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serperioranimations · 18 hours ago

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BUCKLE UP KIDS, ITS TATER TED TALK TIME

I can definitely be on board with this. I am a disabled artist myself, (neurodivergent/ADHD), and I have a range of characters with physical and mental disabilities, and this also includes Red leader Tord. As well as Tom. And Matt. I’ll put my thoughts and response down below.

I also agree with the scarring points, how in film, evil characters have scars to look more “scary”. There is three examples off the top of my head that literally have the word “scar” in their name. However, I won’t really be discussing that here.

I wouldn’t say MY version of red leader is a bad guy(at least not to Edd, Matt and Tom), he’s moreso just a guy who went about things the wrong way while trying to get his friends recruited. Whole thing. He made up with them eventually. And while he has the ability to come off as intimidating, it’s moreso about the level of power he holds in a room rather than his “scary” appearance.

My portrayals of disability, at least with with red leader tord, mostly focus on the mental effects of his disability. Sure, the physical stress is a lot, but the mental stress of having to worry about your perception and how you are viewed as a disabled person makes a lot of disabilities ten times worse.

He fears that he could get into another accident and lose more of his body and therefore his humanity. Sometimes he has to take his arm off because he hates that he now has to have machinery as his arm. He has nightmares where he’ll be full robot and it freaks him the hell out.

Obviously, there are things that affect him physically too. In the crash, he lost some of his teeth and his cornea had a piece of glass stuck in it and it was damaged. His depth perception is greatly impacted because he’s now blind in his right eye, and he has to wear dentures. He had to change parts of his lifestyle in order to keep them in tact, such as quitting smoking. He also quit because he was scared of getting robot/synthetic lungs and further losing his humanity.

Not to mention, he has to do a lot of work to make sure he can actually LIFT his arm, as it has a lot of machinery in it and that can get quite heavy. He has a lot of frustration surrounding that as well. My version of tord is a tinkerer and always is trying to find new ways to improve something. So his arm is never quite finished. It’s more of an extension to his character than it is a replacement for his arm.

My portrayal of future Tom also has this concept, in the fact that he is blind. His visor does do a lot of things for him, and Tord spent a very long time even trying to get it to work AT ALL.

In a comic I made, it’s implied he had to go through several versions and tests over multiple months to even get him to see ANYTHING. And that comic also implied that it was only a START.

And even if it allows him to see, he still needs to take care of it, he has a backup incase something happens, he has to charge it, all this stuff. And also, it cannot help him see all the time. Like when he turns into a monster.

It can’t help him see when he turns to the size of a building. In fact, when he feels himself turning, he often tries to get the visor off of him as to avoid breaking it because he knows how hard Tord worked on it. But without it, He’s just a giant blind monster who has no idea what’s going on or where he is. And that is a recipe for disaster, my friends.

I will say my representations of technology are not exactly “realistic” and I’ll fully admit that. However, I think it’s important to take into account that sometimes, people just wanna design cool robot stuff that can do cool things. It’s the whole reason people love the idea of flying cars. Yes it’s unrealistic, and we have so many other vehicles that would be way more efficient, but come on- the idea of a flying car is very entertaining. And most of the time, that is what I focus on. If it’s entertaining or interesting.

Plus I’m just like “you know what, I like you- here’s some cool shit you can do cool things with.” That’s how I see the technology in WTFuture. Or at least that’s how I go about it.

In a more realistic and grounded universe outside of Eddsworld, such as my own original story “The Bad Hunters”, I would obviously go about this differently.

But in a world where people can turn into vampires, superhero’s, giant monsters, and just overall break most rules of physics and real life, I think it’s understandable why people in the fandom often default to “because it looks cool” when it comes to designs. After all, I think Edd Gould himself shared this sentiment. 90% of the decisions or jokes he made in his show, I guarantee he made “because it’s funny” or “because it’s cool”.

Like, for example, I have this joke that Tom during meetings will play minesweeper in his headset, because 1- it’s in character that he wouldn’t pay attention to meetings, and 2- it’s funny as hell. And let’s be real- if you’ve been on a zoom meeting that was boring, you’ve probably pulled up minesweeper or solitaire. Is that something realistically that a blind person would be able to do if they had a headset that allowed them to see? Absolutely not. But is it funny? Yes.

Future Matt also has a pretty big disability- that being he has some memory loss related to a brain injury. He got shot in the head and his eye was replaced with a metal one. He also had to get his jaw fixed. He often struggles with remembering what people just told him, and sometimes he forgets where Edd is and that he left. It also, much like Tom and tord and their disabilities, took some getting used to.

He’s also got a mini super computer in his eye that allows him to calculate bullet trajectory and allow him to dodge bullets matrix style. Because fuck it- future Matt is cool, he deserves cool shit. Also because tord was like “aight bro what if I made sure you never got shot in the face again”. Again- is it realistic? No. But is it cool? Yes.

Overall, as an author with disabilities myself, the portrayals of disability I enjoy the most are the ones that acknowledge “this shit sucks” but also are ones that allow for some levity and lightheartedness. This applies to both mental and physical disabilities.

Like toph from ATLA. Yes, she can’t see through the earth and she’s insanely powerful, but also, girlie can’t swim. Obviously, her drowning is no laughing matter, and they don’t make fun of that. But her confidently putting a poster on a wall the wrong way because she can’t see is hilarious.

Or like in arcane, when sevika gets a sick new arm made by jinx, only for it to turn out to be an unpredictable hunk of junk that will do random shit like blast music or shoot fireworks, and sevika is just like “bro are you fucking kidding me”. That may be the most realistic portrayal of a disability aid/tool I’ve ever seen. Sometimes it works great, but sometimes it’s a fucking piece of shit. It also helps that Sevikas arm links to her gambling addiction, hence the slot machine. Sure, it’s not the most “realistic” portrayal, but it does further her character and I think that is also a valid way to write it.

Overall, what I’d say is that I definitely agree with all of what was said above me! These are all valid points and the portrayal of scarring being used the characterize “evil”, or make them look scary, as well as just treating prosthetics as perfect replacements definitely don’t always sit right.

But also I would say that with portraying disability, don’t go the easy way out and basically get rid of their disability by giving them a perfect replacement with no issues that would realistically go along with this. Not just because it’s harmful and disability erasure, but also because it’s boring as shit.

Challenge yourself. Do some research. And most importantly, HAVE FUN.

-your friendly neighborhood tater

The Problem With the Eddsworld Fandom's Depictions of Red Leader/Future Tord, A Disabled Perspective

Disability is a contentious concept for most of society, with most either treating us with disgust, confusion, refusing to treat us as human, or to see our struggles as what they are. Ableism affects all people in many different ways, but as someone who focuses a lot of my energy in fandom spaces, the pervasiveness of ableism with how media and their fans interpet and react to disabled characters is a very personal situation for me. While many may argue that an ignorance to these topics in fiction has little bearing on real life, the prevalance of these tropes have echoed and led to feelings of othering for many disabled people, and oftentimes support the same notions that lead to the day-to-day ableism in our own personal lives.

In recent years, I have experienced this most often with the prevalance of negative disability tropes perpetrated by fanfiction surrounding the character of Tord, also known under the alias of Red Leader in some fanworks. It is a problem not just common in the Eddsworld fandom. A more recent, and much larger fandom in Mouthwashing also shares a common trend of repeated ableism in fan depictions and interpretarions of disabled characters. Most fan creators are unaware of these tropes and the harm that they cause, but as a disabled person, I am unable to ignore it.

For context on myself, you can call me Fish. Get it? Or"fish"eus? I like to think I'm funny. I am a mentally ill, disabled, and neurodivergent creative who has niche interests in representation in media and the intersection of intersectionality and fandom spaces. I experience chronic pain due to a multitude of conditions, all of which are invisible disabilities. I am NOT an amputee or have a facial difference, like the character I am analyzing. I can only speak based on my own research in my attempts to portray him positively, but I want to mainly focus on the ableist tropes I see and the real life effects they have. That is something I CAN focus on, because I've been dealing with it for years from conditions that came onset later in my life. I will be speaking from that perspective, but will be doing my best to try to educate on what I do know from my research to help authors, artists, and creatives create a better portrayal of him in fanworks.

The most common tropes I see with him are what I will call "The Disabled Villain", "The Innacurate Disability", and "The Ignored Disability". There are a few tropes in each, but for ease of organization (and the sake of your (and my) time), I will be talking about them together in these sections. There are also overlaps in many, but I will define the main issues with them.

The Disabled Villain

James Bond, Wonder Woman, The Witches. You name it. You have most likely seen this trope at work in cinema. A malicious evil-doer is revealed to have a "horrid" face symbolic of the true evil within their soul, while the beautiful, able-bodied hero is meant to stop them. It's a trope as old as time, one that goes back to even Plato. Tropes are tropes, people subvert them, so a few cases down the line may be excusable. But that has not been the case For many years, the most prevalent form of representation for disabled people was in these villains. Imagine if the only representation you had for yourself was narratives surrounding how the way you look or what your disability is and have it only be equated to evil people. It leads to a villainization of disabled people. People react to facial differences with disgust, because they are "shown" that it is "evil", or "ugly", or equal to being a horrible person. As stated by The Nora Project, "According to the book Disabilities: Insights from Across Fields and Around the World, disabled students are two to three times more likely to be bullied in comparison to their nondisabled classmates. The disabled villain trope contributes to this phenomenon in overt and subtle ways. For example, the trope implicitly encourages fear of disability and difference, while validating, and even elevating, those who fight against the evil, Disabled Villain. Bullying based on fear and disdain is almost a natural consequence of the trope when viewed in this light". Another big issue is that disabled characters have not been given space to exist outside of villainy. There are not many complex narratives surrounding them. This leads to our disabilities being downplayed, us being dehumanised, and we are seen more like props in real life, or simply tools to achieve a message in a narrative.

Tord's disability is never explicitly shown in the show. It is something more prevalent in Fanon, specifically in fanworks that focus on the "Future" era of the show's timeline, where the narrative and outside discussions on the show implies a high tech society, potentially dystopian, potentially a consequence of his actions. These ideas have taken a life of their own in the fandom, with many creators fully expressing these ideas. The problem arises when Red Leader falls in line with this trope. In many works, he is the sole disabled character, a figure of pure evil, or given little nuance in the narrative. Artists illustrate his scars as bright red, crimson, or, in TBATF, green. For some reason. In this way, they attempt to highlight the villainy by equating him with common symbols of evil: facial differences and disabilities. Unfortunately, these are not just symbols. These are conditions and scars that real people have, which the fandom tends to ignore in favor of dramatization.

This was a trope I most commonly saw explored in fanfiction when I first joined in 2016/17. The show, unfortunately, subtly and accidentally perpetrated it by having the only character visibly and irreparably "damaged" by the giant robot fight be Tord, despite the fact that Tom, who had a whole missile directed at him and got buried under a house, was fine with at most a leg injury and a cut on his arm. Luckily, we have grown past the need for ableist tropes, and the faults of the show can be left in the past!

... Not.

Disability tropes have simply evolved in how the fandom treats Tord. Even if it is now done with more consciousness and sympathy towards his character, ignorance still prevails. Let's talk about common pitfalls people fall into when writing him.

The Inaccurate Disability

In fanon perception, Red Leader is an amputee with a high tech prosthesis and a facial difference resulting from burn scars. Like many disabled characters, he suffers from a collective fandom lack of research. But never fret! That is what I have subjected myself to for the past four years, so your friendly neighborhood disabled Fish can tell you how to right your fandom wrongs! Just kidding! Take this as a pointer, and do your own research.

As is common with fictional prosthetics, his arm prosthetic is treated as a perfect fix for his amputation. It acts just like, if not better than an actual arm. The issue with this is that is isn't realistic. Yes, I know, I'm criticising Eddsworld fanfiction for not being realistic. STAY WITH ME HERE. Once again, if it was one instance, or a few, that explored prosthetics being incredibly functional in science-fiction, then it could be a cool concept. But when every sci-fi work has it, then that is no longer a concept. That is a misconception. And I have interacted with people who believed that prosthetics were 100% functional! The thing is, like all disability aids, it does not suddenly make us able-bodied. For example, I have ear defenders that I wear when I experience pain within my ears. But that does not mean my hearing will now become normal, and I will no longer experience pain from the sound I'm hearing. What WILL happen is that I will straight up not hear you. Like, literally. Can you repeat that? I had my ear defenders on. Oh, you're saying that my ear defenders aren't prosthetics and are not a fair comparison? Well, that's fair, but take this as an illustration of a disability aid and how they differ from able-bodied experiences. Also, many prosthetic users do many things without their prostheses, and some even prefer NOT to wear them. Blogs that explicitly cover disabled representation, such as @/cripplecharacters, have posts that cover WHY many amputees are not fans of this trope. The problem comes with that it erases disability, and yet also treats us like we are given a space at the table of representation. It's just another way that authors avoid actually doing research.

Other things that people tend to ignore are how burn scars, or any scars, would not only appear on a character, but also affect them. I have seen, aside from skin tones that looked like they were picked out of a crayon box instead of what would appear on a person, teeth exposed, wounds that look as if they are fresh from the explosion YEARS after they occurred, and what I like to call "paper shredder" scars. Because instead of them looking like burn or shrapnel scars, it appears as if his skin was put through a shredder. Once again, another consequence of the show's at most-30 second scene with questionable decisions that made massive ripples in the fandom. With the injuries Tord received, it is most likely that he would have two kinds of injuries: a burn on 18% of his body (minimum, based on rule of 9s), and/or shrapnel scars from debris. While shrapnel scars would manifest as darker scars, the burn scar would likely be a hypertrophic scar, as "70% of patients develop hypertrophic scars following burns" (Finnerty et. al). The scars, when healed, are warm toned on the boundaries of their areas and cool in between. When on a pale skintone, they are not too dissimilar, and would therefore not have such a drastic color difference as seen on skin. They would also not go down to the bone or skin, as that would be a completely different kind of injury, and are also commonly done to make him look "scarier", which then aids the Disabled Villain trope. It also treats these scars and injuries more like a work of fiction, rather than something that many real people have experienced, adding to continuous misinterpretations of real life disabilities and facial differences.

For writers wanting to include consequences of burns, what would be more likely to be affected are his hearing, vision, and nerves on the right side of his face, as burn scars can go as deep as nerve endings. Also, burn scars, especially third degree burns, require treatments, such as burn-specific skincare. Scars, especially burn scars, can affect you and become disabling. For artists, the main thing I don't see artists do is draw him with damaged hair follicles. Burn scars damage the scalp and eyebrows, preventing hair growth. I am sorry, but he would not still have fluffy, luscious hair. Do not kill me. He just wouldn't. And if you are saying that he had it in the show, I can't hear you because my ear defenders are on, but I hope you heard me, as we've gone over that the show is inaccurate and we should do our own research.

Even well intentioned authors and artists ignore many aspects of the disabilities he would likely have!

Which brings us to the last trope...

The Ignored Disability

Many well meaning people intend to give him nuance by trying to avoid the Disabled Villain trope. Accidentally, however, they end up completely ignoring his disabilities instead.

Just like the high-tech prosthetic, the real disabling aspects of having a disability are at best rarely mentioned. I have seen, in some fanworks, that he goes straight from amputation to having a prosthetic. And that is where his disability ends. Because the prosthetic ends up being a fix-all situation. Authors refuse, or forget, to include aspects of amputation, such as the healing process, stump or phantom pain. Artists will cover up his scars with a helmet or a mask, another trope that undermines his disabilities and attempts to brush it under the rug. I understand that there is a discomfort for able-bodied authors in thoroughly exploring how a character feels about their disability. That is something I think we should. Avoid. If you're not familiar with the experience of being that minority, you do not need to add commentary on it. And if you do, and it just falls into more negative tropes, I will send a salmon cannon at you (/j). However, I do not agree with brushing every disabling aspect of his life under the rug.

