#locke is getting on my damn nerves

[sceletaflores]

I COULD PLAY THE DOCTOR (I CAN CURE YOUR DISEASE)

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.1k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, logan's pov, written with origins!logan in mind, nat veering dangerously closer to a/b/o territory with every passing day, rut cycles, oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), multiple orgasms, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, p in v, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, size kink, belly bulging, pussy pronouns, one (1) single use of the word daddy, scent kink, pain kink, breeding kink ofc, knotting (don’t look at me…), squirting, porn w/ plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: don’t look at me…i don’t know how many times i swore up and down i’d never write something like this but i’m a confirmed liar apparently so…here. i mean i just figured i'm in a rut artistically so therefore the only answer is writing logan in a rut physically...i can do what i want and i don't need to explain myself or my horny thoughts. also, i debated posting this in the wake of everything that's gone down over the past two days that is still escalating and will continue to escalate in the coming weeks, but i think everyone could use a little escape from how scary things may seem right now. take a break from all the terrifying news sites and read about logan wanting to breed you :) kisses!

divider by angel @saradika-graphics!

it's been another six months, and logan needs your help...

The burn starts on the walk home from work, a pulse of heat deep in Logan's gut that grows with every step.

It spreads slowly, sinking into his muscles and seeping up his spine as he rounds the last corner, your place less than a block away now.

It caught him off guard this time, an itch burying itself under his skin earlier in the day only to get worse and worse as he worked.

He usually knew the signs well enough to feel them start creeping in, and he was dead sure it wasn't for another few weeks.

Apparently, he was wrong.

Logan’s jaw clenches as he picks up his pace, every nerve ending in his body straining to break into a full blown sprint at the thought of you, all alone and waiting for him.

His fingers curl into tight fists, nails pressing into his palms to ground himself, though it’s hardly enough. The faint scent of you drifts up from his shirt, not even a long day at the lumberyard enough to drown it out.

By the time he reaches your door, his heartbeat is a heavy thud in his ears, syncing with the building ache of desire wracking through his body like the earth rattling boom of a raging thunder storm.

He fumbles through getting his key into the lock, hands unsteady as he tugs the door open with a little more force than necessary and finally steps inside.

The second he closes the door behind him, the heat surges, thrumming through his veins and flooding his chest. Your scent fills the air completely, stronger now, wrapping around him so thick and sweet.

"Darlin'?" His voice comes out rougher than he intends, but he's beyond caring.

Your voice floats from the other room, casual, warm enough to send a jolt through him. Logan drops his axe from his shoulder, leaning it against the door as he starts down the familiar path to your bedroom.

You're spread out on his side of the bed—oblivious, curled up with a book, wrapped in one of the flannels he must have left the last time he stayed over.

Just the sight of you does something to him, like a match dragged against a strike pad, damned on setting everything ablaze.

You glance up, and the soft smile on your lips falters as you catch sight of him.

Logan knows what he must look like, his eyes all dark and predatory, chest heaving as he rakes his hungry gaze over you like a wolf watches a lamb grazing too close to its den.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stalks toward you with a purpose that’s as undeniable as the heat pouring off him in waves.

The book slips from your fingers, forgotten, as you lean back, the small sound of your breath hitching under the weight of his gaze is music to his ears.

Logan pauses at the edge of the bed, towering over you, letting himself drink in the way you look. So soft and serene, like some kind of invitation that begs him closer. His flannel draped loosely over your shoulders–shrouding you in his scent. 

The urge to pounce on you fights against his normal instinct to savor every second, to draw it out until the heat pooling in his gut becomes downright unbearable.

“Been thinkin’ about you all damn day,” he mutters, voice thick and dark as molasses, rough from restraint he’s quickly losing. His knuckles brush against your thigh, then tighten, holding you in place as he leans down, his breath hot against your neck. “Thinkin’ about what I was gonna when I finally got my hands on you.”

Your skin blooms with warmth beneath his touch, and he grins against your neck, the edge of his teeth grazing you just enough to make you squirm. He growls low in his throat, that itch he’s been fighting nearly all day clawing its way up to the surface with a vengeance.

The primal urge inside of him screaming to claim claim claim take take take mate mate mate breed breed breed.

You tilt your head to the side with a soft sigh, freeing up more space for him to nose along your skin. “Is it time?”

Logan's breath catches as your question hangs in the air, thick with anticipation. The soft simplicity of it ignites the wildfire burning in his gut, every ounce of restraint slipping away like sand through his fingers.

“Yeah, baby,” he growls, slipping his fingers under the worn cotton of your shorts, feeling the bare skin beneath. “It’s time.”

You shift, hands going to the buttons of his flannel like you’re going to take it off. Logan stops you, taking your wrists in his free hand.

“Don’t,” he breathes, shaking his head hard enough that his hair flows with it. “Leave it on.”

The thought of you covered in his scent, of his scent mixing with yours to claim you on a level only he can discern sends his mind buzzing.

You look up at him with those wide, trusting eyes, and something in him cracks wide open. The tenderness of your gaze pulls at him, like a tether pulling him back from the edge, but that heat still smolders in his blood, fierce and unyielding.

Logan runs his thumb along the racing pulse of your wrist before he drops them. His hands venture lower, fingers pressing against the inside of your thigh, tracing a deliberate path that makes your body tremble under his touch.

You let out a shuddering breath, the scent of your arousal swirling through the air is enough to make him crave more.

In one rough tug, Logan yanks you towards the edge of the bed as he falls to his knees. Your hips held tight in his hands as he lurches forward, burying his nose in the soft junction where your leg and inner thigh meet.

He inhales deep, greedy lungfuls of your scent. A guttural growl rumbles through his chest, his eyes screwing shut at the sheer amount of too much that courses through him. He feels dizzy with it, high on the pheromones pumping from you in waves.

You’re soaked already, the wet fabric of your shorts melded to the shape of your cunt. He can’t help but run his nose along the slick seam of you, reveling in the way your legs twitch on either side of his head, in the short gasp you let out.

“Logan.” Your voice is nothing but a mewl, pleading and desperate.

“Missed you,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost unrecognizable. The edge of need in him makes his hands shake, sliding up your thighs, urging them even further apart as he settles between them.

Logan’s fingers dig into your skin, he lets his thumbs brush up, hooking them into the waistband of your shorts to tug them down your legs in one sharp yank. He groans at the sight of you completely bare, no underwear.

“Fuck, look at you,” he grates, his thumb coming down to slip through your dripping cunt. Your hole flutters desperately around him, needy little clenches like it’s trying to suck him in. “She’s all ready for me, huh? Been waiting for me to come home and give her some attention?”

“Please,” you whimper, your voice thick with longing, the sound going straight to his head, clouding his thoughts. 

Logan’s pulse races as he watches your body arch instinctively toward his touch, the desperate need in your eyes igniting the raw urges coursing through him.

He can’t deny you; he never could. You’re a feast laid out before him, and he’s starving.

Logan leans closer, letting his tongue flick out to taste you like he’s wanted to since he left for work this morning. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, closing his eyes and losing himself in the moment. He licks a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, savoring the way your body responds, the way your legs tremble and your hips twitch against his mouth, seeking more. “Tastes like fuckin’ heaven, sweetheart.”

The taste of you is intoxicating—sweet and tangy, flooding his senses with every drag and swirl of his tongue.

Logan can’t help but moan against you, the sound vibrating through your body as he dives deeper, his nose nudging against your slick entrance as he shakes his head back and forth like an animal—rubbing the plush skin of your inner thighs red and raw with each rough drag of his coarse beard.

Every flick of his tongue sends a shockwave through you, and he revels in the sounds you make—each whimper, each moan, a siren’s call urging him deeper. He laves his tongue around your clit, sucking it gently, pulling at it with his lips as you writhe beneath him, begging for more. 

He keeps your thighs spread wide, two strong hands pinning them to the mattress so he can devour you just the way you deserve, the sharp dig of your heels into his shoulders only spurs him on.

Your hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging him closer, and he groans into you, letting his tongue delve deeper, seeking out every bit of sweetness he can coax from you. 

It’s pure sin, each sound you make, each shiver that runs through you as he takes his time, drinking you down like a man starved. 

The ache in him intensifies, his own need growing, pulsing. He’s hard, has been hard since he walked through the front door.

His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans, need pulsing in time with each pump of his blood through his shaft, circling around the base, threatening to expand even without the tight grip of your pussy surrounding him. His hips jerk up on their own volition, desperate for any friction.

“Just like that, Logan,” you gasp, voice breathy and trembling with pleasure. 

The way you say his name—raw, desperate—makes his blood run hotter. He grips your thighs tighter, anchoring you to the bed as he drinks you in, wanting to lose himself in you completely.

Logan pulls away just long enough to catch his breath, looking up at you with lust-drunk eyes, drinking in the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your heavy-lidded gaze, the way your chest rises and falls with each shuddering breath.

The pulse of his cock intensifies, urging him to speed things along. The base desire of his own instincts is getting harder and harder to ignore under your adoring stare.

He feeds his fingers into your clenching hole with no warning, a satisfied smirk tugging his lips up at your sharp gasp. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, the entire lower half of his face still shining with your essence.

Your cunt swallows him, two thick fingers sinking into the velvety heat like it’s nothing.

Logan groans as he feels you clench around him, your walls fluttering and drawing him in deeper. “That’s it, baby,” he mutters, his voice hoarse with need. “So fuckin’ ready for me, so ready for daddy’s fingers in your pussy.”

Your mouth drops open in another devastatingly desperate noise, your hands twist his hair roughly, soft breasts rising and falling each time you gasp for air. The dim light of the sunset filters in through the blinds, highlighting the curves of your body, slick and shining with a thin sheen of sweat.

Every clench of your walls around his fingers shoots a thrill straight to his cock, making him ache with the urge to bury himself inside you. The overwhelming need to take you completely, to mark you and fill you, pulses through his veins until he feels like he might explode.

But he’s not done tasting you yet. Not until you’re practically dripping onto the sheets.

He lowers his mouth back to your core, sucking your clit into his mouth as his fingers pump faster. The sudden intensity makes your thighs shake around his head, and he grins against you. He wants to see you fall apart—wants to feel it.

“Logan—please, I…” You can barely get the words out, voice breaking as your whole body strains against him, desperate and needy.

The wet slap of his palm against your spit soaked cunt is loud in the quiet of your bedroom, blending with the loud keens that fall from your parted lips. He crooks his fingers, rubbing at that soft, spongy spot inside of you.

“Come on,” he mutters, slick lips brushing against your clit as he speaks. “Give it to me, baby. Show me you're ready for my cock."

He drags the sharp edge of his canine against your pulsing clit with barely any pressure, and you're coming.

Your whole body tenses, back bowing off the mattress as you let out a broken cry of his name. The bite of your nails digging into his scalp feels harsh enough to draw blood, a feeble attempt at grounding yourself against the onslaught of pleasure. 

Your trembling thighs tighten around his shoulders, gripping him like a vice as your shaking cunt gushes around his fingers. Logan groans at the feeling, eyes slipping shut as you drench his wrist and chin in your juices.

Even then, he doesn’t let up, fingers pumping relentlessly as he draws out every pulse, every aftershock of your climax, every tiny spray of your release splashing against his wrist. 

He’s lost in the feel of you—slick and trembling under his hands, the scent of your release filling his lungs, thick and intoxicating.

You slump back against the bed, body limp and spent. His own need is a driving, aching force now, clawing at his insides, demanding more.

He slips his fingers free from your dripping heat, dragging them through the wetness coating his chin as he licks them clean with a growl, savoring every taste.

“Good girl,” he purrs, voice thick with pride and satisfaction as he pulls back, leaving your thighs twitching in the wake of his touch. But he still isn’t finished. Not even close.

You barely have time to catch your breath before Logan crawls up the bed, his eyes locked on you, pupils blown with need. He looms over you, hands planting on either side of your head. His cock grinds against you through the rough denim, and you can feel just how thick and hard he is, throbbing through the fabric, demanding to be freed.

With a low groan, he shifts his hips, dragging his bulge along your soaked cunt, sending another jolt of pleasure racing through you. His hands are all over you, gripping your waist, hot and possessive.

“Feel that?” he asks, pressing his lips the wild flutter of your pulse, the need to sink his teeth in the soft skin of your neck raises the hair on the back of his neck. “That’s what you do to me baby. Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock, just aching to be inside you.”

Your arms circle his shoulders, clawing at the fabric off his shirt. “Need you inside me, Logan. Please, want it so bad.”

The pure need lacing your words, your scent calling out to him, the way he can feel the front of his jeans getting soaked through with the slick pouring from your cunt all pull him deeper into the recesses of his hind-brain. 

The mounting desperation to stuff you full of his cock finally reaches a fever pitch.

With a deep growl, Logan rears back as far as he can bear, just enough to tear his shirt over his head before he fumbles with the heavy buckle of his belt to free his aching cock.

He shoves his jeans down, boxers quickly following until there’s nothing separating him from the cool air of your bedroom. His cock springs free, hot and flushed an angry red color, drooling from the tip enough that it drips down to stain the pretty floral sheets of your bed.

Your eyes zero in on him, mouth dropping open at the sight. His cock so heavy it doesn’t curve upward to slap against his stomach, instead it hangs down to sway between his thighs as he moves closer. 

Your legs spread as he nears, slick covered thighs parting to make room for him to slot between them. So obedient, so good, so well trained.

Logan takes himself in his hand, nearly wincing at the blazing temperature of his skin. He secures his hand around the base, squeezing where his knot threatens to pop before he’s even got in you.

He slips the angry head through the folds of your cunt, slapping it against your clit with a wet ‘thwack’ sound. He can feel the way it twitches and shakes, just as desperate as him.

“Look at that,” he mutters darkly, eyes glued to where he’s laid his cock flat against your stomach, leaking pre-come all over your soft skin. “How’s it gonna fit, baby?” He shifts his hips, sawing his length back and forth to see just how deep in you he’ll be.

Your glassy eyes drop, a broken moan passing through your slack lips when you take in the sight. Your hips rise off the bed, grinding your cunt along the seam of his heavy balls, along the prominent vein trailing up the underside.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Logan grits out, eyes hooded and dark as he watches you grind against him. “You’re gonna take it all. Gonna make you feel every last fuckin’ bit of me.”

He groans, gritting his teeth as he presses in further, each inch a battle against the tight, molten heat that grips him like a vice. Your body shudders as he fills you, your slick warmth pulling him deeper and deeper, and he sinks down until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with yours. 

The pressure is mind-numbing, your walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses that make his vision blur. He stills for just a second, savoring the way your body stretches around him, hugging him in a way that feels like it was made for him alone.

Logan watches your face as you adjust to the stretch, your brows pinched together, each breath coming fast and shallow, your eyes glazed with pleasure.

Then, your hands come to his shoulders, nails digging little crescent moons into his skin as you nod your head, ready.

It’s all the confirmation he needs. His hips pull back before he slams in again, the force of it jolting your whole body. He presses his forehead to your shoulder, teeth bared as he muffles a snarl against your skin.

Logan thrusts again, and again, and again, hips setting a merciless pace as he watches the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, each little shudder.

His mouth waters with the need to taste, to sink his teeth into your supple skin hard enough to pierce clean through, hard enough to scar.

Sweat drips down the length of his spine, across his brow. It mats down the hair scattered over his chest, his dog tags slick with it when they bounce off his skin with each thrust. The grip of his hands tightens on your hips, it’s taking everything in him to hold back and yet he knows you’ll still bruise tomorrow. 

Pretty hues of dark purples and yellows in the shape of his fingers, ones he’ll catch you admiring in the bathroom mirror, pressing your own fingertips into them to feel the dull ache—to remember this moment.

“Made for this, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice dark and possessive. “Made to take me, to be mine.”

The words barely leave his mouth before he’s bending down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries as he drives into you, pushing you both closer to that sweet edge.

“Fuck, Logan,” you gasp, breaking the kiss as your body trembles under him. “Can–ah!–can feel you in my stomach…”

Your hand drops from his shoulder, slipping between your bodies to rest over the sweaty expanse of your belly. Logan’s eyes follow your path, a feral growl bursting from his chest before he can stop it.

He’s transfixed by it, sure that if he pressed his hand to the soft skin of your lower stomach right over your own, that he’d feel it. Feel the way his cock punches up against your insides, so deep it's like he’s rearranging your guts to make room.

“Fuck.” His voice is nothing but a gravelly rumble, hoarse and dark as midnight. His hips speed up impossibly faster, chasing the feeling of your clenching walls choking the length of his cock so tight he thinks it might snap off at the base.

The flimsy headboard of your bed slams against the wall, creaky mattress springs screaming under his ministrations.

You feel like salvation, like the first rays of light after too many years spent in the dark.

He feels it with each kiss of his cock against your cervix, in the way your lips fit in the junction of his neck, in the red welts your nails leave on the skin of his back. He feels alive, truly alive, for the first time in decades.

“Say my name,” he grates, his hand cupping the back of your neck, coaxing you to look up at him, lips close enough to taste the heat radiating from his skin. “Tell me who you belong to.”

"Logan," you gasp, your voice breathy, edged with desperation as he pushes you closer to the brink. "Yours. Only yours."

A broken, shaky noise falls from his lips as he buries his face in your neck. He mouths at your skin desperately, presses his nose to where your scent is the strongest. 

Flashes of his release spraying your insides play behind his closed eyes, thoughts of drenching you so thoroughly that it has to take only forcing his hips to slam against the rippling muscle of your ass like you have your own magnetic pull. He feels it building, the slow swell of his knot presses against your folds, ready to burst.

“Come on, honey,” he begs, thumb coming down to rub slow circles over your slick clit. “Come with me, soak my cock. Show me how much you love it, how much you love me.”

Pathetic little uh uh uh’s fall from you with every thrust, broken up only by the breathy whines of his name as he pounds into you hard enough to push your body higher up the mattress. Finally, with a loud roar, he stuffs his growing knot inside of your cunt. 

Logan’s teeth sink into your neck before he can even think twice about it, the thick spray of his come filling you as his hands pull your hips down even further over his cock. He needs to be as deep in you as possible, to press forward until he can’t anymore, until his aching balls are flush with your gushing cunt.

He watches with rapt attention as you come with a loud wail, just from the feeling of his knot slotting into place. The clamp of your thighs over his hips is nearly as tight as the way your cunt seizes around him like it’s scared he’ll leave.

He groans at the over stimulation of your cunt milking his cock. Your slick leaks around the base of him, your shaking hole plugged so full it can only slip along the creamy ring to splash weakly against his thighs and hips.

Logan licks along the spot where his teeth pierced your skin, planting one last kiss before he’s taking you in his arms and rolling onto his back atop the mattress. The plush comforter sticks to his skin, your own sweaty body slipping against his as he tries his best to not jostle you too much while keeping you stuffed full of his cock.

He holds you to his chest until your breathing evens out, until your body stops trembling on top of his, until you’re nosing along the column of his neck.

“Logan?” Your voice is tiny, hoarse and scratchy. He feels your hand drawing absent minded shapes along the skin of his stomach. A circle, a star, a figure eight, a heart.

“Yeah baby?” he says, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, eyes slipping shut at the content feeling that spreads through him.

“Love you,” you murmur, voice soft but sure, the words slipping out without hesitation.

It’s the first time you’ve said it today, and hearing those three words from you sends warmth flooding through him.

Logan shifts slightly, pulling you even closer, his hand moving to the back of your head, cradling you with a kind of tenderness he used to think he’d never be capable of. “I love you too, darlin’. More than you know.”

Your body relaxes against him, the lingering effects of your shared intimacy still buzzing through your limbs, but now there’s a sense of peace, of safety, and a deeper connection.

He can feel the way your fingers curl lightly against his skin, the quiet smile that must be tugging at your lips as you press a kiss to the side of his neck.

And in that moment, with everything settled around him, Logan knows that this, right here, is everything.

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[oreo-creampie]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭, 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: quiet nerd!pleasure dom!choso, heavy praise/light degradation, dacryphilia, choso has a size kink, choso’s pov, oral (giving and receiving), knife play/no blood, light pain kink, pussy drunk/obsessed choso, squirting, fingering, light begging, light choking

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @vampress7; Hi baby girl I hope you’re doing well, I have an idea: nerdy, loner, and unassuming freak choso who absolutely wrecks reader after class during a study session ((I need this so badly))

‘He is wearing those sweat pants, I keep sneaking glances at his cock, I wanna see it. No need to see it, I'm dying of thirst! He can feed me his cum! I don't really care much for giving blow jobs but something about Choso makes me wanna gobble his cock till he is a whiny mess.’

‘Damn ily but you’re down too bad for a man you haven't even touched.’

‘I cant help it! Have you seen Choso?! I want to hear how he sounds when he cums.’

‘Aren’t yall supposed to study for friday’s exam you can’t fail this one!’

Writen in your text bar; ‘its hard to focus on what he’s saying. Choso’s thick arms in his black muscle t-shirt’

Choso’s cheeks are burning, his ego swelling, nerves churning, and disbelief whispering. Sliding his fingers through his hair, there is no denying you want him.

Glancing down at his cock, perfectly outlined by his thin sweats. His cock is getting warmer, longer, and thicker with each soft pulse. If you want his cock, you can have it any way you’re willing to take it.

