staring at your neck, at the mate mark on your throbbing pulse. His jaw is clenched when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He’s restraining himself, you realize. A glance down reveals he’s already painfully hard in his pants. You wonder how long he’s been sitting there, taking in your scent, waiting for you to wake. No doubt his rut has already been triggered.

His eyes raise to yours and he pauses at the tears that leak down your cheeks. He leans closer, and the scent emanating from his neck makes you groan against your will. His kisses away the tears. Slowly, one at a time. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.” 

Your body pulls him closer, even as your mind pushes back. “My phone, Sugu,” you panic. “Gotta gimme my phone. C-call a new doctor.” 

He shakes his head and when you start to squirm he only holds you tighter, holds you in place. 

“No, baby.” 

You whimper, seeking the scent gland on his neck against your will. The smell makes your clit throb almost painfully. 

“Sugu, please,” you cry. Tears stream from your eyes, staining your lover’s skin. 

“‘S gonna be okay. Just let it happen. Don’t fight it, love.” 

With each passing moment, you feel your fight slipping further and further away. Suguru rubs at the muscles in your back until you’re slumped against him, pitifully moaning like a wounded animal. It’s not long before your body takes the reins, until you start desperately humping at his thigh, your clit throbbing almost painfully. 

“That’s it. Good girl.” 

Your eyes roll back at the praise and when Suguru grips your waist you cry out at the touch. Everywhere his skin meets yours feels electric. You’re burning, burning, burning. It’s not until Suguru lays you down on your back that you see the sopping patch of slick you’ve left on his thigh. You whimper at the sight. 

“‘S okay, baby. ‘Ve got you.”

Suguru is looking nearly as lost to the lust as you are. Only his willpower and intent keep him from shredding away your panties and breeding your cunt full that very second. He’s never been in the presence of a scent so intoxicating. He’s never been with you, or any omega, through a heat. He thought you smelled amazing before, but now… He is lost to you, lost to the heat he feels emanating from every inch of your skin, to the honeyed scent pouring from your neck, to the slick he sees staining through your panties. His dick twitches in his pants. 

“Love you so much, baby. Gonna take such good care of ya,” he whispers. Instinct drives him forward until he’s plastered his lips to your jaw, licking and biting at the skin. You nearly scream at the sensation. You feel his touch everywhere, all at once. With your last coherent thoughts you know that this heat will be unlike any other you’ve ever experienced. It’s already so intense you can hardly think, and you’ve only just begun.

“Sugu,” you plead. 

The sound of his name on your lips breaks him. His hand dips across your stomach, thumbing past the edge of your panties until he’s running his finger through your slit, gathering your slick and rubbing it against your clit. 

You scream and thrash, so sensitive it nearly hurts, but he only moves to pin you beneath him, forcing you to take everything he gives. 

“Gonna make you feel ‘s good, baby.” he hums. He’s lost to you, to your desires, to your needs. Every piece of him screams to please you, to take care of you, in every way possible.

He continues his messy circles on your clit and until you’re gasping, hole clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. 

“S-Sugu…” you whine.

The growl that rips from his throat has you arching your back and bearing your throat in an act of submission. You hear a tear and watch your panties hit the floor. Your shirt follows and then you’re completely bare beneath your alpha. His eyes go black at the sight, pupils blown so wide you can hardly see a smidgen of their usual brown. There’s a deep rumble in his chest that has you keening and reaching for him, needing him. He doesn’t waste time. His tongue finds your neck, laving sloppily at your scent gland and the sensation is so delicious that you writhe beneath him. 

His fingers slide down your stomach, dipping between your thighs and rubbing at your clit. The touch is somehow gentle despite the complete and total hunger in his eyes, but it has you whining nonetheless. Every place he touches you, which is nearly everywhere, stings so delightfully that your eyes are already rolling back.

But you can’t wait. You can’t. Your body is starved, rabid, and you know what you need.

“Ssssugu… please…” your words are hardly above a whisper, barely a breath, but your alpha still hears you, still knows what you want, what you need. 

“I got you, baby… shhhhh…” He gives a final lick to your scent gland before he’s leaning back on his knees, parting your thighs wide, exposing your leaking cunt. You can feel a puddle of slick beneath your ass, your hole clenching desperately around nothing, aching to be filled. 

Warm hands slide up your skin and settle on your hips, tugging you a little further down the bed. You whimper, but don’t have time to say anything before you feel him slipping through your folds. A glance down reveals his weeping tip, achingly flushed, bumping and rubbing against your clit. When did his pants come off? You don’t know, you don’t care, all that matters is that the sight steals your breath away. 

“Gonna knot you good, princess.” 

You nod, wanting nothing more than for him to make good on his promise. You claw and grip at his arms, chanting his name endlessly. His chest rumbles again and your thighs part further on instinct. Finally, he gives you what you want. You feel him pressing in, fat tip stretching you wide. One of his hands moves to press down on your tummy and the combination has tears pooling in your eyes. 

He slides in slowly. With every inch you think he must be done, that you can’t take any more. But you can, and you do. When he’s finally fully in your jaw is hanging open in ecstasy and your eyes are rolled back in your skull. His fingers brush your clit and your hips jerk. 

“That’s it. So good, baby. So fucking good.” 

Your tears flood over, racing down your cheeks. He’s over you again, loose strands of black hair brushing your skin and forcing a whimper from your throat. He licks away your tears, lapping at your cheeks like you’re a fucking lollipop. His hips start thrusting in time with his licks, and it’s more than you can handle. Your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re begging. Pleading, whining, screaming for more. He gives it to you. One hand finds yours, twining your fingers together as he pounds into you so hard he’s rattling your skull. He’s licking at your scent gland again, driving you further and further toward a cliff you’re afraid to fall from. You think this orgasm might shatter you, might break you so thoroughly you’ll never be put back together again. You can feel it tightening at your core with each thrust, each lick, each kiss. 

“Fuck,” you hear him growl and whimper at the sound of his voice so close to your ear. “‘M gonna bite you, princess. Gonna mark you up and knot you so good you’ll see fucking stars.” You pant beneath him, unable to word how excited you are by his words, how deliciously they roll across your skin and seep into your spine. “Tell me you didn’t take your pill, baby. Tell me I can breed this pussy full and it won’t go to waste.” He’s not talking about your suppressants you know, but rather the contraceptives you take in tandem with them. Of course you took it, but suddenly something makes you wish you hadn't. “‘M gonna flush ‘em down the fucking toilet. Never letting you take that shit again.”

The primal part of you surges forward at the idea. It chants deep in your mind. Yes, yes, yes…

“Suguuu… please…” It seems like those are the only words your tongue can form.

His lips press to yours, shushing you. “Shhh, baby. Don’ worry. I got you.” He licks across your cheek and down across your jaw until he finds your scent gland again. His thrusts pick up again and you think you might pass out from how good you feel, from how tight your muscles are coiling. You can feel his knot pulsing inside you, preparing to fill you to the brim. You’ve never felt more ready for anything. 

“Sugu–” 

And it’s at that moment that he makes good on his promise. His teeth sink into your neck and you feel your bond snap taut like a string, pulsing with the closeness of your connection. It’s pure ecstasy. Suguru’s knot swells, notching tightly inside you and when you feel his cum pulsing into your womb it’s all too much. You think you must be screaming from the pleasure but you only hear the ringing in your ears as your orgasm washes over you. Your muscles clench, your toes curl, your back arches, you see those stars Suguru promised. Heat tingles through your limbs and down your spine and you think you’ve probably just melted into the mattress. But you haven’t, and when your vision returns, you’re panting and staring at the ceiling. 

Suguru is above you and you can feel him still cumming, still releasing rope after rope of thick, hot cum into you. The sensation makes you groan and he laps at your neck, cleaning up the blood from the new mark he’s just given you. Your consciousness trickles back in, the primal piece of you partially sated for the time being. You remember the context of your situation, why you’re here and not at work, what you’re doing. You’re puzzled by why you’d been so panicked by the idea of a heat before. How could you have been so reluctant, so scared, when nothing has ever felt this right?

Suguru is peppering you with kisses now, pulling you tight to his chest and rolling you both onto your sides where you’ll stay until his knot softens. 

“Sleep, princess,” he says and he uses that tone that always compels you to listen, to please. You happily do as he says and when your eyes drift shut it’s not long before you’re lost to a world of comfortable darkness. 

~

You wake to the throbbing again. All of the pent up need Suguru had sated has returned with a vengeance. You need him again, but it appears he already knows that. 

You feel him between your legs, his hair fully loose now and tickling the insides of your thighs. He’s eating you out, slurping up the cum that’s leaking down your thighs and spitting it back onto your cunt. It’s filthy, disgusting, and you love it.

“Sugu–” you gasp and your hips buck. His eyes lock with yours and the smile he gives you nearly makes you come on the spot. He holds your gaze as he licks one last long stripe over your folds. You whimper and clench around nothing. Empty, empty, empty…

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers against your skin. He’s kissing his way up your body now, leaving little circles of spit that cool when they touch the air and make you shiver. “‘Y smelled so good…” 

You whine and whimper, clawing at his back and leaving scratches you think might draw blood. You’re too worried about getting him inside of you to check.

You’re gasping like you’ve never had a breath of air in your life, like you’ve drowned and every touch he gives you fills your lungs with much-needed oxygen. His hands rub gently at your waist, but it’s not enough. You want him to wreck you, ruin you. You say as much. 

“M-more…” you beg and when he hums against your neck you squirm desperately. Warm hands dig into your flesh and suddenly you find yourself flipped onto your stomach. You feel Suguru behind you, pushing your thighs apart with his knees. His hands find your hips again and lift, propping you up with your face still pressed to the pillows. When you whimper he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine. 

“‘S okay, baby. Relax. Lemme take care ‘ve you.” 

Yes, yes, yes, you think. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you still when he feeds his dick into you, one inch at a time. You cry out, tearing at the sheets and begging for more, even when you already feel like you’re splitting in half. When he’s finally seated inside you he drapes himself over your back, brushing your hair over one shoulder to expose your neck. He leans in to lick you again, thrusting sharply the moment his tongue brushes your skin. You wail, pressing your face to the sheets and attempting to rock yourself back against him. One of his hands smooths over the flesh of your ass as he sets a pace, one that makes you bite down on a pillow to muffle your screams. 

“No.” Suguru uses that tone that makes you listen, that one that calls instinctively to the omega inside you, that urges you to please. He reaches for your pillow, tossing it aside and letting his hand curl around your throat as he continues to fuck you, letting his fingers feel the vibrations of every noise you make. “Let me hear you, baby. Always let me hear you.” 

You nod, eager to make him happy, eager to do as he says. You don’t dare restrain a single sound, eyes rolling back. The angle he has you at has your thighs trembling. He’s so deep, so close. You feel his heartbeat against your back, feel his tongue on your skin, his hand on your throat, his cock at your cervix.

When he groans, you groan with him, feeling his dick pulse inside you, his knot beginning to swell. You need it, need it so bad you can hardly stand it. 

“P-please, please, please–”

He swells inside you, locking your bodies together as his orgasm hits. It’s all you need to find your own. You wail into the mattress, cunt clenching and legs trembling until you collapse, flattening against the beg. Suguru follows you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering in your ear.

“Take it all, baby. Good girl. Take it all…” 

You nod, not even sure what you’re agreeing to. All you can feel is his cum flooding your insides, pulsing and pumping so deep into you that you swear your tummy is swelling with the sheer amount of it. Still, your body wants more, clenching and milking him for every last drop, just like he asked.

When you both come down from your orgasms he pulls you into his chest once again, whispering promises of protection and love that lull you into a trance-like state of happiness. When you fall asleep again, he’s chanting a word that your omega repeats right back to him. “Mine, mine, mine.”

When you wake again it’s to the sound of Geto staying true to his word and flushing every last birth control pill you have straight down the toilet. Your omega surges at the idea, but one mewl from you and he’s back in your arms, like you’re somehow the one in charge, not him. With every passing moment, you being to think that might be true- that perhaps a heat does not makes you as weak as you thought. Your alpha submits as much to you as you submit to him.

The week is spent in a frenzy. You do not measure by the numbers on the clock or where the sun is in the sky, rather you know time only as how long it’s been since Suguru’s been locked inside you. If it were up to you, you’d never stop, but Geto forces you to sleep, to eat, to bathe. Of course, he’s never far away when you’re following his instructions and you usually get a kiss and his knot as a reward for being such a good girl. 

It’s ten days later when your heat finally starts to wane. It feels as though every inch of you is covered in him. Bites, hickies, kisses, cum… no part of you has been left untouched. Suguru has had you everywhere. The bed, the shower, the bath, the kitchen. Every surface in the whole apartment reeks of sex and slick. He never keeps you too far from the bedroom, though, where you’ve piled up mountains of his shirts and sheets. Anything that smells like him, anything that can keep you tethered in those brief moments when Suguru goes to fetch you food or water or run you a bath. He takes care of you, just like he promised. 

When you wake completely clear-headed for the first time in well over a week, it’s to Suguru’s arms and lips. He’s got you all wrapped up in him, his arms locked around your waist almost like he expects you to bolt. You almost do when everything comes flooding back to you, this time with a completely clear conscience. But then he kisses your neck and whispers a delightful little, “welcome back, baby” against your neck and suddenly you’re realizing how… revitalized you feel, like a part of you has finally been properly satisfied after years of waiting. You’d always hated this, always hated the part of you that begged and cowered, hated heats- but maybe with Suguru… they really weren’t all that bad.

taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina

link: alpha!gojo fic

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[fushiguho]

You Have a New Match ☆ Toji Fushiguro

☆ SYNOPSIS After several, agonizing weeks of your relentless torment, Toji has finally had it with your teasing antics. As ambiguous as dating apps can be, he wants to ensure that his intentions are very clear — he’s only here for one thing, to fuck. So why are you wasting his time? What are you, scared? ☆ WORD COUNT 6.6k (holy fuck) ☆ CONTENT WARNINGS Dilf!Toji, femme reader, rough-ish sex, kinda feral, strangers to lovers, Toji has a FILTHY mouth ☆ A/N okay guys so this is actually kind of insane and i do apologize for my absence to those who care LOL (boooo school and life.) but this was actually an anon request for dilf toji but i thought i’d take it in different direction?? this is honestly a personal best for me so i really hope whoever is reading this feels something :p also, thank u for 1k follows. means the world! :)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･

Toji swears, it’s always the same song and dance with you younger women, yet time and time again he’ll find himself  enwrapped in a meaningless dalliance. Currently, that’s you, and you’ve been driving him up a fucking wall. For weeks, you’ll sweet talk him, go on and on about how deep you can take it, how wet your pretty pussy gets just from texting him, even how nasty you’ll get for him when you see him, but it’s always when. That’s the very thing, you’re all talk.

