#lovely readers <3< /div>
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captain-joongz · 11 hours ago
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do you think we’ll get a part 2 of deserve you ? i read it last night an it’s safe to say im obsessed and need more 😩🙏
Oooh, well my dear anon, you're not the first to ask, and since I'm not currently working on any ateez project, I might give part 2 a chance!
I can see where it could go, so giving it a try could be a good idea! <3
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obsesssedblerd · 6 months ago
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You look up from your book to see your husband standing over the bassinet with his arms crossed, his brow raising as he looks down inside of it with a tiny scowl. He stays like that for about a minute. You sit up in your shared bed, then call out to him. “Ryo.” 
“Hm.” He doesn’t look up. 
“May I ask what you are doing?” 
“The little brat is staring,” Sukuna says matter-of-factly. “I am simply staring at her in return.” 
Inside of the bassinet, your baby daughter coos. Her scarlet eyes—exactly like her father’s—glitter with interest. You hear her giggle, and you scoff lightly and return your gaze to your book. “She thinks you’re playing a game.” 
“I am doing no such thing.” 
You flip a page. “Put a hand over your face for a few seconds.” He doesn’t respond, but you know he listens. “M’kay, now lift.” There’s silence for a few seconds, then your daughter bursts into a fit of giggles. 
Sukuna rolls his eyes. “I do not understand what is so entertaining about that.” When you look up again, you see that he’s covering his face again, then revealing himself to get the same reaction from the baby.
“It’s called peek-a-boo. It’s a game most babies love to play.” 
The little princess babbles as she lifts her arms up, and Sukuna tilts his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 
You snicker. “One: You’ll figure out what she’s saying the more you talk with her. Two: She wants you to pick her up.” 
He sighs dramatically, then reaches into the bassinet to pick up the small girl. Though she has her father’s eyes, she has your hair, the shape of your nose, and your ears. She also has your fearlessness, because she smiles directly in the face of the king of curses. Now at his eye level, she reaches her arms towards him excitedly. “What is it now, you brat? I’m already carrying you.” 
He looks over at you in question, and your smile grows. “She wants to touch your face,” you say. 
“Why?” 
“Because she’s a baby, and she’s curious.” 
Sukuna pulls her closer, and once in range, his daughter lays her tiny hands against his marked face. She giggles more, and you can see his eyes soften. “Hmph. You have your mother’s smile.” 
— — — —
The next morning, you walk into the kitchen where you hear Sukuna speaking with someone. When he turns to the side, you see your daughter nestled in the crook of one of his muscular arms, staring up at him as he concluded whatever story he was telling her. 
“...At the end of the battle, only I remained. Victory was mine.” 
The baby babbles excitedly, and Sukuna scoffs. “Ha, you will do no such thing. How do you expect to join me in battle when you aren’t even a year old, brat?” 
Her face scrunches in what looks like annoyance, and she repeats to him what he taught her the night before. “Hmph.” 
You burst into laughter, and Sukuna raises a brow at the little girl in his arms. “Great. Your mother’s smile, and her attitude.”
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ashonheavenscloud · 10 months ago
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OMGNSHDHSHSV JUST RUGHT SHDBIN GOING TO EXPLAODE DHSHDHD I FEEL LIKE PEOPLE ALWAYS WRITE SEUNGMIN AS A HARD DOM AND PERSONALLY IT MAKES ME KINDS OF :( SO READING THIS WAS SODHDBJDSJD IM GOING TO CRY PLEASE TELL ME YOURE GOING TO HAVE A PART 2 TO THE BATHROOM PART LIKE FHDHDHSBDH IM JOT OKAY
NOOOOO CAUSE SAME i really see seungmin as a very soft, playful dom but it’s much more rare to find and i’m glad other people agree😭 we love a sweet little tease <3
considering i wrote this so long ago, i don’t know when i’d get around to a part 2 but i CAN guarantee more lover boy seungmin in the future🫶🏻
thank you so much for your kind message and for reading my work! this made my day🥺
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stargirlstabber · 3 months ago
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imagine alpha!simon riley ruthlessly rutting his strong hips into you from behind. his massive hand pushes your head down as you moan and cry into the pillow, your drool slowly soaking the fabric. and that is not the only thing that's getting soaked. your tight cunt is soaking wet, literally dripping around your alpha's cock, milking him, eager for his knot. as well as the soaked sheets. mostly from your sweet release squirting out of you while simon never once stops pistoning his thick length into you. you just take what your alpha gives you, loosing count of how many times you already came. but don't worry, your alpha keeps track of that, he always counts your releases out loud for you to hear. if your cockdrunk brain can even grasp the information. once he rumbles out a two digit number, you ask yourself how you're even alive with the way he's fucking you.
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odoraful · 2 months ago
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𝐈 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒
even in their relationship with you, they still have their moments of jealousy every now and again
⟡ content: zayne/sylus/xavier/rafayel x gn!reader; established relationship; luke & kieran appearance in sylus’ scene; new receptionist in zayne's scene; andrew appearance in xavier's scene; a little silly and a lot fluffy; 0.8–1k words per scene
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ZAYNE ⟡
Every situation requires an assessment to determine the most logical course of action. Zayne embodied this statement in his work, and even in parts of his relationship with you. One such part was when it came to jealousy. In all his assessments, 99% of the time, there was no threat, and, therefore, no intervention required. In any case, if a guy were to approach you in such a way, he trusted you entirely as well to not entertain him. However, as he opened his office door to call you from the waiting room, he was confronted by that 1%.
The new receptionist hired to work alongside Yvonne was young, charming, and far too friendly. Especially towards you. You stopped by quite regularly. Sometimes for your scheduled check-in appointments, and oftentimes to simply visit Zayne during his downtime. That was enough for the young man to recognise you, his energy ignited by your presence.
Zayne could only see your side profile as you stood by the receptionist desk, engaged in a conversation with the young man. You appeared to be all smiles with him today. Whatever story he was telling seemed to be so thrilling. Zayne’s face remained calm, aside from the twitch of his jaw when he clenched his teeth. If anybody had been watching, they would have likely jumped at such a sign of vexation by the cardiac surgeon.
Until that point, he thought he had known what jealousy was. He had read it in books and seen it in TV shows, all of which portrayed jealousy leading to several outbursts and stand-offs. However, as he felt something rising from the pit of his stomach and burning in his chest, he understood that the purest kind of it now flared inside him. It was a dangerous emotion that clouded his mind and, before he knew it, his feet had carried him right to your side.
Mr. Chatterbox regarded Zayne with disbelief at his approach, standing up to properly greet him.
“Doc! What a rare sight seeing you personally greet a patient at the desk.”
Zayne paid only a cursory glance and the slightest nod of acknowledgement to him before his attention was narrowed on you.
“If you’d like to come in now, Y/N,” Zayne said, his voice smooth and warm.
You nodded. “Of course.”
As you walked, he placed his hand at the small of your back, pulling you closer to him by just a fraction. He turned his head to the side, enough so the young man could see his sharp eyes. Zayne wasn’t one for outbursts, so he hoped this calculated display was enough of a warning.
Watching Dr. Zayne disappear with you into his office, the receptionist muttered to himself, “Why does it feel chillier in here than before?”
Yvonne, a bystander to everything that just occurred, quietly approached her freshly hired colleague from behind. She delt a swift smack on his head with the edge of her palm. He yelped out in exaggerated pain, rubbing at the spot as if she had just given him a bruise.
“Could you be anymore oblivious…” she sighed, shaking her head. Her gaze then turned fiery as she began to scold, “And how many times have I told you to stop yammering around patients!?”
At the sound of Yvonne’s voice, he immediately redirected his efforts. Not even addressing his colleague’s prior criticism, he clasped his hands together.
“Miss Yvonne! How are you doing on this lovely–”
“Fax this, please,” she interrupted, holding a referral letter up directly to his face.
