#ghost in the shell slaps

[trashbaby1996]

Tagged by @wetusb XOXO

do you make your bed? I try to

whats your favourite number? 6 & 4 but added together *but not 10

whats your job? Executive Assistant in Mental Health

If you could go back to school, would you? Yessss I am a forever student

can you parallel park? Not well

a job you had that would surprise people? Uh, i think ill my jobs check out but I did do a little biological pest control for 2 months

do you think aliens are real? Brah, there has to be life out there

can you drive a manual car? Never driven one

what’s your guilty pleasure? I love a little Say Yes to the Dress because it truly is a wild show.

tattoos? None (Yet)

favourite colour? Pinks, blues, and black.

favourite type of music? I do truly like all music but I do love electronic music.

do you like puzzles? I like puzzle point and click games. Physical puzzles are okay.

any phobias? I don't like parasites

favourite childhood sport? Uh, I liked volleyball

do you talk to yourself? All the time baby

what movies do you adore? Really love Videodrome and Reanimator. Love horror movies.

coffee or tea? Coffee!

first thing you wanted to be when you grew up? I wanted to be a vet.

No Pressure tags: @supernovajazzy @aberrant-critter @reaperduckling @sunswan and YOU

[posthumanwanderings]

70’s Robot Anime Geppy-X + Beats (Aroma - PS1 - 1999) song: [Dave Angel - So High]

[non-un-topo]

Ok through relistening to This Is My Idea I've learnt that the animated Anastasia sountrack isn't on Spotify??? I wanted to add At The Beginning to my JoeNicky playlist... Who is reponsible for this???

Adding this to my mental list of reasons I hate Spotify asdfgfdsa. They also never have the niche anime soundtracks I like?? What the fuck man

[screampied]

✩ㅤ cw. fem! reader, size difference, choking, size kinks, unprotected, dirty talk, praise, full nelson, mdni.

play fighting with suguru which later turns into him having you in a full nelson.

“awww, c’mon. don’t tap out on me now, sweetheart,” he purrs against the soft shell of your ear, hearing you sweetly gasp at the gaping barrage he creates with his thick cock. just a few moments ago—you were on top of him and now you were being stuffed full, legs dangling and weakly being held hostage while a beefy arm of his slings around your throat. your body collapses backward as you’re just idly bouncing on his lap, feeling each of his bulky muscles flex and twitch behind you. “biiiig stretch, fuck there we go. mhm, my baby’s all nice ‘n flexible.” he gruffs, peppering a few sultry kisses near the open curvature of your neck. you moan, feeling the secure grasp of his broad hands move from its original placement, gluing under the cracks of your thighs.

he’s got you in such a risqué position, your body continues to jostle against his, feeling his carved hard abs rub off against your skin. “ngh, suguru,” you squawk, and your hooded eyes peer down at yourself taking him in fully. his base had a pretty sheeny tan, resuming to pump in and out of you, already blissfully bottoming out. you felt him everywhere—and he’s just holding you upright with two burly arms, locking his arms under your plush pretty thighs. “ ‘m gonna cum again, fuck.”

with a husky snicker, he deepens his thrusts against you by moving his hands toward your rickety hips. a cunning simper spreads against his lips before he ghosts a few silvery slick fingers down your sopping wet slit. “well yeah, with a weak pussy like this, bet you are. you poor thing.”

your jaw couldn’t help but loosely hang itself open as he’s just ruthlessly lodged inside of your cunt, creeping a swollen fat thumb near your puffy hood to toy and flick with it some more.

his touch to you was like electricity, and you were very much on the verge of breaking. he was so thick — insanely thick, geto’s pearly poking crownhead mercilessly drags in and out of your pasty walls and you recognize the delicious curve of his dick all too well.

your moans grow even louder, so loud that it’s bouncing against the paper thin walls whilst the sharp slaps of skin create shivers all throughout your body. “fuck, more. put me in a chokehold, sugu.”

“dirty girl,” he grunts, his hefty base starting to slather up with sappy juices from your slick heat. a big brawny arm curls around your neck again and he presses a chaste kiss toward your cheek.

“my, you really shouldn’t say such things, y’know,” and as you’re still taking his cock, you feel his free hand grab near one of your breasts. he gives it a nice squeeze before focusing his attention back towards your neck, hearing your cute exasperated gasps. licking against your ear, he lowly whispers, making you slightly turn your neck to face his feral sly eyes. “i could just snap you in half if i really wanted to. all i gotta do ‘s jus add a little pressure like this ‘n . . my doll’s gonna be all broken and we can’t have that, huh.”

sweet sweet whimpers spill from your lips as his arm still remains wrapped around your throat. he makes sure it’s a safe hold, giving you a few frisky squeezes here and there just to hear you whine for more.

he’s so beefy. through your glossy doe peripherals, you could visibly see his veins pop out through his skin. you felt your pussy throb once you start to imagine all the times he goes to the gym alone, all the times he’s lifting weights.

if anything though, you wanted him to be lifting you instead.

“nothin’ to say? aw, pity,” his gravelly voice lowers, and you’re brought back to harsh reality once his palm swats against your ass. you bite down on your tongue in attempt to suppress your incoming lewd whimper but it still comes out. “fuck, always so warm f’ me, god,” and his grip against your neck loosens. the pits of your tummy tense and coil up as your clammy thighs continue to tweak and spasm from his sharp thrusts. so deep. every few seconds, he’d pull your legs up or drag them further apart just to hear you gasp.

you’re almost marveled by the fact that such an obscene position even exists. your legs could barely stand and if it wasn’t for the help of his hands, you’d be screwed.

“s- sugu—ah!” you whine, feeling his bulbous head ram its way against your convulsing g-spot. he knows that spot like the back of his hand, the cute bumpy texture that never fails to present himself around his angered tip. shaggy long tresses of black hair tickle near the nape of your neck as you fall back. “fuck fuck fuuuck,” you loudly snivel, digging your nails into his meaty thigh. once he hits it, he keeps hitting it until your cute voice strains itself out. he’s still practically got you folded as you’re trying to ride out your euphoric orgasm. the bed devastatingly dips inward from the crushing masses of weight piling on top of it.

“there we go, that’s my sloppy girl,” he coos in a raspy tone. geto’s pitching his voice against your ear as he speaks and oh, his words a mere raunchy whisper. he hears your talkative cunt squelch out, faint strings of syrupy slick forming a little plash around his weighty base. geto holds your hips firmly, showering the crook of your neck with a plethora of balmy kisses as your body ruts and shakes.

“good girl, listen to how nasty you always sound for me,” he hums, sneaking his stubby fingers back down towards your weeping wet cunt, maneuvering a few circles near your drooling slit. “i know, i know,” he talks over your enraptured shrills, and he then gives your pussy a patting spank. you moan, falling back against his sweaty chest and a trail of his curly chest hair titillates against the center of your back. “this is a lot more fun then wrestling, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

“y- yeah,” you swallow, and he teasingly wraps a stocky bicep around your neck again. he’s still merrily buried inside of your gummy walls, feeling you writhe around his lap and he chuckles. you’re panting, full lungs desperately trying to gather up any amounts of air that it could before you exhale. “again, sugu.”

with a purring hum, he lifts you back up, trying to pull your leg over your shoulder. “hm, fine. but keep up. ‘m not gonna go easy on ya this time,” and he gives your dribbling sensitive clit another playful pat. “and ‘m certainly not gonna go easy on her either. but, i’ll try not to break you too bad this time princess, no promises.”

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

Food for thought: imagine lion!mydei with a prey reader!!! Yk, toss in some dub con and predator/ prey dynamics 🤭. Oh, the way us floofy ears would twitch and his tail would wrap around your leg!!

I'm absolutely convinced mydei is 10000% mean man when it's between the sheets.

Have a good day/night <3. I rlly luv your works and what's your secret to writing rlly good smut? Teach me your ways professor!

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 warnings : nsfw/smut, bunny fem!reader, creampie, multiple of rounds, spanking, size kink, breeding kink, biting, huge dubcon alert, multiple of orgasms and tit slapping and other stuff. ^.^

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 note : tysm! i’m glad you enjoyed my writing sweetie. And I don’t really have a secret lmao! i’ve been writing long stories ever since I was 11. also reader is implied to be chubby and curvy! also not proof read (as always).

The forest was quiet. Too quiet.

You should have noticed it earlier—the way the birds had stopped singing, the way the wind had died down as if holding its breath. But you were a bunny, and a very stupid one at that. Soft and slow and terribly, terribly unaware.

That was why you didn’t realize you were being hunted until it was far too late.

A branch cracked. Your ears twitched, your breath hitched, and then—

A massive force slammed into you from behind, knocking you down into the dirt. Your heart pounded as you scrambled to flee, but it was useless. Large, clawed hands pinned you down, pressing your softer, squishier body into the earth. A deep, rumbling growl ghosted over the shell of your ear, and your instincts screamed.

Predator.

Your body locked up in fear, trembling beneath the sheer weight of the beast above you. You had heard the stories of the lion-king before—the ruthless ruler of the wilds, the monster who tore through his prey with teeth and claw. And yet, when he dipped his head, sniffing along the side of your neck, he didn’t bite.

He inhaled. Deeply.

And then, to your absolute horror, he groaned.

“Fuck,” the lion rumbled, his voice thick, heated, laced with something primal. His heavy tail coiled around your thigh, holding you in place. His hips rolled against yours, and you felt it—the thick, hard shape of him pressing against your ass. “You smell too sweet to eat, little rabbit.”

His tongue flicked out, running a slow, wet trail up your throat. You shuddered, trying to shrink away, but his hands only gripped you tighter, claws grazing against your skin.

“You’re lucky,” Mydei murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’m hungry for something else.”

Your breath hitched when he grinded against you again, slow and deliberate, letting you feel just how big he was. Your body betrayed you, heat pooling low in your belly despite the fear still prickling at your spine. His hand moved, fingers dragging down your stomach, teasing at the plush softness there before dipping lower.

“Gonna ruin this dumb little bunny cunt,” he growled. “Make you scream for me.”

You whimpered, but there was no escape.

The lion had caught his prey. And he wasn’t letting go.

A rough hand forced your back into an arch, making you whimper as your ass lifted higher. Mydei chuckled, low and dark, his heavy tail coiling tighter around your plush thigh. The fur was deceptively soft against your skin, a contrast to the ruthless grip he had on you.

“Look at this,” he murmured, his large palm sliding over your hips, groping the softest parts of you like he was testing his prize. “Built to be fucked. You were never meant to run, little thing—just to be caught.”

A sharp smack landed across your ass. You yelped, lurching forward, but he dragged you back with ease. Another slap—harder this time—sent a hot sting rippling through your body, making your legs twitch. Your fluffy tail twitched too, betraying you, and he laughed.

“Sensitive,” he mused, palming your sore flesh before delivering another punishing slap. “You get wet from this, don’t you?”

You shook your head, ears flopping as you whimpered, but you both knew the truth. His fingers slid lower, past the heat pooling between your thighs, and—fuck—he found you already slick.

“Stupid little thing,” he purred, rubbing slow, teasing circles against your clit. “What kind of prey gets wet for their predator?”

You gasped as he slid a thick finger into you, then another, stretching you open in cruel, lazy strokes. Your walls fluttered, trying to take him deeper, trying to milk something that wasn’t even inside you yet. Mydei groaned, nosing against the base of your fluffy ears, dragging his teeth lightly along them.

“Bet you’ll take my cock just as easy,” he murmured. “Gonna make you mine. Stuff you so full, you’ll never be able to run again.”

Your thighs trembled as he pulled his fingers away, leaving you empty and aching. Then—something hotter, heavier, pressed against your entrance. You gasped at the sheer size of it, instinct screaming again, but his tail tightened around your thigh, holding you still.

“You’re made for this,” Mydei rasped, rubbing the thick head of his cock against your slick folds. “Made to take my seed, to be bred nice and full.”

He thrust in, stretching your pussy open, forcing a ragged cry from your throat. Your fingers clawed at the dirt, your ears pressing flat against your head as your walls clenched around him, trying to adjust to the sheer size of him.

"That’s it," he groaned, his grip on your hips bruising. “Gonna make you all mine, little thing.”

And with another rough thrust, he set a brutal, unrelenting pace.

Each thrust was brutal, knocking you forward only for Mydei to yank you back onto his cock, forcing you to take him deep. Your plush thighs shook, your body burning with overstimulation, but he didn’t let up.

“Ngh—too much—” you gasped, voice breaking between ragged moans. Your ears twitched wildly with each slam of his hips, your tail fluffing up in distress.