They say patience is a virtue, yet his runs thinner than cheap thread. Toji has never been known for bullshit, and after becoming a father, that fact has never been truer. For most, bringing children into this godforsaken world serves as means for betterment — change, but Toji isn’t like most. Oh, and he’s tried to be respectful about it too, but how can you ever expect him to be a gentleman when you act like… that.

Ever since you matched on Tinder, it’s been several, agonizing months of slutty messages and lewd pictures. God, and what a filthy mouth you have, detailing all the sick ways you’d let him use you, how you’d take it all like a good, obedient slut, how you’d do anything he wants. Yet, when he video calls you in response, huffing your name as the monstrous length of his cock glides through his slick fingers, you realize that maybe you’re not as grown as you thought.

So, you pull away, ghosting him, leaving behind nothing but the silence of uncertainty — purgatory. Whenever you inevitably decide to message him again, whether it be days or weeks later, it’s the same bullshit excuse every time, and quite frankly, Toji has had it. Of course you read his profile when you matched. He made his intentions very clear — that he’s only here for one thing, so why are you wasting his time? What are you, scared?

Toji F.

05:39 PM You scared? Is that it? 05:42 PM Scared of what this cock will do to you? What it could turn you into? Is that why you keep disappearing on me? 05:42 PM You’re breaking my heart here, girl.

Read at 5:43 PM

The audacity. Taken aback is an understatement, yet his message makes your stomach sink in arousal. You can hardly help the dramatic roll of your eyes, an incredulous scoff following as you stuff your phone back into the pocket of your jeans. As you trudge toward your last class of the day, his messages linger on your mind, igniting a flame of refutation that begs to be doused, because you? Scared? Please.

Boredom is a strange thing. It tends to bring out the worst, turning people into versions of themselves they weren’t sure could ever exist within the same universe — versions of themselves that defy the being they’ve worked tirelessly to become. But when there’s nothing left to do, nowhere else to turn, and everything else has been exhausted, we result to desperation; desperate times call for desperate measures.

Tinder.

If university has taught you anything, it’s that men don’t mature overnight… or ever. Even being four, entire years into your overpriced degree, it’s evident that maturity doesn’t exist within the minds of frat hopping, beer chugging, striped polo wearing college boys. You crave more. You crave experience and wisdom, but at the end of the day, you’re still just bored and in desperate need of something that’ll abide your time in university — Toji Fushiguro.

So really, is there truly anything wrong with downloading a dating app with the sole intention of fucking? Is it so wrong to toggle your age preference a little too high? Your preferred mile radius a little too far? You’re not sure, not really. All you know is that there is a point to be proven and a void to be filled, and maybe Toji isn’t the answer you should be seeking, but he damn sure is the easiest and most willing recourse.

That’s the exact reason you’re finally messaging him back, inviting him over to your apartment to chill. It’s nearly embarrassing how fast he responds. An obscure, upside down, smiling emoji at the end of his text masks his ever-growing anticipation with cordiality, though it’s a stark contrast to the way he’ll have you pried apart later on, fucking you rudely with the sole intention gutting you out completely, but you’ll find out soon enough. Curiosity kills cats anyways.

As the day grows on, your excitement grows beyond you. The rapid tap of your anxious feet strike against the tiled floor of the lecture hall, reverberating throughout the frigid, drab room. An exasperated sigh drags from your pouting lips, chin resting within the palm of your hand. Back and forth your eyes flit from the digital clock abut the wall to your monotone professor who paces through the aisles, blathering on about environmental law.

You can hardly help the way you’re beginning to eagerly gather your belongings, slinging your backpack over one shoulder before discretely slipping out of the room, scurrying home with a girlish grin long before class is said and done. Immediately, you’re fishing for your phone, informing Toji that you’re finally free and again, his response is embarrassingly quick. He’s on his way.

It feels like an eternity and you’re impatient. Your stomach lurches in excitement as you sit cross legged on the couch. The large television before you hums monotonously, a show you’ve never cared for flitting across the crystal display, but then, there’s a knock — three, hard, heavy-handed knocks. Your feet are moving faster than your brain can register, nearly tripping over your own feet on your way to the door. As you’re reaching for the knob, it feels like you can’t breathe — like you forgot how to breathe, but that doesn’t stop the hand that’s slowly creaking the heavy, wooden door open just enough to peek your head out and then up, up, up.

“Oh.” You breathe, huffing a breath you weren’t aware you held, your curious gaze shamelessly devouring the burly, heavy-set figure that fills your doorway. “Hi, Toji.” The door creeps wider as you step aside, granting him access into your home.

“Hi, pretty.” His gruff, baritone voice reverberates throughout your entire being, sending a cruel, unintentional rush of heat between your clamped thighs. A mischievous smile pries his scarred lips open, his sharp, sable eyes curiously falling to the cleavage that spills from your low-cut top.

Toji straggles behind as you pad through the archway leading to your small kitchen. He slips out of his shoes, wordlessly admiring your girlishly ornamented apartment, cock nearly throbbing from the overwhelming scent of you — so cloying and honeyed and edible. God, he’d only be lying if he said he hasn’t imagine what you’d taste like, fucking his fist like feral caveman to the pretty pictures on your Tinder profile.

“Uh, you hungry?” You observe your barren fridge, lips twisting in thought. “I have leftovers from last night.” You peer over your shoulder, watching as he observes your carefully thought out space.

He shakes his head in response, a slow, crooked smirk playing his slick lips. Slowly, he’s leaning back, legs crossing idly in front of him as his large hands reach backwards to prop himself against the cold, marble island that sits in the middle of the kitchen. He eyes you silently, watching intently as you stumble throughout your kitchen, fixing him a complimentary glass of iced water. You can hardly meet his intense gaze as you present him with the tall, overfilled glass, far too nervous to truly observe the way he practically devours you with his prey-like stare.

“What?” You finally croak, a nervous laugh tumbling past your lips. You’re stepping away to crane your head back, reluctantly registering the overwhelming sight before you.

Toji shrugs wordlessly before taking a long, ponderous sip from his condensating glass. He swallows thickly, adam’s apple bobbing before humming melodically, pondering in thought. His seemingly cruel gaze never leaves yours, even as you’re slowly backing away to lean against the opposing counter, subconsciously mirroring his stance as you prop yourself on the palms of your hands.

“You nervous or somethin’?” Toji smiles wide, cocking his head to the right. An intense set of dark eyes pierce yours, reading directly through your timid expression. Contrary to your fidgeting fingers, you shake your head in refutation as you peer down at your feet in a desperate attempt to avoid his relentless gaze.

Liar.

“No? Why are you so far then?” He observes, taking another sip from his dwindling glass before setting it against the marble. You hardly notice the way he shuffles closer, slyly inching toward your side of the kitchen. “After all that shit you talked, I was sure you’d be all over me… what changed, pretty?” Now, he stands hair's breadth away, looking down on you as if you’re prey to be devoured.

“Nothing.” You mutter, still averting your gaze. It’s hardly a whisper.

The slow, subconscious clamp of your thighs as you fruitlessly attempt to dull the throb of your poor, aching pussy doesn’t go unnoticed. In fact, a burly knee is subtly creeping between your legs, deliberately forcing them back apart. There’s nowhere to run — nowhere to cower and writhe in fear or embarrassment; he’s got you exactly where he wants you.

You’re completely caged in, stretching to the tips of your toes in escape, but oh, sweet gravity — it’s pulling you down, down, down, driving your clothed cunt against the stiff muscles of his thigh. You gasp, hardly able to chase the breaths that tumble past your lips. Still, you can’t bear the thought of facing him, not after all that shit you talked, not even as you grind yourself against his thigh.

Toji pouts feignedly. “C’monnn, you won’t even look at me?” A large hand is cupping your chin, gingerly forcing your gaze onto his. “This can’t be the same girl who promised she’d let me slut her out… right?” His warm breath fans your parted lips, a fat thumb blindly grazing the lower half of your face. “No, you can’t possibly be the same girl who sent me a video of her noisy, little pussy cryin’ fa’me either… right?”

You’ve never felt so… small. The way your stomach sinks in arousal nearly forces a helpless whine past your lips. It almost feels like you’re in trouble, like you’ve done something horribly wrong and now, you await your inescapable punishment, yet your core aches at the very thought — it burns with an inextinguishable desire to be filled, to be punished.

As a father, Toji can’t help but to default back to his intrinsic lust for control, to assume authority. So really, can you blame him when he’s wordlessly pulling you up the counter you lean against? Two, strong hands finding purchase on your hips, yanking you closer to the edge of the frigid marble. He definitely doesn’t miss the way your legs practically fall open for him, naturally spreading to accommodate the girth of his hips as he creeps closer.

A slow and beautifully sinful grin is marring his face. “Are you a woman of your word?” It’s a low, gravelly hum, one that has you nodding desperately, lips parting sweetly. His head cocks to the right in query. “Yeah? So you’re gonna let me slut that pretty pussy out like you promised, hm?” A singular hand pushing your thighs further apart so that he can insert himself between them to which you audibly moan, nodding once again.

“I am a woman of my word,” you breathe, falling back to catch yourself on your hands as a newfound sense of confidence brews within you, “I meant it, you can have me however you want… please.”

“Do you even know what you’re asking for?” He subtly warns, slipping a large, intentional hand between your searing bodies. “Can you handle that?” Several, warm fingers are trailing against the fabric that hugs your cunt, eliciting a beautiful string of wanton moans from your pretty, parted lips — moans that make his cock twitch to life, eager to ruin you.

“Mhmmm, yes… yes,” you’re nodding, gasping out for more, head rolling deliriously from side to side as his fingers press firmly against your clothed cunt, “I can take anything, I swear! I’ll be s-so good.”

The subconscious roll of your body against the stocky hand that cups your pussy is pathetic; it’s dragging endless hums of pleasure and little gasps of air from your stupidly gaped mouth. You’re insatiable as you buck your hips, desperate to get more out of his teasing fingers, yet still, it isn’t enough. So truly, can Toji blame you for the way you’re beaming forward to catch his lips in a sloppy, haphazard kiss?

No, he can’t, because the way he kisses you back is nothing short of animalistic. It’s the way your teeth nearly clash; the way his fingers are threading through the hair at the back of your head, tugging you back to hold you still, kissing you exactly how he wants; even the way he’s huffing out hot, raptured breaths against your lips as if he can’t breathe, as if you’re the last, fleeting breath of air, nursing him back to life.

Your hands are everywhere. They’re wrapping around his slutty waist, pulling him closer; creeping up the hem of his shirt, into the waistband of his sweatpants, and over the unmistakable bulge of his warm cock again, and again, and again. It throbs against the palm of your hand, wordlessly begging to be heard, to be seen, to be touched.

“Take it out.” He breathes, stepping away just far enough for you to untie the drawstring. In a fruitless attempt to hide your grin of excitement, you bite your lip, wholeheartedly obliging as you fiddle to undo the tightly knotted bow that hides his most sacred possession. “Yeaaaah, take that cock out, sweetheart. Look at you… you’re excited for it, huh?”  He laughs at your fervid eagerness — a sharp gust of air through his nose.

As you’re tugging down both waistbands, a deep, guttural groan of relief is belting from the depths of his chest; he inhales a sharp breath through gritted teeth. His cock springs free, bouncing to kiss his lower abdomen in a smeared mess of arousal. Your mouth gapes as rivulets of precum spill down the length of his cock, lewdly pooling near his fat, swollen balls.

God, it’s pretty. It stands so proud and tall, longing to be seen — to be known. It literally weeps tears of desperation, begging for something, anything. How long has it been? Is he just as deprived? Your head burns with questions that yearn to be answered, but you’re determined.

Out of intrinsic instinct, you’re wrapping a hand around the base of his cock as if it’d explode if not dealt with immediately. Never in your life have you held something so… heavy. It’s warm and dense and wet. God, why is he so wet? Why is his precum slobbering down your fingers as you begin to pump him in your hand? Why does such a cruel, deafening schlop! ring out each time you drag your fist toward the leaking head? Why is it making you wet?

As if he can read your mind, Toji coos. “You like it, huh?” He’s amused, a smug grin plaguing his face. “You hungry, pretty? You wanna taste it?” Even the subtle lilt of enthusiasm that soothes his teasing tone makes your mouth sag in a whimper so you nod, of course. “You’ll just say yes to anything, won’t you?”

Duh.

Again, you nod dumbly before eagerly slipping off of the counter and falling to your knees with a thud! Like the good girl you promised you are, you’re lolling out your tongue to drool onto the tip of his cock without hesitation. A longgg, throaty moan drags from Toji’s gaped mouth when you gently tap the drooling head against the plush center of your tongue.

“Fuuuck yes, sweetheart. I knew just from your pictures that you’d be a nasty girl,” his hips are intentionally bucking toward your face, rudely forcing his cock deeper, “and you’re so obedient too… fell to your knees for my cock and you hardly know me.”

A cruel, wet gurgle spills from your mouth as you attempt to swallow around him. He fills your mouth perfectly, like the missing piece to a forgotten puzzle. You wail a muffled, helpless whine, jaw aching from the sheer weight of his cock as it rests against your eager tongue. His swollen balls throb painfully as he tucks himself deeper, forcing a proper gag from pretty lips.

The short, sable tufts of hair that adorn the thick base of his cock tickle your chin. A large hand holds your head taut, keeping you close as he presses the swollen fat of his balls against your trembling bottom lip. Your eyes well with tears as you gag again, throat tightening around the head of his cock when it prods your uvula. The achey, protruding vein that runs along the underside of his shaft throbs against your tongue as you gasp for air.

“Thaaaaat’s it. Hah — oh my god, are you drooling?” Two, deft fingers are swiping along your chin, collecting the saliva that dribbles down your face. “You are so fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth… you gonna let me fuck it just a little?” The crooked smile that mars his face is sick, but it makes your stomach cave in arousal.

Toji doesn’t wait for a response as he’s reeling his hips back, two heavy hands steady on the back of your head, holding you in place. You gasp for a desperate breath before he pummels forward, tucking himself as deep as possible. He’s slow to pull out of your mouth, his thick cock leisurely grazing along every inch of your tongue. A timbre, wanton groan of pleasure drags from his slacked jaw.

“Suuuch a p— perfect throat for cock, holy fuck,” his hips are drawing back again, cock throbbing painfully when you cease the opportunity to gasp for air, “breeeathe, sweetheart… don’t you die on me. I’m not done with you yet, c’mere.” He’s abruptly yanking you to your feet, surely taking notice of the way your knees buckle beneath you.

