#just picture however you love the most that has a little soft tummy and is sexy as all hell 😉😘😜

[somedaytakethetime]

Don't you even dare to ask me what this is because I don't know myself. I'm a harlot, I'm plagued, I'm the devil, I don't know. That's the answer. I find information online and I.JUST.CAN'T.LET.IT.GO. SCREAM INTO THE VOID WITH ME OKAY?? P.S. DON'T READ THIS

Notes: the most cursed, demonic, absolutely horribly filthy thing I'll ever sear anyone's eyes with? Possibly? This isn't as daring as I can get, ask my best friend if you don't believe me, but this is the most daring I'll ever be on here Warnings: do I need to? Read every other clue, babes, just.. pure filth... you know where the exit door is if you're a child. Also there's body insecurity in this. From a male perspective. Which gets written about very little, in my opinion, but it's prevalent and well... we're here to change the insecure kings opinions of themselves 😤 Word count: 4 154 words

It's a gradual thing. Something you don't realise at first. It happens slowly and covertly, so you don't really understand that it's happening. But at some point you start to piece it together. He watches himself in the mirror a lot, after showers and when he's getting dressed early in the morning. He avoids looking at himself late at night, especially after heavy and harsh days at work. He avoids looking at his body, unless he's scrutinising himself. Like... after.. Every. Single. Shower. You don't understand that's what he's doing at first, because he's so serious and focused as he looks at himself in the mirror from all angles. You assume he must be checking for bruises, cuts, scrapes, etc. That he must be assessing the damage that a harshly physical job brings. You'd want to take in all the damage too because it's painful to sit on a bruise you didn't know was there until you squashed it.. it's happened to him a lot more than he'll ever admit. But.. you catch him squeezing his stomach once. He did it so fast you barely understood that's what he did. Until it hit you that he just did something you're always doing too, when you look in the mirror, and feel insecure about yourself. He becomes closed off after that. Doesn't touch you as much, doesn't let you touch him much either. His clothes have always been looser, he likes being comfortable, but somehow they become even looser. He avoids anything that flatters him, dresses in baggy, completely dark clothes. Like he's trying to become a walking void. He starts stressing about aging too. Looks in the mirror and prodes at his face, looking for wrinkles and white hairs. None that exist at all. But he seems to think they do.. and then he starts making comments..

Seems obsessed with your age too, the difference between you both. Who's younger, who's older, how many years, months, days, there are between you. What he was up to in x year vs where you were. What he was doing, what he already knew how to do, what little amount of experience and life you might have lived in year y when he was already on an inevitable path to becoming who he is today. Becomes obsessed with time, stresses about the future. Stresses about the past, feels sadly nostalgic, reminisces and wishes he could have been there earlier, wishes to change who he is to match up with you better. Wishes things were different and there was more time. Acts as if the end of the world is looming near and there's only 5 more minutes on earth left to spend together. Looks sad and forlorn. And the most frustrating and infuriating thing is that he doesn't let you in. Shuts you down when you remind him that reality isn't what he's imagining in his head lately. Dismisses you when you challenge his view and explain that things are fine and there's so many more years in a lifetime to be lived, there's time for everything and more. Pushes you away when you try to touch him at times even.. makes you feel cold inside. Confused and scared that things might be falling apart and you can't fix it because he won't let you in. It starts to enrage you. Because he keeps pushing his own perceived notions of everything onto you, assumes the "reality" he's seeing as something that you are seeing when you couldn't see it further from that if you tried. It all comes to blows late one night after a disastrous dinner.

You put on your nicest dress. You wanted to look nice for him, wanted him to see you again because he wasn't looked at you in a while now. You miss him so badly. Miss his touch, miss his kisses, miss.. well.. you miss feeling his body on yours in ways that the bible possibly wouldn't approve of.. it's been what? a month? possibly a month now. He complains he's stressed, that there's too much on his plate, that he's too distracted by work but he forgets that.. usually.. it was most prevalent when he was stressed.. because, in his own words, 'you relaxe me like nothing else, baby'. Cheesy and he's the first to admit it, but there's something deep and almost fragilely emotional behind the jokes. Like every time he teases and says cheesy lines he means them deeply, he's just afraid to show exactly how deeply that is. Even in the longing looks he gives you, which have become more frequent lately, it's as if he's deeply afraid to lose you but only biding his time until you'll inevitably walk away. As if he doesn't believe he's good enough for you.. and he makes it evident all through dinner. Comments on how the waiter keeps checking you out, something which would normally bring out his jealous side and he'd feel the need to assert his dominance to every man in a 10km radius. Not tonight. He comments on how young the waiter is, how he seems to be in great shape, and dares to look at you and say "Maybe you should ditch the old man and go for a young one.. it might suit you better." winks and tries to act like it's playful but.. you've had enough. You push away from the table "That's it. I want to go home. I've lost my appetite." and you just walk out to go wait by his car. He's fuming by the time he gets to you but says nothing. Drives in absolute silence too and you're so hurt and angry you can't find it in yourself to say a word. When you arrive, you rush into the house, leaving him behind to park in the garage, but he's somehow not far behind you by the time you're tossing your shoes aside. "Did you think that was funny? Did you enjoy ruining our dinner?" he has the utter gall to say... and you lose your temper finally.

"Excuse me?? I did what now?" and he marches towards you, presses his body to yours, you almost feel angry when you think this is the closest he's gotten to you in 3 weeks, he looms over you and reminds you exactly of how big his body is, says irritated "You stormed out over a stupid joke and you ruined the nice dinner we'd been having. By now you should know that I joke around a lot, I don't get why you acted this way tonight. You can be such a child sometimes." you're not in your right mind but you're so angry that you push him. Harshly. He stumbles back a little, wasn't expecting that from you, looks at you hurt and offended. But you just scoff and march towards him now "No, I did not. You ruined our fucking dinner by being a Debbie Downer. Same way you've been every single fucking day lately. Mentioned some other man whom I wouldn't even look once at proper, let alone twice, daring to suggest that I should make a switch. How are you this fucking dense?" you're toe to toe, looking into each other's eyes, angry at each other. There's a crackling of electricity in the air around you, you're both on the verge of losing your tempers entirely. "Maybe you need a younger man, he'd probably have more patience to put up with your childish behaviour. I'm old and tired." you've never wanted to slap him before, but he's making it really hard on you not to.. "No, you're fucking not! Have you heard yourself lately?! I'm old this, I'm finished that, I'm such and such. What the hell has gotten into you?? All the jokes about me being too young, all the comments about other guys and their bodies, all the shit about how I should probably leave before I have to start caring for the elderly.. what the fuck?? What is your problem?! If you're sick and tired of me just break up, don't bully me into leaving and try to make it seem like it's my fucking choice!" he suddenly gets serious. He feels there's a threat to his relationship, that the real option that you might leave is right there in front of him, that this is the end.. and he doesn't know how to deal with that. He's hurt just thinking about it. So he shuts down as he always does. "If you want to leave you can go right ahead. You know where the doors are and no one has ever locked you in this house against your will. But don't blame it on me, I haven't told you to do shit." and he just walks away.

You stare at the wall in front of you, the empty space he's left behind, for likely 5 or more minutes. It's eerily quiet in the bedroom, even though he's in there, and you're trying to let your anger settle down. He's hurt, he feels threatened, he feels pushed. He only ever reacts with cold detachment when he feels deeply hurt. You're trying so hard not to be hurt but you can't help the tears running down your cheeks. You love this man so much it hurts, physically, like there's aches in your chest when you think about how deeply you love him, how desperately you desire him, how much you want to spend all your minutes with him forever. It hurts deeply that he doesn't seem to accept that, or believe it, lately. Something has changed and he won't let you in on it. It feels cold to be left out, you thought you shared everything as one. It's painful to think you don't. But you don't want this to be the end. You're not ready to let go, you'll never be. You take a deep breath and turn around, walk to the bedroom and find him curled in on himself. Frozen in place and eerily still. 'Deeply hurt.. makes two of us, mate' you think. Clearly, he's not ready to let go either. You lay down behind him, wrap your arms around him as best as you can and you feel his whole body tense up. "I love you. I don't understand why you don't believe me, but I love you so much. I don't know what else to do to show this to you in a way you'll accept it too." He takes several minutes but eventually turns around. His face is red, he's trying not to cry in front of you but his eyes are filled with tears. He pulls you to him, kisses you softly but so deeply, whispers in that rough and affected voice of his that's so unfairly and wrongly sexy for the moment, "I love you so much that I want to die thinking about you leaving me." "Then why are you pushing me away?" he won't meet your eyes, his voice is soft and whispered, dripping with insecurity now, "Because I don't deserve you."

"No. No no no. No." you shake your head, hold his face and keep kissing him, want to pour all the love you feel into him so he'll believe it too. His hands wrap around your body, pull you so tight to him that you can feel every line of muscle in his body, every tendon moving, every ridge and curve of him, "Don't ever say that again, just don't. Don't say that." he shakes his head "It's true. You're just.. you deserve better. I'm washed up, tired, old and just.." he whispers so so quietly you barely hear it. Fat. It takes you so many seconds to realise he said it. He just called himself fat. The scoff you let out fills the air. You're furious now. Who said it? Who insulted him? Who broke his confidence this way?? Who was it?? You'll have their heads on a platter. How dare anyone insult your man? How dare anyone make him feel like his body isn't the picture of perfection? In another century he would have had artists tripping over themselves to sculpt him out of marble, he would have been Adonis.. David.. the ideal male physique. He would have been considered a god. "How dare you? Who said it??" he just looks at you "Who the fuck said you were fat? I'll kick their ass! Who was the fucker that made you feel insecure??", he leans up and moves from you, sits up on the bed, and looks at the floor, "No one had to say anything. I have eyes, you know? I get dressed around men every single day, I've seen more men naked in the last ten years than most people have in a lifetime.. I can see the differences between us." you scramble up to sit next to him, angry and shocked that he's thinking these things about himself, "How the fu-.. no! Absolutely not! What the hell?? No! You are not less than any other guy. In fact! You're hotter than all of them combined! There is not a single guy out there that can compete with you and win. You're just..." you gesture wildly, can't even pin down exactly what he stands for and how insanely attractive he is, "You're everything! You're all of it! You're smart, you're cultured, you have unbelievably quick reflexes, you have a body that would make Gods jealous, you're so fucking fine.., you also have the stamina of a fighting bull and.." you trail off, get distracted by all the flashes of heated memories flooding your mind, all the times he's had you whining, writhing, moaning, biting and clawing at him.. all the times he's had you in tears from how good he is.. all the times he's left you wobbly legged and sore, faint even hours after he was done, dreaming about it and wanting more.. your voice is clearly affected when you speak again "You're so good, baby, no one can match you. Ever. You're the whole package. You're so sweet and caring too, and loving, and supportive. You make me feel so safe, so loved, so confident.." you feel deeply hurt that he makes you feel beautiful and desirable every time yet he's riddled with insecurity and you can't fix it as easily, you don't have to be subjected to seeing women you know on the covers of 'Hottest Guy Alive' magazines and making it to the tops of 'hottest players' lists.. he has to see that. Polls, online discussions, debates, comments, everything from everywhere. Subjected to scrutiny. Criticism. Comments about their bodies and doubts about their fitness levels depending on their shape. It makes you sick. Makes your blood boil. It happens to women, of course, but men rarely get another man defending them. Especially in this field. You want him to see it, want him to know it. So.. you take the best approach you know how: go for his ego. Turn him on. You get closer to him, say softly, "This is strictly off the record and just between us but...", whisper right in his ear, "You're so fucking hot that I'm always soaked around you..." he straightens up, gives you such a heated look.. you keep whispering, looking him in the eyes, "Especially lately... you haven't touched me in so long.. just the other night... I-.." "You what?" you can feel him radiating heat, radiating need..

"You were sleeping naked.. which you rarely do lately and it's really fucking offensive mind you.. but.. the sheet had moved down because you keep tossing and turning lately.. and you were just there.. totally naked... hard.. and I.. fuck, I wanted it so badly.. I've missed you so much.. that I just touched myself imagining all the times that we've woken each other up to have sex.." he scoots closer to you, his eyes are on fire.. "Did you now?" you nod and bite your lip softly, whisper so so quietly "I was completely drenched.. I've.. really missed you... you have no idea how attractive you are.. and the effect that has on me.." he kisses you so roughly. Pulls you to him tightly, his tongue making it's way to stroke against yours, he pulls back and bites your lip, grins when you whine, kisses you deeper, spit and tongues mixing together as you fall back into a pile on the bed. His hands leave a fire in their wake as he pulls your dress off of you in a hurry, you undress him just as hurriedly, albeit rougher than he was, desperate to get him exactly where you need him. It's a need at this point. The same way you need to breath to survive. You need him to survive too. You go insane without his touch. You've been so irritated and on edge lately... he's been so cranky too... because you're both balls of pent up sexual frustration. "You're not fat, not even a bit. The only thing that's fat about you is your co-" he laughs into the kiss he gives you, a light-hearted laugh, and a giddy feeling spreads through your body. He hasn't been this happy in a long while. You love his laugh, you love everything about him. You cling to him as his body sinks into yours, so deep that sparks burst behind your eyelids. It's been enough time since this happened that it's a stretch.. he's.. not the smallest man around, in fact.. "Fucking hell, you're too much, you know that?" he just laughs, low and rough, mixed with a moan right there in your ear, "You've never complained before.. quite the contrary, baby.." he's right. You love the feeling of him. How big he is, how heavy his body is on top of yours, how warm and sturdy he feels too.. he makes you feel caged, but in the most comforting way possible. He's breathing in your ear as he thrusts slowly, it's been a while for him too, he needs to go slow for the sake of both of you. Needs to let both of your bodies adjust again, sink into this feeling, enjoy how good it feels when you're this close. He's missed you like this, under him and so willing.. he's missed your body as badly as he's missed closeness to you. He's such an idiot for going this long without touching and kissing you..

He sinks even deeper as he drops more of his weight on you, you whine loudly and bite on his shoulder, nails digging into his strong arms. A struggling, disbelieving laugh is exhaled from him, he shivers and moans roughly. He doesn't even want to move, just wants to stay right here, exactly like this, forever. He pauses to enjoy the feeling, the warmth, the slickness, the clenching. How soft your skin is. How pliable and tender you are under him. He feels every bit of him touching every bit of you. Suddenly he becomes hyper aware of that. His naked body is touching yours. His stomach... he's taken the biggest dislike to his stomach now... he doesn't have the tight, washboard abs he sees on most guys. He's meatier, always been. It makes him insecure lately. And he's now hyper aware that that fleshiness is touching your body. He recoils at the thought, his body tenses up and you feel it immediately. He starts to pull away but you lock your legs around his hips, pull him back, say desperately, nearly in tears, "No, no no no. Don't. Please don't, I need it so badly. I've missed you. I want you so much, god, I want you so badly. Don't. No, just don't." he pauses, tries to clench his abs so he can make his softness less evident, so it doesn't touch you that closely, and you know he's doing it. You used to do just that at the start. Tried to make your body look and feel more toned. So that he'd love you and he wouldn't find you unattractive. He made you realise that he thinks you're the hottest thing on two legs no matter how you look. So.. "I love your tummy, stop doing that shit." it startles him, he looks down at you and you're starring right into his eyes. You lock gazes and your voice is dripping with need when you speak "You don't realise how fucking amazing it feels.. you don't get that your body is just.. amazing for sex. I want you to press down on me because it.. I can't explain it but it feels so good. Like you're touching me deeper even without touching me. It feels amazing, it's just.. sex with you feels godly. Relax. I want to feel your body, all of you. Because it feels really fucking good from my end and you're robbing me of a really good orgasm if you hold back.. and that is what I might have to leave you over.." he looks unsure for a long moment. You play with his hair, your other hand runs your nails up and down the middle of his back and you feel him shiver, he moans softly.. his lids slide shut.. and you feel it. He starts to relax, little by little, let's all the restraint go and presses down on you.

You can feel every millimetre of him pressed to you. Locking you down against the mattress, overheating your skin. Making you dizzy, skin on fire as he speeds up, sinks so deep that your eyes can't focus and you have to shut them. There's a pounding in your head, your heart is beating so fast that you can feel the veins pulsating in your temples. Every muscle, every tendon, and every bulging vein in his body is palpable to you. You feel the tensing and the relaxing, the tendons stretching and pulling back, you can feel his blood rushing in his veins, his heart beats in sync with yours pressed tightly to your breast. You're only one body in this moment. You feel the tummy pressing into you, putting pressure on your core, something that feels so good and he tried to pull away from you.. nearly robbed you of one thing that drives you wild. You love the look of him, you love the feel of him even more. It makes you desperate, pant for air, makes you shiver and moan, soft and whiny, into his neck. Makes you rise higher and higher as you tighten more and more around him. He's speaking but you can't focus on what he's saying, so lost in your own need that all his whispered words turn into just the hum of his sexy voice in your ear. You can feel it building up at the base of your spine, can almost touch it right at your fingertips. He moves faster, whispering something that sounds so sexy yet you can't make out exactly what it is, and you just crumble under him. Claw his back, bite his shoulder, muffle your garbled whines and moans and fall apart so hard that you feel you're melting all over. You feel him, right there, right along with you too. It feels heavenly, you've missed him so much. You're giggling and crying afterwards, muffled sounds into his shoulder, tears staining his skin as you shake and cling to him. He pulls back, concerned that you're hurt, you look at him and give him a watery smile. "I love you so much." emotion chokes you and he looks affected too "I love you so deeply, I love you.". Tears are running down your face as giggles burst from you. You pull him down into a kiss, melt into him, sigh so relaxed and just hold him tightly. He rolls sideways and takes you with him, holds you close and plays with your hair, kisses your temple as you trace circles on his chest and rub your face all over him like a cat. "Are you okay?" he asks almost a little concerned and you nod, smile up at him, "I missed you.." you're rewarded with a sweet kiss, a soft smile and a caress to your cheek, "I missed you too. I'm really sorry for being a dickhead. I was a fucking idiot, I'm sorry." you nuzzle him and say "I think I can forgive you..." he raises an eyebrow and gives you that look he always does "If..." you sigh.. smile so sweetly.. devil personified.. "If you keep doing that all night.. you know.. to make up for all the times you haven't lately.." he burst into a light laugh and says, a little cocky, "I think I can manage that.." before he's kissing you breathless. It's going to be a long night, but that's exactly what you had been planning for..

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Osamu Miya NSFW Profile

Yandere! Osamu Miya x fem! reader

Warnings: non/dub-con, masturbation, kidnapping, mentions of somnophilia, mentions of nonconsensual voyeurism, exhibitionism, toys, biting, bondage, overstimulation, mentions of crying, fem reader, Osamu is horny as hell, he briefly considers coming in your food, stalking, MDNI

WC: 10.0K

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

HABITS

Osamu has never classified himself as an overly sexual person.

Of course, he’s had his moments; nights of insatiable horniness, his hand or a girlfriend being the only one to bring him the release he’s so desperately craving, his body feeling hot and heavy and frantic to reach orgasm. But even then, his horniness has never been a huge part of his life – more so something he indulges in occasionally. Even with past partners he’s never found himself wanting sex more than once or twice a week, his body simply not needing it.

And for the most part, this has been his life story – however, once you step into the picture, things begin changing. Just as his desire for you in less graphic, more wholesome and pathetic ways multiplies monumentally, the way his body begins desiring you does as well.

It’s not even purposeful; Osamu doesn’t mean to be creepy when he slowly begins noticing the way your body looks in those sweatshirts you always seem to be wearing. He promises he’s not being weird when he sees the way a bit of your tummy is exposed when you stretch, your arms high above your head and your face twisting up into the cutest little pout and fuck, the noise that slips past your lips –

He has to physically pause and breath when this happens, willing himself to not get carried away by thoughts of how you’d sound in bed with him, your pretty moans and cries like music to his ears as he touches and squeezes at you, his thumb rubbing firm circles against your clit and his cock plunging in and out of you so steadily it’s almost filthy. Osamu doesn’t mean to be a pervert when he imagines the way you’d look in your underwear, your cute bras and panties framing your body oh so well, making you look delicious and perfectly soft and supple for him to grab and caress.

He’s shocked by the way you make his body so easily respond; perhaps it’s because he’s been so long without a previous girlfriend (maybe a year or so), or perhaps it’s just because his every waking thought revolves around you. And really, isn’t it only natural for his thoughts to drift off into a more risqué domain? Isn’t it only natural for a young, vital man at the prime of his sexual health to imagine a sweet thing like you underneath him, writhing and grasping at his pillows, begging and pleading for him to give you more, please ‘Samu, more more wanna come so badly please!

He thinks so, and while the influx of sexual thoughts about you makes him nervous at first (too often is he scared he’ll grow hard at the mere sight of you, making it glaringly obvious exactly what’s on his mind), eventually Osamu is giving in and letting it happen.

Because really, what can he do to stop it?

The seeds of his desire for you are already planted, and it’s not like he can stop the roots that slowly take hold in his every thought. It’s alarmingly easy to accept the way his body just needs you now. It’s scarily easy to let himself fuck his fist every night, gasps and wanton groans tumbling from his lips along with slurs of your name, praises and begs for you to clench harder, to go faster, to moan out his name and tell him you want him, that you want his spit and cum and love. It’s just too easy for him to deny, and what’s the harm, really?

Sure, when he’s fucking his pillow or the makeshift pillow he pretends is you, he’s wasting precious cum that should be resting inside that cute cunt of yours, but he’s sure you’ll understand. After all, you must touch yourself with him in mind – why else would you be so flustered around him?

Why else would you be bending down in front of him, biting your lip, twirling your hair, making those sexy fucking sounds that are much too close to being a moan to be a coincidence?

When it comes to actually touching himself, Osamu is versatile. He likes to mix up his methods often, as he believes the key to a good sex life is surprise and trying new things. And so, once he’s got his fingers wrapped around his cock and his eyes fluttering closed, Osamu practices this in the way he imagines you.

His fall back is often to let the warm shower water run over his nude body after work, letting the stress of the day wash away from his tight muscles. He closes his eyes and sighs, wiping down his chest and letting his mind drift back to how cute you were today in his shop; you’d smiled at him, your cheeks plumping up as you laughed at some joke he’d made, your pretty voice making his heart race and the way you’d said his name –

Osamu curses under his breath, the memory of how your tongue caressed the syllables of his name making his throat run dry. Listening to you speak was always a pleasure, but there’s was something about the way you’d said it, something about how breathy and airless it’d been that had Osamu’s hand reaching for the wall, steadying himself against the tiles as he gulped.

It’s easy to let his mind wander to more explicit thoughts of you; the way your shirt hugged your chest just a little too much, the outline of your breasts painfully clear through the material. Osamu hisses under his breath as he imagines reaching out and squeezing, feeling your soft skin under his palms, your hard nipples pressing against his skin. His tongue flicks out to lick at his lips – would you let him lick them? Would you let him run his tongue over your sensitive buds, swirling and teasing, sucking them into his mouth and little nibbling at them, making you keen his name and sigh out?

His fingers trail down his chest, toying with his own nipples as he imagines it, making his cock throb as it grows half hard in mere moments, the affect you have on him making his body respond faster than it ever has before. He lets his eyes flutter open for a moment, staring down as his cock steadily grows darker, the tip turning a bright shade of pink against the wet, matted pubic hair.

He bites his lip as he wonders whether you’d be able to take it – maybe down your throat? Would you let him thrust into your mouth, gasping your name as his tip lodges itself down your throat, twitching and leaking precum as you gag and choke?

He wonders if you you’d let him facefuck you right in this shower, your pretty body kneeling against the wall, letting him rest his hands against the tiles and languidly thrust into your mouth, letting his balls clap against your chin, thick and aching to be drained inside you.

He’s fully hard at this point, images of you with spit, drool and cum dripping down your chin too much for him to ignore. He wonders if your sounds could be heard over the shower water as he lets his hands trail down to his navel, his fingers brushing over his skin and making him hiss. It’s ridiculous how sensitive he already is – how sensitive you’ve made him, how cock practically begging to be surrounded by your warmth, your spit, your little hums and moans of pleasure that shoot straight up his spine.

With a shaky, uneven exhale, Osamu lets his fingers wrap around his length, turning around to face the tiled wall away from the shower stream. He positions his legs wide apart, imagining enough space for your cute little body to kneel down, your mouth the perfect level with his cock. He gives himself a few pumps, hissing through his teeth, before letting one hand press against the wall and lean forward.

It's disturbingly easy to imagine you between his legs, your eyes staring up at him all glossy and needy, your hands running up and down his thighs as you mouth at his cock, desperate to get him in your mouth, wanting to taste him and feel him and swallow him and milk him for every fucking drop of cum he has –

Osamu groans as he lets his hand begin stroking, the motions quick and precise, exactly as he likes it. He flicks his wrist slightly as he pulls upward, the foreskin glistening with the bit of sheen left from the water and his own pre-cum. He closes his eyes, gritting his teeth and feeling the way his thighs tense and clench, his hips jerking forward every once in a while, his imagination running wild with ideas of the way you’d lick and suck at his skin.

His tip is bright red, oozing pre-cum in large droplets, and Osamu curses as he imagines the way you’d moan at the taste, pulling off of him with a popping noise and giving him a few pumps. Fuck ‘Samu, taste so good, wanna make you cum, wanna taste your cum, please…

He loses himself in the fantasy for a few moments, squeezing his eyes shut and letting a shaky smile spread past his lips, his voice interrupted by his own moans. F-fuck yeah baby, shit, make me cum, give ya everythin’ – oh fuck, just like that – gonna give you every fuckin’ drop, gonna stuff you fuckin’ full -!

His voice is gravelly, the pleasure making his head spin, and as he strokes harder and faster, Osamu feels the trace edges of his orgasm approaching. The water beats down on his back, the heat making his muscles flutter, and as he imagines the way he’d slowly lose control, his hips unable to stay still while you bob your head up and down, he snaps. His hand stays still as he jerks his hips forward, thrusting into his hand with reckless abandon, imagining the way you’d gasp against his cock, your throat tightening up impossibly as he uses your mouth for his pleasure, your body to make him feel good.

He cries out your name, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as every muscle in his body tightens, the feeling growing as his balls clench, the warmth spreading, growing larger and larger as he moans and gasps your name, warning you that ‘s coming, take it baby, fuck take it take it! Long ropes of cum shoot from his puffy tip, the off-white splattering against the shower wall, sliding down towards the tub bottom. Osamu’s heaving, ragged breaths slipping past his lips as he leans down, hunched against the wall as he keeps stroking, trying to milk every drop out just like he promised he’d give you, because he knows how much you love his cum.

His shoulders shake as he slowly overstimulates himself, his red cheeks growing even darker as he whispers out praises to imaginary you, the sound of the water nearly drowning out his voice. It feels so good, so fucking good, and as he lets go of his spent cock, Osamu shuts his eyes and turns back to the water, letting it run down his face as he wills himself to stop breathing like he’s just run a marathon.

You’re just too damn good – if you feel this good in his imagination, then how would you feel in real life? How warm, tight, wet would your mouth feel against his skin, your hands carefully groping and massaging at his balls, maybe even letting one slip inside?

Osamu shudders, one last spurt of cum dripping onto the ground below, before smiling shakily.

You’re just perfect, and he can’t wait until he gets to fuck you for real – no more imagination.

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Your thighs

While Osamu would be honest with ever fiber of his being if he were to say that he loves every part of you, he’d be a liar to say that his thighs aren’t his favorite part.

To him, there’s just something so wonderful about the plush expanse of fat; he loves to watch you watch, the little shorts he has you wear leaving nothing to the imagination. Seeing the slight jiggle as you move gets him biting his lip, those steel eyes never leaving your upper legs. He likes seeing the way your skirts brush against the soft skin, all the sizes he buys you just slightly too short to be comfortable, though you both know why he does this.

When you bend over, exposing the curvature of your ass and how it connects to your thighs, Osamu has to stifle a groan, his hand automatically reaching down to cup at his cock as arousal starts flowing through his veins.

There’s just something so soft and supple about them, and really from the beginning of his infatuation with you, many of Osamu’s fantasies revolve around them.

At first, it’s mostly innocent; he wants you to lay on the couch with him, your legs over his knees while you stuff your face with popcorn, the movie on the screen making you laugh – and fuck, do you look pretty while you laugh. He’d spend more time simply staring at your creamy skin below him than watch, though, tracing a finger over the flesh and making you giggle slightly because it tickles.

He wants you to cuddle with him, to wrap your legs around his, letting your plush thighs brush against his own, their warmth and softness driving him crazy and making him kiss all over your face, his heart swelling at the way you try to hide from him.

Eventually, however, Osamu can’t deny the way his fantasies slowly turn more lewd, more risqué, less innocent. He can’t deny the affect your thighs have on him; the idea of spreading them, exposing your twitching hole and your puffy clit makes his throat dry, desire blowing his pupils wide because god, how soft is the skin right below your pussy, your upper thighs?

He can’t deny the prospect of sucking hickeys into the area, feeling the way you squirm underneath him, the thin, sensitive skin so susceptible to that pretty, purple color his lips leave behind. He can’t deny that having your thighs squeeze his head as he eats you out would be enough to get him moaning your name, that you clenching as tightly as you can around his head would him dizzy in the best possible way.

He can’t deny that the idea of you clasping your thighs around his waist as he fucks into you would be enough to bring him to orgasm, the way your muscles would spasm and sporadically clench and unclench enough to get him moaning into your ear, gasping your name as he fucks you harder and harder, pushing you deeper into the mattress as his hips smack against your own.

He just really, really likes your thighs, and he’s not afraid to say it – maybe towards the beginning of his obsession he is, too shy to tell you that your thighs have routinely gotten him hard, but by the time he’s got his tongue shoved down your throat, your breast in his hand, his fingers teasing your aching cunt, he doesn’t mind letting you know.

He doesn’t mind telling you that he’s spent so many nights with his cock in hand, your thighs on his mind as he imagines fucking them, pushing his length between them over and over while you writhe and squirm underneath him, the sight of his cockhead appearing with every thrust driving you crazy with lust.

He’ll tell you he’s thought of coming all over them more times than he can count, smearing the off-white into your skin and telling you how pretty you look, all painted up just for him.

He loves your thighs – they’re the perfect reflection of you. Sweet, soft, sexy as hell, and something he’s thinking of nearly every minute of the day – you just have that effect on him, after all.

His mouth

Osamu’s favorite part of his own body is his mouth. You’ll quickly discover with him that he absolutely loves to use his mouth on you.

There’s something so satisfying about tasting you, feeling the texture of your skin against his tongue, knowing how you sound when he’s licking stirpes up your neck or along your thighs.

He’s always imagining kissing you; he’s spent time daydreaming about what your lips would feel like against his as he rolls rice balls at work, wondering what your tongue must taste like, whether you like rough or soft kisses. He’ll check inventory as he imagines the way you’d moan into his mouth as he kisses you – would you like it if he bit your lip? Just a bit, just enough to be playful, the smallest, smallest edge of pain lighting up through your body?

He’s daydreaming of leaving hickeys along your skin, wondering how you’d react if he were to spell his name out in the dark patches, right along your collarbone or your lower tummy, anywhere that shows his possession over you, that he’s the only one who gets to see your body in such a vulnerable way.

He’s thinking of the way you’d caress his hair and sigh as he sucks on your nipples, mouthing at your tits like some fool in love because god, what would they taste like? He’s constantly plagued with thoughts of how you’d respond to his mouth, whether you’d enjoy the sensations he can bring you, whether you’d like the way his tongue feels against your skin, even if you like the residue of his spit when the cool air hits it, making you shiver.

And so, once he’s got you in his arms, your pretty face mere inches from his own, he’ll put all those theories and questions into action. You’ll find yourself being kissed nearly every minute of the day; anything from heated, French kisses that leave you breathless and wanting more, all the way to chaste pecks against your knuckles when he’s cooking you dinner, telling you that nothing he could ever make would be as sweet as you.

He’ll always be kissing every inch of your body when he’s got you naked underneath him, making sure no area is left untouched before he ravages you and has you seeing stars.

And when he gets to use his tongue on that magical place between your legs, kissing and sucking at your cunt with a reckless abandon?

Well, sometimes you wonder if he eats you out for his own pleasure, not yours – and really, you’re right. He likes to make you feel good, to get you creaming on his tongue so you can be prepared and relaxed for the rest of the session, but really, it’s for him. It’s for him because he loves the way you taste, all musky and natural and irresistible. It’s for him because he likes the texture of your folds against his tongue, all soft and squishy and slick with your cum (and sometimes his, too).

It’s for him because he likes the way you pull at his hair, his tongue making you see stars as you drive your hips up, so close to coming that you can almost taste it.

At any given time, Osamu is more than happy to use his mouth against you – after all, you’re his beloved, and what kind of partner would he be if he wasn’t willing to give you orgasm after orgasm, all because of his tongue and the talented ways he can use it?

Surely, you’re not complaining – how could you be, when he leaves you too fucked out to remember your own name afterwards?

DRIVE: 

Although his libido spikes up monumentally once you step into his life, Osamu is still not that dependent on sex. He likes the idea of being close to you; your bodies touching without an inch of air between you, your mouths working against one another while your tongue brush and suck, to the point where he’s fantasizing about it at least every other day.

But just because Osamu thinks of fucking you routinely, it doesn’t mean that’s the only form of intimacy he craves with you – no, as much as splitting open that cute little cunt with his fat cock makes him light headed and pleasantly dizzy, he’s almost as happy to hold you against his chest, to kiss the crown of your head and whisper little declarations of love against your skin.