You come back holding the fuzzy stripped criminal. “He broke my lamp, got it cleaned up but he’s ground.” You bend over for Jasper to jump to the floor, running away from you with his fluffy tail in the air.

Your shorts rising up your soft ass. “I’d hit ya from the back if I didn't want to see the face you make when you take my fat cock first the first time.” Your beautiful eyes widen, locking onto your phone in his hands.

Grabbing his hard cock, stroking himself through his sweats. You glance down. “Im torn between wanting to fuck that bratty mouth outta ya and eating you out till you’re trembling.” Your mouth looks so sweet and fuckable. You’d look so beautiful sucking his cock with tears running down your face.

“For me to be a good teacher I need to help you focus. If I help you cum will you pay attention more. We can snuggle while we study.” Holding your phone out for you to grab. Quickly discarding it on the coffee table.

His heart beating faster when you get on your knees in front of him. “If you were paying attention to the text then you’d know,” tugging his sweatpants down, “I won't be able to pay attention until I hear what sounds come out of that pretty mouth of yours.”

Moaning when you grab his cock, your hand soft, in your hand his cock has never looked so big before. “You can hear me moaning in your soft cunt. I don't think you understand nnn!” Loudly moaning when you take his cock into your hot wet mouth.

Bobbing your head, taking him deeper with slow strokes soothing the uncomfortable tighteness building in his of his cock. “Honeybun I jerked off to the thought of eating you out before comin’.” Cupping your cheek, jerking hips fucking your soft wet mouth.

“Been slutting you out in my head since ya walked into class.” Choso leans his head back, sliding his fingers through his soft dark hair. “We can do both, Im dying to taste ya sloppy cunt. I'll gag you with my fat cock nnnn oh fuck that’s iiittt! Grabbing a handful of your hair, fucking your soft mouth till spit is dripping down your chin.

Choso is getting off on your beautiful eyes sparkling with tears that trickle down your cheeks. “Are ya gonna be my whore help me take care of my fat cock?” Pulling you off his cock with a soft pop. His too heavy to stand up, hitting his cock.

Grabbing his cock, smacking his tip on your lips. “Wish it stood up, but what can ya do?” He knees wobble when you cup his balls. Lovingly kissing along his cock, easing the ache and tension, with sweet soft pleasure.

Your hand feels so good, his cock softly tingling. Smiling up at him. He can feel his heartbeat in the quickly pulse of his cock. “You’re so perfectly thick and heavy that you hang, nothing wrong with that handsome.” Licking up his cock, swirling your tongue around his fat head. He groans when watches himself slip inside.

Letting go of your hair, slipping his hands beneath your shoulders. Picking you up, you wrap your soft thighs around his waist. He feels strong holding you close, keeping you safe. “Gonna take good care of you, and your sloppy cunt.”

Squeezing your ass, carrying you with one hand. You grab a handful of his hair, and a tingle shoots down his spine when he feels your nails. “Bedroom is the last room on the right.” Taking you down the hall. “Please all I want is you. Wanna be your whore, ruin anyone else for me with your fat cock.” Trailing loving kissing along his jaw, his cheeks burning.

Opening and shutting the door behind himself. “Ill show you how badly I've been needing ya.” Gently setting you down, closing your curtains. Taking his shirt off, dropping it on the floor.

You’re making quick work of taking your shirt and shorts off. Admiring your beautiful body Choso forgets everything he’s doing. You give him one thought when you spread your legs showing him your soft wet cunt.

He needs to make you cum.

Kneeling, grabbing your soft thighs putting them over his shoulder. “So so so beautiful.” Kissing your soft clit, gently sucking, steadily stroking you with his tongue. Making sure his barbell rubs your clit with his swipe.

Nudging a thick finger into your tight cunt. You’re perfectly soft and wet, clenching his finger. Slowly pumping his finger, he’s going to find your g-spot. Clenching his head with your soft thighs. Grabbing his hair tugging, he groans from the sweet pain.

Focusing on your sweet spot. Taking pride in how easily you tremble because of his tongue and finger.

“They say the quiet ones are freaky, what about you? What do you think about when you're touching yourself?” Choso doesn't want to take his face out from between your legs. He’s found heaven, but he can't ignore your question.

Rising up, causing you to fall on your back, your legs over his broad shoulders. His cock hangs, his tip lightly grazing your soft, wet cunt. “Wanna take you to mine, get you high, give you a safe word,” trapping your head in between his hands, “tie you up, drag a knife across your skin, see you squirm, help you cum, hear you cry and beg to be my sweet little whore.”

His cock aches from having you folded up beneath him. “I wouldn’t mind trying some freak shit, get a knife from the kitchen.” Kissing your forehead, cheeks, and soft cunt. Carefully slipping your legs off his shoulders.

Choso is quick to grab a large knife from your kitchen.

Leaning over you, “Safe word is red.” Lining his cock with your soft cunt, rolling his hip. Dragging the knife up your side, gently kissing your soft lips. Groaning, grinding his thick cock on your sloppy cunt.

Squeezing your neck, pinning your hips with his, keeping you from squirming too much. Slipping his tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss. You’re so needy, and desperate, digging your nails into his back.

Loosening his grasp on your neck. “Ya good sweetheart?” Dragging the knife over your soft nipple, pulling his cock away. You’re so sexy, stuffing two thick fingers in your sweet cunt. “You’re getting so sloppy for me.” Curling his fingers, remember where your sweet spot is.

Smirking with pride when you moan, “Chooo please please please!” Gliding the knife down your stomach. Marveling at how you squirm, your cunt getting so tight around his thick fingers.

Your cunt’s lips and puffy clit wet, soft and beautiful. “I’m obsessed with how sexy you are begging’ for me, clenching my fingers.” Pressing the side of the knife to your clit, lightly rubbing your clit.

“I’ve been waiting long enough please please fuck me. Need to feel your fat cock in my cunt!” Choso’s cheeks burn with how you’re looking at him. He wants to remember the look of adoration, lust and pleasure on your beautiful face forever.

Lifting the knife off your clit, kissing her. “I didn’t prep ya enough yet sweetheart.” Dragging the knife along your thigh, adding more pressure than before testing what limits you have.

Stroking your clit with his thumb. “Nnnn oh fuck.” Pumping his fingers faster. - the pain- pleasure-I didn’t think!” You trail off moaning louder, biting your bottom lip, closing your eyes.

Holding the knifes to your neck, “Look at me or I’m stopping, look at whose making your tight little cunt feel so good.” Smiling when you look at him. “That’s it beautiful, lemme see the sweet look into your eyes when you cum. Whose slut are you?”

Rubbing your soft clit faster. “Your’s! All yours my tits, mouth, ass and cunt are all yours.” Dragging the knife down your neck, between your collarbones and swirling around your nipple.

“What are you? Need to hear you say it beautiful.” Messaging your sweet spot at a steady pace. You’re quivering, your cunt squelching, making his cock ache with how hard he is. His pulse quickens, making his head throb.

Swiping your nipple with the knife. “I’m your sexy good lil’ slutttt!!! Nnnn!” You’re squirting on his fingers, fingering your soft, squelching tight cunt. Playing with your puffy clit.

Jerking your hips away, he drags the knife down above your belly. Forcing you to have to keep still, your thick cum trickling from your spasming cunt. “There are so many nasty things I wanna do to you. I’m gonna ruin you, make your cunt crave my cock.” Gliding his fingers out.

Sucking your thick cum off his fingers, groaning from the flavor. Dragging the knife to your sloppy, sensitive cunt, sliding the knife around your sweet cunt. Groaning when your soft cunt clenches around nothing. “Beg for my cock.”

Oreo creampie’s m.list

[uluvjay]

First time for everything-Q. Hughes

Quinn Hughes x fem! Reader

In which Quinn lets you ride his face!

Warnings?; SMUT, oral (obvi), cursing, kissing, talks of sex, sorry for any errors I missed!

Day seven of my kinktober special!

You were never one to tell about your sex life, it had always been something that you liked to keep to yourself but tequila always did make you tell the truth.

Standing at a table with the wags, bored out of your minds while your partners played a round of pool a round of dirty never have I ever started at your table.

“Never have I ever sat on someone’s face” one of the girls spoke up, everyone around the table dropping a finger-besides you.

Everyone’s eyes snapped to you, jaws dropping open in shock as you kept your finger stayed up.

“Y/n you’ve never been eaten out?” One of them asked, face full of seriousness.

You blushed at her words, “I’ve had someone eat me out..just never sat on their face.” You laughed awkwardly.

“Girl! you’re telling me you and Quinn have never tried it?”

You felt your cheeks get even hotter at the mention of your boyfriend, there was no doubt that you two had a busy sex life but you two were pretty set in your routine.

“No, what��s the difference?” You questioned.

You proceeded to sit in silence for the next few minutes as everyone went around explaining how much better it is, how you good it feels to grind down on them.

The conversation was abandoned a few minutes later as some of the guys made their ways over and inserted themselves.

Later that night you found yourself lost in your thoughts on the ride home, thinking about if Quinn would want to try it or how he’d feel.

Getting into the apartment Quinn plopped down on the expensive couch a sigh of relief to finally be home as his social battery was long drained.

His eyes popped open when he still hadn’t felt your body next to his or even heard you move, “What’s wrong?” He asked softly.

“Nothin-“

“Don’t say nothing, you’ve been quiet since we left the bar.” He cut you off, sitting up to give you his full attention.

“I-me and the girls were talking about something..and it just got me thinking.” You shrugged.

Shuffling over to him you moved to straddle his lap relaxing into him as his arms wrapped around your body.

“Did someone say something rude?”

“No No, it’s about..sex” you knew your cheeks were bright red at this point but there was no going back now.

“Oh?..” Quinn drawled out hinting for you to continue on.

You laughed to shake the nerves before continuing, “we were playing never have I ever and the topic of sitting on someone’s face came up..and I never have.”

Quinn didn’t need you to tell him that seeing as he’s the only man you’ve ever been with he knew your body and your experiences like the back of his hand.

You didn’t miss the smirk that tugged at his lips at your admission knowing he was doing his best to keep his words to himself and allow you to keep talking.

“..And I’ve been thinking about trying it. If you’re okay with it.” You spoke locking eyes with his dark one’s.

You shivered as his hands ran along the outside of your thighs and under your short skirt that he’d been eyeing all damn night.

“You wanna sit on my face baby?”

“Mhm”

You watched in amusement as he tossed his Yankees hat across the room laid flat against the couch.

He didn’t waste anytime before pulling your body higher up his positioning you so you were hovering over his mouth.

His lips kissed the skin of your thighs, teeth nipping the skin lightly pulling small gasps from your plump lips.

“Knew you didn’t have any panties on.” He scoffed as his eyes found your bare cunt under your blue skirt.

You moaned as his breath met your cunt the teasing breath he blew towards your glistening folds sending shivers down your spine.

“Ready?” He asked softly.

“Yes, please” you whimpered.

Quinn didn’t have to be told twice before he was lowering you to his mouth, the initial contact causing your hips to buck slightly only for your clit to catch on the tip of his nose.

Your hands flew to his dark locks as his arms circled around your thighs to pull you ever closer soft vibrations of his moans flowing to your center.

His tongue moved in mysterious ways, going from shapes to his name whatever he knew would have you shaking on top of him.

“Fuck Quinn.” You moaned body slumping forward your arm shot out to grip the back of the white couch while the other was still tangled in His hair.

It was so good but so fucking dirty, your hips moved on their own accord as you pretty much humped your boyfriend’s face.

Quinn didn’t mind one bit as he was lost in his own little world eating you like you were his last meal, he could already feel his chin dripping with your juices and there was no stopping him.

He kept going until he was about to pass out only pulling back for a sharp intake of air before going right back to work, basking in the way your moans floated throughout the small living room.

His nose was something he found himself being insecure of when he was younger and it still bothered him from time to time but after feeling the way you rubbing yourself against it desperately he’d never worry again.

The pleasure was flowing throughout your whole body making it harder and harder for you to hold off your quickly approaching orgasm.

“Quinn! I’m close.” You cried out breathlessly chest heaving as you continued your movements back and forth.

You could feel the man below you manage a nod-his way of telling you to cum for him.

And all it took was a few more strokes of his tongue before you were shaking on top of him, your mouth dropping open in a silent scream.

Quinn grunted at how hard your hands pulled at his hair the pain mixing with the pleasure he was feeling from knowing you were getting off.

He let you go for a second allowing you to catch your breath but just when he felt you attempting to pull back from his face he dove back in.

“Fuck!” You squealed at the unexpected sensation the mix of his tongue and previous orgasm sending shockwaves through your body.

Quinn moaned at the taste of you the sweetness of your juices and cum filling his mouth as he continued to fuck you with his tongue until he brought you to another orgasm.

Only when he felt your legs give out did he let up, releasing his grip he allowed you to move back down his body.

Once he finally sat back up he pulled you into a dirty kiss you could taste yourself on his tongue, your juices that coated his chin and surrounding areas spreading onto your face.

His eyes were dark when he pulled back, a look you’d never seen before in them. He looked like a starved man that was ready to eat you over and over again.

“Feel good?” He panted pulling you into his side.

“Good is an understatement, we’ll be doing that much more often.” You blushed.

“Fuck yeah we will.” He agreed.

-

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Christmas Bells

Pairing: Dark Katsuki Bakugo x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: It’s your first Christmas with Bakugo and he makes sure it’s memorable. 

WARNINGS: Kidnapped reader; Implied Noncon/Abuse; Minor violence. 

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback 😊 Merry Christmas!

--

There’s a knock on the bathroom door, your name being called less than a moment later. 

“One minute!”

Suffocating back the sobs that insist on freeing themselves, your fingers desperately reach to wipe away the warm, sad tears that refuse to stop. You sniff, grabbing a nearby towel to wipe the gross snot that clings to your nose. 

Looking in the mirror for a quick check turns out to be a mistake. Deep under eyes circles, runny nose, red puffy eyes - you look awful.

Even more when you compare your ugly crying face with the red and yellow soft cotton Christmas pajamas you’ve been coerced into wearing, the one Bakugo is matching.  

Couple pajamas, he had grumbled when giving you the box. Because it’s your first ever Christmas together and he wants it to be memorable. Special. 

Special for him yet a nightmare for you. 

The last couple days have been hell. Bakugo’s been unbearable to deal with, having taken a week off of the hero duty just so he can spend quality time with you. You fervently wish he hadn’t.

Every moment spent by his side makes you uneasy and anxious, constantly walking on egg-shells as you await for the bomb that Bakugo is to set off.

Truth be told, you don’t want to spend time with him. You simply want nothing to do with him. He has a special way to become abhorrently overwhelming. 

Forced to play house with a delusional Pro-Hero isn’t what you want. 

You don’t want to wake bunched up in the suffocating embrace of his arms as his thick cock forces itself inside you.

You don’t want to set up the Christmas tree with him, pretending to care every time he asks you where do you want each fucking shiny ornament to be.

You don’t want him to kiss you like you’re his everything - like you’re a happy loving couple that has just assembled their first Christmas tree together.

You don’t want to play the role of a diligent girlfriend that peels off vegetables, sets up the dining table and washes the dishes and yet you do all of these tasks, knowing otherwise you’ll receive nothing but a nasty backhand and a speech on being a ungrateful brat, something that will sour both of your moods for the rest of the day. 

You don’t want to-

There’s a harder knock on the door. 

“Hey, you died in there or what?” 

Tilting your face up, your eyes lock into the ceiling at the same time as you take in a deep breath that does little to calm your nerves. You’re so tired, so fucking exhausted. Can’t even spend five fucking minutes without the asshole hunting you down. 

Knowing you have less than 60 seconds till Bakugo gets angry or worried enough to break down the bathroom door, something you’d like to avoid given it’s the only door in the apartment that has a lock, you reluctantly drag your feet to the door. 

Bakugo pushes the door forward as soon as you turn the lock open, entering the bathroom as he takes a good look at you, fixing his glare at your red eyes, still moist from your latest crying session. 

“What took you so damn long?” his question resembles an accusation, and you don’t miss the way his eyes dart around the bathroom, looking for whatever proof of an imaginary escape plan or so. 

“Nothing, was just washing my hands.” you lie, offering a placating smile. Bakugo nods, although distrust is still evident in his face but if there’s one thing you’ve learned is that suspicion is like a second nature to him.

Perhaps you deserve it but now, after almost 7 months after your last failed escape attempt, you’d think you’d been able to earn some trust. 

“C’mon, let’s go.” 

His hand reaches for yours, hot and firm as he always is, and you follow his lead as he takes you back to the living room. Confusion rattles your mind and you look up at Bakugo as he makes you settle on the couch by his side. 

“Hum…” you hesitate, lips parting as the blonde man lays his heavy arm across your shoulders, pulling you closer to him, “...I thought-” 

“Huh?” he doesn’t bother looking at you, busy fumbling with the TV’s remote control. He skips movie after movie till he finally settles at one of the Home Alone movies. A Christmas classic, you think. 

“I mean, isn’t it past bedtime?” A glance towards the digital watch on the wall reveals it’s  five minutes till bedtime. Surprising and shocking at the same time, as never once did he let you - or him - to stay up till this late. “I thought the curfew was nine thirty?” 

“Will you shut up and just watch the damn movie?” he snaps. You seal your lips tight after that, face immediately whipped to the front to stare at the cinematic 34-foot TV although you pay little attention to it. 

Awkward silence reigns as you watch the movie.

Nostalgia hits you hard as the movie carries on, your mind wandering through old dusty memories. You as a child, watching this exact movie curled in between your parents, laughing your ass off at the on-screen shenanigans. Simpler and happier times.

A dull pain stabs your heart at the thought of your family. How are they coping with the fact that their daughter went missing so many months ago, not even a single clue to her case. 

A part of you wonders how Christmas is going to be celebrated back in your home country, if your mom is planning to leave a sock for you in the fireplace, as she always has or if your dad is finally gonna buy that gift you had not to subtly begged for Christmas all those months ago…

Your nails dig deep into the back of your hand, a microscopic attempt to keep the tears from spilling as your eyes begin to burn. You can’t fucking cry - you reprimand yourself - if you cry, Bakugo is gonna be upset. If Bakugo gets upset, then you’ll have to deal with the consequences. And you don’t want that. 

“It’s Christmas.” his deep voice breaks out the silence, so random and unexpected you’re not even sure he said anything. He keeps his face straight forward, locked into the screen, even as you’re under the impression that he’s paying as much attention to the movie as you are. 

Bakugo sighs, finally looking at you and you don’t like how his red eyes pierce right through you, leaving you helpless and naked under his gaze. Like he can read every single emotion that boils inside you.

“It’s Christmas.” he repeats, voice softening. “First Christmas together, I mean.” 

“Yeah.” you stiffly reply. 

“Besides, we gotta wait till midnight so you can open your gifts.” he adds, pointing a finger towards the lit up Christmas tree, where some packages wrapped in red paper lay by its base.

A side of you feels curious about them, but another part warns you that nothing good ever comes with Bakugo. When did he ever give you something that is free of restrictions? 

“I didn’t get you anything.” 

“Huh?” 

“I don’t have a gift for you.” you explain. 

It’s a silly statement, although evident. You spend all day caged in his heavily-secured apartment with no way of leaving, no matter how much you’ve asked for it, and the few online shopping you’re allowed to do is on Bakugo’s laptop with the blonde man hunched over your shoulder, eagle-eyes following every purchase of yours. 

Bakugo shrugs off his broad shoulders, seemingly unbothered. 

Lacking the strength to further keep up with the pointless conversation you leave it at that. After a few minutes, the film fails to maintain your interest and soon you start drifting into a calm slumber, eyes drowsily slipping closed and barely aware of when Bakugo re-positions you so that your head lays onto the comfortable muscle of his bicep. 

Just a small nap, you sleepily think… 

“Hey, wake the hell up.” 

There’s an annoying tug at your arm. 

“Wake up, it’s time.” 

“Hm?”

Opening your eyes proves to be a difficult task with your eyelids awfully heavy. You yawn, sleep coating your features. 

Bakugo is no longer sitting by your side, but is bent in front of you, occupying all of your vision field. 

“It’s Christmas, already.” 

That certainly catches your attention, hands pushing against the couch to leverage you into a standing position. 

“Oh.” 

The clock marks exactly midnight and you stare at it, empty-minded. For a moment, you believe none of this is real, that you’ve imagined everything.

Any moment now, your family is going to start cheering and hugging you, felicitations and merry christmas’s being thrown around while everyone exchanges their gifts. 

Instead, reality hits you like a brick thrown to your face in the form of Bakugo’s squeezing hug, your face being pressed against his toned chest. 

“C’mon, let’s open your gifts.” he drags you to the tree, sitting on the wooden floor with his legs crossed as he pulls you into his lap, heavy arms immediately caging you in. 

“Start with that one.” Bakugo nudges a box with a rectangular shape to your way. 

It’s a bit heavy but as soon as your fingers reach for it, you immediately figure out it’s a book. 

As you unwrap the paper from the book, Bakugo squirms and pushes you a bit backwards, so your back meets his brawny chest.  

The cover of the book shows him - well, Dynamight portrayed in a comic artstyle.

