#please whisper please please please please

[meowdei]

down the drain (literally) — ft. ryomen sukuna

female reader ; established relationship (engaged even!) ; modern bf sukuna ; slightly dramatic reader (she’s in shambles okay??) ; soft sukuna ; fluff

Sukuna is going to kill you.

For one, you’ve been in the bathroom for thirty minutes and he is clearly sick of it—the door handle rattling is proof enough. For another…well…your engagement ring is down the drain.

(Literally.)

You’re technically supposed to take it off when you wash your face just to be safe, but you get tired, and you forget here and there—mornings are always rough as it is. Sometimes, because you’re human, you forget. And it’s generally okay. Until it’s not.

Because your engagement ring is down the drain. (Literally.)

“God fuckin’ dammit woman,” he hisses, knocking on the door, “what are you doing in there? Open the damn door it’s been ages.”

“Just a second,” you call, panicking as you try to pull the drain plug out, but it doesn’t budge. Your fingers aren’t doing you any favors either—it feels like they’re the perfect size to not fit around anything to help you out here.

Your engagement ring is down the drain (literally) and there’s nothing to do but slowly bite your lip as tears collect at your lash line. So you open the door—and before Sukuna’s angry face can scold you any further, you’ve collapsed against his chest, soaking his bare chest with your tears.

“Wha—” he’s stunned. Stiff and standing there for a moment before he’s stuttering, “h-hey—I didn’t even yell at you that bad, what the fuck? Why’re you bein’ so—”

“I’m sorry, Kuna,” you sob, “please don’t be mad!”

“I’m mad but not that mad,” he says, bewildered. You sob harder at that, and his hands quickly find your hips and squeeze in panic at a poor attempt to reassure you. “Okay, okay! Not mad. Just…mildly annoyed. You’re…mildly annoying, better?”

“I didn’t mean to,” you wail.

“Okay! I got it! You’re havin’ a slow morning. Whatever, I waited. Can we just—”

“I didn’t think it’d slip off like that!”

“What’re you talkin’ about?”

“My ring,” you hiccup. He stills. You sniffle, pulling away and preparing yourself for his harsh, bitter anger as you whisper, “it fell down the drain.”

“What?” he looks at you, still confused. “What do you mean?”

“I w-was washing my face and then…and then—” you take a shuddering breath to try and work through your sobs before you continue, “it fell off and went down the drain! Now it’s in the sewers!”

“The sewers?”

“Yeah the pipes are gonna take it to the sewers!”

“I don’t think it’s in the sewers just yet—”

“And then the sewers will take it to the ocean and then I’ll never find it again!”

“The ocean is a long way from here—”

“I’m so, so, so sorry—”

“Oh my god, woman,” he grabs your cheeks, squeezing them together to shut you up as you stare up at him with wet, miserable, teary eyes. And he softens. Lets his shoulders fall a little as he sighs before rough thumbs are swiping at your cheeks less than gently, but more than in love. “’S just a ring.”

“It’s not just a ring,” you gasp, “it’s my engagement ring!”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugs, “but we’re still engaged—”

“But now no one will know!”

“Then I’ll buy you a damn new one,” he groans, rubbing his temples as he clicks his teeth when a fresh new round of tears soak your cheeks. (He doesn’t like how it looks—wobbly lips and puffy eyes on you make him feel like he’s doing something wrong. He has enough mistakes to worry about as is.)

“But it’s expensive and—”

“And not your problem,” he grumbles, “I’ll buy you a ring. A nicer one, too, if you promise to quit your whining.”

“You’re not mad?” you sniffle, slumping against his chest as your arms circle his waist.

He melts. Because it’s you, and he always does when it’s you. His arms wrap tightly around you, and a large hand cups the back of your head as he presses a small kiss to your temple.

“You want me to be mad that bad?”

“No,” you whimper.

“Then ‘m not,” he snorts, chest vibrating under your cheek at his laugh, “so quit worryin’. You’ll get creases and everyone’ll think I married some old hag.”

You crack a small grin. He’s good at that—at pulling a soft smile onto your lips against your will as you let out a quiet giggle, gently swatting at his back with your hand as you huff. For a second, the ring is forgotten. For a second, it’s just you, it’s just Sukuna, and it’s just nothing else.

“Not a hag, you asshole,” you huff.

“You nag like one,” he mumbles.

“Do not,” you huff, “you just always piss me off.”

“You piss me off, too.”

“Are you pissed off about the ring?” you ask quietly.

“No,” he grunts. His arms squeeze you tighter, his lips kiss your head once more, and his body sways you side to side ever so slightly as he repeats, more seriously this time, “no. Forget the ring. I’ll get you a new one if I have to, so don’t cry.”

“Okay,” you murmur. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he hums.

He does. Ring or not, he does. And you can tell he does when he pulls away, gently pinches your nose and leans in to kiss the tears off your face as you can’t help but smile and giggle.

Your ring is down the drain (literally) and so is the hefty sum of money he spent on it, but everything else is still right here. Him and you and you and him and everything you’re ever built, nestled perfectly safe between the little space between your bodies.

“Done cryin’?” he asks gently.

You nod, kissing his jaw as he hums in content. “Yeah.”

“Great. Then get out—it’s my turn in the bathroom and I’ve waited long enough.”

—————— BONUS.

“Hand me the wrench.”

“Okay,” you hum. You hand him a tool, and he stares at you unimpressed as soon as he looks at it.

“That’s a screwdriver.”

“Oh. Which one’s the wrench?”

“Give me a fuckin’ break,” he groans, rubbing his temples.

Fifteen minutes later, and a good deal of bickering over what a wrench looks like and how his tools don’t all look the same, Sukuna has successfully retrieved your very shiny, and very pretty engagement ring. (It didn’t make it very far down the pipes—which is good. It didn’t make it to the sewers, and it most certainly didn’t make its way into the ocean.)

It’s no longer down the drain. (Literally.)

It’s now on your finger. (Literally.)

“Happy?” he raises a brow, watching as you grin at your finger, clearly pleased.

“Yeah,” you hum, sighing in relief. “Good thing you’re at least good at something.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you say innocently.

“I’m flushin’ that thing down the toilet next time! Sendin’ it straight into the ocean so you’ll never find it again!”

I’ll never forget when I was six years old and I dropped the small ring I got from a gumball machine down the drain when I was brushing my teeth and then I had such a severe meltdown my dad had to bust out his toolkit, open the damn bathroom sink pipes, and fish it out. Because six year old me could not FATHOM losing my 50 cent plastic ring no matter how many times he promised he’d buy me a new one 💀

Anyway. My dad and I were reminiscing about that on call and then I decided it would make a cute sukuna drabble so here you go.

Anyway peace ✌️

[madamechrissy]

Stripper! Satoru

Pairings- Stripper! Satoru x Bride! reader

Summary- You've been promised your entire life to Naoya Zenin, and now there's just one night left. Never having a choice, or any freedom, raised to be his perfect bride- your friends throw a party with the hottest male revue show there is, and that's where you meet him - Satoru.

Warnings - MDNI- Satoru is basically Magic Mike, angstyyy, explicit sex, loss of virginity, oral ( f receiving) sweet/whipped Satoru, sheltered reader, kissing, drinking, reader is engaged (arranged marriage) so morally gray but it's Naoya so fuck him, emotional asff , open end for now! (story will wrap it up) <3

This will be a FULL length multichapter fic after I finish a cpl wips, it's been eating me up to write so I want to show you at least a preview of it! tag list open for when it's released, drop a comment if you wanna get added! it's a long one <3

Stripper! Satoru who is the star of the biggest male revue in the nation, he's always showing off his well oiled, defined abs, and making every girl there feel so good. He loves watching how they tremble as they touch his abdomen, loves the way they giggle when he dances, straddling them in their chair, brushing their cheeks with his fingers, a wink that makes them melt.

Stripper! Satoru oils his toned, muscular body before each show until it's gleaming under the lights, hips undulating as he tossed that cowboy hat into the air, clad in assless chaps and a thin tie, with some black silk on his cock that shows his entire outline. And God was he packing, the other dancers of the review get the oohs and ahs, but he is always center stage and thrives in it, in the looks of everyone dying to bring him home.

Stripper! Satoru and his crew have an exclusive party tonight, for a bride to be - and she must be wealthy, because they're walking right into a mansion, dressed up as cops tonight, Satoru loves to put on a good show for these women, his white hair tucked under a police cap, as he rings the doorbell, which opens with what he assumes are the bride's friends. They're already giggling and rushing the men in, one pulls Gojo aside, whispering in his ear - 'please, make her smile tonight... she's really...' he doesn't need the rest of the answer when he sees your face, so lost and broken, and it makes him falter.

Stripper! Satoru has never seen a bride not giggling and excited, once or twice he absolutely saw them nervous or worried, some of them would want to sleep with him or the crew as their 'last night' of freedom, and most of them were usually fine giving it to them. Not Satoru however, although he has hooked up with his fair share of women, he does not sleep with brides to be, as much as they have tried, he does have a couple small boundaries and that is one.

Stripper! Satoru still gave them a good show, he still licked across their skin and let them touch his body, he put a smile on their faces, made them blush, he made them all soaking wet. But he's never encountered the sad eyes that meet his now, the nervous biting of your lower lip as you look around in utter confusion. Your friend sighs, tugging Satoru down now. 'Arranged marriage, and he's... fucking horrible. Please, help her forget for one night?' he sees now why they paid so much, it's clear your friends love you, as the lights turn off and the LEDs turn on, your face is illuminated with red light, haunting him as he almost forgets the routine.

Stripper! Satoru and the crew begin to 'pretend' to arrest you and the girls, fake handcuffs on their wrists while the men press the girls down on the chairs, beginning their 'pat down'. But as Satoru approaches you, and touches your skin with the toy, fake metal of the cuffs, you just sigh, making him pause. The music continues, but he instead gently presses you on the seat, getting on his knees now, as your eyes drink the prettiest man you've seen once he takes off those dark shades. Your breath catches when he gently brushes your hair off your shoulder, and asks - 'Are you even okay with this, sweetheart?'

Stripper! Satoru doesn't realize, you've never been asked if you're okay with anything, your whole life was just made so you can marry the leader of the Zenin clan, so that you were a pristine, perfect and untouched wife. You take a shaky breath, easing in his presence, finally having someone ask if you were okay was something you didn't even have growing up. To come from a stripper dressed like a cop was surprising, but you instantly relax, thighs spreading just a bit, which his insane blue eyes dart to. 'I'm sorry, yes, I want to, please...'

Stripper! Satoru has never felt whatever the fuck it was when he touches your skin, the sensations shooting through him, he watches goosebumps rise on your skin when his crew grabs his attention. He smiles, looking at you once more. 'I'll give you the funnest night, I promise' you giggle, you don't think you've ever giggled, nodding as he steps back, and the men play that music and rip off the fake outfits bit by bit. That's when your tummy clenches, heat pooling, watching Satoru's body revealed as he rolls his hips, and your friends all smile at you, seeing you actually happy for the first time since you heard the wedding was impending.

Stripper! Satoru is insanely talented, not just his ripped, perfect body, but how he moves it, so clearly the leader of them all, surely they all had gorgeous bodies, but something about him drew your avid attention. You get flustered and shift as you study his movements, and his eyes just won't leave yours, they kept glancing at you, a smile on plump lips while they all strip down, and then step close to each of you, you're the only one without the cuffs, they sit on your lap instead. Satoru braces his arms on either side of you, breath trailing across your neck when he dances between your thighs, abs flexing right in front of your face. Your breath dances on his skin as you nervously exhale, feeling your heart pounding in your chest.

Stripper! Satoru runs the most famous male revue for a reason, he's about as charming and confident as it gets, it's enigmatic his pull, but mostly you keep looking at those eyes, getting lost in them - for a moment forgetting your wedding to Naoya tomorrow - a man you've known bits and pieces of for a long time, long enough to be terrified of him. For a moment you let go and smile nervously, you touch his slick muscles when he puts your fingers on his chest, and the laughter carries through the room. As their set ends, an entire party begins, with shots everywhere and dancing, you see your friends stealing little kisses, envying their freedom, but the blue eyed man with slicked back white hair seems to focus on you, taking your hand and bringing you into a dance then. You giggle again, shaking your head. 'I can't dance... what's your name? The real one, not the stage name' you say, looking up at him then, and he tugs you closer against him. 'It's Satoru'

Stripper! Satoru uses a stage name, but for some reason he wants you to have that name, a hand sliding down your body over your pretty white dress, addling his mind. 'Anyone can dance, you've just never tried, sweetheart' you shake your head again, but he's already moving your hips for you, turning you so that your back presses against him, and that's when he feels it, your sweet body against his making him ache in ways he hasn't in a long time. 'See, you're dancing now' you lean back against him, shutting your eyes then, just feeling him. 'My friend set you up to cheer me up, huh?' he sighs against your ear, aching to press a kiss against your neck, but knowing he shouldn't. 'You do have good friends, but I just like dancing with you'

Stripper! Satoru has you downing another shot, the atmosphere is intense- these parties get this way, frequently, another perk of being the most famous male revue was endless beautiful women, and making bank on top of it. Satoru notices the dilation of your eyes when you take one more shot, licking your lips before peering around so shyly. 'Everything okay, these parties get a little...' he's asking about you again, the mere thoughtfulness pushes you to step forward, pulling him down by the black bow tie he's got on, nothing else but a black speedo at this point, revealing the body carved out like a statue, but he lets you yank him down, eyes lowering to your lips. 'If I could, have a kiss, a real one before I... don't get a choice anymore' your whisper ends him, his heart breaking for a girl he doesn't know, even in a haze of liquor and undulating bodies, everything fades but you.

Stripper! Satoru can't help but ask in surprise - 'you've never kissed?' and you see the surprise in his eyes, you look around, the music still blaring, overwhelming your senses. 'No, never, um... I shouldn't-' Satoru breaks his own rule then, slamming his lips down on yours, your first kiss, one you will think upon when it's just that cruel man looking down at you instead. You gasp against his lips, inviting his tongue to dance inside your mouth, yours dances along his, messy and clumsy but following every movement like a dance itself. He feels it then, his cock throbbing from a kiss, you don't seem to notice or maybe don't even want to say something as it presses high up on your tummy, while his hands slip up your body, for all eyes to see. But your friends clearly are pleased- they wanted you to have one night of fun, even if it wasn't what you were 'supposed' to do.

Stripper! Satoru has you against a wall before you can blink, like a switch went off in his mind and all that turns on is you. His hands are on either side of you when he pulls back, taking a breath, cursing softly, your breasts are rising and falling as you look up at him, desire for the first time in your life overtaking you. 'Thank you, Satoru' you smile sadly, was it better to not kiss at all than to have this? 'Is it that bad, the guy?' he murmurs then, and you look down, trembling just a bit, and his instinct is to protect you when he doesn't even know you. Satoru is protective of those he loves, but this feeling makes no sense. Tears fill your eyes and you sniffle, looking away, but he tilts your chin up, swiping one off with a thumb now. 'Thank you for tonight, I see why you're so popular...' he tries to smirk then, raising a brow. 'Because I'm so sexy?' you giggle even through your tears, you've never laughed so much in your life, shaking your head, making him pout. 'You're kinda mean, you're saying I'm not?'

Stripper! Satoru is trying to tease it off, the feelings throbbing though his body, but you're too much when you say - 'no, it's because you're really something special' another tear falls despite tremulous lips, swollen from his kiss, he feels the eyes on him, this isn't what he does, never ever the bride, but it's like he can't drag himself away from your gravity. Kissing you again is too easy, lifting you like it's nothing is even easier, the way you cling to him and lose yourself as the two of you are now locked in a room is even easier. Your dress slips up your hips with a silky whisper, his big hands gripping your hips and dragging you against him, you whine out as you feel it, the sweat dripping against your skin while he barely holds it together, ignoring the fact that he knows better, forgetting that you're not his, and how badly that for some reason feels to him, while he's got your back on a bed, kissing down your breasts and tugging at your dress now.

Stripper! Satoru has his mouth devouring every pretty inch of skin you allow him to, hot and hungry while you melt under him, clothes dissolving with gentle tugs, baring you to his vision, his fingers dance across your skin like you're a canvas and they're delicate paint brushes at first, then they're more insistent, more pressure, hungrier and hungrier for you. 'Fuck, you're beautiful...' he doesn't say that either, of course he compliments, but he's never seen someone earn that title quite like you, when he frees your breasts and they gently bounce from your bra, when your nipples perk up just for his mouth to suck on. When your hands entwine in his silky white hair, and he's pulling one into his mouth, while the other hand twists your other bud taut, and your cunt starts drooling, throbbing, one that's never been touched, even by yourself. Sheltered and taught it's all terrible, your friends had shown you some things but you're mostly lost to anything Satoru is doing, just lost in how good it all feels.

Stripper! Satoru pauses for a moment, as he's licking a trail between your breasts, eyeing you under snowy lashes, watching as you breasts rise and fall. 'We should stop now, before... I can't stop' his husky declaration is filled with need, your hand rushes through his hair, taking a shaky breath and whispering - 'would you be my first?' he pulls back, terrified at the statement, his mouth wide open, he knows it's too far to do, his morals grey enough, just hovering. 'He's cruel and he's... awful to women, it won't be happy for me. I just want once, to be my choice...' Satoru swallows nervously, lifting one of your thighs now, pressing his cock against your heat, watching your head fall back. 'You're really stuck in this? there's no way to get out of it?' you shake your head, trying to focus as your body responds to him. 'N-no, there's no way, y-you don't have to just I-' he moans then, internally cursing himself, because he's already intoxicated off you. 'Your choice' he repeats softly, you nod quickly, taking shaky breaths and gripping his shoulders. 'My choice'

Stripper! Satoru has his long pink tongue slipping across your panties, hot and wet against your cunt, the material pressed tighter and tighter, you're whining out, uncaring of any noise you make, the first time any one has touched you and it's with his mouth. Satoru moans against you, vibrations making your cunt throb when he yanks your panties to the side, baring your perfect, pretty pussy to his hungry gaze, glistening already with your slick. You cry out now, hips raising up for more, when he places a lewd kiss on it, honeyed arousal pouring from your little hole. You should be more nervous right? Afraid of a stranger seeing you? But you're not, you're so ready the moment his mouth latches you're screaming out, hips bucking, whining out at how good it feels.

Stripper! Satoru loses it once he tastes you, those panties slipped down your thighs, torn between leisurely teasing you and straight up devouring you. He opts for the latter, slipping panties down your thighs and gripping you by the fat of your ass, bringing your cunt flush so he can bury himself. He drowns in your cunt as his tongue lavished your walls, while you are rolling your eyes back, breaths coming in little pants while he licks every part of you, tastebuds soaking in your flavor. He has you falling apart under him in moments, your gummy little walls gripping his wet muscle, feeling you tremble underneath him as your first orgasm rocks you so hard you can't see.

Stripper! Satoru presses one more kiss, leaning over you and slipping down that thin satin layer between you, revealing a thick, long cock, you gasp when you see how huge it is, for one moment wondering how it would fit, when he kisses you so messy and desperate, hot heavy cock slapping your skin. 'Satoru!' Your cry makes him leak precum against your inner thigh, as he looks down at you, sighing. 'Are you sure, sweets? We can stop here' again, he gives you the choice, despite speaking through gritted teeth, as if he's in pain, holding his breath and just watching you. You shock him then, hand sliding down to touch his cock, a featherlight brush that almost makes him cum, eyes meeting his now. 'I want it, please'

Stripper! Satoru isn't going to turn down your sweet plea, your desperate ask under him, asking him to take something so special, but he understands you, he knows you need to have a choice without even knowing you. He kisses you then, more intimate in moments than he has been with women before ever. His cock teases and dips against your soppy little hole then, pressing slightly and feeling your tight resistance, moaning as he does. 'It will hurt just a sec, okay sweetheart?' You nod then, and the pain hits, sharp and sweet and addictive, he pauses, letting you adjust, trying not to bust from how fucking right you feel, how perfect. Instead he holds back, watching you with bright blue eyes. 'You okay honey?' - and making you relax under him, the burn and stretch mixing with pleasure the further he presses, nodding eagerly, dragging him back down for a kiss, which he whimpers into as he thrusts inside.

Stripper! Satoru hardly holds back, knowing it's your first time, shaking with the effort not to fold you in a mating press and fuck you to the hilt like he wants. 'Perfect, fuck you feel s'good, mnh...' he's muttering those words as he pulls back and thrusts further, stretching you out impossibly, she's soaking down his veiny length to accommodate, while she pulses from her aftershocks, and you feel that fullness, you're so full. Satoru shoves in harder, deeper, seeing what you can take, your head falls to the side to be littered with kisses, careful not to mark you, though God he wants to, to bite and bruise every inch of skin with his teeth. He wants to leave bruises on your hips, fill you with so much cum you drip him when that man comes near you - but he knows that's fucking stupid.