“Too much?” Mydei echoed, voice dripping with mockery. His claws dragged down your sides before settling on your tits, gripping them roughly, squeezing the soft flesh between his fingers. “You’re dripping all over my cock, little thing. You love this.”

You whined as he pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers before slapping your tits, making them bounce from the impact. Your body betrayed you—each slap sent a fresh pulse of heat straight to your core, making your walls clamp down even tighter around him.

"Fuck," he growled, his tail curling possessively around your thigh. “Look at you. Dumb little prey, taking my cock so well. Taking it like you were made for it.”

Your arms gave out, leaving you to slump forward onto your elbows, tits pressing into the dirt. Mydei loomed over you, his golden mane brushing against your back as he fucked you harder, deeper, his breath hot against your nape.

"You’re mine," he groaned, one clawed hand gripping the back of your neck, keeping you in place. "Say it."

You could barely think, barely breathe, pleasure crashing over you in waves. His cock was splitting you open, dragging against your walls in a way that had your stomach twisting in knots. Making your ears flattened as your tail fluffed up.

“Mydei—“ you whimpered.

His hips snapped forward, making you scream.

“Say it.”

“I—I'm yours!” you sobbed, voice breaking into a desperate wail. “Yours—your prey—your—ahhh!”

His teeth sank into the side of your throat, claiming you fully, and your vision went white as you came hard around his cock, your walls milking him greedily.

“Good fucking girl,” he snarled, his thrusts turning erratic. His hands clamped down on your hips, holding you still as he drove into you one last time, pressing himself deep.

Heat flooded your insides as he spilled inside you, thick and so much—your already-sensitive body trembled as you felt it seep even deeper. His cock throbbed, pumping more and more into you, and Mydei let out a pleased growl, licking over the fresh bite mark on your throat.

“Mine,” he murmured again, his hands smoothing over your plush body, possessive and satisfied. “And now… you're bred.”

His tail remained wrapped around your thigh, keeping you close.

You weren’t going anywhere.

Your body trembled beneath him, overstimulated and wrecked, but Mydei wasn’t done with you. His cock still twitched inside your soaked, swollen cunt, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he shifted his weight over you. His tail curled tighter around your thigh, keeping you spread open, forcing you to take every last drop of his seed.

“You look so fucked-out already,” he murmured, one large hand smoothing down your spine before gripping your hips again. “But I’m not done with you yet, little prey.”

You shivered as his hand ghosted lower, spreading your ass to watch his cum leak out of you. He groaned at the sight, his claws digging into your plush flesh. “Already dripping, and I haven’t even knotted you yet.”

Your ears twitched weakly, your breathing still ragged as you turned your head to look back at him. Your wide, dazed eyes shimmered in the dim light, glassy and unfocused—doe-eyed and utterly lost. Mydei sucked in a sharp breath, his cock throbbing at the way you gazed up at him, helpless and ruined.

“Fuck,” he growled. His hand suddenly snaked around your waist, dragging you up off the dirt. You gasped as he pulled you flush against his chest, your legs barely able to hold you up as his cock throbbed deep inside your cunt.

“You’re looking at me like you still don’t get it,” he murmured against your ear. His palm slid up your soft belly before grabbing your tits, squeezing, toying with the sensitive flesh. “You thought I’d stop after one round? Thought I’d just let you go?”

You whined, jolting as he suddenly slapped your tits, making them bounce under his grip. Your whole body jiggled from the impact, heat blooming across your skin, and Mydei “groaned” as his cock twitched inside you.

“You’re mine,” he rasped, rolling your hard nipples between his fingers before giving another sharp slap to your tits, watching them jiggle in his grasp. “Mine to fuck, mine to fill—“

His other hand suddenly slammed against your lower belly, pressing down right where his cock stretched you open. You gasped, your walls fluttering around him as he chuckled darkly.

“Feel that?” he purred. “Right here. My cock, stuffing you so full.”

You sobbed, your hips twitching as he began grinding against your overstimulated clit, pressing down on your belly with every slow, deep thrust.

“Too much—Mydei, please—”

“Please?” he mocked, nosing along your flushed cheek. “Please what, little prey? Please keep fucking you? Please breed you again?"

Your mind was fogged with pleasure, your body trembling in his grasp, but you still managed to choke out a desperate, ruined—

“Yes!”

Mydei snapped.

His tail tightened around your thigh as he slammed you back onto his cock, spearing you open, making your tits bounce wildly with each punishing thrust. You could do nothing but whimper, drool spilling from your lips as your walls spasmed around him, milking him for more.

“Fuck—you’re perfect,” he groaned, licking over your ear before biting down on your shoulder, claiming you. “Gonna fill you up again. Gonna knot you—make sure my seed takes—“

You let out a choked cry as he pressed his palm against your belly again, feeling himself inside you, knowing he was going to breed you until you couldn’t take anymore.

Until you were nothing but his.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[shariasweet]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ 𝓢ay i𝓣

optional bias 𝒙 f.reader

𝓦c ::: est -1k 𐙚 𝓢harinote ::: i've neglected you all </3 hopefully I can sort of lock in and get these reqs out, definitely a drabble or two 𐙚 warnin𝓰.ᐟ ::: manhandling · degradtion (?) dfinite praise + aftercare (wow!) · piv · unprotected sex (wrap it uppp) · hair pulling (heartbreak emote) · pet-names · choking · mentions of spit/drooling · dumbification · angel girl spin off ??? · f.ᐟreader

"yeah? what about you, baby... you like being fucked full of my cock, don't you?"

you let out nothing but broken, incoherent babbles, drool spilling from your bruised lips.

"what's that, sweet girl? can't hear you, pretty..."

your boyfriend kept drilling into you from behind, one arm wrapped tight around your neck, dragging you upright until your back was flush against his chest.

"go on, tell me. tell me you like it when i fuck you like this... dumb little bunny loves being used like a cocksleeve, huh?"

you nodded frantically, words slurring out between hiccups and moans.

"mmf! ngh—ah! i-i love it..!" you choked, tears brimming in your eyes as your voice cracked from the force of his hips snapping into your aching, hot cunt.

"i know, baby... i know."

he slammed you back down into the mattress, one hand closing around your throat while the other pressed firm between your shoulder blades—forcing your back into an impossibly deeper arch.

"such a good girl..." he groaned, cock dragging deep through your soaked, fluttering walls. "'take me so well, don't you, baby?"

slick pooled at the base of his cock, dripping down your thighs as his tip kissed fervently at your cervix with each thrust.

"o-oh fuckkk! s'deep..." you whined, voice hoarse and wrecked. your eyes crossed, you could feel his bulge poking into your tummy. "yeah? 'gonna cum f'me?" a slap landed firmly onto your ass, the sore, red flesh reverberating around his palm.

all he got in response was a dumb nod.

"what's t-that supposed to mean?" his hands carefully trailed teasingly up your spine, fingers curling into the roots of your hair before yanking you back. hard.

"I already told you, sweet girl..."

"speak. to. me." each word was punctuated by another sharp thrust, the knot in your stomach being forcefully undone as you slipped one pornographic moan after the other out.

"s-shit!!! ye-ngh..! mpf, yes, yes, yes! i'm going to cum ___!"

tears seared down your cheeks—pleasure crashing over you in tall waves as he fucked you through your high. "cum, baby... cream all over my cock." he grunted, "make a mess, y/n."

and of course, you did... sultry gasps leaving your mouth as you twitched beneath him—his orgasm following yours soon after as sticky white cum leaked from your cunt.

(aftercare because this was rough and rushed!)

“'you okay, baby?”

his lips ghosted over your spine—the same lips that’d fucked you dumb just minutes ago now soothed kisses into your skin like apologies.

you nodded, slowly with heavy eyes. “mmhmm…”

but he didn’t move, still laying his weight on top of you.

“i need to hear you say it,” he murmured. his voice stern against the shell of your ear. “c'mon." he chirped. "was it good...? did i take care of you?”

you blinked up at him, coi—lashes still dampened by pleasured tears, lips swollen, chin sticky with drying spit. “yes,” you whispered, “i’m okay. 'pinky promise, baby.”

he let out a soft breath, as though he’d been holding it.

his hand smoothed over your side, pulling you in closer to his chest. “you were so good for me,” he said, so softly it made your chest ache... the same hand that'd yanked your hair was now petting it gently—tucking loose strands as he admired you. “fuck, baby… my perfect girl.”

he'd cleaned you up gently with a warm towel, whispering little praises between each kiss to your skin as the two of you shared small glances and cute, little laughs.

“my girl,” he mumbled, lips planted slack against your temple. “all mine.”

"all yours."

kang taehyun: choi yeonjun: park jjongseong: lee heeseung: park seonghwa: na jaemin: chenle: leehan: whoever else :3

[cameronsprincess]

IM BACK I DONT KNOW IF IM ALLOWED TO REQUEST TWO FOR UR 5K CELEBRATION but can u do a smut with rafe where he does the bull rider position and reader FLIPS the fuck out LMAO

let me just say… if a man tried this shit with me he’d end up choking on his teeth once i got him off me🤠

CW: smut! 18+ only! strong language, bull rider position (really just doggy but the bull rider name has a meaning behind it lmaooo), piv sex, rafe is a diiiick for this😭 slightly angsty? idk.

all 5k moodboards/blurbs here!

“oh god, rafe! don’t… don’t stop, fuck!”

rafe picks up his pace, his hands tightly gripping at your hips as he brutally pounds himself inside you. your pussy clenches around him, squeezing at his dick tightly. rafe loosened his grip on your hips, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, squeezing as he leans forward, pressing his front against your back.

you feel the warmth of his breath against your neck, his lips ghosting across the shell of your ear. he slows his pace, pulling his cock out of you until only the tip is left inside, forcefully slamming himself forward. you suck in a sharp breath, so close to the edge you could scream. rafe nips at the lobe of your ear, repeating his actions before his raspy voice flows through your ears.

“your best friend fucks better than you…”

the words slam into your head, anger rushing through your veins as rafe squeezes his arms tighter around you, laughing as you buck and fight, trying to push him off you.

“what the fuck did you just say?” you buck, your arms flying behind you and gripping at his arm, nails digging into the skin as you try and pry him off you.

rafe continues laughing, picking up the pace of his hips again, the head of his dick repeatedly hitting at that spot inside you that had your toes curling and knocking the breath out of you, but you’re too angry to even think of the pleasure he’s bringing you right now. you want him off of you. now.

“oh c’mon, baby. stop fightin’ me, cum on my cock like the good girl you are.. ‘m so close, you still want me to fill this pussy up with my cum?”

you claw at his arm, bucking your entire body as you try and fight him off of you, but it’s no use, rafe is too strong, and his grip around your waist tightens with each thrash of your body. you’ve been with rafe for six months, and he’s never once pushed you the way he just did. when did him and your best friend even fuck? did he mean what he said?

red, hot anger flashes through you again. gathering your strength, you begin to fight him harder, needing him to get the hell off of you.

“rafe! i’m so fucking serious if you don’t get the fuck off of me, i will fucking kill you!”

rafe’s laughter fills the room, making the anger you feel grow. he thinks this is funny?

“stop fighting, baby. you’re turning me on, i love it when you’re angry.”

tears fill your eyes as you continue to fight him, pushing, bucking, clawing, doing anything you can to get him off. finally, you dig your nails into his forearm, making him loosen his hold just enough for you to shove him off of you. you scramble off the bed, quickly grabbing his oversized t-shirt off the ground and tossing it over your head. you cross your arms over your chest, eyes narrowed as you face him.

he has an amused smirk on his face, his tongue pressing into his cheek.

“oh don’t look at me like that, baby..” he says, placing his large hands on his thighs as he levels you with his own glare.

you scoff. “you said my best friend fucks better than me. while you were fucking me! what the fuck is your problem?!” you shout, stepping toward him and slapping him across the face.

rafe’s head whips to the side, a low laugh escaping him as he slowly turns his head to face you again. he stands from the bed, and you shrink into yourself a little, shaking your head at how ridiculous you look, you’re not afraid of him. you stand straight, stepping into his body, your chest brushing against his.

“god you’re so sexy when you’re mad.”

you lift your hand to slap him again, but he catches your wrist mid-air, holding it in place and squeezing. you wince at the pain, but you don’t back down.

“fuck. you. rafe.” you say slowly, trying to jerk your hand from his hold.

he pulls you into him, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you tight. he runs a hand down the back of your head, placing a kiss to the top of it before he says, “baby, it was a joke. i haven’t fucked your best friend, i just..” he stops, laughing as he tries to explain. “i just saw some shit online and wanted to try it out, wanted to see how much of a fight you’d put up.”

you gasp, trying to pull out of his hold, but he squeezes you tighter, not allowing you to pull away from him.