“Dynamight’s Explosive Adventures” 

“It’s a comic book. Part of the new merch.” he slowly says. "Hasn't been released yet, and I warned the jerk editor that it can’t be published until my girl gives it her approval.”

You are surprised to learn how much Bakugo cared about your approval and opinion. A pleasant surprise and warmth rises to your cheeks. 

“That’s… really sweet.” you comment as Bakugo gives your neck a small peck. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” he brushes it off, “Just make sure to read that quickly.”

“Okay.” you almost sing the word out. You hesitate for a moment. “Thanks.”

The atmosphere feels strangely lighter, happier. It’s silly to feel like this when it’s something so small, so insignificant.

Still, you can’t stop the little smile that tugs the corners of your lips as you open the remaining presents: a shiny golden hand bracelet that Katsuki immediately fastens it down your wrist, a lip oil collection that you vaguely remember being on your wishlist. 

All of them are just nice presents and you wonder if you were being a bit too dramatic about it earlier. 

Reaching for the last one, Bakugo practically throws the small box into your hands, his chin resting heavily on your shoulder, his breathing obnoxiously heavy in your ears but you don’t dare to complain.

His arms tighten around your waist for a moment and you wonder if he’s nervous about this one. 

You receive your answer soon enough, heart dropping to your stomach as soon as you open the velvet black box, revealing an elegant ring inside.

A diamond encrusted ring band, to be exact. A engagement ring. 

No. 

Oh God, please no.

All of your jovial carefree behavior vanishes into thin air as Bakugo takes the ring out of the box, slipping it onto your annular finger and you wince when he pushes it down with a brutish strength until the overly small ring finally sits at the base of your finger. 

“Mrs. Katsuki Bakugo.” you can practically hear a satisfied grin behind those words.

That's all it takes for the dam that's inside your eyes to burst into miserable pitiful tears. From behind you, Bakugo growls - all traces of relaxation now gone - replaced by anger as he violently tugs your arm behind, forcing your body to face him.  

“No. No fucking tears.” his tone is harsh, and he takes it upon himself to swipe his big thumbs against your cheeks, cleaning up the endless fountain of water that your eyes have become.

Your hands weakly attempt to push him away, never meeting success in putting distance between your bodies as he immediately clutches your wrists. 

“I…Bakugo, I don’t want to-”

His lips capture your wobbling ones into a fervent, boiling kiss. His palm is large enough to cover the back of your head, stopping you from pulling away from the kiss. You’re trapped under his powerful strength, as you always have. You’re so stupid for fooling yourself into something that was never the reality. 

He kisses you with all of his ravenous, destructive passion until you’re nothing more than a limp body, until all signs of pathetic rebellion have left your body but not your mind. Your throat dries when his burning lips move to suck little spots on the sensitive skin of your neck, too many sharp teeth involved.

Your whole body itching to squirm away from him but somehow you manage to stay as immobile as a statue. You can only cry your eyes out. You’re weak, you’re pathetic, you’re-

“You asked ‘bout my gift, right?” his voice booms in your ear and you yelp as Bakugo pushes you down to the floor, crawling on top of you like the dangerous predator he is. His calloused hands already reaching for your pajama pants.

“You can fucking give it to me in nine months.” 

[gutsby]

Trigger Tease(r)

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Before his morning briefing, your mob boss husband decides to take a pit stop in the sauna with you.

Warnings: 18+. Oral (f!receiving). Gentle fingerfucking. Praise and degradation. Daddy kink. Dirty talk. Bucky talking you through it. Bimbofication if you squint.

Notes: @sluttylittlewaistenthusiast - you inspired me 🪽 I just had to crank out a little teaser for the third installment of Wedded Bliss. I hope y’all like it 💓

Full version here

In between breakfast and the start of your husband’s early briefing, you found yourself situated in much the same way you’d been spending a lot of time these days: pinned up against the wall of a wood-paneled sauna, Bucky’s broad shoulders supporting both of your legs as he buried his face deep between your thighs. You sighed.

“Hold still,” Bucky grunted, voice muffled as he tried to keep your slick, squirming body in place above him.

You yelped and seized a fistful of his hair when he wedged his tongue even further inside you, nudging your clit with his nose almost too teasingly and deliberate.

“I can’t…help it,” you bit back, ignoring the brief glare you earned from your husband as soon as you said it, “Your tongue’s just so— s— James!”

This time, Bucky let out a full-throated groan when you yanked on those poor wet locks of his—‘Gonna make me bald by next Christmas if you keep doin’ that, honey’—and he pried his head from your legs just long enough to knock you flat on the sauna bench close by.

The western red cedar seared hot on your skin, already flushed from the exhaustion wrought by Bucky’s tongue; you hardly had the strength to hold yourself up when he pushed you onto your back and crawled over your body.

“How ‘bout my fingers, doll? Can you take a couple’a those for me?” Bucky crooned above you as he stroked your hair, bathed in pure sunlight pouring in from the windows. His voice was a touch more sympathetic now.

After all, this was your third orgasm of the morning. It really wasn’t fair for him to use that biological weapon of mass destruction he liked to call his tongue when he knew how sensitive your clit would get from just one ‘O’. Even his hands might be too much in your current state.

Bucky was busy peppering your skin with kisses, working his way from the base of your neck to the crown of your head, when you whimpered and tried to fight a smile.

“Finger,” you corrected him, “Just one finger, Barnes.”

You would’ve thought you’d just thrown your wedding ring in his face and told him to eat shit. Just one?

“How’s one finger s’posed to stretch you out for my cock, huh? Practically had you screamin’ when I stuck it in last night,” Bucky wasn’t one to hide his amusement, grinning even bigger when you swatted him on the arm.

“Who said anything about your cock?” You tried to keep cool as Bucky’s fingers trailed right back down to the place you felt yourself throbbing, aching for his touch, “You have a meeting in ten minutes.”

“Meeting doesn’t start until I say so, my love,” Bucky reminded you just as his index ghosted over your folds.

In truth, he was willing to play this game any way, and for however long, you wanted it done, so long as he was the one bringing you pleasure. Be that his cock, his finger, or all fucking five on one hand, Bucky just wanted to get you off. It was better sustenance to him than the whole damn meal the two of you had eaten that morning.

Bucky kept it down to one digit and lightly circled your bundle of nerves when he sensed you were ready.

You gripped his forearm and shot a quick look between your legs, still in disbelief as to how he could make you feel this good so soon after you’d cum twice before. You felt his lips drift over to yours and steal a few kisses.

“Always doin’ so good for me,” Bucky praised, moving his finger in circles. When you whined against his mouth, he pressed it even harder, “Such a good girl for daddy.”

“James,” you breathed, clenching your legs together.

“Everything OK?”

“Uh-huh.”

More than OK, in fact. That delectable coil of sweet, euphoric release was already swelling gently in your tummy. Bucky moved his finger even faster.

“Tell me how it feels,” he murmured low in your ear.

Bucky loved seeing you try to articulate your feelings—relatively fresh and new to your world, still—while he was giving you pleasure. Adored the way you winced and whined and arched your back into his touch as a whole blustering hailstorm of sensations crashed over you.

He sank his tongue in your mouth as he kissed you, as if trying to extract the words from between your lips. Your response, in consequence, came somewhat stifled.

“Mm— feels so, oh—” Your voice broke off in a moan when Bucky tightened his circles, “—so good, daddy.”

“Wanna show daddy how good and cum for me?”

Bucky knew by the way you were whimpering under his hand that the tendril in your stomach had almost tripled in size. It wouldn’t take much to tip you over the edge.

“My sweet girl,” he said, rubbing your cunt at the same time he was stroking the back of your head, gently, “Feels so nice down there, doesn’t it?”

You rolled your hips against the bench and nodded. Your breaths were short and ragged, panting helplessly into Bucky’s mouth when he adjusted his hand just a little: pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit, with his index moving down to your entrance. Pushing inside you.

“Another,” you choked, not thinking.

Bucky met your desperate gaze and nodded, knowing this was exactly what you needed to make it over the precipice.

Still, he wouldn’t be Bucky if he didn’t tease just a bit.

“I thought my wife wanted one finger,” he hummed, brow pinching inward.

“No, no.” You could’ve shrieked when he curled the digit, “Want more— Bucky, please, please, I need more.”

Again, your husband appeared to nod in understanding, but his fingers didn’t budge. He worked his thumb a little faster and watched you writhe on the seat beneath him.

“How many, honey? Don’t wanna hurt my baby.” His words were all kindness, it seemed, but his tone laced with shameless condescension—the kind that said, yes, I know you need this, and no, I won’t indulge you just yet. Bucky was the worst when he wanted to prove a point. You could’ve ripped at his clothes and torn them in two if you weren’t both stark naked and shrouded in steam.

You opted to pull at his hair instead.

Bucky winced, but the smirk never left.

“I said how many?” he pressed again.

“Three. Four.” Fuck if you knew.

Your husband raised both eyebrows and hummed, a single finger still plunging in and out of your cunt in quick succession. He teased the tip of another at your entrance and smiled even more when you whined.

“Needy little thing, isn’t she?”

“Bucky—”

“Just wants to fuck daddy’s hand to get herself off, hm?”

Bucky didn’t bother to mask his sweet, degrading tone any longer as he talked down and teased you to no end. It drove him half-insane to see you squirm around, rut your hips, let him say the filthiest fucking words he could conjure up, and just bob your head to whatever he said. His impeccant wife and her insatiable needs—Bucky couldn’t even begin to express how turned on the sheer dichotomy got him. He stared in your eyes, all glossy and soft, and felt his cock stand even more rigid on his belly.

He didn’t give a shit if he’d taunted you enough or not; he just shoved his middle and ring fingers alongside the first and clenched his jaw to start fucking you hard with all three.

Your whole face contorted with pleasure, tinged with the faintest shade of discomfort at the tail end of it. You’d forgotten how big his fingers felt all together.

“Bucky,” you whined, mindlessly clawing at the wrist that was moving back and forth, fast, between your legs, “B-Baby, slow— slow down a little.”

But Bucky was deep in the zone. He knew you wanted it too—sensed that you liked to play it safe when it came to your pleasure and grew a little timid at times it got to feel too much—and he needed to talk you through it.

Rather than turn his head and keep to himself as he got you up to your peak, Bucky pressed his face down to yours and nodded again—this time with a tender sincerity.

“Feel a little stretch down there, huh?”

You didn’t have to say anything, just whimpering in time. Bucky kissed your forehead and let you fold into him as his fingers wreaked havoc down below. He kissed you again, and again, and in between kisses, mumbled,

“That’s daddy’s sweet, needy little slut.”

“My perfect fucking wife, so good at taking my fingers.”

“Gonna be nice and stretched out for my cock, hm?”

Every syllable spoken aloud was like a brand new catalyst for your impending release. You barely nodded your head, opened your mouth and whined pathetically, but that’s exactly how Bucky wanted you. Exactly how you needed to be, bucking your hips in time with the cadence of his fingers fucking inside you, and soon, those whimpers were turning to moans as that soft little helix inside you reached its breaking point.

Bucky brushed once or twice more against your sensitive spot, and suddenly you were coming undone all over him—crying his name, clawing his skin, squeezing your legs so tight around his wrist you feared you might snap it in two, and then getting kissed again, over and over while Bucky drank in your every sound, and the few tears that sprung to your eyes as they always did, like sweet nectar.

You were still moaning, curling your tongue feebly against his own and leaning into him as far as you could, when your husband slipped three fingers up between your mouths and pushed them past your parted lips.

“Suck,” Bucky said, gritting his teeth as he watched you, “C’mere, honey, taste your cunt on my fingers.”

You took him in and sucked your arousal off his fingers just like he asked. Took him by surprise and dragged a mindless, lazy, half-crazed and careless tongue all over his hand, where your juices had no doubt collected too.

That slutty, fucked-out look you gave him—like your brain had all but fallen out of your head with the orgasm he’d given you—was everything Bucky could’ve wanted.

He climbed on top of you and took the base of his cock, rock-hard and weeping tears of precum from the tip, almost drunk from the feeling himself. His mouth hung open as he dragged himself over the seam of your cunt.

“I need to fuck you.”

Taglist (STILL HAVE TO UPDATE THIS I'M DUMB AS SHIT): @vicmc624, @she-could-never, @mcira, @kentokaze, @identity2212, @unaxv, @buchi91, @ordelixx, @stinkerbelle007, @opibarnes, @wilsons-striped-ties, @desigirlxx, @pono-pura-vida, @geminiflanagansblog, @fandomsfeminismandme, @buggy14, @sky-full-0f-fl0wers, @buckysdoll1520, @armystay89, @minimarvelingmarvel, @kunakizen, @ghostiebby06, @blackhawkfanatic, @dameron-grant-spector, @sushiseoks, @deansapplepie, @mrsjoequinn, @lunaroserites, @first-edition, @kaybaby2494, @jaggedsi, @excusememrbarnes, @daisychainsoflove, @mostlymarvelgirl, @diannana, @shawnberry, @yujyujj, @urmomsalex, @mrs-bucky-barnes-73, @athenabarnes, @christinabae, @wintrsoldrluvr, @bethbunnyy, @i-heart-smut @dixsond

[emmyrosee]

NO WAY I HAVE A THOUGHT HOLD ONN

I just saw this TikTok of this girl that has a bf w a lot of tattoos and she gets this colourful eyeshadow pallet from her makeup bag to COLOUR IN THE TATTOO if u get what I mean like the tattoo could be like a butterfly or a dragon AND SHE COLOURS IT IN WITH HER COLOURFUL EYESHADOW PALETTE and omg I IMMEDIATELY thought of SUKUNA it’s be such a cute interaction 🥹🥹

-Anon🥢

GOD THIS IS SO CUTE-

——

Sukuna naps. More than he should.

He can fall asleep anywhere and everywhere, for long stretches of time that you should be concerned with, had he not been doing it since the beginning of your relationship.

Your first date was not worth paying for a movie, candy and popcorn, when he merely slept the whole time. You could’ve done it for free at home.

Regardless, here you were, repeating history as he snores loudly next to you, his arms crossed as he sleeps soundly, lips parted to let out small little huffs. You sigh and grab your phone to scroll, no longer interested in the movie without having someone to talk to about it.

The first thing to pop up, has you smirking, with a girl shading in her boyfriends tattoos with eyeshadow. Granted, sukuna doesn’t have shapes of tattoos, but he has plenty of tan skin to cover.

You squeal and run to grab your palette and a brush, suddenly more excited than you realized to color in your boyfriend.

You start with a gentle touch on the circle of his shoulder, dipping into a peach that looks enough like his skin tone if he were to wake up.

When he doesn’t, that’s you’re cue to keep going. It doesn’t take long before he’s absolutely covered in pigment.

The small bit of skin between the tattoos on his chest are quick to be colored in, your brush gently dusting over his skin to apply the color. His face twitches but ultimately, he stays asleep. You deem him out of it enough to straddle his lap, allowing you more access to his tattoos and tanned skin, nearly laughing as he stays asleep, arms laid limp at his sides.

Bright pink blends into bright purple in the gaps of his tattoos, and in the gap of skin below the ink, mint green turns to light blue. You smile and clean your brush with another swirl on a paper towel, dipping into a lilac color and swirling it on the slender bit of skin on his bicep above the skin not needled with ink.

Your brush trails a tad too close to under his arm, and he scrunches his face and shakes you off. You pause, holding your breath, but you’re out of luck as he screws his eyes tight and grunts in exhaustion.

“Whyre you tickling me?” He grumbles, stretching awake and smacking his lips together. “I’ll kill you. We’ve been over this.”

“I’m not,” you hum, pressing a kiss to his cheek and brushing a lock of hair off of his forehead. “How was your nap?”

“S’good.” He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms, and when he blinks his eyes open to look at you, his brows furrow at the colorful eyeshadow palette on your lap, “you doing some makeup shit?”

You sink your teeth into your lip, “uhm… kind of?”

“The fuck you mean kind of? It’s a yes or no-“ red eyes fall to his arm, face flat as he eyes the colors splashed over his body, some blended in together, others just solid colors filled onto his skin. You laugh nervously as he continues to look down at his torso. “So, you want me to beat the shit out of you?”

“No,” you giggle. “I wanted to make you prettier.”

“I’m already pretty enough, don’t use my body like a damn coloring book, you freak.” He stretches his arms out, brows furrowing as he sees the full extent of your coloring, “fucking- how mUCH EYESHADOW DID YOU USE?”

“Not a lot!” You defend. “It’s a pigmented palette.”

He glares at you, “and you’ve got the nerve to ask me to buy your fuckin’ makeup when this is the shit you pull!”

“You’re the one who fell asleep in the middle of the movie!” You whine, shoving his chest gently. “I needed to entertain myself somehow!”

He catches your shoving hand into his big one, and you gulp nervously, “I’m old. I sleep a lot. This ain’t news.”

The fact he hasn’t yelled at you tells you everything you need to know, and you grab your brush again to continue. “Hey! I’m scolding you, dickhead!”

“Im listening,” you assure, popping the brush into the yellow and moving to the other tattooed circle on his shoulder. “Youre old, I know, you like sleeping, I know-“

“That was not an invitation for you to keep coloring!” He hissed.

You look back up at him though your lashes, pouting subtly, “aw, jeez- fuck you, you know that?” He snarls, and when you blink at him, he rolls his eyes and sits up to be nose-to-nose with you. “Stay out of my armpits. Do not color my face. And so help me, if you take any pictures-“ when your pout deepens, his lip curled into a snarl, “fuck you. ONE. picture.”

“You’re the best!” You mewl, peppering his face with tiny kisses. “The best boyfriend anyone could ask for-“

“Shut up and keep coloring before I change my fucking mind.”

[kamiversee]

Fuck Me Through It ꨄ

[ { Synopsis } ] ➤ You and Geto seemed to have craved each other’s bodies more than either of you initially let on— hence why a hot & heavy phone call with him wasn’t enough to satisfy him. (Part One)

[ { Need to know } ] ➤This is a What-If scenario that stems from my fic; The F*ck List— A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt.

[ { Content & Warning } ] ➤ f!reader, dirty talk, language, manhandling, tw; spitting & slight mention to satosugu, Suguru's mouth is filthy as per usual... you get the rest.

[ { Paring } ] ➤ Geto Suguru x f!reader. Perv!Geto x f!reader.

[ { Word Count } ] ➤ 3.1k

——TOO ADDICTING. YOUR CUNT WAS too damn addicting.

Geto not only realized that, but he accepted it. Yeah, watching your fingers disappear inside your dripping hole for a bit while he jerked off was stimulating but, how dare you only cum at the mention of his best friend?

Yeah, there weren’t any feelings involved between you and Geto but damn, he’s almost disrespected that only by mentioning Satoru did you manage to cum.

Which perfectly explains why he was at your doorstep within the next few minutes. He didn’t knock or anything, simply texted you since he knew Shoko was home and probably asleep.

It was one o’clock in the morning by this point and yet there he was, impatiently waiting for you to open the door for him.

And when you do, you don’t even get to say hi or anything as he’s stepping in, roughly grabbing ahold of your jaw, and tugging you close while crashing his lips into yours.

Your apartment door is messily closed and locked as Geto hungrily makes out with you. Once the door is taken care of, his free hand latches onto your waist and you’re simply melting in his touch.

Oh Geto Suguru was pissed by this point. He’s not a jealous man, nor does he hold any romantic feelings for you— he thinks. But, you got off because of Satoru and not him? Again, how dare you?

He was going to remind you why you’re friends with benefits. Yeah, you must’ve forgotten who the hell he is.

It’s okay though. Because now, here you were whining into his mouth as he walked you to your bedroom, messily causing your back to bump into a wall or two on the way.

Gasping, “S-Suguru-“

“Shut up,” He groans into your mouth before tugging your lower lip meanly. Both your eyes crack open and his are low and aggravated, “You pissed me off,” He speaks into your mouth.

His kisses are hot, angered with you as his hand drops from your jaw and to your neck, tightly gripping onto you and earning a moan from your wet lips.

Geto’s tongue is being shoved down your throat in an attempt to silence you but of course, your horny ass just whines and whimpers against him. You had some damn nerve. Now you wanna be loud?

A ticked-off smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he finally gets to your bedroom and shuts your door behind him, locking it as well.

“M-Mmh,” You hum, “M’Sorry-“

“Didn’t I say shut up?” He breathes into your mouth, pulling away only a little to speak, “Satoru turns you on more than me, hm?” he suddenly asks.

Your lips part to answer but then you just shake your head no.

“Uhuh, right, we’ll see about that,” He scoffs, his lips mashing back into yours.

His tongue is entering your mouth yet again, swirling and intertwining with yours as the two of you near your bed. The back of your legs soon makes contact with the bed and Geto shoves you down onto the mattress, hands going to your waist to do so and lips barely leaving yours.

He’s swallowing you up, consuming your mouth entirely as he makes out with you messily— going as far as pulling away and leaving your mouth wide open just for him to spit onto your tongue. Your eyes widen and cunt throbs before his tongue is searing over your own.

You think you liked jealous Suguru… He was kinda hot. Okay, kinda is an understatement because you were soaking in your panties all over again just because of him being so rough and passionate with you.