Stripper! Satoru is pussy drunk so fast, as you open for him, as you loosen your hold, arching your hips up to meet his thrusts, unleashed as you scratch his back, leaving your marks, marks he'll wish will never leave in the coming days. You kiss across his neck, teeth sinking into it and leaving your bite, as he bottoms out in your perfect cunt, the echoes of the squelching wetness and your cries mixing with the smacking of skin, as he loses his control, and you fall off the edge with him. Moans and sighs, gasps and cries, all while he's filling you over and over, bringing you closer to the brink, losing anything and everything all under his long, lithe body, the shadows casting and stretching across the wall, of him over you, of your thighs wrapped around his narrow waist.

Stripper! Satoru has never felt anything like you gripping him, never tasted anything like that honey lingering on his lips, fucking you and dragging his tip on your spot just so, until you shatter, cumming blindingly, crying out his name as you do. He quiets you with a kiss, your cunt spasming around his cock and gushing down further, making a mess of the bed, of him, of you. You're blinking back your vision as you gasp and he leans up, dragging you all the way down his length, his whine so sexy while his head falls back, veins in his arms bulging as he grips you so tight, watching the bulge in your tummy as he slowly moves in and out. 'cum once more, please, wanna feel her again' his whisper is met with a jerky nod, when he finds your clit with the pad of his thumb, running in circles and shoving in so deep he slams your cervix.

Stripper! Satoru watches the pretty bride - not his, how are you not his? - cum for him then, thighs shaking, your head falling back into the soft pillows, and he's done for, leaning forward to pump a few more times, fucking you through that orgasm, before he pulls out with a gasp, wishing he could finish in you, instead pumping that cum on your tummy, white networks of ropes decorating it as it moves up and down with your heavy breaths. You start to come to, when he's cleaning you up, when he's wiping the soreness between your thighs, when he's holding you and kissing you. You feel the emotions hit, the overwhelming pleasure can't override this one singular feeling - dread - and moreso now that you felt this, that you know what it is, to feel so perfect and cherished by a stranger.

Stripper! Satoru panics when you cry, 'was it too much, are you hurt sweetheart or-' you shake your head, hugging him to you tightly, sweet kisses on his neck and cheek then. 'No, it was perfect, so perfect Satoru. Thank you' you shouldn't be thanking him, he musees to himself, letting you kiss him as the knocks finally sound on the door. He gently helps you get dressed, the party is clearly still going on but your friend wanted to check on you, to see your disheveled state she just smiles, rushing off and apologizing, but your skin is decorated in your blush, and he sees it, the fear in your gaze. 'Am I horrible?' he shakes his head then, kissing you again. 'No, you're perfect' and it just leads to more, he can't stop kissing your skin, he can't stop fucking into you, each time hurting less and just feeling better, letting you ride him tentatively, holding you from behind as he fucks you, until the two of you fall asleep, against each other.

Stripper! Satoru overslept clearly, as you're all ready to leave - for a wedding to a monster - and most of the men are hungover, sipping coffee and ready to go home. When he does get dressed in the normal clothes he brought with, you hold his hand, looking down and swallowing, not knowing what to say - that you think in one night you fell for a man - that you'll never be available. It sounds too cruel to say to someone, when there's no future, so instead you hug him tightly, and he holds you against him, trying to hold back everything he wants to say and do. 'Are you gonna be okay?' he asks softly before he leaves, and you smile as brightly as you can, nodding. 'I will be. Thank you for... everything.' one more sweet kiss, and Satoru has to let your hand go, knowing he will never have you again eats at him and he was just inside you, he can't even speak or answer a question, all he can think of is you.

Stripper! Satoru seems like a fantasy, as you walk down the aisle, seeing the bored and cruel gaze staring right at you, dark brown eyes with murderous intent, a nasty smirk as he assessed you. Tousled blond hair, he looks instead at a few of the women sitting in the benches waiting, winking at them instead, before turning back and setting his jaw. When you stand in front of him he yanks back your veil, eyes narrowing and humming to himself. 'Suppose you'll do' he says then, leaving you to feel sick as he grips your wrist, unceremoniously putting a glittery ring on it. 'that hurts...' you whisper weakly, and he squeezes harder, glaring now. 'Keep your mouth shut, little bitch, got it? you're my property now' you sink back, knowing then, the pit in your stomach had been correct, the rumors must be true- he is horrible.

As you sit through the ceremony, as your friends try to comfort you are sent home, as your entire world crumbles and ends, you try to cling to the memory of feeling special, beautiful, you feel his touch, you feel his caress - his gaze. You cling to it as your eyes fill with tears, as your stomach fills with nausea, as he's yanking you onto his lap and laughing cruelly at you. You think of him...

Satoru

Soooo yes this will be a long one, and dw it will end happy somehow! Comment for tags of you're interested in their story <3

perm tagsss- @alt--er--love @nanasukii28 @cuntphoric @loafteaw @n1vi @indiewritesxoxo @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy @orixxxana @airandyeah @nina-from-317 @evelynxxo @naammiii @soyokosuguru @espresso1patronum @tomboy-disaster @iam-souless @lanii-i @cristy-101 @doeeyestoji @cvixmei @mutsu422 @ivyvenus333 @g00seg1rl @suki91 @satoao-main @fairygardenprincesss @theonlyjuggernaut @huntyhuntycunty @lovelockdownff @ibreathesmut @s777athv @twinklywinkly @akiii143 @squeezyvalkyrie @cookielovesbook-akie @oinksa @grignardsreagent @shokosbunny

[secretyurigarden]

gently touching her wedding ring and whispering “please stop… for me…”

[spikedfearn]

Under The Blood Moon

one-shot

Remmick x fem!reader

summary: in the humid belly of the night, you flee through the wild woods, breathless and bleeding, chased by a monster dressed in the skin of a man, and when he inevitably catches you, it's not to kill, but to keep. What follows is neither rescue or ruin, but a slow, savage claim written in blood, hunger, and heat.

wc: 8.1k

a/n: for this request, where anon wanted me to lean into Remmick's more monstrous side. My inbox is always open if anyone wants to submit more! also, thank you all so, so, so much for all the love, support, and general positivity you've all shown my fics lately—it genuinely means more than I can even put into words. I'm still blown away by the responses my fics have gotten in the last week, it warms my soul to no end every time I think about it <3 also have to credit axelboneboy for putting the idea of Remmick with a forked tongue in my head

warnings: heavy dubcon, dead dove: do not eat, blood kink, period sex, heavy breeding kink, monsterfucking, possessive behavior, coercive control, demon x human dynamics, religious imagery, breeding/ownership language, filthy talk, cockdrunk reader, forced orgasm, restraints/restraint kink, forced captivity, manipulation, southern gothic horror, explicit sexual content, obsession, violence, rough sex, blood play, dark romance,  somnophilia undertones (reader too weak to consent properly)

likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated!! please enjoy!!

M I N D T H E T A G S

Your breath saws raggedly through your throat as you run, legs scraping through the underbrush, branches slashing at your arms, the wet slap of mud against your calves. Your shoes are long gone, lost somewhere back on the splintered path—the soles of your feet raw and stinging with every frantic step.

Your dress, once a soft, homespun cotton in faded butter yellow, clings wetly to your skin, torn at the hem, heavy with damp earth and blood from shallow scratches. The thin petticoat underneath is ripped, the neckline torn where it caught on a low-hanging branch. Your bare legs gleam with sweat and dirt under the fevered gaze of the blood moon. The rough, hand-stitched seams bite into your skin with every frantic movement.

Behind you—

Footsteps.

Heavy, deliberate.

Not rushing, no.

He doesn't need to rush.

The blood moon glowers overhead, a bruised red eye in the sky, bleeding sickly light through the skeletal trees. The mist writhes around your ankles like grasping fingers, every breath clogged with the sour, choking scent of wet moss and rot. The forest feels alive—the cypress trees hunching closer, the swamp water sloshing in unseen black pools, the night thick with the buzz of unseen insects and the sticky slap of humidity against your skin.

You tear through a thicket, thorns slicing your thighs, the pain sharp but distant beneath the roaring panic. Your dress snags again—this time you rip free with a sob, fabric tearing in your frantic escape. You don't stop. You can't stop.

Your lungs burn. Your heart pounds a frantic, desperate rhythm against your ribs. Your hands are scraped raw where you shove branches aside. You don't know where you're going—only that you have to keep moving.

You think for one stupid, precious second that maybe you've lost him.

Then you hear it—

A low, rumbling chuckle.

The sound rolls across the mist like thunder, like a beast amused by the futile thrashing of its prey.

You shove yourself harder, feet slipping in the mud, the trees spinning in dizzy circles around you.

You should have listened.

The warning plays in your mind now, mocking and merciless—the old women in town, whispering in the feed store, their wrinkled hands making frantic crosses over their chests.

Don't go out on the blood moon.

There's something that walks these woods. A devil dressed in skin, hunting for its next meal.

You had laughed it off. Old wives' tales. A story to get unruly children to behave. Of course you didn't believe it...

Not until the heavy footsteps started following you.

Not until the woods seemed to shift, herding you deeper and deeper.

Not until the laughter—low, rich, and terrifying.

Your foot catches on a root hidden beneath the mist. You go down hard, the impact knocking the air from your lungs. Dirt and dead leaves cling to your palms as you scramble up, only to be yanked backwards by an iron grip around your ankle.

A scream rips from your throat as you're dragged across the ground, nails clawing uselessly at the earth, the taste of dirt and blood thick on your tongue.

"Well, lookie here," a deep, amused voice drawls from the shadows, thick with a Southern slur, soaked in heat and hunger. "Thought you could outrun me, lil’ hare?"

You kick, thrash, cry but—but it's useless.

He steps into view.

For the first time, you see him. Truly see him.

Broad-shouldered, wrapped in the kind of strength that speaks of old blood, of violence written into the bones. His bangs are slick with sweat and sticking to his forehead, catching the moonlight in glints of silver and soot. His mouth is a slow, cruel curve, teeth flashing when he smiles—serrated and sharp, dangerous in their promise.

And his eyes—

God, his eyes.

Deep, burning red, like fresh blood spilled on freshly fallen snow.

They glint at you through the mist, pinning you in place, drowning you in a voracity so raw it almost hums against your skin.

You whimper, trying to crab-crawl backward, but he just tilts his head, slow and mocking, one hand reaching lazily down to wrap around your ankle again.

"You run real pretty," he murmurs, accent thick and sweet as sap dripping down the bark of a Maple tree, "but you ain't got nowhere left t' go, sugar."

The gnarled woods close around you, the mist swallowing your pitiful cries, the trees bending low to listen.

And the monster—

The one you were warned about—

Grins as he pounces.

The world spins in a dizzy, mud-slick blur as he crashes into you, the full weight of him knocking the breath from your lungs. His hands are everywhere—rough palms sliding up your trembling thighs, your waist, trapping your wrists above your head with a grip so strong it aches.

You thrash, wild and panicked, but it’s like fighting against a landslide.

Every frantic buck of your hips, every desperate twist of your wrists, every teary plea for help, only seems to amuse him further.

He straddles you easily, his thighs like iron on either side of your hips, his body radiating impossible heat. His breath ghosts over your neck—slow, savoring—and when he inhales, it’s with a deep, shuddering drag, as though he’s drinking you in.

You go still.

Frozen.

A scared little rabbit under the paw of a hungry wolf.

Slowly, he lifts his head, and when your eyes meet his, your heart lurches sickly into your throat.

Those eyes—

Red as the blood moon above.

Glowing, starving.

The corner of his mouth curls, a slow, predatory grin, delighting in your overwhelming fear.

"Y' smell it, don't ya?" he murmurs, low and thick with appetite. His nose brushes the curve of your neck, inhaling again, greedily, his voice gone almost reverent. "Sweet lil' thing...bleedin' just f'me."

Your stomach turns over, nausea and terror twining like barbed wire.

He slides lower, his body pressing yours into the soft, damp earth. You can feel every strong inch of him—the way the metal of his belt buckle digs into your hip, the way his thigh muscles tense against you like a coiled predator savoring the final moments before it goes in for the kill.

His nose trails down, brushing the hollow of your throat, the dip between your breasts—slow, agonizing, torturous.

You try to pull away—

He growls.

Not a human sound.

Something low, rattling. Monstrous.

His hand tightens around your wrists until your bones creak. His other hand snakes between your bodies, grabbing your skirt—what's left of it—and dragging it higher, baring your thighs to the muggy night air.

"No use runnin' now," he says, almost gentle, as if talking down a skittish animal. His accent thickens, each word dripping slow as syrup, artificially sweet. "Gotcha all laid out pretty...just how I like ya."

You whimper, twisting helplessly, but he just chuckles deep in his chest, the sound vibrating against your ribs.

And then he goes still.

For one terrible, breathless second, he freezes—nostrils flaring, whiffing deeply, body tense as a drawn bowstring.

His gaze drops between your legs—to where your petticoat is soaked through, a dark, spreading stain betraying you to the night.

The change is instant.

A groan tears from his throat—raw, guttural, almost pained—and when his eyes meet yours again, they're molten red, desperate, devouring.

"God Almighty," he rasps, voice cracking like dry kindling. "Ain't nothin' in this world sweeter than a bleedin' cunt."

You sob, humiliated, terrified, as he shifts lower, his body dragging down over yours.

One hand shoves your thighs apart—roughly, possessively—while the other pins your wrists like shackles above your head.

"You don’t even know," he murmurs, almost tender, mouth ghosting over your inner thigh, his breath scorching hot, even in Delta’s sweltering humidity. "Don't even know what you’re doin' to me, sweet pea."

You can feel it now—his mouth, open and panting against the sensitive skin of your thigh, the tremble in his hands as he fights the urge to tear you open like a cat stretched over a fresh kill.

He presses his face against you, inhaling, low and deep, the sound of it filthy in the night.

And then—

He licks.

Long, slow, obscene—dragging his tongue up the seam of your cunt through the blood-slick cotton, a helpless whimper shuddering out of you before you can stop it.

He growls in response—a sound of such raw, savage pleasure you feel it bone-deep.

"That's it," he croons against you, dragging his mouth over you again, harder now, more desperate. "Let me taste it, baby...let me drink ya down."

You shake your head weakly, gasping, tears kissing along your water lines, vision blurry.

He only laughs —low and delighted—and tears the soiled remains of your petticoat aside with a quick, brutal rip of fabric.

And then there’s nothing between you.

Nothing but blood, skin, and his appetite.

Your thighs quake against the rough spread of his hands as he forces you open wider, his breath scorching hot against the most vulnerable parts of you, the parts that have never known a man's touch.

For a moment, he just stares—a low, reverent rumble building in his chest, vibrating through the muggy, blood-heavy air.

You choke on a sob, trying to squirm away, but his fingers dig bruises into your thighs.

"Nuh-uh, sugar," he murmurs, thick with amusement, the sharp scrape of his accent dragging down your spine like a blade. "You gone run enough."

You feel the shift—

Feel it deep in your marrow—

When he leans in and lets his mouth part against you.

A soft, wet, sinful sound fills the air as he licks—

And not just with any tongue.

When he drags it up your slit, you feel it—the unnatural split, the way the forked ends flick and curl separately, tracing obscene patterns through the slick, blood-slick folds of your cunt.

Your whole body seizes, a ragged, fragmented noise spilling from your throat.

He hums low—pleased, greedy—and licks again, slower this time, letting the twin points of his tongue tease your clit, your opening, flickering back and forth in a rhythm that makes your back arch high against the dirt.

"Mmm," he groans into you, nosing deeper, breathing you in like he means to fill his lungs with nothing but your scent. "Ain't never had a taste so fine. Like honey drippin' straight from the comb."

Tears streak from the corners of your eyes and down your temples, hot and shameful. You wrench your wrists uselessly against his grip, but he just pins you harder, his hand tightening like an iron shackle around your wrists.

He pulls back—just enough for you to see the blood slicking his lips, his chin—

And the red gleam of his eyes as he smiles, wide and mean.

"You wanna know what I was fixin' t' do t' ya?" he drawls, voice syrupy slow, full of wickedness. "When I caught ya runnin', I thought I'd rip that pretty lil' throat open. Watch ya bleed out all soft an' sweet beneath me."

You sob—broken, desperate.

His smile sharpens.

"Still might," he says, almost cheerfully, leaning back in, his nose nudging your clit so softly it makes your legs jerk. "If ya don't play real sweet for me, darlin'."

The implication settles heavy as stone in your gut—brutal, absolute.

Be good.

Or be dead.

You nod, trembling so hard your teeth chatter.

He croons a soft, pleased sound, rubbing his cheek against your inner thigh like a cat marking its prize.

"That's my girl," he says, thick and low, tongue flickering out to taste you again—slower now, more savoring. "Gonna treat ya real nice if ya stay still f'me."

You do.

You have no choice.

And he devours you.

The twin forks of his tongue work you open mercilessly—teasing, dipping, thrusting, flicking over the swollen nub of your clit in relentless, devastating licks. The sensation is too much—too sharp, too wet, too filthy—and you sob against the onslaught, your hips bucking helplessly beneath his iron grip.

He groans against you—filthy, hungry—and the vibrations make your vision white out at the edges.

"You taste like a blessin'," he mutters into your cunt, grinding the words into your skin with his mouth. "Sweet lil' Sunday sacrament, all laid out f'me t' worship."

You gasp, legs trembling violently, as the first orgasm builds—fast and brutal, cresting through you with the same merciless inevitability as the hunter pressing you down into the dirt, refusing to let up.

You don't want it.

You don't want it.

You can't want it.

But your body betrays you—spasming against his mouth, a shuddering cry breaking loose from your throat as you come, helpless and raw, against the wickedly incessant flicker of his tongue.

He moans as if your climax is the answer to damnation.

When you finally sag against the ground, limp and wrecked, he rises up over you—his mouth and chin slick with blood and slickness, his chest heaving, his cock straining hard against the rough denim of his trousers.

And for the first time—

There’s something in his face that’s not just hunger.

Something softer—

Something almost awed.

"Didn't think," he says roughly, almost to himself, "you'd be this damn sweet."

He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours—a rough, possessive, almost tender gesture.

"Ain't lettin' ya go now, sweet pea," he whispers, voice cracking like a prayer. "Ain't never lettin' go."

His hands trail down your body—calloused, devout—and you realize with a sick, fluttering horror that he’s not finished.

Not by a long shot.

He’s only just getting started.

You’re barely aware of him moving—too dazed, too wrecked—until the earth suddenly tilts wildly beneath you.

He rises to his feet in one smooth, terrifying motion, hauling your limp body up like you weigh nothing at all. His arms lock around your thighs, hoisting you over his broad shoulder, your face bouncing helplessly against the curve of his back.

The rough weave of his shirt scrapes your muddied cheek, damp with sweat and the humid Mississippi night. His scent floods your nose—salt and soil, blood and musk, something darker, wilder, something inhuman.

You whimper—too weak to fight—as his hand slaps possessively against the back of your thigh, holding you steady like a trophy kill.

"Shhh," he croons, his voice a low rumble vibrating straight through the very marrow of your bones. "Ain't no good wigglin', sweet pea. Y'belong t' me now."

Your fingers scrabble weakly against his shirt, nails catching on the coarse fabric, but he just laughs—a low, satisfied growl that rolls through the mist like thunder.

He starts walking—long, lazy strides deeper into the woods—further from the safety of town, further from anyone who could possibly hear you scream.

The trees lean in overhead, their gnarled branches clawing at the blood-colored sky, the cry of the cicadas like a chaotic choir, being taken deeper into the ugly underbelly of the forest.

The swamp breathes heavy and wet around you, the thick reek of stagnant water and moss closing over you like a suffocating shroud.

You can't see where he's taking you.

You can barely think.

Only feel—the slow, relentless sway of his body, the iron strength of his arms locking you in place as you look at the passing blur of gnarled foliage and plant litter every which way you twist your neck.

And his voice—

Low, filthy, almost tender—

Whispering promises against the slope of your thigh, each word branding itself into your skin.

"Gonna keep ya," he mutters, almost to himself. "Chain ya up nice 'n' sweet...keep ya all soft an' wet f'me...pretty lil' plaything, made jus' fer me."

You sob quietly, the sound muffled against his back, not that anything other than things that go bump in the night would hear anyways.

He doesn't stop.

Doesn't waver.

Just keeps carrying you deeper and deeper into the black heart of the woods, where no one will ever find you.

Where you’ll be his.

Body and soul.

Whether you want to be or not.

The world sways sickeningly with every step he takes.

Your body hangs limp over his shoulder, the thin fabric of your torn dress sticking to your skin, soaked through with sweat, blood, and the sticky breath of the Delta night. Every time he shifts you higher, the calloused drag of his palm across the backs of your thighs sends a tremor through your aching muscles.

The woods are different here.

Deeper.

Darker.

The trees older, skeletal and gnarled, twisted into shapes that look unnaturally human in the bloody moonlight, the knots in the bark large and gaping like mouths frozen mid-scream. The air thickens, heavy with the reek of standing water, mold, the cloying sweetness of rotting flowers.

