#please I want a baby so bad please please please
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madamechrissy · 2 days ago
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Would you come with me?
Pairings: Satoru Gojo x F! reader
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Summary: You have been Satoru's best friend for such a long time, and one day he asks you a really big favor- marry him. What!?!? Well, Satoru has to take a wife as he's running the Gojo corporation, and what better way to get them off his back than 'marry'? In name only, just best friends living together for a year to calm them down, sounds so perfect and uncomplicated, right!!! Well, living with Satoru Gojo makes you both question everything, is this fake marriage feeling... real? and can you just be friends after this?
CW: NSFT-MDNI- So much FLUFF and SMUT in this chap- they've been PENT UP so lol, warnings- oh boy- oral (f and m recieving) cum swallowing, breed kink, talking you through it, overstimulation, creampie, semi public sex, fingering, masturbation (both of you) multiple rounds, dirty talk, Toru obsessed, ya'll both down bad. Three parts- WC this Part- 6.7k
Songs for this - Hands to Myself // Love Me Harder // With You
This is the end omg! Thank you for all the love on parts one and two!! I hope you all enjoy this cute ending for them as well! Comments and reblogs appreciated!
<<<Part Two - Masterlist
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Part Three (Final Part)
“Oh sweetheart, this isn't where I wanted to take you first.” He murmurs, as he lifts you up so you’re bent over the counter, tip running along your glistening folds, making your head fall back in mind numbing pleasure. “Wanted it in m’bed, f-fuck you’re soaked, aren’t you?”
“Mnh!” Is all you manage, gasping when just the tip is in, stretching you so fucking good, you’re gushing out when he pulls it back, whining. “Satoru
”
“Aww, my sweet girl needs something?” Satoru laughs softly in your ear, breath tickling it as his fingers wrapping around that throat under your chin, pressing his tip back in, and he could damn near come from that, you feel so good around him. Gummy walls gripping and convulsing around his tip as he eyes your flushed cheeks, your glittering eyes.
“I swear
 to god if you don’t just
” You’re arching your ass back, pressing it against him as he has your panties shoved to the side, his tip slipping down to your clit now. “Satoru!”
“Use those words, hmm? What do you want?”
“You inside me, please.” Is all you say, softly now, and he moans, sinking inside you in one stroke, filling you so good you can’t take it, shuddering as his cock stuffs you fuller than you’ve ever been. “Ah!”
“Fuck
 oh my god, feel her.” His eyes shut for a moment at the sensation of you gripping his dick so well, at his tip kissing your cervix, his hand squeezing just so, tilting your chin to catch his blue eyes in the mirror. “Look at you, so fucking pretty.”
“Mnh
” You can’t manage anything else, not when his thumb presses between your lips and he begins to move, to pump inside you, you see black spots in your vision. You’re trying to catch a breath as you struggle to focus on the blurring reflection, when he fucks you so deep and slow, savoring every inch, and there are so many.
Satoru’s crying out in your ear, one hand holding your thigh then and lifting it higher, sinking even deeper into your pussy, which clenches and pulses all around him as you’re drooling. He’s slamming his cock up inside you, over and over now, a maddening rhythm as he buries his face in your neck, teeth sinking into your delicate skin, stuffing you more full, impossibly full.
“Toru
 oh my
 m’gonna
” You’ve never felt this, even with Satoru’s play, even with your own play, the sensation of his tip dragging on that spot in your slick walls is too much, you’re feeling the pressure build when he shoves in fully, bottoming out and turning your chin to face him.
“Cum f’me, lemme feel her, please baby.” He whispers, a mix of needy and dominant that shouldn’t make sense, but it does, as he slams his lips on yours, drinking your cries while you feel yourself come apart on him. “There it is, mmm, that’s it, let go f’me.”
You couldn’t stop it if you wanted to, the insane sensations overwhelming your every sense, everything fades when you whine into his mouth, when his tongue dips in your mouth, his cock slamming in with a lewd smack. You’re cumming so hard you can scarcely breathe, everything is him, it’s all Satoru Gojo, and you sure the fuck don’t see him as a friend right now.
His white hair is falling just so over his brow, as he yanks down your dress, revealing just enough of your pretty breasts to the mirror, moaning as he sees them bouncing with each thrust. He’s consumed by you, inside you, god he’s never felt anything, better, and he knows he’s not pulling out, fuck he never wants to even leave you.
“There you go, you’re doing s’good, taking my cock like you’re made for it, huh sweetheart?” Satoru whispers, you’re a mess when he pulls back, tilting your chin back to the mirror, as you see your face, he laughs softly. “Fucked out, so pretty. Drooling on my cock, and all over your chin huh?”
He swipes some of your drool off your face as you bite your trembling lip, tears falling at how intense every sharp thrust is of his thick cock in you. You gasp when he reaches around, rolling his finger on your clit, and you hear your squelching cunt sucking his cock so greedy, echoing off the bathroom.
“What
 are we
 oh my
 Toru, too much, too-” He covers your mouth with one hand, while the other works your tiny clit, making you build back up, as if you’re going to explode, fucking faint.
“I love you loud, but let’s be quiet till we’re home, Sweets.” He huffs, acting as if you’re not driving him insane, as if he’s got any composure, as your cunt is milking him for everything. “You on
 something?”
You nod quickly, as he’s pushing you more and more, the little circles mixed with long, slow thrusts insanity. “Pill.”
“Kinda
 ha
 wish you weren’t
” You attempt to scowl, but it’s just more drool as you’re hiccuping with pleasure, hands clinging to the counter, one leg dangling, the other propped up for his perfect angle.
“Wh-what?” Is all you whisper, and you catch it, the bright blue gaze, pupils pinpoints, his insane feral grin, like he’s lost it.
“Wish you weren’t
 on any
 want me to fill you up so good?” You’re dreaming, right!? This is some wicked day dream, yeah?
But you’re nodding, weakly, pathetic when you feel him pulsing. “Please, fill me
 Toru.”
“I’ll give you anything.” He huffs, and you know it then, as you’re trembling, as he watches you so hungry while he takes you.
He’ll fucking ruin you for anyone.
He already has by existing
 but this!?
“Can you take it sweetheart? All of it, like a good girl?” You nod once more, looking as the images in the mirror of you both are gone suddenly, replaced by white bursting stars as he sends you over the edge with him. “Oh my
 she’s milking me, huh?”
You have absolutely no clue what he means, you just know you’re cumming so hard then you both have a hand on your mouth to muffle your cries, when he’s busting his hot load into your pulsing hole. So deep you feel it against your cervix, feel him in your tummy, pumping you so full as your muscles are contracting, damn near pushing it back down his veiny length.
“Oh m-my
 baby, fuck
” He’s whimpering in your ear, hand clamped firm on your mouth as he empties is hot sticky load inside you, you’re trembling as the orgasm washes in waves, as you’re dizzy you’re so fucked out. “Best I’ve ever
 you’re so perfect
”
He’s murmuring all these sweet words in your ear as he finishes pushing, and finally releases you, you’re shaking when he eases you down, cock pulling out of you, making a sticky mess between your thighs. You struggle to focus, to stand, legs so weak from cumming, from feeling him so deep, when he’s spinning you and turning you to him.
Your eyes meet, as you both take breaths, before you hear it then, the door, and you quickly adjust yourselves, Gojo pretends to be helping you with your strap, smiling charmingly to the woman there. “Clothing mishap.”
“Such a sweet couple.” She says, going to the bathroom, making you two burst in quiet laughter, grinning so big your damn cheeks hurt, looking up at Satoru then, as it all starts hitting.
What are you two?
“Are you okay?” He murmurs softly, as he watches your brows draw together, your teeth pressing into your lower lip again, so hard you’re tearing the delicate skin there. “Was I too
”
“No, no
 we need to get out of here.” You take his hand in your little one, pulling him and entering the auction once more, feeling his cum sticking to your panties as it starts to trickle out, a sensation you’ve never had before.
“Are you sure? Did I hurt you?” Satoru whispers in front of the bathroom, quietly in your ear, you exhale now, looking up into blue eyes filled with a myriad of emotions, reflections of everything he’s always felt, and now more. 
“No, you didn’t.”
“Then
 Do you regret it?” At the pain in his voice you shake your head, tears filling up in your eyes.
“God no, Satoru.”
“Let’s get the fuck out of here, talk.” He says, voice husky, you nod in agreement as he’s pulling you away, only to be irritatingly stopped by more and more people, then once outside, more reporters.
“How do you deal with this shit, Toru?” He sighs, wrapping you in his jacket as he waits for the limo.
“It’s gotten worse now, it wasn’t this bad before. Well, you know
 you’ve been in stories with me.”
“Yeah, shit they used to call me your mistress.” You say with a snort, and he chuckles just a bit, both of your breath making puffs in the night.
“You’re my wife, though.” His words make you falter, as drips of rain start to fall, and you’re both there, you shivering in his big expensive Armani jacket, him just in some dress shirt worth more than your old car. You look how beautiful he is then, he’s always been so pretty it hurts, but how he’s looking at you!?
“Don’t say that, don’t look at me like that.” You whisper, lip trembling now, as more drops fall, and he’s cupping your face with his big hands.
“Look at you like what, sweetheart?” He murmurs softly, and you take a shaky breath then, your hands gripping his wrists, thumbs pressing over his pulse.
“Like you could love me.” Satoru laughs then, he laughs, making you scowl, shoving at him. “It’s funny!?”
“Shh, brat.” He kisses you, while more rain is falling, splashing all over your feet, and the car pulls up, the driver opening an umbrella and handing it to Satoru before sitting back in the car. Satoru takes it for a moment, opening it, as you’re both under the pattering protection. “Do you remember the day we met?”
“Yes.” You take a breath, looking up at the clear umbrella, showcasing every fat drop of precipitation, the sound merging with your heart beating in your ears. “I didn’t have an umbrella.”
“You didn’t, you were soaked, your hair all stringy.” You giggle a bit, shaking your head. “Your skin, it was glimmering
 it was a weird thought for an eighth grade boy to have, glimmering. I didn’t think it was a word I knew.” Your heart nearly pounds out of your chest as he strokes your cheek, dewy from the rain.
“Satoru, I
”
“Shh. And what happened that day?”
“You shared your umbrella.” Your lips curve up at the memory. “You were grinning so big, sunglasses in the rain, you had this giant umbrella too. With little fish all over it.”
“I still have it.”
“What!? No way.”
“Mmhmm, that was the day I met you, soaked and walking home, and what I should have said then, is that I fell for you, the moment I saw you.” You blink back tears, shaking your head, but he exhales and leans closer, cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over the apple of it, as everything in the world tilts on its axis.
“You fell for me?” You whisper, and now he’s swiping your tears, smiling so big at you, a grin on his face.
“That’s what’s funny, you didn’t even know. But something clicked into place, like you were always supposed to be here, with me.”
“I fell for you that day, when you protected me from the rain, when you gave me your jacket because I was soaked.” You’re sniffling, tears flowing just like the rain all around you, his lips part just so. “I fell harder every year, every moment, every day, but I was so scared-”
“To lose me.”
“Yes, to lose you. Friends don’t just leave each other’s lives, I thought it was how I could keep you forever.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” He tilts your chin up, looking at your pretty face in the night, finally ready to say it. “I can’t play it anymore, I can’t pretend, especially after being inside you. All I can think about now? Is making you mine, again, and again, and again
”
He kisses you, thinking he should have that day you met, but now there’s so much behind the kiss, as you breathe into him, as you both huddle together under your perfect little umbrella, images flash in both of your minds. Middle school Satoru and Middle school you, versus now. You were in jeans and converse, now you’re in a pretty red dress and glittery heels.
Satoru was in some dark blue jeans and a baby blue polo, you can’t forget it, nor his round glasses he wore then, now in this fancy three piece suit, but the two of you, your souls and hearts are the same. You remember your heart skipping a beat as he met you, and now his lips are taking you over. You’re clinging to him, arms around his neck, pulling back to finally say it, the words bursting forth.
“I am in love with you, Satoru Gojo. I have always been, from a crush to puppy love, to so much more, to where you consume me.” You whisper, the words like a healing balm on a soul that you didn’t realize was aching this badly.
“And I’m so in love with you it’s stupid, god I want this real, the marriage. I want it real, you in my arms, waking up in the morning, looking at this pretty face every day. Fuck every day forever if you will.” You’re sobbing as you nod, kissing him over and over again.
“Yes, I will. I’ve always wanted to.” He feels tears burning his eyes as his hand cups your pretty face, and your mouths move, more and more passionate with every tilt of your head, until you’re both breathless.
“I’ll never let you leave my goddamn bed.” He murmurs, making your cheeks heat up, your tummy clenching.
“God, we have been so stupid.” You murmur, he chuckles, blinking back his own tears.
“We were so stupid. Everyone always said so.”
You sigh, a hand brushing along the undercut, the soft damp hair pressing against your fingertips. “I love you.”
“And I love you, sweetheart. With every bit of my dumb brain and heart. I’m sorry I didn’t-”
“No, don’t.” You stop him then, shaking your head. “But you can make it up to me, I think. All these years of pining.” You tease, and his voice drops an octave, eyelids lowering.
“Yeah, how?” His cock twitches right back to life when you guide him to the limo now, raising a brow, giggling just a bit.
“We have a lot of time to make up for, hmm?” Satoru’s got you in his lap, as you’re both just a bit damp but uncaring, you’re straddling him and whining, grinding where you’re both so sticky.
Satoru’s kissing every inch of you on the short ride home that he can reach, as you grind on his clothed cock, pressing your twitchy little clit, and you’re both whispering your love, your needs, your wants. A mix of sweet and completely filthy, your tongues dripping with saliva as you take over each other's senses, barely noticing as the driver knocks on the door.
Oh, Satoru is absolutely making it up to you when you run into his home, and he has you spun and pressed against the door, easing your zipper down, pressing kisses along the back of your neck. When you’re bare to him, and you turn, he sees you fully naked for the first time, his eyes wide as they run down your soft pretty breasts, the curve of your waist and hip.
“Oh my
 you’re fucking beautiful, baby.” He murmurs, and you believe him, relaxing instantly, as he worships you with his gaze, and you’re shaky and unbuttoning his dress shirt, revealing his perfect, toned body, hands trailing down each defined line and muscle.
“You’re beautiful, Satoru.” He moans now, kissing you, but you’re sinking to your knees now, his brain short circuits for a minute, a blush dancing on his high cheeks.
“Shit I’m dreaming
” You giggle softly, shaking your head, swallowing when you see his length, still sticky from you, as he gets fully naked, his pink tip oozing precum, lapping your tongue up it, tasting his sweetness then. “Oh m-my
 baby
”
He’s falling apart when you wrap your lips around his tip, sucking him in your hot, wet mouth, his hands enwrapping in your still damp hair, pulling as he fucks into your mouth, making you throb at the memory of his cock inside you. Making you crave him even more as he loses control then, bracing one hand on the wall as the other pulls your head up and down his veiny length,
“Mmnh!” You’re whining as he hits deeper, pausing.
“Too much, sweets?” He murmurs. “Can you take it all f’me?”
“Probably not.” You say, pulling back with a pop of your lips, he moans at the sight of you, of the drool down your lips and chin. “You’re huge, Toru.”
Satoru knows he’s huge, but something about you saying it makes him lose it, shoving as deep as he can until you’re gagging, and he’s trembling, his cock twitching down your throat. “Know how long I’ve w-wanted this, how much I’ve stroked him to the thought? F-fuck
”
You’re soaked further, picturing it, but you have no clue the desperation and need he’s had for you, the way he’s stroked it right outside your room, whispering all the things he’d do when he had a chance. You’re even better than he could ever dream of, there’s nothing like you. Your pretty eyes looking up at him, fuck even your tears just make him harder as he pulls back then with a hiss.
“Shit, shit
 get up here.” He yanks you up by your hair then, pulling it at the nape, only serving to turn you on more when he presses his lips, tasting himself as he swirls his tongue inside your mouth, bending down then, gripping you by the waist and picking you up in his arms. “The bed this time, I swear to god we’ll make it.”
“Oh will we?” You tease softly, he moans, hands gripping your ass now, feeling it fill his hands, as he’s pressing against your bare cunt, and your thighs are squeezing around his hips, whining out.
“Yes, dammit. We can fuck on this door later.” You’re giggling, so breathless as he rushes you into the room, nearly tripping in his excitement, until he’s laid you on your back, brushing your hair back gently for a moment, grinning. “I can’t believe we get to do this!?”
“You’re excited huh?” You tease, and Satoru exhales, kissing down your throat, leaning up and gripping a breast, pressing sweet kisses down the slope of it.
“Prettiest titties I’ve ever fuckin’ seen.” He murmurs, as he squishes one in his hand, sighing. “I knew it, but shit.”
“Ah!” Satoru’s sucking a nipple in his mouth now, hot tongue swirling around your areola, as your hands find purchase in his silky white locks, he elicits lewd moans from you, finally able to be loud, earning his cock rutting on the bed. Dying to fill you in every way he can, he’s latched onto the other as you’re whining softly, hips arching up, letting him feel your heat.
“Perfect, god so perfect.” Satoru’s humming to himself as he licks a trail between the valley of your breasts, hot sticky trail that glimmers under the light, igniting something in him. Glimmering.
“Need you
 need more, please.” You whisper, and he grins up at you with those sharp teeth of his.
“So greedy already, huh sweetheart?” He’s cooing now, how he goes from whimpering to cocky you don’t have the brainpower to think.
“Ngh
 ah! Mnh!” He’s eliciting lewd moans as he’s gripping your hips, kissing on your tummy, laughing a bit, making it tickle.
“Imagine it so fucking full?” You blink a bit, but then he’s spitting on your clit, watching it drip down as he spreads you wide, sighing as he sees it, trickles of his cum still pouring out. “You kept some in your perfect pussy, aww. You’re such a good girl.”
“Huh? Are you talking to her or m-me-ah!” Satoru’s scooping the remnants of his own cum out, tasting the both of you together.
“Mmm, I was talking to both of my girls.” You can hear and feel Satoru’s vibrating groans as he laps hungrily at your entrance, as your thighs threaten to close on his head, but he shoves them apart.
“Hold 'em up, sweets. Now.” You do as he asks eagerly, and you are just feeling so exposed, but he’s groaning even louder at the pretty sight of you. “Good girl, lemme clean you up, get you ready hmm?”
“Y-yes
 Please
”
“Lemme take my time, f-fucking look at you.” He’s studying your glistening folds, your drooling little hole, shoving his tongue deep inside, his straight nose pressing on your clit, inhaling you as he drinks you both.
“Ohmygod, m’gonna-”
“Cum.” He whispers, looking up under white lashes for just a moment, and then slipping his tongue back inside, making you shatter around him, fuck he almost cums from just that, pressing against the bed more and more eager, lapping every bit of your juices up.
“M-messy
 shit
” He laughs a bit as you look at him, coated in your slick, sucking on two fingers before inserting them in your sore pussy, making you hiss just a bit.
“You are messy, aren’t you? All f’me though, isn’t it?” He’s leaning over you, pressing that spongy spot in sticky gummy walls that grip him, and you nod weakly, gasping for a breath as the dizziness of your orgasm is hitting in waves. “Use your words.”
“All for you, only for you.” He moans now, kissing you deeply, you taste yourself and his cum as you’re trembling thighs squeeze his wrist, but he’s unrelenting. “It’s too much, Toru.”
“No, you can do it hmm? Gimme one more before I fill you, be good f’me, would you?” You nod weakly, earning his grin as he leans on an elbow above you, stroking his cock, watching your reaction. “Good girl, good little messy girl. So wet just for me, mmm.”
“Yes, all f‘you.” You’re whispering, your eyes rolling back a bit as he’s playing with you, feeling so overwhelmed, his cock is so warm and heavy and you’re already drunk off it, you’re feeling his sticky precum slap on your inner thighs now, making your walls clench around his fingers. “I want it in me, please”
“Mmhmm, that’s what I like to hear, begging for it, so needy, god I couldn’t even have imagined this.” He whispers, stroking his cock from the base to the tip, as you’re arching your hips up, silently begging.
“Please, in me, Toru
”
He pulls apart your legs further, easing his fingers out and kissing you deeply, his cock pressing against your soppy little hole, making you shiver as he slips it up to your clit, moaning. “Fuck you feel so good.”
“In me, please- ah!” You whine out, and with one swift thrust he’s in, so deep, making you cry out, and he’s groaning into your mouth, his eyes rolling back as he’s filling you, stretching you, owning you. His hand comes to entwine with yours, leaving you breathless as you look up into his glittering eyes. “Oh god, oh god, Toru!”
He’s thick, so thick and long, hitting deeper than he had in the bathroom, fuck it’s almost too much, it feels like you’re going to split in half. He’s giving you no time to adjust, his eyes dark now, almost black as he loses himself in you, at your pretty face, at your reddened lips. Your cunt fluttering around him, he’s sucking in a breath now, shaking his head.
“Can’t take it, you’re too good.” He huffs, then he’s moving, the sound of his hips slapping against you, your squelching cunt sucking him in greedy when your brain doesn’t know if you can take it. “You’re mine, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
“Yours, all yours- ngh!” You scream out then, and he’s picking up the pace, fucking you quicker and harder, tip dragging along that spot over and over, as he loses himself, maddened by how perfect you feel.
“Like you’re made f’me, f-fuck baby.” He’s shocking you as he shoves your thighs up high, bending you in half. “Gonna fill you so good, can you take me?”
You just nod, unsure as your thighs squish your breasts, then he hits so deep you both scream out, that soft spot up in your cervix. His drooling tip leaks right on it as his vision blurs, focusing on the bulge forming from his cock right between the spot of your thighs, making him lose it more and more.
“Gonna give em a fuckin heir, huh? How m-many?” You can feel yourself tightening around him at his words, losing yourself in him, as he loses his mind, all the ways he’s pictured you can’t compare. No vision or image or touching himself comes close to feeling you beneath him, as he’s fucking harder and harder, losing his rythm, watching your eyes roll back in your skull.
His words are just fueling it, as his hips snap and he’s making the headboard slam against the wall, over and over as he works you, as you feel him wreck your pussy and ruin you, his blue eyes are insane to handle, but you stare right at them, hands clinging to his broad shoulders.
“That’s it, hang on t’me.” He’s whispering, lost in you now, in how impeccable you feel, in how gorgeous you are as your manicured nails press into his shoulders, only making him closer to the edge. “Wanna cum again, all over me?”
Your tears trail as you nod, sniffling as he presses in deep and his leaky tip kisses your cervix, the pleasure is so intense you can’t even think, your nails are digging into his back now, leaving little half moons as he’s pumping in and out of you, your legs shaking. You’re so close, already so exhausted from the pleasure he’s brought, but you crave more, just like him.
“I’m gonna fill you up, so good this time, even more.” His husky whisper mixes with your heart pounding in your ears, with his fancy headboard slamming the wall and the huge bed shaking with his force.
“P-please, fill me ngh!” You cry out as he buries his face against your neck, hands gripping your hips and shoving you fully on his length, eight inches stuffing you so full you’re drooling down to the balls smacking your ass now. You hear the sounds of them smacking, hear his whimpers mixing with yours, as your body feels overwhelmed with every sensation.
“You’re gonna take it all, aren’t you?” He’s grinning into your neck, before he bites you hard with sharp canines, and you’re gasping out in pain and pleasure, when he slams in and rolls his hips, making you feel like you’re floating.
“Y-yes, yesss!” You’re clinging to him desperately, he moans against your ear then, and just like that, he’s letting go, his cum shooting inside of you, filling you to the brim.
“Oh m-my
 you feel so fucking
” He’s huffing as he keeps pumping so much, pulling up to kiss you as he does, making you shiver and cum around his cock just from the hot gooey cum in your hole, coating your walls, so much you think you might die from the pleasure.
You’re struggling to keep tethered to the earth, clinging to him as his mouth kisses yours, and you’re messy kissing, saliva pooling as he moans and cries out, clinging to you. “Love you, love you.” You’re whispering, weakly just a breath, he leans up then, exhaling as he cups your face, studying you.
“God, I love you so much, sweetheart.” He says with a sigh, his cock twitching, still pumping his warmth in you, little spurts that make you whine, breath catching from the aftershocks of you both pulsing. “We could have been doing this, shit.”
He kisses across your collarbone, where it’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat. A hand is sliding down your waist, pressing against your rib cage. You’re trying to come down, to control your breathing, hands enwrapped in his hair then.
“I can’t believe it’s real, it feels like a dream.” You murmur softly, pleasure building back in your tummy as he nips on your collarbone, cock easing out finally.
“I know, it does.” He looks at the mess he’s made of you, smirking deviously then like a little shit, like the Toru you know, and you glare.
“What’s that look for?”
“You’re so fucked out, and look.” He scoops the cum that’s dripping out of your hole, taking it on his fingers and shoving it back in, making you hiss at the soreness, at the overstimulation.
