#my hair is getting so goddamn long why | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sh1-n0bu · 7 months ago

Text

♡︎ 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 ♡︎

characters: AFAB!sub!jing yuan, dan heng, blade x gn!dom!reader

warnings: AFAB characters, overstimulation, headcannon+small drabble format, praise, degrading, cock/strap traditions, dacryphilia, usage of bullet vibrator, slight brat taming, nipple stimulation, fingering, oral, cervix fucking, begging, squirting, clit pinching, cock/strap warming, size kink, belly bulge, breeding, creampie, mating press, full nelson, just a personal headcannon of how i think they would act when overstimulated

notes: someone wrote “nobody writes ahegao quite like nobu does” in one of their repost tags and im fucking shitting tears😭😭

the giggler

jing yuan loves to be overstimulated. he loves the feeling of it, the adrenaline rush, the high, the feeling of finally cumming all over your fingers, tongue, strap whatever it may be and the feeling of you continuing to move, drawing out his orgasm while also driving him into an overstimulated mess

has the cutest giggles and laughs when he gets too much pleasure. he doesn’t even try to hide or won’t even try to hide it. why would he when you were making him feel so good over and over again? hell, he even wants other people to hear it, to remind them that you were his lover and only his. and how only he gets to feel the overwhelming amount of pleasure only you can bring to him and no one else

but, it comes with a catch. he needs a lot of foreplay and/or teasing and/or orgasm denial for him to finally cave in and shake his head before starting to blabber incoherent shit about how good your cock feels inside his gushing pussy, how he could feel your tip fucking his cervix, how he wanted you to fuck a baby inside him etc etc

and i mean a LOT of it

as a centuries old war hardened general, it’s safe to say that he had gotten used to some feelings and emotions. pleasure being one of them

so if you want to get him to break and to become absolutely dumb and drunk on lust and pleasure, you have to tease him a lots before getting into it. if not, he will somehow find a way to outsmart you and take the reigns. he’s a bit of a brat and a spoiled prince wrapped up into one after all

will tell you what to do and how to do it if you have failed in getting him needy in your foreplay. he will fist your hair and thrust his hips into your mouth, making you unable to breath for a moment or two with his clit right at your nose. will push you down and flip your positions so he could ride your face, all the while chuckling at your cute attempt to push him back down. a goddamn brat and he will show it to the fullest when you fail at your foreplay

did i mention he was a brat? well now i have. a fucking brat to the max and he isn’t ashamed of it. will definitely question your power in the bedroom, try to overpower you and he will. he literally swings a 7000kg glaive in one hand like its nothing and he will show it by throwing you around. gently and consensually of course, he wouldn’t want to hurt his beloved

but fully expect him to be cocky and devious. “can you say no to my pretty pussy?”, “so sleepy. oh sorry, i didn’t know your cock was inside me hehe”, “was that all?” you get the gist. will shamelessly yawn in the middle of fucking not because he is sleepy or tired, but simply because he is a brat. a goddamn brat

so, how can you get him to be needy and won’t make him go into his bratty side? simple. shove a long distance controlled vibrator inside his cunt and leave it there for the whole day for him to suffer at work. but if you’re going to do that, be sure to mute the ringtone for your phone for the day since he will call you, send you messages, pictures, videos every damn hour. the closer his hour for shift ending comes, the more frequent the buzzing of your phone will become because he will grow much more needier

when finally he’s back home and frantically pawing at your pants when barely through the doors, that’s when you know he had absolutely no intention of being a brat. how can he when his whole pants were slowly getting stained from his multiple orgasms?

when he’s gladly bending himself over, arching his back for you as he wiggles his hips, he will ask you to come inside. jing yuan is great with kids and such a huge family man, he will ask you over and over repeatedly to breed him. cum inside him, fill up his cute dripping cunt, put him in whatever position you want and make sure to breed his pretty cunt, you can finally raise your own family together!

remember the long distance controlled vibrator i mentioned? make sure to keep it on and buzzing inside his cunt at all times when he’s away at work, or else it won’t work. during meetings or report hearings, jing yuan had to leave to the bathroom a lot of times and it genuinely got his subordinates concerned for his health. the red face, the heavy breathing and sometimes, the jolts of his body or the bleeding bruised lips of his made the cloud knights worry and some even suggested for him to leave the seat of divine foresight early to look after his health. if only they knew just how their dearest general was pathetically biting on his hand to muffle his screams in the bathroom as he squirted all over himself

“[naaammeee], ‘m mmgh♡︎! aaaaangh haah mngck♡︎♡︎ i-i’m home!” jing yuan’s voice called out, weak mewls of pleasure slipping through as he collapsed onto the floor the moment the doors of your shared home was closed. desperately humping the floor, trying to push the vibrator deeper into his gushing pussy, your lover didn’t realize that you were leaning against the wall of the kitchen, watching him with a knowing smile. there was a wet patch growing in his usual red pants, growing more and more the further he humped the air in desperation. see? your tough brat was so easy to tame.

“you feeling okay, darling?” you call out, taking out the controlled from your pants pocket and messing with the switch. flipping it up, down, up to the highest level, before going to the lowest level. it was cute to see the ever so tough brat turn into a delirious mess from just a single small toy. all because he was being so stubborn about how you weren’t the boss of him. walking over to where he was kneeling on the floor, you reach your free hand out. tilting his head up, a thumb swiping away at the drool that was beginning to pool on his lower lip, you tilt your head to the side, asking the question again with a firm hold onto his chin.

“n-no…! no no no, not at aamgh♡︎♡︎ h-hhaaaggm not at all♡︎!” he shakes his head viciously, dragging out his words and tripping over them with moans and mewls falling in between. pathetically, he tugs on the hem of your pants, trying to get to his favorite treat, the one thing he’s been missing this whole day.

“n-need you… need you right now, need your—♡︎♡︎! need yo-our..! c-cock right now...♡︎!” jing yuan mutters between whimpers, finally, his shaky hands manage to pull down your pants and undergarments just enough to have your strap out. a needy whine falling as he places slobbering wet kisses on the tip, giving it a few licks as he flutters his lashes at you in an effort to manipulate you to give him what he was non-verbally asking.

knowing full well that he wouldn’t take no for an answer and that yanqing might come home soon, you drag him up to his feet — an action that was heavily protested against as jing yuan cries out after his favorite treat being taken away. once inside the comfort of your shared bedroom, by the time you have locked the door behind you, he was already naked. clothes messily strewn on the floor and on the bed, the many orgasm’s slick dripping down his puffy cunt to his ass and to the bedsheets eventually. you could see the light trembling of his pussy lips, an action caused by the vibrator fucking away inside him still.

turning the vibrator off, you take the toy out of his puffy cunt. jing yuan let out a drawn out mewl at the feeling, clenching around nothing as he tries to replace the empty feeling for something, anything. but seeing you starting to strip, he knew what he wanted. and he knew how he wanted it.

spreading his legs open further, his hand comes down, flicking at his enlarged clit with a jolt before spreading open his labia for you to take in how he was already so needily wet and dripping for you. a drunk giggle escaping him when the tip of your cock is right against his folds, wiggling his hips enticingly.

“[nnaameeee]~ you gotta fuck a baby in me this time, owhkayyy?♡︎♡︎ hehehe♥︎”

the crybaby

the cutest out of all three of them, in my personal opinion

he just gets overstimmed so easily and quickly, it’s adorable in the way that he brokenly begs for a moment of respite. legs shaking, smaller body jolting violently at the smallest of touches like your hand ghosting over his hardened nipples. don’t even get me started on the way he cutely squeals out loud when you pinch his clit augh

maybe it’s due to his nature as a vidyadhara and not a full human but every little touch is received with so much sensitivity and sensuality, it gets so easy to turn him into a blabbering mess in record time. push his smaller body against the wall and finger his gushing pussy while rolling your thumb over his clit. in no time, his legs are shaking as he bites your hand, his orgasm washing over him quickly and violently. but don’t just stop there, keep flicking at his clit, pinch it, tug on it, push a hand on the small bulge on his belly and he’ll be left sobbing by the second or third round

he’s noticeably smaller than the other two and it carries out into his size kink so well. he just wants to be pushed around and put into impossible, near painful positions and man-handled until he’s left a blabbering idiot

make him cockwarm you while asking him to read you a story or a book under the guise that you had a nightmare and can’t fall asleep without his soothing voice and soft cunny wrapped around your cock. at first he’ll huff and puff, saying that you’re a liar and just wants to fuck him. four or five pages in and his voice is already strained, whines coming out as hiccups and sniffles follow soon after

but just because he’s a crybaby doesn’t mean he’s an idiot. he knows how much you love his pretty steel grey eyes unfocused and hazy, brimming with tears and he will use that to his advantage. will make sure to play with his nipples or push down on the bulge in his tummy when cockwarming you so he could get teary eyed quicker. the moment he sniffles and grinds himself down on you, he knows you’re a goner and would give him what he wants

he may be a crybaby, but he’s also a goddamn minx so beware of that

tugs on your sleeve so cutely, looking at you with a flushed face and stuttered words to ask you if you wanna spend time with him in his room. today’s trailblazing expedition was too long and tiring after all, “surely you would enjoy some cuddles…?” or “i just wanted to help you patch up your wounds. i was just worried”

yeah sure, dan heng. just say that you wanna get fucked until you’re squealing out like a slut with fat tears running down your cute red cheeks. thank the aeons the express’ walls are thick and soundproof. if not, who knows the amount of noise complaint you would have gotten from everyone

has slight oral fixation. slightly. but that’s only because he wants to see you crumble and give into his non-verbal demands and just ruin him. he’s a bit too shy to ask directly after all

long serpentine tongue wrapping around your strap, pulling it into his mouth. will gag and choke so loudly with the tip of the fat dildo pushed right down his throat, hitting his uvula and choking his throat. he can complain about sore throats and pained jaws all he wants but you both know that he loves to suckle on your strap with tears filling his eyes

the most messiest cock sucker and that’s saying something bc blade is the one who has the biggest oral fixation out of the three of them. he’ll place wet kisses to the weeping tip of your cock, running the slitted snake like tongue over the weeping slit of your cock teasingly before wrapping it around your dick. loves the scent and the taste of your pre, basically addicted to it as he opens his mouth wider, slipping your cock inside the warm cavern of his mouth inch by inch

but be aware that he will also try to take advantage of this position. he will try to bat his lashes at you so he can continue suckling on your strap like he would be sucking on a lolipop, all under the guise to ‘make you happy’. when in reality, he would try to make you cum over and over to try and get you overstimulated. when in such position, just fist his hair and fuck his throat. gets him crying in no time like the crybaby he is

“… bamboo whispers in the w-wind, a secret pa-aaangh! aah aaah hmgk♡︎ a s-secret pa-act... ♡︎!“ the soothing voice of your lover drawls out into a weak sniffle, hands gripping the book filled with love poetry from his home planet tightly. so tight, you feared that he might just tear the book apart with his claws. you had crawled into his bed yet again to torment him today, the dildo hitting all the sensitive spots in his gushing cunt, dan heng couldn’t help but weakly whine when your hands around his waist tightens to not let him move.

“go on. i’m listening” you coo out, forcing him to stay still on your lap while his voice continue to drawl out. sniffles and broken pleads replacing his ever so stoic mask, a voice that is usually so cold and distant, always scolding other turning into one of mindless blabber about how badly he wanted your strap to fuck his pussy. you couldn’t help but laugh.

“is that what it says on the pages? i may be still learning the strokes but the next line seems to be the stroke for two” you point at the kanji on the book he was holding in his shaking hands, the strokes of the language seeming familiar to you. it was an easy kanji to read after all. yet not to your boyfriend it seems.

“please! p-please please move! i beg you, [n-naamee]♡︎ you gotta fuck meeh♡︎ you gotta fuck me you gotta fuck me— you have to fuck meeegck—♡︎♡︎!!” dan heng squeals, shaking thighs bucking down onto your dick, trying to gain some friction. it was enough, he had read you hundreds of love poetries from his home planet. he had been taking your pronged torture for long enough, please just fuck his cunt already!

“so impatient” you huff, putting the book away with a book marker tucked between the pages before hooking your hands under his knees. pulling him up and over until dan heng was left wailing at the sudden change in position. hooking your arms under his knees, his legs are left dangling in the air with nothing to support himself but for his hands to cling to your biceps. even then, he couldn’t hold for long as he jolts about in your arms like a hopping bunny, painting your dildo in his cum when the tip kissed his cervix.

“guuchk♥︎!! d-deep! aah ah naahmg haah t-too deep♡︎♡︎ [n-name] you’re f-fucckk fuck fuck—♡︎♥︎ fucking my cerviinxx my ceerrvv—♡︎♡︎ mngh unngya♥︎!” punched out sobs comes from his pretty lips, drawling out into whiny cries when you move him up and down. you could see the bulge in his tummy appear and disappear every little moment. every jolt, every gasp, every little whiny cry making the bulge in his tummy to get more detailed. he was so adorably small.

“‘m sorry, darling. i’m sorry, didn’t mean it. didn’t mean to fuck you this deep” you coo out apologies, lifting him just a bit so your strap won’t sink so deep to the point it would kiss his cervix. as much as you loved your crybaby gasping and writhing, you didn’t want the reason for such reaction to be pain.

claws scratching at every inch of skin he could touch, jaw slack open in a silent scream, you could barely make out his shrill yell of what appears to be your name when dan heng squirts over your cock after just a few thrusts. you could see the overflowing amount of cum just dripping down your cock, trailing down to your legs and staining the mattress. with a click of your tongue, you pinched his clit, making the shorter man sniffle with a squeal.

“‘m soowryyy… sorry sorry—♡︎ d-didn’t mean to be bad... s-soowwh uunhg hyaagk ungc gugcck—♥︎♥︎!!”

the hissy bitch

alright, so i know i’m going into territory that has been charted way too many times before by blade lovers standard but he def has piercings. on his nipples, tongue and on his clit. probably got the first three by losing a drunk bet or something or maybe he just wanted it but the last one, the clit one, is definitely his latest piercing. one that he got after his relationship with you began and he had made the sudden rash decision to get one so he could see your reaction and to feel you just messing with it while fucking him

there is a REASON why he always keeps his chest bandaged up. there is a goddamn reason and that reason is his nipple piercings and the fact that his chest is generally very sensitive im being delusional

so what does that bring and why have i specified it? simple. titty fucking. nipple stimulation. seeing his pretty big, round chest jiggle every time your cock sinks back into his dripping cunt. pinch it, roll it, tug on them, suckle on them, do anything to him with his nipple piercing and he’s scratching at your back, mauling it like an animal

the reason i see him as a hissy bitch is because he likes to throw small temper tantrums when he gets too overstimulated. he’s crying, begging, hitting your shoulders, back, scratching at them and leaving deep red scratch marks, perhaps even breaking the skin sometimes. how come blade get overstimulated quickly? because he is very touch deprived. he’s been alone and immortal for too damn long and his ass is fucking touch starved. i just know it in my bones

genuinely, he is indeed very touch starved. since his rebirth as an immortal, he had felt nothing but pain, anguish and suffering and therefore, has basically gotten immune to touches. especially the violent and bloody ones. but gentle, tender, affectionate ones? find him jumping away from your soft hands like a frightened cat, it’s goddamn heartbreaking. so when he finally gets his cunt fucked, blade would be overstimmed too fast due to receiving a sudden abundance of affection and touches

will shake his head ‘no’ when asked if you would wanna stop due to his tears. you were just concerned but blade didn’t wanted this onslaught of pleasure to stop. desperately rides your fingers, mouth, strap — anything. loves the feeling of being on top of you, gives him the slight feeling of being in control. until it all gets thrown out the window when you force him to stop bouncing, hands gripping his hips tightly as a warning. will whine and try to grind down, trying to chase that high again but will only end up with a pout and hissy tears falling down his cheeks

another one who loves the feeling of being stuffed full and overstimulated. it’s almost like he gets high from the feeling. loves having his pussy fucked in any way you please until he can’t stay on his hands or feet without shaking. it’s just so cute to see him shaking like a fawn when fucking him doggy style

prepare to have yourself used as a chew toy as well as a scratcher. blade’s almost like a cat, hissy and whiny but also so greedy and preferring certain things in certain manner. will bite at your shoulders, hands, fingers to muffle himself but also to try and get his shit together. will scratch at your back, thighs, wherever he could reach. such a spoiled brat

when eating him out, be sure to give an extra care and love to his clit piercing. constantly flicking it with your tongue would usually work though, gets his legs all shaky and jolty soon enough. maybe pair it with flicking his pierced nubs and bladie will be squirting into your mouth with an embarrassing high pitched shriek. make sure to clean up all of his mess before diving right back into his gushing cunny. he may not say it but he will expect you to go back to eating him out like he’s your last meal

has the BIGGEST oral fixation out of the three of them. like, down bad, delicious, scrumptious, sloppy oral fixation. and he is happy to give it 90% of the times due to his tongue piercing. knows how good it makes you feel and how you like to see his pretty face between your legs, sucking on the large dildo like his life depends on it. not a single thought or a single moment of choking from him, it’s almost like he doesn’t have a gag reflex

you just came back from mission, from being away from him even for a single day? unacceptable. let him bend over for you, you can get your stress out by fucking his already dripping wet pussy. too tired? that’s fine. take of your pants and get comfortable cuz’ he can stay between your legs for days

not a single minute of respite has greeted you ever since you came back from your latest mission, stepping foot into your shared home with your stoic lover. perhaps the single gentle kiss to your cheek before he started to leave slobbering wet kisses on your lips was the only warning and moment of rest you have gotten. not even shoes off yet and blade was already unbuckling your belt, giving you the puppy eyes and grumbling about how you’ve been away for too damn long. whining about how much he missed you and needed your strap to fuck him dumb. how his pretty pussy had missed you so much.

“n-nnghyaa♡︎♡︎ m-missed you... missed you s’ much, [name]! f-fuck me fuck me fuck me, fuck your favorite cunt gyyuck—♥︎♥︎ a-aaanh! haah ah ah mmngk—♡︎♥︎!!” unusually docile red eyes roll to the back of his skull, jaw going slack wide open as you push his legs up, feeling your strap hit him deeper than he thought was possible. he could feel your weight push him down, keeping it still on the bed and to stop him from wiggling his hips entirely. this new position caused his cat like pupils to widen, turning into heart shapes as you chuckle at the dazed look in his eyes.