He gave a mock shiver, taking the paper from Yvonne’s hand. “So cold in this division.”
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“It seemed like you were making good conversation with our new hire,” Zayne commented, closing the door behind him.
You breathed a laugh. “He’s quite chatty. I guess it’s good to have someone so energetic working at the desk.”
That sensation within Zayne turned molten, though, you couldn’t have known with the coolness of his palm. What would be his intervention here? Maybe he needed to have a stern conversation with the young man, or perhaps he had to be more obvious in his affections towards you. He could never match the energy the receptionist had, so it would be impossible to achieve such a feat.
In his momentary stewing, you let out an uncertain hum.
“To be honest, he kept talking about himself... it was a little overwhelming,” you confessed sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “I couldn’t be impolite to him, so I just smiled and nodded at whatever he said!”
Instantly, Zayne’s mind cleared. His jealousies dwindled into nothing more than ashes. A part of him even felt silly at how intense he was feeling just a few seconds ago.
Unexpectedly, he rested his head on your shoulder with a sigh. Your eyes widened with confusion before you chuckled.
“Isn’t this a bit unprofessional, doctor?” you teased.
“Feel free to file a complaint to the hospital’s human resource division,” he retorted, not missing a beat.
Your mirth readily turned into concern at the affectionate display.
“But seriously, Zayne, is everything okay?” you asked, poking at his cheek.
Zayne lifted his head. He seemed to be, surprisingly, relieved. Though, you couldn’t figure out what exactly he would be relieved about.
“Yes, everything is perfect now.”
SYLUS ⟡
There was nothing that a deathly glare or a good shove couldn’t do to resolve Sylus’ jealousy. Warding off any unsuspecting parties was his speciality, especially if it involved them getting too close to you. However, the leader of Onychinus was thrown for a loop when his very own henchmen were sparking these feelings.
“You are… going out with Y/N today?” Sylus spoke slowly, as if sounding out syllables to a baby. “Is what I’m hearing correct, Luke?”
Kieran not-so-subtly kicked Luke in the shin. Luke stifled a groan. Rather than be on their way to Linkon (and to you), they were here being confronted by the boss. It was an unfortunate slip-up from Luke as they were about to leave, which caused Sylus to sternly halt their exit.
“Yes, boss.” Luke replied, trying to stand up straighter with only one good shin.
“And for what reason exactly?” Sylus asked.
Luke resignedly sighed.
“They wanted someone to–”
“Help clean their apartment!” Kieran quickly finished.
He turned and gave a pointed glare to his twin brother. You better follow along, it seemed to threaten.
Luke began nodding profusely, “Yep! Gosh, boss, you wouldn’t even believe the mess!”
“This type of menial work was probably too peasantry for you–”
“So, they invited us instead!”
Sylus’ henchmen stood there, looking quite proud of themselves and their innocent display. Sylus rolled his eyes at their dramatics. Luke and Kieran could do any task Sylus asked, no matter how dirty, and yet they were quite terrible at lying. Maybe he needed to teach them some skills in deception later. He dismissed them sharply with a wave of his hand.
“Go. Make sure to return before I leave this evening.”
The henchmen bowed, preparing to scurry away, but before they could, Sylus spoke again,
“Don’t take your eyes off them for even a second, do you understand?”
They turned back to Sylus and nodded, bowing once again.
“And–”
Sylus’ continual interruption of their exit left them in an awkward position right at the threshold of his office.
“–they don’t enjoy mopping, so I trust one of you will play the gentleman and take up that task.”
“You got it, boss.” Luke and Kieran said in unison before finally departing.
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Sylus was planning on sleeping before your date in the evening, but that was completely out of the question now.
Hanging out with Luke and Kieran? To, supposedly, clean? He knew what they had told him was a lie. However, a small, burning part of him was frustrated. If that had been the truth, he naturally would have been the far better partner. With the time you had shared together, surely you had not so quickly found his own company lacklustre in comparison to his henchmen. He could have been in your apartment, with you, cleaning together. Instead, he was in his mansion, alone, and grumpy. Grumpy enough to open his tablet, and switch to his camera feeds connected to Mephisto.
He had asked if his skilled companion could do a bit of reconnaissance at your apartment to confirm what this ragtag trio were doing. As the camera feed loaded, he saw that your home was empty. Internally, he cursed. Mephisto flew down to street level, and, as luck would have it, three familiar people stepped out of the apartment complex. Luke and Kieran were there (wearing face masks and caps that disguised their faces as opposed to their crow masks) along with you.
Sylus sat up in his bed. 
He followed this trio as they walked to a nearby clothing store. Unfortunately, it would be considered odd for a crow to be indoors, so all Mephisto could do was perch atop a bench in front of the establishment and watch the three of you retreat inside behind the automatic glass doors.
Tossing the tablet aside onto the silk sheets, Sylus crossed him arms. If the thought of not being able to clean with you had made him grumpy, then seeing that he was not invited to shop for clothes with you truly made his blood boil with jealousy. As he attempted to get some rest, he thought about casual ways to mention on this evening’s date how he could rent out entire department stores for you if you wanted.
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Sylus tapped his dress shoes rhythmically against the floor, awaiting your door to be opened after he had rung the bell. He had arrived at exactly 5 o’clock to pick you up, and although he was always well put together, he put in a little extra effort on his hair this time.
He heard the door unlock, slowly opening to only reveal your head poking out. He cocked his head to the side.
“Sweetie, are you trying to hide from me?”  
“Mmm, think of it more like I’m building anticipation,” you explained with a grin on your face.
Sylus laughed fondly. He leaned his own head against the wall beside the doorframe, turning to look at you.
“Consider me sufficiently anticipated,” he replied. “Now, may I see you?”
You gestured for him to move back so you could give a grand reveal.
“I just bought this today.”
The door swung open, and you stepped outside.
“How do I look?”
Very little could surprise Sylus; however, you had utterly blindsided him in this moment. You were wearing a dress that Sylus didn’t recognise from your current wardrobe. He knew then that the outing with Luke and Kieran had been to surprise him with a new dress for your date.
Flowy, ruby fabric draped against your figure, reaching down to your ankles. His eyes followed the heart-shaped neckline that framed the pearl necklace that rested at your collarbones, matching the accessory in your hair. All this prepared just for him.
“You look absolutely radiant,” he breathed.
Closing the distance, he snaked a hand around you, toying with the smooth material under his warm fingertips. Seeing how gorgeous you were almost alleviated his earlier frustrations, until he came to a sour realisation.
“Though, I can’t help but be… annoyed that Luke and Kieran saw this surprise before me.”
You bit your lip. Of course, Sylus had figured out what his henchmen were doing throughout the day. His voice grew deeper as his lips brushed against your ear.
“Next time, kitten, you should invite me to go with you instead.”
XAVIER ⟡
It took very little to spark Xavier’s jealousy, as much as the man himself would want to deny it. Strangers, colleagues, and acquaintances could cause his unassuming appearance to transform into a hostile front if they got too friendly with you. But today was another ordinary workday, so there would surely be no situation where Xavier should feel such a way.
There had been a string of quiet days at the Hunters Association that meant that Team Alpha could finally make use of their office. Namely you and Xavier, who usually were assigned to field missions. Your neglected chair squeaked under your weight as you stretched your body, lifting your arms high into the air then relaxing. Twirling the pen in your hand, the words on page about recent energy fluctuations seemed to swirl in your vision. Xavier turned from his own desk to observe you.
“I’m going to get a drink from the vending machine.” He stood up, the wheels of his chair clattering against the hard floor. “Do you want one too?”
“Green tea, please,” you replied.
“Warm or cold?”
“Cold,” you decided. You clapped your hands against your face, squishing your cheeks. “I need to shock my system to wake it up.”
Xavier’s face broke into a smile. “Sounds like a good plan.”
