#he could literally blood bend

[prythiansprincess]

@ rick riordan give us dark percy coward

[justa-smalltown-gargoyle]

I found myself watching the new live action ATLA and I was like omg this is such great set up for Zutara and their future dynamic !!!!!

And I got so caught up in the euphoria of my own Zutara thoughts that for like a minute I fully gaslit myself into believing that Zutara actually did happen and the live action was sowing the seeds for that relationship

[tonycries]

Unmistakably Yours - G.S.

Synopsis. In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, best friends to lovers, Satoru goes a little (very) INSANE, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, manga spoilers, use of jujutsu powers, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, féral Satoru, heinous things, happy ending, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.5k

A/N. Yeahhh that poll was cooking up something devious heheh. Gege give me back my man.

Gojo Satoru was going to kill someone.

He was going to kill someone and it didn’t matter who. It didn’t matter how. It didn’t even matter if he had to haul his broken body - scarred and barely-healed - out of this stiff infirmary bed, because the great Gojo Satoru awoke and the world shook.

Because you weren’t here.

“Ah. The oh-so deadest one, I see you’re awake.” Satoru flinches at the sharp, exhausted drawl from his left. 

Slowly, he blinks away the haze in his aching eyes, desperately trying to adjust to the cold room. Shoko’s voice was too loud. The lights too bright. His waiting arms too empty - where were you? 

With a low hiss, Satoru’s body is moving before his mind, sitting up like a man possessed. Goosebumps prickle his skin as the thin blanket falls off his shoulders. Temples throbbing because the world was spinning and spinning and you-

“Calm down, Satoru.” Shoko sounds almost panicked now - as much as she could, anyway. Uselessly trying to push him back onto the mattress. “I don’t care if you’re the ‘strongest’. Sukuna did a number on you and you have to rest-”

“Where is she?”

---

It was the final nail on your coffin - that slight, steady rumble beneath your feet. So fleeting that you’d written it off as your weary brain, too goddamn tired from today. Heaving out a sigh, you rub your eyes in frustration, so fucking alone in this too-large penthouse. 

Fingers jittery, you rifle through your best friend’s closet for his box of blindfolds, because you knew he’d be complaining about the sensory overload at the infirmary if- when he woke up. Though, you think that was more an excuse for Shoko to send your wrecked self away than anything. 

Grabbing a few more than necessary, your heart lurches as you eye that dusty framed photo by his bedside. A much younger Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you - probably the last time any of you smiled so carelessly. 

One dead and the other just on the cusp of it.

He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’s the strongest, right?

Swallowing heavily, you try to put your mind to something - anything - other than the memory of that battlefield and the blood. So much blood. Everywhere. 

God, you should’ve stayed. What if Satoru-

That was when you felt it. 

The tight, uncomfortable feeling of atoms standing at attention all around you. The air was so stagnant and heavy that it was almost hard to breathe. 

You don’t know how you realize what it is - but you don’t get the chance to wonder about it either. Because the thought has barely even crossed your mind before everything else is thrown at the window at those two words. 

Hoarse, and whispered, voice ever-so-slightly cracking at the end. One you recognized, one you knew you always would.

“My love?”

Satoru.

It was a miracle that you didn’t get whiplash from how fast you whirled around to face the doorway - and it was an even bigger miracle that you didn’t trip at how your legs were carrying you to that tall, familiar flash of white hair without a second thought. 

Hell, you don’t think you’ve ever run this fast in your life, and it still wasn’t quick enough when Satoru engulfed you in his arms. Letting out a soft sigh as he hugs you tight enough that it hurt, like he never wanted to let go. 

All familiar warmth and a rapid heartbeat that matched your own. 

A shiver runs down your spine at that scent of the infirmary, tinged with something so dangerously metallic, miles away from the usual hints of pine and candy. But you only pull Satoru closer - not even realizing the tears staining his snug t-shirt, nails digging into his sculpted back. 

“S-Satoru?” you murmur wetly, as if you still couldn’t believe it - even when you were in his strong arms. 

It killed you to pull away, and Satoru wasn’t any better, pulling you firmly to his heated body with a guttural grunt as soon as you showed any signs of shifting away. Grip almost bruising, fingers tight on your hips. But you didn’t mind, why would you? 

Because the strongest was nothing under your will - he always was. And it’s only once you break the embrace just a fraction of an inch that you confirm that this actually was Satoru - your Satoru. 

“You’re here.” you breathe out unsteadily, not knowing where to look first - his heaving chest, as if he’d run all the way here, or those faint scars along his exposed skin. Jagged, running down his pale skin like he was too impatient - too distracted - to let them heal properly. Satoru’s face was scarily blank, pretty lips set in a tight grimace like every second you weren’t locked in his arms killed him. 

He doesn’t answer - like he didn’t know himself. Nervously, you raise your eyes to meet his and-

Oh, Satoru, he was here. Alive.

Looking like he was ready to make sure that no one else was.

You just wondered where they’d pile all the casualties. Too many to bury at Jujutsu High if those tiny blue flickers of lightning at the corners of Satoru’s eyes were anything to go by. 

Gaze hooded, pupils blown, he didn’t look at you with that usual warmth. No, he looked at you like a man that had crawled back from death just to rip you apart. And you had half the mind to wonder whether this was some special grade curse that had just come disguised as your best friend. 

“Are you okay?” you try again, raising a hand to cup his cheek. “Toru?”

Oh, you might as well have just signed your own will, because no sooner are the words out of your mouth before Satoru’s jolting. Like the mere sound of that stupid little nickname from high school was enough to shock him to his very core. 

Electrify him just enough to finally look at you like it was the first time. Like he was seeing you after a thousand years. “My love.”

There it was again, that quiet, strained little mantra. 

Followed very closely by the deafening slam! of the door behind him, so hard that you spy one of the hinges rattling off. Startled, you look over Satoru’s broad shoulders just to catch a glimpse of the single, large handprint charred into the wood, slight steam wafting from his hand.

Shit. He’s lost it.

Almost like the strongest has forgotten his restraint - or didn’t care about it either way. Heated, you wondered what this boded for you. 

Will you be lucky number one on his kill list? You wonder, as Satoru presses his mouth right above your pulse. Racing. Dangerous. Feeling the rapid thump! thump! thump! under his lips.

Breathing you in, dragging his nose up, up, up- He mutters into your skin, “Y’can kill me if you don’t want this.” Will you go down - if there’s anyone left to remember, that is - as the casualty that surely and officially signaled the honored one’s descent into madness? Only the second best friend he had to kill?

Or, Satoru pulls away slowly from his little haven, breath ghosting your lips as he gasps out a shaky, “No God can take me away without doing this.” Will it be something else entirely?

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. 

Because fuck, how could you not? This is Satoru, and this is all you’ve ever wanted since those late night convenience store runs in high school, hand-in-hand and teleporting away from a furious Yaga.

The same Satoru that had cockily winked at you goodbye before facing Sukuna - leaving you crying with nothing to hold onto but those cold, cold hands and wishes that you’d have just fucking kissed him before. Maybe even put aside your pride to just tell him.

But none of that mattered now, because Satoru was so desperate - drinking you in like you were the last breath of air on Earth. Like it hurt more to part with your lips than it was to be cleaved in half.

Such a mess of teeth and saliva, and you were addicted. Drunk off his sweet taste - like candy, almost, and those cheap mochi he always got from downtown - and the electricity pricking at you each time your skin grazed against his.

It almost hurt - but it hurt so good.

Gasping, you pull away for air - impossible with the way Satoru was like a madman, kissing your swollen lips again and again and-

“Toru!” you squeal, muffled through his lips. “Aren’t you-” His mouth drops into a soft oh! at the delicate strings of saliva snapping in the non-existent space between you two. Surging forward like he couldn’t help himself. “Battlefield- mmpf- now?”

With a pained grunt, Satoru finally halts, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. And if you were in any better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed the brief flicker of blue lightning all over his body. The way the lights flicker. 

“Special curtain.” he pants against your open mouth, a muscled thigh shoving between your weakening legs. “Time barely passes in here.”

You don’t know what your head is reeling more from his words or his hands - hands that kill - caressing you like a lover everywhere. Unable to decide between your hips, to your ass, to your pretty pretty face. Kiss-bitten lips uttering, “Everyone’s waiting for you.”

“So?” Satoru lets out a humorless laugh. About an octave higher than usual, like he was at the end of his rope now. Eyes hazy and glowing, looking as if it took everything in him to not just tear off that uniform and take you right now. 

“But-”

“Shut up and let me ruin you, my love.”

Your back is hitting the mattress before you can even start to wonder what the fuck is happening. One second standing at the doorway and the other all sprawled out on Satoru’s bed.

Besides yourself, you blurt out, trying to make sense of the situation to both of you two. “Did- did you just teleport us?”

“Don’t know.” he answers. And Satoru sounded like he genuinely didn’t know, as bewildered as you were. Powers acting before him - way, way before he can think - as he fists your shirt in his hands. “Don’t care.”

And you half wondered whether Satoru was even aware of what he was doing as he pulls, down, down down. 

Rip!

It tears through the air - both the sound, and the way he’s just pulling your shirt to shreds. All depravity and no repentance as Satoru throws it behind God-knows-where. Buttons hitting the floor at a maddening little rhythm to which he was slowly losing his sanity. 

He was kissing you like he was angry - taking it out on your poor clothes. Because before you know it, he’s pulling your bra off. Fingers searing on your skin, skirt just tatters on the floor. 

“Waited too long.” he groans, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “Always wanted to do this.” And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into the valley of your breasts, “Ever since I first saw you and oh-”

That was it - only one look at your panties, all flimsy and drenched - and you’re back to wondering what Satoru’s kill count would be. You shudder as his eyes widen, letting out a strangled gasp from some deep, primal part of himself. Voice so broken and starved as he muses, “-can’t believe I waited this long.”

Shit. You weren’t making it out alive.

Immediately, Satoru’s dropping further down the mattress, easily pushing your knees up all the way till they were at your breasts. 

And it was so unfair. 

Unhair how he was still fully clothed, while you were spread so shamefully. Unfair how he was sliding his underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Up and down, up and down up and- Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips before pulling, marveling at how sinfully soaked they were. 

And it was like something snapped - maybe his whatever restraint he had left, probably you by the end of this. Because just a split-second later, Satoru’s tearing right through your panties. Not even taking a second to breathe before burying his pretty face into your dripping cunt. 

Unfair how you were liking it so dangerously. Being so used. 

And Satoru knows - he thinks, with whatever rationality he has left intact - that he wants to admire your pretty lil’ cunt. To finally drink in what he’s been dreaming about for years all these lonely nights. But, no, that’s for later - for a different Satoru, one that didn’t feel like he was going to fucking die if he didn’t taste you right now. 

“Ah! Hngh- T-Toru-” you arch into his hot tongue, as he licks erratically up your folds, long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Lapping at your juices like he couldn’t stop.

“Tha’s right.” words muffled into your cunt. Throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders. “Gimme more, use me. Use me- fuck fuck fuck- yeah.”

He sounded as delirious as you were already, flinching with each word spat into your sensitive cunt. Drunk off your pussy and so messy, like he was well and fully intent on ruining you. 

And it’s all you can do to sob so needily as he swirls his tongue around your sensitive clit. Seemingly unable to decide between sucking on it harshly and dipping into your sloppy hole. In and out. Wanting everything. Anything. 

“Fuck. S’too deep. Sh-shit.”

“Oh yeah?” he’s grinning, a cruel, cold little grin. You can feel it as he rolls his tongue against your clit over and over. “S’not deep enough.”

You pathetically try to close your legs around his head in shock, as the tips of his long fingers spread open your pussy further, teasing your entrance. 

But who were you against the strongest? The one that got everything handed to him on a silver platter since birth? Except you - until now, that is.

Because Satoru’s swatting thighs back open like it was a mere inconvenience, and feel your cunt clench in- fear? Anticipation? as you realize how gently he was throwing you around like a ragdoll, in comparison to that door from earlier. 

“No.” he sounds absolutely wrecked, babbling around your throbbing clit. “Need this- need you.”

And then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, so greedily that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Drinking in your pretty gasps of his name as he roams for that one spot he knows will have you seeing stars - only the best for his girl, right? The only thing on his mind right now, like a predator starved.

You can only tug on his hair and buck wildly underneath him, inching Satoru closer to where he was desperately searching for. Close - so close. 

“Toru-” you moan, like a prayer. 

But it wasn’t fast enough. 

Not for Satoru, at least.

Even through the haze in your eyes, you could make out that brief flash of electric blue in-between your legs, eyes widening as ah-

That cheat. 

You wondered if he even knew he was using his powers right now. Or whether Satoru was too far gone at this point. Way too smug with the way he hits that one spot. Hard. 

Ah, you quiver as something so dark sparks in his eyes. Looking like a man starved, that had finally come across his favorite meal. Moving with frightening accuracy as he pumps his fingers in and out, hitting it each and every time. 

“Shit, ngh-” you let out a shrill moan, “It’s too good. You’re so fucking-” 

One hand was so messy toying with your dripping entrance - the other digging into your hips. Dragging your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. 

Hard enough that you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. If you even made it that long, that is, if the tiny shocks of electricity at his fingertips told you anything. 

Desperate. Violent, even.

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. “Fuck- m’cumming m’cumming, fuck fuck fuck-” You’re shaking as you cum, crying out Satoru’s name and delirious little moans that you’d otherwise be embarrassed of. 

And he doesn’t stop. Not when you’re blinking your vision back. Not when you’re shying away from his tongue, the stars behind your eyes too much with each flick of his tongue. 

“S’too much- too- fuck, sensitive, Toru.” you whine, big fat tears clinging to your lashes. 

Ah, there it was again. Just when Satoru was beginning to think that he might just be veering into a state of mind that could be considered sane - you have to call him that goddamn nickname again. And it’s only driving him wild. 

Well, he muses, fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt, it’s really on you then. 

You let out a fucked-out little whine as Satoru finally takes his shirt off, revealing such milky, toned skin. All sharp curves and dips like he was sculpted so meticulously, going down, down, down and- Your breath hitches at the large, pink scar standing out of his torso, so uneven and fresh that you feel a fresh wave of tears - different ones, this time. 

You take a steadying breath, eyes unmoving from the injury. “Satoru-”

“No.” Satoru’s tone is firm, so different from the metallic tinkling of his belt. He was moving now, shifting in between your legs to kiss those tears away. “Need this. Need you. Need you need you need you so bad-”

“But your…” you trail off. The words catch in your throat as he finally unbuckles his belt, pulling down his pants just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, soaked in precum. 

He was so…massive. Now, you expected your best friend to have a big dick, but this was ridiculous. He was so intimidatingly long, thick enough that you could feel the slick beading out of your sloppy hole already.

Yeah, you definitely weren’t making it out alive. 

Satoru sees it too, of course, because his cock twitches furiously. A low hiss leaving those pretty pink lips before he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Once. Twice. 

And you know that if this shameless bastard could use six eyes to find your g-spot, then he could’ve done the same for this. But, no, he lets some of it miss, splattering against your inner thigh, smearing all over as Satoru thumbs in his saliva with your slick. 

God, he was treating you like some object. Wordlessly throwing your legs over his shoulders, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy. 

And then you feel like you’re been split apart - because Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. As was his aching cock. He’s barely even pressing through the first ring of muscle, and you already feel like he’s pushing all the way into your lungs. 

“T-Toru.” you yelp, glancing down at the way your pussy was stretched so lewdly around his thick cock. Quivering as he keeps pushing and pushing and- no mercy. Absolutely none at all. “Can feel you so deep inside ngh- I don’t think I can…” 

“No no no no no-” he’s panting into your open mouth. Fucking into your heavenly cunt in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to squeeze deeper inside. “Need this. Want this. Always did. God, fuck fuck fuck, you can do it-”

“But-”

God, Satoru can’t help but kiss you - to shut those cute lil’ whines up more than anything, he’s sure he’ll cum right there and right now if he didn’t. 

Because Satoru wasn’t any better. Body bowing into yours, eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth falling into a delirious oh! as he finally bottoms out. Balls smacking your ass too hard, your pussy too tight, you too beautiful underneath him. 

Blindly, he reaches for the headboard - white-knuckling it so hard that it’s a wonder it doesn’t break. 

It does - and later you’ll find a pile of splinters behind the bed. It’s just that neither of you notice. Too high off the feeling of Satoru’s cock pushing inside you. You’re clawing at his back now, gasping for air. Letting him fold you in half to filthily lick away the tears pooling at your cheeks. 

“Shit- y’got this, my love. You gotta- ah- Breathe-” he can’t even speak properly, sharp tongue so heavy. Eyes glowing with such insanity as he rocks his hips harder into yours.

He was right - you needed to breathe. To finally wrap your head around the fact that this was Satoru - your best friend - the same one that binge-watches sappy rom-coms with you after every breakup. Every. Single. One. Somehow, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Both of you were barely-lucid at this point. And he was out of control now.

Funny, how in all his dreams when you were screaming his name - Satoru was always suave, methodical, playing with your pretty pussy like a fine instrument. Right now, he was anything but. Sloppy - like he didn’t have enough time, never would, even in this room where time slowed.

“Don’t you run away.” he grunts at the way you’re so adorably torn between running away from his cock and bucking for more more more- “Waited twelve fucking years for this. N’ m’gonna take it.”

You almost sob at the pressure as he laces his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper. Down, down, down. “S’too good, Toru. Wan’ more-”

“More.” Satoru breathes, more to himself than anything. Eyes widening almost comically, a fucked-out smile spreading all over his face. “Y’want more even when you’re filled to-” He traces an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “Here?”

“Yes.” you gasp as he reaches down to toy with your throbbing clit, drawing tight, frenzied little circles. Balls smacking your ass so painfully, thumb pressing down right where his tip was hitting your cervix - as if he used six eyes to see. “Always wanted more. Always have, Toru.”