He’s almost as satisfied holding your hand, letting his fingers trace yours, comparing the sizes of your palms and chuckling when you ogle at how much bigger his palms are. He just likes physically interacting with you in general, and therefore not everything has to be sexual. He’s just as content spending time with you in romantic, wholesome ways; things that get his cheeks dusting pink, his heart racing in his chest because you’re just too damn cute.

You’re so sweet to him, and particularly at the start of your captivity with him, he’s not very insistent on making things sexual. Of course, he’d never say no if you were to climb on top of him, to cup his cheeks and kiss him until your lungs give out, to grind your hips into his and beg him to make love to you. He’d have to be insane to deny you of that, really, particularly if you were to beg, to look at him with such pouty, full lips, to tell him you’d do anything, that you just wanna feel his cock and how full he can make you feel. Osamu is only a man after all, and one who’s weakness has always been – and will always be – you.

However, he’s content to wait for you, to get your consent before he touches you in any way that’ll make you moan or scream his name, wanting you to enjoy the moment, to like the pleasure he brings you. Plus, he has an active imagination – he can always find something to fantasize about, to tide him over until he can compare just how realistic his fantasies are to reality.

And honestly, that becomes one of his favorite hobbies once his feelings for you form – thinking up scenarios he sees in porn or develops on his own, imagining the way you’d respond.

Would you enjoy being tied up, your pretty wrists and ankles bound by a soft silk, your free movement totally restricted, relying entirely upon Osamu?

Would you moan and whine when he teases you, degrading you for being so needy, for wanting his cock so badly you can hardly stay still?

Would you like to be recorded, your pretty body on camera while he destroys you, rearranging your guts and stuffing you full of his cum as the recording captures every depraved moan, every desperate buck of your hips, every bit of drool that slips past your lips as you whine and moan his name, the way his hips smack into yours simply too much to handle?

He wants to know, fuck he wants to know, but he’s a patient man – he can wait, because doesn’t that make the treat just so much better when he finally gets you naked in front of him? Doesn’t it make it more rewarding when you finally expose that perfect, tight little pussy he knows you have all for his eyes?

He thinks so, so he’ll let you play coy, get comfortable, get needy, until your body can’t take it anymore and you jump him, too desperate for his cock and cum to control yourself.

In the meantime, once you’re in his captivity, Osamu will channel his desires for you in ways that let you know he’s most definitely thinking of you, but don’t require you to actually touch him. He’s so used to regularly touching himself that while it slightly embarrasses him, he doesn’t mind continuing this habit once you’re living under the same roof.

He’ll leave the door cracked open slightly to the bedroom, sitting against the pillows on your shared bed, leaning back and letting his eyes close as he strokes his cock, letting his voice get louder and louder. He’ll moan your name, gasping out praises and encouragements that match whatever fantasy is playing through his mind, all with the hope of not only getting off, but with the goal of having you hear him.

You aren’t in the room, not watching him from the end of the bed, but the condo is only so big – you will be able to hear him, even if you don’t want to. You can hear the way he moans breathlessly, his voice starting off steady and low but eventually climbing to a higher timber, sounding like something out some audio porn.

It’s hot, if you’re being honest, but especially towards the beginning of your captivity, you don’t want it to be.

And when he moans your name?

Well, you can fight it as much as you want, but it’s difficult to ignore the way he sounds so desperate, the pleasure clearly making his voice unsteady, the hoarse quality to it as he nears his orgasm.

You’ll hate how it affects you, how you have to shift your thighs and ignore the way a wetness builds up in your panties, but isn’t it only natural to be that affected by someone sounding so fucking desperate while they moan your name and stroke themselves to the thought of you?

Osamu is shameless, truly, and as he gets more comfortable with doing this, he’ll invest in bottles of lube, anything to make the squelching noise of his fist against his cock louder for you. It sounds so wet, so dirty, so messy, that even if you don’t want to come closer, you’ll find yourself slowly inching closer to the bedroom door, the crack just enough to give you a better show of his self pleasure.

You’ll hear the way he hisses under his breath, how his little gasps and groans are more defined this close up, how the mattress squeaks slightly as he chases his hand with every upwards stroke, trying to keep the flighting sensation of pleasure alight. He’s a sight to see, really, and one day, when the horniness and curiosity are just too much for you to ignore, you’ll take a peek inside, looking through the crack into what may be the dirtiest thing you’ve ever seen.

He’s shirtless, his chest bare and looking perfect to touch, because while he may have lost his defined abs, he’s most definitely attractive – perfect, you might even find yourself saying. He’s wearing gray sweatpants, the waistline pulled down enough to release his cock and balls, the pale skin flushed bright red as he works himself towards orgasm. His hand is quick, nearly to fast to see, and suddenly the intensity of the squelching noises makes sense.

You can see lube and precum shining on his skin, the light from the overhead appliance doing nothing to hide how messy it all is. His mouth hangs open, lips parted as he breaths raggedly, gasps and groans slipping out as he cries out your name in between moans.

He’s shaking, his thighs and biceps tensing periodically, his hips jerking and spasming, and you can’t help the way your fingers reach down, between your panties and shorts, brushing against your clit – which is already much, much more sensitive than you’d realized. You’re quick to rub harsh, frantic circles against the bud, your arousal peaking, watching with wide eyes as he loses himself, his cries of your name sounding shrill and higher, growing in volume until he’s coming, ropes of cum shooting up onto his chest as he whines your name.

You think you even see a tear falling down his cheek, the intensity of his orgasm just too fucking much.

You watch for a few more moments, eyes fixated on the way his cum oozes down his chest, and somewhere in the back of your mind you idly wonder what it tastes like – surely, a man with such a good diet would have a decent taste…

You shake yourself out of it, ripping your hands out of your panties as he opens his eyes and makes direct eye contact with you, his cheeks flushing an even darker shade of red, your legs carrying you away as fast as you can.

You don’t see it, too busy locking yourself in the bathroom and trying to calm your racing heart, but Osamu can’t help but swallow and grin, reliving the way he’d watched your hand come out of your panties, you obviously touching yourself while watching him…

He’s sure it won’t be long until you’re ready to actually fuck him, until you’re ready to give him everything, just as he’s ready to give you everything in return.

MAIN KINKS:

BODY WORSHIP

Generally, Osamu finds you beautiful. He’s known for a very, very long time that you’re his ideal woman; your hair color, texture, eye color, body type, every asset you possess. There’s not a thing about you that he wishes to change, and while you may find this hard to believe, Osamu needs you to understand that he’s being honest.

He hates the idea of you being insecure about anything on your beautiful body, and so he makes it his mission in the bedroom to convince you of his honesty, to convince you that he’s genuinely in love with everything about you.

And to do this, what better way than to start every intimacy session with a slow, vulnerable, intense series of kisses against every body part of yours, his eyes never leaving your own?

He’ll always start with your lips – pressing kisses against them, his tongue coming out to play with yours as he groans into it, sighing heavily and getting comfortable as he situates himself above you on the bed. He loves pulling away afterwards, your lips all swollen and puffy, your eyes glassy as they stare up at him, breaths tumbling out of you because wow, Osamu is a good kisser.

(You don’t need to know how often he stayed up in the night practicing on his hand before he had you – he’s kissed plenty of people before, sure, but he wanted to be perfect for you.)

He’ll  tell you that yer so pretty babe, love the way yer lips taste. He’s already breathless as he says this, his voice husky and just barely above a whisper. It feels like a secret he’s telling you; like it’s something only the two of you get to know, like he’s trusting you with something important that you shouldn’t squander. He’ll press kisses against your cheeks and forehead, smiling against your skin as he tells you that he loves the way your skin is so soft, how your cheeks are so cute ‘n squishy, wanna pinch ‘em every time I see ya, cutie.

He’ll move down onto your neck, licking along your jugular and leaving slight hickies, feeling the way you squirm slightly under him, the embarrassment of such personal attention making you antsy. He loves it, and as he moans against your neck, he’ll make sure you feel how he’s affected by rutting his clothed crotch against your hip, his boxers doing very little to hide the prominent bulge trapped beneath them.

He’ll press kisses into your collarbones, using a finger to trace their shape as he smiles up at you from under his lashes, licking his lips as he tells you this is my favorite spot to mark ya up, y’know. Love it when yer all purple here, makes sure everyone knows yer mine. Of course, no one will ever see your collarbone but him, but there’s something about the possessive lilt of his voice that gets shivers running down your spine, straight to your cunt.

He’s already got you stripped naked, and as he moves down and cups your breasts with his hands, you see the way his cheeks light up, a dusting of bright red smattering across the bridge of his nose. Fuck, yer perfect baby, so fuckin’ pretty… ya feel how hard yer making me? It’s all for ya, ‘m so hard because yer just too damn sexy. He grinds against your leg again to prove his point, his fingers massaging at your breasts, and you gulp, moaning slightly at the treatment.

He smirks and leans down to capture your nipples into his mouth, feeling the way they harden up as he blows his breath against them, licking and sucking against the sensitive skin. He moans against your skin, moving his head to your sternum and vigorously shaking it, his silvery hair looking like moonlight as you whine and cover your face, too embarrassed to watch.

This makes Osamu smile, and as he leans up again and presses his lips against yours in a quick kiss, he can’t help but chuckle. Been wantin’ to do that for so long, baby, dreamed about it every night for a month straight, these pretty tits in my face, in my mouth, ‘round my cock…

He trails off, his hands coming down to press against your stomach. Love this tummy babe, so pretty when yer all full – full of my food, he kisses right underneath your left breast. Full of my love, a matching kiss under your right. Full of my cum, right where it should be. He finishes with a long lick from your sternum down to your bellow button, blowing a raspberry against it while you giggle and squirm.

He smiles and laughs too, the sound of your voice making him grow impossibly harder. He spreads your legs slightly, looking up at you from his place between them, moving so that his head is merely inches away from your pussy.

He kisses up your knees and the insides of your thighs, moaning against your skin as he palms himself through his boxers. Ya get me so excited, love, this pussy’s so fuckin’ cute, could make me cum just from lookin’ at it. He closes his eyes and presses his nose against your folds, making you jump slightly. He groans, deeply, before growling out in a voice much deeper and gravelly than before how he could cum just from smellin’ it, fuuuck.

And soon, his tongue is working at your clit, his eyes never leaving yours even as you bite your lip and try to look away, too embarrassed to keep eye contact. He’s groaning and telling you how fucking good you taste, how it’s exactly how I imagined baby, tastes like heaven, never wanna stop eaten’ this cunt. So wet for me, fuck do I make ya this wet?

He loves the way you babble out a whiny yes, letting your hands thread through his hair as he eats you out, suctioning at your clit while his fingers press against that spongey spot inside of you, curling and scissoring them as he humps the best, rambling on about the way you make him so hard, so horny, so needy. He tells you it’s all your fault, that your body’s just too perfect, too warm and welcoming, how you should be ashamed of how sexy you are.

He just loves you, really, and as he lines himself up to finally, finally fuck you, he can’t help but moan that he loves you,  pushing inside slowly and telling you that you feel so damn good, fuuuuck ‘m not gonna last baby, oh fuckfuckfuck –

Osamu really, really loves your body, and he’s not shy about telling you – plus, there’s something about the embarrassment on your face when he does this that makes him that much more desperate to fuck you, that much more desperate to stuff you so full of his cum that you’re leaking it for days.

ORAL FIXATION

Osamu has always been a fan of oral.

Even before you walked into his life, there was a part of him that preferred good head over actual fucking any day of the week – he can’t explain, but he likes how personal it is, how intimate and vulnerable it is to have someone’s mouth working at him, to have his own mouth working at someone else.

He just enjoys it, the warmth of tongues and spit, and once you step into his world? Well, he without a doubt absolutely wants to fuck you – he wants to fuck you so hard that you’re crying, that big tears are welling down your cheeks, that you’re too spaced out to even remember where you are, who you are, anything but his name and his cock. Obviously he wants to feel your cute, tight little pussy wrapped around him, but just as he’s always fantasized about head, this fixation only grows worse once you’re in the picture, the idea of you worshipping his body making him light headed, his pants already growing tight.

Because really, there’s something about the attention you’d be giving him that makes him feel shaky, his heart racing in his chest, his throat going dry because wow, would you really be willing to take him into your mouth? Would you be willing to get on our knees for him, to stroke him and drool on him, to let him stretch out that throat of yours and cum down your throat?

Osamu loses his cool merely thinking about it, and so the first time you actually move to take him into your mouth, he nearly passes out. There’s just something so intimate about the way you bite your lip and tell him that you want to taste him. There’s just something so sinful about the way you shimmy up between his legs as he sits perched on the couch, his legs spread wide while his cock bobs with every small movement he makes.

It’s twitching, pre-cum already dribbling from his engorged slit, and he can’t take his off of the way you lick your lips, moving impossibly closer so that your lips are merely inches away from him. He throws his head back in ecstasy the first time you kitten lick at him, groans tumbling from his lips as you suck on his head, your tongue slipping along his slit, dipping in slightly and making his hands latch onto your head, pulling ever so slightly at your hair.

He just loses himself when your mouth is on him; he’s moaning and whining out your name, praises, telling you how good you’re doing, how he’s never felt so good, how you’re going to make him come so fast, too fast. It's euphoric, and as he gets closer, he’ll start unconsciously bucking his hips, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed so tightly shut while his mouth hangs open, stuttered breaths and ragged moans free falling.

He’ll push your head down without meaning to, the pleasure just feeling so good that he needs more more more, and to feel the way you gag and whine around him makes Osamu’s gut clench, his orgasm hurdling towards him even faster.

His toes curl, his abdominal muscles flexing, and a non-stop stream of your name is spilling past his lips, the words slurring together as he begs you to keep going, begging you to not stop, fuck baby please – pleasepleasepleaseplease ‘m gonna cum, gonna cum for ya oh baby fuck-

He’s always brought over the edge if you play with his balls; your soft fingers toying at the extremely sensitive flesh, squeezing lightly and mouthing at them, running patterns over them with your tongue and letting one slip into your mouth to suckle, moaning around him and making his hips jerk near violently.

He insists that he always cum either down your throat, on your face or on your tits, sometimes all three. He’ll watch with lidded eyes and heavy breaths as his cum splatters across your breasts, the off-white rolling down over your nipples and dripping onto your thighs below, the sensation of the warm cum oozing down your body making you shiver. He’s mesmerized by the sight, his chest falling and rising so rapidly he almost looks like he may pass out.

He’s too lost in the post-orgasm glow to move after you finish sucking him off, and it’s only once you press a kiss to his lips that he snaps out of his haze, tasting himself on you and making his mind race.

He always wants to return the favor, to get between your legs and make you cry out his name, to get you coming over and over on his tongue, even to get you squirting; that’s always his goal, and whether or not he’s been successful doesn’t deter him. He wants to taste just as badly as he wants you to taste him, so you’d better get used to frequent and persistent head from Osamu – he’s just expressing his love, after all.

He loves you, loves the way you taste, the way you pull on his hair and cry out his name, how your hips buck and twitch as he brings you closer and closer, how you let out that cute little gasp if his fingers dip down to brush against your asshole, so taboo and strange.

Osamu just really, really likes using both his and your mouth in the bedroom, so hopefully you’re a fan of oral – and if not, you will be by the time he’s down with you. He’ll make sure of it.

BONDAGE

While Osamu enjoys wandering hands during sex, he’s equally as turned on by the prospect of restraints. There’s something undeniably hot about tying you up, or being tied up during your intimacy, and while he won’t be the first to bring it up, if you were to ever express interest he’d immediately jump you.

From the moment his sexual urges towards you formed, Osamu has been on the lookout for as many different kinds of sexual restraints as he can – he has a collection, one he keeps hidden from you until you express said interest. He doesn’t want you to find out, if only because he’s scared you’ll think it’s weird, that you’ll be turned off by the idea of being tied up, completely at his mercy. He’s got everything from handcuffs, silk ties, embroidery rope, and everything in between – he can utilize anything you want, whatever fits your particular fantasies.

(Although, his personal favorites are the silk ties, only because it’s softer on your skin and he thinks their softness matches you perfectly. He’s got all kinds of pastels, and he’ll always choose the color that looks best against your skin, making you look like a cute little gift for him to unwrap and fuck.)

It’s the protective instincts within him that really fuel this kink; he likes the idea of you giving yourself up to him, trusting him with not only your pleasure and ability to orgasm, but also with your physical movements, making you entirely at his mercy.

He likes the rush of power he gets from this, and while he has no intentions of leaving you or hurting you in any way, there’s something about the knowledge that he could that gets his cock hard, that gets him breathing heavy, that gets his hands itching at his sides to touch you. He finds that he particularly likes to tie your wrists and ankles to the bed, leaving you spread out in an almost star position, your breasts and pussy perfectly exposed.

You look up at him with such vulnerability, biting your lip and watching his every move that it almost makes him nervous, almost insecure, almost unsure. But then he’s touching you and you’re moaning his name, your pussy sucking in his fingers as if they belong there, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. It’s all so good, enough to get him biting his lip and struggling to not just ram his cock into you and fuck you until he’s spilling everything inside you, but he holds himself back.

After all, when he’s got you tied up like this, he has all the power; he can do whatever he wants to you, whenever he wants to. He could leave you with a vibrator against your cute little clit for hours, get you squirming and begging, a pool of cum sitting below your pelvis as you weakly jerk back and forth, the vibrations from the toy making your brain fuzzy.

He could lick and suck at your pussy, kissing your clit and fingering you until you’re right on the edge of orgasm, so fucking close until he suddenly stops, the pleasure fading as you whine and beg him to keep going, telling him you need more, need him.

He could straddle your tummy, pushing your breasts together as he thrusts between them, fucking your tits while he groans and throws his head back, the sight erotic for you but not giving you nearly as much pleasure as you want.

The possibilities are endless, and while he’s not cruel enough to do most of those ideas to you in real life, Osamu does enjoy the way you become dependent on him to make you orgasm. He likes to hear the way you beg him, how your voice breaks slightly as you get closer, your wrists tugging against the restraints as you close your eyes and moan, your lips permanently parted into that pretty ‘o’ shape.

He likes to watch you come undone, asking you if you need it baby? Need me to make ya come, huh? He wants to hear you screaming yes and his name, slurred together as he makes you come again and again and again, because this is what you wanted, right? To feel good?

And if you were to ever express interest in tying him up, Osamu would gladly do it. He wouldn’t until quite late into your captivity with him, until he knows that you wouldn’t take the opportunity to run, but once he feels comfortable, he can’t deny the euphoric feeling of you hovering over him, your lips quirking up into a smile as you tell him how cute he looks, all tied up and begging for you.

He wants you to tease him, to make his cock flush pink and leak, to get him moaning and twisting at the restrains, to have his hips desperately bucking up, chasing your hand as you oh so fucking slowly stroke him. He likes the way you have control, how you’re giving him so much attention, sprinkling in praises of how proud you are of him, how well he’s taking it, how he’s such a pretty boy underneath you like this.

He wants you to overstimulate him, to get him crying, and once you untie him he’ll scoop you into his arms, cuddling you against his chest and whispering to you that he loves you.

He’ll spend the rest of the night by your side, not letting you out of his embrace for even a moment, because now that he feels so close to you, how could he possibly let go? You’re perfect, after all, and you only get more perfect when you’re all tied up for him, all needy and helpless and his.

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

FACESITTING

Going hand in hand with his oral fixation, Osamu quickly finds that although he’s never done it with a woman before you, he absolutely adores having you sit on his face.

There’s something so trusting and intimate about it that makes him absolutely crazy; you trust him enough to let yourself be vulnerable on top of him, your thighs caging in his head and your pretty pussy at the perfect angle for him to ravage and destroy.

It’s so, so fucking hot, and from essentially your first few sexual encounters, Osamu will be somewhat shyly bringing it up, oddly scared that you’ll reject this fantasy of his. He’s always been too nervous to try it before, but with you, it feels like the ultimate form of worship. Like by doing it, he’s treating you the way you deserve – making sure everything is about you, that you’re enjoying yourself, that you’re finding the pleasure you deserve to feel.

And so, when you shakily agree to his plan, Osamu can’t help the way a giant grin splits across his face, excitement brewing in his veins as he strips off his clothing, practically throwing himself on the bed and wetting his lips, staring at you expectantly. Even if you try to tell him that you don’t want to crush him, that you’re worried you’ll break him or that you’ll look ugly from that angle, he’s having none of it. With every negative word that comes out of your mouth, he’s keeping count and telling you he’ll make you come that many times, that you’ve said you’ll crush me five times now baby, guess ‘m gonna have to make you cream five times, maybe you’ll even squirt for me, eh?

He’s quick to adjust you so that you’re fully sitting on him, slapping your hip harshly and telling you to just let go, to let your full weight drop on him, and if you were to look behind you, you’d see the way his hips buck up once you do as exactly as he says. He loves the way you suffocate him, how everything he can breathe, feel and taste is pussy, your pussy, his favorite thing on Earth.

And as he gets working, running his tongue along your folds and rubbing at your clit in figure eight motions, he finds that you’re so much more sensitive this way; he can see the way your tummy bulges out, your breasts looking tantalizing above his head, the angle he sees you at so strange yet so fucking hot.

It’s a wet dream come true, and as he encourages you to grind against his face, he can only squeeze his eyes shut and will himself not to cum, because the sensory overload is just too much. He’ll use his free hand so slap your ass, and if you were to reach behind you and toy with his cock, stroking or even squeezing it?

Well, don’t be surprised when a splatter of warm wetness hits your back, the moan he lets out downright sinful against your sensitive folds. He just really, really likes having you sit on his face, and he could leave you there for hours, idly nibbling on you and drinking up every last drop of slick you can offer him.

It’s heaven.

BITING

Osamu, in general, doesn’t like causing you pain. He’s not particularly interested in anything in the bedroom that could hurt you; he doesn’t want to see you bleeding or crying in anything other than pleasure, and for the most part he stays far away from anything like that, even if you beg him to try it.

However, the one thing he eventually relents and gives into trying if you bring it up is biting. Maybe it’s because it’s less inherently violent than slapping you around, than drawing a knife to your skin, or maybe it’s because there’s something so feral about it, so animalistic and natural.

He’s not sure, but the first time he lightly sinks his teeth against your flesh, an audible groan slips past his lips. There’s something so primal about it, like he’s staking his claim on you in the most basic, human way possible – leaving his teeth marks on your soft skin. He never bites hard enough to break the skin or leave any scars, but Osamu doesn’t mind; it’s about the heat of the moment, claiming you as his.

You're his lover, his woman, his to love and touch and fuck and cherish. And so, once this habit begins forming, Osamu takes nearly every opportunity he can to lightly bite you in the bedroom; when you’re throwing your head back and moaning as he thrusts into you, he’s sinking his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder, moaning against your skin as he licks and sucks at the area trapped between his jaws.

When your face is pressed into the mattress, your ass high in the air as he gropes and squeezes at it, he’s biting into the suppleness of your cheeks, making you squirm and moan into the pillow as he reaches under to rub fast circles at your clit.

He’ll even lightly bite at your nipples and breasts, paying extra care to not hurt you, but knowing that when you ride him, your tits are right fucking there, and how can he deny himself?

It’s something he never thought he’d see himself doing, but it just feels so right – and god, when you return the favor? When you sink your own teeth into his skin, biting down and claiming him as yours? Fuck, Osamu feels like he’s in heaven, the sensation of very slight pain making his cock stir inside of you, twitching and that much closer to filling you up with his seed.

He just likes the idea that you want to mark him back, that you consider him yours as he considers you his, and he’ll let you bite as hard as you want. He’s strong, he can take anything you give him, so please – bite him as much as you like, as hard as you like, as often as you like. He’ll enjoy it, he promises.

BIGGEST FANTASY:

When it comes to fantasies, Osamu is game to try pretty much anything you’d like to. His only hard and fast rules are no hurting you, and nothing that involves extreme humiliation. In that respect, he’s not especially harsh in the bedroom, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t willing to be in a more dominant position, to get you squirming and crying out his name.

No, in fact that’s what he loves most – seeing you turn into a shaking, desperate mess right before his very eyes, all because of what he’s done to your body. As a result, Osamu quickly learns that one of the things he loves to do with you is to overstimulate you.

There’s something beautiful about the way you shake and writhe, how your eyes squeeze closed as the pleasure doesn’t let up, even after you’ve come and your body cries out for relief. He thinks you look so pretty as you beg him to stop, that you’re too sensitive, that you can’t take it because it’s too – too much ‘Samu, I can’t!

He’ll always shush you, kissing you and smothering your cries with his lips and tongue, still rubbing those circles against your clit that have you spasming below him. He likes pushing you to the brink as many times as he can, and while he enjoys the rush of power that comes from knowing he’s the one that’s driven you so crazy, the root of this fantasy is his protectiveness. He likes the idea of taking care of you, and this carries over into the bedroom as well – there’s something so romantic about making you come, about watching you fall apart just for him, your body trembling and your face twisting up into that pretty expression you make when you’re coming.

It’s addictive, really, so much so that Osamu is willing to swallow his pride and invest in something that’ll make getting you off much, much easier. That is, while he doesn’t inherently have any problems with toys, there’s a certain piece of his pride that’s lost when he buys the vibrator. There’s some part of him that wonders whether his mouth, fingers and cock aren’t enough, whether you need this stupid toy to feel good.

He’s hesitant to first use it, worried that you’ll enjoy the silicone more than his own touch, but the moment he presses the vibrations against your body, he can’t find it in himself to care – you’re gasping and clawing at his chest, the overstimulation hitting your body in waves because you just fucking came on his tongue.

You’re incoherent, babbling and trying to string words together that have no meaning, and Osamu can only watch with wide eyes, his lips parted and drool threatening to spill out because fuck, you’re so hot like this. You’re falling apart right before his eyes, the pleasure almost hurting because it’s too intense, but Osamu can’t find it in himself to care – especially not when you’re coming again a few minutes later, tears streaming down your cheeks as he keeps the toy over your clit, the vibrations never ending even as your body threatens to give out.

It’s just so goddamn hot, and Osamu knows that buying the toy was a good choice – you’ll never like it more than himself, he’s sure, but it gets the job done, and at the end of the day as long as you’ve come more times than he can count, isn’t that all that matters?

“Feel good, baby?” Osamu asks, his voice husky as he leans down to lick at your clit again. You warble something out, an affirmation to his question that makes him growl and work harder at your nub, his fingers pumping at a steady pace inside of you. They’re callused, years of volleyball and cooking making them steady, precise, the texture feeling like heaven against your gooey, spongey walls.

Osamu groans, letting the vibrations roll against your sensitive skin. You jerk slightly at that, the stimulation to your clit making your head dizzy, but the building pleasure in your navel distracts you. With a sharp gasp, you’re whining out his name, “O-osamu, please ‘m gonna come! Don’t stop, oh fuck please don’t stop!”

Your cries motivate him, his eyes staring up at you as he watches your lips part, wanton moans falling past them as you twitch around his fingers, your walls clenching like wild, even your clit seeming to throb under his tongue. He uses his free hand to reach up and grope at your breasts, squeezing the flesh and pinching at your nipples, anything to give you that extra stimulation he knows will having you falling off the edge.

And, a few seconds later, you do – with a heavenly cry of his name, all broken up by your own moans and gasps, your walls fluttering around his fingers as he keeps up the pace. You’re shaking, chanting his name like a prayer and threading your fingers through his short hair. Closing your eyes and hoping to recover your breath, your brows squeeze together at the sound of something buzzing.

“’Samu, what are you – oh!” You cut yourself off with a cry, your hips jerking upwards as Osamu places the baby blue toy against your bundle of nerves. Your body lights up, the pleasure seeming to pierce through you as Osamu continues to finger you, his gray eyes watching with hazy lust as you lose your mind.

“Too much! Oh fuck – fuck, shit, ‘Samu I can’t – too sensitive -!” It’s hard to make out what you’re saying over the sound of your own moans, the pressure building in your stomach seeming to ebb and flow as the vibrations destroy your clit. It’s too much, truly – you feel an overload of pleasure, the onslaught to much to even process.

“Fuck princess, ya look so hot like this, gonna make me cum.” Osamu groans, letting his head fall against your thigh as he removes his fingers, licking at your cum and cleaning them dry. A strangled moan falls past his lips at your taste, and as he shifts himself to sit up, he keeps the toy pressed firmly against your cunt. You’re crying, he thinks, your eyes tearing up as you moan and writhe, and though he worries for a moment that this hurts you more than pleasures you, your little cries of ‘s-so good’ have him grunting instead.

He changes the vibration pattern on the toy, now a steady throb-throb-throb that has your abdominal muscles visibly clenches, the pleasure driving you crazy with need. He’s mesmorized, watching like a child on Christmas as your lips part and get caught between your teeth, your body and face absolutely wrecked.

It’s not long before you’re slowly getting close again, your body tensing up and your muscles contracting, and Osamu watches with baited breath as you scream his name, your body winding up as your second orgasm hits you, much more explosive than your first. More slick oozes from your hole, visibly contracting and making his mouth water. He can’t wait anymore – he’s been a fucking saint so far, holding back in favor of making you feel good, but at the way you’re grasping at the pillows behind your head, your tits bouncing as you shake and tremble, Osamu’s lunging forward.

He's quick to align his cock with your cunt, already dripping pre-cum and desperate to feel you. He groans deeply as he slides inside, his voice cracking as he moans out, “So – so fucking tight baby, how’rya this fucking tight Jesus –“

You cut him off with a gasp of your own, the feeling of something so big stretching you out in the midst of your pleasure making tears slip down your cheeks. He’s still holding the vibrator over your clit, and you almost can’t feel it anymore, the sensation so strong. You claw at his shoulders, bringing him down for a kiss that he eagerly reciprocates as he beings thrusting into you. You’re so wet like this; wet and tight and fucking warm, and Osamu swears as he pulls back from the kiss, his own orgasm approaching embarrassingly quickly.

He whines as he fucks into you, his face red while sweat drips at his temples, and though you’re nearly too fucked out to notice, Osamu gasps your name as he comes, sending spurts of hot, potent cum directly inside you. The sensation of his orgasm and the vibrations together send you over the edge, your final climax of the night as you scream his name and go limp, the pleasure making black spots dance along the edges of your vision.

Your body jerks as he turns the vibrator off, your skin clammy and sweaty as you stare unseeingly up at the ceiling, trying desperately to catch your breath. Osamu’s equally as breathless, scooping you into his arms as he holds you, kissing you and running his hand over your hair, whispering how well you did.

You’re too fucked out to listen, of course, but as Osamu holds you against his chest and coos at you, trying to recover from what may have been the best orgasm of his life, he can’t help but laugh a bit. You’re perfect, truly, and your pleasure ridden expression at the height of your orgasm just proves it.

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

Valentine's Day (2) Masterlist

part one

Hearts, Chlorine and Valentine Lovers (ao3) - ethereal_larry (ttmngx) luke/ashton G, 2k

Summary: Luke's body was bubbling with anticipation. It flooded his mind and pumped through his veins. Every single cell forming his brain was full of excitement. He wasn't really sure of how much more he was able to wait for anything. It was his favourite time of the year.

He liked summer February in Australia.

He loved Saturdays more than his brothers.

And he completely, undeniably adored Valentine's Day.

I Hate Valentine’s Day (ao3) - HeartbreakAshton94 calum/ashton M, 450

Summary: Inspired by Calum’s comment in cocktail chats “Valentine’s Day is probably my most hated day of the year”

"I have a surprise for you." (ao3) - destiel_lemmings michael/luke N/R, 2k

Summary: It's been roughly around eight months since Jace has been born. It's Michael's and Luke's first Valentines day together and Michael's has forgotten, but not Luke. The kitten boy feels bad about forgetting but maybe he has a surprise for Luke too.

just to see you smile (ao3) - everythingididntsay michael/luke G, 344

Summary: "– attention all patrons! as a regular customer of this splendid cafe, i thought i would pay tribute to the owners of this wonderful establishment and brighten up your afternoons with a little light entertainment on this special day."

michael serenades luke.

Man, I feel like mold (ao3) - maiamaryse michael/luke N/R, 2k

Summary: Missing fourth period to chase a giant pink bunny around the sports field is not the way he'd predicted to spend valentines day.

My First Kiss Went A Little Like This (ao3) - orphan_account calum/ashton N/R, 914

Summary: Just read it if you want.

My World Is You (ao3) - LyricalPary (hoseoky) luke/ashton G, 2k

Summary: Ashton wakes up to soft lips against his skin, a fluttery feeling in his tummy, and the familiar warmth of a body pressed against his own. That body belongs to the one person that he loves more than anything else and always will, so it's only natural that he smiles and turns over to greet them. The morning sun shining through the bedroom curtains makes it a little harder to see, but when his eyes finally focus on what's in front of him, Ashton finds himself staring into a sea of blue.

He falls in love all over again.

Push and Pull (ao3) - digginginyourheart ot4 M, 30k

Summary: Pretty basic ot4 5sos soulmate/college au. In which Michael and Luke have been friends for years and on Luke's 18th birthday find out that they're soulmates, but both also have two other sets of initials on their wrists. Calum and Ashton are also dating and each have three sets of initials on their wrists. They all meet at uni and fall in love.

rebuild, restart (right where we are) (ao3) - bellawritess luke/calum T, 3k

Summary: To: Calum From: Your Secret Admirer I’d trust you with my heart, Valentine.

Calum blinks at it. Blinks at the picture on the card, of a circular contraption of some kind that reads ‘PROOF THAT TONY STARK HAS A HEART’. So it’s a Marvel-related valentine. For Calum. From a secret admirer.