“Too much!”
“But I want her to keep it in.” He says with a pout, watching your greedy pussy suck his fingers back in now. “Look, she’s all puffy and beat up, hah.”
“I can’t stand you.” He’s chuckling, sucking both of you off him, making your mouth drop open at the sight of him, as the moonlight is filtering the room and catching on the hollows of his cheeks, your tummy heating up again. “Satoru, I think you’re actually insane.”
“You haven’t seen shit yet, sweets.” You blink in confusion, because how wasn’t this freaky!? “You’ll find out in time, you’re exhausted, aren’t you?”
“Y-yeah.” You admit shyly, you’ve never done anything close to this, the back to back orgasms and being stretched by him have you throbbing in soreness.
“How about a nice hot shower hmm?”
“Yes please.”
Soon you’re in his luxurious shower, the one you may or may not have played with yourself in, and the one he absolutely played with himself in, and you’re sitting on his bench seat, getting your hair washed, sighing. He’s lathering it up so carefully, fragrant shampoo filling the shower, along with the rising steam of the scalding hot water beating against you both.
“I could get used to this.” You admit, he chuckles now, rinsing your hair out with one of the detachable heads, sighing as he studies you.
“I’ll wash your hair any time.” He says softly, tilting your chin up now, your eyes meet his, watching droplets fall from his snowy lashes as your hands trail down every line of his sculpted frame. “I’ll do anything for you.”
“And so will I, Toru. Anything.” He pulls you up now, against his hot naked body, both slick as he presses you against the shower wall.
“You’re my wife, you’re all mine.” He murmurs, bringing emotions into your throat.
“I’m yours, Toru, yours.”
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Two Months of being married to your best friend, Satoru Gojo (it’s not fake anymore, is it?)
Satoru’s father got better, but he let Gojo take control of the company, and though it’s only been a short amount of time, you and Satoru are an absolute force to be reckoned with, the two of you the perfect power couple as you make changes from every aspect. Every higher up is affected by the changes Satoru makes, as he silently takes so many of them down.
People who need it make more money, and the rich people are still greedy little shits in their own way, but Satoru makes sure they have no easy time with it any longer, always ready to take another peg down. Of course Satoru is rich and he loves his thousand dollar shirts and fancy cars, but the generosity he has and the care speak for themselves.
You both are finishing up a press meeting, when someone in the reporters’ seats asks ‘Mr. Gojo, are you thinking of running for office?’
You pause then, smiling just a bit, as Satoru laughs loudly, shaking his head. “Oh god no, fuck all that, I would be gone from my wife too often.” He pulls you against his side now, smiling at you, his blue eyes lit up as your hand slips up his chest. “She’d be mad at me if I didn’t come home every night.”
“That’s right, I’d miss him too much.” You murmur, and everyone is oohing and ahhing as he kisses you right in front of them, but this isn’t for show.
It never was, really for show, Satoru always wanted this, he wanted to keep you forever, he just didn’t know he could in this way. He was so scared of fucking up and losing you, he kept you there in that zone of friendship, because you were just too important to him, as did you, but now you both were fully open, and it was like every piece of your puzzle fell together.
“I need to get my wife home now.” He says huskily, throwing them all a big peace sign, whispering in your ear - “I need you baby.”
You all have been insatiable the past few weeks, like flood gates opened the moment he entered you, unable to keep your hands off very long. Years and years of longing poured into him taking you in every position, some you hadn’t even seen or heard of, a mix of fucking and making love that was addicting for the both of you.
But mostly, it was easy, easy like breathing to be together, you’ve known each other forever, and those moments of peace with coffee on the balcony, or wine on the couch, were even more precious to you both. Without the unspoken feelings, with finally being open with each other, the deeper you fall in love with him every day you wake up in his big strong arms.
“You should show me, Satoru.” You murmur that night, as you’re kissing in the foyer, his hand entangled in your hair, the aching need building again.
“Show you what, sweetheart?” He murmurs, you’re both backing your way into his room, jackets tossed, stockings ripped, hunger making you both lose control, you lean up on your tiptoes, pulling him down, lips against his ear.
“How you stroked yourself for me. How often was it?” You pull back and catch his blush on his cheeks, his lips parted.
“You’re a freaky little thing, what have I unleashed?” He whispers, chuckling as you giggle, your own blush coloring your cheeks.
“I wanna see.” You pout at him now, and he rolls his blue eyes, before getting a devious smirk.
“Only if you show me how you did it.”
“Oh
” You’re nervously on the bed with him, as he lays you down, kissing across your breasts, biting on a nipple while you take your fingers, trailing them down your tummy. “You wanna see how I failed at cumming hmm?”
“Yes, but one rule. You can’t play with yourself unless I’m here.” You blink in confusion. “It’ll make me jealous.”
“You’re insane!”
“I’m serious, pookie.” He pouts now, and you’re laughing, shaking your head before you feel him taking your hand, pressing your fingers to your clit. “Let me see you play with your pretty little pussy.”
“Y-you too. Your cock, please let me.” You’re whining, soaking wet already as he leans back, stroking his length now from the base to the pretty pink tip, you watch his eyes flutter as he looks at the sight of you. “H-how often d-did you?”
“It’s
 a lot.” He admits, stroking harder now, as you’re rubbing your clit in little circles, whining softly in want for him.
“Oh y-yeah?” He grins now, teeth glinting as his muscles flex, and his huge hand works his veiny length, cock twitching as he spreads your thigh with his other hand, pressing his long fingers against the plush of it.
“You’re so cute.”
“Cute, I’m m-mas- ah!”
“You’re so cute, so pretty, so s-sexy
” He’s whining now, shaking his head as you’re trying to finger yourself, crying out. “Too tiny, pathetic.”
“Oh
 you’re still an
 arrogant- ass of a- ngh!”
“Need help, sweets?” He huffs, and you nod, eyeing him just so, the way that melts him, ends him.
“Let’s switch.” You tug on his cock instead, the slick of your cunt making your silken little hand feel so much better, as he slips two fingers inside your soppy little cunt, and you’re gasping, back arching. “Yesyesyes!”
“Oh my god
 you’re soaked
” He murmurs, leaning over and pressing that spot again and again, watching the wedding ring glint as you stroke him.
“How m-many times, didn’t answer.” You mumble, already fucked out off his fingers, Satoru sighs then.
“Three times a day.”
“Wh-what!?”
“At least.” He’s kissing you now, yanking your hand off and pinning your wrists above his head, lining his cock up with your entrance. “I also caved and took a pair of your panties.”
“You what now?” Your eyes narrow, and he’s giving you this shy, dopey grin, even as he presses his tip in your entrance, and you’re whining at the stretch.
“I tried not to, but
 you really made it hard not to wanna taste you, smell you, have you on my face.” His words make your mind swirl, his eyes turning insane as they do when he’s in you, he goes from this sweet and passionate lover to batshit crazy.
But you love it.
You love him.
“Crazy ass.” You mumble, but he’s laughing as he sinks inside you, so deep, so perfect and right, and you’re whimpering, cunt dripping down his length, as your eyes struggle to not roll back.
“You love it.”
“I do.” He kisses you as he fucks into you, as you fall apart under him, until he’s on you while you’re on your tummy, pressing so deep, taking you over. You’re exhausted when you both finally have had your fill, and you’re collapsed against him in his arms as he strokes your hair.
“Maybe we should
 do another ceremony.” He murmurs softly, and you yawn then, turning your head to study his face in the night.
“I don’t need one, Toru, to know how I’m your wife.” He exhales, pulling you so close against him, feeling your body and how it’s so right there, nestled against his front, how you fit perfectly. In his life, in his arms, wrapped around him, next to him.
“I kinda want one.” He admits, as you’re fading in and out of slumber, and he studies your cute little fucked out face, one he loves to watch in your sleep.
“If you want, we will. Anything you want.”
“Anything you want, sweetheart. I’ll give you anything.” You kiss him, as you feel yourself fading out, smiling against his lips.
“I just want you with me. That’s all.” You’re soon lightly snoring as Satoru cuddles against you, his best friend, his wife, his everything, plotting all the things he wants to do, wants to show you, burying his face against your neck and inhaling your scent, as he hears a sleepy ‘love you Toru’ everything feels perfect.
“I just want you to come with me. Everywhere I go. Forever.” He murmurs, you’re knocked now, but he can’t stop all the pretty images in his head of his wife, and every place he wants to take her, and every surface he wants to fuck her on. He gets so excited he wonders how tired you are.
“Toru!” You’re whining later that night with his cock inside, his fingers on your clit, as he takes you from behind, spooning you, and he realizes you’re never that tired for him. You’ll always take him, and come right with him.
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A/N- Aww fr ty for the love on this, I enjoyed writing it! It was supposed to be a one shot but at 22k I felt like splitting it up made sense. This was a thank you for 5k but I'm almost at 6k!? Ya'll blow my mind. Love youu
taglist one: @plaggi @baepsays @victoria1676 @flwerie @luringfantasy @moncher-ire @allonyyourmom @kindablackenedsuperhero @evelynxxo @jkslaugh97 @sugurusfavemonkey @ninikrumbs @s4ikooo1 @bunheadusa @twinkling-moonlillie @chameleonsoul111 @nina-from-317 @naammiii @whippedbyikemen @alygator77 @uarmyhopeworldwide @1satoruu @theclassbookworm @jud3thedude @isleqt @mcromer2999-blog @silvarys @orikixx @jiejies-corner-store @assbutt-inlove-with-koreans @lordbugs @ari-sa @blue-musingss @minaa-06 @uhnosav @cvixmei @seeiin @indiewritesxoxo @loafteaw @moonlitwitchdaisy @beachaddict48 @miizuzu @honeybunnnnie @gojosukuna2268 @4acoffee @whoreapika @arabellasolstice
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nsharks · 1 day ago
Text
bleeding blue | apocalypse au
part thirty-two —other parts
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pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 5.1k tags: death. blood and gore. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. enemies to lovers. SA and implication of child SA (very subtle). summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: clearly I am bad at estimating how long this story will take lol
The tray of food crashes to the floor at her feet. Salome gasps. Her hand shoots back, fumbling for the doorknob, and her lips part, ready to call the guard you know is just outside.
"If you call for the guard," you stop her, "I’ll cut deeper."
She clamps a hand over her mouth. "Please—stop! Hurting yourselves is a sin, a great dishonor to the body God gave you—"
“It is,” you agree calmly. You press the shard deeper into the cephalic vein, ignoring the bite of pain. Blood spills in a fresh, startling curtain down your arm, the wound mimicking the severity of an arterial cut. “And she’ll blame you for it. You’re the one she entrusted to watch over us, and you didn't notice we broke one of the mugs."
"I did not think you would—"
"What happens to you,” you cut her off, pointing the bloody shard at her stomach, “—and your baby when the two new child-bearers die because of your failure? Because I will die, if I cut any deeper. This artery,” you lie, tapping the wound for emphasis, “is important. If I finish slicing through it, I’ll bleed out in less than a minute. Not enough time for you to get help. Not even enough to try saving me yourself.”
Her lashes flutter rapidly through a swell of tears. "You could have a good life here—"
"Answer me. What happens to you if I die?"
She swallows hard. "She’ll punish me," she whispers frightfully. "I have seen what happens to those who fail her. She might take my child and I will... never see them. Please, don’t do this—”
"Why should we care about you and your child when you are okay with them killing an eleven-year-old girl tomorrow?"
A flash of shame crosses her face. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't know Maman would want the girl. The offering has never been so young before. But it is God's will, there is nothing I can do to—"
"What you can do is open the cell. Open it and we will kill Maman, then you won't have to worry about anyone taking your baby. But if you don't open it, then we die in here and you will face her punishment."
Her lips part, but nothing comes out. She looks between you and Nereida, eyes darting wildly, fingers twitching against her stomach. 
"Decide before I bleed out!"
"I... I can't," she says pitifully.
With a glance at Nereida, she takes her cue, digging into her vein.
"Open the cell," Nereida urges far more soothingly than you can, blood dripping to her elbow. "We won't hurt you. We want Maman gone, not you."
Salome whimpers under her breath, but her fingers move before her mind catches up, reaching inside her robe to retrieve the key, gripping it like it might burn her. She shuffles closer but pauses, inhaling deeply before finally reaching the door. Her hands shake so violently that the key rattles against the lock. It slips against the metal, failing to match the hole, and your finger twitches when she nearly drops it.
"Mais si elles ne parviennent pas Ă  la tuer..." The whisper leaves quietly, lost beneath the veil. "Sa punition pour moi sera pire."
Then, her hand curls back around the key.
She swallows hard—and steps back.
No. 
You see red.
A growl curls at your mouth and you snap forward, grabbing onto her dress through the bars before she can retreat too far, and pulling her flush against them, her forehead banging into the metal. Before she can scream, you clamp a bloody hand over her mouth and then press the piece of broken mug to her neck with just enough pressure to make her panic. She gasps into your palm, struggling. You dig it harder, forcing her body to turn still and rigid.
"Twix—"
"I tried doing things the nicer way," you speak in a low snarl, veering off the script you and Nereida conjured. Round, glossy eyes stare into yours. "You should have made up your mind before getting within my reach. Now give her the key. I’d hate for my hand to slip."
Another sharp press into her skin wrings a squeak from her, her breath coming out jagged and uneven against your palm. Trembling, she extends an arm through the bars, offering the key to Nereida.
The moment Nereida takes it, she fumbles to find the lock from the outside, her fingers searching blindly. The key scrapes against the metal—once, twice—before a soft click finally reaches your ears.
The door swings open.
You don’t hesitate. Keeping your grip firm over Salome’s mouth, you shove through the opening and swing around to the other side. Before she can react, you force her back into the cell, driving her onto the bed. The veil tears free from her head as you pin her down, your weight pressing her into the mattress, the sharp fragment still poised at her throat. When her legs begin to flail helplessly, you order Nereida to grab them. She clasps Salome's ankles to keep her from bucking you off.
"You were afraid of the wrong person," you hiss, your nose nearly brushing hers. "Maman may have spared your life because she values her baby makers—but I don’t. Answer everything I ask, or I’ll show you just how merciless I can be."
The dishonest threat rolls off your tongue with enough force to make her nod frantically, fear widening her eyes. But what she doesn’t need to know—what you won’t let her see—is the part of you still holding back. Because even now, even as you pin her down and press the shard to a vital piece of her throat, you’re careful. You don’t dig hard enough to damage. You don’t let your weight bear down on the swell of her stomach.
"I'm glad we understand each other. I am going to lift my hand, and you're not going to scream. You're going to tell me everything we need to know about the guards out there."
Her lips are puffy and raw when you set them free. 
"There is only one outside the d-door," she sputters in a whisper. "B-but there are more... more by the... h-homes and the keep."
"The keep?"
"Where they keep the new m-males," she chokes out, snot dripping from her nose.
"That's in the old slaughterhouse, right?"
She nods.
"How many guards are over there exactly?"
"I do not know." At your glare, she rushes out, "B-but there are less after d-dinner ends. Many go to sleep, and switch shifts at sunrise."
You mull over the information, eyes darting across her face. “And the child—the offering? Where is Maman keeping her?”
A terrible look of fear ripples through her eyes. "Only few are allowed near the offering b-before her ascension. 
"So you're telling me you don't know?" you seethe in her face.
She sobs. "I know they... they will offer her to the dĂ©mons right before the sun rises. The night is when God’s wrath is strongest, but it’s in the morning—when hope ascends—that we seek atonement."
Despite further pressing, that seems to be the extent of what she knows—or she's still withholding. Either way, you're satisfied enough. You rip strips of the sheet, using one to gag her and two more to bind her wrists and ankles. You and Nereida wrap your wounded wrists tightly to stop the flow. Then, you remove her white gown. You’ll need something to wear that doesn't easily mark you as an escapee, but there’s only the one white dress and veil. You hurriedly slip into them, making sure all of your hair and face is hidden, leaving Nereida still in the thin slip. The shoes Salome wears are thin and made of unsupported leather, but they are all you have to tuck your bare feet into.
Salome said there will be fewer guards after dinner. You and Nereida listen carefully to every sound that bleeds through the window. When you hear a few exchanges of bonne nuit, you figure people are starting to retire for the night. You take this as your cue to grip your makeshift weapon. The guard outside the door is expecting Salome to leave at some point, giving you the perfect opportunity to catch him off-guard while dressed as her.
You quietly open the door to the warm summer night, the long gown ghosting around your ankles. As expected, a well-built man leans against the side of the building, arms crossed languidly. No one else is in sight, which brings you some relief. When his gaze shifts to you, he raises a brow.
"Tout va bien, mademoiselle? Vous ĂȘtes restĂ©e lĂ -dedans un moment."
The last word barely makes it out of his mouth. Within a heartbeat, you spring at him like the head of a snake, one hand over his mouth and the other stabbing his neck with the shard, then sweeping it through the thick of his trachea. A gush of blood oozes out in one thick stream, before he gargles out a strangled choke and turns to dead weight against the wall. 
With Nereida's help, you quickly push his body inside the building to keep anyone from spotting it. 
"Wear this," you usher, already starting to undress him. Like the man who visited you, he's wearing a grey cloak. Though it's too big for her, and bloodied, it will be enough to keep her discreet in the dark, her long hair safely tucked beneath the hood.
Two things race through your mind: the ticking time toward sunrise and the fact that you still don’t know how many more men you’ll have to take out to reach Ghost, Price, and Kyle. The knife you find on the guard adds a small weapon to your shitty arsenal. You have no idea where they could’ve stored the guns and ammo they took from you, or your bow. How you'll manage to fight through a community of cultists without those is a worry you can’t afford to dwell on right now—one step at a time.
After a few minutes of collecting yourselves, urgency pulls the two of you outside, free from the barred enclosure for the first time in almost four days. In the blanket of night, you quickly scan the area, taking in what you’re up against. The community appears fairly spread out, with only six small farmhouses like the one you just escaped from, along with a few larger structures in the near distance—likely where they house the men. You catch a glimpse of a fenced pasture’s perimeter and the unmistakable stench of cattle fills the air. Despite the faint shuffle of hooves and grey plumes of smoke from a few of the chimneys, everything is eerily still, leaving an unnerving amount of quiet for your heart to shatter through.
From what you can see, there aren’t many places to hide Blue, but there could be more to this place beyond what’s visible, especially since the chapel you first saw is nowhere in sight. But none of that matters right now; you need to find the others first if you’re going to have any real chance of saving her and getting out of here.
The next male you encounter spots you first as you make your way up the gravel road towards the barn, the sound of his boots making your hand tighten on the knife's handle. He greets you unassumingly in French, causing Nereida to startle beside you as his shadow approaches. Then he stops in front of her, his shoulders tensing and his hand hovering near a knife at his waist.
"Que fais-tu avec la femelle? C’est interdit!"
Again, you go for the throat, desperate to silence any screams that could cause alarm. You get a good swipe at the base of it, but he is at least a head taller than you, making it difficult to stab fully. He grabs you by the waist, clearly in shock that a veiled female just sprung on him with a knife, but swipes a fist at your face nonetheless. The force spreads through your temple, thrusting your head to the side. 
"Take the knife from him," you hiss at Nereida through the pain, who until now was effectively frozen. She finally moves, using the distraction you've caused as he clutches his bleeding neck, and snatches the knife still hanging at his waist. Once she has it, you leap at the disarmed man again, this time stabbing his liver. With a muffled grown, he face-plants into the gravel, quickly soaking it with blood. 
"The body," she stutters worriedly. "We need to hide it."
You look around, spotting stacks of chopped wood.
"Over there. Help me drag him."
Once the body is heaved behind the logs, you pat him down in search for anything else, but there's nothing.
"Keep that on you," you tell her, and she gives a quick nod, hiding the knife under her sleeve.
You keep following the road up to the fence, your white dress splattered with crimson, resembling the dotted stars overhead. The 'keep' is somewhere by the barn that man said, but you notice smaller buildings to the right and to the left of it. Which one looks like an old slaughterhouse? It's too difficult to tell even when you squint, so you grab Nereida's arm and quickly lower by a bush.
"Watch that one, and I'll keep an eye on this one. Whichever building has more guards patrolling is probably where they're holding them."
"Okay," she whispers, peering around the bush.
Minutes pass. The building on the right has more shadows skirting around it—three guards total. You take a moment to study their movements. One is stationed near the back, the other two at the front.
"I want you to take the one at the back and wait for me. I'll handle the other two."
"How do I take him?" she whispers uncertainly. "He’ll see me coming."
"You’ll come at it from an angle." You point toward a stack of hay. "Sneak over there, quietly. Once you're behind it, circle around and approach where he can't see."
She hesitates, rubbing the back of her hand across her forehead. "I’ve never—"
"Never killed anyone?" 
The way she grips the knife, her fingers white on the handle, confirms it.
"These people deserve it, Nereida," you say, forcing her to meet your gaze. "John is in there."
She closes her eyes, and for a moment, the weight of it all presses down on her. When she opens them again, her jaw is set, and her grip on the knife tightens.
After reminding her where to strike, you pause for a moment, watching as she sneaks over to the hay. Then, you move toward the other two, slipping behind a tree for cover, but your foot catches on something and you almost trip, catching yourself against the bark. Your breath hitches and you steal a peek at them to make sure they didn't hear you. No—they are too busy murmuring to each other, laughing in a low exchange.
When you glance down, you spot a shovel half-buried into the ground, its handle sticking out. Carefully, you wriggle it free, having to grit your teeth to fully remove it. This will let you stun one while you deal with the other. Inhaling deeply to center yourself, palm tight over the splintered wood handle, you close in on the two guards.
The shorter one with curly hair spots you just before you take a swing, his eyes widening. The shovel slams into his skull, effectively making him stumble to the ground, but slips from your grip from the force. The other guard whirls around, hand slapping for the pistol at his belt. You deliver three consecutive stabs to his stomach, heart, and cheek. The gun never leaves his waist before he falls dead.
You suck in a gulp of air just as the curly-haired one regains his footing. His head is still heavy from the blow, and before he can draw his knife, you shove him in the chest, sending him crashing to the ground. You pin him easily beneath you, his movements sluggish and weak. The two of you wrestle in the grass, jagged breaths mixing with frantic, scraping nails, until, with a snarl, your knife finds purchase in his neck, stealing the life from his eyes in an instant. You stab him again and again, shaking, until the ticking urgency pulls you back into control. With a deep breath, you steady yourself and wiggle the knife lodged in his trachea, your hands slippery with blood.
"You got death," you spit in a whisper, thumbing his lids shut.
You lift up.
Now you have a single gun.
It is an old thing. Outdated and far from the military-grade weapons Ghost has. It takes a moment to figure out the parts—your fingers fumble for the small magazine, which is stocked with three bullets. You pull the slide to chamber a round with a click and keep it ready in your hand as you circle the building toward the back, praying that Nereida managed. When you find her, she is stood over the man's body, a deep cut oozing on her cheek.
"He saw me," she says, swallowing. "But I did it."
You nod. "We need to hide them before we go in."
All three bodies are hidden behind the hay stacks. You cover them with manure to mask the smell, not wanting a horde of Greys to materialize. You'd spotted a door at the back and hope it may be more discreet then blazing in through the front, given that you don't know who all is in there. Finger ready on the trigger, you hold your breath as you lead Nereida into the old building, instantly met with the rich smell of pennies. The space quickly unfolds into an old butcher house, rusted hooks hanging from the stone ceiling, the air cramped and cold. 
"Une femme? Maman ne voudrait pas de toi—"
The voice echoes in your ear as you round the corner, and then a fiery bullet rips into the owner's chest. Nereida flinches. Another guard comes barreling over, shouting, but you slide the chamber and shoot him in the head.
You don't linger by the bodies, itching to check the first steel door you see. You lower the gun only to pull at the handle, but it won't budge.
"Check him for keys," you motion to the dead guard.
Nereida crouches, hands rifling through his pockets until she yanks free a ring of keys. Her fingers shake as she tries them one by one, the lock stubborn—until, at last, it gives. With a sharp tug, the door groans open, revealing a windowless chamber. In the center, a lone captive hangs from chains.
It’s Price. Shackles bite into his wrists, his bare chest mapped with deep bruises against pale skin. Beaten, but unbroken—his gaze sharp as it lifts to meet yours. Nereida chokes on a sob, ripping the hood off her head and sinking to her knees before him, cupping his jaw.
A weighted baritone manages: "Duchess."
"There is nowhere I will not find you," she croaks. Teary kisses find the corner of his mouth. "I'm here, I'm here."
"How did you—"
"We got out. Where are the others?" you ask.
His jaw grits. "I haven't seen them since they knocked us out."
"They must be here somewhere. We need to move quick before someone notices the bodies."
After finding the small key to undo the manacles, you leave them to each other for the moment, continuing down the hall until the next door. An undeniable pull rises in your chest, something that has nothing to do with the adrenaline rushing through you—something you can’t quite name. But when you open the door, your heart falters with unwelcome disappointment at the sight of Kyle. He looks equally battered, but still aware enough to lift his head as you step in.