He’s taking you by the wrist, leading you throughout your apartment as if it’s his own — as if he’s been here before. You follow him like a lost puppy, biting your inner cheek in anticipation as you trail behind him, warm arousal pooling between your thighs. It doesn’t take long for him to find your comfortable, eclectically garnished bedroom.

A large, curious hand is creaking the ajar door wider. He simpers to himself, inhaling the sweet, gourmand scent of everything you. Toji scoffs in what you can only hope astonishment as he peaks his head inside of the warm, dimly lit room. You follow his equivocal gaze, reimagining your sacred space from his fresh, much elder perspective.

“I wish my son would keep his room this neat,” he laughs and you follow him inside, watching as he curiously prowls your girlish room, "couldn't even pay him to wash his shit-stained boxers." A unique collection of trinkets entraps his gaze.

Son?

"Oh," you're taking a seat at the foot of your bed, wordlessly observing the grown, burly man that paces your carpeted room of light pink hues — a man who has to squat to even hear your sweet voice as you speak, "what's his name?"

Annoyed, Toji shakes his head, sucking his teeth. "Doesn't matter," he stalks closer, a subtle gleam of lust dancing across his gradually darkening irises, “I just wanna see how wet that pussy got from tasting my cock… you gonna show me, pretty?” The devilish, scarred smirk that pries his mouth open makes your sobbing pussy throb.

He kneels onto the edge of the mattress and you scoot further onto the bed; the soft, baby pink sheets ruffling as you eagerly peel your lounge shorts down your legs, kicking them to the floor. As you lie on your back, you rest on your forearms, bent legs falling open so sluttily for a man you hardly know. A dark, ever-growing patch of arousal soils your pretty, laced panties. The dim, twinkling lights that hang over your bed reveal such an embarrassingly wet mess — the sheer, drooling material that clings to your swollen lips for dear life, begging to be touched.

“Oh, fuck,” he audibly gasps, inching closer to the palpable heat that radiates between your legs, “yeeeeeah, show me that sloppy, little pussy, baby… holy fuck.” You can hear the sheer degree of arousal in his tone — the way he can’t help but to moan out his words; so overcome by his innate need to fuck that it exudes in the way he pronounces his vowels and consonants.

And then, he’s speechless, utterly enthralled by the several, glistening gossamers of arousal that stretch and snap erotically as you pull the damp fabric down your thighs. You’re obediently sprawled apart for him, pretty, slobbering cunt spread so sinfully for a mere stranger. His cock aches at the sight, jerking lewdly in tandem with the visible tightening of your leaking hole.

Three, longgg digits are dragging up the expanse of your cunt, collecting your prolific arousal. He’s smearing it between your swollen lips, across your quivering clit, then deep inside of your greedy pussy. Over and over and over again, his burly knuckles disappear into your endless slick, the pads of his fingers dragging so sinfully along your tensing walls.

“Such a pretty pussy… oh my god, listen to her,” his hoarse groan is so plainly conquered by his lust, he nearly moans as his jaw hangs in astonishment, sable brows furrowing deeply, “listen to how wet she is. Such a noisy girl, huh?”

And oh god, do you listen. A cruel, deafening squelch! cries from between your plush thighs each time his fingers disappear into your cunt. A familiar, palpable heat is creeping up your neck, spilling across your flustered face in a deep, crimson hue. Embarrassed by your bountiful arousal, your legs are flying shut, halting the hand that teases you. Almost immediately, Toji is wordlessly prying your thighs apart, pinning them to the sheets with a disapproving grunt.

Toji doesn’t miss the slack of your jaw or the sweet, little whimpers that fall so shamelessly from your raptured tongue. He can hardly help the way he’s subconsciously mimicking your expressions — his lips parting in tandem with yours, thick brows furrowing subtly, just as yours do, he’s even cooing in response to your pathetic whines and gasps of ever-growing pleasure.

Like a flower growing toward the warmth of the sun, you’re coiling into his touch, back arching up and off of the unkempt sheets. Your head deliriously falls back to press against the pillow. The repetitive batter of his thick, beckoning fingers is the only thing you can hear, feel, think. Your hips buck so nastily against the hand that paws at you, pretty little sighs and hums of pleasure dragging from your stupidly gaped mouth.

“I just know you wanna fuck, look at your back arch for my cock like that… such a hungry girl,” a big hand is creeping beneath the small of your back, helping you maintain that beautiful, fleeting arch and he inches closer, eyes narrowing so that he can read directly through your greedy expression, “yeah, look at that pretty face… you wanna fuck, huh?”

You can hardly nod before he’s whorishly pulling his cock out, a hiss of relief escaping his gritted teeth. Pearlescent beads of precum drool from the head as he stalks closer, a lazy, idle fist pumping his length. A singular hand is prying you open, burly fingers digging into the plush, underside of your thigh, rudely spreading you apart, and then, cries a lewd, deafening plap!

Not once, twice, but three fucking times, Toji spits into your quivering cunt; three, fat globs of saliva pool into one, sinful puddle, erotically dribbling down the expanse of your swollen lips, toward your endlessly drooling hole, then it creeps even lower, spilling between the slit of your ass, kissing the puckering hole that sits just below.

“Touch her,” he breathes, a hand reaches for yours, pulling it over the mess of slick that coats your pussy, “fuck my spit into your cunt so I can make you feel good, baby. Get her ready for me, c’mon,” he watches with a low, hooded eyes as you collect the mound of saliva on your clit, swirling the pads of your fingers around it before sinking them inside with a pretty gasp, “yeaaahhh, that’s a good girl, spread that slutty pussy open for me.”

As you spread yourself apart with your fingers, Toji is prodding his fat, mushroom head against your clit and it’s dragging the sweetest cries from your parted lips. He’s moving your fingers out of the way with his cock, smearing the precum that weeps endlessly, hips bucking ever so slightly to fuck against the slick that laminates your pretty pussy.

The pad of his thumb is guiding the head of his cock inside of you, a synchronous, drawn out moan echoing from your gaped mouths as he sinks deeper and deeper and deeper. The gradual widening of your eyes is drawing a dark, breathy chuckle from the pit of his sternum. You’re fighting the gnawing urge to run, to wriggle out of his grip and cower in fear, but you can’t fucking move.

“Oh, fuck, fuck… oh my god.” You feel helpless as you whimper, wanting so desperately to clamp your thighs shut, but Toji has you pressed apart on the sheets.

A longgg, slutty groan is falling from his slacked jaw as he reels his hips back, pupils dilating when he catches sight of the warm, glistening arousal that sheathes his cock. Never in his life has he felt something so… wet. Your syrupy, drooling lips stretch so wide for him, effortlessly swallowing each and everyone one of his languid, torturous thrusts.

Toji is so large, it nearly feels like there’s two of him. You feel him everywhere — he is everywhere. His fat, drooling cock is splitting you open while his calloused palms are pawing anywhere they can reach; they’re creeping up your pretty waist, pushing your shirt up, taking it off. His lips are parting, an unintentional gasp ensuing when your tits are spilling out for him.

Another big hand is reaching for your face, cupping your jaw as a warm, curious thumb grazes your bottom lip. Instinctively, your lips are parting, wordlessly inviting him into your sweet mouth. Obeying your silent needs, the salty digit is pushing past your parted lips to pry your jaw open. He can’t help the throaty moan that bellows from his lungs as you swallow around his finger, sucking so whorishly as your eyes threaten to cross.

He’s so entranced by the warmth of your mouth that he can’t help but to replace his thumb with his two middle fingers. The long, burly digits creep farther and farther down the length of your tongue, forcing a loud, helpless gag from your swollen lips. Your delirious eyes are welling with tears, brows furrowing deeply when your pussy throbs in response. A slow, devilish grin is marring his handsome face.

“Oh?” He gasps in near astonishment, taking notice of the undeniable pulse of your cunt. “You like my fingers in your mouth, don’t you?”

You nod, drool spilling from the corners of your lips. Never in your life have you been so aroused. It’s almost too much to bear, you can hardly think anymore. All you feel is him — his big hands that control you, his fingers that rest against your tongue, the heat his body radiates, even the repetitive strike of his full balls against the fat of your ass has you babbling nonsense.

Every deep, elongated thrust is pulling the nastiest sounds out of you, even the overwhelming pressure of the heavy thumb that’s pressed to your clit has you mewling in rapture. Your pretty pussy leaks like a broken faucet that begs to be mended — so sloppy and needy, poor legs spread achingly wide as he sinks into your slutty little hole over and over and over again like a madman on the brink of utter insanity.

“Were you thinkin’ about me in class, hm?” He’s abruptly jerking you closer, pulling your legs on either side of his waist. You nod dumbly, mouth falling open for your sweet, broken whimpers to escape. “Yeah, sweet girl? Were you thinkin’ about me comin’ over and stretching this perfect pussy out like this, huh?” A guttural groan tumbling past his lips when your hips buck weakly to meet his heavy thrusts. “Oh my god, baby, come here… you want more?” He’s nearly growling as he yanks you impossibly closer.

Two, strong hands are gripping at the thick of your hips, selfishly pulling you onto his cock, impaling you. He deftly drills himself into your pussy like a weightless fleshlight whose only purpose is to take cock. All of his noisy, ragged breaths come out in short huffs each time he bottoms out, fucking the literal breath out of himself. His bruising grip holds you still, long fingers splayed across your waist and hips as he continues to stuff you with the entirety of his fat cock.

The hypnotic rebound of your chest is killing him; they sit so perfectly and he’s feral. He’s leaning down to audibly inhale your sweet, gourmand perfume as it permeates throughout the sweltering air. His handsome face is tucked between your pretty breasts, greedy tongue darting past his lips to lick along the expanse of your chest. You’re panting out hums of pleasure, breath hitching discernibly when he begins to sink his teeth into the supple flesh.

“F— fuuuuckkk,” you’re deliriously wailing in rapture, hips rolling in tandem with his furious thrusts, “so good, so gooood… your cock feels s’fucking good. Hah—oh my god, Toji.” You’re slurring over yourself, truly intoxicated from the punishing buck of his hips.

His cock throbs at your drunken words, balls swelling painfully when you grasp for his shirt to ground yourself. Both of your mouths sag open, brows furrowing identically as you pant in loud, harmonious breaths. The wet, gut-wrenching smack! of skin against skin that reverberates throughout your bedroom is deafening, nothing else can be heard.

Your hips buck wildly, desperately fucking him back as sweet cries of his name spill from your tongue. His gaze is steady and unwavering, observing as you reach for anything you can — his face, his bulging biceps, the fabric of his shirt; but it’s when you reach for the small of his back, driving him impossibly deeper each time he bottoms out that makes the vein running along the underside of his cock throb painfully, his leaking head bullying your cervix over and over and over again.

“God, you tryna make me cum, huh?” He’s slipping out of you to hastily pull you on top of him, handling you just the way he needs. “Do it then, show me how you like to fuck, c’mon.” Two hands are gripping at the thick of your hips, encouraging you to use him.

With both hands, you reach for his chest, stabilizing yourself as you raise your hips. Warm palms are creeping up the fat of your thighs to soothe the discernible trembling of your aching muscles. He kneads the plush skin absentmindedly, mouth gaping incredulously when you slowly begin to sink down the length of his stiff cock, your pretty pussy slobbering all over him.

“Fuck me like a slut, c’mon,” it’s a low, demanding whisper as his hands are reaching forward to find purchase on your hips, subtly guiding your frantic movements, “show me how good, slutty girls are supposed to ride cock.” A nasty, crooked smirk plagues his face, crinkling the corners of his beautifully aged, darkened eyes.

Your mouth sags in a string of helpless whimpers when you sink down onto him again, and again, and again and each time your hips collide, he’s forcing you deeper. The large hands glued to your waist are pushing you back and forth, wordlessly commanding you. The dull, achy stretch of his cock as it drags along your sopping walls is pulling the filthiest sounds from your gaped mouth — beautiful cries of pleasure, desperate pleads for more, and short huffs of air that only make him harder.

Even under you, he’s still massive, taking up the entirety of your bed as you sit so prettily atop him, thighs aching from the width of his hips. Sticky beads of sweat adorn his face and several tussled strands of short, inky hair dance haphazardly along his forehead, partially occluding his vision as he peers up at you through thick, furrowing brows.

“C’mereee, baby, fuck,” a greedy hand is reaching for your throat, deft fingers wrapping so possessively around the expanse of your neck, pulling you close.

His lips deliriously catch yours, tasting you so desperately — so sluttily. His warm tongue is creeping into your mouth, shamelessly exploring the sweet cavity. He swallows each and every gasp and whimper that he fucks out of you, intentionally storing them in the depths of his mind for later retrieval whenever he’d inevitably think about this very moment again. Your mouth hangs wide as you mindlessly kiss him back, obediently taking all of his tongue, all of his hot, raptured breaths, all of his wanton groans of pleasure — everything. 

Toji can hardly help the feral buck of his hips beneath you, he doesn’t want to help it. He needs for you to remember the feeling of his cock — how it pries you open and guts you out, how it stupidly pulls your mouth wide, even the way it creates the slightest bulge in your abdomen each time he’s at a hilt. He needs for your cunt to remember the shape of him.

If you don’t go to class with his cock in the forefront of your mind, if it isn’t what you envision when you pleasure yourself during ungodly hours of the night, if you’re not drawn to tears because you can’t possibly replicate the feeling of his punishing thrusts, then it’s a job poorly done and Toji won’t have that. Not now. Not ever.

The sheer force of his thrusts are jerking you forward, toppling you onto his chest and into his arms; they’re wrapping around you, pulling you impossibly closer as the mind-numbing buck of his hips only intensifies. Every frantic breath and throaty groan is lost in the crook of your neck, the close range of his moans like kindle to a rampant flame.

“Is anyone on campus fucking you like this?” It’s a strained, breathless whisper against the shell of your ear, his wet lips grazing your skin. “Who else is fucking you like this, huh?” He reiterates, a hand creeping up your jaw, holding you still so that he can observe your drunken gaze.

“No… no one,” you cry, shaking your head as best you can under his tightening grip, “nobody knows how to f-fuck me right.” The quiver of your sweet, honeyed voice makes his stomach sink in his ever growing arousal, cock twitching, begging for release.

Toji frowns, his darkened eyes softening. “Awwww, nobody knows how to please this slutty little pussy huh, sweetheart?” The hand that holds your face caresses your flushed cheek, a fat thumb slipping into the corner of your parted lips. “You needed a stranger to come over and fuck the shit out of you like this?” As if to accentuate his point, he’s tucking himself unbearably deeper, the lewd plap! of his balls echoing each time he bottoms out.

A big, heavy hand is landing on the fat of your ass with an experimental, earsplitting smack! You yelp incredulously, hissing through your gritted teeth as you brace yourself for another impact, but it doesn’t come. Immediately, your lust-stricken eyes are searching for his, a desperate cry dragging for your kiss-bitten lips as you plead for another.