“Luke,” Calum says, pushing out his rolly chair to speak to Luke in the next cubicle over, “can you tell me what the fuck this means?”

the future with you - @sup3rbloom (haveufoundwhaturlookingfor) michael/ashton T, 2k

Summary: Ashton and Michael have a disagreement when Valentine's Day is just around the corner. Ashton and Michael have never fought in the six years that they've been together. It's a horrible time for everyone involved.

Th3 Ones (ao3) - im_just_a_sucker_for_bromance michael/luke, michael/calum, michael/ashton E, 9k

Summary: It was Valentine’s Day and like many others, Michael did not celebrate because he believed Love should be celebrated every day, all year round. However, that was not the only reason; Michael also did not celebrate that day because he did not know with whom to celebrate it. It was not because he did not have anyone but it was because he had given his heart to more than one person and he did not want to make just one feel special.

Warm On A Cold Night (ao3) - LyricalPary (hoseoky) luke/ashton T, 6k

Summary: In retrospect, Luke probably shouldn’t have offered to give Ashton a ride. He knows that now, thanks to the awkward silence and the nerves in the pit of his belly. But at the same time, what was he supposed to do? Leave Ashton standing out there in the harsh cold of winter? Of course not. Good people don’t do such things, and Luke likes to think of himself as a fairly good guy.

(Or, Luke and Ashton get stuck during a snow storm. But, maybe it's not as terrible as it seems.)

[glazesunflower]

Insecurities They Wouldn’t Tell You They Have

Characters: Shenhe, Ganyu, Ei, Ayaka, Kazuha, Beidou, Eula and Hu Tao.

Warnings: Mentions of scars, body image and self esteem issues.

Notes: Not requested, just something I wanted to write because I’m very soft for them and they’re allowed to be flawed <3

Shenhe’s insecurity is her scars. She has scars all over her hands from practicing with her polearm, her arms from fighting monsters, her face from when she was a child and her father abandoned her in that cave with that half-god, half-beast she fought to death. When you hold Shenhe’s face in your hands, she hopes her scars are not unpleasant to look at, that you don’t feel scared or repulsed by them. She doesn’t voice this, but something in the way you so tenderly kiss the scar on her eyebrow, the one under her eye, the scar on her chin, tells her that she doesn’t have anything to worry about.

.

Ganyu has many insecurities, but the one that causes her the most anxiety is her tummy. Or her weight, in general, would be more accurate to say. Ganyu puts on weight fairly quickly and she has been painfully aware ever since she can remember. She always carefully plans all of her meals, always making sure she doesn’t exceed herself, but were she to put on some weight by any chance, Ganyu dearly hopes you don’t really mind. She’s never voiced these thoughts, but you know her like the palm of your hand, so whenever you’re lazily lying in bed together, you wrap your arms around her waist and press soft kisses to her belly. Ganyu immediately flushes red and asks you to stop with a quiet voice, but you giggle and keep leaving soft kisses on every inch of skin your lips can reach, because that’s how endlessly beautiful Ganyu is to you.

.

Ei’s insecurity is her lack of knowledge of modern things. She’s well-versed in all the fighting techniques across Inazuma, well-read with the knowledge of thousands of years of history, but when it comes to simple and modern things like Taking a picture, or Drinking boba tea, she’s at a loss for words. Ei hopes you don’t mind explaining things to her. She very much enjoys taking a stroll with you through the streets of Inazuma, even more so when every outing with you turns into a learning experience, and you’re always so patient with her. Ei is really grateful to you.

.

Ayaka’s main insecurity is her inexperience when it comes to matters of the heart. She’s never been one to have that many friends, simply because she hasn’t had the opportunity to. Having a lover, however, seems like an even bigger challenge for which she has little preparation. Ayaka gets flustered by the tiniest of things. A heartfelt compliment, a brush of your hands together while walking, your hand pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Ayaka is quick to hide her flushed expression with her fan, and she can’t even fathom what it will be like when you give her her first kiss! She’s excited, but also endlessly nervous, so she hopes it’s okay with you to take things slow for now <3

.

Kazuha is his lack of possessions. As a wanderer, he’s never really cared for earthly possessions. All he ever needs is a clear sky above his head and the endless and vast world around him to explore. But ever since you came into his life and swept him off his feet, Kazuha has been thinking. He wants to build a life with you, but he has nothing to offer. His clan, once proud and wealthy, vanished with him being the only one alive, and he left that life to pursue his dream of exploring the world. He hopes you don’t mind what little he has, for his love for you is as vast as the sky above.

.

Beidou’s insecurity is the fact that she’s always out at sea. Don’t get her wrong, it’s the life she chose for herself and one that she adores profoundly. She wouldn’t change herself or her lifestyle, she doesn’t think she can live anchored to the same place every day of her life. Still, you’re always her reason to come back to land. In you, Beidou has found the home she can always return to. She doesn’t regret a thing, but she hopes you don’t get tired and leave her for someone who never leaves the land.

.

Eula’s biggest insecurity and burden to bear is her noble upbringing. She’s a Lawrence, but she wishes you could see beyond that title that doesn’t represent her anymore. Everybody in Mondstadt casts her away or has some reservations when interacting with her, and her hardened exterior and cold behavior doesn’t help her case, but still Eula wishes that people could see past her last name, at least when it comes to you. She would hate to hear the people of Mondstadt speaking ill of you. Still, you’ve reassured her time and time again, her hands on yours, warmer, that you love her for her, and your feelings are nothing that any last name nor the people of Mondstadt could ever change. Eula won’t admit this out loud, but she’s never felt more welcomed than she does when she’s wrapped in your arms.

.

Hu Tao’s biggest thing she’s proud of but also her biggest insecurity is her playful behavior, her ability to see the fun in everything. She’s been forced to grow up fast the moment her grandfather wasn’t around to coddle her, and her sunny and cheerful personality is what has given her the strength to move forward and strive for bettering the business her grandfather entrusted her with. Still, in the eyes of the people of Liyue, Hu Tao is nothing more than a nuisance, someone who doesn’t take serious matter to heart, and thus they often cast her away. Hu Tao is nothing other than cheerful and cheeky around you, but inside she dearly hopes you won’t change your mind about her and leave her as everyone in Liyue else has done. She hopes you can see her true emotions, and that they’re enough to make you stay. Though something in the way you so easily comply with her antics, how you let her cup your face and sprinkle your skin with kisses, tells her that you’re here to stay.

If you enjoyed this, please consider liking or reblogging it <3!

You can check more of my writing on (this link!). Thank you!

[sombreboy]

Expensive doll⇢jjk & pjm

[ masterlist ] Serves as an afterstory for our series Mused Obsession, but can be read on its own. 

Written together with @chimoona​ as JM and @sombreboy​ as JK

Synopsis: In celebration of their one year anniversary, Jungkook dresses Jimin up in lingerie & makeup as his picture-perfect doll and ruins him in every way he desires.

⇢Explicit (18+) ⇢Pairing: Jungkook & Jimin ⇢Genre: smut, mxm ⇢Word count: 15.7k ⇢Ch.warnings: Profanity, JM dressing in lingerie and wearing makeup, messy kissing, degrading petnames and dirtytalk, breathplay, bj, praise kink, JK's fetish for crybaby JM remains intact, body worship, foot fetish JK literally slorps JM's petite little foot and it is v erotic join us feet hoes, some biting, mentions of blood(from a sharp stiletto lol dw), ok hold up and stay w me here JK rides JM but he is in no way a bottom, this is some top ridin' stuff to drive Jm mad and let me tell you it works, then JK puts little JM back in his place where he belongs stuffed with dick, rough fucking, in fact its so rough that JM can't hold his pee im not even sorry-- it was hot, idk what else if you've read any of my stuff you should just kinda know what you're up for. xo

The chime of the security alarm strikes the quiet mansion as Jungkook shuts the door behind him, kicking off his shoes in a hurry. He hugs luxury shopping bags close to his chest, trembling with excitement. He'd been holding onto the bags at work to ensure Jimin didn't see them for days, which felt like months—especially today, to finally come home to his favorite person in the entire universe and spend their first official anniversary together.

It's been an entire year since Jimin proved his love and dedication to the photographer, and life couldn't be any better than it is now. They're unstoppable, thriving as the biggest names in the industry. With a lot of fame—a lot more on Jimin's end—comes a lot of work and less time together, except for when they manage to crawl into bed at the end of the day. So, Jeon Jungkook wanted to make tonight extra special. He'd missed having Jimin truly just for himself; not just as a boyfriend, but as a model and his muse.

"Baby, I'm home." Jungkook calls out as he eyes the rooms, listening to where Jimin could be. He knows the model had the day off, so the younger man had given him a little white lie—he wouldn’t be able to make it home early. Yet here he is, giddy like a child and ready to surprise his beloved butterfly.

"Come to me~" He adds cheerfully while walking towards the stairs, searching for Jimin when he hears the small thuds of his lover's light footsteps.

"K-kookie?" Jimin calls from their bedroom, rubbing his sleepy eyes after a long nap. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Jungkook arrive.

Thinking he had more time to get dressed and ready for their night together, he's caught, fresh from restful sleep, wearing only an oversized t-shirt and tight black briefs. The night was planned to a T...in Jimin's mind. A brand new suit hung in the walk-in closet, designed and tailored specifically for his body. He knows how the young photographer likes to ogle when the fabric of his pants hugs his plump cheeks daringly, almost too tight for a public setting.

But tonight, there will be no public outing. No distractions from the outside world, getting in the way of their time together.

As high-profile as the two men have grown over the last year, they've found it hard to take a leisurely night out on the town without being spotted by a fan of their work or an industry mate trying to cut into their fun. It's been a rollercoaster, but it's been the thrill of their lives. Even then, it's necessary to plan nights of relaxation and indulgence. So, Jimin set out candles and dipped ruby ripe strawberries in milk chocolate, planning a romantic night with just the two of them. He even chilled a bottle of overpriced champagne—a gift from Namjoon, hand-delivered for the happy couple. It was assumed that since Jungkook was working late, the ambiance of a well-kept home and a willing partner was all he wanted anyhow... Until, of course, Jimin glides down the stairs and spots his lover with armfuls of bags. Designer bags.

"Welcome h-ooome," he yawns, still finding his voice, "And happy anniversary, baby." He leans in and stands on his toes, pressing his body into the bags held at Jungkook's chest to give him a sweet kiss. "I missed you a lot...and I cleaned up too, but I guess I fell asleep at some point. I was going to get all pretty for you, so just pretend I'm dressed up right now."

“You’re gorgeous, baby.” Jungkook smiles into the kiss, returning it softly. He pulls back to drink in the fresh state Jimin is in. No makeup, barely dressed... It's like the visionary’s plans were fated to happen. “And this is perfect for what I have planned for you. A clean canvas, so to speak.” The young photographer adds as he hands over the bags to his lover. “Take off everything you’re wearing and put this on, nothing else. And bring the small bag with you to the studio.” He leans in closer to allow the hot breath of every spoken word to fan over Jimin’s cheek, whispering his next words. “I’ll be waiting for you. Okay? Now go.”

Accustomed to following the photographer's orders, Jimin doesn't waste a moment scurrying to the bathroom and peeling off his shirt on the way in. He kicks off his underwear and sits on the closed toilet seat to skim through the first bag's contents. The second he runs his hands over smooth silk ribbons and lace, his heart leaps out of his chest. 

Lingerie. Women's lingerie, he notes internally as his fingers skim the fabric with a timid touch. It feels small in his hand, and he already knows it's not meant to cover much. Jungkook has always been an appreciator of visual art, and in the back of Jimin's mind, he always knew this moment would come. The female form can be voluptuous and sensual—soft to the touch and comforting when held close. 

Without taking the lingerie out to inspect it closely, Jimin knows this look is made to illuminate his feminine traits—to hug the small of his waist and accentuate the curve of his hips, prominently displaying some of his lover's favorite parts with exaggerated flair.

As a former full-time model, Jimin doesn't think twice about indulging this new request from Jungkook. He's been half-naked in front of strangers in very scandalous clothing, it's only right he indulges his partner with the same courtesy, under his exact specifications. 

He sets the smaller bag aside and removes the clothing, gasping at the bright red shade the younger man had chosen. It looks like fresh blood as he tugs it onto his small body—ribbons drip down his legs to capture the matching set of pure red stockings. When he slips them over his legs, they stop at the feet, hugging them tight and showing the delicate curve of his arches.

A slender garter belt cinches high around his waist and rests low on his hips, made of a thin weave of lace that opens up at the belly button to show off the cute dip of his tummy. Not even fully dressed, he feels pretty...desirable. With each new addition, he feels his confidence grow, matching the opulent fit his love has chosen for their special occasion. Jimin grasps the silk ties that dangle off the belt and loop them into the stockings, holding them tight against his body and matching the two pieces as one. He takes his time to billow the ties into eye-catching bows, adding more of a feminine flair to his long slender legs. 

He opens another bag and clasps his hand over his mouth, pulling out an accompanying bralette, so fair and petite. It's soft on his skin. Everything feels so soft and erotic, like it was crafted to draw moans from his mouth before he's even touched by warm hands. The gentle graze of the lace over his nipples makes him bite his lower lip to push back building arousal. When he crosses his legs to finish clasping the bralette behind his back, he feels the rub of new lace against his cock, only drawing his attention to the fact that women's underwear does not provide enough room to hold him fully. If he gets harder, which he's certain he will, it will be impossible not to poke out and dribble over the rouge fabric.

Once Jimin empties the bags and slips every bit of clothing onto his body, he steps back to admire the full look. Even in the dim bathroom mirror, he finds every little bit of his form jaw-dropping as it's prettily wrapped in red. But no look is complete without a matching set of kitten heels, which he slips onto his red silken feet. He immediately notices how the added height accentuates his plump cheeks, out in the open, skimmed down the center with a cheeky thong.

"Woah..." The model takes a few strides across the bathroom floor to get a feel for the new footwear. A few clumsy trips over the tile to get started, but after a couple minutes, his confidence is through the roof. He can stride effortlessly and sway his hips in a subtle yet seductive manner.

"O-okay." He psyches himself up, licking his thick lips in a quick swipe while he drinks in a final look of his fit. He grabs the smallest bag, still unopened, and exits the bathroom to find Jungkook waiting for him in his personal studio.

Meanwhile, Jungkook just finished setting up the finishing touches to his studio and waited for the most important centerpiece of the night. His favorite camera sits on a tripod next to his large armchair, which is to be his spot to admire his creation. He presses record before he forgets to, and knowing how he will soon see his lover in the new lingerie, there'd be no time to think about whether or not the camera captures it all. What he didn't expect, however, was to find the fresh chocolate dipped strawberries, paired with a bottle of champagne. He immediately noted that this wasn't something he had in his own collection, so he figured this was Jimin's preparation for the night.

"So sweet to me, always.." Jungkook sighs dreamily when placing the strawberries and the bottle on the small table next to his chair as he takes his seat. His lover always finds little ways to show his affection; always considerate of Jungkook in everything he does. It's cute, and even if the elder man's plans might not be what he initially thought, Kook is sure that this will surpass anything he had in mind.

"He should be here soon..." He leans back in his seat, still wearing the suit he'd worn all day at work. His strong, tattooed fingers wrap around his tie and tug at it to loosen the fabric a bit. He rolls up the sleeves of his white dress shirt after discarding the suit jacket to let it be thrown on the floor behind the chair. His breathing slows down when he listens intently for the powerful sound of heels coming from the bedroom, echoing in the hallway. Although he knows what to expect, he still doesn't know just how it would look-- how his Jimin would pull off the look. The thick swallow in anticipation causes his adam's apple to bob, already excited as his heart beats harder in his chest.

Jimin bottles his nerves and clicks his heels with slow steps, echoing deliberately on the hard floor until he reaches the studio doorway.

"Don't laugh, okay?" He smirks at his own words, still hidden around the corner of the doorframe, knowing there's no way on earth Jungkook could find this fit humorous. "I'm coming in..."

One step forward, and he's basked in the low light of the photographer's setup. He swallows hard at the first sight of Jungkook, even when he's dressed the same as when he left him. The loosened tie captures his attention, and he swallows again at the thought of holding it while he glides his silken legs over his lover's lap to ride him roughly. The anticipation of what Jungkook has in store for Jimin is overwhelming.

Jimin gives the photographer a moment to gather himself before he walks forward, placing one heel in front of the other and sashaying his hips with each step. The camera blinks red to indicate it's recording, and Jimin doesn't let it distract his attention for a second. He moves in a slow weave, looking up at his partner under a tempting hooded gaze--long eyelashes beckoning him closer. When he reaches the center of the studio, he stops for further instruction, standing with confidence and poise. 

"You chose well, baby. I love it." He gives a slow twirl, pivoting on his slim heel to show off the back, pausing to give the younger man a good look. "...do you like it?"

“I really like it.. I knew you’d look perfect in this.” Jungkook drinks in the entirety of his lover, his heavy gaze not leaving a single inch of the model's body unseen. The lingerie is perfect, covering just enough—but doesn’t hide anything. His hungry eyes travel down the blonde model’s back; from his slender back to his plump ass, not to mention how the posture from the heels make it stand out even more. “Did you bring the small bag?” He asks, beckoning Jimin to come closer with a wave of his hand, itching to feel his delicate body beneath his fingertips.

Jimin nods yes, stepping towards his lover. "I didn't peek, I was good." He says it in an innocent tone, as if he doesn't look like a goddamn succubus in fuck-me heels. A brilliant red strap of his bralette slips down his shoulder, which he takes his time slipping back into place. Even if he feels a bit out of place in this new look, he pulls it off with grace and seduction.

Jimin hands the bag to Jungkook. "I'm sure whatever it is, it'll make this moment even better." He kneels at the photographer's feet in a natural subservient position, resting his elbows on the man's thighs and peering up at him for further instruction.

"Yes." Jungkook says softly while taking the bag in his hands, giving Jimin an approving smile. While his face remains unbothered, the strain of his half erect cock proves that he's anything but. The visuals of the elder in such sinful fabrics drives him crazy, and eager to ruin them in every way he pleases. "You're such a good boy to me. Always trusting me with your everything."

Jungkook digs into the bag, pulling out a small, high end lipstick. He puts the bag to the side, grabbing Jimin's chin with his free hand while popping the lid off the lipstick with his thumb, leaning forward in his seat to get a proper look of his lover's bare face. 

"Pout." He instructs, twirling the little stick to slide the blood red lipstick from hiding, bringing it close to Jimin's plump lips. When the blonde does as told, he gently swipes the crimson color onto the delicate skin of Jimin's lower lip. His cock throbs at how effortlessly it stains his pretty mouth, and he keeps adding more; layer after layer until he's satisfied with the deep, bloody red adorning one of many favorite features of his man. 

"You look like a doll already, so pretty.." Jungkook sighs, a mixture of his adoration and sexual frustration building at the sight. But he's patient, and leans back a bit to inspect his work, moving his hold on the smaller man's jaw to rub his thumb over Jimin's lips, staining the pad of his finger in the process.

A moan presses passed Jimin’s pursed pout. All he’s ever wanted since he met the mysterious man is to be everything for him—there, at his feet, living to serve his deepest desires. To give a taste of his commitment to the role, he swipes his pierced tongue over the finger in a slow motion.

“I can see how hard you’re getting, Kookie...” He takes the thumb between his stained lips and circles his tongue around it, releasing with a light pop. “...seeing me like this, dressed in the underwear you chose...” He peers down at the slick thumb and admires the prominent stain—a perfect shade to match the rest of his ensemble. “...bet you’d love to admire every inch of your creation.” Jimin circles his tongue around the digit once more and pulls it into his mouth, humming his pleasure into the photographer’s skin. He brings a hand up to palm his lover’s stiffening length through unbuttoned pants.

"Mm, you know exactly what I like." Jungkook purrs, glancing down for a moment to watch Jimin's delicate hand touch his hard length, now prominent through the fabrics keeping it hidden. His gaze travels back to the model's face. Seeing Jimin's doe eyes look up at him with such submission, admiration... love. It drives the photographer mad with desire.

"There's so much I wanna do to you." He breathes out, his sentence ending with a quiet moan as he bucks up into Jimin's small palm. When his lust takes over, slowly and steadily, his impulses grow more reckless. "Or make you do, for me.." He adds before swiping his thumb over the lipstick once more, dragging the pad of his digit further past the corner of the model's mouth. A stripe smeared in red adorns Jimin's cheek like a small chelsea smile-effect. Jungkook's hand moves back down to wrap behind Jimin's neck, covering his nape with the warmth of his palm as he leans forward to draw his lover in for a messy kiss, aiding in the destruction of the pretty lipstick he'd just applied. 

A red mess is created between the two, their lips coated with splashes of the color and the taste of chemicals mixing with their saliva. But Kook doesn't care—instead, he enjoys every second of it, forcing his tongue between Jimin's parted lips to claim his mouth.

"Look at you..." Jungkook murmurs when he pulls back, the thick string of saliva connecting their tongues breaking off when he speaks, watching it fall to stick to Jimin's chin. "Your makeup got ruined, what a shame.." The faux concern in his tone is evident in contrast to the pleased fire in his eyes. He takes the lipstick, grabbing the blonde's jaw a bit harder this time to reapply, not bothering to wipe off the already smeared makeup around the lips. "Baby... Take my dick out while I fix this, I'm aching."

Jimin pants, left breathless from the younger man's kiss. "Mm--ah...okay." His hand resumes gentle strokes over the clothed length, just feeling for a moment while he distracts his mind from his own growing erection. The press of his pink swollen cock head tests the integrity of the lace, making it bulge out noticeably. When his hand slips into Jungkook's pants to pet him bare, he can't bite back the whimpers of need that brush his partner's fingers.

"Y-you really are aching." Jimin's mouth salivates, murmuring the words to avoid messing up Jungkook's artwork. "Fuck...so big, baby." The blonde model uses one hand to tug down his lover's pants and underwear while the other maintains a languid pace over his silken skin. He takes a pause to bring his messy lips close, wetting Jungkook's shaft with an audible spit that dribbles down his chin. He's never been perfect at following instructions when arousal fogs his mind. At this moment, he needs to hear the slick sounds of cock in his hand. He needs to feel the warmth of blood pulsating under his touch, stiffening and dripping for more. 

"May I taste you, sir?" He reverts back to his role, asking sweetly, nipping the bottom lip and smudging the lipstick even more. "Please."

“How can I refuse when you ask so sweetly?” Jungkook looks at his creation, already seeing the blonde mess up the lipstick with his spit and nipping of his lips. It both pleased him and annoyed him, but the heavy arousal weighing on him clouds his judgement and makes him more forgiving towards Jimin’s light disobedience. It’s to be expected, and seeing his lips messy and smeared with red while sucking his cock is all the photographer could think of, for now. “If that’s what my baby wants,” he sighs, reaching out to smudge the other end of the corner of the model's mouth, finishing the joker-like smile on his cheeks. 

Kook leans back in his seat again, moving his hands to rest on his thighs. Kook’s gaze is focused on Jimin, drinking in every feature, observing every little movement. He zeroes in on his messy lips, and feels a moan scratching at the back of his throat at the sight. He can’t wait to see his lover turn into a broken mess, one step at a time. 

“Suck it deeply.. take all of it. No teasing.”

To test the waters, Jimin gives a light swipe along the bottom of Jungkook's shaft, drawing his pink muscle up to the tip and swirling it around the leaking slit in tight circles. 

"Mm, uhm—ahh..." Jimin becomes vocal, humming around the thick length as he pops it in and out of his plump lips, watching it twitch with delight each time he strips Jungkook of his building pleasure. Jungkook said not to tease, but the pretty little blonde craves to feel each shudder of arousal. Each touch from him is live-wired to the younger man, and Jimin feels powerful by causing it to happen. Plus, as an added perk, he knows the slow and drawn-out pace will cause more trouble for him in the long-run. And...what's life without a little pain? He anticipates it. He knows, as nicely as he's dressed, his partner can easily turn him into a crying mess without any regard for the flashy fine clothing. No amount of silk and lace can conceal his inner need to be lovingly destroyed. 

With a lasting swipe of his hot tongue across the ridge of Jungkook's tip, Jimin pops it into between his rouge lips, already smearing a bit of the lipstick over the smooth skin. He bobs his head to wet the throbbing cock, spilling his saliva down the length of it with little to no regard for the mess it creates. He knows, better than anyone, the messier he is, the better.

"Ah, mmh—I told you, no teasing..." Jungkook huffs with furrowed brows, focused on how well Jimin takes his girthy length all the way, dragging his tongue against the smooth skin, watching himself get covered in saliva and faint marks of the lipstick.

"Always making it difficult for me, looking so sweet and innocent..." Jungkook licks his lips at the sight of the elder's messy mouth, makeup smearing past his lips and drooling down his chin onto his length. He's sucked the photographer's cock countless times, so he knows exactly how to do it, and his gag reflex had become close to nonexistent. But, that doesn't mean it's not there, one just has to use a bit of force. "But you're anything but innocent, aren't you? Sucking me off like a cockhungry whore." The photographer bites back a moan, unable to keep his hands off of Jimin for too long before he's already weaving his fingers through his lover's blonde curls to get a good grip. He's gentle at first, just feeling the motion of Jimin's head bob up and down his length, wet sounds and whiny, muffled moans filling the room as no other sound is audible inside the isolated space.

"So be it. If you want my cock that badly, then keep sucking." Jungkook tugs at Jimin's hair, forcing his head to move harder and faster. His generous length makes space in the model's delicate throat, forcing the continuous pool of drool to seep from Jimin's mouth to add to the mess, not allowing him to get off to breathe except from his nose.

Jimin crosses his ankles and rests his bare butt on top of the heels. They clack together as he bends forward and bobs his head steadily, opening up his throat to feel Jungkook's wet tip guide the way. Inch by fleshy inch, his lover's cock fills the space within him. It causes his own cock to peek out of the slim red lace and poke Jimin's abdomen as he bends deep. The blonde swallows around Jungkook's fat cock and holds still, warming it as deep as he can possibly bear, forcing himself to wait until he feels lightheaded.

When his lungs burn for breath, he withdraws slowly, tonguing the prominent veins that bulge along his lover's shaft. "Mmf...g-ah—ack!" He chokes on the last couple inches and holds his small palms in the inner curve of Jungkook's thighs for balance. "...Mine. All mine...tastes so yummy," he emphasizes, swiping a bead of precum directly from the leaking slit. Lost in his own little world, feeling pretty yet needy for friction, he wraps a hand around the shaft and strokes it up and down quickly.

" I-I'm your whore, sir." He looks the part—plump lips and cheeks stained with red, stringing long strands of his spit to the younger's twitching head. To the outside world, he's nothing but the most well-kept, straight-laced individual. Here? He lets go entirely, making his body available for use without a care of how someone else perceives him. The only opinion that matters is the man before him. 

Jimin looks down and notices a strap of his bralette had fallen down, only matching his role of sultry temptress...quickly morphing to messy slut. He purposefully lets the other strap fall, looking up at Jungkook with beckoning lashes. 

"Am I doing well?"

"Mm.. Could do better." Jungkook lies, towering over Jimin's small frame on the floor. His long, raven curls fall forward, framing his sharp features. Being in this position, seeing everything from above, makes him feel so utterly powerful. And Jimin's big, glossy eyes meeting his own only adds to the fire that awakens every single hormone in his body.

In reality, Jimin is doing well. In fact, he's doing an amazing job at driving the photographer mad. His cock twitches delightfully in the model's hands, his abdomen tightening in excitement and heart fluttering beneath his heaving ribcage.

"A job well done isn't without your pretty tears, baby." Jungkook says softly, taking deep breaths to keep his voice from wavering too much in pleasure. He strokes his fingers through his lover's bright, silky curls, coaxing him to take him back into his mouth. "Choke on it, but don't make me cum... Just enough to make your eyes sparkle for me."

Jimin chokes on nothing but a quick gasp. "O-of course." He shrinks under Jungkook's commanding gaze and rubs his thighs together, wishing he had permission to adjust his now fully erect cock. To solidify his subservience, on top of his now glassy eyes, he takes another step and clasps his hands behind his back. No ties or cuffs are necessary, although he'd enjoy being bound tight and abused for being a tease—it was the plan all along.

"I love you," he whispers, swallowing down a fresh wave of emotion and looking up to let Jungkook admire the first tear roll down his cheek. The wet droplet catches the makeup and slips off his chin to seep into his bright red lingerie. Jimin holds eye contact and sticks out his tongue, showing off the pretty piece of jewelry at the center, right where Jungkook placed it nearly a year ago. He gives a couple testing kitten licks, then hovers his pout over the tip, plunging the full length down his throat without a testing suck. No more teasing, he tells himself, gagging around the fat cock. 

Just as Jungkook demanded, Jimin strips himself of breath until he's crying for relief. Hands still clasped tight and out of the way, he's given himself no way of escape, showing his true resilience and commitment to the task he's given.

“Oh, my Jimin..” Jungkook sighs in pleasure, watching how his hefty length disappears into the welcoming warmth of his lover's throat. The flesh contracts around him when the model gags, squeezing tightly to draw more low moans and grunts from the photographer. “You’re doing so well now.” He praises, brushing his thumb beneath Jimin’s eye to catch a few tears. He’s convinced that although there’s a million types of makeup to make one look perfect, Jimin looks his prettiest when his skin is glowing from the shine of his tears. The way his submissive stare from below is sparkling like little stars, just for Jeon Jungkook. The way Jimin will endure anything to please.

“Nobody is prettier than you.” Jungkook bites his lower lip at the sight below, and grows impatient. He keeps a tight grip on his lover's hair, cock deeply buried in his throat while he stands up from his seat. “Nobody could ever compare to you, butterfly.” He hisses, feeling the heat of his words creep onto his cheeks while meeting the elders glossy eyes. He withdraws his hips slowly, only to thrust forward and lodge the head of his jeweled cock as deep as possible. He sighs, lip quivering at his lover's compliance. It’s too exciting, his body is practically shaking with itching, aggressive longing to destroy Jimin further. Patience, he reminds himself. It is their special night, so he wants to ensure Jimin feels like the most desired human in the universe.

The warming praise gives Jimin the courage he needs to slide his lips up the rigid length, gliding his wet ribbed tongue in gentle sweeps. His throat burns from the intrusion, yet, it's a familiar sensation and it does very little to detract him from bobbing his head and building up the photographer until he's at his brink. Slick, slobbery sucks and the occasional gag and gasp for breath becomes the playlist of their evening. Even the model becomes affected by his own desperate sounds. He wiggles his plump butt in a subtle motion to take his attention off the desire pulsing in his veins. He sucks and tongues, staring up at Jungkook until his vision blurs with a wave of new tears. Jimin rests back on his heels to catch his breath, letting the throbbing cock flop out of his mouth and into his hand, holding it firm and continuing to bring his lover close to the edge without immediate relief.

"Fuck me." The second the words leave his swollen lipstick-smeared lips is the moment he cracks, just a little. Hot tears fall down Jimin's cheeks--hand stroking the soaked length until he's trembling to be touched. "I n-need you, Kookie."

Within what seems like a split second, Jungkook dropped to his knees on the floor in front of Jimin; framing his small face in his large palms to draw him in for a messy kiss. He can taste everything-- the mixture of lipstick and saliva, sullied with the taste of his own cock lingering on the model's tongue. But the highlight of it all is the salty topping of Jimin's tears, a clear result of his effort and submission that he worked himself so hard that his body rejected it-- and yet endured to fulfill the photographer's desires.

"Haah, you need me?" Jungkook chuckles when he pulls back from the heated kiss, lingering close to softly press his lips over Jimin's damp cheeks. His own are stained with a faint red, transferred from the elder's pillowy ones.

"Sure you're not tired of this cock?" He smiles as he continues to kiss away Jimin's tears, tongue poking out to lick his cheek as his hot breath fans his face. While he does so, his hands let go of Jimin's face to smooth down his slender form, snaking behind his back until they settle on his ass, mercilessly squeezing the flesh between his fingers. "After you got a taste of Joonie, maybe I won't be enough?" Jungkook's wolfish smile doesn't falter, knowing this will tug at his lover's heartstrings. His kisses travel south, leaving red sucks and bites to blossom on the model's fair skin in it's path down to find a spot by his collarbone where he sucks harshly, certain that it'll leave a possessive mark behind.

"Joonie?" The tears on Jimin's cheeks glisten under the studio lights. His quivering bottom lip juts out in a pout as he naturally leans into the breath of Jungkook's suckles. The hot, tongued, needy markings become painful. Jimin huffs out a low moan. "Hyung was big...but he doesn't taste like you...fuck--" He takes Jungkook's face between his hands and returns the kiss, mashing their lips together messily, parting his mouth and giving him a longing taste of what he desires most. The model draws back slowly, making sure thin strands of their combined saliva string between their tongues, obvious for his lover to admire.

"You're more than enough..." Jimin whispers, letting a hand drop back to Jungkook's swollen cock, still dripping wet with his spit and precum. "I only beg for you, baby. I only want you...playing with me...fucking me...using me until I c-cry." He scoots forward and lets the length drop from his hand, then lifts his knees to straddle the photographer's lap on the floor. While the move may be a little too desperate, he doesn't have a single shred of care in his small body. He aches to feel his love's large hands tug at the lingerie, to feel the way his dripping cock strains against the material, and how it hugs his tense thighs. More than anything, he wants to rock his plump cheeks over Jungkook's shaft, until he's shaking to rip off every bit of red satin and lace from his skin. Jimin pleas in a cracked voice. "Will you make me cry, Kookie?"