"Who are you?" 
You lift the veil.
"It's me," you answer, the words almost lost in the rush of emotions. Only when you fully take in the room do you notice Ari, curled in the corner. They’ve put them in here together. While there are no obvious injuries on the boy, the sight of the open Bible on his lap, and the empty dinner plate beside him, sends a cold shiver down your spine. You touch his cheek, feeling warmth, and reassure him he’s safe.
You release both of them. "Price and Nereida are through the door down the left. I need to find Ghost. I’ll be back."
Kyle rubs his wrists and manages to stand despite his black eye and shaky legs. "I’ll come with you."
"No. I’ll get him." The words come out sharper than you mean to, but you turn away before he can question them.
You are pulled further through the tight, cold hallway, movements turning more hurried as you look around. There are a few more half-opened doors, but they only lead to supply closets filled with whips and metal batons and empty chambers where old blood stains the floors. Something sharp tugs at your heart, and for the first time since initiating your escape, your fingertips succumb to a tremor of fear. 
Where is he?
The hall spits out into a room where dried animal carcasses hang from the walls.
One final door sits on the far end.
The rusted lock resists, swears hissing from your lips—until a sharp kick forces it open.
The smell thickens with fresh blood, and a cold pit sinks into your stomach at the sight of him—bound in chains, his body slumped haphazardly. Unlike the others, he doesn’t lift his head. You rush forward, a shaky breath catching in your throat as you take in the blood caked on his shoulder blades, deep welts splitting through the inked skin. His back, too, is covered in wounds. He looks worse—so much worse—that a bite of anger swells moisture in your eyes.
"Simon, you idiot. What did you do?" The words slip out on a sharp inhale as you lower yourself in front of him. "Simon," you whisper again, silent tears hot against your lips. You thread a hand through his hair, tilting his jaw up with careful fingers. His eyes are heavy, but relief finds you when they flutter open. He’s alive. The reddened whites flicker over your face, unfocused—until something strange sharpens the haze. A flicker of fear.
"It's me, Simon. We're getting out of here."
The brief fear shifts into shock when he recognizes your face, and only after you fumble with the key ring does understanding click into place, causing his jaw to flex. "Where... where is she?"
"I don't know, but we need to hurry. They have her." You undo the manacles, and his body rolls heavily into you, face falling onto your collarbone. You struggle to hold him up, gripping his shoulders without touching the wounds. A low groan bleeds through his teeth, and his eyes flutter shut again. No, no, no. "Please, you have to... you have to get up, Simon. I can't—she's going to fucking die!"
His upper chest rapidly expands with a breath, and he musters the strength to lift his weight off you and slap a hand against the wall. As he leverages his weight up, you help by grabbing beneath his other arm, until a final rush of adrenaline gets him on his feet. Urgency snaps tension into his limp shoulders, and he growls out another, more steady, breath.
"Price," he says.
"He's alive. Come on."
It takes some effort to help him walk at first, but eventually, he manages on his own. You guide him to the first room, where the others are pacing, murmuring in low voices.
"Simon, Jesus," Price mutters when he sees him.
Ghost brushes it off, his eyes narrowing. "They're going to kill her."
"At sunrise," you add, your voice tight. You pull out the pistol and show it to them. "I have one bullet left. I don't know how many more men are in this cult, but we've killed six so far."
"We have one shitty old gun." Kyle growls in frustration. "They took all our shit. How are we going to—"
"We find the weapons. They must have stored them somewhere," Price says.
"We can't just go searching through every building here. We don't have the time," you press. "And how are we supposed to get it back without everyone noticing we're gone?"
"I don't give a fuck about the guns. We find her first," Ghost grits, nostrils flaring. 
"We can't help her if we don't think things through. We can't just start a war with these people empty-handed, Simon," Price says.
"We find her first!"
"Simon," you say, reaching for his arm, but he pulls it away, clenching his bloody fist. The energy radiating from him would scare you if you didn't feel the same way.
Just then, there is the faint sound of a door opening and footsteps clanging through the hall. You tense up, two male voices shouting in echoes, one of them vaguely familiar.
"Quelqu'un les a tués ! On doit régler cette merde avant que Maman découvre quoi que ce soit."
"Les putains de prisonniers!"
Before you can react, Ghost snatches the pistol from your grip. The second they rush toward the open door, he launches at them—an elbow to one’s face, the butt of the gun breaking the nose of the other. Price uses Nereida's knife to stab the fallen guard, while Kyle helps Ghost subdue the second one. You only recognize him as the man who made you strip when they forcibly drag him toward the manacles, the sight of his blonde hair making your nails curl into your palms.
"You stupid fucking Brits!"
Ghost strikes the gun into his left eye, making him jerk within the constraints, howling as the socket turns into bloody pulp. 
Kyle grips the man's scalp from behind to hold his head up, while Ghost presses the gun into his cheek, where you notice a wound shaped like a bite mark.
"Tell us where she is," he roars. "Or I'll take the other eye."
Nereida cowers into the corner, holding onto Ari's arm. 
"I don't know!" the man spits blood, and Ghost digs the gun into his cheek, ripping it open further until the bitten flesh hangs as a torn flap, exposed all the way to his eye. The scream that follows feels inhuman. "I swear, I don't—I don't fucking know!"
Fresh blood drips to the floor. Price, much more calm, lowers at the man's side. "How many people live here?"
The man grits his teeth, struggling to answer, "T-thirty males, and six females. Plus the infants."
Twenty-two now, you count in your head.
"And the weapons we had. What about those?" Price questions further.
When only staggered, pained breaths fills the room, Ghost tosses the bloody gun and grabs the knife from Price, stabbing the man's kneecap without hesitation. Another scream ensues, and there is the small itch to cover your ears, but you steel yourself against the wall to keep watching.
"Answer the fucking question." Ghost twists the knife in his knee.
He cries out, more bloody spittle flying from his mouth. "All of the ammo is hidden. Only A-Alexandre knows!"
"Who is Alexandre?"
“Maman's son, he enforces her commands and oversees the males.”
"Where is he?" Price asks, voice hard.
“He
 he resides in the work shed, while the rest of us sleep in the quarters within the barn.”
You step forward. "We saw another building outside with just one guard, that must be it."
There is a beat of silence as Price processes the information, giving Ghost a satisfied nod. With pain still contorting his face, the man's eye drifts past Ghost's shoulder toward you. His lips twitch into a faint, bloody smirk that makes your skin crawl. Ghost follows his gaze, snarls, and abruptly slashes the man's throat from ear to ear.
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B
It is still dark when Eloise comes to awaken her, though Blue's eyes never once fell shut with sleep. She spent the short-lived night alternating between staring at the crescent moon outside the window, and fiddling with the knitting needles left on the table. There is a new dress in the woman's clutch, beautiful white fabric embroidered with flowers, and a pair of beautiful leather shoes in the other hand.
"See? I told you the dress would be nicer." She smiles and hands it over, as if to offer something to be thrilled for. "You must change quickly. There is a lovely breakfast of framboises and milk waiting for you. Put these on as well." She sets the shoes on the floor.
Blue thinks it strange, to bother feeding her just before her death. Blankly, she asks, "How many people will be there? To watch me die."
Eloise's smile quivers slightly, a slight crack in her composure. "Not too many, I assure you. Only a few of us women, and one or two worthy men. Most are still sleeping." After a pause, she adds even quieter, almost ashamed, "Be thankful you don’t suffer through childbirth instead. It is... a painful thing. Long, too. At least this pain will be honorable and swift."
Blue's fingers tighten around the dress. "Okay. Do you mind if I change alone, please?"
Eloise bows her head. "Of course."
She casts one last gentle glance her way before shuffling out of the room, locking the door behind her and leaving Blue with only the dress and shoes. Once the door is closed, Blue quickly slips the dress on, shuddering as the cold fabric caresses her limbs. It’s more beautiful than anything she can remember ever wearing, and that disgusts her. Swallowing the churn in her stomach, she grabs the needles and sits back on the bed.
The wounds on her feet are shallow, her fingernails only able to pierce the thick skin slightly. Using the needles, she digs into them deeper, trembling from the pain that throbs as fresh blood begins to seep from the soles. She cuts and cuts furiously, teeth gritted, praying it’s enough to soak into the shoes she slips on over the new wounds. She covers the blood stains on the sheet with the blanket, then stands, almost crying out from the agony of walking on her torn feet.
"Please dad," she whispers, closing her eyes briefly, before calling to Eloise that she is ready.
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"But if they don't manage to kill her... her punishment for me will be worse." "Is everything alright, miss? You've been in there for a while." "What are you doing with the female? It’s forbidden!" "A woman? Maman wouldn’t want you—" "Someone killed them! We need to fix this shit before Maman finds out anything." "The fucking prisoners!"
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fairqves · 2 days ago
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à­šà­§ NIGHTMARES
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───── IN WHICH you have a bad nightmare about the members cheating on you!
(🐰) ⟡ 𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗱𝗚𝗹𝗘 — đ’œyung line! enha & 𝑓! reader .. angst to fluff, established relationship ♡ ◞ wc 0.3K each 𓂅 warnings : topic of cheating, skinship, kissing.
đ–±đ–€đ–Ąđ–«đ–źđ–Šđ–Č đ– đ–Żđ–Żđ–±đ–€đ–ąđ–šđ– đ–łđ–€đ–Ł à«źâ‚ ˃ ’ ˂ ₎ა
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LEE HEESEUNG
YOU FOUND YOURSELF waking up gasping, your body hot and uncomfortable as your heart hammered in your chest.
the vivid memories of the dream lingered in your memory—the distant look on heeseung’s face, the other person’s face, and the way he had looked at you like you were absolutely nothing to him.
you sat up, the blankets tangled around your legs as you tried to shake off the ache in your chest.
heeseung stirred beside you with a groan at the disturbance of his slumber, his hand immediately reaching out for you, his voice groggy as he blinked up at you. ── đ–±đ–€đ–Č𝖳 đ–Ąđ–€đ–«đ–źđ–¶ ♡
“what’s wrong, babe?” his eyes were barely open, but the concern in his voice was quite clear. you didn’t want to tell him. it was stupid, simply a figment of your imagination, but the pain still felt so real.
he noticed your hesitation, now fully awake as he sat up to face you. “hey—talk to me. did you have a bad dream?”
“it’s nothing,” you whispered, avoiding his gaze, but your trembling voice betrayed you.
heeseung gently cupped your face with a pout, his thumbs wiping away the glossy tears you didn’t realize had fallen. “nothing doesn’t make you cry like this. tell me, baby.”
finally, you broke—spilling everything in a blabber of words, how you dreamt that he had cheated on you, how cold and uncaring he had been in the dream, and how it left you feeling so vulnerable.
heeseung’s eyes widened, and his expression softened into something that made your chest ache even more—love and guilt for something he hadn’t even done.
“angel,” he whispered, pulling you into his arms. “i don’t know what i did in your dream, but i’m so sorry it made you feel like this. i promise you, on everything in this world—i would never, ever, ever do that to you.”
his hold around you was firm, grounding, and his voice gentle as he reassured you. “i love you so much, words can’t even explain it. you’re the only one for me in this lifetime, and all my other ones too, okay? i love you and you only. whatever happened in that dream isn’t real, but i know your emotions are, and i’ll do whatever i can to make you feel better.”
you sniffled at his words as you clutched onto his shirt tighter, the pain easing away as he held you in his embrace.
he stayed up with you for the rest of the night, holding you close in his arms and whispering sweet affirmations until your breathing evened out and sleep finally came.
PARK JONGSEONG
THE SOUND OF YOUR SOBS had quickly pulled jay out of his deep slumber immediately.
he bolted upright, his sharp gaze scanning the room before settling on you, curled up onto your side with your face buried in your hands.
“honey, what’s wrong?” his voice was laced with urgency as he reached out to touch your shoulder. you flinched at his touch, which only deepened his worry. “did something happen? are you hurt?”
you shook your head, trying to compose yourself and get it together, but the dream had felt so real.
his voice, the way he held someone else so easily, and the way he had walked away from you with no regrets—it all came rushing back.
jay’s hand hovered in the air before he gently turned you to face him. “hey, look at me. please.” his voice was softer now, his brows furrowed in concern.
you took a shaky breath and finally met his gaze. “i had a dream that you.. that you cheated on me.”
jay blinked, his lips parting in surprise. for a moment, he didn’t know what to say, but then he saw the tears pouring down your face, the pain and heartbreak written all over your features, and his chest tightened.
“y/n,” he began carefully, his hands settling on the sides of your face. “i don’t know what happened in that dream, but i’m so sorry it hurt you like this.” his voice cracked slightly as he continued.
“you mean everything to me. even the thought of hurting you like that—” he stopped, shaking his head as if even imagining it was too much to bear.
“it wasn’t real,” you whispered, but your voice wavered.
“no, but your feelings are,” jay said reassuringly. “and i’m here to remind you that you’re the only one i want. i don’t care what dream jay did—i’m the real one, and i’d never do anything to lose you.”
he stayed with you, talking softly about the future he envisioned with you—little details like the places he wants to travel with you and the kind of house he dreams of building together. his words were like the calm after a storm, slowly mending the cracks the dream had left behind.
SIM JAEYUN
YOU DIDN’T REALIZE you had been crying in your sleep until you woke up to jake shaking you gently. “y/n? wake up. are you okay?” his voice was thick with drowsiness but filled with concern.
when you opened your eyes, the sight of his worried face brought a fresh wave of tears. he frowned, pulling you close. “hey, what’s wrong? talk to me.”
“i—i had a dream,” you managed to choke out, your voice muffled against his chest.
“what kind of dream?” jake’s voice was calm, but his hands trembled slightly as he held you, as if he were preparing himself for whatever you were about to say.
“you cheated on me,” you whispered, the words feeling like poison on your tongue.
jake pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes wide. “what?” his reaction was immediate—hurt flashed across his face, but it was quickly replaced by a sadness. “oh, baby. i would never do that to you.”
“i know it was just a dream,” you said quickly, embarrassed by how emotional you felt. “but it felt so real, jake. i can’t shake it off.”
he didn’t say anything at first, he just pulled you back into his arms, holding you as though you might disappear. “i hate that you even had to feel like that, even in a dream,” he whispered against your hair.
“i love you so much, and the thought of hurting you like that—” he broke off, taking a deep breath. “i’d rather lose everything than lose you.”
jake spent the rest of the night proving it wasn’t just words. he showered you with affection, his hands brushing your hair back, his lips pressing soft kisses to your temple, your forehead, your cheeks. he didn’t let you go until he was sure you believed him.
PARK SUNGHOON
YOU WOKE UP ONLY to find sunghoon’s side of the bed empty, which only made the lingering weight of the dream worse.
the image of him with someone else, his cold voice telling you he was in love with someone else, played on repeat in your mind.
your cries must have been louder than you thought because moments later, sunghoon appeared in the doorway, holding a glass of water.
“you’re awake,” he said, his tone soft. “i heard you mumbling in your sleep. you okay?”
you shook your head, biting your lip in attempt to keep the tears at bay, but it was no use. sunghoon was at your side in an instant, placing the glass on the nightstand and pulling you into his arms.
“what happened? did you have a nightmare?”
you nodded, but the words wouldn’t come out. sunghoon pulled back slightly to look at you, his hands cupping your face. “whatever it is, it’s okay. you can tell me.”
“i dreamt you cheated on me,” you finally admitted, your voice breaking at the words. sunghoon’s face fell, his brows furrowing together in confusion and pain at the sheer thought.
“cheated on you? y/n, no. never.” his voice was firm, almost desperate. “how could you even dream of something like that?”
“i know it wasn’t you,” you said quickly, tears streaming down your face. “but it felt so real, and i woke up feeling like i lost you.”
sunghoon sighed, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “you didn’t lose me. you never will.” his voice softened, and he rested his forehead against yours. “i don’t know what dream-me was thinking, but real-sunghoon is so crazy about you, it’s embarrassing sometimes.”
his attempt to cheer you up brought a small, shaky smile to your lips, which he immediately noticed.
“there it is,” he said softly, caressing away your tears. “that’s the smile i love. don’t let some stupid dream take it away.”
sunghoon stayed close to you all night, his warm presence being a reassurance—he made you laugh with funny stories and whispered sweet affirmations until the ache in your chest finally faded.
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© FAIRQVES 2025 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. i’m in love with my theme rn like omg why did i eat down.. anyways everybody plz pray there’s a snowday on monday !!
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @iluvnikism @rikibwn @wonsprincess @niawonn @pockyyasii @kiss4noo @nineooooo @loves0ft @ancnymcnzjy @dazzlingjaeyun
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soangelbaby · 2 days ago
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àŠ“ need your kids ; jensen ackles
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“. . . have a baby by me, baby be a billionaire . . .”
jensen grips your hips, lifting you slightly off the bed to remove your white lace panties. “you want my babies huh?” he smirked, lining his dick up at the slit of your already leaking pussy. he didn’t slide in immediately, instead he teased you, brushing his tip lightly against your soaking folds. you didn’t answer, just reached up gripping his shirt, “jensen—fuck please..” you moaned as you watched him play in your juices. he always went for games, always made you beg, with him nothing ever came easy. why would this be any different?
“please what baby? tell me what you need, i can’t read your mind.” he snickers, his hands travel up your body, stopping just at the curve of your waist. his eyes were locked on you, he loved the sight of you so desperate and needy for him, so vulnerable, he could keep you like this forever. “please nut in me, fill me up, want all of you.” you breathed out, your fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt. jensen let out a low chuckle before leaning down to kiss you sloppily, he moved down to your neck sucking on your sweet spot. your polished nails clawed at his back as you felt his dick at your entrance again, but this time he slips in—no warning.
“f-fuck yes, jensen.” you moan out, feeling his dick veins rub against your walls, you could hear how wet you were for him, each thrust drawing everything out of you. his face was still buried in your neck, nipping and biting at the skin there, you were sure a hickey was already forming. “that’s it, take it all. let’s see if i can finally knock you up this time, yeah?” he groans against you, your stomach does flips as you let his words sink in. you wanted it so bad, no—you needed it, needed to see his cum leaking out of you, needed to milk him completely until he had nothing left to give, you wanted every single drop.
“mhm, baby—ugh—need all of it.” you arch into him, his dick repeatedly hitting your g-spot. his pace is brutal, relentless, there’s nothing soft about the way he’s fucking you, like he’s trying to bury himself so far you’ll never get him out. his fingers press against your lower belly, feeling every inch of himself there, how deep he’s buried inside you. “you feel that, baby? feel how deep i am? you’re gonna take all of it.” his voice low, thick with possession as he spreads your thighs wider for him, nearly behind your head. you nod, lips parting, but no words come out—just a breathy, wrecked little whine. your hands gripping his arms, fingertips leaving little crescents in his skin as his dick twitches inside of you. your legs lock around his waist and his thrusts become harsher, more punishing.
“shit babydoll, so tight and swollen for me.” jensen growls into your mouth. “tell me how bad you want my seed baby, tell me how bad you want me to make you a mommy, gonna fucking ruin you for anyone else.” his hand slips down between you to trace lazy circles over your clit, making your hips jolt. the added sensation is enough to send you over the edge, your entire body trembles beneath him, drawing a loud throaty whine from you. “there it is, such a good girl. taking my dick so well, this pretty pussy is all mine.” his weight is firm, pinning you in place as he ruts into you with reckless abandon. his lips drag along your jawline, breath hot against your skin—and then you feel it. the warm liquid shooting into you, coating your walls, and a guttural moan escapes jensen’s lips, rumbling against your skin. your walls clench around him, keeping his nut inside, it flooding you, spilling so deep into your spent little pussy.
“now get ready for another one, i’m not pulling out until i know it stuck kay? you wanted me raw, right baby?”
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☆ rini’s note ; thought of this listening to 50 cent last night, it’s a little rushed and not really proofread js bc i was excited ???? idk enjoy or don’t ;) tho likes + reblogs are so so appreciated!
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ateezscupid · 2 days ago
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─── FEB FILTH FEST: Call Out My Name - DOM & SUB ♡
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SUMMARY / You woke up needy, and Hongjoong helped.
warnings ✩ PORN LINK, SMUT, DOM/SUB dynamics, soft!dom hongjoong, fem!reader, sub!reader, vanilla sex, daddy kink, praise, not really ddlg (the lg part weirds me out) so it's kind of just dd, oral (f), unprotected sex
word count ✩ 1,95k
tags ✩@desirehorizon @tangerineastronaut @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @bbdeongi @dawn-iscozy @xh01bri @mallielovssyou @clxssy1997 @soreberry
ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST / FEB FILTH FEST
NOTE !! None!
"Harder
" you mumble in your sleep, your fists clenched tightly under the blankets. The room is silent except for the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. It's 8 AM, but the curtains are drawn, keeping the light at bay.
You whimper, your body jerking itself awake. You looked around and scoot closer to Hongjoong, feeling embarrassed for disturbing him. The digital clock beside the bed glows 8:03 AM, the red digits pulsing steadily like a silent alarm. The room is small, cluttered with the remnants of last night's study session: textbooks, empty cups of coffee, and crumpled papers litter the floor and desk. The air is stale, a testament to the lack of open windows and fresh air.
"Joong
" you shook him a bit. His eyes snapped open, and he sat up with a start, scanning the room with a wild gaze. Recognizing the safety of his own space, he relaxed slightly.
"You okay?" he whispered, his voice thick with sleep.
You shook your head, pushing the covers off of you and crawling on top of you. "No," you tugged at your shirt. "I need you
"
Hongjoong's eyes softened, and he reached out to pull you closer into his arms. "Yeah? How bad?" His question was gentle, his voice a soothing balm to your ringing head.
"Really bad," you tugged at your shirt. "P-Please. Just
.u-use your mouth or something." You felt your cheeks flushing hot with embarrassment. You had never been this vulnerable with him before.
"Aw, is my baby needy?" he teased, trying to ease the tension, but the tremble in your voice didn't go unnoticed. He could feel the urgency in your touch. With a sigh, he rolled onto his back, giving you access to his bare chest. "Do whatever you need to feel better," he said, his eyes searching yours for reassurance that this was really what you wanted.
"N-No, I need-" you tear your shirt off. "I need this." The fabric was sticky with cold sweat and it was suffocating you.
"Yeah?" he runs his fingers up and down your waist. "Okay
 lay down."
You nod and plop onto the other side of the bed, laying on your back, the cool air from the air conditioner a welcome relief on your bare skin. Hongjoong sits up, the sheets falling away from his chest as he hovers over you, spreading your legs.
He pulled your pajama shorts down to your thighs, exposing your most intimate parts to the coolness of the room. His warm breath tickled your skin as he leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on the inside of your left thigh. You felt a shiver run up your spine, the anticipation building like a crescendo in a symphony. The touch was light and feathery, his tongue tracing patterns that made you squirm with pleasure. He moved closer, his nose brushing against your core, and you could feel the heat from his breath.
"Joongie~," you mewl as his mouth finds the right spot, his tongue swirling and pressing down, sending waves of pleasure through your body. His eyes meet yours, filled with hunger and affection as he continues to explore your wetness with tender strokes. Your back arches off the bed, pushing your pelvis closer to his face, desperately seeking more.
"R-Right there, right there-" you run your fingers through his hair, guiding him as his mouth works its magic. Each flick of his tongue sends shockwaves of pleasure through your core, making it impossible to hold back the moans that spill from your lips. He hums in response, the vibrations adding another layer to the sensations.
You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your breaths coming out in ragged gasps. Hongjoong's tongue moved in a steady rhythm, lapping up your wetness as if he was afraid he might miss a single drop. His eyes never left yours, and you could see the determination in them to bring you to climax.
"R-Right TH--FUCK!" You cry out. "D-Don't stop!"
Hongjoong smirks, the vibration from his voice adding to the pleasure. He knows exactly what you need. He flattens his tongue and presses it firmly against your clit, the pressure and speed increasing as you get closer to the peak of pleasure. Your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging gently as your body tenses. You're panting now, each breath shallower than the last.
"H-Hongjoong!" you moan, your eyes rolling back as the pleasure intensifies. Your legs quiver and tighten around his neck as you feel yourself approaching the brink of your climax. His tongue never falters, lapping at you with an urgency that matches the racing of your heart. You can feel your muscles tense up, the heat within you building like a volcano ready to erupt.
With a final, desperate push, you come apart in his mouth, your body spasming as the orgasm washes over you. The room fades away, leaving only the sensation of his tongue and the sound of your own cries of pleasure. He continues to lick and suck gently, riding out the waves with you until they subside, leaving you trembling and breathless on the bed.
When you open your eyes again, the room is a hazy blur of shadows and early morning light. Hongjoong wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a smug look on his face. "Feel better?" he asks, his voice low and smoky.
"Mhm
" you mumble, your voice a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion as your body relaxes into the mattress. You can feel your heart rate slowly returning to normal, the throb between your legs echoing the beat of your pulse.