Before he could walk away, a voice called out your name.
“Morning Y/N!”
Xavier narrowed his eyes slightly at the approaching man.
He was tall (though not as tall as himself), with ashy hair precisely tousled to reveal his forehead, and friendly eyes. Xavier’s senses heightened in the same way as they would in a battle with a Wanderer. The unfamiliar man had greeted you with such familiarity. Only two words had been spoken, yet it was enough to irk Xavier. If he had called you less kindly, that would have helped to lower his guard.
To his surprise, the man turned his attention towards him.
“Ah, you must be Xavier! I’ve heard much about you.” He extended his hand. “I’m Andrew, head of the Data Analysis sector.”
Xavier stared at Andrew’s hand for a moment—blinking and discerning. Head of Data Analysis… Is this some kind of power move? He gave the hand a brusque shake.
“Excuse me, I need to get some drinks for the two of us,” he said, turning on his heel and walking away to the office’s break room.
Andrew furrowed his brows as he watched Xavier leave.
“Quite elusive, isn’t he?”
You shook your head.
“Maybe when you first meet him. But once you get to know him, you’ll see just how reliable he is.”
The tenderness in your tone came unconsciously to you, but it always happened when you spoke about Xavier to others. Especially towards those who might misinterpret his neutral disposition.
Small talk continued over the next minute between you and Andrew, until he suddenly looked at you with a slight frown.
“There’s an eyelash on your face,” he said, pointing vaguely to the left side of your face.
You used your fingers to swipe across your skin, yet Andrew still shook his head.
“No, no. It’s right here.”
He brought his finger closer to show you exactly where it was.
The dull thud of plastic bottles falling to the ground could be heard a couple of metres beside you. A blinding light zipped through the air, alongside a gust of air that swept your hair back. Before you could even register what had caused this phenomenon, Xavier appeared between you and Andrew. Your wide eyes stared at his hand gripping Andrew’s wrist.
“Xavier?” you called in surprise.
Xavier seemed equally shocked at how instinctually he acted. One moment he had seen Andrew’s hand move closer to your face, and the next he was face-to-face with him.
“I-I don’t know what came over me.” He released Andrew from his iron hold. “I'm really sorry”.
With a small bow, Xavier braced himself, ready to receive the full brunt of anger from the Head of Data Analysis. He shuddered at the thought that this might be reported to Captain Jenna. Instead, Andrew shook his head calmly.
“Don’t worry about it.” He gave an understanding smile, observing your worried expression towards Xavier. “In fact, I do believe this was my bad.”
The abandoned green tea bottles rolled lazily beside the desks, and Andrew picked them up. “I’ll be heading off to my office now, I’ll see you two later.”
Handing the drinks to you and Xavier, you both expressed your thanks. As Andrew left, you turned to Xavier.
“Xavier,” you spoke slowly, “what exactly was that?”
He scratched his head and diverted his eyes from you.
“I saw he was getting too close, and my body moved faster than my head…”
It was hard not to react at how adorably guilty he looked.
What am I going to do with you? You thought, sighing in affectionate amusement.
“I know how it must have looked from afar, but there was just an eyelash on my face that Andrew was trying to point out,” you explained.
Again, you swiped a finger across your face. “I still don’t know where it is though.”
Your movements were halted as Xavier gently grasped your wrist. He leaned in close, examining your face. You felt his light touch against your eyelids as he took off the lash.
“You know, there’s a superstition about this,” he began, handing the lash to you.
“They say if you have a stray eyelash, you can use it to make a wish.”
He cleared his throat, the tips of his ears turning red believing his next words to perhaps sound a little childish. 
“So, I wanted to be the one who would give you that wish.”
RAFAYEL ⟡
Rafayel’s jealousy would make itself known to you the moment he felt it. Though he would hide it between clever, teasing remarks, it was cute to see how clingy he got when it happened. And there was no better situation to provoke such feelings than at a gala hosted by Flux Arts. Admittedly, it was difficult to get the artist himself to attend these gatherings that featured one of his own paintings, so Thomas had to devise a convincing reason for him to go. That reason, naturally, being you. If you were his plus one, Rafayel could certainly face any battle.
You stood in front of Rafayel’s painting now as he had left you for the moment to speak with Thomas. Even after being exposed to his work many times (both mid progress and completed) they still managed to instil awe within you.
“Fascinating, isn’t it?”
The voice pulled you back into the room, and you looked over at the stranger beside you. He appeared to be slightly older and was likely a wealthy, enthusiastic patron of the gala.
“Yes, it is,” you agreed. “It’s one of my favourites.”
In truth, you favoured it because you were there when Rafayel painted it. From start to finish, he had you at his side. Though abstract, upon closer inspection, one could extrapolate details of a city with glorious towers and vibrant, thriving coral. It held a special place in your heart.
The man’s eyes were glued to the painting.
“Rafayel truly is an artist you get once in a lifetime.”
You couldn’t help but smile at the sincerity in the gentleman’s compliment.
“It’s hypnotising to witness the scenes he creates,” he continued. “He seems to bare his soul in each painting.”
“He is quite an expressive man,” you commented, breathing a small laugh.
From picking out the perfect outfits to the perfect paint materials, passion infused every part of Rafayel’s life, including in his relationship with you. It was one of his greatest traits you adored about him.
The familiarity in your tone was lost on the man, who believed you to only be an admirer of the artist, and not an admirer of a different sort.
The conversation continued, and you discovered the man to be a professor of history. He had discovered Rafayel through his own interest in ancient civilisations such as Lemuria. You couldn’t help but beam with pride listening to the man speak so highly of Rafayel, and the impression his works had left on him. The man soon took his leave, thanking you for entertaining his enthusiastic ramblings.
You were so engrossed that you didn’t notice Rafayel with his arms folding behind you. He graciously gave you a few seconds to detect his presence. Though, his frown grew as you continued to be, supposedly, too starstruck from your earlier conversation with that stranger.
He cleared his throat loudly.
You spun around at the familiar voice.
“Raf! How long have you been standing there for?”
He shrugged with as much nonchalance as he could muster. However, anyone with two eyes could have guessed the annoyance on his face.
“Enough to hear the last bits of your conversation.” He strode to your side, arms still folded tight across his chest. “Found interesting company so soon after I left?”
You closed the gap between the two of you with a step, preparing to explain the true nature of that conversation. Not letting you interrupt his sulking, Rafayel continued,
“I need to be more wary. There are too many people here wanting to whisk you away from me.”
As soon as you walked into the gallery arm-in-arm, people’s eyes were drawn to the two of you. At his mention that you were the centre of attention, you had dismissed it, saying it was him everyone took interest in.
Tilting your head to the side, you placed your hands your hips, almost as if to say: Are you going to let me speak?
Rafayel quickly conceded, spluttering out his next question, “And why were you being so chummy with that stranger, anyway?”
“That stranger said he was a professor of history specialising in ancient cities, and that he’s been an admirer of your works for a long time,” you answered.
Poking at his cheek with your finger, you attempted to remove his pout that remained affixed on his face.
“I was being chummy because he was complimenting your work! It made me happy to hear that people have such high praise for you and your paintings.”
Rafayel’s pout disappeared.
“It just made me think… how proud I am to have you as my partner,” you smiled. “You leave a profound impression on people.”
Your words resonated in his head. He stood motionless, with only the slow blink of his eyes.
His lack of reaction made you flush.
“Ah, that was pretty cheesy, wasn’t it? I’m sorry–”
The apology stopped short in your throat as you were scooped into a tight hug. Rafayel’s arms wrapped around your waist. A few gala attendees looked over at the young couple with admiring gazes, wondering what could have happened that would cause such open affection.