And you swear you could see something physically snap inside Satoru. Because his eyes glaze over, grin dropping instantly from his face. 

If you weren’t so cockdrunk maybe you’d have caught the way the bedroom lights flicker, the one down the hallway bursting. 

“Always, huh?” he’s muttering, grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Wanted more like me?” Rocking into you so sloppily, cock twitching so painfully as he speeds up. Fingers just as desperate - as depraved as his hips.

And this time, he doesn’t even have to use six eyes to find that one spot. Knowing your body well enough to hit it over and over until you were sobbing. “More more more more- fuckin’ take it then.”

At this point you didn’t know whether Satoru was always this ruthless in bed or you’d just broken him. It felt so good that it was almost scary. And your delirious mind wandered into the thought that maybe the bed would break - and your bones to follow. 

Well, they would have if Satoru hadn’t been using reversed cursed technique. But you didn’t need to know that just yet. 

“Satoru-” you squeal as he only gets more erratic.  “I’m…”

“Close?” Satoru’s grunting, smacking his lips against your own.

It’s laughable, really, that muffled question - because Satoru knew you were close. Losing his fucking mind, actually, at how you were squeezing so hard around him. Balls squeezing so painfully right now, but he wanted you to cum first - needed you to cum first.

“Yeah, so close. Wan’ cum- Ah! Please-”

“Then cum. Fucking cum, wan’ed this so bad.” he’s babbling deliriously. Little sparks of lightning visible even to your glassy eyes, fingers humming with a dangerous little energy that stimulated you so good. “Yeah, yeah yeah yeah fucking cum, wanna hngh-”

And then you are. So sudden and hard that you don’t even realize it at first. Just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Rocking your hips into Satoru’s like such a slut. 

Oh, if heaven was really then the part of Satoru that can still form coherent thoughts thinks this just might be it. 

Because only the sight of you creaming all around his swollen cock and he’s cumming and cumming so hard that it hurts. Thick, hot ropes of cum that he can’t seem to stop. Doesn’t want to stop, and God he thinks he could cum until you beg and beg and beg it’s too much. Until you’re yelling for-

“Mercy!” you moan, head spinning with how fucking overfilled your pussy was. “Please, Toru-”

Satoru lets out a slight gasp, “Mercy?” Chuckling so cruelly at your dazed nod, “No mercy, my love. None at all.”

And God, it was so fucking hard to look at him too - eyes half-lidded and miles away, flushed and looking like he was anywhere but laid out on a hospital bed just a few minutes ago. In fact, Satoru looked like he was in heaven on Earth as he only milked his painfully hard cock on your snug pussy.

Pretty. Always so fucking pretty. 

And he kept whispering that, over and over in your ear as you both ride out your highs. Oh how he loved you.

Your eyes fly open, and Satoru knew he’d said that out loud. Shit. But, well, with the way you were immediately pulling him to collapse into your arms, he thinks he really doesn’t mind.

“Love you, love you. Love you so much. Always did, always wanted to love you- to fuck you.” You barely even notice him marking down your neck, sharp canines digging into the flesh like he wanted to break something. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood. “To ruin you.”

It was oozing out of you, both Satoru’s cum - dribbling down your legs in thick globs, pooling on the overpriced sheets below - and his power. Jolts of electricity running down all the way from your poor, abused cunt to your hazy mind. 

“So do it.” The air was crackling - crackling with intensity and the smell of jujutsu. It was in your veins, in your words as you whisper, “Ruin me. You’re the- ngh- only- one f’me, Toru. Always was.”

The lights go out. All of them - all across Tokyo, in fact. Shining so bright that it was blinding, until they burst. The last thing you see are his eyes - electrified with blue lightning, burning into your brain. 

And then it’s black. 

---

“I’ll be back before ya know it, my love.” he whispers against your forehead, cooing at the way you stir sleepily. “Gotta pest to take care of.”

Taking down that curtain wasn’t the hard part, the hard part was actually fucking regaining his senses enough to do so. 

And now, all cleaned up and fucked to sleep on his bed, you were looking so unbearably delectable that it made some part of Satoru just want to stay behind this curtain. To forget the waiting sorcerers on the battlefield. Saving the world be damned.

Well, no matter, Satoru had time. He was the strongest, right? After all, how could he give you the world if there was no world to give?

“N’ when I’m back, m’gonna kiss ya to death till you go out with me. Till everyone knows you’re unmistakably mine.”

A/N. GET IT - that unmistakable bit from the panel? 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[roseband]

...

[muntitled]

Girl On TV

Pairings: Namgyu x Fem!Reader

Summary: After being humiliated by his not-so-innocent friends for being far too innocent, you decide not to be such a prude for once in your life

Warnings: Language, Substance Abuse, Toxic Relationship, Male Manipulation, Virgin!Reader, Coercion, Peer Pressure, Drug Use, Virginity shaming, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Sadism, Sadomasocism, Grinding, Porn, Corruption Kink, Pillow Humping, Mutual Masterbation

A/n: I love being a problematic Namgyu stan

You hadn't known it would come down to this.

Had you been told before you would be dragged to sit on his lap under the dim lights of Club Pentagon and made to see this... you might not even have some at all.

Perhaps if he had invited you under the guise of distracting you from academics for one Friday night, you might've been more open.

Less of a prude.

But you had never seen such a clean line of powder stretched across the table in your life. In fact your body burns with not only embarrassment at being in the proximity of such hardcore drugs, but your bones were also set alight in fear.

The arms that have been cradling your waist pulls you in tighter, making you feel smaller than you actually were on his lap. This is what you loved about him. He liked you. Your curves. Your face. Your everything.

You could stick this out, couldn't you?

You should.

"Woah," He calmly whispers into your ear. All at once, every morsel of discomfort is driven out by your overwhelming need to please him.

The club is dark.

The music is good.

Namgyu's pulled you onto his lap in front of an embarrassingly large group of strangers. Everything is perfect.

"What's wrong?" He's so attentiative, bending his head down to whispers conspiratorially into your hair. His voice drowns out the oppressive rap song being performed on the center stage on the ground floor of the club and for all of five minutes its just you and him and the cocaine. Buy mainly, just him.

"You're strung up." He whispers.

You're quiet for a few tense minutes, wondering if you should voice your concerns and risk having him disappointed in you for not having fun like he intended.

"I don't know if I'm too comfortable."

"Here?" You hear him whisper, slightly poking his head forward to nudge his nose into the back of your neck, "With me?" He's using that petulant almost needy voice of his when he's inebriated and it tugs at something deeply troubled inside you.

"Not with you," you reassure him, "With that-" you nudge your head forward slightly, leading his half-lidded eyes to the long stripe of cocaine marring the table. "And your friends," you reluctantly murmur, letting yourself sink against him as if he had the power to scare these drunken people away. As if he wasn't forcing you here, amongst them at all.

"You know Thanos is a big name in the club scene-" He begins and you cut him off by sighing very loudly as you resch forward to grab your glass of water off the small, reflective table.

Thoroughly annoyed because he's sung this song before.

"I know, Namgyu but-"

His fingers weave into themselves around your waist, securing you against him like a baby, "Just be cool for like 40 minutes- maybe and hour-"

Your blood pressure skyrocketed as you turned back to shoot him, not only a look of immense incredulousness but betrayal.

"Namgyu, you said you wanted to take me out- yeah? Not your friends-”

"-Then we can get out of here, and I'll give you all the kisses you want."

You sigh heavily once more. “You didn't say anything about-"

He loosens his grip from your waist before standing up, forcing you to stand up in the process.

"He's coming," he whispers, keeping his eye off into the distance. His attention is much not on you and your present moral struggles.

"This is work, baby, you know this-"

"Namgyu- I have a test on-"

He pinches your side as a new guest enters the section. "Shh." Namgyu whispers at the same time the guest's boisterous hollers cause you to quite literally flinch.

"Yo, Namsu!" He's dripping in gold chains and purple hair. "Who is this fine Senorita you've brought with you?" He asks despite having two women under his arm. "You trying to outdo me bro?" Thanos takes a seat directly beside you and Your boyfriend.

"This is my girl-" He says at the same time Namgyu pulls you back onto his lap.

"It's Nam-Gyu-" you say through gritted teeth. "Not Nam-Su." Your eyes are narrowed at the man who only listens and smiles.

You glare daggers at the man before your boyfriend taps you slightly, reminding you to answer. “I have water- so no thank you." You say before mumbling, "I'm not a snitch either-"

"Is she partaking with us?" He asks your boyfriend, despite looking right at you. “Or is she a snitch?"

The girl under Thanos' arm snickers. "Water?"

You once again, tried to crawl further into Namgyu's lap.

He, thankfully tightened his grip around your waist, never letting you go as he conversed in inebriated chatter with Thanos. The more drugs they consumed the louder they got, until Namgyu started flailing his right arm wildly while he told a story, still having somewhat enough sense to keep a languid grip on your waist.

Somewhere, amongst all the useless chatter, you decided to add in your two cents, snickering quietly to yourself as you mumbled over the rim of your glass, "I've actually never watched porn before-"

"What do you mean you've never watched porn before?" Your eyes widen when you realize you'd spoken louder than you intended to and one of Thanos' girls snicker loudly. The sound carries across the table to his degenerate friends and their girlfriend's and causes a whole new wave of laughter to be birthed from your embarrassment.

You begin to squirm in Namgyu's lap.

Despite the drugs and the loud music, the two of you were having such a nice evening... You never fancied partying much and yet, your boyfriend had to sink his claws into you to get you to agree to one night of partying. The consequences of that decision are playing out in front of you.

"You've been banging a virgin this entire time?" Thanos asks Namgyu the same time and nameless girl says-

"Even I've watched porn."

Despite the anxiety flooding your veins at being the center of unwanted attention, Namgyu's grip around your waist is firm. It keeps you grounded. It tightens around you now, nudging you against him like his nose at the nape of your neck.

"Have I?" Namgyu asks with his eyes as hazy as the city caught in dusk. There isn't alcohol on his breath, only a light dust of snow under his nose.

"Have you what?" You ask, staring down at your trembling hands.

"Been dealing with a virgin this entire time?" He asks, unraveling your very private life to a room full of strangers. He's high. And incredibly loose with his mouth. You have to find it in you to take his inebriation into account but you only feel annoyed.

“Is that why you don't do drugs with me?"

"I don't do drugs with you because I actually value my health-"

"Sick burn," Thanos snorts in his little corner.

Your eyes widen. Your throat tightens.

These aren't your people.

Your people are nestled in the university library, cramming one final time before their semester tests.

Yet here you were, caught under a thick cloud of smoke that had your throat burning, all for a boy.

And admittedly priceless one.

"Don't be an asshole." You turn to glare daggers at him.

"Don't be a prude-" he shoots back. A few locks of hair fall from behind his ear as he watches you with a darkened gaze. "Is that why we haven't had sex yet?" Your heart plummets, "cus you're a virgin?” Namgyu asks. You don't know which side he's on.

"Woah!? A virgin in the flesh-" Thanos hollers, staring at you like a specimen in a petri dish. He nudges the girl under his arm, "I'd cheat on you if you ever tried that shit with me.”

"I know!" The girl responds before turning to look at you with dazed, dilated pupils. "Aren't you scared he's gonna do something if you wait too long?"

These aren't your people.

"If Namgyu wants to sleep with someone then by all means-"

You wrestle out of his iron grip, thanking God for the water that's keeping you sober and steady on your feet.

"Ooh, spicy, spicy-" Thanos mumbles

"Can I go please?" Namgyu keeps his hand in yours, looking up at you with a deadly glare.

"Nah, you leave when I leave, I'm still working-"

You pull your hand out of his.

"I have a test on Tuesday. Goodnight.

Its not like you thought he would follow you. Namgyu was especially selfish, as was the case for most addicts. Right now, you imagine him snapping out of his daze, leaning back over that table, tucking his hair behind his ears as he snorted up whatever Thanos wanted him to.

You didn't think you were being followed and so you feel thoroughly and completely alone once you get to your apartment.

Despite being completely alone this evening, you still try to hide what you're watching on your phone. Your headsets are pulled over your ears, your head reclined against the arm of the couch while your blankie was pulled over your supine frame. You hadn't exactly planned on watching porn this evening but the group's bullying had left you curious.

The girl projected on your phone screen looks up at the actor about to rail her insides. "You've been a bad girl,"

You roll your eyes into the back of your skull. This was precisely why you refrained from mainstream porn. Some of the best stuff was either in your audio files or in your reading list. Visual porn never did much for you- until you scrolled a little too far down to a new, more promising video.

The actress has a crimson handprint on her ass, as her dom forces her to ride her pillow. Despite the difference in skin tone and the overall mediocre acting, you were having a considerable amount of fun imagining yourself in her place. You thought about an invisible collar clamped around your throat with a big, strong, domineering man loomed above you, forcing you to push your clit right up against-

The more you slipped into a pleasure filled haze. You watch with bated breath.

"Sh-it-" you nearly fall off the couch. Your phone plops out of your slippery hands, right onto your face and your headphones slide off. Standing above you, is Namgyu, trying to fight a grin off his face as he stares down at you. You look up at him with wide, frightened eyes.

"Wh-when did you get back home?" the words barely leave your mouth before Namgyu's grabbing your phone.

"Naughty, naughty girl," He doesn't seem surprised to see the contents on your screen. In fact, the only giveaway that he saw anything at all is the slight flicker his eyes make towards you, before he stares back down at the phone.

"H-How was 'work'?" You're desperately trying to steer your attention away from the blatant porn on your phone screen, away from the smirk on his face as he bites his lips, away from his exposed tattoos in his short sleeve shirt.

"Work was work." He replied, still watching the porn, "I'm high as shit." He says casually as he disappears into the bedroom, your phone still in his hand.

"Hard too." He says when he returns. Your phone clutched in one hand and the large teddy bear he bought you for your 21st clutched in the other hand. You furrow your brows up at him, confused when he takes a seat on the couch. Your feet against his thigh as he clicks a few buttons on your phone before seating the giant teddy bear beside him.

He grabs the remote before pressing a few buttons.

You freeze when you hear the moans first.

Your gaze catches the TV.

There, the girl from your screen rides her pillow and you're forced to watch.

You're almost too embarrassed to feel turned on. Ungluing your eyes from the TV, you instead watch your hands in your lap.

He places a hand under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He's sitting comfortably on his side, remarkably unfazed by the girl's pornographic moans.

"Fuck the bear." Is all he says, as he leans against his arm and he strokes your chin. Petting you.

"Wha-"

"You gonna make me ask again?"

It's something in his tone and his hazy, half-lidded gaze that kickstarts your senses as you languidly stand on your feet. You're trembling and he reaches out to interlock your hands in his. Namgyu loved how eager yet innocent you are for him. He can see in the clumsiness of your movements that you were already slipping into subspace. With trembling fingers, you reach up to the thin straps of your pyjama dress and he nods his head.

"Should I take off my panties too?" Your voice is small.

Namgyu tilts his head. "You even have to ask?"

Behind you, the girl's breathing doubles and her moans increase.

"Better hurry or she's gonna cum." He taunts, watching like a stone statue as you mount the bear seated beside him. Namgyu's breathing catches as you straddle the bear, your movements tense and uncertain.

"Fuck the bear-" you lower your cunt onto the fur material and you moan, having not realized how wet you'd actually been this entire evening.

"That's it- fuck." He spreads his legs, leaning back more as he lets his hand brush over the tent in his jeans.

You don't moan because it feels good. It doesn't. Not immediately at least. You moan because Namgyu is watching. Reclined against the couch as his eyes stay on you.

"Ride the plushie like the girl in the video." He says. Your throat dries when he continues to languidly stroke his hand over the bulge in his sweatpants.

"Fuck- Gyu," he knew when the nickname fell from your lips that you were done for.

You both were.

Your eyes steadily roll to the back of your head as you grind your pussy against the bear, already creating a wet spot.

Behind you, you heard the girl moan and whine and somehow that spurrs you on.

"So fucking needy-” you gasp when you feel a hand cupping your exposed breasts. Namgyu reaches over to tweak your nipples just as his other hand finally slips inside his pants.

"Crane your fucking neck back. Try to watch the slut make herself cum." When you do, your hips stutter hard and your clit twitches.

"You watch her." Namgyu commands, stroking his exposed cock, "I'd rather watch you."

As you watch, his mouth runs. Namgyu swore a lot but it doubled when he caught himself in the throes of arousal.

“You look just like that bitch, you know that?”

Your mouth snaps open as you watch her. Your expression is pained.

“You want everyone to think you're such a quiet little girl but your just a slut, yeah?” He speaks lpuder, “Just my fucking slut- fuck.” It nearly causes you to cum everywhere. Her hand is pushing down on the face of the poor, poor pillow as she rides it. You can tell she's close.

Unable to look any longer, you turn back. Your hazy eyes meets Namgyu's dilated ones. He's stroking his cock, head thrown back against the back of the couch, mouth slightly ajar. His cock is throbbing in his hand and he squeezes, showing you the precum sliding down the length.

"Gyu, please-" you grinded harder against the plushy and Namgyu picked up the pace.

"You imagining me fucking you, huh?" He throws his head back, closing, his eyes momentarily close as his cock twitches in his hand.

"Fuck- I-" your clit was rubbing against the plushie just right. Namgyu's fingers mercilessly squeezing your nipples have you seeing stars. This friction was enough.

Fuck.

Air could be enough to let you come in this moment. All you had to do was buck your hips a little more- but the pain blooming across your breasts were distracting you from cumming.

"Please-" your whole body was trembling- "It fucking hurts!"

His mouth falls open at that, before leaning his head against the couch. He squeezes the base of his cock and you watch the precum slide down its length.

"Fuck, say that again-" he brings his head back before stroking his cock faster. "Fuck the plushie, baby," His hips move up from the couch to meet his hand. "Tell me it hurts again-"

He sits up to tweak your nipples again and you whine. "H-Hurts so bad-"

"Yeah, Princess, just like that," he groans, throwing his head back, "Such a stupid fucking slut-" he admits, voice groggy.