People can assume it's not a problem, like it isn't something blatantly apparent. But, if you assume that disability and being disabled is not a "big thing", you end up where your medication is denied because your insurance refuses to see your common procedure as not a necessary medical intervention because you're "too young". And that is not fiction. That is what inspired me to write this essay, because the day that I got that news was the same day I sat down and told myself that I needed to share my perspective on the perception of disabled characters by honing in on one of my favorite characters and how the fandom treated him.

Disabled characters deserve to be included in media, disability and all, with care given to how their life would operate as a result and what they would experience with their specific disability. That's why many people recommend sensitivity readers who can give proper insight upon that disability and can advise people to properly portray it.

But if you cannot afford or access that resource, what can you do?

Fish's Non-Cohesive List of Ways I Tried to Write Tord as a Non-Amputee Without a Facial Difference

Do research!! The more you are to try to understand what you are writing about, the less you are to misinterpret or misrepresent it.

Look into resources that focus on portraying disabled characters, especially with those you wish to write about. Read blogs, research tropes that are common in disabled characters, and hell, read medical journals. They can provide great insight (<< nerd who likes reading medical journals)

Include more disabled characters. Make the other boys be disabled! Want to be canon compliant? Create OCs who have disabilities! I have a bunch! It's 2024! Be cringe and be free! The character's disability would go against the traditional narrative form of "usefulness"? I'm an animator who can't wear headphones and a theatre performer who can't physically handle the volume of a band. And yet, we find ways to persist, to exist. We will always find our way to live in the way we want to, in whatever way we can.

Look into disability activism. Learn the difference between the Medical Model and Social Model of disability. Know what an invisible disability is. Listen to us when we say that we don't want to be treated as special or an inspiration for simply living (inspiration porn). The more you are aware of what we struggle in real life, the more aware you will be to not repeat those mistakes in your fiction.

Write what you can. Highlight little talked about aspects of having a burn scar or being an amputee, such as the recovery, or treatment for the chronic pain, or how different he would be in battle due to decreased depth perception. As a disabled author, I have personally touched on the experience of gaining a disability later in life, and how he copes with it. Now, not all of y'all can do that. But that is a personal experience I do have, and it is something I have highlighted in my own work. So, while I couldn't tell you the ins and outs of having a burn scar or a prosthetic arm, I could describe the shock and frustration that comes with suddenly experiencing difficulties, or even being unable to do what you had done before.

I ask that, if you are willing to do better, or to start on the right foot, you take what I have written, reflect on it, and treat disabled characters, and in turn, disabled people, better from here on out.

Fiction is not reality, but the way we deal with it is reflective of who we are and what we believe. The boundary for our own personal being does not suddenly stop within fiction. When we interact and interpret it and create for it, it is integral that we remain conscious that bigotry runs rampant, albeit often as an unseen force, within fandom spaces, and do our best to counteract that.

I have doubts that the new eddisode will treat this topic with the same respect. I hope you can all go forward with what you have read in this WAY LONGER than I expected essay, and do what those grown British men cannot. Even if they erase it, retconn it, or do not treat it with respect, let's all go forward and do better!

As for always, you can discuss more in the tags or my inbox!

I hope you have a wonderful life,

Fish

#tater ted talk #tater reblog #artists on tumblr #eddsworld #disability

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nateezfics · 11 months ago

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the neediest, whiniest, most pathetic moan i just let out oh my god

#I. NEED. DICK.#I. NEED. IT.#INSIDE ANY OF MY HOLES IDC #JUST….NEED HIM IN MEEEEEEEEEEE #*FERAL RABID GROWLING*#foaming at the mouth rn #i wanna be filled like a damn cream filled donut #just so full of him I physically can’t hold it all in #i once saw this quote that said “call me cinderella cuz i’ll always make it fit”#…yeah #hongjoong smut #hongjoong hard thoughts #joongie #☕️

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insanechayne · 4 months ago

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~ ~ ~

#I think I’m lonely in a way I can’t fully describe #I have a partner and friends and family but still often feel alone even when I’m with them #I don’t feel close to anyone at times and I don’t know if it’s outside circumstances or just me #like with my partner being asexual we don’t really do certain activities that I’d like to partake in more often and I can’t hold it against #them for how they do/don’t feel but at the same time I’m craving a physical connection I can’t have and am struggling #doesn’t help that I think about sex all the time nowadays and would really like to be having it and experiencing/exploring certain things #it’s not always easy to take care of oneself that way and still also try to console the ace partner apologizing for who they are #and yeah hall passes are great but only if you have someone to use it on and I’ve never had anyone want to be with me sexually #moving on to bestie I don’t feel my same love and affection being reciprocated and that sucks because I really do anything I can for him #and am like that with pretty much all of mt friends where if they need me for something I’ll be there #but a lot of the time it seems like he really only wants to talk/hang out with me if he’s at work and I can come visit with him #any time I invite him to do something with me outside of work he flakes and so it’s not even worth inviting him anymore #and yeah there’s rare times where he’ll call me a bunch in one day but it’s always just to tell me some gossip from work #not that gossip isn’t fun but still don’t you want to jus talk to me? I always want to just talk to you even if it’s about nothing at all #I’m always the one putting myself out there for him and being there for him when he calls me but I almost never get that same response back #and it’s like I know he has a family so I know he can’t always drop everything for me nor would I ever expect that but just some matching of #my energy would be nice you know? but then I feel guilty/selfish because I feel like I shouldn’t ask that of him when he does have a life #away from work. and I mean I guess I do too but it’s different because partner and I don’t have kids and don’t do much aside from sit around #together or have tea or other things most often done at home. and I don’t live with partner full time yet so I also still have other freedom #outside of just being with them. and other responsibilities I take care of but not on the same level as a wife and kids I guess #idk now I just feel like I’m whining but tbh all this stuff is weighing on me and just making me feel really shitty #I don’t know how to fix these issues without sounding like a selfish bitch and I’m obviously not going to cut anyone off but I don’t really #see any other solutions forming either. so it’s like I guess I’ll just keep my mouth shut and keep feeling bad until the end of time since #that’s the easiest thing to do and then no one else is hurt or upset aside from me #I just feel like I’m destined to float through life never getting back what I need from my relationships but still giving everything because #I don’t know any other way to be. I don’t know how to set boundaries even for myself so I’ll just keep giving and giving until I’m dead #and yeah I guess I am still a lot happier than I used to be and I appreciate the people in my life #just sometimes feels like they don’t really appreciate me back is all #so now I have to lay here next to partner and have all this shit running in my mind and try to get over it on my own #reasonably I should just go to bed but the loneliness is gnawing at me and idk what to do to make it go away

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trvthservm · 5 days ago

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let’s talk virgin!geto who might be inexperienced but knows what he wants.

you both have been dating for a good few months, early years of college and can’t get your hands off each other. he’s the sweetest boyfriend you could ask for, possessive sure but he always treats you right. it’s one of his first serious relationships while you had dated around before, plenty of experience up your sleeve. he makes sure to kiss your forehead, carry an extra jacket because he knows you will get cold and drives you around the city on his bike.

geto who’s ears are completely red when you spend the night with him for the first time ever. he made sure to kick his roommate out so he could have his complete attention on you. he cooks you your favourite meal and has your favourite rom com waiting to play on the television but deep down inside he’s busy thinking about how you look underneath all your clothes.

it’s not like you haven’t touched each other before. you find yourself often pushed against the library wall with geto’s pierced tongue in your mouth, his tattooed hand travelling under your top to play with your breasts. more than once you’ve been caught by a fellow student who had the misfortune of witnessing your very public display of affection instead of a physics textbook.

so when you are in his flat, hips straddling his thighs on his old couch, geto almost moans out loud. he watches you as you grind your ass against his clothed cock, not innocent on his side when he intentionally wore grey sweats. “slow do— fuck! slower! baby” he groans as your gyrating hips make him leak through, the friction between your shorts and his sweats enough to make his eyes roll back.

when he carries you to his bed and lies you flat, it’s like a dream come true. you pull down your shorts and stop, inviting him to do the rest. geto does not need anything more to use his pearly white teeth to drag your pretty black panties leaving it to hang around your ankle. he can’t afford to wait when all he has ever dreamed off is spread open waiting for him.

you look up to him with glossy eyes and your lip tucked under your teeth when you hear him say the words — “i have never done this before.”

confused you get up, supporting your body on your elbows. he looks away turning red at his own brazen admission, and only looks at you when you pull down his sweats to help release his girthy cock, precum beading at the tip. he groans when your much smaller hands begin to jerk him off, cooing about how good he is being for you. there’s a teasing tilt to your tone because it’s not everyday you learn your hot boyfriend is a secret virgin! you continue to jerk him off and tease him for acting tough when he decides can’t take it anymore, the way you talk to him like he’s too innocent to touch you back.

geto shows you that despite being your good boy, he can make you eat your shit eating grin when he pins your thighs down. his mouth is on your dripping cunt, tongue licking your clit in slow circles. he does not stop when you cum on his face, he does not stop to take a break when his ringed fingers enter your wet entrance, squishing and squelching echoing throughout. he does not stop until there’s a ring of your cream that parallels the silver rings he wears and the lower half of his face painted with your slick juices.

you don’t start worrying until he picks you up and holds your legs open in front of his full length mirror so he can slip his heavy cock past your spread folds and just to say, “fuck baby, wanted my first time to be in missionary looking at your pretty face but i think full nelson might be better for your bratty pussy.”

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fushiguho · 1 month ago

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Thinking about Asshole!Toji who’s so incredibly mean to his sweet girlfriend but only because he knows how nasty she’ll get for him…

“You like it when I’m mean to you, huh? Get’s that pussy so messy doesn’t it, baby?” He mutters, fingers threading through the hair at your nape, drawing your head back to force your gaze onto his stoic face as you kneel before him, his fat cock heavy against your tongue.

You can only nod slightly, saliva slipping from the corners of your swollen lips. As you sit prettily on your knees, you sputter around him in vain attempts to breathe, all the while his cock rests snuggly in your throat.

“No, no, no. Don’t just fuckin’ nod your head,” he punctuates with harsh tug of your hair, “I want you to answer me.”

Physically, you can’t answer him, it’s not feasible. Not with the way he’s deliberately tucking himself deeper, his swollen balls now pressing against your quivering bottom lip. His warm hand holds your head taut, leaving room for not a damn thing — not a breath nor a gasp, and definitely not a word.

Yet still, you attempt to speak, because for Toji, you’ll do anything. After several trembling breaths through your nose, you make an effort to choke out a word with his cock against your tongue and fail horribly, of course. Toji took your relaxed throat as an opportunity to plant himself impossibly deeper, eliciting a proper gag from you. What a meanie.

He’s pouting feigndly, “Aweee, can’t fuckin’ speak can you, sweetheart?” He coos, “That pretty mouth too full of cock to talk to me?” His teeth are clenching now as a guttural moan threatens to erupt from his chest.

Toji is so fucking hard. You always manage to get him so incredibly hard to the point it pains him. That poor cock of his weeps and aches at the sight of you doing literally anything. Most times he can’t help himself when he watches you doing the most mundane of tasks.

Whether it be laundry, cooking, or cleaning, he’s creeping behind you, bending you over the nearest surface, and fucking a load into his pretty girl’s cunt and you fucking love it. Maybe it’s some sick, gnawing primal urge of his that yearns to be satiated and if not, he’d simply die. Whatever it is, you don’t seem to mind, clearly.

Toji’s hips buck wildly, fucking himself into your mouth as he would your cunt. “Look so pretty takin’ all of my cock like that, baby fuuuck. Such a good throat fa’me… always so ready for cock, didn’t even have to ask you,” he’s peeling the disheveled hair off of your forehead, baring your drunken mien, “just got on your knees and pulled my cock out. Couldn’t even take off my coat… always been such a greedy little girl, yeah?” He babbles.

You’re not thinking, not really. Poor head full of cotton and he hasn’t even touched you. You hardly even notice the way he sheathes himself from your mouth to pump himself in his hand instead. Cock thick and swollen, glistening in a layer of your saliva. Idly, he drags his fist up and down, twisting his wrist as he nears the head, only to swipe his thumb across the slit before repeating it all over again. Like a dog, your mouth pools with saliva as he strokes his cock mere centimeters from your face.

“Gonna cum all over that pretty face… ruin your fuckin’ makeup,” he grits, dragging the tip of his cock along your wet lips, rudely prodding against them, “look so pretty already but I think I like you better with my cum all over your lips, your cheeks, your nose, and anywhere else I fuckin’ want, you hear me?” He’s slapping himself across your face now, smearing his precum along the bridge of your nose, the high points of your cheeks, your chin, even your perspiring forehead.

You’re pressing your thighs together as you nod to him, “I need it.” You whisper.

“Heh, yea you do.”

4K notes · View notes

tojisun · 1 month ago

Text

the hand that feeds you

— “i take care of her, s’all.”

johnny mactavish x f!reader

cw: 18+ work - minors dni; age difference; daddy issues (kinda the central plot); cooking as a love language; slow burn but in high speed; a breath of angst; power imbalance; canon divergence - regular/non-military life au // amazing divider by @gildui! // 6.5k words

extra notes: this is a very self-indulgent work. there are holes in the plot, 100%, so ignore those holes pretty pls </3 also ik this is more of a captain johnny-verse but midway through, i started projecting so i might’ve written him incorrectly and im really sorry for that!!

being roommates with johnny is not as weird as it is; he’s amicable, at first, then full blown nice when days passed. he’s not loud, per se, but there’s always a constant chatter streaming from his space, like he physically can’t sit still through the silence which is great because you don’t fare any better with the stillness too, so reminiscent of how it was in the suburbs.

you moved to a neighbourhood just skirting past the inner city just because it’s a lot cheaper. but even then, rent was always high and your little box in a rundown complex wasn’t going to sustain you forever even if you wished it would. then, an opening in johnny’s townhouse was posted, almost half-price than whatever is up in the market, and it’s great despite your skepticism. hell, it’s more than great — it’s lifesaving.

your shitty job at the bookstore really can’t cover much of your expenses anymore, and sure student loans and the grant is great, but the growing debt makes you wince so it’s whatever at this point. you’re about to graduate soon anyway, pooling work experience from volunteering and club organizations, and it’s not like you can even go back to how it was.