You choke on it—each breath a struggle, sticky and wet in your throat.

He walks without hurry, the heavy tread of his boots sinking into the soft, muddy earth. The mist clings low around his legs, swallowing the ground whole. Crickets scream somewhere in the black, distant and frantic, but otherwise the world is eerily, horribly still.

You try to lift your head, try to see, but it only makes your vision tilt crazily, a low moan of sickness rising from your gut, feeling the bile trying to crawl up your esophagus.

He chuckles—low and knowing.

"Easy, lil' thing," he drawls, one broad hand stroking up the back of your thigh like a man soothing a spooked filly. "Ain't no sense gettin' y'self all riled."

His bloody fingers trail higher—under the torn remains of your petticoat, brushing the damp, sticky mess between your thighs. He hums, pleased.

"Still drippin'," he mutters almost to himself. "Still sweet."

The mist parts ahead like a curtain—and then you see it.

The chapel.

Or what's left of it.

A crumbling ruin of warped wood and sagging stone, half-swallowed by ivy and moss. The windows are shattered, jagged teeth of stained glass glinting in the blood moon's light. The steeple leans drunkenly to one side, bells long since stolen or fallen.

It should have been abandoned.

It was abandoned.

But now—

It breathes.

The mist coils around its dirty white skeleton, hugging it tight, the trees bending low like penitents around a grave.

He shoulders through the warped doors, boots echoing hollowly against the splintered floorboards. The air inside is thick—choking with mildew, smoke, old blood, the slow, sweet rot of something long dead, something long past salvation.

He carries you down the nave like a groom bearing a bride—if the groom were a wolf and the bride a carcass.

In the very center of the chapel, where once an altar might have stood, there’s only a low, crude bed—little more than a frame of old wood lashed together with vines and rope, a soiled mattress bowed low in the middle. Chains dangle from the bedposts, dark with rust, heavy enough to hold an ox.

Your heart stutters against your ribs.

He stops at the edge of the bed and lets you slide from his shoulder like a sack of grain, dropping you onto the mattress with a grunt. The springs wheeze under your weight. You scramble weakly, trying to push yourself up, but he just watches—arms folded, a slow, wicked grin playing at the corners of his bloody mouth.

"Look atcha," he says, voice dripping slow and fond. "All scared and pretty."

You whimper, trying to scoot back—away from him, away from the bed, away from the chains meant to shackle you to the floor. To him.

He lets you.

For a second.

Then he moves—faster than you can track—grabbing your ankle and yanking you back down the mattress with a savage jerk that knocks the breath from your lungs, chuckling low and mean under his breath, smiling like a predator playing with its food.

He looms over you—all broad shoulders and hungry red eyes, his chest heaving, his hair sweaty and sticking to his face. The crumbling roof of the chapel overhead caved in like a skylight created by time and erosion, the moonlight streaming in creating a bloody halo behind his head.

You kick out at him, weak and feeble. He catches your other ankle, spreads your legs wide with ease, and pins them to the bed.

"Y'know," he says thoughtfully, almost conversational, "I ain't never done this before."

You stare up at him, wide-eyed, chest heaving.

"Usually," he drawls, slow and deliberate, your blood dark and drying to his jaw, teeth sharp and daggered like the canines of a beast. "I catch my prey...an' I tear it open. Bleed it dry. Toss what's left t' the buzzards."

His hands slide up your calves, over your knees, rough palms mapping the shivering muscle of your thighs.

"But you..."

His grin widens, sharp and wicked.

"You got somethin' special in ya, sugar. Somethin' sweet. Somethin’ addictin’.”

His hands move higher, pushing the torn hem of your dress up around your hips.

"Gonna make a pet outta you," he murmurs, almost worshipful. "Gonna keep ya chained up nice and proper. Keep ya fed, keep ya warm...keep ya wet and loose."

You sob, twisting against the hold he has on your legs, but it only makes him chuckle low in his throat.

"Not just a meal, no sir," he says, voice thick with something like wonder. "Ain't never turned a meal inta a pet before."

He leans down, his mouth brushing your ear, his breath hot and damp and hungry.

"Gonna fuck ya every which way," he whispers, each word sinking into your flesh like thorns pricking your skin. "Gonna break ya in nice and slow. Make ya forget y'ever had a name b'fore me."

You shake your head, tears spilling over.

He just laughs—low and delighted—and kisses your temple, obscene in its mockery of tenderness.

"You'll see," he croons. "Ain't nothin' sweeter than bein' wanted, sweet pea. Nothin' sweeter than bein' kept and cared for.”

He shifts, reaching for the chains.

You hear the clatter of iron against wood, the heavy clink of rusted links.

Your blood goes cold.

You realize—

This isn't a nightmare you can wake from.

This is your life now.

Your body.

Your blood.

Your soul.

All belonging to him.

And the monster smiles.

The chains rattle in his fists, thick and rust-bitten, heavy enough to feel like fate.

You kick again, heart thundering in your chest, but it’s nothing against him.

He grabs your wrist with one hand, slamming it down against the splintered wood of the bed frame. The iron cuff closes around your wrist with a brutal finality, locking tight with a groaning snap of the old metal.

You cry out—a broken, pitiful sound that nothing but the cicadas will hear.

He shushes you—a low, almost tender croon—as he grabs your other arm, dragging it above your head and shackling it too.

The chains clink as you struggle, the cold bite of them against your bruised skin making you tremble harder.

"There we go," he murmurs, stepping back to admire his work, red eyes gleaming under the dripping shadows of the ruined chapel. "All trussed up like a good lil' prize hog."

You sob again, humiliated, terrified—but he only grins, predatory and bright, his chest rising and falling with heavy, panting breaths.

Slowly, leisurely, he kneels over you.

His hands trail down your body—dirty palms leaving streaks of blood, sweat, and swamp filth over the ruined silk of your dress. He hooks his fingers into the ripped neckline and tears—a wet, brutal sound of fabric giving way.

Your dress peels open like fruit skin, baring your chest to the swamp-choked air.

He makes a sound then—not quite a growl, not quite a groan—something broken and devout.

"Goddamn," he breathes, one palm spanning your ribs, feeling your heart rabbit helplessly beneath the thin shell of bone and skin. "Y'look sweeter 'n a sunrise after the flood."

His thumb brushes one nipple, watching it harden instantly under the humid chill.

You try to twist away—shame burning hotter than the blood in your veins—but the chains rattle uselessly, locking you in place.

He chuckles, low and dark.

"Ain't no hidin' from me, sugar," he says, rough and sweet, dragging his knuckles down your trembling belly. "Ain't no shame neither. Y'was made fer this. Made fer me."

His hands find the bunched remains of your petticoat around your hips.

Slowly—cruelly slow—he tears the rest away.

Until you're laid bare before him.

Blood-slick, shaking, eyes wide and wet.

He stares at you for a long moment—drinking in the sight of you like a starving man at a banquet that hasn't been permitted to feast yet.

You can feel the weight of his gaze—heavy and hungry.

"Mmm," he hums deep in his throat.

"Prettiest lil' pet I ever seen."

He palms your thighs, rough thumbs pressing bruises into the soft flesh as he pushes your legs open wider.

You sob—mortified, helpless—but it only seems to please him more.

"Lookit that," he murmurs, dipping his head down, close enough that his breath fans hot across your cunt. "Still bleedin'...still so damn sweet."

And then—

The flicker of heat—

The twin points of his forked tongue lash out, slick and obscene, stroking along the weeping seam of your cunt.

You gasp—body jolting violently against the chains—a sharp, helpless cry tearing from your throat.

He groans deep, low and guttural, as he licks again—slow, deliberate—tasting the blood and slick pooling between your thighs.

He moves with maddening patience—the split tips of his tongue teasing either side of your clit, circling, flicking, taunting.

"You hear that?" he mutters thickly, rubbing his mouth over your cunt, tongue dragging up every inch of you. "Hear how messy y'are f'me, sugar?"

You can't answer.

You're beyond answering.

Your thighs quiver against his shoulders, muscles locking and spasming as he devours you—slow, relentless, merciless.

He pulls back only long enough to watch you squirm—your face flushed, your lips trembling, your hips jerking up helplessly as if chasing the wicked flick of his tongue.

"Poor thing," he croons, mock-sweet. "Y'bleedin', cryin', achin'...and ya still openin' them pretty legs f'me."

He laughs—low and pleased—and dives back in, feasting like a man who'd been starved for a hundred years.

You can already feel yourself unraveling—

Can feel it building again—

That terrible, traitorous heat coiling low in your belly, shame burning so brightly it tastes like iron on your tongue.

He tongues you deeper, forked tongue writhing against your soaked, blood-slick entrance, and you sob, straining against the chains as your body gives in.

You come—

Harder than before—

Your cunt clenching helplessly around nothing, your blood and slick gushing against his mouth.

He groans, hips grinding into the bed, rutting against the mattress like he can't stand it, like the taste of you is killing him.

He pulls back, panting hard, mouth and chin dripping in a fresh coat of crimson.

When he looks at you—

It's not just hunger.

It's possession.

"That's it, baby," he rasps, voice raw, shredded with want. "Give it all t' me. Ain't gonna leave nothin' behind."

You whimper brokenly, chains rattling as you pull uselessly at your bonds.

And then—

You see it.

Him undoing his belt.

The clink of metal, the low rasp of fabric sliding down heavy thighs.

His cock springs free—thick, veined, flushed red—already weeping at the tip.

Your mouth goes dry with terror.

He crawls up the bed like a predator stalking wounded prey, his glowing eyes locked on you, his smile wide and merciless.

"Gonna claim ya proper now, sugar," he says, his voice low and trembling with barely-restrained hunger. "Gonna fuck ya bloody, fuck ya dumb...make ya forget the whole damn world 'cept me."

You sob, head thrashing weakly against the mattress.

He just laughs—low, light, loving—as he fits the head of his cock against your slick cunt.

And pushes in.

The first push of him inside you is a shock—

Stretching, burning, splitting you apart on the thick, heavy drag of his shaft.

You sob, twisting against the chains, but he just groans guttural and filthy, shoving deeper with a slow, brutal roll of his hips that forces your body to open up for him.

"There we go," he pants, sweat dripping from his brow to your heaving chest. "Takin' me real sweet, ain't ya, darlin'?"

The stretch feels endless, unbearable—every ridge and vein of him dragging against blood-slick, swollen flesh.

Your body tries to resist, clenching tight, but he's relentless—grinding deeper, forcing himself past the trembling, fluttering grip of your cunt.

"You fightin' me," he groans, voice ragged with pleasure, "but ya can't stop it, can ya? Body knows. Body knows who owns it now."

Tears spill from your eyes, hot and helpless.

The chains rattle with every shuddering breath you take.

He leans down, pressing his forehead against yours, his skin sweaty and warm same as yours, trapping you together in the sticky, blood-sweet air.

"Y'made fer this," he whispers, voice breaking on the edges of worship. "Made fer me."

With a slow, grinding thrust, he bottoms out—buried to the hilt, your body stretched taut around him, trembling with the effort to contain him.

He doesn't move at first.

Just breathes—hard, shuddering—his cock pulsing hot inside you, his hands gripping your hips so tight you know you'll wear the bruises for days.

"Sweetest cunt I ever had," he murmurs, almost dazed, rolling his hips just enough to grind against the blood-slick walls of your cunt. "Sweetest thing I ever tasted."

You whimper, wrecked, overwhelmed.

He starts to move—slow at first, almost lazy, dragging his cock nearly all the way out before slamming back in with a wet, obscene slap of skin on skin.

The bedframe groans under the force of it. The chains rattle. The chapel breathes with the rhythm of it—an old, rotted cathedral witnessing your ruin.

He keeps his forehead pressed to yours, breath coming hot and ragged between clenched fangs.

"Fuck," he snarls, thrusting harder, grinding deep. "Ain't never...fuckin'...lettin' you go, sugar."

Each word is punctuated by a savage snap of his hips, driving you higher up the mattress, making the iron cuffs bite deeper into your bruised wrists.

Your world narrows to the brutal stretch of him inside you, the thick heat of his body pinning you down, the filthy grind of his cock dragging more slick, more blood from your battered cunt.

He groans again—a raw, broken sound—and pulls back to stare down at where your bodies meet.

Blood coats his cock, painting the base of it slick and glistening in the crimson moonlight.

He growls—a deep, vibrating sound—and slams in harder, hips jerking.

"Bleedin' all f'me," he mutters, awe bleeding into the filthy cadence of his voice. "Markin' me proper. Good lil' bitch, lettin' me ruin ya."

You sob—don't know if it's from the pain, the shame, the unbearable rush of something darker pooling low in your belly.

He leans in, dragging his split tongue up your throat—slow, languid—tasting the salt of your skin.

"Gonna fill ya up," he rasps, thrusting harder now, the rhythm getting ragged, desperate. "Breed ya good. Chain ya to this bed and fuck ya full every night till y'don't know nothin' but my cock."

Your hips jerk helplessly against him, legs trembling, blood and slick dripping down your thighs onto the ruined mattress.

He bites down suddenly—not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to bruise—right over the frantic pulse at your throat.

You keen—a high, broken noise—and the orgasm hits you like a lightning strike.

Your cunt clamps down around him, spasming violently, drawing a raw, broken snarl from his chest.

"That's it," he growls, fucking you through it, his cock thickening even more inside you. "That's it, dove, milk it. Milk it good."

You come undone—

Body locking, heart hammering, chains rattling—

As he drives you through wave after wave of brutal, bloody pleasure.

His rhythm falters—

Hitches—

And with a hoarse snarl, he slams deep one last time.

You feel it—

The hot, thick flood of him spilling inside you—

Coating your walls, mixing with the blood already slicking your thighs.

He stays buried deep—panting, shaking, his arms trembling where they cage you in.

For a long moment, the only sound in the chapel is the labored, broken gasps of breath—his and yours, tangled together in the hot, heavy dark.

He nuzzles into your throat, murmuring low, senseless things against your skin.

"My girl," he breathes, over and over, as if trying to convince himself. "My sweet girl."

You lie limp beneath him—wrecked, used, ruined—your body claimed in every way it can be claimed.

And somewhere—

Buried under the terror, the humiliation—

A dark, terrible heat begins to flicker in your chest.

You're his now.

There’s no going back.

And the monster—

The one you were warned about—

Whispers that maybe, just maybe—you don’t want to.

The world feels soft and hazy when he finally moves.

You’re barely aware of it—just a weak, blood-warm ache where your legs sprawl open, your wrists burning raw from the chains. Every nerve ending feels stretched thin, humming with the aftershocks of being wrecked and claimed and ruined.

He shifts over you—his cock sliding free with a wet, filthy sound that makes you flinch—and you feel the thick, sticky mess of blood and come seeping down your thighs.

You whimper weakly, body too used up to fight.

But instead of leaving you—instead of walking away like the monster you thought he was—

He stays.

He kneels between your ruined thighs, the broken mattress sagging beneath his weight, and for a moment he just looks at you—head cocked, hair wild and dripping sweat, red eyes burning.

Something like awe flickers across his face.

"Sweet lil' mess," he murmurs, voice thick, almost tender.

One large, calloused hand cups your knee—thumb stroking slow, idle circles into your bruised skin—as he leans in.

You feel the first press of his tongue before you can even gasp.

He drags that wicked, forked tongue up the inside of your thigh again, lapping at the blood and slick smeared there like it’s the finest ambrosia.

He groans deep in his chest, his hands tightening on your trembling legs to hold you wide open for him.

You sob—broken, humiliated—but he just keeps licking, slow and steady, cleaning you up like a beast grooming his mate.

"Can't waste none of it," he mutters between licks, his breath damp against your skin. "Every drop...mine."

You twitch beneath him, wrists jerking weakly against the chains, but there’s no strength left in you.

There’s no fight left at all.

He licks higher—over the tender, battered folds of your cunt—gathering the mixture of blood and seed with obscene thoroughness, his tongue darting deep, savoring every taste.

You shudder violently, a broken whimper escaping your throat.

He shushes you again—so softly, so lovingly it makes your heart twist.

"Easy, sweet pea," he croons against your skin. "Ain't hurtin' ya now. Jus' takin' what's mine."

His tongue splits and flicks, teasing your clit, making your hips jolt despite yourself.

"That's it," he murmurs, smiling against you. "That's my good girl."

When he’s satisfied—when every drop of blood, every smear of slick has been licked from your trembling body—

He pulls back, wiping his mouth lazily with the back of his hand.

He looks down at you sprawled out on the soiled mattress—swollen wrists chained, thighs open, skin sticky with sweat and tears—and his smile softens.

"Pretty lil' thing," he murmurs, reaching out to thumb the tear tracks from your cheeks. "Took it so good. Knew ya would."

You try to flinch away from his touch, but it’s pathetic—a trembling, fragmented twitch.

He hums low in his throat, pleased.

Slowly, purposefully, he reaches for the shackles binding your wrists.

For a sick, dizzy second, you think he’s going to tighten them—punish you for even thinking of pulling away.

But instead—

You hear the click of old iron locks giving way.

The weight of the cuffs falls from your wrists, leaving raw, angry bands of flesh behind.

You sag back against the mattress like a puddle of liquid bones and flesh, too stunned, too hollowed out to move.

He watches you for a moment—head tilted, red eyes gleaming—like a man admiring the final brushstroke of a masterpiece.

Then he moves.

He scoops you up with terrifying ease—one hand under your knees, the other cradling your back—lifting you like you're weightless.

You make a weak, pitiful sound against his chest, but he just hushes you—soft and sweet—pressing a rough kiss to the crown of your filthy, sweat-drenched hair.

"Shhh, baby," he croons. "Ain't gonna hurtcha. Ain't gotta run no more."

He carries you to the far corner of the chapel—to a weathered old pew tucked into the shadows—and settles down onto it, shifting you into his lap like you belong there.

Your thighs straddle his hips, your chest crushed against his filthy shirt, your legs dangling uselessly on either side of his body.

He rocks you—nice and easy—the way a man might rock a newborn calf.

And all the while, he talks.

Low, sweet, steady.

"Got a place fer ya," he murmurs into your hair. "Back in the bayou. Little cabin where nobody'll never find ya."

His hands roam lazily over your battered body—soothing, petting, possessive.

"Got a bed there," he goes on, voice almost dreamy. "Big enough to tie ya spread-eagle. Big enough t' keep ya wet and ready all the time."

You shudder in his lap—a broken, helpless thing—but he just rocks you harder, nuzzling into your neck.

"Teach ya how t' live on nothin' but my cock and my seed," he whispers. "Keep ya full, keep ya heavy...make ya forget the whole damn world but me."

You sob softly against his chest.

He smiles against your hair.

"That's it," he croons. "That's my sweet girl."

His hand slides between your thighs again—unhurried, filthy—and cups the used, swollen heat of your cunt, thumb stroking lazy circles into the mess he left behind.

You twitch helplessly in his lap.

"Always knew I'd find somethin' special out here," he mutters, more to himself than to you. "Didn't reckon I'd find my forever meal...my lil' blood-slick pet."

He presses his mouth to your temple—a kiss, obscene in its tenderness.

"Mine now," he whispers. "Mine 'til the river runs dry."

The chapel groans around you—old wood settling, whispering, watching—as he rocks you slowly in his lap.

You’re weightless against him.

Soft.

Malleable.

The chains are gone, but you’re no freer than you were before.

Your body has surrendered.

Your mind—

God help you—isn't far behind.

He hums low under his breath, a tuneless, lazy thing—some old hymn twisted into something darker. Something damned.

His hands roam over you without hurry—stroking your bruised thighs, cupping the raw stretch of your hips, smoothing down the arch of your spine.

One of his palms cups the back of your head, pushing your face against his chest, holding you there like a possession too precious to lose.

"You feel it, don'tcha," he murmurs against your hair. "Way y'body melts into mine. Way y'cunt still pulses f'me even now."

You whimper—soft and splintered—and he smiles, wide and slow.

"Don't fight it, sugar," he says, low and coaxing. "Ain't nothin' left but me now."

You feel the slow, lazy roll of his hips beneath you—the thick, heavy press of his cock, still slick and blood-warm, nudging insistently between your thighs again.

You sob weakly, your body jerking against his.

But it’s useless.

Inevitable.

He shifts you higher, lining himself up, one broad hand guiding your hips as he pushes back inside—slow, deep, claiming.

You choke on a whimper, trembling violently in his lap as he fills you again—stretching your battered, blood-slick cunt to the limit.

"There we go," he croons. "There she is."

He rocks you on his cock—gradual, thick, obscene—grinding deep with each lazy roll of his hips, never pulling out, never letting you escape the feel of him inside you.

His mouth finds your ear, breath hot and heavy.

"Y'ain't even know my name yet," he murmurs, almost laughing. "Been takin' ya, ruinin' ya, bleedin' ya dry...and you don't even know what t' call me."

You shudder helplessly against him.