He’s got you laid out beneath him and you moan so helplessly as his hard cock grinds down into your clothed cunt. He was twitching, aching-, leaking at the thought of what he was about to do.

Get knows Shoko’s just down the hall in her bedroom but, that only adds to his excitement. Hence why he pries his lips from yours and shifts over to your ear, “You’re gonna keep quiet f’me while I fuck some sense into you, right?”

He does not miss the way your pussy twitches and clenches around nothing more than the mere bulge pressing against you. Nodding, you answer him quietly as his words drive you crazy.

Shit, your body was so hot, you could feel your arousal building back up all over again. His lips are pressing into the side of your neck for a moment before he’s leaning up and tugging his shirt up and over his head, flinging it elsewhere in a hurried manner.

You simply stare up at the man with wide, slightly glassed eyes, dazed by his haste movements and not truly processing the fact that you were going to have to be quiet while Suguru fucked you.

Shit, you’re just now realizing that. How can you keep quiet? His mouth is so naughty with you and if he’s upset then that means he’s about to-

His hands are slipping beneath your top before you can even finish your thoughts, roughly pulling the item up and over your head before tossing it just as he did his own shirt. Yeah, Geto wanted you creaming around his cock now— he needed to remind you what he does to your body.

He moves back and off the bed only for a moment to drop his sweats and his boxers, revealing that heavy unforgiving curved size of his. You could feel yourself dripping at the sight.

Geto gestures his hand hastily, “Everything off.”

“Sugu-“

“Now,” He demands, “Don’t even know why you put all that shit back on in the first place.”

You’re moving to take off the remainder of your clothes, looking up at his darkened eyes as you do so and then scoffing, “Well, I didn’t wanna sit here naked and waiting to get fucked like some slut-“

“But…” He watches as the rest of your clothes slip off and he smirks, “You were waiting to get fucked like some slut.” Geto teases.

It seemed like his mood had lightened up a bit, “Shut up,” You whisper playfully. Maybe he was about to go easy on you-

His body was looming over yours all over again as he quickly got back into the bed. Good lord-, seeing those broad shoulders of his hovering over you, messy black hair dangling down and framing both of your faces before he moves a hand to push some of it back— not that this action really helped.

Then, your legs part nice and wide for him, cunt a wet mess just how he likes. A whine leaves your lips as his eager tip suddenly grazes your cunt.

Geto leans down to you, nice and close as he rubs just the tip of his cock in between your folds, wetting himself up with your slick and teasing you like crazy before he speaks, “Hold your legs open f’me,” He directs.

Your arms move to hook under your knees, legs bending and spread perfectly for him— to which he smiles.

His lips press to your ear for only a moment as the head of his cock nudges inside your hole, “Good girl,” He purrs and fuck does it make your pussy attempt to suck him all the way in.

“Suguru,” You whisper out, “P-Please-“

“Oh? Look at that,” He coos, tilting his head as he merely rutted only his tip in and out of you, occasionally slipping it out and up to tease your clit a few times, “Here you are begging for my cock… Again.”

You groan slightly, “J-Jus’ put it in, fuck…”

He snickers against your ear, continuing to make his shallow and teasingly soft thrusts, “No.”

A more frustrated groan leaves your throat, “Please Suguru, p-pleaseee… Want you s’bad.”

“Yeah?” His cock twitches wildly and he resists the urge to sink every inch of himself into you, “What do you want me to do?”

“Want’ you to make me cum, please,” You beg, “Fuck me Sugu…”

Leaning away from your ear a bit, “Mmmmmh… Nah, why don’t you get off on the thought of Satoru again?” He taunts, tipping his head to the side.

You frown, “I don’t want to, I want you.”

“I want you, I want this, I want that,” He mocks, inclining down to your face and staring you dead in the eyes, “Tell me what you need ‘nd stop bein’ a fuckin’ brat.”

Your head turns to the side to avoid his piercing lustful gaze, “M’not bein’ a brat, you’re jus’ bein’ mean.”

Oh that takes him by surprise, causing his head to cock back a bit, “Oh really? I’m bein’ mean? Y’know what, I can show you mean,” That last word of his leaves with a harsh and sudden push of his cock into you.

“Ohmy-,” You couldn’t even get it out before he slapped a hand over your lips causing the rest of your statement to go muffled.

In your ear again, his hips just pushing and pushing and pushing until his fat tip and resting right where you needed him, “Shut up,” Geto grunts into your ear, feeling the way your cunt just closes around his cock in response.

With not a moment's rest, because fuck that-, you had the nerve to call him mean? Yeah, fuck you, literally. Geto’s drawing his hips back in an instant and snapping them back down into yours with a heavy thrust, cock curved and knocking into that mind-blurring spot inside you.

He can feel you whimpering against his hand but, again, he doesn’t care. “Callin’ me fuckin’ mean.” He huffs out, working up a deep yet slow rhythm with you, “Since when am I mean to you? Hm?”

Your lips parted against his hand, wet and warm breaths felt hitting his palm.

Geto scoffs, “You couldn’t even answer me without bein’ loud, could you?” He teases, knowing that if he takes his hand away from your lips, those sweet yet filthily loud moans of yours will fill the air.

You nod a bit, trying to convince him that you could, to which he lifts his hand only a bit from your mouth, “I c-can-,” You tried to say, but of course, Geto just had to give one harsh thrust into your cunt to make it difficult for you.

Your eyes flicker and a moan escapes your throat, earning a laugh from him, “You were saying?”

“Mmgh, s’not fair,” You mumble out.

He frowns to mock you, “Ohh, now I’m unfair?”

“Ha-agh… Suguru,” You whine, feeling his hand rest atop your lips once more as his pace picks up.

Shaking his head at you in disappointment, Geto pulls his hips all the way back before shoving every inch of his cock back in, leaving no corner of your cunt untouched and making you moan loudly against his hand.

And thank fuck for his palm being there because that sexy sound he’d usually love to hear would’ve echoed throughout your quiet room.

“You’re loud as fuck, y’know that right?” He grunts into your ear, voice husky, “Do you want Shoko to hear? Wanna’ wake her up to come see you gettin’ stuffed full of my cock?”

Your gummy walls clamp around his shaft and he lets out a guttural but low grunt right into your ear.

“Ohhh fuuuuck, you’re squeezin’ me like you want that,” He pants, “You want your roommate to catch you bein’ cockhungry f’me? Hm?”

“Sugu-,” You moan against his hand, feeling him press his palm down into your face a bit harder as you mumble a pleading, “Shut up…”

“Don’t tell me to fuckin’ shut up,” Geto’s talking right into your ear now, hips drilling down into your cunt at a mean pace, “Needy pussy’s down there milkin’ my fuckin’ cock just cause’ I implied Shoko may catch us.”

Another moan is felt against his hand and his thrusts grow faster. Your cunt was fluttering around him, sucking him in deep every time he pulls back, begging him to keep going-, to make you cum.

His sanity was waning for a moment. Shit, your pussy was so fucking addicting. God, he wanted to stay here all day-, all night. Aside from your muffled moans, the harsh thwack of his hips to yours picked up and the sloppy meet of his dick into your hole was getting louder.

His breath was hot and heavy against your earlobe as he started to just say whatever came to mind, “Bet you won’t cum at the thought of Satoru instead of me again,” He huffs out, “He wasn’t even the one on the phone with you. I was, pretty girl. I was the one talkin’ you through it-, helpin’ you out.”

You give him a weak nod as he shifts ever so slightly and knocks the already little air out of your lungs, “Mhmmm,” You hum desperately in agreement.

“Hahh…” He pants, and suddenly, something in his brain just snaps, “Hell, whose cock is inside you right now? Mine or his? Hm?” He questions rhetorically before his hand moves away from your mouth and down to grab a rough hold of your jaw again, “Who’s fucking you dumb, huh?”

Your jaw falls in his grasp and he forces your head to turn to his, your eyes meeting his carnal gaze, “H-Hhgnn… Y-You, fuuck… oh my-, fuck fuck-,”

“Say my fuckin’ name. Who’s fucking you dumb right now?” Geto questions again, voice making your back arch off the bed slightly as a knot builds up in your core

“Suguruu-, hahhh… ngh-, i-it’s y-you Suguru,” You moan out, not knowing if you’re being loud or not.

He nods, watching the way pleasureful tears well up in your eyes, “Yeahhh, that’s right. It’s my cock makin’ you feel good right now. I’m the one deep inside you, sweets.”

A hitched gasp leaves your throat and Geto could tell you were about to let out the most sinful and loud whimper as he finally finds that mushy and tingly spot inside you. So, to prevent such a throaty noise, despite loving the sound, he quickly jerks his tongue past your parted lips.

The whimper is felt against his mouth as he kisses you passionately, swallowing up every bit of that beautiful sound you make every time you’re about to cum. Fuck, he was so addicted.

He’s pounding into you by this point, fucking you through the overwhelming orgasm you have. Your legs were shaking within your hold, you were choking slightly against his lips, and fat tears streaming down your cheeks.

When Geto does pull away from you, there’s a heavy wad of saliva hanging from his lips that connect to yours, the mess so very sexy to the man as his cock bullies your sweet spot.

He watches as your eyes roll back and your body jerks with his every thrust, hearing the quieter whines that leave your fucked out, kiss-swollen lips as he does so.

Geto’s brows push together and he groans out your name, “See? That’s how the fuck it’s supposed to be, you cum because I made you cum, not ‘cause I mentioned someone else,” He huffs, “Got it?”

You nod dumbly, “M-Mhmm.”

“Answer me with words, slut,” He spat out harshly.

“Y-Yes Sugu,” You whine softly.

A satisfied smile takes over his features and he plants one gentle kiss on your lips, his hips still thrusting into you at a slight angle, curved and weeping cock making your legs tremble, “Good girl. Such a good girl f’me,” He whispers to you.

You flash a fucked out little smile and that just about does it for him, his thrusts growing sloppy as he utters more into your mouth.

“When we’re together, you’re my good girl, alright?” He huffs, “Cause’ no one else is makin’ you cum other than me anyway, not even yourself.” Geto teases.

You pout at the man before letting out a moan all too loud. Reacting quickly, he just takes his hand and then shoves two fingers into your mouth, earning a groan from your throat.

“Shhhh, I don’t feel like explaining to Shoko that I needed to fuck some sense into you,” Geto sighs playfully, “I’m almost done though, don’t worry.”

You carefully suck on the digits in your mouth and his cock unintentionally bumps deeper into you at the sight.

“Damn, you’re so fuckin’ sexy,” He breathes, “Love’ when you do that.”

You smile again around his fingers and he leans up, pulling them out your mouth before bringing them to his own, sucking the taste of your tongue off his skin.

“Mmmh, shit. I jus’ can’t get enough of you, gorgeous,” He compliments, smiling down at you before his cock is pulled out of you quickly.

Your eyelashes flutter in careful blinks as you pant, feeling the way he decorates your torso in his messy ropes of cum.

He pants along with you before tossing his head back and letting out a long sigh. The two of you remain still and in silence for a bit, neither of you knowing that if anyone had even stood in the hallway of your apartment and outside your bedroom, they would’ve heard how loud your cunt was.

The harsh smacks that left the room due to the constant meeting of skin would’ve made it obvious to anyone who walked by.

Yet, luckily for you and Suguru, Shoko was dead to the world in her bedroom— deep in her slumber and not knowing anything that transpired just down the hall.

You suppose that’s a perk of being Geto’s fuck buddy— he helps you be quiet & keep secrets… sometimes.

“Oh yeah,” Geto suddenly says, “I know about Satoru’s fingers because he touches me a lot. And no, not like that. He’s just a touchy fuck who doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself. I’m sure you know that already though.”

“Riiight,” You murmur, giggling a bit, “You sure there’s never been a time Satoru has wrapped his hands around your c-“

“No.” He cuts off to answer, “I’ll fuck you again if you finish that sentence.”

“Cock,” You murmur purposefully.

With a sigh, Geto moves to lean over you again, “Fuckin’ brat,” He sighs, “All night it is then.”

“Okay, okay, wait I was jus’ joking!” You huff out, laughing a bit.

He tips his face down and kisses you softly, “Mhmm, you better have been.”

tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

[crushmeeren]

master list link touya art by birf.

༝ ᭝ ༝ this was written to be the counter part of bodyguard! katsuki by @with-my-calamitous-love ! ༝ ᭝ ༝

Bodyguard! Touya, who was a sketchy hire at best. Who your mafia boss of a Father discovered on a Craigslist ad. Who has a rap sheet a mile long, which is why he was chosen. It includes, but is not limited to; arson, grand theft auto, breaking and entering, assault, etc. Whose scars and piercings scare off any lingering, unwanted leering.

Bodyguard! Touya, who is so stupidly hot that it just pisses you off. Who’s aware you have a crush on him, even when you threaten to shove your hand down his throat to shut him up. Who jokes “don’t think I’d be too fond of your hand down my throat doll, but I’m all for you sittin’ on my face if you really wanna keep me quiet.” It absolutely does not make your belly flutter with a sweet, rich heat.

Bodyguard! Touya, who stays glued to your side once he’s “welcomed” into the family. Who follows you to the grocery store, to work. Who waits patiently outside in his car until you’re off shift. Who does not give you a damn inch of space when you go bar hopping, hovering like an overprotective Doberman, snapping at anyone who dares to venture too close.

Bodyguard! Touya, who wears a perpetual catlike grin, eyes full of amusement each time you bitch at him for being overbearing. Who secretly loves it when you’re mean to him, blood rushing south when your lip curls and you cuss him out. Who takes it in stride, teasing you relentlessly until your cheeks are flushed and you’re on the verge of slapping him across the face.

Bodyguard! Touya, who gets antsy and fidgety out of nowhere. Who, when he deems you safe with friends, will disappear for ten minutes, tops. When he returns it’s with bloody, busted knuckles and white hair sticking to sweaty temples. Who always pokes fun at you when your concern shows plainly on your features, reassuring you that “it’s nothing I can’t handle, doll. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

Bodyguard! Touya, who, despite getting on your last nerve, never crosses a line. Who maintains a respectful distance between you, never touching you unless it’s dire. Who grows on you as you learn about his past. Who you catch smiling at you with soft eyes when you animatedly explain something to your friends. Who drives you insane when he tugs on a lock of your hair where it’s fallen loose, lids lowering, grinning lazily as the tension notches up between you.

Bodyguard! Touya, who one day goes to retrieve the car for you while you wait outside the entrance of a bar. Who appears out of thin air when a guy crowds in your personal space and grabs your ass. Who fists the guys collar from behind and throws him around the corner into an alley, beating him until he’s unconscious.

Bodyguard! Touya, who you shove up against that same alleyway wall and kiss until your lungs burn. Whose kisses are hot and slick, chasing you and sneaking his soft tongue into your mouth when you try to break apart and swallow some air. Who you make out with until you’re dizzy, until Touya pushes you in the direction of his car. Who can’t help himself and smacks your ass when you walk in front of him.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

Bodyguard! Touya, who commands you to get into the back seat of his car. Who drives you to the first abandoned parking lot he can find before he joins you. Who manhandles you into straddling his thighs, cupping the back of your neck and coaxing you into another blistering kiss.

Bodyguard! Touya, who moans low in his throat when you grind down onto his stiff cock. Who reaches into his pants and readjusts himself until slick tip peaks out of his waistband. Who places his palms on your lower back, pressing his fingers into the muscle there and helps guide the slow roll of your hips.

Bodyguard! Touya, who surges up and sinks his blunt teeth into the side of your neck. Who leaves dark hickies in a chain along your throat, ignoring your breathy warning not to leave visible marks. Who murmurs in your ear “I don’t give a shit what your Father says, I want everyone to see you’re fuckin’ mine now.” Who roughly shoves his overly warm hands up the front of your shirt, under your bra, and squeezes handfuls of your tits.

Bodyguard! Touya, who doesn’t protest when you instruct him to recline against the door. Who lifts his hips, cooing at you in a patronizing tone when you yank his pants and briefs to mid thigh. Who pets your head as you settle between his thighs, laughing at your affronted expression. Who gasps in delight when you swallow his cock in one go, securing you in place with a hand to back of your head until your throat constricts around him.

Bodyguard! Touya, who gets impatient and pulls you off his cock, shaft shiny with your spit and twitching. Who sits up and, with slender fingers, helps free one leg from your pants, letting the rest dangle on your other ankle. Who shifts you both until you’re hovering on your knees over his lap, tugging off your shirt and bra. You complain about being entirely naked when he’s not even close, but he argues that he just needs to see your tits bouncing while you ride him.

Bodyguard! Touya, who grips your ass when you reach down to circle your fingers around his shaft, steadying him, and sink down onto his cock with ease. Who lets you rest your forehead on his, fisting the shirt covering his shoulders as you adjust to the new blood buzzing ache in your pussy.

Bodyguard! Touya, who lacks self control. Who urges you to move with a sharp smack to the ass. You get the message, hastily rising and sitting down until you find a decent rhythm that allows you to bounce. Who, after awhile, sinks lower into the seat, forcing you to sit up straight, and braces his feet. Who meets you thrust for thrust after that, moaning through his teeth when you cry out.

Bodyguard! Touya, who can’t shut up when your pussy starts to squeeze him. Who babbles “ah fuck, that’s it babygirl. You’re about to cum, yeah? Fuckin’ cum for me, I know that sweet pussy loves me.” Who fucks you through your first orgasm, having to bite down harshly on the knuckle of his pointer finger to last through the second one.

Bodyguard! Touya, who inhales sharply after the second time you cum, gritting his teeth and yanking you down with both hands on your waist as his own pleasure swells and bursts. Whose head thumps back onto the seat, his sweet moan of your name making your pussy tighten once more.

Bodyguard! Touya, who manages to get you redressed and into the passenger seat, still intent on bringing you home by your curfew. Who, before he puts the car in drive, takes hold of your jaw and leans across the console, leaving but an inch of space between you. Who smirks playfully and promises “next time I get you alone, I’m tastin’ that pussy. You’re gonna sit on my face, doll.” Who then winks and acts as if nothing happened, whistling as he begins the long journey back to your home.

Bodyguard! Touya, who leaves you dumbfounded and with a furious blush. Who annoys the ever loving shit out of you, but leaves you a bit too close to falling in love for your comfort.

[joelmillerisapunk]

Lunch Break | 3.6K

Javier Peña x coworker f!reader

Summary: Javi edges you at work

Warnings: unprotected p in v, fingering, oral, reader has hair that's pullable, vibrator, public sex, lots of edging

Notes: This is the only Javier fic I've ever written so sorry if everything is not great to his characterization. I hope you enjoy. A big thank you to the sweetest @sawymredfox for reading this for me and helping me with the Spanish love you so much! Thank you to my love @thundermartini for reading bits and pieces for me love you love you! and @syd-djarin for the mood board love youuuu!

Masterlist

Reality dawns on you while seated on the hard black leather chair in the conference room—everyone filing in—you realize with a sinking heart that in your haste this morning, you neglected to remove your vibrator from its spot in your back pocket ‘Fuck’,  you chide yourself silently, 'you can be so stupid sometimes.'

With an air of nonchalance that belies your inner turmoil—the embarrassment of potentially being caught with such an intimate item—you navigate towards the back corner where solace awaits by way of a coffee pot; 'Just get through this meeting,' you reassure yourself, 'then it's straight to your car.'

As you stand by the coffee machine, the weight of the object in your back pocket feels conspicuous. You can't help but wonder if it's as noticeable to others as it is to you. Before you can even pour that first cup of coffee—a balm for your nerves Javier Peña sidles up next to you, his own cup of black coffee already in hand “Why does it look like there's a giant bullet in your back pocket?” he queries with an infuriating smirk playing on his lips.

"Why are you staring at my ass, Peña?” You lean against the surface of the coffee machine and muster up enough bravado for one last retort before this encounter ends mercifully soon; "Maybe I’m housing the next big thing in bullet technology," you toss back at Peña with feigned nonchalance while internally cursing yourself for not double-checking your pockets this morning like you usually do. You fill up your cup from the pot, hoping he takes the hint and moves away. But instead of leaving, he stays put and reaches into your pocket. Your spin around and your face burns with embarrassment as he holds up what he found - a pink vibrator - between his thumb and forefinger. You stand there, momentarily shocked—but honestly, not really. This kind of childish, middle-school game is typical of Javier. Always stirring the pot, always trying to get a reaction. You glance around the room, noting how everyone else is busy with their own conversations, laughing or small-talking, completely oblivious to the little scene unfolding between you and Javi.

Your eyes snap back to him, your annoyance clear as you extend your hand. “Give it back,” you demand, voice firm.

“Not until you tell me what it is,” he says, holding the item just out of reach with a teasing knowing smirk.

“Oh my god,” you groan, exasperated. “Just give it here, and I’ll show you.” You stand there, arm still outstretched, palm up, waiting for him to cooperate. The irritation bubbling inside you is hard to contain, especially since it seems painfully obvious to you what it is. 

Javi finally relents, placing it into your palm with a grin that suggests he knows he’s gotten under your skin. You curl your fingers around the hard plastic, sighing as your other hand moves to the opposite end of the device. Twisting it, the small pink vibrator quietly buzzes to life.

You lock eyes with him, deadpan. “Happy?”