(underway to law school, primed up before your father’s scrutiny but the burnout got to you before you could even write the LNAT. you realized that being a barrister wasn’t really what you wanted so you changed programs, midway, and switched to children’s education.

god, the disappointment in your pa’s eyes was so big, you knew to pack your shit before he could even kick you out.)

it’s… tough.

god, is it tough. none of your old friends and colleagues could stay in contact, which you don’t hold against them because most of them, by now, have graduated and entered law school. you’re straggling about two years back because of the switch in programs, and everything’s gone too tight. your budget. your social life.

your dating life.

johnny often distracts you from it all — he works in downtown, in one of those high-rise buildings often reserved for limiteds or holding companies, and has to travel off the city every three months. he makes good money, he said jovially, and you know it’s a nudge as to why your portion of the rent is cheap in the first place.

when you finally bit the bullet and asked why he put up one of the rooms in the market, johnny just shrugged and said he needed someone to house sit but sort off permanently. said something like last time he left, the pipes bursted and he couldn’t really fly back to help with the repairs.

it’s great being with him. he’s bright and bubbly, but also dependable in ways you never really thought about. like—

well, it’s all mundane things so listing them feels embarrassing, and it makes you feel as though you’re a touch-starved damsel and johnny just so happened to be the next older man to give you any attention and his time. but you can’t help it. god, you can’t help preen at the way he exists beside you.

he’s just so… beautiful, is what it is.

rugged and charming and loud and filling. the townhouse is too big for the two of you, but johnny makes it work. makes it feel like the two of you just fit into each other’s spaces.

early mornings are spent with him lilting between english and scottish, his exhaustion plastered onto him even after he’s downed two cups of coffee. he bumps his hip onto yours when he ambles out to prepare for his work, grumbling something like good morning and how’re you. afternoons are more lively and productive; it’s of you coming back from campus at six in the evening only to find him in the kitchen, fixing up dinner. it’s always something fancy and rich in flavour; something he always eats with wine on the side.

you, uh, you never thought he could actually cook, let alone feed himself well, but there he was, always a plate ready for you too like it’s expected that you’ll eat dinner with him. like spending time with him was just natural — the sky is blue, the ocean’s deep, and you and johnny fall into each other like there is an invisible string pulling you close to him.

it’s a beautiful change of pace, and there are more days now when you can breathe in a little easier, and you know it’s all because of johnny. it’s all him who pulled you out of your slump and out of that darkness and gave you the room, literally, to grow.

he’s beautiful, but you’ve said that already, haven’t you? he’s just… so good to be with.

then, johnny began picking up and bringing some home.

the first time it happened was shocking, really.

you had an early morning, something that’s so murky now in your memories so you’re unsure if it was anything uni related or work related, just that it was five in the morning and you were clambering downstairs as quietly as you could. you rounded the length of the hallway from the platform to the kitchen when you ran into someone.

“steady,” she’d said, voice hoarse and loud in her shock too.

you yelled, jumping, arms swinging because was there an intruder, and it took johnny physically subduing you for you to calm down. looking back now, you burn in embarrassment, but then you had been so worried, your body wound up so tightly in your fear.

“shh,” johnny had murmured with that wry grin. “s’just me, lass.”

your eyes danced between him and the brunette — pretty even in her rumpled shirt, with long legs and a small waist — trying to understand what was going on. you are sure johnny had told you before that he wasn’t seeing anyone so who—

“your girlfriend?” she asked johnny, turning to him with her lips pursed and her brow cocked up.

the question settled in your stomach, doing wonders to your already-fragile psyche. you’d just spent hours thinking about johnny and what he meant to you; what living with him meant. how it eased up something carved within the trenches of your being, like you’d always been waiting for someone like him.

the question was a reminder, like prickling you with icicles, leaving you to navigate the swoop. but johnny had laughed, nothing mean but so dismissive that you felt the curl of shame brandishing from the base of your spine like johnny was laughing at you.

“oh, nah,” he replied, arm still slung over your shoulders. “she’s sorta my ward, yes? i take care of her, s’all.”

that’s all. you’re nothing more to him but a ward. a tenant. not even a friend—

she hummed, then leaned over to kiss johnny, her eyes still drawn to you like she’s watching, waiting for a reaction, and when she got none, she trudged to the door. you and johnny watched as she bent down to slip in her shoes, some stilettos with red bottoms, before wordlessly disappearing into the darkened morning.

“pretty,” you chirped, trying to break the tension of whatever that was.

johnny laughed in that way that surely crinkled his eyes, only to steer the conversation away by asking why you were up early. you remembered what you had to do and you dived to the kitchen in a flurry, chatting about the deadlines and due dates — so it was a school thing — and johnny just watched, silent, humming, eyes still curved in his glee.

you left no sooner than his… paramour did and, for a while, that was that.

but your semester is coming to a close and your schedule is changing, but so is johnny’s. he’s coming home later and later, but always seemed to offer apologies in the form of easy-to-microwave meals for your dinner. they’re still homemade, probably cooked up in the morning before he left for work, and you’d messaged him to say that he didn’t need to worry about you. that, sure, you came to him amidst financial struggle, juggling work and school, and trying to decide if you would have to starve this month because of rent, but you can cook. for yourself and for him too.

johnny’s face did a terrible thing when you mentioned that in person, the first in a while after things got hectic.

“what,” you bit out, embarrassed.

“nothing,” he said, blinking like he was realizing things he shouldn’t. “s’fun doing things f’r you.”

then he clamped up, spooning soup into his mouth, some of it messily dribbling into his chin. it’s not like you were doing any better, with how your throat closed up at his words, eyes going wide.

it’s been a thing, is what it is, but neither of you two have ever acknowledged that it’s a thing. it’s been a wordless experience — of johnny taking over things when it comes to the house because of course he will, it’s his home, but he always covers things for you too. things you’re sure normal landlords don’t really worry about, but not johnny.

there’s always extra food in the kitchen, extra blankets when the weather dips. there’s even a new cooling machine for the summer even though you know johnny’s room already has an installed air conditioning. he’s even changed the seats in the dining room because he caught you once hitting your hip after an all-nighter on a project.

then, he refurbished the den to make it your office.

“you didn’t have to,” you told him, mind racing at your savings, wondering if he was going to increase your rent.

johnny just shook his head with an almost fond roll of his eyes and clapped your back, arm hovering there. “s’all yers, hen.”

everything he did always accounted for you. so why the women?

they’re all long limbed and trimmed waist, with eyes that sparkled even when all you’ve seen of them is always within the poorly-lit hallway. they have voices that curl teasingly, breathy like they’re enticing johnny for one more night. and they’ve always, always, treated you like a—

like a kid.

a burden, almost, of johnny’s.

and, hell, maybe you are. johnny’s almost twice your age; he’s also already well-established in his career, some senior position that you can’t really follow but one he talks about with fondness. he’s got land rover-money, the car in his garage big and black and almost military grade, and it looks so expensive especially beside the crappy civic you were able to snag for a cheap price because it’s got about three-hundred-thousand mileage already.

you’ve got nothing to give him, other than the lousy rent payment that he doesn’t even really need but is just asking for courtesy because it’d be so weird for him to offer a room, or two now given you have the den too, for free. you’ve got nothing on your name, and if it isn’t pity that makes johnny care for you, then you don’t know what.

maybe his string of one-night stands are right — you are just a kid.

that maybe you really are still too wet behind the ears for the real world that you go running to the next person that could protect you from it, stumbling into his life and licking up every drop of his attention, mistaking his kindness for devotion. his care for love.

you should have known, then, that the thoughts would ripple, leaving you to feel like the days are unnavigable. obsession quickly took root, growing fangs, and it ensnared you; a vice noose at what had been a pleasant coexistence.

hell, you can barely stand being with johnny because of the jealousy. it’s a shameful thing, but a part of you thinks you deserve johnny more than the others do.

you tell yourself that nobody knows about johnny’s nightmares and the horrors that spill from his lips when it’s twelve in the morning and the two of you have hit the bourbon. you tell yourself that nobody knows about johnny’s aversion to the windows in the living room; that the reason why the curtains are a deep green is not to match the new plants he’s allowed you to fill up his home but because they shroud the panels more than the cream ones had. you tell yourself that nobody knows that johnny can sing; that he can cook a mean tomahawk; that he likes reading; that his wrists were hurting so he’s currently scheduled for a surgery; that he’s soft to you.

the women don’t know this johnny, you tell yourself, nails clawing at the hems of your chest. they don’t know him the way i do.

it’s a pathetic whisper. it’s so laughable. so juvenile.

they’re right. they’re right.

(you’re just a—)

“i don’t see you anymore,” johnny murmured one morning, when things have gone quiet again, a cup of coffee sitting on the counter while he watches you throw orange peels into the garburator.

he just got back from a work trip in aberdeen, his exhaustion loud on his face. his hair is overgrown, the bottom ends of his mohawk curling along his nape. he was there for over three weeks, skirting almost close to a month — the longest he’s ever been away — and you had tried so hard not to message. not to drop casual check-ins because you’re sure no tenant ever does that to their landlord, but johnny had remained just as friendly; asking things like if you wanted another potted plant, a monstera or a dragon tree, or if you still had that swiss chocolate he brought home as a gift, or—

the list of his questions grew, but you’ve given him clipped replies, not knowing how to act right anymore since your quiet realization. even the “thing” that you thought you shared with him had fizzled at the drop of the women coming-and-leaving, and you are left to pick up the pieces.

it’s not like you’re broken or ruined or angry. god, no you aren’t.

but you feel unsteady, like now that you know that you liked him more than he liked you, you forgot how to breathe. how to live without that looming burden because your affection is nothing but a burden.

what will johnny do if he finds out? you can’t afford a new place to move into, not when you’re so close to graduating, the finish line just about to graze your very fingertips with how near it is. money is still tight, and johnny has already spoiled you rotten. has shown you how it is to live a comfortable life. and if he learns of your feelings, you would lose this. more than anything, you would lose him.

so you detached yourself from the noose, curling into yourself and using his work trip as a way to move on.

jesus — move on, huh? like there was a ‘you and johnny’ to even move on from. like there was anything there to read. like there was anything there to pull away from; twitching fingers drawing back into the spaces of your ribs, tucking yourself away from his warmth.

“i’ve been so busy, john,” you muttered, just as tired.

“yeah?” he said, still light. still jovial. “let me cook something nice for ye, huh? reward yer hard work and all.”

“i can’t.” you swallowed down the prickle lodged in your throat, eyes ducking away to avoid seeing his. “i’ve got a meeting with the club.”

(you missed the way johnny’s smile dipped.)

“oh,” he said.

you shrugged, internally wincing at your weak attempt at being normal, before gathering your thermos and your messily-wrapped sandwich. johnny was still standing by the counters when you turned around from the sink, his bulk so close to yours in ages. it had been so long since you could just reach over and feel his warmth; feel the soft pudge of what once were hardened muscles.

he’s looking at you with such sad eyes that it’s jarring to truly see because he’s looking at you like—

like he’s losing you.

“i’m gonna…” you trailed off, not really knowing how to end this truly awkward interaction.

“yeah, f’course,” he croaked out. “take care of yerself huh, lass?”

“thanks.” the smile on your face felt more like a grimace. “see you.”

he said nothing more after that, his eyes still searching; still furrowed like something’s changed and something’s happening, and it made your stomach drop because please. please don’t let him notice.

but johnny just watched as you went, his coffee all forgotten.

(something bloomed in the soft press of your heart, flickering like a young ember. you’ve never realized how longing could feel like your mouth is stuffed with cotton.)

johnny hasn't picked up since his return from aberdeen.

they’re getting a new firm so the shuffling has been brutal, leaving johnny to clamber out at five in the morning before coming back home when it’s pushing 11pm. the scruff on his face is becoming more unkempt, salt and pepper becoming more intense, but even then, he’s never looked more ruggedly beautiful as he is now.

it’s like he’s aged years and you shouldn’t be reacting so strongly to the change, but looking at johnny now makes you ache in a different way — core throbbing, throat parched and eyes stinging as you watch him. you’re so drawn to his gravitational pull, unable to detangle yourself now that it feels like he’s more back in your life than he ever was.

and you know it’ll end up hurting you. that you’ll go back to isolating yourself at the drop of a new girl in the house, the smell of her chanel or bvlgari perfume filling up the crevices that you’ve dutifully dusted every saturday morning while johnny’s out for a run. he’s made having casual lovers a cycle, one that you cannot blame him for because johnny doesn’t like you back.

but johnny’s been so attentive to you these days. he’s been a hovering presence even when he looks like he’s one blown wind away from passing out in his exhaustion, his warm hand always on the small of your back as he walks you to the door before chirping a hearty, “kick ass, bon!”

he’s back to fixing up food for you, like that blip in your schedule got him all creative because now, it’s not even just dinner. you’ve got breakfast waiting for you in the microwave, and packed lunch already in your bag, carefully tucked beside the manila folders and plastic envelopes for your capstone. it’s like he’s making up for something which is dumb and wrong because now, you’re all swooping stomach and prickling lungs.

“yummy?” johnny asked, catching you wriggling in excitement at the flavour bursting into your tongue.

your cheeks tingled, feverish, before giving him a shy nod.

he huffed, something so achingly fond, and rested his chin atop his crossed arms. you didn’t know what to focus on — the scruff on his face or the hard lines of webbing veins spilling from beneath his folded sleeves. then, he crooned, “good. that’s good.”

you ran upstairs to your room, throwing an excuse about finishing up your paper, before locking the door, and feeding your cunt two fingers to satiate the burn. the stretch was delicious, raw and sweet, and you humped your wrist, trying to douse the flames burning you up.

you thought of johnny, of the way he looked and how much nicer he’s been; of johnny and the way he was so kind to you, so caring like you’re up in his priority list again, overtaking his busy schedule and the firm restructuring, and his needs.

your orgasm felt like a ripping of reality, your mind splintering at the edges as you’re stretched thin. it felt like you’ve been pulled taut, then released with a resounding snap. it felt euphoric, like the explosion of something intoxicating. something wickedly addicting.

you knew that this could never be unmade. your affections had grown their tendrils, curling past the quiet admiration and spiralling into something unforgiving. into something greater than yourself.

“fuck,” you had rasped out, eyes prickling with tears as shame rushed into your chest. “fuck.”

you didn’t need this. you didn’t need any of this.

but it becomes a cycle — wash, rinse, repeat.

johnny continues to go unshaven; continues to pour his attention to you. and you soak it up, needy and soft, unable to turn away with your tail tucked between your legs. you fall back to the ease of how it had been, hip bumping his, morning coffee shared in the silence, dinner a filling affair once more. all that’s changed are the lingering looks, the resonating touches.

how johnny’s wide hand falls to the small of your back more often; how his fingers just slots against yours every time he passes you your cup; how his eyes rove over your face, always searching for something you dare not hope for.

the last time he flicked his eyes down to watch the way your tongue lapped at your lips, swiping away at the extra cream, johnny’s pupils had constricted before a quiet groan rumbled from his throat. your thighs had quickly clenched close as heat exploded in the pit of your belly, spreading like wildfire through your veins. the pressure on your nub made you hiccup, like a whine dragging itself from your trachea, and johnny had snapped his eyes back to yours so quickly, it made you heady.

“bon–”

“i have to go,” you murmured, clamouring to shaky legs.

you fucked yourself to a deafening point once more, ears ringing as you squirted, the gush of your slick pushing past your fingers. you had to gnash your pillow cover to muffle the moan rumbling from the base of your throat, trying desperately to be good. to not be heard. to be better.

but johnny’s burning gaze on your lips was seared into your memory, blazing on top of everything, and you imagined—

god, you imagined.

the way he’ll take you — beard rough on your chin, thicker fingers spreading you wider, reaching deeper, before finally filling you up with all of him, bullying the whole length of his cock until he bottoms out.

you pressed on your stomach, dizzy, thinking about how johnny would hit that far. you know he would. the women he’s slept with have told you, anyway, in passing, describing how he was in bed with dreamy sighs like they weren’t still reeking of sex and johnny’s aftershave.

(you still wonder why so many of them were mean, their noses tipped up every time they saw you. they were the ones that johnny chose, the ones who were fortunate enough to have been his lover, so you wonder why they still sought you out like you were competition.)

“johnnyyyy!” you moaned, loud and long, your fingers prodding at your walls, and you knew that you’d regret the wrangled cry later, but you didn’t care then, too busy swimming in the aftermath of your orgasm.

but johnny heard it anyway.

he told you that he had heard you.

it happened so quickly — one moment you were bent over the espresso machine, fiddling with the levers with bleary-eyed attempts, then the next thing you knew was that johnny was crowding you, trapping you between the warm bulk of his body and the counter, his eyes furrowed so deeply which made the lines on his forehead run much deeper.