Somehow that final degradation has your hips twitching as your clit spasms and you slip into the stars.

The second you cum, Namgyu does too. Cursing and mumrering a quiet and slightly broken, "Fuck- such s-slut-" before reaching over to grab a fistfull of your braids. Your hips are still writhing, your eyes as blank as a corpse as he pulls you forward to spray his cum all over your face.

He squeezes his cock, unable to keep his pretty eyes shut as he watches you writhe and moan. "Fuck me-" he sighs.

"Don't watch this shit again." He says, huffing and puffing. "It's bad for you."

In a second, he presses a button on the remote and the TV screen is black.

"If you need dick, come to me."

"You were making f-fun of me," you grumble under your breath, and you sigh heavily.

Your eyes are shut but you can feel him playing with his cum on your face.

"I wasn't making fun of you. I was just surprised. You're surprising." There's a thick layer of emotion in his voice. It has your body wracking with aftershocks. "You're not like anything I've ever experienced."

[foolinthera1n]

oh so close

after a tough case, you and dean both need some stress relief. luckily, you have each other.

cw, smut! oral (f!receiving), praise kink, needy!dean, kind of softdom!dean, dirty talk, unprotected p in v (wrap it before u tap it folks), slight overstimulation, (sorry if i missed anything else!)

note, this had taken me literally so long to write because i cringe at every other line, but oh well. anyways, here is my first smut - any feedback would be appreciated!

but now, but now somehow

my words roll off my tongue right onto your lips.

*

lips. teeth. dean.

those are the only words going through your head as dean's hands squeeze your hips, tugging you closer to him with one swift movement, his mouth never leaving yours.

the hunt had been rough, and you knew that you both needed some stress relief, feeling the need buzz beneath your skin.

you knew dean felt the same way, you could hear it in his gruff tone when he told sam goodnight, not uttering another word as he pulled you into your shared motel room. you could see it as his darkened eyes bored into yours when he shut the door, swiftly locking it behind him. you could feel it when he grabbed you, crashing his lips to yours harshly. but like hell were you complaining.

you moan as dean nips at your bottom lip, groaning against your mouth, his hands winding into your hair tightly. you feel him kick off his boots, and take the hint to do the same, keeping your mouth locked with his. your own hands creep up over his strong shoulders, nails digging into the smooth skin at the base of his neck for a moment before slipping up to tangle in his hair. you gasp into his mouth as dean's hands suddenly come up to your shirt, tangling in the hem of it before ripping it harshly over your head, the display of strength making your knees weak.

with one last suck of your tongue, he pulls away from your mouth, trailing his lips across your cheek, along your jaw and down to your neck, sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin of your pulse point. the sharp sting makes you gasp, your head dizzy from the blurry line of pain and pleasure.

"sorry, baby, y'just feel so good," dean mumbles into your neck, soothing his bite with a swipe of his tongue that coaxes a needy moan from your throat. "fuck, need you, sweetheart, need you s'bad."

"dean," you whimper breathlessly, head spinning as his lips continue their onslaught of your neck. "please-"

"yeah, yeah, i gotch'a.." he mutters, sucking below the corner of your jaw before bending down, tapping the back of your thigh. taking the hint, you wrap your arms around his neck before hoisting yourself up. dean catches you easily, his arms going under your thighs and big hands splayed over your ass.

as soon as your legs are secured tightly around his waist, dean starts walking you over to the bed, lips still working incessantly at your skin. as the feeling of pure need boiling in your blood becomes too much, your hands slip down to grab dean's face, pulling him back up to your mouth.

dean groans into the messy kiss, his hands squeezing your ass before unceremoniously dropping you on the bed. you land with a gasp, pushing yourself up on your elbows as he stands above you, tearing off his flannel and t shirt, tossing it behind him. tilting your head up to look at him again, your heart stutters at the sight above you.

dean is towering over you, his shoulders tensed, hands in tight fists and jaw clenched, but oh, his eyes. his piercing emerald eyes were looking down at you like he wanted to devour you.

you both stay still for a moment, just taking each other in, the only sound in the room being your labored breaths as you just stared at one another. dean breaks the moment suddenly, practically pouncing on you with a sound that almost sounds like a growl.

perfectly chapped lips crash onto yours as calloused hands latch onto your waist, caressing your skin in gentle movements that counter the rough attack on your mouth. you moan into his mouth, body arching up into him on instinct, your hands wrapping around him and grasping at the hard muscles of his shoulders.

weak pleas of his name are swallowed by his wanting mouth, your words not reaching him as he loses himself in you like he so desperately needs to. his teeth nip at your bottom lip, almost as if to distract you as his hand snakes up from your waist under the arch of your back, his fingers expertly unclasping your bra.

finally accepting he needs air and wanting to see your bare skin for himself, dean pulls away from your lips, holding himself up on his hands over you. you lay there panting under him, watching his eyes follow the movement of his hands as they pull your bra straps from your shoulders, ripping it from your body.

when his hands move down to your worn down jeans, you push yourself up onto your hands, tilting your head to attach your lips to his neck. you suck harshly at the smooth skin at his collarbone, pulling a groan from him that only fuels the flood between your legs.

"dean..." you whisper against his skin, relishing in the way his hands stutter at your waistband. your lips continue painting his neck, trying to convey what you want with your teeth and tongue.

"shh, i know, shit, i know, baby," he mutters, eyes slipping shut for a brief moment before they open again as his shaking hands undo your jeans and start to tug them down your legs. you help him by lifting your hips, one hand wrapped around his shoulder and the other one planted on the mattress to hold you up as your lips stay attached to his neck.

as soon as you kick your jeans away, dean's hands are gripping your waist, effortlessly lifting you and moving you to rest your head on the pillows. you lay back, lips parted and swollen as you pant heavily, eyes wide and needy as you watch him.

"fuck, look at you, sweetheart," dean whispers, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes rake over your nearly naked body, his gaze making you shiver. he leans over you again, breath fanning your face before he's gone again, dipping his head down to trail hot, wet kisses down your neck. "my pretty girl, all laid out and needy f'me--god, how did i get so lucky, baby?"

you can only moan in response, your head dropping back onto the pillows to give him better access to your skin as your hands dive into his hair, tangling in the short, spiky strands. dean's lips burn a trail down your neck and along your collarbone and all you can think about is how much you need him. how much you crave his touch, his gaze, his attention, his everything. if he wanted you to, you would sit still for hours, never moving a muscle as he painted himself into your skin, proving to you, himself, and everybody else that you were his.

you're snapped out of your aching thoughts when dean nips at your hip bone, causing you to yelp slightly. you lift your head from the scratchy pillows, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at him.

"you with me, pretty girl?" dean asks, your hips gripped in his hands where he draws soothing circles into your skin with his rough fingers. "thought y'left me there for a second."

you shake your head, your tongue slipping out to wet your lips, fingers curling into the sheets below you when dean's hungry gaze tracks the movement. "m'here, was jus' thinking for a moment," you reply, your words already sounding slurred.

"m'kay good. 'cause i wanna see those pretty eyes locked on me when i make you feel good, yeah?" he croons, hands squeezing your hips ever so slightly. you nod, a soft groan escaping your lips as you let yourself fall back onto the bed, your head resting on the coarse pillow.

dean grins at your response, lowering his gaze between your legs as his hands spread your plush thighs, the sight making him let out a groan of his own. "fuck, sweetheart, you're soaked," he breathes, almost in awe as his hands tear off your panties, making you gasp at the sudden action.

"dean- oh-" you start to protest but are cut off as dean dives between your legs, flattening his tongue and licking a long stripe up your core, making your hips cant up off the bed. "oh shit-"

"don' move," dean mumbles from between your legs, the vibrations of his voice pulling a whimper from you. as if to enunciate his point, his large forearm moves from your thigh to wrap over your hip and your stomach, pinning your hips to the bed as his mouth wrecks you.

he swirls his tongue around your sensitive bud before sucking it between his lips, making your hands fly to his hair, gripping the short strands as if it's your lifeline. he sucks again, ripping a cry from your chest, and with a nudge of his broad shoulders, he lifts your thighs around his head, one hand gripping the plush fat of one, the other still holding your hips to the bed.

"oh god, dean-" you moan breathlessly, back arching off the bed when his tongue slips down to prod at your sopping entrance, the sensation shooting sparks of pleasure up your spine. "so good, feels s'good-"

his response is a deep groan, tongue moving back up to lap at your clit like it's water in the desert. your hands tighten in his hair, desperately trying to pull him closer, needy whimpers and whines falling from your kiss-bitten lips. you try to gasp for air, but cut yourself off with a broken moan as he plunges two fingers into your heart without warning, pumping them in tandem with his tongue.

"oh fuck, dean, please-" you babble, eyes rolling back as his fingers brush that gummy spot deep inside you.

dean kept his pace up, his tongue never slowing as he pumped and scissored his fingers inside you, almost as if he was trying to unravel you from the inside. you could feel the familiar tension building in your stomach, your back arching in a weak attempt to get away from him as the pleasure became nearly blinding.

"I can't, dean, I can't, shit, feels t'good-" you whimper, gritting your teeth and tossing your head back as you feel yourself get closer and closer to the edge.

"yes you can, baby," dean urges, lifting his mouth from your aching core just enough to speak, his eyes lifting to watch you as his fingers never break rhythm. "c'mon, cum for me sweetheart."

his rough words are all it takes for the band in your stomach to snap, dean's name leaving your lips in a cry as he sends you barreling over the edge so hard you swear you see stars behind your eyes. dean's fingers slow but don't stop, gently working you through your high as he presses kisses to your quivering thighs on his shoulders, whispering soft praises against your skin.

"that's my girl..shit, you're fuckin' drenching me, baby," he mutters, eyes glued to you as you come down from your release. "so good, such a good girl, hm?"

you whimper in response, your brain still too fuzzy with pleasure to respond properly. when you start to come down, his fingers still working at you are suddenly too much, oversensitivity making my legs twitch around his head. when you finally open your eyes, you lower your hooded gaze to dean between your legs, moving one of your hands from his hair to weakly grasp at his wrist, stopping his movement and getting his attention.

"need you, please dean, need you t'fuck me," you plead, your hand still in his hair tugging sharply to try and pull him up to you.

he grunts at your tug, obeying you and pulling his fingers from your quivering heat and bringing them to his mouth to lick clean as he crawls back over you. "mm, fuck pretty girl, y'taste like heaven," he groans, dipping down to capture your lips with his, shoving his tongue into your waiting mouth to make you taste yourself.

you moan into his mouth, the filthiness of the kiss making your toes curl as your teeth clash with his, his tongue swiping along the roof of your mouth as if to memorize the feel of it. you arch up into him, digging your nails into his scalp, your hips rolling up into his, whining into his mouth at the press of his arousal into your soaked core.

your shaky hands slip from his hair, lightly dragging your nails along his shoulders and down his toned chest, one lingering over the anti-possession tattoo inked into his skin while the other one falls down to the waistband of his jeans, fumbling with his belt.

dean groans against your mouth, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls away with a soft pop, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

"off," you rasp out, fingers fumbling with his belt buckle. dean makes a noise of agreement as he pulls away just enough so that you can both pull air into your lungs, ending up with you panting into each other's mouths as dean's hand drifts down to help you with his belt.

with a joint effort, you manage to undo his belt, both of your hands coming down to tug at his waistband with a frustrated whine. dean grunts in frustration as well, sitting back on his knees as he tries to maneuver out of his jeans and boxers.

as soon as the offending garments are far enough down his hips, you push up onto your knees, grabbing his shoulders and tugging his mouth back to yours. he makes a surprised sound and you use the opportunity to hook your foot around the back of his knee, gripping his shoulders tightly, and in one swift movement, you flip him over so he falls flat on his back, your legs straddling his hips.

a gasp leaves his slack, kiss-swollen lips as he falls on the bed, his lust blown eyes staring up at you so dark you can barely see the evergreen you love so much. as soon as his brain catches up, he kicks his jeans and boxers off his feet, letting them fall to the floor. you eagerly reach down between you, grasping his aching cock in your hand, pumping him a few times as you watch his face contort in pleasure below you.

"shit- baby, please," dean gasps, the air punched from his lungs when you swipe your thumb over his leaking tip. you don't respond, bringing your free hand to continue stroking him slowly as you lift your thumb to your lips, sucking his precum from your digit. he groans again, the sound strained as his hands fly to your hips, his blunt nails digging into your skin with the effort to not thrust up into your tempting heat. "c'mon, need you 'round me, sweetheart, please.."

though it's not the first time you've heard these please fall from his lips, hearing dean winchester beg for you, knowing he's a man who doesn't beg for anyone, breaks your barely kept self restraint.

you stop pumping him, leaning forward and bracing one hand on his chest as the other guides him to your entrance. you both let out a low moan as you sink down onto his length, the familiar stretch making your breath catch in your chest.

slowly, you take him in, desperate to feel every inch of him as your gummy walls suck him in greedily. dean lets out a soft groan at the intense feel of you around him, the sound making you clench around him, which causes his grip on your hips to tighten. after a few painstaking moments, you finally lower onto him fully, the plush of your ass meeting his hips, punching a broken moan from your chest.

dean watches you from below, his plush bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he fights the urge to thrust up into you, to move your hips, anything to feel more of you around him, to feel you come apart on him. "c'mon, sweetheart," he groans, the high pitch tone of his voice sounding dangerously close to a whine. "need you t'move, baby."

you nod at him, a low whine escaping your throat as you start to rock your hips back and forth on him, earning a moan of approval from him below you. you work his cock inside you until the burn of the stretch turns into simmering pleasure, climbing up from your core to the tips of your fingers that dig into his chest.

dean seems to decide that your pace is too slow for him, and with no warning, he grips your hips tighter, lifting you off his cock and slamming you back down at the same time his hips thrust up into you. the sudden action makes you cry out as his harsh thrust causes the tip of his cock to hit your cervix just right, your eyes rolling back into your head.

"shit- dean," you gasp, the air punched from your lungs as he slams you down onto him again, his cock deliciously kissing your cervix with every thrust. you move your hips as well, trying desperately to keep up with his rhythm but you can't, your thighs trembling around him as you cry out above him.

"that's it, fuck, so good, baby, such a good fuckin' girl, taking me so goddamn good," dean praises, his voice strained and breathy as he fucks up into you without abandon. you can only moan in response, but next thing you know, dean sits up abruptly, wrapping his arms around you, and the world is spinning.

he flips you with ease, his arms wrapped around your shoulders and waist lowering you back onto the bed, his cock never slipping from you. as soon as your safely placed on the mattress again, dean starts pistoning into you again, plunging into you like a man possessed. his head drops to your neck, chest pressed against yours as his teeth and tongue paint every patch of skin they can reach.

your reduced to a babbling, gasping mess as he pounds into you, the heat of his skin pressed against yours and his hot breath against your neck making you dizzy. your hands fly to his shoulders, nails dragging down his back as his cock hits that gummy spot inside of you.

the shock of pleasure from him hitting that spot forces a high pitched sound that resembled his name from your lips, making him nip at your neck, growling into your skin.

"oh, right there, huh? that the spot, baby?" dean huffs into your ear, angling his hips to hit that spot over and over again, so good you feel like your floating off the bed.

"uh huh, right there, right there- shit, so good," you moan, throwing your head back, eyes rolling into your skull and lips parted as your jaw goes slack from pleasure. you claw at his back, the sharp pain only spurring him on as he bites at your collarbone, fingers digging into the sheets next to your head.

"yeah, that's it baby..you're close, I can feel it- you're, shit, squeezin' me so fuckin' tight," he groans, tongue soothing over a bite mark left from his teeth.

you nod to the best of your ability, a loud, broken moan being pulled from your lips as one of his hands reaches down between you to rub his thumb in tight, almost harsh circles on your aching clit. it's almost too much, the blinding pleasure making your skin crawl, the band in your stomach getting dangerously close to snapping.

"oh fuck, dean, m'close, 'm so close-" you whimper, weakly lifting your hips the best you can to half-heartedly meet his thrusts.

"i know, baby, i know," he breathes into your ear, his thumb speeding up on your bundle of nerves, making you see stars behind your eyes. he lifts his head from your neck, smashing his lips to yours again, making you moan into his demanding mouth. "cum for me, pretty girl, c'mon, soak my fuckin' cock."

his words, muttered against your slack lips, send you flying over the edge with a scream of his name. your back arches under him, your nails digging so hard into his back you're sure you've drawn blood, but the thought is lost on you as your vision practically goes white with pleasure. you feel yourself gushing around his length, the blinding pleasure and slight overstimulation making a tear slip down your cheek.

"fuuck, good girl, baby, good fuckin' girl," dean grunts against your mouth as he feels you come apart around him, the intensity of you squeezing around him causing him to follow you over the edge with a groan of your name. you feel him twitch before he spills inside of you, the hot sensation of his cum filling your oversensitive cunt causing aftershocks to flow through you, making you moan weakly.

when he's finally spent, his hips slow to a stop, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as you both just lay there, catching your breath and coming down from the intense moment. your head is dizzy, and you can feel a few stray tears slipping down your cheeks as you lay there, spent.

after a few moments, dean lifts his head from your shoulder, one of his hands moving to cup your cheek gently, his touch a stark contrast to what just happened. he mutters your name softly, but you're still too blissed out to do anything but hum, your eyes still closed as you pant softly.

he says your name again, his thumb stroking your cheek softly, trying to get you to open your eyes, "c'mon, sweetheart, look at me. let me see those pretty eyes."

reluctantly, you do as he says, your eyes fluttering open with great effort to look up at him through your lashes. a smile breaks out onto his face, his thumb still stroking your cheek affectionately.

"there's my girl," dean whispers, leaning down to softly press his lips to yours just for a moment, to ground you, bring you back to him. his brows furrow in concern when he pulls back, his thumb wiping away the stray tears that had leaked from your eyes. "you okay? i didn't hurt you, did i?"

your pounding heart swells with affection at his concern, and you manage the strength to smile up at him, shaking your head and leaning into his touch.