He presses a kiss to the hinge of your jaw—filthy, tender.

"Remmick," he breathes.

"That's what ya call me, sugar."

Another slow grind of his hips—another thick, aching thrust deep inside your ruined cunt.

"Say it," he whispers, voice breaking sweet and sharp against your skin. "Say my name."

You sob—mind reeling, body burning—but the word tumbles out of you like a rejected prayer.

"Remmick."

He groans, raw and reverent, and rocks you harder, the weathered pew creaking beneath the slow, punishing grind of his body.

"Good girl," he pants, forehead pressing to yours. "Sweet lil' thing...mine now. Mine forever."

He kisses you then—

A brutal, clumsy thing—

Mouth crushed against yours, tasting of blood and salt and something older. Something primordial.

You sob into the kiss, legs trembling against his hips, your body clinging to him without thinking, without reason.

Remmick smiles against your mouth.

"That's it," he murmurs. "Ain't no runnin' now. Ain't no leavin'."

He rocks you again—slow, deep—every thrust branding you, sinking you deeper under his spell.

"You got my name now," he whispers, voice thick with triumph and devotion. "And soon enough, baby...you gonna carry the rest of me too."

His hand slides down, splaying wide over your lower belly—

Possessive, filthy, promising.

"You gonna carry me inside ya, sweet pea," he breathes, voice almost shaking. "Gonna grow fat an' heavy with me...my blood, my seed, my babies."

You sob against his chest—wrecked, overwhelmed—as he rocks you through it, slow and relentless, every movement carving your fate deeper into your body.

And Remmick—

The monster, the devil, the man—

Just holds you tighter, crooning low and filthy against your skin.

"My girl," he whispers. "My sweet, bleedin' girl."

The slow grind of him inside you never stops.

Remmick rocks you lazily in his lap—the pew creaking under the weight of his possession—each slow thrust pushing you deeper under, erasing everything but the burn and the stretch and the unbearable, filthy tenderness of him.

Your head lolls against his shoulder, sweat-soaked hair sticking to your temples, every nerve frayed to a live wire.

He strokes your back in long, rough sweeps—the calluses of his palms rasping over every bruise, every bite mark, every blood-smeared inch of you.

"You feel it, don'tcha, sugar," he breathes into your ear, voice sweet and sticky as syrup. "The way yer body listens to me now. Way it wants me even when you don't."

You sob weakly, too broken to deny it.

His arms tighten around you—one locked around your back, the other spreading wide over your hips, guiding you up and down the thick, blood-slick length of his cock.

"You was made fer this," he murmurs, his breath hot and humid against your skin. "Made t'be mine. Made t'be fucked full, bred fat, kept warm an' wet in my bed."

He rocks you harder—deeper—the swollen head of his cock grinding up against that raw, aching place inside you, making your whole body jolt and shudder helplessly.

Your wrists curl weakly against his chest, the instinct to cling overpowering even your fear.

Remmick hums low, satisfied.

"Good girl," he praises, voice rough and ragged. "Good lil' thing, clingin' so sweet."

He kisses the side of your throat—a slow, open-mouthed drag of lips and teeth—and you feel him smiling against your pulse.

And then his voice drops lower—softer, darker—as he begins to whisper.

"But if y'ever think about runnin'..." he murmurs, rocking you a little harder, his cock dragging thick and slow inside your cunt, "if y'ever try t'leave me, lil’ hare...I'll hunt ya down."

You shudder violently in his arms.

"I'll drag ya screamin' back by that sweet lil' ankle," he whispers, almost lovingly. "Chain ya tighter. Fuck ya harder. Make sure next time ya can't even walk."

You sob—broken, breathless.

He kisses your ear, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt of your tears.

"Maybe I'll break that pretty lil' ankle," he muses, his voice so soft it’s almost a lullaby. "Keep ya bed-bound...keep ya needy...make ya beg for me t'feed ya, to fuck ya, to touch ya."

You whimper, hips jerking against him without meaning to.

Remmick groans low in his chest, thrusting up deeper inside you.

"You'd look so pretty like that," he pants. "All bruised up an' cryin'...beggin' me to keep fillin' this sweet lil' cunt."

His hand slides between your bodies, thumb finding your clit—swollen, aching, blood-slick—and starts to rub slow, relentless circles.

You gasp, high and needy, clutching at him, legs trembling where they sprawl weakly around his hips.

"That's it," he breathes, rocking you harder now, rubbing you faster. "Cum f'me, sugar. Milk me good. Show me who ya belong to."

You sob, mind fracturing under the thick, unbearable pleasure—under the dirty, endless tenderness of his voice—under the awful, overwhelming rightness of it.

Your orgasm slams into you—sharp, brutal, dizzying—your whole body clenching down around him, sobbing his name against his throat.

Remmick groans, burying his cock deep one last time, grinding slow and thick against the fluttering spasms of your cunt.

"That's my girl," he whispers, voice cracked and worshipful. "My sweet, bleedin' girl. Mine."

He holds you through it—rocking you gently, slowly—cooing filthy promises against your skin.

"Never lettin' ya go," he breathes, voice drunk with possession. "Never."

And you know—

With a dark, shattered certainty —

That he’s telling the truth.

Your body trembles in his lap—used, slick, overflowing—and still, Remmick doesn’t stop.

Still buried deep inside you, he rocks you lazily—thick, slow drags of his cock against your raw, battered walls, the wet, messy sound of it filling the ruined chapel.

You whimper, limp and broken against his chest.

He shushes you, petting your hair, pressing kisses to your temple, your jaw, your throat.

"That's it, sweet pea," he praises. "Just keep takin' it. Keep takin' me."

His hips move slower now—deep, grinding thrusts that make you feel every vein, every throb of him inside you.

You sob weakly when you feel the telltale pulse of his cock thickening again—feel the way he holds you tighter, groaning low in your ear.

"Poor thing," he breathes, voice shaking with hunger and something darker, deeper. "Ain't built t'keep up, are ya?"

He rocks you harder, the sticky, bloody mess of your body clinging wetly to him.

His mouth finds your ear again—voice low, filthy, almost laughing.

"Y'know why?" he whispers. "Y'know why ya break so easy f'me, sugar?"

You whimper, unable to answer, unable to think.

He licks the shell of your ear—slow, lazy—before speaking again.

"'Cause I ain't no man, sweet thing," he says, voice rich with wicked delight. "Ain't no mortal that tires out an' falls asleep after one fuck."

He grinds deeper—hips jerking, cock twitching inside you.

"A demon’s stamina," he murmurs, "ain't like a man's."

You shudder violently in his arms.

"I can do this," he breathes, voice low and full of terrible promise, "forever."

He thrusts again—slow, heavy, final—and you feel it.

Feel the thick, molten flood of him spilling inside you again—hotter, heavier than before, painting your ruined cunt, seeping out around his cock.

Remmick groans low, deep in his chest—a sound full of brutal satisfaction.

He holds you there—stuffed full, pinned tight—grinding the mess deeper with lazy, possessive rolls of his hips.

"There we go," he murmurs against your throat. "Fill ya up good. Mark ya so deep ya gonna leak me out fer days."

You sob, a broken little sound that only makes him hum in pleasure.

He strokes your hair, your back, rocking you gently in the wreckage of the chapel.

"You're mine now," he whispers. "Ain't no priest, no preacher, no god up there that can take ya from me."

He kisses your temple—filthy, loving.

"Belong t' me, sweet lil' thing," he breathes. "My pet. My meal. My mate."

You lie limp in his lap, broken open, owned.

And you realize—with a dark, awful clarity—that you don't even want to run anymore.

You belong here.

With him.

Forever.

And the monster—

The demon—

Your Remmick—

Rocks you slowly into the night, crooning sweet, filthy promises against your skin.

[snail-day]

Poor Satoru doesn’t know what to do with himself when you get like this.

When you're too sleepy and too stressed to play with him, when your eyes are heavy and your voice is sharp, snapping out little “not now”s and “please, Satoru”s that sting far more than you'd ever intend. He knows it’s not about him. He knows. But still.

He stands there awkwardly at the edge of the bed, fingers twitching at his sides, his usual brightness dulled into something quiet and anxious. You’re lying on your stomach, cheek pressed to the pillow, body still and closed off in a way that tells him you’ve hit your limit.

But he still needs to touch you. He has to.

“Is... is two finger touch okay?” he asks, voice unusually soft. Baby blues raking your body.

You don’t answer, not really. Just make a tiny noise, more exhale than anything. But it’s not a no.

So he climbs into bed with a surprising amount of gentleness. No attempts at disturbing your peace. And then he reaches out, dragging just two slender fingers down the curve of your spine. Featherlight. Barely there. Up and down. Up and down. Sometimes he traces your sides, and when you twitch or tense, he’s quick to shush you, soft, pink lips brushing your shoulder.

“I’m not gonna do anything,” he murmurs. “Just touching. Just this.”

Eventually, when you don’t push him away, he lets out a quiet breath and shifts. Lays down beside you - not quite beside, really. More like on you, curling his long frame to fit your back like a blanket. His cheek finds home against your lower back, arms tucked in as he breathes you in.

“I love you,” he whispers into the silence. “Even when you’re crabby. Even when you’re too tired to look at me. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He stays like that, still and soft, waiting. Waiting until you’re ready to turn around. Until your hand reaches back to tangle in his tousled white hair. Until you mumble that you're sorry, or maybe just press your face into his chest without saying a word.

He’ll wait forever, if that’s what it takes.

Because sure, he doesn’t like it when you’re cranky. But loving you means being close even when you can’t meet him halfway. And if this is all you’ll let him have for now - two fingers and a cheek pressed to your back- then he’ll take it, gratefully.

Because that’s still you. And Satoru doesn’t know how to be without you.

[cameronsbabydoll]

can we have rafe x shy reader ft. ward?

ward approves of reader as rafe's girlfriend but he's sneaking around his son's computer just to check if rafe is up to something suspicious

but all he discovers are hour-long videos of you guys fucking and he thought rafe is cheating because there's no way this woman in the video is the shy reader who blushes easily

bonus points if rafe looks like a sub in the clips 😋

a/n: i sorta made rafe a hard dom….

ward wasn’t trying to spy. not really. he just had a hunch.

rafe had been quiet lately—too quiet. smug. disappearing during dinners. getting snippy. and ever since he introduced you—all shy smiles and stuttered greetings—rafe had been on his best behavior, which was exactly why ward didn’t trust it.

so yeah. he waited until rafe went for a run. let himself into his son's room like it was nothing. sat down at the desk, cracked his knuckles, and clicked through the laptop. nothing at first. spreadsheets, music, boring financial crap—until he saw the folder.

“study notes,” it said. password protected.

ward rolled his eyes. like his son ever studied. a few minutes of trial-and-error (and one guess that was just “boobs”) later, he got in.

and what he found…

was not notes.

not unless rafe had started studying bondage.

the first video auto-played. low lighting. the edge of a bed. and moaning. soft, breathy, familiar moaning.

his eyes widened.

“no fuckin’ way.”

you. on your knees. mouth open, eyes glazed. tied up with pink silk rope, your wrists behind your back, body trembling with every gruff order rafe gave you.

"open wider, baby. yeah... just like that. don’t make me tell you again.”

and the worst part?

you looked like you loved it.

you—the girl who could barely look ward in the eye during dinner, who said “thank you, mr. cameron” like you were scared he’d bite—was now on screen with her legs shaking, cheeks wet from tears, begging rafe to let her come.

"p-please, sir, i’ll be good, i promise—"

ward slapped the laptop shut.

sat back. blinked.

whispered, to no one:

“he’s not cheating... holy hell, she’s a freak.”

[dannyriccsystem]

I love your writing!! Could you please do the drivers being soooo angry at the world and everyone’s scared to approach them but they’re soft for you(idk if that makes sense)

YOU MAKE ME FEEL LIKE SPRING HAS SPRUNG!

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS X READER

SUMMARY: When you’re the only one they can tolerate when they’re angry!

OVERALL W.C: 2.6k

WARNINGS: Mean drivers (soft with you), Y/N usage, not proofread

FEATURING: MV1, DR3, LN4, KA12, CL16, CS55, GR63, OP81

MAX VERSTAPPEN - MV1

When Max was mad, everyone in the paddock knew. After the outcome of the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, the air was undeniably tense. Your boyfriend was reasonably upset with his penalty— He didn’t want to deny and say it was unfair, because it wasn’t, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to be upset about it.

It didn’t help that the FIA had cornered him immediately afterwards and lectured him on his censorship. He could write four thousand paragraphs on that topic alone, but he didn’t need to get into it right now. The 2025 season had been undeniably shit for Max overall. With all the booing and the RedBull seat switching. It was a pain for everyone.

Everyone seemed to be walking on glass, unsure of how to approach the angry man, currently holding the title of 2024 champion. It was a lot to handle. The RB garage was scurrying around, trying to get things straight. Then you walked in.

One of the mechanics tried to warn you, but you brushed off the incessant complaining and walked right over to the Mad Max. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the surprise blow up, but it never came. He seemed to melt in his seat right then and there, staring up at you with such gentle eyes.

“Hi Max,” You whispered in that sweet voice he loved as you situated yourself to stand between his legs. He wrapped his arms around your waist, staring up at you.

“Lieverd,” He greeted, pressing a kiss to your clothed stomach. “Did you enjoy the race?” He asked it so casually, as if nothing was upsetting him and nothing went wrong. You were so capable of washing his concerns away, it astounded even Max.

“It was good, although a little frustrating.” Prying eyes figured now would be the time. You brought up his mistakes, so the only reasonable plan of action was to scold you like the mad man he was. But no, Max just chuckled and nodded.

“I know it better than anyone else.” You took a step back to let him stand up, his hand finding yours. “I’m just glad we get a week off now.” You both exited the garage, hand in hand. Meanwhile, the remaining staff members all locked eyes, unsure if anyone would believe them when they inevitably told the entire paddock about the astounding spectacle.

—

DANIEL RICCIARDO - DR3

It had been a really tough race for Daniel. He was typically a very positive and charismatic guy— Most people found that it was easy to love Danny, because no matter what happened, he tried to keep a positive attitude about it. This time was different.

He was approached by his engineer after his crash. Normally they’d discuss what went wrong, but instead, Danny brushed him off. He screamed in anger, clearly feeling immensely unsatisfied with his performance, as well as how the team was treating him.

You saw this. You saw him be angry and dismissive, but you approached anyway, because Danny needed you. You just knew it. Before he could even take his helmet off, you were standing before him. If you were anyone else, he might have shoved you aside or barked a comment at you, but instead he just pulled you into his arms, clinging to you tightly.

“Worst fucking race ever,” He’d mutter. He sounded harsh, but his voice was rid of malice. He slipped his helmet off and set it aside, allowing him to bury your face in your neck, inhaling your scent.

You ran your fingers through his curls, humming a low tune. “I’m still proud.” You could feel him smile against you. It was a seemingly slow process, but eventually his lips curved up into that grin you knew and loved. “It’s one bad performance out of many.”

“Yeah, I know.” He muttered, only audible to you. He was always like this, seeking comfort in your relaxing presence. When he pulled away, his hands were still upon your hip. “I think I’d be lost without you.”

“Glad you recognize that,” The two of you shared a laugh.

—

LANDO NORRIS - LN4

Lando had been pissed off all day. He showed up to the MTC in a bad mood, and it was very obvious to everyone. Nobody tried to ask why, because it seemed like every syllable directed towards him just put Lando in a worse mood.

He carried out the rest of the day feeling crappy. He didn’t seem to retain any of the information from the meetings, got nothing productive done, and ended up making them re-film a video for the Mclaren youtube channel like eight times. It was beginning to get uncomfortable for everyone else.

He was excused early, and told to go home and get some rest. When he arrived to the hotel you were both staying at, he still seemed fairly mad. He was just angry with the world, harboring a negative feeling from his performance at the last race.

Lando wanted nothing more than to scream and shout when he came back, but when he saw you lying on the bed looking so soft and sweet, it all melted away. You grinned at him, and for the first time all day he smiled back.

“It’s a little early, isn’t it?” You questioned with the tilt of your head. He didn’t answer, he just dived into the bed beside you, immediately encasing you in all his limbs. You laughed, your own arms finding his body immediately, and hugging him close.

“I missed you.” He finally spoke, his voice a whisper against your neck. He laid a few sloppy kisses there, just upon instinct.

“I missed you too.” You had never seen him behave in such a way. Lando was always somewhat clingy, but this was different. He seemed entirely dependent for a moment. Not that you were complaining.

You were just what he needed in that moment.

—

KIMI ANTONELLI - KA12

It was hard to imagine Kimi Antonelli truly angry. He seemed so happy most of the time, which is why it took everyone by surprise. Nothing should have angered him, either. He qualified quite high, especially for a rookie. But for some unknown reason, he was pissed.

The problem is, he had a hard time looking angry. He sort of just looked monotone from afar, but when anyone tried to talk to him, he’d get snappy and dismissive and the other person would eventually just leave him alone. It was weird. Even Ollie had trouble communicating with the guy.

“Kimi-” He heard your voice, and he immediately perked up. His head swiveled around the Mercedes garage, and his eyes immediately locked into you. You were talking with George, that sort of awed look on your face. He couldn’t hear the conversation, but he could assume it was about him.

When George finished talking you gave a confused look and shook your head, pushing past him. “Kimi you did great today!” Everyone watched, waiting to see what he would say. What sort of backhanded comment would he make this time? Hopefully someone had a tissue, he might even make you cry.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He had a boyish grin on his face, and he appeared somewhat dreamy as he stood up to greet you. He kissed your hand politely, and then both of your cheeks. “Did you see? I qualified P5!”

It was incredible. No anger, no disrespect, no snappy attitude.

“I did see! You’re doing so good this year.” Everyone claimed it was solely because of the team. He raced for Mercedes, of course he’d do good. Maybe that’s why he was upset, because whenever he received a compliment, it always seemed like it was directed towards the car rather than him.

But you… You were supporting him. He gave you a cheeky kiss on the lips, whispering in a soft giggle, “Grazie, cara mia…”

—

CHARLES LECLERC - CL16

The day had been especially rough for Charles. It was almost as if the whole world was pitted against him. The team strategies had been extra disappointed, he was continuously receiving hate for his performance, and the pit wall was being extra frustrating today. After the race, he seemed rigid and cold towards the rest of the team.

He stormed off to his drivers room, trying to seem as polite as physically possible when he was experiencing this sort of rage. He sat down on the sofa, burying his head in his hands. He felt like the next person he saw was going to end up getting decked in the face— Which was ironic, because soon after the thought crossed his mind, the door creaked open.

“What-” He spat out bitterly, but froze when he saw you. You looked surprised, mouth slightly agape. His demeanor melted away into something softer, his brows knitted together in an expression that was damn near pathetic. “Sorry, I didn’t know it was you.”

You carefully shut the door behind you, and then leaned back against it. It was silent for a moment, filled with comfortable eye contact as you let him adjust to your presence. He appreciated how understanding you always were. At times, Charles felt like he was taking you for granted.

“I know you’re upset,” You murmured quietly. You finally pushed away from the door and sat beside him, your shoulders brushing. He flinched at first, and then leaned his head over to rest on your shoulder. You hummed, following his lead and pressing your own head against his. “We don’t have to talk about it if you—”

“I don’t,” He spoke shortly and softly. You pursed your lips into a sad smile, nodding with understanding. “Thank you.” He shut his eyes, letting himself relax as he softened beside you.

—

CARLOS SAINZ - CS55

When you stepped foot into the Williams garage, you were faced with the unpleasantry of stares and quiet whispers. You glanced around yourself at the mechanics and other staff, who were acting rather shifty. It had never been like before; you were typically greeted with kindness, but right now you felt somewhat alienated.

You continued walking, brushing past the odd behavior, hoping that you weren’t the root of the problem. You figured Carlos was in his driver’s room, because he wasn’t present amongst the others. You put your hand on the door knob, but one of the mechanics rushed over to stop you.

“Wait-” They blurted out in a whisper-yell, waving their hands around. You froze, pulling your hand back as you pivoted, facing their direction. “Y/N, you probably don’t wanna go in there.”

This was starting to worry you. Your brain automatically jumped to the worst possible assumptions. “What? Why?” You questioned, looking uncertain as you began to reach for the handle once more. Was Carlos being unfaithful? These thoughts plagued your mind.

“He’s been super upset all day. Everyone’s made him angry.” They explained, shifting nervously. Your eyebrows furrowed as you hummed in thought. If Carlos was upset, you should be there for him.

“Thank you for the warning, but I can handle this.” You gave a polite smile, although you were somewhat frustrated with such unprofessional behavior. With a deep breath, you entered into his moody fortress. He was laying back on the small couch provided, his kneees scrunched up and one arm over his eyes.

Carlos slowly tilted his head, one eye peeking out from his makeshift blindfold. When he saw you, he didn’t say anything, he just sat up, manspreading and leaning with his elbows on his knees. “Hey,” He tried to force a smile.