“whu’?” you asked, blinking tiredly at him.

johnny just did this shaky breath that rattled his whole body, like he was propped up by a couple of sticks instead of his whole mass. the mood shifted with that weak inhale though, and you turned to fully face him, ignoring the beeping machine because johnny was still looking at you with those eyes.

the ones that made you feel seen, read, and laid bare before him. like he could weave his eyes past the fabrics of your shirt to peek into the very jagged shards of your heart and see the cross that you’ve been carrying. like he knew things about you that he shouldn’t.

“johnny?” you prodded again, finding his silence alarming.

“yer too young for me, m’eudail,” johnny finally rumbled out, voice thick and deep.

and it’s—

what.

your mind was pressing into your skull, trying desperately to link your synapses together; for the fog to clear and for your coherence to rise above the pull of drowsiness, but johnny was faster. like now that he’s said the first words, the rest just follow, unstoppable in their force and in their meaning.

“i told myself i couldn’t,” he murmured, still breathing shakily; gaze still too fragile. “that yer lookin’ for nothin’ like me, and that yer just tryin’ to get out there with yer career.”

he lifted a hand, fingers twitching, before balling it back down to a fist.

“told myself i’ve gotta let go. found a way to cope and shit.”

johnny took another ragged breath in, and it startled you into gulping one of your own — you didn’t even realize that you’ve held your breath as he spoke to you, your chest clenching tightly as your mind began to link the passageways together, filling you in on what he wasn’t really saying.

“but carin’ f’you was so easy. christ, it was even delightful, hen.” he chuckled, something that was somewhat raw and pained.

you licked at your lips, blinking wide eyes open. johnny tracked the movement, his nose flaring like you’ve done something more than a subconscious thing, his shoulders going taut.

“i like doing all sorta things for you. liked seeing y’eat what i cooked; liked seeing y’use what i got f’you. liked watching y’come home to me. to me.”

a soft sound echoed between the two of you, and it took you an embarrassingly long time to realize that it was a breathless whimper that petered out from the base of your throat. you didn’t even realize that you’ve curled into yourself, almost like you’re trying your best to shrink before johnny, and johnny crooned.

callused palm cupped the round of your cheek, his thumb swiping just underneath your eye. “told myself yer too young; that surely yer looking for someone closer to yer age, but bon, i heard y’last night.”

you startled in his hold, a quiet gasp piercing through the heat. johnny’s lips danced with mirth.

“s’right. heard a loud thump against the wall and ran upstairs, all worried, but guess my surprise, yes? y’were moanin’ my name so loudly, it’s like y’left yer door open.”

“johnny, i–”

“tell me,” he said, moving closer, his chest pressing against yours. “tell me t’stop, bon, an’ i will. but y’ve got to tell me. y’ve got to push me away.”

you looked at him, your eyes trembling at what he was laying out thickly, and your throat going parched at the blanketing desire rippling from him. there were so many things you wanted to ask, but his breath was tickling the bridge of your nose, dancing so close to the bow of your lips, and your heart ached.

desire coursed through you in waves, dribbling from the cup, and you lurched forward, chasing after his lips.

johnny melted into you. his hesitant touch turned greedier, more possessive, mapping your body and pulling you closer into him. his mouth devoured your own, gulping down the pleased little sighs and keens spilling from your lips. he kissed like a man starved, but you weren’t any softer; all nippy and desperate, fingers digging into his hair and fisting at the thin strands.

it was feverish, almost to a boiling point, and you needed more.

god, you needed more.

“johnny,” you mewled when he pulled away just enough to slide his damp lips along the cut of your jaw. “johnny, need you.”

“christ,” johnny sounded so wrecked, his voice rumbling deeply from where his lips were suckling on the soft curve of your neck. “i’ve been dreaming of this, mo luaidh. i knew i shouldn’t but yer so sweet to me and i– i wanted.” he said that word like it was dirty; like he’d been fighting tooth-and-nail to suppress it.

it made you tremble to hear how johnny desired you just as much. he had always felt unobtainable; always danced too far from your grasp and was always bigger than what you knew you could handle — his lovers had always looked divinely; pretty, yes, but fierce in their own right like they knew how to live without johnny; and you know they could, because they didn’t need johnny the way you do. they didn’t look at johnny like you do, like he hung the stars with those thick and aged hands of his.

but as you stood there, feeling every word punctured onto your skin, you couldn’t help but begin to cry, the tears springing from your eyes to slip down your cheeks. johnny rubbed your back, soothing and gentle.

“i wanted t’take you – make y’all mine,” he whispered.

you hiccuped, shaky from the weight of your hunger, and nuzzled close. your hands fell from fisting his hair so you could claw at the sharp corners of his shoulder blades, feeling the muscles there rippling, all taut when he bent forward and kissed you.

“please,” you began, feeling your mind thinning because you wanted more. more. more. more. “i can be– johnny, s’always been you. nobody else but you.”

you tugged him away, cupping his jaw and forcing him to look at you. and god, johnny looked so devastatingly beautiful, his eyes all furrowed and his cheeks all flushed, and his lips spit-sheened.

“fuck me,” you whispered, tired of dancing around.

he groaned, something that sounded so pained, before he was tugging you with him, up the stairs and skirting past your room and into his.

you’ve never been in johnny’s room before, just as he had never been in yours since you moved in, and until now you still don’t know what you had been expecting upon walking in, but the smell of johnny wafting through was almost gut-punching. he smelled so close, like he was everywhere — surrounding you from the ground-up, dousing every pore with him until even your mouth felt full.

and johnny, he smelt like home.

there were no more words uttered as he stripped you off your pyjamas, sure fingers making their way down the buttons, unlatching them from the hemmed slits. you watched with heavy eyes, blinking slowly like everything had been wrung out of you, leaving you pliant and soft. johnny hummed, appreciative, and mapped kisses from your heaving chest, teeth nipping at the fat, before moving on, sprinkling every expanse of your skin with such reverence.

your hands were balled to your chest when he reached the jut of your belly, his chin hovering just above your crotch. johnny flicked up his darkened eyes at you, asking silently.

you gave him a nod, not trusting your own voice too.

johnny’s eyes had turned into slits, pleased, and hefted himself up just enough to be able to fit his hands on your hips and tugged your pants down. you shivered, the warmth in his room not enough to suppress the winter chill, and it made you buck into him. johnny comforted you with a quiet shh, rubbing his palm on the pudge of your thigh in soothing circles.

you don’t know why that touch was what did it for you, but soft sobs finally spilled from your mouth, scrunching up the desire into something undeniably frail. johnny didn’t startle though, like he knew that you had been wounding up to this tipping point, and instead continued to touch you tenderly, almost like if he could, he would cradle you close.

“i love you,” you said, sniffling, because that was the crux of your vulnerability, right?

you love him. god, you love him.

you’ve loved him since the day he sat you down for dinner and told you that you’ve got nothing to worry about, not anymore and not with him around. you’ve loved him since the day he flipped the den so you can have your own space for work; don’t mind the fact that he didn’t know if you were going to even stay, just that he insisted that you deserved that room either way. you’ve loved him since that swiss chocolate, since that cup of coffee, since he’s begun filling your painfully lonely days with his care.

you’ve loved him since and now—

“oh, mo graidh,” johnny breathed out. “i love you too.” he kissed your thigh, scruff ticklish. “gu siorraidh is gu brath.”

you wanted to ask what that meant but johnny was already moving, sitting back up to strip out of his own shirt. you trailed your eyes down his body, capturing your trembling lips between your teeth at how breathtaking he was — soft with fat but still heavy with muscles, fuzzy with hair with the smattering pooling just underneath his belly button before trailing down to where they were hidden underneath his pants.

you twitched before finally braving enough to reach out and brush your knuckle over the indents of his softened abs. johnny hummed, something that curled with appreciation, before covering your hand with his and holding it there.

“all of me s’yers, hen,” he said with such finality that you felt it settle deep within the marrows of your bones.

you nodded, emotionally spent and johnny lilted something else in scottish, so soft that it was almost a croon. you let him manhandle you — pushing your hips up so he could slot a pillow under for your back; you were so malleable to his touch as he took over, bending once again for a kiss while his fingers danced past the laces of your panties and into the damp heat of your pussy.

you moaned, eyelashes fluttering when he pressed one in, so careful and slow, but you were so wet that it slid in with no resistance, gobbling it up knuckle-deep. johnny had groaned like he could feel your rising euphoria, before nosing along your temple as he wiggled the finger around, stroking at your walls. you wondered if he was going to tease but then he was pulling it out, only to plunge two in the next thrust, curling and stretching, and oh—

oh, ssss’good.

you don’t even remember how long he’d been spearing you with his thicker fingers, rough and long and reaching far, far deeper than you could with your own, but you laid there, sobbing, feeling your slick slip out, pooling, making a mess of your thighs and his sheets. johnny had moved from suckling on your neck to taking a nipple in his mouth, teeth softly gnashing at the bud. you felt like you were on fire, burning from your core, aching for a release.

“cum f’me, m’eudail,” johnny groaned, breathless himself, his cock poking underneath his boxers, the fabric all wet from where his tip was, leaking pearled pre-. “let me see you.”

“johnny, i’m gonna– i’m–!” you squealed, legs jumping, squeezing johnny’s sides as you jolted, hips twitching at the bloating ecstasy. johnny just pushed down on your thigh, not letting up with the pace of his fingers. he was fucking you so hard that his hand’s slapping against your skin, his palm grinding down on your clit just right, and the pleasure sizzled into something biting. into something that was almost painful.

it was catastrophic, pulling you into two directions. johnny’s everywhere — his scent in your lungs, his fingers deep in your pussy, his mouth hot and wet on your tits, and like this, like this, you felt yourself breaking.

ripping—

then, your orgasm was punched out of you.

your senses had gone awry — throat throbbing as you cried out, your eyes going blind as they rolled into your skull at the final curl of johnny’s fingers. white noise filled your ears, and it was like you were submerged underneath water, wading through the crashing tides of your climax.

you came back to johnny peppering your face with soft kisses, whispering something you couldn’t decipher past the croon of your name and something like you did good and so beautiful. he’d already pulled his fingers out, and used both arms to cradle you close. you felt so empty — god, that wasn’t even his cock, yet — but your body thrummed pleasantly, almost like the itch was finally scratched.

“johnny?” you puffed out, voice all scratchy and weak.

“i’m here, bon. i’m here.”

you hummed, curling into his chest, head pillowed by his arm. you wanted to ask what about his own euphoria, but johnny seemed so content just laying there with you, not really desperate or needy, so you let it go, losing the battle against your drowsiness before finally slipping into a quiet sleep.

johnny’s there for your graduation, carrying a big bouquet of only eden roses. you didn’t even know that those particular ones were expensive until someone from the graduation party oohed and aahed to their friend.

your cheeks burned when their friend chirped, “well someone’s clearly loved.”

you know that what they said would have had johnny agreeing loudly if he was allowed in the lineup because he is never one to be shy about what he feels; or not anymore, anyway. he loves so fully and openly that you still wonder why it took the two of you so long to get together, but the days since then had just been kind and filling that you have long forgotten how it was to not be with him.

they’re going to call your name soon, and your stomach swoops, excitement and anxiety mixing in a dizzying tandem.

you’re graduating with a bachelor’s degree in psychology and a diploma in early childhood education, and this is not where you thought you would be when you first started university, but it’s the happiest you have ever been. and sure much of your poli-sci courses were scrapped when you changed majors, and that’s also a lot of money wasted, but you have three job opportunities lined up already and it’s like the seismic shift in your life had finally corrected itself.

(your mom said she’s sorry that she and your pa couldn’t come, but you’ve stopped longing for their acceptance and told her it was fine.

there’s a date saved in your calendar, though, for a brunch with her and that was enough.)

you ducked into johnny’s arms when the graduation ceremony ended, careful of the bouquet he’s holding.

“congratulations, bonnie,” he says, a hearty laugh rumbling from his chest. “christ, i’m so, so proud of you.”

you never pegged yourself for a crybaby, but tears begin to pool in the corners of your eyes at the weight of his words.

“thank you,” you reply, soft and raw, and honest.

johnny pulls you in, his lips warm as they’re pressed on your forehead.

and this, just like this, you know things will only get better from here on out.

#suns #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #soap x reader #cod x reader #f!reader #read tags!!

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nxtaliaistyping · 2 months ago

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Jason Todd with breeding kink pls 👉👈?

Jason Todd + Breeding Kink <3

18+ smut, fem reader

“C’mon, push back into me.” Jason says gruffly, having slowed his pace down to a few slow but effortlessly deep thrusts into your cunt from behind.

When he’d come back from patrol, you’d practically jumped on him, needy beyond belief thanks to a particularly nasty wet dream. With the dawn sun streaming in through the blinds, Jason had hurriedly sought to give you what you wanted.

The way the soft orange rays bathed his face simply made you more desperate, reflecting off the deep pools of blue in his eyes. After ridding you both of clothes, and Jason’s fingers having pumped into you deliciously, you’d pushed him down and sank your needy pussy on him. In the frenzy, he hadn’t put a condom on, figuring he’d just pull out. While not the best solution for a man as responsible as Jason prides himself on being, it’d have to do.

Now, having grown tired of your messy bounces and instead thrown you into doggy style, he still manages to tease. Making you throw your ass back on him, impaling you on him after he’d been fucking your brains out.

“Jay…”

“No no, you can do it. I was gonna cum and didn’t wanna pull out just yet.”

Immediately your cunt tightens around him and you let out a pitiful whine. Using the most of your core strength, you fuck yourself on him with as rough of a pace as you physically can. He groans, feeling his cock throb at your determination.

“Don’t want you to pull out.” You sniffle, looking back at him from over your shoulder.

“I have to baby, m’not wearing a condom.”

“Don’t care…”

You truly don’t xare, about that or the fact you sound like a petulant child. You need him, need him to cum deep inside of you, to milk him for everything he can possibly give you. So you say three incredibly dangerous words.

“Please breed me.”

Your lover lets out a strangled noise, straight from the back of his throat. It’s almost like a dog being kicked, as he grips your hips hard to still you. His breathing becomes ragged.

“Fuck princess, you can’t say stuff like that.”

“I can Jason…I want it. I want you to breed me.”

He knows he shouldn’t, but god he nearly blew his load right there and then at your words. Taking a few shaking breaths, he calms himself down enough to grab at your throat, hoisting you up so you back arches and he can look down at your face.

“Y’want me to put a baby in you? Is that right?”

Your moan tells him everything, as he drops your head unceremoniously before moving his hips again. This time there’s no holding back, no he forces your upper half into the mattress and starts to pound you. The thick sound of him slapping against your backside with each thrust fills the air, and you nearly choke on that and the wanton noises that keep tumbling from your parted lips.

You can barely breathe, barely think as he rams into you again and again, making more noise than you’ve ever heard him make before.

“Okay…okay princess, I’ll give y’what you want. I’ll give you a baby…”

Gripping your thighs, he pulls out before flipping you over like a rag-doll; landing on your back with a soft grunt, you look up at him with bated breath as he pushes your thighs up and entering you again.

“Gonna fuckin’ breed you, just like you asked. Gotta make sure it takes.”

He angles himself before he starts fucking you nice and deep, watching your eyes roll back as you swear you can feel him messing up your insides with his cock. Your cunt squeezes him like a vice, and he knows it won’t be much longer.

“Keep squeezin’ me just like that, gonna make me cum deep inside this sweet pussy.” He mumbles, not completely sure what he’s actually saying with how turned on he is. “Gonna keep you nice and full.”

With a cry, his words tip you over the edge as you start to cum all over him. At your cunt gushing, he moans loudly and digs his nails into the plush of your hips so hard it almost hurts.