"How can you say it so sweetly, as if you aren't crying already..." Jungkook admires the disheveled man before him, lips swollen and messy with smeared makeup. The loose bands of the bralette hang down Jimin's small biceps, adding to the vision in the photographer's mind. "You know how I love it when you beg like this." The younger's strained voice breaks into a low, needy growl when aggression fuels his sadistic desires to go further. Jimin knows this is just one of his ways to show his affection, this is how he's always been, and will continue to always be. Jungkook's greedy hands knead at the flesh of Jimin's ass, nails scraping the fabrics of the lingerie, tugging so harshly that it struggles to not break in his grasp. He spreads the model's ass, keeping the lingerie in the way of his tight entrance as his rigid length rubs against it.

"I don't want you to cry..." Jungkook presses Jimin's ass down, rubbing his cock between the soft cheeks of the model's ass. He looks at his face, never wavering the intense eye contact he initiates while one hand withdraws from it's hold to scavenge the floor next to him, grabbing the opened lipstick. He leans forward, one arm snaking around Jimin's small waist to keep him in place, thick length snugly pressed beneath the blonde's weight while the other hand resumes to add another layer of lipstick, fixing the mess without cleaning up what's been smeared. "I want you to scream so loud that you cannot make a single sound," He smiles, pressing the lipstick harder against his lips, adding a second layer, watching the product crumble a little. "I want you to choke on your own cries, because you can't think of anything else but me."

One last swipe, and Jungkook moves on to draw a little heart in the middle of Jimin's chest, filling it in meticulously. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek in focus, before he finishes and looks back up at the elder. "Now..." He sighs, feeling the painful aching when his cock throbs against the damp lingerie separating himself from being inside of Jimin. He nudges his chin in the direction behind him towards the armchair. "Get up."

The soft pink curve of Jungkook’s lips tempts Jimin to lean in and sully his fair skin with the clumpy lipstick. But he refrains, because he trusts the vision of his photographer—always. He looks like sin—dressed as an upscale whore, made a hot mess by the various layers of makeup applied between spit-slicked kisses and mouth fucking. He would have never chosen this look for himself, and that’s part of the thrill. It’s fresh and exciting, knowing only he can fulfill this erotic vision; being the only muse fit for the occasion, or any other.

“Yes, sir.” Jimin stands to his feet, a little wobbly as he adjusts to the height of the heels. The chair feels miles away the farther the small model steps away from his partner. Yet, the mystery of what could come next makes his heart thunder in his chest. He rubs his lips together to smooth the luxe lipstick, rubbing beyond his natural lines to make his pillowy plush pout look even fuller. Jimin sits on the chair, prim and proper with his legs crossed, pointing the tip of a slim heel in Jungkook’s direction.

“How would you like me?” He asks innocently in a sweet tone, as if he isn’t dressed in women’s lingerie, practically dripping with precum, hard cock straining against the lace.

“Like that, just like that...'' Jungkook stares up from his position on the floor, crawling forward on all fours like a predator slowly approaching it's prey. A new spark of various emotions swirl in his gaze, ranging from admiration and affection-- drowning in the crazed hunger that seeps through his blown out pupils. Having the Park Jimin looking like a hot mess made his cock stir painfully as he tucked himself back in his underwear, leaving the pants undone. It wasn't his turn yet, and as they both know-- the reward of patience will be immensely satisfying.

"Can you imagine if anybody else saw you like this? Every media source would explode, the internet would be on fire." Jungkook sighs dreamily from the mere thought of it. What makes it so good, is the fact that he remains the only person... Well, out of two, in the world to see the famous model and designer turn into a submissive plaything. "You'd lose everything... And for what? To please me?" Jungkook shakes his head, chuckling in a mocking manner as if it's unbelievable that Jimin would go such daring lengths of risking everything, time and time again, just to keep Jeon Jungkook happy.

Just to be his whore.

"And that is why I love you... You know exactly how I like you." The photographer says softly. His gaze drinks up the view above him, from Jimin's messy pout, down his clammy, heaving chest, to his crossed thighs hiding the pretty little cock that is most definitely screaming for relief.

"A needy whore. A compliant whore." Jungkook murmurs to himself when his gaze finds the heel pointing at him. His hands greedily reach out to grab Jimin's delicate ankle, kissing and biting at the stockings covering his soft skin. His free hand grabs the shoe, slowly sliding it off to place it on the floor with unexpected care. He looks up at the blonde again, his dark stare softening at the small gasps continuously pushing past Jimin's swollen lips. Kook kisses travel further down, his own breaths becoming heavy and shaky at how feminine Jimin's small foot looks, covered with the see through fabrics, holding it in his hand like it's the most precious thing he's ever seen.

"A doll." He smiles, closing his eyes when he indulges, flattening his tongue to lick a long, slow, stripe from Jimin's heel to his toe.

“S-shit...” The wet pink muscle tickles Jimin’s sensitive arch, but the pressure of it makes it more enjoyable than he anticipated. Every square inch of his body has been worshipped, marked, pleasured, pained, and all the rest of it—every sensation imaginable, Jungkook has inflicted it with purpose. Even as he pleases his own carnal impulses, he dangles new kinks in the model’s face, tempting him to grasp them tight.

“What are you—“ He knew the second he slipped on those tantalizing stilettos that there was a greater plan in store. The dagger-sharp, pointed heels could easily be used as weapons. After a year with Jungkook, he’s learned how much weaponry and danger makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Jimin moans delicately.

“Do you like my feet, puppy?” The glide of Jungkook’s tongue can be felt through the sheer fabric, seeping the moisture of his spit down to the skin. “Want to taste more?” Sitting on his makeshift throne makes him feel power and strength. He’s well aware that in a heartbeat he can be rag-dolled in any position the younger man desires, but he’s placed in a position of command with his partner at his feet. So he lifts his other foot off the floor and places the sharp point of his shoe onto Jungkook’s thigh, digging it into the muscle just a bit. “Tear the stockings, please.” Jimin’s voice shakes. “R-ruin them. Take it off, with your teeth.”

Jungkook's grasp around Jimin's ankle tightens when he feels the pointy heel dig into his thigh, drawing a low moan from deep within his chest. He gazes up at Jimin through his dark lashes, crooking an eyebrow.

"What was that?" his wicked smile is hiding behind Jimin's foot, which he kisses the sole of between his words. "I thought I heard the doll speak, I must be mad..." Jungkook purposely put Jimin in this position, knowing exactly how it'd make him feel to see the photographer on his knees. The bratty side to the model always knew how to spur-- or in this case, literally step on his nerves to get what he wants. It all serves to the buildup of a bigger purpose; the more riled up Jungkook becomes, the harder Jimin gets fucked. And he knows it too well. Just how long it'll take before he gets what he wants, is the big question.

He looks up at his hot mess of a lover again, saying nothing as he silently obeys his wish when he bites down on the fabrics, carelessly dragging his teeth against the fair skin as he does so. He pulls back, ripping the expensive material off like a kid that's too excited on Christmas to care about whether the wrapping paper is torn to shreds. He nips at the broken fabrics, slowly sliding it off from his lower leg and down to slip it off his foot, audibly spitting it out from his mouth to lunge back in. His hands withdraw to settle on the other leg, still covered and dressed with the heel that so deliciously stings into his muscular thigh. He strokes it gently, so carefully it must tickle more than anything, while wrapping his plush, lipstick stained lips around Jimin's toe, sucking and tonguing it shamelessly with low hums in satisfaction and hot breaths through his nose.

It is overwhelming to even think about the erotic visuals he's capturing on camera, so much that his cheeks flush with heat, and his thick bulge twitches with every little stroke of his tongue that snakes around and in-between the model's petite toes.

"Gah--fucking...shit--ah!" Jimin chokes on a whine as his first digit slips into Jungkook's hot mouth. Each delicate nerve ending sparks to life and ripples tingly pleasurable goosebumps up his legs. He clamps his thighs shut and adjusts the heel, scraping into the fabric of his pants, testing the limit of Jungkook's flesh. Mind over matter, the small male wriggles his butt in his seat, internally battling the conflicting tickly sensations vs his overbearing arousal. With just a single toe suckled between his favorite pair of messy lips, his mind numbs and his limbs tense to claw for leverage. Feeling this, and seeing it happen--admiring the way Jungkook's long lashes close gently as he indulges in the moment. Jimin grips the chair arms in both hands and tears his sharp nails into the upholstery. Jimin mewls, straining to keep quiet, allowing his partner to focus on his indulgence.

“Mm--ah, ah, god..." He closes his eyes and simply feels the movement of the wet muscle, licking between his toes, around them, sucking them into his mouth, until they're glistening in his saliva. "M-more--more..." he whispers, slapping a hand over his begging lips. He broke the stocking, slid it off of him with his teeth without any regard to the price or quality of the fabric. No moment of hesitation to argue against the command or counter with something more enjoyable for both of them. Spoiled, is the word Jimin thinks of...he's pampered in this position, given exactly what he needs, like a prized porcelain doll.

"M-mooore," he whines from behind his hand, biting hard into the soft skin between his pointer finger and thumb, muffling the garbled sounds and using pressure to distract. His eyes seek the recording camera before letting a tear slide down his ruddy cheek, swiping his small tongue over his rouge pout and swallowing hard. "Baby, f-feels--mmf...so good. Looks so pretty..."

With a wet pop, Jungkook withdraws his lips from Jimin's cleaned up toes. His eyes open slowly as he does so, looking up at the overwhelmed man above, shaking with his arousal and inner battle to stay still and receiving the reward. Who the reward is for remains a mystery.

"So greedy... Didn't know you loved having your filthy toes sucked so much." He hums, glancing down at the wet patch of precum staining his underwear, a clear result of just how much he enjoys it as well. "What else do you want?"

Jungkook doesn't look at Jimin while asking, but keeps his attention on the slender legs in front of him. He grabs the model's ankle, uncrossing his legs to spread them wide, scuffing closer between to where he can access and lean his cheek against Jimin's inner thigh, so close but so far away from the aching, pretty cock that's barely covered by the soft lace.

"You're really digging that heel into my leg, baby... Ouch..." He sighs, feeling his length throb with every movement that twists the heel into his flesh. He purposely chose sharp heels, feeling his mixture of bad temper, impatience and lust fill him with every hot breath pushing past his lips. He snakes a hand down between his legs, slipping past the waistband of his boxers to squeeze his cock tightly, staring up at Jimin with doe puppy eyes, rubbing his cheek against the clammy skin of the blonde's thigh. "It hurts, hmm.. Ah.." He closes his eyes again, kissing the skin softly, seemingly gentle-- until his lips curl into a small smile, parting his teeth only to bite down on Jimin's flesh, leaving a possessive mark behind.

Jimin's nails tear away from the upholstery and grasp Jungkook by the roots.

"Sss--ow, fuuck." The fresh mark lays very close to the tattoo on his thigh, still brilliantly colorful with dark shading, like he got it weeks prior. A bruise begins to bloom between the embedded dips where Jungkook's teeth sunk in. It's hot and tender and ignites the rest of his skin to an even coat of blush. Without noticing, Jimin drags his heel down gradually, brought to attention when it clacks onto the floor in front of Jungkook's knelt frame...Tempting…

"Oh, baby. It hurts, huh?" Jimin coos as his fingers naturally soothe the sensitive skin of his lover's scalp. He notices a new hole in Jungkook's pants where his heel punctured through, straight down to the skin. On the fine tip of the heel is a subtle patch of blood where he scraped a little too roughly. "Poor puppy..."

It's a rare occasion to have the photographer in such a submissive state, but he seems to enjoy it more and more once Jimin inflicts a little pain. So that's exactly what the model does, to give back the pleasure and revel in the pristine imagery of his lover on bent knees to please. "Lick it," Jimin says in a quiet voice, bringing his heel to his partner's lips. He clears his throat and states it again, louder and with confidence, wrapping his other leg over Jungkook's shoulder and pulling him closer to the sharp point. "Just like you did my toes, clean this pretty heel."

"Mm? That's what you want..." Jungkook squeezes his cock tighter, blocking the blood flow until he feels his pulse thunder through the swollen tip. He tilts his head to the side slightly, giving Jimin a good view of the way he leans in and opens his mouth wide. His tongue snakes around the sharp heel, scooping up the droplet of his own blood to coat his wet muscle in a thin layer of red. His raised eyebrows serve as a silent question of whether or not he is doing it right... And by the way Jimin's big eyes are quivering as they meet his own, he's more than certain of the answer.

Jungkook hums lowly, a deep moan caught in his throat when he tugs the waistband down to set his cock free from hiding once more, openly massaging his slick length to the way he keeps licking the heel, from the sharpness to the sole, a flattened tongue dragging up like a dog lapping up their favorite meal.

"That's g-good...so good." Any mortal man would go cross eyed from the sinful sight. Jimin is made tougher than most, strong from being with Jungkook, but he's easily bent and broken from the simplest sights. Anything from the younger man melts the model's mind to horny mush--trying on a new pair of Versace shades, or hitting a high score on Overwatch, or sloppily sipping a bananamilk until the container runs dry. This visual, however...is quite complex. The blonde sweats lightly, swallowing tight and combing his fingers through Jungkook's shaggy raven locks, getting lost in the action. He isn't even directly touched, and yet, he feels electric shock waves of pleasure from simply watching Jungkook thumb over his dripping cock head and lap the razor sharp edge of his stiletto.

"Keep touching yourself," he whimpers, gaze hungrily following the younger man's slippery pink tongue slide over the last unsullied strip of heel. "A-and...gah...don't cum." Jimin wrenches his eyes shut and moves his other hand down to touch himself too. His hand grips his needy length tight through the sheer fabric and he bucks upward to chase the friction. In the process, he jolts the heel between his love's lips and gives the plump bottom pout a swift cut. "Shit, puppy, I-I'm..."

Jungkook grunts, flinching slightly from the unexpected. He looks down, seeing as blood drips from his lip to the floor into a growing puddle, deep enough to give a burning sensation in his delicate skin. Deep enough to fuel his various emotions..

"You got too greedy." He mumbles, not bothering to wipe it off as it creates a red string of liquid running down his chin when he looks up at Jimin. His doe eyes fade into the familiar dark stare that the model knows too well. Jungkook could only hold his faux submission for so long, his generosity for the night of giving Jimin the sense of power running out quickly.

"But you just can't control yourself, can you?" Jungkook gets up on his feet, placing his hands on the armrests while towering close over Jimin, face inches away from the mess of a man. "What am I gonna do with such a slut... Getting so excited you can't even sit still in a fuckin' chair." He hisses, swiping up the blood on his lip with his tongue, mixing it with his spit. He grabs Jimin's jaw tightly, forcing his mouth open, tilting his little head back while he hovers over him. "Guess you'll just have to reap what you sow, little whore." He murmurs against Jimin's lips before he parts his own, letting the bloody mixture of his saliva drip into Jimin's lips, seeping into his mouth. He keeps a tight grip on the model, not letting him move or reject the offer the photographer gives him. Kook shimmies out of his pants while he does so, slowly climbing on top to straddle Jimin's lap, caging his small frame onto the chair.

The model nods rapidly, brushing the bloody mixture between their painted lips.

"I'll take it all." A string of Jungkook's red saliva trails between their parted mouths as Jimin arches up and steals a couple desperate kisses. "Anything you want to do t-to me." Whether he believes his own words or not is a big mystery. When he says anything, he forgets just how unpredictable and harsh his love can be when provoked. But in the moment, it feels right, especially when the heat of Jungkook's bare cock is felt so close to where he wants it most.

Jimin reaches his arms around Jungkook's torso, feels the muscles of his back tense and release while he finds his footing. He breathes in through his nose to smell the gentle cologne and musk of the photographer, and the very faint but nostalgic and calming scent of his shampoo. Jimin flicks out his tongue and tastes the rust that lingers atop the lipstick, closes his teary eyes to center himself before the pain takes hold. Perhaps there will be humiliation, or both, simultaneously.

"Anything, huh..." Jungkook looks at Jimin through mischievous eyes. His cock lays heavy against the model's clammy stomach, twitching at the new idea running through his mind. Normally, this is not something he would desire.. But this is a special occasion, and the action would fit the punishment and sate the unusual urges coaxing him to do what he does next. Jungkook leans in to kiss Jimin, keeping one palm on his lover's messy cheek. Jimin's lipstick moistens up, once again staining the photographer's mouth in their hot kiss-- a distraction from the way his other hand snakes behind him when he lifts his hips up, grabbing the elder's aching cock. He doesn't do much to prepare more than spread the slick precum along Jimin's length before guiding the swollen tip to his ass, stopping when he slowly sinks down on it until just the head slips in, drawing a hot gasp to push past his lips.

"Do not move." Jungkook whispers, kissing down the blonde's jaw to his neck, taking a few deep breaths as he sinks down further until Jimin's entire length is buried inside. Kook stays still for merely seconds, not allowing himself to adjust properly before he heaves himself up halfway, only to fall back down. The sound of his plump ass flattening against Jimin's thighs mixes in with the quiet grunts in pain and pleasure coming from him. It isn't his favorite thing to do-- preferably on the giving end, but that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy feeling Jimin writhe beneath him in various ways. Supposedly, Jungkook remains on the giving end, whether it's his cock or his ass that is the gift.

"Mmh, 's tight... Right?" He settles his hands on Jimin's chest, tilting his head to the side as he sits up straight to watch the man below from his higher view. His hips show less mercy as he gets used to it, finding a slow rhythm, "And your cock isn't even that big..." he shakes his head, feeling the heat on his cheeks in the form of a lustful blush when he finds an angle that brushes his prostate, grinding his ass down to chase that feeling over and over. "Just shows how much of a cockwhore you are for being able to take one as big as mine, ah shit.."

Jimin's sweaty palms clamor over Jungkook's back and move down to grip him hard at the hips. His eyes roll to the back of his head as his small body is engulfed by lean muscle and a hot grip around his cock. "Kookie, you--" This is the last thing he expected to happen--watching helplessly and breathing labored breaths as Jungkook's taut rim rides him rough. The sensation is more than expected, and much more than he remembers. "I can't, baby, it's too...much--fuck--" Nails pierce slicked skin as Jimin thrusts up to chase the hot clenching hole. Each time Jungkook pulls up, he whimpers at the loss and uses his wavering strength to pull him back down with an audible smack. The weight of the photographer is much more than he can bear, but he digs his heel into the ground to hold what little balance he has left, so hard he's sure the pin-point could snap at any moment. "So tight...around my cock...hahhh." Jimin's breaths grow weaker and thinner, gradually winded from the smack, smacking against his reddened thighs. "I--I--" He bites onto Jungkook's arm to hold steady, watching the room wobble in his peripherals. "Might c-cum in--gah!"

"Hah... I t-told you not to move." Jungkook's shaky, strained voice came out as a hiss between breathy gasps every time his ass collided with Jimin's firm thighs. Jimin's series of disobedient actions didn't bother Jungkook as much as they normally would, as this is a special occasion after all-- especially when he willingly put himself in a faux submissive state just to allow Jimin to indulge in a different way for the night. "Now you'll have to deal w-with, iiit-- fuck.." He clenches Jimin's hard cock tight when the latter bites onto his arm, the rush of the pain making him fuck himself rougher on top of the model. "Now you started it, so fuck me harde-er! Don't stop.." Jungkook growls lowly, shamelessly moaning and watching his own cock rub and drool against Jimin's stomach. With one hand firmly on Jimin's chest, the other smoothes up his neck to wrap around it, applying just enough pressure to put his lover in a deeper haze, ensuring that although he's not sure whether or not he's allowed to cum inside, he will have no other choice but to do so-- Jungkook wants him to lose any self control, and fill him up with shame and fear in his eyes of doing something he wasn't permitted to.

The straps of Jimin's bralette slaps off his shoulders once again, the small cups of it sliding around his chest the more his bouncing partner rubs against it. The momentum and chafe of the fabric teases his sensitive buds and makes them stiff, red, and swollen. So he lets the rest of the fabric fall down his body until his chest is bare, dewy with sweat. "Yes--hah ahh...s-sir." His own confirmation tapers to a pathetic whine as his breath weakens. Jungkook's grasp pins him by the neck, into the chair. The only freedom he's granted is the weak thrust of his hips to fuck the younger man from below, which he does to the best of his ability, growing weaker by the second. He won't stop, even if it means he blacks out from exertion, which feels closer than he likes to admit. Jimin pants heavily and digs in his fingertips. "I'll fill up this p-pretty hole." He speaks with delirious lust lacing his tone, just the way he would want to hear it. "Is that what you want, baby? Fuck, you're so t-tight--ahh! Can't wait..."

Jungkook leans in closer, slowing down his harsh thrusts only to replace them with slow, deep grinding. He licks his bloody lower lip, nodding while staring down at Jimin's heavy, zoned out gaze. He's losing it completely, and yet he tries too hard to please and do as told, and it warms the photographer's heart-- and it makes his cock leak profusely with the immense need to cum. So, therefore, he needs Jimin to break so he can finally give back what he's been holding for what feels like hours. "Yeah, fill me up well baby. Cum in me as deep as you possibly fuckin' can." The younger says with his low, lustful tone, still keeping his hold on Jimin's throat without loosening or tightening it. He inches closer to kiss his face, hot breaths huffing to warm his lover's skin with every grunt and moan that leaves his lips when he feels Jimin's hard cock prodding at his prostate with every fluid motion of his hips. "Cum," Jungkook repeats, deliberately clenching down on Jimin's cock, licking his cheek possessively, "Claim me with your filthy cum."

"Anything you want--ah!" Jimin's eyes screw shut as he rocks his thrusts up into Jungkook's wanting hole. "Feel my cock dragging in and out? Feel how n-needy I am to spill every fucking drop inside you?" His mind truly turns to mush, like a fever dream, losing any semblance of here and now. Only indulging in the very millisecond in which his body trembles to feel everything, all at once. "It's all for you, baby." He pontificates his oath with a harsh thrust from below, scraping his nails until the tender flesh of Jungkook's sides, drawing blood in his wake. "Fuck my cock...bounce on i-it...gahh!" The model becomes a shell of himself, as if he's boneless, thrusting his release in labored spurts, into his young love. "Moan for me, Kookie. Tear at this expensive lingerie and tell me I'm the prettiest man that's ever fucked you raw."

Jimin’s sudden and harsh words takes Jungkook by surprise— he expected the elder to fall apart one way of the other when he came inside, but what he didn’t expect was the spark of dominance that laced his voice and transferred to the way he clawed at the youngers skin. “F-fuck, ah— ow, mmhm...” Jungkook bites back his moans, to no avail when his sides are tortured by the models sharp nails, unable to hold back his pathetic whines when he feels his insides become filled with filthy, thick gushes of warm cum. “God, Jimin— J-Jimin, it hurts...” He gasps, letting himself and allowing a glimpse of actual submission to shine through his shivering body. His hands don’t know where to be, so he does as told and grabs the bralette in his fist and tugs, using his strength that’s spurred by pain to rip it off his lovers chest, while the other hand keeps him steady by grasping into the backrest of the chair. “Shit, I didn’t know you could say such things... that’s so hot, baby.” Jungkook huffs when he gathers himself slowly, unmoving while Jimin’s cock pulsates inside of him. He sighs and whines from the painful stretch of taking it without preparation, overestimating himself and yet relishing in the uncomfortable feeling. Jungkook glanced down at his bloody waist when he lifts himself from Jimin’s lap to let the latters length slip out, a splurt of cum seeping out with it. He hums in both delight and disgust, not used to the feeling of being on the receiving end..

“You did well baby.” Jungkook reaches behind him, catching a generous amount of Jimin’s cum to coat two of his fingers before bringing it to his mouth, licking it clean for the elder to see. The coy mischief returns to his gaze, leaning close to press his swollen length against Jimin’s stomach to let him know playtime’s far from over. “My turn. You good?” He places a kiss on Jimin’s scorching lips. “I can fuck you harder than that. Show you how it’s done..”

The photographer's proposition snaps Jimin back into the moment--eyes wide and dark, needing to feel exactly what he's inadvertently promised. As if the mere mention of fucking his needy hole is enough to make the blonde bend in any which way necessary to prove Jungkook's point. "Prove it," Jimin goads, unaware of the power that laces his tone. "I'm tired of being your porcelain doll...make me your filthy whore." The model wriggles from underneath the photographer until he's free from his caging clutch. Once he's able to maneuver solo, he flips himself over and juts out his plump ass, resting his ruddy cheek against the upholstery of the chair.

“Huh... maybe I spoiled you too much.” Jungkook drinks in the view below, standing up on his feet to properly watch the way Jimin arches his back to offer his body willingly— or rather, demanding his body be used like a disposable toy. A shiver ran down his spine as he replayed Jimin’s words over and over. A challenge, that he knows the model is aware that he can beat without even thinking. He must be so lonely, that the mere thought of having his unused hole filled drives him mad with need, and the temporary dominance got to his head. Kook likes it, the power in Jimin’s voice that is so rare when they’re alone.. but more than present when he is working. It’s like he brought home his persona of professionalism, and now Jungkook would get to corrupt this mask as well.

“I’ll make my pretty doll into the filthiest and prettiest of whores. I’m sure of it.” He murmurs while he reaches behind him to slowly drag his fingers in and out of himself, gathering the remainder of Jimin’s release onto his digits. He spreads his lover's cheek to get a good look of his tight rim, pink and unused like a virgin anew. Kook licks his lip, feeling the hardened texture of the dried cut on the skin. He brings his slicked fingers to Jimin’s ass, giving him little to no warnings before slipping his two digits inside, knuckle deep. “I’m just giving it back. It came from your filthy, whorish body.. but you don’t mind. This is where cum really belongs.” He says, loving the sound of his own voice a bit too much. He loves the way Jimin’s hole clamps down on his fingers as he speaks, and the way his hole becomes wet and slick, coating his fingers more and more with his juices with every in and out drag. He curls the pads of his fingers slightly, finding that one spot that he knows drives Jimin mad— especially if the abuser of it is his hefty cock.

"Mm--g-god. Please, yes." The model looks over his shoulder to provoke Jungkook to give him more. This is just the way it needs to be to provoke--to find that spot again, plumping up his full lips with a whiny pout. "Put my cum where it belongs, please, baby." Jimin presses his hips back to match the thrusts, wrenching his eyes shut to chase the high, feeling even hotter knowing the reason his tender hole is stretched so easily is because of his own cum. He rides Jungkook's fingers, nipping his lip and beckoning him closer with small kisses, placed anywhere he can reach. Through it all, he makes sure his back remains arched so his glistening pink entrance is visible. He knows how his partner salivates at the clear sight of his fingers disappearing and reappearing, hugged by his tightening rim, hearing how needy his butterfly is for his touch. "Finger out every bit and put it inside." The messy tear-streaked blonde spreads his legs wider on the chair, leaving as much room as possible for Jungkook to fit. "T-then fuck me full of more."

"I would've asked you to beg for it, but you're already so good at that.. You really are perfect." Jungkook makes his point with a particularly deep thrust with his double digits, twisting and scissoring to ensure that his lover is comfortably gonna be able to take something much bigger than his mere fingers. "Looks like your cum is the perfect lubricant, just feel how easily I got your pretty ass gaping for cock." Jungkook groans audibly to show how much he likes the view when he withdraws his slick fingers, wiping them clean on Jimin's clothed thigh, staining it with cum. "Can't wait for you to see it how I see it. It's so hot, so cute." He adds, spreading Jimin's cheeks with his thumbs before tugging at his hips, bringing him closer to let his heavy cock rest between, gathering the slick. He slowly drags his length up and down, prodding tastefully at Jimin's eager entrance before finally giving in, sinking the swollen head of his cock inside, followed with a quiet gasp from the photographer.

"Shit, even after all of this, you're still so tight..." Jungkook digs his nails into Jimin's hips, grabbing a fistful of the thong into his hands to tug him down to take more of his length inside, pushing past the thickest part of his girth. He watches the way the elder's pink rim is stretched past it's limit and then some, the sweet pink slowly morphing into a blushed red. "Your body drives me mad, baby. Almost lookin' like a woman with these on." He crumples the material in his hand, tightening the fabrics so that it presses against Jimin's spent cock. He gives an experimental thrust forward, and decides to give little time to adjust before he begins to roll his hips forward, slowly but steadily. He will break his butterfly, and making him cum a second time would be the perfect reward.

Pressure builds rapidly in Jimin's abdomen, causing his muscles to twitch and spasm. His walls clench down on Jungkook as he presses in deep, practically forcing his way in, claiming the space he's worked hard to make. Jimin can still feel the phantom stretch of the photographer's fingers as it's quickly replaced with thick, vascular cock. It's almost painful, which is a new sensation for the willing blonde. He's always made sure to breathe through it all, relax his body and mentally prepare for how rough Jungkook may or may not like it at that moment. It's a roll of the dice, and today, anything is possible.

The tight weave of red lace chafes against the model's fair skin as Jungkook thrusts pick up in pace, threatening to tear if tested enough. As much as Jimin loves the feeling of being as pretty as a girl, he doesn't blink an eye when the remaining heel falls to the floor. "S-slower...just...y-yeah, that's--" Jimin's words break into confused pleas, easing into the scene, calming his body enough to receive his partner, inch by inch. "You feel bigger today, Kookie," he gasps, rubbing his cheek into the upholstery of the chair's back and sullying it with his salty tears. He chokes on a quiet sob and presses his hips back to meet a new thrust, "I almost can't t-take it."

"Fuuuuck, say that again." Jungkook growls through his lustful, breathy words. He snaps his hips forward, rougher and buries his cock deeply to be as close as physically possible to his pretty lover. The photographer adores Jimin's choked words, and rarely does anything beat when he cries in pain due to the mere size of his thick length claiming it's space in the model's slick flesh. "Does it hurt?" He says with a noticeable grin that transfers to the tone of his voice. He grinds his hips forward while staying inside, ensuring the jeweled head of his cock is lodged deep inside, throbbing in excitement every time he feels Jimin clench around him with every audible sob. He drags out the moment, using the blonde to warm his cock properly, still grinding deeply inside. His hands greedily roam up and down Jimin's slender back, tracing his fingers on one of his favorite hidden features of his model-- the prominent, yet delicate line where his spine lies beneath his fair skin, moving prettily with every writhing movement of his torso.

"You know how much I love it when you endure pain for me.." He sighs, smoothing his tattooed hands down his lover's thin waist until they settle on his lower back, pushing down to force a stronger arch. "Feel that baby?" Jungkook licks his lips at the sight, intentionally flexing his cock inside to make a point of how impossibly hard he is, rocking his hips back and forth lightly to create the start of a momentum. "I said," He drags his length out further with every stroke, only to plunge it back in harder and harder, "Do you," And harder, "Feel that?"

"Yes...yes, fuck!" Jimin's cries are cut short by the heady penetration. The jolts burn his cheek against the chair, but not enough to distract from the sting of his abused hole.

Sounds of slapping skin rings in the model's ears--the force of Jungkook's pelvis colliding with his plump ass, deafening. "You--You're so big, I--" Jimin presses his ass back into the next deliberate thrust and swallows a yelp, morphing it into a sharp whine. He's incredibly tender from cumming already, full to burst once again. Only this time, there's more pressure built inside, like every ounce of fluid he could possibly possess is begging to be let free. "You'll make me cum too sooon." Jimin wriggles and writhes, but only for a bit, internally reminding himself to be good. Be a good boy for his Kookie. Stay still. Keep calm. Hands lay flat on the blonde's back, littered with faint marks of possession from months before. They scarred as a reminder, marking Jimin, helping him realize his one true place in life is right where he is in this moment--beneath Jeon Jungkook, moaning, whimpering, begging for pain and receiving adoring love and devotion in return. "More," he echos, softly at first, "Harder, fuck me h-harder..."

"You're whining so prettily, baby." Jungkook praises, getting a proper grip of the model's hips to use the strength in his arms to aid the pathetic attempts of Jimin trying to meet his thrusts. The harsh slapping of their skin coming together grows louder when he picks up the pace, indulging hungrily in the elder's hot, tight, insides over and over with his cock. He wishes so badly that he could stay like this forever and repeatedly claim Jimin's body and make him lose his mind. "Asking for more, when your frail body shakes so... Fuck, it only makes me want to hurt you more." He groans when a particularly rough thrust causes Jimin to clench down, his petite body jolting and his muscles quivering while struggling to stay in position-- trying his absolute best to be good. Jungkook's hunger for more grows, and with it, he fucks Jimin harder, digging his fingers into his slim hips to keep him in place, pulling him back on his cock when he's momentarily jolting forward with every forceful thrust. "Remember what I told you earlier? How I want you to scream so loud you cannot make a sound..." The photographer glances over at the camera, knowing it gets a full proper view of Jimin's face pressing against the chair while he can't see it as well from his perspective. He wonders what kind of expressions he's making right now..

He knows he'll be able to rewatch the content later, but he wants to see more..

Jungkook leans forward a bit, still fucking Jimin, heavy audible breaths of his hard labor pushing past his lips while he reaches around Jimin's small torso, lifting him on his knees. He hugs him close, pressing his muscular chest against Jimin's smaller frame, stomach perfectly melting together with the slender slope of Jimin's back. "Maybe I do prefer it if you scream loudly, though..." He buries his nose in Jimin's neck, kissing and biting his tender skin, one hand on his waist and the other smoothing up his stomach until he settles on his chest. The calloused pads of his fingers finds Jimin's nipple, reddened and sensitive due to the previous friction from the lace, making it real easy for him to find the reactions he's looking for when he pinches it hard between his fingers. His hips never cease to fuck generously, adamant to overwhelm every sense in the elder's pretty body.