“Hi,” You grinned sincerely, standing right in front of him. He looked up at you, and then tugged you down to sit perched on his lap. He leaned back against the wall, pulling you close to his chest.

You understood. He needed you— Your warmth and your comfort. You wrapped your arms around him, letting him safely bury his face in your neck. You both sat there silently, healing.

—

GEORGE RUSSELL - GR63

George was always regarded as the paddock’s mean girl. Regina George, of course. It was funny in theory, assuming it was just a silly joke shared between friends. It was funny until George realized people truly perceived him in such a way, disliking him for his “hateful ways.”

Most of the time he was just speaking the truth. There was lots of animosity between drivers on the track, and he was going to be truthful when interviewers asked him for his opinion. If he thought of someone as a bully, he’d happily call it out because sugarcoating it certainly wouldn’t help.

He was especially frustrated today. He was told to keep his peace and stay silent about any future conflicts, because his forward thinking caused a bad outlook on the team. That alone was enough to piss him off, but considering some unfair play that took place during the race itself, it was like adding fuel to the fire.

He knew you would be the solution to this issue. He always felt serene when you were around, which is why George immediately sought you out after the race. It didn’t matter to him that he came P4 and was supposed to celebrate— He wanted your comfort, and he wanted your praise and approval.

He found you on the sidelines, and he practically jumped the barrier to pull you into a hug, kissing you directly on the lips. He felt his anger beginning to fade as you smiled against him, whispering an “I love you” that was shared between only the two of you.

That’s all he needed to hear to know everything would be just fine.

—

OSCAR PIASTRI - OP81

Oscar rarely showed an emotion that wasn’t joy, or just his typical monotone expressions. Sure, he experienced rage and sadness just like everyone else, but he portrayed it differently. Like right now, instead of screaming at everyone to ensure his wrath was made known, Oscar was silent. Abnormally silent. Not a single thank you to the team, or a congratulations to his teammate, Lando.

He was quiet.

The absence of sound wasn’t abnormal, but it was usually when someone else was talking that Oscar remained so silent. This paired with his blank dissociating stare was enough to intimidate everyone amongst Mclaren. He was pissed, to put it lightly.

You walked in, and everyone stared at you as if you were a ray of sunlight, or as if you were their guardian angel. You greeted the team with a kind smile, calling a few of the people you were closer with out by their name. You were undeniably charming, and certainly a perfect match for Oscar.

He stood up to greet you, and he couldn’t control his smile anymore. There was a collective sigh of relief amongst everyone, who could safely continue their work without worrying about Oscar silently breathing down their neck. He kissed both of your cheeks and then finally your lips. “Thank you for coming to the race,” He spoke politely.

“Of course! You did great.” He only placed third, but that was clearly enough for Oscar as long as you were congratulating him. If not, he’d usually appear a little more grumpy, like he did moments ago. “Give me the rundown.” Of course you were watching, but you didn’t get to experience everything he did firsthand. It was always more entertaining to hear it directly from the source.

“Well,” He began his rant, and all was well with the Mclaren team.

[elswhore]

𝐏. 𝐁 ─── WANNA SEE A COWGIRL?

paige talking about how she's nervous being a newcomer on dallas, until the conversation started to escelate with her bringing up something about cowgirl's and you are thrilled turning the conversation dirtier, now she was serious talking you through it.

cowgirl roleplay. strap on(r!receiving) praise. dirty talk. light degration. spanking. choking. overstimulation. (p!begging.) cowboy hat involved.

masterlist ۶ৎ navigation ۶ৎ

The Dallas heat clung to the air, even inside the cozy apartment where you and paige were sprawled on the couch.

The hum of the AC was a faint backdrop to the soft R&B playing from your speaker, the vibe relaxed.

Paige, with her legs stretched out and her blonde hair pulled into a messy bun, fidgeted with the hem of her tank top.

She’d only been in Dallas a week, and the city’s sprawling energy still felt foreign to her.

“Man, i don’t know.” she said, her voice carrying that familiar connecticut drawl. “This place is… a lot, i feel like i’m walking into a movie set half the time, all these big trucks and cowboy hats.”

She chuckled, tilting her head to look at you. “I’m waiting for someone to lasso me or some shit.” You grinned, sipping your iced tea, the condensation dripping onto your thigh.

“You’re not wrong, dallas does have that vibe, you nervous about fitting in?” Paige shrugged, her blue eyes catching the dim light.

“Kinda, i mean, i’m used to standing out, but this is different, i feel like i need to lean into the whole… cowgirl thing.” She smirked, her tone teasing.

“Maybe i should get a hat and some boots, ride a horse to practice.” The image of paige in a cowboy hat, all swagger and confidence, sent a spark through you.

You leaned closer, resting your elbow on the back of the couch, your voice dropping playfully. “Oh, please, you in a cowgirl getup? i’d pay to see that, but you know…”

You paused, letting the words hang in the air“if you really wanna get the full Dallas experience, i could show you what a real cowgirl’s like.”

Paige’s brows furrowed, her lips parting in confusion. “What, like… you’re gonna take me to a rodeo or something?” Her innocence was almost cute, but the glint in her eyes told you she was fishing for more.

You laughed softly, shifting closer until your knee brushed hers. “Not quite,” you murmured, your voice low and suggestive.

“I’m talking about a different kind of ride, one where I show you how a cowgirl really moves.” The realization hit her like a freight train.

Paige’s eyes widened, then darkened, her lips curling into a slow, hungry smile. “Oh” she breathed, her voice dropping an octave.

“You’re talking that kind of cowgirl.” She leaned in, her hand resting on your thigh, fingers grazing the hem of your shorts.

“You gonna ride me, baby? Show me how it’s done?” Your pulse quickened, heat pooling low in your belly, you hadn’t expected her to catch on so fast, let alone lean into it with such intensity.

You bit your lip, meeting her gaze. “You sure you can handle it, rookie? i don’t play nice.” Her laugh was low and throaty, her fingers tightening on your thigh.

“Handle it? I’m begging for it, come on, don’t tease me. Show me what you got.” You hesitated for a moment, not because you didn’t want it—God, you wanted it—but because the shift from playful banter to this raw, pulsing need was almost dizzying.

Paige sensed your pause and pounced, her hand sliding up to cup your jaw, her thumb brushing your bottom lip.

“Don’t overthink it” she whispered, her voice rough with want. “I want you to fuck me up, cowgirl, i want you to ride me until I can’t think straight.” Her words snapped something inside you.

You surged forward, capturing her lips in a kiss that was all heat and teeth, her moan vibrating against your mouth.

She tasted like the mint gum she’d been chewing, her tongue eager and demanding as she pulled you onto her lap.

Your hands tangled in her hair, tugging just hard enough to make her gasp, and she retaliated by gripping your hips, grinding you down against her.

“Fuck,” she muttered against your lips, her hands slipping under your shirt to drag her nails down your back.

“You’re gonna kill me, aren’t you?”

“Only if you’re lucky,” you teased, nipping her jaw before pulling back to meet her eyes. “You really want this? You want me to ride you?”

Paige’s gaze was molten, her chest heaving. “I want it so bad it hurts” she said, her voice raw.

“I’ve been thinking about you like this since i got here, please, baby. Show me.” That was all you needed.

You pushed her back against the couch, straddling her thighs as you tugged her tank top over her head, revealing the sports bra beneath.

Her skin was warm under your hands, her muscles flexing as she reached for you, but you caught her wrists, pinning them above her head.

“Not yet,” you said, your voice firm. “You’re gonna let me take my time.” Paige groaned, her head tipping back, but she obeyed, her wrists twitching under your grip.

You released her, trailing your hands down her arms, over her collarbone, until you reached the waistband of her joggers.

She lifted her hips to help you slide them off, revealing the harness already strapped to her hips, the sleek black dildo making your mouth go dry.

“Prepared, huh?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

She smirked, unapologetic “Knew you’d come around eventually.” you didn’t bother with a reply, too focused on the way her body tensed as you ran your fingers along the strap, teasing her with the lightest touch.

You stood, stripping off your shorts and panties in one fluid motion, letting her see you—bare, confident, ready.

Paige’s eyes raked over you, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous” she murmured, her hands twitching like she was dying to touch you.

You climbed back onto her lap, positioning yourself over the strap, your hands braced on her shoulders.

“You ready for me, cowgirl?” you asked, your voice low and teasing. “Born ready” she shot back, but her bravado faltered as you lowered yourself, the tip of the strap brushing against your entrance.

You were already wet, slick from the anticipation, and the first inch slid in with a delicious stretch that made you both moan.

“Shit,” Paige hissed, her hands flying to your hips, gripping hard enough to bruise. “You’re so fucking tight.” You sank down slowly, savoring the way she filled you, the stretch bordering on too much but so perfect you couldn’t stop.

When you were fully seated, your thighs trembling against hers, you paused, letting her feel every pulse of you around the strap.

Paige’s head fell back, her lips parted as she cursed under her breath. “Move” she begged, her voice ragged.

“Please, baby, move.” You didn’t need to be told twice, you started slow, rolling your hips in a deliberate rhythm, each motion dragging the strap against every sensitive spot inside you.

Paige’s hands guided you, her fingers digging into your hips as she whispered filthy praise “That’s it, cowgirl, ride me. Fuck, you look so good like this.” The praise spurred you on, your pace quickening as you found the perfect angle, the strap hitting deep and hard with every thrust.

Paige was losing it, her curses coming faster, her voice rough and desperate. “Goddamn, you’re gonna make me lose my fucking mind, keep going. Don’t stop.” You weren’t planning to.

The pleasure was building, sharp and relentless, and you leaned forward, bracing your hands on her chest as you rode her harder, faster.

Paige’s eyes were locked on you, her pupils blown, and then out of nowhere she reached to the side, fumbling in the drawer of the coffee table.

Before you could process it, she pulled out a cowboy hat, the kind you’d see at a rodeo, and plopped it on your head with a wicked grin.“Now you’re a real cowgirl” she said, her voice dripping with lust.

“Ride me with that hat on, baby, let me see it.” The hat was ridiculous, but it did something to you— like you were putting on a show just for her.

You tipped it slightly, giving her a playful smirk, and then you went harder, your hips slamming down with a force that made her choke out a moan.

“Fuck, yes” Paige growled, her hands roaming from your hips to your ass, slapping it hard enough to sting.

“You like that, don’t you? dirty little cowgirl.” The sharp smack sent a jolt through you, your rhythm faltering as the pleasure spiked.

“Do it again” you gasped, and she didn’t hesitate, her hand coming down on your other cheek with a loud crack.

The mix of pain and pleasure was dizzying, pushing you closer to the edge.

Paige was relentless now, her hands rough and possessive as she gripped your hips, forcing you to move even faster.

“You’re so fucking good” she panted, her voice breaking.

“Taking me so well, my perfect fucking girl.” You were close, so close, but you wanted more—needed more.

You grabbed her hand, guiding it to your throat, and her eyes lit up with understanding.

“Yeah?” she asked, her voice low and dangerous “You want me to choke you, baby?”

“Please” you whispered, and her fingers wrapped around your throat, not too tight but just enough to make your head spin.

The pressure, combined with the relentless thrust of the strap, was overwhelming, your body trembling as you chased your release.

“Fuck, you’re so hot” Paige muttered, her thumb brushing your jaw as she tightened her grip slightly.

“Look at you, riding me like a slut in that hat, you’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasped, the word barely audible as your orgasm built, white-hot and unstoppable.

“Yours.”

“That’s fucking right,” she growled, her other hand slapping your hip again, the sting pushing you over the edge.

You came hard, your vision blurring as your body clenched around the strap, a broken moan tearing from your throat.

Paige didn’t stop, guiding you through it with rough, steady thrusts, her grip on your throat grounding you as the pleasure bordered on too much.

“Keep going” she demanded, her voice hoarse “I’m not done watching you.” You were sensitive, every movement almost painful, but the way she looked at you—hungry, obsessed—kept you going.

You rode her through the aftershocks, your thighs burning, the hat tilting precariously on your head.

Paige’s curses grew more desperate, her hips bucking up to meet you, and you knew she was close to her own release, the harness rubbing against her just right.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—” She didn’t finish, her words dissolving into a low groan as her body tensed, her hands digging into your hips as she came. The sight of her—head thrown back, lips parted, completely undone—sent a fresh wave of heat through you, and you collapsed against her, both of you panting.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the only sound your ragged breaths and the faint hum of the AC.

Paige’s hands softened, sliding up your back, and she chuckled, low and lazy.

“Holy shit” she said, her voice thick with satisfaction.

“You really showed me, cowgirl.” You laughed weakly, the hat still perched on your head.

“Told you I don’t play nice.”She grinned, pulling you into a slow, messy kiss, her lips warm and soft against yours.

“Good,” she murmured. “I like it rough.” As you melted into her, the hat finally slipped off, landing on the couch with a soft thud.

Neither of you cared. You were already planning round two.

۶ৎ — @addl0vee @mrsarnold @melpthatsme @bellaprintz25 @janaelalfysblunt @ellehoops @belsoulss @apbueckers @uwupaige @janaelalfysloml @azzisbueckers @paigeluvvr @giavonnii @jupitermoonbaby @shootingstarrrrr @dalilahissilly @luldejamleer @d7dream @gabbyygoo @bravemode @latenighttalkinqwp @avvwritesstufff @prettygirl-gabi @yailtsv @bebitts @heartsforari @usuallyshadowybasement @authentic-girl03 @private-but-not-a-secret @evanpeterstoe @destinybueckers44 @youmeandjennessey @starfulani @cherryswisherz @bueckersworld @paiges-1vur

[lacyblades]

౨ৎ satoru's mouth runs a mile a minute, especially when things get intimate.

it's a constant stream, sometimes coherent, often just utter nonsense. and it starts the second any skin is revealed, not even after the main event. his blue eyes will widen, a soft gasp escaping his slightly parted lips.

a dreamy, swoon-like sigh will flutter from his throat, a delicate pink dusting his cheeks. "oh, you're so, so pretty," he'll murmur, punctuating the words with soft kisses against your bare chest, his tongue leaving a wet trail over your perky nipples. "incredibly pretty. beautiful. no, gorgeous. actually, ethereal."

you manage a soft thank you, your brows furrowing with building anticipation. for what feels like an eternity, he's been teasing you, a relentless dance on the edge. the slick head of his cock bumps insistently against your clit with every subtle shift of his weight.

he just keeps talking, a breathless monologue about how perfect you look spread out beneath him, how impossibly lucky he feels.

you're seconds away from snapping; that he'd feel a hell of a lot luckier if he'd just slide inside already.

"sato, c'mon," you finally whine, a desperate edge to your voice. "ple— please, just…"

"i am, i am," he coos, a lazy smile stretching across his features. "just give me a minute to properly appreciate m'girl."

you huff out a frustrated breath, giving him a pointed look that clearly conveys your dwindling patience. "you've had plenty of minutes already."

but then, finally, he presses the tip against your slick entrance, and the anticipation spikes. he sinks in slowly, stretching your tight, wet walls with his thick length, and he's instantly undone.

his thrusts are never gentle or rhythmic, but rather urgent, greedy slams, as if he's desperate to absorb every sensation, every inch of you, in that single moment.

"fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me," he pants, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "no— no one takes me like you do."

his eyes are glazed over, pupils blown wide with pure sensation. a sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead, and his hands roam your body restlessly, eventually settling on the curve of your waist, his thumbs digging in possessively.

"i can't— god, i think i could come just like this," he groans, leaning down to nip at the shell of your ear, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. his fingers slip lower, finding the swollen nub of your clit and rubbing against it in tantalizing circles.

"s'wet," he breathes, his voice a husky whisper. "do i do that to you, huh?" it's not even a practiced dirty talk, you realize, just his unfiltered, lust-filled thoughts tumbling out.

as satoru's climax hits, a shuddering wave that ripples through his entire body, he's literally thanking you, a broken, hiccuping sound escaping his lips. his head falls heavily into the crook of your neck, and you kiss away the tears that squeeze from his tightly shut eyes.

satoru pulls away, just by a little, gazing at you with big, blue eyes. "i think— i think we should get married."

[mattybsgroupie]

— MATT FINGERS YOU WHILE YOU HAVE TO PEE

you squirm on matt’s lap as he presses his chapped lips against your neck, opening his mouth and lightly sucking your skin. his hands travel around your body, forcing your hips down, your clothed pussy rubbing against his hardened dick.

matt’s slender fingers reach your panties, playing with the waistband of your underwear. you let out a soft moan when his digits gently press your clit through the fabric, feeling the wet spot staining the cotton.

however, that wetness wasn’t only from your leaking juices. your bladder has been hurting for a while, the need to release growing stronger. “so wet for me” matt whispers, his index rubbing your clit in circular motions. he goes further, managing to pull the fabric to the side and drag his fingers through your folds, reaching every inch of your pussy.

you gasp when matt pats your entrance, the sudden contact making it harder to hold. he furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head, “what’s wrong?” he asks, concern showing though his tone. you simply deny with your head, not wanting to tell him the real reason why you’re so squirmy. “keep going please” you almost beg, hiding your face on the crook of his neck.

matt finally slips his middle finger in, a loud moan escaping from the back of your throat. “such a tight little pussy” he chuckles at your desperation, sliding himself all the way in and slightly curling his knuckles inside you. your lower belly starts to tighten, not really sure whether you’re close to cumming or peeing yourself.

matt notices how your gummy walls start to pulse around his finger, fastening his pace and reaching your sweet spot — causing you to leak on his hand. he feels the sudden droplets wetting his palm, another confused expression appearing on his face. you don’t move or speak, too embarrassed to admit that you just let out a little bit of pee as matt fingered you.

he chuckles again, slowing his movements. his index reachers your entrance, pushing himself into your leaking hole, adding another finger. “did someone have an accident?” matt coos as you throw your head back and your mouth hangs open, two of his fingers being enough to fill you up entirely. “what is this on my hand hm? did you have to go baby?” he continues to tease, and you let out a sob.

“‘m sorry—” you manage to speak, trying to think of a good excuse. the truth is that you were so deeply lost in his touch you didn’t realize your bladder would have given up that easily. “i can hold it, i promise, just keep going please” you beg, placing both hands on matt’s shoulders, practically fucking yourself on his fingers now that he had stopped.

matt clicks his tongue, a disappointed sigh escaping from his lips. you immediately pout — the last thing you wanted was to be punished for not being able to hold your own bladder. “‘m sorry i didn’t mean it” you panic. his free hand goes to the back of your head, gently tugging on your hair. “finish what you started” matt commands.

“go on” he insists, curling his fingers inside once again. “i bet you still have a lot left in you” matt says, placing his palm on your lower tummy. he pushes it lightly, causing you to whimper. “you must be so full, princess”

“please” you cry, using your last bit of strength to beg. “please ‘m gonna—ah! ‘m gonna pee!” your warn, almost immediately losing control. matt smirks at the sight, feeling the warm liquid spreading onto his hand and down his thighs, completely soaking his jeans. you’re pissing yourself on matt’s lap while he continues to move his fingers inside you, the loud hiss of your release and your small cries taking over the room.

“such a good fucking girl” matt praises, making you even more embarrassed. “making such a big mess for me” he says once you’re finally done. your panties and your cheeks are drenched in wetness as matt plants kisses across you collarbone, trailing towards your neck. he finally picks up his previous pace, thrusting deep inside you. his digits with your cervix and your legs almost give up, your approaching orgasm causing you to tremble.

“cum for me, my messy little girl” matt gives you permission and you finally let go. your pussy gushes out cum and a few drops of pee, emptying yourself on matt’s fingers. your body falls slack against his and you nuzzle your face on his chest, trying to recover from the overwhelming sensation. matt traces patterns on your back, soothing you before placing a kiss on the top of your head, “we gotta clean those pissy panties, hm?”

DAY ONE — finally!!!! here it is to all of you pissy panties!!!! hope you enjoy it and if you wanna be tagged on this special only, please comment on this post! thank you @luvs4matt for helping me with this! 🤍

[okaylikeschaewon]

Debauchery: Part 1

~7.5k words, male reader, smut, Part 1 of 3

“You can go first.”

“No please, you first.”

“It’s fine, really.”

“Mina please, you’re my senior.”

“Sakura, don’t do that,” Mina groaned with a roll of her eyes. “Don’t make this formal.”

“Fine, but then just call me Kkura,” Sakura smiled, spinning the chair in Mina’s direction.

Mina stepped forward and placed her knees on the chair, leaning forward over the backrest, and pressed her mouth against Sakura’s partially opened lips.

“Oh!” Sakura gasped, taken aback by the kiss. “I…”

“Was that okay? Kkura?” Mina teased, her lips curling up in a gentle smile.

Sakura hesitated, frozen in time for a moment, before answering.

“It… was…” she finally spoke, breathing heavily with each word. “It was just so sudden. I was surprised.”

“Surprised at how much you liked it?”

“No! I mean… I did… but…” Sakura stammered frantically. “You’re still my boss.”