Rafayel nuzzled his forehead into the curve of your neck, mumbling right by your ear, “Jeez, here I was trying to be jealous…”
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celestiamour · 4 months ago
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god, the graying beard, it's so fucking over for me
i need him more than i need air, i fear. i'm just a girl who is gnawing at the bars of my enclosure and chewing on him like a toy
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edit: THE GLASSES OMGGG
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bogcreacher · 4 months ago
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hey man love your comics! sorry people don’t treat you like a person
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moechies · 4 months ago
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“‘s okay, calm down pretty girl,” suna purrs.
you whine, suna’s fingers coming up to comb through the soft locks of your hair. his cock slips out from under you, missing your cunt before dragging across your thigh.
suna almost laughs; laughs at the naivety of your actions. how could a girl in her 20s not know how to sit on cock? but much less is expected from a virgin, he presumes.
he sees your pretty bulbs well up with tears in frustration, a light blush crawling up to your cheeks as you nibble on your bottom lip; so he decides to play it nice.
“i—i can’t! c—can’t do it, help me, rinnie!”
“shh,” he chuckles, pressing a plush kiss against your puffed cheek. “rinnie will teach you, okay?”
you huff, not in acceptance or denial; you want him to do it all! you want him to lay you down and take you there, and not have to go though all of this humiliation. but he insists; insists that it’ll hurt less, and it’ll feel better quicker. but truly, it’s just to see you like this.
all teary and frustrated, with the cutest pout on your face. he thinks you look like a doll.
“line yourself up with the tip,” he whispers, laying back once again, leaving all of the work for you. you do as you’re told, taking a hold of his cock with writhe, shaky fingers. you lift the heavy weight from his stomach, pointing the bulbous tip peripheral to your fat slit.
“g—good,” he breathes, a warm hand coming to envelop your shaky thigh. “now press the tip against your slit, like they’re kissin.’”
suna chuckles when you huff at his poor choice of words, but you do just so, lowering yourself onto his cock just so his cock head sits within your slit.
“almost there,” he groans at the mix of your twos juices from below, breathes shaky. surely it hadn’t been his first time, but this was so damn intimate. it made him nervous. “yeah, now press yourself onto him.”
and you do; feeling your walls clasp against the fat of his cock. it's overwhelming for the both of you; and he was sure you'd fail to get him inside again. "rin—!” you gasp, a lilt burn in your cunt. you want him to make it all go away. “b—burns, rin, help,”
he shushes you gently, both hands coming to support your giving thighs from under. it's too much pressure on his sweet girl, he knows. but it would've been such a pity to miss this sight; your eyes lidded, lips swollen and plush, and entire body flexed with a thin coat of sweat that paints you, and it makes you look like gold.
“that’s it , takin’ me so well, angel girl. mhm.” he sighs, lowering you to grind onto his tip. you whine at the intrusion, in disbelief that you’d have to take any more than this some day. it’s so thick.
“r—rin,” you cry, hips following the movements of his leading hands, “it feels s—so good!” you moan. oh, you’re distracting him, gorgeous girl. suna’s left hand slips from under, allowing your weight to pummel your cunt further onto his dick on accident.
“fuck, sorry baby.”
you squeal in a slight pain, fist clenching against his shoulder. you throw your head back unintentionally, throat dry with a hoarse gasp.
suna holds still, and it feels a lot better once you’ve settled down. “feels better angel? c’mon, tell rin.” you mewl in content, giving him a short peck on the lips. “m-mhm, feels better.. hnn—“
you’re a sweet little thing, and he adores every single inch of you.
“kay, doll. ‘s time to make rinnie feel good too, okay ?”
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 5 months ago
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sometimes katsuki gets really dramatic (but let’s be fr when isn’t he) and acts like you ghosted him when you don’t respond to his texts in thirty minutes. not in a creepy way, just in a dramatic, needy way.
he’s not worried or anything, he checks his phone every few minutes to see if any texts from you have come in. it’s a force of habit, because you usually respond pretty quickly but after a while it gets a little weird. and then he sends you a text and another one and unconsciously he starts spamming you a bit. again, not in a creepy way. just an annoying needy whiny dramatic baby, way.
“what’s up, bakubro ? you keep checking your phone.” katsuki doesn’t look at kirishima, eyes glued to his phone when he just grunts out an “‘m fine.”
and then kaminari just has to open his big mouth. his voice playful as he speaks “uh oh, trouble in paradiseee~?” katsuki scoffs, telling the blonde to fuck off.
and he isn’t worried..not at all. until he thinks about it and maybe there was trouble in paradise ?? were you maybe ignoring him ? what’d he do ?
you look up from your notebook at the sound of your phone vibrating. oh, it’s katsuki ! you smile just seeing his contact pop up.
“hi, katsu !”
silence, no response. you try again.
“…hello ?”
you hear a scoff from the other end, and some shuffling before your boyfriend graces you with an answer. “look at your phone, you idiot.”
“hello, katsu.” you snort. “yeah, yeah. hi.” you can practically hear the roll of his eyes through the phone, you giggle and your boyfriend huffs through the speaker.
it’s then that you see the wall of texts from him “oh, did you text me ? my bad i was studying.”
there’s a faint sigh of relief “‘s fine.”
“were you worried ?” you tease.
“fuck no. just—“ a sudden pause then katsuki grumbles “answer my texts next time, moron. bye. don’t overdo it while studying or i’ll kill you.”
“meanie !” you giggle, and when he hangs up you send him a text.
we can study together next time, just so you don’t flip out again 💗😚
katsuki scoffs a mean laugh, then sends you a middle finger.
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watchingwisteria · 1 year ago
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listen there really was just something about how in the book, snow’s 3-page descent from hesitant lover boy to deluded mfer happens entirely in his mind. lucy gray gives him no indication whatsoever that she suspects him, that she’s going to leave or betray him. he’s just sitting quietly in the cabin waiting for her to return when that seed of calculated suspicion, which he has needed to survive the capitol, takes a hold of him and chokes the life out of any goodness left inside him. it really drives home your terror as a reader that “oh my god did he kill her? did she escape? what happened to her? why would he even think that?” in a way that when the movie had to adjust for visualization it lost some of that holy shit this guy has lost it emphasis.
#seeing some discourse and im not saying lucy grey didnt know#im saying she never dropped the kind of hints that she knew like she did in the movie#or if she did snow isnt worried about them until he very suddenly is consumed by them#snow is not concerned about whether or not she believed him. of course she did! hes snow!#but then shes gone…. for a while……#and its the sudden immediate drastic unravelling that comes across so clearly in the book#that i knew wouldn’t translate to screen yet still cant help but miss#the hunger games#coriolanus snow#tbosas#lucy gray baird#not a crime or anything just a note that i cannot stop thinking about#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#this is all from memory of reading it quite a while ago. so maybe 3 pages is an exaggeration#but i remember it happening VERY quickly and without much external cause#like we as the reader have no indication as to whether shes nearby or not.#snow has no idea either. he just SUSPECTS. and his suspicion breeds the hatred that has been bubbling inside him all this time#he hates how she undoes him. he hates that he WOULD run away with her if shed let him keep his secrets#and he HATES more than anything that she makes him WANT to tell his secrets#he wants to be vulnerable and reveal the ugly nasty parts about himself and still be loved#but he does not let himself and it is everyone’s downfall#he chooses cruelty bc it is easy and familiar and makes him feel more powerful than the vulnerable give and take that real love requires
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woahjo · 6 months ago
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i don't talk about it often about how obsessed i am with husband katsuki not being all too concerned with informing the press of things and who prefers to keep things private.
like.. he married you last spring at a small, intimate ceremony held with close family and friends. izuku was his best man, your young niece was the flower girl who walked starstruck up to the altar and then asked to shake kiri's hand because she's a big fan. and the two of you were married. no fuss, no big press release, nothing.
katsuki is usually pretty uptight about what people see. of course, there have been rumors about who he dates, or rather, who he doesn't date. people love to imagine him as a heartbreaker for some reason, even if he's likely one of the farthest things from it. katsuki generally preferred to keep you out of the spotlight when you were dating though. you work at the agency and it was a mutual decision for a long while because the two of you figured that keeping things under wraps would mean it would be easier to actually focus on the relationship.
when you're finally married though, the two of you make the decision to just say fuck it. when out for groceries with you one evening, he's approached by the press. they hold microphones in his face and he grunts, frowning as he pushes the cart full of groceries to the car with you in tow. this is incredibly unprofessional and they're being unusually pushy this afternoon.