“such a needy brat” you coo out in a condescending manner, pushing his legs up in the air with your hands hooked under his knees to keep him in place. pulling out until halfway out, you sink back into blade’s dripping cunt. a squeal tearing from his throat alongside the filthy wet squelch of his cunt tightening around your dildo. it was so easy to get him dumb.

“t-too nngh much! too muchtoomuchtoomuch♡︎! fucking m-my womb—♡︎ [n-name], y-youuwrr crush— crushing my wombgg aangh ah ah! gyyuck eengh aaangh nyaagh♥︎♥︎!!” the familiar feeling of his nails scratching at your arms takes place, tearing at the skin, clawing at any part of your body he can come in contact with. a desperate attempt to ground his already long gone mind, too deep into the throes of pleasure that he didn’t even realize his shaking hands were weakly pulling your hips to fuck deeper into his warm walls.

“don’t be so dramatic, bladie. i won’t be able to crush your womb in this position” you coo out mockingly, wiping away the fat globs of tears that continue to pour of his eyes. red and yellow eyes rolled to the back of his skull, wide open mouth letting out the most salacious squeals and shrieks of your name and how you were fucking his womb falling out. legs weakly dangling in the air, jolting and bristling at every deep thrust you fuck into his velvety walls. the lewd wet squelching noises were alongside your grunts and blade’s whiny sobs were the only noise in the room. you would probably get noise complaints the next morning due to blade’s loudmouthed blabbering self.

letting go of one of his legs, you shove your fingers into his mouth. almost as if it was an instinct, blade’s tongue wet your fingers. suckling on the two digits as it his life depended on it with the most cutest heart shaped pupils staring at you. once you deemed them wet enough, you take your fingers out of his mouth. an action that blade showed his hatred towards as his pierced tongue comes past his lips, trying to chase after your fingers.

“gghcck—♡︎♥︎♥︎♥︎!!” a sharp wail taking place as blade arches his back, his whole body shaking, soft big tits jiggling when you pinched at his pierced clit. rolling, tugging, flicking at the hardened nub as blade sobs about cumming before drenching your cock with his squirting. you had thought of him to be satisfied with it, but turns out you have underestimated your lover’s neediness when his strong scarred thighs comes to wrap around your waist, legs locked behind your back when you tried to pull out.

sigh… it’s times like this that makes you glad for your amount of stamina.

4K notes · View notes

kitten4sannie · 5 months ago

Text

dolce and gabbana

pairing: san x guest! reader (fem)

genre: pure smut with a tiddlywink of plot

summary: san can’t seem to get you off his mind after sitting next to you during the latest D&G showcase, so he has no choice but to get you on his dick instead.

w.c: 3.3k

warnings: some alcohol use, subby until he’s not! san, dommy mommy who folds instantly when san asserts himself! reader, both reader and san mutually go after one another despite knowing one of them is MARRIED (hoes will be hoes what can i say <3), reader’s husband is a dick ofc, misogyny (from said husband), cheating, seduction, exhibitionism, mommy/daddy kink….. (i’m weak okay,,), teasing, ITS BIG BTW AND CURVED……, only praise and pet names (omg who hacked k4s???), groping, fingering, kissing, dry humping on a couch in a very crowded room, one neck bite, san cums untouched, oral (receiving), squirting, one singular pussy slap, san puts reader into a mating press on her husband’s side of the bed just for funsies, manhandling, size kink, breeding kink, creampies (sannie cums a lotttt)

a/n: as a pudding since day 1 i am in absolute shambles thanks for asking <3 and YES im very aware i posted yesterday but the fic demons cannot be silenced!!! and just fyi i’m sure san was very grateful and absolutely brimming with excitement to be at the show!! the way i wrote him here does not reflect his actual feelings towards anything,, its just a silly fic and i wrote what i wanted lol. also i wish i could tell you how many times “dolce and gabbana that’s on my titties~” played in my head while i typed this out 😭😭 (also i did not proofread this whatsoever so forgive me if there are errors) but anyways, i hope you enjoy :33

song recs: la romana by bad bunny, rover by kai, planet goddamn by mac miller

San knew eyes would be on him. Why wouldn’t they be? He was dressed to the nines, his hair slicked back to showcase his alluring, feline-like eyes, his sharp, angular features that could give someone a fatal cut if they looked for too long, and most importantly, he was all decked out in a sleek black custom-made top that perfectly adorned his broad shoulders and chest, one that even cinched securely around his impossibly tiny waist. Of course it did. It had been custom fit and made just for his body. Even the tailor had jokingly mentioned that Michelangelo himself must’ve sculpted him to perfection in the heavens before San was born, but San wasn’t laughing. He perfected his body through his own sheer willpower and determination alone, to be the best that he could be for his own self — and if people just so happened to drool over the results of his hard work, then that was simply a perk.

Holding his hand up to shield his eyes from the many camera flashes, he continued to make his way down the walkway, offering many of the starstruck guests a courteous, though charming smile, wondering if their wandering gazes were due to his breathtaking ensemble or what was sitting just below it. The thought tickled him. It continued to amuse him throughout the afternoon, taking picture after picture with eager guests and wealthy tycoons alike, quite pleased with himself when neither man nor woman could seem to control themselves around him, their eyes always drifting downwards to look San up and down like he were next up in an auction, their mouths pressed to their champagne flutes in an effort to quell the thirst they felt, their free hands lingering just a little too long on the small of his back when they bid farewell to him.

San relished the fact that these poor starving individuals could never get a taste of him, no matter how incredibly rich or influential they were. None of them would get a bite of the forbidden fruit without permission from God.

It was then that the show started, various eye-catching models sashaying their way across the aisle to showcase the latest D&G collection, all displaying their own unique set of features and charm. All flawless and angelic in their own right, but they were almost predictable in that way — like mannequins made solely for the rich and beautiful to gawk at. San couldn’t help but look past them, only focusing on the expensive, tailor made clothes that were framing their perfect bodies. And after a while, he almost seemed to grow bored. Of what, exactly? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the sheer gaudiness of it all, the lack of self awareness for things that really mattered in the modern world, and the almost nauseating amount of self-sucking the rich individuals around him seemed to be fond of doing. San would’ve pondered it more when somebody near him gently patted his thigh, causing him to look down at the small manicured hand, the diamond ring around your finger glinting in the light like a warning sign.

“Are you bored like I am?” you whispered softly into his ear from beside him, giving him a quaint smile when he turned his head to face you.

San blushed, leaning slightly in your direction. “Am I that obvious?”

“No, don’t worry. None of these drones will be able to notice.” You motioned your head to the crowd around you, their phones in hand, all whispering to each other about how revolutionary the new collection was, despite it looking eerily similar to the fall one from the year before. “You could whip your cock out and no one would bat an eye.”

“Oh?” San studied your flirtatious smile, then looked down just to make sure his eyes hadn’t deceived him. Yep, the ring was still there — and it probably cost more than a starter house. Delighted by your forwardness, San took it upon himself to tease you, reaching down to slowly unbutton his slim-fitted pants. “Well, if that’s the case…”

Your cheeks turning bright red, you reached downwards to shield his crotch from view, looking up at him with wide eyes, your faces now impossibly close. “I-i was fucking with you! Don’t actually take out your dick…”

San’s sharpened eyes flitted from your gaze to your cherry red lips, letting go of his zipper to gently take your hand in his, pressing it firmly down onto his thigh. “Yet…?” he challenged huskily, wondering if you were like all the others and would yank your hand back, scoff in disgust, and pretend as if it had never happened. It was then that San felt you squeeze your warm hand into the meat of his thigh, your fingers just barely pressing into the inseam of his pants.

“You can be a good boy and wait till the after party, can’t you?” you asked in a lower, sultrier tone, pressing your lips to his cheek to leave your mark on him, your hand moving further up his thigh, only pulling away when you felt something hard press into your palm. Smiling sweetly, you leaned in again, this time allowing your lips to brush over his. “Good things come to those who wait.”

And just like that, you turned forward to focus on the models all gathering onto the stage at once along with the designers, clapping along with the rest of the crowd when they all took a bow. You blew a kiss to one of the designers who caught it and pretended to put it in his pocket.

Still breathless from your short encounter, San nudged your thigh with his own, biting into his lip and tasting the sweetness of your lipstick. You nudged him back, glancing at him through the corner of yours eyes, licking at your own lips, like a predator would before pouncing on their prey.

San couldn’t believe he had finally met someone like you. There was a serpent in his garden — and he couldn’t wait for it to swallow him up.

The after party was predictable as always — strangers binge drinking and snorting powder off of your previously pristine marble tabletops, others telling embellished stories about their latest trip to their private islands to various locked-in acquaintances, some off doing god knows what in your many empty guest rooms, and you could not, for the life of you, care about what your husband was currently cackling over with his close friends, focusing on the crackling wood sitting inside the fireplace you were all huddled near. When you inevitably ran out of champagne, you patted your husband’s leg so that he could remove his arm from your waist.

He looked down at you with indifference. “What is it?”

“I need more champagne, honey. I’m going to get some.”

Your husband’s face scrunched up. “Haven’t you had enough? If you drink anymore, you’re going to lose your nice figure.” He looked to his friends for validation who simply nodded along in agreement.

Your husband’s chauvinistic comments didn’t bother you anymore, just his persistent presence in your life. He was like a mosquito that was always trying to drain you, one that you could never seem to swat away. Well, nothing a little dick couldn’t fix. “That’s funny, because I seem to recall the tailor coming in this morning for an emergency visit to alter a certain suit,” you mentioned, this time pushing your husband’s arm away from you, surveying his now quiet friends with an unbothered look, before wandering off, not registering the insecurity driven ramblings that your husband was sending your way.

Once you made your way into the crowded loft, you searched your surroundings for what you were looking for, humming at the sight of the pretty boy from earlier sitting on the large plush couch in the corner, a half-empty champagne flute in hand, his attention on one of the models that had walked for your husband’s collection a few hours earlier. He was even more handsome now that you could study his captivating details, your eyes drifting over his bulky frame, from his large arms and shoulders, to his delicate waist, and down to his spread thighs, zeroing in on what was between them, knowing that the beautiful stranger was blessed in more ways than one based off what you had felt earlier.

Without hesitation, you slowly made your way across the room, your stiletto heels digging into the fur carpet below with each concentrated step, licking your red lips when the model placed one of her hands on San’s thighs and squeezed it, his suddenly submissive expression causing more knots to form within your core. You were going to make him yours.

San could barely hear the pretty model’s words over the loud music and the many overlapping voices inside the loft, not knowing what to say when she moved closer to him, clearly going in for the kill. It was then that someone stood over him, their heel nudging into his loafer. He looked up, his once hazy eyes opening wide at the sight of you standing above him with a bottle of champagne in one hand, your other hand already cradling his face. “M-miss…there you are…”

“Here I am,” you purred, running your fingers along his jaw, satisfied with the fact that your lipstick print was still visible on his tan skin.

San gulped, just about spilling the drink he was still holding onto, unknowingly spreading his thighs open further, as if he was giving you an unspoken invitation to climb onto his lap.

Humming, you lowered yourself into his lap, your plush thighs and ass pressing snuggly against his lower half. “Look at you,” you cooed softly into San’s ear, not caring to give the now fuming model any attention, lowering the cold champagne bottle in between your bodies, chuckling at the soft whimper he let out when it pressed into the exposed sections of his skin. “You’re such a good boy, saving a seat for Mommy like this. Aren’t you, baby?”

“Y-yes, I am, s-so good for you…”

“Then, be good and open your mouth,” you purred, lifting the almost empty bottle and pouring some into your mouth. San’s jaw slowly dropped, not knowing that he was already beginning to drool. You didn’t mind, clutching the sides of his heated face and pressing your parted lips onto his, transferring the sparkling alcohol to him, but not without running your tongue over his.

San brought his hands up near the sides of your ass, his fingers trembling, not knowing if he was allowed to touch you, whimpering into your mouth when you sucked the alcohol off of his tongue.

“You can touch, baby.” You reached for his wrists and brought his hands underneath the hem of your short dress, gasping when he squeezed the softness of your ass in between his ringed fingers and began to slowly guide your hips, your clothed cunt rubbing back and forth over his stiffening cock. “Mm, someone’s eager, hm? You’re a naughty one, making the main designer’s wife grind on your cock like this in front of everyone.”

“It’s…Mommy’s fault…” San murmured near your ear, rolling his own hips up into yours, making you feel every inch of his trapped throbbing cock each time he ground himself into you, biting into his lip at the sound of your breathless moans, swearing he saw your grimacing husband from over your shoulder.

“My fault, huh? Mommy should make up for it, shouldn’t she?” you sighed back onto his heated skin, pressing kiss after kiss onto his collarbones, dragging your tongue along the constellation of freckles he had on his neck, making him shudder underneath you.

“Uh-huh…” San moaned out, your hand suddenly squeezing into and sliding back and forth over his erection, your thumb repeatedly rubbing over the pronounced tip, knowing he was staining his expensive pants with sticky pre-cum. “F-fuck, I’ll cum if you keep doing that…”

“So sensitive, baby, you’re so cute…but you’re not the only one, you know? Look what you did to Mommy~” You gave his balls a gentle squeeze just to hear him whimper, before letting go, instead reaching for his hand again and leading it between your legs, moving your soaked panties to the side just in time for San to fill you up with two thick fingers.

“You’re so wet…” San groaned, unable to keep himself from adding another digit inside your slick hole, beginning to pump them in and out of you, allowing the both of you to listen to the obscene squelching sounds your cunt made each time he finger-fucked you. Something switched inside of San when you began to whine and whimper, and fuck yourself back on his fingers, your eyebrows screwed upwards, begging him for more with your teary, half-closed eyes. “So fucking wet just for me, huh? Hey, Miss, did you know your husband is standing just across the room? Think he’s hard knowing I just got his pretty little wife wetter than she’s been in her entire life?”

“B-baby, don’t tease me like that,” you whispered, not wanting the control you had over him to slip out of your grasp, grabbing onto his shoulders, accidentally causing pieces of his solid outfit to fall off and land onto the leather couch.

“It’s San, Miss, but you can call me Sannie if you wanna be a good girl for me,” he chuckled, shoving his fingers into you up to the knuckles, rolling your clit around underneath his heavy thumb. “And, I’m not teasing you, my love, he’s really watching us, and he looks like he wants to kill me.”

Just as you looked behind you to catch your husband’s displeased gaze, San began to ram his soaked digits into your spasming cunt, feeling his lips, tongue, and teeth on your neck. “O-oh my god, Sannie, oh, fuckkkk…”

Just as your warm arousal began to pour out onto his fingers and lap, San bit down into the area where your neck and collarbone connected, letting out a few stunted groans, his hips jolting up into yours, coating the insides of his designer pants with white.

“Did you just…?” you began, before San stuffed his fingers into your mouth, growing quiet and sucking your arousal off of them. He pulled them out with a pop, but you didn’t even get the chance to continue your question because you were suddenly being lifted up into the air, strong hands clutching your thighs, your legs hooked around San’s waist.

Your defeated, emasculated husband was just a blur when San carried you through the crowded room and up the stairs, not stopping until he got to the largest room at the end of the expansive hallway.

“Which side does your husband sleep on?” San asked, once he stood at the foot of the kingsized bed.

“On the right. Why do you–O-oh,” you gasped as he quickly laid you out on the right side of the bed and lifted your dress up, forcefully spreading your thighs open so that he could bury his face in your cunt, repeatedly lapping at your slit and clit over your soaked panties until he couldn’t take it, reaching up to tear your panties off with ease. “Sannie, baby boy, what’s gotten into you?”

San looked up at you with dark, dilated eyes, reaching up to his broad body to rip off the rest of his outfit, his solid muscles flexing as he closed his fingers around your waist, yanking you lower so that your cunt was closer to his face, looking like he was about to eat you alive. “Daddy’s hungry,” he simply replied, diving back into your cunt to lick and slurp up your juices, tonguing your hole just to feel you clench around him, his nose nudging your clit as he ate you out like a starved man.

Sooner or later, you began to shudder and pant, tugging at the ends of San’s sweaty hair, your thighs pressing into the sides of his head until he forcefully held them down, quickly moving his head up and down as he dragged his tongue roughly over your throbbing clit, his focused eyes never leaving yours. “S-sannie, I’m really, fuck– I’m gonna cum…!”

“Cum for Daddy,” he demanded gruffly, stuffing three fingers into your cunt and pounding them into your g-spot, lifting your ass up with his other hand so that he could catch the stream of arousal that suddenly squirted out of you, some of it inevitably soaking into the satin sheets below you. San licked your juices from his lips, going down to give your puffy cunt one last lick to savor your taste, before standing up from the bed and unbuckling his pants.

“Y-you….Did you get possessed by a demon?” you asked half-jokingly, unable to keep your thighs from trembling, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your wrist.

“And if I did? You’d still let me fuck you, wouldn’t you?” San smiled devilishly, his dimples appearing, kicking off his pants and running his closed hand along his curved, dripping length. He pressed his thighs against the side of the bed, running the tip of his cock over your lips, watching fondly as you sucked and licked the beads of pre-cum that leaked from the slit.

“I would.” Lifting yourself up so that you could completely rid yourself of your disheveled dress, you reached up for the handsome stranger, licking the saltiness from your lips. “Now, come here and show Mommy just how much Daddy wants her.”

San wasted no time climbing back onto the bed and folding you up into a mating press, leaning back to send a few wads of spit onto your cunt, smacking his hand against the wetness for good measure, before he plunged himself deep inside you.

You just about screamed, not ready for San’s unusual size and shape, the curve of his cock rubbing deliciously along your tightening walls each time he pounded himself into you. “S–ann–ie…! It’s so big, fuck– so good!”

“Aww, poor baby’s never had a big cock stretching out her pretty pussy before, huh?” San cooed into your ear, pulling all the way out, just to slam himself back in, hitting your g-spot dead on, making you cry out deliriously. “You’ll never be able to go back to your husband after this. You’re gonna be begging for me to take care of you from now on….” San pressed his lips against yours, sucking on your tongue as you moaned out for him. “Want you to cum for me again, baby…Squirt on my cock, okay?”