“Was I still your boss last weekend?” Mina teased some more, smiling gleefully.

“Mina! I thought we weren’t going to talk about that?”

“Yeah, but then you just kissed me again out of nowhere,” Mina kept up the taunting. “And you know, the way you just melted against me-”

“I didn’t melt!” Sakura began blushing profusely.

Mina smirked proudly, loving every second of Sakura’s embarrassment.

 “I can’t help but notice how much you’ve been watching me at work lately,” Mina spoke softly, getting off the chair and pushing it to the side slightly to get closer to Sakura. “Speaking of that kiss, did you feel a bit of a spark between us or was that just me?”

Sakura paused for another moment, taking a couple of deep inhales of Mina’s lavender perfume in, closing her eyes for a second before opening them back up and staring Mina in the eyes.

“Yes,” Sakura whispered back, leaning her mouth forward just slightly with pouted lips. “I did.”

“It felt like you wanted more.”

“Wanted more?”

“Do you not?” Mina’s lips curled up into a smirk again as she inched a bit closer to Sakura who still had her lips pouted ever so slightly. “If you want, we could try it again… just to confirm.”

“This is why you invited me over, isn’t it?” Sakura whispered, tilting her head a bit and moving even closer to Mina.

“Maybe it is.”

“Then hurry up and kiss me.”

Mina - almost literally - jumped at the opportunity and pressed her mouth forward against Sakura once more, kissing her deeply and tenderly, gently pressing her tongue into Sakura’s mouth.

“Am I interrupting something?” you chuckled as you entered the room.

“No,” Mina edged back, licking her lips. “Kkura here was just about to show me how good she is at FPS games.”

“I’m really not that good,” Sakura stammered, cheeks bright red.

“Then let’s just say fuck the games for now,” Mina cupped Sakura’s face with both hands and kissed her again.

This time, however, Sakura quickly pulled away. Her eyes were almost as big as her face, beautiful and round, as worry took over and she glanced in your direction.

“Don’t worry so much,” Mina giggled before giving Sakura’s ass a little slap. “You’re not getting in trouble for anything.”

“I don’t understand…” Sakura mumbled, unphased by the slap, eyes darting between Mina and you. “He knows about last weekend?”

“You mean when you kissed me at the work mixer? Or do you mean the part where you ended up taking me to the roof? Yeah, he knows,” Mina laughed at Sakura’s mortified reaction. “Kkura relax, just forget about me being your boss for the night. You had no issue last weekend.”

“Mina told me that same night,” you walked over to the two girls. “You know, you’re not even the first girl she’s messed around with from work.”

“And oh my God you gave me such a good time,” Mina moaned softly before pulling the chair back and forcing Sakura to sit in front of you. “Sit. I think it’s only fair that I give you what you want as a thank you.”

“What I want?” Sakura stammered as she sat down and looked up at you. “What are you talking about?”

“I know you were pretty drunk, but do you not remember what you told me?” Mina asked while leaning over the back of the chair and kissing Sakura on the cheek. “Don’t be shy about it, we both think your little crush on my boyfriend is super cute.”

“Crush? I don’t have…” Sakura’s voice trailed off as she began piecing everything together.

“What do you remember?” you asked as you unbuckled your pants. “From that night, after you ate my girlfriend’s ass, do you remember what you said?”

“Don’t be crass,” Mina slapped your arm, glaring at you. “Ignore him,” Mina turned her attention back to Sakura. “Kkura sweetie, you asked for something pretty specific that night. Do you remember?”

“I take it this was all part of your plan?” Sakura chuckled nervously, her eyes fixated on your unbuttoned belt.

“Maybe,” Mina smiled and kissed Sakura’s cheek again. “Tell me, my sweet Kkura, do you still want to suck his cock?”

Sakura’s body jolted at the comment before she took a moment and began to relax.

“Now who’s being crass?” you chuckled under your breath.

“I assume I said that when I was drunk?” Sakura asked with a newfound calmness before pausing to look you straight in the eyes before continuing her response to Mina’s question. “Right after I ate your ass I bet?”

“That’s right,” you answered for Mina while placing one hand on the back of Sakura’s head and pulling her a bit closer to your crotch. “She told me you’re good with your mouth.”

“Maybe I am,” Sakura smirked, full of confidence now despite her blushed cheeks screaming embarrassment. “Want to find out?”

“Fuck the back-and-forth,” you groaned, pushing your hips forward a bit more. “I’ve been thinking about your sexy little mouth ever since Mina told me you wanted to suck my cock.”

Sakura smiled wide as she began undoing your pants and lowering them to your ankles. As soon as she released your cock from your underwear, it smacked against her face, making her flinch before she opened her mouth with pure desire behind her eyes.

“She’s practically drooling,” Mina laughed while grabbing Sakura’s hair and wrapping it into a makeshift bun. “I told you it was big.”

“Holy fuck,” Sakura mumbled, gripping your cock and stroking the full length slowly, taking her time to appreciate your size.

“Come on,” you moaned, grabbing Sakura’s wrist, guiding your cock towards her lips.

Sakura opened her mouth wide, welcoming your cock as you pushed into her throat. You grabbed her hand and pulled it off your shaft so that you could go deeper, pressing your cock as far down as you could. Once you felt too much resistance, you pulled back out, leaving Sakura gasping for air.

“It’s so fucking big,” Sakura croaked, catching her breath. “I can’t-”

“That’s what you wanted,” Mina giggled before reaching down and lifting up Sakura’s shirt. “Fuck, I love your tits. I'm honestly a bit jealous.”

Sakura moaned gracefully as Mina began playing with her chest, still staring at your cock with her lips slightly parted, waiting for you to make the next move. Her eyes were begging for you, as if she had this hunger that could only be lifted by your cock.

“They’re beautiful alright,” you mumbled, watching your girlfriend playing with Sakura’s tits as you stepped forward again and grabbed Sakura’s head with both hands. “You have no idea how much Mina has been raving about them these last few days.”

Sakura couldn’t respond before you pushed your cock into her mouth again. You didn’t even bother with any caution this time - not that you showed much the first time. Regardless, you pushed your cock forward about halfway into Sakura’s mouth before using your hands to maneuvre her head and fuck her senseless. You could see her body going limp as you went deeper and deeper, thrusting your cock hard while pulling her face into your body.

“You look so fucking good right now,” you moaned, tilting your head back, scrunching up your face.

Sakura continued to struggle on your cock before Mina finally saved her, giving her a chance to breathe by pulling her mouth off your cock. As Sakura gasped for air, Mina turned the chair around and began making out with her. Mina sucked up all of the drool dripping from Sakura’s lips after the face-fucking she just took.

“I could seriously fuck that pretty little face all night, I’d never get bored of it,” you commented casually, stroking back Sakura’s hair behind her ears while Mina moved down and began sucking on her tits. “But my girlfriend has other plans.”

“Oh?” Sakura looked down at Mina who had just released her nipple from her mouth. “And what would that be?”

“You don’t get to ask questions,” Mina hissed softly with an icy undertone that made your cock twitch. “In fact, no more talking either, you’ll just be doing whatever I tell you, okay?”

“Yes boss.”

“‘Boss’,” Mina smirked coyly. “I like that.”

Then, after giving Sakura’s tits a little slap, Mina pressed Sakura’s mouth against your balls. Instinctively, as they entered her mouth, Sakura took hold of your shaft and began stroking you gently - the girl needed no instruction.

“Good girl,” Mina smiled proudly as she began stripping off all her clothes, watching Sakura suck your balls proudly.

Once Mina had fully stripped down, she bent over at her hips and put your cock into her mouth. The view of Mina sucking your cock with Sakura licking your balls nearly made you blow in an instant, yet by some higher power you managed to hold on - at least for now. The two girls worked your cock in unison a bit more before swapping positions. Now Mina, who had dropped down to her knees, was licking your balls while Sakura was sucking your cock.

“You girls are going to make me fucking cum,” you moaned, shutting your eyes tight.

Mina released your balls with a little pop before joining Sakura on your shaft. Sakura, taking Mina’s lead, began licking your shaft up and down, both girls working in tandem to rub their tongues against your cock.

“I’m fucking serious,” you gasped as Sakura started kissing your shaft over and over.

“Then do it,” Mina whispered, her warm breath hitting your tip just the right way before she put it in your mouth.

Mina began working your tip hard, moving down your cock just slightly while applying pressure all around your head, her tongue massaging your frenulum. While she worked the tip, Sakura began licking your balls again, pressing her lips against your taint and kissing it deeply. The girl had no apprehension when it came to getting right up in there, pushing her mouth hard against your balls, licking them side to side.

“Mina…” you moaned as you felt the rush of euphoria shooting through your spine.

That was the last warning she’d get, within the next two or three seconds you felt your cock unloading cum relentlessly into Mina’s mouth. She held her lips tight against your tip, letting you fill her up, and Sakura kept prodding her tongue up against your balls the entire time. After the initial wave, Mina grabbed your cock and started stroking it, getting as much of your cum out as she could.

Once content, she lifted her mouth off your cock, spilling just a little bit on your shaft before she got off her knees and onto her feet again. Then, Mina gently took Sakura’s face in her hands and tilted her head up. Sakura obeyed without even being told and opened her mouth as Mina let a glob of your cum spill out of her lips and directly into Sakura’s mouth.

As soon as the cum landed on Sakura’s tongue, Mina bent down and kissed her, pressing her lips hard against Sakura’s. In a glorious, cum-filled kiss, the two girls began sharing the moment together, basically forgetting all about you as they played with your cum. Once pretty much all of it had moved from Mina’s mouth into Sakura’s, Mina leaned back and gently closed Sakura’s mouth with her hand, encouraging the girl to swallow it all - which she did with ease.

“Good girl,” Mina smiled as she motioned towards your cock. “You missed a spot.”

Without a second thought, Sakura leaned forward and licked the few streaks of cum left on your shaft, swallowing that as well. Then, Mina leaned in close and whispered something into Sakura’s ear. Whatever it was, she thought about it for at most a second before nodding excitedly at Mina.

“Such a good little girl,” Mina smiled, kissing Sakura again before climbing on the desk and sticking her ass up just slightly.

Sakura stood up from the chair and followed her to the desk. Once there, she took a moment to look over her shoulder back at you. While flashing you a smile, she pulled down her pants so that she was also completely nude and then bent over at her hips. While spreading her cheeks and flashing her pussy at you, Sakura pressed her face into Mina’s ass.

“Oh fuck I’ve missed this mouth,” Mina moaned loudly into the room. “Come on babe, give her what she deserves, give it to her good.”

“Gladly,” you muttered, mesmerized by how passionately Sakura was eating your girlfriend’s ass right now.

It was a beautiful scene as Mina’s back arched up, her shoulders flexed, and her head craned down towards the desk. Her legs were spread just enough and her ass was lifted to give Sakura easy access. Part of you was almost jealous of Sakura’s position.

That jealousy really didn’t last long though, not when you had a clear view of Sakura’s tight little pussy glistening before you. The girl was beyond excited, you could clearly see how wet she was. You walked up right behind her, pushing apart her cheeks just a little bit with your hands as you lined your cock up with her folds.

Just as you imagined, she was tight. But oh my God she was wet. Unbelievably. Sakura’s pussy felt fucking amazing right now, like pure heaven on your cock. It must have felt nice for her as well, because you heard a muffled but loud little half shriek half moan escape her lips the moment you pushed your way in. As you started gently thrusting your cock into Sakura’s tight pussy, you could see her back muscles flexing.

Even though you were willing to fuck her face hard earlier, for some reason you felt like being much more gentle with her now as you slowly eased your cock in and out of her pussy. She felt more delicate now - softer, definitely tighter, and just a bit more fragile in your hands. Maybe it was because you could see how amazing she was making Mina feel.

While still thrusting softly, you lightly pressed the back of Sakura’s head deeper into Mina’s ass just to see how she’d react. To your pleasant surprise, Sakura took that little pressure and doubled it herself, pressing her face even deeper into Mina’s ass until Mina began squirming like crazy. Sakura really was an angel.

Mina moaned hard, and you could have sworn you felt Sakura’s pussy tighten up a bit. Now, you decided, it was time to pick up the pace. You grabbed Sakura’s tiny waist and pressed her down against the edge of the desk, bracing her as you started thrusting with more force. You went harder and rougher until Sakura lifted her head out of Mina’s ass and began screaming, her legs shaking, and her knuckles white as they gripped the side of the desk.

“Pretty girl is cumming,” Mina sang gently as she slipped off the desk and watched Sakura with admiration.

Odds were pretty high that she didn’t even hear Mina’s words, as you could definitely feel Sakura cumming against your cock. The way her pussy began squeezing tighter, forcing you to fight just to stay in, it felt fucking unbelievable. Thankfully she was soaked, making it a bit easier to push in.

“Fuck you feel so - damn - good - right now,” you moaned, giving Sakura’s ass a hard slap before grabbing Mina’s arm and pulling her towards you.

“Oh!” Mina gasped with a giggle before immediately stifling it as you kissed her.

With your cock pumping inside Sakura, you kissed Mina hard and passionately, feeling your second orgasm rapidly approaching. Her pussy, even though it was relaxing a bit, was still squeezing your shaft so perfectly, warm and wet, coating your cock like a glove. Sakura was the perfect little fuckdoll for you, pussy designed perfectly to fit your cock.

“I’m going to cum again,” you whispered into Mina’s mouth before kissing her again.

As your lips met once more, you slipped your hand between her legs and began rubbing her wet clit. You toyed with her a bit, making her moan into your mouth, before slipping a finger into her asshole.

“Babe!” Mina gasped, shutting her eyes tight.

At that same moment, Sakura began moaning loudly into the air. Then, as Sakura began screaming, you felt her pussy clamp down even harder on your cock - she was cumming again. Each and every pulse could be felt through your shaft, each little gush of wet, each throb matching your own heat.

While Sakura finished once more on your cock, you pumped her pussy as hard as you could, nearing your own release rapidly. The finger you had in Mina’s ass was swiftly pulled out and the kiss ended as you began focusing everything in your body on fucking Sakura’s pussy.

Then, right before you could cum, you felt her body lose all energy as she began collapsing to the floor. Your cock slipped out of her pussy as she dropped to her knees and turned around. Sakura, face red and coated in sweat, looked up at you with her mouth open and her tits in her palms, pushed up together.

“Cum on me,” Sakura moaned, sticking her tongue out. “All over my body.”

Almost as if on cue, the first spurt of your cum shot forward right onto Sakura’s face. She jerked backwards instinctually as she closed her eyes before holding steady, taking the next two shots right to her face.

Mina, not wanting to be left out, also quickly dropped to her knees and began kissing your balls as the rest of your cum spilled out and began coating Sakura’s tits. You never would have expected so much, but Sakura’s chest was thoroughly coated in white while the last few dribbles of cum spilled on Mina’s cheek as she kissed your balls.

“I’m fucking spent,” you groaned, pulling the chair over and taking a seat.

“I can see that,” Mina giggled as she crawled over to Sakura.

The two girls lay down together and Mina began sucking on Sakura’s tits again, spreading your cum all over.

“That was amazing,” Sakura sighed, her chest heaving up and down as she caught her breath while Mina continued lapping up all the cum from her chest.

“How about we-” Mina began, pausing to kiss Sakura on the lips before continuing, “-head to the bedroom?”

Sakura and you exchanged glances before both of you began laughing.

“Alright, come on,” you got up with a smile and held your hand out for Sakura to take. “We’re not done yet.”

—

It was you who woke up first, when the sun started to peek through the curtains. After carefully removing yourself from the web of intertwined limbs on Mina's bed, you began to look for your clothes. Even though last night felt like a blur, you knew it was all real; Your body, aching with soreness, was ample proof that the night was real - and this wasn’t accounting for the two nude girls you just woke up next to. You were exhausted, but you were also experiencing a glow like no other this morning.

“You’re up early,” Sakura croaked from behind you.

“Morning,” you looked back over your shoulder to see her squinting. “Did I wake you? Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she yawned, stretching her arms towards the roof, not caring at all about her tits being out. “Hey, do you think you could give me a ride home?”

“Yeah, of course,” you replied, picking up whatever garments you could find off the floor. “When?”

“Now’s fine,” she yawned again, gently lifting Mina’s arms off her and getting off the bed. “Let me just gargle some water or something real quick, my throat is on fire.”

“Sorry again.”

“Idiot,” Sakura chuckled, giving your shoulder a light hit as she walked past you to the bathroom.

Sakura’s figure was truly entrancing, that tiny waist with her gorgeous hips swaying back and forth with each step. Part of you almost wanted to follow her round ass into the bathroom to have another turn with her, even though you had plenty of fun with her last night. Instead, you refrained and turned to Mina.

“Babe,” you called out, giving her a couple of pats on her butt before palming her soft cheek. “I’m going to go drop Sakura off, alright?”

“Mhmm,” she moaned in her half-slumber.

“I’ll be back in a bit, text me if you need anything,” you added, leaning over and kissing her forehead before putting on the rest of your clothes.

—

“Not much of a morning person?” you asked while putting your car into park.

“Sorry?” Sakura asked, confused as she turned to you.

“You didn’t say a word the whole drive.”

“Oh,” Sakura began blushing slightly. “Honestly, I’ve been trying to muster up some courage.”

“Courage?”

“I wanted to ask if…” she hesitated before turning to face you with those beautiful puppy dog eyes. “If you’d like to come up for some breakfast.”

“Breakfast?”

“It’s a meal people have in the morning.”

“Sakura,” you burst out laughing. She smiled at you warmly as your laughter subsided. “Well, I mean, I guess I have time.”

“Perfect!” Sakura gushed as she got out of your car. “You like eggs, right?”

“Nah, hate them,” you replied while following Sakura to the elevators.

“Then you can sit there and watch me eat eggs I guess.”

“That sounds good to me,” you smirked at her. “I’ve really grown to enjoy sitting there and watching you swallow.”

“Stop!” Sakura whined as her smile slipped through her feigned annoyance. “My body hasn’t had a night like that in a while.”

“You also sore?”

“Yeah, all over,” Sakura giggled, exiting the elevator in front of you. “Your girlfriend is quite… intense.”

“Not like it’s your first time experiencing her,” you teased as Sakura unlocked the door to her apartment. “Shouldn’t you already know this?”

“That was different, I didn’t really have anything going inside me that night,” Sakura replied casually as she stepped into her kitchen and started the coffee machine. “I spent most of the evening between her legs.”

“Between her cheeks, you mean.”

“Are you ever gonna stop teasing me?” Sakura leaned against her countertop with her arms crossed. “So what if I eat ass?”

“After last night, nope,” you smiled at her. “And it’s not like I’m judging you for it, been there done that.”

She returned the smile, and you both paused to gaze at each other; Sakura was so pretty this morning, even though she just woke up. Mina showed you all of Sakura's social media accounts following the events of last weekend’s gathering. You admitted to Mina that you thought Sakura was absolutely stunning, which is the only reason last night even happened, even though Mina seemed slightly anxious about sharing you with another girl.

“Cream and sugar?” Sakura asked while turning around towards the coffee machine.

“Huh?” you snapped out of your trance. “You want me to cream on your face again?”

“Oh my God,” Sakura sighed with exasperation. “I’m really never living it down.”

“I’m just kidding,” you stepped up right behind Sakura and placed your hands on her hips and whispered into her ear. “But does the coffee really matter?”

“What?”

“Sakura,” you turned her around and pressed her back gently against the counter. “We both know why you asked me to come up, and it’s not for breakfast.”

“That’s a bold assumption,” Sakura replied with an aura of confidence. “Maybe I just wanted some company for breakfast?”

“Maybe, but I also know you don’t eat breakfast.”

“W-What…” she stammered, cheeks turning pink. “How did you-”

“I know a lot about you, Sakura,” you whispered while keeping eye contact. “So, am I right? Did you invite me up for eggs or for something else?”

Sakura hesitated, biting her lower lip and trying to avoid your gaze as her eyes darted around the room. Yet, they always managed to fall right back onto yours.

“Don’t be shy now,” you added gently while pushing her hair behind her ears. “After last night, there’s nothing you need to hide from me anymore.”

“What about Mi-”

“What about her?” you cut her off. “Not that she’d mind, but I won’t tell her anything either way.”

“But-”

“Sakura,” you spoke firmly and placed your hands on the counter around Sakura’s body. “Either you walk over to the stove, or you drop down to your knees, what’s it going to be?”

She hesitated for just a moment before you saw the flame ignite behind her eyes.

“You’re right,” she whispered softly, lifting her hands up to use the hair tie she had on her wrist as she bunched up her hair. “I don’t even have eggs.”

“That’s what I thought,” you smiled as Sakura slowly dropped down to her knees as you started unbuckling your pants. “I knew you couldn’t get enough of my cock.”

“Yeah, just like how you can’t get enough of my mouth,” Sakura replied as she pulled your pants down to your ankles.