"dynamight! who's this you're with today?"
"a new fling perhaps?"
"have you finally decided to take a partner?"
he frowns at them furrowing his eyebrows and turning around. katsuki gives them a look as if they're stupid.
"that's my wife," he says plainly, as if it's common knowledge.
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captain-joongz · 8 days ago
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hey, so i found your fic drangonheart in a fanfic recommendations post, i clicked on it thinking it wouldn't be that kind of thing but just a story for me to read while i was bored and had nothing to do
but oh my god i was completely wrong, just two chapters in and i'm already obsessed
i'm not normally a big fan of stories written in the first person, but even that my brain ignored while i was reading, the dedication to the lore, the story in general, the characters, my god how perfect, i'm looking forward to the next update!!! kisses from brazil
Oh thank you so much!!! That means the world to me ❤️
I'm so glad you were able to immerse yourself and fall in love with the story, that's all I've hoped for when i wrote it hehe
I hope that new chapters continue to bring you happiness! Thank you for reading, sweet anon ❤️
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obsesssedblerd · 3 months ago
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when you and satoru gojo started dating and agreed to take it slow, the first thing that you got used to was the fact that his infinity was up 24/7. though you understood and never brought it up, part of you yearned to feel his skin and not the invisible shield that kept him from the rest of the world.
then, during one beautiful evening after a lovely picnic date, you're comfortably lying against his chest—against that familiar shield, until you realize that you aren't.
as he's adorably rambling about something funny that happened while he was teaching the second years, you notice that you feel the material of his jacket against your cheek. then, you realize that the comforting scent you've been inhaling is his cologne. curious, you gently grasp one of his hands that's closest to you, and your heart practically skips a beat when you feel the warmth of his palm for the first time.
satoru senses your excitement and quietly intertwines your fingers with his. it's also his first time touching you without infinity activated, and he wants to savor it. his thumb brushes soothing patterns on your hand, and you don't even realize how hard you're grinning until you feel the strain in your cheeks.
he chuckles, and you look up to see him staring at you, blindfold raised and his blue eyes soft with adoration. "what's got you cheesin' like that, pretty girl?"
you shrug, your smile unwavering. "just thinking about how perfect my boyfriend is."
satoru stares at you for a little while longer, then tilts his head a bit lower. you feel his lips gently press against your forehead, then against your lips, feather-light and brief. the kiss is short, but it's absolutely perfect for the first time.
you snuggle against satoru, and his other hand strokes your soft face. "that's good," he finally replies, "because i'm always thinking about how lovely my girlfriend is."
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ashonheavenscloud · 9 months ago
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AHHHHHH😭😭😭 this is so sweet of you to say?? i’m so glad i could convey the nervous feeling of firsts, thank you so much for reading and leaving these lovely comments🥺
overthinking || h. hyunjin
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⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ contents: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader, friends to lovers, fluff with tension tension tension, mutual obsession!! reader makes hyunjin very very nervous
⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ word count: 1.7K
⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ warnings: none
⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ a/n: short lil hyunjin repost!! this was well loved before, so hopefully it’s still up to par <3 enjoyyy~
now playing - overthinking - offonoff
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Hyunjin knew he was overthinking it.
Your hand gently gripped his own, fitting there perfectly like a glove. Your eyes were glued to the screen in front of you, a tender moment from your latest favourite K-drama distracting you from the very thing that Hyunjin couldn’t for the life of him stop thinking about. 
Your hand was so much smaller than his. Your nails were freshly painted lilac, and he couldn’t stop staring at the small details of your hand as the drama continued on. You’d suddenly clutched his hand when the girl on screen had started to cry, the male lead attempting to comfort her in the most gentle manner. Hyunjin wasn’t sure what had happened next; as soon as you’d grabbed his hand, the words muffled and his eyes shifted and his very skin felt on fire, sparks shooting through him from where you touched. He couldn’t stop staring at you, the way you looked in the dim light, eyes filled with the screen’s reflection, mouth slightly parted as you watched with extreme focus.
He’d waited for you to let go. Surely once the initial shock of the scene wore off, you would realize and pull away. But as the minutes stretched on, and more scenes unfolded on the TV, your hand remained firmly in his. 
He loved how your hand felt in his.
Still, he almost wished you would pull away. His heart was hammering with dangerous volume, and he could feel the heat crawling over the back of his neck as his eyes continued to drink you in. His palms were growing sweaty, and he swore that soon the rest of him would be unbearably hot. He kicked off the blanket around him, praying it would help. Cool air greeted him, and so did your puzzled eyes, glancing away from the screen momentarily to look at Hyunjin.
“You okay?”
No. I want to pin you to this very couch and kiss you senseless. “Yeah, fine. Just hot.” He managed, desperately hoping that you would finally release his hand before he snapped. Instead, your eyes trailed to your fingers twisted together, and looked back to the screen.
And Hyunjin was back to looking at your hands moulded together, wondering why you hadn’t pulled away.
Surely he was overthinking. It was just your hand, after all. You’d been friends for years, and your love of skinship had always been obviously shown. So why did today feel different? Why did this simple touch send him spiraling, mind racing to figure out what the hell you wanted with him??
He’d tried for months to understand your feelings for him. Scrutinizing every little thing-shoulder taps and smiles, light conversation and sparkling eyes-to figure it out. Did you also find yourself distracted by his smile, the way he suddenly forgot what he was going to say when you smiled at him? Did you also get lost in his eyes, the way he was content to swim in yours for endless hours, day and night? And did you also wish you had the courage to say something about it, just like Hyunjin did when he looked up from your hands intertwined to find your eyes focused on him?
And words were gone. Just scattered fragments of worry and panic and desire and hope. He knew what he wanted. And he was hanging on a thread, a thread that was fraying and ready to snap at any moment. At any moment.
The soulful music of the drama flitted from the screen, slow and soft but Hyunjin could hardly hear it as you lifted your joined hands to where both of you could see them. Hyunjin felt his heart leap, as your eyes trailed back to him. You allowed both of your hands to drop down again, and whispered something that set every part of Hyunjin to flame.
“Just kiss me or something.”
Silence for a beat as the words processed, Hyunjin’s heart jolting into hummingbird mode. And then he was slowly pulling you to him, lips capturing yours roughly. You tasted faintly of the sweet chocolate you’d been eating together a minute ago, and Hyunjin couldn’t help himself from slowly biting your bottom lip, pulling gently as you gripped his shirt tightly in fists, bringing him closer to your warmth. The TV drama faded away, the music growing dim as Hyunjin’s mind flew into a frenzy, thoughts and worries bombarding his mind as he kissed you. You had hundreds of butterflies gathering in the pit of his stomach, and his heart pounding like a drum beat, setting a rhythm, a tempo for how he moved his mouth over yours, tongue slipping into your mouth to further taste you, you, you.
A voice was screaming in the back of his head: am I doing this right? Are you enjoying this as much as me? What if I’m not good enough? What if you’re uncomfortable, or-
You were moving closer and he wished he knew what to do with his hands, and his legs folded on the couch. Your hand had dropped his own at some point, fingers pressing over his jawline. The other hand gripped his shoulder, as you moved even closer-practically on his lap, and Hyunjin wished he knew what to do about that too.