“A-again,” you mumble, reaching for his hand to pull it over the reddening fat of your ass, enticing him, “hit me again… please.”

Wordlessly, he obliges, his heavy hand coming down once, twice, thrice, and then, you feel the gut wrenching coil in the pit of your stomach grow impossibly tighter, yearning for release. As you stupidly bounce up and down the length of his cock, you’re drunkenly babbling, but it’s the slutty, breathless whine of his name that’s dragging his mouth open in pure arousal; every breath he huffs is now a whorish moan or a guttural groan of pleasure.

“Oh, god,” he groans, his head sinking deeper into your cushiony, pink pillow, “rub that clit for me, sweetheart… I wanna see how you cum on it,” his shameless, drunken gaze is flitting between your rolling eyes and the way his twitching cock disappears into your cunt, “be a good girl ‘n make yourself cum on my cock.”

A frantic hand is reaching down to play with your poor, swollen clit, your entire being shuddering so violently from the feeling your own, overwhelming touch; It’s too much, too sensitive. Sinful rivulets of drool spill down your chin, your head falling to the side so stupidly as you trace haphazard circles around the ravaged bundle of nerves. 

“M’gonna c-cum,” you gasp, stomach sinking as your orgasm swells in the pit of your core, “hah —ohhh my fucking god… f-fuck fuck fuck.”

“Yeah? Are you cumming for me, pretty girl?” He’s coos as he draws you closer, the tip of his large nose brushing yours. “Do it then, make a mess on my cock, sweetheart c’mon,” his lips are on yours once again, kissing you so fucking sloppily, nothing but wet tongue and clashing teeth, “fuuuckkk yes, c’mon baby. Thaaaat’s it… cum on my cock just like that, such a good fucking girl.”

His mouth gapes as you buck against him, desperate, uninhibited moans dragging from your sore throat. With nothing but a strangled whimper in his throat, Toji is reluctantly slipping out of you, feverishly pumping the length of his cock in his tight fist. It’s so fucking wet; your arousal adorns the entirety of his cock and his drooling tip leaks desperately for you, making for an obscenely loud schlop! that reverberates throughout the sweltering atmosphere.

Toji’s head is pressing deeper into your pillow, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows thickly. His kiss-bitten lips are pursing together as he hums in rapture, whimpering strangled, erratic breaths through his nostrils. His forearm tenses as he hastily strokes his slick cock, sweet mutters of your name and lewd profanities spilling from his tongue.

“Help me, fuck, don’t just watch,” he gasps breathlessly, his vacant hand blindly searching for yours to wrap it around the fist that holds his cock, “fuck, fuck, fuck… yeah, make me cum like a good slut.”

The feeling of your smaller, less adept fingers wrapping around his fist and cock is what has him spilling an obscene amount of warm, syrupy cum between your searing bodies. It coats the expanse of your tits and abdomen, dripping so sinfully down your soft, perspiring skin. Toji thinks this is the hardest he’s ever cum in his life; even the day he lost his virginity pales in comparison.

It’s the look of utter enthrallment that’s written in your widening eyes as you observe his full body shudders that ensue with each viscous spurt of cum. It’s the way you’re beaming down at him, a content smile slowly spreading across your pretty, post-sex face. It’s the way you’re swiping a swift, curious finger to collect the cum that trickles down your chest, popping the digit in your mouth with a pleasureful hum of satisfaction.

Dumbfounded, Toji smiles. “You really are a woman of your word, huh?”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･

[kooberryfields4ever]

hehe😏😏 what did i say😏😏 finally posting this after more than half a year of abandoning the idea!!!!!!!! as a long time jungkooker i have observed his mannerisms for a while and i think my delusions will guide me down the right path <333 please let me know ur thoughts and as always my asks/requests are very much open to both hard and soft thoughts!!!!!! 🥺

content warnings : nsfw below the cut, handjobs, jerking off, mentions of oral, mentions of cumming inside, unprotected sex, protected sex, boobs, yadda yadda its the nsfw alphabet what do u expect😒

MDNI !

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

the sweetest <3333

cannot imagine jungkook being anything but attentive and romantic when he tends to u after sex

also cant see him as too dominant or rough during sex so aftercare is probably just kisses cuddles and pillow talk

maybe some boob groping because he cannot help himself

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

do i even need to say it

boobs, boobies, tits, honkers, knockers, breasts etc

LOVES UR TITS. like i do not care what anybody says jungkook is a titty lover, a boobie connoisseur

likes to just hold them because he is gentle and lovely and ur boobs are his home

wants them in his mouth almost all of the time

favourite part of him is probs his arms

very proud of his muscles and very very attracted to the way u seem addicted to them

loves when u dig ur nails into them when he fucks u

also loves when u get overwhelmed with cuteness aggression and feel the need to bite him and gnaw on his arm like a teething toy

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

clean boy

i dont think hes all too feral about doing it inside but if ur fucking raw then inside is the cleanest option for him

first man on earth to… prefer a condom?

of course fucking u raw is his absolute pleasure but he likes the quick and easy cleanup a condom provides

on the off chance jungkook likes to get messy :) if hes in that mood expect cum on ur face, tits or on ur pussy

not an absolutely rare occurrence just not entirely common

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

did u guys expect me to say anything but panty lover

likes them all but especially cute cotton ones that are well loved <3

ones with a little bow and a subtle lace trim

maybe the pattern is somewhat childish but that makes them all the more endearing to him

if he sees u wearing them TRUST he will be in a messy mood. he cant help himself

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

pains me to admit but jungkook gets bitches😥😥

maybe not drowning in pussy, we’ve all seen the singular neck pillow on his bed

just cannot imagine a world where jungkook looks the way he looks and doesnt fuck?????? that is a world i quite frankly dont want to live in if so.

been in the industry long enough to know how to get around dispatch rumours, also hybe/bh paying off major drama media companies lolol

i think hes had enough sex to know what he likes but jungkook is a romantic at heart and i truly believe if he found The One we would know about it

so i think theres some things unexplored bc theyre things he wants to experience with the love of his life<333

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

missionary

DONT YAWN.

just likes seeing ur face and also likes to display his strength and hold ur hips up so he can fuck u deeper

also likes that he can see when u grip onto his arms and if he really wants to he can duck his head down and bury his face in ur tits

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

yeah jk gets goofy asf

cannot imagine serious sex with him really i think hes immune to being serious ever

even if it gets a little more serious at some point there will always be a joke or a giggle inserted somewhere between

he cannot help himself sorry.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

jungkook my lovely clean boy <33

not completely razor shaven but trims regularly and keeps it neat

not a fan of stray pubes and whatnot. thinks its unhygienic

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

despite his goofy silly boy nature i think jungkook is incredibly intimate

likes to be slow and likes drawn out foreplay

this is jungkook we’re talking about……. lover of romance and soulmates and close bonds

needs to be practically combined with u when u fuck, never feels like he gets deep enough

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

dont think hes a big fan of jerking it honestly

at least not alone

loves a bit of mutual masturbation i reckon so if he does need to wank best believe he’s either calling u or texting u

its always better when hes right there with u tho, with u straddling his lap while he strokes himself and watches u get off on his thigh

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

hehe praise

for u or for him. doesnt matter

will get into this in a sec but jk dabbles in submission so expect whimpers and moans when u tell him what a good boy he is and goad him on when hes following instructions well

loves whispering how pretty u are and reminding u how much he loves u and loves ur body and thinks ur the most gorgeous person in the world

atp its just him. like i dont think he could stop himself i think he gets off on praising u

lazy sub when he does sub for u :)

less about being in the mood to sub and more about not being in the mood to do anything else

wants u to do the work and likes if u get a little mean about it

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

the couch lol

jungkook is one of those people thats just very passionate and when hes horny it needs to happen there and then

so i just cant picture u making it to his bed fast enough for his liking

his couch is big enough anyway

but make no mistake…….. morning sex

therefore beds!!!!!!!! loves fucking u in the morning because it feels so domestic and intimate and lovely and therefore loves fucking u in his bed

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

not much

libra venus lol

but its usually just from his need to be close to u and whats closer than being literally inside of u

just a lovely boy …. :( would probs get so hard just seeing u look pretty on the couch next to him while u watch tv

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

degradation probably

not a fan of being mean to u outside of a little teasing

none of that “slut”, “bitch”, “whore” business

id also say hitting but i think jungkook could get into a bit of that if the circumstances are right

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

i think he prefers receiving but isnt against eating u out

doesnt even like getting head much himself

prefers a handjob the same way he would prefer to finger u

dont think hes bad at it tho. knows the basics and primarily uses it as foreplay so orgasm is not always necessary

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

both?

depends on his mood and the circumstances in which he is fucking u

mostly slow and sensual though, maybe a mix between if he’s close

hehehe…….. probs doesnt even pull out too far when he fucks u, just wants to stay buried in u so he prefers rolling his hips slowly and grinding into u

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

not opposed to them but not his favourite

prefers when foreplay lasts forever to the point that ur both basically about to cum

but quickies are sometimes unavoidable :/

will make up for it later :)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

i dont think so …… i dont think hes a scaredy cat but hes very cautious of things that may hurt u or that may cause harm

like probably not a very public lover aside from basic pda (he has to show u off????)

would cover ur mouth to keep u quiet when he lived in the dorms

i think hed be too embarrassed if he got caught fucking, hes cute not arrogant

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

i think jungkook can go for a while and i think he can hold out for longer than most

enjoys taking his time with u and that of course would not work if he was desperate to cum five minutes in

i also think … he … .. perh aps…,.., enjoys being overstimulated…,,??

so cumming more than once :) is fun :)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

ermmm probably not?

likes the real thing and doesnt like the noises

would maybe invest in a hitachi for u but cant think of anything he would use on himself

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

not very unfair, likes to give in to u cos it shows u want him that bad and thats what gets him going

however

if jungkooks feeling submissive then yes please tease him

be mean and make him beg

and even still dont give in :)

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

moaner

like come on ? its jungkook we’re talking about

if he didnt moan id be seriously worried .

not necessarily loud, but u can definitely hear him from outside the door

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

can imagine him getting home after a long day and hes been thinking about u but cannot be bothered to move from the couch

and u look so pretty beside him so (because hes a baby) he reaches out to touch ur thigh and whines a little

maybe even pouts because hes such a massive tease

and who are u to deny him ? when he looks so pretty and u know he just wants u to look after him

and so u climb into his lap and straddle him…… and his hands roam over your hips and ass absentmindedly

and when ur kissing ur hand trails lower and lower until ur palming him over the fabric of his sweats and building him up until hes rock hard

whispering that he has to be a good boy for u or else he wont get rewarded, and obviously he nods because he loves being ur good boy

but his hands wander a bit too much for ur liking and so u bite his lower lip and spank his hip gently before sneaking ur hand past the waistband of his sweats and underwear to grip his length

and of course hes dripping, how wouldnt he be ??

so u indulge him and spread his precum down his cock before stroking him slowly, nudging his clothes down to get a better look

and hes so fucked out that his head tips backwards, his wandering hands gripping your hips firmly

and despite the mess, hes delicate when he cums, spilling over his shirt and moaning softly, thanking u with sweet murmurs and a gentle hand rubbing ur thigh

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

self-identified horse cock

just kidding but i think hes a little bigger than average

probs more on the girth side than anything else

i dont think its anything extreme, i think its enough for u to notice but nothing that will carve out ur insides

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

i think sex is an expression of his love language a little so i think he has a higher sex drive

but not in a horny ggrrrr ooga booga woof woof way but in a please can i just be inside u forever and make a home within ur walls way

will probs want sex more often than ur average guy but its never pressure its more just like a natural progression of cuddling and being around him

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

probably not gonna fall asleep for a while after

if hes subbing then maybe sooner than any other times u have sex

but mostly when its over he will stay up to shower and eat and maybe play some games before he falls asleep

[ficmenrhot]

Hii could u do a smut where reader calls finnick ‘Finny’. Like she moans it out while they’re yk and it absolutely makes him feral. And he’s all like:

“What was that sugar? Say it again.” Etc.

Say it Again

Pairing: Soft dom Finnick x shy fem!reader

Notes: Dom/sub themes, voice kink, praise kink, p in v, slight corruption kink, Finnick Odair is such a munch. Minors DNI

A/N: I haven’t had the motivation to write and I’ve still got a few requests in my drafts, I’m really sorry if they’re yours. Hope I hadn’t lost my touch

————————————————————————

Finnick was your first everything- first relationship, first kiss….the first one to break you in- and quite frankly, he intends to be your last too. He loves how he gets to be the only one to teach you all of these things- to be the person who corrupts your innocence, explores different ways to give you pleasure, and work your body better than you can.

Finnick is always sure to praise you during sex to ensure you’re fully comfortable with him. Sex was never really an intimate or enjoyable thing for him before he had met you, so Finnick wants to make sure you are given the experience he never did. More than anything else, Finnick would like to hear your be more vocal during sex.

Although you occasionally make a few noises here and there, letting out small moans and soft whimpers (because let’s be real, it’s impossible to keep quiet when the Finnick Odair is railing you), you often try to conceal your sounds because you feel a bit insecure about your voice. Unbeknownst to you, Finnick would like nothing more than to hear you moan out his name and to tell him how good he makes you feel. If only you know the ego boost it would give him and how his heart would race at a single comment.

This night, Finnick has you laid out on your shared bed, the mattress soft yet supporting underneath you two as he thrusts deeply into you at a steady pace. His warm mouth is latched onto the crook of your neck, sucking and nipping, sure to leave love marks on your skin as one of his hand reaches for your clit to trace lazy circles. The sex, as usual, is phenomenal and your back is arched in pleasure, legs folded as they hang over his sculpted shoulders.

A few soft whimpers fall from your mouth involuntarily at the undeniable pleasure you’re feeling and you bite down on your bottom lips to control your noises like always. Finnick cocks his head, his mouth momentarily detaching from your neck as his lips form that signature smirk which you are so familiar with. You’re confused as of what Finnick is doing but you’re way too cockdrunk to care. His thick and lengthy cock is pounding into you so well, grazing over your cervix with every thrust and you’re surprised that it isn’t bruised by now.

Finnick grabs a pillow from the side of the bed and swiftly places it under the small of your back as he lifts you up and places you back down with ease. Your mouth falls open and you forget about controlling your volume, a loud moan mixed with a gasp leaving your mouth. The pillow has put you in an even better position, raising your hips slightly so that each of Finnick’s thrust is angled to hit that spongey spot inside of you which makes your toes curl in pleasure and back arch further.

“Hmm honey, you like that, huh?” Finnick teases after seeing your reaction, and you can only nod as you attempt to babble something incoherently.