Without waiting for a response, you switch it off and shove it back into your pocket, hoping to move past this absurd moment.

Javier blinks at you, a mix of surprise and amusement flickering across his face. It’s clear he’s not entirely shocked—like a part of him always suspected you weren’t as straight-laced as you let on.

“So damn gullible. Why the fuck did you bring that to work?” He chuckles, shaking his head.

"That's confidential, Peña—classified. Don’t ever touch my shit again, or I’m reporting you." You spin on your heel and stride away, your shoulders tight with frustration, planting yourself in a chair at the far end of the table. Javier Peña stands frozen for a moment, a smug smile tugging at his lips as he watches you leave.

The meeting drags on endlessly, each passing moment heavier than the last but as soon as it concludes, you bolt from the room, your legs carrying you to the parking lot faster than you thought possible. You yank the car door open, drop into the driver’s seat, and slam it shut, letting your body sink into the cool leather. A hand runs over your face, rubbing away the tension, but it’s futile—every muscle hums with unresolved stress.

Always stressed. That’s your perpetual state. Nothing—not meditation, not the strongest caffeine jolt—seems to dull the edge. You need something real, but since that isn’t an option, you opt for the only relief within reach.

You sit up, retrieving the travel-sized vibrator stashed in your back pocket. Your eyes dart around, ensuring the parking lot is deserted. Once satisfied, you unbutton your dress pants, pushing them down just far enough to slip the device against your throbbing clit. The buzz sends immediate relief coursing through you, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

Your breath quickens; your core tightens. You're so close—on the brink—when the passenger seat suddenly dips. The car shifts as someone slams the door shut.

“I knew you were a slut,” Javier’s voice drawls, dripping with amusement.

You gasp, fumbling to switch off the vibrator, but his hand catches your wrist, halting you mid-motion. You glance up, startled, meeting his dark, mischievous gaze.

“Finish,” he commands, his voice firm, laced with dominance. “I can wait.”

Your lips part, a protest forming, but it dies in your throat as his free hand grips your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. His voice drops lower, “I said finish.”

A shiver races down your spine as goosebumps erupt across your skin. He releases your wrist and chin, giving you control again—or so it seems.

Your hand trembles as you reposition the vibrator, pressing it against your clit once more. The vibrations hit, and your head falls back against the seat, eyes fluttering closed. Javier watches intently, lighting a cigarette as though savoring a fine performance.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “Such a good girl. So pretty.”

The buildup to your orgasm is overwhelming, every nerve in your body attuned to Javier's command. You grab his arm, your nails sinking into his skin as a moan tears from your lips—raw, unrestrained, louder than you’ve allowed yourself in so long. His large, tan hand covers your mouth instantly.

“Shhh, baby, you gotta keep it down,” he murmurs, his voice husky and low. He waits until your breathing steadies before easing his hand away, but then he stops everything. The vibrator’s buzz fades as he pulls it away, leaving you teetering painfully on the edge.

Your body jolts when his fingers slide inside you without warning replacing the vibrations. A gasp escapes your lips, your back arching as pleasure spikes through you. His fingers thrust deeper, faster, each stroke precise and maddeningly effective. The rhythm he sets sends waves of pleasure crashing over you, pulling you closer to release. You feel yourself tightening around him, every movement driving you closer and closer. And then, just as you’re about to unravel completely, he stops.

His fingers leave you empty, aching, desperate. Before you can even protest, he brings them to his mouth, his tongue sweeping over his fingers to taste you. His eyes gleam with satisfaction as he licks them clean, savoring every second of your helpless frustration.

He glances at his watch, the smirk on his lips cutting through your haze. "Oh, look at that—lunch is over. Better get back in there, agent."

Without another word, he opens the car door and steps out, leaving you breathless, trembling, and yearning for more as he strides away like nothing just happened.

The next morning, you arrive at the office earlier than usual, your frustration still simmering from how Peña left you high and dry the day before. Scanning his office from your desk, you note it’s still empty. You settle at your computer, trying to focus on work, but the irritation gnaws at you.

When he finally walks into his office, you pause, considering if confronting him is really a good idea. Then you remember the way he left you wanting yesterday, and resolve steels your spine.

Once you’re sure he’s alone, you stride to his office, closing the door firmly behind you and locking it with a deliberate click. The sound makes him glance up from the papers he’s working on. His eyebrows lift in mild surprise as he sees you. “Can I help you, agent?”

You don’t respond immediately. Instead, you walk up to his desk, fixing him with a stern glare. One hand presses against the clutter of paperwork, steadying you, while the other gestures for him to come closer.

He hesitates but complies, leaning forward just enough for you to grab his tie. You yank him toward you, bringing his face mere inches from yours. In a low, dangerous whisper, you let your irritation bleed through:

“If you ever fucking edge me like that again, I’ll report you for breaking into my vehicle, Agent Peña. Maybe this time, you’ll do better.”

Releasing him, you step back, smoothing your expression to one of cold indifference. Without another word, you place a small black box on his desk, turn on your heel, and leave his office. You return to your desk, seamlessly slipping back into your work as though nothing just happened.

Inside his office, Javier sits back in his chair, adjusting his shirt with an unreadable expression. His gaze lingers on the box you left behind. He picks it up and flips it open, revealing a small, pink, oval-shaped controller with simple directional commands: up, down, left, and right.

At first, he frowns, puzzled. Then he notices the folded piece of white paper tucked inside. Opening it, his eyes scan the words written in your unmistakable handwriting:

This controls the vibrator currently in my pussy. Edge me to your heart’s content, but if you don’t finish me by the end of the day, I’m reporting you for touching my ass in the conference room.

Javier smirks as he places the box and note in his desk drawer, slipping the controller into the right pocket of his DEA jacket. He doesn’t turn it on yet—he’s waiting. This little game the two of you are playing amuses him, and he knows there’s another meeting scheduled today. All he has to do is bide his time.

When everyone gathers in the conference room and takes their seats, the meeting begins. It’s not remotely important—just some pointless presentation from personnel management. Javi positions himself near the back of the room, leaning casually by the coffee pot. You, on the other hand, are seated near the front, far from him.

You try to focus, your pen tapping lightly on the notepad in front of you, but it’s impossible. This is, without a doubt, the most useless meeting you’ve ever attended. Your gaze wanders across the room, scanning faces aimlessly until your eyes land on Javi’s.

He’s already looking at you, his dark eyes filled with mischief. A smirk tugs at his lips, and he winks before raising his brows suggestively. His hand dips into his pocket, and he nods slightly, drawing your attention to the movement.

It takes you a second to piece it together, but when you do, your eyes widen in realization. He’s going to use the controller—here, in the middle of a meeting, surrounded by nearly every colleague you have.

Your heart races as you shoot him a sharp look, pursing your lips in a silent plea. You shake your head subtly, trying to convey, No, what the hell are you thinking?

But before you can finish the thought, your body betrays you. A sudden, uncontrollable jolt runs through you as the vibrations hit, intense and overwhelming. You grip the arms of the black leather chair, your lips parting in a silent gasp as the sensation floods through you, heat pooling low in your stomach.

Javi’s smirk deepens from across the room, his gaze fixed on you as if daring you to keep your composure.

That fucking bastard. That fucking beautiful bastard.

Your gaze locks with his, and he lifts a single finger to his lips, signaling for you to stay silent with a teasing "shhh." Your breath hitches as you try to compose yourself, the relentless vibrations from the hidden toy driving you to the brink. Closing your eyes for a moment, you fight to keep your expression neutral, but your lips part involuntarily as your climax builds.

You’re soaked, your underwear and the chair beneath you bearing the evidence of your struggle. The need to release is overwhelming, the sensation climbing higher and higher. Suddenly, a gasp escapes you, your hands gripping the arms of the chair to ground yourself. The sound draws the attention of everyone in the room, and every pair of eyes turns your way.

“Agent, are you okay? Something you’d like to share?” the coordinator asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Maybe you’re coming down with something,” Javi adds, his voice laced with false concern. His lips twitch as he fights back a smirk, his hand slipping subtly into his pocket. He presses the controller, ramping up the intensity.

The sudden surge of vibrations makes you jump in your leather chair, your whole body jolting with adrenaline. “No, I—I’m fine,” you stammer, voice shaky as you desperately try to suppress a moan. “Just… tired. S-sorry.”

The coordinator studies you for a moment, then nods. “Alright. If everyone’s ready, let’s continue.” The room finally shifts its focus back to the presentation.

Your chest heaves as you dig your nails into the chair’s arms, eyes squeezed shut. The vibrations grow impossibly stronger, and you know Javi is enjoying this far too much. He sits there like he owns the room, his posture relaxed, his expression smug. The sight of him only fuels your frustration.

Just as the peak feels inevitable, the vibrations stop.

The silence in your body is deafening, leaving you reeling from the sudden absence. You whip your head toward him, your glare is full of unspoken threats. He meets your gaze, shrugs casually, and smirks—that infuriating, half-cocked smirk that makes you want to both slap him and kiss him senseless.

He’s winning this game, and you hate how much you love it.

The meeting finally wraps up, and you return to your desk, finding it just as empty and uninspiring as before. You try to focus on your laptop screen, willing yourself to concentrate, but it’s a losing battle. All you can think about is Javier—and how badly you want him to touch you, to finish you.

Without a second thought, you stand and head straight for his office. The urgency in your steps gives you no time for decorum; you push the door open without knocking and slam it shut behind you.

Javier looks up, one brow arching in surprise. “What’s wrong?”

You plant your hands on your hips, frustration seeping through your voice. “You did it again.”

His lips curl into a slow, knowing smile. “Did what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Peña.” You extend one hand toward him, the other still fixed on your hip. “Give me back the controller. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t fucking concentrate.”

“Oh, this?” he asks, holding up the remote. His smirk deepens as he flicks the device back on. The sudden vibration against your core sends a jolt through you, and your hands dart out to brace yourself against his desk.

“So, you really want me to stop?” he drawls, standing from his chair with deliberate slowness. “Or maybe you’d rather I give you the real thing? You tell me, sweetheart—what do you want?”

His voice is low and teasing as he approaches, his towering frame closing the distance between you. He places his hands on the desk, as you turn around to follow his movements, caging you in. You try to hold his gaze, but the intensity is too much. After a few seconds, your eyes flutter shut.

“Please…” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“Please what?” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear as he brushes a stray strand of hair from your face.

Your resolve shatters as his lips hover close to yours. “Stop…” you manage to mumble weakly, even as your arms reach up, wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.

Javier’s hands grip you, firm and possessive, as his mouth captures yours in a heated kiss. The vibrator’s hum fades into the background as his tongue slips past your lips, exploring you with unrestrained hunger. Your thoughts dissolve, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of his touch and the euphoria of his kiss.

When he finally pulls away, he gives you a smirk so devastating it leaves you breathless. His hand trails on your thighs, teasing at the hem of your skirt.

“Javi,” you plead.

Instead of replying, his fingers slip beneath your panties, pushing the fabric aside. He pulls the still-buzzing vibrator from you with a deliberate slowness, your slickness coating his fingers. Tossing it carelessly onto some paperwork, he lifts you onto the edge of the desk. His dark eyes meet yours, filled with a hunger that makes your pulse race.

With practised ease, he pushes your skirt up to your hips and hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties, sliding them down and tossing them aside. The cool air against your bare skin sends a shiver through you.

Before you can truly process what’s happening, Javier helps you down and spins you around, pressing your chest down against the desk. His firm grip pins your wrists behind your back. The sensation makes you moan.

“You just can’t keep that pretty little mouth shut, can you?” he taunts, his voice dripping with mockery. Reaching around, he stuffs your damp panties into your mouth, silencing any reply.

The metallic clink of his belt buckle hitting the floor echoes in the room, followed by the low rasp of his zipper. Your heart pounds as you feel his hands gripping your hips, pulling you back toward him.

Javier leans down, his breath hot against your ear. “Think you can be quiet now? Or do I need to remind you how to behave, mi niña buena?”

His question hangs in the air as your muffled whimper escapes through the gag. Behind you, his cock presses against you, and the anticipation coils tightly in your stomach, ready to snap.

You nod eagerly as the wet fabric is pulled from your mouth. He grabs your arm, helping you up, then points to the ground. “On your knees.”

You obey without hesitation, sinking down as he steps closer. His cock is in your mouth again in an instant, stretching your lips as he thrusts forward, letting out a deep grunt like he hasn’t had release in weeks—whether it’s a pussy, a mouth, or even his own hand. His grip tightens in your hair, holding you steady as he pushes deeper into your throat.

“So pretty when you’re sucking cock, tan hermosa” he rasps, his voice rough and dripping with lust.

The initial sting fades as you adjust to his size, letting him slide deeper with every thrust. His cock twitches in your throat before he suddenly pulls out, leaving you gasping on the floor. You look up at him, wide-eyed and eager, your lips glistening as you catch your breath.

He wastes no time pulling you to your feet, turning you and bending you over the desk. His hands slide down your body, one stopping between your thighs to rub your clit in slow, teasing circles. The sudden stimulation sends shocks through your body, making you shudder.

“Fuck! Please!” you beg, your voice cracking under the tension.

He doesn’t answer, instead slipping your underwear back into your mouth to muffle your cries. “No estàs siendo una niña buena, tienes que estar callada, bebé,” he murmurs, his tone dark but calm.

Without warning, he slams into you, stretching you wide as his cock fills you completely. The muffled sound you make is a mix of pain and pleasure, your body clenching around him as you struggle to adjust to his size. His hips drive forward relentlessly, each thrust pressing deeper until the ache melts into pure bliss.

Your fingers grip the edge of the desk as waves of pleasure roll through you. His cock feels impossibly thick inside you, and every stroke makes your legs tremble beneath his weight. He notices, leaning down close to your ear.

“Come on, baby.” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “I know how badly you want to cum all over my cock.”

His words push you over the edge. Your body spasms as your orgasm hits, goosebumps prickling along your skin. A muffled moan escapes you as you tighten around him, trembling uncontrollably as the intensity consumes you.

He doesn’t stop. His thrusts grow harder and faster, driving deep into you as his own climax builds. The desk creaks under the force, and your body feels like it might give out, soaked in your own release. His growls turn guttural, animalistic, as his cock twitches violently inside you.

With one final thrust, he spills into you, hot and thick, his grip bruising as he holds you close. His hips slow, his body shuddering as he rides out his release, his breath ragged against your neck.

After a moment, he drops your arms, letting them fall limply to your sides. You slide down to your knees, your back leaning against the desk as you pant, trying to steady yourself.

He crouches in front of you, his hand cupping your face. Tilting your chin up, he makes you meet his gaze, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch,” he says, his voice low and teasing.

He presses a chaste kiss to your cheek before standing, adjusting his clothes as if nothing happened. Without another word, he strides out of the office, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving you breathless and spent on the floor.

[mead-iocre]

˚　.˚　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　. ੈ

brat!reader is planning to wear this shirt to one of alexia's games. she paired it with her favourite black balloon mini skirt, coperni aged leather brown knee high boots, and her favourite vintage denim coach bag.

she double checked her bag, making sure all her essentials were in there-- sunglasses, gum, phone, and vape. check check check and check.

she was just about to walk out the door when all of a sudden she is yanked by the arm by none other than her girlfriend. alexia's eyes widen when she reads the text on her shirt.

"bebé, you cannot wear that"

an eyebrow raise. sometimes she underestimated how good alexia’s english is getting. damn. brat!reader was really hoping she could get away with it. "what do you mean I can-not wear this?"

"I mean-- people-fans might see you or the cameras might catch you--and people might think--"

"might think what? that all we do is hold hands and touch foreheads?"

alexia sighs audible, her hand instinctively coming up to massage her temple. her blood pressure is rising and the match hasn't even started yet. she starts mumbling a prayer in her mother tongue. the last thing she needs right now is a migraine before a home match against a tough opponent.

"estoy hablando en serio. just change the shirt and we can go"

brat!reader stomps one boot-covered leg down against the wooden floor, frustrated that she's being asked to change when her outfit looks so good. alexia willed herself to not pick a fight, not when she's got a match to focus.

"Vale. fine. puta madre. just wear this over it." Alexia shrugs off her own sweatshirt that she had on, hastily throwing it at her girlfriend before rushing to find something else to wear.

brat!reader could hear her cursing up a storm, muttering in broken spanish under her breath. she complies anyway because the sweatshirt is kinda cute, plus it smells like sandalwood, violet and old leather that lingers from alexia's signature perfume. she wears alexia’s sweatshirt, snapping a few pics with her new fit to post on instagram later.

she can wear the t-shirt some other time.

"ready to go, baby?" is what greets alexia when she finally manages to find another top to throw on that would suit the rest of her fit. her nicely styled hair a few minutes ago was now in slight disarray from the amount of shirts she tried on and then yanked back off. her face is stoic, eyes dark.

"cierren la boca. keep your mouth shut or else i will leave you on the side of the road." is all alexia says before she ends it with a pinch to brat!reader's ass beneath her billowy mini skirt. "do not piss me off. I mean it."

since the match will be played at home, players are free to drive to the stadium with their own cars. when they arrive at the stadium they have to split up— brat!reader to the suits and alexia with the team (obviously). by some miracle, brat!reader had somehow managed to leave alexia alone for the entire drive, far too focused on her phone, replying to instagram comments and messages. alexia was finally able to clear her mind for a short while.

“I’ll see you after” all low and monotone. alexia grabs her Louis Vuitton toiletry bag and locks the car behind her.

“still mad at me?”

“hm.” yeah. she's still mad.

“ok…kiss?”

alexia rolls her eyes and huffs, as if she just got asked to do the most tedious chore. she reaches for her jaw, cupping it with one hand, squeezing her cheeks and forcing brat!readers lips into a pout. she presses a rough kiss onto her lips before pulling away to mutter. “me estas enfadando. you get on my nerves, ya’know that?”

brat!reader just grins at her. oh how she loves to annoy her lover. she sneaks one more quick kiss and bounces away yelling “i love you too. have a good game, la reina!” behind her shoulder, waving at alexia as she walks towards the entrance to the suits. she knows alexia absolutely detests that nickname. she can picture alexia cursing her out in her head, probably saying the most obscene spanish insults she won't even be able to translate to english.

hopefully alexia channels that frustration for her into the game later on and scores a few goals. afterall, alexia plays her best games when she's angry x

˚　.˚　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　. 　

saw the shirt and had to write the quickest blurb ever. must cope the shirt one day x

[artofchoisan]

A BODYGUARD'S PUNISHMENT

Cold!Bodyguard!Seonghwa x Heartbroken!Brat!University!Reader

The Plot: Being heartbroken was a norm for your life especially with your own parents not caring about you and just giving you money to keep you quiet. No matter how much chaos you caused or the one time you almost got yourself killed to which they didn't want their status to be ruined they just assigned you a bodyguard with whom you’ve had a past that only you and him knew of.

TW: Rough Sex.

Words: 2.3k

► ATEEZ MASTERLIST

Causing chaos all around you, drinking until only alcohol flew into your veins, wrecking havoc by organizing parties and sleeping around and not to forget stealing cars and smoking weed, you’ve done everything, yet none seem to care.

Your own parent couldn't give one single fuck about you, never a caring words nor a caring touch, they only threw money at you and wave their hands off and just assigning you a bodyguard so as you don't get yourself killed which they only did mainly for their own name to not get soiled.

Yet, you gave your own bodyguard so many shit to deal with, the countless time you’ve been a brat to him by running off away from him, getting on his nerves and always getting wine onto his suit as you grinned, you didn't hate Park Seonghwa, he was just doing his job but anything associated with your parents you hated, and this man was just another toy in their hands.

So there you were, into another one of your escape, lying into a bathroom floor with a bottle of vodka into your hands as you stared up, what the fuck was your own life? You couldn't even escape this life and just hope that once uni was done you could get out of this fucked up home and lead a life of your own.

“Here you are.” An exasperated sigh reached your ears, as you only look up to find your bodyguard rushing to your side and forcing you up, “Could you stop running out of my sight at least once.”

“No! Fuck off!” Forcingly removing your hand off his hold as you almost tumble down before he catches you again, “Give me a break will you.”

“It’s an order, we’re going.” His voice is tight and cold, not wanting to put up with any of your bullshit, you’ve been getting on his nerves for nearly a year, it’s a miracle he held up for so long, “It’s my job.”

As you struggled against Seonghwa you knew it was of no use, as he was two heads taller than you and much stronger, “I’m not going anywhere.” With that he still managed to drag you outside the bathroom, out of the club and managed to open the door of the car and threw you inside, “Behave now.” Voice lathered in a warning as he glared at you before getting into the driver’s seat and putting on the child’s lock, just to be sure.

“What were you even thinking?” Starting the engine as he drive towards your apartment, your only answer to him was a roll of your eyes, "This disappearing act is getting really damn old," Seonghwa lead on, sharp and deliberate, digging the hurt in your chest deeper, "You need to learn how to grow up before—"

“Shut the fuck up Seonghwa.” Your own voice is colder than ever before.

Then a sob broke through your own voice, your hands over your face as the tears threatened to fall and just like that more anger swirl inside of you, “I know, I’m a fucking mess and fucked up all I do.” Saying more through gritted teeth, “I’m an embarrassment to my own parents and just someone who can't do anything right, just a little pompous bitch who uses her parents money without thinking. I know what everyone thinks and knows what you also think.”