He was overthinking, he knew. Every touch of yours, the firm pressure of your digits tracing his skin, the feel of your warm lips moving against his-moving with his. He let it all happen, even while hardly knowing what he was doing. He swore he had been set on fire, his very nerves roaring ablaze with energy and a hunger that was almost overwhelming. Still he couldn’t stop thinking.
He pulled back, immediately hating the inches of space between your lips while simultaneously wishing to move farther from you and the temptation it was to dive back in.
He was terrified.
“Hyunjin…” you sounded slightly breathless, and confused. Your eyes opened and found his, searching the dark pools for some hint of a problem. “What’s wrong?”
He wanted to tell you everything running through his head, but with your eyes watching his now, his mouth refused to open. A hollow pit formed in his stomach of deep disappointment in himself. What was the matter with him? Why didn’t he just let go and take this step? He’d wanted this for ages-the opportunity to feel your body against his, held in his arms, mouths locked together in a heated embrace. And he’d loved the feeling just now; so what was the problem?
You were watching him, concerns filling your wide eyes. Despite his running thoughts, he found himself admiring you just like he always did. Your sweetness, your care for him. It was so endearing to see you worry, to feel your hand squeeze his in an attempt to keep him grounded and remind him of your presence. Suddenly he knew why he couldn’t stop worrying.
“I just want to love you right.” He confessed softly, gaze finally focusing on your eyes. He found warmth there, and even more as you slowly smiled, and he could see the adoration in your eyes. His heart leaped, treasuring the fact that you were looking at him like that. He hurried on, “I want you to be comfortable. I want-” he took a breath in, as you patiently waited for him to finish. “I want to do this right, you know?”
This was unmarked territory for him-for you too, he knew. He wondered if you felt the same kind of nerves, too.
“I know.” You confirmed, a small smile gracing your face, as you lifted your fingers to touch his cheek gently. “Me too.”
Adoration shone in your eyes so clearly in that moment that it left Hyunjin slightly breathless. The soft crinkles by the corners of your eyes caught his gaze and he felt some tension release from his body. You were nervous too-and somehow that made him feel less so.
“I’ve liked you forever.” Hyunjin blurted, feeling himself blush as the words left his mouth, and your smile widened. “I don’t want to mess this up.”
Your smile was so pretty. He loved how he could immediately tell how genuine that smile was. You meant every word when you said, “I know you won’t. Just take it slow. It’ll be okay.”
Hyunjin couldn’t help but smile back, even though his heart still raced. But if you believed in him-in both of you-surely he could believe in the two of you as well.
He squeezed your hand, dipping his head to lightly kiss your lips, lingering for a moment before pulling back. “Okay.” He whispered.
He loved the dazed gaze of your eyes, loved the fact that he had that effect on you. 
“Okay?” You murmured back. 
His only response was to kiss you again, harder this time, mind a flurry of thoughts and emotions that grew hazy when you kissed him back. It was just as addicting as before, despite the worries coming back. Your fingers traced the skin of his collarbone, automatically making him shiver, and he wondered what he should do now.
And here the answer was so painfully clear in that moment that he couldn’t believe he hadn’t considered it before. Don’t think, Hyunjin. Just feel.
He breathed in your scent as he pulled back to look at your face-every beautiful detail he’d memorized with his eyes-before setting to work memorizing them with his mouth, lips pressing against the soft skin of your cheeks, your forehead, your eyelids that flickered at his gentle touch. Slowly he let go of the worries, banishing them as he took your face in his hands and pulled you right to him, connecting your lips again. A muffled sigh of content escaped the corners of your mouth, roiling inside Hyunjin with an insane kind of pleasure. He grew slowly more confident, letting his tongue slide into your mouth again and pressing your back to the couch, just like he’d wanted. He felt your hands grip his shirt, press to his chest; he felt your body beneath his own, its warmth under his skin. He felt your mouth move with his, felt your smooth hair with his fingers, felt every inch of you without any more thoughts to intrude.
He let desire flood his body and take over his senses as he took his time loving you; slowly, surely, sweetly.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
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dilf-docs · 1 month ago
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All Roads Lead To Rome
pedro pascal x younger!reader
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summary: your boyfriend swears he isn't annoyed at your little surprise visit on the set of gladiator II; you might have to help him release his anger, one way... or another.
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (BARK BARK BARK), smut, p. in v., bit of exhibition kink cause they fuck on his trailer, he swears he's mad but he just wants head, oral (m. receiving), he also uses his armor and skirt while at it bc its hot and not bc i totally want that to happen to me or smth!!!, brat taming, orgasm denial, breeding and daddy kink lowkey, i'm so down bad for him so there's fluff!!! + pedro being whipped cause that's exactly what i want in my men, the cast makes cameos bc i love them!!! use of spanish (i'm latina so don't even try me), pedro wearing a skirt tehee
word count: 3,519 words
side note: i'm about as FERAL and horny as much as one could be!!! damn u pedro, making me walk out in the middle of class and walk on foot to the nearest theather for an early gladiator II screening (bc they're cheaper and i'm a jobless broke student lmao) that mind u it's my first solo trip to the movies but it's okay!!!! nobody interrupt me on my horny dilf hours amirite I TELL U that cinema was almost empty: just me, pedro and hey there's a spot if u wanna join mescal (look at my blog banner IYKYK) so yeah!!!! enjoy this porn lovechild that steemed from it; my pedro renaissance that'd been asleep since tlou dropped AWAKES (u don't get it, i literally watched narcos just for him) i'm so fr i need this man BIBLICALLY!!
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"Lemme guess, that's her, right?"
Pedro looks up from his phone, slightly red and embarrassed. He would blame the color on the sun, and as an actor, fake his way out.
"No idea what you're talking about, Paul"
The young man chuckles.
"I mean, every break we get, you take your chair, sit the farthest and pull your phone with the most ridiculous grin I've ever seen. I'm afraid to tell you, friend, you aren't as slick as you think"
He leans back against the chair, covering his face with his large palm.
"At least I tried" he finds no point in lying anymore, "seems like I'm addicted, but if it wasn't for y/n, I wouldn't touch it"
"I'm curious, though" Paul scoots his chair closer, "who texts who? You or her?"
"Me" he answers, but then corrects himself quickly, a bit ashamed of how that makes him sound, "but it's mostly her first".
"Right" he doesn't sound convinced, rather curious and annoyed, something he's too old and tired for, "I don't believe you"
He's about to lock his phone, but the wallpaper (a selfie with you) would probably earn him another mock from Mescal.
"Too bad I don't need you to"
Before he can do so, the irish man yanks his phone away.
"Give it back!" he shouts, earning a few glances from the crew around them, "what are you, ten?"
"No, twenty-eight" they look like kids bickering. "No need to fight me, Mr. Pascal, they haven't taught us the new fighting choreography yet" he mocks, before the phone chimes; they both stop at the sound.
"What does this mean?" Paul asks. "Malta's nice" he reads out loud, "were you talking about possible future vacations? I might have to tag along"
He doesn't follow the man's joke, instead, looking at the message on your chat. Malta's nice, says the little cryptic message, and yes―it is cryptic, because you were just talking about missing each other and some other corny stuff he'd take to his grave. Not vacations, and certainly, not about the european island, which happens to also be the place were he's filming his latest movie.
"No, we weren't" he replies confused, "what do you think it means?"
"Well, obviously, you boys don't know anything" May pops up from behind, laughing.
"Were you eavesdropping?" he asks playfully, albeit, a little offended.
"No, you guys are just too loud" she replies nonchalant. "Besides, you aren't very good at hiding it, either"
"That's what I said!" Paul backs, laughing on his face.
"Stop being misterious and just drop it"
"It means" she pauses―laughing at her own little dramatic effect, "that you're getting a visit soon"
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When you met Pedro, you were working in The Last Of Us. Nothing fancy, just part of the technical cast of the show: helping with the filming and stuff.