Hongjoong pushed his boxers down a bit, just enough for his cock to come out. It was hard, standing tall and demanding attention. You could see the precum glistening at the tip, a testament to his own need. "Now, let me take care of this," he murmured, his eyes locked on yours as he positioned himself between your legs.
He gently pushed your legs further apart, and you felt the tip of his erection brush against your sensitive skin. Your breath hitched, the remnants of your orgasm still pulsing through your body as you anticipate his next move. With a firm grip on his shaft, he guided it to your entrance, pausing for a moment to appreciate the view. Your eyes locked onto his, filled with a mix of lust and love as he pushed inside you.
"You feel that?" he whispered, his voice a seductive purr as he began to rock his hips, his cock inching deeper into you. The sensation was exquisite, filling you up completely, stretching you around him. You nodded, unable to form coherent words, your eyes fluttering shut as he claimed you with a gentle but firm strokes.
"Spread your legs a little more for me, pretty girl," Hongjoong instructed, his voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down your spine. You obeyed, opening yourself up to him completely, and he took full advantage of the invitation. With a gentle push, he sank deeper, his cock sliding in and out of you with a slick sound that filled the room.
His movements grew more deliberate, his hips rolling into yours in a slow, steady rhythm that had you squirming with pleasure. The friction was perfect, his length hitting all the right spots and sending sparks of pleasure through your body with every thrust. You could feel yourself clenching around him, trying to hold onto the feeling of fullness as he began to quicken his pace.
"Joong
" you moaned, your hips rising to meet his, eager for more. His eyes darkened with desire as he watched your reaction, his own need growing with every whimper and gasp you made. He leaned down to kiss you, his tongue delving into your mouth as his cock drove deeper into you. The kiss was as passionate as it was possessive, a silent declaration of his love and desire.
"God, you feel so fucking good," he groaned against your lips, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he bit down gently, claiming it as his own. Your hands gripped the bedsheets, your nails digging into the fabric as you tried to hold on to the sensations threatening to overwhelm you.
His rhythm grew faster, his cock pistoning in and out of you with increasing urgency. Each thrust sent a shock of pleasure through your core, and your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper. You could feel the tension building again, your body begging for release.
"F-Faster," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper. The words seemed to spur Hongjoong on, his hips snapping against yours with a newfound fervor. The slap of skin on skin filled the air, punctuating the quietude of the early morning. His eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine.
"Oh my god," you shudder, nails digging into the pillow under your head. You pull it over your face and close your thighs, trying to muffle the sounds escaping you. His chuckle is muffled by your skin, sending vibrations through your core.
"It's okay, baby. I got you," he grabs your hips, not stopping his pace, his movements becoming more demanding. You can feel his muscles tensing, his breaths growing more ragged. The bed creaks under the weight of your passionate dance, the sound only adding to the intensity of the moment.
"Cmon, give it to me baby," he moans, your voice muffled by the pillow as your body arches off the bed. The pleasure is unbearable, a sweet agony that has you writhing under him. He's so deep inside you, filling you up in a way that nothing else ever could. Your toes curl, your nails dig into the mattress as he hits that spot inside you that makes you see stars.
"D-Daddy, I-I'm-"
"Let it out, baby," he growled, his own need clear in his voice. He grabbed your thighs, pushing them apart wider as he drove into you with a ferocity that sent you spiraling over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, your body trembling and shaking with the force of it. Your muffled screams filled the room, the pillow doing little to hide the raw passion of the moment.
As the intensity of your climax began to subside, you felt him tense above you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes searched yours, looking for permission, for the green light to let go of his own control. You nodded, your body still pulsing with pleasure.
"Good girl," he murmured before pulling the pillow from your face and capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss. His tongue invaded yours, mimicking the rhythm of his hips as he thrust into you one last time, his cock swelling and spilling his hot seed deep within your quivering walls. The feeling of him filling you up was almost too much to handle, but it only served to heighten the aftershocks of your orgasm.
When he finally pulled out, you felt empty and exposed, your body still sensitive from the intense pleasure. He leaned over to kiss your neck, his teeth grazing the tender flesh as his hand found your clit, sending a jolt through your system. "You're so beautiful when you come," he whispered, his voice hoarse with his own release.
"T-Thank you
" you managed to murmur, your voice still shaky from the intensity of your orgasm. Hongjoong pulled out of you gently, his cock leaving you with a feeling of emptiness that was almost painful. He collapsed beside you, his chest heaving with exertion, his body glistening with a sheen of sweat.
"Let's go clean you up."
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fawnhart · 1 day ago
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drew begs bambi to forgive him ! ˚ ᥣ𐭩. đ–„” àč‹àŁ­
They had just wrapped filming her final season on Outer Banks. The whole time, Bambi acted as if she wasn’t hurting inside and nailed every single take flawlessly. Drew, on the other hand, was a mess and everyone knew it.
He kept messing up his lines, forgetting his call times, and dozing off between takes. In a way, Bambi felt bad for him. But he had no right to her sympathy, at least not at the moment
Now, both back in New York, Drew for a photoshoot and Bambi back in her elementl she couldn’t help but look at him with disgust and anger.
How dare he show up?!
It was one of those nights where everything was happening all at once and nothing at all. Drew stood at Bambi’s townhome door, soaked from the rain, his hands trembling, his chest tight. His mullet was a mess, not giving a damn if paparazzi caught him. He just wanted her to listen. She stood there, arms crossed as her eyes burned with anger, hurt, maybe a little curiosity, but mostly just tired.
she had every right to be
“Please, Bambi. Please, let me in. I can’t” He cut himself off, his voice breaking just a little, the words too heavy in his chest. He couldn’t keep pretending to be fine. Not anymore.
She didn’t move, arms crossed, standing her ground. She was beautiful like that, even if her face was streaked with tears, even if her lip trembled slightly.
“You can’t just come in here after everything, Drew.” Her voice was quieter than he expected, but sharper. It made his heart twist “You think you can just say sorry and it all goes away!?”
“I’ve been a mess without you, baby. I’ve screwed everything up,” he said, his words coming out in a rush “I was
 I was just scared. Scared of you and your reputation, of what people would say about us. i-” His voice cracked, and he quickly cleared his throat, trying to hold it together “I thought if I distanced myself, it would protect you.”
Bambi’s expression softened, just a little, but not enough for him to get comfortable. She was still holding that distance “You pushed me away because of what other people might think?” Her voice wavered just slightly on the word might. “And that’s supposed to be for my own good?”
He dropped his head, his eyes stinging “I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was..no, I am an idiot.
She didn’t say anything, but her gaze never wavered. After a long silence, she sighed, her breath shaky “And then there’s your friend” she said, almost too quietly for him to hear.
The words hit him like a punch in the stomach. He didn’t need to ask which friend she meant. That girl. The one who had spent more time telling Drew what a mess he was for being with her than actually being his “friend”. Drew had started to feel that insidious doubt creeping in, her words twisting around in his head like vines.
“She told you I wasn’t good enough, didn’t she?” Bambi asked, and there was a bitter edge to her voice.
“i-I didn’t believe her, baby,” Drew said quickly, his hands shaking again. He took a step forward, desperate “I never believed her. I-look, I shouldn’t have listened to her at all. I was so caught up in my own shit, and-”
“And what!? You let her tell you who I am!? Who we are!? But you were perfectly fine having sex with me?, right” she said feeling utterly and totally used
He swallowed hard, a heavy knot in his throat “I should’ve told her to back the fuck off. I should’ve told you sooner. I should’ve never let her put those thoughts in my mind. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
The air in the apartment felt thick, too heavy to breathe. He finally dropped to his knees, his face flushed with the weight of it all “I love you, Bambi. Please... don’t shut me out. I need you. I can’t fix this without you.”
Her eyes flickered with pain as she stared down at him, her arms still crossed, but now her lips were pressed tightly together as she fought back more tears. She couldn’t let him see her break just yet. Not like this. Not when she was still trying to figure out whether or not she could believe him.
“You really hurt me, Drew. You have no idea how much.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she turned away, wiping at her eyes. She moved slowly, the silence between them stretching like a thin wire.
Drew stayed kneeling, helpless. “Please, Bambi. I’ll do anything. Just tell me what I need to do.”
She turned back to him, eyes red-rimmed but steady. “You have to prove it. You have to show me you’re not just talking. Words don’t mean anything anymore.” She paused, her gaze hardening. “And you need to cut her off. She’s clearly got it out for me, and for us, and you can’t keep her around if you want to make this right.”
He nodded immediately “I swear I will. I’ll cut her off. I’ll do anything. Just... please don’t leave me.” His voice was raw, the last of his pride crumbling.
Bambi stared at him for a long moment, and then she sighed “Fine,” she said quietly “But I’m not forgiving you tonight. I need to think about it.”
Drew’s heart sank, but he nodded, trying to be understanding, even if every fiber of him wanted to scream.
“Get up, you’re embarrassing me” He stood up slowly, and she led him into her townhome, but not without a sharp glance over her shoulder as she said, “And you’re sleeping outside tonight, With my cat.”
Drew blinked, startled. “What?”
“I’m serious. Outside. With Ms. Mocha. You can sleep on the balcony.” Her tone was final, but there was a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she walked past him into the closet, grabbing a blanket and tossing it in his direction.
Drew was about to protest, but the look on her face stopped him. The soft, determined way she held herself now was a reminder of why he loved her in the first place, because she never made anything easy for him. She knew her worth, even if he had forgotten for a while.
He grabbed the blanket, muttering, “I’m an idiot.”
Her lips quirked up at that, just a little. “Yeah. You are. But you’re still my idiot.” She softened then, her voice growing quieter. “you have to prove you deserve to be with me. Because I can’t go back to being second place.”
Drew nodded, his chest tight. “I swear I will. I swear.” He hesitated then added “can I atleast sleep on the couch?” he said with a weak smile
Bambi rolled her eyes, but it was playful now, the tension easing just enough for her to offer him a tiny truce. “Fine. I haven’t burned your clothes yet, consider yourself lucky.” She said heading to her room to grab some of his pajamas he had left there several times
He laughed softly, grateful for the small weird victory. He knew it was far from over, but it felt like a step in the right direction.
“missed you Mocha” he whispered as he curled up on her soft pink couch, Ms. Mocha curled up next to him with an irritated meow, Drew stared at the night sky view from her townhome, wondering how he could have been so fucking stupid. But maybe, he had a chance to make it right.
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© 𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓
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sc0tters · 2 days ago
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Be a Brat and Find Out | Quinn Hughes
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summary: there is only so much of bratty you that Quinn can take before he teaches you a lesson.
request: yes/no
warnings: mature themes, p in v, swearing, cock riding?
word count: 0.95k
authors note: hello and welcome to the first part of the one shot wonder event! this was so much fun to write, I am not someone who usually writes blurbs let alone smut ones so I really do hope that this is enjoyed by you guys. the idea for this one stuck in my brain for a while so it was about time I got it written out!
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This was a sight Quinn swore would have been in his dreams. 
Your whimpers echoed off of the walls of your bedroom “fuck baby you could have had such a good night.” Quinn sighed keeping his hands on your hips, making sure that you couldn’t stop your movements.
You sat in nothing more than your Canucks scarf tears stained your cheeks with your lipstick practically gone now. The folds of your pussy wrapped around his cock “please Quinny.” You begged cutting yourself off as he brought his hand up to tug at your scarf “don’t make me out to be the bad guy doll.”Quinn shook his head. 
The captain raised his free hand up to smack your ass “ahh.” You whimpered feeling him massage the area of your skin that he had hit. 
You had pushed him over the edge that night after particularly rough game. It toppled over the tower of close interactions you had with Cole McWard over the last week. Quinn swore that he was close to killing his younger teammate if you laughed at another stupid thing that came from his lips. But now it was you that felt the brunt of Quinn’s anger. 
That’s how you ended up on his cock because after a long ride home where you were dangerously close to pulling his cock out in the car, when your hand edged dangerously close to his upper thigh. Quinn refused to believe that you deserved to be properly fucked, that’s why you weren’t sat with his cock inside of you. You had fucked yourself on his thigh before, in fact it was one of your favourite things when you craved his attention. 
But now Quinn sat watching how your folds swallowed his cock, desperately rubbing your clit against his length. It was selfish, even you knew that but god were you loving how the hunger in your stomach felt.
Your eyes screwed shut feeling his cock throb against your clit “shouldn’t even fucking let you cum.” Quinn scoffed as he wrapped his arms around your throat slowly the blood flow to your brain “no!” You yelled shaking your head. 
The boy cocked his head “you think that’s the right attitude to get what you want?” He asked squeezing his hand “please Quinny.” You begged almost wondering how coherent words came from your lips. 
Quinn smiled, you were on the right track, “please what?” He pushed your buttons now feeling his strength wavering “wanna cum so bad.” You pleaded with a soft sniffle. 
Your body jolted feeling the head of his cock brush against your let, his precum spreading against your sensitive bud. His hand forced your hips back down, you weren’t allowed to get off that fast “even after you were such a brat all week?” The captain taunted you, using the hand that stayed around your throat to keep you upright. 
You tried everything to rest your head against his shoulder “sorry.” Was all that escaped from your lips “for what?” Quinn chewed at his lip seeing how your slick coated his cock. 
It shone like it screamed to actually be fucked, to be given the chance to feel the walls of your cunt stretch to allow his cock in “just wanted your attention.” It was no secret that the Canucks weren’t doing their best, but Quinn was on edge because of it. 
Quinn frowned at your words “and you thought that this was the best way to get it?” He shook his head watching you drive your hips with even more desperation now. 
You nodded gnawing at the inside of your cheek “please Q.” You begged refusing to let yourself cum into he said you could. 
The boy felt his eyes flutter “you promise you’re gonna behave?” The question stuck to your skin like sweat. 
You were never going to listen to that, like Quinn shouldn’t have been surprised if he was hoisting your ass over his knee next week “promise.” You nodded watching Quinn  bring your face closer to his. 
His lips pursed together “open that mouth f’me love.” This was the first time that night he said something with love. 
So naturally you clung to it, your jaw went slack as your tongue rolled out. But what you didn’t expect was that Quinn would let a glob of saliva go from his lips. It landed in your tongue and he swore he saw stars watching you pull your tongue into your mouth as you swallowed what he had deposited into your mouth. 
A grunt escaped from his lips “make a mess sweet girl.” He cooed sending you a nod. That was all it took for you to drive your hips harder, feeling how the very inch of his cock felt against your clit. You were desperate to fuck him but this was all he said you deserved. 
Your eyes screwed shut when your mouth fell open “right there baby.” Quinn grunted taking over as he began to feel his own high coming fast at him. 
It was almost pornographic how your moans mixed into each other as they painted the walls. Quinn didn’t know who exactly came first as his cock shot warm sticky ropes against his stomach. Your legs shook as your cunt gushed against his dick, not letting your thrusts stop because it was unclear if it was you or him controlling your pace.
You had barely come down from your high as you kissed at his shoulder “shit!” You groaned feeling his cock thrust into your cunt. 
Quinn laughed pressing a kiss against your head “you really thought that you’d get away with all that this easy?” The captain asked, flipping you both over so he could remind you who was really in control.
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katebishopsbaefy · 2 days ago
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No Thinking
billie eilish x reader
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⋅˚₊‧ à­šà­§ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ à­šà­§ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ à­šà­§ ‧₊˚ ⋅
summary: you break a "rule" and billie deals with you.
warnings: basically pure smut, mean!billie, dumbification, teasing, overstimulation, pussy slaps, crying
words: 1163
a/n: katebishopsbaefy posting three times in one week?? unheard ofđŸ’© but i've had an ear infection all week so i've had lots of time to write!! i also have a few asks, so those'll hopefully get done soon. please keep sending them they're so much fun!! also billie's haircut looks so good?? i don't understand why we're all hating???
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Billie's been away for the past few weeks, out on her tour with her friends. Of course, you’ve loved seeing her so happy and excited to be on the road for once, but that doesn’t mean you hadn’t missed her terribly. You’d been so lonely all alone in the big house, and all of those photos and videos in your hidden folder had just been too tempting; you couldn’t resist.
You and Billie had made a half-assed agreement a while ago about not touching yourselves when the other was away. It wasn’t really meant to be a real rule; it was just something you’d seen on some porn website, and you thought it might be fun to try.
You definitely hadn’t thought it all the way through.
When she came home, just a little over two hours ago, things had gotten heated between you so quickly. Her lips were all over your mouth, your neck, your chest, anywhere she could reach. 
“God, I missed you s’much” she mumbled against your cleavage as she sucked a dark purple bruise into the soft skin. You tugged on her dark hair, and whatever response you’d been about to mutter quickly turned into a gasp when you felt her start to swirl her tongue around your nipple, and then suck sharply. She must’ve really missed you.
She’d settled you on the bed, all fluffed up with blankets and pillows. She might’ve missed you, she might’ve wanted you so bad she could’ve burst, but she’d always make sure you’re comfortable first. You'd kissed for a while until she’d gotten too impatient to wait, so she kissed her way down your body, between your breasts, across your stomach, ending with some soft sucks to your thighs. She gently pushed them open, and mumbled against them, “You been good f’me?”
You understood exactly what she meant. No, you haven’t been good for her. It was just so hard, having no one to touch you for weeks. You had to do it yourself
but all you’ve ever wanted was to be good for her, so you nodded your head, your mumbled words coming out more slurred and sloppy than hers, “Mhm. Been good, promise.”
But when she’d feel the slight resistance of you trying to keep your legs shut, you knew you’d been caught. “C’mon, babygirl
 lemme see,” she murmured in that soft, but patronizing tone that always had you stuttering and blushing. And of course, you folded.
Her hands slowly pushed your thighs apart, revealing your soaking wet heat. Her eyes had visibly darkened, her finger traced up and down your slit. It was like she’d forgotten that she was teasing you for a moment, so entranced by you, so unable to keep her hands off of you. An audibly shaky breath would pull her back to reality.
She’d slowly pushed a finger in you as her eyes met yours, and you’d immediately recognized that look on her face. She’d seen right through your lie. She’d be able to feel it.
“Aw, baby
”, she murmured in that tone, the one that made it feel like she was talking down to you (which she was). Her finger gently felt around, enough to make you clench, but she’d still been able to tell what you’d done. “Feels like you’ve been touchin’ yourself
 have you? You been stretchin’ out your needy little hole while I was gone?”
 Your head was nodding along before you even realized what was happening. It’s just the way she talks to you, like she’s poking fun. It folds you right in half.
Billie softly clicked her tongue at you, and the tears sprang into your eyes when her finger traveled to your clit. She’d gotten you right where she wanted you; so overwhelmed you can't even think. And it’d only been a few minutes of teasing.
“You know the rules. Couldn’t’ve waited a few days f’me to get back? You’re that needy?” she teased, and you whined, already slipping into that headspace she loves to put you in where all you can do is feel. 
When her finger started to trace circles into your clit, you whined again and gazed up at her with dark, tearful eyes. “I-I’m sor-”, you started, but she cut you off with a sharp slap to your cunt. One physical act of humiliation among a sea of verbal jabs. You whimpered and jolted like usual, immediately closing your mouth.
“Nuh uh, no thinkin’, baby. Too dumb f’that right now. Just needa have your pussy fixed
”, she mumbled so sweetly, so cruelly, and you shivered at the implication. She was going to make you come until you were tight again.
She rubbed your clit until you were shaking and crying, making you finish one, two, three times. Making you finish until she was satisfied.
And now, after what’s felt like hours of abuse on your clit, she’s finally decided to move on.
She pulls her finger away, and gently taps your nub with it, just to watch your legs twitch. To make sure you're sensitive enough. Her finger finds its way back down to your hole, gently pushing into you in a way that makes you tense and whimper. And she grins that stupid, cheesy, lopsided grin that makes your stomach flip. She looks so sweet, but so mean.
Her fingers wrap around yours, leading your hand down your body until she’s separating your middle and ring finger from the rest. Before you even know what's happening, she’s guiding your two fingers into your pussy, and a matching pair of her fingers are holding the back of yours to force them against that spot that makes you see stars. Of course, you whine and squirm, much too overwhelmed and overstimulated to have four fingers pressed into you. You’re too tight to be so full. But, of course, she holds you down.
“Mmm
 now you’re all nice ‘nd tight again. Feel it, babygirl?”, she teases, her voice dripping with soft cruelty as she fucks your fingers into you. When you don’t respond, she takes her thumb and grinds it against your swollen clit, hard enough to make you jolt and scream. Eyes fly open and fill with a fresh set of tears as you nod at her. Your chest rises and falls heavily with each breath, your hair is all messy from so much squirming, your red eyes brim with tears, and the sight just makes her groan. 
“Think we gotta stretch you out again, mama,” she murmurs, her lips finding their way to your cheek to kiss away your tears. It’s so sickly sweet compared to the way she’s started to pound into you. You hadn’t even realized, but she’d pulled your fingers out and replaced them with all four of her own, intent on making you scream and cry until you passed out. And after just a few more rounds, she succeeds.
Maybe you should’ve thought twice about making that dumb rule with her.
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harrywavycurly · 2 days ago
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Worth the Fight: Bad Energy
Masterlist: Here
CW: language, mentions of baby stuff, pregnancy symptoms and one moment where Ethan is mean (not to you lol)
A/N: I feel like y’all are working your way to a good place and maybe y’all can be friends soon if nothing happens that could potentially get in the way?👀✹
Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden @gmikaelson @styleswithaseaview @sofaritsalrightt @babegoals @fangirl509east @one-sweet-gubler @stylesftcher @umadirectioner @last-saturday-night @montgomery-929496 @laughterismytherapy @hisparentsgallerryy @jerseygirlinca @behindmygreyeyes @mads3502 @tpwkdpr @unfuckwitablenarry @itscoucouharry @latedirectionerera @ell0ra-br3kk3r
Summary: You and Harry have sort of an odd routine going and the two of you begin discussing baby names and rocking chairs✹
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“Morning.” Harry softly greets you when you open your apartment door, you give him a small smile as you move out of his way so he can enter your apartment allowing him to head straight for your kitchen. You let a yawn escape you as turn so you can follow him after closing the door but Harry pauses right before he enters the archway of your kitchen and turns his head to look at you over his shoulder. “Don’t forget to-”
“Lock the door.” You finish for him with a tired sigh making Harry have to bite his bottom lip to keep the soft chuckle to himself. He enters the kitchen while you turn and quickly lock the door so you can join him and take your usual spot at your little table while he busies himself with cutting fruit and the random veggies.
It’s been almost two and a half weeks since Harry came over to your house far too early in the morning just to make you some green juice and since then he’s been coming over every other morning. The only difference is he now changes what he puts in the juice depending on how you’re feeling about certain fruits or vegetables and he also secretly adds a bit of protein powder because he knows you’re in more of a snacking stage and the odds of you sitting to eat a whole meal are slim. Most of the time the two of you engage in some simple small talk while you sit at the table and watch him cut things up, not getting too deep about anything minus Harry asking questions such as how you slept and if you’re feeling okay or if your ankles are still swollen.
“Do you want pine-”
“Oh please don’t even mention that evil fruit.” You say with a groan making Harry just nod as he puts the pineapple back in your fridge and grabs a mango instead. “I don’t understand why something that tastes so good has to hate me so much.” You pout as you place your chin in the palm of your hand while your other one rests on your bump as you lean over your small kitchen table.
“I’m guessing it’s still causing you some reflux issues then?” He asks as he looks around your fridge for the bag of spinach he just brought over the other day.
“Yes but sometimes I think it’s worth it but not today.” You explain with a yawn making Harry take a half step back from the fridge so he can turn his head and look at you with a raised brow. Normally you’re a bit sleepy when he comes over for your morning juice before you head off to work or he has to go run an errand or attend a meeting but he’s never seen you this tired before and it makes him a little concerned about how well you slept last night.
“How did sleep last night?” He questions as he hears you let out a small sigh as you close your eyes and give him a shrug.
“I don’t know if I actually got any sleep last night so I guess that would mean I slept horribly? No that sounds a bit dramatic. I’d just say I slept not very well.” Your mumbled rant like explanation makes Harry chuckle as he shakes his head and closes the doors to your fridge, he places the fruits and veggies for you juice on the counter near the cutting board and then turns so he’s fully facing you.
“Well come on then.” You slowly open your eyes just as Harry takes a few steps towards you with his hand out. “You can drink your juice in bed and take a nap afterwards or something. But you need rest. It’s important.” He tries to not sound bossy or rude because he knows the two of you are in a weird place right now and he doesn’t want to do or say anything that would make you upset enough to kick him back out to just being allowed in your hallway.
“You’re just trying to get me out of the room so you can put weird stuff in my juice.” You accuse him with a playful glare as you sit up and take his hand so he can help you get up from the chair.