“No I can’t,” you muttered under your breath as the sensation of Sakura’s mouth finding your tip again instantly sent waves of pleasure through your body.

With your eyes closed, you placed your hands on Sakura’s head and simply enjoyed letting her suck your cock with full control. You didn’t thrust your hips nor did you push her head, you just existed in the state of bliss that Sakura put you in. Gentle slurps were all you could hear as the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen.

“I love your cock so much,” Sakura gasped as she finally took a breath. She grabbed your shaft with her slender fingers and started stroking you while tilting her head down towards your balls. She gave them a quick kiss before sliding her tongue all the way up your shaft and engulfing your cock once more, bobbing her head up and down your length.

“Fucking hell Sakura,” you moaned softly, pushing your hands against the counter to hold yourself up. “Lemme see those tits again.”

Sakura slowly rose to her feet, her fingers finding your shaft as she leaned in close to you, giving you a couple of gentle strokes as she whispered. “You love my tits, don’t you?” she asked with a sly little smile.

“That’s right,” you replied as your hands landed on her hips, slowly sliding up her shirt. “I had the best sleep ever, laying my face on them.”

“Did you also like cumming all over them?”

“I don’t recall, jog my memory?” you smirked at her as your hands finally found her soft tits.

As you gave her a little squeeze, you leaned forward into her and kissed her on the lips. As soon as you tasted her, you realized despite all the events of last night, this was your first time kissing Sakura. A wave of warmth shot through you, it was hard to explain, it felt both wrong and right at the same time. Before you could think about it and figure out what was going on, Sakura had pulled back and taken your hand, walking you over to her couch.

Sakura, after pushing you onto the couch, began slowly taking off her shirt. She made sure to sway her body side to side, inching the fabric up tediously, exposing her tiny waist inch by inch. It was only once her shirt made it to her chest did she quickly swoop it off her body, sending her tits recoiling into a bounce that felt like it lasted an eternity - almost cartoonishly.

The show wasn’t over yet. You started stroking your cock gently as Sakura turned around, showing off her toned back, and bending at her hips. Slowly, oh so painstakingly slowly, Sakura lowered her pants to her ankles, kicking them away. Then, with just her panties on and nothing else, she took a seat on your lap, pushing your cock between her cheeks.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” you whispered into her ear as you wrapped your arms around her body and palmed her tits.

“You like my tits that much?” Sakura whispered back, turning her face. “Wanna fuck them?”

Your cock began throbbing - which Sakura definitely felt as evident through her confident little giggles - and you squeezed Sakura’s tits hard between your fingers. There was no need to answer, Sakura already knew, and with an impressive smoothness she slid down your body and onto her knees in front of you.

“Just relax, let me do the work,” Sakura moaned softly as she pushed her tits together around your cock.

She started slowly, moving her tits up and down with her hands, making your entire length disappear between them. Then, once she had a rhythm going, she looked up directly into your eyes and began bouncing her entire body up and down, pushing her tits together hard, making a tight seal around your cock.

It felt like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. It wasn’t tight, but it was unbelievably soft and smooth - it just felt right having your cock between Sakura’s tits. You loved it. The sensation was unreal, you felt like you were getting close but not able to cum, as if Sakura was edging you, it just felt like a steady stream of dopamine straight to your brain. 

This was when you realized you really couldn't cum like this, but it still felt so damn good that you didn’t want it to stop. Sakura, enthusiastic as ever, stopped only to let a glob of spit fall from her lips as lube for your cock. It was hard to tell if she was enjoying this, but she made sure to keep going, doing all the work while you sat there in utter bliss.

Enough was enough, the pressure was becoming too much for you to take. You needed to bust, and all you could think about was Sakura’s sexy little mouth again. The girl must have been able to read your mind, because all it took was a shared glance of understanding before Sakura let go of her tits, letting them bounce down with gravity as you pulled her up to the couch next to you.

Sakura, eager as ever, immediately bent down over your lap and started using her hand and mouth in tandem to suck you off as fast as she could. You reached your hand over and slipped it down the back of Sakura’s panties, palming her ass and squeezing softly as you closed your eyes and focused. WIth your other hand, you lightly pressed down on the back of Sakura’s head as she worked your cock with all her expertise.

“That’s it Sakura, that’s the spot,” you moaned, pushing her head just a bit harder. “Don’t fucking stop, I’m about to cum.”

She heard you, and she obliged. Sakura, without needing your push, throated your cock as hard as she could, going down almost your entire length with each push. At this point, you were so close that you found yourself thrusting your hips up into her mouth right up until you felt yourself about to cum.

Before the final little thrust, you let go of Sakura’s ass and used both hands to push her face down onto your cock as hard as you could, lifting your hips up and shooting your load straight down her throat. Sakura’s entire core was flexed as she steadied herself, taking all of your cum directly to the neck. As you felt yourself starting to relax, the pulsing slowing down, you let go of her head.

Sakura lifted herself up, taking a heavy gasp for air as a flood of white spilled out of her mouth before she immediately went right back down on your cock, sucking it up and down, making a mess all over your shaft. She didn’t care about all the cum coating her lips, she just wanted to suck your cock until it all came out.

“Oh fuck Sakura that feels good,” you cried out, giving her ass a small slap before bringing both hands up behind your head and shutting your eyes tight again, relishing in Sakura’s blowjob.

She kept going until you were completely drained, before she started slowly licking up your shaft, collecting as much of your cum as possible on her tongue. She dropped off the couch right onto her knees and made sure to look up at you, making eye contact as she scooped up all the cum she spilled on your cock.

“You’re such a dirty fucking girl,” you laughed softly, stroking her hair while she worked.

Sakura didn’t even reply, but her lips curled up into a smile as she kept that same enthusiasm, sucking your cock until all of the cum had been swallowed. Only then, after giving your balls one final little kiss and one last lick of your shaft, did Sakura finally stop.

“Done?” you chuckled.

“Done,” she beamed up at you before suddenly getting shy.

“What?”

She paused for a moment as if she needed the courage again before speaking.

“Can I kiss you again?” Sakura asked sheepishly.

“Sakura,” you began whispering a response before having a change of plans.

Instead of answering her directly, you decided to just pull her up to you and press your lips against hers. She seemed a bit nervous at first, but you just ignored it and kept going until eventually you could feel her warm up to you. Her hands began exploring your back, while you did the same with hers, Her legs wrapped around your body as she climbed on top of you in an attempt to have as much skin on skin contact possible, intertwining your bodies together as you kissed.

This went on for longer than you had initially expected. The second either one of you pulled back to take a quick breath, all it took was the tiniest bit of eye contact before you both mutually decided to kiss again. You closed your eyes each time, getting lost in the feeling and the moment that you got to share with this gorgeous girl. Finally, after a lifetime of kissing, your lips parted and didn’t reconnect, leaving Sakura breathing heavily above you.

“Yeah,” you muttered softly.

“Yeah,” Sakura agreed with a smile.

A moment of warmth passed, your bodies still attached, while you both just looked deeply into each other’s eyes.

“You’re not in a rush, are you?” you asked softly.

“No, why?”

“Would you let me…” you began before carefully picking Sakura up and placing her onto her back beneath you. “Could I?”

“You mean like, down there?” Sakura asked, cheeks turning rosey again.

“Yes, down there,” you clarified gently, cupping Sakura’s face in your hand gently. “All the fun we had last night and I never got so much as a taste.”

Sakura bit her lower lip gently before nodding up at you and taking a deep breath. She was tense, and you weren’t entirely sure why, but you were going to at least try relaxing her. You slid down her body gently until your face was between her legs which she had bent upwards, spreading them to make room for you. She lifted up her butt just slightly to help you ease off her panties, which you unhooked from her ankles and tossed across the room.

Her pussy was as gorgeous as ever, looking as tight and wet as you knew it was, but you didn’t rush it. Instead, you pressed your lips against her inner thigh and pressed down softly. This worked, as you could hear her breathing slow down and deepen. You kissed a bit closer. A drop spilled out of her pussy, sliding between her legs, leaving a trail for you to follow.

With some careful maneuvering, you pressed your mouth beneath her pussy and gave her a single lick, sliding your tongue up her skin. She let out a sharp breath, shivers shooting up her spine as your mouth made contact with her pussy for the first time. Maybe it was just the moment - definitely was just the moment - but Sakura had the best tasting pussy you have ever experienced.

“Please just this one, don’t go lower…” Sakura stammered nervously.

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” you reassured her. “Just try to relax, if you can.”

Before going forward, you reached up with both hands and grabbed Sakura’s, interlocking your fingers. Next, you gently blew some air against her pussy, feeling her strength as she squeezed down against your fingers. Now, before she could fully relax, you pressed your mouth against her pussy, listening for her soft moan as you began prodding at her clit with your tongue.

“You’re good at this,” Sakura moaned softly, her fingers tensing up between yours. “Really fucking good.”

“I have experience,” you replied cockily when you suddenly felt a tinge of guilt stab you in the heart.

The realization of what you were doing dawned on you all at once. Would Mina actually be okay with you having your face in another girl’s pussy - especially one who she knows has a crush on you? You kinda assumed it didn’t matter after the events of last night, but all of a sudden you weren’t so sure anymore.

“Does that experience tell you to always tease this much?” Sakura whined, rubbing a hand through your hair while her lower body squirmed. “Please, I’m close.”

“Are you?” you replied, deciding to put your concerns on the backburner temporarily, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling you had in your chest and focusing instead of the gorgeous tight little pussy inches away from your mouth.

It was all so confusing, because even though you were feeling guilty, your body just naturally pounced forward and you ended up putting Sakura’s pussy entirely in your mouth with your tongue laying flat against her clit. You pressed down, swaying side to side, loving the gentle tug of your hair with each of Sakura’s little moans.

“Oh yeah, just like that, just like-” Sakura cried out softly, lifting her body up off the cushions. “I’m going to- you’re going to make- fuck- please-”

None of it made any real sense, yet it still made sense - in a way? Fuck it, not like it mattered. What did matter was the two fingers you slipped into Sakura’s pussy, at least that’s what mattered to Sakura in this moment. You curled them up, trying your best to hit the right spots while sucking on her clit. Whatever you were doing, she fucking loved it. Her moans - or rather, screams - were ecstasy in the purest form. Her voice was peaking, making all sorts of noises that every other tenant could probably hear right now.

Then, as Sakura released the loudest cuss of the morning, you felt a massive gush burst out of Sakura’s pussy and right into your mouth. You leaned back, relishing in the sounds Sakura was making right now, while using just your two fingers to force Sakura to squirt a couple more times, not caring at all about the mess she was making on you.

“Stop,” Sakura sobbed, bringing her legs together and grabbing your wrist.

The mixed signals had you smiling as Sakura refused to let you pull out your fingers, all while begging for something. You didn’t know if she wanted you to stop or to keep going anymore, she wasn’t making much sense, but this had to be one of the best orgasms she’s ever had and you weren’t going to be the one to ruin it for her. So, instead, you just continued doing whatever didn’t make sense, all for her.

“Sakura,” you whispered gently as she finally began relaxing. You slipped your fingers out carefully and spread her legs gently, leaning forward to give her pussy - which was beyond drenched at this point - a soft kiss.

“Oh,” she moaned quietly, her eyes shut tight still.

“You good?”

“Fucking amazing,” she sighed, finally opening her eyes to look at you. That’s when she suddenly became overwhelmed with embarrassment and hid her face in her hands. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“For what?” you sat up, confused.

“I’ve never squirted before, I had no idea-”

“Oh,” you started laughing as you lay down on top of Sakura and moved her hands away. “I don’t give a shit about that, it’s fine.”

“But-”

She couldn’t finish her worry before you silenced her by kissing her softly on the mouth. You could feel she was still on edge, but it only lasted a moment before you felt the shift in her body. She kissed you back, with a passion beyond what you imagined. It was so incredibly tender, as if your lover, but it didn’t last long.

“I can feel your cock,” Sakura smiled up at you.

“Uh,” you hesitated, struggling to think of a line.

“Put it in me.”

Fuck, that was probably the hottest thing she could have ever said in this moment in your mind. The amount of raw horniness coursing through your veins right now made you feel like you were about to explode from the inside. And with that one line, doubt and hesitation was simply not possible right now, your cock was throbbing - almost painfully.

Your mind was all fuzzy as you fumbled around between Sakura’s legs, trying to find her entrance. Eventually, you found yourself in position, and with one swift little push you went all the way until your balls pressed against Sakura’s soft skin. She was so fucking unbelievably wet that it didn’t matter how tight her pussy was - you were able to move with ease.

It took almost no time at all for you to find a nice rhythm - not too fast but not too slow. With your cock pumping into Sakura’s pussy, you tilted yourself forward and gave her another kiss, one she returned without any restraint. You kept it going for as long as you could, your hands sliding up to her chest and gently resting against her tits.

Nothing could have made this moment better, really, so there was almost a bit of sadness when you felt it come to an end so quickly. Of course, that sadness was completely washed away by the insane amount of euphoria you felt as your cock exploded inside Sakura’s pussy. You didn’t even feel it coming, it only took maybe a minute of fucking Sakura for you to cum this time.

The way she kissed you through your entire orgasm felt divine, she didn’t care about how quickly you blew, she just cared about making you feel good. Your cock, slipping in and out of her pussy, kept pulsing and throbbing, shooting an absurd amount of cum into Sakura’s pussy. With a final squeeze of her tits and one final kiss, you sat up and pulled out.

“My God,” you muttered as you watched your cum spill from Sakura’s pussy.

“It’s beautiful,” Sakura sighed, watching as well for a moment before scooping up the cum and spreading it on her chest. “I can’t believe you still had this much in you.”

“I don’t know how it’s even possible,” you replied, finally now as the euphoria wore off feeling a bit embarrassed by how long you lasted.

“That was so fucking amazing,” Sakura smiled at you, almost as if reading your mind once more and noting your insecurity. “You were perfect, in every way, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, you were also amazing,” you leaned forward and kissed her again before she snuggled right up against your body.

“Best breakfast ever,” Sakura whispered quietly.

“I think the coffee might be cold by now.”

“Fuck the coffee.”

“Fair enough,” you chuckled while rubbing Sakura’s side. “Alright, I should probably-”

“Five minutes?” she whispered with a vulnerability that made your heartbeat double in pace.

The way she was holding onto your body right now, there was literally no chance you’d deny her. You smiled softly to yourself, one she couldn’t see with her head resting against your chest, and leaned forward to kiss the top of Sakura’s head softly before pulling her tighter into your embrace.

Those five minutes stretched much longer than five minutes, but you didn’t care one bit.

---

A/N:

Well this came out of absolutely nowhere. Backstory, one of my fellow writers did a little writing project and the theme was "unlikely pairings". I know Mina x Sakura isn't the CRAZIEST mix, but it's still somewhat uncommon I think?! Funny enough, I also recently got an Ask about "which two odd pair idols do you think about a lot?" so this was really just all destined to happen.

Anyway, the 3k submission has now turned into a story that will be probably 20k+, so here's Part 1! Part 2 is actually already done (spoilers, there's more Mina), I'll release it in maybe a week to let this marinate a bit. Part 3 maybe a week after that. Each part should be roughly this length, with Part 3 possibly being a bit closer to 10k.

Regarding other projects! I am going to really sit down and get the next Dating Seraphs chapter going, it's well past due at this point. After that we'll see, either Roommates or Twice I think, but I can't say for sure. I don't have an insane amount of time to write at the moment, but I'm still somehow writing quite a bit!

Absolutely love the insane amount of support my community has been showing recently, seriously, you guys are the best. I can believe how supportive everyone is especially when I'm so insanely inconsistent. Feel free to give any feedback you'd like on this piece, or don't, totally up to you! Cheers <3

[my-castles-crumbling]

begging - april 30 - jegulus - background wolfstar and rosekiller - NSFW (implied sex) - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 314

“Hey, Reg? What did you take from James last night?” Sirius asked as he, Regulus, James, Remus, and a bunch of their other friends settled down in front of the TV in Sirius and James’s apartment to watch a movie.

Regulus gave his brother an odd expression. “What? What d’you mean?”

“Last night! I heard him yelling at you! He was begging you to give something to him!” Sirius insisted, frowning.

Remus, who usually stayed out of these conversations, looked over from picking a film on the TV, mouth opening with realization. “Sirius, maybe leave them alone, eh?” he mumbled after to his boyfriend. Meanwhile, James was sinking into the couch he was sitting on, mortification written all over his face, and Regulus was looking thoroughly amused.

“No, he was!” Sirius insisted. “He kept saying ‘please’ over and over! Honestly Reg, we all know Prongs likes it when you’re mean to him, that’s half the reason he’s dating you, but you should let up on him a little.”

“Please don’t,” James mumbled, face half-hidden in his hands, while Regulus all-out smirked in triumph.

But the rest of the group, who had been exchanging looks of amusement and glee, could only stay quiet for so long.

“Oi, Rosie! Wanna take something from me later?” Barty yelled out from his spot on the floor, making everyone dissolve into fits of laughter.

This, of course, was enough to tip Sirius off. “What d’you…oh no.” The way his face melted from confusion to disgust would have been comical if Remus wasn’t so worried about his reaction. “James?” he asked softly, voice barely above a whisper, as he stared at his best friend with a horrified look.

But it was Regulus who spoke up. “Don’t worry, Sirius. I gave him exactly what he asked for,” he said, grinning salaciously.

Both Sirius and James groaned, smothering their faces in blankets.

[moonstruckme]

Hello ! I hope you are okay, I have 2 Idea for the new girl/who's that girl au, so i'm sharing it with you ! First idea : she locked herself out of the flat (closed the door and left the key inside, so she is just here waiting for one of the guys to come home and hoppen the door. Second idea : she found a dog (a border collie , yeah it is clearly inspired from something that happened to me x))and she bring the dog home while she try to contact the owner. Or you can put the two idea together and she is locked outside her appartment with a stranger's dog. Thank you for reading my request , have a good day ^^

Thanks for your request angel! I did start to use both of these, but then I had an idea and the second one ended up somewhat altered haha, hope you still like it <3

cw: modern au

roommate!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You’re slurping up the last of your iced latte when the door to your flat opens. 

“Oh.” Remus stops short at the sight of you sitting cross-legged on the floor of the hall. “Hello.” 

“Hi,” you say cheerily, careful not to jostle the pocket of your hoodie too much as you stand. You pat Remus’ shoulder as you go past him. “Thanks.” 

He had clearly been on his way out, but at your entrance he circles back inside the flat. “Have you been out there long?” 

“No.” You dump your empty cup in the trash. Your pastry’s gone cold, but you think it might still be good microwaved. “Just forgot my key, figured one of you had to go in or out eventually.” 

Remus tracks your movements with his eyes, taking another few steps in from the open doorway. “Why didn’t you knock?” 

“Didn’t want to wake anyone.” 

Your flatmate makes a sound you’re becoming familiar with from him, a sigh mixed with a laugh. Bafflement meets amusement meets exasperation. “You don’t need to worry about that. Please don’t, actually. James is out on his run, but I’ve been up for an hour. And whatever he tells you, Sirius doesn’t actually need to sleep until the afternoon.” 

You grin at him as you set your pastry in the microwave. The way the boys tease each other is immensely endearing to you, but you don’t feel familiar enough yet to partake yourself. And you certainly know better than to mess with Sirius’ sleep. 

When the loud beeps from pressing the microwave buttons makes you wince, Remus gives you a wry look. 

You shrug in response. The movement causes the slumbering creature in your hoodie pocket to stir. You cup your hand over it instinctively. 

“What do you have there?” asks Remus. 

“Uh…” You imagine you look very sheepish right about now. “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to make us keep it.” 

His eyes narrow. Your pocket wiggles. “Why? What is it?” 

You reach inside the pocket of your hoodie the way a criminal suspect might reach for their weapon at gunpoint; slow, careful, showing you have nothing to hide. What you pull out is gray and striped and so small it nearly fits in the palm of your hand. 

“I found him outside,” you say. “Isn’t he cute? I couldn’t just leave him.” 

You didn’t imagine your flatmates would be thrilled about adding a fifth occupant to your living situation. You figured you’d probably have the best luck with James, but you’ve got your spiel all ready—how you’ll keep him in your room, only temporarily, just until you can find his owner. They have to live in the building, right? He was only just outside. But Remus does something you didn’t anticipate; he melts. 

“Oh,” he breathes, voice softening to a near whisper as he bends to see the tabby kitten currently cupped in your hands. “You found him by himself?” 

“I didn’t see any other cats around,” you say. You stroke your thumb down the kitten’s side. It leans into the touch sleepily. “And he was crying. You should have heard it, it’d break your heart.” 

“I’m sure. Hi, darling,” Remus murmurs, that lilt of his suddenly more prominent than ever as he scratches the kitten’s tiny head. “Hello. Were you making a fuss to get softhearted girls to bring you inside, hm?” 

You find your face warming for reasons you can’t discern. “It was a very convincing ploy.” 