“F-fuck…Finny, s-so good” you mumble, your mind in a state of haze right now.

Hearing your words and the nickname that just fell out of your mouth, Finnick’s eyes immediately light up and an even bigger smirk replaces the former one on his face. Although you don’t realise in the moment that Finnick has bitten his lips at your comment, you sure can feel his reaction to it as his thick cock pulsates in arousal, causing your warmth to tighten around him, feeling every vein and curve.

“What was that sugar?” Finnick chuckles both smugly and proudly, “say it again for me”

“I-I….”

Only then do you realise what you’ve said and your cheeks immediately turn pink, a flustered look appearing on your face which Finnick finds so, so adorable. You struggle to find the right words to say, only blinking shyly as you attempt to cover your face, but Finnick pulls your hands away as he stares down at you with the same smirk.

“Don’t be shy honey, your whimpers and moans are music to my ears……besides, your voice turns me on so much, you have no idea.”

Finnick whispers into your ears, and you feel a tingling sensation in your stomach, ‘butterflies’ Finnick calls them. You blink, not knowing that that is what Finnick feels about the sounds you make, and it makes you feel better.

“Now..I’ll ask you again, sugar, what is it you called me, hmm?”

Finnick hums as he cocks his head with a small teasing smile, waiting for an answer.

“…Finny. I called you Finny..”

“Good girl.”

God save Finnick Odair from the things he is going to do to you.

———————————————————————————

A/N: to whoever had requested this, hope this is what you had wanted <3 Once again, all likes, reblogs, and follows are appreciated, so are comments!

[percervall]

i’m so excited that you’re doing the feral fics again!!

lando x body worship (“you taste like heaven”)

honestly this man screams simp to me and that’s really the only thing i’m sure of in this world 😂💖 love ya!

🥰 thanks cate

you're absolutely right, if you look up simp in the dictionary you'll find a picture of lando. tweaked the prompt slighty, hope that's alright!

warnings: oral (f receiving), pussy whipped lando, mentions of mclaren's disaster class

You're half and half convinced that this is more of a comfort thing for him than anything else –not that you're complaining. You'll never complain about the feeling of Lando moaning open mouthed against your cunt as he goes down on you for what feels like hours. 

Relaxing into the pillows, you scratch your nails over his scalp as you tug on his curls a little. He makes a noise in the back of his throat, his fingers digging into your thighs as he licks and sucks. It's not enough to make you come, but then that is not the point –not right now at least. This is about Lando needing to get out of his own head after yet another race where he did all he could, where he got so close he could taste it only to be fucked over by the incompetence on the pitwall. 

Lando comes up for air, pressing a kiss against your stomach as he looks up at you through those frankly ridiculous long lashes but there's a clarity in those eyes now where before they were hidden behind storm clouds. 

"Taste so good, baby," he murmurs. He looks positively dishevelled –curls about as messy as that moment right after a race where he takes off both helmet and balaclava, and his lips and chin glisten in the low light as if he’s just devoured the ripest of stone fruits. Before you can even respond, Lando dives back in, licking from opening to clit and moaning lewdly as he does so. Lando presses his tongue against your clit as one hand rests against your stomach to make sure you stay where you are while he slides one of his long fingers inside of you. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, throwing your head back. Lando hums against where you’re already sensitive, sliding a second finger into your pussy, and curling them upwards. The lazily simmering heat akin to smouldering embers are reignited and dialled up to a twelve what feels like immediately when he brushes against that spot inside of you. The noises leaving your mouth sound foreign to your ears. 

"Please," you sigh, burying a hand in Lando's hair while the other arm is thrown over your eyes. Again, Lando just hums but sucks your clit into his mouth. Apparently the lazy build up pushed you a lot closer to the edge than you had anticipated. You feel that coil in the pit of your stomach tighten and the only thought you're capable of vocalising is don't stop please don't stop. Your body goes rigid as your orgasm washes over you, Lando's moans against your clit prolonging it. Trying to catch your breath, you can feel Lando gently lap at you in an attempt to clean you up. Swallowing hard, you lower your arm so you can look at him. Lando sits back on his knees and wipes his face on his discarded t-shirt. 

"C'mere," you mumble, opening your arms for him to collapse into. Lando smiles and crawls up the bed to accept the cuddle. In the past you would've immediately offered to return the favour, but over the course of your relationship with him you've learnt that sometimes giving is more than enough for him, and judging by the wetness rubbing against your hip now, tonight was no different.

[sideprince]

YOU GET IT. This book is really about Harry's relationship to Snape and foreshadowing that Snape's betrayal isn't all it seems to be. The Slughorn party scene makes me angry actually because Snape’s only purpose in it is to be the straight man in a comedy bit. He serves no narrative purpose (even the message he conveys has no purpose - it’s not like Dumbledore was cancelling an appointment, he’s just saying “we had no plans to meet and continue to not have any. k bye” but doing it through Snape for... some fucking reason ¯\_(ツ)_/¯). In the film ABOUT HIM where he’s only in four scenes one of them renders Snape’s presence narratively functionless. He's in that scene so the audience can get a laugh when McClaggen pukes on his shoes (and the timing of that whole bit is painfully clumsy and slow, because the films don't respect the audience's intelligence and assume them to be clumsy and slow too).

And you know what, I know I didn’t include the Sectumsempra scene and I’ll tell you why: because what’s the point? Snape shows up and says nothing. He heals Draco. He doesn’t hold Harry accountable???????? He doesn’t guess how Harry knew this uncharacteristically dark spell that isn't taught in class or punish Harry or even ask him “hey so about this student who’s bleeding to death in this bathroom where the only other person was you?” Snape's purpose in that scene is to fix Harry's mistake. Which is the complete antithesis of how he relates to Harry.

I’m frothing at the mouth at how Steve Kloves went out of his way to strip this scene of any substance for no discernible reason other than to handicap his own plot and character development??? Severus FUCKING Snape, who spends every book antagonizing and punishing Harry, just lets him go and fixes his near-fatal fuck-up without a word????? And Harry “slashed up a fellow student” Potter just walks away and is like, “that was messier than the time I fully murdered a teacher in my first year but anyway, guess I better do as Ginny says and go with her to hide this book, maybe we can hook up after,” and that’s just… fine. Which tracks with the rest of Kloves' sloppy writing, since he doesn't show Harry getting attached to the book, let alone the Prince, he just carries it around and reads it sometimes. And even when he does that we don't see him get immersed in it, he's still fully aware of what's going on around him and actively participating in conversations while perusing it. If you watch this film (or any of them) and think about every scene in the context of "what if I hadn't read the book and didn't have the understanding it gave me for what's happening or the emotional attachment to the characters" then you'll see how Kloves took a vibrant, colorful landscape and turned it into a hand-drawn cardboard cutout.

The purpose the Sectumsempra scene serves in the book is manifold and complex:

Harry's trust in the Prince is shaken and he sees an ugly side to this unknown person he's anthropomorphized into a kind of friend.

This is paralleled with Snape appearing at that exact moment, because foreshadowing.

Harry, who at the end of the previous book wanted and failed to use an Unforgiveable on Bellatrix Lestrange, experiences what it is to enact violence on someone for the first time and is deeply shaken by it.

Snape DISCOVERS THAT HARRY HAS HIS OLD POTIONS BOOK.

Snape, who suggested expulsion in Harry's second year for being seen flying a car across the country and into the Whomping Willow, punishes him for attempted manslaughter with nightly detentions. I need a whole other post to unpack this one (and while this may not work for the film, the solution isn't to scrap Harry being punished altogether - that goes against Snape's character and eliminates possibilities for tension, exposition, and plot development, not to mention character development).

Harry chooses to hide the book in the Room of Requirement and hand Snape Ron's book instead. This is a crucial moment for Harry's character development: he hides the book with the goal of retrieving it later, because despite the Prince's violent betrayal, he doesn't reject him and is still attached to him [insert meta about the potential parallels to Lily's friendship with Snape, what she saw in him, and why they remained friends for some time even when Snape became more immersed in the Dark Arts]. In fact, Harry wants to go back and get it, and his main reason for not doing so is fear of discovery by Snape, not a rejection of the Prince. This is a hugely important moment once you realize that Snape is the Prince, because it makes Harry's relationship to him - and his view of Snape's betrayal when he kills Dumbledore - much more complex and interesting and cathartic. It also shows that Snape has redeemable qualities, if Harry was able to become so attached to his younger self (the one who was an aspiring DE, before he defected and risked his life to save a friend, at that).

Snape's realization that Harry has his old Potions book is what leads to the moment after Dumbledore's death where Snape reveals his identity as the Prince. If he didn't know Harry had his old book and had learnt from it, why would he do this?

The purpose of the Sectumsempra scene in the film, though? Imprisonable offence after imprisonable offence. Writer's jail for Kloves:

Harry and Malfoy have it out, even though that tension hasn't really been built up (there was the Hogwarts Express scene and then not much after. Fun fact: when Draco gets caught gatecrashing Slughorn's party, it's done without having set up in any way that he's overlooked by Slughorn and insecure about losing his social standing due to his dad's imprisonment. There's zero attention given to his lack of inclusion in the Slug Club, so the fact he's using gatecrashing as an excuse to cover for sneaking off to the RoR is impossible for the viewer to understand, because the fact that he'd need to gatecrash at all is also unexplained, unless they had context from the books).

Snape saves Malfoy, but since neither character has had much screen time or relevance to the plot, it's just a striking visual to see Malfoy splayed on the water logged floor with Snape's robes swirling around them but not much more. Again, without the context from the books, this moment lacks substance.

There are no repercussions for Harry. He and his friends acknowledge that the book is dangerous, but Harry isn't punished, doesn't try to make amends, and basically acts like the self-involved special little boy Snape makes him out to be and who the books show him to be the opposite of. He doesn't seem all that conflicted or horrified and doesn't even hide the book on his own, his friends push him to get rid of it, and he goes to do it because it's a way to hang out with Ginny - who hides it on his behalf, which signals very different things about Harry's character than Book!Harry's choices do. The purpose of hiding the book in the film isn't so Harry can try and get it back later because he's still attached to the Prince, it's so he can be alone with Ginny and they can kiss, which Ginny instigates because Steve Kloves does nothing better than write passive protagonists who don't have to lift an emotional finger (see: Harry going along with being told to hide book instead of choosing to do so himself), and female characters who do all the heavy (and weirdly subservient? I'm looking at you Ginny feeding Harry and tying his shoes at the Burrow) lifting.

Nothing about this scene gives us even a remote hint that Snape is the Prince. When, at the end of the film, Snape reveals that he's the Half-Blood Prince, there is no context for it in the film or reasonable cause for him to know that Harry knows who the Half-Blood Prince even is. It's like if Ron walked up to someone on the street when he was 40 and said "yes, I am Roonil Wazlib." This revelation hasn't been set up, all its foreshadowing has been deliberately avoided, so it doesn't land with the impact it has in the books and definitely doesn't have the same effect if you haven't read the book first.

In short, in the film about Snape, and Harry's unwitting relationship with him, the scene where the biggest clue is given about the Prince's identity and one of the most crucial interactions between Harry and Snape happens, Snape is a sidebar, not a feature. So I don't count it as a Snape scene. He doesn't even have any dialogue aside from vulnera sanentur. Poor Alan Rickman was doing his best to do right by Snape's character with his acting even though the script gave him literally nothing. I hope every bowl of soup Steve Kloves eats for the rest of his life is cold and unsalted. Unless it's gazpacho. Then I hope it's scalding hot and burns his tongue.

Canon: Harry overhears Malfoy intimidating Borgin and figures out that he's been branded with the Dark Mark

Steve Kloves: Harry sees Malfoy meet a bunch of Death Eaters in Borgin and Burkes and figures out it was a ceremony to give Malfoy a Dark Mark

No but what I love about the movie version of events is that it implies that any Death Eater can brand anyone with the Dark Mark or, even better, that Voldemort was there in Borgin and Burkes and no one saw or heard him and he just popped into a shop in Knockturn Alley, tatooted a kid, and peaced out. I know I talk a lot about how Rowling (boo, hiss) was thoughtless with her world building, but she has nothing on Steve Kloves. I'm pretty sure he wrote those scripts with a crayon stuck between his toes.

[ventique18]

Papa 🐉 with triplets HCs

When going overseas for official duties, he prefers not to be cooped up in that weird iron bird creature (it's an airplane, hun). So he instead flies to the country in his dragon form. Imagine people's awe when this gigantic, magnificent creature lands gracefully, lowers his head down carefully, and out of his mouth hops not one, not two, but three little dragons. They're so tiny you could swear they're cute little dogs.

He always goes to meetings clad in heavy robes. More often than not though, his mysterious cloak has a peculiar feature: it produces three sets of giggling voices every once in a while, especially when the room goes deadly silent.

Once an hour passes though, three little tykes get magicked out of the cloak like how a bunny hops out of a magician's hat. The wyrmlings like to climb on and off papa's back and munch on his horns. Everyone could only glance in amazement at how strong their Majesty's neck muscles must be to withstand the weight.

The three siblings still have very small wings but would always attempt to fly. 🌸 always almost has a heart attack when they inevitably come crashing down from their disproportionate weight, but 🐉 would save them the last second with his magic. He'd laugh loudly and hug 🌸 to reassure them none of their babies would get into accidents while he's alive.

I say accident because the three would frequently get hurt on purpose anyway. Their parents don't understand why, but one of their hobbies seem to be beating each other up in any way they could think of. 🐉🌸 would often wake up in the dead of the night because one sibling hurled another off the bed, simply because he/she was hogging 🌸's chest apparently. 🌸's chest is their favorite snuggle spot.

While 🐉 frankly doesn't have all the time in the world, he strictly employs a 8-5 work hour like a regular person. He doesn't really mind working but ever since he's started a family, he believes this is finally his god-given grace so he'll do it properly. His spouse is very capable in assisting him so they never really had problems with this arrangement.

So he likes to be closer to his babies and feeds them personally while it's still normal. He kinda just force-feeds them mashed food with a spoon in a row though. "Can't you make it more fun? Like, open wide, here comes the flying broom!" "I am simply not a sappy person." "You feed me while saying cheesy shit though..." "I cannot very well say those kinds of things to my children."

When he bathes them, he makes them line up and dunks them into a pool one by one. When they're in their dragon form, he scrubs them with a brush like he's doing laundry.

He hangs them on a clothesline to dry them on a sunny day lmao. "What are you doing to our babies??" "What? They enjoy it." Fair enough, the little gremlins are giggling.

When 🐉🌸 gets one those snazzy refrigerators with a water faucet and ice dispenser in front, the siblings like to sit on top of each other's shoulders so they could steal ice cubes for themselves. Or lap at the running water like thirsty dogs.