“i’m sorry baby, i shouldn’t have done it, but goddamn you’re so sexy when you fight me. your anger turns me on.”

you fight against him again, not wanting him to touch you. joke or not, it’s still fucked up and you’re so pissed at him you just want him to leave you alone for now.

“that’s not fuckin’ funny, rafe! i’m so fucking mad at you right now! i don’t even want you around me! let me go!” you shout, tears filling your eyes as you try and fight out of his hold.

rafe releases you, allowing you to step back. his face softens when he sees the unshed tears filling your beautiful eyes. “i’m sorry baby, i shouldn’t have done it, my fault.”

you roll your eyes. “your apology means shit to me right now.”

rafe sighs, grabbing his boxers off the ground and sliding them on. he tries to step toward you, but you take a step back, shaking your head. “no. you should go. i’ll call you later.”

“baby-”

you throw your hand up, stopping whatever he had to say. “no, rafe! i’m serious just fucking go! i’ll call you later once i’ve calmed down.”

rafe runs a hand through his messy hair, quickly getting dressed before he grabs his phone and moves to leave. he faces you one final time, opening his mouth to say something but ultimately deciding against it. you stand in the middle of your room, watching as he walks out.

tagging some moots: @starkeysbabygirl @starkeysprincess @rafesthroatbaby @oceandriveab @httpsdrewstarkey @drewsephrry @babygorewhore @bloodibambiidoll @rafeyscurtainbangs

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Ford x fem!reader x Stan

minors dni

Stan’s grip on you tightens, pulling you against his frame as he crashes his lips against yours. There’s no hesitation, just raw, impatient hunger, the kind of kiss that takes your breath away and leaves you wanting more. His hands roam with a boldness that leaves no room for doubt, fingers digging into your hips as if claiming you.

From behind, Ford’s approach is way softer. His lips ghost along the curve of your neck, pressing tender slow kisses to your skin. Such contrast between them makes you dizzy, overwhelmed by the intensity of their touches. You groan softly, caught in the heat of it all, and instinctively lean back into Ford’s embrace. There Stan's face visibly frowns.

Stan pulls back just enough to mutter, “Don't let him think he's in charge here.” his tone is rough, tinged with jealousy, his hand slides over your side, possessive and demanding as if trying to take you away from his twin.

Before you can respond, Ford’s voice cuts through, quiet but confident. “She can decide for herself, Stan,” he murmurs, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, sending a shiver through you. “can’t you, darling?”

The tension between the brothers is palpable, but so is the way their hands explore your body. Stan’s touch is firm, always a little too eager, while Ford’s fingers trail gently over your skin, savoring every inch. They both can’t get enough of you. Stan’s lips crash back into yours, but Ford’s kisses never stop, his mouth pressing slow, sensual kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck, you literally melt between them. 

A loud moan escapes your lips when Stan's hand slaps your butt, you sob from a little pain and feel Ford's body tense behind you as he glares at his brother. “What? Are you trying to make me look bad?” Stan huffs.

Ford smirks softly, nipping at your skin gently before whispering, “no? Im just appreciating how beautiful she is.” his touch is feather-light, contrasting with Stan’s more possessive grip. “and I'm trying to please her, Stanley, not hurt her."

“Yeah? well, I’d like to appreciate her too,” Stan bites out, jealousy bubbling inside him. “don’t forget who’s been here longer.” he murmurs into your mouth and leans in again, capturing your lips.

You whimper softly, overwhelmed by their attention, your face all flushed as you try to hold yourself. Both men vying for your attention. Ford smiles against your skin. “Good girl,” he praises softly.

Stan, at the exact same time, mutters, “Atta girl.”

They both fall silent as their words intersect in the most unexpected way. They pull away, looking at each other over your shoulder, realizing what just happened. There's an awkward silence for a moment, but then Stan huffs in annoyance, his grip on your waist tightening. “Seriously? you gotta steal my lines now?”

Ford, always calm, arches an eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth twitches in a smirk. “Didn’t realize praise was trademarked,” he remarks dryly.

You laugh softly, but the sound breathy from arousal. "Are you really arguing about this right now?” you ask them, needing their attention and kisses so badly, you don’t want that to stop.

Stan shoots a half-grin your way, nodding. “You better believe it, sweetie. I’m not lettin’ this nerd outdo me.”

Ford still remains calm and patient, although his hand slides up, cupping your chin, gently turning your face towards him. “Outdo you? Stan, we’re not in a competition.” his lips gently touch yours as he murmurs, “we’re both making her feel good.”

Stan’s cocky grin widens, and he leans in, his voice rough as he rests his hands on your thighs. “Speak for yourself, i think she likes me better.”

Ford chuckles smoothly, rolling his eyes and pressing another kiss to your shoulder, his breath tickles your skin pleasantly. “Is that so? Why don’t we let her tell us herself?”

Your heart pounds, your body burns at their touch and it takes your breath away when their eyes focus solely on you, waiting, watching. “I. . . I like both of you,” you admit breathlessly. “please, just- just continue, I need you both.”

Stan’s eyes light up, his fingers slide lower, his thumb brushing teasingly along your hip. “That’s my girl.”

Ford’s touch remains soft still, his lips pressing a delicate kiss to your neck as he murmurs against your skin, “You’re perfect, darling.”

[shalomniscient]

arlecchino with a flirty s/o but with a twist :3, Arlecchino gets fed up with it and fucks her until she can’t think straight :33

ouhhhh anon……….. i’m about to be so deranged—

cw. rough sex, breeding, overstimulation, dacryphilia, degradation (slut, whore), belly bulge

“still want to run that mouth of yours, darling?”

arlecchino’s voice is a haughty sneer from behind you as she keeps you face down in the pillows with a firm hand on your neck, while the other holds your hips up and in place for her to ruthlessly ram her cock in and out of your sopping cunt. you can only manage choked whimpers and moans as each vicious drive of her hips fills you up to the brim, her thick cock forcing your tight walls to open around her.

she’s wrung so many orgasms from you at this point, your thighs slick and glossy with your own cum. there’s a wet spot on the bed from where it’s trickled down your legs and from when she made you squirt. you don’t even remember how long ago that was. your body feels like a raw nerve—each touch she gives you burns like fire but you just can’t get enough.

“arle, m-more, please—“ you beg, and she scoffs, drawing back until only the tip remains inside before slamming forward, filling you brutally. it forces a howl of pleasure from your throat, and she tightens her grip on your neck.

“tch, such a greedy slut, aren’t you?” she growls, leaning down to whisper the words in your ear. her teeth scrape the shell of your ear and you shiver at the sensation. “always so desperate for a cock to fill you up, hm? was that why you felt the need to throw yourself at those men?”

you whine, doing your best to shake your head, though it’s difficult with the way she’s forcing you down against the sheets. she loosens her grip a little and stills her hips, giving you some respite for a moment.

“no?” she asks, with faux curiousity, and you don’t have to look at her to know that her lip is curled up into a look of disapproval. “are you sure?”

“don’t want theirs,” you manage to gasp out meekly, turning your head to look into her eyes. they’re dark, dangerous, but you find yourself drawn into them all the same. “jus’ want yours.”

arlecchino stills, but then the hand on your nape tightens and she’s shoving you even deeper into the sheets, and rutting into you like never before. her cock bullies your g-spot with each thrust of her hips. she grunts as your cunt tightens even more around her length, and the hand on your hip travels lower to your belly, feeling the way her dick makes your stomach swell ever so slightly before going down to your clit to rub harsh circles on the stiff nub.

“fuck, baby— wanted this cock so bad, hm?” she growls into your ear, “my pretty little whore.”

“y-yours!” you cry, fat tears starting to well in your eyes as your brain turns to mush in your skull with each drive of arlecchino’s hips. her front slaps against your ass, the sound of skin against skin ringing out around the room. anyone unfortunate enough to be walking by would surely know what was happening.

arlecchino grins at the sight of your glossy eyes, and in a brief moment of affection presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “shh, baby, just take it, yeah? such a good whore for me.”

you sink your teeth into the sheets below you, feeling the coil in your core wind tighter and tighter. arlecchino grunts above you, her relentless rhythm faltering, and you know she’s close. broken pleas for more and of her name slip from your lips, and it makes her shudder, jaw clenching.

“you’re mine, sweet thing,” she snarls, ghosting her teeth along the slope of your shoulder. “mine, only mine. ‘m gonna mark you from the inside with my cum, breed you full of my baby, hm?”

the thought flashes across your mind like a lightning bolt—a vision of yourself round and swollen with her child—and the coil in your core snaps. you cum with a scream, cunt clenching so tightly you nearly force arlecchino out as you squirt for a second time. arlecchino hisses, hips stuttering before she plants herself as deep as she can go and spills into you. you feel her release fill up ever corner of your cunt and even press against your womb.

you must have blacked out because when you come to again, you’re lying on your side with arlecchino next to you, panting, still buried balls-deep inside you. she presses soft kisses against the back of your neck, while her hand strokes your belly, over the bulge she forms in your stomach.

“my sweet girl,” she mumbles. “my love, my wife…” she whispers sweet words into your ear, gentle praises a far cry from how she’d fucked you just before. “you did well. rest, now. i’ll take care of you.”

[syoddeye]

Price as Davy Jones from POTC. Comes back every ten years to track down reader no matter where they are

the timing of this ask is bananas, because i was just discussing a similar premise with friends. (except davy jones!ghost, purely to describe him prying a barnacle off of his face and eating it in front of reader.) but this works so well with price, too.

prefacing this by admitting I haven't watched any potc movies since they came out. so this is based on what i remember, and we're going to be forgiving lol. this spun out into 1.9k.

cw: implied/referenced noncon/rape, body horror, stabbing/shooting/violence in general, implied/referenced breeding, largely unedited all vibes no brakes.

Clinging to a scrap of what was once a passenger ship, choking on smoke and seawater, you whimper as bits of wreckage and bodies bob around you, lifeless limbs brushing against your legs.

The wreckage still burns, providing just enough light to keep the nightmare well within sight. You see too much: the ship’s carcass, curious dark shadows, a woman in the distance gradually being sucked beneath the surface, her dress pulling taut like an anchor.

You barely register the ship until you hear the whipping of its sails.

Its silhouette is monstrous. A ghastly thing, every bit of it disfigured by time and violence. Its lights blur in your salt-stung eyes, and you blink hard, certain it isn't real. It's a hallucination, a cruel trick of exhaustion.

Yet, it is instinct to call out, to raise your voice. A very human thing, the desire to survive.

Minutes pass, and you're sure that your voice is lost among the waves, but the slap of a dinghy hitting water jars you. Voices call out, searching. Hope stirs in your chest, but as the small boat nears, its crew shoving wreckage and bodies aside, you see the figure at its bow.

A man. Not a man.

A lantern swings in a fist. Light and shadow spill across the figure. Wet skin like pale wax, cloudy eyes set beneath a furrowed brow—and that is where his humanity ends. 

Protruding from his beard, claws arc from his face, ridged and brown like a crab's shell, melding seamlessly into the flesh of his jaw and temples. His lips, blackened and peeling, purse together in a line. A line that slowly tips upward in its corners as your eyes grow wider and wider.

A scream works its way up your throat, but it sticks. The last thing you see is his hand, reaching, before the world spins, and darkness swallows you.

You come to, tucked in a bed, with a callused and damp hand holding your own, like a nurse would. Humming a quiet song.

It's him.

When you scream, he waits. When you cry, he says nothing. He watches you recoil, your breath catching and shuddering on your panic, and he permits it all. But when exhaustion drags you back to the pillows, he moves. A canteen pressed to your lips. A piece of bread on your tongue.

"Consider this is a second chance," He rasps, voice like the ship he plucked you from, charred and waterlogged, bubbling and burnt. "A survivor, but only alive because I decreed it so."

He names himself Captain Price. Gestures around you: this is his ship, his crew. You'll find no disloyalty here, no soft hearts. Then, with a flex of his claws—gleaming, articulated things jutting grotesquely from his skin—he acknowledges what you've already guessed. 

"You've heard the stories, I'd wager."

You have. Cursed ships. Drowned men who don't stay dead. When you booked your passage, the name was muttered like a bad omen, then dismissed with soothing reassurances: That ship's just a tale to scare the children and womenfolk.

But the proof sits in front of you, chest heaving in watery breaths, clouded eyes watching your every move.