“S-Sannie, it’s too much,” you whined out, dragging your nails down his broad back, your toes curling just as San punched your next orgasm out of you when his curved cock once again came in contact with your g-spot.

As you began to cry from the overwhelming pleasure, San licked your tears away, gently pressing his lips into your cheek and jaw, shushing you. “Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s here for you.” He clutched you close, holding still inside you, as his cock began to twitch. “Here it comes, princess, just for you.” A hot, creamy stream of cum began to shoot out into you, completely drenching your insides with his load.

You could hardly speak at this point in time, solely concentrated on the pleasure that still had a hold on your sore body and the warmth that was filling you up to the brim, suddenly realizing that your husband really wasn’t going to be happy with you. “Y-you shouldn’t have…nnnngh….”

San continued to roll his hips into you, his eyelids fluttering, groans spilling from his throat, your cunt still milking his pulsing cock for all it had, which was a lot, to say the least. Once there was nothing left to give you, San leaned down, pressing one last kiss to your lips, not caring that you had left your lipstick all over him. “Can I ask you something, baby?”

“Y-yes, San?”

San smiled, his glossy brown eyes glistening in the light. “When you have my baby, will you have the heart to tell your poor husband that it’s actually mine?”

Panting heavily and trying to process what the handsome stranger just said, you finally came to the realization that you let someone who didn’t even know your name possibly impregnate you. Well, at least you had something to talk about over breakfast with your husband, rather than hear him go on and on about his latest collection.

“I’m not sure about that one…”

“Can I ask you one more question?”

“Hm?”

“Should I name our baby Dolce or Gabbana?”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

#cultofdionysusnet #cromernet #ateez #ateez smut #ateez san #choi san #san smut #san x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #kpop smut

2K notes · View notes

slater-baby · 6 months ago

Note

Snippet of Simon with his pregnant wife………..pls n thank you

Of course!! I hope you like the piece :D

Tags: pure fluff, established relationship, pregnancy cravings and mood swings, whipped!Simon

Word count: 5k

“C’mon, you fuckin’ muppets—pick up the goddamn pace or I’ll have you hit the deck for another twenty.”

“Yessir!!” The recruits scream, valiantly trying to pick up their feet—even if a good few of them looked like they were just about ready to vomit.

“Sergeant,” Simon shouts, arms crossed as he surveys the pack of jogging recruits.

“Sir,” Soap jogs to his side, back ramrod straight in acknowledgement of his rank.

“Who’s that wanker at the back there? The prick whose mustache is out of fuckin’ code,” he snarls, yelling the words loud enough to make sure the private gets an earful. When the lad perks up at the mention of his (truly horrid) mustache, Simon can’t help the pinpricks of amusement that run up his spine at the horrified look that he wears.

“Johnson, lieutenant,” Soap provides, actually addressing Simon by his proper rank, just to put on a show for the new recruits.

The Taskforce had preferred selection of candidates fresh entering into the SAS—a perk of their stellar reputation—and with every few months that passed, there was always another new grove of fresh-faced, twenty-somethings for them to pick through. While Simon dreaded having to deal with fresh meat in the field, he had to admit that watching them stumble and trip over their own two feet just to impress him was quite amusing, hence why he’d made a habit out of stopping by the training field to lighten his spirits when the paperwork got too dense.

Soap and Gaz were in charge of integrating the new recruits into their own companies, and after a few weeks of watching Simon look on with longing eyes, they’d eventually let him take the reigns for a few minutes each day—if only so that they could sit back and watch the fallout when the recruits saw the infamous Ghost stalking onto the field.

Today was another such occasion. The recruits were dressed out in full gear as punishment for a mishap in the barracks the night before. Packs, rifles, gas masks and all. Though, after a good few minutes of watching them struggle to breathe through the stifling air filters, Soap had taken enough pity on them to allow them to lift the masks for a short breather…one that was certainly long enough for Simon’s taste, especially when he’d seen the downright hilarious mustache one of the recruits had been sporting.

“Johnson!” He bellows, voice booming across the field, “Get your arse over here now!”

Johnson came awkwardly ambling over, barely standing under the weight of his full pack and kit. The minute he halts in front of Simon’s towering form, he looks about ready to keel over and beg for mercy. However, he manages to stand straight under Simon’s scrutiny, hands shaking imperceptibly by his side.

“Sir!” He greets.

“Tell me, Private, ‘cause I’d love to know,” he gets into the Private’s face, grimacing under the mask at the style of his facial hair, “Why did you pass selection?”

“Because I met the requirements, sir!” He shouts back.

“Did you?” Simon asks, “Because I don’t remember there being a bloody ten minute mile on the fucking enlistment papers! Pick up those fucking boots and get your pace back on a four minutes, or I swear to god I’ll keep the whole bloody company runnin’ ’til sun down!”

“Yes, lieutenant, sir!” Johnson yells, clumsily backing into his stride. Just for the fun of it, Simon jogs along, struggling not to laugh when he sees the way Johnson’s eyes widen at the sight of him.

“Let’s fuckin’ go, Private, pick it up,” he points towards the other recruits, who are several lengths ahead, “What the hell is this? My wife could run a faster klick than you can and she’s six months pregnant!”

“Congratulations, sir?!” Johnson yells back.

“Shut the fuck up and run faster—bloody fucking hell.”

Simon slows his jog, watching as Johnson plods forward. Before he can even turn to look back at the sergeant, he hears Johnny’s laughter emanating from behind him. A hand claps down on his shoulder.

“You haven’t lost your touch, LT,” Soap chuckles, watching the pack of recruits with a careful eye, “Should see the poor basterds huddle ‘round the table in the mess hall, swapping wives’ tales ‘bout ya like you’ve given ‘em PTSD or some shite.”

“If they leave here only having nightmares, I must be doin’ my job wrong,” Simon quips, hand itching to reach for the megaphone and address the entire company, “Fun to watch ‘em piss their pants every time they talk to me.”

“You’re stone cold, Simon.”

“Like you don’t do the same.”

Jokingly, Soap raises his hands in surrender, backing over towards the four-wheeler they’d driven out with medical supplies.

“You stickin’ around for few minutes?” Soap asks, swiping his half-eaten protein bar from the trunk, “M’good to hang back ’n let you take over. Wanted to check my email anyway.”

“Maybe just for a few,” he smirks, still watching the recruits, “Think they’re in for a couple round o’ suicides?”

At that, Soap’s smile widens.

“I mean…with all the shite that went down during room inspection last night,” he shrugs, “I wouldnae blame you. Give ‘em hell, LT.”

“Good man, Soap,” he chuckles, pointing towards the hitch of the four-wheeler, “Hand me that loudspeaker.”

Johnny does as he asks, tossing the loudspeaker into his arms with a mirthful smirk around his protein bar. With expert precision, Simon wraps the strap around his forearm, fingers poised on the speaker button. However, just when the perfect string of curses had popped into his head, his phone begins buzzing in his pocket. With a disappointed huff, he drops the loudspeaker, reaching into his pocket. He ambles over to Soap, reading the contact name.

“Here,” he hands back the loudspeaker, “Need to take this.”

“Who is it?” Soap asks, voice muffled around a mouthful of granola.

“The missus,” Simon answers easily, “Probably just wants to see what time I’ll be home.”

He lifts the phone to his masked ear, dutifully watching the jogging recruits. The past few months, you’d taken to calling him more often when he was on the clock. Back when you had just begun dating, you wouldn’t dare to call him when he was at work (let alone when he was on deployment) unless the house had caught fire. But now—with a ring on your finger and with his last name in your signature—you’d loosened up a bit. Though, once he got you pregnant, the calls had increased by tenfold. He suspects the hormones are to blame.

After all, having a military husband that could be called away at a moment’s notice wasn’t a job for the weak—especially when you had a baby on the way. At the thought of you at home, hand rubbing over your swollen belly, stuffing your mouth with whatever new craving you had, while you listened to each ring of the phone with undue intensity, Simon can’t help but smirk.

Pregnancy was hard on you. These days, your feet were so swollen you could barely stand in the kitchen long enough to make your own meals without Simon intervening. Speaking of meals, your eating patterns had taken quite a hit, and your cravings had only gotten markedly weirder as the months went on.

First, it was strawberries.

“I want a strawberry shake,” you grab onto his jacket when he pulls up to the drive through window, “With extra strawberry syrup—oh, and extra sprinkles, too.”

“Got it,” he mumbles, leaning over the car door to begin speaking.

“Wait!” You grab a harsh handful of his jacket, stopping him before he can say a word, “And—and can you ask them to put a cherry on top? I don’t want them to forget…”

“Sure, baby,” he tells you, brushing over your growing bump. With a small smile, he turns back to the window.

…only to jolt in his seat like he’d just been electrocuted when you slap a hand against his chest hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs.

“Wait!” You exclaim, practically leaning into his seat just to grab his attention, “Can you ask them if they can put a strawberry on top instead? Doesn’t that sound way better?”

Needless to say, half of the fridge had been taken over by towering boxes of fresh strawberries. Simon’s sad protein drinks had trembled in fear beneath their shadows. However, by month two, you’d taken a single look at strawberries and wrinkled your nose, tossing them all in the trash practically the next day.

When Simon came home from work one day to see you guzzling down Alfredo like it was going out of style, he’d seen the writing on the wall.

“How was work, Simon?” You gleefully meet him at the door, enveloping him in a tight hug. He groans at the blissful feeling, grinning underneath his mask when he feels the curve of your belly pressing into his stomach. It was just beginning to show, and every time he watched you get dressed in the morning, he couldn’t help but watch from the bed with a dreamy smile on his face.

“Too long, love,” he complains, unbuttoning his jacket, “You made dinner?”

“Yep, already plated it up for you,” you chime, padding back into the kitchen, “I tried something different, so I think you’ll be surprised.”

“Yeah?” He trails after, trying to hide the smile in his voice.

For the past three weeks, you’d made pasta Alfredo nearly every single night for dinner. At first, Simon had scraped his plate clean, practically licking each dish before he stuck them in the washer with how delicious it was. Eating MREs and Mess Hall food your entire life should be considered psychological warfare in his book, and no matter how many times he came home after work, he considered each homemade meal a blessing (especially when it was made with your love and care).

However, by night sixteen of pasta Alfredo, Simon was struggling to swallow, looking down at the mass of pasta like it had personally offended him. At the news of something “different,” Simon would be lying if he wasn’t about ready to jump with joy.

But when he enters the dining room to see yet another steaming plate of Alfredo, he balks.

“Isn’t it great?” You ask him, rubbing over his bicep with a look that’s so loving he can’t bring himself to speak, “I used a whole different blend of cheeses. I think you’ll really like it. I mean, I already tasted the sauce, and I had to stop myself from eating the whole pot before you got home.”

With a dazed nod, Simon slides into his seat, staring down at the pasta with unblinking eyes.

“You excited to try it?” You ask again, placing a cup of water in front of him.

“Well,” he shakes his head disbelievingly, preparing himself to shovel down this entire plate if it was the last thing he did, “I…can’t wait, baby.”

Simon had to refrain from crying with relief when you finally moved on. He was but a simple man, and his tastebuds could only handle so many Alfredo dinners before his mind imploded from the banality of it all. However, he’d never considered that if his tongue would be spared that his sleep schedule would be next on the chopping block.

Needless to say, by month four, he was begging for the Alfredo to make a comeback.

“Simon?”

He jolts awake with a flinch, blinking rapidly to clear the sleep from his eyes. He’d always been a light sleeper, especially after he’d joined the service, and when he woke up like this normally, it was usually to the sound of gunfire or an air raid siren. Now, however, it was to the whimpers of his tired bride, slinging an arm over his stomach to bury her face in between his shoulder blades.

“What, love?” He rasps, lazily intertwining your fingers with his own.

“I need…” you huff, eyes still half closed, “I need a three piece meal. With…with a large fry.”

Dazed, he rubs over his face.

“What?” He asks.

“You heard what I said,” you tell him—sounding no less tired and sweet than you did two seconds ago. Though, Simon knew better than to test you. One day, he’d had the poor thought of joking about it and expecting you to react just as sweet as you were acting…After you made him sleep on the couch three nights in the row, however, you woke up to a three piece meal and a handwritten apology at your bedside for breakfast.

You’d called him into the bedroom, munching on your fries with your legs still beneath the blankets, looking at him from head to toe—like his old drill sergeants used to when he entered Basic.

“So,” he’d begun tactfully, “Can I sleep in here tonight?”

You’d pursed your lips, thinking about it.

“Are you really sorry?” You’d asked him, completely serious.

“I…” he’d bitten his cheek, fingers twitching. It’d been days since you last let him touch you, and each and every advance had only been met with fiery rejection and angry tears. And that night, however, he’d been about ready to get down on his hands and knees and beg for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry, love,” he’d told you softly, speaking with all the confidence of a terrified zookeeper walking towards a growling lion.

“Fine,” you’d huffed, reaching for your hot and sour sauce, “I’ll let you back in bed.”

Simon had smiled from ear to ear, wholly relieved.

“Can I give you a kiss before I leave for base?” He’d asked, taking a cautious step closer.

Your thoughtful pout had had his nerves blazing.

“On my cheek,” you’d edged, brows furrowed with anger. And as he’d stepped closer, he could feel the irritation radiating off of you in waves. He’d carefully planted a kiss against your cheek, but when he’d ducked his head to kiss your pregnant belly, however, you’d shoved him back with a mewl.

“Don’t touch the baby,” you’d growled, hugging your fries to your chest like they’d disappear before you could get your fill, “They’re mad at you right now…”

Simon’s brows had raised in disbelief.

“The baby…” he’d pointed towards your stomach, “The baby’s mad at me?”

“Yep,” you’d snapped, shoving another few fries in your mouth.

“Well—is there anything I can do to make ‘em feel better?”

“Nope,” you’d said without remorse, pointing towards the door, “Now go to work.”

In the scheme of his military career, Simon had learned a plethora of useful tactical knowledge. Flash before entry, watch your shots, switch to your sidearm instead of reloading—everything. Though, undoubtedly, the most useful thing he’d learned in all his years was this: know which fights you’d lose. And that one? Against his exhausted, pregnant wife and unborn child? Yeah, he’d sooner take on an entire squad of Konni than walk back into that bedroom.

He’d turned towards the door, ready to haul his ass his base—only to pause in his steps when your voice had called after him.

“But,” you’d begun, still happily munching away, “If you bring home pizza after work, I think the baby might forgive you…”

After that fiasco, he’d finally gotten to lay by your side again. And after a long movie night, his head in your lap while he pressed lazy kisses against your stomach, he’d learned something else: there was nothing on this planet earth that was worth missing out on moments like these. Your soft body in his grasp, and his child’s heartbeat just underneath his fingertips.

So when you clutch at his shirt, heavy belly pressed into his spine, he doesn’t think twice before he sits up in bed, pushing the covers down.

“You want hot and sour sauce?” He asks, pulling on his shoes in a daze.

“No, but can you get extra wings?”

He cocks his brow, sending you a scrutinizing look.

“You want extra wings?” He asks, brows raised.

You don’t even open your eyes. No, you just curl back against the pillow, a satisfied smile on your face.

“Simon Riley,” you begin, voice flowery and saccharine with sugar, “If try to starve this baby again, I’ll have you sleep in the barracks until your back is crying for help.”

“…I’ll get extra ranch, too.”

“You better.”

Now, six months in, Simon still had yet to recover. However, he was far from unhappy. No, if anything, he was more satisfied than he can ever remember being. When he was younger, he could scarcely imagine himself leading a life like this, with a beautiful woman at his side and a son that would be coming in the first month of autumn.

It was just as cloying as it was terrifying. But, at the very least, he knew that no matter what—no matter how hard the going got, or how many mistakes he made—you’d always be right there at his side, ready to walk with him no matter how long or arduous the path became.

He opens the line with a smile, looking down at the recruits.

“That you, love?” He greets, “What’s up?”

The line is quiet for a few seconds, an ambient shuffle on the other side. He hears you take in a low breath, but the next sound of out of your mouth, has his blood running cold.

A cry.

A loud, wheezing cry, one that’s so distraught he can hear it resounding around the room even over the phone. Instantly, his spine shocks straight, and any thoughts of army shenanigans fly to the back of his mind.

“Si—Simon,” you sob, static hitching around your voice.

He frantically pulls his hand out of his pocket, pushing the phone closer to his face.

“Love?” He asks, panic bleeding into his tone, “Are you okay? What’s happened?”

“Simon, I—I’m—” you try to speak, but your sobs are so violent you can barely manage to speak, waterlogged moans reverberating through the speakers like a siren. Instantly, his heart begins pounding in his chest, body rushing with adrenaline—one that was all too similar to how he felt in the field, bullets whizzing by, standing at death’s door.

“Love, just breathe,” he tells you, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see Soap straighten up in the four-wheeler, “Tell me. Are you okay?”

“No, Simon,” you sob, barely breathing, “How—how could you say that?”

Instantly, his stomach drops, and with every noise that escapes your mouth, something cold and dark climbs up his spine, a dread that was so unfamiliar he’d almost forgotten he could feel it in the first place. Something sharp pierces straight through his body when you speak again, reality washing over him like a bucket of ice water.

“How—how could you do this to me?” You ask him, voice wobbling, “After everything that we’ve gone through, and—and when I’m carrying your son—”

“Woah, woah, love, what’s—what’s happened? What’s wrong?” He begs you to tell him, breathe picking up into a pace that’s so rapid its nearly suffocating, “Just calm down. Take a deep breath. You just have to talk to me, okay?”

Without even thinking he begins walking faster, sending Soap a harrowed look. Before he can even speak, Soap jumps off of the trailer, eyes wide with worry of his own.

“What’s wrong with the missus? She okay?” He whispers, pulling the keys out of his pocket without an ounce of hesitation.

“Start the car,” he commands, nearly hyperventilating, “Start the car. Now.”

Soap doesn’t think twice before he jumps into action, clambering into the driver’s seat and turning the engine over before Simon can even hop into the passenger’s seat. In the background, he can hear the recruits’ boots plodding through the mud, their shouts fading into distant whispers underneath the flood of thoughts that race through his mind. His ears are ringing, eyes blind, and nothing aside from the horrid sound of your sobs registers inside of his wretched mind.