Then he’s cumming, and you gasp and twitch at the sensation. His head falls into the crook of your neck as he gasps and moans, swearing he's seeing stars or some kind of angelic apparition.

It takes him ages to pull out again, but when he does, he quickly collects any cum that seeps out and pushes it back inside, ignoring your overstimulated whimpers. Gently he sets your thighs back down, huge hands kneading the slightly sore muscles as he catches his bearings.

Although the next morning, he goes out and buys a morning after pill and watches you take it. He's not ready to be a father just yet.

#dc #dc smut #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #red hood smut #red hood #the red hood #smut #batfamily smut #batfamily x reader #breeding k1nk

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caotictimmy · 2 months ago

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if you're doing mouthwashing can i have daisuke x reader hcs plz... just pretend the tulpar never crashed i want him to be happy hjdkjkdsjg

OMG ANON…you get me. Daisuke has me in a CHOKEHOLD. Ok so here are how the headcanons are gonna go. Pre dating/confession. Dating and NSFW. I had another anon ask me to do NSFW head canons with daisuke. So why not kill two birds with one stone. The regular head canon r gonna be Gn. But the NSFW are gonna have some AFAB stuff. Still can kinda be read as Gn.

Crushing - Confession

- I believe Daisuke crushing on you would be a very, you fell first, but he fell harder kinda thing.

- I think that because Daisuke can be well.. a bit dense (still love him though). That he’s not really gonna pick up on any hints or flirting. So you kinda of have to wait till he realizes he likes you.

- When he does realize he likes you is probably when you were sticking up for him against Swansea(I love you Swansea but you still were mean to Daisuke🙁).

- It’s gonna be easy to tell when he likes you. This man is gonna be so obvious😭🙏

- We all know he’s eager to please right? He’s doing this with you 2 times more. Always asking if you needed anything, he’d be right on it.

-Little things to. I’m talking some laying his shirt over a puddle for you to step on. I feel like he tries to woe you with these gestures.(and it works)

- Daisuke loves listening to your voice. No matter how your voice sounds. He’ll go out of his ways to find you to ramble on about something. He thinks you look and sound cute rambling. o(^w^)o

- Also I think he just likes looking at you. There have been MANY times where Swansea has smacked Daisuke in the back of the head, cause he got sidetrack staring at you with this very lovesick grin. Staring like you personally hung the stars for him.

- Daisuke would be a bit too nervous to think of confessing first. So Swansea would definitely be pushing him to confess. He’s tired of seeing you two ogling at each other and doing nothing about it😒.

- Our sly little man some how convinced Curly to make a cake for him to give you. (I swear on my life curly is a die hard romantic but I’m saving that for when I do headcanons on him later)

- I feel like Daisuke would sneak in your room. Waiting for you to enter. When you do he lifts up the cake in his hands, “ Imadeyouthiscakewillyoudateme” He rambled out. Being scared you would say no.

- But when you say yes. I’m not kidding he shouted “WHOO HOO!!!”. It was very funny. Daisuke would quickly put the cake down and rush to hug you,

Dating

- I feel like the affection he likes to receive is words of affection and physical contact. And for what he usually gives. Acts of service and physical affection. Let me explain

-(Daisuke receiving) It’s a bit obvious that Daisuke probably hasn’t gotten a lot of praise in his life. So I believe that he absolutely melts when you give him these encouraging words. It can range from a lot. From a small, “good job” to a “I love you so much, no matter what.”. It makes him so happy like you don’t even understand.

-(Daisuke receiving) Idk it’s just a an itch in my brain telling me. I think he likes all kinds of physical affection. From holding his pinky, to wrapping you arms and legs around him cuddling. If it insures some sort of touching he’s down. I also think he like resting his head on either your thighs, or chest. Resting his eyes. PLEASE scratch his head or tangle your fingers through his hair. He loves it so much. Like it calms him down so much.

-(Daisuke giving) You can’t tell me this man isn’t at least a bit clingy. Not in a “if you talk to someone else I’ll kill them” type of way but a “ you make me feel safe and secure” kind of way. Does that make sense? Anyways, he loves flopping onto you when he sees you laying down. Like I’m talking full rag doll flop. I fully believe he brought a stuff animal on the ship. So he fully treats you like a stuff animal. Quick random switch. I don’t think he likes being the small spoon. Only because I feel like he needs to sleep holding something. I don’t think he would mind being big spoon. But overall he prefers you two facing each other.

-(Daisuke giving) We all know he has a knack for trying to be as helpful as he can. We can see that when he tried to fix the vent! To trying to crawl up it to save Anya… guys I can’t do this anymore. ANYWAYS. This man does not want you to lift a FINGER. He is so head over heels inlove with you. He’ll do anything for you. He’ll ask him to bring you a star and he’d ask which one. LIKE HE LOVES YOU SM AND JUST WANTS TO SEE YOU HAPPY.

- He loves kissing. Receiving and giving. From a simple peck, to kissing your face all over. He just loves it so much. He finds it so romantic. Listen hear me out. Non sexual neck kissing. He could be waking up before you(highly unlikely). Softly kissing your neck to wake you up. Just soft and sweet.

- Late night talks are a must with him. It could be about anything really. From what plot twist you guys thought would happen on the shitty soap opera you guys were watching. What ifs, what your guys future would look like, what you guys would be if you were animals. The topics you guys talk about are far and wide. But he enjoys the comfort of being by you.

- You can’t tell me this man isn’t a big back. Daisuke definitely brought a bunch of snacks with him. So he will happily share with you. He is a very giving person. But also expect to get your food stolen sometimes.. make sure you get extra food in your plate to give him the rest. He would appreciate it a lot!!!!!:3

- He also really loves spending anytime he can with you. Especially if it involves games. Let me tell you. YOU DO NOT WANNA PLAY DRESS TO IMPRESS WITH THIS MAN. He would cook you so hard in the game it’s not even funny. He’s literally in the top 10 players in dress to impress.

NSFW - DO NOT READ IF YOUR A MINOR OR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW (AFAB)

- Praise kink. YOU GUYS CANT TELL ME I’M WRONG. You guys could water board me. Scream at me that I’m wrong. Every time you praise him when y’all are getting freaky. Busting. Like it gets him going SO HARD (pun intended) Like omg… Especially if you praise his efforts/ how good he’s doing. Pray that you’ll be able to walk after.

- This man is LOUD…… grunting, whimpering, moaning, panting. Any noise you can think of hes made it. Like he doesn’t even think of suppressing his noises. He also doesn’t want you to either! He loves hearing you. He thinks the louder you are = the better he’s doing. So please don’t suppress your noises he’ll get so sad:(. But back to the topic. This man needs something to muffle him. Wether that be kissing you, or lightly nibbling your neck. When he starts to get to loud you need to find a way to shut him up.

-Speaking of loud Swansea has definitely caught you guys once’s. Y’all were a bit to loud and he was wonder what was going on and… Let’s just say he wasn’t able to look at you guys for a bit. But after he gave Daisuke a fist bump. Man to man🗣️🗣️🗣️

- Daisuke is willing to try almost everything. I full heartedly believe this man is a virgin. The furthest he’s ever gone is making out. So he’s eager to learn! He was a bit nervous your guys first time. But after a bit that nervousness dissolved into eagerness! I don’t think he’d be into hurting you badly. And I don’t think he likes pain that much either. But I think he would like his hair being pulled. Or maybe you lightly scratching his back.

- I think he would be open to having sex not just in your rooms. Either in random room barely used. Or a couple of times on the couch when everyone was in their sleeping quarters. Thankfully you guys weren’t caught!!! But Curly was wondering what that clear sticky substances was on the couch…

-(AFAB) Munch no question asked. LISTEN WHEN I SAW HE WANTED AN EXTRA PACK OF SWEETENER I IMMEDIATELY THOUGHT BIG BACK MUNCH BEHAVIOR. Also because this man loves to please. DO YALL SEE ME VISION. This man who’ll slurp it up like no tomorrow. His favorite made is your pleasure is his pleasure. But omg like he gets so into eating you out it’s not even funny… You have to pry his face away from your core. And he looks so hot. His hair a mess. His eyes dazed but still has that love in them. And your juice all over his face like…

- He doesn’t have a favorite position. He likes way too many. And when you asked him what position he liked the most, he only responded with, “how can I pick a favorite when there all so good, and what about the ones we haven’t tried yet!” Safe to say you guys went to go try some more positions 😜

- I know I’ve been doing really freaky headcanons but I think Daisuke loves soft sex and morning sexy to. Maybe the morning after a bad day HES still feeling bad. You both are still groggy but you have time before you have to get up. Hell sink himself into. Before thrusting as his arms are wrapped around your waist. His hot breath on your neck, as he trailed kisses all along it. Just because he can be a freak doesn’t mean he can’t be really soft either.

- Daisuke loves cock warming. Try. Try to prove me wrong. He loves cuddling. He loves being as close to you as possible. What’s better than combining the two! But after a bit he does get a bit impatient and starts to subtly thrust. He really is trying to not to be you feel to good!

Authors note: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I STARTED THIS WHEN I GOT HOME AND FELL ASLEEP MID WAY THROUGH WRITING THIS. Again sorry for request being slow I’m trying my best😭🙏

#mouthwash smut #mouthwashing smut #mouthwash x reader #daisuke mouthwashing #mouthwashing #daisuke smut #mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing game #mouthwash game #mouthwash #daisuke x reader

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zorobff · 1 year ago

Text

how to disappear. (opla!zoro x fem!reader)

synopsis: joining luffy’s crew made you believe that you’d finally escaped your former pirate crew and nightmare of a captain for good. that is, until a certain butler starts looking a little too familiar. good thing zoro’s keeping a close eye on you.

warnings: opla spoilers (ep 3), some direct dialogue from opla, mentions of verbal/physical abuse, kuro is just a weirdo tbh, reader is called a bitch, protective zoro, for the sake of the story sham and buchie joined the black cat pirates after reader left

word count: 4.7k

“this guy is full of shit.”

you knock your shoulder into zoro’s wider one. “be nice. and so what if he is?”

zoro gives you a pointed glare. “then we should turn around and look for someone who can actually help us find a ship.”

“all business, as per usual,” you reply, with a purposefully dramatic sigh. “why can’t you have a little fun?”

“what about this is supposed to be fun?” zoro spits out the word like it’s poisonous. “this is the blandest village i’ve ever seen.”

you scoff. “now you’re the one that’s full of shit. nothing’s ever bland with us and you know it.”

the us in question was your newly formed pirate crew… if you and luffy could even be considered that. having left the ship you’d been on a few years ago, you were in search of a new crew. luffy was persistent and charming — when you’d crossed paths in shells town, it took little to no time for him to convince you to join his hunt for the one piece. zoro and nami, on the other hand, had yet to follow in your footsteps.

“well, considering that we’ve only been traveling together for a day and a half and i’ve already escaped a marine base, defeated a marine captain, and fought a clown with devil fruit powers… i’d actually have to agree.”

you can’t help but giggle at his sarcastic delivery. “be grateful, zoro. not many pirate crews are this fun to be on, trust me. oh wait, that’s right, you still haven’t officially joined—”

“tell me about your old pirate crew,” interjects zoro, your comment having piqued his interest.

you notice that the playful atmosphere dissipates. “god, where do i even start?”

zoro answers that for you. “why did you leave?”

“starting with the hard hitting questions, huh?” you joke, mostly to stall. you clear your throat before you answer. “well, it was different. nothing like what luffy has going on. he actually cares about his crew… and even those who aren’t technically on it.”

at that, a smile tugs at the corner of zoro’s lips. even you crack a small grin. although as you continue speaking, it fades.

“on my old crew, we were dispensable. anytime something went wrong, our own captain would threaten to kill us. it was… scary, to be completely honest. there were so many times when i thought i’d die with that filthy crew. and i never wanted that. so as soon as we docked at shells town, i left.”

zoro’s jaw clenches as imagines the things you’d seen and been subjected to. “this old captain of yours sounds like a real—”

“he was a nightmare,” you tell him. “he didn’t care that i was the only woman on board, he treated me just as horribly, if not worse.”

zoro stops so suddenly that it takes you a second to realize he’s not walking alongside you.

“what do you mean by that.” the way zoro phrases the inquiry doesn’t even make it sound like a question. more like a demand. his narrowed eyes are fixed solely on you. holding his gaze feels… intense.

you can’t help but glance away as you answer him. “he was just a bit of a creep.”

before zoro has the chance to try and extract more information out of you, a familiar voice calls both your names. you’re not really sure when you and zoro had fallen behind but from where you currently stand, the rest of your group looks miniature. or perhaps it’s just the massive size of the mansion behind them that makes luffy, nami, and usopp look pocket-sized in comparison.

“why’d you stop walking?!” your captain shouts, hands pressed on each side of his mouth to amplify his voice. “get over here, we’re about to go in through the top secret entrance!”

you vaguely make out usopp gesturing for luffy to keep his voice down. you’re sure that would warrant another comment from zoro about his reliability but he’s too busy staring at you with that expectant look in his eyes.

“we better catch up,” you tell him, heading in the direction of the deluxe home.

he allows you to dodge the subject and sighs, walking in long strides to catch up to you.

“i’ve never seen a house this big before,” luffy admits, admiring the mansion along with the wellkept greenery surrounding it.

“awesome, right?” usopp gloats, walking around like he owned the place. “kaya’s given me an open invitation to drop by anytime i want.”

“wow.” you’re not sure if luffy was just going along with usopp’s act or if he really believed him. knowing the devil fruit user, it was more than likely the latter. “all this for just one person?”

“well, she lives here with her butler and a few other staff,” usopp replies, leaning against the stone well that sat in the middle of the lawn.

“money really shows you who people truly are,” nami mutters, eyes scanning the property. “most people only care about themselves and what’s theirs.”

zoro is quick to throw the insult back at her. “sounds like someone i know.”

you roll your eyes at his comment, though you make no effort to disagree with him. nami was a little on the materialistic side.

“and a small staff makes for easy pickings,” she continues, proving your point.

“we just got here and you’re already planning on robbing the place blind?” you ask though you already know the answer.

“at least a little blurry,” she smirks, following behind luffy and usopp who walk toward the entrance.

you and zoro share a look. one that says disappointed but not surprised.

going under a shrub shaped as an arch, you’re met with a beautiful pond. you admire the pink lilies that float at the top and the bushes that were intricately trimmed into the shape of various animals. even if the people that lived here were filthy rich, at least they had good decorative taste.

“so if you have an invitation, why are we going around the back way?” luffy ponders.

usopp’s answer is nonchalant. “oh, i never use the front entrance. like i said, this is the vip entrance reserved for special guests.”

zoro scoffs. “this guy’s definitely–”

“don’t start,” you groan, cutting him off.

abruptly, usopp freezes and spins around, attempting to usher your crew back. “you know what, there’s actually a more exclusive entrance this way–”

the sharp swoosh of a knife cutting through the air and burying itself in the ground between usopp’s feet cuts him off. from the direction the kitchen utensil was thrown stands a heavyset gentleman with his face wrinkled in anger. his demanding voice booms through the garden, “the hell are you doing here, usopp?”

the dark-skinned boy fumbles over his word. “buchi, buddy, uh, kaya’s expecting me.”

“another one of your lies,” the man – seemingly named buchi – seethes, grabbing him by the collar. “you ain’t welcome here and you know it.”

“i know nothing of the sort,” usopp retorts, keeping his cool even when he was practically being lifted off the ground by his shirt. “i’m here to give kaya an extra special gift.”

before buchi can get another word out, a feminine voice calls out for your companion. coming down the steps is a frail looking girl in a pink dress. on her arm is a man dressed in a crisp suit, presumably the butler usopp had mentioned earlier. though, from where you stand you can’t see either of their faces too clearly.