With each filthy remark from Jungkook, Jimin yelps pleas of encouragement. The rough pinch simply drags it out of him, quick and loud. "M-more...harder! ...just like tha-aaat, shit..." He doesn't need guidance to say what comes next, meaning it with every short breath in his body-- "I'm a failure," he squeaks, "Cumming inside you so quickly, it's just--ahh!" You just f-felt so tight...and it's been so long, I..." Jimin grasps the hand that balances his flat chest and draws it up to grip tight around his neck, helping to push him over the edge--so close, it's almost alarming. Jimin squeaks, "...I'm gonna cum again. Fuck, I might...I don't know...I..." He loses his train of thought, not that there was much of one to begin with. Sobbing of praise and self depreciation are all his muddled mind can compute when he's fucked this well--now adjusted to his lover's large swollen length. "You fuck me too good...much better than I fucked you, I'm so s-sorr--mmmf--AH!"

Jungkook's pierced tip glides against his prostate, rubbing him raw, making his eyes flutter and skin tingle with the peak of his high. This is new. It's not normal. The gradual sensation he longs to feel is much more urgent, nearly bulging his abdomen to let free. "Wait, wait!" His small hand taps on Jungkook's arm to release him, struggling to pull away. His muscles spasm in a quick alert, and he knows all too well what's about to come next. "It's too much, I'll--" Before Jimin can finish his sentence, hot spurts of urine stream down his thighs and soak the chair he straddles. The second it starts to trickle out of his exhausted body, he can't stop it. Thrust after punishing thrust, spurts are fucked out of his shaking form until he's putty in the younger man's arms, quivering out what must be a form of orgasm. His cock pulses as his prostate continues to be abused, and all he can do is cry and whimper from embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I'm s-sorry--hic. Kookie, I couldn't s-stop--hic"

"Are you embarrassed?" He smiles, "Can't even hold it in when getting fucked." Jungkook peeks over Jimin's shoulder to watch his smaller lover's body quiver and squirm, unable to hold in anything when the younger fucks it out of him without mercy. "Always love to make a mess, do you? Then acts so innocent.." He teases, hugging Jimin closer while he squeezes the blonde's throat tighter, leaning his delicate back against his muscular chest to allow Jimin to feel some leverage. He slows down the grinding of his hips when he's fucked out every single drop possible from the model's cock, just pathetically red and throbbing.

"I still didn't cum..." Jungkook sighs, stopping his movements. He keeps himself buried deep, the grip on Jimin's throat moving to his chin to guide their lips to meet in a messy, drooly kiss. He delicately pulls back to crook an eyebrow, internally beaming with pride at how utterly fucked out Jimin looks. "Move onto your back, lay in your own filth." He suddenly commands, letting go of the elder's weak body to let it fall limp onto the chair, letting his length slip out of his stretched gape. Impatient, he's already aiding him when he notices the light struggle and quivering muscles from oversensitivity-- grabbing his hips to help him to flip on his back.

"Humph." Jimin's hiccups weaken once he's on his back, sinking into the tepid pool of urine that seeps out of the cushion. He stares up at the younger man with saucer eyes--adoring stars swirling in his gaze, slowly coming down from his orgasm. The apples of his cheeks blush an endearing shade of pink, even more as the moisture spreads across his back. It's an ever-present reminder of the mess he made, all over Jungkook's studio chair--the one he sits on to do his work, and the one he reclines in to watch Jimin pose during their private shoots.

"It's wet," the model whines, wriggling to find a comfortable spot on the chair. His nose crinkles at the audible squish the fabric makes when he adjusts his posture, saturated in him, possibly ruined and unusable. His blush dissipates just a bit, because this is the state Jungkook longed to see him in. Perhaps the visual of an alluring male model in feminine lingerie was what intrigued the talented photographer. But, just like the mirrored room, everything must come crashing down until only he can build it back up in just the way he likes.

Jimin loops his arms under his knees and exposes his tender hole to his partner, offering himself as a toy to be played with. "Do you like this, Kookie?" He pulls back a bit more, earning a wet squish from the cushion below. "Seeing your butterfly, like this..."

“Good boy." Jungkook praises, nodding in approval while a long, slow swipe of his tongue coats his lips in the glossy shine of his spit. His predatory stare darkens at the mess he's created-- the vision he's been craving finally coming to life. "I love it, you're perfect." The aching, swell sensation of blood pumping through his body is prominent in his cock as he gives himself a few tempting strokes, placing one knee on the edge of the wet cushion and the other keeping leverage on the floor while caging Jimin's body beneath him. He lines up the thick, jeweled head of his cock with the model's gaping entrance with one hand, placing his other palm on Jimin's thigh to dig his fingers into the soft flesh, aiding him in holding his legs back.

"You've done so well tonight, baby.. There's no better look for you than this.. My spoiled, expensive doll.." Jungkook's dark eyes squint as he smiles softly, a contrast compared to the way he drives his hips forward to bury his cock deep once more, welcomed by the stretched, slick flesh that hugs him tightly in the form of muscle clenches. Even when spent, Jimin does what he can to please. "My messy whore." He quickly builds up the momentum, using the full potential of every silky inch of his rigid length as he drags it in and out, harder and harder, until Jimin's petite body once more begins to jolt upwards with each and every powerful thrust. "S-shit, I love your body, I can't get enough of you like this." Jungkook spits out between grunts, thriving in the wet sounds of his cock plunging into the model, along with the squishes of his small body forcibly rubbing against the wet chair.

The photographer grits his teeth, chest heaving with every shallow breath and muscles flexing to fuck into him harder, harder to release every bit of primal desire to use Jimin to chase his impending high. "G-gonna cum soon," Jungkook's hazy eyes never waver from Jimin's face, watching it distort into his favorite expressions, a mixture of pain and pleasure. "Want me to cover your pretty face with it?"

Jimin doesn't have the power to speak, lost in the trance of Jungkook's cock railing into him at a powerful rate. His aching ring of nerves pulsates with sensitivity, so sore and spent that any words spilling from his rouge bitten lips would be desperate pleas to slow down. Positively not an option. It's their anniversary. Today is a special day--the most monumental day in Jimin's life to date, above any major career move or step in the spotlight. A year ago he may have placed himself before the pleasurable and painful touch of the photographer's hands on his flesh, but that part of himself has been far from erased. Now, in this studio, in their little private world, Jimin naturally folds at the simplest suggestion from the young visionary.

"Cum on my face, baby," he whimpers, holding his knees to his chest for stability. He nods rapidly to confirm, it's exactly what he wants. "Paint your whore--fuck. Cover me in you, I n-need it...all over my skin. Record it, up close. Please, pleasee." His voice squeaks, caught off guard by how badly he truly wants this. More than anything, he knows how beautiful the final scene will look--him, covered in tacky red sinful lace, sticking to his small body with cum, sweat, and spit. Smeared with lipstick. Prettied up and ruined for one man only.

Jimin knows exactly what the photographer wants to hear, and it's obvious by the way Jungkook's eyebrows furrow in concentration, gaze burning into the vision beneath him.

"I love it when you beg like that." Jungkook praises yet again, giving the model another punishing thrust before pulling out, leaving the gaping, needy hole empty for tonight. Normally, he would never pass on an opportunity to stuff Jimin full of his cum-- but tonight, his vision took the top priority over any carnal instincts. He had this vision in mind for forever, and it is finally becoming his reality.

"Look at me." Jungkook commands while taking a step back, tugging at Jimin's bicep to pull his spent body to slide down to the floor on his knees in front of him. He hooks the pad of his finger underneath the blonde's chin, tilting his head back to look up. His other hand works his slick length quickly and roughly, ready to burst at any given moment-- he's held it so well, and he knows he will cover his doll's perfect face with everything he's got. It'll be the ultimate visual of his fantasies; Jimin, the picture perfect man in shambles, ruined makeup and covered in various body fluids willingly, merely to serve and keep the photographer satisfied and happy. Maybe even excited for the rewards that come with compliance. "Pretty... So pretty, and all mine, hahh.." Jungkook hisses through labored breaths, clammy chest heaving as he looks down at Jimin's lips, rubbing the jeweled tip of his cock against them, stroking his cock purposefully to make a show out of the way his tattooed hand effortlessly glides thanks to every little ounce of slick fluids his lover provided. "Keep looking at m-me...fuck, I'm gonna--gah, cum." He moans louder to let Jimin know how much he's enjoying this, and the visual from both their perspectives must be otherworldly. Both men are utterly devoted and obsessed with the other.

Just as Jungkook's hip move to fuck into his hand, they stutter when his orgasm hurls over the edge without much of a warning. A drawn out, deep groan rumbles from the back of his throat, and it feels like his eyes would roll to the back of his head if he didn't intentionally keep himself so focused on watching the way thick, hot ropes of cum began to paint the model's delicate features one by one. His hand squeezes his cock, thighs tensing and relaxing between every twitching throb of his orgasm. He spits curses and praise, moans and whines, not stopping until he's made sure Jimin's skin is an entire mess, glazed with his release.

Silken droplets of pearly cum slip down Jimin's cheek and tickle the pert pout of his lips. Slowly, he licks away what he can, peeking open an eye and giving a longing look of devotion. The salty release tingles on the tip of his tongue, which he savors with a low hum. He doesn't need to ask to know how much the photographer enjoys this sight. He knows that from this angle, he's a masterpiece, commemorating a year of servitude in the most filthy way imaginable. The low glow of the recording camera reminds him of his duty, to show off his final look--a far departure from the stunning, sinful vision he admired in the mirror. Heels are scattered on the floor, stained with a light streak of blood. Stockings are torn ragged, and bralette is askew and hanging loose. With no way of truly knowing, Jimin assumes he must look a complete and utter wreck. Still, remnants of lipstick stain him in misplaced splotches, smearing down his lips and onto his chin. The ruddy makeup appears to be even brighter and remarkable under the luminous sheen of cum that slips off his chiseled jaw. Jimin lifts to his knees and palms at Jungkook's thighs to draw him closer. "Come here."

Jungkook mindlessly follows Jimin's quiet order, stepping closer before dropping to his knees in front of him, meeting his hazy eyes on face level. He can't do anything but admire his work as if in a blurry trance, and the boiling adoration in his gaze is evident.

"I'm here, baby." He says quietly, glancing over at the camera. He had gotten his shot, the visuals of everything he'd been hungering for now captured in an eternal digital memory. A sense of pride and content fills his chest as he looks back at Jimin, reaching out to swipe his thumbs underneath his makeup smeared eyes. He takes another longing moment to just look, slowly inching closer until he finds the model's pillowy lips with his own. He kisses him gently once, twice before pulling back.

"You did amazing. I got the perfect shot, and you looked so gorgeous." He rubs Jimin's bruised neck slowly, examining the purple and red marks, "Did you enjoy it a lot? I had this planned for a while.. And it came out even better than I anticipated.."

The blonde closes the distance again to kiss Jungkook tenderly. A shaky hand cups the photographer's face while the other mindlessly holds him at the waist for balance. The room shifts subtly, and Jimin breathes into the motion, tilting his head to follow the natural part of their mouths moving as one.

"Mhm," he hums again, indulging in the comfort and warmth of Jungkook's touch. He needs it after, always, to feel like a precious doll again. Like clockwork, they come together into a slow comedown, feeling their united heartbeat as the tips of their fingers brush against damp skin. "Happy anniversary," Jimin smiles into a sweet and short kiss. The tentative hold on his neck draws the model in more and he allows the younger man to indulge in his creation. He allows it until the warm ropes of cum begin to tack to the round apples of his cheeks, and the slight discomfort of his muscles begin to set in.

"So sticky and wet now, Kookie. Just how you like," Jimin smirks, pleased he could once again fulfill his love's vision. "I may need some help getting out of this though." Jimin hints at the soaked, ruined lingerie that still clings to his torso.

"I'm so happy. Thank you for taking me so well, baby." Jungkook places one last rewarding kiss on Jimin's sticky cheek before he gets up on his feet, bringing his lover up with him to lift him up into his strong arms. He holds him close, walking over to the camera to turn the recording off and heads towards the bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed, I have another surprise for you." He smiles through his statement, placing Jimin on the toilet seat to wait while he draws a hot bath. He turns to Jimin, reaching behind his torso to unclasp the bralette and discard it on the floor, then resumes to tug at the panties to get them off. Every action of his is tender now, the aftercare more than important to ensure that Jimin is properly rewarded for doing so well and taking every rougher part of him-- so he deserves the affection as well. "Come." He coaxes lowly, undressing properly as well until the tub is filled, and takes Jimin's hand in his to guide him into the water, seating them with Jimin's small frame practically in his lap. A soft sigh pushes past his lips from the relaxing warmth surrounding them. "Wash your face off first, don't want your eyes to get irritated."

Jimin cups the warm bathwater in his hands and stares at the faint shadow of his face cast over it. He pauses a moment, adjusting to the comfort of being supported from behind--feeling small and cared for, then brings the water up to cleanse. The warmth soothes over his soft skin, and after only one splash, he can feel the layers of grime shluff off. His palms tinge a faint red. Lipstick rubs away, followed by other various bodily fluids, some of which need a couple passes before it is completely removed. The work to remove it only makes Jimin appreciate the work Jungkook put into planning such an unexpected night.

"I never get tired of this," Jimin coos, bring another palmful of water up to wash over his face, "Taking baths together...it's one of my favorite things." Baths--such a normal and almost childlike experience. It's something that brings the small model pleasant ripples of nostalgia, like it was only yesterday they first shared the simple experience of cleaning one another. It's centering, to wash away the filth of the day and watch it slide down the drain until it's gone completely. Jimin reclines into the tender embrace of his love and allows him to rub soapy water over his body, moaning gently the cleaner he feels.

"One year," the blonde sighs, closing his eyes, "What would I have done if I never met you?" He tilts his neck to get a good look at the younger man. "Life would be so...boring."

"Indeed." Jungkook agrees, the toothy grin on his face just as childish and endearing as when they first met eye to eye in his studio. He looks back at Jimin with just as much-- if not more admiration swirling in his doe eyes. He cranes his neck to kiss the elder's forehead, gentle hands smoothing over his petite body to rub off tonight's events. "But it was fate." He adds, hands moving up to comb his fingers through the blonde curls after adding his familiar shampoo into his palms, massaging his tender scalp with the comfort of his scent.

"Sooner or later, we would've found each other." A moment of silence follows, all that is heard is Jungkook cleaning Jimin's hair while the latter basks in the aftercare.. until he speaks again. Whether Jimin heard it or not, remains a mystery.

"I would've made sure of it."

© sombreboy 2021. Do not repost, edit or translate.

[chubbybuckydumpling]

Royally Screwed

words: 4.2k

pairing: chubby!stableboy!bucky x royal!female!reader

warnings: arguing, period (probably not) accurate problems, smut, fluff, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, power dynamics

A/n: dear anon, I’m sorry it took me 2 months to write this, I hope you’re not too upset. I changed the original prompt a little, I hope you still like it! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

My Masterlist

The wind is blowing through your hair, a cool breeze that relieves you from the hot summer sun. Your horse is galloping under you, his strong legs taking you over the loose ground. The rays warm your face, a welcome sensation. You missed this, riding through the afternoon, taking time to just live, all troubles and worries forgotten.

Admiral has always been close to you, your first horse and best friend since you were twelve years old, merely a child. The Arabian Stallion slows down to a trot on your command, the high grass tickling his side. You let your hands roam over his dark mane, feeling the sturdy hair under your fingers.

A single bumblebee flies ahead of you, its loud buzz making you smile. The scene around you makes your heart feel lighter, a warm feeling that floats through your chest. You let Admiral come to a halt and slide down from your saddle.

You trail your hand over the horse’s muscles, the short hair caressing your palm. His strong snout nudges your arm and he neighs, causing you to giggle, “You did so well, boy” You wrap your arms around Admiral’s muscular throat.

His scent fills your nose, it’s familiarity never fails to bring you comfort. The animal scratches over the earthy ground as the sound of hooves hitting the floor ripples through the air. You whip around, parting yourself from your companion. A little further away, you see two of the guards coming your way. Their horses are quick and strong, but they have nothing on your Admiral.

“Lady Y/n”, they yell out and you can’t help but roll your eyes. The men reach you quickly, panic in their eyes, “Your highness, you must remain in close proximity for us to successfully protect you at any time”, one of them states, trying to deepen his voice.

“Of course”, you smile at them, “it wasn’t my intention” A lie. You purposely mislead them to have a moment of your own, some quiet minutes of peace. The guards exchange glances until one of them shrugs. “We see. Now, it is of utmost importance to immediately escort you home. We shall keep you as safe as possible, your highness”

You sigh internally, but follow the mens’ orders without argument. Admiral snorts stubbornly, but reluctantly follows your lead.

The sound of birds singing and insects chirping brings you great joy as you gently rock back and forth with the steady trot of your horse. Unknowingly, these were the last moments you would spend outside of the castle for quite some time.

The guards at the gate salute as you pass them. The warm sun has kept you comfortable in the open where the wind was stronger, but you quickly start to heat up inside the walls of your father’s estate. Admiral soon comes to a halt in front of your mother. The woman is fuming as she approaches you, her face twisted into an angry grimace.

“Your father and I need to talk to you, young lady! You are in serious trouble”, her malicious voice hisses as you jump off of Admiral’s back. Your mother’s fingers wrap around your arm to pull you towards her, but a warm smile is on her face. A muscle in her jaw twitches and exposes her true anger. She speaks to one of your guards, but you can’t be bothered to listen for something has caught your attention.

A man has walked up to your horse to pet his head. He is gentle with Admiral, careful and loving even. You let your eyes rake over the man. The typical stable boy clothes are obscuring your view, but you can make out the bulge of his tummy, his big arms and thick thighs. His long brown hair falls over his face, some strands are stuck to his forehead as the sweat glistens over his face. This man looks like an absolute dream and you can feel your lips twitching up.

You begin to walk towards him, a giddy feeling brewing up in your stomach, but your mother pulls you back, “Oh no, you are not getting out of this one. Follow me, now” She drags you behind her and you wish to struggle against her grasps, but won’t dare to resist her. Not at that time at least. You take one last glance in his direction, hoping to see his face, more of him. You find his gaze, stare into the warm blue of his eyes before your mother pulls you out of his view.

A sad sigh escapes your lips, but you promise yourself to go and find him as soon as possible. The way he looked at you, sweet and shy, is replaying in your head, his sweaty form a picture in your mind. Whoever that man is, he makes your insides throb with desire.

Your father’s yelling rips you out of your trance and you look up to meet his vicious glare. He takes a deep breath with closed eyes and when he meets your eyes again he looks calmer. His hand reaches out to your face, cupping your cheek.

“My daughter, what am I going to do with you?”, his voice suddenly sounds sad, “Y/n, you know that you need to enter a marriage soon. I need you to be on your best behaviour, this is about your future. I only want good things for you” You rest your palm over your father’s, “I know, father” He brushes his thumb over the apple of your cheek, “You’re so beautiful, my only daughter. I know this isn’t what you want, but at least let me make it as pleasant as possible for you”

You sigh and stare right past your father, “I already gave my word to marry whomever you choose, father” His hand falls from your face and wraps around your fingers, “I don’t want to hand you to anyone, don’t you understand? I want someone that cares about you” He squeezes your hand, “But you need to behave,Y/n. The men of higher status, they won’t accept an ill-mannered, rebellious women”

Enraged, you rip away from his touch, “I am not ill-mannered” Your mother gasps at your outburst, but your father smiles at you. He steps forward and grabs you by the shoulders, “I know that. Believe me, I do. But these other men don’t” A sigh escapes your lips, but you nod nevertheless, “Okay, father. I will do my best” He grins and it jumps right over to you.

Your father pulls you into a warm hug and whispers to you, barely audible, “I could not be prouder of you, my child” A warm, comforting feeling spreads through your chest and you feel like a little girl, no worries or problems, just love and happiness on your mind. You pull away from the hug and watch your father’s eyes crinkle.

Your mother forces a cough and directs a pointed glare at her husband. He sighs and turns to you, “However, your mother and I have decided to ground you for the next few days. We cannot let your temperament ruin your future. We ask you to stay on the estate’s grounds” This is obviously your mother’s doing. She always cared more about your standing and reputation, but you’ve learned to just accept her orders.

“Yes, father”, you nod at them, “Mother” A satisfied look settles on the woman’s face, hands clasped tightly. “You are excused”, your father rasps and you leave the room, a sour look sneaking onto your lips. Stupid marriages. All of your life, the fact that you will be married off as soon as someone worthy shows interest, has been hovering over you, a subconscious thought that drained your energy, leaving you exhausted and numb. You can’t believe that this dreaded day is moving closer so fast.

You enter your room and sit down on your bed. The mattress gives out under your weight and perfectly molds into a comfortable shape. You let yourself fall until you’re lying flat on your back and close your eyes. Slowly, the darkness and exhaustion consumes you ,hugging you like a warm blanket.

The shine of the moonlight dancing through the window rouses you from your sleep. The light has a slight pink tint and colours the dim room in a nice shimmer. A yawn escapes your mouth and you sit up. The cool air makes goosebumps appear on your skin, yet you feel drawn to it. Suddenly, an idea pops into your mind. Surely, nobody would notice if you left for a little to see Admiral.

A grin sneaks on your lips as you wipe the nasty crumbs from your eyes. Quickly, but careful to remain silent, you dress in your warmer riding clothes, the training ones, not the dresses. Thick, warm leggings and a nice, comfortable pullover. On your way out, you grab a wooly hat to cover your ears, smiling mischievously.

Skipping, you make your way through the halls. A giddy sensation rumbles in your belly, the excitement of knowing you’re about to go on a ride. The door knob feels cool under your skin as you turn it to open it. The freezing air seeps into the kitchen, swirling around your body. Adrenaline shoots through your veins and your legs begin to move on their own, moving faster and faster until you’re running, your feet carrying you over the well known path.

You come to an abrupt stop when you see a small light in the stables, most likely a lit candle. Nervously, you sneak closer to peek around the corner. In the dim shine you manage to make out the features of the beautiful stable boy from earlier that day. His hair is falling free, framing his chubby face so beautifully.

A long sleeved linen shirt layered with a dark vest and brown trousers clad his thick form in such a delicious way. For some reason, this man made you feel things. To your surprise however, he is standing next to Admiral, gently stroking the horse’s strong, defined face. Weird, you find yourself thinking, Admiral usually does not tolerate close proximity with anyone but yourself.

That fact is seriously arousing. This beautiful man being so gentle to your hot headed horse is insanely attractive. Your heart fills with warmth the longer you watch him. He whispers into his fur, smiling adoringly at him. The stable boy’s big hands look so soft against Admiral’s fur, his thick, long digits massaging the strong muscles. You bite down on your lower lip, a sly smirk forming. This beautiful sight almost made you forget about the cold.

Your lungs fill with air as you take a breath of encouragement before you move out of the hiding spot. Making sure to move your hips extra seductively, you wander closer to the man of your desire. It’s easy to pinpoint the moment he notices you by the way his eyes double in size and his entire body freezes. The look of fear in his eyes tugs at your heartstrings.

Gently, you take a step closer to him, but he shies away from you, like a baby deer, scared and vulnerable. “Lady Y/n, I beg your pardon. I didn't mean to intrude”, he stumbles through the words, clearly afraid he upset you. You smile in hope of looking safe and not angry. “You’re fine”, your voice is gentle, almost like you’re talking to a child, “It’s impressive. Admiral really seems to like you”

He shyly looks up to you to gauge your reaction, nervously playing with his fingers. “He’s very beautiful”, the man whispers and tucks some of his loose strands of hair behind his ear. You grin, taking another step forward, “He is”, you reach out to scratch Admiral’s neck, “So are you”

A deep blush rises on his cheeks, warming his skin. You continue talking, eyes trained on the stable boy’s chubby face, smiling warmly at him, “So, what’s your name, pretty boy?” Nerves cloud his eyes, his chest rising and falling quickly, “James, b- but people call me Bucky”

“That’s a real pretty name”, you purr, “Bucky”, testing out how the word feels rolling off your tongue. Lower lip between your teeth, you reach out to touch his biceps. His strong muscles flex under your touch, but it feels soft beneath your skin. Your fingertips squeeze around him as a surge of want ripples through your body.

“I saw you with Admiral this afternoon and I could not stop thinking about you. You’re so good with him, it’s very”, you smirk and lean closer to him, lips right next to his ear, “arousing”. The whispered word makes him gulp and he feels himself twitching in his loose pants. He can’t deny he feels attracted to you, especially in these casual clothes that you’re wearing right now.

He’s been eying you for months now, always hidden away in the shadows or behind corners. He heard so much gossip, so many rumours that intrigued him, but your bond with Admiral really did him in. To see how caring and tender you were with the horse made him crave the same attention from you. He wanted your affections and love, almost like he needed them, but he knew better than to approach you. His family depends on his earnings, he would not challenge that security he could provide. But now it seemed like maybe he could have both.

The close proximity makes his heart race, your breath tickling his sensitive skin. You feel his nerves, so you move even closer, pressing your body against his. He tenses up, but shyly reaches for your waist. “I really want you right now, Bucky”, you whimper, pushing your breasts forward and up against his chest. His breath catches in his throat, but he somehow finds the energy to tighten his grip on you.

The feeling of your body against his further arouses him, a shiver running down his spine. With all the courage he could muster, he looks up at you, “I really want you too” Your hands run over his chest and grip onto the edges of his vest, “Then take me”

Pulling on the leather, your mouths crash together. His rough, chapped lips fit right onto your own soft lips, a result of your maid’s tending. The smacking sound immediately helps you relax into Bucky’s frame, letting out a little sigh. With newfound confidence, he traces your lower lip with his warm tongue, leaving you yearning for a taste.

You open up for him, letting him explore your mouth. He moans at the feeling, licking into you greedily. Little glimmers of want spark in your belly, nipples hardening as the simmering pleasure begins to grow. Your saliva mixes with his, tongues dancing together in an aroused display of want.

Just as you were about to shrug off his leather vest, Admiral neighs right next to you. Bucky shrieks, jumping away from you. You stare at him, a slight fear of being caught running through you before a grin etches on your lips, laughter bubbling in your chest. Bucky mimics your giggling, his eyes crinkling adorably, lips swollen.

Grinning you pet your horse once, but turn to the chubby stable boy to pull him after you. The back of the stable is dark, only Bucky’s candle serving as a source of light. You turn around, coming face to face with the pretty boy. The golden glow makes him look so beautiful, the breath stuck in your throat. It’s completely silent, only the sounds of your breathing audible.

You gulp, stepping even closer to him. Carefully, you take his candle and place it on the floor, close to a pile of hay. “Bucky”, you whisper, “please” He takes a deep breath, but closes the distance between you two, once again connecting your mouths. Gently, he grabs you by your waist, both hands feeling warm and powerful on your body. Your own fingers wrap around his neck, playing with his beautiful hair.

With tongues intertwined, Bucky closes his arms around you to lead you towards the hay, supporting your weight. “Wait”, he mumbles against your lips, reluctantly pulling out of the embrace, “Let me just…” With care, he shrugs off his vest and places it over the hay. A soft smile spreads over your face, a funny feeling whirling in your belly. You take the chance to take off your hat.

“Well then, gentleman”, a purring sound fills the air, “I could use some help undressing” He gulps, eyes widening in arousal. Slowly his hands find your hips, fingers sliding under your shirt. The immediate warmth that seeps into your skin makes you gasp, moaning lightly at the feeling. His digits trace your skin, gently lifting up your shirt so you can take it off.

His hands roam your exposed skin, exploring your body to his full extinct, feeling every curve and uneven spot. You reach behind your back, unclasping your sturdy bra. Bucky gasps at the sight, eyes trained on your exposed breasts. Your nipples harden, once more, under his fiery gaze and you gently push his hands towards the, your body burning for his touch.

The moment his palm cups you, a needy moan escapes you which spurs Bucky on to massage your breasts with more enthusiasm, toying with your nipples. Greedily you let your hands wander under his linen shirt, reveling in the feeling of his soft skin. The chubby rolls feel delicious under your touch, gending to your wishes. You hastily free him from the offending clothing, pressing your body against his.

Arousal and need is flaming inside you and you desperately press your lips together into a hungry kiss, teeth crashing against each other. “Please, I need you so much” He nods, breathless, and gently lays you down on his vest. You catch a glimpse of his tented trousers, saliva running in your mouth, the sight so delicious, especially paired with his big thighs.

Bucky’s chubby fingers work your fuzzy leggins down your legs. The cold air causes goosebumps to raise on your skin. You hear him gasp when he looks at your exposed heat,dilated eyes transforming into a hungry stare. “You’re beautiful”, he groans, his hand cautiously travelling up your thighs. You nod as confirmation and Bucky runs two of his digits up your heat.

He traces your outer lips, your anticipation rising. You hold your breath, hands running through the hay that the vest doesn’t cover. Finally, he leans up and spits on your core, further lubricating you. He finds your clit and begins to rub gentle circles into it, a stuttered breath leaving your mouth.

Bucky trails down to your opening, carefully inserting two of his fingers into you. “Fuck”, he groans, pushing in further, “you’re so tight and wet” He starts to fuck you with them, slowly at first, then faster, his gaze set on you. The squelching noises fill the air, soon joined by your moans. Suddenly he hits a special spot and you arch your back, pressing into him as a loud, guttural groan leaves you.

Your gaze meets Bucky’s and you begin to move your hips on your own, “Please do it again, do it again” Your begging eggs him on and he adds another finger, his strong thrusts leaving you breathless. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, pleasure building up in your lower belly.

All of a sudden you feel something wet around you, followed by a suction right around your sensitive nub. You moan loudly, hands flying into his hair. His penetrating gaze meets your eyes and with an especially hard suck the coil in your tummy snaps and you cum around his fingers, your core grabbing him tightly. You feel him moan against you, but he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, prolonging the addictive high.

Finally, you regain your senses and push him away from you, too sensitive for any further stimulation. You look at him. He sits in front of you, his chin wet with your slick, chubby belly rolls folding into each other deliciously, his trousers tented with his obvious want. A smile plays over your lips, “You look so beautiful like this, James”

He perks up when you mention his name, a shy, but aroused glint in his eyes. “You really think so?”, he sounds so little your heart starts aching for him. “I’ve never seen someone as stunning as you”, you crawl up to him, hands on his cute little cheeks. You feel his breath graze your lips and lunge forward, mouth against his, tongues tangling.

One of your hands drops lower to cup him. He feels heavy in your palm and so nice. A craving awakes inside you and you squeeze him through his trousers, a lovely moan ringing in your ears. Your fingertips hook around the waistband and you pull all the bothersome clothing off of him. His cock jumps free. It looks delicious, hard and slightly curved to the side, thick veins running along the length of it. The bulbous head is covered with his foreskin, a trail of precum has made its way down some of it.

The sight of him is so beautiful, his thick thighs making you bite down on your lip. You bow down, one hand gripping his leg, the other slowly fisting his cock. You watch as the foreskin pulls back to show his wet, sensitive head. With one last look into his face, which is contorted in pleasure, you take him in your mouth, slowly sinking down on him.

He moans, hands cupping the back of your head. You suck on him, yearning for his cum, his taste .Fondling his balls, you become even more hungry for him. He smells so husky, so good, mouthwatering even. Slowly, you take him even deeper, your nose buried in the curly pubic hair. His hips stutter, pressing his length even further into your throat, a hearty groan leaving him. You splutter around him, your gag reflex kicking in.

Pulling off, you take deep breaths, spit running down your chin. “‘m sorry”, Bucky mutters, his own hand now wrapped around himself, fisting his wet cock, “It just feels so good” Your pussy clenches at his words and you lay back down, spreading your legs. “I bet this will feel even better”

Bucky groans at the sight and shuffles closer. He runs his thick head along your slit, coating it in your wetness. Managing to hit your sensitive clit with his cock, he groans, twitching in want. Gently, Bucky positions himself at your stretched hole and begins to push in. He moans, steadily spreading you over his cock until he bottoms out.

Sweat runs down Bucky’s face, pleasure and desperation filling him. He tries to refrain himself, but when you begin to whimper and grab onto his thick arms he crumbles. Bottoming out, his fat balls slap against your bum. Slowly he pulls out again, just to thrust right back into you. His cock is so hard and curved perfectly, he fits inside you so well.

The sounds of skin slapping and moaning is the only thing you can hear, sweaty bodies moving in unison, a play of mutual pleasure, need and adoration. Bucky’s chubby belly feels so good against you, especially paired with the delicious feeling of him hitting your spongy g-spot over and over again.

His hands are all over your body, grabbing handfuls of your breasts, playing with your nipples, holding your thighs and squeezing your waist. His moans and whimpers sound so delicate and sexy, almost serene and calming, but so arousing. The squelching of where your core envelopes him makes you arch into him, his chub so soft against you, yet his obvious strength makes you clench.

His length fills you so good, his hard, quick thrusts turning you on enormously. His fattened up cock makes you mewl, all the sensations adding up into one big coil of pleasure.

Bucky’s sounds grow louder, his hard thrusts faster, more irregular. His cock begins to pulse in you when he drops a hand to your sensitive nub, drawing quick, strong circles on it. Your body is on fire, spasming under the stable boy, your hips meeting his thrusts. You feel so close to the edge and when Bucky grunts, “You’re so good for me, you’re gonna make me cum” you fall over.

Your body shakes, yet you feel like you’re floating. A warm, fuzzy sensation enveloping you, like a soft blanket hugging you close. You feel Bucky’s naked skin against you, his fingers on your skin and his breathing against your neck, but you can’t open your eyes. He grunts loudly and pulls out, but you’re so blissed you don’t find the energy to do anything but whimper.