“Love, just—take a deep breath and talk to me,” he tells you, practically begging for you to tell him what’s wrong.

And yet, when nothing aside from more empty cries fills your side of the conversation, his mind and heart immediately jump to the worst possible scenario.

Maybe you fell down the stairs and couldn’t stand up.

Maybe you’d slipped in the kitchen and broken a bone.

Maybe you were in the back of the ambulance, clinging onto life.

Or maybe someone had broken into the house. Maybe they’d snatched you out of your bed, walked you down the stairs with a gun to your head. Maybe they told you they’d shoot you unless you got him on the phone, that they’d kill you if they couldn’t get to your husband. Maybe—just like Tommy, Beth, and Joseph—his past had caught up with you, too, and you were helpless but to pay the price of his mistakes.

At the thought of it, bile climbs up his throat, panic running through his veins like a rushing river. But just when it threatens to consume himself, he closes his eyes, trying desperately to remember what his therapist had told him when he’d reenlisted.

“Not all of those things are probable, Simon,” she’d said one day, “They’re only things that happened to you. They’re not eventualities. The hard part is reminding yourself that they’re unreasonable in the first place.”

You’re okay, he tells himself, You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.

But when the four-wheeler crests the hill with a mighty roar, Soap’s arms clenching around the steering wheel, not even the sound of the tires wrenching could erase the pain of your manic cries, voice cracking around his name.

And within a single second, the mantra ceases. Because even if Simon’s past couldn’t catch up with you, that didn’t mean something else hadn’t.

Instantly, his mind flashes with quite possibly the most distressing image of them all. You, hunched over the bathroom sink, red rivulets running down your precious legs, collecting in a dark pool at your feet. You, all alone, body shaking with pain and desperation, as the life inside of you died, all but helpless to watch your dreams disappear into a puddle of tears and blood.

Your baby—the most precious gift you ever could have given him—gone, just like that, in the blink of an eye.

At the thought, the nausea inside of his stomach is so viscious he nearly keels over. He clenches the dashboard of the four-wheeler in a white knuckled grip, instead.

“Love—” he begins, tears collecting in his eyes, “Just—stay right there, I’m coming home. I’ll be right there, okay? Just—just gotta hang on a little longer.”

“No,” you suddenly wail, “No—don’t come home. Don’t even think of it.”

“Love—” he scoffs, brows furrowing, “What?!”

He yells it over the sound of the four-wheeler, and Soap sends him a desperate look. One wrung with sympathy and fear just alike. Simon’s afraid he’s wearing the same exact look himself.

“Simon, this—” you take in a shaking breath, “This is—this is all your fault. I’m—I’m your wife, and you did this to me.”

At that, he can’t even think of something to say. He only blindly slaps his hand down on Johnny’s shoulder, fisting his shirt in a death grip.

“I’m your family,” you cry, “We—we’ve been together all these years. I waited for you after—after every deployment, and—and we have the same last name ’n everything. I—I loved you all these years, then you go and do this to me. Fuck, Simon, how could you—”

His panicked expression slowly drops, stomach settling. Slowly, his vision blurs, and the mess in his mind fizzles out into ashes within a single instance. Realization dawns over him slowly, and when it does, he taps Soap on the back with solemn resignation.

“Stop,” he tells the sergeant calmly, “Stop the car.”

“LT?” Soap asks, peeling the four-wheeler into an uneasy stop outside the front doors of the base.

“Fuck,” Simon keels over, resting his elbows on his knees. He buries his head in his hand, wiping over his eyes.

He knows what this is about.

“Love,” he begins, bracing for impact, “I swear that I—”

“You know what you did, you—you monster,” you sob, voice hitching around the insult.

At that, he can only breathe a deep, deep sigh of relief. He plants his hand against the dashboard, closing his eyes as he sends a quiet thank you to whatever powers may be.

You’re okay.

“Love,” he swallows, staring through the plastic windshield of the four-wheeler, “If I tell you I’m sorry, will you—”

“You’re not sorry,” you wail, no doubt burying your face in the couch cushions, “If you were sorry, you wouldn’t have done it. But—but you knew how much it meant to me, and you did it anyway!”

He takes a long breath, not daring to meet the eye of the sergeant next to him, who’s looking at him like he just grew a second head. Simon, however, is much too preoccupied with relief to do anything more than submit to your will, practically melting in his seat.

“I—I didn’t remember, baby, I’m sorry,” he coos, wincing when he hears you take a deep breath, no doubt about to yell through the receiver.

“Simon, you knew that I was saving the last Kit-Kat for lunch. I—I put a note on it and everything and I was thinking about it all—all day. You read it, shrugged, and ate it anyway—because you don’t love me.”

“No, no, it’s not that, baby,” he leans back in his chair, stifling a chuckle—that would only make you angrier, “The note must have fallen off. I swear I didn’t know it was the last one. Hand to heart, love. You know that I love you, baby. I married you, didn’t I?”

“You’re—you’re a liar and a degenerate, Simon Riley,” you sniffle, voice waterlogged and so serious he can’t even bring himself to smile at the hilarity of the situation, “I’m—I’m carrying your son, and you won’t even read the post-it notes I leave you…”

“I read them, love. There was that one on the strawberries, remember? I didn’t eat those, did I?” He argues.

Next to him, he can see Soap’s brows furrowing, a look of utter confusion coming over his face. Simon watches it with a huff, covering the receiver to send Soap a stifled look of relief.

“I ate the last candy bar at home,” he explains, shaking his head, “Thought I wanted to leave her.”

He doesn’t even wait for Soap to respond before he brings the phone back to his ear, continuing the conversation without a second passing. Meanwhile, Soap slowly turns back to the wheel, looking on in amusement.

“Is this what pregnancy’s like?” He mutters under his breath while Simon continues to whisper sweet platitudes into the phone.

“Look, love, how can I make it up to you ’n the kid? Want me to buy you some more candy bars on the way home?”

“No,” you huff, still crying, “We’re—we’re mad at you.”

“Love,” he sighs, eyes closing, “Look, what if I brought home Shake Shack? Avocado burger, large fry, and a strawberry shake—and I’ll even stop at Tesco’s on the way home to get you some more candy bars. That sound good?”

Through the phone, he hears the blankets shuffling. A small, dull sound filters through the speakers—another tissue pulled out of the tissue box—followed by a small, miserable whimper. Without missing a beat, anger and sadness still simmering in your waterlogged voice, you speak.

“Extra, extra avocado on the burger,” you mewl, sounding small and helpless, “And the shake has to have syrup on the whipped cream. With a st-strawberry instead of a cherry on top. And when you go to Tesco’s, you—you better bring back a Hershey’s bar or I’ll take back all the clothes I just bought you.”

“Got it, baby,” he sighs, smiling, “Extra, extra avocado burger, strawberry shake with a strawberry on top, Kit-Kats, and a Hershey’s bar. Anything else?”

“And…” you sniffle, wiping your nose, “And hot ’n sour sauce, too.”

“Okay,” he tells you, pinching his nose bridge, “I’ll be back before seven, okay?”

“Mm-hm.”

With that, the line goes dead—not even a single goodbye to be had—and he drops the phone into his lap with a deep breath inward. Mentally, he runs over a list of all the food you’d just listed off, memorizing their unique variations.

God, he shakes his head, All these strawberry shakes…his son’ll be ten pounds at least by the time he comes out.

Simon can’t even imagine what that day will be like. But, not a month ago, you’d spent an entire hour pouting on the couch, looking at him with all the viscousness of a newborn kitten. When he’d asked you what was wrong, you’d answered simply.

“Why do you have to be so damn big?” You’d asked him, struggling to maintain your scowl through your own tears, ��I'm the one carrying your son! He’ll rip me in half!”

Simon takes a deep breath, unable to contain the small grin that overcomes his lips. When the two of you get to that argument, he’ll be more than happy to let you complain about it so long as his son is safe and sound inside of his mother’s arms, chubby from so many months of Kit-Kats and strawberry shakes.

“LT,” Soap shocks you out of his reverie, “Is she…she okay?”

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, sitting back up, “She’s fine.”

“What about the baby?”

“The baby, too,” he answers, not even hiding his relief, “Just…pull around over there,” he points to the parking lot, “You heading back into the office?”

“Yeah, got an incident report to file from last night,” Soap answers.

“Good,” Simon stands from the four-wheeler, digging around in his pockets for the car keys, “Tell Price the wife needs me home early. Family emergency.”

With that, he turns on his heel, making a beeline for the truck. However, before he can tug open the door, Soap bellows a low whistle from the four-wheeler.

“I’ll see you at training tomorrow?” He yells.

“Probably,” Simon grimaces, “Might see me back tonight…save me a cot in the barracks.”

“Will do.”

Simon grunts, ambling up the steps of the front porch. The Shake Shack bag is precariously full inside of his arms, strawberry shake threatening to spill across the front of his shirt. But, with a deep breath in, he manages to make it up the final step with a slow balancing act, and he reaches for the door with uneasy hands.

However, it’s tugged open before he can even turn it. And standing right there, hands rubbing over your swollen belly, is the love of his life—eyes red and nose stuffy from so many tears. Without saying a word, you pluck the fast food bag out of his hands, plodding back into the house before he can even kiss you on the cheek.

Figures, he chuckles.

He shuts the door behind him, toeing off his shoes. But just before he drops his car keys in the bowl on the hallway table, a flash of pink crosses over his vision. With a quirked brow, he picks the post-it note off of the bottom of the bowl, squinting down at the scrawl of your writing across it.

I want pancakes for breakfast tomorrow, it reads, stained with tears.

At that, he can’t help but duck his head with an elated, loving scoff, tracing over the small pen marks.

Pancakes, huh?

Yeah, he could do pancakes tomorrow morning.

2K notes · View notes

prettyg1irlstears · 8 months ago

Note

i js saw ur pillow princess reader x rafe blurb n its amazing !!

but how would rafe x gf!reader be when rafes friends have been bringing up about how it feels good when ‘the girl takes charge’ but she gets upset n self conscious cs she literally cant, shes js a pillow princess at heart !! she wld constantly ask rafe if shes good enough in bed, if its fine she cant ride him like his friends have been showing off :(((

first of all thank you!!<33 second of all i’m so sorry if i’m answering late, but i hope you’ll like it<3

softbf!rafe x sub!reader

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

you’re in the large living room of tannyhill, a pretty sundress on while sitting of your boyfriend’s lap, listening to the conversation between him and his mates.

you were telling rafe that you’ll come tomorrow, that it’s fine if he wants to have a ‘all bro evening’, but rafe insisted on you staying, so you did, because you’re his good girl.

so here you are, playing with rafe’s fingers as the boys don’t bother to acknowledge or respect your presence and talk about their girls.

“bro, my girl’s wildin’ when she takes charge,” kelce boasted, smirking as he took a swing of his beer. “doin’ all the work, feels so good.”

your chest tugs anxiously, slightly squeezing rafe’s fingers as you listen.

“yea i feel ya, man,” topper adds, grinning as he high-fives kelce. “wish you could see the way sarah moves on me ‘cause like goddamn..”

you feel yourself getting uncomfortable, partly because they’re talking about their girlfriends like they were a piece of meat, but mostly because you know you’ll forever be a pillow princess.

“yo, top,” rafe feels jow uncomfortable you are, stroking your silky hair lovingly, thinking it’s just because the conversation’s too much for you. “it’s my sister, man, don’t be gross,”

“sorry bro, not my fault she’s freaky,” topper sneers, kelce chuckling along with him.

you withdrawn a little bit, nuzzling into rafe’s chest as your mind runs a marathon. you were never able to take charge, especially in bed. you and rafe tried it a few times, but you always get all shy and embarrassed, just simply not finding it in yourself to be dominant. but now, after you heard the boys’ conversation, you feel even worse than ever.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“you okay, baby?” rafe asks you softly. the boys have already left, you’re now helping rafe clean the beer cans and pizza boxes. he has noticed something’s off — he always does.

“mm good ray, just tired.” you fake a yawn and give him a small smile.

that seems to make rafe calmer, maybe he just doesn’t want to press you. he comes over to you, placing his hands on your waist. “can we still do sum’ or are you like really tired?”

you chuckle and look up at him. “no we can still do something.” because even though you still feel bad, you can still feel a little wet spot making itself in your panties just from that one simple sentence.

rafe smiles and kisses you, his hands moving from your waist to squeeze your butt. “alright let’s get to bed, hm?”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

you thought it would make your mind go elsewhere, like always, but even when you’re a moaning mess under the muscular body of your boyfriend, you’re still thinking about it.

“what’s the matter, bunny?” rafe grunts into your neck as he kisses it, giving you long and deep thrusts.

“n-no, no!” you let out in a whimper, squeezing his shoulders. “please don’t stop.”

rafe smirks, slowing his pace even more as he bites on a soft spot of your neck. “then what is it?”

you whimper at that, but you can’t keep your worries inside anymore. “am i good enough for you?” as soon as these words leave your mouth, rafe stops, stilling inside of you, making you let out a small whimper of disapproval.

“baby.. baby look at me, will ya?” he gently takes your chin in his hand, making you look up into his eyes.

you look, his hand caressing your cheek as you look up at him with those puppy eyes of yours.

“why would you ask that?” he asks, his voice soft as he has no idea where this is coming from. “of course you are, you always were and always will, baby.”

“because i can’t ride you.. can’t make you feel good..” you say quietly, tears welling up in your eyes. “mm sorry rafe, i just can’t..”

“hey, hey, look at me, baby..” he makes you look at him again, his hands running through your hair and caressing your cheek. “that’s perfectly fine, bunny. you’re perfect, i swear to god,”

you’re looking into his eyes, nervously playing with his curtain bangs. “are you sure? ‘cause i felt really bad earlier..”

rafe chuckles a little, kissing your forehead. “baby, don’t listen to those two pricks. can’t appreciate their girls like i can apprexiate mine.”

he kisses your lips softly, slowly starting to move inside you again. “i love you being my little pillow princess.” he grunts at the movements, earning a tiny moan from you. “wouldn’t change for anything, baby.”

“you mean it..?” you ask, leaving out tiny whimpers as he moves slowly yet deeply, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“absolutely,” he whispers, kissing your lips while leaving out small moans. “don’t have any idea what you do to me like this.”

“alright..” you feel a shy smile growing on your lips, tugging on his hair as his tip hits that one spot inside you. “r-rafe.. please.. faster..”

“faster, yeah?” rafe smirks, increasing his pace, holding the side of your neck, earning sweet little moans from you that make his cock twitch inside of you.

“don’t need ya to take charge, baby..” he lets out a pretty moan into your ear. “js’ fucking you like this is enough for me to go absolutely crazy.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe cameron smut #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe imagine #rafe x you #drew starkey #bf!rafe #prettyg1rlstears #blurbs𐙚

3K notes · View notes

cillivnz · 5 months ago

Text

RING-POP

PAIRING. sam monroe x f!reader

SYNOPSIS. sam makes you try a different version of your favorite candy; bigger and bitter.

WARNINGS. NSFW themes (18+), pet-names, cursing, dirty-talk & too many puns (i swear this punk cannot shut up), name-calling (brat, dumb girl), brat-taming, degradation, slight dacryphilia, perv!sam, clueless!reader, oral sex (m! receiving), face-fucking, bondage, slight slapping (with a belt, with his cock), hair-pulling, sexualising food?

SMACK, SLURP, POP. the sounds filled sam’s humid room. his brow furrowed further, a look of disdain washing over his pale features at the noise. the videogame in front of him needed all his heed, but it seemed like his brat, bambi, demanded some of that attention, too.

“stop that,” he groaned, frustrated. the sound of his thumbs assaulting the buttons on his controller should’ve been all that was heard, had you not been deep-throating the candy sam made the mistake of getting you. “what— i’m just having my candy,” you whined before continuing, “—and besides, if you have a problem, why don’t you let me sit away from you—” he was quick to shut down that idea, gripping the flesh of your thighs. maybe sam was in the wrong for getting you the cherry ring-pop, your favourite, and maybe it wasn’t the best idea to have you perched on his lap, sitting comfortably (cluelessly) on his aching boner, but in his defence, he just wanted to feast his eyes on the sight of your plump lips wrapped around the toy candy, sucking and slurping, just as you are now like the good girl you are, but once he switched his playstation on, the competitive side came out.

you shift to your comfort in his lap, feeling the tent in his pants poke directly into your mound. you had an arm crossed over sam’s neck, bringing the ring-clad finger to your mouth and sucking. at the taste of the sweet cherry juices dripping into your mouth, you groan in sam’s ear.

the sounds traveled straight to his cock, his mind tuning out his reality— the game at hand— just to focus at your skilful tongue, stained red by the candy. “if you don’t quit it—” he sighed, his voice strained. the next thing you know, his character is being obliterated by the enemy. you stifled a giggle, your plan worked.

sam had left you so, so worked up. choosing to take out his frustration with his family on some stupid toy, rather than your willing pussy. ever since that day at the playground, you couldn’t go a day without sam pounding into your drooling cunt. even if it was always him starting it, he got you to finish, and you were forever grateful for it. but today? when you dolled up in all black— tank top and skirt— with red lingerie, he decided to pick up that gaming console and not let go.

“alright, bambi, i’ve had it with you,” he gets up abruptly, causing you to hit the ground and land on your knees. you gasped, offended.

his hands, full of real, crude metal were quick to move, undoing his belt, unlike your delicate hand that was motionless with the toy ring perched on it. the leather of his studded belt flicked across your cheek, causing you to look up at sam through wet lashes. he only smirked at the sight. your eyes flicked to the bulge revealed in his boxers, and now your mouth watered for a taste that wasn’t cherry ring-pop.

“‘like to suck your candy, huh, brat?” he squeezed your cheeks together. “since you’ve been practising in my goddamn ears all day,” he continued, pulling out his cock, “let’s see how good you’ve gotten.” his cock was slapped against the same spot at the belt. you only stared at him through your long lashes, unwilling to satiate when you’re unsatisfied yourself. “come on, bambi, open up,” he squeezed your cheeks again, causing your mouth to gape open. “i can’t guarantee it tastes like cherries, but you’re open to trying sweet-n-salty, aren’tcha?” he giggled, amused at his own snarky comments.

the fat tip of his cock pressed into your plump, gape lips, and instinctively, your tongue stuck out to lick it. “there we go,” sam sighed, ready to return to cloud 9.

you sheepishly swirled your tongue around the bulbous tip of his cock, relishing in the taste of his precum oozing into your tastebuds. oh, yeah, you’ve found yourself a new favourite flavour.