Grim has dedicated water bowls all over the place because he finds it hard to pour from a pitcher, and the feral siblings actually prefer lapping from those than go to the refreshments table to fetch a drink. The first time 🐉🌸 saw this, they were so shocked they kinda just stared blankly.

"Are... Are they actually dogs..." "I do not know, at this point." "Did you do this too when you were little?" "We did not have any semblance of a pet so I do not think so." Lilia reveals later though, that 🐉 drank from the damn toilet once.

He likes teaching them all manners of things. He gets a bit too intense sometimes though, what with them failing over and over again on what he thinks to be simple tasks, so 🌸 has to remind him gently that they are not him and shouldn't ever be him. He lets up and smiles. Yes, this is what children are supposed to be.

He legitimately doesn't have any ounce of experience with fatherhood and was suddenly thrust with three, so 🌸 honestly thinks he's a bit clumsy when it comes to taking care of them. Really clumsy and callous, actually.

But when 🌸 chances upon their three babies curled up against him, with him napping soundly and still holding an illustrated book on gargoyles and their history (goodness, he never changes), they thought he wasn't so bad after all.

Thinking harder about it though, what with him carrying the weight of the country while carrying the weight of three chubby babies and a feral cat, he might be the best father ever, after all.

[oxydiane]

sns is so fucking unhinged and nobody will ever be them i’m sorry. you start the series and it’s like oh haha look at these goofy angsty rivals! they hate each other! then sasuke dies for naruto thirty chapters in giving up his dream of revenge and naruto goes batshit insane. now you’re like ah they’re friends i guess that’s cute! and sasuke is trying to kill naruto because he’s the most important person in his life which is . ok and it becomes the driving force of everything or something. sasuke leaves and naruto dedicates the rest of his life to bringing him back and you’re still a casual fan so ur like he’s doing it for the promise right? then orochimaru says sasuke is his and naruto goes batshit insane feral homicidal (again) and after that sasuke reappears and they have ??? like five different panels dedicated to them staring at each other??? and he jumps off a mountain and hugs naruto for some reasons just to whisper some gay shit in his ear kishimoto frankly needs to be jailed drawing this and keep that best friend nonsense going. anyways. you have sasuke become a convicted terrorist to which the normal people response is “ok we need to hunt him down” and when naruto learns they’re gonna hunt him down he starts screaming crying throwing up he has a panic attack he can’t breathe he’s falling in the snow he gets on his knees and begs them to spare his BFF. after having a meltdown over the thought of sasuke dying what may possibly be the natural coping mechanism any stable person would adapt? of course realising that if sasuke dies he can die too. so he sees sasuke again and after he attempts murdering sakura twice and expresses the intent to murder kakashi he’s like. i will bear the burden of your hatred and die with you hehe and if we both die you won’t be an uchiha and i won’t be the jinchuuriki to the nine tails and we’ll be able to understand each other better in a different lifetime! WE’LL MEET AGAIN IN THE AFTERLIFE BECAUSE NOT EVEN DEATH CAN DO US PART! and sasuke (just as insane as him) doesn’t even flinch he’s like what the fuck is wrong with you but then ok let’s fuckingggf die together on my god i will kill your first anyways . then they find out they are soulmates and get cute matching tattoos on their hands and decide to fight to the death once more because sasuke is back on his i will shoulder all the hatred of the world alone and i need to kill you because i love you more than anyone else in the world actually you’re the only person i love so you need to DIE and naruto is like I WILL NOT LET YOU SHOULDER THAT HATRED ALONE I WILL FREE YOU FROM THE PAIN and they fight and despite all the whatever weapons used in the war it’s a fuckinggg fistfight in which just as sasuke is about to inflict what he thinks is the last blow says “farewell… my one and only…………………. (very long pause to accentuate how heteronormative this next word is gonna be) FRIEND” and fucking stops using his sharingan because not even then he can record the image of naruto dying especially by his hand but naruto STOPS HIM LIKE A f cHAMP and they end up blowing each other’s arms off (rip the matchies) and as they’re bleeding to the fucking death sasuke is like you’re the only person that has never tried to severe their ties with me why do you go so far for me and naruto from the depths of comphet hell is like because you’re my FRIEND and sasuke being absolutely done with this bullshit is like ok what the fuck does that mean to you then and this is where it gets even gayer and relatable because naruto is like i don’t KNOW i just know that when you hurt i hurt and i just can’t take it and isn’t that the most gay experience thing ever? naruto knows what it feels like to have friends but what he feels for sasuke is so bone deep and unconventional that he cannot make sense of it and can only describe the pain it brings. after that sasuke CRIES LIKE THEYVE GOT ME SOOO FUCKED UP but you know what got me even more fucked up?

naruto waking up bloodied and battered and half alive with one arm missing but still wondering if that was heaven because sasuke was next to him. sasuke looking so happy and peaceful when saying “i lost” as a stark contrast to him looking and feeling like half of his body was being torn apart when he “won” against naruto in vote1 and left him. the bitterness of victory vs the sweetness of losing if you will. AND HIM COMPARING WHAT HE FEELS FOR NARUTO TO PRAYING MY GODD. did i forget to mention that then we learn that Ohhh it was never a stupid shallow rivalry as we all thought! they have actually been watching each other from afar since they were little freshly traumatised children and have longed to hold each other’s hands since then! what was it sasukeeee you felt warm and fuzzy when you saw naruto to thought of it as a weakness? these two are so astronomically hopelessly desperately obsessed in love with each other it’s ridiculous i’ve had ENOUGH free me from this mental prison

[lavendertheys]

Since you’re CEO of autistic Imogen just HOW do you feel about the What Doesn’t Break implication that Imogen spent enough time seeking out Laudna’s mind before the townsfolk came to run her out of town that she threw herself into the middle of that conflict like they were already old friends? Because it makes me absolutely feral.

IT'S A WHOLE LOT, FRIEND.

On my first read I honestly thought that Imogen made all those choices and subsequent in the moment. But upon a few rereads it does sound a lot more like Imogen noticed Laudna without even knowing who or what she was noticing, and kept it on her radar out of hopeful curiosity.

Imagine being aware of some blip of mysterious calm, not understanding it but inherently trusting it anyway. And then the townsfolk start whispering about a hag in the woods, and you just roll your eyes because their paranoia is unending and tiresome and rarely based on any legitimate threat. And then one day that paranoia escalates into an angry mob that heads off in some very intentional direction, and you only follow so you can see their faces when the hunt turns up nothing at all.

But at some point, in between all the frenzied thoughts about their prey and all of your own thoughts about their idiocy, you realize something that makes your stomach drop:

The further they go, the closer that blip gets.

You move faster and throw yourself into the procession and keep your mental walls up as best you can, but you already know you'll deal with any amount of pain just to make sure that blip doesn't go away. So far it hasn't, and it's still getting stronger and clearer with every step forward, and you wonder what could possibly be waiting for you on the other side of this swarm--

It's a person.

A woman, you guess but make a note to confirm later, who's pale as moonlight and visibly gaunt beneath her tattered but beautiful dress. She's frankly stunning, but what hits you much harder is her expression: not a trace shock or surprise that these people are gathered in front of her, but the purest and most profound sadness you've ever seen someone wear on their face. And the thing is, that kind of sadness should be loud, should be screaming and wailing its way through your tentatively open mind; but no matter how directly you focus, your find nothing.

(Well, that's not completely true, because underneath all the layers of breathless hollering is the faintest, simplest, most peaceful melody you've ever heard.)

There's nothing in all of Exandria that could sound like that and have even a lick of evil in it, you decide within your next heartbeat, and start to shrug between bodies and duck around torches until there's nothing left between you and this individual you know nothing about except that their mind doesn't hurt.

(You imagine what it would feel like if all these people went away, if it was just you and the woman, if it could actually be possible to share a life with someone that didn't revolve around pain and self-control and being tolerated.)

That impossible dream is what carries you forward, turns you around, and spreads your arms wide like your daddy trying to wrangle an over-excited chicken.

"No. Don't you dare."

You've never belonged in Gelvaan, you understand now, but rather between Gelvaan and her.

[theinfamousdoctorf]

This won't work for EMHM so I'm throwing it out there to hopefully inspire someone else-

[Just to preface I DO NOT support corporal punishment in any way, but for fiction it's fine.] Watching some of the original interactions between the original Eclipse and Lunar I do get the sense that he was parenting Lunar at least somewhat. He was certainly policing his language and teaching him some useful things. And then Lunar broke off and betrayed him and Sun and Moon accepted him as a brother. So what I'm thinking now is that that means NOBODY attempted to continue parenting this clearly immature learning AI. He doesn't do his laundry, he showers with his clothes on and is clearly not keeping his body properly cleaned. He eats nothing but the same garbage/sugar food [Nutella] and clearly has no/little control over his negative emotions. He seemingly never learned how to forgive anyone either. Lately he's been trying to start shit with the current Eclipse and Eclipse clearly just wants to be left alone. He left the dimension to get away from the family and now Puppet keeps inviting Lunar for the drama when Eclipse is contractually obligated to participate even though he's not comfortable with it. I'm meandering but it's just occurring to me that Sun and Moon accepted Lunar as a brother yes. But he'd also lost his only parent and nobody picked up that slack. They just let him run wild. So now he's a feral man-child with a bunch of terrible habits. Though this does make it entertaining when Lunar is in the other dimension and Eclipse is taunting him a little like; yeah you're super special protagonist boy. Don't care. Your powers don't work here and if you try to throw hands with me I'm gonna smack you just like the original Eclipse because I'm bigger then you and tired of your shit when I'm trying to mind my own business and not talk to you at all. I can see him just getting completely fed up with Lunar and giving him a spanking. Because nobody has told Lunar what to do since the original died, and frankly; maybe they should have.

[theroundbartable]

Arthur: hmm... Hey Gwen. If I died, who would miss me more. You or Merlin?

Gwen: *no hesitation* Merlin

Arthur: eh ... Wow, thank you?

Gwen: I had a life before you. He didn't. If you die, he'll probably lose his will to live.

Arthur: that's... Gwen, wtf.

Gwen: *puts books down* I love you, Arthur, and of course I would be devastated too, but Merlin is my best friend and I know him well. He'd do anything to be by your side. His job, his apprenticeship with Gaius, his life... Everything he has, he has thanks to you, and is risking to keep you safe. I'm your wife and I love you. But don't forget that I can go back to be blacksmith or a servant if I must. As Queen, I can continue like this even without you, which is kind of the purpose of you marrying me and the reason why people were so against us. I have a purpose outside of being your wife. Merlin is your best friend first, your servant second, your physician third. If he loses you, he'll lose everything he is. It will destroy him.

Arthur: I-

Gwen: what I'm saying is, don't die. If not for my sake, and let's be honest, if you die, you'll probably leave everything to me so you can rest in peace, and you will use that as an excuse not to fight on, then keep fighting for HIS sake.

Arthur: ...

...........

Merlin: yeah. That sounds about right.

Arthur: Gwen is my WIFE. Even if it's true, she shouldn't say that, right? I mean, she makes it sound like ... Like I should have married you!

Merlin: ... No, I don't think that's what she's saying. To be married means to be equal to one another. You and Gwen have more in common than your love for each other. You both have a vision for Camelot and that's something that ties you together. I'm your servant. I was never anything else. And quite frankly, despite everything the dragon said, I don't care for anything else.

Arthur: ... you love me.

Merlin: yeah, so?

Arthur: ... That doesn't sound very healthy

Merlin: *snorts* Stop trying to die for me, and then we'll talk.

Arthur: I still love Gwen

Merlin: I never said you don't and I'd never expect that to change. She's much better for the kingdom too. I'm happy to be where I am, especially since you know about my magic and accepted that. I like how things are and I wouldn't change a thing.

Arthur: don't you want... More?

Merlin: more? More what? More assassination attempts so a have to save you again? No thanks.

Arthur: no, I mean. Relationship wise

Merlin: I think our friendship is intense enough as it is.

Arthur: gosh, Merlin! I'm asking you if you want it to be romantic!!!!

Merlin: .... You're relationship with Gwen is romantic and that's not more than what we have. As I said, I don't need us to change. I don't need anything to change. Except, please do not think about my life without you in it, because if we start that, I might go feral and destroy half the kingdom.

Arthur: ... I think you might need therapy.

Merlin: can I pay that off of taxes?

Bonus:

Gaius: so, you're here for therapy

Merlin: yes

Gaius: with, eh... The king

Arthur: yes

Gaius: what about Gwen?

Arthur: Gwen told me to wish you luck.

Gaius: ... Oh boi.

Gaius: ... Alright then. So... Why do you both, er... King and servant, need couple therapy exactly?

Arthur/Merlin: he keeps trying to DIE for me!!!!

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Hello! I just finished reading all your writing.. i feel like your characterisation of coop is just so good!

Lately i’ve been fixated on how Cooper would feel about a plus sized partner.. (definitely not just because I’m plus sized myself)

Part of me feels his postwar ghoul self would be feral (pardon the pun) for a woman with a soft squishy body, especially a soft tummy and ass he can sink his fingers into, because someone like that would be so rare in the wastelands, and because it would be so different to his own physique

(Anon, I have a secret to share with you before we even get into headcanon territory; I'm a size 14-16ish, myself, so I definitely relate. I try to keep my reader-insert characters as nondescript as is reasonable in order to keep them accessible, but honestly? Every single character I've ever written is fat, or at least midsized. I feel like my use of words like "soft" and "plush" to describe them, plus references to tummies and bellies, might expose me a bit on that front. Thanks for reading and thanks for the ask!)

Prewar!Cooper Howard just loves women in general, all shapes and sizes. Big fan. He appreciates the female form in every one of its many variations. Back home, he knew plenty of bigger girls, curvier girls, and dated several before he met and fell head over heels for Barb. Once the two of them move to California, there's a noticeable decline in the variation of body types around him, and while he finds the women around him beautiful as well, he also finds himself sort of missing the higher concentration of softer ladies.

After she gives birth to Janey, Barb is pretty self-conscious about her body, but Cooper is quick to reassure her that she is just as beautiful as she was before (even moreso to him since she's grown softer in such nice places, frankly, but he doesn't think that's a proper thing to say out loud). She experiences a lot of pressure to be conventionally thin in her role as an executive, and while he supports her ambitions and what she wants to do with herself, it makes him feel terrible to see her so down on her body sometimes when he loves her (and it) so much.

Post-divorce, I think that a bigger partner, especially someone comfortable in their looks, their personal style, would be a welcome change to him. Like I said in my response to the question about him with a partner with body hair, I think he'd enjoy being with someone who wasn't so "L.A. perfect"; more authentic, at least to him.