“Thank you”, he mumbles, his soft lips resting near your collarbone, some spare hairs tickling you nicely.

Slowly, you become more conscious and manage to blink, opening your eyes. Bucky is cuddled against your side, laying on the hay. His arm is wrapped over your waist. You spot his white cum on your tummy; It looks slightly dried and feels a little itchy.

You turn to look at him, a soft smile forming at his beautiful face. His long hair frames him so well, a delicate sight that makes your fingers itch to draw. Instead, you cuddle closer to him and close your eyes. You know you’ll have to get up soon, nobody can find out about this, but for now you want to enjoy this moment of peace and serenity for a little while longer.

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[obey-only-me]

HC The Brother’s and Their “Alone Time” By: Akuzondelivery

Lucifer

- Lucifer can usually control his urges. Saving everything he has for when he gets to fuck you again.

- However he will occasionally catch himself thinking about you, maybe the last time or what he’s going to do next time. When the urge comes he will need to attend to it before being able to focus again.

- If he’s at RAD he’ll take his glove off and put it in his mouth to muffle any sighs or moans. Making sure he’s in complete privacy.

- At home Lucifer Let’s himself relax and enjoy it. Thinks about you worshiping his cock, telling him how much you love it, how big it is, and how good it feels.

- He wants you on all four, with your face pressed down to the mattress. The position helps him thrust into you faster, his hand mimicking the speed.

- When he cums he grunts loudly followed by a lusty hiss. Milking himself slowly into his hand.

- His pride makes him feel a little regretful, but he will continue to think of ways to take it out on your body next time he sees you.

Mammon

- Will masturbate more frequently than average but not at a concerning level. Mammon will wait until he’s in his room, for privacy. He also takes off all of his clothes to do.

- Thinks about you and your lips wrapped around his girthy cock. The feeling of your throat all around him.

- Mammon thinks about you bouncing up and down on his length, and the faces you make when he thrusts into you.

- Just the thought gets him going. When misses you, especially when you went to the human realm, he’ll imagine you moaning and telling him you belong to him. You’re his and he’s yours.

- Rubs his chest with one hand, playing with his nipple lightly, when he gets closer to cumming.

- Chants your name quietly before finishing.

Levi

- Levi jacks off constantly. He’s alone in his room so much so he almost always has the privacy he needs.

- Occasionally he edges so when he sees you he has an extra large load to put inside you.

- When he misses you, which is always, he thinks about how you touch him. How your fingers caress him and wrap around his cock.

- Levi loves the way you give head, making him a moaning, blushing mess.

- When you’re in the human realm he considers calling you for phone sex. Instead he’ll find a picture of Devilgram to stroke himself to.

- Has a degradation kink so he thinks about you calling him a gross otaku while you swallow his cock, or drink his cum.

- When he’s finished he thinks about all the praises you would give him. For being such a dirty otaku.

Satan

- Satan tried to deny his urges, but it only ends up with him pleasuring himself. Will give in eventually, probably waiting for a night he knows the others are busy.

- Thinks about different ways to tease you. Like rubbing your arousal with the tip of his tail while he fucks you. When he sees you again he will definitely want to use his tail more.

- Satan loves imagining your face covered in his cum, watching you lick it off your fingers.

- Moans into a pillow, if anyone heard him he’d be devastated. But thinking about you so lustfully makes him crazy.

- Since it’s his fantasy he will eventually imagine you with his favorite accessories. Cat ears, a collar, and a lovely little tail plug.

- Is into edging and will probably do so a few times before cumming. To take care of his little pet he makes sure you have plenty of milk

- Makes little gasping noises when he cums, thinking of you begging for it brought him over the edge.

Asmo

- Of course the avatar of lust is into self love too. He has it part of his daily routine. After all sex is good for the skin.

- Makes a whole night of it. Candles, oils, romantic music. Everyone kinda knows what he’s doing just from the smell of scented candles from his door.

- Uses a mirror to watch himself, especially the way his cock moves and the way his balls bounce.

- Thinks about everything and wants to do all of it to you.

- Like some he loves the idea of you fawning over his cock. Telling him it’s beautiful, delicious, and how it stretches your body.

- Has nudes of you if you take nudes, if not he uses Devilgram to see your face. Asmo pictures it with erotic eyes and the pitiful open mouth look you give him when it’s really good.

- When he cums he spreads his legs wide and lifts his hips. Thrusting into his hand until he’s through.

Beel

- Doesn’t like to admit it but does touch himself on occasion.

- When he does it’s always in the shower. He wants complete privacy and to be able to clean up right away so no one knows.

- Beel thinks about your lips. Kissing them, opening them, putting his cock between them. Your throat is his favorite place. He likes the idea of you tasting him. And tasting you.

- He’s big and he knows it. But the fantasy of you taking it all down your throat for him was mind blowing.

- Beel thinks about cumming in you mouth and you begging for more. He wants to hear you love the taste. Or you want it all inside you.

- He’ll grunt and sigh, moaning lowly so no one can hear him echo in the shower. One day he’s going to fuck you here, than you can be as loud as you want and everyone can hear.

- When you’re in the human realm he keeps a piece of your clothing in his bed so he can smell you. Sometimes he ends up jerking off while he smells your scent.

Belphie

- Plays with his dick way more than he’ll ever admit. Nothing beats a nap after cumming super hard. And thinking about you puts him to sleep.

- He makes sure to stay as quiet as possible. Never does it in the room with Beel and usually sneaks up to his attic room.

- It always starts thinking about all the soft parts on you that he adored. Your tummy, your warm thighs, even your back. He misses the skin to skin contact with you.

- Belphie pants and moans as he strokes himself. Making sure to keep his hand in pace with how he imagines you bouncing up and down on his cock.

- You whining and moaning from him thrusting into you makes him so hard he can’t ignore his body.

- When you’re gone he’ll lay in your room, in your bed, and pleasures himself. Being in bed with you is what he misses the most.

- Fantasizes tying you up and fucking you senseless. Seeing you weak and drained from orgasms is his favorite and will cum thinking about you praising him.

[elysianslove]

hehe hello again !!! if you get to it, maybe 45 from hand holding + mattsun? m so in love with how you write him it seriously holds a special place in my heart, thank u loads loads in advance ! <33

hi hi hi!!! still not over what you wrote for me for samu it was so :(( i loved it so much so like thank you genuinely. much needed <3 and yes ofc i’d love to!! hope you like it mwah <3

more soft issei for the dash yay !

45. comparing hand sizes, then linking fingers together with matsukawa issei <3

full prompt list!

the most defeated issei has ever felt is not with every loss he’s faced with his team, but neither was it a bad grade stamped on a paper, nor a bad day worsening with every hour. it’s the very moment he had sighed and painfully accepted the fact that he has a crush on you.

it’s infuriating, really, to put a label on it. at first he thought it was basic attraction— he liked your smile and he liked the way the school uniform hugged your figure and the way you twisted your hair between your fingers as your palm cupped your chin in class. it seemed to be just that, physical attraction, because he liked the feel of your body whenever you hugged him and he liked staring at the pictures you posted for a little too long. naturally, his body would react whenever you touched him, whenever you wore something a little special, whenever you made sure your lips were as red as cherries. he could live with that.

however, he could not live with the fact that he now craved to hear your laugh and that you were the one person he looked forward to seeing in the day. he could not live with knowing your smile was the last thing he thought of before bed and your notification was the first he searches for in the morning. his ears perk up at the mention of your name, his heart rate spikes at the sound of your voice. your touch alone is no longer the only thing that reddens his face and twists his tummy. it’s quite literally everything that you do, and it’s exasperating, genuinely.

he knows he’s in deep shit when someone points out a flaw that he could see as nothing else but a virtue of yours. how the hell could he see absolutely nothing wrong with you? nothing!

acceptance was delayed only because he knew there would be no turning back once he had admitted it to himself. it had been a long night of contemplation, of deciding whether he really liked you or he just found you attractive or he happened to enjoy your company or liked the attention you gave him— until he had asked himself a simple question.

would he want to kiss you?

and when he dreamt of your pretty lips on his, he woke up and buried his face in his pillow, screaming in frustration.

having a crush on you meant a lot of things, but most significantly, it meant not being able to sit by your side without feeling every inch of your presence by him. even if his eyes are on the textbook before him, he can still hear every noise you make, from the quietest sighs to the loudest groans of frustration. he can still make out every tiny movement you make, from the shake of your leg and the crack of your knuckles to the bite of your lip. he’s so hyperaware of you it drives him fucking insane.

tapping the pen against his book, he tries to focus on the questions before him, attempting to make proper use of the free period he had instead of leaving all his work to the last minute, as per usual. it’s unfortunate that it just so happened you share that same free period with him. or fortunate. he can’t decide.

“issei,” you gasp out lowly halfway through the class, and he struggles to not lose himself in the way his name sits so perfect on your tongue. instead, he hums, twisting his head to acknowledge you. once you have his attention, you continue and say, “your hands are so big.”

issei’s brows furrow, and he takes a moment to process (while trying not to think about the fact that you had been looking at his hands. why were you looking at his hands? were they not appealing? were they appealing?) before glancing down at his hand, and then at yours. “think yours are just small, doll,” he retorts, and you scoff.

“no, can’t be,” you disagree. the pen in your hand drops as you sigh, fidgeting in your seat till your body’s twisted to face him, one leg lifted and crossed on the chair. “look,” you add, and lift up your hand.

a question mark blooms in his brain. what did— you want him to do, exactly?

at the obvious confusion written across his features, you sigh, fixing him with a faux unimpressed stare, before reaching over to grab at his wrist. his skin burns where your hand touches him, and as you position his hand to lift it up straight, as if he were about to high five you, every single part of it goes numb. even as you let go, the feeling of you is imprinted and issei’s praying to anything holy that will listen that his face isn’t reddening as deep as he thinks it is.

after his hand is up the way you want it, your own reaches out again, and you press your palm against his. your hands are noticeably smaller, fingertips significantly lower than his, meeting just above where the lower lines locating the knuckles on his fingers were. your palm is also generally much smaller, and he thinks about how easily his hand could just make yours disappear so easy if he curled it into a fist.

so fucking cute, holy shit.

he’s going to die. this is how he goes. heart rate spiking to the point of death because his ridiculously cute crush thought comparing hand sizes would be a good idea.

“see?” you say, and issei’s blown away with how unaffected you seem to be. he really doesn’t think he can formulate a proper sentence at the moment. “your hands are big.”

“nah,” he finally manages, and does the unthinkable — before he can think it through properly, his fingers bend, curling in on the gaps between yours, before interlocking your hand with his. he was right: your hand is nearly swallowed by his. “yours are just tiny.”

he wants to say that you’re gawking, but you recover so quick he can barely believe it himself. “your hands are— warm, too,” you point out, fingers still locked with his as they lower and fall to between you. “are they always warm?”

his breathing is uneven as he attempts a nonchalant shrug, replying, “i’m not sure.”

you don’t speak anymore, neither do you look at him, eyes fixated below on where your hands are locked with his. with sudden movement, you twist on your chair, turning to face your book once more. it’s a little awkward, the position, and his wrist slightly aches, but he doesn’t want to be the first one to let go, not when you haven’t yet.

for a few moments, you stay like that, arm angled as weird as his, but eventually, inevitably, you unlink your fingers, shaking his grasp off. his heart sinks disappointingly for a second, until, without sparing him a glance, your hand reaches for his again, and you intertwine your hands once more, this time a lot more comfortably.

when his heart dances in his throat the way it always does around you, he accepts it with a lot more ease.

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.19

The True Heir

03/09/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5,781

Warnings: angst, depression, pregnancy, marital troubles, pining

A/N: There is very little editing. Forgive me. I’m sleepy. I’ve been up writing all night. I’ve also been hurting, but it’s all good! I’m so happy to get this chapter out. *insert evil laugh* If you happen to reblog, thank you so much for helping me spread my work! it truly means so much, more than you know. xoxo

Sunday

Today you do nothing.

You’d opened up your laptop last night and attempted to scribble a few lines for your next book, but all you could think about was Thor, Jane, the babies to come, and where exactly you fit amongst all of it.

After typing Thor’s name along with a few other random words for the tenth time, you gave up and shut the laptop. You’d crawled into bed, bundled up under your fluffy comforter, and bid goodbye to the world as you caved in to unconsciousness.

The fact that morning is here, you find that your hope for today to be better than  yesterday was silly. How can anything ever be good again?

You place your hands on your lower tummy, caressing what feels like a very slight swell. It’s just barely harder than the rest of your stomach. Firm. Despite the happiness that your baby brings you, you stare across the room at your computer and can’t find it in you to get up and work.

Instead you roll over onto your other side and pull Thor’s--that is to say, the one he’d used while he was here--pillow over to cling to.

Thor’s texts are also still fresh in your mind.

Sleep didn’t dull their effect on you or the confusion they raised.

Did they mean that he wouldn’t get an annulment? That’s sorta what you were getting from them. His declarations that he couldn’t live without you and that he would die for you and that he missed you so much at his side sounded like he was also telling himself how he felt. As if he were, not so much convincing, but reaffirming what he already knew.

You reach over and switch your phone on, clicking through to your messages to find that Thor must have stolen his phone back from Loki at some point.

Thor: Good morning, my cherub. I hope you slept well.

Thor: I could hardly sleep with you absent beside me.

Thor: Our bed is too big without you in it.

Thor: Have you seen the doctor yet? You’ll text me as soon as you get a diagnosis, won’t you? I’ll be waiting.

Thor: Loki insists that I give you some distance to rest but being apart from you is torture.

Thor: Would you be very angry with me if I came to see you?

Thor: I have some things I must deal with here before I can go though. Loki is right. I should allow you rest and fix things here before I come to you.

Thor: Are you still sleeping, cherub? I’m sorry if my messages are disturbing you. I haven’t gone this long without talking to you since...I wish I’d met you years ago. When things weren’t so complicated.

Thor: Would you have let me court you even though I am the God of Thunder? Future King of Asgard? Would you have married me when I came back with my people to live here on Earth?

Thor: I think if I had to choose all over again, you’re still the only woman equal to the task of being my Queen.

Thor: And the love that has grown between us is...I will never take it for granted…

As you read that last message, you assume he wants to say he won’t take it for granted again. He’s already let it slip through his fingers, although he doesn’t know it yet.

Thor: Perhaps this can be that break you were talking of. For our baby? Maybe we do need a little bit of relaxation to let our bodies recover?

Thor: And yet, I can’t wait to start a family with you, cherub.

You’re bawling all over again, your eyes flooding with tears as you bury your face into his pillow and sob loudly.

He’d said that he missed your body next to his. You can relate. You want to feel the heavy fall of his chest, the deep breaths that fill his lungs and escape through his lips in a quiet little snore that always makes you cuddle into his side.

Normally, he’d respond by turning to face you and holding you right up against his chest.

The comfort that simple thing would give you right now when your heart is aching so painfully is what you so desperately need. But...you’re so angry too. You don’t want him near you.

The images that flood your mind are torture. Mixtures of pleasant, happy moments now marred by the betrayal and anger that has taken hold of your heart.

You bury your face into the pillow and scream until your throat really does go hoarse. Frustration at the force of change you’ve had to make in the past twenty-four hours.

You’re startled back to the present when your phone rings. You make a small attempt  to clear your throat then answer and the absolute gravel voice you use settles any wondering as to whether your illness is real.

“Hello?” you whisper, clearing your throat to no avail.

“Oh, cherub, you sound terrible.”

Your heart panics. How are you supposed to talk to him?

You don’t want to talk to him.

“I can’t really talk,” you say weakly hoping he’ll take the hint.

“Did the doctor see you already?” Thor asks, his worry evident in the quiet tone of his voice.

“Yes, he gave me some medicine and told me to try not to talk,” you lie, surprisingly easy right now since you don’t want to talk.

For your emotional sanity, you need to hang up soon.

“I’m so sorry, love. I wish I could take this illness from you. Where’s David? I’d like to talk to him.”

You panic again, floundering as you cough and clear your throat to buy some time.

“He’s not here. He went to the store to get some groceries,” you hope he buys it.

“I’ll call him a little later then. If you need anything, let me know. I’ll get it for you.”

“Thanks, Thor,” you mumble, suddenly not wanting to hang up.

How can one person give you so much ease and worry all at once? How can he be your source of agony and comfort at the same time? It’s not fair.

“I have so much to tell you, but...now is not the right time. You need to get better first.”

Nevermind! Fuck this guy. Your heart sinks.

“I have to go,” you tell him, hoping he’ll just hang up and leave you be now.

“Very well. I love you, cherub.”

How do you answer him without giving anything away just yet?

“Me too,” you choose. And it’s true.

Even if he’s torn your heart into pieces, he’s still the father of your baby and you still love him.

Whatever madness overcame him when he’d suggested to Loki getting an annulment was the best course of action seems to have passed. Loki must be right about him.

“Bye, Thor,” you whimper.

“Bye, Y/N,” he says your name, making your heart quake a bit.

You hang up and quickly dial up David.

He answers after two rings.

“Hello? How is my favorite girl in the whole wide world?”

He sounds amused by something, or just happy. It’s such a difference to how you feel at the moment that it breaks you and you sob again, renewing your tears.

“Y/N? What’s the matter?” David demands, clearly now beginning to fret over the way you sound.

You tell him everything. Somehow you manage to get it all out minus one important detail and when you’re done recounting the most horrible night of your life, David sighs heavily and you can almost picture him settling into a deep armchair with massive worry weighing on his shoulders.

“Well, the good thing is, if he goes through with an annulment, you’re to be given a monthly allowance for the rest of your life. It was a condition in your contract, should Thor change his mind about marrying you. But he didn’t so it was moot, until now. You will be a very rich woman. More so than the small fortune you originally inherited.

“I know that money is hardly a consolation for the man that you love-” David sighs again. “Perhaps he said it in madness? He must have been very upset. Caught by surprise?” David offers.

“Even if he doesn’t mean it or doesn’t go through with it, I know that for you the point is the thought was there.

“However, I do think we must make allowances for Thor. I’m sorry to say. He is a king and he’s responsible for his entire people. A baby would give them security. Stability. A legitimate heir would tie them to Earth forever.

“We musn’t make light of his choices. This isn’t a common situation to find one’s self in. For either of you.”

“David, I’m pregnant.” You finally explain, knowing that it will maybe just show him a little bit more of what you’re facing. “I went to tell Thor and that’s when I overheard them.”

For a moment he’s speechless. When he speaks again, his voice is heightened.

“Congratulations! I-I knew it would happen eventually. The timing is a little-”

“I haven’t told him yet, clearly.”

Silence again. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I was so happy when I went to tell him and then I heard their conversation and I-I just can’t find the strength to do it right now. Not until I know whether he wants the annulment.”

David breathes in deeply and then exhales slowly into the phone. His breath is light and soft.

“You’re afraid that he will only stay with you because of the child,” a statement.

David knows you better than anyone else in your life. It’s not surprising that he’d make the leap so quickly.

“He’s willing to leave me and marry Jane because of her baby. It’s possible that he’ll stay by my side only because of our baby and I’d rather he do what’s best for our people than to stay with me because of a sense of obligation.”

“It could be that Jane will not want him. She might keep her child away from the Asgardian royal court. Didn’t she refuse to marry him because she didn’t want to be Queen?” David’s voice is pensive. “This might all feel much larger than it is. I suggest you take some time to really think through your actions before making any decisions.”

“I’m not going to never tell him, David. He’s the father of my child. He has to know that he has two and not just the one. I don’t think I could do that to him. I could never keep him from his children.

“Either of them.”

“You are magnanimous, Y/N. More than even I thought you were capable of.”

“Bullshit. I ran away and am refusing to see him until I get my week of space,” you nod firmly. “But David-?”

“Tell me,” he urges you, recognizing your tone of anguish.

“I-I know that I accepted this marriage hesitantly. It wasn’t like I asked for it and you know how I felt before Thor asked me to marry him. You know how s-scared I was about marrying someone who was in love with someone else, and now...now he’s-”

“He’s married to you, Y/N. Not Ms. Foster. And from what I have been able to see, he does love you. Not Jane. This is a temporary setback. If you’re angry at him, be angry at him. Don’t pretend you aren’t. If you’re hurt, show it. Wear your heart on your sleeve.

“Loving someone is one of life’s greatest blessings. Sometimes that love doesn’t last, sometimes it takes a beating. But you must choose whether your love is worth fighting for.

“You’ve also got obligations that you cannot escape from. Duties to your people as their Queen.”

“Assuming Thor doesn’t leave me and take my crown,” you scoff.

“I’m with your brother-in-law. I don’t think it will come to that. I think Thor was a little shocked and thrown by Ms. Foster’s news. Now that he has had some time to think, I believe he’ll do right by you and when you tell him, your child.”

“I won’t tell him until he makes up his mind,” you insist.

“That is your prerogative. Do what you need to. What can I do to help? What do you need from me?”

“Just be prepared for any eventuality. I’m not sure what’s going to happen at the end of this week. Oh, and if Thor calls you--just make something up and tell me what you say. He thinks you drove me from the airport and have been staying with me.”

“Using me as your alibi so that your husband won’t come looking for you,” David clicks his tongue. “How much detail shall I give him?”

“You’ve got a job too, just tell him you’re coming and going. Tony had his staff install some security on the house after the honeymoon. I’m safe here. He’ll believe that I’m safe if that’s all you say.

“Anyway, I need to go. I have two more calls to make before I can relax and enjoy my break from the throne.”

“If you need anything, you know how to reach me. Anything, Y/N. I mean it.”

“Thanks, David. I can always count on you,” you smile.

Just a tiny one. A very subtle curve at the corners of your lips.

“Well, you do pay me,” he jokes, which actually pulls a small laugh from you.

“Right. Bye, David.”

“Goodbye, Your Majesty.”

You take only a minute to think about your conversation with David before you make the most important calls of your week in solitude.

The first one is simple. Just a reminder of doctor-patient confidentiality. He understands what you’re saying even if he doesn’t practice by that mentality.

Dr. Wilson’s phone call is more difficult. She wants an explanation. She wants to know why she’s not allowed to tell your husband, the King of New Asgard, that he’s finally got what you and he have been wanting.

An heir!

It’s painful to talk about but you tell her what’s happened. You tell her that Thor doesn’t know that you know about Jane’s baby.

She’s very quiet as you talk. She assumes things and you can hear her anger when she starts to ask for what she can tell Thor.

“He didn’t cheat on me, Dr. Wilson,” you explain, hoping that this will ease her anger.

You’re angry at Thor because of the annulment, not because he and Jane have created a life from their love. You’re hurt because he’s willing or was willing--you’re not sure yet--to leave you to be with Jane, even if not for love but for the baby growing within her.

You’re hurt because the man you love was choosing his duty over his feelings for you.

Even though you know that he’s right to do it. Even though you know that you should understand because he’s King and you also took an oath to put the people of New Asgard first.

It’s your duty to put their well-being before your own. That doesn’t mean you have to like it.

In Thor’s mind, his only duty is to his child. Jane’s child. He doesn’t know you’re carrying one of your own yet. Even though that would probably make sure that he stays with you because of the baby, you don’t want that to be the reason he stays.

Proud fool.

“Thor slept with Jane the same night he proposed to me. This was before we loved each other, when leaving Jane was the hardest thing he’d had to do. I don’t hold that against him.”

You don’t tell her about the annulment. She doesn’t need to know how messy this all is.

“He’ll probably call for you and Dr. Alric soon. Loki suggested they get Jane checked so act surprised? But please don’t tell him I’m pregnant. Not yet. He’s coming to see me at the end of the week and I’ll tell him myself then. Please?” And it really is a genuine plea.

“I’ll do whatever you need, Your Majesty. I would like to come and check on you. You don’t sound well.”

She’s very sweet and her concern is touching.

“Thor will probably send you to me eventually. He’s worried but he’s clearly got other things on his mind.”

“I’ll make arrangements to head over there tomorrow. Oh, can you hold for one minute Your Majesty? I’m so sorry.”

“Of course.”

There’s silence on the phone for a few minutes before she comes back.

“It was His Majesty. He’s told me about Jane but she’s not available for an examination until later in the week. So, he’s asked me to come to you first. I’ll be there tonight.”

For some reason, the idea of having her with you eases some of the stress you’ve been carrying with you since yesterday.

“I’ll call and have a car sent for you.”

“Actually, His Majesty has promised to bring me straight to you via bifrost.”

“Wait, what?” You sit up in bed, clutching your blanket to your chest as your nerves suddenly fray and panic begins to build up within you.

“Should I come by plane?” She asks, worried by the sound of your voice.

You can’t see Thor. No. You can’t.

“No. I’ll just be going out later tonight to pick up a few things that I need here at the house. Toilet paper, napkins, laundry soap. I just didn’t want you to get here when I was out, but I’ll text you the passcode to get in.”

You’ll just have to make sure that you’re not at home when they come. That’s what you’ll do. This is a perfect excuse to be out since you need to get the stuff you listed anyway.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t just like me to come by plane?”

“No, really. The sooner you get here, the better. The car ride is so long from the airport. I’ll see you tonight, Dr. Wilson.”

“Bye, Your Majesty.”

Even though you know that you have hours upon hours until Thor brings Dr. Wilson here, you force yourself out of bed and abandon your plans to wallow in your feelings so that you can shower, get dressed, and leave the house.

If Thor’s coming, you’re going to be as far away from your house as you can be. You’re not ready to see him again just yet. You only have small errands to run but you’re gonna stay out all damn day if it’s the last thing you do.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tuesday

Thor is at a loss. Completely and utterly lost without you.

If he was ever in doubt as to how he really felt about you--which he never has been because he knows himself well enough to know better--he knows now that you are the light of his new life here on Earth.

His reign would mean significantly less without you at his side.

Even though the time you’ve spent together has been a short few months, they have been the best months of his life.

If he’d had one of those other women he’d interviewed become his Queen, this life he’s chosen to lead would have felt empty and tedious. Instead of watching his Queen spend her time with his people leading the way in progress.

You’re so eager to be part of the Asgardian populace. They’ve embraced you so fully.

With a sigh, Thor leans forward and buries his face into his hands as he mentally trashes himself for the absolute fool that he’s been about this entire situation.

The fact that he’d even entertained the thought of leaving you.

He wants to cry and tear his hair out in frustration.

Should he tell you that the thought was weighed along with many others at Jane’s news?

And Jane.

Thor groans.

She’s been avoiding him since she told him. He can’t exactly blame her for it. He hadn’t exactly taken the news well.

He had no reason to expect her to be receptive to him after he’d basically accused her of being confused about it. She knew her own body. If she said she was pregnant, what reason would he have to doubt her?

He’s messed everything up so much and he’s terrified to tell you about Jane.

What if you have the same idea he did? What if you decide to leave him in some foolish attempt to have him marry her and legitimize his future child?

It’s something you would do. Sacrifice yourself so that he could do the right thing.

The thought of living this life of rule without you at his side is unbearable.

With another frustrated groan, he gets up and moves to pace the length of the room, ignoring the large pile of paperwork on his desk as his mind moves in circles.

It always comes back to you.

And then you’d been out when he’d gone to drop off Dr. Wilson. He hadn’t expected you to be gone. He’d wanted to see you. To hold you. Touch you. Hear your voice after so much turmoil.

You are his only solace.

Going so close to you and not seeing you has left him with a terrible pain in his chest.

His phone rings.

Thor dives for his phone and fumbles with it as he grabs it off the bed. He almost loses it over the opposite edge.

He literally throws himself towards it and lands with a grunt onto the bed as he catches it.

He presses the button on the screen without looking to see who it is because he only wants it to be you.

“Cherub?” he gasps, his voice an octave higher than normal with the little bit of exertion he just underwent.

“Oh, no. Sorry, Your Majesty, it’s Dr. Wilson. I was just calling to give you your daily report on Her Majesty’s health.”

“Oh, yes, of course. I’m sorry. I just haven’t heard from-” He clears his throat, sits up, and slides to the edge of the bed. “No matter. How is my Queen, doctor?”

“She was asleep. But just woke up. She’s very tired. Her throat is better, but she’s had a fever every morning since Sunday.”

Thor sits up straighter, hand clenched into a fist around the edge of the bed as his heart starts to thrum loudly.

“Is she seriously ill?”

“No, of course not, Your Majesty. But she really does need rest. She has been under severe stress and I’m sorry to say that your constant messages are not letting her rest.”

Thor’s heart drops and buries itself into a hole at the bottom of his stomach. He feels numb suddenly, fearful of what he might be doing to you. The guilt of what he knows he must tell you soon also weighs down on him.

“Are you saying that I should leave her be until she is recovered?” Thor checks, just in case he’s not understanding correctly.

“I’m saying that if you want her to get well quickly, you must give her what she asked you for. She needs rest.”

Thor hates that he can’t be there to check on you. He wants to feel you close. He wants to see you. What if you’re deathly ill and you’re telling Dr. Wilson to lie for you?

You abhor lies and cherish honesty , but he can see you lying in order to spare him pain. Just as he is lying to spare you the worry of all this uncertainty with Jane.

Although he knows that he can never lose you now and even with a child coming with Jane, you are his wife and he can’t leave you. He was stupid to think he could even try. The thought was a sin and he’ll never forgive himself for thinking it.

Loki was so angry with him.

Rightfully so.

The good thing is that you’ll never know how bleak things looked. At least he has found his sanity again.

“Will you keep me informed? I’ll stop contacting her if you will promise to tell me how she fares. If she gets worse, I want to know.” Thor insists, his voice passionate and begging.

“You have my word, Your Majesty. Have you heard anything from Ms. Foster? Do we know exactly when we’ll be running her tests?”

“She’s very busy. As of now, it’s looking more and more likely that we won’t be able to find the time until the week’s end. After we confirm her pregnancy, I’ll tell Y/N. I’m sorry that I’ve asked you to collude in this business.”

There’s a long pause and for a moment Thor thinks that maybe the phone has disconnected but then Dr. Wilson sighs, “I cannot wait for this week to be over. Will you come back for me then? When she’s ready?”

“Yes. I’ll pick you up in the same spot that I left you. My wife wasn’t too upset about her lawn, was she? Only, Stark seems to get irritated with me every time I land on his.”

“No,” Dr. Wilson chuckles once. “She was not upset. Again, there’s little more than her throat, head, and fever on her mind. I’ve gotta go. She’s gone out into the garden for some fresh air but I need to get her back into bed.”

“Please take good care of her, doctor. She’s...well, she’s my wife,” Thor finishes heavily.