Letting your head lean against the car window, “Just drive me home Park.”

This rendered Seonghw quiet, his eyes glancing at your tired face from time to time, jaw unclenched as for a few seconds he almost felt pity for you, he wasn't blind to the actions or lack of actions of your parents to you.

Once his car reached your apartment’s parking lot, he unlocked your doors and with that you made a dash for the elevators, not wanting to see more of him. Luckily as he locked the car, you managed to catch the elevator and in mere seconds you were gone, leaning against the elevators, you let out a sigh.

Once it reached your floor, you lazily walked towards your door, quickly inserting your keycode and before you could get inside your arms were gripped in an almost deadly one and was thrown inside as you groan, the door slammed shut behind him, “Can you stop acting like a fucking kid? Whining and crying like one.”

Too tired, you only turned your back to him, what have gotten into Seonghwa? Had he finally snapped. And if he did, despite your own tiredness you wanted to test just how riled up you can rile him up.

“I’ll continue to act like a kid as you say.” Saying those words out of your own tongue, as you turned to him, a few meters away as you unzipped your dress right in front of him and despite the few seconds of shock from Seonghwa’s eyes, he said nothing trying to not wanting to let you win.

Your dress dropped down to the floor revealing your black lingerie that hugged your breast well right in front of him, a generous portion of skin all in full view in front of him as you turned before bending down to get your dress.

That’s when you felt it, a deep growl and a strong pair of arms around your waist, “You’re a fucking brat.” A venomous tone into your ear, “You keep getting on my nerves, playing with me.” His hand around your neck, tilting your head up as you felt his breath onto your skin.

“But you didn't leave, you like it just as much but you would never admit that, right Mr Park?” Almost laughing at your own words, “Always handling me and touching me.”

You’ve crossed way too much line in just a few days.

Seonghwa seemed to be releasing all of his pent up anger onto you, feeling his tongue, teeth and lips against your neck, biting and sucking leaving your naked canvas of your neck in a painting of red and purple marks, his tongue licking long stride along your neck, “You need to be taught a lesson brat.”

His fingers traced along your body, his other hand still around your neck as his lips and teeth never leaving the bruising canvas he was creating on your skin, “Going out to get fucked? Huh? Come on princess, you know the dangers of that.” He then pulled hard onto your panties, tearing it up before it slapped against your skin.

The cold air hitting your cunt as you gasped out, “Please Hwa, I want you.” Your hands working behind you as you quickly took off his belt and palm onto his crotch, “Please, please. I’ll be good to you.” This wasn't an unfamiliar situation, fucking with your bodyguard wasn't a new thing.

Seonghwa turned you around, gripping on your shoulders he pushed you on your bed, “Just look at you princess.” His grin turned sinister, “Thinking another man can even fuck you as good as I can. Do you beg for their cock as you do for mine? Do you whine and plead, begging for it as if your life depends on it?”

His anger did all the talking as he looked livid, finally letting his emotions take a hold of him after months of restraining himself, wanting to do his job, only wanting to protect you and burying his own feelings down but jealousy always rear its horns.

“Please Seonghwa, I want you.” Nor you, not being able to deny yourself of him, your feeling blossomed into something more for him, for once, one person truly and sincerely cared, yet his own principles always comes in the way, “Fuck me, I want you to wreck me.”

With that he delved his fingers into you, forcing a gasp, grabbing his arms, digging your nails in as he wrapped one arm around your waist and the other brushed against your clit. "You're soaked, Princess. Only I can make you feel like this, right?" He asked growling slightly as he bit at your ear "Something turning you on?" He asked and you whimpered in response, whining out.

"Hwa, fuck... slow down" You begged as he thrust his fingers in and out, his palm brushing against your clit, his bracelets rubbing against your lower stomach, forcing whines and whimpers from your lips.

"When you mean it, I'll slow down" He grunted out, pressing kisses along the side of your face as you gasped looking down watching his fingers plunge in and out of you, his cock pressing hard against your ass. "Do you want to cum on my fingers, Princess?" He asked softly and you gasped arching your back slightly as he pressed on your lower stomach as his fingers reached deeper inside of you.

"Seonghwa" You cried out, pushing against his arms as your release slammed through you, spasming around his fingers and soft whines leaving your lips as he continued to kiss along your jaw and down your neck. He smirked against your neck and pulled his fingers out.

Without warning he turned you around and forced his cock deep inside you as you cried out in pleasure, “Oh fuck! Yes! More.” His animalistic thrust meets you with so much pleasure, his cock thrusting in and out of you as his mouth comes closer to bite onto your shoulder as his deep grunt drives you even more insane.

Seonghwa was fucking you with no mercy, “Look at you being so desperate for my cock and now taking me in so well, so good, such a good little brat for me.” Chanting his name like a mantra as feeling him so good and so big inside of you and being fucked so dumb made you to lose it as you press yourself more against him chasing your own high, “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“I could just leave you here,” Seonghwa warned yet his hips continue to fuck you even harder than before, his hold on your hips tighter than before, “I could just cum all over your back and leave you just like that, still all wet and horny, but we wouldn't want that, right princess.”

You were so fucked out, the tears in your eyes began dripping down your cheeks, “No please, Hwa. I need you, please don't leave me.”

Seonghwa’s demonic grin crossed his lips, “That’s my good girl, see you can be obedient when you want to.” Still thrusting into you, with no rest “I'm the only one who can make you feel this way. i’m the only person who can fuck you like this. you’re mine. say it, brat.”

“I’m all yours Seonghwa, only yours.”

With that you felt the knot onto your stomach tightened before the both of you came to your orgasm as you cried out in bliss, “Fuck.” Your body landed bonelessly onto the bed as you both were panting out, Seonghwa had removed himself from you as strings of white cum landed onto your back, “That’s my good girl.”

Once both of you had calmed down, Seonghwa helped you to lay more on the bed, his caring nature was what caused you to fall harder then he adjusted your hair and with a tender smile, Seonghwa leaned in and kissed your forehead.

“Love you..” mumbling out those words out of all the emotions into you.

The sweet atmosphere turned cold, Seonghwa froze and you immediately regret it. With a cold expression, he leaned back and stood up, adjusting himself in a robotic manner and his cold expression lying back into him.

“You can't keep doing that Seonghwa, you told it to me yourself before, you can't keep coming back fucking me out of jealousy, touching me and caring for me like that and then acting like that when I say the words you’re too scared to say.”

The secret had been out of the box, a few months ago when alcohol got the best of your system as you drowned into sin, you got quite intimate with your bodyguard who despite your wandering hands all over his body and your pleading eyes and whines, you’ve shared a night you’d never forget.

As the next morning had reached you, your secret was already out of bed and dressed sitting in the living room with eyes darting forward, thinking of a mistake he’d made but as the days went by, the man broke the first rule of being a bodyguard and it almost cost you your life one day, as he got distracted and it almost cost you your life.

After that encounter with death, you’ve found some warmth into the arms of your bodyguard whom this time had the both of you sober and this time he allowed temptation to take hold of his soul, gripping onto the chains of his own restraint, he ripped it out and took your mouth in his as you allowed sin and lust to consumed the both of you in a horrid night of sex.

“You know I can't, my job is to protect you. I can't fail, I can't let you get almost killed.”

Every time, after he allowed temptation to get the best of him, he would grow cold and distant and would only worry about your safety while his icy demeanor brought you some hurt that only caused for you to cry as you’d allow the pain to make you cry as you’ve had confessed to him to which he could only shake his head not wanting to break any more of his own rules.

“Seonghwa.” You sigh, face pinched into a hurt expression, “Listen to me, I love you, I’m not scared to admit that, you’re not careless, you protect me so please, let’s give this a chance, until I finish university, please.”

For a while, he was quiet and then he walked to you and dragged you into his arms, “I’ll trust you. I’ll protect you. For once I’ll be selfish, I won’t let you go so please bear with me for a while.” Then a smile appeared on his lips, “I love you too my little brat, I don't think I can live without you.”

“Neither can I, Mr Bodyguard.”

[roosterforme]

Mr. Right Now Part 2 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: As soon as you decide that Jake is the one you want for your first time, he's very clear that you'll be playing by his rules. You're ready to get this over with and get on with your life, but he's determined to make you admit that you're allowed to feel good. And maybe you want to enjoy this with him.

Warnings: adult language, mentions of sex and virginity, sexual touching, 18+

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

"Jake," you whispered as his soft hair glided through your fingers. You liked his name. He was handsome. He was older. His lips tasted delicious. He had green eyes.

Why had you been so focused on Rooster? Oh, right. Because your roommate, Kylie, said he was good after she slept with him. She told you all about the Navy bar and the different guys with call signs, and you made it a point to remember that Rooster was the one who she said was the gentlest. 

You froze. Jake had his hands around your waist, his hips pressing his semi hard length against you. Those pretty green eyes were locked onto yours, and you knew it would be a long shot to get him to agree, even now. But something else was bothering you about this whole scenario. You suddenly wondered if Kylie and Jake ever had sex.

For some reason, that idea alone was enough to piss you off. Going blindly after Rooster would have been no big deal, but Jake seemed to actually give a shit about you. He just took the time to make sure you were really twenty, and he kept questioning you as to why you were here in the first place. In this bar where you apparently stuck out like a sore thumb.

But you wanted Jake specifically for your first time, whether he had already fucked Kylie or not. You leaned in and kissed him again, and he seemed more than willing now. You hoped your little skirt and tight shirt weren't going to fail you after you made it this far. He just needed to take care of this one, basic thing for you, and you'd be on your way. Then you could go out with Cooper who you were actually so ready to date, and you wouldn't completely embarrass yourself with him.

You let yourself touch Jake's hair again as you asked, "What's your call sign?"

His hand felt huge against your butt, and you went willingly when he pulled you even closer. "Hangman," he said in that cute Texan drawl. That didn't sound familiar at all, and Kylie was pretty proud of all the call signs she'd managed to collect. Maybe she hadn't gotten to him yet. Or maybe she wasn't his type. That thought alone made you smile even more as he continued to touch you.

"Okay, Hangman," you whispered against his mouth in the middle of this crowded bar. "I'm ready for you to take me to your place."

He kissed you gently and shook his head. "Let's go out to my truck, and I'll drive you back to your apartment or dorm."

God, he was such a good kisser, but he was really grating on your nerves at this point. You were a little nervous that he would keep saying no and then ruin your chances with Rooster or one of the other guys in attendance tonight, even though they would be clear backup options now. You whined in annoyance. "Come on, Jake."

"No. I'm not taking you home with me," he replied firmly. 

You stomped your foot; you really wanted to lose your damn virginity, and you couldn't give it away. "You don't even have to take me back to your place. We can fuck in the parking lot."

"Jesus Christ, Darlin'. That's not happening either," he said, looking scandalized. "Definitely not for your first time. And a leather mini skirt is an impractical outfit to get fucked in anyway."

You tipped your head back and groaned. "Well how was I supposed to know that?" Then you looked at his handsome face, pretty much ready to call it a night and try again tomorrow at a different bar. "I'm doing everything wrong."

He had the nerve to laugh at you again. "No. You're really not. The skirt is just going to make guys want to work harder for it. And honestly, somehow the sneakers are doing something for me?"

A small glimmer of hope flashed inside you as you ran your fingers along his stubbled cheek. "Yeah?"

"God. Damn. It." He was practically growling now as he started to haul you toward the exit. "If we're doing this, then we're doing it right."

"Okay!" you replied immediately, not really sure what you were agreeing to as he led you outside to the dark deck, letting the door close behind the two of you. The loud interior of the bar was a thing of the past now as he took your chin between his thumb and fingers and kissed you a little rough with the ocean as the new soundtrack. 

You almost dropped your purse as you tried to wrap your arms around his neck, already wanting more of him. "If you really want to do this," he said between kisses, "then you're playing by my rules." You were practically whimpering as his lips found the side of your neck, because why did his words sound so sexy?

"Absolutely," you whispered. "Jake's rules."

He half carried you out to the dimly lit parking lot as he muttered, "This is a terrible idea." He squinted at your face and added, "You seem like the type who never learns her lesson."

"I resent that," you said, running your lips along his ear even as your feet left the ground. "I have a 4.0 GPA. I always learn my lessons."

He grunted as he helped you into what you assumed was his truck before standing outside the door with his hands on his hips. "Like I said, you're a real smartass. Now listen up. I'm going to be as gentlemanly as I possibly can during this whole thing."

"Whole thing?" you asked, wondering what he could possibly mean. He just needed to get completely hard, shove his cock in you for a little while, and then call it a night.

"Yeah," he grunted, his green eyes a little wild in the glow from the truck's dome lights. "I'm going to make sure you come. I'm going to be as sweet as I can be. But you need to be clear if you're not having a good time, or if you want me to stop. If you can't abide by those basic ground rules, we're absolutely done here."

Oh. He was really taking this seriously. You chewed on your lip, and his face became more apprehensive. But you weren't debating with yourself whether or not his ground rules would work for you. You were actually trying to figure out why he was already being better than anything you anticipated tonight. Anticipated ever.

"Oh, my god," you gasped. "Are you married?"

"What the fuck kind of question is that?" he shouted, looking angry now. "Of course I'm not married!"

You reached out to him and grabbed his hand. "Sorry! It's just that you're sweet, and you seem to be taking this really seriously! I was just checking!"

Jake scowled, and his tone was one akin to hurt. "I'm not letting you make yourself believe that all you deserve for your first time is a careless fuck in a bar bathroom or a parking lot, and I'm certainly not letting one of those drunk assholes maul you apart!"

The more you thought about it, you really didn't want to be manhandled or have to pull your skirt up in a bathroom stall to make the best of things tonight. You squeezed his hand which you were still holding as you softly said, "Thank you."

He ran his free fingers through his soft hair and muttered something that sounded like, "Yeah, don't thank me yet." Then he kissed your lips and said, "Buckle your seatbelt," before he let go of your hand and closed the door. 

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

You were pretty quiet on the drive back to Jake's place, but you didn't seem as nervous now. If anything, he thought his nerves were ramping up while yours were calming down. He couldn't remember how many condoms he had left in his bedside drawer, and when he tried to estimate how many he might use tonight, he almost missed his turn. Was he really going to do this?

"You live by the beach," you remarked, playing with the hem of your tiny skirt while you looked out the window.

"I do," he replied, mentally cancelling his morning run if you were going to stay over. The implications of letting you spend the night were creeping up on him, but kicking you out was absolutely not going to be an option. You likely had the entirety of the rest of your life to be disappointed by men, but he wasn't going to set that precedent. 

"How old did you say you were?"

Jake felt a little dirty now when he said, "I didn't. But I'm thirty." He tapped the brakes when he was about a block from his house. His truck already smelled sweet like your perfume or shampoo, and he glanced at you when he turned onto his street. "Let me take you back to your place."

You laughed softly as you leaned a little closer to him. "Negative, Hangman. I have a twin bed and a nosy roommate. I think we're better off doing this at yours."

"Come on, Darlin'. That's not what I meant, and you know it."

He coasted up to the stop sign on the quiet side street; he could see his little, white cottage on the next block, but he turned to look at your face in profile as you crossed your arms over your chest. You were looking straight ahead, chin proudly held high as you said, "If you really don't want to have sex with me, then turn right and head back toward Pomona Avenue."

It wasn't that he didn't want to. You were all pouty lips and feminine curves and perky tits, and yeah... he did want to fuck you. And he wanted to make it so good, you'd ask for more. He wanted to take his time and pull that first orgasm from you while he gave it to you exactly how you needed it. When he didn't turn his truck back toward Pomona, you looked at him and whispered, "It's okay if you're not into it, Jake. You can take me home. You don't have to worry about me."

He made a noise at the back of his throat and licked his lips. "That's not it." He wanted to say more, but for now, he answered your concerns by moving his foot to the accelerator and driving straight through the intersection. You visibly relaxed in the seat next to him, and a few seconds later, he was pulling his truck up to his house. You were looking out the window toward his cottage, and when you reached for the door handle, he let his hand rest on your bare knee. You turned his way immediately, and he said, "You never agreed to play by my rules."

"I agree."

He shook his head. "Then tell me what my ground rules were."

You bit your bottom lip, and he could feel you squeeze your legs together as you whispered, "You said you'd make sure I come. And that you would be sweet. And that if I tell you I'm not having a good time, you'll stop." Jake let his hand slide a few inches higher, and you responded by easing your legs apart and telling him, "I agree with the ground rules."

Jake nodded once and said, "Looks like I'm stuck with you now."

You kissed him. Somehow you caught him off guard every time you did it. You were tentative and inquisitive, and when you moved closer, his hand eased up your thigh. "You're stuck with me," you murmured between kisses. "For probably at least a half an hour." Jake started laughing, and you pulled away slightly. "What's funny?"

"Darlin', you're playing by my rules. You want me to teach you about sex? Half an hour isn't even going to be enough to get you warmed up."

You looked surprised as you reached up to run your fingers through his hair. "Teach me about sex? I thought you were just going to fuck me and call it a night."

Jake moaned. "Definitely not. Now let's get started."

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

You found yourself in Jake's living room, eyes darting around, trying to figure out what to focus on first. He was an actual adult with award commendations from the Navy and a massive TV. You felt small in his space, and some of your bravado melted away as he chuckled and said, "I'd offer you a drink, but, you know."

You tapped the toe of your sneaker against the hardwood floor and said, "According to my ID, I'm the same age as you. I like white wine, thanks."

He was trying not to laugh as he walked into his kitchen, and you followed along behind him, watching as he reached for a wine glass and filled it with ice water. "Enjoy your chardonnay, Darlin'," he drawled, and now you were also trying not to laugh.

"Thanks," you whispered before taking a sip. You tried to set your purse on the counter, but the clasp caught the edge, and both of your IDs came sliding out along with a strip of three condoms. When Jake met your eyes you said, "I made sure I was prepared before I left my place. I'm young, not stupid."

"But the Hard Deck?" he asked, closing the distance between your bodies. "Not your smartest move, parading around in there with a fake and some condoms. The guys that hang out there wouldn't know their ass from a hole in the ground when it comes to making sure a woman enjoys herself."

"You hang out there," you told him with a little eye roll, and his fingers came up under your chin. He tilted your face up until you were staring into his pretty green eyes, and your core clenched with need.

"I don't make promises I can't keep," he told you, and you absolutely believed him. "Now, you said you're a virgin, but why don't you go ahead and tell me how experienced you are."

You swallowed hard, chin still held in place by those rough fingers. "Is that really necessary? I'm ready to go, Jake." You set your glass of water on the counter next to the condoms and reached out to touch his solid abs through his shirt.

"There's a little more to it than that," he told you, stroking your jaw with his thumb. "Let's talk and get to know each other a bit."

The last thing you wanted him to know about was your complete lack of experience with guys. "We don't have to do that." 

"Yeah, well I want to," he told you, finally releasing your chin.

"You're very old fashioned," you said with a smirk, and your hands settled on his belt.

"I'm a lot older than you, smartass. Humor me." Instead of responding with anything about yourself, you held eye contact with him while you yanked the end of his belt free from the belt loops and started to unbuckle it. A smile danced along his lips, and he said, "Fine. I'll start. I'm a Lieutenant in the Navy. I grew up in Texas, but I've lived all over the country. My favorite food is chili. I love running on the beach in the morning before it gets too hot out. I have four sisters. And I'm a Scorpio."

You had the button of his jeans undone, and you were easing his zipper down as you said, "You do seem like a Scorpio, Lieutenant Jake." His green eyes were still on yours as you officially went further than you ever had with a guy by letting your fingers run along his impressive length through his underwear. He licked his lips as you reached the tip and then dipped your hand inside his snug boxer briefs. He was warm and velvety soft while also getting harder by the second, and you gasped at the look in his eyes. "Does this feel good?" you asked softly as his pupils widened.

He nodded once, and his voice sounded raspier as he told you, "Yes."

"Good," you mused out loud, unable to contain your smirk as Jake grunted softly. "If you like it, then the guy from my physics class who I want to go out with will probably like it, too."

Suddenly, Jake's hand was on your wrist in an iron-tight grasp, preventing you from stroking him. "What?" you gasped, his hand tightening incrementally as something dangerous flashed in his eyes.

"Lesson number one. When you're with a guy, and you have your hand wrapped around his cock, you shouldn't be talking about a different guy."

You pouted up at him and said, "I already told you earlier that part of the reason I wanted to lose my virginity was so it would feel good when I get with Cooper."

"And I'm telling you right now that you're done talking about him," he grunted. "Got it?"

A chill of delight ran up your spine as you whispered, "Yes. Understood."

His grasp on your wrist released immediately, and he leaned in, kissing you softly one time. "That's just a surefire way to get a guy jealous," he informed you, and another little chill ran through your body as you considered that maybe you just made him a little jealous. 

When you ran your hand along his length again, his lips were back on yours immediately, and he moved you so your leather covered butt was pressed against the edge of his countertop. Then he took your hips in both of his big hands, and you whimpered into his mouth. He teased you, pulling away slightly just so you'd chase him for more. He was throbbing against your palm as your other hand found his hair once again. 