During those months, it was easy to find yourself falling for the main star (alongside Bella Ramsey), especially when you spent months behind a camera, capturing all of his perfect features; learning them by memory until you could draw them without seeing his face.
Yes, you had fallen for the older man, because it was as natural as breathing; easy as being alive―the fall so gentle and so easy, it was hard to know when the feelings started. You just woke up one day, feeling different.
You liked to act up―always had what you wanted, and times had changed (so it's not like he had to ask first): why not? Which is why during your last day of shooting you took some liquid courage on your veins and went up his way. It was at a little gathering the crew you've grown to call family organized, while wearing your favorite and tightest dress, that you approached him.
It surprised you that he even recognized you, but that's who he was: warm, welcoming and caring.
To augment the surprise, turns out he had eyed you already, but was too shy to do anything. Yes, the worlds most famous Chilean man. It did stroke your ego, and maybe that's why you feel like most of the time, you've got the upper hand on your relationship, despite the years in between.
Still, you feel like the last message you just sent was a bit too blunt. Now you sit at the tiny airport, pondering your next move.
You know your boyfriend isn't exactly the type to scold or get mad―despite his strong figure, but going against the only thing he asked you might test him. Which is why you feel nervous, despite the happiness around you, everyone in the airport looking straight out of a picture perfect summer edition magazine.
And your theory is proven exactly right when you arrive impromptu at the Gladiator II set: making heads turn and guards almost kick you out, thinking you're a fan.
"You don't get it!" you protest, "he's my boyfriend".
"Sure", they laugh on your face. "you're not the first to say that".
"She's not lying" oh, how you love that gravely voice. But not today: not when he sounds like a parent scolding a naive child. Not when his eyes bore into you, slightly irritated.
So now he's dragging you among the set, right to were his trailer is.
"Aren't you going to introduce me?" you ask, puffing your cheeks out in annoyance. He keeps dragging you by the arm, without sparing a glance in your way. Who does he think he is? "I wanted to tell Paul he made me cry―twice. You know I don't play about Normal People and Aftersun"
"But you do seem to play about my orders" he grunts out, opening the door to his trailer. The sunlight reflects against the white, slightly bothering your eyes with its shine, contrary to your boyfriend's gloomy behaviour.
"Are you being serious right now? You're not my dad to scold me. I just wanted to surprise you" you stand still, refusing to get inside. Pedro knows your character tends to be stubborn, and thought he finds it hot to reel you up sometimes, there are other times where he can't just stand that juvenile spirit of rage you tend to have when things don't go the way you want them to. "What's gotten into you?"
"I could ask you the same" he mocks. "Get inside. Now"
"Rude" you scoff, but obey regardless, and he breathes out relieved you didn't do a scene like last time; he still can't show his face on that restaurant to this day.
"I thought you'd be happy to see me" you say a tad bit dissapointed, and Pascal feels the pissed off feelings clouding his brain start to dissipate.
"I do, amor" he sighs, "just hate to see you do things I tell you not to; waltzing in here like you own the place".
You don't see the mistake, though. What's wrong with wanting to do a little surprise? It's not like you were a stalker or something; just a very clingy girlfriend who happens to miss her boyfriend.
"So, you're not mad?" you venture, "tell me you're not embarrassed"
He looks at you, the fondness of his gaze betraying him.
"I'm not the one wearing a skirt while trying to sound intimidating" you joke while caressing the crook of his nose, knowing you always get on his good side. Being mad isn't something that lasts, "if anyone should be embarrassed, that's you"
"Are you saying I shouldn't wear one because I'm a man?" your boyfriend looks offended, "Have you forgotten the movie I'm starring in? People feared the skirt-wearing Roman army"
"Well, I'm not intimidated" you stand defiant, and something dark tints his brown eyes. You can feel the excitement begin pooling in your stomach.
"You're not?" he grips your wrists and yanks you to him, then holds your chin, tilting your head between his calloused fingers. "Well, cariño, you should be"
Your body slams against one of the trailers walls, and you have to suppress a whine.
"You must be punished for what you did today"
You give him a doe-eye look, pretending to be all innocent, as if you weren't enjoying the punishment.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I've been a good girl"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about" he clicks his tongue, "don't play dumb with me"
"I just came to visit you" you murmur, voice husky against his ear. He grunts, and with the proximity, his hard-on rasps against your bare legs, only partly covered by the flowy summer dress you're wearing, "is that so bad?"
"It is. Has sido mala, cariño" his hand travels down under your dress, carresing with his large palm the silhoutte of your ass. The rings on his fingers create a shock, cold metal against your warm sun-bathed skin. "Naughty girl"
"I promise I'll be good, papi" you purr, using that honeyed voice of yours that makes it hard: hard to say no and hard between his pants.
Pedro sits on a small couch he has inside the trailer, guiding you with his hand enveloped around yours, motioning you to follow with a care so soft, you'd doubt he's about to do to you what he is about to do to you. He pulls you across his lap, smiling (God, you love his smile) as your stomach presses against his tights.
"Don't worry" he breathes low, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll make you a good girl. Tell me, aren't you?"
You swallow, "I am"
He moves the panties easily to the side, rubbing your pussy a little. He then spanks it softly, making you mewl at the sting.
Pedro continues to trace over it, "Are you sure about that?"
"N-no" you shiver in delight, resolve dissolving as quick as it came. "I'm naughty"
"It's good to be aware" he murmurs, "Dilo otra vez"
"I'm a naughty girl"
He lifts your head by your hair. "Tell me what you did"
"Disobeyed your orders, coming to the set" you whisper. He lets go of your hair, his hands traveling down again, slowly teasingly rubbing your pussy while he humms.
"You were a little brat, amor"
You whimpered and mewled in delight. "I was a very naughty brat"
He pushed his fingers inside you, plunging his fingers into your pussy.
"Look at you. You're soaking wet" he pumped his fingers in you, making you moan, "Is that why you came to see me? Couldn't wait any longer for daddy to be inside of you?"
You bucked a little, making him stop. He drags his fingers out, causing you to beg for him to go back.
"Answer my question you greedy thing" He leaned closer to your ear. "Did you need my cock this much?"
You whimper, "I do! Missed you so much"
He pushed his fingers back into you, provoking a moan out of you.
"You're always so needy for me" your core tenses, making you shiver. "How badly do you want me? Tell me"
You whimpered "Badly, papi"
"Say it" his face contorts in satisfaction at your pathethic display; crying little mess, "Who's cock, fingers and mouth make you feel good?"
You can't think at this point, your brain fuzzy and pussy hot, leaking. You kiss his lips, moaning against them, "you!"
"Just me, yes? Nobody else can make you feel this good?"
"No one!"
You involuntarily roll your hips to aid you in pleasure, yet Pedro stops you just before you can reach your orgasm.
"Little brat." he tuts, making you groan. "Did you think I'd let you? You were naughty today, baby"
You huff in annoyance, used to having your way.
"That's your punishment"
"But I'll behave" you mewl against his ear, "I promise"
“Good, because I'm planning on fucking your brains out” his hot breathe whispers in your ear seductively, trying his best not to slur the words at the drunken haze that your arousal provokes in him, "but you have to help me first"
You get on your knees, looking at the garment he's wearing. The skirt and general costume makes this all the more hot, mouth watering at the sight. You raise the skirt, glancing at the briefs; just seeing his dick strained against the fabric makes you wet in anticipation.
He sees the pleasure bore into your orbs, and before you do any dirty idea of yours, he's already warning:
"You have to take this off, what if we-"
"Alright" you cut him off, "but the skirt stays"
"Sigue, pues" he growls, voice low yet demanding, following you in your little game.
As you pull the briefs down, his erection springs out enthusiastically, slapping up against his lower abdomen. You shifted your gaze up to meet his, his eyelids heavy and his proud smirk driving you absolutely wild.