“what a wonderful surprise,” she exclaims, breathlessly.

“kaya!” usopp exclaims, returning her enthusiasm. buchi has no choice but to let him go, begrudgingly. usopp makes sure to shoot him a smug look before walking towards the young girl. “happy birthday.”

the butler clears his throat, not afraid to intrude on their special moment. “usopp, we’ve discussed this before. you mustn’t show up unannounced.”

“nonsense, klahadore.” kaya smiles warmly. “have you come to tell me another story? i do love hearing about your adventures.”

“i’ll do you one better,” usopp smirks with such confidence that even you’re left wondering what kind of surprise he has up his sleeve. “i brought some of my crew!” he gestures back towards the four of you, proudly.

your excitement vanishes. “oh. the surprise is… us.”

“well, that’s boring,” luffy agrees, just as disappointed as you are.

kaya, on the other hand, is none the wiser. “it’s so nice to meet you. you must all stay for dinner.”

klahadore lowers his voice. “miss kaya, it is a bit last minute. i’m afraid the kitchen hasn’t prepared for any extra guests.”

“please,” begs kaya, softly. “it’s my birthday. can’t be too much trouble can it?”

giving in, klahadore purses his lips. “anything for you, miss kaya.”

luffy claps his hands together. “alright! when do we eat?”

“you don’t. not dressed like that, at least.” the butler directs himself to a staff member with teal colored hair. “sham, kindly show usopp and his friends to the guest suites. you will bathe and change before dinner.”

she follows his orders and leads the way. luffy, usopp, nami, and zoro trail behind her and you go to do the same. however, all it takes is a quick glance to stop you dead in your tracks. usually, you weren’t one to stare but klahadore’s face. that stare. so dark and depraved.

“yes, miss?” he asks, holding your gaze. “can i help you?”

“n-no, i…” your throat goes dry as you attempt to recover smoothly. “i just wanted to, um, thank you for being so hospitable.”

his lips curve upwards into a sinister grin. “the pleasure’s all mine.” as if to confirm your worst fear, klahadore uses his palm to readjust his glasses. his beady eyes gauge your reaction closely.

the familiar gesture sends chills down your spine. appearance-wise, he had changed drastically but his aura was still just as menacing as you remember it. he was still the corrupt pirate captain you used to serve under. you feel like a weak and helpless subordinate all over again.

“klahadore!” giggles kaya. “you’re smiling! that’s certainly a rarity.”

he hums. “i’ve simply come to the realization that having guests once in a while can truly be a delight.”

his sickeningly sweet tone makes your stomach turn. just the fact that you were standing in front of him – captain kuro – again after all these years was nauseating in itself. last you’d heard he had died at the hands of captain morgan. how was this even possible? then again, he wasn’t dubbed kuro of a hundred plans for no reason. he always had a trick or two up his sleeve. you assumed this was no different.

“hey, you comin’?”

you turn around to see zoro waiting for you. he meets your gaze for a moment. the softness of his eyes is a stark contrast to kuro’s. it’s a breath of fresh air. he then shifts his attention to your former captain and you swear his eyes darken.

“yeah, sorry,” you mumble, trying not to look shaken as you walk up the steps.

zoro follows behind you, this time closer than before.

“why would anybody even need this many clothes?”

“it’s not about need with these people, luffy. it’s about want,” nami spits, thumbing through the various fabrics on the wall.

“at least she’s rich and nice,” luffy replies, innocently.

nami rolls her eyes. “yeah, letting us stay for dinner must be her idea of charity work.”

“what are we even supposed to wear?” luffy continues, uninterested in nami’s criticism of the rich.

“anything you want. when are you ever going to get the opportunity to wear things this nice?”

you step out from behind the changing board where you’d swapped out your old tee and cargo skirt for an elegant satin dress. it was a stunning shade of olive green and frilly lace decorated the edges. not to mention, it hugged your curves in all the right ways.

nami’s eyes widen. “see, she’s got the right idea. you look amazing.”

you smile, bashfully. “honestly, i feel amazing.”

“you look the same to me,” your captain shrugs.

nami shoots him a death glare but you intervene before she can scold him.

“way to keep me humble, luffy.”

“no problem!”

at that exact moment, a freshly showered zoro arrives donning a silk robe. he eyes the multitude of garments that cover every inch of the room, not particularly impressed.

“there you are. don’t you think she looks nice?” nami asks him, gesturing towards you. she doesn’t notice how you shrink under zoro’s gaze. neither does he, as his eyes take their time raking over you, from top to bottom.

he hums. “suits you.” with that, he sets off towards a chair in the corner of the room.

“seriously?” sighs nami, exasperated. “are you two physically unable to give compliments or something?”

“hey, doesn’t that butler seem familiar to you guys?” zoro asks, promptly ignoring nami’s complaint.

his question causes your breath to hitch. you’d pushed the kuro problem to the back of your mind while you were in search of a suitable dinner outfit. you figured that as long as your crew was by your side, he wouldn’t dare try anything. and even if he did… well, you’d seen what had happened to axe-hand morgan and buggy.

“yeah, i think he was at the last dinner party i attended,” nami replies sarcastically, taking a handful of dresses behind the changing board.

as he takes a seat, zoro grumbles, “i swear i’ve seen him before.”

“where?” you can’t help but ask, fiddling with the lace on the neckline of your dress.

“so far, i’ve got two suspicions. a wanted poster or funky bar on mirrorball island. you ever been?”

you know zoro’s teasing you, judging by the grin on his face. after all, funky bar was known to get insanely rowdy; never would he imagine finding someone as gentle as you there. but what he didn’t know is that it happened to be one of kuro’s favorite bars. per his request, you and the rest of the black cat pirates frequented it often, so he was more than likely right about having seen kuro there. he’d probably even seen you in passing, once or twice. thankfully, he doesn’t seem to have any recollection of that.

the thought of zoro knowing about your past forms a knot in the pit of your stomach. would he think less of you for having joined such a ruthless crew at one point in your life? what if it put a strain on the friendship you’d worked so hard to form?

“i’ve, uh, heard of it,” you decide to reply, pushing down your worries for the time being.

he tilts his head slightly, thinking out loud. “then again, i have seen a lot of wanted posters and bars in my time as a pirate hunter.”

you feel a grin creep onto your face. “probably more bars than posters, huh?”

zoro mirrors your smile. “shut up.”

by the time dinner rolls around, the entire crew is doing what they do best.

luffy is stuffing his face, nami is attempting to swindle one of the staff, zoro is hanging by the drinks, and you’re hanging by zoro.

“hey zoro, you gotta try this!” luffy calls through a mouthful of food.

“i’ve got all i need right here,” he mutters, taking a swig out of his champagne flute.

“you know, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you choke down something that isn’t alcohol,” you comment, watching the way he downs the glass in one go.

dryly, he replies, “that’s because i haven’t.”

“very on brand.”

“ladies and gentlemen,” calls out that voice from the top of the stairs. “may i present… miss kaya.”

arm in arm, kuro and kaya walk down the steps, all eyes on the birthday girl and her stunning gown. well, except you. your eyes never leave the so-called butler by her side. your jaw clenches when he has the audacity to meet your gaze and hold it. shameless bastard.

once they reach the bottom, merry leads kaya to the guests while kuro takes his post at the bottom of the stairs… right next to the drink table. before you can think about steering yourself and zoro away, kuro speaks.

“forgive me if i am speaking out of line, madam, but i must inform you. you look positively radiant,” he purrs, soaking in your appearance. he looks ready to pounce.

you can’t stop your eyes from rolling. good to know he’s the same pervert he used to be.

looking between you both and sensing your discomfort, zoro steps in. “and you look familiar.”

kuro’s head stiffly turns to face him, eyes peeling away from you. “highly doubtful, sir.”

“funky bar? mirror ball island?”

“funky bar?” kuro repeats, disgusted. “well, i can assure you i’ve never patronized that type of establishment.”

while it was amusing to see your highly esteemed former captain lie through his teeth, the tension between him and zoro was unbearable.

“well then.” zoro continues with his little interrogation. “ever been on a wanted poster?”

you cringe at his bluntness. sometimes it seemed like he had less of a filter than luffy.

kuro puts on a scandalized face at the question. “sir! such an accusation is highly offensive.” tugging on his collar, he goes to remove himself from zoro’s probing. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i’m going to help prepare the dinner table.”

he leaves, en route to the dining room. zoro’s eyes follow his figure until he disappears, squinting as he racks his brain for any further recollection of this suspicious butler.

you sigh. if zoro was going to continue being so relentless, you were sure the night would end in bloodshed and uncovered secrets.

“keep this coming,” zoro demands, handing the empty wine bottle to sham. she takes it with a glare.

“would it kill you to say please?” you ask, slicing the slab of fish on your plate into smaller pieces.

“the service here is shitty. why should i have to be polite?”

you scowl. “remind me to never have dinner with you again.”

zoro turns to you with that cocky grin of his. “what if i asked nicely?”

his quip makes your heart flutter but you manage to keep your composure. “you can try your luck.”

before he can respond, usopp speaks up. “luffy, isn’t there something that you wanted to talk to kaya about?”

luffy gesticulates enthusiastically with his fork. “oh, yes! usopp told me that you own the whole shipyard.”

“well, actually, my parents founded the shipyard and merry’s been running the business since they… passed. but all that’s about to change. tonight, at midnight, i will become the sole owner.” she smiles somberly.

“well, that’s great,” luffy says, raising his drink at her. “because we want to buy a ship from you.”

“ah, i see. usopp mentioned that you’re sailors.”

“nope, not sailors. we’re pirates!”

you’re certain at least three people at the table choke on their food, yourself included.

“this ought to be good,” zoro mumbles behind his glass.

you’re too busy coughing into your napkin to chastise him for finding this entertaining.

“pirates?” kaya repeats, unsure of how to react.

“yup! we haven’t sailed together for very long but we’ve already defeated an evil clown, raided a marine base, and taken down a captain with an axe! for a hand!” luffy holds up a fist, presumably to impersonate axe-hand morgan.

“sounds a lot like your adventures, usopp,” kaya says, turning to the brunette.

all he can do is laugh dryly. “yeah, that’s… that’s crazy.”

“and we’re just getting started!” luffy continues, climbing up onto the table.

“someone put me out of my misery,” you mumble, looking down at your plate to ignore the secondhand embarrassment.

a tap on your shoulder answers your plea.

turning around, you find yourself face to face with kuro once again. “madam, a word please?”

“might i ask what for?” zoro cuts in before you can so much as think of a response.

kuro offers him the most forced grin you’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing. “i’m afraid that is between the lady and i.”

the swordsman turns to you, scanning your face for any ounce of discomfort. “you okay with that?”

you inhale, figuring it was finally time for you to confront the darkest part of your past. it was silly to assume you would be able to ignore him throughout your entire stay here. besides, you were sure zoro, just like the rest of your crew, would be on standby if kuro got brave enough to try anything. “sure. just… keep an eye out.”

zoro understands completely. truthfully, you didn’t even need to ask – he always looked after you. “got it.”

you push yourself out of your seat and smooth out your dress. you allow kuro to lead you to the doorway – he was smart enough to know that was the farthest you’d let him take you.

“what do you want, klahadore?” you seethe, folding your arms.

he arches a brow. “why must you call me that? it’s ridiculous.”

you tilt your head with faux innocence. “oh? is that not your name? must have misheard.”

he gives you an irritated look, dark eyes drilling into you.

“i remember that look,” you mutter, your memory serving you well. “it’s the same one you’d give me before you’d threaten to slice me to bits with your claws.”

kuro has the audacity to chuckle dryly. “but i never did, did i? although there were certainly times times where i should’ve.”

“what you should be is dead,” you hiss bitterly. “when i heard the news, i knew it was too good to be true.”

“you wound me, kitten,” he drawls, reaching up to fix his glasses.

the condescending nickname makes your skin crawl. it carried so many awful memories of your time spent with the black cat pirates. it reminded you of just how weak kuro viewed you — nothing but a helpless, pitiful kitten in his eyes. typical of the man that abused his authority and treated you with not a single ounce of respect.

he continues, putting on a sweet tone. “after all these years, stuck waiting hand and foot on that spoiled brat, there’s nothing i’d love more than to hear my favorite crew mate say my real name.”

you snap at him. “i’m no crew mate of yours.”

he sighs, dramatically. “sadly, you’re correct. after all, you did slip off the ship the moment we docked in shells town. locating you on an island crawling with marines proved to be nearly impossible. we had no choice but to leave without you.”

“that’s exactly why i chose to escape there.”

“and to this day i can’t for the life of me figure out why you would ever do that. why would you want to leave us? leave me?”

you actually laugh right in his face. “is it really that hard to figure out? you were evil. you threatened and harassed me on a daily basis.”

“so your solution was to join that ragtag crew?” he glances at the table. “it’s pathetic, even for you.”

you lean into his face, lowering your voice down. “i’m happier than i ever was on your shitty crew. every day i wake up grateful that i managed to escape you.”

you see that vein on his forehead bulge before he’s gripping you by the chin. “listen here, you little bitch–”

the shiny silver of a sword slides between you and kuro, coming to rest against his neck. his adam’s apple bobs as he gulps anxiously, releasing you. thanks to zoro’s sword, it seemed as if he finally remembered where he was. you were no longer on his ship, he was no longer allowed to treat you like the dirt he walked on. not without someone noticing, that is.

“why don’t you step away?” zoro offers simply.

that much was a kindness. usually those who found themselves on the end of zoro’s blade(s) weren’t lucky enough to receive a warning. however, the swordsman didn’t wish to cause a scene. at least not when you were right there and everyone was watching with shock from the dinner table.

kuro obliges, stumbling back. he meets kaya’s horrified eyes, feeling ashamed that he allowed his act to slip. surely this would cause some setbacks in his plan. with no excuse for his uncharacteristic behavior, the raven haired man scurries away and up the stairs.

zoro turns and locks eyes with luffy, giving him one singular nod. luffy returns it, jumping out of his seat and going after the butler. quiet murmuring breaks out at the dinner table, everyone surely confused.

sheathing his sword, zoro directs his attention to you once more. “are you alright?” a calloused hand comes up to grip your chin, much like kuro had. however, this time, the touch is gentle. loving, almost. you welcome it.

“yeah, i’m… fine.” your heart is beating out of your chest and it has everything to do with your close proximity to zoro.

he tilts your face around, inspecting every inch of it. once he finishes, he pulls back. his demeanor goes serious once more. “we need to have a talk.”

you nod. “i know. i’ve been keeping some things from you guys and–”

“just tell me what’s been going on,” he demands. “and don’t overcomplicate it. you can be straightforward with me.”

his sincerity makes you start over, this time far more candidly. “klahadore used to be a pirate. i was part of his crew. he was my… captain.”

the shame in your voice pulls at zoro’s heartstrings. didn’t you know there was no reason to feel guilty with him? “is that it?”

you open your mouth to speak but come up empty. all you can do is furrow your eyebrows at his unexpectedly dismissive reaction.

“i knew it,” zoro continues, annoyed. “i knew i’d seen him on a wanted poster before. just didn’t have any proof.”

“wait, so you don’t– you really don’t care?” you ask, still avoiding eye contact. “me being a former black cat pirate doesn’t bother you?”

he shrugs. “you said it yourself. ‘former.’ all that matters is that you got the hell out of there. and away from that creep. would he always put his hands on you like that?”

you blink a couple times, sighing. “his temper was really bad so–”

that seemed to be enough for zoro. “i’ll kill the bastard,” he hisses. “wanted to slice him to bits the moment i saw him grab you.”

though it’s a violent threat, you can’t help but smile. the idea of zoro being so protective that he’d kill a man just for touching you made you blush. pirate love language, you suppose.