He was sexy. Even the rough stubble on his face felt delicious as it rubbed your chin and cheeks. Then, just as his lips started to migrate along your jaw, he carefully reached for your wrist again, withdrawing your hand from his jeans. "Yes, it feels good, but this isn't about me, Darlin'."

When his lips skimmed down your neck before settling on your pulse point, you whimpered his name. Then he sucked gently on you there while he toyed with the zipper at the side of your mini skirt. He was big and strong, and he smelled good, and as he worked your zipper down, inch by painstaking inch, you shifted so you were rubbing against him.

As soon as his fingers dipped inside the elastic of your underwear, it felt like you were clenching around nothing. Usually you had to use your fingers for a while to get that kind of result, but he hadn't even touched you there yet. Then you realized you were wet. Really wet from his lips and his touch. Your thong felt damp against your skin as your skirt started to slide down your hips, and your voice was a little too loud as you gasped and said, "Okay, I'm ready. I'm definitely ready. Let's do it. Where's your bedroom?"

Jake's lips released your neck. He brought his mouth up to your ear and told you, "Absolutely not. Not yet."

Your skirt slipped a few more inches as Jake ran his nose along the shell of your ear. "God. Do you need me to ask nicely or something? Please?"

"You're playing by my rules. Did you forget? We're not rushing through this." Your skirt dropped to the floor at your feet as Jake pulled away and looked at your face. "Unless you're not having a good time, Darlin'. Say the words, and I'll stop."

You had no control of your body as your head tipped back, a low moan escaping as you said, "I don't want you to stop." You panted as you rubbed your wet panties against the open fly of his jeans. "It feels so good. But I want more."

Jake's hand found the back of your head, tilting it forward until you were looking at him again. "What do you want me to do to you?" he asked as one of his calloused fingers played with the lace trim along the top of your underwear.

"I want you to fuck me," you whispered with a moan, nodding your head as he smirked at you. 

"Really, pretty girl? You sure that's it? Because it sounds more like you want me to make you feel good." His fingers stroked up to your belly button and back down again as you bucked against him. "I think you know by this point in our conversation that you're allowed to enjoy this. And I can tell that's what you really want." 

"What could possibly feel better than getting fucked?" you asked in desperation. "I want you to fuck me!"

"No, you don't," he whispered, voice harsh and needy. He kissed you hard on the mouth two times before adding, "You want me to make you feel better than you've ever felt before. You want me to touch you with more skill than you can touch yourself. And none of that has to do with me fucking you. Tell me I'm wrong."

You bit down on your lip as his hand reached around to your butt, and suddenly you knew for sure it wouldn't have been like this with Rooster or any of the other guys at the bar. They would have fucked you and unloaded into one of the three condoms by now. Maybe you wouldn't have even gotten wet for them. You'd probably be back at your place in bed, planning on seeing Cooper on Monday morning with a new outlook on life. But it wouldn't have been like this.

Jake wanted more than that for your first time, and now you were starting to see that you could have more as his rough fingers kneaded into you. If you were already about to come just from rubbing yourself on him, then playing by his rules and letting him take his time was sounding better by the second.

You took a deep breath, let your lips brush against his and told him, "I want you to make me feel good."

"That's more like it, Darlin'," he crooned. "I'll take care of you."

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

Jake is about to show you that he's a man of his word. He keeps his promises, and he's already made some to you. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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[skyrigel]

Victory indeed || A.B

Pairing: Anthony bridgerton x wife!reader

Plot : You are on your way to steal the mallet of death but Anthony gets there first, change in plans— romancing lord Viscount.

Warning: NSFW content ahead!

Rigel's note🪩 : This is inspired from happily ever after, there's quite blood shed for mallet of death. Yeah Colin is love <3

The last bits of doubt left as you shifted Anthony's arm off your waist, slowly pushing your body down and further till you were out from his grip, he almost looked innocent, sleeping and bed soft, his mouth curled in a dream like smile but you knew better than that. last time Anthony, like lord Viscount he was, stole the pallet from your wardrobe.

And the year prior, Daphne showed her Bridgerton colors, involving the Duke himself in her malice plans.

You couldn't help but smile, thinking your bridgerton were showing up too, the floor was frozen underneath your step but you thought about the victory tommorow, the look on Anthony's face would be priceless, wrapping your cloak around yourself and closing the door soundlessly as you ventured out in the corridor, the moon was high and the air was chill. If inside the Aubrey hall was cold then you weren't up for the chill outside, a shiver ran down your spine as you stepped out in the moonlight, taking the back route, just in case. The shed stood there in the bleak light. You fiddled for keys and it didn't make sense when the wooden door was unlocked, maybe Johnny forgot to lock it, anyway, all more easy. The door creaked in the silence and you couldn't care less, there was nothing between you and your victory black mallet and—

Your breath was knocked out of you as if your lungs were punctured, a gasp of white mist left your mouth at the sight of your husband, leaning idly against the wall.

" I... Anthony?! " You blinked and unblinked and he was still there, smiling.

" What are you doing here wifey ? " He cooed and it didn't help the terror that seized you.

" You knew ! " You hoped it wasn't as shaking like it felt in your throat, Anthony ran a hand through his hair and it all made sense, damn his dreamlike smile, damn you lord Viscount.

" You wound me baby, do you want me to tie you until the game tommorow, tell me, would you like that ? " He smiled all the while, faking a frown as he narrowed his eyes to your silhouette in dark.

" So you would guard the mallet all night ? " You wouldn't let Anthony win this time, it was coming on your pride now, also the love making that followed where he called you all those petty names. The last he called you runner up. No, you would win this time.

" Or I could tie you up, I like that better." Anthony suggested smugly, propping on top of the desk and flashing an erotic display of thigh, change of plans.

" My lord..." You whsipered, all seduction placed in one basket and all smugness was dropped when Anthony's lips parted.

" Do.not." he shuddered but you hit the nerve, moving slowly in your shaking steps, cloak dangling behind you.

" Anthony, these games are absurd. " You stiffled the laugh that burnt your chest, heart heaving and thudding inside your ribs.

It almost didn't work the last time you caught him stealing the mallet, Mrs.Wilson came at a very wrong time.

" It's not working." He assured, to himself mostly but his hand reached for your body all the same, betraying every word he said as he pulled you closer, face mere inches away.

He wrapped his big arms around your waist and cocked your head sideways.

" What about..." You paused, bumping your nose to his cheeks as he sniffed the moon shadow out of you, his lips tried to claim yours but you liked playing games. The ones you could win.

" About what ? " He asked breathless, his long slender fingers undoing the knot in frantic rushed movements. It was no use.

" I was thinking about...we don't have a daughter." You hoped nothing was drowned in the moan that left when Anthony bit at the junction of your neck and shoulder, he looked up with a glint, it was the most sincere set of eyes you had ever seen, also the lustiest.

Anthony could do both, have you screaming his name and worship you all the same.

" Take the mallet...take everything baby. " He kissed you, hard and crashing, like he couldn't get enough, you couldn't get enough and it became too restless for games and victory. Your body oozed with goosebumps and every single thought evaporated like mist and memories.

Anthony dropped the knot and pulled the cloak up from your head and you easily gave in, throwing your hands up as the satin fabric fell on the floor. Anthony hummed in desire.

You felt the cold air circling your body but as soon as Anthony's mouth kissed the exposed skin of you breast, it was gone, nothing mattered than him and his filthy demanding mouth.

" How beautiful you would look with our baby in your belly." He whispered against your skin and you shivered at the sensation.

His palm gripped your hips and lifted you on the desk, turning the dynamics and you cursed under your breath when his unholy fingers pinched your nipple, hard and raw.

" You like that ? " He breathed, undoing buttons of your nightdress like he was made for it, he was merciless sometimes, taking pleasure when you screamed his name and teasing you later, " so needy for me baby ? "

" An.. Anthony." You hoped he heard the plea, his thumb made circles in your inner thigh but never touching where you wanted him the most, " baby.." you buried your face in the crook of his neck and even so, you could hear the smile that crossed him, cocky and devilish.

" Say it wifey, say it nicely with your sweet mouth." He grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you back to face him, eyes locked as his head leaned down, his darted his tongue, pink and wet, the wonders he could did with that, he licked your one nipple while the other was tucked between his two fingers, pressing them together and you screamed, almost embarrassed but Anthony liked that, he always did.

" What's the word ? " He looked up smugly, pressing the tip of his nose to your nip, a smile quirking up. Fuck you Anthony!

Your brain short circuited as he tickled more and more and it became too much to bear.

" Plea... please baby, please, please —" he heard the plea and his mouth opened, taking in your soft flesh and humming in delight, kneading the other so it didn't miss his attention. He wasn't biased when it came to your body, giving everything his full attention and torment. You threw your head back at the sensation that vibratated in your body.

You grabbed his hand that glided on your bare thigh to guide him to touch you where you needed him the most, his teeth nibbed, not harder but enough to make your eyes watery as he slapped your hand away.

" You get the mallet, I get what I want, win win Viscountess." He kissed your cheek open mouthed and his desire was pressing hard against you.

" Fuck me." You said, flushed and dazed and Anthony eye's widened before he was back to play all lord and smug.

" You always order me so." He bit his lower lip but you had enough, fuck pall mall, fuck Anthony bridgerton, yes fuck him. Now.

" Fuck me Anthony! " You almost cried, Anthony leaned further, his forehead touching yours as he whispered,

" I wouldn't be able to sto—" don't stop, then.

You kissed him hard and soft, like fireworks wrecking your brain and you tongue traced his lower lip, intoxication wasted you.

He moaned and a strangled noise that you trapped in your mouth escaped, right from his throat.

His length was pressed against your thigh and it was warm and vibrating. You swallowed like a Virgin damsel.

Anthony looked at you, not breaking the fire that was blazing between your souls as he pulled it out his erection and there, angry red tip, sticky with pre cum was buzzing to be touched and loved and he looked up in delight when your eyes widened, all of the times, it didn't matter, it baffled you just the same.

You touched the tip and he shivered at the contact, his cock gave a twist and lurked fir more.

" Do you see ? " He was panting, shaking with his words as if he would fall if he didn't hold his breath, " see it ?! How much I burn for you, how much I want you ? " He shaked his head and touched his tip to your belly, soft and burning.

" No." He laughed humourlessly, his hand pushing your body to lie down on your back and you followed, taking a huge breath as Anthony grabbed your dangling ankle in a yank, bringing it around his neck.

He then kissed your knuckles softly, whsipering sweet nothings tenderly in your bones.

" I would give you anything my sweet love, you just have to ask...mallet ? I would give you my soul if you had asked. Anything for my baby love " He said, you felt your body tremor as he teased his tip at your insides, Anthony inhaled sharply as he entered you, warm and slick as oil. he entwined your fingers together.

" So good...so good for me baby." He moaned as he soft thrusted once, twice and until you were numb for anything, his words were halo in the dark, beaming silvery glow and then came one hard push and you arched your back as the pain waved in pleasure.

" Anthony..." You moaned, " oh god ! " Your words mingled in blasphemy and Anthony smiled in victory, pushing harder and harder as your hips rocked and roll.

" Say my name...say it." He demanded, your nails gripping at his shoulder so hard that it would scar, he liked it.

" Anthony...oh lord... Anthony." You screamed and chanted and you believed he heard the worship, the fate you had in him, and it didn't matter if anyone listened, let them, you thought, Anthony was a force to be reckoned with, a storm you never minded to be wrecked in. A beak of sweat glided from his forehead and dropped on your belly.

He was still pushing in a angle that had you seeing stars and cosmic love, he bend down, licking it, tongue gliding across your skin, and sniffing, taking in everything your offered.

He wanted all of you.

" I will fill you up with our baby, next time don't go hunting for mallet in midnight...it's so cold Darling, i would have to tie you up," He kissed your stomach bump, " and would carry you around everywhere." He said in dreamily haze that soon took over your lids.

The only sounds were erotic slapping of skin against skin and shuddering breaths, and he fastened his movements as a war cry took him over like a devil.

You head was thrown back as everything collapsed and grew again, bit by bit. Your eyelids drooped and a muffled cry came from you and then it was Anthony as he came in warm fizzy juice. Your felt the knot inside you uncoil and something loose inside you, uncorked as your juices mingled like your souls.

He pushed one more time, he always did that and then he collapsed next to you, satisfied, kissing your already bruised neck sweetly.

" Wouldn't you like that mama ? " He chorused and you laughed like a drunk, you would, a daughter with Anthony's eyes and smile, you smiled at the thought.

" Let's clean you up and take you to bed my lady." Anthony picked you, kissing you again as you giggled, he then grabbed the cloak and covered your body against the cold, you were dazed but not quite forgotten, you eyes searched for the war prize. Your mouth fell open, second time in a very same night.

" Where's the mallet ? " You narrowed your eyes at the stock of pink and blue and yellow but the black wasn't there, perhaps a trick of light.

Anthony followed your eyes and went closer, your arms wrapped around his shoulder and there, beneath the shadows was a parchment, rich and fresh.

Anthony picked it up with one hand, the other keeping you steady in his arms.

You saw the lanky words that belonged to none other than Mr. Bridgerton.

" Damn you Colin! " You growled as the mockful apology was scribbled for stealing the black mallet.

Anthony perched his lips at the heist but smiled when your whining eyes met his.

" I am going to whoop his ass and get you the mallet baby." He said, and you knew he will.

Victory indeed.

_________________________________________

Uhm Benedict bridgerton next ? Send in request ladies <3

[peachdues]

ALL THE THINGS WE LEFT UNSAID — NSFW TEASER

Tengen’s Bundle of Joy • secret pregnancy AU

A/N: oh yeah, this isn’t going to go wrong in the slightest, not at all —

CW: MDNI • explicit sexual content below

READ THE PROLOGUE HERE

Uzui slumps against the doorframe with a quiet exhale. “Look at you.”

The sound of his voice is enough to set you on edge, but the sight of him nearly knocks you over. It’s unfair that such an insufferable pain in the ass would be so damn pretty.

You scowl and the child in your belly shifts, sensing your unease. “Get out. I’m in no mood for your insults or mockeries —“

“You’re beautiful.” He chances a single, cautious step past the entryway, eyes dazed as he stares at you, as though in a trance.

“Why are you here?”

That seems to catch his attention, the dazed fog in his eyes clearing with a few, quick blinks. “I wanted to see how you were.” He swallows, hard. “How you both were.”

Warily, you step back, turning your hips away from him. “You’ve known where I was for months, and you wait until now?” You don’t bother to hold back the chill in your tone. Better to keep the distance between you firm rather than have to make up the slack when he inevitably decides to cross your boundaries.

——

“I can help,” his exhale is hot against your neck, though not more so than his hands as they skim down your shoulders. His fingers play with the opening in your robe. “You know I can. You don’t have to endure this alone.”

Oh, he could. He’d done such wicked things to you with just his mouth and hands alone, never mind what he done with the rest of him, so thick and hard.

The warmth bleeding into your back is like a drug, and you can’t help but melt into him as he ghosts his lips along the slope of your shoulder.

“Do you know how I’ve dreamed of you?” Surprisingly limber fingers push beneath the front folds of your yukata to graze the bare skin above your collar bone. Though the room is warm thanks to the fire cracking merrily in the hearth, you find yourself shivering as your robe teases lightly across your skin, baring more of you to the open air.

The breadth of the Sound Pillar’s forearm across your chest keeps you locked in place against him. “I’m at your mercy every time I fall asleep.”

“Uzu — oh,” your head thuds against his sternum when his fingers — those damn fingers — find your exposed breast.

“You realized it too that night, didn’t you?” The slow parting of your robe from your shoulders spreads goosebumps over your skin where the fabric drags. Between his hands and the teasing caress of your robe sliding down your arms, every nerve in your body comes alive. You sink further into him, bare from the top of your rounded belly, up.

Uzui’s arms swallow you up from behind, and his lips find your shoulder. “That we were made for one another? It’s why we didn’t stop, isn’t it?”

Too much; his hands are too warm, his mouth far too soft where it dances along your desperate skin. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched by anyone, let alone by someone whose caress almost could pass for something reverent. Loving.

It’s been so long since anyone cared.

“Aren’t you tired of us playing this game?” He asks, as though you’d been the one responsible for putting the pieces on the board. “Why do we have to keep dancing around it?”

Uzui doesn’t say what exactly it is he speaks of, and you know better than to ask. It is a door that cannot be shut once opened, and there is no point in trying to force it, anyways.

After all, you were not the one who locked it in the first place.

He drops to his knees before you, staring up at you with something like awe.

“I want you both to be mine.” He whispers, his forehead pressing to the generous swell of your stomach before he peers up at you. for a moment, all of the heat brimming in his eyes is smothered out by pure yearning, earnest and desperate.

“My baby,” his gaze remains locked with yours even as his lips softly graze your navel. “My woman.”

His lips travel down the outward curve of your stomach, every kiss an act of worship, until he pauses right before the dip in your thighs.

“Just say yes,” he urges, mouth hovering dangerously —infuriatingly close to where you ache. “I’ll take care of you both, I swear it.”

He seems so earnest. It is almost easy — too easy — to forget what led you here, heavily pregnant with his child.

You’d be more useful dead.

being horny doesn’t fix your problem, idiot

[merakiui]

terror in threes.

yandere!rollo flamme, fellow honest, & skully j. graves x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, slight flavoring of religion (father rollo flamme strikes again), murder, death, brief descriptions of blood/gore, age gap for reader (19) and fellow (26), physical abuse (beating), unplanned pregnancy, slut-shaming, kidnapping, coercion, obsession, delusion, stepcest, non-consensual kisses, all three characters written as 18+ note - three short horrors featuring the halloween trio in: MERCY, the terrifying tale of a vindictive priest; ON A DARK, STORMY NIGHT, the chilling caution against getting into a silver-tongued stranger's vehicle; MERRY, the shocking story of a twisted stepbrother led by a one-sided love that is not meant to be. // inspired by this brilliant artwork. thank you to the bestie @heyyy11 for discussing these thoughts with me. :D

MERCY.

Bent over the sink, you watch yourself in the mirror while your boyfriend pounds into you from behind. His fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your hips; your dress is bunched up in messy wrinkles and ruffles.

“Some—ooh—someone might come in,” you grunt, attempting to lift yourself onto your arms and failing miserably when he all but pushes you against the counter with a particularly rough thrust.

“Don’t worry about it, baby,” he says, gazing at your blissed-out reflection. “Everyone’s gone home. Candlelight service’s over.”

“Yes, but—” you tamp down a bawdy moan— “I just worry.”

About someone catching us. About getting locked in. 

“Aren’t we in God’s house? It’s supposed to be safe twenty-four seven.”

“If you say so…”

“So don’t worry.” He leans over to kiss the top of your head. You collapse against the sink. “There you go. Just relax. I gotcha.”

You shrug off your inhibitions and surrender to the pleasure. One hand slides away from your ass to reach between your thighs. You mewl like you’re in heat, arching your back the moment his fingers brush your clit. Now you feel like you’re floating, every frazzled nerve smoothed out once you feel the waves of encroaching orgasm lapping at your insides. But just before you can unravel, his hand covers your mouth.

Confused, you meet his stare in the mirror.

“Shh.” He holds a finger to his lips. “I heard someone outside.”

You roll your eyes. Either it’s his attempt to scare you or make the situation seem sexier. You think it’s the latter when he tears his eyes away from the door and resumes his thrusting. His hand falls from from your mouth, and soon your voices are mixing together, echoing off the tiled walls of the bathroom.

“I’m close,” you gasp, clenching tightly. “So close. Oh, I’m—”

The door creaks open then. You almost don’t hear it until someone loudly clears their throat. Like well-oiled clockwork, you and your boyfriend turn to look at him. For a moment, you forget he’s Father Flamme. Without his black cassock and holy accompaniments, he looks like a normal person.

“Ahem.”

Immediately, you’re pulling away from your boyfriend and pushing your dress down. “F-Father Flamme, we’re so sorry!”

Stern greens flick quietly from your bare legs to your face. His arms are folded behind his back.

“Damn,” your boyfriend mutters, visibly agitated. You’d feel the same if it wasn’t for the scalding embarrassment rushing through your blood.

He regards the both of you coldly, a disapproving frown etched on his face. “Why are you apologizing on his behalf? He has a mouth of his own.”

Taken aback, you open your own mouth to apologize once again and then shut it. Your boyfriend hurries to stuff himself into his slacks and then stands protectively in front of you.

“Think you should apologize first for looking at my girlfriend,” he sneers.

Father Flamme is silent for a moment. “Of course,” he finally concedes. “I should apologize.”

“Then do it—”

“I should apologize,” he continues, sardonic, “for providing her with a love far superior than the foul, impure lust you’ve shown her.”

“You take that back!”

Your boyfriend surges forward, determined to beat a proper apology out of the priest, and you, rather helplessly, grab at his shirt. He stops rigidly in his tracks when a pistol is pulled from Father Flamme’s back and aimed directly at him. Your gasp hitches at the back of your throat. Suddenly, the world is encased in a jar of molasses. You don’t see the bullet, but you hear it go off. The bang pierces the tranquility of the bathroom, lodging itself in your ears until they’re ringing. You drop to your knees and press your palms into your ears, squeezing your eyes shut. You hear your boyfriend collapse in a heap, but you don’t see the brain matter splatter against the wall.