He really loves a soft belly on a woman, and it's a treat that's been denied to him for so long. Of course, his favorite place to cum is inside you in whatever form he can get it, but he also likes to spurt all over your breasts and tummy, the sight of the mess cooling on your skin enough to get him going again more often than not. It drives him doubly crazy if you play in it a bit.

Also likes a good tit fuck. Likes it even more if you've got big enough breasts to do it while you sit on the floor in front of him. Getting to smoke a cigarette and sit back and watch you jerk him off with your tits is high up on his list of favorite ways to relax after a stressful day, especially if you tease the head of his cock with your lips and tongue.

Finds big nipples/big areolas very sexy; if you've got either (and definitely if you've got both), you might end up having to fend him off of your chest every once in a while with as often as he'll like to suck and lick and nip the poor things until they're all puffy and sore.

Enjoys using his ability to still pick you up and toss you around as a way to show off to you. It makes him feel virile and strong, so I hope you don't mind a little manhandling from time to time...

The Ghoul is always very pleasantly surprised to see anyone with some substance to them, physically; it's not necessarily that fat or midsize people don't exist, but the incidence of folks who are malnourished, stunted, and emaciated has certainly increased as the centuries have crept by.

He has always been a fairly lean and wiry guy, and life has given him more and more hard edges, so he adores a plush partner; round face, full lips, soft overall features. Big, soft hair, even. It's such a fascinating contrast to himself, to everything around him. The Wasteland is so harsh and strips every last bit of life it can out of every last thing that inhabits it, so to see someone so vivacious and supple...you are spellbinding to him before he even gets to touch you, to say the least.

When he does get to touch you, he wants to be respectful, trying his hardest to control his urge to rip your clothes away and grip your supple skin in his bare hands. He's trying so hard to reconnect with the more tender, gentlemanly part of himself, if it even still exists. But you seemingly have no idea how wild you drive him, how badly he wants to pin you down and feel your warm, pliable form beneath his, kind and sweetly flirty as ever despite how thin his self control is wearing. It's not long before the feeling he's trying to ignore consumes you both and he becomes intimately familiar with just how soft your body really is.

The man already had a breeding kink long ago, but it comes back with a vengeance if he meets the right person. He already finds himself drawn to your wide hips and thick thighs, but once he's fallen for you, once he's decided that you're his and he wants you to be his forever, they take on a whole new light. All he can think about his how good those wide hips would feel in his hands as he pumps you full, how beautiful your little tummy would look adorned with a baby bump.

Big fan of thigh-fucking, especially if you're not particularly rad-resistant; its a nice way for him to put you on your back, your legs on his shoulders the way he likes, pumping away at you in a way that feels natural without having to worry about making you incredibly sick or hurting you if he can't pull out in time. Or if he produces a lot of precum, which he is prone to. You both love and hate it, the head of him bumping and teasing against your clit depending on the angle, but never stimulating you enough to make you cum yourself. Fortunately, he's quite faithful about planting his head between your thighs and finishing you off once he's done.

If you are rad resistant, he still loves it; in fact, he loves it even more because he can fuck your thighs until he's about to finish, and instead of coating your stomach and mound, he can shove his weeping cock inside you at the last second and breed you, the sudden, wet heat around him making him cum even harder. Best of both worlds.

[eelnoise]

something for two (nsfw!)

week 1 of small kinktober!

catboy!zoro x fem!reader

>your plan to wear that little dress to the bar works way better than you think.

cw: catboy going feral, biting, bleeding, breeding, zoro is a little rough with you, use of the nickname 'princess' an: with this fic I have officially been posting for a year! and to celebrate i'm going to attempt a few more this month in honor of the season changing. thank you all for being on this little journey with me! wc: 2.3k

The bar thrums with loud music and echoed chatter; easy distractions after the last several days of straying off the wayward marine skiffs that always seem to be chasing along after them.

Maybe it’s the handful of whiskey he’s already downed, but Zoro finds it easy to dismiss the hustle and bustle of the dance floor or the crowded bartender. He’s sated where he’s seated, quite content on minding his business while the other Strawhats enjoy themselves with whatever they’re busy doing.

He keeps a sharp eye out, though, for despite his light inebriation Zoro’s guard remains up. There isn’t any way to tell if any of these patrons are up to no good, and frankly somebody needs to keep the peace if something breaks out. That, and, someone very important to him has yet to show up.

Back on the ship, you had insisted on waiting and walking with Nami – who famously takes a while to get ready for a night out – and knowing that you can defend yourself if necessary on the short walk from the dock to the town, Zoro shrugs and heads off with the others, thinking nothing of it.

But you haven’t turned up yet. 

Part of him thinks to go searching for you, but each time he considers standing up your voice echoes in his mind, scolding him for getting lost or losing his way.

With a sigh, Zoro’s ears flatten and his tail twitches in annoyance as he finishes off another mug of whiskey.

When you walk into the bustling bar, it’s hard to find anyone you’re familiar with over the masses of people within. So you stick close to Nami, inching your way through sweaty, booze-scented bodies to find the bar for a much needed drink.

You had donned a short black, hip hugging dress at the behest of the navigator and – while it's easy to pretend that you had agreed in innocence, you, and a certain brooding catboy that you’re fond of, definitely know better.

Spotting Zoro at the far reaches of the establishment, you make a beeline toward the side of the bar where he’ll certainly get a good look at all of you. Wrangling Nami along, you squeeze between a few patrons and order a round of drinks for the two of you, making quite sure to bend over the wooden bar enough for the swordsman to see just a glimpse of your panties – his favorite pair – on display.

You aren’t playing dumb – you know exactly what you’re asking for – and the short of it is: you’re ovulating, and he can smell it.

Zoro's ears perk up at the familiar scent that hits his nose as you enter the bar. The sweet, musky aroma of your arousal wafts through the air, igniting a primal hunger deep within him. His eyes narrow as they lock onto you, drinking in the sight of your curves hugged by that sinfully short dress.

A low, possessive growl rumbles in his chest as you bend over the bar, putting yourself on lewd display. The urge to claim you, to rut into your heat and fill you with his seed, surges through his veins. His tail lashes behind him, betraying the cool, collected visage that he was trying to maintain.

In one fluid motion, he rises from his seat and stalks towards you, his movements predatory and purposeful. The crowd parts before him, sensing the dangerous aura rolling off the swordsman in waves – the same aura that has you smirking into your drink.

Zoro's breath hitches as your scent grows stronger, the feral need to breed you consuming his every thought. His stride is long and purposeful as he approaches, the hungry look in his eyes promising wicked things.

He crowds into your space, one hand coming to rest possessively on your shoulder as he leans in close as he raises his lips to your ear. "Nice dress," he rumbles, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. "Shame about what's about to happen to it."

The swordsman's hand slides from your hip to hook an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his firm body. You can feel the heat of him even through your clothes, his scent enveloping you and making your head swim with desire.

"Someone's feeling bold tonight," you purr, feeling his sharp nails nip along the fabric of your dress. 

Zoro's grip on your hip tightens, his hardening length pressing insistently against your lower back. "You know exactly what you're doing," he grumbles, his hot breath fanning across your neck. His free hand slides up your side, skimming the curve of your breast before cupping the back of your neck. "Well, two can play at that game, princess."

In a flash, Zoro spins you around and over his shoulder, making you squeal in sudden excitement. His strong arms wrap around you as he carries you away, picking the first door he sees, beyond which you're a bit relieved to see a single stalled bathroom. 

Zoro kicks the door shut behind him before setting you down on the edge of the sink, never breaking eye contact. His hands grip your thighs, pushing them apart as he steps between them. 

One hand slides up your thigh, pushing your skirt up around your waist as he leans in to nip at your neck. "I'm going to make you scream my name until everyone in this bar knows who you belong to," he promises darkly. A claw slides up your thigh, and in an instant your dress is sliced down the sides and the fabric of your panties is cut through.

"So needy, huh?" You coo, reaching up to scratch behind the moss green tuft of his ear with sickeningly sweet abandon. “All over one little dress?”

Zoro replies with something between a scoff and growl – like he isn't in the mood for your teasing anymore and that he's going to do something about it. His eye flashes with a dangerous glint. "You're the one who decided to parade around looking like a snack," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with desire. "Don't act surprised when I decide to take a bite."

He means it, too – because a large, clawed hand tightens around the underside of your thigh and presses it to your chest as the other hastily rustles his cock free. There's no patience in his actions, as soon as the tip of his dick throbs at your entrance, Zoro is shoving it past your folds and deep into your soaked pussy. 

Your mouth falls open and your toes curl, a sharp moan of arousal leaving your lips as he sheathes himself within you so hungrily. Zoro releases your thigh places his hands firmly on the wall either side of your head as his hips piston into you at a rhythm of his own, trapping you between them.

Zoro's hips snap forward, driving his thick cock deeper into your tight heat. “Gonna fuck a runt or two into ya’, since thats what ya seem to want." he growls, his voice strained with pleasure. "Otherwise you wouldn’t be walkin’ around with your ass out.”

It feels like you're getting the wind knocked out of you, each stroke along your walls pulling enough of a hedonistic tune from your lungs to leave you breathless.

"F-fuck...," you gasp out and reach to grab hold onto his wrists, desperate for anything to keep you grounded.

"Shit, you're so tight," he groans, his head thrown back in ecstasy. "Gonna fill you up so good, make you feel so fucking full." Zoro's tail wraps around your thigh, the soft fur tickling your skin as he continues to pound into you mercilessly. His claws dig into your thighs, leaving deep, crescent-shaped marks in their wake.

He leans forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as his hips continue their relentless assault. His tongue invades your mouth, claiming you thoroughly as he fucks you senseless. His hips never stop moving, driving into you with a force that rattles the sink beneath you with each powerful thrust, the sound of your bodies slamming together drowning out the distant noise of the bar beyond.

You fidget a hand between the sweat of your bodies to find your clit, desperate but unable to keep up with Zoro's stamina. You gasp when he suddenly smacks your hand away with a feral growl down your throat before leaving your lips to nibble down your neck.

Zoro's teeth graze your skin, his sharp canines leaving a trail of stinging bites in their wake. "No touching," he barks, his voice a low, possessive rumble. "I'll take care of you."

He reaches between your bodies, his calloused fingers finding your swollen clit. He rubs the sensitive nub in tight, fast circles, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. "Gonna make you cum on my cock," he pants, his hips never faltering in their relentless rhythm. "Gonna feel so good when you squeeze around me."

Zoro works your clit with expert precision, the rough pads of his fingers sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your core. He can feel your walls fluttering around his throbbing cock, your body tensing as you climb higher and higher towards your peak.

“Fuck – I know it feels good, doesn’t it princess?" he growls, his hot breath fanning over your neck. "Made for my fucking cock, aren't you? Want me to give you a brat to prove it, right?"

"Yes!" You cry out, rolling your head back into his palm, "Show everyone I'm yours, Zoro, please!"

You feel your orgasm building, your body tensing as the pressure mounts. Zoro's fingers on your clit are relentless, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Fuck, Zoro, I'm–", your nails dig into his shoulders as your climax crashes over you. Your pussy clenches around his cock, your walls ripple and squeeze him into blind ecstasy, and the sound of you chanting – screaming his name takes him down with you.

He groans as your walls clamp down around him, your orgasm milking his cock. He bites down hard on your neck, his teeth sinking into your flesh. Zoro's hips stutter as the taste of your blood fills his mouth, the coppery tang mixing with the musky scent of your arousal. It's intoxicating, driving him to fuck into you with renewed vigor.

He pounds into you with wild ferocity, his cock throbbing and pulsing inside your fluttering walls. With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt and stills, his cock twitching as he floods your womb.

Zoro's body shudders as he empties himself inside you, his cock pulsing with each spurt of cum. He releases your shoulder from his teeth, licking the excess blood from his lips before he collapses against you.

His chest heaves as he catches his breath, his softening cock still buried inside your cum-filled pussy. He nuzzles into your neck, inhaling the scent of your arousal mixed with his own.

As Zoro's breathing calms, he slowly pulls out of your still quivering pussy. Zoro leans back slightly, admiring his handiwork for a moment as he watches his seed drip from your well-used hole and with a wicked grin, he scoops up the excess cum from your thighs and pushes it back inside, making sure every last drop is accounted for.

Can't waste that.

"There, that's better," he says with a satisfied smirk. "Now you're nice and full, just like I promised."

He helps you off the sink, steadying you on your wobbly legs. His hands roam over your curves, caressing your skin as he takes in the sight of you - disheveled, full, but stunning. You're a sight to behold - rosy cheeks, swollen lips, and a satisfied glow that radiates from within. With a final, possessive squeeze to your ass, Zoro steps back. 

"Should get you cleaned up, huh?"

Zoro reaches for some paper towels, wetting them under the sink before turning back to you. With a gentle touch that belies his earlier ferocity, he carefully cleans the wound on your shoulder, wiping away the remaining droplets of crimson that lay dry on down your chest.

Once you're cleaned up, Zoro helps you with your dress and lends you his robe, tying it tightly around you, his hands lingering perhaps a bit longer than necessary. He leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss before pulling slightly with another satisfied grin.

"Let's get out of here before someone comes looking for us," Zoro says, his voice low and husky. He takes your hand, intertwining your fingers with his as he leads you out of the bathroom.

As you step out into the dimly lit hallway, Zoro pulls you close, his arm wrapping around your waist possessively. He guides you in search of an exit through the still very much crowded bar, his grip on your waist firm and possessive. He keeps you close, as if afraid someone might try to steal you away.

Finally, you emerge into the cool night air, the bustle of the bar's patrons a distant memory. Zoro takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp air. He turns to you, his eye gleaming in the moonlight.

"Come on, let's get you back to the ship. Gotta put a real bandage on that bite." He leans down and scoops you into his arms. One of your hands comes to scratch behind his ears again lovingly, and he can’t resist leaning into more of your touch.

"Sorry about that, by the way." He adds as he follows your pointed finger in the direction of the docks. His voice, rough with exhaustion and satisfaction, comes with a soft purr in his chest that threatens to lull you to sleep there and then.

"Like you said," You reply, sleepily looking up at him with a smile and a small kiss to his shoulder. "It's what I wanted, right?"

[tangerinesmommy]

''Claim me, darling'' (2,5K Words Story)

A Submissive Tangerine x Fem!Reader Fic

⚠️WARNING/KINKS: NSWF, SMUT, SEX, HEAVY USE OF TERMS OF ENDEARMENTS, BEGGING, Protected sex, Good boy, slut, Mommy's toy, rough, riding, grinding, submissive man, dominant woman, mommy dom, praise, biting, hickeys, marking, aftercare⚠️

It was really loud. No surprise, you were at a fucking party. Music, drunk people, all sorts of dancing was on the agenda for tonight. With your margarita in one hand you sat at the bar just enjoying the turmoil. Somehow, this was your idea of fun. Seeing couples dancing- rather suggestively, seeing people flirt trying to find someone to make love to. Perhaps less lovemaking, more ‘fuck me, daddy’. 