The phone goes dead and Thor sits there staring at his phone until he can find the strength to get to his feet and go off in search of Jane. They really need to talk.

~~~~~~~~~~

Friday

Thor is upset.

He’s beyond frustrated by now.

He’s irritated.

It’s a week tomorrow since he’s seen you and he can’t stand the distance anymore.

Dr. Wilson snuck him a photo but you’d been sitting on your sofa, looking weak and withdrawn.

He’s not sure what exactly is making you sick, but he knows that he can’t go another day without seeing you.

He needs to get Dr. Wilson back here and he needs to get confirmation so that he can have something to tell you once he sees you.

He won’t lose you over this.

It was one last time. One final goodbye with Jane and he’d thought she was on her birth control but apparently she hadn’t been so he hadn’t bothered to protect himself from the possibility of getting her pregnant.

Why hadn’t she said anything?! Why hadn’t she told him that she wasn’t on her pill?

He knows it’s wrong to blame her. It took both of them to make this baby, but being away from you for so long is wearing thin and he’s losing all semblance of patience.

It takes some very careful maneuvering. Heimdall is sent first, then Hilde, then Loki.

None of them know why they’re going in to corner Jane in the tower except for Loki. Well, Heimdall knows, but there’s no hiding much from Heimdall. He pretends not to know and that’s good enough for Thor.

Loki is just stepping out of the tower when he turns to look at Thor with a grave almost exhausted expression.

“She’s up there,” he assures Thor, frowning as he shuts the heavy door. “When will this end, Thor? Are you going to keep the Queen away forever?”

Thor says nothing, he’s too upset to speak. He pulls the door open roughly and stomps his way up the steps taking them two at a time until he’s standing on the top floor landing.

He can see Jane biting her lip, pacing the length of the room until she turns and finally sees him.

“Thor…” she gasps, not expecting to see him.

“We have to talk, Jane.”

She looks away, turning her back on him then moves towards her laptop which she carefully closes. She puts her hand up to her throat and turns to face him.

“I will have Dr. Wilson brought in and Dr. Alric to give you the same tests they have been giving Y/N. They will be confirming your pregnancy and once we have that, then we can all sit down and figure out-”

“I’m not pregnant,” Jane gasps, her voice filling the room despite the quiet breath that escapes her pink lips.

Thor’s stomach twists. It’s agony.

On the one hand, the words she’s just spoken are...they’re a celebration. They’re simplicity. They’re peace and a return back to normal where in his life there is only you.

On the other hand, he’s just lost a baby he never had. An heir that he’d been expecting and now can never get back.

He’d made plans for this child. He’s pictured his life with them, the happiness and joy that their birth would bring to the people of New Asgard. The assurance that they would always belong to Earth.

He’d picked names for boys and girls. He’d begun to make a list of nursery items they would need even as he lamented that the baby was not yours but Jane’s.

This baby would have, and had already begun to change his life.

And now this?!

“What?” he very nearly spits.

Jane is so flustered she’s wringing her hands hard, welting them red.

“I’m...I didn’t expect to come here and see you with her and see how fast you just-” she waves her hand as if shooing away some animal. “-moved on. It’s like you were never with me.

“You were both so happy and talking about the future and I just lost it for a little bit,” she shrugs. “I have no excuses, Thor. I’m sorry if what I said hurt you. It was selfish of me and I just loved you for so long. You were mine, you know? And now you’re married, planning to have kids, and your wife is so nice and considerate and even though she has every reason to hate me, she was polite and so damn perfect…

“I’m not afraid to say that it made me hate her. I’m ashamed of it, but not enough to take it back.”

The silence is thick. The air suddenly grows charged and Thor’s eyes shine a bright sparkling blue.

His hands crackle and his eye spits as if full of blue fire.

The sky overhead thunders and the world shakes with the boom. The lightning strikes sharp and fast, shaking the tower so that for a moment, Thor can see how Jane thinks it might topple.

His anger gives way to betrayal and his lightning fizzles out as he takes a step towards her, his brow furrowed, eye full of pain as he stares at her, searching for the joke that this must be.

There is no way that this is really happening.

“You lied to me?” Thor accuses.

Jane blanches, her lips going pale as she takes a step towards him.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lie, I just-I didn’t want to see you with her anymore and I wasn’t thinking straight so I just said it before I could stop myself. I know that it was wrong and I didn’t think it would go on for so long. I wanted to tell you almost as soon as I said it that it wasn’t true, but then you just took off and then the Queen left and I wasn’t sure if you told her and maybe that’s why she wasn’t here.”

Thor shakes his head, turning away from her as he paces towards the stairs but then turns back, his anger returning but full of pain now.

“I defended you. When Loki insisted I have you tested I asked him if he doubted you and I assured him that you would not lie about something this important. What reason would you have to lie?” he demands, almost of himself instead of Jane.

“Thor,” Jane begins.

“How long were you going to let me think you were carrying my child? How long were you planning to con me?” he accuses and his words seem to hurt Jane.

Thor can’t find it in him to care too much.

“I wasn’t-that’s not what I meant to do, Thor. Please, you have to believe me. I just didn’t know how much seeing you with her would-”

“You have no right to be upset!” he booms, his voice loud and it startles Jane quiet.

She’s never heard him angry like this. She’s never heard his voice raised.

“I gave you every opportunity to be with me, to marry me, to build a life here with me and be my Queen. You didn’t want it! You flat-out refused to be tied down by me and this Kingdom but now that you see me and my wife happy, you change your mind?

“You have the audacity to raise obstacles between us because you have regrets?”

“Thor,” she tries again, but Thor won’t let her speak.

“Get out,” he says sternly, turning to move towards the stairs.

“What?!”

“I said, get out. You are no longer welcome in my home. Pray no one ever finds out of your treachery. And should you have the urge to return for any reason, don’t.”

Thor storms down the steps, so angry that each step shakes the tower.

He’s breathing heavily as he slams the door shut behind him.

The storm air helps to calm him a bit. It clears his mind at least and the past week zooms by him like an unpleasant movie.

All of that worry and the plotting and planning. The agony that he felt wondering if you’d leave him when you found out about his child with Jane was the most unbearable.

Your face flashes before his eyes and he knows that there’s only one place he can be right now.

He throws his hand out and a metallic whistling rushes closer before his fist closes around his hammer.

He swings it firmly and throws it up into the air as he makes for your home.

Now that he has nothing to keep him here, he’s eager to get back to you. He’ll tell you everything and hope that you can forgive him for lying to you about Jane.

Even though it was a lie by omission, it was still a lie.

“I’m coming, my cherub,” he whispers, so eager to have you in his arms again.

Nothing will ever tear him from you again. He is certain. Nothing. Not a false heir, or a former love, no doubts exist within him anymore. You are the one.

The only one.

[ohbae-me]

oh my goshhh I just saw the pregnancy headcannons and oml I cant😫

Can I request somefor a couple other brothers? Lucifer, belphie, and Levi??

I love your writings btw 😊❤️

Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy these as well 🥰

Lucifer;

When MC first tells him, he's just going to kinda stare at them in shock for a good 5 minutes

Internally, he's thinking about his own father, his relationship with Satan, and how unsafe the house is for a baby. But when MC places a hand on his cheek, he snaps out of it and gives them a tender kiss. If MC is by his side, it can only be perfect.

Really loves shopping for baby items? Can't help but picture his future with MC and baby as they shop and it warms his heart

The brothers have always been in charge of keeping the human safe, but Lucifer demands much stricter security measures for them throughout the entire pregnancy. He wishes he could do it himself more, but unfortunately it's not as feasible. However when he's around, he tends to hover over MC, not letting them strain in anyway.

Hes always been softer with MC, especially in private, but he just can't keep it to himself as easily once they're carrying his child. He will be much more likely to show PDA, especially lovingly rubbing their tummy as he speaks with them

Works hard in the early stages of the pregnancy so that he can take time off near the end. He wants to spend as much time with MC as he can in the last couple months.

Will do whatever he can to keep them healthy and comfortable, and is extra cautious about his own schedule and work habits now. Attends every single doctors appointment and would drop everything if MC needed something.

That initial fear comes back when MC goes into labor, but he stays calm for their sake. Almost gets kicked out of the delivery room because he's being snarky with the nurses since his MC is clearly in pain and they need to do something about it right this second.

But when he sees MC holding their child and smiling up at him, he thinks he might actually cry he's so happy. Lots of forehead kisses for MC and baby.

Leviathan;

Thinks MC is joking and is expecting Mammon to jump out and yell GOTCHA at every second.

Literally takes him until the first ultrasound to finally get it though his head that he's going to be a father. He's going to be a dad?! Has a full on panic attack when they get home. It's probably going to take a lot of comfort and reassuring from MC to calm him down.

MC manages to find lots of animes about families with babies and he finally starts coming around and getting excited. He is terrified, but knows it'll be okay with MC there with him.

Always in awe of MCs baby bump once it starts showing. Cannot keep his hands off of it. Honestly, he's going to talk to the baby more than he talks to MC. He reads it TSL, tells it about his favorite games and series, and how much fun they're going to have as a family soon.

Buys all sorts of games and series for children. He's so excited to teach his kid all about his interests! The brothers are going to constantly complain about how many Akuzon packages are being delivered, but when they see the cute baby stuff and MCs belly they drop it. Honestly they're buying just as much for the little one, such proud, doting uncles!

He's not as overbearing during the pregnancy as some of the other brothers, but when he's alone with MC he talks a lot about their future family, his worries, his excitement and his love for MC and their unborn child.

Is both terrified and in awe when baby starts to kick and move around. After he's sure MC isn't hurt, he tells all his brothers that his baby is going to be the super strong protagonist that can kick everyone's butts.

Goes very quiet when MC goes into labor, he's terrified and anxious and doesn't really want to have to experience this part, but he really wants to be there with MC and to see his baby. He hates that he can't help more than just holding their hand through it and is definitely crying, but he holds them tight and tells MC how amazing and strong they are.

Is still crying when MC passes him their baby, and holds it more tenderly than any of his most prized merchandise. He knows then that there isn't anything he wouldn't do for this little one.

Belphegor;

Is shocked when MC tells him, but is actually one of the quickest to come around to it. He's all smiles as he kisses MC and tells them that they need to go tell Beel, then the rest of the brothers right away.

He's a family person, and starting a family with MC is one of his favorite dreams

Hates to admit it, but while he's nervous about it, he has a good family that will be there to help if they ever needed it. Knows this baby will have the most protective uncles and be the most spoiled child in all three realms.

He's so smug about it and takes any chance he can to rub it in that MC is pregnant with his child

Becomes very delicate with his nap cuddles. He doesn't cling so tight for fear of hurting them, and likes to have an arm over MCs middle, keeping his human and child safe and close.

Buys MC a pregnancy pillow and regrets it because now that pillow gets more cuddles than he does. But will buy so many pillows, blankets and soft things to keep MC comfortable throughout the pregnancy.

Hums soft lullabies to their belly when he thinks MC is asleep and is surprisingly diligent with making sure the nursery is all set up for baby, and making sure the house in general is child safe

Is the most calm during the labour, soothes MC and keeps them as comfy as he possibly can. Has Beel handy with some comfort snacks and ice chips if MC needs it. His smile and gaze is nothing but loving as he watches MC bring their child into this world

Adores his child the second he gets to hold them. He never thought it was possible to love so much and was proved wrong with MC, then all over again with their baby. Will definitely only let Beel hold them at first, but is actually really happy that all his brothers are there too.

Solomon;

Can't stop grinning and hugging and smooching MC when he finds out. He had never planned on starting a family until he met MC, and now he feels like it's the best possible future for him.

Definitely passively aggressively rubs it in to all the brothers any chance he gets, and is way too smug when they get jealous and annoyed

Definitely looking up protective spells to keep MC safe and potions to help ease any symptoms NC might suffer throughout the pregnancy.

Reads lots of books on parenting with MC, and really enjoys shopping for baby items together. Also signs them up for those birthing and parenting classes

Gives in to MCs pleas to please take genuine cooking lessons from Barabatos after he offers to cook MC some weird food he heard was good for baby development. MC just begs Barbatos to make it instead because they don't trust it at all even after the cooking lessons

Doesn't hover too much unless they are visiting the Devildom. Then he makes sure he's always holding their hand or is close by in some way.

Teaches MC any magic he feels would be useful to them and baby. Healing spells, protection spells, funny ones to make baby laugh, etc.

Finds them the cutest house in the human world, big enough for all the guests they will inevitably have as well and becomes the ultimate house husband. Minus cooking. He'll make sure everything is clean and tidy, that the nursery is out together and ready, that MC attends all their appointments. Especially towards my the end of the pregnancy, Solomon makes sure that MC can relax and take it as easy as possible before baby comes.

He is very prepared for the labor. Hospital bag ready in hand and he helps MC get to the car, timing contractions and gives the doctor a perfect medical history when they check in. Has MC in the comfiest clothes and keeps them so calm through the whole thing. Talks them through it and praises them while they push.

Is ecstatic to finally hold his baby. His smile is huge as he rocks the little bundle of joy. He picks out all the features that are identical to MC and himself and can't believe that they made something so beautiful together

[xseaxwitchxkpop]

NSFW Alphabet: Sub!Sannie Edition

A/N: I've seen a lot of dom!ateez edition for this but not really much sub!ateez, so y'all know I had to do it lol. As always, take this with a grain of salt as I do not know the ateezers irl

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

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

Doesn't matter if y'all had rough and kinky sex or sweet and soft sex, this boy will always be blissed out when y'all are done. He needs all the sweet kisses on his cheeks, his neck freckles, knuckle kisses, and cuddles. Whisper praise to him and feed and hydrate him...and give him a bath if it was a particularly rough session complete with washing his hair.

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

He's most proud of abs because not only would he be able to see (and feel) a tummy bulge with ur larger strap on/large dick, he also knows it earns him praise from you because of how hard he works for them. On you, he can't choose his favorite: he'd sway between your lips and the way they make him shudder, your fingers and the way they dig into his hips, and your legs that he could hold onto in missionary, whether thicc or skinny.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He definitely loves to eat cum, both yours and his, but especially his when it's paired with degradation. He also loves the feeling of you cumming in his ass and it never fails to send him over the edge and wiped out so quickly...he will beg for this. If you have a pussy, make him eat you out after he came inside, it's one of his favorite things.

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

He's really private with intimacy and prefers not to show off...however, at least once, he would love nothing more than for you to take him in front of a camera and treat him as nothing more than a useless plaything for your pleasure, showing everyone that you own him and then gift the tape to his members...perhaps to lead them to a whole ass orgy where he gets absolutely destroyed by everyone on your command.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Contrary to popular belief, he's not as experienced as we might be inclined to believed. He's probably only had a couple of partners because he fell in love way too fast and might have messed around with a couple of members, but overall he's only kind of experienced. He knows what he's doing as a baseline, but it's also different for different people, so he quickly learns YOUR body and its responses.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Honestly depends on his mood: if he wants it fast, rough, and completely fucked out it's doggy style hands-down; if he wants it slow and sensual, good old missionary with his legs laid over your thighs so he can squeeze them when the bedsheets aren't enough.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Most of the time, he likes to be more serious with sex because he views this type of intimacy as people sharing each other and putting utmost trust in each other but every once in a while he'll want soft, giggly sex where you two simply exist in a moment and in each other without the filth of kinky rough sex.

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

I'm more than positive all of them, at the bare minimum, trim their pubes for logistical reasons but I think San probably just full on shaves down there as a matter of principle: if he likes you to be clean shaven down under, he'll put in the same effort for you.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

As I've said, he's a very intimate person, so he treasures every single moment every time you two have sex. No matter how far deep into sub space he gets or how severe his punishments, his heart will always fill up with joy and happiness whenever you two get intimate. He's also very possessive and he feels 1000x moreso when sex is involved which is why his orgy fantasy will be nothing but a fantasy for quite a while.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't masturbate too often because the relief of the release is not satisfactory and he only really does it when it becomes an annoyance or interference in his daily routines. BUT. When he's on tour and finds himself on the rare occasion that he is aching for your touch, he'll take a pair of your used panties he snuck into his baggage and jack off in the shower to the thought and smell of you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

This kinky mf will try most everything once. Some of his kinks include but are not limited to breeding (you breeding him and him breeding you, depending on if he's a service top in the moment), restraints (i.e., shibari, handcuffs), sensory deprivation (i.e., blindfolds), tummy bulge (in him), hair pulling, choking, cum eating, mommy/noona/hyung/daddy/master/mistress/etc., dollification, edging, pegging/anal play, biting, nipple play, and cock rings.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He prefers the bed above all else because it resembles a little nest of blankets, pillows, and plushies which makes him feel the safest in whatever the mood y'all have goin on. He is not, however, opposed to being railed on the countertop.

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

Hmmmm I think a better question is what doesn't turn him on. He's definitely a kinky fucker and a sex fiend, but among his top turn ons are ass groping, lip biting, hair tugging, and gentle pats on his lower back, especially if you're doing it to guide him somewhere. Also the Voice (tm), especially in public!

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Deliberately ignoring him, even if it is out of playfulness and teasing on your end. I don't peg him as an attention whore by any means, but he is very sensitive to being included/excluded and the like, so this would only genuinely hurt him, especially if you decide to drag it out for longer than a couple of minutes.

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

This man LIVES for eating you out and/or sucking you off, whether that's a strap on or actual dick. It gets him going so much so please let him just go down you at any time, any day, nearly any where. He doesn't like receiving much because he doesn't get too much pleasure -- he doesn't make him feel subby at all and that's not something he particularly likes but if you really want to, he'll let you go down on him every once in a blue moon.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

As emphasized previously, it very much depends on his mood, but he'll typically want fast and rough on his more stressful days and slow and sensual on his more "down" days when he needs to be reminded that he is loved for more than just his body, that he is more than just his body. The soft and giggly sex he'd want when he's in a very happy mood and just wants to share that warmth with you, the sweet thing.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He's not really that into quickies, but if you want one or two, he's not gonna put up a fight lol.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Again, he'll do nearly everything once, so yes, experimentation/risk is the name of his game.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

During fast and rough intercourse, he could probably go three rounds with overstimulation but during slow and sensual intercourse, he could do a strong single round or a questionable two rounds because the slow and sensual one tends to be more emotionally exhausting than fast and rough for him.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Ofc the sweetheart owns toys! Miss Size Queen has his own dildos, vibrators, anal beads, handcuffs, and nipple clamps. Most of these things he uses on himself and his partner uses on him, but every once in a while the partner will use one or two things on themselves to tease and punish the poor boy.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If he's being a brat, he will tease you to no end until you have his ass and remind him to behave. Most of the time, though, it's his partner that's teasing him and he might try to tease you back out of revenge. Keyword: try.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

San is loud as hell in bed and there is no convincing me otherwise. He will let out the most sinful moans, cutest little whimpers, and high pitched whines so muffle his mouth with your used panties/underwear or stuff his mouth with your fingers to decrease his volume. The only time he's not being loud is when he's so completely fucked out that all he can do is whimper, drool endlessly for your strap on/dick, and roll his eyes in the back of his head.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He loves it when you make him cry from fucking him so good. The first time he cried from fucking was when you two tried out mirror sex and you forced him to look himself in the eye in the mirror and he was absolutely gone. This kind of fucking, however, leaves him kind of sore in the ass for the next couple of days so y'all rarely do it when he's working on promotions and a comeback so when y'all can do it...well, he won't be walking for a while.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He's a little longer than average, but not by much; he also has average girth. This doesn't bother you, though, as you're the one fucking him most of the time and he knows how to use his dick, anyway, so it hasn't caused any problems between the two of you.

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

He has a pretty high sex drive, so when you're not in the mood and he is, you indulge him in guided masturbation either with his hand or via plushie fucking. You'll also let him ride your thigh if you can handle that or give him a quick handy. However if you both have the same high sex drive, y'all gonna have a lot of sex at many times during the day.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He tends to fall asleep pretty quickly, passing out within like 20 minutes of y'all finishing. If, though, it was soft and giggly sex, he wouldn't fall asleep at all, he'd just snuggle into you and talk about cute things he saw that day or scroll through social media for cats or some cute shit because he's not really tired, just very warm and very content...dare I say, like a cat in the sun.

[akirakurusuimagines]

ABCs with Akira Kurusu

From now on, I’ll be tagging not sfw content as “merciless mode”, so please blacklist it if you don’t want to see it!

A = Aftercare 

The aftercare king. He’s so sweet and considerate regardless of the type of session you two had. He’ll be carrying you around, helping you clean up and showering you in gentle kisses and praise, making sure you drink water, cuddling you until you sleep while whispering sweet nothings into your ear, anything that makes you feel good, he’ll do it. Chances are, he’ll bring you food in bed tomorrow, too. If you manage to wear him out, make sure you spoil him a little too⁠—he needs it. 

B = Body part 

Akira’s favorite body part (on himself) is his hips. I mean, have you seen them? He’s got a nice ass and really nice hips and if you pay attention to those parts of his body he will fucking melt, guaranteed. On you, though, it’s hard for him to choose. He’s stuck between your thighs and your hands, loving the sensuality of both very deeply. He’ll pay a lot of attention to your thighs, kissing them, making a few nice marks, even bite them if you’re into it. Akira also loves to squeeze and hold them, just feeling them whether they’re wrapped around his waist or he’s laying down on them. For your hands, however, he also loves to kiss them, though sometimes he’ll playfully suck on your fingers, teasing you that way. He loves to hold your hands and squeeze them while you two are intimate in any way.

C = Cum 

If you used your mouth on him, he would probably end up accidentally cumming in your mouth once or twice, but when he can catch himself, will finish on your face or chest, or even himself, depending on the situation. Your mouth really just does things to him. Most often, though, Akira cums in a condom, but if not, he prefers to cum on your thighs and/or tummy, enjoying the way it coats your skin, also paralleling the way you likely make a mess on him.  If you ask him to cum inside you, however, he’ll be a little reluctant at first, but when convinced, gets shockingly addicted to the feeling, especially if you cockwarm him afterwards until he gets hard again.

D = Dirty Secret

Akira needed porn to get him off for the longest time, whether he read it, watched it, listened to it, whatever. He just needed something to keep his senses busy while he groped and fisted his dick. But that really started to change when he fell in love with you. He found himself unable to satisfy his lust the same way as he usually did, and anytime he closed his eyes while he pumped his cock, he could only picture you. The way you would writhe underneath him, the way you would feel around him, your sounds, your expressions⁠—when he finally let himself imagine everything he wanted to do with you, he ended up accidentally overstimulating himself, overwhelmed by the sheer desire he had. He couldn’t look at you for a week afterwards, getting too flustered by the memory of cumming all over himself because he thought of you. 

E = Experience 

He’s actually not that experienced, like at all. He’s young⁠; outside of being with you, the most experience he’s gotten is from his imagination, porn, and masturbating, really. He’s faking it until he makes it, and oftentimes, that works well enough. Akira’s a very quick learner, too, so even if he’s sloppy or a little inconsiderate the first time around, just guide him along a bit and he’ll pick up on things⁠—communication is key, here. Slowly but surely, he’ll become more confident in what he’s doing and become that sex god everyone wants him to be. When he gets older and more experienced, he’s sure to blow your mind every single time, even if it’s just making you cum from his fingers. 

F = Favorite Position

Akira’s favorite position to fuck you in is something that you’re on his lap for, or facing him in general. He loves to see your expressions and hear your voice, and wants to kiss you as much as he can, regardless of whether he’s drilling you into the mattress with every thrust, or he’s taking things slowly. His favorite position to be fucked in is from behind, where his chest is on the ground and his ass is in the air. 

G = Goofy

He can be both! Depending on the context (whether it’s Akira or whether it’s Joker), whether you two are in the middle of roleplay, whether the current mood is one way or another, whether you’re in a semi-public place or in Leblanc well after it closed, there are so many factors, but there’s always a healthy mix of both. The first time you two got intimate, there were a lot of laughs, though mostly nervous ones until your nerves settled down. 

H = Hair 

Akira’s got a little bit more of a bush down there, matching his hair almost too well. He makes sure that it’s nothing crazy and that he cleans himself regularly, but it’s not trimmed short or shaved. He doesn’t have a preference regarding whether you shave or trim or let it grow wild, but if you do have a bit of pubic hair, he might grip onto it while his face is shoved onto your sex, using his tongue to drive you crazy. 

I = Intimacy

He’s so intimate and romantic, kissing you with every other breath he takes, regardless of the situation, whether he’s a little rough or it’s something soft and sensual, he’s always holding you somehow or kissing your skin. He always mutters praises and gentle “I love you”s even during roleplay or “punishment”, it’s not something he can physically ignore. 

J = Jack Off 

Akira would get so sexually frustrated so frequently because he was never alone long enough to actually take care of himself, and if Morgana or Sojiro or anyone ever caught him getting himself off, he would probably turn himself in immediately to avoid facing them. When he does get the chance to get himself off, it takes a little while for him to get into the right sort of mood with how stressed and busy he normally is, but he ends up exerting himself a little too much and is totally winded afterwards. He’s left alone with his horny thoughts but can only act on them once a week if he’s lucky.

K = Kink

He loves having his hair tugged. It’s one of his biggest weaknesses, and something that will make him moan the loudest. Tug his hair at every opportunity: when he’s going down on you, when he’s fucking you, when you’re fucking him, when he’s kissing you, anything. Tug his hair, whether you do it softly, or whether it’s a sharp yank. It’ll spur him on or make him dazed, perhaps both. Be careful, though, you might unleash a beast when you do. 

L = Location

He’s split between the comfort of his own room, and the safe rooms in the Metaverse. His room is comfortable with a gentle ambiance, and has a lot of potential for any kind of intimate play. However, the safe rooms in the Metaverse give just enough of a rush of getting caught, the danger of being caught by his teammates and shadows alike makes his head spin.

M = Motivation 

There’s a lot that turns him on. Something that spurs him on very quickly is when you subtly tease him, especially if there are a lot of people around. Whether by squeezing his hip or sending one too many flirtatious looks, or whispering something indecent to him before acting like nothing happened, or eating food sensually⁠—there is a lot. His hormones are on a complete and utter rampage underneath that calm demeanor. He can’t help it.  

N = NO

Things he wouldn’t do fall under the extremes and bodily fluids, so things like watersports or intense BDSM. He also would never smack his partner across the face, and would not want them to do the same to him. 

O = Oral 

Akira loves to give, and that quickly makes up for his lack of immediate skill. He’s intuitive to your reactions and changes things based on how you react and the limited knowledge he’s gained from porn and sex-tips from magazines, so he finds that his favorite place quickly becomes between your legs, using his tongue to make you cum. Sometimes that’s all you do, and it’s intense and mind-blowing and your legs end up as jelly from the amount of times he pushed you over the edge. He does deeply enjoy receiving, but it’s something you have to beat him to when you get the chance, or he’ll latch onto you like a vice.   

P = Pace

It all depends on the mood, it really does. He does have a slight preference for slow and sensual sex, at least to begin, and if it delves into something fast and desperate and unintentionally rough, well, that’s all the more exciting, isn’t it? 

Q = Quickie 

When he’s strained on time somehow, which is more often than not, he is more than down for a quick round. He prefers being able to take his time, but he has to admit, the moments where you two are clawing at each other’s clothes and kissing so hard you’re knocking teeth together as you stumble into a closet or flop onto the makeshift bed, barely removing any clothes as you desperately plead for him to fuck you, are really wonderful too. 

R = Risk 

Akira is down to experiment for the most part, but a lot of communication needs to be involved depending on what it is you two decide to do. Taking risks is on a case-by-case basis, depending on whether or not the risk is worth it. He plays it safe at school, knowing being expelled from the academy is essentially a death sentence, but in the Metaverse, he’s far more likely to take that risk. 

S = Stamina 

At first, he’s wiped out very quickly. He tries to last as long as he can, and he succeeds for the most part, but after he cums, he needs a bit of a break before he can go again. But, like with anything, he builds that stamina up. At the peak of his game, Akira could probably last a long while⁠—long enough to make you cum at least twice⁠—and can go a few rounds, depending on the intensity of the previous session.  

T = Toy

Akira doesn’t own any toys. Morgana is far too much of a snoop, people are in his attic all the time, so he doesn’t feel comfortable having them. He would absolutely be down to use them, though, on both himself and his partner, regardless of what it is. It adds an extra layer to the bedroom that, though he thinks you don’t need, doesn’t hurt and only improves the experience. 

U = Unfair 

Akira and teasing go hand in hand. He just adores getting you riled up and flustered, whether it’s from sweet words that take you by surprise or dirty talk that sends shivers down your spine⁠—anything is fair game if it means getting one of those incredible reactions from you. He likes to tease in the bedroom especially, sometimes playfully and softly, others, more roughly, but if you plead for him to stop teasing you, he might just have to comply. 

V = Volume 

Akira actually isn’t that loud in bed. He’s rather quiet, actually, more pants than anything, followed by grunts and slight choking noises, small whines and finally genuine moans. He sometimes makes a conscious effort to be less noisy, so if you really want him to not muffle any of his god-like sounds, you could always put him in a ball gag or pry his mouth open with your fingers. But normally, his mouth is used to praise you or demean you, to tease you and torture you, driving you wild with how his voice can go from being so light and gentle to sending bolts of lightning to your nerves with how deep and sexy it is. 

W = Wild Card 

He has a high-key roleplay kink, especially when it involves his Joker side, whether it be a cops-and-robbers sort of deal, or whether it’s something of a thief stealing away a royal in the night. Akira won’t mention it to you for the longest time, but come to his bedroom wearing a skimpy costume and start pulling on those acting skills as you seduce him and he’ll fall right into your trap.  

X = X-Ray 

Akira’s slightly above average overall, not as girthy as someone like Ryuji and not as lengthy as someone like Yusuke, but well rounded enough that you can’t complain. Especially when you get to explore his dick and find the prominent veins that made him practically keel over, and realize the slight curve it has. It’s a very pretty dick, though. 

Y = Yearning

His sex drive is quite high most of the time, all things considered, but during moments of great distress, such as the deadline for a palace closing in on him, his sex drive will plummet from the stress. 

Z = ZZZ 

He doesn’t really fall asleep all that quickly, he’s more content whispering sweet things in your ears and kissing your face and telling you how much he loves you and how fantastic you were as you two cuddle, but if he was on the receiving end, he’s far more likely to doze off unintentionally during it. 

[starlight-writes-stuff]

Hey lovey! Could I request a mcyt headcanon thing of how they each are in bed?

hi angel , and of course ! as always im sorry this took forever lmao . hope u enjoy (((:

AYO LOOK AT THESE : smut ! rough sex , choking , scratching , hair pulling , breeding / unprotected sex (wrp it b4 u tap it , bbys) , overstimulation , light bondage , i think thats all (:

reblogs are always appreciated <3

dream :

out of all the feral boys dream is the roughest for sure

it's all his gamer rage coming out

he truly has to control himself  / hold back

because he wants to fuck you until you cant remember your own name

but doesnt want to break you

he’s not the biggest fan or foreplay , only because he’d much rather feel you wrapped around him

but he loves to go down on you

would prep you with his fingers because lord knows you’ll need it

and once you started to squirm he’d get so cocky

“if you cant take my fingers , you definitely cant take all of me, baby .”

so many pet names - baby , kitten , pretty girl , bunny , bun , my little whore

he’d make you cum twice on his fingers alone

and wouldn’t fuck you until he was aching for any sort of stimulation

wouldn’t use protection (w your consent !!!)

the thought of his cum deep inside you , painting your insides … it fucks him UP

you KNOW clay would be the motherfucker to slap his dick on your pussy

would groan at the sound of how wet you were for him

he’d run the tip of his cock through your folds and collect your arousal

until you were begging him to fuck you - and even then he’d wait a moment longer

he’d ease in slowly , making sure you felt every single inch 

and would praise the FUCK out of you

“look so pretty taking my cock , bunny”

he’d stop to let you adjust to his length, but he’d be so arrogant as you bucked your hips

“want more , sweet thing ?”

you’d just nod , the pressure building in your tummy too much to produce words

and clay would grab at your chin so fuCKING agressivley

“i asked you a question , whore .”

he would just ruin you (in the most respectful way possible)

you’d cum for the third time within mere seconds

the room would be filled with the sound of harsh , slapping skin

you moans mixing with his - it was like a symphony to him

at some point your legs would go completely limp from the shear amount of pleasure clay was providing

and he’d circle an arm around your hips , holding your body to his as you came yet again

he’d get progressively less vocal as he approached his high , his raspy moans turning to rough growls and groans

and he’d bury himself deep inside of you as he came , muttering scratchy praises into the crook of your neck

as you and clay started to come down together it would be a complete 180

he’d pull out so gently , watching the way his cum dripped out of you

and would press sweet , tender kisses to every inch of skin he could get his mouth on

clay would run soft fingers over every bruise , every mark he left on your skin

admiring his work

he loves the way you look after sex - all fucked out and dewy eyed

would wet a washcloth with warm water and clean you up while murmuring over and over how much he loved you

the two of you would fall asleep pretty quickly after in a tangled mess of limbs

sex with him is quite the workout

george :

gogs <3

i have many thoughts on this subject yall

wakin up in the mornin , thinkin about so many things

would LOVE foreplay

something about being so intimate but not actually fucking is so <3 to him

he loves every single moment of it

starting from when a simple peck turns to something deeper

george’s tongue rolling over yours as he cups a hand under your jaw 

would do the thumb thing™ on your cheek

his free hand would roam up and down the curve of your hips

then up and under your shirt

the way that your breath hitched would make him sh i v e r

and george would start kissing down your neck and over your jaw to your neck

loves hickeys

and biting you

he’d take yall to some place soft if you weren’t already there and start to undress you

adores the action of getting you out of your clothes and insists on taking your shirt off himself

is obsessed w your titties

rolling your nipples between his fingers

sucking on the sensitive nubs , flicking his tongue over them until you could cry from pleasure

then leaves sloppy , hot kisses all the way down your body

is so good with his hands

knows the exact way to curl his fingers inside you

and is very good at keeping a rhythm that pushes you over the edge

but truly have you seen that boys hands because like

he’s all about pleasuring you in bed

it's his number one priority