“hands up for me, bambi,” he sighed, breathless already. you oblige, eyes widening when his belt snaked over your wrists, tying them in an unholy matrimony. your hands rested in your lap, preventing you from pleasuring yourself like you intended to. “now, open wide f’me.” you’re obedient, eager to please, for you know if sam’s satisfied he would overlook the ‘punishment’ and stick his cock into you. your pussy flutters at the thought of being full again.

as your throat relaxed around him, you started taking more and more of his length, looking up at him through your lashes to seek his validation, and the mere sight was rewarding. his brows furrowed, a pink flush crept into his pale skin, while his lips were plump and agape, marks of his teeth etched into the skin. “your mouth was made to suck cock, y’know that— my cock. you’re only gonna squeeze my cock with that fuckin’ throat, y’hear?” he nods, authoritative yet cooing, “is my girl understanding me?” so you bobble your head along with length. “fuck yeah, brat. going dumb on my cock,” he moans, and you were eager to illicit more of those sounds.

you relax your jaw, inhale deeply, and let him take charge. when sam realises this, the little devil smirks, running his fingers through your scalp to tug at your hair.

his cock pistons in and out of your throat, your eyes watering and your breath haggard. your pussy clenched around nothing but the flooded dampness of your cotton panties.

“oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fu—” incoherent grunts and groans filled the room along with the delirious smell of your arousals. “fuuuuck, bambi,” sam’s thrusts got sloppier.

“you know,” he spoke, breathless yet mischievously, “this candy comes with a creamy centre,” he chuckled, grunting as he came undone in your mouth. “sweet n’ salty, yeah?” he stroked his cock, relishing in the sight of his heavy load dripping down your plump lips. you were quick to swallow every drop, selfishly devouring your favourite candy. you wondered if this was gluttony or lust?

when satiated, sam pulled away, tucking his cock away. you, too, get up from the floor, wincing at the pain of kneeling down for too long.

you shimmy out of your clothes, making your way towards his bed. sam sees you in the corner of his eye, an eyebrow irking at your actions, “what do you think you’re doing,” he asked plainly, leaving you confused. “i- you’re fucking me, right?” you had a pitiful look on your face, so eager to chase your own release with his assistance. “like hell i will, dumb girl,” sam scoffed, “brats don’t get pleasure after punishment,” he shrugged coldly, grabbing his gaming console.

he pointed towards his thighs, “sit your ass back down,” you whine, “but i’ll be so boooored,” yet perch on his lap, still.

“—and i finished my ring-pop,” you sigh in frustration. sam chuckles, “don’t worry, i’ll have your new favourite out in a minute,”

“this flavour never finishes, just keeps on coming.”

THIS PUNK—

SEE ALSO. playground [PRELIMINARY FIC]. more of Sam Monroe [MEAN!SAM, BIMBO!READER AND OTHER TROPES].

1K notes · View notes

osachiyo · 1 year ago

Text

ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ʟɪᴍɪᴛ ! | ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ

⟣ ──┈ · · · + ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ➣ nanami x fem!reader

⟣ ──┈ · · · + ᴄᴡ ➣ nsfw content (mdni or I'll beat you), brat!reader, hard dom!nanami, hairpulling, pussy slapping, spanking, fingering, throat fucking, bathroom sex, degradation, teasing, jealousy, 1.3k+ words of filth

⟣ ──┈ · · · + ᴀ/ɴ ➣ I'M SO SORRY FOR HOLDING THIS UP FOR SO DAMN LONG this man makes me so damn feral it's not even funny.. this is for my angel @nanamibeloved (hope I did ur man justice rylie !!)

⟣ ──┈ · · · + sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ➣ during your house warming party, you have the genius idea of flirting with your husband's co-worker, how wrong could it go, right?

Kento was pissed, to say the least. You guys threw a house warming party tonight, just for you to cling onto satoru's arm the entire goddamn night. It was infuriating, and downright insulting to your husband, Kento. He was way too prideful to show it though, brushing you both off with a wave of his hand as he sips on his drink.

Somehow he lasted until dinner, you being seated next to Satoru, tits pressed up against his arm as you giggle at his stupid jokes. You were supposed to sit next to him, not the white haired dumbass. He was gonna be patient, though. There will be plenty of time to punish you later− "oh my, 'toru your muscles are so big!" You giggled, shamelessly feeling your husband's co-worker up in front of him as Satoru's lips stretched to reveal a sleazy smirk, and your lover decided he had enough. Cursing under his breath, Kento formed a polite smile, excusing himself from the dinner table before discreetly glaring at your direction, silently demanding you go with him. You smirked to yourself, this is exactly what you wanted.

You were slammed against the bathroom door as soon as you locked the door. You looked up to see your husband towering over you, a menacing aura surrounding him, it intimidated and turned you on at the same time, your thighs clenching together, god− you wanted him so bad.

"on your knees," Kento's jaw was clenched, palms flat against the door, effectively trapping you in. Scoffing, you tugged on his cheetah print tie, yanking him closer to you, "why don't you make me?" You could almost see the vein popping out of his forehead, "so you're playing that game, huh? fine, have it your way." Was the last thing he uttered before you were pushed down to your knees, a large veiny hand tangled in your roots as you winced in pain. "ow! kento− it took me like 3 hours to style my hai−" you were cut off by your husband's hardened length slapping against your cheek, effectively shutting you up. "I don't want to hear your blabbering," he sighed, pushing the bulbous tip past your lips as he shuddered in delight. "now, get to work, slut." You whined at the derogatory name, licking the underside of his cock before taking him in your mouth again, suckling lightly on the tip. He hissed when you slowly started to take him fully into your mouth, fingers tangled in your hair tightening with each inch you swallow. You took half of him before abruptly pulling off− his brows twitched in annoyance and he breaths a quiet "enough" before slamming into your mouth forcefully, the mushroom tip reaching the very back of your throat as you sputter and gag on it, not expecting him to be so rough. he keeps going till your lips touch the small tuff of dirty blonde hair near his base before pulling out almost completely− then brutally thrusting back into the wet heat of your mouth.

It went like that for what felt like an eternity− brutally thrusting in and out, in and out until you were on the verge of passing out, your hands that were previously slapping and scratching at his muscular thighs now went almost limp beside you before he pulled out with a groan. He felt a pang of guilt in his heart when he saw you coughing and breathing heavily, saliva and precum dripping down your chin in webs, trying your best to get air back in your lungs. But all of that guilt quickly disappeared once you looked up at him with a cocky but weak smirk, tears gathered in your lashes− "that all you got? I'm disappointed."

Oh you were such a vixen, and that's exactly what he loved about you. He was going to break you.

Even as he pushed you onto the marbel sink, large hands prying your thighs apart and he could practically smell your arousal− saliva pooling in his mouth. God, he needed to taste you. Right now.

And he did− thumb sliding your panties to the side as his tongue licks a fat stripe up your cunt, savouring your bitter sweet taste on his eager tongue. The tip of his tongue gently circled your swollen clit, your hands clawing at the smooth marble as you arch further into his mouth− only to be put back in place as he presses down on your lower tummy, looking up at you from between your legs, his saliva and your slick coating his chin as he peers up at you with those beautiful, brown eyes that held jealousy, lust and most importantly− so much love and adoration for you. The look in his eyes let you know that this was indeed, the man you fell in love with. The sweet, caring Ken−

Your thoughts got cut off by him slipping his tongue into your hole, groaning lowly at the taste− his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs; rough and calloused from his ruthless years of jujutsu. He'd never get tired of your addicting taste on his skilled tongue, it was almost like dopamine to him− the feeling of your clit throbbing against his tongue as he slurped everything you had to offer. "god, could never get tired of this pussy," he groaned lowly into your cunt, the vibrations from his gravelly voice against your sensitive core made your head spin− how was he so fucking good at this? Every time felt like the first time with him and you loved it− you both did, really.

He loved how your thighs trembled pathetically as he blew on your clit, two thick fingers slipping in to massage your inner walls. His tongue lapping and sucking softly on your little bud before biting it gently, laughing cruelly when you tried to close your thighs around his head. "darling, you're only making things worse for yourself," he sighed calmly before brutally cracking a hand down on your inner thigh, making the soft flesh jiggle and sting as you let out a pained yelp, a fresh wave of tears gathering in your pitiful eyes.

"s' mean.." you sniffled, timidly wiping your tears with the back of your hand, broken gasps emitting from your mouth as he lands soft slaps on your pussy, webs of slick sticking to his fingers as they collide with your aching cunt. "didn't you want this?" He scoffed, two fingers spreading your lips apart and licking his lips at your hole clenching on nothing as it gushed more of your sweet essence− pooling on the fancy marble. "wanted to be taught a lesson− and fucked stupid? huh?" he swiftly landed two spanks right on your clit− a loud cry leaving your mouth and he glared at you with those brown− almost fully black now eyes, effectively getting you to quiet down. You didn't want to see what happens if you angered him further. You honestly didn't expect him to be this rough.

But you couldn't get yourself to complain when he flipped you around, taking his beloved tie off and binding your hands behind you− tight. He easily picked you up and pushed you against the door once again, face smushed against the high quality wood as he pushed your panties down to your knees in one fluid motion− quickly lining up with your entrance before pushing the fat tip in, making the both of you let out quiet moans. Your nails were digging into the sweaty palms of your hand at this point− yelping in surprise when he grabbed your hair and yanked your face to the side before enveloping your parted lips in a kiss. The kiss was much sweeter and gentle compared to his borderline brutal thrusts− a perfect balance, if you will.

Your ass recoiled with each slam of his hips against it, nasty squelching sounds filling the walls as you tried your very best to stay quiet. But unfortunately for you, your husband wasn't having any of that. Instead of shushing and telling you to keep quiet− he encouraged you to be louder− to scream his name until your lungs burned. He wanted you to be so damn loud so that fucker Satoru would know that you're his− that you're Kento's and he would make sure of it.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

#˚˙᭕ chiyoh's works ᭕˙˚#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x reader smut #nanami kento smut #nanami x reader smut

8K notes · View notes

disaster-writer · 4 months ago

Text

Obsessed

Pairing: Pro-hero!Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

Summary: Bakugo is obsessed with your ex and it’s driving you up a wall (Inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s song Obsessed)

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Smut, 18+

A/N: a few weeks ago I saw a post that was about this same concept, and I couldn’t find it to link it here unfortunately. I just thought it fit so well with him that I wanted to write my own take on it. Also this is just comedy, obviously his behavior in this would be problematic in real life so I’m definitely not condoning his obsession.

Minors DNI

Bakugo Katsuki’s eyes danced from cover to cover of every one of the magazines stocked in the stand at the convenience store he regularly stopped at after work. Each one baring a hero with advertisements of their interview inside. He noticed that some of his friends had even made the cover, notably Shitty Hair’s and Racoon Eye’s engagement announcement and a magazine that Dunce Face had recently modeled for.

But there was one specific cover he was glaring at.

His hands crackled.

Fuck it.

He hadn’t hesitated any longer before grabbing the magazine and staring at it with scrutinizing eyes.

Fucking Hawks

That fucking asshole was on the cover of another magazine— as if the other million with him on it wasn’t good enough.

He rifled through the pages, landing on the one that the cover said his interview would be on. It wasn’t one, or two, but four fucking pages long.

He read it furiously, eyes bouncing from each and every word.

‘What would you say is the most rewarding part of your hero work?’

Who gives a crap.

‘How have you learned to balance fame with being a hero?’

Absolute shit question.

‘Everyone knows you have a large female fanbase, so we’re all curious to know why you think that is?’

Because they’re all fucking idiots with shit taste, that’s why.

‘About two years ago you were part of a pretty big scandal when you were seen leaving your agency hand in hand with a hooded woman. Now that some time has passed are you willing to admit that she’s your girlfriend?’

No she was his fucking girlfriend, not that fucking asshole pretty boys—

The magazine blew up in his hands.

”Hey!” The store clerk yelled at the hero, “I don’t care if you’re a hero, you have to pay for that! What kind of business do you think I’m running!?”

“HAH!?” Bakugo puffed up his chest with a sneer as he stormed up to the counter, “MAYBE YOU SHOULDN’T KEEP SHIT MAGAZINES HERE IF YOU DON’T WANT THEM BLOWN UP! GET SOME BETTER SHIT! I’M OUTTA HERE!” He yelled furiously at the man before storming out of the store and slamming the door shut, shattering its glass.

The clerk ran up to the door in a rage, screaming something or other at the hero as he stormed down the sidewalk angrily.

He’d probably need to find a new convenience store.

Bakugo continued to stomp his way down the sidewalk as he walked to your apartment. He shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled his phone out, pulling up google.

He found his fingers quickly tapping away at the screen.

Hawks

Picture after picture of that stupid hero came up and his finger swiped through each one as he sneered at his stupid face that even Bakugo couldn’t deny was objectively attractive— not to mention he had this air of coolness around him, making every single goddamned thing he did seem effortless.

Bakugo was seething, passerby’s staring at him in fear as they watched him silently rage on such a beautiful, clear day.

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of your door, shoving the spare key under the mat into the lock.

”Hey, Kat!” You chirped, looking over at him from the kitchen, “How was work?”

“Fine,” he grumbled, walking over to you and taking a peak at the dinner you were cooking. Looked like chicken soup but knowing you and your cooking skills it was probably some amalgamation of whatever was in your fridge. “Couldn’t fuckin wait an hour?”he grumbled— he would’ve cooked for you if you weren’t so damn impatient.

”You were taking too long,” you whined, throwing some celery into the pot. “I got hungry.”

He grunted, reaching for your hips and turning you into him, slamming his lips into yours.

Hawks probably used to kiss you more gently— he could just picture him seducing you into kissing him, making you chase for it.

Not Bakugo. No, if he wanted to kiss you then he was going to fucking kiss you.

You pulled away breathlessly, a hairs breadth away from him, “Whoa— what was that for?”

He stared down at you with hooded eyes.

He was better than Hawks.

He could even prove it.

He turned the stove off and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder.

”Hey— what are you doing!” You yelped, kicking your legs.

“Bedroom,” he grunted.

”But what about dinner?”

“I’ll fix whatever mess you started in there later. I’m making sure you work up a real appetite.”

* * * *

Bakugo’s hips smacked against your ass sharply, balls hitting your clit with every thrust, each slap louder than your muffled moans in the pillow you clung to for dear life.

One hand gripped the headboard as his other gripped your hip in a bruising hold. He stared at you, hunched over your trembling body as tears clung to your lashes.

Hawks couldn’t fuck you like this— no damn way.

But what if he could— he technically was the number two hero, while Bakugo was still stuck at number 15.

What if he fucked you better?

The thought had Bakugo fisting your hair and pulling you up, freeing your pleasured moans and cries.

”K-Kat— ah, fuck—“

Did you even mean to say his name? What if you really meant to say Hawks’— what if you meant Hawks every single time you ever said his name?

”Tell me you’re mine,” he grunted.

”’M yours— all yours Kat— only yours,” you babbled uselessly. He’d be lying if it wasn’t one of his favorite things about you in bed, given any sort of prompt and you just ran with it.

“Who fucks you this good?”

”Y-you! You do!— You fuck me so good Kat—ah- best cock I’ve ever had—“

He growled, wrapping his arms around you and hoisting you up, now fucking up into you as he held you against him, head lolling on his shoulder.

He bit down on your neck hard, making you cry out as he started sucking on it, sure to leave a nasty hickey behind.

Maybe Hawks would see. He knew neither of you even talked anymore but what if he’s just on patrol, sees you, decides to say hi, and finds that dark bruise right on your neck, sucked raw.

The thought had him bouncing you faster against him, his muffled groans into your neck sounding with your high pitched cries of his name.

He wound his hand down to your clit and rubbed back and forth furiously.

”Oh fuck—“ you sobbed, body arching and trying to get away, but he tightened his arm around you and held you in place.

”Cum pretty girl, cum around the best fucking cock you’ve ever taken.”

You came with a shrill cry, grasping for any part of him you could hold onto.

He came soon after, inside.

He knew he shouldn’t but something about cumming in you sated whatever beast was inside him.

You whined as you slumped into his arms, weak and shaky.

”You promised Kat.”

”Couldn’t help it.”

”Then you’re wearing condoms again.” You huffed as he lowered you down on your side of the bed.

He tsked, “Go on birth control.”

”I’m not fucking with my hormones.”

”Damn woman,” he growled, laying beside you, “I’ll get you a plan B, just quit your whining.”

”You’re wearing a condom next time.”

”Yeah yeah, fine.”

”And go make dinner.”

He pulled you against him, your body curling against him with your head on his chest. “In a second. Lemme catch my breath and help clean you up first.”

You huffed but nuzzled against him.

He liked having you curled up against him but he couldn’t deny there was an ulterior motive to him ‘catching his breath’.

He just really loved the fact that you were laying with his cum dripping out of you right now.

Not Hawks’s cum— Katsuki’s

The rest of the night went as it routinely did for the most part. He fixed the mess of the soup you were working on before eating you out and making you cum three times then fucking you for a second time… then a third time.

And when you thought he was finally done, you went to shower and get on with your shower routine only for him to walk in half way through your shower with his dick hard again.

He fucked you for a fourth time.

All with a condom.

”Seven times,” you breathed as your head hit the pillow. “You made me cum seven times tonight.”

Your limbs were sore, Bakugo had to carry you to bed. Your legs were basically useless now.

“What’s gotten into you tonight— it’s only a Tuesday.”

Marathon’s like these weren’t exactly out of the norm, but tonight felt so unprompted.

He grunted, turning on his side and pulling you against his chest, clinging to you like a Koala.

”I’m not allowed to want to fuck my girlfriend?” He murmured into your hair.

”No… just felt out of no where that’s all.”

”What? You didn’t like it?” He growled defensively.

You rolled your eyes, slotting your legs with his. Everything was always so dramatic with him, “No I liked it. Best cock I’ve ever had, remember?” You snickered.