"I've invoked my privileges as captain," He informs you as you stare, dumbstruck. "You'll be under my protection. Mine alone."

The implication is clear, as sharp as the claws on his face. Companion. The word sticks in your throat. The roof of your mouth.

When the fear overwhelms you again, your body shaking with what he means, he doesn't let you cry or scream. His grip tightens into a vise until you gasp, a warning. His spare hand, an even more disfigured mangle of fingers and claws, drum against the bed frame. 

"If that doesn't suit, you can bunk with the crew tonight. And come morning, I'll see you back to the sea."

It isn't much of a choice. Not one at all, really. You let the silence speak for you, and he releases your wrist. Rising to his full height, he tells you to finish the bread, drink, and sleep. 

"Unfortunate thing like you, you'll need it."

The next day, you're allowed more time to rest, though don't dare sleep. You're terrified of the Captain. Of him reconsidering his so-called mercy. Worse still, when you do think of the crew, you almost wish he'd let them have you. At least it would afford you an end to this torture. Peace at the bottom of the sea.

The cabin door is locked at all times, of course. Still, you're surprised to find yourself free to roam its cramped confines. You rifle through maps and logbooks, though the latter might as well be written in a foreign language. The room offers little else: no paintings, no books, nothing of sentiment. A space for planning and sleeping, nothing else.

You listen instead. The voices above deck, the crash of waves. Through the porthole, you see no land, discern no direction. The hours crawl by, and it's only when the sun disappears that he returns.

He brings food. Your dress, dried. You take the meal reluctantly, your appetite thin but you do not think he'll allow you to starve. You don't question the food's origin. From what little you've gathered, he doesn't need it.

When you're finished, the Captain takes the plate and utensils without a word. Alone again.

And so it continues. Breakfast. Dinner. Hours of silence in between. Days pass, melting into one another. You lose yourself in the monotony and isolation. You're certain this is hell: locked in a cabin surrounded by monsters, the devil himself tending to you.

Eventually, the thought comes, sprung from the desperate prayers you whisper every night. Clear and unshakable. Kill the devil. Free yourself.

When the moment arrives at dinner, you do not hesitate. The dinner knife fits perfectly in your hand as you swing it, the blade aimed at his chest. You expect resistance, struggle—but there's none. The steel sinks in easily, the sound wet and horribly soft, and the grin on his face only deepens.

He laughs. Your blood turns cold.

"Was waitin' for this," he chuckles, grabbing and pressing his pistol into your hand. He adjusts your grip, tilts the barrel toward the vulnerable stretch of his throat where carapace gives way to flesh. His claws click against the weapon as he steadies it.

"C'mon, darling. See what happens."

The shot rattles your teeth, and then it's everywhere. Blood, bits of tissue, saltwater spraying out in a burst. It coats his chest, slick and shining, and splatters up your hands, your arms.

For a heartbeat, you think it worked. His head rests against the back of his chair.

But his skin, ceral and dripping, slowly knits. Wet threads reach for one another and tie themselves together, leaving a shallow ridge. It's as if you did nothing at all. His head tips back up, gaze heavy-lidded and glinting. He spits the ball of lead out, a dark sludge dripping from the corner of his lips, and his good hand finds the back of your skull. He reels you in for a kiss. Defeat tastes like salt and iron. 

The routine changes. 

An unholy wedding occurs. You know God averts his eyes.

The man leading you down the aisle wears a skull as a mask, its hollow sockets fixed forward, fluttering gills at his neck. It is the first taste of fresh air you've had in weeks. Gruesome creatures crowd the deck, clawed hands and tendrils reaching to tug at your makeshift veil of netting and lace. Their jeers fill the air, delighted and mocking.

You are wed.

But Price admits to you on your wedding night, his deformed clawed hand cradling your head, buried within you, that he knows you can't stay. There are places he must travel, places you cannot go.

You do not believe him until he finds you an island, which, unbeknownst to you, lies on the path of a trade route. It hits you as he lifts you from the dinghy and sets you down in the shallows. This must be the end of it. This is the last you will see of him and his crew, his cursed ship. You will starve, die, and rot in freedom.

Before you take a single step toward the beach, he seizes you by your dress, turning you back to him. His eyes scour your face as if trying to memorize it. Every feature, every detail.

He leans in close, whispering in the salt-sweet air, "I'll find you again. I can promise you that."

Time blurs into a haze of hunger and thirst before you're found. It's hailed as a miracle: you survived. The sentiment haunting as you limp your way back to what remains of your life. 

Years pass and wear the edges of memory down, turning them almost bearable. Captain Price's promise fades into the background, like the echo of a bad dream.

You take a husband. You find a new home. You vow to never touch the sea, again.

Until the storm.

It comes howling, ripping through the harbor, swallowing ships whole, and splintering docks. The air is charged, furious. You cannot put words to it, but in your bones, it feels personal. You watch from your window, mesmerized, until you see it—a figure in the rain.

The lantern's light swings with his steps up the hill to your cottage. The whistle from his blackened cuts through the roaring wind, and your stomach knots with the memory it drags from the depths of your mind.

Your husband goes to ask if the stranger requires shelter from the storm. Frozen in fear, you cannot stop him as he greets his death with open arms.

Through the window, you see it unfold. The moment of recognition, him stiffening as he takes in what he sees. Then he screams, the sound ripped straight from his chest, raw and panicked, the same way you screamed all those years ago.

You try to hide, of course. Try to bar the door, arm yourself with whatever you can find. But it doesn't matter. The door groans, then gives. It crashes open, shoving back the table, and in he steps. Captain Price. Rainwater and the blood of your poor husband dripping from his hands. 

"Who was that, love?"

His grip is cold and iron-tight as he pulls you from your corner. "Not this again," He chuckles, plucking the kitchen knife from your hand.

The Captain drags you to bed, chest heaving, eyes moving over you like he's deciding where to start. How to make up for lost time. He speaks softly, almost tender. Husbandly.

"Ten years is long for you, I know," He peels your clothes off, marveling. He studies the changes in your body with reverence, dragging his fingertips along every line and wrinkle. "I do not fault you for your loneliness. But…a husband?" His tone hardens, eyes locking to yours. "Did you forget you were already a wife?"

Your mouth opens, then closes, nothing coming out but shallow, desperate breaths, like a fish gasping on the deck.

"This time," he murmurs as he shrugs free of his coat, then his shirt, "I'll give you something to remember our vows by."

The Captain leaves with the storm. The town counts its losses, buries its dead, and you stand by your own pile of dirt behind your cottage, a hand pressed over your belly.

Dread already quickening.

Ten years isn't that long at all.

[rhiannonsknife]

HAVE YOU SEEN THAT ONE CLIP WITH GHOST JACKIE GOING “It’s just a cut, don’t be such a baby” HEHDBEBEBEVE– this has got me thinking of mean dom! Jackie 😔

- 🐑

— YELLOWJACKETS S3 SPOILERS (mdni)

this is also for the anon who sent me this ask: ‘would it be weird if i said that i would let jackie spank me with that pride snap bracelet? 😔’….nsfw content, so mdni.

“aw, does that hurt?” comes the low rasp, close enough that her breath skims the shell of your ear while her fingertips soothe over the pulsing red mark on your flesh.

this isn’t jackie.

you know, deep down, that the real jackie never looked at you like this, never tilted her head in a way that suggested she actually enjoyed your suffering. this jackie, the one standing behind you now, is different. she’s smiling like she’s savoring every second of it.

she didn’t demand that you strike your own skin like she did with the others, so the sting turned raw, and blood gushed from a wound caused by the impact. no, she’s holding it now, tapping it idly against her wrist as if debating when to use it.

the other girls are gone. maybe they were never here to begin with, only a part whatever it is that you're seeing. either way, it’s just you and her left now.

jackie runs the edge of it down your spine, and you shudder at the sharp contrast of cool plastic against fevered skin. you’re too hot, the room is too close, and the anticipation coils tight in your stomach as the bracelet glides lower, over your shoulder blades, down the curve of your back. “what’s the matter?” she pouts, voice as soft as it is mocking. “i thought you could handle this…?”

you grip the edge of the desk beneath you, hoping that it’ll make the throbbing between your thighs go away. it’s too telling, too exposing to know you’re absolutely soaked from the slaps against the swell of your ass. “you’re not real,”

jackie hums as she smooths a hand down your spine. it’s solid, nothing like a hallucination should feel. “maybe not. but i’m here, aren’t i?”

the bracelet hits against your skin, sharper this time, and your breath shudders out of you in a high-pitched whimper.

the jackie you knew would never do this. she was sharp-tongued, sure, but never outright cruel. she never wanted to hurt you.

this jackie?

this jackie likes watching you squirm and shift, rubbing your thighs together like that will make the sensations any more bearable. she can see the wet patch against the fabric of your underwear from where she’s standing, evidence enough that she never stopped having this effect on you.

“you always were my favorite,” jackie muses, leaning forward with a hand on your hip. “bet you liked when i was mean to you, didn’t you?”

you shake your head, but there’s no denying it when she trails her fingers higher, pressing them against your cunt through the thin lace.

“liar”

she doesn’t give you time to answer or to process the sensation of her sudden touch. with her free hand, she snaps the bracelet against your thigh, making you jolt against her fingers. your body clenches, so painfully aware of the lack of relief, and jackie chuckles as she traces the mark where the bracelet last struck.

“tell me to stop,” she rasps, challenging.

you don’t.

her hold on you tightens, and she lets the bracelet slap against your skin again, this time just a little harder, a little closer to where you need her touch. any touch, really. your clit throbs as you try to rut against the table’s edge, a futile attempt to find relief. you cry out in something between desperation & pleasure.

“don’t be such a fucking baby,” jackie hisses.

you should be afraid after seeing what she was capable of with it. instead, you arch into her touch.

[cheolhub]

WHAT YOU NEED — JEON WONWOO ࿐

summary. wonwoo knows how shy you get telling him what you want, but he’ll get you to use your words one way or another.

wc. 2.5k

warnings. mean-ish soft dom!wonwoo, sub! reader, corruption kink + slight humiliation kink! lots of teasing from wonwoo, lots of begging from reader, pet names [love, baby, sweet girl], dirty talk [😵‍💫], possessiveness (reader is so into it), heavy praise, unprotected sex, creampie — MINORS DNI 18+

note. it’s been months… hellooo… i forgot how to write so forgive me for the shitty plot lol. this is me attempting to get back into the writing world 🤓 hopefully ONE of u enjoys this <3 p.s. i’m srsly in my wonu era

“remember what i said, love,” wonwoo murmured, soft lips pressed against the shell of your ear. “if you want something, you gotta use your words.”

you hated this– everything about this– the teasing, the deep timbre of his voice that shoots heat straight to your core, him in general. he’s well aware of the fact that you can’t stand it at this moment, but that doesn’t put an end to his teasing. 

your back arches off his chest as you feel the ghost of his fingers over your painfully wet cunt, covered in a pair of cotton panties. “wonwoo…” you whine, eyes brimming with tears of frustration. “please…”

he merely chuckles, pressing a kiss to the skin under your ear. “please what?”

when you and wonwoo started dating, you were so shy. so shy and so, so sweet. you’d never been with anyone before him, and of course he felt bad that he was the one to rob you of your innocence, but he was filled with a sense of pride (and urgency) when he’d found out he was the one to corrupt you and ruin you for everyone else. 

and he was gentle. yes, jeon wonwoo was so, very gentle, handling you like a pretty doll while coaxing orgasms out of you left and right with his hands and mouth till your body was slack and you were nothing but a puddle of tears. he got you ready for his cock and you took it well. then you took it again. and again. and again, till you and him both knew you were his and he was yours. 

it got to the point where you’d crave him at the most inconvenient times. while you were running errands, at work, at dinner with your friends– it was almost insufferable. 

but he always took care of you. all you had to do was ask and he’d be there at your beck and call with whatever you wanted, whether it was with his mouth, fingers or cock. 

he always makes you ask because wonwoo’s taken a certain… liking… to making  you say the filthiest things. he knows it makes you nervous, but that’s why he thinks he loves it. he loves your stammering and how he can feel the heat radiating from your body. it’s cute.

which is why you’re in your current predicament, sat between his legs, your own spread over his with your back pressed to his chest after sending an innocent ‘come over, please? <3’ text. 

“don’t make me say it, won… it’s…it’s unbecoming. just… please.”

usually, he’s not so adamant on getting you to say exactly what you want. all you had to do was say please, and he was all yours. 

but no, not today apparently. 