"no, it was perfect," you whisper, your voice slightly hoarse from your earlier vocalization. "i needed that."

he smiles at your answer, shifting his hand to brush some of your sweaty hair from your forehead, pressing a kiss there to your heated skin. "yeah, i needed that too," he agrees, nuzzling his nose against yours with a soft sigh.

you relish in his affection for a few moments, both of you just laying there, sharing soft kisses and taking the other in. eventually though, the stickiness between your thighs becomes uncomfortable, and you start to squirm under him.

"not that i don't love this," you whisper softly, your eyes fluttering open to meet piercing green staring back at you. you gently lift your hand to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb over his cheek before you move your hand to his hair, fingers brushing through the short strands at the nape of his neck. "but we should get cleaned up."

dean hums in agreement, eyes slipping shut for a moment at your ministrations, opening again as he presses open last kiss to your lips before slowly lifting himself up and gently pulling out of you, making you wince.

"i know, m'sorry, sweetheart," he mumbles, gripping your thigh with his hand, tracing comforting circles into your heated skin. once you're seperated, he pushes up onto his knees before leaning down again, wrapping his arms under your back and lifting you into his arms.

you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his neck as carries you, resting against him as he walks to the motel bathroom. you feel an overwhelming sense of both relief and affection as his thumbs gently stroke the skin of your back while he carries you, and you turn your head, pressing a soft kiss over his pulse point, letting your lips linger against his skin.

"love you," you whisper into his skin, hoping that he doesn't just hear your love, but feels it along his spine, under his skin, and in his bones, wishing you could carve it into him until he knew he deserved it.

"i know," is his response, and you smile against him knowing that even when he doesn't say it back, he loves you. you feel it in the way he craves you, the way he protects you and keeps you safe, and you feel it in the reverent way he touches you, as if you are the only altar he will get on his knees for.

that is how you know dean winchester loves you, and you will spend the rest of your life proving to him that he deserves that kind of love too, even if it kills you.

a/n: ok, so here it is! this took me so friggin long to write but its finally done (thank god). just by the way, this was all written at like 3 in the morning on various days, so I am very sorry if this sucks. but anyways, thank you for reading and if you have any feedback, pls let me know!

p.s - I know i'm not like a big writer or anything but if anyone wants me to start a taglist lmk!

[hairmetal666]

The worst thing that ever happened to Eddie Munson is a spinning studio opening in the building next to the neighborhood store he runs with his uncle.

"That's the third one today," Eddie whines as soon as the door snicks shut behind a woman with a glossy high ponytail and electric pink polka dot Lululemon sports bra and bicycle short set.

"You see her ponytail?" Nancy asks. She's flipping through a stack of flashcards. "Never seen a twenty-five year old look fresh off a facelift."

"I hate them so much. What kind of job is 'cycling instructor' anyway?"

"I'm concerned about the amount of makeup they wear to workout. That's gotta be bad for the pores."

"I'm concerned about the collective IQ holding that operation together. Like, do they know how to get out if there's a fire alarm?"

Nancy shoves him, but snickers too. It's not like he really has anything against the instructors. They're fine. Polite and usually harmless. It's the principle of it. It's not fair, that they get to continue into an adulthood that's still all about them being pretty and popular, without any substance.

"You've done college bio," he says. He notices a couple of cereal boxes have fallen over, hops off the counter to push them back in place. "What are the chances their muscles are so big it's cutting off the blood flow to their brains? Is that a thing that can happen?"

There's no response from the front of the store, which isn't unusual. Mostly, she lets him talk and chimes in when the mood strikes. Since she seems uninterested in offering her input, he straightens the cereal and keeps gabbing.

"The other day, one of the guys came in, and his shorts were so tight, I could see his balls. Not just the outline, but the wrinkles. I could almost make out individual pubes. Is that one of those things where they pretend they're limiting drag, or whatever, to improve their speed? Even though it's a stationary bike--"

He turns, the shelves straightened, and literally only three feet from him is one of the aforementioned cycling instructors. Unfortunately, he's the most beautiful man Eddie has ever seen. Even more unfortunately, he definitely heard Eddie making fun of them.

"Uhh," Eddie says.

The guy smiles. "Sorry, my giant muscles make it hard to get around sometimes."

And Eddie just. Like. What the fuck. "That must make it difficult to cycle." God, god but this guy is so fucking, devastatingly hot and all Eddie has done is antagonize him. And not even intentionally!

"I get by," he smiles and Eddie almost swoons. "Hey, when I bend down, can you let me know about the ball sitch? I have a wholesome image to maintain."

Is he flirting? It seems like he's flirting? But that's weird, right? He caught Eddie talking shit, why would he--

"It would be my pleasure to look at your balls," his mouth says before his brain can catch up.

The guy snorts, smile getting bigger. "I don't know, now I might be self-conscious. Might have a wayward pube."

"How will you know if someone doesn't take a look?"

The guy steps closer, cocks his head to the side. He's got this impressive sweep of hair that barely tumbles, his throat dotted with cute little moles and freckles. Eddie's mouth is watering, why is his mouth watering? "I usually get to know someone a little bit better before they get that privilege."

For once, he's speechless and now he's blushing, can feel it up to his ears and down to his nipples.

The guy leans even closer, breath ghosting against Eddie's skin. "Too bad you hate exercise instructors."

This social interaction has already been a disaster, but he makes it even worse by responding with an indignant squeak.

The guy winks, can't hide his genuine amusement at Eddie's expense. "You ever want to make it up to me, you can come to one of my classes."

With that, he walks up to Nancy at the counter, and Eddie gets his first look at the single most glorious ass he's ever seen. His mouth literally drops open as he watches how it jiggles, perfect and round, and he wonders if it would be too much to fall to his knees and worship it right then and there.

Eddie's dumbstruck for a little too long, almost misses as the cycling instructor heads for the door. "How can I take your class if I don't know your name?" He shouts.

The instructor half turns, the sexiest, smuggest smile on his pretty face. "It's Steve!" He yells back.

"I'm Eddie!"

"I know!"

The door closes and he turns to Nancy. "How--how did he know my name?"

Nancy rolls her eyes, goes back to her flashcards. "You're wearing a name tag, you absolute dork."

Eddie knows he's a man of weak will. Is not completely surprised when, after a month of meanly flirtatious interactions, Steve leans across the counter to taunt, "you do one cycling class with me and I'll take you out to dinner."

He's fresh from a workout, hair still damp and messy from the shower. Eddie thinks he's about to lose his mind, desire a clawing beast gnawing on his bones.

"Oh, so I might finally get the opportunity to check out your balls?"

Steve's cheeks go very pink, and something tight and hot tugs in Eddie's abdomen. "If you play your cards right."

[floralscented]

WEDDING BELLS & 5-STAR HOTELS ─ dean winchester!

. . . or, the first time in a long time dean's stayed in a hotel room without mysterious stains in the carpet or on the sheets.

no warnings <3 just fluff! and newlywed cutesie shit!

dean was so fucking glad you talked him out of a vegas wedding.

the thought of being married by a guy masquerading as elvis presley still sounded funny as shit to him, but he did agree with the sentiment that you deserved this. the grand wedding arch, strung with flowers, the huge cake, every eye of every single one of your loved ones there for you.

you deserved to be spoiled. dean didn't need to be told it to know it, but it was hard for him, sometimes, to remind himself that he could slow down. appreciate things. you'd helped him a lot in that regard, but it was hard to untrain a soldier into being a man again.

"this bed is nice!" you call to him from the bedroom part of your suite, and he actually laughs a little at the sound of it, hearing the little bounce of the mattress springs punctuating your words.

he undoes the tie from around his neck, draping it across the back of the couch, before he circles around it to find you, exactly how he thought you'd be: jumping on the bed like a damn kid.

you looked downright beautiful, even now. especially now. hair released from it's earlier style, flowing dress replaced with a shorter, more manageable one for the after party, your heels strung across the room. you'd even put the veil back on, the end of it catching in the wind as you jumped.

dean leans in the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, mouth tilted up in amusement. "are we having fun?"

"i'm having fun," you correct, the jumps stilling, your stance a little wobbly trying to balance on the springs, "you're watching me."

dean opens his mouth to say he's always watching you, but he didn't want to come off like a weirdo or anything. you knew you were marrying a weirdo, but, like, there were limits to how much weird a person could take in their partner.

your limit, apparently, was a supernatural hunter with dead parents and a talent at killing things. maybe, actually... you wouldn't have minded to hear about how often he just watched you.

watched you jump on every hotel or motel bed you'd both gotten. watched how your eyelashes fluttered in your sleep. watched as your eyebrows pinched together when you were cleaning the blood off of his face, or, for some godforsaken reason, doing his eyebrows. he was a much gentler, more lenient man since falling in love with the likes of you.

"stop staring at me like that," you laugh, having the audacity to sound sheepish, as if you weren't literally the prettiest person on the damn planet.

dean pushes off of the doorframe to cross the distance between the both of you. once he was close enough, your hands came up to rest on his cheeks, smushing them between your soft palms.

"like what?" he manages to mumble through it.

you lean down to kiss the tip of his nose. dean absolutely does not blush at that, either, shut up. "like you love me or something crazy like that."

"oh, can't love my wife now?" hard to speak through your light hold. easy to argue about loving you.

your hands fall to his, bending at the knee to try and haul his ass up onto the bed, too. "love me from up here." you somehow have even less balance, now, as you step backwards to make room for him on the king-sized bed, and his hand falls to your waist to steady you. "well, isn't this just the rom-com scene of the century."

dean snorts, taking your other hand into his to mimic the stance of your first dance, earlier that evening. "only you would have me dancin' on top of a bed." he pauses, shrugging lightly. "only you would have me dancin' at all."

your smile is wide and knowing. of course it is. he's not kept it a very good secret that you've got him going molten and soft, just for you.

there's no music. no sound at all beyond the hum of the air conditioner and the occasional traffic outside. even the sounds of the other hotel room doors opening and closing seems quieter here, in this moment with you. so he dances with you, keeps you upright on your feet, and doesn't seem to mind at all that this night doesn't seem to have an end in sight.

"told you the bed was nice," you say idly, just as he lowers you into a dip.

dean holds you there for a little bit of time, taking those few seconds to rake his eyes over the pristine white bedspread, and the mountain of pillows. pillows would be on the floor come morning time. sheets and blankets would be wrinkled to all hell. "not a single stain in sight," he agrees, lifting you back up to clutch you to his chest in an embrace, "wanna change that?"

"dean!" you try to scold but laugh instead, your palm flattening on his chest, curling into the white button-up's fabric. "shut up."

"what? it's a rite of passage for hotel sheets."

there's not a denial to follow, so dean breaks into a toothy, shit-eating grin.

"i think it's a great first thing to do, too, with these new wife and husband titles," he hums, mostly to himself, since you aren't arguing with him anymore.

you lift the veil off of your head and settle it on top of his, and dean really is a goddamn sucker now, because he even leans down to make it easier for you to reach. "okay," you sigh, as if you're resigning yourself to the inevitable, your mouth brushing his in a chaste kiss, "on one condition."

dean chases your mouth for a couple of more kisses, while he's got you so close. "and what's that, angel?"

you tug on the end of the veil on his head, now wearing a shit-eating grin of your own. "veil stays on during sex."

maybe he'd married a little weirdo, too.

notes. literally saw this gif on pinterest and immediately had to write something wedding related for my pookie wookie. <3

tags. @figthoughts @jasvtsc @titsout4jackles @deansbite @whisperingwillowxox @bombarda-babe @whyyouegg @bluemerakis @loverslantern @bitchykittenconnoisseur @jensenacklesantidote @keira-kaz2y5 @sthefferrete @depressionbarbie2023 @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @bleuatlas @minettacreekk @moonstruksandco @moodyquesadilla @severe-mental-illness @gibson-g1rl @deansbeer @bluestrd @mccartneyqp @im-bili @chevroletdean @angelblqde @lyarr24 @psyches-reid @momoewn @globetrotter28 @starzify @florchids @ryngzmn @aileenunfiltered @beausling @frosttbitessam @amberlthomas

[risuola]

III — GAMBARE, GAMBARE // In the world of crime and blood, Sukuna knows what's off limits. You certainly are one of those things and yet, he's unable to stop thinking of you.

contents: smut, little angst-ish in some places, mafia!au, unprotected sex, a hint of body worshipping, violence, mentions of death, subtle threats, reader discretion is advised — 3,2k words

a/n: third part, thank you so much for support guys! it means the world to me to see how INSANELY big is the tag list now. i literally love y'all~ ❤️ also, just as the first part got inspired by the absolutely menacing quote from our king, it only felt natural to include the famous gambare, gambare (do your best) into this one.

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

Sukuna prefers to think of himself as one of significant intelligence. Over the years, during which he ruled over the entire criminal milieu, he proved himself to stand atop of anyone who dared to even think of overturning his jurisdiction. All the exceptionally dumb bold ones that once wished to take the position of a boss from his hands had learned the hard way why troubles with Sukuna Ryomen are the least desirable fate of anyone who bears any volume of oil inside their brains.

It’s not only tactical or business intelligence that he’s priding himself with. It’s also the excessive knowledge about general rules of life that allowed him to comfortably push and pull the edges of what’s right and wrong, bending his own reality to his liking. Now it’s intuitive – he just knows where he can put more pressure and where it’s not worth his time. He knows what to bet his money on and what won’t realistically pay back. And most importantly, up until that point, Sukuna thought he can tell with his eyes closed which people he should consider crossing paths with, what men can be useful whilst he aims to reach his targets and which crowds he shouldn’t mess around with – for various reasons, most of which being just business and inconvenience. Same thing concerns women. Ryomen’s position works like a magnet and not a day passes by without girls, often way too young to even think of him, throwing themselves at him, led by fantasies of money and power veiled in the shades of love. If he wished, he could have a different toy every time the night falls and if he’d be just slightly less trained, he might have fallen for the temptation. But he didn’t.

Sukuna learned it from experience, not exactly his own, but of his pawns, that allowing random women in the proximity of their profession usually leads to catastrophes. Girls get persistent, they grow attached, they fall in love sooner than it’s even logical and then they threat, they blackmail; all of which eventually leads to their deaths because dealing with just barely adults that weaponize tears and screams is something he doesn’t allow in his circle. There were no exceptions, any man bearing similar power to Ryomen knows that there’s no place for romance in the world of death and bones, the one that’s stained in red and sorrow. If there happens to be love, it’s always of people from inside the criminal circle, sharing the same set of broken morals. Mafia should never tie itself romantically with civilians. Especially him, the leader, the menace that he is in the world of misdeed, murder and corruption, knew all too well why he should never, ever, even think of someone from outside of his tale as of anything more than one time plaything. That would be irresponsible, straight up naïve. It would be foolish. He knew all of that and not even once he felt any need to engage into any kind of relationship with someone that he deemed non-profitable to his general targets.

Then why the fuck he kept thinking of you? Why he kept seeing you after what was supposed to be a fun one-time fuck? Why did the taste of your lips and the sweet scent of your skin made him so completely addicted that he couldn’t focus on his own business without his mind wandering to the memory of you at least once an hour? He just liked your body, he told himself every time he thought of sending you a message. You were a good lay, it was purely physical. You did, after all, take his dick like you were born solely for this very purpose. He was meeting you only for sex and it was an accident that some of these meetings began with a dinner. All of the gifts he showered you with were just a form of payment for the service. Sukuna knew much better than to let his emotions take control of him.

“What’s on your mind?” Your quiet voice tore Ryomen out of the realm of his self-criticism. The tone that you spoked with was raspy, the testimony of the rough, throat-fucking he had used you for just few hours prior, and yet, it still somehow flowed with cottony softness, so characteristic to you.

“Nothing important,” he replied bluntly, lowering his gaze to where your face was buried into the broad muscle of his chest; your frame completely hidden in his own, much larger and stronger. It was another night you spent in his house, one of those that began with the reservation in one of Tokyo’s best restaurants that served traditional Japanese cuisine. You showed up in a dress made of dark olive silk, long enough to reach your high-heeled sandals and clinging to your shapes as if it was made to be worn over the divinity that was your body. The long, scandalous slit exposed one of your legs and the thin straps accentuated your shoulders and cleavage just perfectly. It was a dress that he himself bought and ordered to be delivered to you in an expensive box before that day. Now that very same gown was laying somewhere, discarded on the floor in the living room of his mansion.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re plotting my death,” you chuckled against his skin, the vibration of the act made him scoff because both him and you knew that the scenario you offered wasn’t exactly falling into the realm of fiction.

“If I were to kill you, I wouldn’t need to plot it. One bullet is all it would take,” he retorted with calm and despite any logic, instead of creating some distance, instead of running away you hummed at his statement and pressed your lips to the center of his chest.

You were way over fearing Sukuna and his world. The few months that you spend seeing him, you came to terms with the heavy weight of tragic fate that was now resting on your shoulders. It couldn’t end well, you shouldn’t tangle yourself with a man such as him, the path of your normal life should never come even close to the blood tainted one he was walking through. You should have never left the club with him and once you did, you should have run out his house the moment he gave you a chance. Instead of that, you stayed. That night, after the time of Ryomen’s pursue and the unfortunate event with Naoya and his gang, soon turned into two. Then just few more and then many more. The one-night stand evolved into continuous romance and though it was strewn with roses and intimacy, it came also with the realization that the more you see him, the less days you have left. There was no way for someone like you, an outsider, the mere civilian with no mafia bonds whatsoever, to be living a long life. Sukuna has enemies, there are people that want the power he holds and will eventually target you. That is, of course, if he doesn’t kill you himself over time – out of boredom or prevention. You knew a lot, he had told you more than he should.