His arms tightened around you… now he was thinking of the other cock you’ve taken.

”Better than the birds?”

“Oh my god,” you hissed, annoyance dripping from every word, “Really Katsuki? This again?”

”What? It’s a simple fucking question.”

”Yes. Your cocks better than Keigo’s. Happy now?”

Silence filled the room. You thought maybe he dropped it and you closed your eyes.

”Are you just saying that to shut me up?”

”Kat,” you snapped, eyes opening again. “Drop it. I’ve already told you everything about that relationship. Just move the fuck on— I already have.”

He was silent once again.

”Do you still have his number in your phone?”

You cursed to yourself… this was going to be a longer night than you thought.

* * * *

Bakugo stared out the window as you snored lightly in your sleep, burying his nose in your freshly washed hair.

He couldn’t sleep knowing he was laying in the same spot Hawks once had.

Did he used to hold you just like this too?

When you mentioned your ex in past conversations he had thought nothing of it. You were a civilian, your life was normal, he always figured this ex you mentioned was some boring ass nine to five guy that put the most generic shit in a dating profile like ‘Favorite Hobby: Traveling’.

Of course Bakugo would be better than that guy.

Come to find out you were in a long term relationship with the number fucking two hero.

What the fuck was it about you that attracted high ranking heroes of all people.

Like yeah you were cool and fun and magnetic and didn’t take shit from anyone— you were even able to go head to head with him in a screaming match which shouldn’t have been as attractive as he found it. Not to mention how fucking hot you were…

Okay fine, Bakugo thought you were goddamned perfect any man would be a fucking idiot if they didn’t find you any less than perfect like he did.

But still.

Number fucking two.

Hawks had always been cool and collected, saving people every day without lifting a finger. He dominated the skies and had a trail of girls drooling after him. The media loved him— everyone loved him.

Bakugo on the other hand… not so much. How could you go from someone like Hawks to Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.

From number two to number 15.

One day he would become number one but he still wasn’t quite there yet.

Ever since he found out he had found himself thinking of the hero more than he ever had before. Hawks dominated every second of his life.

Is he still friends with your friends? Is he good in bed? Do you ever think about him? Is he easy-going? Not controlling like Bakugo sometimes could be?

Oh god.

He had issues.

* * * *

“Y’know they were in love,” Bakugo practically gagged.

Kirishima side eyed his friend.

He was seriously over talking about Hawks every single time he patrolled with Bakugo.

”Isn’t she in love with you now?”

”That’s what she says,” he grumbled.

”You don’t believe her?”

”No, I believe her. I just think she’s confused.”

He was really starting to lose it, huh?

”Don’t you think,” Kirishima started, choosing his next words carefully as he waved at a little kid they walked by, elbowing Bakugo to do the same. “It’s unhealthy to think about your girlfriend’s ex this much? It’s been like two years since they broke up hasn’t it?”

”19 months and three days.”

Oh boy.

”Okay… have you tried talking to her about your obsession—“

”IT’S NOT A FUCKING OBSESSION!” He suddenly exploded, hands crackling. “WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP SAYING THAT!”

Kirishima didn’t even flinch as he screamed, instead offering an apologetic smile to the civilians on the sidewalk. “Maybe because you started asking how he is in bed after you two had sex?”

”SHUT UP SHITTY HAIR, NO ONE ASKED YOU!”

“So you haven’t talked to her then?”

Bakugo growled in response.

”Maybe talk to him?”

Bakugo looked over at his friend, eyes wide as he watched Kirishima walk beside him with his arms crossed behind his head, staring up at the sky. “Talk to Hawks?”

The idea had never struck him before.

”Yeah. Maybe you just need to meet him. You’ve probably just built up this grand image of him that the media keeps perpetuating— he might not be as perfect as you think, they always did say never to meet your heroes.”

Meet Hawks.

Yeah— he could do that.

Bakugo was suddenly blasting away from his friend.

”Hey! We’re still doing a job you know!?”

“I’m working by myself today!” He called out behind him.

Bakugo was on a mission.

He was going to meet Hawks and give him a piece of his mind.

The hero was often spotted perching on rooftops, miles away from his agency as any villain with a brain would know better than to commit a crime right by a hero agency— Hawks’s agency especially.

So Bakugo found himself bounding from rooftop to rooftop, searching the skies for that damn bird— he was also keeping an eye on the city, he was still a hero with a job after all.

But as the sun started to set, Bakugo grew restless, finally deciding to take a break and lay on one of the many rooftops he landed on.

No damn sign of him.

Of course he’d be hard to catch, his whole schtick was being fast.

Bakugo’s eyes narrowed at a cloud that reminded him of bird wings. He wondered if you two ever got up to weird sexual shit with those stupid wings.

His chest felt so damn tight every time he thought of him, like he could explode at any second.

He knew so much useless crap about him now that he read and watched practically every single interview of his.

He was a Capricorn.

His blood type was B.

He was 5’7” and 3/4.

His favorite food was chicken— goddamn cannibal.

He wondered if that was why you were in the habit of cooking chicken for dinner most nights.

You were together for two and a half years, that was a long time to spend with someone. What mannerisms have you picked up from him that he always believed were yours?

He pulled out his phone and pulled up Hawks’s instagram, scrolling through perfect photo after perfect photo of him and reading his replies to fan comments.

Damn bird probably didn’t even run his own account.

He tapped on his tags, scrolling down to one of the many photos that haunted him.

He remembered the news at the time, headlines reading ‘Pro-Hero Hawks Has A Girlfriend’ and ‘Sorry Ladies, This Hero is Taken’.

At the time he couldn’t give less of a shit, but now.

It was all he could fucking think about.

He stared at the photo of Hawks dragging a hooded woman by the hand out of his agency. He scrolled and stared at the second photo of him grinning down at the woman.

It was you all right.

There weren’t any other pictures of the two of you out in public and it irked him. It was like an itch that couldn’t be scratched as he wondered just how the two of you looked together in your relationship.

Did you have any pictures of the two of you in your phone?

That was when the sunlight was completely blocked, blanketing him in shadow.

He lowered his phone and his quirk nearly blew up the device.

Fucking Hawks.

His eyes followed the bird as he perched on a telephone pole near the rooftop.

”There a reason you’re lounging on a roof, hero?” Hawks asked with an amused smirk.

Bakugo only stared— was this real or had he actually lost his mind now?

He raised a brow at his silence, tilting his head, reminding Bakugo of an owl. “You didn’t get hit by a quirk or something did you?”

He suddenly had no idea what to say— he hadn’t actually planned anything out to begin with. He figured his mouth would take over like usual and he’d go from there.

”Wait, I know you,” he suddenly snapped his fingers, “You’re that hero Dynamight.”

”THAT’S GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GOD DYNAMIGHT TO YOU.”

Hawks blinked at the outburst before he barked out a laugh.

”WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING AT BIRD BRAIN!?” He shouted, stomping his way over to the edge of the roof.

”Nothing, nothing,” he laughed, waving his hand, “That’s a great name.”

”ARE YOU MAKING FUN OF ME!” He screamed again, throwing his hand up and blasting off an explosion straight at Hawks.

Hawks’s eyes widened as he quickly darted upwards, missing the attack. “Y’know I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to be on the same side,” he called out, watching Bakugo as he seethed.

”Same side my ass,” he growled under his breath, “Is my girlfriend’s number still in your phone!?”

”Your girlfriend?” Hawks scoffed, “I don’t know who’s been lying to you but I can promise I don’t have your girlfriend’s number—“

”(Y/N) (L/N)!”

Hawks’s face fell, “You’re dating (Y/N)?”

”YES I AM, YOU STUPID BIRD.”

”Alright fine,” he shrugged, “I guess I do have your girlfriend’s number.”

Bakugo screamed as he hurled blast after blast at Hawks, to which he swiftly dodged each and every one.

He stopped, panting as he searched the sky for him as the smoke cleared, only to find the man standing in front of him.

”Is there a reason you’re trying to kill me? (N/N) moan my name while you two fucked or something?”

A fierce rage boiled in him at the nickname, “DON’T CALL HER THAT!”

He began shooting more and more explosions at him.

Hawks tsked.

What a bother— were you really dating this guy?

He sent his feathers straight at Bakugo, each one catching onto any piece of fabric it could without slicing him and another set of feathers sliding off his gauntlets.

He had Bakugo pinned against the rooftop, palms against the concrete.

Hawks walked through the smoke, staring down at the struggling, screaming man with an unamused expression.

He kneeled down. “You’re aware we broke up like two years ago.” He said flatly, this was so ridiculous, he could barely remember what happened the last time he talked to you.

”19 months and three days,” he spat.

“Whoa,” his eyes widened before a grin tugged on his lips, “You have issues huh?” He only laughed as Bakugo continued to scream at him. “You also know she’s the one that broke up with me, right?”

”Of course she did! Because you’re a fucking dumbass who can’t fuck!”

“Can’t fuck? She tell you that? Because I remember her telling me something very different.”

Bakugo saw red, now thinking about you moaning about Hawks’s dick the same way you moaned about his.

He sighed, standing up and crossing his arms over his chest. “Y’know… it’s been quite a while since I’ve seen her. And I suppose I should cut your rampage short. Let’s go on a little trip.”

* * * *

You hummed, dancing around your kitchen while you cooked. Bakugo was late, but that was fine, he probably got held up with hero work.

You knew he’d probably yell at you for cooking dinner without him again but you were sticking to a chicken dish that you had perfected so he could complain all he wanted while eating his deliciously seasoned chicken.

There was a knock at your door.

”One second!” You called out, quickly washing your hands. It was probably the landlord again.

You turned your music off, humming as you skipped over to the door and opened it.

Your smile immediately fell.

Keigo fucking Takami leaned against the wall across your door with your boyfriend, who was currently wrapped up in a bandage capture weapon from his ankles to his mouth, being floated by Keigo’s feathers.

”It’s come to my attention that you’ve lost something,” He coolly stated with one of those grins you used to see on almost a daily basis.

Bakugo was screaming into the bandage around his mouth, not a single word coming out coherently.

Your head fell as you pinched the bridge of your nose, “For the love of God please tell me I’m being pranked.” You groaned.

”Not today sweetheart.”

More screaming ensued. “Alright,” you huffed, “Come in I guess.” You moved to the side, Bakugo being floated into the room first with Hawks following behind, and his two gauntlets floating in afterwards.

Hawks looked around the familiar space, “You redecorated,” he stated calmly, before noticing your neck, “And that looks painful,” he pointed to the ridiculous hickey your boyfriend left on you the night before. He went over to the couch and placed Bakugo down, his feathers finally rejoining his wings.

He immediately rolled off, hitting the ground with a thud as he struggled.

Hawks quirked an eyebrow at him before looking back to you, “Dynamight huh? Little hero magnet aren’t ya?”

You shrugged, “Seems so— this one keeps my hands a bit more full though.”

”Just wait till he finds out about the other hero you dated.”

Bakugo struggled more, smacking his head against the coffee table.

”He’s fucking with you Kat!” You called out, walking over to him, now standing above your restrained boyfriend, “There was no other hero— do you have to rile him up even more?” You snapped at Keigo.

He only shrugged, “He tried killing me so I think that’s fair.”

You groaned, “I’m really sorry about that. I’m gonna talk to him tonight.”

He hummed, “Nothing I couldn’t handle. You look good by the way, it’s nice seeing you doing well after all this time.”

”Yeah, you too,” you grinned, “Hero work going well? I see you on the news almost every day.”

”Better than ever.” He smiled, “I’ll let you attend to him though, I think he needs the attention.”

You rolled your eyes, “Thanks.” You said leading him to the door, “And thank you for bringing him here, I’m sorry again for any trouble he caused.”

”S’alright,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets, “I do have one question though,” he turned, facing you in the doorway, “Did you really tell him I can’t fuck—?”

“Good night Keigo,” you slammed the door in his face.

You walked back over to your boyfriend, watching him roll back and forth between the couch and coffee table as he struggled with the capture weapon.

”Oh Kat,” you sighed, “What am I gonna do with you?”

You sat on the couch, leaning down and yanking the bandage from his mouth.

He said nothing.

You raised a brow, “Really? You had a fuck ton to say when he was here,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“You were flirting,” he grumbled.

”You tried to kill him? Really? You don’t realize how fucking psychotic that is?”

“… He called you sweetheart.”

”Okay,” you snapped, “This has got to stop Kat. Honestly it seems like you’re more into Keigo than me.”

”That’s absolute fucking bullshit, and you know it. I’m only obsessed with him because of you.”

”So you admit you’re obsessed?”

”What!? No!—I— shut up you fucking idiot!” He screamed, rolling on the floor again to try and break free.

”Okay, how are we gonna remedy this? What can I do to help you get over this? Therapy?”

He stopped, staring at the ceiling, ”… Lemme send him a picture of my dick in your pussy.”

”Absolutely out of the question.” You stated, utterly unamused.

”Sucking me off?”

“Nope.”

”Eating you out?”

”Try again.”

“Mirror pic of us in doggy?”

”Kat—… actually I can deal with that— but only if you agree to talk to a therapist. I love you Kat so I’m really gonna need you to drop this obsession with my ex or I’m gonna have a new one.”

”Fine!” He barked. “Doggy and a therapist.”

You nodded, “Doggy and a therapist— and did you pick up that plan B like you said you would?”

“…damn it.”

* * * *

[New Message… Unknown number]

[1 Attachment]

Keigo Takami: ‘Thanks. I almost forgot what she looked like in that position’

[New Message… (Y/N)]

(Y/N): Idk what you said but I’m begging you to stop riling him up. There’s only so much screaming I can take in one night

Keigo Takami: Good luck sweetheart, I’m sure you’re doing a lot more screaming than he is anyway ;)

(Y/N): Bastard

1K notes · View notes

violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year ago

Note

my love if i may request a whiskey with dbf!joel or dbf!bucky with the prompt “i’ve wanted this for so long” and mayhaps if it’s not too much to ask for but some breeding kink👀👉🏻👈🏻

Promises, Promises.

warnings - smut. cursing.

I figured I'd make this dbf!bucky, because i've done a dbf!joel fic for this celebration already. y'all, I read the words dad's best friend and go fucking feral. this one got away from me.

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

You're the last person Bucky expected to be at his front door at 3am.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"Locked myself out of my goddamn house, and my parents are still on vacation. Can I crash here tonight? Please?"

Who is he to turn down an offer that tempting?

"Course. Come on, it's too cold for you to be stood out here."

The two of you sit down on his couch, settling in to watch some TV.

"Bucky Barnes. Are you watching a romcom?"

He blushes, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks.

"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you. They're my guilty pleasure."

"It makes me like you more, if anything," you grin. He can't help but smile back at you, less embarrassed now.

"Look, my love life is fuckin' terrible. I live vicariously through these cheesy films right now."

"You? Terrible love life? Those two phrases don't usually go in the same sentence."

You're teasing him. Seeing if you can get a rise, hit the right button.

"Oh, shut it. Just because you're on a new date every week."

"I'm... what?"

"Your Dad seems to think you're dating a lot."

You quirk a brow at him, amusement curling at the corners of your lips.

"Is that so?"

"I'm only telling you what I've heard, honey."

He crosses his arms across his chest, biceps threatening to break free from the confines of his t shirt.

"He's wrong."

"Is that so?"

You roll your eyes.

"I have a friend, he's a guy. My Dad automatically assumes we're dating because we hang out. But we're not."

"And why not?"

"I don't know, I guess he's just..." you debate your answer, realising it's now or never. "He's not old enough for me. Not mature enough."

Bucky bites his lip, eyes scanning your face.

"He's your age."

"Exactly. Boys my age don't know shit."

He laughs, but it's dark and low, something brewing beneath the surface.

"You always were too smart for your own good, huh?"

Bucky's thigh is pressing into yours, the warmth from his skin seeping through. His rough fingertips glide across your arm, slow and soft. He's testing the waters.

"I shouldn't want this," he murmurs, barely audible. "Neither should you."

"But I do," you whisper. "So fucking bad."

"Me too."

Bucky grabs the back of your neck, smashing his lips to yours. You grip at his hair, his biceps, his shirt - anything you can get a hold of. You feel like you're dreaming, your filthiest thoughts coming into fruition.

He pulls you into his lap so you're straddling his hips, grinding down and panting into his mouth. You're both breathless, but neither of you want to be the first to pull away.

Bucky rips your shirt over your head, instantly attacking your chest with kisses. He's marking you up, claiming you as his. You should be worried about the repercussions, but you're not.

You pull his shirt off and rake your nails down his front, grinning when he shivers. Suddenly, Bucky stands up, setting you on your feet.

"Strip."

You blink at him, processing.

"Strip, baby. I won't tell you again."

You shimmy your pants down your legs, your underwear going too. Your mouth waters as you watch him undress, admiring the angles and smooth ridges of him. A Greek God.

Bucky stalks over to you and hooks a foot behind your ankle, sending you both flying onto the rug on the floor. He cushions your fall, not letting go of you once. Running two fingers through your wet heat, he groans.

"All for me, pretty girl? What did I do to deserve somethin' this sweet, huh?"

"Need you," you whine. "Please, Buck."

"I've wanted this for so long," he murmurs, lining himself up. "Fuck, you're a dream."

You both gasp as he slides home, your back arching and his jaw falling slack. Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, the weight grounding you back down to Earth.

"Need you to move," you choke out. "Fuck, I need it, Buck. Please."

"Oh you need it, do you?" he smirks. "My needy girl."

He snaps his hips into yours in long, careful glides, very aware of the effect he has on you. Before long, his restraint snaps, and his thrusts get harder, quicker, more frantic.

"Gonna fill you up, baby," he's muttering under his breath. "Make you mine. You want that? To have everyone know who you belong to?"

You're nodding rapidly, tears gathering in your eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

"How are we gonna keep this a secret if you're pregnant, huh?"

The thought makes you moan, a breathy, gutteral sound.

"You like that? Want me to make you a mommy? Fuck, I'll give you everything you ask for. I'll buy you a house and knock you up, you'll never want for anything."

His low, honeyed words throw you over the edge, squeezing and clenching around him. Bucky groans, deep and rumbled, the sound vibrating through the both of you. You find your releases together, panting and out of breath.