“there’s nothing unbecoming about it, my love.” he noses at your neck, his breath fanning over your racing pulse and eliciting your soft shudder. “just tell me what you invited me over for and i’ll give it to you.”

“please… touch me.” you whisper, heat creeping from where his lips are on your to neck all the way up to the tips of your ears. 

you can feel his shit-eating grin and you want to scream at him, but your need for him is much more profound than your desire to slap him in the face for teasing you to this extent. 

his hands rub up and down your arms and you hear his smile when he asks, “like this?”

you groan, shaking your head, “you know what i mean!” 

“i don’t know what you mean, actually. can you dumb it down for me?” 

you mentally curse him out, but you try to steady your breathing before you speak again. “touch me… down… there.” you attempt to say, but it comes out as more of a squeak.

wonwoo’s uncharacteristically large hands find your tummy and you want to sob when he asks, “here?” you shake your head. “words.” the demand vibrates through you and you let you an embarrassing whimper.

“lower,” you whisper, unable to trust your voice. “please, wonwoo.”

he runs his fingers down your abdomen and trails them down your thighs. you can’t help the cry that leaves your mouth. “mean. you’re so mean.”

“you can say it, sweet girl.” he whispers. “it’s not unbecoming. it’s not inappropriate. it’s fucking hot. i want you to tell me exactly what you want and i swear to god i’ll give it to you.”

you sniffle, frustrated and slightly embarrassed, but you stutter out in the softest voice he’s ever heard you use, “please touch my pussy, wonwoo.”

you think it feels awkward and gross coming out of your mouth with your voice, but wonwoo… wonwoo groans, hand immediately slipping into your panties. “good fucking girl.” he grumbles as his fingers find your clit. 

you jolt at the contact but melt into him just as quickly. “fuck,” you whimper, thankful that you’re finally receiving the touch you’ve been craving for the past half hour. “f-faster, please.”

wonwoo’s chest swells with that familiar sense of pride again as he hears your beg. he obliges, the rough pads of his fingers circling the swollen, pleading bud. “you’re so fucking wet…”

you moan, head falling back on his shoulder. your face burns like never before as you get out, “f-for… you. ‘m wet for you.”

wonwoo isn’t always vocal, but when he is? he’s loud. so the moan that slips from his mouth startles you a bit. 

“that’s right, all for me.” he grunts, possessiveness lacing his voice causing the jostling of butterflies in your tummy. “all fucking mine, forever mine.”

you change your mind at this– you love the teasing, the deep timbre of his voice, him especially. 

“always yours.” you nod vigorously, body writhing as he quickens the movement of his fingers. 

wonwoo doesn’t have much self-control when it comes to you, so it’s taking everything in him to not flip you over and fuck you till all you can say is yours, yours, always yours. instead, he opts for trying to get more out of your pretty mouth. “how do you feel, baby? tell me how much you like my fingers playing with this pretty little cunt.”

it’s so filthy, but you can’t help but arch your back at the sound of his words. “love them s’much, wonwoo. feels s’good.”

he’s sure you do feel good, he’s a skilled man after all, but he knows you probably need more. 

“yeah?” he responds breathily, cock aching at the validation and how pretty you sound saying his name. “this enough to make you cum, or do you want more?”

your brain fogs over at the thought of more. you can nearly taste ecstasy on the tip of your tongue and you don’t doubt that you could get off with just his fingers, yet… the idea of being filled to the brim with his fingers or his cock is much more compelling. 

“more.” you breathe in reply. 

“what was that?” he teases, fingers slowing down. 

there’s that wicked sense of humor that makes you want to slap him across the face.

you barred your teeth before gritting, “fuck me, please. i need more. i need you, wonwoo.”

his ministrations stop and before you get the chance to complain, he’s rolling your panties down your legs and guiding you to straddle his abdomen. he slips his sweats down enough for his cock to come out and, even though you can’t see it, you can feel its looming presence. 

“take what’s yours, baby.” he stares up at you while you stare back, eyes wide. 

“y-you… you want me to…?” he knows what your unfinished question translates to and he nods and gives you a lazy smile even though you can see the burning desire in his blown out pupils.

you let out a short breath and nod, more to yourself than anything. he’s never let you have control while you’re on top, but you feel giddy that he’s giving you a chance now. you lift your hips up and take a hold of his hardened length in your hands. you run the blushy tip of his cock through your folds, eliciting a hiss from the man under you, before finally sliding down his cock. slowly, you feel every inch of him invade your pussy and it’s so good, despite the slight burn.

you forget how tight the fit is every time. even with how wet you are, you still feel your walls stretching to accommodate his size. 

you cry softly, body going limp as you finally hit the base of his cock. “won…”

“you feel so good,” he moans softly, hands finding purchase on your hips. “are you alright? does it hurt?” he manages to ask, cock twitching at the way your walls wrap around him.

you shake your head incessantly, hoping he doesn’t worry too much. “no– no, ‘m okay. j-just need to adjust.”

wonwoo nods empathetically, rubbing soothing circles into your skin to ease you. “you’re doing so well.” he whispers after a minute of silence, the only sounds being your ragged breaths and the soft hum of the air conditioning. “gonna make sure you feel so good, baby.”

you feel the heat reappear and a gush of arousal leak at the praise in his hushed voice. it inspires you to take action. 

you press your palms to his clothed abdomen, wishing he’d taken off his shirt so you can feel his skin, but you can’t be bothered to ask him to do so now. you lift your hips up his cock before letting yourself drop, a moan tumbling out of your mouth when you feel how deep he is inside you. 

you repeat the sloppy movements, stangled moans slipping with every sharp thrust as you spear yourself on his length over and over. 

it’s not till wonwoo guides you with the tight grip of his hands on your waist that you find a steady tempo, the sound of skin on skin growing louder with the mixed sounds of his grunts and your mewls. 

you slip your hands under his shirt, craving the closeness, and lightly run your nails down the skin. you feel him contract under the contact and you can’t stop the way your walls tighten around him when his hands squeeze you harder. 

the longer you ride him, the more your thighs burn. it eventually causes your speed to falter and wonwoo, ever the observer, is quick to notice. he decides you’ve had enough and bucks his hips into you, meeting you halfway while groaning out your name. 

the bulbous head of his cock rams into your sweet, special spot as he takes over and you throw your head back in utmost pleasure. tears spring to your eyes and wonwoo finds this to be the most beautiful sight he’s ever laid his eyes on. your tits bouncing with every push, your mouth cracked open as the prettiest sounds leave it, the way your eyebrows knit in pleasure– he makes a mental note to bring his camera next time you invite him over. 

“tell me what you need, love.” he demands yet again, words breathy and clipped as his cock throbs in between your velvet walls. “tell me what this pretty pussy needs and i’ll fucking give it to you.” his sentence ends in a growl when your nails bite into his bare skin, leaving red, crescent shapes in their wake. 

you let out a choked sob, “w-wonu–”

he sits up, using his strength to bounce you up and down at a leisure pace– one that he knows does nothing for your needy body. “don’t get shy on me now, baby, you can tell me.” he coaxes, sultry voice circling your brain. 

you swear if your body burns any hotter, you’ll explode.

your mouth opens to let out a plea, “p-please make me cum– please, i-i wanna–” your words are swallowed by him as he smashes his lips to yours. you moan his name into his mouth and he all but moans back into yours. 

you involuntarily clench around him when he hastily bucks into you while also guiding your hips on his cock. when he pulls back, he sports swollen lips and lust-ridden eyes and it makes you all the more needy for your coveted release. 

“rub your clit and get yourself off for me, yeah?” you pants before his mouth lands on one of your breasts, sucking and tugging at the peaked nipple. 

you follow instructions, two of your fingers moving to circle the swollen bud and your free hand gripping his shoulder for more support. 

at the onslaught of pleasure, the knot that’s been rapidly forming in your tummy all night tightens beyond belief and you know you’re on the precipice of an orgasm. wonwoo, being as perceptive as he is, just moans at the way you pulse uncontrollably around his cock. 

if you’ve learned anything from the teasing and the rather humbling experience you’ve had tonight, it’s that you should definitely voice what you want. 

and that’s exactly what you do. 

“i– fuck, wonwoo. i need to cum, please let me.” you beg as you get closer and closer to your anticipated release. 

he releases your nipple with a pop and nearly growls. “cum for me, baby.” 

it’s all you need to hear before a silent scream leaves your lips and white, hot pleasure runs its course. your body goes taut as the tether in your belly snaps in half, cunt and body practically spasming all the while your brain spins erratically. 

wonwoo is enthralled by the sight and feeling of you. the grip he has on you is near bruising as he watches you fall apart on him– feels you fall apart on him. 

“so beautiful,” he praises, voice strained as he nears his own release. “my beautiful girl. you’re so fucking good for me, you know that?” he rambles, cock twitching as you let out more whines and whimpers.

“c-cum in me.” you demand, voice broken and hoarse from all the screaming. “i-i wanna feel it. i need to.”

an animalistic growl bubbles in the back of his throat and his slow pace and sweet praise disappears, replaced by an unforgiving speed at which he pounds into you. you’re back to broken moans as he lets out labored pants till, shortly after, he’s stills inside of you, cock nestled at your hilt and he’s releasing his warm load inside of your battered walls. 

you collapse on top of him, savoring the feeling of his warmth inside of you. 

“did i hurt you?” he whispers after a few minutes of unsteady breathing from the both of you. 

you shake your head. “just my dignity,” you joke softly, resting your forehead against his. “i’m alright, don’t worry.”

he chuckles, cupping your cheek and running the pad of his thumb over the dried tear streaks, “i was a bit mean, huh?”

“so mean.” you tease, kissing the corner of his mouth. “you’re lucky i love you.”

“beyond lucky.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

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[222col]

bimbo!reader x patrick zweig

summary: patrick finally gives into his impulses, and he doesn't think he'll ever get over it

cw .ᐟ nsfw, age gap, unprotected p in v, spanking

wide eyes and a lack of clothing has patrick nearly foaming at the mouth, hovering over you on your pink sheets. his temptation personified as his calloused hands roam over the bare skin of your ribs. he's biting back groans just from seeing you underneath him like this, but patrick can't stop his hands from cupping your clothed breasts. his own eyes nearly rolling back from the sound that escapes you as he does.

“it’s not right, kiddo,” the word should deter you, yet you find yourself even further turned on as the two syllables drip from patrick’s mouth. his hands stay massaging your chest, his eyes half-lidded as they cast over your barely covered body. your back arching, plus your parted lips, patrick knows he’s not stepping away from you. he just needed to know he put up some kinda fight before letting himself indulge completely.

“you’re too young, pretty girl, don’t wanna hurt you.” he murmurs, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. the bare skin of his chest pressed up against your skin.

shaking your head profusely, an almost pout on your lips as his hands slip underneath the lace of your bra. patrick was never going to deny you, how could he when you were looking up at him with those pretty eyes? his fingers gently pinch at your pebbled nipples and he's already grinding against the mattress, the fabric of his jeans doing little to give him any release.

"mm, you want it, baby, don't ya?" patrick hums, smirking down to you as your hands scramble with his belt buckle. he chuckles, taunting you at your eagerness. his hands leave your chest, sitting up on his knees as he slowly starts to unbuckle his belt, patrick's eyes not once leaving yours.

"tell me how bad you want it," he smirks, as he begins pulling his belt out of his jean loops at an agonisingly slow pace. when he hears nothing but mumbles from your lips, patrick suddenly flips your body onto your stomach. the leather belt wrapped around his fist as he positions himself over the back of your calves, resting his weight on your legs.

"you run that mouth all day, yet now you're quiet, huh?" you don't need to see his face to know he's got a shit-eating grin plastered across his lips. the sound of the leather slapping against the skin of your ass echos around the room, the squeal that escapes you only makes patrick chuckle lowly before thwacking the leather against you once more. "use your fuckin' words, kiddo, tell me how bad you want it."

the sting from his belt ripples through your body, hissing at the pain as the pout becomes present on your lips again. "need it bad, pat." you mumble, looking up to the brunette over your shoulder. "p-please, pat, need it real bad."

"was that so fuckin' hard, huh?" he taunts, ripping your lace panties down your legs before pushing his jeans down. patrick quickly discards them behind him as he flips you back over onto your stomach. he was downright desperate to watch your face contort as he finally felt inside of you.

spreading your legs as he positions himself between them, one hand planted into the mattress next to your head as the other slowly pumps his cock as he teases your entrance. slapping himself against your puffy clit, soaking up every sweet sound that hits his ears from your mouth.

an evil smirk on his face as he slowly slides himself fully into you. your face scrunched as patrick bottoms out, manicured nails pressing in sharply to his thighs. attempting to hold him still as he all but splits you open. “take it like a good girl,” he purrs. lip quivering as you barely adjust to his size, mumbles of ‘s’too big, pat’ leaving your mouth as your legs clench around his waist.