“well, i wouldn’t have stopped you,” you tell him, more than ready to see your former captain go.

zoro clicks his tongue. “nah. could’ve stained your new dress with his blood. i never would have been able to forgive myself.”

“so you do have a soft spot,” you tease.

“only for pretty things.”

“do you mean me or the dress?”

now it’s zoro’s turn to become bashful. though, his lack of response is an answer in itself. you can’t help but giggle.

a loud bang from upstairs interrupts your moment with the green-haired man. you assume luffy had gotten his hands on kuro… or vice versa. zoro must be thinking the same thing judging by the way he instinctively rests a hand on the handle of his blade.

“you should go up there,” you tell him. “i’ll stay with kaya.”

he gives you a nod, though he doesn’t make any effort to leave. he stands there like he wants to say something… or do something. before you can think about it too much, you pull him in by the collar and crash your lips onto his. they’re slightly chapped and taste like the wine that’d come from the cellar – it’s pleasant. his large palms come to rest on your lower back; his hold feels tight and secure.

when you finally allow yourself to pull away, you’re biting back a smile. “kick his ass for me.”

“will i get more of that if i do?” asks zoro, wetting his lips. they now taste like the cherry lip gloss you’d borrowed from kaya. he takes a step forward, attempting to close the gap between you two once more.

you shrug, pushing him away by the chest. “go help luffy and we’ll see.”

you both know that means yes.

#zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #opla zoro x reader #opla x reader #one piece x reader #zoro fluff

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evnseokz · 3 months ago

Text

{ ☆ size training with heeseung }

pairing: soft dom! hee x f. reader

contents: big dick hee! implied first time (with eachother), fingering, overstimulation, squirting, riding, pet names: angel, baby, praise kink if you squint

authors note: heeseung brain rot 😵‍💫 enjoy!! w.c 1k

MINORS DNI

you were lying on your back, heeseung leaning over top of you. two of his long fingers scissoring your cunt open. “do you think you can take a third baby?” he asks, and you nod slowly. your body shakes in anticipation for the stretch, your lip tucked between your teeth. heeseung slowly adds a third finger into your dripping cunt, and you cry out at the feeling. “f-fuck i feel s-so full.” you breathe out. “yeah baby? just wait till you have my cock inside you,” heeseung replies, voice deep and hungry. he continues to fuck you with his fingers until your body starts to twitch and your stomach begins to tighten. high pitched moans escape your lips as heeseung curls his fingers into you, this action sending you over the edge. your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm rips through you, your whole body shaking. heeseung removes his fingers from you before sitting up and licking them clean. he reaches down to tuck some stray hairs behind your ears. “you did so good for me, angel; you think you’re ready for my cock?” he asks.

you nod eagerly, and heeseung goes to push you back down, but you stop him. “l-let me try, please.” a blush coats your cheeks as you look up at your boyfriend. heeseung doesn’t argue with you, instead ridding himself of his garments and swapping places with you so you’re able to straddle his lap. your heat resting against his cock, you shudder slightly at the feeling, still sensitive from your orgasm. “just go slow, baby, you got this,” heeseung coos at you. and you smile softly at him before reaching for his cock. you pump him a few times, heeseung wincing at the feeling. you raise your hips up, slightly aligning his cock with your entrance. you knew this wouldn’t be easy seeing as your boyfriend's cock was literally huge; he had length and girth. you knew this would be a struggle, but you craved it so bad.

you slowly push the head of his cock into your soaked cunt, the stretch already feeling quite uncomfortable. “a-ahh” you moan, and reach out to grab heeseungs shoulders. his hands find your hips easily, helping steady you. your head hangs as you try to sink down a little more on him. you’re almost halfway on his cock, and it’s taking everything in heeseung to not thrust up into you right now, your tight cunt squeezing his cock so nicely. “s’too much, hee, y-you’re too big,” you whine, still trying to take more of him. “c’mon baby, you can take it; i know you can.” he says, lightly pushing your hips down, helping you sink further down on his cock. whines are falling past your lips, and heeseung swears he could cum just hearing your sounds. you finally manage to slowly sink all the way down on his cock, a loud moan ripping from your throat as you feel his tip prodding at your cervix. “good girl,” heeseung praises you. “take your time, angel,” he says after, noticing the way you try to move but physically can’t. you lean closer into heeseung, arms wrapping around his neck while his wrap around your waist, holding you close.

“do you want me to move you, baby?” he asks, and you nod, “yes, please.” heeseungs hands fall back to your hips, and he starts to slowly guide you on his cock. your legs shake as his cock stretches you so good, hitting every spot that makes your brain fuzzy. your head is spinning at the pleasure being given to you, and you hear light groans falling from heeseungs mouth too. “fuck you’re taking me so well, angel; your pussy was made for me,” he says huskily. you moan at the praise, jolting slightly when heeseung speeds up his thrusts. the slapping of skin is all that can be heard in the room as heeseung fucks you senseless. you feel that familiar knot in your stomach begin to tighten. “i’m close, hee,” you sigh, and heeseung immediately brings one of his hands down to give your clit attention. the combination being all too much, it immediately sends you over the edge, your body jolting and trembling, but heeseung doesn’t let up as he chases his own high. his thrusts don’t slow; he continues to fuck into your cunt. you cry out, “s’too much, hee! s’too much.” you rake your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “hang on for me, baby,” he says, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. you can already feel a third orgasm approaching from the overstimulation; this one is already feeling stronger than the others.

heeseungs thrusts begin to turn sloppy as his high crashes over him, hips bucking into your cunt repeatedly. the feeling of needing to pee washes over you as you come undone, and the mere intensity of your orgasm pushes heeseungs dick out of you as your juices spray all over him and the sheets. your moans sound literally pornographic as you come undone, falling into your boyfriend's chest immediately after. heeseung holds you close, rubbing soothing circles on your back as you try to calm down. “fuck baby, that was amazing,” heeseung chuckles slightly. you lift your head up from his chest. “d-did i just squirt?” you ask, still trying to wrap your brain around the intensity of your orgasm. and heeseung chuckles at you,

“yeah, baby, you did, and it was fucking perfect.”

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lovlidollie · 4 months ago

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rafe cumming inside of reader then holding her open and making her push it all out 😵‍💫😵‍💫

this is so him i can’t breath

he always needs to cum in you, just doesn’t feel accomplished if he doesn’t. it’s his way of staking his claim on you, on making you his. i said this before but he doesn’t care about whether or not you’ve had enough or that you’re crying n whining abt being ‘too full.’ rafe will keep going until he’s satisfied, until he physically can’t give you anymore cum. he likes to fill you up n then shove a plug up your needy hole while he marks up your chest, leaving bruises n bites that are hard to cover up. sometimes he’ll forget about the plug n instead make you cockwarm him, telling you to clench so that his cum doesn’t come leaking out. fills you up round after round, so much of it that you can see a little bulge of it though your stomach (which obviously makes rafe more feral). he’s so mean, he presses down on it n laughs when a thick drop of his cum drips out of your slick cunt. tells you to “suck it up baby c’mon tha’s it,” (both figuratively and literally) and squeezes your wet cheeks together when he says “need’ya to keep all of dad’s cum in there a’ight? can y’do that f’dad? hm?”

rafe doesn’t give you a single second of reprieve, load after load until you can’t even cry out anymore. your pussy’s all puffy n swollen, clit engorged with your wetness spread all the way across your inner thighs. he gets down to eye level with it n the way he licks his lips sends a shiver down your spine. “jus— just a lil’ longer, ‘kay? this pretty cunt deserves to be full all the time doesn’t she — yeah i know ‘m right.” as soon as he’s had his fun (in reality he’s just started to feel bad about how pathetically hard you’re trying to keep everything in) he kisses your knee n says “push it out sweetheart — yeah all of it out f’daddy.” it’s just glob after glob of sticky white cum drooling out of your used pussy. the relief you feel is instantaneous and it has you slumping against the comforter, damp with sweat n tears. and rafe? he can’t keep his eyes off your centre. he’s obsessed with the way your hole contracts, with the way his cum is forcefully ejected into the building pool under you. it makes him hard when he thinks about how much was in there in the first place and it makes him want to test your limits n figure out just how much more he can fit. his favourite part is making you push it all out for him, because then, he gets to do it all over again.

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pure-smut · 5 months ago

Text

you look so beautiful like this.

nsfw headcanons for bokuto koutarou

featuring: Bokuto Koutarou x f!reader

contains: praise kink, creampies, soft s*x, established relationship, a bit of dom!Bokuto, implied multiple rounds

word count: 1.2k

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

masterlist

praise kink

Bokuto’s love language is 100% words of affirmation.

When you’re wanting to show him affection, you know the best thing you can do is cuddle up to his arm and tell him how good he looks today. You can run your fingers through his surprisingly soft hair and gush about the date he took you on. You can cup his face and say, “You’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had, Kou” and he’ll melt right on the spot.

You soon find out Bokuto’s weakness for praise goes further than you think.

The first time you sleep together, Bokuto’s being careful with you. He knows he’s big and he would hate himself if he ever hurt you, so he made sure you were well-prepped. Still, when he’s holding himself above you and starts to ease his girth inside your sopping hole, you can feel the stretch of him.

You inhale sharply and Bokuto stills, concern on his face.

“Does it hurt, babe? Are you okay?”

“M’okay, Kou. It’s just…”

“What? What is it?”

“You’re s-so… big.”

Bokuto’s pupils blow out, his cock swelling. He slides in a few more inches, feeling you squeeze him.

“Yeah?” He can’t stop himself from grinning. “You feeling full, babe?”

You nod, biting your bottom lip as he starts to stroke himself deeper. He feels so fucking good, his cock rubbing against just the right spot.

“Tell me,” he instructs softly. “Use your words, baby.”

“Feels s’good…” you whimper. “So big...”

Bokuto groans, picking up speed. He reaches under you to grab your ass, lifting your hips so he can go deeper. You grip his biceps, anchoring yourself.

“I love your cock, Kou,” you gasp between thrusts.

“Fuck… fuck…” Bokuto fucks you harder, the sound of slapping flesh filling the room, the bed rattling off the wall. “Tell me again.”

“I l-love – ah! – your cock…” Your voice is barely above a whisper, your brain foggy with lust as euphoria takes over. “Gonna m-make me-!”

Bokuto feels you cream on his cock as he fucks you relentlessly, his cock harder than it’s ever been. Your words are like music to his ears. To him, the only thing sexier than you under him is when you’re telling him how good he’s making you feel.

It’s only after he’s fucked you through another two orgasms that you realise you might have underestimated who you’re with.

creampies

Bokuto loves to fuck you raw – the intimacy of having skin of skin contact with no physical barriers between you is pure euphoria to him. But it’s what comes after that he especially loves.

Bokuto has you bent over the arm of the sofa after a movie night quickly descended into something more carnal. You’re pinned in place, Bokuto’s large hard wrapped around the back of your neck. His cock reaches so deep in this position, he can feel you clench around him with every stroke, your needy pussy sucking him back in.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he grunts. “I’m not gonna last, baby.”

“Cum for me, Kou,” you encourage, squeezing him tighter. “Cum inside me.”

Bokuto doesn’t need you to say anything else. He unleashes a flurry of curses, his grip on your neck tightening as you feel him flood your pussy. Bokuto stills, grunting as he feels the last of his orgasm before withdrawing.

You make to stand up but Bokuto’s hand hasn’t left the back of your neck, keeping you in place.

“Stay there a sec, babe.”

There’s a second delay and then you feel his fingers on your lips, pulling them apart. His creamy load spills from your well-used cunt, dribbing down your thigh.

“Kou-!”

Bokuto scoops up some of the fluid, smearing it along your folds. He’s hypnotised by the sight of it, your little hole so full of his cum. You wiggle under his touch, feeling a little vulnerable under his inspection.

“What are you doing?”

“Sorry, babe, I just… fuck…” Bokuto breathes, feeling his cock harden again. “You look so beautiful like this.”

Your cheeks warm but it only lasts a second before you feel his fat mushroom tip nudging against your entrance once more. You whine as Bokuto sinks his now fully hard cock inside you again, the sloppiness of your cum-filled pussy making the lewdest noises.

“One more, babe,” Bokuto says, fucking his load back into you. “Just one more.”

making love

Bokuto is a sweet soul with a tender heart that’s easily bruised. You know when he’s in one of his emo modes because he makes it very obvious, moping around the house and sighing a lot. He’s touch-oriented at the best of times but when he’s in emo mode, he becomes the huggiest person ever.

You’re lying on the couch when Bokuto comes up to you for a cuddle, lying between your legs to hold one of your thighs, his head on your stomach. His large frame means you’re splayed a bit awkwardly around him but you don’t mind, stroking his hair and telling him how wonderful he is.

“You don’t think that…” he sighs into your thigh.

“Of course I do, Kou,” you assure him, scratching his scalp in the way you know he likes. He leans into your touch. “You’re sweet and kind and funny. And…”

Bokuto turns his head to look up at you, eyes wide and expectant.

“You’re so fucking hot.” You grin down at him.

A slow smile crawls across Bokuto’s face.

“Stop…” he says. “Really?”

You roll your eyes playfully.

“Duh. Have you seen your biceps?”

Bokuto grins wide, biting his bottom lip. He turns over to face you, crawling up your body until he’s holding himself over you. When he dips his head to kiss you, it’s not his usual high-energy make out but something slower and softer. You can tell he needs a lot of love right now.

You cup the back of his neck, smoothing your hand up his strong chest. Bokuto reaches down under your dress, gently pulling your panties down as you tug down his shorts. When he slides himself inside you, it’s slow and sensual.

“I love you so much, Kou,” you whisper to him as he presses your foreheads together. “I’ve never loved anyone like you.”

“I love you too,” Bokuto says and his voice breaks slightly. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You wrap your legs around him, holding him close to you. Bokuto usually fucks you hard and fast and full of energy but not when he’s feeling like this. When he’s sad and down on himself, he just needs to feel you while you hold him. Feel you love him physically.

Bokuto’s cock drags slowly against the nerves inside you, sending sparks through your body. You bury your face in his neck and sigh.

“You make me feel so good…” you tell him and he leans down to be closer to you.

His large forearm wraps around you as he hunches over you, keeping up his soft, languid strokes. Your bodies are pressed together, not an inch between you, just the way Bokuto likes. To hear your content sighs and soft moans, your gentle voice as you reassure him while your heavenly pussy makes him feel so good.

When Bokuto spills his cum inside you, his mouth never leaving yours, his heart is so full it could burst.

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satoruhour · 1 year ago

Text

AY ! SPANK IT.

a/n: had to physically hold myself back from not doing any lore. i failed (for gojo’s at least). enjoy / tagging my babies @redskyvenus @suguella @satorena @screampied @jabamin @marimogf @osaemu @ryovie

wc: 3.5k

warnings: sp*nking for all (i cheated on gojo’s part but we don’t talk bout that), fem!reader, gojo is older than in the series (late 30s), semi-public oral (m! receiving), deep throating, he’s a little rough, a stranger listens in (gojo), implied multiple rounds, unprotected p -> v sex, (geto), implied multiple rounds, fingering, clit stimulation, pussy slaps, unprotected p -> v sex (nanami), you ask soft dom!toji to be rougher, implied multiple rounds, face slapping, unprotected p -> v sex (toji), n*sfw under the cut

✶ GOJO

your mind’s racing. that’s the only thing you can focus on, and maybe also the fact that gojo looks absolutely dashing in the suit he bought, taking you out for a whole day of shopping just because he can, so you got yourself a dress that goes all the way to the floor while he had another suit to add to the collection. it was so terrible, too, because you’re at utahime’s wedding dinner and all you can think about is getting to your knees to suck him off.