But you loved him. You had seen him do some pretty dark things that would make most people’s eyes water, and in all honesty, it did the same thing to yours, but then, with you, Sukuna was always protective. You loved the way he always seemed to know just what you needed, the way he read you like an open book and knew just what to say or do to put you at ease. You loved the way he made you feel like the only woman in the world, how he made you feel beautiful, even on the days you felt like a total mess. He was a danger, a threat so deadly you shouldn’t play with it, he was a flame that you were bound to burn yourself on, but he was also the only person in the world you felt so safe around. Ever since you met, he had protected you. Even if his words were harsh and his own deeds rough, he never failed to envelop you in a bubble inside of which nothing and no one could hurt you.

“Oh, how much you’d miss me,” a certain sense of amusement hinted in the tone you used as the sheepish smile stretched your lips. Ryomen acted suddenly, grabbing the tiny thing that was your body and pressing your back to the mattress. His fingers wrapped around the frail of your neck; it wouldn’t take much of his strength to snap it and yet, you seemed rather comfortable with his grip secured around your airways. Over the time you managed to grow enough trust to know he won’t hurt you for no reason. Your lover was a man powerful enough, there was no need for seeding fear in you. You were also smart enough to differentiate the real danger from the playful acts. If Sukuna truly wanted you to be scared, you most definitely would be scared shitless.

“You think so?” His tone dropped an octave as he crawled above you; your bare figure now trapped underneath the weight of his presence. He got your legs between his initially, the heavy shaft of his dick rested over your lower belly as he shifted his hand from your throat down to cup your breasts. Your body seemed to never stop attract him, no matter how many times he touched and tasted it. You looked almost angelic in the dim light of that morning; the remnants of sleep still painted over your features and the only things that disturbed the innocence of your picture were the marks he had left on your plush, velvety skin. Red and angry spots that he sucked onto your flesh adorned the beauty of your frame, ultimately making you his own. “Aren’t you a little too confident?”

“I think I’m confident just enough,” you grinned playfully, smoothing over his hands, one staying on top of his palm on your breast and the other reaching up his arm to touch more of him. There was always a hunger lingering inside of you, you were never completely satiated and even if your body was utterly exhausted, you were always happy to take more. Sukuna made you feel ecstatic, like you were really his only one and though it was an illusion that you chose to believe in, it felt good to imagine yourself as his only care.

“And why would I miss you, huh? Aren’t you only a plaything for me?” The question he asked was meant to sound venomous but the sound of his voice betrayed the lighthearted intention. “Do you think I’ll blink twice when discarding you when I get bored of what you can give me?”

“I don’t think you’ll hesitate,” a chuckle once again shook your chest gently as you watched how Sukuna gently pulled your legs up from underneath him and brought one of your ankles to his face. The kisses he smeared along your shin were delicate, completely contrasting with the threatful impression that he was trying to make. He was worshipping you so openly, it made you blush every time. “But even though I know you wouldn’t think twice before killing me, I also think you’d miss me afterwards.”

Once the tender caresses finished, your calves landed on top of his shoulders as he leaned forward, squeezing a breathy moan out of you as he pushed his length into you to the very base of it, sliding on enough spit that it made the entrance easy. Ryomen learned your body through and through, he knew you can take it, he knew you’re always ready and eager to take him. Even if it’s early, even if it hurts. No matter when and where, if he told you to sit on his dick in the middle of a grocery store, you’d probably do just that and ask no questions. And yet, he knew where the boundaries are. Not once he pushed you when you were feeling bad. Not once he used you when you were not ready. The knowledge he now had about you came from observation.

“I think I would miss you,” he purred, his lips so close that they brushed against yours as he spoke. He’s got you in a mating press, filled to the brim with his bricked-up manhood and completely at his mercy. “You are addicting.”

“So keep me safe,” you whispered, cupping his face and chasing the kiss he was yet to give you. The request caught him slightly off guard. The pleading undertone made his heart clench; a feeling that he’s gone without for a decade at least and though he hated the odd sensation in his chest, he also couldn’t deny the warmth that spread throughout his body.

“You are safe with me,” the reassuring lie he followed with a heavy press onto your lips, sealing his words with his own tongue and silently promising you his protection. A vow that he wished to keep and yet, feared he won’t be able to. But now, it wasn’t important. Now you were here, in his bed, on his dick. Now there was just you and him.

Your dainty fingers found their place in his hair as he began thrusting into you. The new slick that combined with the remnants of the night made his movements easy as he dragged his hips back almost all the way out and then pushed back to the point of his pelvis clashing with the back of your thighs and your ass. The pace he set wasn’t fast. It wasn’t anything of what he’d most often pick, there was no violence intertwined into the melody of his hips. That morning it was sensual, it was deep and just rapid enough to stimulate every sweet spot inside of you. Stroke after stroke he was driving you crazy, he just barely started and already you felt yourself dripping. The filthy, wet sounds filled in the early aura and the muffled moans and whimpers accompanied them.

Sukuna allowed your legs to fall lower from where they were pressed against your chest and you hooked them around his hips. The newly earned access to his neck and shoulders you immediately used by allowing your hands to wander in the area, scratching his skin just to force a low purr from his throat. Every sound he made, you swallowed greedily as the kiss continued. Your tongues were dancing to the fiery rhythm of intimacy.

The coil in your stomach tightened all too quickly, you wished it to give you more time to enjoy what he was willing to give you but no matter how much you wanted your body to calm down, he made it absolutely impossible to achieve. Your veins were running with pure ecstasy and lust, the heated flurry that now was your brain was focused only on him, on the rhythm of his hips, on every sweet little lie that he whispered to you. Ryomen knew how to make you weak, he knew just how to angle his body to hit that one spot, the most sensitive one and you could feel him grinning against your lips. He knew you were close. The delicious squeezes that your cunt did on his girth were enough of a hint to notice and it gave him a sense of pride to be able to make you come undone so easily.

“Just few moments more,” he murmured and you nodded eagerly. Tears prickled in your eyes, gathering along your lash lines like crystals that he wished to kiss away, but was now too engulfed in the taste of your lips to part. His movements got quicker, just a little heavier as he began slamming into you with more force than at the beginning. Mornings tend to rid Sukuna from the ability to last – the ones that he spends with you in his arms, with your naked body pressed against his, unknowingly shifting against his dick for hours. That makes him unable to keep his composure for too long. Sometimes he feels like you strip him of all qualities that he once prided himself in, leaving him bare only to your eyes, with only the most primal needs exposed and he felt good with that kind of freedom.

“…don’t stop, oh god, ‘kuna~”, you were whimpering, arching your back underneath him and squeezing your little hands over his shoulders. “I can’t, I—”

“Oh, you can. Do your best,” Sukuna chuckled, teasing you with such impossible tasks. Your head fell back, your thighs were trembling against his sides and he could tell he’s losing you. You were far too deep in the realm of desire to hear his words; all of your world now came down to what you felt, to how you felt him and Sukuna loved your blissed out state. He loved the way he was the one to push you so far over the edge that you wouldn’t notice if the world was ending. But what he loved above that, was how you were gripping onto him; holding him tightly, pulling him closer as if you never wanted him to move away, as if he was everything you needed. And he was.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered against your throat, painting the skin over there with wet trails of kisses and new, red marks – the ones gentle enough to fade in a matter of hours. You moaned something incoherent. “Cum for me,” he allowed, not even sure if you’re registering his words. It had to be unconscious; the way your brain caught his voice between the blurry lines of everything else.

Your climax hit you like a rock; his name was slipping over your tongue continuously, so sweet and breathless that Sukuna was once again reassured that he never wants to hear anyone else calling him. Your walls were squeezing his throbbing length, he twitched and flexed inside you, groaning with satisfaction and before he allowed himself to come, he pushed himself up. As he sat on his heels, he pulled you with him; your body now on top of him and he used his hands to guide your hips up and down his dick. You wrapped yourself around him, finding a safe space for your face right where his neck connects with his muscular shoulder and all he needed to feel the bliss was the sensation of your teeth sinking into his skin.

White seed painted your insides as he shot it as deeply as he could reach with you on top of him. Few more moves, few more groans and you could feel him relax. His strong arms snaked around your waist as he shifted slightly to lean against the headboard, straightening his legs in front of him. You stayed pressed against his chest, catching your breath and feeling the tension leaving your body as the morning went by. And as Sukuna held you so close to his heart, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that it felt so right and that made the question bloom inside his brain. Was it still strictly physical? Was it ever only about sex?

taglist: @yihona-san06 @tiredscavengerskeleton @son4aras @vixorell @cecesharktales @isleqt @thickmacandcheese @captainchrisstan @bbylime @sad-darksoul @shartnart1 @kiki17483 @grimreaqueer @phoenix-eclipses @fan-of-encouragement @valleydoll @aleeeeeeees-stuff @marifujioka @going-to-californiaxx @just-pure-trash @edenofeve @impulsivethoughtsat2am @thigh-o-saur @heyohalie @matchat3a @bubblearts @littlemisspropaganda @aconstructofamind @lawislife18 @rzcnlb @sunukissed

[muzansfangs]

You tell them you got a brazilian wax by a guy.

Starring: Aizen Sosuke x f!reader; Urahara Kisuke x f!reader; Shunsui Kyoraku x f!reader; Byakuya Kuchiki x f!reader;

Format: short imagines;

Warnings: nsfw, fluff, human/modern au, mention to female nudity, jealousy, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, language, creampie, oral sex (Aizen!receiving), vaginal sex, spanking, choking, spying on a partner, mention to murderous intents, wax play.

Plot: A trend on Tik Tok made you plot a devious plan to make your beloved boyfriend going mad. He knew you had an appointment for a brazilian wax. He obviously assumed you were going to be assisted by a woman. How will he react, when you tell him it was a man? Will his jealousy go too far? Will your prank get you in a bad situation?

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Sosuke Aizen.

You knew better than messing with him. Your boyfriend and his god complex, along with his mania for having everything under his control could truly be lethal. Quite literally. Yet, you were bored that Friday night. Sosuke was not around and you ended up slumping onto your couch, phone in hand, scrolling through Tik Tok in search for a way to entertain yourself.

You did not really do much, beside chuckling every now and then. Well, that was until you came across a specific trend regarding a thing you were not unfamiliar with. As you watched the way a poor boyfriend freaked out at the thought of his girlfriend getting a brazilian wax from a guy, you could not restrain yourself from testing the waters. Aizen Sosuke, the cold-blooded mastermind you shared a roof with, was going to experience a man’s personal living hell.

It was a monday evening, when he came back from work just to find you laying on your stomach on your shared bed, in a set of black lingerie he had bought for you a few months ago, chuckling to yourself. He furrowed his brows, settling his briefcase onto the armchair beside the window, as he slowly removed his jacket.

His predatory eyes roamed over your curves. He knew you had gone to your monthly wax appointment. He could see your smooth legs and the way your lingerie already showed shaved portions of your nether regions supposed to be covered. If you had opted for such a provocative attire, it could only mean that you wanted to show off your body to him.

“Hello, darling” he greeted you, his trademark grin crossing his lips as he tugged at his black tie to loosen it.

It was hard to keep your play on, as you watched him slowly get ready to devour you. He always took his time, confident that his cold and charming demeanor worked magic on you even before his hands started to trace the curves of your body. It was true, unfortunately. But you had to resist. It was your time to torture him, after all.

“Hey” you whispered, lifting yourself up on your knees as he approached the bed.

He swept his tongue over his bottom lip, his hand cupping your cheek as he stood at the edge of the bed, leaning down to let his mouth collide with yours in a demanding kiss. You could not deny yourself such a treat and you returned it with equal passion, earning a guttural grunt from him.

He did not say much, he sat down next to you and it was a silent signal for you to climb over his lap and straddle him as you always did. He had somehow trained you to have some reactions and do specific things in response to his gestures. Sosuke Aizen surely had his own way to make you bend the knee effortlessly at his silent requests.

As you straddled him, his hand reached up to grasp his glasses and he hastily took them off, discarding them somewhere beside him on the bed without bothering to fold them. It was so atypical of him. He seemed eager to have you that night and you could not help yourself but tease him about it. After all, pouring gasoline on a wild fire was the right thing to do to get him even more eager.

“Damn, are you that eager to see me naked?” you taunted him, as he darted his brown chocolate hues on your again. There it was, his lustful glare that made your knees buckle.

“Actually, I’m eager to fuck you” he deadpanned, his hand landing on your neck and squeezing it enough to keep you in place, as his other hand tugged your thong to the side and he glided the pads of his fingers down your slit.

You gasped, arching your back as he smirked down at you “You’re already dripping… If it’s so easy to get you wet, I wonder how you don’t make a mess on your beautician’s couch while texting me” he joked, drawing figures eight on your bundle of nerves.

There you were, ready to drop the bomb.

As he delved his fingers into your aching core, a strained moan falling from your lips, you glanced at him with an innocent smile on your face, as you made the ground shake under his feet “Oh, I guess I have been lucky today. Can you imagine Robert’s face, if I stained the couch?”.

Congrats, Aizen.exe stopped working.

He froze solid, his fingers were still buried deep into you, but he was not thrusting them in his usual smooth movements that made you squirm. His eyes were locked with yours, a small frown on his face. You genuinely thought you had just given him an heart attack.

“Robert” he repeated flatly, clearly unamused.

It was in moments like this, when he was serious, seraphic, that you feared him the most. Aizen could be dangerous, truly dangerous. The hint of wrath sparkling into his eyes gave you chills and you uncomfortably darted your eyes away from him. The carpet underneath his shoes suddenly seemed particularly interesting.

“Yeah, Robert. The new guy who works for my beautician. You know, he helps her” you stated, you mouth feeling like chalk all of a sudden.

The dry laughter leaving Sosuke’s lips made you shiver and it took you a few seconds to realize you had royally screwed up, because he was so nimble to wrap his hand around your throat again, and pin you to the bed underneath him, that you had not realized your position had switched so suddenly.

“I don’t doubt it. He must have enjoyed the view of your legs spread wide in front of his stupid face. — he chimed, a devious smile curling his lips as he paused to clench his teeth — A stupid face I’ll gladly fuck up tonight. Would you love to see it, love? I could take his heart to you, offering his pulsing, wretched organ to you. I’ll gauge his eyes out of his skull. I’ll squeeze the life out of him—” he hissed, each time the threat becoming similar to the ones the slashers whispered through the phones to their victims in the stupid movies he loved to watch with you, only to feel you curl up next to him on your sofa.

They were hilarious, according to him.

“Aizen, I was fucking joking! Stop! It was a trend I ran into on Tik Tok!” you quipped, eyes rounded as you cut him off.

Your boyfriend arched his dark eyebrows up, tilting his head to the side and slowly releasing his grip on your neck. He looked almost disappointed. Not towards you. Maybe, he truly wished to kill someone. Because he would kill whoever dared to even glance at you.

His jealousy was skyrocketing.

“I see. — he stated then, before hopping back on his feet and slowly unbuckling his black leather belt — Since you love to use this pretty mouth of yours for talking bullshit, open it to make amend. I’ll obviously come into your mouth, darling. I expect you to swallow” he hissed, gripping your hair and dropping his pants down to his ankles.

Maybe, just maybe, he took a day off from work every month to accompany you to the beauty point. Perhaps, he stalked you down, when you went on your own, because the idea of a random Robert staring and touching your pubes truly made him want to commit a mass murder.

Shunsui Kyoraku.

Shunsui was the perfect victim for this trend. As soon as you ran into that video, you could picture the look of horror on his face as you told him another man had touched you in such an intimate spot. You were simply his. No man could enjoy the sight of you with your legs opened wide to show off your intimacy, no man but him. Eveything was settled and your plan took place two days after you had visited your beautician.

Shunsui had just returned home after a business trip and you had decided to welcome him not only by cooking his favorite dish and buying some extra saké, but by being his personal dessert.

As he ran his hands down your smooth thighs and practically folded you in half, your legs pressed against your chest, you knew that teasing him in the aftermath of such a passionate encounter was going to do numbers on him. His little usual nap was going to wait, after all, because his mind was just about to get pested with horrendous scenarios of a non-existing man exploring his little nest.

“There it is… Look at you, baby, you got such a perfect little hole to fill with my cum” Shunsui panted, his fingers gently spreading your labia as he watched in pride and awe his seed oozing out from you.

You were absolutely drained, your thighs still trembling and your breath irregular as you tried to get a grip of yourself and calm down. Yet, how could you, when the man who had just fucked you to oblivion was Shunsui Kyoraku? He had such a fine way to unravel you that you almost felt guilty for what you were about to say.

Lazily pushing yourself up on your elbows, you hummed and watched Shunsui slump down next to you “Oh, I know. You are definitely not the first man who has ever told me that” you casually commented, sitting up properly and running your fingers through your hair in a futile attempt to fix them.

Shunsui knew about your ex. Even though he was jealous about anyone that was not him, he still did not think of your ex as a ghost from the past threatening your relationship and he actually had no issues in listening to you talking about him. After all, you were his. That man had lost you forever.

“Well, your ex then had his way with words too” your boyfriend stated, a playful smile crossing his lips.

“My ex? Nah, I’m talking about Murata” you replied, laying back down and rolling on your side to face him.

Shunsui Kyoraku, your loving man, was now definitely interested in what you were saying.

Arching his eyebrows up and resting his head on the palm of his hand, he curiously inquired “Who’s Murata? Your gynecologist?”.

You chuckled and shook your head “My what? No, babe, I’m talking about my new beautician’s co-worker. Murata is such an amazing guy, you know? His fingers are so delicate and he applies the wax in a tender way” you lied, sounding as serious as you possibly could.

You swore you had seen his eye twitch, as he grasped your hip drew you closer to him. Your eyes widened as Shunsui’s hand slided down the small of your back and cupped your rear, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Where did this Murata boy put his fingers?” he huskily asked you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as you swallowed thickly. Oh, you knew exactly what was going to happen.

Were you regretting that little stunt you had pulled? Oh, you were for sure.