“c’mon, quit whinin’, you asked for it, kiddo.” patrick smirks, forehead resting on yours as his hips start to jackrabbit into you. his hips slap against your skin, sure to leave bruises with the force in which he's fucking himself into you.

nails scraping down his toned back, leaving red scratches in its wake. small drops of blood spreading across his skin as your nails cut him open. patrick fucking loves it. grasping hold of your thighs as he pushes your ankles up onto his shoulders, mouth sloppily pressing kisses to your ankles as he pushes even deeper inside of you. hitting the spongy spot that has you almost screaming out his name.

“squeezin’ me so fucking tight, baby,” he mumbles as your hands grasp hold of his face, pulling him down onto your lips as teeth and tongues clash together. sweat forming on his skin as his large hands grasp hold of your waist, pulling your body back onto him repeatedly as he keeps thrusting harshly into you. "pussy's fuckin' made for me."

his words only made you clench further around him, explicit groans falling from his mouth as you do. patrick's hand grasps hold of your jaw, forcing your eyes onto he pushes his thumb inside your mouth. slack-jawed as patrick's digit pulls your mouth open, and he swears he could have came at the sight. bubblegum lips wrapping around his thumb as patrick keeps rutting into you, moans vibrating against his thumb.

"fuckin' hell, kiddo," the pet name falling of his lips too easily, his pace growing sloppy as he pushes your legs closer to your body by your calves. pornographic moans filling up your pretty pink room, patrick's grip on your calves tight as he regains his pace, chasing his own orgasm.

"gonna fuckin' fill you up, princess." he groans, crushing your body as he leans further forward, pushing down on the bulge on your abdomen, feeling himself inside you. the pressure in your stomach growing tighter as he does, even more so as his hand moves to circle your bundle of nerves. "o-oh, fuck, shit— pat!"

his smirk grows as the string of profanities hit his ears, his thumb lazily rubbing against you as his mouth returns to your ankle, letting one of your legs drop down. sweat slicking your bodies together as they meet, furrowed brows as patrick's eyes don't leave your face. he can feel how close you are, with how tight you're squeezing him and how much louder you're getting. hands balled around the fabric of your sheets as patrick lets a glob of spit drop from his mouth down onto your cunt, circling your clit faster with the extra wetness.

head thrown back against the pillows, mouth flung open, patrick's name the only word you can manage to speak. "aw, pretty baby's so fuckin' dumb from my cock," he mocks, but you can't even fight him on his words, too cock-drunk to even think about a snarky reply. lips pouted, nodding your head, desperate for him.

"nnph— fuck, fuck, pat! m'cumming!" if patrick wasn't already done for, he was the second he felt you come over his cock. watching your legs jolt, feeling you clench around him as though you never wanted to let him leave your body.

body contorted in ways you'd never experienced as patrick pushes you further into the mattress, fucking you deeper than anyone had ever been. his load shooting up into you as groans of your name echo around the room. "f'ck me, princess, pussy's fuckin' perfect." patrick mumbles as his body collapses onto yours.

his curls slick to his forehead, bruises already starting to form on your waist and legs. patrick presses lazy open-mouthed kisses to any part of skin his mouth can reach as both of your breathing starts to calm. "we can't do that again, kiddo." he breathes out, naked bodies still attached to each other.

"mhm, sure, pat, whatever you say." you mumble, knowing full well he'll never be able to resist you again.

© 222col. do not steal or repost my work without permission.

[futureplayboibunnie]

Aphrodesiacs PT. 5

Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader

You and Miguel were bitten by the same spider….what could possibly happen?

bro i hit 600 followers three days ago and now i’m at 1,000? wtf thats insane i love u.

NSFW AS ALWAYS 18+

It was months since you saw Miguel.

Well, thats what it felt like. In reality it was just 3 days.

Honesty was never a big deal with you, but when you promised Miguel you’d kill him the next time you saw him: you felt it in every cell to be true. It was delusion kicking into mass hysteria at this point. What was startling though and quite frankly alarming was that Miguel believed you.

You were akin to that of a bloodied and mauled rabid dog when he saw you last, he had never seen your face look so ashen and convincing. Normally, when you were away from him, your cheeks were stained pink as you enertained whoever you were talking to, you were happy. He was taking that away from you and he was beginning to feel slivers of guilt make home in his chest. So he did what he had to.

You were stood looking like an idiot in your apartment, fiddling with your interdimentional watch, slapping it and messing about with it to the point you were sure you were breaking it further. That was until a blaring orange screen showed up: Access Denied. You ogled at the glitchy words like a shell shocked fool, that look soon dissipated into an indignant frown. Miguel…again. Of course.

You threw the object closest to you at the wall, a large gaping crack left in the wall due to sheer force of your poisonous indifference. You sighed heavily as a disgruntled sound fell from your throat. That dick was cutting you off entirely, your needed to get back in the lab, all of the materials you lacked here were there.

You didn’t learn your lesson.

You wanted to see him.

You said you’d kill him if you did and right now you were contemplating it.

But he put his foot down and pushed you out, forcing you away which was counterproductive as it made you want to see him more. You groaned in frustration: what the fuck is wrong with you? It was like you were all for yet going against every intuition and feeling in your body, you wanted one thing and felt another and all it did was leave you bewildered mess in heat.

How could you contact him?

No, you definitely shouldn’t.

You’d just cause more problems relating to this.

But you needed answers.

Fuck.

An embittered look crept on your face as your finger hovered over the button that called Lyla. If you couldn’t contact Miguel…you’d just use Lyla and your incredible convincing skills. You pressed it and she popped up looking happy and over her head as usual.

“If this is about your restriction-“ She sighed, rolling her eyes in the process.

“Well yes. I need to talk to Miguel about it.” You winced, not entirely believing yourself and she just raised an eyebrow at you.

“Hm.” She muttered under her breath. “You’ve definitely talked enough recently.”

“Look. I know Miguel told you he didn’t want to see me at all and I get it, hell, I’m trying to get through it too. But he needs to answer some questions I have a right to know.” You raked a hand over your exhaused face and breathed out heavily as you met her look. “I just need to speak to him, I don’t need to see him. Fuck, I don’t want to see him because I’d kick his teeth in. Maybe just give me his phone number or something?” You cringed internally as you said it. No one was close with Miguel let alone had his phone number, Lyla looked like she saw a ghost.

“Like as in calling him? On the phone? Old fashioned? God, humans are so strange. All this tech and you want to call him on the…phone?” The mention of something so menial such as a phone made Lyla retch back in digust and all you could do is look at her unimpressed at her overreaction. “I mean I guess you aren’t actually near each other…and I love scaring Miguel shitless so…yeah okay.”’ She brightened up at the idea or irritating Miguel, she showed an orange screen of a smattering of numbers. Your face cleared of cloudiness as she showed it on screen. “Be quickkkkk. I’m leaving in 10 seconds.” She giggled. You haphazardly lunged to your desk to find a sticky note to write the numbers on, you almosr fell to the goddamn floor.

“5, 4, 3…” Lyla taunted and you finally grabbed a pen and wrote the numbers down on a note.

“Good. Now go away.” You mumbled breathlessly.

“You’re just like Miguel.” She then disappeared to where she came from. You pondered the words she left ungracefully hanging in the air, the thought made you shiver grotesquely.

You clutched onto the sticky note with those fated numbers on it and you honestly felt like a teenager who finally got her crushes number. Pacing around the room seemed like a great option. Your feet went wild, staring into space then back at the numbers. Okay, okay. Just call him. Give him a piece of your mind. Self soothing didn’t work. Just do it, just call him. This is a healthy way of communicating since you couldn’t just show up and speak to him. Adrenaline and fear pumped your veins raw as you put his number into your phone. You raised your phone to your ear and heard the defeaning and soul eating dial.

-

Miguel was at home for once, just trying to occupy himself in an environment that didn’t have eyes poring all over him and every move he made. He was trying to get some sleep after all the agitation you put him through, but he was failing terribly, again.

It felt like having you was the only thing he was put on this Earth for. His bare chest tightened at the thought. All that was sketched onto in his peripheral was that fucking picture. You looked like a wet dream. Fuck, you were just perfect. Your pussy was begging to be pounded and he couldn’t wait until-

His phone lit up the black of his nightstand.

Miguel opened his eyes as he saw the screen brighten and the blaring of a ringtone he’s long forgotten. He was astonished even though his eyes were seeped in tiredness. This was so odd. He barely ever used his phone, even for hookups, he’d fuck them and then ditch the number. Miguel stared at the white of the screen and the black outside, only lit by a few orange streetlamps that seemed to creep in through his blinds. He groaned as he grabbed his phone and stared at it, it was an unknown number, is this was a cold caller he would rip their head off with his teeth and spit it out into a gutter.

Miguel rubbed his eyes and answered, holding the phone to his ear. “Hello?” He said in a strained, raspy voice- it wasn’t quite obvious that he was trying to sleep.

You felt yourself gush when you heard his voice, your mouth popped open into a gape, you winced but kept a normal voice. “Miguel?”

His eyes glazed open wide as he heard your voice, what the fuck? How did you get his number? Why were you doing this? A wild amount of questions shot through his head but he was confused and didn’t know how to handle it, the majority of him was exhausted and seething. He leaned up and spoke. “Y/N?” He attempted to sound calm but he wasn’t convincing. “How did you find-? Whatever. Don’t call me. Ever. Again.” He gritted through clenched teeth.

“Lyla.” You said in a clipped tone.

Of fucking course.

“Stop using your damn power to fawn over me and restrict me from using the damn watch you gave me.” You were chafed you even had to say this.

Miguel sat on the edge of his bed and plaved his feet on the cold marble, his elbows dug into the skin of his thighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out the signature annoyed huff. “You know exactly why I had to do that.”

You paused and bit your lip, pacing around your room, reminding yourself that you’re barely even clothed right now. Your tank top and sleep shorts barely covered anything and you were still feeling searing hot by his voice alone.

“Stop… Just stop.” It was just above a whimper and Miguel’s ears pricked up the sound. Fuck, your voice was like velvet. “Miguel…we were honest with each other once before. We can do it again.” You breathed against the phone and it was taking everything in him to not moan at the pretty sound. “We shouldn’t be close to each other. I fucking know but…are you shutting me out of the society completely?” Your lip quivered at the mere idea.

Miguel was taken aback. He really didn’t know what to say or do about this now. Being honest or lying didn’t seem to do him any favours at this point. “Don’t ask me that. Please…just don’t.” His voice was so close to breaking but he was dampened by such a pure need for you it was distracting as fucking always.

You both sat in silence, hearing each other’s soft sweet breath on the line. Waiting for the other to break such a tense yet natural thing. Miguel could hear you lick your lips, every shift of that tongue and pretty mouth.

“Do you still want me?” You said flatly, so damn nonchalant like you weren’t even realising what you were talking about.

Miguel was left speechless for a solid 60 seconds. Are you dumb? He wanted just leave and kick your door down, rip all your clothes off and not let you leave for an entire weekend. He would mark every inch of your skin up to show everyone who you belonged to, he wouldn’t be soft at all and you would fucking love it. He’d pump you full of his cum.

“That’s a very stupid question.” He grunted huskily. His talons dug into the sides of his mattress as he said it. You heard the way he was holding back and it made you that much more desperate.

“You told me that it was manageable. How are you managing Miguel?” It was like you were taunting him, waiting for a big fat massive ‘I told you so.’

“I’m finding my own ways of coping.” He stipulated, fingers trembling into the mattress at your words. His dick was rock hard in his boxers at just hearing you breathe against the phone. He felt pre-cum leak from his tip.

“Hm. Like just so happening to know that I take nudes of myself and send them to my fuckbuddies.” You hummed, catching him out with that teasing cock stimulating voice of yours. Miguel swallowed thickly as you called him out.

“It’s 2099 here. Fuckbuddies aren’t taboo, sending nudes isn’t either.” He didn’t directly answer the question, he wrapped it up in a lie that it was normal and he just guessed that you did not that he literally violated your privacy.

“Then why do you not want me to send them anymore.” You whispered on the phone and the sensation of hearing such a honeyed voice made him shudder. Miguel ran his hand through his hair, exasperated but voice calm.