‘Why is it never 'fuck me, mommy?’ You thought aloud.

‘Sorry, love. What did you say?’ You heard someone ask and you looked beside you to see a gorgeous, slutty, handsome looking man. Orange slicked back hair, styled to look a bit fluffy. Blue-greyish eyes, orange mustache. God, an orange mustache? Fuck His shirt was opened wide enough to see his, yet unmarked, neck, his prominent collar-bone and the beginning of his chest. Golden jewellery that fit his look. 

He certainly was a sight to look at. 

‘I was thinking out loud apparently. I said why is it never ‘fuck me, mommy’?’

‘Fuck me, mommy?’ He repeated with a chuckle, taking another sip of his drink, giving you a sly smile. ‘Ya know what, love? I’m with you on that. There should be more women taking charge in the bedroom.’ 

You blushed a bit, taking another sip of your margarita. He doesn’t exactly look like someone you’d assume to be submissive. But neither did he look like someone who said things without holding on to them. His statement made your pussy wet, your outer lips clenching around the air- desperate to feel something or more specifically someone inside you. 

He looked appetising and he seemed interested. You cleared your throat, chugged down the last sip of your margarita and got off your stool. 

‘…Listen, you don’t perhaps- like want to get out of here with me?’

‘Mhh.’ A smug expression on his face, a playful smile on his lips ‘I do like the sound of that, darling. Lead the way.’ He got off his stool and offered out his arm to you. His blue beautiful eyes following you. Oh, this was most definitely going to be a night to remember. You took his arm and intertwined it with yours as you walked out the door.

‘Right, I live right around the corner, so we can go back to mine.’ You explained already walking the way to your apartment.

‘Wait, don’t you want to get to know me first? I mean not to call you rude but I think I deserve some Introduction if you’re gonna expect me to beg for you, love’ he joked as he matched your pace while walking.

‘Mhh- you said lead the way and I’m doing just that, my dear.’ Terms of Endearments. 

Something you started using automatically when your mind was going into Mommy-Space. A space you sometimes couldn’t help yourself in, even if you wanted to. You were ready to make them submit, make them beg for more. You liked being rough with your partners, show them who’s in charge-  what if he didn’t like it rough? He was smiling and looking so precious. You felt bad at the thought of hurting him and quite frankly didn’t want to.

‘I’m Y/N. What about you?’

‘Tangerine. But you can call me whatever you want, I’m yours for tonight, darling.’

Fuck. ‘Well Tangerine.’ What a silly name, you thought. 'I don’t think you know what you're getting yourself into. I mean I’m really not that… gentle.’ It was important to voice your concerns before turning into the feral beast you could be when in that mode. 

‘Are you saying I can’t handle you?’ He asked mockingly. 

‘I’m just saying I can be intense and possessive almost.’ Your eyes locked with his and something in you happened. Somehow you could see he’s been through shit. There was very apparent pain in them. At the same time, he looked innocent. Like a good boy waiting for orders. You were most definitely too horny to think straight anymore.

‘Trust me darling, I’ve been in worse situations than having a woman take me however she wanted. I think I can handle ya’. Hearing him say that, reassured you. You both laughed, standing infront of the door as you opened it, with him never letting go of your arm as he waited patiently.

Entering the apartment you couldn’t help but press him against the wall. His breath catching in his throat but smiling as you grabbed his waist and met his lips with yours. Your other hand tracing his side, going to his neck, pressing your body closer to his and trapping him between the wall and you. With him moaning into your mouth as you did. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed you closer, and it was clear by now that this wasn’t his first time being pinned against a wall. Both of your tongues danced with eachother, kissing and making out ferociously. Moaning into eachother and grabbing each others body more and more. You grabbed him by the chin, giving yourself more access to to his neck. His breathing was growing ragged. But it was clear you both were hungry for eachother. He watched you, and your eyes locked as you pressed your lips against his neck. He held onto your hips firmly to steady himself. 

Leaving small little pecks across his neck and further opening up his shirt, you checked out his defined chest. You felt some healed up scars on it, as you roamed your hands across his chest. He was beautiful to you and you made sure to mention it, talking against his skin. 

‘God fucking… damn it’ you couldn’t help growl against him as you kept on kissing and nibbling, making him gasp in pleasure. ‘Tangerine dear, you- you’re so delicious.’ Both of you chuckled a bit but he was clearly enjoying your desire for him, your predatorish sort of touches. ‘So pretty… so enthralling.’ He moved his neck and gave you even more access, you noticed. ‘Good boy.’ You praised and sucked on his neck, ready to mark him as yours. ’You’re mommy’s good boy. Mommy’s little plaything, its all you want to be isn’t that right?’

Leaning more and more into your hand, whining at your touches he said it as sultry as anyone could have, ever with his thick northern British accent ‘please mommy, fuck me.’ 

You pulled away ever so slightly, grinning at him and taking him by the hand to lead him into your bedroom. As soon as you two arrived, you pushed him onto the bed, he landed with a soft thud. Shirtless and breathless as you left him, he grinned at you. Clearly admiring your body as you undressed. A couple of seconds passed and you were standing infront of him wearing your underwear and your bra. You noticed the tent in his pants, meaning his dick was getting hard. His eyes still following you, as you were crawling onto him.

‘If I do anything that crosses a line, you tell me stop and I will. You got that, Tangerine?. You’re safe with me, doesn’t matter if you’re on top or not. Okay?’

He nodded as you reassured him and although you noticed, you couldn’t help but tease him. Taking his wrists into your hand and raising them above his head, with him involuntarily arching into your touch. Leaning directly over him, you gave his lips another meaningful kiss before whispering into his ear. 

‘I own you for tonight, Tangerine.’

You kept on straddling him with his hard and aching dick rubbing against his pants and that rubbing against your crotch. You also added humping to the whole thing. Trying to make yourself cum and making him all the more desperate. 

You set the pace, you set the rhythm. Grazing your teeth against his neck and teasing him with nibbles. Praising him as you did. You couldn’t help yourself but call out his beauty. He was gorgeous, he was pretty, he was really slutty too, laying so helplessly beneath you. 

You kept on kissing and nibbling, even giving him a few bites- a few hickeys, which made him let out strangled moans. He was breathing heavily, his hair a lot messier than earlier. 

‘You’re such a pretty slut’ and he wriggled beneath you, squirming and whining. But he kept on arching into your touch and you kept on marking his body, grinding yourself against him. The friction you were creating plus with how much Tangerine was turning you on, got you to your orgasm rather quickly. You stopped and panted for a second, still straddling him, your palms pressed against his chest. 

‘uhm- Y/N..’ You looked down at him, your eyes locking with his. 

‘You ok?’ 

You had been hovering above him, locking eyes and straddling his lap the entire time. You let go of his chest, and sat up straight, still looking down at him. 

‘Yeah just one thing. Uhm-’ he laughed, also a bit breathless. ‘You promised me intense.’

You scoffed. 

‘you did not just say that.’

‘Oh but I’m pretty sure I did, darling. So…?’

‘So, so what? What do you want, I gave you a fucking hickey that’s worth something innit?’

‘Well darling I want you to take me, mark me up, claim me. Really- claim me. Make me yours.’

Your eyes widened. And you sat there motionless. How can anyone be so fuckable?

‘You heard me, mommy? Take me, claim me, make me yours.’

You got off of him and took no time removing his pants and boxers. Seeing how he had leaked precum and left a wet spot on his underwear. What a slut. You took a condom out your drawer and put it on his cock. It was sorta long and almost fully hard. Less girthy, but quite veiny, very well maintained. Trimmed hair that matched his perfect orange mustache colour-wise. He raised his wrists above his head for you again. 

‘Go rough on me, love. Please.’ He reassured and you took his word for it.  

You removed your own clothing and basically jumped on top of him, making him groan. You straddled him, this time pressing your knees into his sides. One hand of yours reaching over his head to grab his wrists again, the other one reaching to feel his cock. Taking it into your hand and god it was perfect to you. He bucked his hips as you stroked it a coupled of times. Positioning your slit right above his tip, you made sure to lock eyes with him again. ‘I want to hear you beg for me, darling. Tell mommy how much you want it.’ 

And he didn’t resist. ‘Please. P L E A S E. Claim me, Mommy. Please. Fuck me. Please.’

‘God, you’re being so good for me.’ And good boys deserve their rewards. You pushed yourself down his length. Feeling it twitch inside you. You were more than wet, having cum already. Tangerine certainly had his effects on you. You both groaned in unison as you started moving up and down. 

Once again you set the rhythm and he was doing his best, moving his hips with you. 

Both of you kept on breathing heavily and making sounds of pleasure. 

‘Good?’ You asked and he nodded ‘More than good, Mommy. More than good. Fuck. ’

You two kept on making out- sloppy, wet, passionate kisses, as you switched between grinding on him and riding softly. But his words ‘go rough on me’ kept on replaying in your mind. You pulled yourself up his full length and he made a small disappointed moan into your mouth. But he trusted you and you knew. 

You continued making out, when you- to his surprise, slammed down his cock. It made him yell out ’FUCK-‘, your kiss broke but your eyes locked. He was so aroused, so helpless, so desperate. 

‘You said you want mommy to go rough on you, didn’t you?’ You slid up his cock and slammed down really fast once more. Still pinning his strong arms. God he squirmed so much. But it didn’t matter-

‘You're not going anywhere Tangerine dearest. You’re mine, tonight. My little plaything. Mommy’s prey, mommy’s good boy. Mommy’s little slut.’

You continued grazing his neck with your lips and teeth. Switching between sucking, licking, kissing and biting it. While still slamming up and down his cock- finally picking up the pace. 

‘I- I I’m gonna cum soon if you’re gonna con-continue like that.’

‘Did I give you permission to?’

He whined ‘…no’

You were good at this. Being authoritative, stern and still so gentle.

‘No’ you shook your head. ‘Mommy did not. If you want to cum, you have to earn it. Beg me for it.’

‘Please. Fuck PLEASE please . I can’t hold on any longer- I, P LE A SE’

He screamed, whined, begged, his voice strained. You laughed mischievously. 

‘Fine, fine. Go on. You did well Tangerine, dearest. You can come for mommy.’’

Nodding furiously and repeating the words ‘thank you’, you slammed one last time before his body convulsed. You felt all of him shake as he came. Letting out a low guttural moan. 

You kept on cockwarming him for a few seconds while he panted, slowly letting go of his wrists and getting off of him. ‘Shh. You did good my darling.’ You kissed his flushed cheeks as he smiled at you. Closing his eyes- he was happy, blissed out and tired as fuck. His breathing still ragged. You pulled the condom off his cock and threw it in the trash bin.

‘You ok?’ You laid beside him and moved your hand through his messy hair. He was leaning into you. 

‘Thank you’ he whispered, chuckled and pressed his face into your chest. ‘You’re incredible, darling.’

‘Ha. I tried warning ya- but someone didn’t want to listen.’

He laughed, nodded and you felt it against your chest. You both snuggled close to eachother. Cuddling as you covered him and you with a blanket.

‘We can just chill for tonight, you’re welcome to stay with me.’

He put his arm around your waist, shifted in position and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

‘I think, I might fall in love with you.’ He joked as he kept drifting off to sleep. You kept on moving your hand through his hair. Soothing him and enjoying the peace. 

‘Happens, darling. It happens, haha.’ 

--- 🍊I Hope you guys enjoyed it :) Share, comment, like, cum to it haha!! See you next story 🍊---

[https-furina]

alhaitham 45 pls idk if ur event is still open for sugar and spice but 👀👀

✎ the books hold secrets untold.

ft. alhaitham x gn!reader

prompt: "if i kiss you right now, i won't be able to stop."

w.c. 607 words

content: fluff, secret relationship waahahahah, risky kisses in the house of daena, reader is a bit bold, acting grand sage! alhaitham

notes: my first completed alhaitham req for the event aaaa !! everybody clap for haitham for getting content from me /j i was minorly feral for this

the house of daena is pristine, it has been since before your creation - since before the creation of your own boyfriend, in all of his current glory as the acting grand sage of the akademiya. this title comes much to his distaste, it leaves a bitter sting on his tongue when he's made to utter it and he would grimace whenever someone referred to him as such. that's why it had became your favourite thing to shove in his direction half pointedly when you were tired of the level of sass that could come from the man's mouth sometimes.

and at this current time, he's drafting his resignation for the aforementioned position. he's much comfier in his role as the scribe, you can see that in the way he carries himself through the akademiya. you also see the way he's physically pained to sit in the incredulously large chair in the sage's office - after all, why the hell did it need to be that big? alhaitham makes a distressed noise as he runs a hand through silver strands of hair, his brows knitting together as he falls at his wit's ends trying to word his resignation to his liking. that is ultimately why you - as his loving partner - whisk away to hide in the bookshelves for a few minutes.

alhaitham has his reasons for keeping the relationship secret - one of them being that emotional, loud blond roommate of his - and so do you, so neither of you have qualms about the situation. even more so, it's a bit of fun adrenaline to spice up your otherwise bland life as a scholar. you're not entirely sure if alhaitham would agree with that. regardless of his opinion, he has your body trapped between himself and the bookshelves as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. alhaitham is by no means one for public displays of affection but he's starved, his fingertips twitching as they brush against the leather bound tomes behind you.

your hands run through his hair, sifting through the silver locks as you rub the pads of your fingers on his scalp in short, soothing motions. alhaitham doesn't make a sound - nothing out of the blue - but his breath hitches against your skin and a smile is drawn on your face at the small gesture. you press your lips to the soft of his hair, letting out a low hum.

"haitham," you mumble quietly, a whine eliciting from you when he pulls his head away, leaving your hands to fall to his shoulders, "kiss me."

you're a little short of demanding, your lower lip poking out as you give the emotionless male puppy eyes in an attempt to convince him. it's risky, the house of daena is a public library and the central hub for the akademiya's internal activities but you frankly don't care. you want alhaitham; his touch, his familiar scent, the taste on his lips. it seems to be a lingering thought for him as well as his eyes trace down to your lips.

"if i kiss you right now, i won't be able to stop." he's quite honest with his response - he's aware of his self restraint when it comes to anything regarding you.

you lean up with a wicked smile that alhaitham can only begin to wonder what it stemmed from, locking lips with the the scribe in a heated attempt at getting any form of closure. between soft pants for breath against each other's lips, alhaitham manages to hear your barely legible "then don't."

there are secrets that only the books know, stories that pages whisper in hushed tones.

© https-heizou 2023.