“You caught me.” He jokes as he wraps his hand around your smaller one before taking a step back so you have room to stand in front of him. “I’m just trying to load your juice up with things you hate.” He adds as you let go of his hand and head out of the kitchen, he stands there for a moment not sure if you want him to follow you or not since really the only rooms he’s ever been inside of in your apartment are the living room and kitchen.
“Can you grab my water for me please? I left it on the counter.” You call over your shoulder as you make your way to your bedroom. Harry doesn’t hesitate as he turns and grabs your green and pink water bottle off the counter and walks out of the kitchen into the living room.
He catches a glimpse of you just before you enter your bedroom at the end of the hallway and for some reason he feels nervous as he stands there with your water bottle in his hand. For a moment he worries that you’re only being this relaxed about him entering your bedroom because you’re exhausted and don’t really know what you’re doing or saying. But then again he knows you well enough by now to know you are usually always the one who tries to be polite and civil out of the two of you, it’s usually him that messes it up with his unkind words or actions. So he just shakes off his nerves and heads down the hallway to leads to your bedroom, he can’t help but pause at the door on his right that he knows is your spare bedroom because you told him one morning how you’re happy you splurged for the two bedroom unit when you moved in so the twins won’t have to share a room with you.
When you get to your bed you look over your shoulder and when you don’t see or hear Harry you quirk a brow as you turn and take a few steps towards your bedroom door. You poke your head out and you can’t help but smile when you see him standing in front of the twin’s room, you take a few more steps so your about halfway between where he’s standing and your bedroom.
“You can look inside if you want.” Your voice being so close to him makes him jump a bit causing the ice in your water to clink against the metal sides of your bottle.
“Oh uhm I don’t-”
“You don’t what? Want to see where your children will be sleeping and playing while they’re with me? That’s rude.”
“Well when you put it like that then okay yeah I’ll take a look.” You chuckle as you reach for your water bottle so you can take it from him, Harry chews on his bottom lip as he turns to look at you and when you just give him a reassuring nod as you take a sip of your water he places a hand on the doorknob and twists it open.
Harry feels his heart beat faster as he takes a step inside the room, he obviously knows that you’re carrying twins meaning two babies but seeing two cribs set up really seems to make it feel all the more real for him. He steps further inside the room and places a hand on one of the cribs as he looks around the room. The walls are a soft white and to no surprise you’ve hung up a little bookshelf in the corner that has a few books already on it, the cribs are also white and when he looks down he sees you picked out matching sheets for them that have little story book animals on them such as Pooh Bear and Petter Rabbit.
“It’s not done yet but sometimes when I can’t sleep or I’m restless I come in here and-”
“Did you put these together yourself?” He asks as you walk over to the dresser on the opposite side of the wall the cribs are on.
“I did yeah.” You answer as you turn and look at him, his eyes are a little wide and you know he wants to say something about how that couldn’t have been good for your back or your ankles. “It wasn’t very hard and it didn’t take long.” You explain as you place a hand over your very obvious baby bump, giving it a soothing rub as you walk over to the bookshelf.
“I haven’t uh-I haven’t gotten cribs or really anything yet.” He informs you as he runs his hand that’s not gripping the side of the crib through his hair as all of a sudden a feeling of being unprepared and overwhelmed with things he needs to get begins to hit him like a tidal wave.
“That’s fine Harry these were just on sale so I grabbed them. You have plenty of time to-”
“What if they come early and I don’t have anything still? Or what if they hate the cribs I pick and never want to sleep in them or-” A soft hand landing on top of his that’s gripping the crib makes him stop his rambling. He blinks a few times as he tries to calm his breathing down before he looks over at you and sees you giving him a small yet comforting smile.
“They’ll like whatever you pick Harry because you’re their dad and they’ll know you picked it just for them. Now I’m sure there’s going to be days and nights they don’t want to sleep but it won’t have anything to do with the cribs you get them.” You do your best to reassure him and ease him away from the edge of the small anxiety attack you know he is mere moments away from having.
“Would you uhm maybe want to help pick some things out for them?” He knows he could ask his mom or sister to help him but honestly for some reason he feels like picking the furniture for his nursery would be a good experience for the two of you to have.
“Sure oh actually your mom invited me shopping tomorrow she wants me to help her pick some crib sheets so would you want to just join us for that and we can look at cribs and stuff as well?” You feel a tinge of nervousness as you tell him about the plans you made with his mom, not sure if he is aware that she reaches out to you to see how you’re doing and even comes over for the occasional cup of tea.
“She told me about the two of you having plans tomorrow.” You let out a sigh of relief as you move your hand off of his and place it back on your bump. “Are you sure you would be okay with me joining you? I don’t want to get in the way.”
“She’s your mom Harry so of course I don’t mind you joining us.” Harry watches you closely as you speak so see if he can find any hints that you’re lying just to save yourself from hurting his feelings. But when you just stare at him for a few moments before taking another sip of your water he knows you’re being honest, you really don’t care if he comes with the two of you tomorrow and oddly enough he doesn’t know how to feel about the fact he’s going to be shopping for his twins with their mother and his mother.
“Okay I’ll uhm call her later to set up the details.” You just nod as you turn and head for the door while Harry still stands with a hand on the crib closest to it. “I’ll uhm go-go get started on your juice.” He fumbles over his words as he finally releases his grip on the wooden frame of the crib and turns around so he can see you standing in the doorway with your back towards him.
“Okay but don’t try to sneak any carrots into it this time or I’ll probably start crying.” You warn as you take a step into the hallway.
“Carrots are good for-”
“I don’t care what they are good for Harry they ruin the juice and make it a disgusting color.”
“The juice is already a gross color? It’s green.”
“Says the man with big dumb green eyes and green shorts on?” To that Harry decides to ignore your comments about his eyes and takes a moment to look down at his outfit, having forgotten he came here from the gym so he is in fact wearing green athletic shorts and a gray tank top with his neon colored running shoes.
“Just go lay down and I’ll bring you your carrot free juice okay?” You give him a smug smile as he stands at the end of your hallway near the living room with a hand on his hip while you stand in your bedroom doorway with your water bottle in one hand and the other also on your hip.
“Okay.” Harry rolls his eyes at how happy you sound all because he agreed to not add any carrots to your juice, he watches as you turn and enter your bedroom and waits a few moments till he hears the sound of your water bottle being placed on your nightstand before he turns to go to the kitchen.
“Oh and Paris is in the living room!” You shout as you fold your covers back so you can climb into bed, wanting to give Harry a heads up on the orange cat’s whereabouts since he still doesn’t seem to like Harry therefor thinking it’s okay to still use his ankles as little chew toys.
As if on queue Harry hears the all too familiar sound of a bell jingling from behind him just as he begins to cut up the mango that he decide would be a good substitute for the pineapple in your juice. He freezes the moment he feels the soft hair and slightly pointy whiskers rub against the back of his calf, Paris’s go too move before he sinks his teeth into the flesh right above Harry’s ankle bone. Harry takes a deep breath in preparation for the pain he knows he’s about to endure and sure enough maybe two seconds later he feels Paris bite down on his ankle as he starts to purr while Harry releases his breath and lets out a groan.
“Fuck sake Paris how long are we gonna be doing this mate? I’ve been here how many times now and you still don’t like me? I’m making your mom homemade green juice for Christ sake what else do you want from me?” Harry rambles on as he looks down at the orange cat who is just sitting there staring at him all innocently as if he didn’t just make a meal out of his poor ankle.
“One day you’re going to like me. I just know it.” Paris tilts his head to the side and looks up at Harry for a brief moment before he decides he’s done in the kitchen and walks off leaving Harry standing there with a half cut up mango in one hand and a knife in the other.
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Harry isn’t sure if he’s dreaming or not, because surely there’s no way you actually said what he just heard come out of your mouth.
“I’m serious.” Your simple statement answers his question as you cross your arms over your chest and stare at him with a very stern look in your eyes that he’s never seen before, granted he hasn’t been around you for very long but still he’s never seen you look so serious.
“It’s a rocking chair how can it be haunted?” He wonders as he looks at the wooden chair in question that’s currently sitting in between the two of you.
The two of you are in the middle of a antique shop looking for some things to go on the wall in your nursery and also to see if they have any baby furniture that could potentially go in the nursery at Harry’s house. While it upset you a bit it’s no surprise to Harry that his mom suddenly “wasn’t feeling well” as soon as she found out you had invited Harry to tag along on today’s shopping trip, he knows very well she’s fine at home on her couch watching her shows and researching things for her garden. And while normally Harry would be annoyed at her subtle ways of trying to interfere in his personal life he’s thankful his mom isn’t here to witness him look absolutely lost on why the mother of his children thinks used rocking chairs can be haunted and refuses to buy one.
“Not haunted but it could hold bad energy from the last person who used it.” You explain for the second time as you scrunch your nose up while looking at the chair. “What if the last person who sat in that chair was a weirdo? Or was a serial killer?” Harry rolls his eyes at your ridiculous reasoning for why the chair could have bad energy.
“Oh come on what are the odds Ted Bundy used to rock his kids to sleep in this rocking chair.” Harry playfully argues as he points to the chair while you drop your hands from your chest so you can reach over and smack Harry’s arm with an annoyed huff making him glare at you.
“Why would you say that? Now we really aren’t getting it you asshole.” You snap as you give his arm one more smack before turning around and heading further down the aisle of old vintage looking furniture. Harry lets out a sigh as he runs a hand over his face because it’s only been half an hour since the two of you started this shopping trip and at this rate he’s not sure if the two of you will still be on the decently good terms you’ve been on the past few weeks by the time it’s over.
“Are you really mad? I know you’re more emotional than normal right now but it’s just a rocking chair and it doesn’t have to go in your house it can go in mine.” He tries to reason with you as he follows behind you down the aisle, he hears you let out a scoff at he mention of you being emotional and he instantly knows that wasn’t the correct thing to say.
“It’s not just a rocking chair Harry.” You quickly turn around to face him making him take a step back so he’s out of reach making you unable to smack him just incase you get the itch to do so again. “It’s where you put your babies to sleep while singing a lullaby and where you soothe them when they are upset and-and where you sit and read to them before bed and I just don’t want one that someone has already had all those special moments in. Even if it’s not going in my house I know my babies will still be sitting in it with you and I just-”
“Okay okay we can get you a brand new chair that no one has ever sat in just-just stop crying.” Harry’s words are rushed as he takes a small step towards you so he can place his hands on your shoulders, you didn’t even realize you were crying until you finally feel a few tears roll down your cheeks. You sniffle a few times as Harry bends his knees so he can be eye level with you. “I promise you will get whatever rocking chair you want. Just please stop crying.” He’s practically begging you at this point and giving your shoulders some gentle squeezes as you wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your cardigan
“Oh sorry am I embarrassing you?” Your voice is a mixture of harsh and watery making Harry let out a sigh as he stands up and drops his hands from your shoulders. “Because news flash Harry pregnant people cry a lot okay?” He doesn’t want to start a fight with you so he just stands there and lets you take your frustration out on him because it was his poor choice of words that caused this reaction from you in the first place. “It’s not like I can control it either. I just cry all the time over the stupidest stuff.”
“I just don’t like seeing you cry.” You almost don’t hear his admission as he looks down at his feet while rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to make you upset I didn’t know you uhm had such strong feelings about rocking chairs that’s all.” He explains as he looks up at you making you let out a huff as your arms fall to your sides.
“It’s okay.” You tell him as you adjust the strap to your purse, Harry watches as you make a face of slight discomfort and he can’t even stop himself before he’s reaching over and grabbing the strap, he raises an eyebrow as his silent way of asking if this is okay and when you just let the strap of your bag fall into his hands he smiles as he takes your giant purse and puts the strap over his shoulder.
“I read somewhere that most people hyper fixate on one thing during their pregnancies and I just think mine has been the nursery. Mainly the furniture in it. So that’s why I uh had my-my little moment about the rocking chair.” You tell him as a way to help him get a better understanding on what’s going on in your mind, since you know having a breakdown in the middle of a store isn’t ideal especially for him. Mainly because anyone within a few feet of the two of you would be able to tell instantly who he is thanks to the short sleeves of his worn out Rolling Stones shirt letting his more recognizable tattoos be on display.
“Gemma’s was the car seat. She read every single safety review on hundreds of car seats and I swear she still doesn’t even like the one she uses everyday.” You smile as Harry talks about his sister, doing his best to help make you feel like he really does get it and that you being very particular about what you want in the twins nursery is totally normal.
“Oh speaking of Gemma I was thinking of Nora if one of them is a girl.” Harry feels as if his feet all of a sudden don’t know how to work as you turn around to begin heading down the aisle, tossing out a baby name as if it’s just a suggestion on what the two of you should eat for dinner and not a possible name for one of your children. “And I like Anne as a middle name and I know it’s her middle name and obviously it’s your mother’s name so I thought it would be cute?” You add having no clue Harry is still frozen in place a few paces behind you.
“Uhm-uh you’ve been thinking of-of names already?” He asks as he quickly rushes to catch up to you before you turn to head down another aisle that has framed art.
“Yeah? I’ve been thinking of names since I found out I was pregnant but I’ve just now narrowed the girl name down to that one.”
“And it’s Nora?”
“Yes I like Nora.”
“Nora is nice. I think I like it.”
“I’m glad.”
“So Nora as in Jones?”
“Uh more like Roberts.”
“And who’s that?” You stop mid step and turn to face Harry who has a very curious expression on his face as he flips through a bin of floral themed art.
“Nora Roberts is an author.” You answer making Harry just nod as a small smirk forms on his face.
“Should’ve known.” You roll your eyes as he looks over at you. “Of course you want to name our daughter after an author while I want to name her after a musician.”
“Well at least both Noras are talented.”
“You’re missing the most important part of this whole thing.”
“And that would be?”
“We just agreed on something.” The grin he gives you leaves you no choice but to smile back. “Nora Anne Styles? Or did you want them to have your last name? I’m fine with hyphenating it if you-”
“Styles is fine.” Harry feels hit with an odd swirl of emotions at your answer, knowing that you want the twins to have his last name makes him have a sense of pride but also makes him feel slightly nervous that one day they might hate having the same name as him. “I haven’t thought about boy names yet.” You tell him before you turn to look at a bin that has framed posters.
“Uhm how do you feel about Edward?”
“Edgar? Like Allen Poe?”
“Uh no I uhm said Edward not Edgar.”
“Oh sorry. Edward-Edward what?”
“James?”
“Edward James Styles.” You whisper it at first making Harry nervously rub his lips together as he listens to you repeat the name a few more times before nodding. “Okay yeah I like it.” You say with a smile as you place both hands on your bump before you turn to face him.
“Wow we are two for two.”
“Better stop before we break our streak or you even worst you make me cry.” Harry rolls his eyes as you take a step towards him while holding a hand out. He doesn’t know what you want his hand for but he turns so he’s facing you and gives it to you anyway with a quirked brow. “Can you feel that?” You ask as you place his hand on the side of your bump, he’s about to shake his head no when all of a sudden he feels like tiniest something press against his palm.
“Is-is that one of them?” You just nod as Harry stares down at his hand that’s pressed firmly against your bump. You watch his eyes go from wide and shocked to soft and glossed over so you place a hand over his and give it a small pat just as he lets out his first sniffle.
“Figured it was your turn to cry in public.” You joke as he blinks a few times trying to stop the tears from actually falling and rolling down his face.
“Thanks.” He says with a wet chuckle as you move his hand to the other side of your bump so he can feel another tiny little movement.
“I think they are stretching or something.” You explain as Harry just stares at his hand with a look of pure amazement. “They’ve been extra active today though.”
“I bet it’s because of the carrots I snuck in your juice this morning.”
The laugh you let out has Harry imagining for a moment this is what it would be like if the two of you weren’t just a few levels above being complete strangers who are having kids together and instead you were just two people happily shopping for nursery decor for their twins. It’s moments like this that he desperately wishes he could remember more about the night he met you because it’s glimpses of you like this, laughing at a stupid joke he said that have him feeling like you are so easy to be around and he’s sure that’s how he felt about you that night as well. But the harsh reality that Harry is very aware of is moments like this are rare for the two of you, he’s already made you cry today so he just tries to live in this moment that has him feeling a comforting sense of happiness as long as he can because sooner or later he knows it’s going to come to an end.
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You let out a groan as you stretch your legs on your couch letting your sock covered feet land in Ethan’s lap which makes him just roll his eyes when he looks down and sees you wiggling your toes at him. He turns to look at you and lets out a laugh when you poke your bottom lip out and continue to wiggle your toes, a combination you know he can’t resist. Ethan lets out a huff as he places his phone down on the table next to the couch so he can use both hands to gently rub your slightly swollen ankles.
“You’re so lucky I love you because I usually never touch feet for free.” He states making you laugh as you get comfortable and go back to reading one of the pregnancy books Anne gave you the last time she came over. “Oh so how was the shopping trip the other day? Didn’t see you two on the news and you never called me to bail you out of jail so that must mean it went well?” He asks with a teasing tone that makes you roll your eyes as you flip a page in your book.
“It did go well actually I got a few new books for the twin’s bookshelf.” You begin as you lower your book a bit so you can see Ethan’s face over the top of it. “We picked baby names and-”
“Excuse me?” His eyes are wide and his hands momentarily stop rubbing your ankles as he snaps his head in your direction. “You did what now?”
“We sort of agreed on two baby names. I told him the one I’ve been thinking about for a girl-”
“Nora Anne?”
“Yes and he liked it but he thought it was because of Nora Jones.”
“Well yeah you can’t expect Mr. Asshole to know who Nora Roberts is.” You glare at Ethan for a moment making him just shrug because he doesn’t get what he did wrong so you just continue on explaining the baby names.
“But then he had an idea for a boy name and it’s uhm well it’s Edward James St-”
“James? As in Ethan James your super attractive young neighbor?” He all but shouts as he stares at you with an excited grin on his face and you just nod and laugh because you knew he would react this way to finding out the middle name Harry picked unknowingly wanting to give his son just so happens to belong to the very man he can’t stand.
“Exactly.”
“Weird way to ask me to be their godfather but I accept.” He says with a shrug as he goes back to focusing on rubbing your ankles.
“Don’t get crazy Ethan no one has asked you to be anyone’s godfather.” You explain with a laugh making him let out a dramatic sigh.
“Here I am rubbing your feet and ankles and you don’t even think I’m godfather material? That’s just rude.” You playfully glare at him when he turns his head to look at you with a smile. “But really I’m glad it’s going well with him I know you’ve been through some shit with that asshole so I’m happy that he seems to be making an effort to do things that are actually nice and helpful.” You just nod as you try to focus on the page you’re reading in your book.
“Yeah it’s been-”
“I saw photos of him out with another girl last night.” You drop your book to your lap as Ethan lets out a sigh of relief, feeling ten times lighter now that he’s spilled the beans about something he wasn’t sure he was going to tell you about or not but he figures you deserve to know the whereabouts of the father of your children.
“What are you talking about?”
“I saw photos of Harry out with some chick in a god awful tacky green silk dress with yellow-”
“Ethan.”
“Right sorry.” He runs a hand through his hair as he turns his body a bit so he is facing you, but makes sure your feet are still comfortably resting in his lap. “He was out at some club with her and they left hand in hand and got into his car and the only reason I known it was his car is because I recognized the driver.”
“Is that all?” Ethan raises an eyebrow at your question because you’re handling this rather differently than he expected.
“Uh yeah-yeah that’s all.”
“That’s okay.” You say with a slow nod before you grab your book. “He’s single he can be seen with whoever he wants.” You explain as you turn to the page you were just on, ignoring the look of confusion on Ethan’s face and the way your heart feels like it just dropped to the pit of your stomach.
“It’s okay if it’s not okay you know that right? He’s the father of your babies and it’s perfectly normal to feel attached to him in a way that no one will ever understand.” You can’t look at Ethan as he speaks or you’ll lose it so he just gives your feet a little squeeze before he reaches over and grabs the book out of your hands. “Look at me.” He says as he tosses your book onto your coffee table, you slowly look from your hands that are resting on your bump over to his face and then finally you meet his stare.
“He told me he had plans with his mom last night. That’s why he couldn’t come over to help put up the curtains I got for the nursery but he said he’d do it the next time he’s here to make my juice.” Ethan lets out a sigh as he watches your eyes get glossy as you let him in on a piece of information that you weren’t going to share with him because it seemed unimportant until now.
“God this wouldn’t be happening if you would’ve went with Zayn for your baby daddy.” His voice is serious but you know he’s joking as he reaches for one of your hands.
“Zayn wasn’t an option.” You explain with a sniffle as you try to stop the tears from falling with a few blinks.
“That’s a shame because that man is-”
“Was she pretty?” You mumble as you look away from Ethan and down at his hand that’s got a firm hold of yours as it rests on your bump. You don’t know why you asked because you know it doesn’t matter but you can’t help but be curious.
“Fuck no. She was hideous.” He watches the corners of your mouth twitch as you fight off a smile. “You’re the hottest woman that man has ever been with. Hands down.”
“You’re just saying that so I won’t cry.”
“No I’m not.” He argues as he gives your hand a squeeze. “I’m saying it so you’ll make me the godfather.” He smiles at the sound of your laughter even if it’s a littler watery sounding it’s better than the sound of you bawling your eyes out, that’s one sound he is sick of hearing from you. “I love you. You’re going to be okay.” You let out a sigh as you give his hand a squeeze making him smile.
“Thank you. I love you too.” With that Ethan lets go of your hand so he can lean over and grab your book off the coffee table and hand it back to you. The two of you silently deciding that you’ve had your fill of gossip for the evening so he picks up his phone with one hand and scrolls his social media pages while his other lazily rubs at your ankles. While you try to focus on the words on the page of your book you can’t help but let your mind wonder to the reasons why Harry would lie to you and if you should even bring it up to him. But as you get comfortable on the couch and Ethan lets out a soft sigh you decide that you’ll just deal with Harry later and enjoy your time with one of your bestfriends, refusing to let the man with the big dumb green eyes ruin anymore of your evening.
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blushsturns · 1 day ago
Note
you should do the same concept as the “tied up” fic but with matt cause oh my goshh
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title: tied up (matt’s version)
warnings: this contains explicit content and portrays rough sex, but it is all consensual. dom!matt, gently tied up with ribbons, daddy kink, rough sex, unprotected p in v, just filth.
w/c: 2678
read the chris version here!
oh, you were in for a fucking treat. you loved seeing matt like this; dominant, rough, and in full control of your body. you were all his and he could do whatever he wanted with you. that’s why you were now faced down onto the bed on all fours, your arms arms behind your back with a pretty pink ribbon tied securely onto your wrists so you couldn’t touch anything. it was torture, but you fucking loved it.
your clothes had been stripped, along with his clothes, your pussy already dripping with arousal once you were thrown onto the bed, your face immediately pressing into the pillow. when he began to tie your wrists behind your back, that’s when you knew matt was going to be in full control of you and not give you a moment to recover and you were totally okay with that.
“you want this cock, don’t you ma? let me hear you say it.” his words were full of dominance, lust, desire. he positioned himself behind you on his knees, his hand running against your ass cheek, his fingers digging into the flesh causing your body to jolt backwards, a soft whimper emitting from your lips.
your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, the anticipation rolling throughout your entire body for what was coming next. you turned your head to the side to look back at him, mustering up the most pouty expression you could possibly give just to prove to him how badly you needed this. how much you wanted him, desperately. “please, baby. i need you. need you so bad.” you whined out in desperation, another whine falling from your lips as he continued to dig his fingernails into your sensitive flesh.
he shook his head at your words, a darkened chuckle emitting from his lips. he clearly disapproved of your words. you watched as he spit into his hand to lather himself up even more, although the tip of his cock was already dark pink and glistening with pre-cum. a shaky breath escaped your lips at the image of his thickened, hard cock as he began to pump himself in his hand, the pad of his thumb running along some of the oozing pre-cum that had leaked at the tip. “you can do better than that, baby. you want it that bad? tell me.”
before you could even reply, he brings his thumb up to your lips and runs it along your bottom lip, his eyes staying locked onto yours the entire time with lust filling his gaze. “be a good girl and suck.” he demanded you, his lips curving up into a sly smirk as he stared down at you.
you immediately took his thumb in between your lips and began to run your tongue along it to gather the pre-cum against it. a soft moan escaped your lips at the salty taste of him coating your tongue, your eyes staying locked onto his the entire time. this wasn’t your first time witnessing matt like this, but it always felt like the first time ever single time you got to experience it.
you rolled your tongue along his thumb before taking it into your mouth and began sucking onto it nice and slowly, your eyes never leaving his.
a soft, satisfied groan left his lips as he watched you with admiration and pride, not being able to take his eyes off you. “that’s my good girl.” he cooed, his hand moving up to run his fingers through your hair. “you like having your mouth filled, don’t you, baby? bet you like your pussy filled with my cock even more.” he let out a low growl, eventually pulling his thumb out of your mouth, resulting in a low whine from you due to the loss of contact.