“Because it should be me seeing you like that. Only me.” He avowed in an unexpected admission. Your eyes fluttered shut as you heard it, exactly what he wanted to hear. You paused and your silence scared him.

“Did you like it?” You asked sweetly and he thought he could’ve came right then and there. He could just…slip his hand down and touch himself as you talked. God, he could. He wanted to so bad.

“You have no idea.” He rasped out and you tried to gulp down your arousal, instead it arose out in words.

“Miguel, I get wet just listening to you talk.” You said softly, not even ashamed anymore.

“Whenever you say my name I think my dick wants to snap in half.”

“We shouldn’t be doing this then.” He could feel you smiling lazily, your tone deceptive and teasing. You didn’t want to stop at all.

“Yeah we really shouldn’t.” Miguel teased back, his voice low and inherently dishonest.

“I won’t call you again then.” You smiled sweetly, eyes half lidded and flirty. “Let’s just say that this was… a little moment of weakness between us. We can go back to avoiding each other later.”

“I wonder how we’ll manage.”

“You better get rid of my restriction on my watch too.”

-

yoooo. I’m not gonna be able to post anything in the next week bc I’m on holiday and I probs won’t have wifi. I’m still writing chapters I just dk when I’m gonna be able to post it. I know i edge yall but this specifically isn’t on purpose I swear forgive meeee.

-

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[sebstanaddict]

Hands Off, Doll

Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader One Shot

Summary : Behold! The sequel to "Hands Off, Barnes". A perfect masterpiece of a Bucky thirst trap that will make you laugh and squirm at the same time 😆

In this story the roles are reversed. This time it's Y/n who is not allowed to touch Bucky for a whole day. Easy, right? Wrong, because Bucky has made it his mission to break her. Even if it means objectifying himself.

By the way, before anyone protests that I'm objectifying Bucky. He is objectifying himself to break his wife's restraint on not touching him. So I think safe to say, it's okay cause he approved 😆

Enjoy 😉

Warning : The theme is 18+ but not vulgar.. IMO. But if you're under 18, please proceed with caution.

Read more Bucky and Sebastian one shot here.

-----

Y/n had a problem. A big problem.

A problem in the form of her husband, a super soldier ex assassin who couldn't stop touching her that she once made him go through a no touching challenge for a whole day, and he lost.

The problem wasn't that he lost and was proven that he didn't have self control when it comes to her. The problem was, she secretly didn't mind the whole touching thing. Because she loved it when he did but she loved it even more when she could touch him.

So the morning after her husband lost the challenge and he asked her to go through the same thing he did, she gulped.

“What?” She asked, her eyes widened.

“You heard me, doll. Wanna see if you can do it? Not touch me for a whole day?” He grinned as he leaned on the doorframe of their bedroom, gazing at her mischievously.

"Pfft, sure. Easy." She snorted.

"Don't be too cocky, sweetie." Bucky smirked.

"Oh I have self control. What's the reward? Should be something fun." She said, standing up and walking closer to him.

“If you succeed, I’ll give you a full body massage. Essential oils, scented candles, mouth.” He leaned over, voice low and dangerous.

Her throat went dry.

“But if you don't, you get nothing. Just me, smirking, forever.” He grinned.

Her competitive side flared up.

“Deal.” She said, extending her hand to his and he pulled her closer to him, so close her breath hitched.

“Get ready to lose, sweetheart.” He whispered, his lips ghosting the shell of her ear, giving her goosebumps and making her question all of her life’s decisions.

-----

Hour 1

She was sitting on the couch in the living room, checking her emails on her cellphone when a loud sound that came out from nothing else but a vacuum cleaner blared throughout the apartment.

Bucky entered, wearing the tightest black shirt known to man, flexing his muscles everywhere as he started vacuuming the carpet in front of her.

She rolled her eyes.

Yup, that didn't affect her at all.

But when Bucky casually picked up the coffee table with his vibranium arm and casually vacuumed under it, she choked on air.

“You okay, baby?” Bucky asked, putting the coffee table back and turning the vacuum cleaner off.

“Fine.. just.. fine.” She rasped and Bucky smirked.

-----

Hour 2

Breakfast time and he offered to cook some eggs. Shirtless.

The muscles in his back shifted beneath his skin like sculpted marble. His sweatpants hung deliciously low on his hips, clinging to places that made her brain short-circuit. The veins in his arms bulged just slightly as he stirred scrambled eggs, like cooking breakfast was a competitive sport.

He glanced over his shoulder, smirked, and winked.

She forgot how breathing worked.

“Want some, baby?” he asked, holding out a bite on a fork. His voice was pure sin - smooth, low, knowing.

She walked over slowly, cautiously, like he was a wild animal she might pounce on at any second.

She reached for the fork.

Then he licked the bite off himself.

Y/n made an actual choking sound and staggered back like he’d slapped her with a slab of bacon.

He just grinned and said, “Guess you weren’t hungry.”

Brutal, he was brutal and she started to consider divorce.

-----

Hour 3

This. Was. Cruelty.

Bucky had chosen this moment - this unholy time in their marriage - to drag her to the gym.

He stood in front of the squat rack in a white tank top that clung to his torso like it had been painted on by thirsty angels. His sweatpants were traded for shorts. Tight shorts. She could see the veins in his thighs. THIGH VEINS.

He loaded plates onto the bar like it was nothing. Every movement made muscles in his arms, shoulders, and back flex and stretch in mouthwatering synchrony. She watched his biceps bunch and curl under his skin as he wiped sweat from his brow with the hem of his tank top, revealing a sliver of hard, chiseled abs that looked Photoshopped.

Then he grunted. Loudly. Repeatedly.

It was filthy.

He caught her staring in the mirror. He didn’t say anything - just raised an eyebrow and added another plate, like he was trying to deadlift her restraint.

Y/n nearly dropped her water bottle. “You are evil,” she muttered.

“Just working out,” he said, grabbing the bar and sending her a look that could’ve gotten him arrested. “You okay, doll?”

“I am clinging to my last shred of self-respect like it’s a floaty in shark-infested water.”

He grinned. “Good. Stay strong, baby.”

But of course he just had to tease her even harder.

She had survived watching him do bicep curls, bench press, pull ups, push ups, sit ups, deadlifts. But there was one thing he did that nearly broke her.

Hip thrusts.

The movement should be illegal outside the bedroom.

She should have looked away but she couldn't. Her eyes stuck looking at him like a kid watching cotton candy being made.

And he grunted, over and over, that she almost lost her sanity.

“You okay there, doll?” He asked.

“Peachy.” She muttered and he grinned.

“You know you can touch me, right?” He teased.

“What?”

“You can, but you won’t be getting that full body massage.” He smirked.

“Maybe I don't want it.” She murmured, her restraints starting to go away.

“Up to you, baby.” He winked as he continued to thrust his hip and grunted and all she could do was stare.

Nope, she could do this. She wasn't going to lose. She had self control and she was going to show it to him, no matter what it took.

But her confidence lasted only a short while.

-----

Hour 5

Y/n thought she was safe. She thought, surely he’ll let up.

She was wrong.

She was in the woman’s dressing area in the gym after taking a shower, wrapped in a towel, only to find Bucky already standing in the room.

Also in a towel.

Dripping wet. Hair loose. Beard damp. Abs on full display like an Olympic commercial break.

Water rolled down his chest like he was in a music video from the early 2000s. His skin glistened with a faint sheen, highlighting every delicious contour of his body. His towel sat dangerously low - too low.

“Bucky, you’re not supposed to be here!” She hissed.

He tilted his head. “What? No one is around. I just wanted to get some soap. I forgot to bring some. Did you bring some?”

She sighed and grabbed the bottle of shower gel she had brought with her and shoved it to him while staring at the drop of water sliding down his abs.

“Thanks, doll. You wanna help dry me off later?” he asked, taking one very slow step closer.

She shook her head and whimpered. Audibly.

He leaned in and kissed her temple. “Still holding out?”

“Barely,” she rasped and he grinned.

-----

Hour 7

Lunch should be simple. But of course, it wasn't.

Y/n sat at the kitchen island, quietly eating her salad like it wasn’t the hardest thing she’d ever done.

Across from her, Bucky was eating grilled chicken. But of course, he had to do it like he was starring in a commercial for sin.He chewed slowly, muscles flexing with every bite. The sleeves of his black t-shirt were tight, his forearms resting on the counter, veiny and rude.

Y/n kept her eyes on her plate.

“You good over there?” he asked, voice low.

“Peachy,” she muttered, stabbing a cucumber.

“Cool.” He leaned back in his chair, stretching - again - until the hem of his shirt lifted to expose just a sliver of his lower abs.

Y/n looked away so fast she got whiplash.

He grinned. “You look tense.”

“I’m fine,” she hissed.

“You sure?” He picked up a piece of grilled chicken with his fingers - not the fork - and took a slow, very suggestive bite. “Need a little…release?”

She dropped her fork. “I swear to god, Barnes…”

He sucked his fingers clean. “Just being helpful.”

“You’re eating seductively.”

He gave her a fake innocent blink. “What, this?” He licked his thumb.

“STOP.”

“I’m just enjoying lunch, sweetheart.

”She growled, trying to focus on anything else - until he stood up and walked behind her to the fridge, letting his hand accidentally graze her shoulder on the way.

She jolted. “You did that on purpose.”

“I didn’t touch you,” he teased.

“You brushed me!”

“I’m a large man in a small kitchen.”

“You’re a walking harassment case,” she muttered.

He opened the fridge and leaned down, stretching again, showing off his back muscles, triceps, and the waistband of his sweatpants riding dangerously low.

Y/n looked up at the ceiling and prayed.

When he stood back up and turned to face her, he was holding a popsicle.

Of course he was.

He tore it open and slid it into his mouth slowly, eyes locked on hers.

“You’re going to hell,” she said flatly.

He smirked. “Not without taking you with me.”

She stood up, fists clenched. “One more move and I’m ending the challenge right now.”

He took another slow, sensual lick. “Do it, doll.”

She stared. Trembled. And finally..She ran.

Bolted straight to the bathroom, slamming the door.

From the kitchen, Bucky laughed, victorious. “I didn’t even touch you!”

“You touched my soul!”

-----

Hour 9

Y/n had one goal: make it through the afternoon watching a movie without launching herself into her husband’s lap.

Simple, right?

They were cuddled on the couch - well, not cuddled. Just sitting. Near each other.

A very responsible, non-handsy distance.

The lights were low. The TV was glowing.

And Bucky… was plotting.

-----

It started small.

He “accidentally” brushed her thigh while reaching for the remote.

Then he “shifted,” and somehow his arm ended up resting behind her shoulders, fingertips grazing the back of her neck.

Y/n’s whole body went stiff. “What are you doing?”

“Getting comfy,” he said innocently.

She glared. “Get comfy without molesting the air around me.”

He smirked. “It’s not illegal to breathe near my wife.”

-----

Twenty minutes in..

He peeled off his hoodie.

Underneath: a paper-thin white tank top, low cut, clinging to his chest like a second skin.

Y/n stared at the TV with the intensity of a sniper.

“You hot, doll?” he asked, voice husky.

“I’m fine,” she hissed, not looking at him.

“You look flushed.”

“Because you’re setting the couch on fire with your sleeveless thirst trap body, James.”

He chuckled, stretching his arms over his head like a Greek god, tank riding up, showing a sliver of abs and that sinful V-line.

“Is this better?” he asked, smug.

She didn’t respond.

Because she was fighting for her life.

-----

Thirty-five minutes in..

He shifted again. This time, he laid back, pulling a blanket over his lap - but not before flashing a dangerously low glimpse of boxer briefs above his sweats.

Y/n’s eye twitched.

“Cold?” she asked, voice strained.

“Just relaxed,” he said, voice low, lazy, and full of dark promises.

Then - he reached into the popcorn bowl they were sharing, let his fingers brush against hers a little too long, and popped a kernel in his mouth with a soft moan.

Y/n shot up straight.

“You’re cheating,” she whispered.

“I’m just enjoying snack time.”

“You’re enjoying torturing me.

”He turned his head, eyes gleaming. “You could always quit the challenge. One little touch, and you’d win in other ways…”

She almost did.

Her fingers twitched.

Her knees clenched.

Her soul wept.

But she didn’t break.

-----

Fifty minutes in..

Bucky let out a soft groan and adjusted himself very obviously.

“Problem?” she asked, voice clipped.

He looked at her, lips parted. “You are.”

“Then maybe don’t strip and moan next to your touch-starved wife during a Marvel movie.”

“You picked the movie.”