At your lack of answers, Shunsui sighed and rolled you onto your stomach. His hands gripped your hips and he raised your waist up, until it was at the perfect level with his pelvis. But no, he was not going to claim his domain on your inner walls again. A little punishment was in store fore you.

“Poor little baby, she tries to prank me but cannot even play the part until the very end. Good, that’s good, though” he chuckled, before you parted your lips to let a soft whimper leave them and turn your stomach upside down.

“Shunsui! Babe, I’m sorry! It was a prank! I promise” you piped out, blushing as you hid your face down onto the pillow.

“I’m not having it”.

Spanks it was. But he surely made it up to you later on.

Urahara Kisuke.

Your pervert boyfriend and this trend were a perfect combination for a disaster. It was like throwing powder into a fire. But it sounded like a good idea for you, therefore you persuaded yourself nothing would have gone wrong. Kisuke was not a jealous man. Of course he was protective and a bit territorial, but he never actually made a scene or freaked out, when a man tried to hit on you. He believed you could handle the situation perfectly on your own and, on top of that, if he had to step up and chase the stranger away, he surely avoided violent conflicts.

You two were laying onto your shared bed, Kisuke on top of you, as his mouth was latched onto your throat and his hand was currently between your thighs.

Whimpers and heavy breaths filled the air, while his fingers deftly plunged into you, making your lips part to chant a lewd melody he loved. He knew so many ways of making your knees buck and drag orgasms out of you that it was not a surprise that simply fingering you could make you scream out his name.

“Do you even realize how wet you are? You’ve soaked my whole hand and wrist, you dirty kitten” he cooed in your ear, slowing down the pace he had set a tad bit to enjoy the way your walls clenched onto his slender fingers so tightly.

As he did that, decided to slip his fingers out of you, only to glide them down your folds and enjoying how soft, smooth and slippery they were after the wax appointment you had gone to yesterday.

“So soft, you are so soft, you know?” he teased you, grinning as he took his hat off with his free hand.

Now or never. It was time to drop your bomb.

“Yeah, I know. — you breathed out, glancing up at him and resting the back of your hand over your forehead before letting out a dramatic sigh —I expected you to use some original terms to describe my pussy, though. I mean, Jason used those exact words yesterday. Tsk, I expected you to do better than him” you gingerly said, averting your eyes from him.

Urahara Kisuke went silent. The pads of his fingers glued to your folds, he tried to process what you had just said. A man? Did you mention a man? Additionally, not even a native one, judging by his name, therefore he surely did not know him.

“I’m sorry, who in the holy Soul Society is Jason?” he quizzically asked, tilting his head to the side as he stared at you in utter shock.

“Who?”.

“Jason. Who is this J-A-S-O-N man?” he replied, his eyes dangerously darting onto the lit candle on the night stand.

If his kitten was up for playing with fire, he was going to let you play with it.

“Oh, Jason, right… Well, he waxed me yesterday. He praised my flesh in such a basic way it was hard not to laugh at his face” you replied, pushing yourself up onto your elbows as Kisuke simply hummed and reached for the candle.

At first you got confused, eyebrows knitted together while your eyes followed his moves and the way he began to look at your thighs while licking his lips. It was only then that you remembered how he had wished to try some wax play with you. Eyes widening in shock, you gawked and sat up.

“Kisuke! Baby, wait, wait! I was kidding! It was a trend I ran into on Tik Tok! I promise, I’ll cut the crap!” you fretted, cupping his cheek in your hand and peppering his face in kisses. You were evidently begging for mercy.

The shop-keeper, however, shrugged and delicately pushed you back down as he smiled at you “Oh, I see! But you now owe me some sex therapy, kitten. Now, let me try some wax play and I’ll eat you up. I’ll make you scream so loud Aizen will hear from Muken!” he taunted you, winning you over with his last joke.

“You are a dork…” you chuckled, slapping his shoulder.

Byakuya Kuchiki.

If someone wanted to get a reaction out of this stolid man it was by messing with you. How did they even think about touching his delicate flower, the woman who had successfully made him smile again after so long? A mad Byakuya was not a problem people wished to deal with and, naturally, you did not want to make blood run down the streets. But it was so tempting, so fun. You could not restrain yourself, right? Your boyfriend needed to experience that little trauma too.

It was a lovely summer night, your boyfriend was still locked up in his office and you decided to pay him a visit. Along with buying some take-away in his favorite restaurant, you were going to deliver him a rather spicy dessert. No one was around anymore. The only sound eachoing down the corridor was the sound of your heels clicking onto the marble floor.

When Byakuya saw you walking past the threshold of his office, he faintly smiled. You were surley a sight to behold, especially in that flowery dress he adored. Running up to him, you threw your arms around your neck and pecked his lips gently.

“I was missing you” you said softly, as he made you sit comfortable onto his lap.

Byakuya hummed and kissed your nape, his arms hugging your waist as he redirected his gaze back on the laptop on his desk. He worked way too much, but how could he not? The Family Company constantly required his attention and assistance. But now you were there, ready to catch his attention with some salty prank.

“How was your day, love?” he asked you softly, typing something on the keyboard.

“Quite good. — you stated, smiling softly — And I got some news. My beautician had called in sick today, I was assisted by her colleague” you absent-mindedly said, not getting much of a reaction out of him. You had been vague, indeed. He had no reason to suspect anything, after all.

“Really? And was his colleague good?” he asked.

“Oh, yes! Really good. I got to say I was put in a rather unusual position, but overall he was professional” you chimed, closing your eyes as you mentally prepared for hellfire to break out.

And it did.

Byakuya cleared his throat, his grip on your waist tightening even so slightly as he nosed your cheek gently “He?”.

“Yep. I’m talking about Santiago” you casually said, smiling softly.

“Santiago. Mh, I see. — he replied, prompting you stand up, much to your dismay and confusion, but as he grasped the back of your neck and pushed you down onto the empty side of the deak, you squirmed — And was the position he asked you to strike that uncomfortable?” he said calmly, unbuckling his belt with one hand, meanwhile he allowed the other one to hike the skirt of your dress up.

“Y-Yes… You could say so” you meekly replied.

The smack on your rear you received afterwards making you squeak out softly, your foreteeth sinking onto your bottom lip.

Byakuya sighed, lowering his mouth to your ear “You know, baby, when you want to prank someone, you should be careful in not messing up the plan. How was I supposed to fall for that, when you have sent me the link of the video?” he purred, as you gaped in shock.

Your jaw went slack, as reality dawned onto you: so that was why Rangiku had not replied to your video and text ���check this out, Byakuya is gonna be so mad’.

You had sent it to Byakuya.

“Baby, I’m so, so sorry! It was a cute idea!” you protested, but he had already slipped your panties down your thighs, a soft groan leaving his lips as his fingers glided down your smooth slit, earning a little squirm from you.

“I know. I have a cute idea too. Spread your legs and let me show what I am talking about” he practically commanded.

Gosh, did that make you wet.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! An old draft and promise to some of you that I have finally finished! Thank you so much for having been so patient, I genuinely appreciate your feedback and enthusiasm at times. This was pretty fun to write and definitely a breath of fresh air from all of my other requests. Let me know what you think about it! Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreacited!

Until then,

X O X O

TAGS: @electronicwitchcollection @aizenwifey @cyberdazetragedy @hearrrtfillia @eeeextttt @luccis-coochie @niya12 @juleenbety @moris666 @virette @sillylittlefellas @elijangwifey @han11dh

[hellsslibrary]

sub...Michael Kaiser...with male reader...please...I'm begging...

Just saw the latest chapter and him saying "please" made me simultaneously combust.

What if he says that word but on a completely different context, iykwim 👀👀👀👀

"In an ideal relationship, pure love and dirty sex complement each other, not exclude each other."

#a.n. : You can't imagine how much fun it was to write this, different sides of the dominant were fighting inside me, it was wild.

MASTERLIST is here.

!!Warnings: top!dom!male!reader, sub!bottom!Michael, brat taming, humiliation, light strangulation, dry orgasm, you dig Kaiser to the point of half death, reader breaks the bed and unironically fights Alexis for a place in the hotel with Michael by playing tic-tac-toe (mention, I thought it was funny), Kaiser is literally folded in half, one bite to his ankle and a slight mention of blood, three phrases in German (my half-German roots take over), riding.

It was obviously not a revelation to Kaiser why this had started. He had started to understand it the moment you almost fought Ness to share a hotel room with him. After all, you, as adults and completely mentally ill people, played tic-tac-toe and you beat Alexis. After all, he could survive a couple of nights not in a room with Michael, but you? Oh no, you had too big of a plan for him.

He had figured it out himself, as soon as he saw that you were actually focused on winning this stupid game and not playing for fun... But I guess he didn't understand what exactly was waiting for him. Although that's the best part.

"G-gott! Y/n, slow d-down! This is, oh shit, this is too mu-much!" came out unintelligibly from his lips, while he grabbed the sheets beneath him with all his might, his graceful fingers almost tearing apart the poor fabric that was holding on with all its might.

"Are you sure?" you clarify, knowing he won’t answer because he doesn’t want to, but he also doesn’t want to seem too needy.

And so he does. He stays silent, burying his face in the pillows and pushing his ass back a little more to somehow meet your ruthless thrusts that didn’t allow him to breathe properly.

You squeeze his hips, pressing lightly on his stomach under your fingers, causing him to whine loudly, even muffled by the cotton pillowcases. His toned ass jiggles slightly with each thrust, making you want to bite one of his cheeks right now, but oh, what a shame the human body can’t bend like that, huh?

Kaiser felt too good as you admired his ass and his bulging back without any other thought. He felt like his whole being was melting, turning into nothing more than obedient plasticine in your hands, which you could bend as you wish.

He bites his lip to hold back another moan. It seems like he can hear his heartbeat in every part of his body, no matter how unimportant or far from his head. It seems like his blood is so hot that he is about to melt... Not that it is not true, considering how sweaty you both have been for the last few dozen minutes.

"Aren't you going to answer me, handsome? Or do you want me to stop and leave you empty and thirsty, hm?" your whisper sends involuntary goosebumps down his body when he realizes that your chest is rubbing against his back and he makes some kind of sound similar to hiccups, turning his head to the side.

"Shut up."

The phrase made your hips freeze almost immediately, your eyebrow involuntarily crawling up at the fact that he had the strength to speak clearly, and also to act like a complete brat, when you were obviously lifting him to Heaven and back with your actions.

"Move, idiot. Why the hell did you stop?"

Your eye twitched and you took a deep breath, looking down at his frowning, flushed face. There were traces of moisture all over his face from tears and sweat mixed together, his lips were slightly swollen from holding back moans, but most importantly, his eyes. The shine in them. He knew what he was doing, or rather, what he was saying.

Before he could come to his senses, your lips spread into an almost animalistic smile and your cock completely slipped out of him. Kaiser was about to complain, but you abruptly flip him over onto his back, and then immediately, without warning, you penetrate inside.

His next moan was probably heard by everyone in the hotel, or at least on your floor. And all the following ones, too. He was no longer holding back, moaning at the top of his lungs. His hands were looking for something to grab onto and wanted to close around your shoulders, but you would not allow him such luxury, so you squeezed his palms above his head.

"What a pity. If you want to act like a little slut, then I will have to treat you like one," you lean right over his face, sliding out so that only your tip remains inside him, and then penetrate in the roughest way you can.

"Ohhh, ple-please... Ple-please, fuck, s-sir, I b-beg yo-you... P-please!"

He himself did not understand what he was begging for, while you just let out a chuckle from this. Michael could barely form any coherent words, he was just mumbling obvious nonsense now.

Your fingers squeezed the blond's leg at his knee, throwing one of his legs over your shoulder, practically folding him in half. He muttered something unintelligible, tears starting to flow from his closed eyes while his hands clenched into fists helplessly in your grip.

"What? You decided to fix yourself in a couple of seconds, handsome? That's not like you. My dick makes you drunk?" he would never admit that it did, but his head shook in agreement too convulsively.

You bite his ankle, digging into the white skin, causing him to cry out in pain, but he doesn't complain. He just stares excitedly at the small trickle of blood rolling down his leg. Your free hand, not holding his hand, falls on his neck.

And God, something clicks inside him. He cums, but nothing comes out, in that same second, although your hand did not have time to settle down and squeeze properly. You only look at the pathetic state of the German while he experiences a dry orgasm and how his cock twitches.

"What a pity... Although you are a smart boy. Even without realizing anything, you do not dare to cum for real without my permission..." Michael only moans in response, not being able to say anything anymore, especially now that you are blocking part of his air.

"Please, Y-y/n," he manages to mumble somehow, looking at you with empty, smoky eyes, hazed with a haze of lust, and you feel how he squeezes around your cock. Probably on purpose, but now you do not care.

"Please what, baby? You have to speak clearly," he frowns, looking away and staring at some tasteless painting on the wall, trying to pull some kind of speech out of his brain.

"Let me cum... Bitte, mein schatz," Kaiser whines, managing to somehow rise up, although it is clearly uncomfortable and even painful for him, given the position he is in, and kissing the corner of your lips, missing the main target. "Bitte lass mich abspritzen, lass mich auf deinen Schwanz abspritzen..."

You feel something break inside you. He looked beautiful and didn't even seem embarrassed as usual by his obvious vulnerability and the state of some kind of toy in your hands. In the end, he even found the strength to kiss you and didn't even wince at the fact that he literally bent in half for a couple of seconds. Well, how can you not spoil such a boy, right?

His head falls back, he sighs raggedly when you begin to pound him with the maximum speed and roughness you can muster right now. The bed beneath you creaks pitifully, as does Kaiser himself, not expecting such pressure.

"Dann komm, Hübscher," your words send him over the edge immediately, squeezing your cock as if in a vice.

He paints your and his stomach white, cumming surprisingly much. And he doesn't react at all when you continue your thrusts with a same force, only small sighs escaping from his lips.

But then he screams and something cracks under you. You manage to catch him and throw his leg aside carefully but quickly, and press him to your chest.

"You... Managed to break the bed? Wow, new even for you," Michael mutters, watching the mattress and sheets sag in the hole in the bed, chuckling hoarsely and weakly hugging your shoulders now that he has this opportunity.

"I'll ask to change the room and pay for the bed... I don't even want to imagine the face of the girl at the reception, but..." You look up at the blond, who is now sitting on your lap and thoughtfully narrow your gaze.

"Ride you? Good," he understands what is needed, feeling that you have not yet finished and managed to twitch inside him even at such a moment. "You can't be trusted with the pace anymore, you're too wild... Next time we're in hotels, I'll ride you."

"Fair and sweet, I'm more than willing," he starts moving his hips, moaning with every movement, still sensitive from his orgasm, trying not to go too fast so you both don't fall off the bed... Until the broken part of the bed falls to the floor, causing a huge noise, but hey, you're facing the ace of German youth football, who cares? Especially one so rarely vulnerable and caring like this.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Sergei Kravinoff x fem!reader

Summary: After being taken by his father, you find comfort in each other in an unconventional way.

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: rough quickie sex, dom!sergei, sub!reader, unprotected sex, penetration, riding, no foreplay, passionate, degradation, praise, reader cries, pain kink kinda? spanking, scratching, bleeding, blood, violence, insecurities, break down.

~ thank you @princesssunderworld for all the wonderful prompts as always!! hope you like this! ~

SERGEI KRAVINOFF MASTERLIST

His dad had crossed a line this time.

Sergei's dealt with so much bullshit from his dad as a kid and a teenager but this—capturing you? Hurting you? The one thing in his life that actually made sense? It was too much. His dad had crossed a line.

He didn't have any hesitation when he found the van, using all his strength to rip the driver in half. 

Literally. 

He could kill his father for this. He thinks he will. It wasn't helping that with every bullet that grazes his skin, he just becomes angrier. He throws one of the men to the side, snarling like an animal as his shoulders rise and fall rapidly.

That's when he sees you, curled up in the corner of the van, a chain bound to your ankle as you stare at him.  

"Малышка (Babygirl)," he grumbles, his voice husky and thick as he halts his movements. He drops the man he'd had in a chokehold. Sergei's body aches as blood drips down his arms and seeps through his shirt from the multiple bullet grazes and wounds. He stalks closer and when he sees you visibly flinch, his heart shatters. 

Luckily for anyone involved, you aren't hurt in significant any way just shaken up. His father hadn't gotten far with his plan, considering Sergei had found you almost immediately after he learned of your disappearance. 

You don't talk for a few hours as you're simply huddled on one of the armchairs in your shared living room, a warm blanket draped across thighs and a glass of Kissel, your favorite Russian drink Sergei makes so well, sits in your lap.

It isn't until your boyfriend finally walks in from the bathroom, shirtless and still dripping blood, that you snap into reality. He's grunting as he wraps a bandage around his arm, sitting down on the second armchair, and spreading his legs automatically. He sinks down and shuts his eyes, unaware of your disappearing into the bathroom for a moment. 

"You never take care of yourself," you whisper, causing him to open his eyes again and meet your gaze. You've come back and now you're examining the bruises on his hands. He yanks them away from you.

"Sit down, Y/n. You're hurt," he says harshly, shifting and then groaning in pain once more. 

You frown. It almost feels like all those walls you'd broken down over the last year had instantly built themselves back up, even stronger this time. Your heart sinks. You have minimal aches, mostly from the chains, and he's sitting here bleeding from bullet wounds and he insists you're the one who is hurt?

"Sergei," you whisper and lean over him, trying to see the new wounds mixed in with the old scars. "Please let me clean you up. You're hurt, not me," you say and bend over to dip some cotton balls in rubbing alcohol you'd found in the bathroom.

He stares at you, his eyes dark as you lean over and clean the blood from his face and his torso. He keeps grunting, thesounds deep from inside him. He isn't hissing in pain. No, he's grunting in anger, making almost animalistic sounds that cause a burning in your stomach.

You don't know how to help him when he's like this so you do the next best thing you can think of — you fall to your knees in front of him, your hands resting on his thighs.

"Stop," he warns as soon as he sees you do this, shaking his head. "Stand up."