“daddy, please. i need you.” you breathed out, panting heavily already as you felt your pussy throbbing, desperate to be touched, fucked, or any kind of attention that matt was willing to give you.
he smirks at you, shaking his head once again as if he’s still not satisfied with your desperate pleading. he moved his hand to your face to grip it with a strong force causing a soft gasp to emit from your lips, your eyes locking together in an intense gaze. your eyes were beginning to water due to the desperation built up inside of you, your pussy clenching around literally nothing. you needed him, badly and he knew it.
“try one more time and daddy will take care of you. promise.” he released your face with one swift movement and used the same hand to push onto your lower back to allow your face to hit the pillow once again.
you turned back to look at him, your eyes officially watering with tears and you blink them away, allowing them to spill down your cheeks. they weren’t sad tears, they were from pure desperation. your wrists were tied tightly around your back, so it’s not like you could easily slide your hand down and satisfy yourself. not like it would feel any good. matt was the only one who truly made you feel good. not even your own hand felt as nice.
“please, daddy. i need you to fill me up nice and deep. need to feel you all around me, fucking into me until i’m dumb and can’t take it anymore. please, daddy. put that cock to use and just fuck me. use me as your own personal fuck toy, please.” you begged and pleaded out of desperation, your eyes never leaving his. he flashed you a satisfied smirk, finally pleased with your desperate pleading and was finally gonna give you what you’ve been so badly needing.
on his knees behind you, he used his hand to caress your ass cheek in a smooth, slow circles before raising his hand up and immediately smacking your ass to create a pinkish colored imprint on your delicate skin, causing your body to jolt forward and a whiny moan to leave your lips. matt spread your ass cheeks to get a good look at you, to make sure you were ready for him.
he licked over his lips hungrily the more he stared at your glistening folds, slick with your arousal. his cock was visibly twitching the more you stared at it. it made your mouth water and your pussy throb immensely.
“fuck, such a beautiful fuckin’ pussy, baby. too bad i’m gonna wreck her. at least i’ll get to paint her all pretty with my cum.” his words only turned you on even more and all you could do was push your hips back against him, desperately needing him to touch you exactly where you needed him most.
“please.” you heard yourself whine out, your head tilted back to continue staring at him as you await his next move. he smirked at you as he locked his eyes with yours, his ocean blue eyes turning dark with lust and desire.
suddenly, you felt the tip of his cock running along your glistening wet folds causing you to gasp out at the sensation. your arousal immediately coated the tip of his cock as you pushed your hips back into him to try and feel more, hoping he slides his cock inside of you before you fucking explode.
“can’t fuckin’ take it anymore. need you, baby.” he said between clenched teeth, desperation filling his own voice. he placed his one hand against your lower back where your arms were tied, his other hand on his own cock as he began to slide it deep inside of you inch by inch until suddenly he was buried deep inside of you.
your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden full feeling of his entire cock surrounding your tight walls, a loud moan emitting from your lips as you keep your eyes locked onto him. his face was full of concentration at first, making sure he was all the way inside of you before his face began to morph with absolute pure pleasure. “oh..fuck, baby. that’s such a nice pussy. so fuckin’ tight f’me.”
you felt so fucking warm and tight around his thickened cock, immediately squeezing his cock as he began to find a rhythm within his thrusts as he slid in and out of you repeatedly. you couldn’t stop the moans that fell out of your mouth as you allowed him to take full control, not that you had any choice with your arms tied behind your back. he thrusted his cock in and out of you at a steady pace as you allowed your pussy to clench around him with each and every thrust.
“fuck, daddy!” you yelled out in pure ecstasy, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts only to feel him slide deeper inside of you.
he moved both of his hands to grab onto your hips to hold you in place as he thrust into you, going deeper and harder within each and every thrust . the sounds of your dripping arousal mixed with his cock now fully hitting your sweet spot caused your face to fall into the pillow and a string of now muffled moans fall from your lips.
your gummy walls clenched around his cock as he slid in and out of you as he moved one of his hands over to grab a fistful of your hair to pull your head backwards and away from the pillow and towards him causing you to gasp out softly in surprise, louder moans now falling from your lips. your back presses against his chest, your face now so close to his. your lips linger against his as he moves his hand to wrap around your neck to pull you even closer to him and giving it a gentle squeeze before crashing his lips down onto yours in a messy, passionate kiss.
you moaned against the kiss as he tightened his grip on your neck, thrusting into you relentlessly now. the sounds of your skin coming into contact with each other echoed throughout the walls mixed with the sounds of your breathy moans. he pulled away from your lips to let out a guttural groan, pushing you back down and allowing your head to hit the pillow once again. “fuck, baby. you love this don’t ya? you love when i fuck ya dumb, huh?”
all you could do was nod your head repeatedly at his words, your moans only getting louder and more frequent. your breath was starting to become labored and you felt electricity shooting throughout your veins. his cock slammed into you relentlessly, hitting your sweet spot over and over and causing your body to shake and push back into his cock to feel him slide even deeper into you.
his balls slapped against your clit, causing a louder moan to leave your lips. “daddy, daddy! i’m getting close!” you yelled out, the friction of his balls slapping against your clit causing your body to jolt at the sensation.
he groaned at the feeling of your gummy walls taking him in, swallowing every single inch as he continued to thrust deeper into you, hitting your sweet spot dead on. you so desperately wanted to use your hands to touch him or touch yourself, but you couldn’t and the sensation of your wrists being compressed from the tight ribbon against your skin. “yeah? you gonna cum all over this fuckin’ dick baby? such a little slut, aren’t you?” he grunted his words out, sweat dripping against his forehead and pooling into his hairline. he continued to thrust his cock deep into you, his own orgasm approaching as well.
matt slid out of you only to slide back into you even deeper, more rough causing you to scream out in pure ecstasy, your throat drying up and burning from the sounds you were making, but you didn’t care. this was worth it. matt’s cock was worth it. all you could do was nod your head, biting onto the fabric of the pillow as you push your hips back into his thrusts and just take it.
you felt yourself slipping over the edge, incoherent moans and sounds falling from your lips as your eyes squeeze shut, white stars dancing along your eyelids and fire coursing throughout your veins. “matt, fuck i’m cumming!” you scream out, followed by heavy, breathless pants. the feeling of his cock hitting your sweet spot dead on and his balls slapping against your clit causing you to come to your release, clenching and squeezing against his cock as you cum around him, gasping and crying out in pure pleasure as your body jolts from the intensity rolling through you.
he groans at the feeling of your pussy clenching tightly around him as you rock out your intense orgasm, your ass pushing back into him as you cry out into the pillow, your cries muffled against the fabric. “fuck, that’s my good girl. did so good for me. now you gotta take my load deep inside of you. can you do that, baby?” his words were dirty, filthy, and made you moan all over again.
you turned your head to look over at him, your face beet red and tears stained against your cheeks. you nodded your head eagerly at his words, whines falling from your lips. you looked at him through your hazy vision, the intensity inside of you from your orgasm still present. “please, daddy yes, i can take it.”
he smirked at you, using one of his hands to smack against your ass cheeks once again, causing you to yelp out in surprise, followed by a low moan. your body was shaking from the intense orgasm, your arms so desperately wanting to be set free, but matt had other plans. you can tell he was so close to his own orgasm, his cock twitching inside of you.
“that’s my girl.” he looked over at you with his smirk only widening, his head tilted onto his shoulder as he used both of his hands to grip onto your ass cheeks hard to hold himself up as he slammed into you repeatedly to chase his own orgasm. “fuck.” he grunted out, moving one of his hand up to push away strays of hair that have fallen from his face. “gonna cum inside this sweet pussy.”
you watched his face as his mouth opened, groans falling from his lips, his hips stilling as he emptied his entire load inside of you, his cock twitching in the process inside of you as your pussy continued to clench around him. your arousal mixed with his load was now buried deep inside of you and all you could do was lay there on all your knees and take it like a good girl.
he leaned forward, breathless and his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he pressed kisses against your shoulder blade. “such a good girl.” he murmured against your skin. “think it’s about time we take off the restraints, huh?”
“please.” you begged, eagerness filling your tone. he let out a soft chuckle before giving your shoulder one more small kiss and pulling away to begin untying the ribbon against your wrists. once they were untied and you were freed of them, you felt the aching sensation rising up your arms and down to your hands from being locked in the same position for so long.
“come on, baby. let’s get you cleaned up and taken care of. did so good for me.”
matt pulled out of you, causing you to whimper at the loss of contact. your body fell into his arms and he immediately wrapped them around you and helped your now sore and exhausted body off the bed to get you cleaned up and taken care of.
he was so good at aftercare; taking care of you and knowing exactly what to do to make sure you were okay. he was such the sweetest thing.
you didn’t mind being tied up at all.
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taglist:
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-nessa ჊
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isaisliterallyhim · 1 day ago
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hey can you please write about reader giving nagi a handjob while he's playing but as revenge because he's been ignoring reader for his games so reader doesn't let him cum unless he wins the round but he can't focus on the game because of the pleasure he's feeling!! hoping for a kinda subby nagi if that's alright <3
YES YES OMG ANON BBY I SEE IT AHJWJSAJ delicious plot hehe!
"i'm about to show you, baby slow down!"
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ft. nagi seishiro . ooc! nagi ? . somewhat sub! nagi heh . aged up! characters . established-relationships . fem! reader . nsfw . smut . handjobs . cockwarming in the end ? . nagi's kinda a dick rn . use of mommy ig... . unreliable narrator.. :^
wc: 0.5k
cw: this might be dub-con idk tho
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"my girlfriend's always harassing me whenever i'm tryna play a game.. what a hassle," nagi started off. his friends giggled on vc. "she's a nice person, you'll get used to it."
a few rounds of horror games, nagi was carrying hard. (heh hard like him :x) horror games were yea, a hassle. but, not a hassle to him. unlike his friends, nagi didn't really scream. shit, he was so lazy he didn't even wanna be fazed.
this round in particular though... "g-good god..." the man whined, spasming a little. "you good, nagi?" bachira asked. "is the horror finally getting to you?" your softer, smaller hands pumping at his cock :p
it started off slow, nagi didn't really notice at first. slow and steady wins the race right? but after a few more minutes of getting ignored, you fastened the pace.
you locked eyes with nagi. your lips curling into a smirk. "sei, what're your friends g'na think when they realize that when you're receiving a handjob with little to no lubrication at all?" you began. "your cock was leaking so much pre — it was like you wanted me to do this!" you continued to yap, face now no longer in a cocky demeanor but, in a pouty expression now.
"[n-name]," the grey eyed man moaned out. your expression, your hands... the stimulation was getting to him. "w-wait guys- oooh..." nagi tried to get out, his voice now strained. "nagi, you weren't even screaming are you good?" isagi asked. screaming? nah this guy was CREAMING.
"y-yep, i'm good," he stuttered out. "i jus' need a few minutes off real qui.." his voice trailed off as he muted himself. his hand released the mouse as his calloused fingers wrapped around your hand. nagi began thrusting into your hand.
his shaft was absolutely tearing up, just like the man. tears leaked from his eyes while there was a bit of semen leaking out of his tip LOL.
"[name], s-slow down.. [name], i-i.." he couldn't even get the words out as he scrunched his eye shut. "sei, yknow you dont deserve this at all.. all you've done was ignore me n shit this whole week..." you frowned. nagi knew he was coming close, hell he WAS going to come.
"i'm sorry mommy, i didn' mean t'- god! please, i'm sorry!" he apologized. the stimulation actually got to nagi as he came. his precious n delicious come leaked out as he let out the most gorgeous moan you've ever heard during the whole time you two were together.
your eyes kinda widened. nagi had this flushed, fucked out expression. he was panting like crazy. "[name], i'm so sorry.." he sobbed.
"what happened to emotions being a hassle, seishiro?" you teased. his sweatpants n boxers were to his knees LOL. nagi slid down your shorts n panties. "please let me feel your warm cunt, ma'am.. please use me f' your pleasure, pretty.." nagi mumbled. most genuine mumble omd...
"my bad guys, i'm back." nagi grunted after unmuting. nagi had a little bit of struggle seeing the PC screen with his gorgeous partner's warm n tight walls clenching against his shaft. let's just say, nagi wasn't the best player after LOL.
— ©isaisliterallyhim, 2025
tags! : @twijaxx ♡, @kyvkc
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a/n : errr... idk man i came back from training w my corps i j wrote this and threw it .. kinda late night post so uhwhhdaj sorry for the unreadabler englush i tried ok ygs i j went thru a breakup pls give me credit for trying. nyways, nagi ohf wakkk hes so hot omg.. i need that 190 cm man in me omgmgmjddkkwjd anyhow i hope ygs enjoyed hehe
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stoopidpigeonxx · 2 days ago
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Tulpar crew nsfw hcs for a user with a breeding kink :p
NGHDFJDKHJKDGHDJKFHFGHHHHH. Anon. anon I am looking you in the eyes. YOU ARE AMAZING AND ILY. Im gonna do the men for this one since y'know... Anya got lady parts :-( ANYWAYS! MINORS GO AWAY PLS!
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Curly
-oh he LOOOOOVES it. -Mostly because girlie.. he has one too. -He wants to make that belly of your plump with his baby. -Over and over and over. -But of course he never tells you that. -Until you start moaning for him to cum inside when he's balls deep.. -Fuck he is so on board. -"F-fuck, want me to make you a pretty mommy? All f'me.. my baby in this tummy.. god, I'm gonna give it to you sweetheart.." -He will fill you up with multiple loads to ensure you're getting pregnant. -Jesus, the sight of you leaking his seed.. its almost too much for him. -He might just have to keep going. <3
Jimmy
-its complicated for him. -Like sure, its hot in the moment, but actually having a kid? Hell no. -but he'll cum inside anyways. -he reeaaally likes the way you scream when he holds your legs up to hit deeper. -"Hff.. you wan' a baby? Gotta make sure I get it in the right place, doll.." -i pray for you. He'll probably fill your ass too, to balance it out. Sigh. -Pats your tummy afterwards. "Hopefully we got a lil' shit growing in there, or I didn't do it right."
Daisuke
-ohh boy. -Yall already know I headcannon him as trans, but he is in tears at the fact he cannot get you pregnant because he wants to!! he wants to so bad!! -But like also.. why do I feel like he also has a secret breeding kink.. Idk.. -for this ask, I'm gonna make him bio male. -He's super into it. Wanted to ditch condoms anyways, he doesn't like how they feel on his dick. -Remember when I said he was a whiner? -"oh fuck fuck fuck, please, make me a dad, please please please.. fuck, you're so tight, oh God, I'm gonna cum, I'm coming.." -He is a WHORE!! -goes for multiple rounds or however long he can last. -Only panics when he comes to his senses like 'oh shit I just impregnated my girlfriend.' -makes you take the morning after pill.
Swansea
-Dude, he's way past baby making age. -But he wants to satisfy his little freak, so he'll humor you. -He has breeder balls, sorry but I said it. -Super lazy with it. He knows all you want is to be creampied. So he doesn't put any theatrics into it. -"Uh huh, atta girl. You gonna look real fuckin' pretty swollen with my kid." -passes out, honk shoo, after like 4 rounds. But he got the job done! Hurrah!
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crybaby-bkg · 2 days ago
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SACRIFICES & WICKED VICES
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Izuku doesn't need you to know that he's the boss of one of the most infamous Yakuza groups. Too bad he's pretty shit at hiding it.
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Warnings: yakuza boss Izuku x civilian reader, lots of cunnilingus, vaginal fingering mentions of tattoos, non graphic mentions of violence, Izuku picks reader up twice, pet names include princess baby and love, blowjobs, and very soft and emotional sex Word Count: 6.6k Notes: as many of you know, this fic is based on a Drabble I created back in June 2023!! I can't believe it took me this long to write it, but this is for Kitten and Kitten only!!! <3 Also available on Ao3! Minors and ageless blogs DNI.
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“Excuse me!” A deep voice yells out, catching your attention as your head turns to look over your shoulder. There’s a green haired man a couple feet behind you, bent over, grabbing something from the ground that you can’t make out from around his fingers. When he stands, you’re slightly taken aback by his looks and his size, more focused on the overwhelming smattering of freckles that dot his face than what you had dropped. He’s handsome, the man, with eyes to match his hair of a deep verdant color, a scar across his nose and through his eyebrow, his smile big and kind, his frame wider than what you’d expect from a face like his. 
Finally, do you manage to pry your eyes from his own to look down at his hands. You discover that your favorite lipgloss had somehow fallen from your bag, and you briskly pad over to the man who holds it out to you. 
“Oh, thank you so much!” You bow to him as you grab the tube from his hand, your fingers grazing over his rough and scarred palms. “I would’ve been pissed to have to kick out another twenty bucks for a lipgloss.” You roll your eyes at the price, smiling at the man who gives you a kind one in return. His eyes drink you in, almost respectfully so, as he tries to gather the right thing to say. 
“With or without it, you’re very beautiful, you know.” The stranger says, his words soft as they carry over the nights howling wind. He straightens when your eyebrows raise in surprise, his freckled face becoming pinker by the minute as he laughs awkwardly to himself. 
“That was—that was creepy, I’m—”
“No,” you cut him off with a wave of your hands, unable to stop grinning from the compliment. “That wasn’t creepy at all, I promise. If it was, I would’ve maced you by now.” You shrug halfheartedly, a playful look on your face. The stranger laughs, his smile wide and genuine, makes you damn near swoon at the dimples in his cheeks. 
“And I would’ve very much deserved it.” He smiles at you, his head tilting to the side, a curl of emerald hair shadowing his eyes for a split second. This man is handsome, and the longer he looks at you like that, the weaker you can feel your knees getting. When too much time passes without either of you saying anything, he opens his mouth, thumb hooked behind him as if poised to leave. You take a step in his direction quickly, your eyebrows raised in question as you rush out your words. 
“Can I ask you out to dinner sometime?” You spit out, surprising yourself at your boldness to make the first move, nerves immediately hitting you in the gut. What if he says no? What if he’s already taken and was just being polite? 
“As a way to thank you for saving me twenty bucks?” You tack on quickly when his mouth closes and opens again, cutting him off once more. He only smiles though, shaking his head at you as he scratches at the scruff on his chin.  
“Please, you don’t have to repay me.” He tells you, but doesn’t offer up any other reason that screams for you to back off. He doesn’t walk off either, and doesn’t look like he wants to any moment now. So you bite the bullet again, and hope that you’re not embarrassing yourself too much in front of the handsome, well dressed stranger. 
“Well can I just ask you out to dinner then? Just for the fun of it?” You ask him, shoulders raised, smile strained, hopeful. The man considers you for a long moment, before his eyes wander off down the street, over your shoulder, over his own, his hands scratching incessantly at his scruff. You can feel your excitement dying down by the second, the sinking feeling of rejection hitting you right in the belly as you slowly start to deflate. You open your mouth to rescind your offer and apologize, ready to walk away with your tail tucked between your legs, when he speaks. 
“Sure.” He says with a small smile before it brightens at the surprised look on your face, chuckling under his breath. “Sure, I’d like that.” He repeats, grin matching your own as he sticks his large hand out to you. 
“My name is Izuku, by the way.” He tells you, fitting your palm in his own. You wonder how he’s gotten so many scars on the backs of them, how many freckles you could count on just his right hand, as you introduce yourself to him. You exchange numbers with Izuku, promising to text him the details when you find the perfect place to dine at. 
“I don’t always answer in the most timeliest of manners, but please don’t take that as my disinterest. I just have a pretty packed schedule.” He tells you, his face suddenly going serious as he tilts his head down until you’re forced eye to eye with him. Slightly taken aback, you pause before nodding profusely, smiling a little as you wave his worries away. 
“That’s totally fine.” You promise him, checking the time as you realize you need to be home in a few minutes (your cat gets very finicky about dinner time, and you do not want to face her wrath today). “I’ll text you!” You call over your shoulder as you start to jog down the street, smiling at this mystery man who you can’t wait to know more about. Especially those tattoos on his wrist that you got just the tiniest glimpse of when he shook your hand. 


The night of your date takes place exactly one week after running into Izuku. You don’t text him first until three days after meeting, and he replied just last night to confirm meeting today. You’ve been nervous since the moment your eyes opened this morning, trying to figure out what you’re gonna wear, how you’ll do your makeup, what time you’ll have to get off work to make it home to shower and shave (thinking very far ahead, if you’re lucky), feed your cat, catch the train—
It’s a lot. But you’re here now, dressed in something soft and flowing for the summer night, sandals adorning your feet, makeup painted pretty and delicate, your cat at home and fed, and right on time. But Izuku is nowhere to be found, as you stand outside the restaurant for a few minutes, tote bag held in front of you to ward off the attention from anybody that’s not him. After a while, do you finally go inside so that you don’t miss your reservation. 
The hostess’ eyes damn near bulge out of her head when you tell her who the reservation is for, under his name, and she escorts you to the furthest most booth in the back. Its dimly lit there, but you notice a few eyes lingering on you as you make yourself comfortable. It must be because you don’t fit in much with the others and their attires, who mainly wear suits or traditional wear, so you brush off the looks and hope that Izuku doesn’t keep you waiting too long. 
He shows up twenty minutes after your agreed time, in a rush, huffing and panting as he loosens his tie on his way over to the table with an apologetic look on his face. You stand as he finally makes his way to the table, smiling at him and his flushed cheeks. 
“My apologies,” he starts, ruffling his hair into place as he tries to look more put together. “A business meeting ran a little longer than usual, and then my driver scraped somebody’s car, and,” 
Izuku stops abruptly mid sentence when he finally, actually, looks at you for the first time that night. His eyes go round, his mouth falling just the tiniest bit, his gaze drinking in every single inch of you from head to toe. His mouth snaps shut audibly, which makes you laugh behind your palm, and he finally looks you in the eye almost shyly. 
“I must be a blind idiot to not have first noticed how beautiful you look tonight.” The compliment rolls almost smoothly off of his tongue, his voice coated in velvet. It makes your face warm as you halfheartedly fix your hair, your eyes taking in his own outfit for the night. He wears a simple black suit, but its carved to the exact shape of his body, molded onto his thick biceps and muscled thighs. He slips off his tie smoothly before tucking it into his back pocket, popping open the first few buttons of his white shirt, revealing just the tiniest slither of pale, freckled skin. 
“You also look very beautiful,” you tell him with a smile before it drops in horror at the slight cock of his eyebrow, his inching grin. “Well, not beautiful, but—but handsome? Very handsome and polished and, I don’t know.” Izuku only laughs at your babbling, and you shake your head at your motor mouth. 
“I’ll take beautiful as a compliment any day if its coming from your mouth.” He says softly, his eyes an emerald green that seem to shine a bit brighter, even in the dull light of the restaurant. You only smile at him, thanking him softly as he holds out your chair for you to sit in. 
After that, the date goes smoothly. You two sit and talk for what feels like hours, ordering course after course that Izuku ensures will be fine on his credit card. You share a bottle of sake, and the restaurant is close to empty by the time the night begins to dwindle down for the two of you. 
So far, you’ve learned that Izuku is a businessman—he doesn’t specific what business exactly, but he mentioned something about numbers and finances. He runs his own company, one that he says isn’t too successful, but you’re not sure just how true that is when he doesn’t even gawk at the bill once its laid between you on the table. He’s twenty-eight, and lives by himself, his favorite ice cream flavor is mint chocolate chip, and he loves his best friend very much, despite the fact that said best friend is very much so against that idea. 
All in all, Izuku is kind, and sweet, and seems so attentive and caring. He hangs onto your every word, and actually shows interest in the things that you talk about. He asks you on another date, this time, as he walks you to the train station, and of course, you agree. 
The next couple of weeks go by relatively smooth when it comes to Izuku. He’s gentlemanly, despite the fact that he shows up late to a majority of your dates. He always makes it up by bringing flowers and your favorite snacks, offering you more and more lavish desserts and even a pair of diamond earrings by the fourth date. 
It’s a lot, at first, getting used to being spoiled by him. But Izuku makes it so easy with his charming smile and easygoing attitude. That makes it even easier to let him spoil you in other, nonmaterial ways. 
He’s a giver, through and through. That much is obvious when you take him back to your place after the fifth date, and he picks you up as if you weigh nothing, pinning you against the door to your place. You can hear your cat scurrying away from the flurry of commotion, of flying clothes and your greedy hands. Izuku pins you with his hips, a heavy bulge that he presses against you, his mouth covering every inch of exposed skin that he can. 
“My bed,” you say in between breathless kisses, but Izuku either doesn’t hear you, or straight up ignores you, as he carries you over to your couch instead. He sets you down gently, his mouth still connected with yours, a string of saliva breaking between the two of you when he finally pulls away to look at you, and you at him. His mouth is smeared with your lipgloss, panting as his pupils have blown completely out, the bright green of his eyes swallowed whole by his desire. 