"House first."

"Huh?" he breathes, raising his head from your chest.

"Buy me a house first. Kids second. Maybe marriage in between."

He laughs, floating and content. You both know he meant what he said, not just a heat of the moment confession.

You stay wrapped up in each other for hours, on the rug in front of the fire.

You'll deal with the repercussions later.

6K notes · View notes

bettysupremacy · 1 year ago

Note

Thank you for letting me know:) Could you (if you get the chance) please write Grumpy Rafe x a like really sweet, shy, adorable like innocent reader? But like he finds her really cute? Could be anything else you want! I just like grumpy x sunshine :)

hey babe! Sorry this took me so long to get to, I hope u like! This is my fav rafe trope

“This is such bullshit.” Rafe grumbles.

Of course his plans had been derailed. Big empty house, summertime, pretty girl to himself, of course his friends dragged him away.

Your head peeks from the bathroom wall. “Hm?” It struggles out, your lips coated in toothpaste, your mouth occupied with a dangling toothbrush. You look so cute in your little outfit, he feels guilty for wanting you to get back into your pajamas. To forget your friends ever texted you at 9:30pm on a Saturday with Drinks? ;)

His hand waves in the air dismissively. “Nothing.”

You nod, slipping back into the bathroom to finish your tasks.

He rifles through his drawers messily, unsure of what he’s actually looking for. “Goddamn Kelce.” He mutters, quieter than last time. “Goddamn Topper.”

He can’t believe his perfect plans have been ruined, can’t believe he’ll have to share you. His head shakes in disbelief as he quits with the drawer, moving to wait for you by his bed. He cannot go out tonight.

You pop out of the bathroom, toothpaste replaced by a softer, pinker, shine to your lips. Rafe represses the urge to thumb at it as you walk over to wrap your arms around him tightly. Ear pressed to the warmth of his shirt covered chest, you can hear the aggravated thump to his heart.

“M’sorry.” You mumble.

He pulls back until your face is in view. His fingers work to smooth a piece of your hair. “For what?”

You lean into the touch. “I know you didn’t want to go out tonight.”

Oh. He can’t hide the distain crumpling his features. “No,” he grumbles. “I don’t.”

You smile weakly. “But we‘ll have fun.”

“You will.”

“Not if you’re miserable.”

He sighs, greatly heavy, shaking his head. “I won’t be miserable.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” His eyes roll. “as long as you sit on my lap.”

He nearly preens at the sound of your laugh. “I don’t think the bar stools are big enough for lap siting, baby.”

He deflates dramatically, his head falling to your shoulder. “Than what is the point.”

You smile, though he doesn’t see, his eyes hidden in the softness of your dresses sleeve. “Getting some drinks with friends who wanna catch up.” Your hand comes up to scratch his scalp the way he likes. He does preen this time.

He’s silent, breathing in the scent of the moisturizer he’d bought you last week. He grumbles incoherently.

“Me too.” You nod. You feel him grin against your shoulder.

Lifting his head, he ducks down, eye level with you. “Let’s just stay home, baby.” He whispers, nosing at yours.

Your eyes flutter, the hopes of a kiss working it’s way in. “You know we can’t do that.”

He sighs softly into you. “Why not?”

“Because,” You start with a pout, your hands sliding from where they rest on his waist, up onto his warm grumpy cheeks. “You haven’t seen Top in a month,” his nose twitches. “and he misses you.”

“Please don’t bring up Topper when I want to kiss you.”

You laugh, warm and syrupy, flushing at the insinuation of kissing. “I get a kiss?”

“You always get a kiss.” He breezes, leaning down to press his lips to yours.

It’s soft and sticky, a string of your pinky lipgloss connecting you two obscenely when you’re the one to pull back.

“R’you wearing the sticky stuff?” He murmurs.

“Yes,” you nod quietly. “It lasts longer.”

“So I’m gonna have pink shit all over my lips for the next thirty minutes?”

“No,” You giggle quietly. “a wet cloth will do the trick.”

“In that case.” He shrugs, leaning down to reward your lips with three rapid kisses before a fourth, longer, softer kiss.

You stifle a smile when he pulls back. “What?” He grins.

“Your lips are all sticky.” Your thumb wipes some shine from the corner of mouth. He puckers his lips.

“Maybe it’ll make me as pretty as you.”

Your nose wrinkles at his corniness.

“Or maybe I need more.” He leans in.

You push his face away from yours. “I can’t kiss you when you’re like this.”

“Lovely?” He murmurs. “The nicest boyfriend ever?”

“Corny.” You laugh at his offended expression, shrieking when he tackles you to the bed. “You maniac!”

He pulls your hair from your eyes, the gesture softer than your loud shriek moments before. It’s quiet as you breathe in tandem. His eyes rake over you appreciatively, and something in your belly twists for another kiss.

“I think” he starts,dropping his face down to nose at your collarbone. “I wanna kiss you again.”

Your eyes droop, the warmth of his body and love seeping into you. “I think” you start like him, murmuring into his ear. His ear tickles from the warm air. “I wanna stay home.”

“I did it!” He pops up, his arms caging you in.

Your chest rises in rapid giggles. “Shut up!”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe imagine #rafe x y/n #rafe fluff #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x reader fluff

5K notes · View notes

littleprinces · 3 days ago

Text

Day 25: Friend With Benefit

Tzuyu x Male Reader

Kinkvember Day 25

I knocked on tzuyu's house, and she answered, dressed casually in a tank top and short shorts. "Hey, what brings you here?" she asked, a playful smile on her lips.

"You know why I'm here," I said, my voice low and husky. "I need you, Tzuyu. I need your body."

She laughed, batting her long lashes. "Is that so early?" Well, come in, then. Let's see what you've got."

Inside, we sat on her couch, our knees touching. I reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're beautiful, you know that?"

She blushed, leaning into my touch. "You're not so bad yourself."

I grinned, my hand moving to cup her cheek. "I want to fuck you, Tzuyu. I want to make you scream my name."

She shivered, her breath hitching. "And what makes you think I want that?"

I leaned in, our lips almost touching. "Because I know you do. I know you want my cock inside you, filling you up."

She bit her lip, her eyes darkening with desire. "Maybe I do." She smirk on me and smile playfully.

I stood up, holding out my hand. "Come on, then. Let's go to your room."

She took my hand, and I led her to her bedroom. I turned to face her, my eyes roaming over her body. "Take off your clothes," I commanded.

She hesitated for a moment before complying, slowly removing her tank top and shorts. She stood before me in nothing but a black lace bra and thong.

I groaned, my cock twitching in my pants. "Fuck, Tzuyu. You're so goddamn sexy."

I reached out, unhooking her bra and letting it fall to the floor. I cupped her breasts, my thumbs rubbing over her nipples until they were hard peaks. She moaned, her head falling back.

I leaned down, taking one nipple into my mouth, sucking and nipping at it until she was panting. Then I moved to the other, giving it the same treatment.

"Get on the bed," I ordered, my voice harsh with desire. She complied, lying back on the bed, her eyes locked on mine.

I quickly removed my clothes, my cock springing free, hard and ready. I climbed onto the bed, positioning myself between her legs. I started at her neck, kissing and licking my way down her body, lingering on her breasts before moving lower.

I hooked my fingers into her thong, pulling it off and throwing it aside. I spread her legs wide, my eyes feasting on her glistening pussy. I leaned in, my tongue flicking out to taste her. She was sweet and tangy, and I groaned, wanting more.

I licked and sucked at her clit, my fingers sliding into her pussy, fucking her slowly. She was wet and ready, her hips bucking against my hand. "That's it, Tzuyu," I murmured. "Take my fingers. Imagine it's my cock."

She moaned, her hands fisting the sheets. "Fuck me, please," she begged. "I need your cock."

I chuckled, my fingers working faster. "Not yet. I want to taste you first."

I continued to lick and suck at her clit, my fingers fucking her harder. She was close, her breath coming in short gasps. "That's it, Tzuyu. Come for me."

With a cry, she came, her body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over her. I licked her clean, then climbed up her body, my cock poised at her entrance.

"You ready for this?" I asked, my voice gruff.

She nodded, her eyes locked on mine. "Yes, please. I need you inside me." Her face redden and she look so shy.

I slammed into her, my cock filling her completely. She cried out, her nails digging into my back. "Fuck, yes," she moaned. "Harder, please."

I obliged, my hips slamming into hers, my cock fucking her hard and fast. She met my thrusts, our bodies slapping together, the sound of our fucking filling the room.

"Does that feel good, Tzuyu?" I growled. "Does my cock feel good inside you?"

"Yes," she gasped. "Yes, it feels so good."

I switched angles, hitting her G-spot with every thrust. She screamed, her body tensing as another orgasm ripped through her.

I pulled out, flipping her over onto her hands and knees. "On all fours," I ordered. "I want to fuck you from behind."

She complied, her ass in the air, her pussy glistening with her juices. I positioned myself behind her, my cock poised at her entrance. I slammed into her again, my hands gripping her hips.

"Fuck, Tzuyu," I groaned. "Your pussy feels so good. You're so tight and wet."

She moaned, pushing back against me, meeting my thrusts. I reached around, my fingers finding her clit. I rubbed it in time with my thrusts, her moans growing louder.

"Come for me, Tzuyu," I ordered. "Come on my cock."

With a scream, she did, her body convulsing as she came again. I couldn't hold back any longer. I gripped her hips tighter, slamming into her one last time before I came, my cock pulsing as I filled her with my cum.

I pulled out, collapsing onto the bed beside her. We lay there, panting, our bodies slick with sweat. I rolled onto my side, pulling her into my arms.

"Fuck, Tzuyu," I murmured. "That was incredible."

She smiled, snuggling against me. "It was," she agreed. "We should do that more often."

#girl group smut #female idol smut #kpop x reader #kpop smut #twice smut #tzuyu smut

526 notes · View notes

wishful-sinful-9 · 27 days ago

Text

YOU WANT IT DARKER

Logan Howlett x Reader

MASTERLIST

cw: stalkerish!logan, kidnapping, kinda dubcon, smut, piv, oral (f receiving), biting, hair pulling, body worship, overstimulation, just feral sex, both parties are a little unhinged, reader has no sense of survival instinct bless her

halloween special (better late than never) 🐺

Was this karma? Had you been some sort of puppy-kicking throat-slashing cold-hearted bitch in a past life? Are you being bit in the ass for it? Or had the universe just singled you out at some point to be an object of constant torment?

You'd thought a small town in the mountains was just what you needed: peace and quiet, beautiful landscapes, charming locals. The reality was freezing temperatures as early as September, and elderly neighbours that are just as frosty to the strange young newcomer. Two months in, you could no longer take the loneliness - life became a little brighter when you adopted your fiercely loyal, and almost terrifyingly giant, doberman you named (aptly, in your opinion) Baby.

And then you left the Goddamn back gate open.

Miles of forest stretch up the mountainside behind your house. You've been trudging through the dense woods for hours, voice hoarse from calling for your dear Baby. A whisper in the back of your mind tells you it's a lost cause; he must have gotten too far to find his way back, and God knows the predators lurking in these shadows willing to attack him. These shadows that are getting deeper with each passing minute.

A shiver runs through you, in spite of your thick scarf and fur-lined coat. You scan the surrounding trees as you realise that it's getting harder to see past them.

That's when you halt abruptly.

You have no idea where you are.

Right and wrong blurs into eachother sometimes for Logan. He's been alone for so long, and his instincts are so loud, he can't fight these strange animal tendencies that claw into him every so often.

And you, well you didn't help him at all.

Why the fuck would a pretty young woman like you be doing living round here? Walking around his forest every damn day, with that hound that you love so deeply, even though it could easily wrench its lead from your grip or bite your arm clean off with one snap of its wolfish jaws. Of course, he knows it would never do such a thing - it loves you like all dogs love their owners, unconditionally and obsessively and devotedly. It loves you like how he'd love you.

Picking a spot in the shadows and watching you pass by was one thing. Beginning to follow you on your route, all the way back to your home though - his conscience was beginning to blink its red warning lights.

Yet every time he indulges in his guilty pleasures, those lights fade a little more.

He doesn't notice they've gone completely black when he sees you presently, stood shivering in the depths of the forest. Lost.

Your dog blinks up at him, eyes bright and tongue lolling. Excited to introduce you to his new friend.

The darkness of the encroaching night, the cruel icy wind, and the severity of your situation is all forgotten when your blessed Baby appears like an angel from the shadows.

“Baby! Oh, my God, Baby,” you sob, kneeling as he runs to you with a furiously wagging tail. “Where have you been, boy? Where the hell have you been?”

You unwind the leash from where you'd knotted it and clipped it to your belt loop and reach for Baby's collar. He twists, not with any fear or violence, out of your grip in an instant. You frown. He hasn't done that before.

He trots over to where he had appeared from, glancing back and stopping, encouraging you to follow.

You step forward, “What are you..”

He returns to shepherd you to his desired direction. You do so, praying that once he's successfully shown you whatever impressive stick or pinecone it is that you can finally go home.

You trudge after your dog for a few more minutes before deciding you've had enough. “C'mon, pup, let's go home. Aren't you hungry? Eh, boy? Want some- shit!”

Baby sprints off suddenly, lightning-fast.

Your feet move before you can think. You're far too exhausted for this chase, but you are not going to lose him again. You shout after him as you sprint through the darkness.

You break through the trees and find yourself skidding to a stop - in front of you, there is a black iron gate.

Beyond it, a gravel drive leads to a shadowed, decrepit manor house, lit only by the full moon above. You don't have time to wonder why there was ever a house built this deep into the wilderness, because Baby's running straight to the open door.

He pets the dog idly, knowing you'll soon follow. It licks his palm.

The scent of roses, your perfume, strengthens as he hears the stumbling of your hiking boots at the entrance. The dog barks, and you follow the sound.

You burst into the living room, eyes wild when they meet his own.

Got you.

His dark eyes are unsettlingly wide as he stares you down.

The man whose home you've just broken into is unlike any around here; considerably younger than the elderly folk in town, perhaps in his thirties. Beyond that, there's something abnormal about him: he towers over you, huge in stature and wide with muscle. And one of his terrifyingly huge hands is petting your dog.

“I am so, so sorry sir,” you stammer stupidly, taking a wobbly step back. “He just - ran off - he never does it I swear, I'll get out of your- Baby, Baby, c'mere.”

He doesn't move.

You tremble as you contemplate grabbing him by the collar. But you can't seem to bring yourself to move towards this man.

“Baby, please-”

The man says your name.

Your blood runs cold. You bring your gaze to his, slow with terror. Another step back.

You could cry when Baby finally moves away from him, only to be further horrified when you beloved protector only does so to get behind your legs and usher you towards the man. The strange man who somehow knows your name.

You lurch forward at a hard nudge of Baby's head against your calf - into his arms. Strong, large arms that wrap around you tightly. Shit. Oh shit.

You shriek, attempting to wriggle free, but the man holds you to him tighter. He removes one arm, keeping you there solidly still with the other, and curls his fingers into a fist.

And three knife-sharp metal claws unsheath from his knuckles.

Your fighting ceases immediately. He doesn't hold them to you in threat, merely displays them in warning: Don't. Even. Try.

They disappear back into his hand and he brings his lips to your ear.

“You ain't going nowhere, sweetheart.”

It would've been a nice room, once. A canopy bed in the centre, a velvet loveseat at the foot of it, and a large window stretching across the far wall. Only now, the canopy's sheer curtains are torn, the colour of the seat's fabric faded, and the window completely boarded up.

The only source of light is a lone candle on the dresser. You pace in its dim light, shaking like a leaf, gasping short, panicked breaths.

He'd picked you up as if you'd weighed nothing at all and deposited you in this room, locking it and ignoring how you banged and screamed and shouted at the door. It didn't take long before you'd exhausted yourself and resorted to desperately racking your brain for means of escape.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

You sink to the floor with your head in your hands. Hiccupy sobs escape your lips, eyes sore from crying.

A gentle click of the door opening alerts you of his presence.

“I'm not gonna hurt you.”

As he lingers in the doorframe, even bigger from where you're crumpled on the floor, you find it hard to believe. Your breathing speeds up again.

In a stride, he's kneeling beside you. You jerk away with a cry as he tries to reach for your wrist.

His hand curls around your chin and brings your tear-stained, crazed face to his. The wildness in his eyes before was gone - there's a shocking earnestness in them now, as if he hadn't just used your only companion against you in luring you into his home.

“Deep breath in,” he murmurs.

What?

“Deep breath in, I said. Do it, girl.”

For some bizarre reason, you do it - drawing in a deep, shaky breath and holding it.

“Now out.”

You exhale.

“Again - in,” you do, “out.”

You can't shake the feeling that you're in some absurd dream as you repeat the process with your abducter until your breathing returns to normal.

He retracts his hand from your face and with a weak voice you whimper, “Who are you?”

“Logan.” He grunts.

“What do you want?”

He gazes at you for a long moment. When he responds, you detect a tremble in that baritone voice: “I've been alone for so. Damn. Long. Then you came along, into my woods, into my head, and now I'm losing it.”

His words send chills racing down your spine. Had he been watching you?

“It's like this instinct. This animalistic urge, that makes me want to keep you here - where I can keep you safe, keep you with me-”

“You're a mutant,” you rasp. He nods. “My parents always told me to stay away from... your people.”

“They aren't my people. I'm alone.” You flinch at the sharp edge to his tone.

He raises himself from the floor, looming over you again. You cower under his shadow.

“Well,” he grunts, “not anymore, I suppose.”

He locks the door behind him.

You don't know how many days have passed since Logan first took you.

It was only the day after that fateful night that he unlocked your room, under strict order to not leave the house. His only other kindness was to get some clothes for you from your house. You hadn't given him the keys.

Baby is your only comfort, as he curls up beside you at night for warmth. Even still, he seems to have developed some sort of bond with your captor, and is unwilling to be the guard dog you'd have assumed he would be in a situation such as this.

You've taken to slinking about in the shadows, rarely directly coming in contact with Logan; instead, you observe him.

His mutant abilities are not limited to the claws; from what you've gathered, he has some sort of heightened sense of smell and hearing. You know it would be foolish to try and escape because he'd sniff the nerves on you in an instant.