You feel desperate as you run your hands up and down his jeans. 

"Малышка (Babygirl)," another warning, but this time he's leaning closer and grabbing your chin in his rough hand, squeezing. "You think dropping to your knees like a whore is going to make all this okay again? Make this normal? You could have died. I could have lost you," his voice wavers and he shuts his eyes, his chest heaves as he drops your chin and leans back.

"Stand up. Now," he orders again.

"I wanna make you feel better. You saved me," you say, reaching for the thick leather belt of his jeans, and that's when Sergei snaps.

His hand tightens in your hair suddenly, pulling you onto his lap as the dress you'd worn from last night, when his dad's men had taken you, still hugs your frame and the straps fall from your shoulders.

Sergei groans and grips your hips.

"You want me to fill you up? Is that what you want?" he accuses, unzipping his jeans in a frenzy now. He's achingly hard and he knows he shouldn't be but in his defense, all his emotions have had to build up somewhere. Your mind is fuzzy from desperate want and you nod, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands become rougher on your skin.

You moan, feeling his hard cock underneath your ass. 

"You fuckin' slut," he grunts, dipping his hand underneath you, pulling aside your panties as he snaps them. He checks you. He wants to make sure you're wet so he won't hurt you. As much as he needs this and he wants to use you until you're a broken mess, it won't be fun for him if you're crying for all the wrong reasons. 

He grins and nips at your neck. "Your pussy is drenched, шлюха (whore)."

You whimper against his shoulder he sinks into you without any prior warning, his hands rough as he squeezes your ass and spanks you a few times. You bounce on him, your dress riding up your thighs as it bunches up at your hips, panties torn on the floor, as your eyes water.

It's overwhelming in the best way. Your pussy clenches around him, gripping his cock as his groans turn into moans.

"Shit, Sergei, please," you gasp as he fucks into you, his rhythm faster and harder than yours. You try and keep up. You cry out as he uses you, tears fall down your cheeks, and the room around you spins. Your eyes flutter. Your head drops onto his shoulders, your breathing becomes harder as he ruts into you.

"Черт, я люблю тебя. Я чертовски сильно люблю тебя, детка. (Fuck, I love you. I love you so damn much, baby)" he groans in your ear, chasing his high as his hands tighten on your skin and he presses harsh kisses on your cheeks to keep you staring up at him with that broken look in your eyes. You're making small whines from being unable to understand him when he speaks Russian and because he's making you feel so good. "Always so obedient, so willing to please me."

"Mhm, please," you groan, needing him. "Please, Sergei," you sob his name, clenching around him. "Can I come now? Need to come," you whimper. 

"No," he growls and you sob harder. He's enjoying your pain, relishing in your whines as you lose yourself in him. His movements become harsher, almost bruising as he takes you just the way he wants. 

"Please," your voice sounds weak and your moans have turned more painful. He hears the crying but he's too lost in his haze to stop now as he shakes his head and his nails dig into your skin.

"No." 

You squeal when he thrusts particularly hard and with a small, shit, he's coming inside you, spilling himself to the brim as his body tightens. You're whining, small lines of blood trickling from your arms where he'd scratched you as you follow his orgasm, experiencing yours as well even without his permission.

Sergei is panting now, his eyes bleary as he removes his hand from your skin, his palms tainted in your blood. His eyes widen as some control returns and he pushes away from you much too violently, causing a his of pain as that emptiness overwhelms you and you look at him with tear stained cheeks.  

"Дорогой (Sweetheart)," he whispers and reaches for you after he tucks himself back into his jeans, stumbling back when he sees the mess he'd made of you. He falls to his knees, all these sensations he's feeling finally overwhelm him and he sobs quickly, his head bent to the floor. 

Your heart clenches at the sight. Your legs feel shaky and you wince from your soreness as you walk over to him. You hate seeing him like this; so broken.

You adjust your dress and wipe your tears as you kneel beside him. "Baby," you whisper, "hey."

He flinches as looks up, his eyes red-rimmed and he shakes his head. "Run. Run away from me, love, please," his hoarse voice sounds shaky as his eyes flicker to your arm and he sees the blood again. He clenches his jaw.

"It's only a scratch," you tell him honestly and wipe the blood away, showing him that he didn't leave any permanent scars. You reach for him and take him into your arms. Surprisingly, he lets you, and his arms wrap around your waist, holding you close as his sobs shake your body. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry they took you," Sergei says, eyes softer than you've ever seen them. "You're so goddamn precious to me and–and goddamnit, I hurt you too— I'm just as bad as them." He holds you closer and sobs into your shoulder. "I'm a monster."

You shake your head and hold your hand in his hair, sinking further onto your heels as his weight overwhelms you. "No, no, you are not a monster. And you didn't hurt me. I'm okay. I promise. Sergei, I I love you," you say honestly.

He pulls away and cups your cheek so gently his touch is almost non-existent. "I love you too, Малышка (Babygirl), more than I've ever loved anyone." His hand smoothes down to the scratch marks he'd made in the heat of the passion and he bends down to kiss them better.

"My good girl," he breathes, relaxing a little, "even when she comes without permission."    

He looks up and holds your chin in his hand. "I mean what I said. You should run away from me, Y/n. Run so far and never look back. I need that for you, but even more, I want you to stay with me," he swallows thickly and after a pause he says, "Please. Don't leave me." 

Your stomach flutters at his words and you nod. "I won't leave you, Sergei. Never."

He growls that familiar animalistic growl and kisses your lips so gently, holding you in his arms as he vows to himself he'll keep you safe. 

Always.

[escapisttt]

make up sex

porter runs. he always runs, but he never comes back. what will happen now that he finally has?

cw: nsfw! smut with plot read the title lol, mentions of a previous argument, some hostile dialogue

authors note: was interesting writing gender neutral smut for the first time but it’s literally not hard so anyone who tells you it is is either selfish, lazy, or uncreative.

word count: 3.6k (also the exact length of my only other redacted fic okay)

steam billowed all around the bathroom, penetrating every surface with moisture and sticking to the large rectangular mirror. treasure began undressing themself with lumbering movements, constantly tipping over left and right. after trying to take their slippers off while standing up, they again became unsteady and caught themself on the sink basin. they chuffed. when was the last time they drank like this? every time they went to a bar, they had their friends to look after. nothing’s quite as lame as being the designated driver, they thought. to them, that was another indication of their plainness; they weren’t fun enough to party with. instead, they were left to scroll on their phone while sitting on a barstool, catching themself gazing wistfully up at the chalkboard drink menu. but tonight they had indulged. not at a bar, but alone on their armchair, sipping wine and watching their ceiling go in and out of focus. they knew they’d had enough when they watched the ceiling slowly bend, rise, and fall as if there were a pair of lungs under the plaster.

once they were fully bare, they carefully stepped under the scalding water. they flinched and then froze, willing themself to not back away. they weren’t the one to run. they wouldn’t run.

they closed their eyes and let the burning water hit their front. they could already feel their chest turning a darker, uglier color. but they wouldn’t step back. they wouldn’t turn the temperature down. it felt good, the heat. images of him flashed through their mind, causing their brow to furrow in helpless frustration. his hands, his fingertips, his breath, it was all so hot. they had never felt so much heat before him. now though, they had been left cold for days. just like the outings with their ‘friends.’ after he slammed the door and ran, they were back on a lonely barstool. cold. freezing. they’d never felt so much ice before him, either.

a figure hovered in front of the bathroom door. the smell of hair conditioner wafted to the creature’s senses, his red irises eclipsed by black need. the smell called to him, screamed his name. but he shouldn’t even be there in the first place. the instinct, the guilt, the aroma—what was the matter with him? he’d fed on some poor soul minutes ago and still couldn’t focus? he wrapped his hand around the doorknob and squeezed. they weren’t singing like they usually do. was that his fault? he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the door, focusing harder. a foul, shocking odor struck him. alcohol in their blood? was that his fault?

treasure heard the door creak open and yelped. before they could peek around the curtain…. “it’s me, darling. are you drunk?” they stayed silent and felt their fear morph into a melancholic frustration. any other well adjusted member of society would be full of terror and adrenaline if someone suddenly appeared in their home, but porter ripped away that sense of normalcy long ago. the mere sound of his voice caused an irritation, never mind him calling them ‘darling’ again. they rolled their eyes.

“what on earth are you doing here?! i thought you’d at least have the sense to throw away the key,” they spat coldly. porter’s shoulders shrank a little and he looked down at the tile. usually he would remark that he didn’t need a key anyway, but that attitude was exactly what had earned him this mess. his voice was low and small.

“you want rid of me that much?”

the rushing water dampened his sound a bit, but treasure could easily tell he was being wary and... something else. they pulled the curtain back just enough to reveal their head and took in the sight of him. a black blazer with a scarf, as usual, except his slacks were wrinkled. and his hair wasn’t even gelled. odd. they leaned against the shower wall as to not lose their footing and played off their disorientation by scoffing at him, ignoring his question. “did your king take away your wares too? you look shitty.” porter didn’t laugh, and he certainly didn’t miss the indignation behind the word ‘king.’ he approached and loomed over them, masking his annoyance.

“please, enough about him. you’re drunk.”

they scoffed again and went back to their shower routine, rinsing the rest of their hair. they didn’t close the curtain though. porter took the subtle invitation and leaned against the drywall, watching them through the gap in the curtain. he widened it a bit with his hand and started again. “i can fix that for you. give me your hand and you’ll be sober.” porter never knew them as one to indulge so heavily. he didn’t want to push as to why they had drank because he had a feeling it would only make them blow up at him, but he couldn’t deny there was a part of him that wanted to prod. the way they prodded him. but not this time.

treasure mulled over his words and extended their hand without looking back at him. they of all people knew how senseless drunk conversations can be. porter gently took their hand and tried not to linger on how whole it made him feel. using magic, he traced the excess amounts of alcohol in their bloodstream and dissipated it. he stood watchfully, trying not to overstep but wanting desperately to keep hold of them during the jarring sobering. they wobbled on their feet with their eyes closed for a moment before opening and snapping their gaze back at him. there was the alertness they were lacking. “clearer?” he asked, to which they gave him a curt nod.

now that they were in their right mind, they scanned over his form once more: he wasn't a drunken illusion. an awkward silence fell over the pair. treasure's eyes flitted back and forth between porter and the shower wall. when porter didn't take the hint, they eventually spoke up. “get in if you want. you just look stupid standing there,” they mumbled, yanking the curtain shut.

porter’s clothes instantly phased away as he yielded to the insult and stepped into the enclosed space. he stayed opposite of treasure and kept his back pressed against the wet tile, his arms wrapped around his middle. treasure threw him a look over their shoulder, snickering dryly. “you only have good manners after we fight?” the vampire let out an amused huff from his nostrils and hung his head.

“it seems it always takes something drastic to make me learn, yes.”

treasure turned around fully and reached for their body scrub, looking up at him as they bent down. their gaze was steely but their lips were tempting. “well i haven’t heard a ‘sorry,’ so do i have to beat one out of you?” they joked humorlessly.

those words caused the flame of guilt to lick at porter’s skin once more. ‘beat one out of him’—were they being sarcastic at their own expense? the inhuman strength in every muscle fiber in his body told him yes. god, he used that against them in their argument. he talked down to them, using ‘human’ as an insult, shoving in their face how much power he held over them. he didn’t start the fight, but he didn’t have to finish it like that. he’d never harm them, but he gave them such a strong implication that he could and made them feel bad about it. he called them stupid for even being with him, made himself out to be a monster they needed to run from. but they both knew porter was the one who was running. even so, in all of porter’s long existence, treasure was the first thing he’d ever ran back to. he could lose everything, but not them.

porter took a small step forward with his head still hanging and motioned for the container of body scrub. treasure gave him a puzzled look. the vampire sighed and took another step, gently taking the container from their hand and setting it down. “treasure, i….” he considered their choice of words again. he finally raised his head and looked into their eyes. “you can—you can do anything you want to me. i’m very sorry for what i said, but… whatever satisfies you. whatever gives you power.”

the vampire in front of treasure was not one they easily recognized. his eyes were nearly-black orbs and shone with desperate longing. porter solaire was a slighting creature, who was this? it was porter, just porter. treasure gave him a slow nod. “make it up to me.”

the vampire’s eyes lit up and he swiftly made his move. his lips attached to treasure’s neck, fangs firmly retracted. this wasn’t about him, nothing tonight was about him. his hands slid up the wet slopes of their hips and waist. a trapped moan escaped him when he felt them like that. he was touching god and it was burning, but he loved it. his kisses trailed across their neck and up their chin, aiming for their perfect lips. but when he tried to reach them, a resounding smack echoed in their steamy enclosure. porter blinked and his head was whipped around to the right, a red hot sting on his cheek. treasure’s hand returned to grip his jaw and pointed his head forward at them.

“i didn’t give you permission to kiss me. you think you deserve my lips?” porter could’ve cum right there. he shook his head.

“no, no i don’t. can i earn it?” his voice was like nothing they had heard before.

“you can. do what i said and make it up to me. you know what i like.”

porter nodded once more before sinking to his knees, his hands slipping down their body reverently. he groaned at the smell of their arousal, his eyes rolling back and then locking back onto theirs. he briefly recalled the night they first met. if only he had known how mad he would go for the taste of what was in front of him.

the vampire pressed light kisses around their groin with his eyes remaining trained on theirs. just how they like it. “i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm so sorry,” he repeated in between kisses. treasure's hand came down to muss up his hair and his erection twitched. they nodded at him with a pleased grin and gave him a tug as a reward. his precum dribbled onto the grout.

shortly, porter's efforts made it so treasure leaked more of their own arousal; that was porter’s cue. he licked a long stripe upward, collecting their slick on his flattened tongue and letting out a whine at their salty taste. he quickly dove in for more, moaning louder than treasure. his hands were planted firmly in his lap, not touching himself or the beauty before him; he knew he wasn’t deserving of doing either. treasure smiled and leaned their head back, their hips bucking in a smooth rhythm against his mouth. porter could cry at their movement—the gorgeous fluidity and the signal that he was giving it to them right.

nothing ever felt as right as when he was giving them pleasure. he couldn’t count how many nights he would spend god knows where, making god knows who disappear; it wasn’t in his nature to bring anything but pain. he was a sinner through and through, but that first night with treasure at skyside, he thinks, he began repenting. he found religion in every breath they took, every twitch of ecstasy he fed them. he felt holy at their feet.

“porter, i’m so close,” they gasped, causing the vampire’s dead heart to pound. he nodded emphatically, shaking his head side to side just to give them that extra stimulation. his desperate moans also sent vibrations to their sensitive flesh, setting their nerves alight. their grip on his hair was lethal and porter’s arousal was reaching a tipping point. he no longer had control over himself; treasure was pushing and pulling and holding his face flush against them until any normal human would’ve suffocated. porter’s mind was going hazy as if he was, his true feelings emerging from thoughtless bliss.

“i could die,” he panted as he gazed up at them, “let me die like this.” they climaxed only a second later.

ambrosia seeped onto porter’s tongue and he drank piously, catching every drop. treasure’s wanton whimpers and breaths filled the vampire’s ears and he couldn’t have been happier. he knew this is where he belonged, and he wouldn’t ever forgive himself for nearly forsaking it.

treasure finally let go of porter’s hair and he whined at the loss. they chuckled breathlessly and patted their chest, signaling that they wanted to be eye to eye. the vampire quickly stood, hissing quietly when his painful erection brushed up against their stomach. he swallowed at the closeup view of their blissed-out face; their eyes were in a lazy, seductive droop, but their grin was what ensnared him. he hadn’t seen one in days and now he’d earned one back, no matter the sadistic undertones behind it. they reached a hand out and cupped his cheek, smiling wider when his eyelids fluttered at the touch. porter didn’t notice their hand sneaking down to grip his base and his eyes shot open once he felt it.

“i’m assuming you want this taken care of?” they teased, tapping his cock against their stomach. he groaned pathetically, putting his hands on the wall behind them. he gripped at nothing, fingers clenching and unclenching around nothing and trying not to crack the tile. hovering over treasure was a beast of incomprehensible strength, holding himself back for one reason: forgiveness.

“treasure… i’m begging you.”

their wolfish grin slowly faded as they leaned in closer, squeezing his cock harshly. “and you’ll keep begging until i forgive you.” with that, they released him and shut off the water, promptly snatching their towel and stepping onto the floor mat without him. they left the bathroom before he could even process what they said.

the vampire blinked and hurried after them, bare and dripping wet. treasure was already laying on their back in bed, equally naked and damp. their towel was beneath them and they gazed at him expectantly. porter’s eyes widened as he realized what they wanted. he could hardly believe it. with vampiric speed, he was on his knees over them in a split second. their legs were spread and knees bent up, the sight making him look away and curse. god, he couldn’t take it. but treasure wasn’t having that. a smack to the thigh and his eyes were snapped open.

“you’ll look at me when you fuck me, or i’ll make you stop. don’t even fucking blink,” they threatened lowly. porter moaned but nodded, leaning down to be closer to them. without breaking eye contact, he spat on his fingers and rubbed it on their entrance, hoping to please them again. they sighed airily and reached down for his cock, unexpectedly prodding themself with it. porter gasped and almost lost his balance, catching himself on the pillow next to their head. they snickered and rolled their eyes, easing his length inside of them. it was still faster than porter ever started off, and he showed his unpreparedness by cursing and gripping their sheets. they swiftly got him fully seated and let them both settle into it, their gummy walls hugging porter’s cock snugly. he looked as if he was containing a scream.

“t-treasure you—gods, you could’ve hurt yourself doing that,” he heaved, his chest rising and falling as he tried not to cum. in response, they dug their nails into the small of his back and raked down to his ass, watching his head roll back and his mouth gape. always a sucker for pain, scratches were his favorite kryptonite. treasure had an unreadable look and gave the command he had been yearning for.