“You’re so gorgeous,” he murmurs under his breath, pressing another searing kiss to your mouth before he begins kissing and nipping his way down your throat. He kneels before you, one hand around your waist, the other creeping beneath the skirt you wore. Izuku mouths at your pulse point, feeling it jump under the ridges of his teeth, inhaling your scent as his thick fingers brush against the band of your panties. 
“Can I?” He asks softly against your skin, tongue darting out to taste the building sweat there. “Can I lick your pussy? Can I make you cum? Please,” 
You think you might’ve orgasmed already, without him even touching you. You can’t help the whimper that escapes your throat, your bottom lip bitten between your teeth as you vigorously nod your head. Izuku moans against your skin, biting softly and pulling with sharp teeth until you gasp from the pain, before soothing it over with a gentle peck of his lips. 
“Thank you,” he murmurs, kissing his way down your chest, mouthing at your nipples through your layers. He makes a promise to come back to your breasts later, his mind too busy focused on getting the taste of you forever ingrained on his tongue. Izuku pushes your skirt up until it rests on your stomach, pressing a kiss to your bellybutton, before he finally makes his way to your panty covered cunt. 
He fists the material in his grip, but instead of pulling the fabric away, he pulls it up until your lips make an obscene print against the material. Your breath catches in your throat at the slight sting, the way your panties rub against your swelling clit, but Izuku only coos at the way you wriggle under his watchful gaze. 
He kisses your lips with the same passion he did with the ones on your face. His head tilts this way and that, as he mouths at the outline, his lips pucker as he sucks your clit through the material, feeling it grow fat and thick under his tongue. He licks at you through the fabric until its soaked, until it sticks against your cunt, until the material is dark and soaked with his spit and your slick. 
You damn near cry when Izuku finally peels the material away from you, the softness of his lips encasing your own as he kisses them so sweetly, so delicately that you can’t help but roll your hips against his face. He holds you by the waist, not to keep you still, but to encourage you to use him. 
“Fuck my face,” he goads, looking at you from under his green curls, his eyes blown out with lust, his mouth dropped open as he guides your hips to roll your clit along his tongue. He pushes your cunt to his mouth, fucking your hips down as you hold eye contact, fingers grasped desperately in his hair to anchor yourself. 
Izuku watches you as you use him, as you spread your knees and open yourself up to let his tongue slide inside of your wet hole. He grips your hips tightly, lips pursing to spit on your clit before catching it on his tongue as it rolls down to messy with the slick dripping from your hole. The sight is obscene, and you feel yourself orgasming before you can even warn him. 
But Izuku doesn’t stop. You’re not even sure he knows whether or not you came, because he only bullies two fingers inside of you as he sucks your clit into his mouth. Your back arches from the couch, your cry similar to something feline, as you squeeze your eyes shut from the overstimulation. You try to push his head away, gasping for breath, but Izuku only tilts his face so that he can swallow the entirety of your puffy clit. His fingers crook inside of you, stroking sensitive walls that clench tightly around his thick digits. 
“I can’t!” You whine, despite the fact that you fuck your hips down on his hand and his hot mouth until you’re breathless. 
“Please, one more. You can take it.” Izuku moans against you, flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue before spitting on it once more, making your entire lower body twitch. You dig your fingers into his hair, eyes clenched shut as you plant one foot on the couch, the other against his shoulder. Izuku only holds it tenderly against him, as if his other hand isn’t pressing against that weak spot inside of you that makes you see stars. 
You cum again with a hoarse cry, your hips jerking from the intensity, tears alighting your eyes as you squeeze your eyes shut. Finally, does Izuku seem to pull back from you, licking the slick drooling from your hole with sweet little laps, massaging your lips gently with the pads of his fingers. You can hear him lick your essence from his fingers, too fucked out to even be able to watch, but your hole clenches at the sound of it, nonetheless. 
“Hope I didn’t push you too much,” Izuku mutters after a few moments of quiet, your arm slung over your eyes as you try to catch your breath. He moves your arm gently, his big verdant eyes blinking up at you, unsure if he did went a little too far during his first time with you. But you smile at him, still slightly breathless, before pulling him to your mouth. 
You kiss him, your tongue slithering against his own, lapping at the taste of yourself. You pull gently at his roots until he moans, wrapping your arms around his neck until he falls against you, head tilted to the side as he brushes his tongue over the smoothness of your teeth, your gums. You start to sneak a hand down his front to return the favor, but Izuku quickly catches your wrist, bringing it to his mouth as he kisses the pads of each and every one of your fingertips. 
“It’s okay,” he murmurs against your skin, placing his cheek in the palm of your hand as he kisses the skin there again and again. You can’t help but frown though, rubbing his nape and the tops of his strong shoulders with your free hand. 
“Really? Are you sure?” You ask, not used to men turning down you putting your hands or mouth on them whatsoever. It’s strange, the way he turns away from you to hide his erection while still planting kisses on whatever exposed skin he can reach. He mouths at the softness of your belly, humming against the skin there when you scratch at his scalp soothingly. 
“I’m sure.” He says softly, turning to face you as he smiles reassuringly, but you’re still not buying it. A handsome businessman as himself, surely pent up from all the late night shifts and difficult clients—and he doesn’t want you to touch him back? 
“You know, I don’t mind at all.” You tell him, raking in his entire form, how gorgeous he looks on his knees before you, his mouth still wet with your cum. “Actually, I’d love to return the favor.” You whisper, cupping his cheek to pull him to you, hands reaching down to undo the buttons on his shirt, but he stops you once more. You frown. 
“I’m more of a giver than a receiver, in all honesty.” Izuku says, the tops of his cheeks hinting red beneath his freckles as he blinks up at you. A small piece of you, a tiny slither, doesn’t really believe him, but you don’t argue with him anymore. Just let him kiss you quiet, his fingers slipping inside you once more as he instantly finds that spot inside that makes you see stars. He massages it, thumb pressed to your clit as he slowly works you to another orgasm as you cry against his mouth, creaming on his fingers. 
Most of your encounters, after that, are pretty similar. Izuku still takes you on dates, but he’s getting better about being late. He brings you more and more gifts, pays for the meal, has his driver bring you both back to your place, and then he’s in between your legs for what feels like hours. He asks you to be his girlfriend after a few months of seeing each other, and you think the one sided pleasure will end there, but if anything, it gets even worse. 
Izuku buys you toys so that he can play with you, if he gets tired of using his mouth or his fingers. But he still never lets you touch him. You’ve only ever seen his cock in passing, as he jerks himself off while he touches you, or cums in his pants after having you squirt all over his face. You understand that he likes to give, but isn’t it a little strange to never want to receive? To never even want to be seen naked in front of your girlfriend? 
Was he insecure about his body? That didn’t make sense. He was jacked and muscular as hell, from what you could tell touching him through his clothing. You caught a few glances of tattoos that he had when you first met, a few more times in passing. Was he afraid that you wouldn’t like them, that you would find them unattractive? You know how Japan is when it comes to marking your body with ink, but it would never be enough to phase you to never want to see your boyfriends glorious body naked. 
Every time you tried to bring it up, Izuku came up with some excuse as to why he couldn’t get naked in front of you. He’d fuck you fully clothed, which was actually kind of hot, but it still wasn’t enough for you. To have him guiding you up and down on his cock, to messy his expensively tailored pants with your slick as you scratch up his button down shirts that you were begging to rip open. 
You figured he maybe had a really bad scar he wasn’t too proud of, or maybe an embarrassing tattoo he got when he was young. Either way, you’re determined to let your boyfriend know that its okay for him to be open and vulnerable with you as you are with him. 
Izuku likes to be on a schedule, you’ve learned about him, in these past couple of months. So you know that he must be showering the day off at the moment, and you take that moment to FaceTime him. A little manipulative, knowing that he’ll always answer the phone for you? Maybe. But it’s been months since you started dating, a year since you met, and you still haven’t seen anything past his wrists and collarbones! 
Izuku answers on the fourth ring, his eyes wide as he holds the phone up so only his chin and above are seen. He looks shifty eyed, unsure, his thick eyebrows screwed down as he forces a little smile in your direction. 
“Hey, princess. What are you doing calling me so late?” He asks, eyes darting around as he tries to maintain the phone above chin level. He does a poor job at it though, with the mirror at his back that exposed a colorful shoulder blade covered in ink. You don’t say anything though, afraid that you’ll spook him. 
“I just wanted to see you.” You tell him softly, angling the phone in a way that shows off your prettiness, knowing how weak it’ll make him. It does just that; Izuku softens his eyebrows, his smile melting into one that’s more genuine, his arm lowering ever so slightly. Your eyes trace the ink on his back, big and expansive, green and blue scales that curve all the way down to his ass. You’ve never wanted to bite something so bad. 
“Well, I just got out of the shower, so,” he trails off, his grin a little lopsided as you pout your lip at him. 
“Can you come over, actually?” You ask him, ready to get everything over it, to have it all spelled out in front of you. The hiding and the sneakiness bothers you more than the scars and the bruises on his knuckles, the little specks of blood that he forgets to clean off of his collar. Izuku’s smile dims just the slightest bit at the change of your tone, the phone lowering even more for you to see that the tattoo covers the entirety of his ass. Fuckin’ hot! 
“Everything okay, baby?” Izuku asks, toweling off his hair with his free hand, his curls still damp and limp as they straggle over the roundness of his eyes. 
“Yeah, just what I need to talk to you about should be in person.” You say softly, resting your head in your arms as you turn the camera to face the ceiling more, growing tired of holding your phone up. Izuku stops drying off his hair, his mouth setting in a thin line as his voice lowers, 
“Are you breaking up with me?” He asks quietly. You only snort though and shake your head at him, at how the worry bleeds on his face, how he doesn’t instantly go murderous at the thought of you wanting to leave him. If anything, he looks more like a kicked puppy. How could he could be the leader of such an organization is definitely beyond you. 
“No,” you chuckle. “Not at all. Just come over so we can talk.” 
“Okay,” Izuku says hesitantly, his movements a lot slower this time. He tells you he’ll be at your house in thirty, but its more like fifteen with how he speeds down the empty roads so late at night. 
Izuku is there in record time, knocking incessantly at your door, his anxiety levels on high. He hasn’t been this nervous since his first kill, and something about the idea of you needing to see him in person, unplanned, at the drop of a hat, makes his stomach twist more than he cares to admit. You make him wait, just to be an asshole, for a minute longer than necessary, before you open the door to him. 
Izuku stands there, dressed more haphazardly than you have ever seen him. Usually polished and poised in his suits and expensive clothing, he instead stands in an old long sleeve tee shirt that says “t-shirt” and a pair of baggy sweatpants, worn running shoes adorning his feet. 
“Hi, my love,” you greet him with a smile, pulling him inside your place with a grip on the front of his shirt. Izuku stumbles in, never being so unsure on his feet in years, it makes him feel like he’s a teenager again. You crush your lips to his own, carding a hand through his still damp hair as you press up on your tippy toes to kiss him. He melts into the kiss, forgetting about the anxiety fluttering in his stomach, his eyes still dazed when you pull back and look at him with such a soft smile, he wondered why he was ever nervous in the first place. 
“Hey, princess.” He smiles, the soft sight dropping the moment you open your mouth. 
“I know that you’re a yakuza member, and I think its fine time to admit it, now.” You say matter of factly, your smile still there, but tight, your eyes slightly narrowed in his direction. Izuku pauses. His entire body goes stiff, everything around him going dark as he tries to process your words. After a solid minute of silence, he opens and closes his mouth once, twice, before swallowing, finally spitting his words out. 
“What? How did you
?” He trails off, finally remembering to close the door behind him as he takes a single step toward you, before stopping himself. He doesn’t want to get too close in case he’ll spook you, in case you’ve somehow set him up, in case he has to flee in seconds. It hurts to think that you’d ever betray him, but Izuku has been burned too many times. You look at him so softly though, your smile crooked as you slowly step back into your living space, inviting him in to get comfortable, like he’s always done. 
“Took me a while, but I figured it out.” You shrug, perking up when you hear the kettle going off. You patter into the kitchen on quick feet, fixing Izuku his favorite flavor of tea, as he still stands hesitantly by the door. You frown at him, pushing the mug he’s left over your house into his thick hands, before guiding him to sit on the couch. He goes along with you, although he looks more like a ghost haunting your place than he does your boyfriend at the moment. 
“The business ventures, only going out to ‘safe’ restaurants, the bruises on your knuckles, and, oh, how could I forget the big as fuck tattoo on your back?” You cock your head to him teasingly, a small smile gracing your face at the look of horror that passes over his own. 
“When did you—”
“Doesn’t matter.” You shrug, guiding him to bring the mug to his lips, his movements stiff and jerky. “When were you planning on telling me this, Izuku?” You ask him, suddenly serious, your smile falling ever so slightly as you brush a curl away from his face. 
“When you inevitably got into a shootout and came to my house for me to patch you up? When some opposing yakuza member kidnapped me because he’s holding some grudge against you?” You try to laugh it off, but it comes out as strained, the gravity of the situation finally settling on your shoulders. You love him, you really do, and you understand why he didn’t tell you in the beginning. But did he not trust you enough, even now? What would have been the catalyst for him to finally be open and honest with you? When it was bordering on too late? 
“I’m sorry.” Izuku says softly, setting the mug down as he reaches forward to grab your hands in his own. He physically relaxes when you don’t flinch away from him, despite the fact that you have to know what kind of carnage he’s created with his bare hands. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask him softly, letting him pull you into his chest as he exhales deeply. He goes quiet for a few moments, as he tucks you under his chin, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head, wrapping his arms tight around your flank. 
“Because I love you, and I didn’t want to scare you away.” Izuku admits quietly against your head. “I know its selfish, but you’re not like anybody I’ve ever met before, and I didn’t want our time together to ever end. I’m sorry its had to come to this.”
“To what?” You ask, pulling away from him so you can look him in the eye quizzically. “Who said we were over?” 
“Huh?” Izuku asks after a few seconds of silence, his voice beamingly loud as he lets your words sink in. You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you, pulling him into you so now its your turn to hold his face against your chest, your chin resting on the top of his head. 
“I’m not breaking up with you, Izuku, I already told you that. I’m just pissed that I had to put the pieces together myself. I keep you around to think for me for a reason.” You tease, pulling his face up to watch everything slowly sink in. And to think he was in charge of one of the most dangerous ‘businesses’ in all of Japan, with a face that cute and eyes that round. You can’t help the kiss that you press to the bridge of his nose. 
“You’re not breaking up with me?” Izuku repeats slowly, sitting up in your arms so that you’re eye level with him, gripping you gently by the shoulders. You frown at him, knocking your forehead softly against his own. 
“Baby, I just said that.” You mutter, laughing when he suddenly pulls you into a tight embrace, pressing his mouth to yours firmly. 
“Gods, I love you.” Izuku says against your lips, pecking you again and again until he’s kissing your teeth from how hard you laugh. “How can I make it up to you?” He asks, rubbing up and down your shoulders, watching how your face melts from one of happiness to something darker, full of lust and excitement for your new reality of open honesty with him. 
“By finally letting me see you.” You whisper, leaning in to rub your nose against his, feel his shuddering breath as he inhales the intoxicating scent of you. 
“Whatever you want. I’ll give you the world, if you asked for it.” He mumbles softly, pulling you against him until you rest in his lap before rising, already taking you to the bedroom. You press a kiss against his throat, rubbing yourself against the hardness of his stomach, unable to swallow down the moan that crawls up. 
“All I’m asking for is for you to fuck me the way I know you’ve been wanting it since you met me.” You whisper sultrily, tugging at the hair on his nape, grinning against his throat at the groan that escapes him. 
“Fuck yes,” he whispers softly before devouring you before you could even blink. 
You’re on your bed in seconds, your clothes ripped from your skin in a familiar dance that you no longer question when Izuku begins to shed his own. You watch from the center of your bed as he stands before you, his eyes glued to your own gaze as he pulls his shirt from over his head with precise movement. You feel your mouth water at the sight of his exposed stomach, the ink that curls along his breastbone, red and white and intricate. 
He slides his sweats down thick thighs, even more ink decorating the skin, his cock thick and heavy where it bobs when released from its confines. He’s a work of art; gorgeously tanned skin, freckles covering more parts of him than you even thought possible, his muscles there but bulging deliciously when he flexes absentmindedly under your watchful and intent gaze. He’s gorgeous, more so than you could have ever imagined, and it makes your mouth water even more that he’s finally, finally, bared himself to you. 
“Let me touch you,” you whisper, inviting him over with a crook of your finger. Izuku obeys, crawling on the bed toward you until he’s laid against your pillows, his body elongated and exposed like a statue made of some greater god. You can only salivate at the sight of him, press a kiss to his mouth until you work your way down, down, down with nips and licks, your teeth sharp and stinging, your tongue soothing and gentle. Izuku breathes a shaky moan of your name when you finally make your way to his thick cock, heavy and red at the tip, leaking precum with every breath you pass against it. 
You hold his thickness in your palm, kissing the leaking head with soft lips, making him groan underneath his breath. He can only watch you, carding a hand through your hair until he cups the base of your skull, guiding his cock ever so gently into your mouth. You welcome him in, lips pursed to suck the precum from his leaking tip, mouth suckled tight over the thickness of him. He fills your mouth perfectly, your head slowly bobbing down until his tip tickles the back of your throat. 
You moan at his taste, one hand holding his base as you work your spit where your mouth can’t reach, the other hand reaching up to cradle his heavy balls in your palm. Izuku’s hips jerk at that with a groan, his head tilting back, although he refuses to take his eyes off of you. The way your naked body fits so seamlessly against his inked one, how the fatness of his cock creates a lewd bulge against your cheek, how your eyes water when you try to swallow him even deeper. 
You pop off of his cock with a breath, jerking him using the mixture of your saliva and his precum, ducking your head underneath his heavy length to lap at his sac. Izuku’s stomach caves in from his gasp, his eyes rolling momentarily into his head as he jerks his hips, before he finds it in himself to meet your gaze again. You smile around the fullness of one of his balls in your mouth, the other hand jerking his cock in slow, languid motions. 
“Wanna cum inside you,” Izuku says in a gasp, tugging at your head to pull you off of him. You come off with a wet pop, crawling up his body with his firm yet gently grip on your skull, smiling when he drops open his mouth when you meet him. You fill his mouth with your spit and his precum, a moan bubbling up in his throat as he presses you against him, kissing you with such fervor that you feel like you’re being consumed whole. Izuku grinds his cock against the bottom half of your stomach, pulling you tight against him as he rolls the both of you to your sides. 
Without breaking away from your kiss, Izuku hikes your leg over his hip until he’s slotted perfectly between you, gliding his cock between your soft lips. He presses in, pushing and pushing as you gasp and whine into his mouth, arms wrapped tight around his shoulders as he holds you firm against him, your bodies slotted perfectly together. With a heavy thrust does Izuku finally bury the fullness of his cock inside of you, his pubes brushing against your clit, his thick hand resting on your lower back to keep you pressed against him. 
“You never said you loved me back earlier,” he says softly against your mouth, lazily kissing you as you trace the scars on his back and shoulders. You grin against him, rolling your hips ever so slightly, gasping when Izuku can’t help the cant of his hips to press his cock even deeper inside of your slick hole. 
“I love you,” you whisper, tongue lolling against his own as Izuku slowly starts to rock his hips against you, filling you up over and over again until the bed creaks minutely. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” 
Izuku only rubs your clit with thick fingers as you repeat yourself, tucking your face into his throat as you tremble all over, reaching your climax before you can even process it. Izuku only keeps the same pace, never letting you fully come down from your high as he holds you so tight to him, that your skin melds with his own, that your sins become his, that your flesh is one. And when he cums inside of you with a shaky gasp, your walls fluttering around him from another orgasm, does he finally release the breath he’s been holding since the moment he realized he loved you. Which, frankly, was the moment he first laid eyes on you. 
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thank you all for reading! and a special thanks to @katsukikitten for supporting me so much over these past few years. likes/comments/reblogs are so greatly appreciated! <3
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semisasseater · 22 hours ago
Text
YOU THE TYPA GIRL TO REALLY HEAL MY SCAR ─ se-mi
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pairing : gf!se-mi x fem!reader Tw : Angst, trauma, PTSD, implied violence, mentions of death, emotional distress, survivor’s guilt, lying/deception, but ends with comfort/fluff. Summary : se-mi was filled with guilt. she felt like she should’ve died, until she remembered why she kept going and came back to the reason she kept going. wc : 2.2k (i think.) authors note : guys don’t attack me but i don’t read bad thinking diary.. so uh yeah but the photos look cute and aesthetically so! also guys it’s mine and my wife gabby 9 year anniversary of being together!! we’re getting married soon trust!! she’s mine yall sorry not sorry heh.. Not proofread
if you enjoyed likes or reblogs would be amazing! feedback is appreciated also requests are open!!
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The sound of a metal car door creaking open was deafening in the silence. The cold night air hit se-mi’s skin as she went outside for the first time in weeks. The streetlights flickered overhead, bathing the pavement in a dim glow, but nothing felt real. It was too quiet. Too normal.
Her hands clenched tightly around the credit card she carried after she got untied and took it out her mouth—stuffed full of blood money. Money that had come at the cost of hundreds of lives. Her legs trembled beneath her as she took cautious steps forward, half-expecting another game to start, another command to follow.
But it was over.
She had won.
The images of the games flashed through her mind. The red light, green light massacre. The six-legged race where she had barely escaped elimination. Mingle, where players had to form groups in rooms or be shot on the spot in rooms or not in a room. And Lights Out—the nightmarish free-for-all where trust had meant nothing, where she had to kill or be killed.
Her breath hitched as she remembered the blood on her hands, the screams, the desperation.
She should be dead.
And yet, here she was.
Shakily, se-mi reached for her phone, which had been returned to her at the floor. The screen was cracked, but it still lit up. As soon as it did, her heart clenched.
1,273 unread messages. 342 missed calls.
Every single one from her.
Her girlfriend.
Her Y/N.
Her thumb hovered over the messages, dread pooling in her stomach as she scrolled through them.
y/n: se-mi? Where are you?
y/n: baby please call me, I’m scared.
y/n: It’s been two days. Please don’t do this to me.
y/n: I don’t care what happened, I just need to know you’re okay.
y/n: It’s been WEEKS. Did you leave me? Please tell me you didn’t just disappear on purpose.
y/n: I love you. Please, just come back to me.
The texts grew longer, more desperate, more broken. The last one had been sent just hours ago.
y/n: I don’t think I can sleep tonight. I miss you so much. I just want you to be safe.
A sharp pain twisted in se-mi’s chest. She had been so focused on surviving that she hadn’t thought about what her disappearance had done to Y/N.
She had to fix this.
Without hesitation, she flagged down a taxi and gave the address to their shared apartment.
She was going home.
.
The apartment.
She hesitated before unlocking the door, remembering the guilt, the fear, the heartbreak in those texts.
Then, taking a deep breath, she stepped inside.
Her gaze landed on the couch immediately.
There she was.
Y/N was curled up under a blanket, her face turned toward the door as if she had fallen asleep waiting for se-mi to come home. Even in the dim light, se-mi could see her tear-streaked cheeks, her puffy eyes.
She had cried herself to sleep.
Se-mi’s throat tightened as she knelt beside her, hesitating before reaching out. With a gentle touch, she brushed a strand of hair from Y/N’s face before softly shaking her shoulder.
“Baby
 wake up.”
A sleepy murmur escaped Y/N’s lips as she stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, groggy with sleep, before focusing on se-mi’s face.
At first, there was confusion.
Then—shock.
And then, tears.
“S-se-mi
?” Y/N’s voice cracked, disbelief evident in her tone.
Se-mi swallowed the lump in her throat and forced a small smile. “Hi baby
”
Before she could say anything else, Y/N threw herself into se-mi’s arms, clutching her tightly. “Oh my god—oh my god—I thought you were—” Her words broke off into sobs as she held onto se-mi as if she’d disappear again. “I thought you were dead. I thought you left me. I thought—”
“I know” se-mi whispered, guilt settling deep into her bones. “I know, love, I’m so sorry
”
She couldn’t tell the truth.
Couldn’t tell Y/N about the blood, the bodies, the screams that still echoed in her head.
So she lied.
“It was
 a work trip” she said quickly. “I had to go last minute. They took my phone, all my things. I couldn’t call you, couldn’t text you. I—I should have told you before I left, but I didn’t have time.”
Y/N pulled back, eyes searching se-mi’s face, still wet with tears. “You were gone for three weeks.”
“I know” se-mi said, forcing herself to hold Y/N’s gaze. “And I hate myself for it. But I promise you—I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”
Y/N let out a shaky breath before nodding, her hands trembling as they cupped se-mi’s cheeks. “I don’t care where you were. I don’t care about anything else. I just
 I’m just so glad you’re back.”
Se-mi’s heart ached as she leaned in, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to Y/N’s lips. The warmth, the love, the relief—it was all there. Y/N kissed her back just as desperately, as if trying to make up for all the lost time.