He feeds you mostly meat, which you pick at with little appetite.

It's those minor interactions, when he hands you your meal, that you ponder over throughout the long, cold days and nights. Had he lingered for longer to watch you eat? Did his fingers graze yours when he passed you the plate?

It soon came apparent to you, that this ominous, claw-bearing creature was no more than a man in isolation.

In a largely anti-mutant society, it's push everyone away, or be shunned and hurt. In this world, he's abnormal. Dangerous. A monster.

And you want to crawl into his skin and find what he is really: man or beast?

His ears prick at the shuffle of your feet. No matter how often he hears you move about, you never fail to excite his paranoia.

But you never do run, or lash out, or panic. You just remain in the darkness, watching.

In truth, he regrets doing this to you. It was the primal part of his brain eating the rational, and now you were constantly in his proximity, the animal had calmed itself and the human had settled in. Still, he could not bring himself to set you free. Not until he'd figured out how to get himself back to how he'd used to be.

Click.

He froze.

The door. You were at the door.

He set his beer bottle down hard on the table, a warning. He was there. He'd know if you were escaping.

The smell of fresh night air leaks into his nostrils, and he stalks over to the foyer.

You're halfway out the door - staring at him.

For a heartbeat, you keep his furrowed gaze, heart rabbiting in your chest. Then you bolt.

You barely make it to the gate before rough hands slam you backwards into his chest.

You don't struggle. You just pant in his hold.

A long, terrible moment of silence passes that makes you doubt your confidence in emerging from this situation unharmed. When he finally speaks, his lips brush the shell of your ear.

“What. Was. That.”

You squeak, “I wanted to see if you'd go after me.”

You're flung over his shoulder and marched straight back to the house.

He dumps you on the tattered armchair by the fireplace, and leans over you - gripping each arm of the chair to cage you in. His eyes are as dark as you've ever seen them.

“You have your answer,” he growls.

“Logan I-”

“Now I want to find out mine.”

You press yourself back into the chair. “Answer to what?”

“Why did that turn you on?”

Your mouth runs dry and your cheeks are ablaze. You shake your head furiously, refusing to meet his eye. “I don't know what.. Uhm..”

One hand is no longer on the chair, instead it's on your cheek. Forcing you to look at him.

Wordlessly, he drops his hand... and shoves it down your pants instead. It's then that it hits you: that heightened sense of smell of his can detect arousal too.

A thick finger runs through your folds, gathering the slick sticking to your panties.

“Logan-”

“You are turned on.”

He sounds almost a little incredulous, as he pulls out his hand and studies how your arousal shines in the milky moonlight, coating his fingertips.

You make a little noise of embarrassment, and it turns his attention back to you. Wide-eyed, flushed, lips slightly parted. And a switch flips.

He grasps the back of your head to meet him halfway as he crushes his lips against yours. Bruising, but for some reason, addicting.

You moan slightly, opening your mouth to encourage his tongue and it makes his mind blur.

He tears away after a minute, and, operating as if possessed, rips your pants open.

You gasp, but have no time to reconsider: your panties are torn clean off too, and a finger is curling deep inside you.

Your wails prompt him to try another, his thumb circling your clit, the pads of his fingers pressing against the spot that makes your eyes roll. You can barely gasp his name, so overwhelmed and lost in pleasure.

It's not enough. He needs to taste you.

You almost scream when his mouth replaces his thumb, sucking desperately on your clit. He laps at you with such animalistic intent, the haze in your mind lets through one paralysing thought: how does he fuck?

The pressure builds in a way you've never experienced before - so quick and heavy, like a tidal wave, and when you cum he almost ruins his pants along with you. The sheen of sweat over your face, your heaving chest, that sweet white release trickling down his palm. More.

Your hand flies into his hair as his fingers begin to move again and his mouth is somehow faster and needier than before.

“L-Logan I can't-”

He groans gutterally as he pulls away for a second to spread your juices over your throbbing flesh, already swollen. When he dives in again, you just grip his hair for dear life.

The next orgasm has your thighs clamping tightly around his head, but he simply prys them apart again. You tug at his hair and he finally breaks away to kiss you hard.

You taste yourself on his tongue.

He doesn't let up until you're both in desperate need of air, and you take the opportunity to strip off your top and bra. His hands, shaking you realise, come up to cup your tits gently, his eyes greedily savouring the sight.

“Beautiful..perfect..let me fuck you.” He gazes in your eyes with such desperation, you lean forward to cup his face and kiss his nose.

“Anything, anything for you, Logan.”

You don't give a damn about that rug burning against your back. Not when he's so deep inside you, you swear you can feel him in your throat.

“Sweet girl,” he sucks into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “Take me so well, does it hurt?”

“Mm-mm,” you hum, eyes welling with tears of overstimulation. “Just move. Fuck me, Logan-”

He lifts your knees, pressing the backs of your thighs to your chest, and slams into you over and over at an unrelenting pace. Your mouth hangs agape, crying for the pleasure. It's as if the beast in him has bled into your skin, making you want him closer, deeper, faster. You claw at his shoulders. He leans down to nip and nuzzle at your jaw and neck, but your lips only move to moan.

“I can feel you - so tight - cum for me, sweetheart,” he grunts out, “cum all over my cock.”

You do as he wishes with a scream of his name.

He watches the sticky mess where his dick meets your cunt grow with your latest release, and he wants even more.

You're too dumb to register how he hasn't cum yet, but is pulling out of you. You let him manhandle you with ease until you're on your front, cheek against the floor while Logan grips your hips to keep your ass up.

Like this, he can better watch it all drip out of you.

You let out a little whine, eyes fluttering shut as you're sure he just wants a final look. You jolt as you suddenly feel his tongue thrust into your hole and curl. “No more-”

You shiver at the obnoxious wet sounds of him licking up the mess between your thighs, pushing back against his face despite yourself. You breathe out a sigh of relief when he pulls away - then you feel the head of his cock notch against your entrance.

With the last of your deteriorating strength, you try your best to crawl away from his sloppy thrusts.

“I'm not done,” he growls, pulling you back onto his cock and pounding you harder. You give in, eyes rolling, back arching, front pressed to the floor once more.

“Give it to me.”

You can't.

“C'mon.”

He reaches round to rub your clit in mean circles.

“Let go.”

You cry, and clench so hard around him it feels as if your pussy is pulling him in.

You gush around him, and his hips stutter as he approaches his own release. You press back as you feel him try to slip out - “Inside me, Lo, fill m' up..”

With a shout, he cums deep inside you, only pulling out once completely milked dry. He groans at the sight of your twitching thighs, and the creamy mess leaking from your cunt. He pushes it back in before standing.

You're a sticky, panting, fucked-out thing when he gathers you in his arms, pressing his lips to your hairline.

“Can I keep you?” he grins down at you, the first time you've seen him smile. You beam and kiss his cheek.

“Keep me forever.”

a/n: this has not been well edited but I hope you enjoyed nonetheless! I've had a bit of writers block but the first part of the knight!au and the bbf!peter oneshot is on its way, slowly lmao

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett imagine #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut #smut

440 notes · View notes

solannn · 1 month ago

Text

─── ꒰𝓗𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝓐𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓꒱

─── 🌸 𝓦𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; ROUGH SEX (?), BREEDING KINK, INTOXICATED SEX ( SMOKE PLAY ), BURN MARK, AMAB!READER, BOTH ARE DICKS, F-SLUR, SLUT SHAMING, DIRTY TALK, LOVE BITES, P IN ASS, POOLRY WRITTEN, UNPROTECTED SEX

─── 🌸 𝓢𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ; IN 𝓦HICH A HEATED ARGUMENT LEADS TO A ROUGH SEX

for my moots @vrtualirl

During a soccer match, You didn't follow Kaiser's plan to pass the ball to him for the final goal, but instead passed the ball to another teammate, Isagi, his rival he despises the most. Kaiser was furious with you. "[Name]!" he shouted your name across the field, you were talking to his rival about the goal, which it enraged him even more, you turned to him and saw him stomping towards you, his eyebrows furrowed, his face irritated. "I think I fucked up lol, he'll probably yell at me like a bitch, I swear to god." You sighed and told your soccer teammate to leave so you wouldn't have to witness their fight. "You fucking, fucked everything up." Kaiser reached up to your face and grabbed your jersey and lifted you up slightly, he forcing you to look him in the eye. "Did you even listen to my idea, were you even listening to me ? What were you thinking playing with this fucking rats ?" Kaiser's face turned dark at the thought of seeing you playing with Isagi.

"I think I did my job by playing, lmao by playing the soccer game ? Did you fucking think you could give me orders? I’m not your bitch, and You're not my goddamn father, so calm the fuck down." You replied by rolling your eyes, thinking his anger at you was useless. "Shut the fuck up, Bëchker. You're the annoying person I've ever seen, acting like a shit and helping Isagi score when I told you to give me the ball to me." he used your lastname to find a way to shut you up, he let go of your shirt and grabbed his hair and pulled it.

You whimpered faintly at the pain. "Fuck off you cunt! Leave my fucking hair alone, you hoe! leave it alone, shit. You're getting upset just over a stupid match, it seems like you're the stupid one here acting like this and grabbing your hair, are you jealous that my haircut isn't messed up and doesn’t look like two rats fucking tails?!" You let go of his grip and frowned. "You're getting me mad as fuck over some fucking soccer game, I swear, why are you so stubborn?" You snapped at him as you gave him the finger and you walked away. "Fuck you." Kaiser whispered as he peered at you heading for the exit. You and he were the only people left in the field, but now he was alone. He clenched his fist, still angry at you.

In a long corridor you made your way to the shower on your left. You sighed at the interaction you'd just had, sometime the boy wanted to made you throw him out the window, he was a spoiled bitch in your opinion. He acted as if there were no consequences to his actions. As you stepped into the room and undressed yourself to wash yourself, you entered the shower and turned on the water, the water was hot enough as you wanted it.

The warm water touching your skin was so pleasant that all the negative thoughts you'd had about Kaiser began to slip away. But then you heard the door slam, someone had entered the shower room and you knew who it was. You ignored the person, deciding to concentrate on your shower, and after a several minutes you turned off the water and stepped out of the stall. The person who had entered the shower after him also came out at the same time, you were really irritated, all you wanted to do everything to avoid him, you tried to be positive and think it was a coincidence that pissed you off.

"Are you doing this on purpose or what, asshole, hope you fucking die you bitch." You couldn't stop yourself from insulting him, his attitude pissed you off immensely. "Shut the fuck up, bitch." Kaiser replied without even looking at you. You grunted and wiped yourself with your towel and put on a pair of underpants, and the tension between you two was awkward, but you knew it would be worse when you were in the dorm with him, since you shared the same room as him. You left the shower room first, leaving Kaiser none the wiser. The blonde frowned as he watched you leave. "Shitty whore, I’ll make you regret."

You made your way to your dormitory, already tired from the day. When you got to the door, it opened automatically and you entered without any trouble. You went to your closet and grabbed the shorts that Blue Lock had given you as pajamas, along with a sweater with the brand's logo on it. You quickly put them on and moved to your bed, which was only a few inches away. "I need a cigarette." You leaned over to your nightstand, pulled out one of the drawers, and took out your pack of cigarettes with the lighter. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, simultaneously opening the pack and placing one on your tongue.

You closed your mouth, the orange stalk at the end was quite unpleasant to feel on your tongue, the texture of the wrapping was also bitter. You brought your lighter to the cigarette and lit it, a small orange-yellow flame appeared. The cigarette was now lit, and you placed the lighter on the table after using it and extinguishing it. You inhaled the smoke, and after that you picked up the cigarette with your index and middle fingers, and removed the cigarette from your lips. You blew the smoke away. You did this several times, thinking deeply.

But someone interrupts your thoughts with a sentence. "Smoking in the bedroom? How many times do I have to tell you not to smoke in here, are you deaf, you stupid bastard?". Kaiser was in the bedroom getting dressed, but you hadn't noticed because you were deep in thought. "It's not my fucking problem that you can't stand smoking, you can just choke on it." Kaiser approached you as soon as you were dressed and leaned into your face. "Shut your mouth, you brainless faggot whore, I hope you die with your fucking cigarette," you backed away as soon as you heard him say that, but he started to get closer and closer.

"You think that insult will scare me or something faggot?" a silence answered him. Kaiser was standing over you, pinning you to your bed, and you decided to break the silence. Kaiser grabbed your cheeks and squeezed them to make you shut up he took your cigarette out of your mouth, the snout still lightened up. You noticed his blue ocean eyes were filled with hatred for what you'd done to him before, but also filled with lust. You tried to speak, but Kaiser leaned down and kissed you.

Your eyes widened, surprised by his action, he let go of your cheeks and closed his eyes. Your bodies pressed warmly against each other, breathing heavily. You closed your eyes as well and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your heart beat increased faster and faster with each passing second, Kaiser began to put his hands under your shirt, touching your flesh.

You moaned slightly as you felt his cold fingers touch your warm skin. The kisses became hot and the sexual tension between them increased, your knees grew weak from the pleasure you felt from the kiss. During the kiss you felt a burning on your neck, you whimpered at the pain you felt, you opened your eyes and saw Kaiser burning your neck with his cigarette, he pressed more and more on your neck with the cigarette and took advantage of your moaning to put his tongue into your mouth. You curled your toes as you felt Kaiser's wet muscles penetrate his mouth, tears welling up in your eyes.

In the middle of your kiss, Kaiser stopped. The blond crushed your cigarette against your skin for the last time and threw it on the bedroom floor. You whined that he'd stopped in the middle of making out, Kaiser rolled his eyes at your complaints. "Quit whining, whore." He stated and moved to your neck and kissed it, sucking on your sensitive skin and using his teeth to leave a red mark shaped like round on your skin.

You put your hand over your mouth and stifled the moan that escaped your throat, which displeased the Emperor. With his left hand, he pulled your hand away and gripped it tightly. "Don't hide your howl, I want to hear it, and that's an order," he let go of your arm as you obey by not putting your hands on your lips, the male begun licked the burn he'd made a few minutes ago. "Ngh... it hurtsss, but ts so good" a faint blush appeared on your cheeks, listening to Kaiser's deep and demanding voice, you felt yourself getting hard in your crotch, which Kaiser quickly noticed your erection.

Kaiser removed your shorts along with your underwear, exposing your erect cock. Your cock was leaking pre-cum from the tip, with his hand he gripped your cock, as you felt his hand taking your penis, it twitched at his grip and with with his thumb Kaiser pressed on your foreskin, and you let out a whimper as you arched your back in pleasure. You bent your legs and squeezed together when Kaiser put too much pressure on the tip.

The blonde easily separate your legs because of how weak they were. As he stroked your dick dryly without using any spit or lube as the mouvements increased ad the second passed, as he left a few fresh and painful bites marks on your thighs as he rubbed your dick at the same times . "You're going way too fast," you whined, feeling your legs curling and shaking as your finger nails was digging into his neck’s flesh at the hard pleasure you felt. With his other hand, he reached under your shirt and moved his hand to your shirt, pinching and twisted your nipples with his fingers.

All of this overstimulated you enormously, you couldn't stop yourself from dropping a thick, white and sticky white liquid on Kaiser's hand and squirting your semen on the boy's pajamas. Kaiser glanced at you with cums on his palms and spoke “did I even allow to cum?” He demanded as he lift up his brows as he starred at you, under pressure you nodded no. “Then fucking don’t it if I didn’t say anything.” You sigh as your hair was scattered on the beds, sweat was on your forehead and the heat was increasing between the two of you, you were already tired knowing it wasn't over yet. Kaiser grunted, "Tired already, whore? We've only just started," he lifted your legs and put them over his shoulders. “Before you ask, we don’t need a safe word. You should handle everything I want to give you.” You frowned at him. “That’s the stupidest I’ve ever heard from you, we do fucking need a safe word.” You argued back but he couldn’t give a single shit about your words, he was the one ordering here.

He pulled down his pants and his underwear slightly, the gap was big enough to let his cock free from his clothes. His cock had boner, and seemed massively rigid in your eyes. It was abnormally long and large, did he got bigger you wondered in your head. “Spread your leg wider.” He ordered, which you did until you realized. “Hey! No prep or anything at all like my ass is dry?” You inquired about if he was going to prepare you, he looked he was going straightforward to your butthole without any spit or lubrifiant. “I don’t think you fucking need prep by the way you were acting, i don’t care if you’re not prepared you’ll handle it and love it anyway you bitch.” He grabbed his cock and pushed his tips toward your entrance, then he slowly put it in puckered hole. When he fully entered, he made a low rough noise at how tight was your hole, he bent closer to your face with your legs still on his shoulders, he was slightly impressed at how flexible you were.

“Fuckkk, you’re fuckin’ tight as hell..”Kaiser moaned at the savoring the exquisite sensation of your dry walls clenching around him. you tried you best to adjust to its size, but the male started to began to move, rolling his hips against yours, you felt like he was ripping your hole with his cock inside of you. The rapidity of his thrust slowly boosted ; all the things you could do is whine at how bad it was hurting although you were also pleased by his thrust. As the adult gripped with his hands your hips, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, as he tried to find your prostate located in your butthole.

Once he find it, he took time to abuse it as he please, you made one of the lewd sounds you could ever made as you cried out to go slower as tears flowed down your face at the ecstasy he made you feeling. Your back arched as your nail clawed at Kaiser’s neck leaving red scratches on it. You felt you eye-lids grew heavier, you couldn’t think at what you were doing but the only thing you knew is that you came on your sweatshirt and it also squirted on your face as you fell into unconsciousness in your bed. Kaiser remarks that you were not awake anymore, he did few more thrust before letting his semen escape his urethral opening, his cum filled your walls as he took off his cock out of it. Seeing you with his sperm dripping from your was kinda of you, sometimes he wished you were a girl just breed you til you were pregnant.

He sighed and captured your hands to take it off his neck, his rubbed his neck as he touched one of the scratches you made and glanced at it, a crimson liquid was on his fingertip, blood. Now he has to disinfect his neck, and he has also have to take care of your case too.

#male reader #x male reader #anime x male reader #bottom male reader #uke male reader #bllk x male reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x male reader #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader #top character #sub male reader #dom male character #amab #amab reader #bllk smut #bllk x reader #bllk x you

462 notes · View notes