It’s a clean shot, but just to be perfectly precise Rollo fires once more into his chest. Right at his heart. Chancing a glance at the wall behind you, you scream when you see the blood. Some of it has even managed to get on you, staining your skin and your white dress. Instinctively, you scramble away from the body, pressing yourself into the corner.

“May God have mercy on his soul,” he murmurs, ensuring the safety lock is flicked on before placing the gun on the counter. “And may He forgive these hands that have been soiled in the name of justice.”

You wrap your arms around yourself in a self-soothing hug and stare blankly ahead.

That…just happened. He killed your boyfriend. Father Rollo Flamme killed your boyfriend.

Water rushes into the basin next. He rolls his sleeves up. You listen to him as he washes his hands of sin, scrubbing it from his skin with scentless, antibacterial soap. Your stare falls upon the gun, but the idea is promptly burned away when you meet his frigid stare in the glass. He’s watching you, his lips pursed in a thin line. Not quite a frown, but not quite a smile either.

“It baffles me that you would allow a sinner to defile you like this. You, who are so good and pure, a noble heart… Ah, but you aren’t at fault. That despicable pest has been exterminated, so there’s no need to point fingers. The blame shall die with him.”

You sniffle, tears clouding your eyes.

“I apologize you had to see that.” He dries his hands and then, wetting a fresh towel with soap and warm water, kneels before you. “To have tainted you in that sinner’s blood… I implore your forgiveness.”

Gently, he dabs at the mess. You can’t back up any further, but you certainly try with this startling proximity, squirming uncomfortably when he drags his knuckle along your cheek.

“Why?” you whisper, utterly, indescribably haunted.

“Did you not hear me earlier?” He offers you a warm smile, but it only makes you feel cold. “I intend to love you chastely. His ‘love’ is worthless—nothing but lust disguised as pure adoration. He failed to appreciate you in life, and thus it is a failure he shall die, his ugly sin exposed for the world to behold.”

Father Flamme presses the cloth to your cheek next. Not to clean blood, but to wipe the tear streaks and the nonexistent mark of where his fingertips once lingered.

“I have saved you from that monster. It may not seem so at this moment, for you are a lost lamb blinded by devilish temptations, but you will realize later this was for the best.”

You can’t form the words. You can’t even form thoughts. It’s all static. 

“Do you understand, (Name)?”

You nod, but you really don’t.

ON A DARK, STORMY NIGHT.

You pace to and fro on the side of the road, clutching your stomach every fifteen seconds. Rain pelts your sweater, soaking through that and the little backpack hanging off of your shoulder with its single strap. There isn’t much inside. You could hardly pack it when your mother was in your ear, shouting a nasty set of lines: “You whorish, two-bit cunt! What do you think you’re doing, throwing away your life like this?! Who’s going to afford that parasite? Not me! Definitely not you! Not when you ought to be in school, not hopping on some man’s dick! Where is your shame?!”

Her slipper came down upon your arm, the back of your head, your neck, unrelenting in its whacks. You scrambled about in your room like a headless chicken, shielding your face and stomach when you could. She continued to berate you in that harsh, shrill tone of hers. Whenever your vision became blurred with tears, you had to hurry to blink them away so that they wouldn’t obscure your view of the path to the front door.

On your way out of your room, you managed to snatch an old sweater. She pursued in a furious flurry and this time you were sure, should she get a firm grasp on your arm, she’d kill you.

“Out! Out of my house!” she squawked when you stumbled down the steps in a blind panic. Rain wet your face, or maybe it was the tears. “You’re no child of mine. Don’t think about coming back here.”

The door was slammed so hard it shook in its frame.

So you gathered yourself, lifted your shirt to check the rounded dome of your stomach, and then pulled the sweater on over your head.

You walked. Past houses and storefronts, crossing busy streets, peering into the windows of a bar.

You walked. Under flickering lamp posts, through chilly rain, towards the edge of your broken world.

You walked. Until civilization gave way to sprawling darkness and trees. Until the path was muddied and slick. Until you were wading through thick, tall grass.

Now you walk up and down this strip of road, far from home and freezing-cold. You’re hungry, too. It’s been hours since the last car sped past, blissfully ignorant to your flailing arms and desperate shouts: “Wait! Please stop! Wait!”

You’re beginning to think you might die out here, alone and poor, a worthless nobody.

“Fuck,” you spit, wiping the tears/rain from your eyes. “Fuck!”

You kick a clump of grass onto the road and scream at the sky.

And then headlights roll over the hill, cutting through the gloom. Headlights that are attached to a car. A car!

Hope restored, you scurry onto the slick pavement and wave your arms about. When it seems like the car isn’t going to stop, you skitter onto the dirt path.

“Wait! Please wait!” you cry out, still gesturing wildly.

To your surprise and relief, the car eases to a stop just ahead and a window lowers slowly. It squeaks noisily, and you can hear the broken parts of the mechanism rattling inside the door. Happiness surges through you, and you approach the vehicle slowly. A figure comes into view, most of his face hidden in the shadows of his hood. He looks thoroughly soaked, as does the little boy snoozing in the passenger seat. He’s hugging a shovel in his sleep, a satisfied smile on his face. Both of them are clad in grimy, oversized raincoats. You think it’s dirt when you peer closely, but you’re not certain.

The man lifts his hand in greeting and you realize he’s wearing gloves.

“Well, hello there, little miss!” He flashes his teeth at you in a sharp, close-eyed smile. “Bit late to be out and about, don’tcha think?”

“I… I’m so sorry, but I desperately need a ride.”

A pair of brilliant orange eyes open to view you. He assesses you with a subtle once-over.

“A ride, you say? Hmm…” He strokes his chin with his hand, feigning deep thought. “Awfully unsafe for a lady to be wandering around in the dark.”

He could drive off any minute and you might never get a ride. You’re not sure how much longer you can last in this rain.

“I don’t have much money on me… I just… I really need to get out of this rain.” You cup the small bump hidden beneath your sweater and then flounder for the necklace around your throat. “I can give you this! A-And everything else in my bag. It’s not a lot, but maybe you can do something with it…”

The man raises a prominent eyebrow. The window is cracked just enough so he can look out at you, but you can’t reach in if you wanted to. Not that you would. Something about the filthy appearance of this man and his charismatic aura unsettles you. But he’s the second car you’ve seen tonight. The first car to have stopped for you. You can’t let this opportunity slip through your fingers no matter how suspicious he seems.

“What’s your name, little miss?”

“It’s (Name), sir. My mother kicked me out. I don’t have anywhere to go, but if you can just get me to the nearest shelter…”

He gazes through you rather than at you, his attention pinned on your stomach. A shadow passes over his face, but it’s quickly dispelled when he smiles.

“That doesn’t sound too difficult now, does it? I couldn’t possibly leave a little lady stranded in these elements. Why, anyone who would is simply heartless!” You hear the click of a lock. “Hop in. I’ll take you there.”

“Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!”

“Not at all. Thank you for stopping me. Otherwise I might’ve just passed you up.”

“I’m so grateful. I can’t thank you enough,” you confess, choking on your joy. You pull the door open and climb into the backseat. It’s very…messy, and it smells like smoke and wet earth and overall unpleasant things. Your nose wrinkles, but you remind yourself not to judge too scathingly. After all, you don’t look very neat yourself in your shabby sweater.

“You from around here?” the man asks once you’ve buckled in.

“Yes. Well, no. Um… I’m not sure how far from home I am.” You rub at your sore arms, teeth chattering. “I’ve j-just been walking all over, sir. U-Um… If I may, what’s your name?”

He scoffs lightheartedly, almost like it isn’t important. “I’m just an honest fellow trying to get home in this nasty weather.” This honest fellow indicates the boy beside him next. “It’s a bit of a drive and my little brother can’t quite stay up for the entirety of it. Kids, am I right? They think they’re stronger than the world with all of their confidence, but no one’s stronger than the inescapable call of sleep!”

You laugh into your hand, careful not to wake the boy. “I see. You must be coming back from a road trip then?”

“Precisely so, little miss. You’ve keen intuition.”

A comforting quiet blankets the inside of the car. You watch the trees pass while he drives. Eventually, they fall away to reveal a neighborhood you’ve never seen before. The houses are in disrepair, and everything looks grey. This isn’t where the shelter is, you realize, and your horror only multiplies when he turns down another road and parks in front of a decrepit-looking apartment complex.

“Time to wake up now.” He shakes the boy, who comes to with a few sleepy blinks. He notices you and smiles, waving with a flappy sleeve.

“Sir? Mr. Fellow—was it?—what is this place?” You shrink back into the car when he opens the door for you and offers his gloved hand.

“Why, this is the shelter!” He beams proudly. “Do you not see the windows? The roof? The shape of this lovely building? Clearly it is the shelter you’ve mentioned.”

“But this is…” Not that. Not the home I’m looking for. You hold your bag close to your chest and allow the honest fellow to help you out. The rain is but a soft pitter-patter now.

His hands fall upon your shoulders, trapping you in place. “What do you think, Gidel? I’d say this is better than any old shelter. Why, this is a glorious haven! As they say, a treasure is not yet treasure until it’s polished to a shine. Every gem is rough around the edges, wouldn’t you say so?”

The boy—Gidel—nods enthusiastically. You don’t trust him or the shovel he holds behind his back.

“Thank you for the ride. It was nice to meet both of you, but I can walk the rest of the way.”

“Nonsense! A lady should never walk alone at night. It’s much too dangerous.” He holds his hand over his heart and gasps dramatically. “My chest aches at the thought of it! What horrid beasts might lurk out there… You must allow us to show you just a pinch more of our hospitality. At least until this pesky rain abates.”

He smiles at you in a way that doesn’t give you a chance to get a word in. The car is shut and locked, and he twirls the key ring on his finger as he guides you towards the dingy building. Gidel hurries along after you, nodding in time with the honest fellow’s cheery humming.

MERRY.

Christmas music floods your brain, a loud, constant thrum of whimsical bells and chimes. The headphones are pulled from your person next, and suddenly a voice invades your pleasant dreams. Over and over, calling out to you…

“Sister…” A slight nudge. “Dearest sister of mine, please wake up…” A cold finger prods at your cheek.

Groaning, you shift in your sleep. The muscles in your face twitch with every persistent poke.

“(Name)?”

Your eyes peel open slowly, searching through the lamplight to find a pale face. “Huh… Mmh… What’s going on? Oh, it’s you, Skully. What’s wrong?”

He fidgets awkwardly where he stands. He almost looks like a real younger brother when he’s so restless, but his looming height is a reminder that he’s grown up just like you. With his gangly limbs, circular frames that sit crooked on his face, and unkempt bedhead with those troublesome strands that fluff up no matter how many times he smooths them down, he looks more like a deer caught in an oncoming car’s headlights.

You sit up in bed and rub the sleep from your eyes. “It’s way too early. The sun’s not even up yet! Why’re you awake?”

“I couldn’t possibly sleep,” he confesses, the words just spilling out, and he sounds ecstatically happy. “Not when Christmas is finally here. Aren’t you excited, Sister? Don’t you wish to see what Sandy Claws has brought us?”

Aren’t we a little old to believe in him still? you almost ask, but the question sticks in your throat when you notice the crimson speckled on Skully’s sweater vest. It stands out starkly against the white of his collared undershirt. Now you’re fully awake and worried. Very worried.

“Skully—”

“Come, come!”

He tugs at your arm, pulling the limp you from your bed. You allow yourself to be dragged like a ragdoll, led from the bedroom into the hall. The lights strung around the tree shine so brightly you can see their glow against the wall from the top of the stairs. His hand, cold and clammy, slides into yours. He’s always had a habit of clinging to you, of reaching for your hand, ever since the both of you were little. At your age now, it feels…weird. But his fingers are twining around yours and it’s impossible to pull away.

You descend the stairs with him and approach the sitting room. Dread pools in your stomach. You sniff at the air and choke on the acrid stench of iron.

“What is that?!” You pull your shirt up to your nose and attempt to yank away from him. “Skully, it smells gross.”

“No, it’s okay!” he assures, taking hold of your arm. A wobbly smile pulls his chapped lips apart. There’s a giddy mania spiraling in his orange eyes, and his voice lifts in pitch. His next words are spoken in a breathless ramble. “Just trust me. It’s a good gift. A great gift, really. You’ll see.”

You don’t want to see. Not when you spy a splash of liquid red staining the floor, peeking out at you from around the corner.

“Oh! Close your eyes. It’ll be a surprise!”

“Skully, I don’t want to. I… I don’t like surprises.”

“Oh, but this is a good one! I promise.” He squeezes your arm. “Please? You’ll like it.”

You doubt that, but his expression is so full of expectation that you give in with a sigh. Your eyes fall shut and Skully squeals in excitement.

“Wonderful! Allow me to escort you.” He sidles closer, his hands at your waist. “There… Just around this corner here. Oh, careful now. Watch your step.”

Your nostrils prickle at the intense smell. The path he leads you through is deliberate. You’re about to open your eyes, but then his large hands fall over them.

“Not yet! I haven’t done the count.” He inhales a steadying breath. It rattles in his throat. “O-Okay. One. Two… Three.” His fingers part and then the veil lifts. “Merry Christmas, Sister.”

Nothing could have prepared you for what you find lying in front of you. Amidst presents wrapped in glittering foils are the brutalized corpses of your parents. They’re sprawled in a smattering of blood. In fact, blood is everywhere—flecked on the curtains, on the few ornaments hanging from the lowest boughs of the tree, on the wallpaper. You’re not sure if you can even call such slaughter a simple murder. This was a slaying. An execution. You spy the deep gash carved into your mother’s throat and your hands fly to your own neck. A ghastly shriek pierces the air, practically torn from your lungs.

Skully flinches, panic twisting his kind, youthful features. “Oh! Oh, no, no! Don’t cry.” He takes hold of your head, sandwiching it between both of his hands—hands that so cruelly cut down your mother and his father. “Please don’t cry…”

“Oh, my… My God… You… Y-You killed them!”

You peek at your stepfather out of some stupid instinct to hope for the best, and another sob bubbles up when you realize he and your mother are truly dead. Unable to look upon such a grisly scene any longer, you stagger away and turn sharply on your heel. Bile tinges your tongue, but you quickly slap a hand over your mouth and swallow it down. Skully braces you before you can fall over, wrapping his long arms around you from behind.

“For you!” he insists. “I did it for you—for us, dearest sister! They… They were going to send me away. I couldn’t allow that! If we were to be separated… It would tear my heart apart.” He clutches you tighter as if you’re a teddy bear. “I tried to explain it to them—truly, I did—but they couldn’t understand. They wouldn’t understand. So I had to do it, (Name). I couldn’t allow them to send me away. You understand, don’t you?”

Gingerly, he wipes your tears away and then leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. When that doesn’t change anything, he frowns.

Seemingly inconsolable, you continue to bawl even though your throat is dry and your head is aching and your heart is hurting. He releases his hold on you enough for you to stumble away.

Ever the adamant one, Skully tries again. He takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips. You slide down the wall and he follows you, caging you in the corner.

“Dearest sister of mine, don’t cry…”

His hand cups your cheek next, and his thumb swipes at a stray tear.

“I’m here for you. Always.”

Your shadows are splayed against wallpaper striped with blood. His looms over yours, almost swallowing it whole. In green and red lights, your reflections caught in glass ornaments, Skully seals that promise with a press of his mouth to yours.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

DON’T BRING ME TO TEARS WHEN I JUST DID MY MAKEUP SO NICE !

chuuya nakahara x f! reader

after a long and draining argument, chuuya makes it up to you in between your thighs.

smut! you are responsible for what you read 🪽

inspired by please please please

it was no ones fault, really.

it was one of those arguments that are really an amalgamation of many different things. that unwashed plate, his late nights and your early mornings, the way he brushes his teeth so god damn loud when you’re trying to read. it happens to every couple- not everything is sunshine, and you have to learn to love each other despite the things that may drive you crazy.

this should have been one of those nights. but it wasn’t.

you finally give out, surrendering your yells as the tears choke down your cheeks. he’s rescheduled this anniversary dinner about 6 times now, all due to his lucrative line of work. you were a okay at first, despite the nerve he had to make you call the restaurant almost all those times to cancel and reschedule.

“i feel like i don’t matter to you, chuuya.” you sigh in frustration, wiping away a tear. his eyebrows crease in shared annoyances, mostly towards himself for letting it get to this point. he’s tired, overworked by that jackass mori, and just wants to come home to you and feel your love. but he’s broken his promises, and knows he’s wronged you- despite how cocky he may be.

“i know, i know, i know, doll.” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. he hates seeing you cry, and hates knowing he’s the reason why. he hates that the dress you just bought is now wrinkled due to waiting around in the apartment for him, and that your perfect eyeliner and mascara are smudged because of your arguing.

he isn’t even sure why he argued back. he knows he’s a prick that hates being wrong, but he’s also a prick thats head over heels in love with you. he shouldn’t have pushed you to the side, especially on such an important day. his explanations remained the same, but his promises remained broken.

you eventually sigh in defeat, giving up and locking yourself in the bedroom. chuuya resigns to the couch, opening up a bottle of cabernet and filling his glass full. he tosses his hat and his coat aside, loosely undoes his bolo tie and unbuttons his shirts. if you weren’t sobbing over his asshole-like behaviour, you’d get to see his unreasonably toned abs peaking out from his shirt. messy orange hair hangs low from his shoulders, tired and missing you.

a few hours go by. chuuya’s had his fair share of alcohol, but he’s not intoxicated enough to miss the subtle click of the bedroom door unlocking.

he hesitantly walks over to the door, creaking it open to see you standing there. his eyes shamelessly roam your body, seeing how you’ve removed the dress and stripped down to just your panties.

“i was just gonna go to sleep.” you sigh. its not like he hasn’t seen every inch of you, anyway.

“wait.” he says, gently taking your hand and looking into your eyes. (impressive, considering you’re literally naked in front of him.)

you don’t say anything, but your fingers do interlock with his. it gives chuuya the green light to speak.

“…i’m sorry, doll. i shouldn’t have kept rescheduling and accepting you not to care. you do matter. it meant just as much to me as it did to you.” say what you will about chuuya, but he is a stand up guy. he’ll own up to it, especially if he knows its important to you.

you sigh, your lips curling into a small smile. its hard, damn near impossible to stay mad at him. “please don’t make me call the restaurant again, babe.”

chuuya chuckles, and you can see the remnants of the wine on his lips. he knows you’re only half joking, but he kisses your forehead in reassurance. “no, i have something different in mind.”

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

chuuya eats pussy like he’s starved.

he drags you to the end of the bed, getting on his knees and places kisses on your innermost corners until your sobbing, begging for him to kiss you. he’ll use his thumbs to spread you open, just admiring the way he gets your fluids dripping down. he’ll spit on your pussy, seeing how it runs down your already gushing core before he finally goes in.

slowly, he’ll sink down between your trembling thighs, his tongue darting out to take that first tantalizing lick. you arch your back at just that light contact, knowing you’ll be in for a long night. his hands grab your hips, blessedly holding you in place while he lavishes your pussy.

“your pussy is so pretty, baby.” he moans against you, closing his eyes and loving how warm and soft you are. he savours this taste likes its the last he’ll ever have. as intimate as the moment is, you both know he’ll fuck his cock into you filthy and fast later- better to enjoy the soft stuff now.

“je pourrais rester ici pendant des heures.” he groans with you, the vibrations sending waves of warm pleasure through your body. it starts from your teary eyes, than to your sensitive breasts, down to your stomach and the finally reaching chuuya in between your thighs. every now and then his eyes will open, looking up to see your flushed pink face, but he doesn’t dare remove his mouth. not until your soaking wet for him.

“chuuya! oh, fuck, please!” you whine, grabbing fistfuls of silky orange hair. he chuckles almost cruely, knowing that he’s not stopping any time soon. he does this just as much for him as he does for you, if not more. he loves the way you moan his name, how your pussy tastes. it makes his cock fill out knowing that he’s the only guy that gets to taste it.

“please what doll? want me to stop?” he asks, already knowing what the answer is. he teases you by slowing down his tongue, only touching your pulsing heat with just the tip of it. you almost cry, begging him to keep going.

“bonne fille, tu as tellement bon goût.” he praises you, wrapping his wine-stained lips around your clit and sucking in a way that gets you sobbing from the pleasure. you want to wrap your thighs around his head, pushing him deeper, but he keeps your legs nice and spread for him. “just like that, doll. god, you’re so pretty like this. can’t wait to fuck you so good later.”

you can feel yourself unraveling, and chuuya knows it. his tongue, lips and teeth move in a messy pattern, making your toes curl deliciously. you’re so close, almost seeing white as you approach your high. he does everything to make it as intense as possible, ending it off with one long stroke from bottom to the tip of your clit.

you wail when you cum, chuuya’s thumb rubbing your clit in circles guiding you through the orgasm. your chest heaves as he moves up higher, placing a kiss on your neck. “don’t worry baby, i’ll make you squirt tonight. just relax.”

safe to say that if chuuya was gonna make you cry, he should do it like this instead.