The next morning, se-mi made good on her promise.
They went to the mall, shopping for everything Y/N wanted. Plushies, makeup, skincare—anything that could bring a smile to her face. Se-mi even surprised her with the Pink Chakra Heart Ring from Pandora, something Y/N had always wanted.
“Oh my god—Se-mi I love you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Y/N squealed, hugging her tightly and peppering kisses all over her face.
Se-mi chuckled, squeezing her close. “Of course baby anything for you.”
But even as they laughed and enjoyed their day together, se-mi couldn’t ignore the gnawing weight in her chest.
The nightmares didn’t stop.
The screams still echoed in her head.
But every time she jolted awake, sweating, shaking, Y/N was there—holding her, whispering soft reassurances, grounding her back to reality.
“I’m here baby you’re safe.”
And for the first time since she left that place, se-mi believed it.
She had survived.
And that’s because, she had something worth living for.
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@semisasseater
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themareverine · 2 days ago
Note
HI!! its the old man logan asker and im in love wt the way you wrote my previous ask, you are a godsent 🙏 i was wondering if its okay wt you, to write more of him.. i dont know sitting on old man logans lap and dressing up nice and pretty for him??!?!!?? please take it how you will, the way you write him makes me want to stupidly giggle
of course! here we go, i could write this man forever.
A King & His Castle | I Dream of You | oldman!Logan x fem!wife!reader drabble
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series summary: Breadwinner. Bring-Home-the-Bacon. King of the Castle. He's heard it all before, but it's never been true of the Wolverine. Until her. Coming home to her is the only thing to live for, the only thing keeping the heart behind his ribs spinning.
warnings: drabble series, day-in-the-life, dad!Logan, mutantwife!reader, angst, domesticity, pregnancy, babies, children, Logan is a boy dad because I said so, reader has curls, slight ⚠, breastfeeding, lactation, breastfeeding kink
a/n: i'm dedicating this to @bpmiranda, this is the spiciest it gets, honeychild!
navigation | series masterlist | previous let me know if you want added to my tags! â™ĄïŒ
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There’s very little like a south-of-the-border sunset. 
It’s that something that rises up from the earth to meet the air, a cool that seems, almost, to simmer in the soil until that perfect time of day—the time between the sun sinking low and starlight. It sits in the atmosphere like a dance, spinning and twirling, lifting skirts—hopeful. Innocent. Skips along the bluebonnets and desert roses scattered among the mesa, reverent, almost like the pretty prayers of a virginal bride, awaiting consummation with night. 
Perhaps his favorite fucking time of the day is this hour, after dinner. When the sky begins to transition in a way that kills the heat of the day, buries business hours. Rarely over the week can he toss his phone aside and forget the block of microchips and Big Brother that tethers him here, to his castle—to his bride, his home. Flesh and blood that cries out in the night and, five days a week, searches for him.
Fifty hours a fucking week he lives here, at home, through the screen of a cellular phone — something unthinkable even forty years behind him. 
When he isn’t ignoring passengers in that fucking Chrysler and trying to act his perceived age and be all professional and shit, he’s dreaming about the right here—the small creek that’s a mile to the east. The cactus and bluebonnets that paint the desert mesa like a Monet, the open sky that shows him God every time he rises with the day’s colors.
Away more often than not, by the time the headlights of the limo splash along the perimeter fence, swathing this small slice of his in milky light, he’s borderline forgotten what the four walls and a floor looks like. How it lathes open his heart like a knife in hot butter. 
By the time he takes a few deep breaths of the place, adamantium in his chest kicking out more poison that, somehow, hasn’t put him six feet under yet, he remembers. He longs, curses the days he’s away and silently vows to, in some way, never leave his fortress of solitude, this sanitarium of bliss. It’s bad enough working for the man and punching Uncle Sam’s fucking clock, logging driving hours under a license tethering him to the government like a honing beacon—worse yet, abandoning the so there of her arm draped along his chest as she crashes hard in bed, snoring slightly.
Prying himself away from warmth of fresh sheets, thick blankets that drive back the world. Slipping into the rig with the scent of her, the only true thing in his life the last four decades, clinging to his clothes like the lover he’ll never let her not be. 
Kings were never meant to leave their castles, and he’s away too damn often. 
Thick cigar smoke kicks into his chest as he takes a pull of the thing, sweet tobacco calming the hot edge of his blood as Logan drops his weight, fully, into a patio chair. Kisses of sunlight still linger in the cement apron beneath his feet, and the Wolverine stretches his toes fully against the concrete’s texture, relishing in the bite of it.
His chest all but collapses off a weighted sigh, tension from the cab of that fucking Chrysler bleeding off him like a shed skin, lost in the dwindling light of the day that quickly speeds towards evening—and he can’t not notice the sky. 
She’s beautiful, the canopies of God. Looking down on him with a wink, a teasing that he anticipates with great relief to be finally home.
Tossing his lighter on the patio table beside him, which is rusting and cockeyed from a missing foot, he massages the bridge of his nose. Entirely ignores the rustling movement spilling through the propped-open door leading inside to the makeshift kitchen their thrown-together living conditions allows. He doesn’t have to glance over his shoulder to know it’s her, milling about the kitchen—putting things away, tidying spaces that activities of the day with children doesn’t allow. 
Even from here, her bare feet on the oil-stained, once-refinery floors are unmissable—he’d been listening to her for timeframes he can’t recall, but every time, most of the time, feels like a new discovery. Rattle of pans and the soft hum of her voice carrying a tune floods him with a sense of domestic pride Logan has never felt—like a lion, basking in the sun of his lands, of his pride.
His. 
Excitement jumps through his frame when her movements near the door. Her energy in the atmosphere cracks like a whip, bites at him in a way that ravines down his spine with molten, balmy good. Heat bottoms him out in the base of his gut, like it always does whenever he can smell her — and he can, body be damned, smell her.
Fresh out of the shower, Logan is a breath away from demanding her come, forcing her compliance in him licking the dew from her skin, feasting on the beads of water that fall from the ends of her curls. Practically able to taste eucalyptus and whatever else shit she works into her skin overrides the tobacco smoke hanging out under his nose, renders him a little dumb in his cock. 
Taken aback to the first time Logan committed the scent of her to memory, the first time it became a core part of him, his jaw tenses a little with the effort not to groan.
It had been raining, the scent of earth so strongly that for seconds, it was all he could taste and think — until she’d brushed up against him, wet hair and saturated clothes accentuating every cut and line of her like an Aphrodite. He’d been so gobsmacked with her coming up under the arm he offered around her shoulders, Logan had transfigured. He’d never been the same.
A core part of his biology changed, smelling the sharp mints of her shampoo, the musk of rain and sweat on her skin—it’s all he wanted. He changed, she changed him—and moments like this, remembering, unlock parts of him Charles Xavier, Weapon X, the world had tried to chain like a creature.
Every damn time. 
Takes reasonable amounts of willpower to keep his dick from twitching between his legs, but that’s never new. Skeptics waxed not-so poetic about honeymoon phases, sex—all shot out of a marriage union after the first five years.
Laughable fucking insanity.
Whoever they were, well—they were fucking insane. They’d been together four decades — he was 200 years old. She was pushing 70 but regen lied about it – she hadn’t stopped looking like the day he’d met her, young and stupid and pretty, and parts of him suspect she never will reach the same haggard and graveside appearance he does.
Hopes not, anyway — a twisted, sick part of him liked people watching them, pointing questionable fingers.
What the hell is a pretty thing like that doing with an old fuck like him? 
It unlocked primal, animalistic tendencies he’d only ever feared, but kept him satiated.  Their sex life was fantastic. Damn near pornographic.
You’re a sick fuck, Logan. 
Familiar honey-thick heat drips from his core, down to his cock. Lazy fingers brush at the buckle of his belt, toying with the idea of jacking off to imaginations, to fantasies — to live they’ve lived, love already signed and sealed. Logan doesn’t bother, there’s a full world of the unexplored to discover with her underneath him, chanting out his name—he need only ask.
She never denied. 
“You want a beer?”
Her voice snaps him from his consideration of his feet, propped up on the edge of the patio table. Of course he wants booze, she knows that — but finds the need, the will to ask anyway.
Before he can properly respond, a chilled bottle taps his shoulder, cool glass managing to cut through the layers of suit jacket and shirt as it dangles between her near-boneless, lithe fingers.
“Here, enjoy,” from behind his shoulder she dips low, angles her head to kiss his cheek sweetly. “I’ll be right back, gonna check on little man.” 
It’s the sweetest sound in the world, truly.
And if mention of his son doesn’t ever manage to stop making his chest swell with pride, his bones ache, it will be too soon — it’s never really anything he’d ever envisioned for his life, fatherhood.
Two centuries alive did things to a man. A good woman, religion — the first cry of his son ripping apart the air around their room had devastated him. Ripped away the old shell of a man and stitched together a new man of dust and heart in a way Weapon X could never explain.
The day-to-day of her growing with his seed, glowing with innocent, new life in her womb had been transformative—unlike anything he’d ever experienced. 
Religion didn’t even properly describe it—poetry, song, story. Nothing compared, he was sure. Logan, for one of the maybe-handfuls of time in his existence this side of the grave, had cried the day he’d held his child—his son.
He could weep again, replaying the memory of her nuzzling his baby against her breast, drawing him to the place beside her, “Get over here, Logan—be here with us,” it still visits him in the night, when he dreams. In the quiet of a mute limousine cabin area, when the night is still. 
A perfect cocktail of them together, of mutation and humanity not yet touched by the outside world—their innocence, born again. Breathing. 
His son. His own son. 
Logan kept the picture of her nursing for the first time, post-delivery sweat and gall, as the background of that fucking cell phone, and he wouldn’t deny that he looked at it often. Thought about knocking her up again, just to have another — to have a series of photos that never outgrew that post-delivery quiet, the reverence of that moment.
They hadn’t talked about another kid, not since his birth—Laura and Eli kept the house alive, were handfuls Logan couldn’t even imagine in five years from now. Laura was just beginning to enjoy schoolwork, to approach the new baby.
Their “whoops” pregnancy had complicated enough, another would be chaos on a level he couldn’t fathom. 
But damn, if he didn’t enjoy the thought. Logan was not too big to admit that he was proud, another new trait he found himself admonishing. A photo of the three of them tucked into the ventilation slots of the dash often triggered break-the-ice conversations with his passengers — your wife and kids? They’re beautiful.  
And fuck him if he wasn’t the proud husband and father who didn’t stop talking about them like a babbling idiot, which so wasn’t him in any universe he could understand or imagine.
Mhm, sure is. Laura, she’s almost twelve. And Eli—little man is just learning to hold ‘is head up, little tank of a thing — growin’ fast, faster than I want, the both of ‘em, and Mare—there ain’t words for what kind’a momma she is—
And truly, there never, will never be, enough words to adjective this feeling. 
Basically, he'd turned into a regular Mr. fuckin’ Brady. 
Attention triggered over his shoulder by the creak of the door’s hinges, Logan cracks open the beer, tosses aside the cap to the table like it’s nothing. Pulling long on the bottle, the tick of plastic knocking against itself draws up his brow, only making sense when she steps into his peripheral — a sight that drops his feet off the table with gusto.
Snaps him to attention like a fucking soldier. 
Fiddling with the all-too familiar breastpump gizmo that’s basically attached at her hip with how often of a presence it maintains, all moisture evaporates from the back of his mouth as she stands there, hip cocked, in little more than that tiny stupid satin robe that makes him lose his fucking mind.
Curls of hair frame her face from where they’ve fallen from the lazy clip she’s thrown into her hair, her skin fresh and adew, still, from that moisturizer she has him bring home. Even untied, the robe hides more of her than he wants, barely able to clock the neon fucking thong clinging to every curve of her hips for dear life.
Very quickly Logan recalls that he’s been away from home for five days, every one of them pistoning hot blood that laps for revenge in his cock. He’s hard in a way that aches, in seconds, and she doesn’t even bother to notice, too busy with that damn machine that gets far more VIP access to her tits than he could ever dream.
She’s close enough to reach, and he does, thick fingers tugging at the front of her robe with purpose.
“Havin’ a time with that, sweetheart?”
Cigar hanging low against his bottom lip, his other hand waves her to come hither, her eyes lifting from her handiwork to oblige him, “Give it ‘ere.”
Taking it from her, he sets it aside on the table, beckoning her forward to stand between his knees. The look on her face is defeated, almost disinterested. Tired pulls at the corner of her eyes, though there’s still a trace of sparkle in the depth of her ocean blues. 
His hand brushes open the robe, fingertips skimming over the expanse of her abdomen, bare and pale in the fade of the sun.
Entertaining the idea whether or not he’s going to choke on the smoke of his cigar at the mere sight of her, his fingers brush the material of the thong flossing the meat of her hip, eyes cutting to consider her breasts, now, bared before him at eye–level.
Fuck fuck fuck—
Swollen and full, visceral fingers of pleasurable ache grip his low spine, toying with his blood like it’s a plaything. It is, it’s her toy, her to do with what she pleases — and she knows that, most days. When she needs to.
And Logan knows there isn’t anything innately sexy about what needs to happen, here — she actively hates this, this required thing of her. Has told him so, on multiple fronts, despite his best attempts to change her mind.
Logan, there isn’t anything sexy about this — it hurts, it’s time consuming, I feel vulnerable—
Which, he concluded, was exactly why it was the single most beautiful thing that lapped his mind at all hours of the day, when he was off his game. 
There wasn’t anything like it in the world, a woman’s body. Never had understood until she’d given a son, until he’d been privy to watching the design of a woman’s anatomy actually at work. How it could receive, how it could multiply — how it could sustain a life, produce lifeblood. Nutrients not found naturally anywhere else, intimacy of its own kind.
Such vulnerable beauty stirred a desire to protect, to defend, he hadn’t experienced before — and it was sexy as all hell. Robbed him of sensible thought, of sanity. When he was alone, when he wasn’t, he starved thinking about it—hard and lusting.
Enough to drive a man to his knees in worship. 
A low, hungry moan rolls around the adamantium in his chest, hands moving to gently take the weight of her tits in his palms. Electricity may as well rip through him like a current, because every time is like the first when he touches her —it’s never the same. It’s always new and unique, always leaves him starving and curious.
But her hiss is sharp, features twisting in a hot writhe as her hand finds his shoulder. Strong fingers biting into his muscle tells him that this is familiar pain — that this is anything but what he’s experiencing, anything but what he’d give his right arm for it to be.
It crucifies him, nearly.
A crying shame. “You’re full, darlin’,” and if that doesn’t ignite something in the pit of him, he doesn’t know what, “didn’t do this today, did ya?” 
Lack of reaction says more than words ever will, no. Overseeing Laura’s schoolwork and tending to their son, while also managing what shambles of a home this shelter actually provides keeps her busy — he works, and she maintains life here, this refinery, this shell of a life he’s managed to provide. While she'd never complain, it is far from the white-picket fence American dream he’s supposed to strive for, provide. It’s a slippery slope into hell, trying to keep them all safe. Alive. Well. 
Mutants living the shell of a mutated life—fucking ironic. 
Gently and with care his hands form around the curve of her breast. It takes everything he’s got not to touch, to feel, to play, but the look on her face—the way she nearly cries, gives him pause. Hesitance.
“Easy,” she brushes at his hand, thumb gently grazing over one of her sensitive nipples, “please,” her murmur has grit, but isn’t viscous—like a dog whimpering from receiving care, she squirms a little beneath his touch, “that hurts.” 
“I can see that, sugar,” leaning forward, he pulls the cigar from the corner of his mouth and outs it on the arm of the steel patio furniture, slips the remainder in the front pocket of his jacket.
Logan gently brushes his nose against her breastbone, able to scent the sweetness beneath her skin. He tries to forget what it tastes like, hands instead slipping around her middle to gently knead the burning muscle of her shoulders, knots that are hot to touch, “You need somethin’ from me?”
It means everything and nothing, stirs his dick like a fucking ocean.
Her voice is resigned, small. “Not that, not right now," fingers card through his hair, a small smile teasing the corner of her pretty mouth, “can I just talk about some things, for the weekend? V’missed you.” Her hands move to gently skip her nails through his beard, Logan’s fingers tracing the line of her thong, temptingly.
“Sit back, honey. You’re crowding my seat, Wolverine.” Wolverine. Always her Wolverine, she’s always his. Two Wolverines. 
Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine the idea would be so good. 
Logan doesn’t need to be told again.
Shifting his hips forward, making room on the spread of his thighs, she swings a leg over him and gently seats herself on the plush of his thighs. Reaching past him for the pump, Logan relishes in her weight, how it straddles the cradle of his hips something beautiful, how it manages to constrict his chest to barely breathing levels of oxygen deprivation.
Keening, head spinning, she begins to hand express, the soft whir whir whir of the pump beneath her hand taking up more space in his ears than should be considered righteous. 
Staying busy on her body is never a problem—his hands grab at the meat of her opened thighs, fabric of the thong at the juncture of her legs pulled so tight he’s liable to snap in half.
Dizzy on the cocktail of scent—of her core, her skin, the saccahrine sweet of milk, eucalyptus in her hair—he can’t even manage a drink of his now-lukewarm beer. Sweat seeps through the layers of his clothes, riling up his skin — he’s hot to the point of overdrive. Redline and it’s stupid.
Fairly certain that he’ll bite the inside of his cheek until it’s shredded to nothing, Logan is all but a little dizzy when she takes his chin between her fingers. 
God, please — don’t ever let it not be like this. “Logan? You listenin’ to me?”
Her brow peaks, his hand lifting of its own will to her opposite breast. Mostly ignoring his touch, she bites the corner of her bottom lip—he feels her bristle under the attention. Pull of muscle in her legs is unmistakable, God Himself could see it.
“Hey, focus, will you? I’m asking you something, here.”
He hasn’t, not truthfully. She said something about the lady's group at the little church down the way inviting her somewhere, probably for the weekend. He’s too selfish to let her go but could deny her nothing — something about Laura swims through the back of his head, but he isn’t sure.
How she expects him to think straight, dressed so pretty in hardly anything, he’ll never understand. 
His lifted brow and cocksure smile gives her pause, she pushes at his shoulder and rolls her eyes. “Good God, Logan, you’re impossible,” and she goes to swing off his thighs, but his hands at her hips hold her fast, drags her down to his lap. A little harder, until her full weight drops.
He groans, but tries not to growl —it’s a sad attempt, really.
“Baby, please, this is important t’me —” 
Oh, and he knows. “Mhm, I know that,” his chuckle is breathless, airy—turns into a twisting, dark growl when he pulls at the line of her thong, snaps it against her little rolls that he’s been dreaming about for days, “mmm—nrgh—but darlin’ —”
“I’ll suck you off later, Logan – but I’m talking to you about Eli. You know, our son? Would you concentrate just a little, please?”
Aw, hell—Nothing about her tone is serious, but mention of her tight mouth on him severs his last bit of composure.
God only designed a man for so much, he was within Biblical grounds for fucking her within an inch of her precious, regenerative life.
His head snaps up at attention from the back of the chair, and with a dark glint of a smile, he drives her hips down hard on his thigh, her gasp a little too strong to be that surprised.
And he holds her there, knuckles white with the effort to drive her weight fully against the line of his muscle.
“Talk like that is li’ble to get you fucked out of your mind, darlin’,” sitting forward, he presses a hot kiss to the curve of her unoccupied tit, fighting her hand away from the pump to manage it himself, harsher than necessary, “I am this close to losin’ my fuckin’ composure, baby, so be nice.”
Mean, he rips her robe down off her shoulder to suck a hard, dark mark onto the top of her breast, and she all but collapses against his chest, the taste of her pearling sweat almost savory against his tongue. 
“You’re so mean, Lo,” breathless, her lips skip over the throbbing pulse in his neck. “Just want you to distract me,” sing-song, feigning innocent sobriety, his pretty wife’s tongue lathes at the pool of his collarbone, tongue dragging at the sheen of sweat drawing up on his skin at her touch, low against his Adonis belt.
“It hurts, you know,” now it’s quiet, an admission. It should whip him into shape, but instead, it takes him apart.
“Just wanna talk.” 
Logan’s mocking chortle is dismissive, if not a little cold. 
 “Fuck me,” breathless, his hand finds her hair and pulls her up, into a hard kiss that’s wet, hungry. Her breathy moan is shallow, and Logan forgets all about the busyness of his hand at her tit.
“You wanna talk. Fuck, darlin’— it’s been five days.” 
“You’re such a kid,” matching his meanness is one of his favorite ploys, it’s enough to driving him over the edge of sanity. “Can’t live five days without me — whatever did you do before me, Logan?” 
Taking her face in his hands, he pulls back, tucking a curl behind her ear.
“Dreamed of you,” the corner of his mouth ticks up in a quicksilver little smirk, “I still dream’a you, darlin’, whenever I ain’t here.” Kissing her slowly, unhurried, her taste is like honey. Her body like home, an extension of him he can’t even begin daydreaming of without wanting to weep. 
Giggling, awwwws him like a child. “I suppose I should give you somethin’ to dream about, huh, Lo?” 
And his dreams have never been so alive. 
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covenofagatha · 3 days ago
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i... wow. sorry if this is too vulgar; i was at the gym when you posted, and like you've psychologically conditioned me, my underwear became.. awfully sticky.. and remained that way the whole day (which i would send a picture if i fear it'd be too far) because i decided to save the read for when i reached home. I'm grateful i did, because despite being shorter than the rest of your works, it was, as always, a masterpiece :)
i hope your exam went well (not sure what timezone you're in, but here friday is basically over... so you've completed it in my book) and as a little prize, here's another tiny brainworm loosely inspired by my experience with your notification today:
desperate! perv! agatha who gets off to your voice, ft. masturbation, pillow humping and fucking, sheet (?) sniffing, daddy kink, praise, voyeurism and dubcon depending on what you want i guess
maybe you're unaware of how your voice affects agatha, innocently obeying when she asks you to "do as many pushups as you can, saying my name each time, baby", and because you love your girlfriend, you'll heed her and her little quirks. you just presume she wants to properly know how many pushups you can do, since it's easy for you to cheat by just saying numbers, right?
or, maybe you're a little more aware then you let on. maybe you exaggerate your noises a little, grunting "agatha" in the husky tone you know she adores, voice gradually dwindling into a whimper of her name.
hopefully unbeknownst to you, agatha is imagining your voice calling "daddy" over and over. you haven't discussed it yet, and she's too embarrassed to bring it up, because what if it's too much for you? the sheets are still gently stained with your juices from your shenanigans with her from last night, and she was supposed to change them (and, well she technically was) -- but she saw the darkened part of the sheets and got all riled up again.
agatha groans as she hears you, and hastily fumbles for the mute button, not wanting you to hear her (maybe she instead presses the video button, and you see flashes of her rigid cock, her head thrown back, and you cant help but buck your hips each time you lower yourself to the ground).
"baby, darling, you've ruined me," agatha mumbles, moving to position a pillow between her legs because she doesn't want to touch herself, rather have your hands, your mouth, your cunt. fuck, she's starting to drip precum just thinking about you.
pushing her nose against the stain you left on the sheet, she inhales sharply, desperately, taking in the lingering scent of you as she humps the pillow like a dog in heat.
it's not enough, she realises, and she tugs the sheet up, inadvertently giving her the brilliant idea as your pillow falls; if she folds it in half, it forms a nice gap that envelopes her throbbing dick nicely, and she can't bother to think about the logistics of it when she's hearing your voice on the other end, already done with pushups, just rambling on about your day like you don't know what you do to her.
she brings the soiled sheet up to sniff, groaning as she jolts into the pillow, babbling "daddy's good little girl" and "my favourite cocksleeve" and "please, baby, you're so good for daddy". (if you can hear her, perhaps you pause your talking just to question what she's doing, but she's too far gone into her pleasure to even notice).
"daddy needs you so bad, pretty girl, ngh-" and she pulls out of the (now sticky) pillow to cum all over the sheets, and the idea that your leftover juices on the fabric are now covered in *her* cum sends another load out of her, splattering audibly as she bucks her hips into nothing.
(if she's muted the whole time, she delights darkly in the fact that you don't know a thing, her naive little pet. but perhaps she realises only after, that her mic and camera is on, when you pipe up with a "enjoy yourself, daddy?" and she grows humiliatingly hard all over again.)
I'll stop here because my head is pounding lol, but i hope you like it (and i hope the start doesn't make you uncomfortable). thank you for gracing us with your incredible writing miss covenofagatha, looking forward to your next piece, whatever it is 😉
sorry i keep bothering you in your asks, let me know if you want me to stop! also, please don't feel obligated to write this in full as a request or anything, it truly is just a wriggly brainworm thought I have that i thought you might like 💜
-lots of love, worm anon
Every time you send an ask it has me on the fucking floor jesus christ how do you keep coming up with hotter ideas
I don't even know how I would be able to write more about this because every single word is so perfect and so detailed and fuck so hot oh my god
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