and he knows your body incredibly well

the boy knows how to make you cum without even trying

yall have experimented and figured out what feels best

and he’s perfected those techniques

on the non physical side of things however

sex with george would be s i n f u l

the things he would say to you …

and in his fucking ACCENT no less

starlight has a voice kink

god he would talk so fucking dirty

the filthiest things falling from his lips as he’s thrusting in and out of you

he’d be so vocal

“just like that , love ,” he’d pant before throwing his head back

his fingers would dig into your hips as his moans turned to whimpers

the two of you would reach your highs one after the other

but george always makes sure that you finish first

sapnap :

we’re just gonna address this right away

daddy kink

(“call me big daddy” , sapdaddy , need i say more ?)

pretty dominant but not necessarily aggressive

more mentally dominant if that makes any sense ???

wants you so far in subspace that you’re all his

dumbification is so hot to him

“baby doll , darlin’ , sweet girl”

degrades you but in a soft way :,)

“look so pretty on my cock , whore”

“my sweet little slut , taking me so well”

spits in your mouth and holds your jaw until you swallow

loves to fuck your throat

literally uses your mouth as his personal fleshlight

hold your hair up for you bc he’s a gentleman

but would rather have it in pigtails

thrusts into your mouth hhhhhhhhhh

wants to see mascara tears and won't stop until he does

loves to give you facials

then takes 1476592837310982 pictures of you like that

his my eyes only on snap is 99% your face painted with his cum

honestly likes to cum anywhere he can see it

tits

backshots

on your stomach

l o v e s your thighs

and yall have absolutely done thigh jobs

would fuck you until you cried then marvel at the look of your tears

because you look so pretty when you’re entirely overwhelmed by pleasure

your face flushed a pretty pink 

eyes watering with crystal clear drops

then would make you cum again

“one more , sweet girl , you can take one more”

and you’d just nod , so deep into subspace that he words were like spells

how could you say no to him ?

aftercare KING though , would take such good care of you

would run you two a warm bath and carry you to the tub

bc lord knows you cant walk after him

and he’d run his hands allllll over your body , soothing any rough marks he may have left

at the end of the day he absolutely worships you

karl : 

karl jacobs , love of starlight’s life

i just think that he <3

karl has stated that he’s on the ace spectrum

so i think that sex with him wouldn’t be near as much about physicality

its about the intimacy and connection that comes with that for yall

and mans would make you feel so loved ,,,

he’d kiss every single inch of your body

and hold you so close to him as you two were getting undressed

loves kisses when yall are shirtless

because he can feel your heartbeat on his

and they sync up the longer u lay there

would go down on you for hours if he could holy fuck

he loves eating you out , drawing pretty moans from your lips

and is so good at it bye .

he can easily make you cum with just his skilled tongue

and fucks you with it i-

one of his favorite feelings in the world is your thighs tightening around his head

and your hands tugging at his hair as he makes you come undone over and over

you’re his favorite taste in the entire world

sex with karl would be sweet and soft and so so so intimate

it would be so loving

he’d have you look him in his eyes as he slid in

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhnnnnnggngngnngngnngggggggg

and would stay buried deep inside you , not moving  until you adjusted to him

karl’s packing i just know it 

moans your name quite a lot

and murmurs how much he loves you , everything he loves about you inbetween thrusts

he’d hold your hands while you two made love

his grip tightening as he got closer

karl would make DAMN sure you came first

but loves cumming at the same time if you can hold off for him

the two of you would stay like that , chest to chest for a while after your highs

karl still tucked inside you

he’d love cockwarming dont @ me

is a fluffy mess after sex and always wants to fall asleep after

with you in his arms

quackity :

sex with alex >>>>>>

yes

please

he’d be . so fucking good . at everything he did .

alex loves foreplay

lapdances

bc he’s so obsessed with your body

and having you put on a show just for him ?

turns him on like nothing else in the world

lets you show off for as long as possible before he finally picks you up and throws you on the bed

hands hands hands

alex is so skilled with his fingers and knows how to hit all the best spots

has absolutely made you squirt on his fingers and is so cocky about it

has you hold eye contact while he eats you out

and the minute you break it , he stops

would have his dick in your mouth 24/7 if he could

and loves the way you look with your tongue swirling around him

keeps a hand on the back of your head and pushes down so gently

alex is definitely a soft dom

when he cant hold off from fucking you any longer he’s no stranger to tying your hands up

usually with his belt

fucks you in missionary with your legs over his shoulders

but also loves when you're on top

alex is a titty guy

such a boob guy

and absolutely covers your chest in hickeys and bite marks

getting to play with them while you ride him ?? heaven

once your hips give out from feeling so good , alex would lift you up and thrust into you

his fingertips digging into your skin , leaving pretty purple bruises

would play with your clit as he fucks up into you

“cum for me , princess”

loves cumming inside you

breeding kink

just saying

and watching it drip out of your pussy gets him hard all over again

his voice goes so deep while he moans

and calls you pretty names in spanish

vvvv vocal and loves when you match that

“show me how good im making you feel , baby”

[neverminditsnamjoon]

BTS Cuddling/Showing Affection (HCs)

In honor of Yoongi’s birthday, here is my first writing project for BTS! Massive thank you to @yoongisshadow​ for being my partner in crime, editor/proofreader, and providing some of the gifs!! Go follow her if you’re not already--she’s amazing!

Genre: Tooth-rotting fluff, rated PG

Word Count: ~1800

Jin

If he’s chilling on the couch, he likes when you put your head on his shoulder

That way he can rest his head against yours

Has definitely fallen asleep in this position (more than once)

He tends to sleep with his hands resting on his stomach

If you’re there, he’ll fold one of your hands under his, smiling serenely when you rub your fingers in circles over his tummy

If you’re laying in bed, he prefers to lay against your side, with a single arm thrown over your midsection

Will immediately wake up if you move

He enjoys other forms of cuddling as well

Like letting you rest with your head in his lap

“So you can look up and see my handsome face.”

He also loves hugs a ridiculous amount (have you seen those shoulders?? perfect for Hug!!)

Jin will find any excuse to hug you, and wraps his arms around you until he can literally feel you relax into him

Acts of service are his love language

So you best bet he’s gonna cook for you

If Jin doesn’t bring you food (and feed it to you himself) at least once a day, you get worried

You’re his go-to taste tester, and you get stupidly happy upon hearing Jin call to you from the kitchen, “Honey, come taste this for me.”

He owns a Kiss the Cook apron, and he will definitely enforce it

Yoongi

Yoongi shows affection by giving you nice gifts

Sometimes it’s a coffee, made just the way you like it

Sometimes it’s a $1300 Chanel necklace

There’s no telling lol

Whether it’s a four-dollar coffee or something extravagant, the gift is always presented with a shrug and a nonchalant expression

But when you kiss him and whisper your thanks, he’s all gums

“Bad Boy” doesn’t do PDA, at all. However-

He is known to fall asleep at random, and you usually happen to be sitting next to him when he does

Taehyung has an album on his phone just for pictures of Yoongi snoozing on your shoulder, his mouth open

Tae never posts them for fear of his own life, but he’s sent you a couple

One of them is your lockscreen

When it’s just the two of you, he relaxes a little more

It’s a subtle, quiet vulnerability, but you’ve learned to pick up on it

When he gives you a gummy smile after you’ve had a bad day, you know it means “I care about you”

When he brushes his fingers across your back, you know he’s saying “I love you”

When he asks, “are you cold?”, you know it’s an invitation to curl up into his side

His arm around your shoulder is enough to feel how much he enjoys your presence

You toss and turn in the night, but Yoongi is in the exact same place when you wake

“Of course he’ll be a rock in his next life,” you think to yourself. “He already sleeps like one.”

Hobi

Bangtan’s resident Aquarius isn’t always the best at showing his emotions via physical affection

So Hobi doesn’t do any mushy-gushy affection in public

Mostly, it’s just him always trying to make you laugh

Goofy dances, dumb jokes, and silly faces. Anything to see his girl smile :’)

Every once in a while, he’ll give you a colored drawing he made, giggling a cute amount when he sees you’re excited about it

When he’s really, really tired, Hobi gets cuddly

He loves laying on his back between your legs, with his arms resting on them

If he leans his head back against your chest, he can hear the soft thrum of your heartbeat

This sound lulls him to sleep without fail, and it’s the sole reason he gets enough rest sometimes

When you come home from a rough day at work, he holds his arms open to you and squeezes you tight

For a man who’s an actual wordsmith, he can get mighty tongue-tied around you

So he puts his most intimate confessions in his raps

No one will ever hear them, but he utters them quietly to you when he thinks you’re asleep

He goes beet red one night when you open your eyes and gaze up at him with more love than you thought you could ever feel

“You wrote that for me?”

He can only sputter and chuckle nervously in response, but you kiss him and say, “I love it.”

“I love you,” is his answer, accompanied by his brilliant smile

Namjoon

A very loving and sweet boyfriend, as we all can guess

Even being the leader of one of the biggest bands in the world, Joon manages to be a pillar of emotional support for you

He’s always sure to check in with you between practices and recording sessions, or when he’s away on tour

Has never forgotten a birthday or anniversary, treating you to a lovely dinner and flowers every time

He’s never afraid to show his affection for you wherever you happen to be

Sometimes it’s the weight of an arm slung over your shoulders, and a soft kiss pressed to the side of your head

The boys don’t even make fun of him for being affectionate, partly out of fear and partly out of respect because they can tell he loves you so much

When you’re out and about, it’s hand holding

One of your favorite memories is walking down the street downtown, window shopping and judging people together

You’re not sure how Joon makes hand-holding look and feel so cool, but he does

His love language is definitely words of affirmation, but he still likes getting you little gifts here and there, especially while he’s abroad

He knows better than to buy you anything breakable, for fear that it might not get to you in one piece lol

No matter what, they’re always thoughtful

Insists on being the big spoon all the time

So he can kiss the top of your head and wrap his arms around you to make you feel safe

Joon usually wakes up before you and makes breakfast, but on the rare occasion you get up first, he always comes looking for you

Just imagine a sleepy Namjoon waking up and calling out, “Baby?” when you get up before him :(

Jimin

This boy is constantly kissing you, holding your face with both hands and giggling

And he WILL pout if you’re not constantly kissing him too

Always has his arms around you, hugging you from the back with his chin resting on your shoulder

His favorite thing to do, to make you smile every time, is sweeping you along with him for a dance

Even if you’re not coordinated, he twirls you around the room, singing loudly until he sees you smile

“You’re doing great, baby!”

Jimin showers you with compliments every chance he gets

From your outfit to your hair, to your talents to your glowing personality, he’s got a smooth compliment for it

When you’re relaxing in the evenings together, and Jimin is extra snuggly, he’ll push you over onto the couch and lay on top of you

He thrives on skin-to-skin contact and doesn’t care who sees

Because Jimin is babie, and better yet, he’s YOUR baby

He can fall asleep in any position, as long as you’re snuggled up with him

Hands holding, arms around each other, whatever--it’s all good to Mochi

He prefers to be woken up by you, instead of any of the members, because he can get kisses from you with just a second of puppy dog eyes

Will shamelessly flirt with you regardless of setting, and has definitely made eyes at you while he’s on stage or interviewing

Lots of people have one or two love languages, but Park Jimin has all five

He brings you gifts after every trip, and at this point you have more stuffed animals than you can count

Taehyung

Also constantly kissing your face

Highkey loves it when you play with his hair (the man is basically a golden retriever)

He’s known to nuzzle his face into your neck, especially if he’s sleepy

Physical affection (giving and receiving) is the recipe for his happiness

Arms? Around you. Hands? Holding yours. Happy Tae? Check.

Tae is especially fond of giving you his clothes and accessories

If you look a bit chilly, Taehyung will immediately take off his coat and drape it around your shoulders

He’ll take off his hat or scarf and carefully place it on you, even sometimes giving you his necklaces and earrings

Loves doing activities together, whether it be cooking, video games, or being outside

As long as you’re nearby, Taehyung is having a blast

He’s particularly enthusiastic when it comes to supporting you in your career and passions

When you burst through the door yelling that you’ve gotten a promotion, Tae is all shrieking noises and throwing shoes

If you start a new hobby, Tae has pictures of whatever it is and has definitely shown them to everyone who will look

“Isn’t she great?”

When you’re alone together, he always serenades you

No matter the music you’re jamming to, Taehyung is dancing around you and singing it to you at full volume

When he’s sleepy or feeling down, Tae’s favorite way to snuggle is the two of you laying down facing each other

That way you can run your hands through his hair and he can whisper sweet nothings to you

Jungkook

Enjoys receiving affection more than giving, unless you’re completely alone

If it’s just the two of you, Koo will make grabby hands for you to come sit on his lap while he’s at his computer

He’ll pick up takeout and pat the seat next to him, asking you join him for dinner

His hands are literally always in your hair

Brushing, twirling, stroking

Sings to you ALL. THE. TIME.

Sometimes absentmindedly, but other times he’ll show you a song idea and sing it to you shyly

He laughs and blushes a little when you praise him for it

Koo loves drawing on your arms, if you’ll let him, because it reminds you of him

When you’re around others, he isn’t as lovey-dovey, but you notice a slight pout in his lips if you aren’t giving him enough attention

This can be quickly relieved by bumping your nose into his neck, or squeezing his arm gently

But the best part of Jungkook’s affection for you? The way you know he REALLY cares about you?

Homeboy actually responds to your texts.

I know, I can’t believe it either

Koo has been seen many times pulling his phone out during a break in practice and smiling to himself as he replies to your memes and check-ins

The rest of the guys clown the shit out of him for being so babie with you, but he takes it like a champ

Because you’re his girl, and he loves you so much

[cxptain-carol]

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐮

⇢ summary: izuku won’t let you feel bad about yourself. not on his watch. lucky for the both of you, out of all the routes he could choose to boost your self-confidence, he picks one that leaves you breathless.

⇢ pairing: midoriya izuku x reader

⇢ word count: 2.5k

⇢ warnings: cursing, insecurities, midoriya kisses your entire body

⇢ genre: fluff but spicy

⇢ no pronouns used (however, reader is compared to girls) and no race implied

⇢ a/n: i’ve never written anything like this before so i hope you like it! deku is a little ooc in this but i just made him less shy lol - this was totally self-indulgent but i tried to make y/n’s insecurities pretty universal and not too specific: so if you have hip dips or stretch marks, this one’s for you :)

“And, of course, she’s fucking perfect,” you muttered under your breath, scrolling through pictures of the new hero Izuku had been excitedly rambling about.

The fluffy green head laying sideways in your lap shifted slightly before Izuku rolled over completely and stared up at your face. It was painfully silent for a few moments before you set your phone down and stared back at him, your fingers resuming their raking through his hair. His shocked expression turned soft as he looked into your eyes.

“What?” You knew he could sense a change in your attitude.

“Did I… say something?” Izuku asked, still looking concerned.

“No, I’m not mad or anything,” you quickly reassured him. “I was just looking up, um — what did you say her name was again?”

A strong hand took hold of your wrist and you stopped stroking his hair. You tensed up in surprise before Izuku slowly sat up from his resting spot on your legs and settled himself in front of you, now gently holding your hand.

“Now my legs are freezing,” you pouted, reaching for a blanket on the bed and throwing it over your now cold skin. When you were comfortable again, you turned back to your boyfriend who looked like he was about to cry.

“No, no, no, baby. I’m fine, it was just a comment, I’m… perfectly happy with myself.” You smiled in a way that did little to convince him.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice taking on a softer tone. “Don’t you know how beautiful you are?”

You swallowed hard. Trying to collect your thoughts, you reached out and tugged on Izuku’s sweatshirt strings.

“It’s not that I don’t, because I do, you always make sure of that, right? But it’s kinda hard to feel good about yourself in the hero field,” you paused. “With all the girls, well, being totally gorgeous.”

Izuku squeezed your hand. “You’re gorgeous too, Y/N. I mean, you know much I hate when guys post online comments about you but every one I’ve seen has been positive. You’re still young but the public already thinks you’re perfect.”

You could feel your heart sinking at the sound of the pain in his voice. He was right: the public did love you, but what did that matter when you didn’t fully love yourself?

“It’s the little things, baby. Like just standing in the mirror and you can see everything that you don’t like. Like my smile lines, or my nose, or these damn-” You cut yourself off when Izuku moved to your side, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to hear me be mean to myself,” you said quietly. You had merely a moment to savor the feeling of his warm breath against your neck before you were held in Izuku’s arms and placed in his lap.

“You are-” he stopped to kiss your collarbones, “the most-” the side of your jaw, “beautiful-” your forehead, “person that I’ve ever seen.”

He placed the last kiss on your lips and you gladly returned the favor, lightly bringing him into another with your hand at the back of his head.

He broke the kiss, slightly red in the face as he took your other hand in his. “I’m being serious,” he said, blinking his innocent green eyes while gently kissing your knuckles.

“I know,” you chuckled, not even trying to suppress the swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

“Do you want me to prove it to you?” He offered, pulling his lips off of the tips of your fingers. Your face burned hotter at the sight of him, but you tried to keep your composure.

“I don’t know if I like the way you’re suggesting that, ‘Zuku,” you joked, trying to pry your eyes away from the sight of his soft lips wrapped around the side of your index finger.

You squeaked as he swiftly rolled over, laying you down on the cold side of the bed as he landed on top. Your legs were parted enough for him to lay in between them and he propped himself up on his forearms to make sure he wasn’t crushing you. A soft giggle left your lips at how sweet he was, and you happily stared into his pretty green eyes from below him before moving your hands to cup his freckled cheeks and pull him forward to kiss the tip of his nose.

He blushed deep red and quickly hid his face in your neck, prompting you to laugh and wrap your arms around him, playing with his hair. The feeling of his warm and slightly wet lips pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses along the side of your neck made you halt your movements and you hummed in delight, your hands reaching out to take hold of his biceps to keep yourself steady.

“You’re so fucking cute,” you mumbled, your body practically melting into the sheets. Everything about Izuku was always so warm and comforting, but in moments like this, you really felt loved.

He pulled his lips off of your neck and gazed down at you lovingly, his soft green curls falling messily around his head from your view under him. He rolled over onto his back beside you, one arm still bent and keeping him propped up while the other reached upwards for him to rake his fingers through his hair. He tilted his head back, his scarred hand pushing the green strands away from his face. You watched intently, subconsciously chewing your lip.

Izuku looked over and blushed at the sight of you, with your bottom lip between your teeth and your chest rhythmically rising and falling. It made his heart race.

“D-Don’t look at me like that, Y/N.”

You laughed, curling up on your side to stare at him. “I’m sorry, you just looked… hot.” The red on his cheeks darkened.

Taking advantage of his vulnerable state, you crawled over to his spot on the bed and tried to pull him up straighter before giving up and straddling his thighs. He chuckled at your futile attempt to lift him up and held you in place on his lap with one hand while using the other to push himself up fully.

The joy of the moment made your face break out into a grin before you threw your arms around Izuku again and gently slotted your lips against his. It was a bit sloppy but for some reason you preferred it that way; your lips were wet when you pulled away, tugging Izuku’s bottom lip between your teeth. His mind seemed to go blank for a second before he flipped the both of you over again, trapping you under him as he pleaded with you with his eyes.

“This is supposed to be about you, okay? I want to make you feel better,” he said softly, cupping the side of your face with his hand. You turned your head and told hold of it, bringing his scars up to your lips and kissing them gently.

“Y/N…” Izuku reluctantly pulled his hand away, but at the sight of your disappointed face, he leaned down to press a short, but deep, kiss to your lips.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N,” he breathed out, taking one of your hands in his and kissing it gently. His lips lingered for a moment longer on the little scar on the back of your hand that you had retained for years. He trailed his kisses along your arm, whispering quiet little ‘I love you’s and stopping only to cutely squish his cheek against your skin. You watched in awe as your heart melted at the sight of his half-lidded eyes that were diligently focused on the spots he kissed, and you found yourself a bit embarrassed when he caught you staring as he moved to show the same love to your other side.

You watched him adoringly as Izuku sat you up, strong hands pulling you closer by your shoulders as he littered kisses along your collarbones and chest, softly moving your worn-out t-shirt to the side so he could reach every patch of your warm skin.

You could sense him hesitating as he traveled lower, kissing you over the fabric of your shirt before he reached the exposed skin below the hem. Your cheeks burned as he looked up at you before lifting it up just enough for him to graze his lips against your abdomen and leave a few soft kisses on your skin.

“You have such a cute tummy, Y/N,” he mumbled, almost sleepily, before blowing a cold air all over your soft skin, making you giggle and squirm. You felt him begin to move lower and hastily reached out to tangle your hands in his curls, just wanting to feel any part of him as he caressed you.

“Do you want me to stop?” Izuku halted when he felt your hands in his hair, unsure if you were trying to stop him or not. You shook your head and finally got a good look at him; his face was completely red despite how sure of himself he seemed to you. It was simply adorable.

He continued, his hands gripping your thighs as he brought his lips to your skin, pushing the waistband of your shorts down to see even more of you. You were tempted to pull your hands away from his hair so you could hide your face — him kissing the soft skin of your hips and the sound of his satisfied humming was too much for you.

“And these,” you shyly looked down to see Izuku rubbing small circles into your hip dips with his thumbs, “these are beautiful too, okay?”

You nodded and his eyes locked onto yours tenderly, as if you agreeing with him had made him all soft. Knowing him, it probably did.

His pretty green eyes focused once again on his handling of you, and your fingers contently scratched his scalp as he kissed you deeply. You started to hum serenely but without warning, Izuku readjusted his hands and gripped your hips lazily before capturing the little bump at the top of the dip with his lips, sucking lightly as he kissed it. An involuntary whimper left your lips as he moved to your other side, wrapping his lips around the other and giving it the same treatment.

You writhed under his touch, shyly tugging on his hair to bring his face up to your lips so you could kiss him sweetly. He smiled into the kiss, still holding your hips against him and running one hand up and down your thigh. You broke away from him to gently kiss the freckles on his cheek and sigh, resting your head on his shoulder as one of your hands carded through his green looks.

“I’m not done yet, baby,” Izuku said gently, kissing the shell of your ear as you melted into him again, overwhelmed by how much he had already affected with you, but completely succumbing to it. You were slow to let him go, but relished in the sight of him returning to his place much further down your body and relaxed into the feeling of his hands on you once more.

“I saw you,” Izuku muttered, resting his face sideways on your exposed midriff as his innocent eyes blinked up at you. “Yesterday, staring at your thighs in the mirror. I’ve seen you do that a lot actually.” You nodded, tucking some of his hair behind his ear.

“I just don’t like them sometimes. And it kinda sucks when I can see other people show off their thighs in their hero outfits; like Momo. She’s so hot,” you admitted, before gasping as Izuku moved abruptly.

He pushed the fabric of your loose shorts up and kneaded your thighs in his hands, a sort of determined fervor in his eyes. You whimpered again, reaching down to hold his hands in yours as he began kissing your skin, paying extra attention to the raised stripes of your stretch marks which he ran his lips over a few times while looking up at your blissful expression.

“I swear, Y/N, you’re completely beautiful and I’ve never wanted you to look like anyone else. With your pretty hands and your cute tummy and these perfects hips and thighs,” he trailed off and his face flushed as he realized what he was saying, “just please, don’t ever forget that you’re wonderful, and pretty, and mi-”

“Midoriya?”

You both must have missed the sound of knocking on the door because you suddenly found yourselves in the company of a very innocent-looking Shouto, who had seemingly just stepped into the doorway. He froze seeing the compromising position you two were in, specifically Izuku who was still holding you by your thighs. He didn’t waste a second before turning on his heel and walking right out the door, softly closing it behind him.

You and Izuku both stared at the spot at which Shouto had stood before looking back at each other. At the sight of Izuku’s horrified expression, you bursted out laughing, stroking his soft green hair and guiding him back up so that you could bury him in a hug.

“Oh my god, I feel so bad!” You exclaimed through giggles, holding a completely stiff Izuku in your arms.

“Are you gonna be okay, baby?” Your laughter died down and you finally looked at him: his mortified face softened a bit as he looked at you, but his cheeks remained pink.

“It’s okay, we can go apologize to him later,” you cooed, pecking his cheeks as he finally began to reciprocate your hug. You took advantage of the moment to roll your intertwined bodies over so that Izuku was under you again.

“First, I wanna do all that sweet stuff you did to me,” you took his scarred hand into your own as you looked down at him softly, “to you.”

“But… but, Y/N, what if somebody else walks in?” In his voice was a hint of helplessness and you leaned down to press a lingering kiss to his forehead to try and put him at ease. His gaze finally shifted from the doorway and onto you—and the way he looked at you just had its way of making you feel wonderful every time.

“I can lock the door,” you reassured him, “but right now, I… I just want to kiss you.” Your face burned at the honesty of your own words.

“And I’m starting with these pretty hands,” you said quietly, bringing the back of his hand up for you to kiss it, making sure to trace his scars with your lips.

If it was even possible, Izuku blushed harder than you had ever seen. Whatever he had been planning to say got caught in his throat and he stammered, as if mesmerized by you just kissing his hand.

“Thank you though,” you whispered, “for everything you said.” You focused on kissing him but felt tears prick in the back of your eyes. “And for loving me.”

“Now let me show you how much I love you, too.”

[chubbybuckydumpling]

Christmas Biscuits

words: 2287

warnings: swear words, a tiny bit of angst, mentions of death (this sounds kinda bad, but it’s actually really fluffy)

A/n: this is my first ever fic and I’m really insecure about my writing. Please be kind 🥺💖 (gif is not mine)

Writing challenge by @mypoisonedvine

“This one, daddy, this one!” Bucky chuckles as he looks towards his toddler, who sits on the kitchen isle in front of a box full of  biscuit cutters. The three year old holds up a huge reindeer cutter and smiles toothily at her father.

“Dude, it's way too big. We won't even be able to fit four of those on one baking tray. Why do we even have one this large?” The teenager stands to the left of her sister and looks at Bucky with a questioning gaze. Her hair is lazily put into a low bun and an ugly Christmas jumper adorns her body.

“Eileen, don't call your sister 'dude'”, the teen rolls her eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh, “Whatever” He makes his way towards the toddler and gently takes the reindeer out of her hands, while sending his oldest a warning look. “You heard your sister, baby. Let's choose some smaller ones” he explains and pulls the box towards himself.

His eyes fall on a Mickey Mouse biscuit cutter and a smile takes over his face. He grabs the desired object and places it on the isle, “When your sister was in kindergarten she made this all by herself. We use these every year. They are very special to me”. The little girl holds up the cutter to inspect it and then looks to Bucky. “Special?”, she asks.

He nods and watches as his youngest daughter holds the cutter towards her big sister. “We use this one, yes Isla?” Eileen smiles, accepts the object and places it on the counter next to the dough. She shakes her head lightly and grins at her father, “I can't believe you've kept this all these years”

Bucky shrugs and continues searching the box for appropriate biscuit cutters. “You gifted this to me, of course I kept it. You looked so proud when you brought this home, I'll never forget. Also, I'm pretty sure your father would have beheaded me if I even thought about throwing this away”, he pauses, just for some seconds, “We were probably as proud as you, if not more”. Bucky fetches a star and a smaller reindeer biscuit cutter out of the box and hands them to the toddler.

Eileen hums before turning towards her little sister, “Do you like ones dad chose, Sarah?”. She nods and holds her arms up, silently demanding to be carried. The older girl obliges and puts the toddler on her hip, so that they can add the new cutters to the counter.

Bucky joins his children with another biscuit cutter and the dough in his hands. He places both items down and grabs the rolling pin to flatten out the dough. “I remember how much papa loved baking biscuits. He'd always let me decorate them, even though he was so much better at it”, Eileen says while putting Sarah on the counter and holding her waist, in case she'll fall down. She eyes Bucky hesitantly.

He stops for a moment to collect himself and then forces a smile on his face, “He always loved everything you did. You were his little superstar. There wasn't a thing you could have done wrong. You've always been his pride and joy”. Bucky continues rolling the dough, “He always felt bad about actually eating them. He couldn't bear to destroy your art”

“That's what I've got you for though!”, his oldest giggles and gently pinches Bucky's tummy, which makes him release a high pitched shriek. Sarah begins to laugh loudly at her father's silliness and tries to tickle him as well. The man however grabs her hand and pulls her little body towards his chest. He quickly presses a kiss to her forehead.

“Alright, I think we can start cutting. Sarah, baby, do you want daddy to help you?” The young girl nods and claps her hands in an excited manner, “Please, daddy!” Bucky grins and encourages his youngest daughter to choose a cutter. Eileen quickly fishes for her Mickey Mouse one, a smile upon her lips. Sarah takes her time to think, before she carefully picks out the star shape. “Good choice, bug!”

The family spends some time on cutting and baking multiple batches of biscuits, laughing and smiling. After a couple minutes, Eileen starts to play a Christmas playlist to which they sing to. Time was flying and soon they found themselves ready to decorate their goodies.

Bucky forces Sarah to put on an apron and ties her dirty blond hair back into a ponytail. Eileen mixes different coloured icings and opens some sprinkles and edible glitter. Her father eyes the glitter and sighs, “This is going to end in a mess, right?” The older girl smiles sheepishly and her father accepts his defeat.

“Alright then girls, let's get going”. Eileen takes on the job of delicately dipping the biscuits into the icing while Bucky desperately tries to stop his toddler from pouring a whole bag of sprinkles over one single biscuit. And like anticipated, once Sarah finds the glitter, it's over. There's glitter everywhere. In his hair, in his children's hair, on the counter, the floor and of course, on the baked goods.

Once they finished all the biscuits and stored them, Bucky leans against the counter, utterly exhausted. His eyes drift to the clock. It's already 6 pm and he still needs to cook dinner. Upon seeing his father so tired, Eileen slides next to him and places a hand on his, “How about we order some food? We can even choose something healthy, if you want to” He raises his eyebrows, “Healthy you say?”. She nods and Bucky narrows his eyes, “Who are you and what have you done to my teen?”

His dramatic reaction causes her to snort and shake her head. “Well, do you want me to order something or not?”

———

After devouring some nice Italian cuisine and doing a whole lot of dishes, everyone is laying on the couch, tired, yet satisfied. “I'm glad baking biscuits is an annual occurrence. This shit is way to exhausting”, Eileen yawns out and cuddles up to her father, who lifts up an arm to pull her towards him. Sarah is already fast asleep on his belly.  Bucky gives his oldest a warning nudge for using a swear word, but quickly presses a kiss to her temple afterwards.

“Papa hated when I swore. And he always heard it too! I could have been on the moon for all I care and he would have still known”, she complains with a light smile on her face. Bucky chuckles and begins to play with her hair, “You could always hear him yell 'Language!' whenever someone used a bad word”. He sighs, “Your father was a good man. He only wished for the best for you and your sister”. Eileen remains silent.

“Are we going to visit papa tomorrow?”, she asks after a while. Bucky nods, “I was planning on doing so. Is that okay with you?”. The teenager mumbles a quiet 'yes' and yawns again. “Alright, my love. I think it's time for bed” She grumbles, but uses one of her hands to stroke some hair from her eyes. Sitting up, she yawns again and presses a kiss to her father's cheek, “Good night, dad. I love you”

“I love you too, dear. Sweet dreams”, he calls out to her retreating figure. The shine of the vanilla candles illuminates her form and Bucky can't help the warm feeling in his chest. Eileen grew up to be such a beautiful young woman and he realises again just how proud he is. Proud of her responsibility, her independence and her love for herself. It hasn't always been easy for her and she still pulled through to be her best self, which he can't help but admire.

Before he can get too emotional, Bucky gets up as well, careful to not disrupt his daughter's sleep. He blows out the candles, the smoke filling his nostrils with an overwhelming smell of vanilla. Steve always insisted on buying exactly these candles, for they calmed his mind enough to sketch a little, and really, how could Bucky ever deny his love? Now they are a reminder of him. His scent and laugh, the sound of his pencils scratching his paper, the feel of his lips on Bucky's own.

He shakes his head to rid himself of these thoughts and makes his way up the stairs into Sarah's room. He tucks her into the tiny bed and kisses her forehead, “Good night, baby. Sweet dreams. Daddy loves you”, he whispers.

On the wall across the door is the wall painting Steve made before their youngest daughter was born. He was so excited to meet her and made it his goal to create the most beautiful nursery for her. The underwater scene displays so much of Steve's character, from the way he carefully handled the brush to his determined, strong strokes. Bucky is happy that Sarah has this reminder of her papa, especially because she never had the chance to meet him.

He sneaks out of her room, switching on her night light on his way out. One of his hands rests on his soft belly and squeezes the fat that has collected there. A yawn ripples through him which makes him move to his own bedroom. There, the walls are shining in a light orange which creates an illusion of a  bigger room, or so Steve used to say.

Bucky unzips his jeans and throws them on the growing pile of dirty clothes on the floor. He'll have to do laundry soon. His soft jumper joins his trousers, leaving Bucky in some grey boxer briefs. Too tired to bother putting on pyjamas, Bucky lets himself fall into the king sized bed, which stretches under his weight. He turns to his night stand and reaches for the framed picture that rests upon it. His fingers run over the soft wood of the frame, a small smile on his lips.

“Oh, Steve”, he sighs. Suddenly, his strong exterior is quickly crumbling and Bucky's lips begin to tremble. He takes a deep breath. “I miss you so much”, his voice is shaky from his efforts to hold back the tears. “I wish you were still here: Oh god, Steve”. He begins to cry, sobs echoing off of the walls, tears rolling down his puffy cheeks. The picture slides out of his hands and falls onto the bed. Bucky covers his face and tries to muffle the sounds escaping.

It's been over three years since, but he can''t move on. He can't and he won't, wouldn't dare to. Bucky is exhausted, mentally and physically. He's trying to be strong, for Eileen, for Sarah, for Steve. These children are Steve's biggest treasure and Bucky is going to make sure they are happy and safe. It's what Steve would have wanted and he can't fail him.

He tries to wipe the tears away, but new ones follow immediately. “Fuck Steve, I'm so sorry. I wish I could have done more”, Bucky cries and pulls the framed photo to his chest, curling around it as if he were to protect it, “I wish it would have been me!”. Sobs continue to roll through his body. He tries to breathe through his nose, to be calm and controlled, but the piercing ache in his heart continues to make him cry out. His soft belly shakes with each agonized shudder and every heartbreaking sob.

Once he's finally calmed down, he dries his cheeks and presses his lips to Steve's picture. The cold glass a stark contrast to Bucky's warm lips. Immediately, it begins to fog up under the man's hot breath. His fingers find their wedding rings, which he is wearing on a chain around his neck, and play with them. The metallic sounds when they bump into each other fills the void room and aid Bucky into finally resting. Just before he falls asleep, the words “with you 'till the end of the line” fall from his lips.

———

The next day, the Rogers-Barnes family is bundled up in thick, fluffy coats, scarves and hats to fight against the biting cold. They are cuddled up on a picnic blanket and warm their hands with cups of hot chocolate. Their breath fogs up the icy air and the smell of biscuits is prominent. Bucky looks down to Eileen who is feeding Sarah a reindeer treat. He smiles.

“Do you like your biscuits, baby?”. The toddler nods enthusiastically and offers the rest of her half eaten goodie to her father, a big, toothy grin on her face. He grins mischievously  and eats the whole biscuit in one bite, which makes the younger girl gasps dramatically before bursting out in giggles, “Silly daddy!”

Eileen smirks and joins in, “Yes, silly daddy. He will never lose some pounds this way” Her hand pats his belly after she squeezes his admittedly pudgy cheeks, “but that's what we love you for, right Sarah?” The addressed girl nods, already on her next biscuit. Bucky smiles widely and throws an arm over his oldest and pulls her to his chest, “I know you're just jealous of my dad bod”, his hands stroke over his tummy in an appreciative manner. The teen hums an agreement and cuddles herself closer to her father.

“I guess your hugs have increased in efficiency”. The chubby man grins and kisses both of his daughters' heads. “Your papa loved it too. He'd always give me some nice belly rubs”, he tells her before looking over to the grave they are sitting next to,”isn't that right, Stevie?”

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