“need somethin’?” gojo whispers with hand clasped over yours, voice softer than usual. he’s grown much into his age, now well into his late 30s and you have to physically hold yourself back every waking hour. his way of living is a tad bit softer and tender when it comes to you.

you swallow, “i might ruin the mood.”

gojo laughs and it’s got your cunt throbbing, “nothing you say could ruin the mood, baby.”

sparing a glance towards utahime and her wife, you feel a little bad that you’re going to do what you’re going to do, but it’s only the fourth course and the band on stage is kinda shit. so you’re standing and pulling on his wrist, excusing yourself from the table of sorcerers that already have an inkling of your imminent activities; you even think you can hear nanami sigh.

“where’re we goin—” gojo’s surprised by your eagerness and the quickness in which you say shut it, navigating the second floor of the hotel and even making the effort to head to the bathroom further from the function room. he grins in recognition.

wordlessly, you’re shoving him into the men’s bathroom because you’re past your senses and you don’t care any more, walking your husband back into a stall. there’s a shocked yelp from the occupied stall beside you but you hardly give a shit, locking the door and crashing your lips against satoru’s.

“so eager,” he whispers against your lips, gasping into your mouth when you squeeze his bulge. you waste no time palming it, kissing down his jaw just for a little tease and making your bluish-black mark on his neck before you’re dropping to your knees and fumbling with his belt. you can’t look up at your husband’s piercing eyes because you know you’d cower in shame at your sex-crazed surge, but you do anyway and you only melt further into the floor.

you’re left wondering why his enemies always don’t freeze in awe when he removes his blindfold, because your cheek feels at home on his pelvis as you continue to massage his erection, a small smile spreading when his hand cradles your cheek.

“go ahead, princess,” he takes over, releasing his cock from the confines of his underwear and you’re scooching closer to him, taking his shaft in your fingers as they slowly stroke him to full hardness. gojo’s good at keeping his moans in, fixated on the baby blue nails that he paid for moving up and down, and he swears he catches a hand that goes in between your legs to rub at your clit.

that is until you’re waste no time messing up your make-up, mouth descending on his cock and gojo lets out a drawn out moan at the warmth of your mouth. it contrasts with the intense coldness of the hotel and resembles your tight cunt so well that he almost cums and you smile at the twitch you feel in your mouth.

“yeesss . . take it down your throat like a slut,” he looks at you, possibly hypnotised by how you start bobbing your head, swirling your tongue on the underside of his cock without rest. you slobber over him, gargling noises and your hand pumps the area you can’t reach and the other only draws messy circles on your clit, filling the bathroom with the obscene noises of your mouth paired with gojo’s whines and whimpers. silently, he beckons you closer and you catch his drift, both hands holding onto his thighs.

taking in a breath, you’re going all the way slowly, gently, and gojo lets you, hands cradling your head and helping you — so much so that he’s hunching over in pure pleasure, bent over and chin touching his chest from how he wanted to keep his eyes on you. your eyes never stop looking up at him, variations of mmhm’s leaving your throat and sending vibrations all throughout his length that he groans at.

“f-fuck— mouth so damn warm,” satoru chokes out, feeling a sense of pride when the corners of your eyes fill up with tears and you gag a little, but you press on because he’s trained you well. he can only focus on the gagging sounds and your nose buried in his pubes, mouth muttering out profanities. “just a little bit— s-shit . . just a lil more, baby.”

it’s not everyday the strongest sorcerer begs, drunk on feeling his tip hit the back of your throat and the dig of your nails in his thighs. your muffled moans only spur him on, another surge of amusement blooming in his chest when he sees the other person hurriedly leaving the stall next to you. gojo’s fingers bury themselves in your hair and pulls, grinning down at your melting mascara and smudged lipstick. you look like the embodiment of filthiness, tongue lolled out and eyes almost rolling back as you try to catch your breath.

“sa— satoru . .” you whine, mouth chasing his cock and manage to catch his tip, suckling and slurping up his pre-cum, “give it t’me.” that gets him grunting and swatting your hands away as he forcibly takes your chin and his cock, slapping it all over your face and you moan at the sheer girth and size of him. you let it rest against your face and your husband wishes he had his camera out to capture this. maybe next time.

“tongue.” and you’re sticking it out, and he slaps his tip along your tongue, too, clear sounds resonating throughout the restroom. outside, he hears the sink stop and with a thumb, drags your jaw to open more.

“let’s give ’im a show, shall we?”

✶ GETO

you see, you’ve always known your man to be an ass man — from noticing the way his eyes follow your figure in a bodycon dress to the special attention he gives it during cuddling, but you’re never truly prepared (you didn’t think he was more obsessed over your ass than you are) for how much he loves it when he’s always got your face buried into the pillows and your lower half propped up.

you’re on god knows what round, drool seeping into the duvet and your juices soaking the sheets and moans leaving your lips. geto’s got you in full nelson, mating press, you can’t even remember any more when the only thing you can think of is his cock easing into you.

“gone so many rounds and still need some dick in her,” he laughs and you burn from embarrassment, and yet you love it, pushing your ass back into him while his grip on your waist tightens, “don’t blame ’er — i love this fuckin’ pussy too.”

you preen at the praise, turning your head to find geto struggling between looking at your face of pleasure and your ass; he lets his desires win, memorising the cute pants and desperate furrow of your eyebrows before he reluctantly pulls his eyes away. but how could he resist — when your butt is pushed up against his pelvis so nicely, the stretch of your dripping cunt in full view and the jiggle of your ass whenever his body meets yours.

his hands leave your waist and spread your cheeks to see how his fat cock leaves and reenters you, full of your mixed cum from the previous sessions that there’s a ring of white that forms at the base of his length with each thrust. it spills all over and down his balls, down your thighs and it’s so sloppy once he starts moving, the wetness of your pussy only encouraging him further.

“pretty little doll takes my cock so well, hm?” suguru hums, fingers squeezing and releasing the fat of your ass. it only anchors him to be rougher and more precise in his thrusts, tip just kissing your cervix that has got you crying out. your head’s foggy but your grip is strong, clutching the sheets below you until your knuckles turn white. in a moment of sensitivity, your hand flies to grab at his wrist.

“sugu—” you gasp, and you meet his eyes, dark with lust while his hair falls all around him. it’s hot, he’s hot and you watch him lick his lips and smile that dizzying smile of his as he changes the pace however he likes to. one moment he’s grinding into your cunt, and the other, he’s snapping his hips roughly.

“yes, darling?” it’s taunting, just like the way he pushes down on your back to accentuate your arch, tugging your hips onto his front.

“s’good, love it, love it—!” you mewl, eyes squeezing shut from the immense pleasure and overstimulation, “feels t’good—”

there’s no answer except a resounding smack that echoes through the room and you gasp again, a choked whine leaving your mouth. you can feel heat forming on your ass and geto’s sick chuckle only makes you open your eyes again to meet him and he’s soothing the place where he spanked.

“yeah? that feel good, huh?” he coos, picking up the pace and ramming into you with the roughness of someone who’s been denied pussy for days and he spanks you again, again and again, the pain so exhilarating. geto cannot keep his eyes off you, watching, hypnotised, the way your ass moves under his hand, “just love this ass so damn much.”

geto catches your smile just as your lips part to whimper out his name and he only props one of his legs up to get deeper in you, a long groan escaping from him when you clench around him.

another smack, another one of your moans, another plea and he laughs breathlessly, cock twitching in you.

“guess i found my girl’s guilty pleasure.”

✶ NANAMI

nanami loved your pleasure. whether it was through oral or just pure sex, the way he knows that he’s making you feel good is enough for him to cum, the satisfaction of doing his job as a partner and the knowledge that you’re the only one to fall apart by his hands. that’s why he never stops until he feels like you’ve had enough, talking you through your many orgasms until you’re spent.

he chuckles lowly into your ear from behind, legs holding down your own as your body convulses from another climax that he’s brought you to. you’re squeezing so much around his fingers that he has trouble removing them, the other hand calming down your heaving stomach.

“you’re relentless, kento . .” you mumble, head slumping onto his shoulder and back, breath hitting the hair that’s at the back. your lover takes the opportunity to mark your neck, alternating between licking and sucking into the skin there. his hands always are so much larger on your body — when they wrap around your middle at events to guide you around, around your arm where you’re cooking at home together — it always sends you into hysterics.

“but you do like it, don’t you, my love?” his tone is soft, sending the hairs along your body to stand, because no matter how soft, the rasp in which he speaks with never fails to thrill you.

“i do, kento, but ’m so sensitive; not sure if you like it,” you hum, removed from your daydream when you feel his cock slap against your thigh. knowing you’re prepped for him, he doesn’t answer but only sighs into your ear when he slips in, your cum providing enough for him to slowly inch himself in.

“of c—” it’s strained, he says it through his teeth, “’course i like it, baby. i love it, even.” nanami groans when he starts to thrust up into you, drunk on the moans and whimpers you feed him. instinctively, your legs try to close but his hands are quicker, holding you open that you need to hold onto him for some sort of grounding, because it was just too. much.

“k-kento,” your voice wavers when you feel him bottom out, watching his hands wander over your sweat-filled body. he hadn’t even fully undressed from his mission duties, still wearing his watch with his trousers pulled down halfway. your pussy was just too good. “so full—!”

“y-yeah . . it is, darling girl doin’ so good f’r me,” nanami’s sounds only send shivers down your body, hands finally coming to rest along your tits. he plays with them, fingers fondling with your nipples and squeezing mindlessly while his hips give you calculated thrusts into your soaking cunt, “doing so good and taking my cock like a good girl. yeah, aren’t ya?”

you nod into his embrace but you wished he’d give some attention to your neglected clit, something that he’s been set on abusing for the past orgasms — and now he doesn’t give it any sort of attention?

“kento— mmfuck—! w-want you to,” your sentence is cut off by your own cries of swears and your boyfriend’s name until he’s turning your head so he can kiss you. devouring your sounds, he speaks against your lips.

“what is it, sweetheart?”

distracted from the kissing, you never notice the way his hands make a beeline for your core, and the first rub of you clit has got you clamping down hard around his length and he grunts.

“was it that?” and you nod again like a dumb slut, hips bucking up into his hold and you can feel his own falter, loving how warm your gummy walls were. it was disgusting; with each move of his pelvis, your juices only spurt everywhere and anywhere, dripping down right onto the sheets.

“m-more . .” you mumble, back arching and body shivering from the intensity of everything, while nanami looks between your eyes and mouth like he’s ingraining the pretty painting of ecstasy of your face into his mind. he makes sure to keep his hazel eyes locked on you, and, rewarded well when his hand comes down upon your clit in a messy slap.

“kento!” your head lols back, muscles pulled taut while your lover only smiles, and he does it again whilst his cock is endlessly pumping into you.

the slaps continue and they’re wet, lewdly wet and it makes you even more flustered and embarrassed that you’re hiding your face into his neck. each slap is like a hit to your head, making you dizzy and giddy and you want nothing more than to cream all over his cock.

they’re harsher — a strength nanami never liked to execute on you but seeing your body convulse like this, seeing your eyes blown wide and jaw slack only makes his spanks against your pussy rougher until you’ve gone silent.

“g’nna cum like this? filthy girl . . simply from my spanks?” he laughs into your hair, knowing to angle his hips just right and that’s got you speaking his name like a mantra, “i’ll definitely need to see my darling girl so ruined again.”

✶ TOJI

“you want me to be . . what?”

contrary to popular belief, toji has always (mostly) been gentle with you in bed. having come from a rough past, he’s only ever treated you like glass, entirely different from the way he was treated as a child. he’s done that to his ex-wife, as well, and now to you, thinking that if he’d ever do anything wrong, you’d leave him.

“i want you to be rougher . . toji,” it’s not something that warrants the use of his first name when a pet name is more than enough, but you both know this stems from something he’s afraid of and you’re only showing your concern through using his given name. “i can take it.”

toji coos at your big girl words, something he adores even before you’ve gotten in a relationship with him and he brings you closer with a toned arm around your waist, “are ya sure?”

and like always he’s making sure you’re okay with everything that he’s done so far, checking up on you, taking breaks in between, so you work your magic. with one hand on his forearm and one more on his face, you’re asking for more, more, more, even as he’s buried deep in you, pussy still struggling to take him because he’s just so big.

“want more, do ya?” he grunts, both hands holding you by the ankle while he thrusts into you with the force of an animal, of many pleas of you wanting more has landed you in this position — cum spilling out of you, sheets filled with your sweat and your clit feeling sore as hell — and you love every second of it. you nod pathetically, eyes welling up with tears from just how good his dick game was and when he laughs, you swear you feel your pussy flutter.

“c’mon, s-shiiit . . watch me fuck this pussy,” he manages to get out, a mix between a groan and grunt that speech is a little distorted, but you prop yourself up anyway, yelping when his hands caress down your legs to your knees and pushes. you end up with your knees to your chest and a front seat view of his cock moving in and out of you, a clear sheen of slick along his shaft from your combined juices.

without warning, he’s spitting onto your clit, a long string of saliva that hangs from his mouth until it finally reaches your core and you moan from obscene action. your hips only wiggle closer to him, chasing that same thrill. “again.”

he lets out a laugh in disbelief, “again? dirty little slut.” and he wraps his fingers around your chin even as you continue to pant and mewl, further emphasising his overpowering strength over yours and drawing your eyes from the hypnotising sight in front of you to meet his dark green ones that are filled with desire.

your mind is overwhelmed with everything, from the fullness of his throbbing cock in you to the feeling of your knees digging into your clavicle. he doesn’t even need to open your mouth for you before he’s gathering another ball of saliva and spitting it into your mouth.

“swallow,” and you do so obediently, chest heaving in anticipation while your neediness only prompts a sly grin out of toji. all the while, his hips are still moving, sending you into oblivion with you mumbling that you want even more and toji’s set out to give you something that he remembers you mentioning on a random day to your girlfriends on call.

with the same hand around your chin, he’s giving your cheek a light slap, heat already blooming from the fat of your cheek from the roughness of his hands. and he halts — he’s afraid you’ll think he hates you but all you do is clench tighter around him while a cockdrunk smile spreads across your face.

“like it— love that, toij . .” you giggle, seemingly confused about why his thrusts stop but he wastes no time resuming his pace when he sees your eyes begging for release, groaning out at the freeness he feels upon listening to you. he loves watching your pussy take him, cum gushing everywhere, but with his new discovery, he’s too fixated one seeing that look on your face again.

so he interrupts your never-ending moans with another slap and that only garners another tightening of your cunt, biting your lip with a small grin.

“like it when i’m rough with ya, huh?” toji laughs, holding your chin and slapping, playing with your lips and slapping and each time you give him what he wants — a broken moan or a call out for him, spurring his hips on until all that’s left of the room is the smell of sex and the lewd slapping of skin. “never knew my angel girl was such a cock slut . . i like her like this too, fuck!”

“always been like this,” you giggle, pulling him in just to tease him as your lips leave hot breaths on his, “just needed the right man to get it out of me, right?”

“that’s right, baby,” toji returns your cheeky smile, before a hand lands another slap on your face and you’re sent over the edge, body trembling under him and pussy spilling all over him. you’re clenching so hard that he can’t move, but like always, your lover never forgets to talk you through it.

“thaat’s it, cream all over my cock, doll,” and he grabs your face lightly again, soothing the area on your cheeks with a small grin.

“at least i know what she likes now . . and i’ll be sure to deliver.”

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