"That's right" he chokes out, "show me how much you missed it"
You give him a proud lick, and Pedro hisses at the moment his preseminal fluid goes in between your hungry lips.
Your tongue darts to the head of his cock, running over it several times before bobbing your head down, taking most of him in your mouth. He keeps praising as you pump the base of his cock with your hand. Your head bobs, yet you peek up to hear Pascal's little sounds and facial expression, a motivation so intimate in the way his brows furrow and eyes roll, mouth agape at your movements while his lip suck on those pretty lips of his. It makes you keep going. With every bob you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, before slowly moving your way back up to the tip, increasing your suction the closer to his head you got. A throaty moan escapes the man above you when you now focus on the final lick, making him closer to coming, all while maintaining eye contact the entire way through.
"Don't do that" he rasps, yanking you by the hair again, as of punishment, but he knows you enjoy it, "you promised you'd be good"
You can't answer, so instead, you reach the head of his cock again, and now his eyes roll back, mumbling profanities that sound like heaven.
"Do you want them to hear us, brat? Qué necia eres" he manages to chastise while moaning.
You feel his dick stuck in your throat, and the way he's about to come; you think that after some time dating, you know him well enough.
You're about to leave with your mouth when he stops you.
"No" your eyes open in shock, "what? Did you think your punishment is over?" Pedro laughs, "don't look at me like that. Like you have never done it before"
He keeps you in place by the hair, the rings prickling against your scalp. You feel his muscles tense up, and before you can think anything else thick and hot shots of cum invade your mouth, making it sticky and warm.
"Don't pretend you don't like it" his voice goes dark, husky. "Swallow it all. Te han enseñado a no desperdiciar nada, ¿verdad? Show me your good manners, then"
When you pull out, your throat feels raspy.
"You gotta reward me" you cough out.
"I promised, didn't I?" his fingers trace your face delicately, with adoration.
"It's all about duty, General Acacius" you purr, and the dick springs out again. Hard.
"Princess..." he warns.
"For the glory of Rome" you joke and laugh, then cough, as your throat is still sore.
"Have you been reading my script?" as you avoid to answer, he just chuckles, "ay, nena"
"C'mere" he motions, and you sit on his lap again. Pedro lifts your dress, exploring the curve of your ass. There's anticipation as he hooks his finger around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to access your core.
"Fuck" you squirm at his touch, grinding your freed cunt against his hard cock. He grabs you by the hip, adjusting you right on his lap.
"You taste so good" he kisses down your throat, ending at the chest were your tits peak.
"Want them?" you offer, pulling your dress down. He kisses them, gently nipping at your perked up nipples.
A wave of pleasure courses through you, and with whines and moans, you show how desperate you are, the hunger making the meal taste better. After all those weeks missing him, you just want him to fuck you senseless.
His lips are rosy and swollen against yours, mouths clashing; starved of the yearned contact. Truth is, no matter how much you know how to touch yourself, it'll never be the same as having his hard cock tear through your tight folds.
Pedro easily aligns his leaking cock with your uncovered pussy, all while mantaining the kiss. He pushes down on you, your dripping cunt taking all of his rock-hard cock, fingers holding onto the soft brown grey sprinkled locs.
"Pedro" you cry out his name, full of ecstasy as the stretch burns so sweetly. His low grunts only fuel your desire.
You trace with your eyes his body, now bare without the upper part of the costume: his pecs and abs, flexing with every pump. With now free hands, your fingers travel to softly caress his stomach, even if your tits are jiggling and the pace is rather frenetic.
"I miss your tummy" you pout.
"I miss eating too" he whispers out, tiredly. He's reminded of his old age, forgetting about it as soon as you two kiss, because you bring out a stamina he thinks he doesn't have anymore; almost animalistic. His bones creak and adding the tiring filming day under the hot sun, he feels his body start to give up, the orgams closer and closer.
"No matter how you look" you clash your lips onto his, the adoration translating through the smile you press against, a trail of saliva that symbolizes how interwined you are, "you always look so fucking good"
He blushes, feeling like a stupid school boy with a crush. What did he even do to deserve you? Never thought a pretty young wild thing like you would even spare a glance on his way, but now you're taking all of his cock inside with such greed yet loom into his eyes with a love he's only dreamed of.
You're real, and his.
As soon as those words leave your mouth your orgasm spills over him, some of it dripping onto the skirt, making him curse. You can't stop, still meeting his thrusts halfway, despite your trembling body after reaching your high.
"Mierda" he groans against your mouth,
You feel yourself collapsing on top of him, the weight of the jet lag catching up.
"Getting tired, baby?" he coos. "Shit, and I thought I was old"
"You are" you reply back; you can never not have the last word. And he lets you, because, God, doesn't he love you? He pretends to look offended by it, but the way your eyes shine tell him you didn't mean it that way. "You and your white hairs" tracing over his moustache, a soft hand combing through his locks, "These wrinkles... don't you know how much I love them? how much I love you?"
"And you have no idea how much I love you" he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling it coming through. "God, wanna make you mine. Sólo mía" his pace slows. It's coming, and yes, you will take it all. "Wanna make you a baby, mami. Want you to take it all like the good girl you are"
When he comes, filling you with burning hot cum until you feel like you might burst, you're numb. But there's a feeling so content that pools warmth in your chest, that you can't say anything else, resting your head against his bare chest, both covered in sticky sweat.
"No sé cómo voy a explicar esto" he speaks through ragged breathes, and you can only smirk, "a squirted and cummed roman skirt".
"That isn't my problem" he scoffs, and you feel your head rise against the movement, earning a laugh out of you, "I'm not part of the movie"
"You'd sure think so, with the way you walked in here"
You roll your eyes, face hidden against his chest, "can you let that go?"
"You're right" he pulls you closer to him, hand enveloping you behind your bare back. The quiet doesn't bother you as you lie closer to his chest, his heartbeat the only thing you need to be at peace, "I think punishment time is over. Think you've learned your lesson"
"Then, how about we go out? I've heard Malta's beaches are pretty"
"Relájate, cariño. Seems you've gotten your energy back" he quips, then kisses your forehead. "We need to wait for everyone to get out"
"That embarrased you are of me?" you joke.
"No" he can already imagine his fellow cast members making fun of him, starting with Paul and Joseph when they see you and Connie who will totally notice the fun sticky stains on the costume, "but embarrased of the explanation I'll have to give"
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logansdoe · 8 days ago
Text
Logan with someone who doesn't moan easily. He would take it as a challenge to make those pretty sounds leave your lips. Either willingly or forced, he'll pull something out.
"I know you can baby, come on—", he'd growl. His hand moving between your legs. The most he has heard in the last 20 minutes is your heavy breathing, as much as that satisfies him, and you. He needed more.
His fingers worked. Slow at first, drawing tight circles until the slick noises filled the empty air. His thick fingers making your breath hitch at first before a shaky exhale. Not good enough.
Then his fingers would start to get faster. Dragging, pressing them against your inner walls before plunging them again. He was not gonna drop this. He needed his sweet girl to make noises.
Finally, soft whispers would leave your lips. Of his name, said like a chant. In rows, over and over before you crumble. But his hands still moving. Making your hips squirm off of the bed. The grip on the pillow leaving to dig into his wrist, trying to push it away. To get a moment to calm down.
Your eyes opening to look up at him, his eyes fixed on yours. Determined. You can already feel the tight pull again. Your brows furrowed. Your body still sensitive, not given a moment to relax.
Finally— a soft mewl leaving your lips. He knew he could get you. It was small, quiet but he heard it. Pulling the pleasure out of you for the second time. This time, soft noises came out along with your heavy breaths.
It was like opening treasure for Logan and he wasn't stopping until his beautiful girls voice was echoing the closed walls.
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