“i’m fine, just fuck me. don’t you dare go slow.”

porter was mildly concerned by their order, but he had to give them what they wanted. he would rather die than not. his hips pulled back until just his tip was inside before coming back down, thrusting smoothly into them. the sinful sound of his hips smacking into the back of their thighs drove them both wild. treasure’s nails only sank deeper into his skin, causing porter’s own wobbly grin to emerge. he fucked them faster, egged on by the delicious sting. he lowered himself more so their bodies were flush. their nipples rubbed against his chest and he panted in their ear, “like this, my love? tell me, please tell me i’m giving you what you want. fuck….”

in their own rapture, they nodded and turned their head to smile back at him. their words were mere breathy puffs of air. “uh-huh… yes, god yes. don’t stop ‘til i cum.” as if porter would’ve done otherwise.

treasure was making such a mess of themself it was audible. the vampire looked down and saw the telltale shiny slick, whining in their ear at the sight. they were so turned on for him. he put his weight on his left forearm which rested above their head and used his free hand to snake down their stomach, reaching their leaking essence. he put the pad of his thumb on their most sensitive spot and stroked up and down, up and down, earning strangled, surprised moans. his eyes bore into theirs as he continued his ministrations while fucking them, his expression one of a dog that just performed a trick for its owner: hopeful, eager, and aching for approval. “fuck, that’s how you like it…. i’ll make you cum, i’ll make you cum so fucking hard, treasure.”

the vampire was reaching speeds only his kind are able to, making treasure’s thighs ripple in ways they hadn’t felt before. porter never had a reason to fuck them this good before, and now that he was, they didn’t think they could ever go back. their body was bouncing as they lay down, mouth agape with licentious sounds pouring out. they hated that their hostility had crumbled under his hips, but they knew they’d have hated themself more if they pushed him away. right then, they just wanted to cum on his cock.

the bed frame squeaked and slid against the floor, banging against the wall. porter’s tempo was perfect, so fucking good against that sweet spongy spot inside them, his tip kissing it over and over. he didn’t know how he was holding it together. “i’m getting close, treasure. fuck, you have to cum, you have to,” he choked out in a frenzy. his thumb rubbed and stroked them faster, his hips losing rhythm but gaining speed. somehow through their pleasure-blinded haze, treasure looked porter in the eyes and raked their nails once more down his back. fuck, he wished he could scar.

“mm, beg me. beg for my cum,” they demanded with a groan. porter felt himself instantly melt under their authority and he whined in frustration, his knees almost buckling at their words. he fucked them faster and complied.

“fuck, please treasure! i need your cum, i fucking need it! i can’t—i can’t cum before you, i don’t deserve it. you have to cum for me, m-my love. i’ll never fucking raise my voice at you again, never. gods, oh my gods, please please please cum!”

he looked in their eyes the whole time, beggarly and despairing. treasure couldn’t help but succumb to all of the pleasure he was throwing at them. a few deep, swift thrusts later and they were creaming all over him. they went stiff and their mouth dropped open in a silent scream. porter felt their hole clench and pulse around him, effortlessly sending him down the same path. his cum pumped inside of them in thick ropes of ivory. he buried his head in their neck and let out a continuous string of groans and whimpers, hips shallowly bucking with each spurt of cum. his thumb never stopped stroking even as treasure reached the end of their climax. they enjoyed that slight bit of overstimulation, so they didn’t stop him. it was endearing how focused he was on making them feel good even in the throes of his own ecstasy.

porter eventually finished and collapsed beside them, eyes shut and breaths heavy. treasure remained on their back and stared up at the ceiling just as they were before he arrived. though, they were now drunk on him instead of wine. his cum steadily oozed out of them and they briefly thanked themself for having the foresight to put the towel underneath them.

“you’re cleaning this up,” they mumbled, breaking the silence. porter had practically rendered their shower useless, after all. the vampire cracked an eye open and wore a neutral expression.

“of course i am, my sweet, but in a moment. i missed this,” he replied evenly. treasure simply nodded and went back to staring upward. their gaze shifted to the ceiling fan and focused on a single fan blade, following it through each slow revolution. they felt a hand cautiously slide across their stomach, ending up cupping their side. porter scooted closer to them and held them like that, almost balling himself up in the fetal position beside them. they didn’t look over at him. they were afraid if they did, they would break. a part of them was still upset at him and knew they would confront him again, but the larger part told them that now was not the time. if they looked over at him now, they knew they would forget why they were even mad at him in the first place. for now, in this moment, they would let sleeping dogs lie and bask in the arms of a creature who would do anything for them, knowingly or not.

@vind3miat0r :)))

[kissitbttr]

omg I am in LOVEE with frat!miguel and cheerleader reader 🙏💕 I was picturing reader somehow getting injured at one of Miguel’s games (maybe a player slams into her or she hits her head), and him literally RUSHING off of the field to help her and people are shocked to see him getting so soft!!!! Ofc, this could be the other way around too, but soft!miguel would be such a shock, especially considering his reputation, and so cute to see 🥲🤲 Xoxo

“y/n watch out!”

your cheer mate scream at you with eyes wide, and before you could turn around, someone else’s bigger physique crashes into you. causing your body to fall and your head lands into the ground with a loud thud,

the audience let out a collective of gasps and surprised, worrying about the small girl getting concussed by the large linebacker who hurriedly get on his feet before spitting countless of apologies,

but nothing compares to how miguel reacts when he sees his girl falls,

his blood runs cold, aggressively taking off his helmet and let it fall into the grass before sprinting towards you in full speed,

“muñeca !!” he screams, voice filled with worried while ignoring the coach calling out his last name. as the rest of the team begins to exchange glances, wondering what the fuck happened to miguel.

because he’s never been the one to leave his position in any circumstances. football means a lot to him, he lives and breathe football.

so to see him completely dismissing the game is a shock to the rest,

“f-fuck i’m so sorry, i didn’t—“

“what the actual fuck was that?!” miguel roars once he gets to see you close, but his angry eyes move towards the guy who just crashed into you. his big hands violently shove the man out of your sight,

“didn’t you fucking hear the rules?! this area is off limits! there’s a line drawn here el hijo de puta!!”

“the fuck?! the ball was—“

“i don’t give a fuck if the ball went through here!! you leave it as it is!! someone could get seriously injured! you want someone to fucking die or something?!”

the team has never seen miguel so angry and red, it’s almost like miguel could actually snap that man’s neck in half. his eyes are filled with vengeance as he continues to call the guy names for hurting you,

beck’s face goes pale. “oh fuck” he mutters, jogging towards miguel and hurriedly put a space in between them. “okay okay, man! easy, easy! don’t start a fight, need me to remind you what happened to chuck last year?!”

beck searches for any significant changes on miguel’s face. heavy breathing combines with a deadly look on his expression before he shakes his head,

“okay good. let me take care of this and go to your girl. she’s still hurt” he pats on miguel’s shoulder pad before he walks off,

miguel is still burning with anger but that soon subsides when he hears you call out his name,

“miggy?”

he never turns around so quickly, bending down to your level as his arms begin to cradle your fragile body before pulling you close. “you good, baby?” his voice is now gentle and soft. “let me see”

his fingers move underneath your chin, gently tilting it back and winces when he sees a small scar across your forehead.

“dizzy?” he asks, you nod in response, hand holding your head. he then looks up to one of your cheer mates,

“get a medic, now!” he yells out, putting your head against his chest so you can rest comfortably,

“o’hara! get back here, game isn’t over!” his coach yells angrily

“i’m not moving until my girl is taken care of! go get someone off the bench to replace me if you have to!” he responds by looking over his shoulder for a moment

the coach’s shoulders slump, brows dipping into a frown as he shakes his head. “the fuck? this kid—“ he grumbles before turning around,

glen nudges beck’s side with his elbow, looking as confused as the rest.

“I don’t get it. he never asks someone to replace him. not even when his knee was busted.”

beck looks over at the two of you, watching how miguel intently taking care of your injured self.

“yeah, I don’t get it, either” beck mutters but with a small smile. seeing how his best friend completely fallen for you was definitely not on his bingo card. it’s a good change, he supposed,

he’s never been this in love with his previous girlfriends. not dana nor xina. you’re pretty much the first. he guesses, you must be the one for him,

beck gets it. he does.

[koiiiji]

author’s note ; im not really into that omegaverse stuff, and don’t know much about it, but dynamics of big lonely wolf seongji yook x mischievous fox reader living in my head for awhile now 👉🏻👈🏻

tw ; fantasy au, omegaverse (?), suggestive +18 content, nsfw, seongji being service dom, MINORS, AGELESS BLOGS DNI, dom/sub dynamics, whatever else i forget to add

❁ seongji found you in the forests on his mountain. you were hissing and sizzling on him, not letting him get closer to you, when seongji just tried to safe your leg from trap, that definitely was set by people of village to catch him - a monster who terrorized their village (only in their honest opinion)

❁ and honestly, he felt terrible for you, you got in trap that was set for him, and was way too big for you - huge, sharp teeth of the trap bit deep into the skin and meat on your ankle, hampering your movements. also, as seongji noticed, you definitely was close to his species, it was obvious because of your big ears, annoyed fluffy tail, small claws and fangs. he never saw any fox hybrids in this area, so you probably was so lonely all this time, just like him… and you were so cute, hissing at him, trying to play it cool. it was obvious that you were scared, this is a natural reaction to a larger predator. each time seongji tried to get closer to you, you pressed your cute red ears to your head, your fluffy tail started twitching in annoyance! and yet, you were so… small, seongji just knew you didn’t had enough food last few months…

❁ when he finally got you out of the trap - you just passed out when his huge palm tried to cover your eyes, that’s how exhausted and hungry you were - so he brought you to his cave.

❁ days passed as you warmed up to him, opened up to him, became more natural around him, your true self came out - you truly were live proof of why fox hybrids deserve their name of weasels and dodgers. you always clinging to him with your cocky little jokes, having no concept of what personal space is in your pretty little head, your small fangs lightly biting his cheeks or ears, or even his biceps when seongji tries to stop your little games, holding your annoying loud head between the elbow bend and biceps, just to finally had his afternoon nap after another successful hunt.

❁ even though he was enthusiastic when he found you, seongji really wanted to help, and he actually saved you. but when you refused to leave his cave - not like he kicked you out, despite his perpetually grumbling, he liked that you were sneaking around his house here and there - sometimes he was wondering for what sins did you fall on his head… but generally he is happy that he have a company now, at least it’s not so lonely anymore on his mountain.

❁ and everything was wonderful until… your little game with him didn’t start… to feel different. seongji could say that something in him changed too. now you became more clingy and generally more close to him, always nuzzling your cheek under his chin, right above his adam's apple, where was his sensitive spot. each time you pass by him and your tail not so accidentally touched his nose or neck he was rolling his eyes in in ecstasy, immediately turning his head in your direction and sniffing at the strip of sweet smell that was trailing behind you, giving out only a low, rumbling, quiet growl somewhere inside his throat. another problem was that you were very hot. no, not in the sense that seongji thought you were sexy, (that's exactly what he thought), but literally. it was very pleasant to touch you, you were so warm, even hot, and the blood raging in your body gave your cheeks such a sweet blush. it was cute. and he couldn’t help himself really, it was hard, each time leaving his house for hunt, only to get in another fight with any other male that showed up on his territory, or getting a little bit carried away and bringing home more food then needed. Seongji didn't understand why he had become so worked up. now all he can think about is to fight, and somehow his usual instincts were deep down now they’re came back, more feral, wild, bestial. he could sense your presence, your warmth kilometers away, he could sense you.

❁ on the other hand Seongji noticed changes in you as well. yes, you were clingy before, but now it doubled and seemed that you became more vocal… always mumbling, almost purring each time you managed to touch him. and oh, how sensitive you became. each time you start your games again, seongji needed 3 minutes before you whimper from his teeth on your ear, because in your opinion he bit your ear too hard, when in fact he didn’t even put any force on it. Seongji would rather sink through the ground than admit that in fact he likes your games, and what an offended grimace you make when you try to take offense at him, but always coming back.

❁ one day, after another hunt, Seongji returned home, only to be greeted by silence and it was unusual, because you always met him with open arms. making his way deeper into his house, he called you a couple of times, but when he didn't get an answer, he started to worry. he always wondered if other hybrids could sense you miles away as he did? what if his guesses were true, and someone else felt your scent? what if- he had no opportunity to finish his thought when someone abruptly knocked him down and knocked him to the floor. Seongji was caught off guard and now his opponent had an advantage over him from above. just second after, your scent hit his nose, and your hot breath burned his neck, until he felt your body almost on fire.

❁ you looked down at him, pinning him to the floor with your hands on his broad chest and shifting your hips on his abdomen. your cloudy gaze didn’t leave his face, your cheeks were flushed, and tears almost came to your eyes when you whined on top of him "Seongji…. please help me...it's... it's so hot there.... and it hurts…" to say that Seongji was shocked and confused at the same time was to say nothing. he was bursting with overflowing feelings and thoughts. he lived most of his life completely alone, and had no idea what partner actually means. and as he got older, he didn't have a chance to get close to anyone, but he would be lying if he said he hadn't touched himself. just like he’d be lying if he said he’d never fantasized about the two of you. when you moved into the house, he had some sweet thoughts, but Seongji always blushed and waved them away, convincing himself that you were just friends.

❁ and after each thought how he would bend you over nearest surface and pull your tail up after you annoyed him a little too much, he convinced himself that you were just friends. after each wet dream, when he woke up in the middle of the night because of the too realistic images in dreams, where the two of you are gently clinging and nuzzling to each other, the bodies move in unison, and you literally drown in each other, when you reach your peaks, he still convinced himself that you were just friends and he shouldn’t think about you like that.

❁ but when both of you started to change in your behavior, Seongji couldn't stop himself. every day his head was full of sinful thoughts, and your behavior didn't help in any way. and that's what your general silence led to - whining, you pinned him to the floor, desperately fidgeting and looking for more friction, in an attempt to calm the heat below. gently intercepting your hands, Seongji looked into your eyes a little tensely, as if asking if he could sit down. at the same time, he raised himself on his elbows, and sat down uncertainly, now holding you on his lap, slowly releasing your hands. his tail wagged a little and his ears flattened against his head as he bent lower, slowly touching your lips, exploring and tasting you. you deepened the kiss in your impatience, and knocked him to the ground again, biting his lips with your little fangs and digging your claws into his shoulders. in response, he let out a low throaty growl, making you guiltily put your ears to your head and apologetically look into his eyes. sitting down again, he pressed you closer so that you could feel his stone boner through your clothes, and without giving you a chance to squirm and enjoy the friction, Seongji grabbed you by the hips, carrying you to his room.

❁ later that evening he discovered how much your lower back can arch when his hands are on your sides and he's hammering into you from behind. Seongji found out what a sweet voice you can have when he fucked you standing up, so you had to rise on your toes, so he could hit into that sensitive spot inside you. that night, he also zeroed in that your soft, hot walls squeeze him harder if his big palm presses on your tummy, just below the navel. Seongji also liked the feeling when he folded you almost in half, when he held both your legs on his shoulders, denting you into the mattress. but most of all, he remembers the moment when your throbbing walls squeezed him for the last time, when you both lay on your side, hugging each other, and then he could swear that in the dark of the night he could see the little hearts in the depths of your eyes when he came after you, filling you deeply and abundantly, so you almost drooled.

[voxslays]

Can I request a little spicy headcannon with the male characters in Hazbin. Would love to see how they would react to the reader doing the walking in naked challenge to them❤️❤️

SUCH A TEASE

Featuring >>> Alastor, Lucifer, Adam, Valentino, Vox, & Husk x Reader (separately)

Warnings: Suggestive, Talks of sex (but no actual smut-)

Alastor

Deer in headlights. Will only snap out of it once he had adjusted to it. (Because apparently deer do that??? Google help me-)

The stag will say things such as; “My dear? What are you wearing?” In a horrified way. (Because of the time period).

Would go get you some clothes, a towel, etc. You will be covered up, don’t worry. You can count on this man to go find you clothes, even though that probably (definitely) wasn’t your intention-

Lucifer

Notices immediately…and is such a dork. Would say things like “Oh golly!” Or just stutter and slur his words to the point you don’t even know what he originally meant to say!

His cheeks become a deep golden as the (golden) blood runs to his face. He is very embarrassed about it—so don’t (do) tease him.

The devil will attempt to flirt, but fail miserably. He keeps stumbling over his words. How could he not when someone as gorgeous or handsome as you is in his line of sight!?

Vox

Not phased whatsoever. Is probably too busy working or stalking Alastor to even notice your sheer lack of clothing. It will take him forever to notice—Valentino will have to literally point it out—and even then, he might not pay that much attention to it.

But when he does? He glitches and the proceeds to blue screen…before all the power in the entire city is cut off. What can he say? You’re just to gorgeous.

Oh…you’re in for a long night. Vox will not be able to keep his hands off you, so I hope you don’t need your legs the next day (or week).

Adam

Is the type to go “What did I do to deserve this?~” in a very flirtatious way. You will never hear the end of it.

Like Valentino…this man will be on you within seconds. You are in for a long night (or longer, depending on your stamina).

Over the next evening—or afternoon if Adam is feeling really impatient and decides to just bend you over the meeting table—you will experience every position under the sun. Have fun.

Husk

Won’t really care 2.0. Sure, he might blush a little and admire you, but husk isn’t really one to act on it I’d imagine.

Now Overlord!Husk? Oh boy…He is just like Adam and Valentino. He will bend you over one of the poker tables in the middle of the casino floor as a punishment for teasing him. He absolutely doesn’t care about the forming crowd watching the overlord fuck you.

Valentino

He may have poor eyesight…but he could never miss your gorgeous body any day. Is immediately humping you like the disgusting freak he is. Please do not feed into his weird fantasies…It will only encourage him…

As the two of you are going at it as you inevitably do—because he’s the overlord of lust and depravity—he will tell you how much he’d love to see your beautiful (or handsome) face in his studio.

Seek professional help.