“You’re the one breathing like a phone sex operator.”

He grinned. “Want me to stop?”

She grabbed a pillow and screamed into it.

-----

The credits rolled.

Y/n was curled in a ball. Mentally unstable. Emotionally fried.

Still not touching him.

“You okay?” Bucky asked sweetly.

She looked at him like she was about to commit multiple crimes.

-----

Hour 11 and 55 minutes

They were in the bedroom, ready to sleep, or were they?

Bucky had turned the lights off and lit candles on the dressing table. An essential oil diffuser blew a relaxing scent on the nightstand. Several bottles of essential oils stood ready to be used.

Bucky himself was shirtless, again, and just wearing a grey sweatpants while lying stretched on the bed like Adonis.

Y/n stared at him from across the room, sitting on a sofa, jaw clenched, eyes hard, mouth watered.

“Baby, come here. Why are you so far away?” Bucky patted the space next to him on the bed.

“Don't tempt me, Barnes.” She growled.

“Come on, doll. It’s okay. You can touch me. I’m your husband. I know you want to.” He smirked and she threw a pillow at him.

“How much longer?” She asked.

“One more minute.” Bucky replied, glancing at the clock.

As if she didn't learn from his mistake, she stood and walked slowly towards him.

Just then Bucky grabbed a bottle of oil, poured some on his hand and started rubbing them all over his chest and abs and she snapped.

She lunged at him like a lion to its prey, her hands immediately touching his muscled body everywhere and her lips crashed into his. Messy and desperate.

Then the timer rang out and she froze and groaned out loud.

Bucky laughed. “Guess you don't have self control either.”

“Not when you look like a damn snack, Barnes.” She groaned, trailing her fingers across his rock hard abs.

“Well, I’m impressed you lasted this long. And as a good husband, I'm still gonna give you your reward.” He smiled, kissing her temple softly.

“No, I prefer giving you the reward so I can touch you freely.” She smirked as she started to touch him all over and he grinned.

-----

Later

“Are you happy now?” She asked as she pulled him by the back of his neck, their faces inches from each other as they tried to catch their breaths after reaching their peak together.

“Very.” He smirked. “Now I know you’re as clingy and needy as me.”

“How can I not when I have you, a six foot, buff, hot sexy thing as my husband?” She smiled and his eyes softened.

“I love you.” He murmured, his finger caressed her cheek softly.

“And I love you too, you big menace.”

He grinned.

Safe to say they never did another challenge again. Especially not when it involves not touching each other.

Or did they?

[narcoticv3nus]

Let Me Love You Like a Woman ♡ Simon "Ghost" Riley

minors do not interact! | mdni!

summary: when you come home late from work, you find your boyfriend sleeping in your bed after being away for a few months. and you're more than happy to give him the 'welcome home' he deserves. tags/trigger warning: 18+, f!reader, fluff, reunion sex, oral sex (m!receiving), groping, p in v, cowgirl position, rough sex, dom!simon, sub!reader, cursing, use of pet names ("love", "lovie", "babe", "baby"), author attempts at accents wc: 2k

a/n: wasn’t supposed to be this long. sorry, y'all (or your welcome).

Coming home after a long work day, you kick off your heels with a sigh, your makeup smudged, and your once neatly styled hair in disarray.

You push open the door to your bedroom, only to be met by your sleeping boyfriend curled up underneath your girly, fluffy sheets as soft snores drift through the room. He had been gone for a couple of months while on deployment, and now he was back, taking a nap in your bed. The sight was so bittersweet that you almost began to cry.

Quickly, without much thinking, you took off your work clothes, scrambling to find something cute to wear before retouching your makeup and fixing your hair. You knew Simon wouldn't care about what you looked like, only that he'd be happy to see you, which only seemed to drive you further into waking him up with something nice to look at.

You weren't exactly sure why you felt this way, but as you gazed down at him now, watching his chest evenly move up and down and how his brown lashes fluttered against his cheeks, you realized he made you feel things no one else ever has.

You bit your lip, feeling guilty, as you gently combed your fingernails through his short brown hair to rouse him peacefully; you knew he needed his sleep, but you needed him too!

He grunts deeply, his eyes fluttering open in a confused daze before scanning the room. Once his eyes finally land on you, you can't hold back the wide smile stretching across your face.

His expression almost seems bored as he gazes up at you, but you can tell by how his lips parted slightly and the natural furrow of his brows completely disappeared that he was more than happy to see you.

“I know I should let you sleep," you whispered, not wanting to break the spell of tranquility wafting throughout the room.

“Nah," he croaks, his voice husky and guttural with sleep. "dun't," his hands traveling up the expanse of your hips and thighs, gently urging you closer.

You chuckle softly, moving your body the way he wants as you perch yourself on top of him, resting your hands across his lower abdomen.

"I missed you," you murmured as you leaned over to press a gentle kiss to his lips, making sure to expose the tops of your breasts for his viewing pleasure. Yet he just closed his eyes, his hand reaching up to tuck away a stray hair falling over your face behind your ear.

"Missed ya’ too, luv," he said, his opposite hand reaching underneath your cami nightdress to grope at your ass, squeezing the soft doughy flesh with an appreciative hum.

You beam down at him, rocking your hips against his in a slow, back-and-forth motion and elevating in the deep groan you pull from his chest as his cock stirs to life.

You press sloppy kisses all across his face, giggling at his pretend groan of protest as if the quick jerking motion of his hips doesn't give him away.

"I thought of you every day, y'know..." You whisper against the shell of his ear before nibbling softly on the lobe and descending further down the side of his neck, nuzzling your nose against his pulse.

"Ah' figured y'd," I figured you would. Simon mumbles, almost intelligible, with a cocky, sleepy grin. You giggle, letting your hands roam down the expanse of his body, palming over his semi-erection.

You lean back up, straightening your spine as you tug the seam of his sweatpants down to his thighs, allowing his hard cock to slap against his pelvis. He lets out a long exhale, his hips shifting upwards as he fights back the heaviness pulling at his eyelids.

"Did you think of me?" you breathed, wrapping your soft hand around his leaky tip and twisting, pulling downwards to coat his length in his sticky arousal, allowing for a smoother and more pleasurable glide.

"Dun't act daft, luv," he tosses his head back with another sigh, his abs clenching and unclenching in response to your teasing. "y'know I did,"

You fight back the urge to keep him talking, knowing he's likely still exhausted from his lack of sleep. Yet the way his voice twists and curls around your entire being is still entirely revolutionary for you. You don't even think he'll ever realize the kind of effect he has on you.

“I know," you giggle, making yourself comfortable between his meaty thighs, pressing tender kisses along his cock. "I just like hearing you say it." you nuzzle your cheek against him, unbothered by the wetness sticking to your cheek.

He grunts in response, his large hair cradling through your hair as he holds you against him, rutting himself against your face with deep pants.

You whine softly, gripping the flesh of his thighs as you brace yourself against him as he uses you for his pleasure. “Simon," you protest, trying to shift your mouth closer toward him, but he doesn't budge, only holding your head tighter in his hand.

"Don't move," he growls, his thrusts growing faster against your face as his pants grow louder, his thighs twitching softly beneath your fingers.

"Fock, yer s'soft," he grunts, his fingers curling tighter against the sheets.

Without warning, he lifts your face upwards by your hair, shifting his legs wider as he jerks himself off in front of you.

"Simon," you try again, adding a high-pitched hilt to your voice. "lemme touch you, please?" you beg, the throbbing between your legs growing harder to ignore.

"Yeh? Y'wanna touch me, luvie? Missed this fat fockin' cock, didn'cha?" he chuckles darkly, his groans growing louder as he taps the tip against your wet lips.

"Open wide, luv," he commands, sliding his length deeper inside your obedient mouth, his eyes trained on your cock-drunken expression.

"Ahh, yeah, that's it..." he moans, resting his head back against the pillows, letting go of himself as he grabs the back of your neck with the same hand. "little wider, f'me babe,"

Your cunt throbs at the sounds of his pleasure, mewling in desperation as you lick and suckle, twisting your lips to fit around the girth of his cock. you gag softly as his hips stutter, shoving the tip against the back of your throat, followed by a lewd whine escaping his chapped lips.

"God, yeah, I really did miss yer slutty fockin' mouth," he pants with a fucked out smile, guiding your head in an up-and-down motion, lifting his head back up to watch with a stuttering groan.

"And yer pretty little pussy too, shite! Bet she missed me too, didn' she?" you hum contently, gazing up at him as the sinful sounds of slurping and sucking escape your mouth. You rub your thighs together, your cunt clenching at the words pouring out of him. You always loved it when you got him riled up like this: his brain fogged over and his lips looser.

You nod your head in response to the best of your abilities. He laughs breathlessly at the sight of you before pulling you off of him, hissing the cool air, and making contact with his wet dick.

He smirks at your whimper of protest, "Yeah, yeah, princess." he tugs you back onto his lap by your armpits before smacking the fat of your ass perched over his thighs. "go ahead n' ride this cock, ya' love s'much, then." he snorts, resting his palms on top of your thighs as he waits for you to start.

You huff, narrowing your eyes at him with a smirk, resting your hands over his large pectorals as leverage to lift yourself above him. You reach down, slowly jerking him before guiding him towards your leaking pussy.

"There ya' go..." he sighs, massaging your hips just as you begin to sink onto him. "All the way, luvie," he grunts, thrusting upward in his impatience.

You bite back a choked sob, the stretch of him almost unbearable after so long. He lets out a ragged breath of his own, his palms sliding to your ass to part your cheeks as he attempts to get deeper.

"Jesus," he practically shouts, his lips parting wide as his face scrunches together, almost like he’s angry. "s'like yer fockin' stranglin' me."

You mewl in agreement, your nails digging into the skin of his biceps in an attempt to ground yourself from the intense mixture of pain and pleasure.

"Simon," you plead, forcing to sink the rest of the way until your ass lands on the tops of his thighs with a loud 'plap'. You both let out your strangled cries as his tip poked against the deepest part of you.

"God, your little cunny is so perfect," he grunts half to himself, barely giving you a chance to adjust before he's jackhammering himself inside you, his large hands lifting you up and down by your ass cheeks.

He plants his feet higher up on the bed, giving himself more leverage as he fucks into you at an overwhelmingly rapid pace. Debauched wails fill the room along with the fast sounds of flesh-against-flesh and the slick and slippery noises of your combined fluids.

"Oh yeah, fock tha' cock, luv," he moans, slapping your ass once more, followed by a passionate squeeze as he lets you set the pace.

He smiles up at you, the tops of his white teeth gleaming happily as his calloused hands stroke along the supple skin of your body. He drags his palms upward, groping your tits as his hips begin lifting to match your own with sharp and unforgiving thrusts.

"Baby," you squeak, gripping his hands as you bounce faster, peering your eyes open to gaze at his face. Your eyes sweep over his long, crooked nose and his downturned, dark-brown eyes blanketed by long, soft lashes.

"Yeah?" he pants, his eyes peering into yours in a yearning, adoring trance. "Tha' feel good? Hm?" he purses his lips in concentration, angling himself to hit the spongy spot deep inside you.

"S’good!" you let out a sweet little cry, tears forming beneath your eyelids, your belly tightly clenching as you chase the indescribable feeling. "Oh my god!"

"Doin' such a good job, f'me, girly." he let out a low grunt as he gripped your small wrists together in his hand and pinned them against his chest as he resumed his dominant pace.

"Can tell y'gettin' close, luv." He acknowledges as his dick twitches uncontrollably inside of you, threatening to release at any moment. You're surprised he managed to last as long as he has.

"C'mon baby," he pressed with a pleased grunt. "Cum on my cock, I know ya' wan' ta.'" he grins arrogantly as his balls smack against your pussy until he's barely pulling back out to fuck into you.

And like clockwork, you do. It almost surprises you how quickly and seemingly unexpectedly you approach your high. But it shouldn't, especially when you know how obedient your body is to Simon. You cry out for him as you release, drenching his lower half and spraying his abs in a coat of transparent essence.

A deep groan of your name is the only warning you receive before he's flooding your velvety insides with his spunk, his thrusts growing faster as he rides out his high before halting completely.

He softly loosens his death grip on your wrists as he brings them to his lips to kiss soothingly. You open your eyes, whining softly at his rare act of affection. He meets your gaze with his own; his smile is crooked, and his breaths are sharp and uneven.

"Took it like a champ, luvie," he chuckles deeply before sighing and pulling you into his chest. He kisses the top of your head, dragging his fingers down the length of your spine before patting your ass.

“Y’d make a good wife...”

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