“Mm, I can see that.” Remus pets behind your new friend’s ears, stooped so low he’s nearly at eye level with the tabby. His expression is all soft fondness, eyes warm and the hint of a smile ticking up his mouth. You catch yourself admiring the freckles that smatter across his cheekbones. “Are you sure there weren’t any others like him around?” 

“Not that I saw. Why?” 

“Well, there’s—” 

The microwave goes off. You react like it’s a bomb detonating, the beeping shattering your bubble of quiet and causing you to stiffen your back abruptly. Remus straightens back up, too, chuckling. He sets a pacifying hand on your head, and you relax some. This is his way of conveying affection, you’ve learned; James is incredibly liberal with it, Sirius slips it in through teasing and jibes, and Remus lays his palm atop your head like you’re a cat in need of calming. It makes you feel a bit like you’re glowing when he does it. No wonder you felt so drawn to your homeless little friend. 

You smile at him, sheepish, but you both turn when you hear the loud groan from down the hall. Sirius’ door opens. 

“Could we please stop setting off alarms and whatever the fuck before the bloody sun has come up?” he fumes, trudging down the hall. 

You look out the window, perplexed. The sun is well and high. 

But Sirius has stopped in his tracks. His eyes are fused to the kitten in your hands. “What is that doing here?” 

“I found him outside,” you say, holding him up for Sirius to see. “He’s sweet, don’t worry.” 

Your flatmate takes a step back like the creature might leap at him. “Remus—” 

“I know,” Remus sighs. “I was about to tell her.” 

You frown, bringing the kitten close to your chest. “Tell me what?” 

“That thing is fucking wild.” Sirius glares. 

“No, he isn’t,” you defend him. “He’s super friendly. He loves being pet.” 

“Nope.” Sirius shakes his head. “He comes from a twat mum, who had a bunch of twat spawn, and now they’re infiltrating our flat. It’s a fucking plot, is what it is.” He jabs a finger towards your chest, and the kitten hisses. Sirius reels back. “See?” 

“He does seem like a housecat, but there’s a colony of strays in the alley next to us,” Remus explains more gently. “One of the girls had babies before they could catch her to spay, and they all look a lot like this one.” 

“But…” You look down at the kitten nearly falling asleep again on your chest. “...he’s being so cuddly.” 

“It is strange,” Remus agrees. “Maybe he just really likes you.” 

“Um, hello.” James spreads his arms as he walks inside, sweaty and in his absurdly short running shorts. They make you stifle a laugh every time. “We’re just leaving the door open now? Is this some new attempt at being neighborly?” He, too, pauses once he sees what you have in your hands. “Oh, you’ve found one of Mrs. Norris’ kittens.” 

Sirius shudders, seemingly just at the mention of the name. “She’s brought it inside.” 

“I can see that.” James’ head cocks interestedly as he comes over. “Why?” 

“I didn’t know he had a family,” you explain dejectedly. 

“It’s good that he does, though,” says Remus, touching your elbow kindly, “isn’t it?” 

You sigh. “Yeah.” 

“And now that we know,” Sirius says emphatically, “banish it from whence it came.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “Weren’t you sleeping?” 

“I was.”

“I can see why you didn’t recognize him as a stray.” James is rubbing underneath the tabby’s chin while it preens. “He hardly seems feral at all.” 

You hum. Taking the kitten from your chest, you hold him out towards Sirius experimentally. He hisses; Sirius scowls back. 

“Seems like it’s just you,” you deduce. 

“It is not.” Sirius crosses his arms. “That thing is evil.” 

James takes the kitten from you. It goes willingly into his arms. “Definitely just you, mate.” 

[jinwoosungs]

05/01/25; 06:10pm

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

[ they make your fantasies come true ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

you were currently in bed reading a rather… heated scene in your novel. your lips were parted in response, reading each passage with a growing fascination.

i was pinned to the bed as he hovers over me, his fingertips dancing across my inner thigh while playing with the lace material of my panties. capturing my lips within his own, i could feel the way his large hand inches closer to my center before sliding a finger deep within me…

biting down on your bottom lip, you continue reading, holding your novel with one hand while trailing the other down to the waistband of your shorts.

my mind goes hazy, feeling him pumping his fingers in and out of me while collecting my juices within his calloused hand.

“you smell so sweet for me. i just can’t get enough of you.” his gaze darkens considerably when he feels the way my walls clench around him, earning a dark chuckle from him.

“here, let me help you with that sweetheart-“

before you could continue reading, you found your novel was suddenly ripped away from you as you came face-to-face with the onychinus leader himself.

his gaze was burning into you, nostrils flared while he glares at the book in hand. “has my kitten been finding other means to please herself without me?”

your mouth goes dry, hearing the accusation in his voice as his jealousy was barely contained. with your other hand still buried within the waistband of your shorts and panties, you found yourself unable to move or speak as sylus read a few passages from the book.

“his lips were immediately settled on my core, and i could feel his tongue delving deeper inside of my heat- oh sweetie, don’t you know that even these mere printed words are no match for me?”

tossing your novel aside, he grips at your hand in an almost harsh manner, forcing you to remove your hand from your aching sex before joining you in bed. he settles your body on his lap, spreading your legs while playfully biting down on the shell of your ear. you shiver in response when he whispers to you, “let me show you how it’s done, sweetie.”

without giving you another warning, he shoves his hand down your panties, thrusting two of his thick fingers in and out of your heat. such hedonistic friction was enough to make your back arch against him. while you were left panting, subjected to his every ministration, you allowed him to keep fingering you as you felt your arousal leak out of you and into the palm of his hand.

sylus had merely brushed his thumb against your swollen clit, yet it was enough to leave you reeling. your release was felt coursing through your veins as you cried out to him before spilling yourself on his calloused hand, earning a low groan of approval from your beloved.

feeling drained, you were slumped against him, your body feeling like it had been turned into putty in the aftermath of it all. your heart was still racing when sylus brushed his lips against your temple, his sinful whisper in your ear causing you to tremble when he tells you,

“i hope you’re not getting too tired, kitten. because i for one am far from being done with you.”

“zayne, you’ll let my dreams come true, right?”

zayne had never given into you so fast before. just seeing the way your lips were jutted out in a pretty little pout was enough to make his heart clench (and the blood rush directly to his cock.)

he reassured you that he’ll do anything to make you happy, which was why when you told him to strip himself of all his clothing-

he follows your demands with no questions asked.

once he was left bare for you, he feels his eyes go wide at the sight of you dressed in a lacy set of undergarments. his gaze turns hungrier at the mere sight of you, yet he was quickly caught off guard the moment you push him back into your shared bed.

he attempts to sit up, only to have your hand gently gripping at his wrist before tying it to the bedpost. frowning at the sensation of the familiar material, he meets your gaze and asks, “are you using one of my ties?” flashing him a playful grin, you finish tying his hand to the bedpost before giving him a chaste kiss against his lips. “guilty as charged~”

the sight of your playful smile and the way you proceed to tie zayne’s other hand to the bedpost makes a surge of heat course through him and directly to his cock. by now, it was standing at full attention for you, aching and pulsing with need as he waits with bated breath for your next move.

once he was restrained did you finally settle yourself on top of him, gently playing with his erection before slapping it against the silken material of your panties. his breathing hitches in response to the friction, knowing that he needed so much more from you-

yet you knew what he wanted, being so intimately connected to him that you didn’t need his words to tell you how he felt. letting out a sigh of his name, you settle yourself directly above him, pushing your panties to the side before taking him into you.

zayne’s response was immediate, with the doctor now rendered a mess of low whimpers and groans while he pulls at his restraints. letting out a breathless giggle, you brace yourself on his chest before proceeding to ride him. letting out loud moans, you play with your lacy bra while quickening your thrusts.

“oh zayne… thank you so much for letting me live out my fantasies. i just can’t wait to make you fall apart for me.”

and he needed no further urging to do just that, succumbing himself to your wicked smiles and the way you had complete control over his body.

you and your boyfriend had simply planned to just relax back at your apartment while having a movie marathon-

yet you found that it was all forgotten the moment you forced xavier to sit back on the couch with his legs spread. his sweats and boxers had been carelessly tossed to the side as you allowed yourself the pleasure of playing with his cock.

“ngh- starlight…!” xavier keeps moaning your name, hands already gripping at your hair when he feels your tongue tracing at the veins on his cock. as if addicted to the sheer taste of him, you take in xavier’s cock as deeply as you could while stroking him with your hands.

by now, his wanton grunts and groans of your name were far more entertaining than whatever movie was playing on your television screen. wetting his cock with your mouth alone, you felt the way he tightens his hold around your hair, alerting you to how close he was to releasing.

just as you were prepared to bring him deep within your throat, you were suddenly removed from his cock with a speed that leaves you reeling. confusion was painted on your expression when you found yourself laid back on the couch with xavier hovering over you while breathing heavily.

lifting up your shirt, he reveals your naked chest to him, making him groan as he pinches at your hardened nipples. “sorry, but i refuse to come anywhere that isn’t inside of you, starlight.”

feeling the heat against your cheeks, you allow xavier to settle himself between your legs. his hands briefly touch at the waistband of your panties before sliding it off of you mere seconds later. with nothing but your shirt on, he slowly guides his cock towards your heat, letting out a groan while tossing his head back when he manages to push himself fully into you.

the movie had already began rolling its credits scene, yet you were so caught up in the red hot pleasure xavier had gifted you to even realize it.

it starts out innocently enough, with you begging rafayel to take a bath with you. giving you a gentle smile along with a kiss, rafayel agrees to your demands before heading into the bathroom with you. when your clothes were thrown haphazardly on the bathroom floor, the lemurian takes you within his embrace before carrying you into the tub with him.

you were simply basking in the warm waters surrounding you, with your back settled against rafayel’s chest when you felt a grin spreading across your lips.

it was time to initiate your plan.

“hey rafe, how long do you think you can breathe underwater for?”

he ends up laughing at your question. “princess, you’re joking right? you know exactly who i am, so why would you-“

you place a finger on his lips, turning around to face him, your movements causing some water to spill off the sides of the tub. with a come hither movement, you settle yourself on the opposite end of the tub, fully facing rafayel while spreading your legs. “i just wanted to know if you could… use your mouth to assuage this annoying ache between my legs?”

his eyes darken considerably in response to your gentle command, with your eyes shining with mischief as you beckoned him to come closer to you. “come on, rafe- don’t you want to make your princess feel good and happy?”

with a click of his tongue, rafayel shakes his head briefly before diving into the shallow tub, making you gasp when you felt his slender hands grip at your waist. settling himself between your thighs, you let out a soft mewl of his name, feeling his lips already at your center.

your breathing hitches when rafayel manages to slide a finger inside of your heat, pumping it while pinching at your swollen clit each time his hands brushed against it. you were now gripping at the edge of the tub with both hands, feeling the way rafayel thrusts his tongue into your aching sex. as he was setting a pace with his mouth alone, you were basking in the sensation of it all-

only to be broken out of your reveries when something hot and hard quickly replaces his mouth. your moans were echoing throughout the room when rafayel comes out of the shallow water’s depths, his cock now completely sheathed within you as he set a rapid pace.

“sorry princess, you were just too alluring to ignore.” the artist gives you a sheepish grin before proceeding to pound himself into you, giving you an angelic smile even as he proceeded to do unspeakable things to your body.

caleb felt empty inside the moment you told him you wouldn’t be joining him in the shower, and he felt so pathetic for wanting to pout at the fact that he would be alone.

with a dejected sigh, he looks at you still settled on his bed, simply flipping through the pages of your novel while not even sparing a single glance at him. he runs a hand through his hair, muttering a few curses before heading into the bathroom while slamming the door shut-

not even noticing the playful grin that graces your features.

feeling petty, caleb locks the bathroom door before proceeding to strip himself of his clothes all while letting out a huff. yet before he walks into his shower, he has a sudden change of heart and ends up unlocking the bathroom door (just in case you ever changed your mind.)

standing beneath the shower spray, he was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t hear you entering the bathroom, stepping out of your clothes while kicking off your panties. with his back facing you, you enter the shower stall and immediately press a kiss against his muscular back.

he stiffens in response to the feel of your kiss against his skin, facing you with wide eyes. momentarily caught off guard, caleb shakes his head before composing himself. he flashes you a cocky grin while wrapping his arms around your back. “i knew you couldn’t resist me, babe.”

flashing him an innocuous smile, you brace yourself against the wall before placing your naked core over his flaccid cock. with his eyebrows furrowed together, caleb was about to ask you what you were doing-

but felt his words die within his throat the moment he felt your silky walls slowly begin stroking his cock.

“pips-“ your nickname falls from his lips with a groan, with the blood rushing directly to his cock in response to your cunt stroking him. before he had ever gotten together with you, the colonel could only dream of having you like this-

yet now, it seemed like you were able to make every single one of his fantasies come true.

“hah, i’ve always wanted to do this to you, caleb.” you let out a soft moan, continuing to stroke his cock with your cunt. not wanting you to slip and fall, caleb was able to steady your hips with his two hands, not even protesting to how hard you were making his cock now.

caleb’s groans kept echoing throughout the shower stall, and he waited until he was so erect that it became painful before making his move. shoving your back into the wall, caleb tells you to jump-

and you do so just seconds later, with your lover making you wrap your legs around his waist before he slowly pushes his cockhead within your heat. your back arches in response to the thick intrusion of his cock within your walls, nearly feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head when he begins his swift pounds within you.

“i’ll never get enough of you, baby. i’m always gonna be so fucking obsessed with you.” caleb admits to you in a raspy voice while placing heated kisses against the side of your neck.

and truth be told, you wanted this man to be utterly obsessed with you-

which meant that he’ll never even think of ever leaving your side.

end notes: i miss thirsting for my men 🤤 so have this unedited thirst post ♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[heesimp]

Can you write a breeding kink 😳 smut story for stepdad hoon and stepdaughter? Like sunghoon wants to have a baby but the daughter is reluctant. cause she's worried her mom will caught them.. Still sunghoon was able to convince the daughter saying that he doesn't care about her mom anymore

idk why I couldn’t write this better haha but the jay one I’m about to post is so yum

+++++

“Come on, please?”

Sunghoon’s persistent. You’ll give him that. He’s been rubbing his semi hard cock against your ass for the past few hours when you reject him for the umpteenth time. It isn’t that you don’t want to. God, you want to. But what will your mom think?

While your body looking over your assignment as you lean in front of the kitchen counter, Sunghoon’s got you trapped between it and his body. His crotch repeatedly rubs against your covered ass cheeks while you try to ignore it.

“You’ll be such a good mommy,” he whispers against your ear. Sunghoon trails wet kisses down your neck and he smirks when you shiver because of them.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“No, I’m not. I want to see my cum take to give us a baby, sweetheart. I want to take care of you so much.” Sunghoon licks a stripe up your neck and you arch your back at the feeling. He uses this opportunity to thrust his hardened dick between your cheeks until you grip the counter.

“B-But my mom will know.”

“I don’t care if she does. I want to put a baby in you. Not her.” He snakes his hands down to your pussy and moans when his fingers touch your wet panties through your shorts. “You’re wet enough for me to put it in.”

It takes little effort for him to pull your shorts and panties down your body before lining up with your hole. His dick stretches you like never before and it’s your first time having sex with him without protection.

“No more condoms,” he moans with an exhale as he slides all the way inside of you. “Just me and my cum.”

“F-Fuck.”

“You’re so tight. I bet none of my cum would leak”

Sunghoon pounds into your wet pussy and the drag feels sensational. He’s already cumming from being inside of you and you can feel the hot cum splattered across your walls, but he doesn’t stop thrusting in and out of you.

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

❦ more than just a kiss from him.

paring: caleb, sylus, zayne, xavier & rafayel x f!reader (separate)

tws : nsfw, creampie (vaginal), holding orgasm, gentle sylus, possessive and mean-ish caleb, breeding kink, multiple of rounds, cockwarming, hickeys, slight dom!reader in rafayel’s part, tit play, spanking, messy sēx, no protection, rough sēx and pūssy eating.

synopsis : when it turns out to be more than a kiss.

note : this might be very ooc. ✌🏼✌🏼✌🏼 not proof read!!

★ CALEB ?!

You thought it would be just a kiss. Sweet. Gentle. Something shy and nervous like the way Caleb always looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching.

But the second your lips touched, something cracked.

He kissed you like he was starving.

One hand fisted in your hair, the other yanking your hips against his. His mouth crushed yours open—tongue hot, hungry, licking into you like he’d die without it. You moaned, clinging to his chest as he shoved you back against the wall of your apartment, grinding his cock through his pants right against your needy, throbbing cunt.

“You think I can just kiss you,” he growled against your lips, “and not want to fuck you?”

Your breath hitched. He laughed—low and dangerous—dragging his mouth down your neck and biting hard, right above your collarbone. “I’ve been holding back for weeks, baby. You walk around in those little skirts and smile like you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

“I—Caleb—”

He didn’t let you finish. He scooped you up, carried you to your bed like you weighed nothing, and laid you out like an offering. His hands were everywhere now—palming your breasts through your shirt, thumb flicking over your nipple, mouth locked onto your pulse as you squirmed under him.

“Take this off,” he commanded, voice thick, tugging your shirt over your head. “Wanna see those tits bounce while I ruin you.”

You shivered. “Y-you’re different tonight.”

“I’m done pretending I don’t want to split you open and keep my cock in your sweet little pussy all fucking night.”

Your panties were soaked. He dragged them down with his teeth, groaning as your scent hit him. His fingers spread your folds open, hot breath fanning over your clit.

“Look at this pussy. So wet already. Dripping for me, pipsqueak.”

You gasped when he dragged one thick finger through your slick slit, pressing down on your clit just enough to make your hips jolt. “Sensitive already? That’s perfect.”

His mouth came down—hot, messy, tongue lapping, teasing, devouring you like he couldn’t get enough. You came too fast, sobbing his name, thighs twitching around his head.

But he didn’t stop.

He licked you through it. Over and over. Until your moans turned into squeals and your legs tried to close, but he held them open, growling.

“Nuh-uh. You’re gonna take it. I’m not even inside you yet, and you’re already falling apart.”

You were a mess when he finally came up, face wet with your slick, mouth red and swollen. “Bet you feel empty now, huh? Pussy clenching around nothing.”

He undid his belt, pulled his cock out—thick, veiny, flushed—and dragged the tip through your folds. You cried out.

“Beg me,” he said softly, teasing your entrance. “Beg me to fuck you. Or I’ll just stay right here, tip inside you all night, and never move.”

You whimpered. “Please. Caleb, please fuck me. I need it, I need you inside—”

He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, his cock stretching you open, filling you so deep you couldn’t breathe.

“Ohhh fuck,” he hissed, head falling forward, his arms trembling from how tight your pussy squeezed him. “You feel fucking unreal. So hot, so fucking wet…”

You clung to him, legs wrapping around his waist. But he didn’t move.

“Stay still,” he whispered. “We’re gonna cockwarm first.”

“C-cockwarm?”

He groaned. “Just wanna feel this pussy hugging my cock. Let it know who it belongs to.”

He buried his face in your neck, holding you close while your pussy clenched around him, fluttering from the pressure and the fullness.

You whined, hips trying to grind. He slapped your ass.

“I said still. You want me to move? Earn it.”

You tried—God, you tried. But every throb of his cock inside you made your walls clench tighter, your clit ache more. He kissed you again, slower now, while his hands roamed your trembling body.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl,” he whispered. “Keeping my cock nice and warm. Bet you could cum just from this, huh?”

You nodded. Tears welled in your eyes. “Please… it hurts… I need more…”

Then he moved. Just once. Deep, slow, grinding his hips in a lazy circle.

You screamed.

He grinned. “There she is. That’s my sweet little mess.”

He fucked you slowly at first, each thrust deep and punishing. But when your second orgasm built—too fast, too hard—he stopped, buried to the hilt.

“Not yet,” he growled. “You don’t cum until I say. Wanna feel you beg for it.”

You were shaking. Babbling. Your pussy throbbed and clenched around his cock, milking it, desperate.

He gave you more. More thrusts. Sloppier, meaner. Until your legs were shaking and your orgasm hit like fire.

But he didn’t stop then either.

“Oh no, baby. You said you needed it,” he growled, slamming back in so hard the bed creaked. “So take it. Take every fuckin’ inch.”

Your scream broke into a whimper as he pounded into you, cock thick and hot and deep, dragging against every sensitive part of your cunt that was already overstimulated, already wrecked. Your nails clawed down his back but he didn’t care—he was lost now, fucking like he wanted to carve himself into your body, branding you from the inside out.

“Feel that, pipsqueak?” he panted, voice rough in your ear. “Feel how tight you’re gripping me? Like this pussy knows it belongs to me.”

You nodded—more like cried—your thighs trembling, eyes rolled back. “C-Caleb—too much—”

“Too much, but you’re still fuckin’ dripping,” he snarled, pulling out just enough to see your slick stretch between your pussy and his cock. “Still clenching like you want another one.”

He grabbed your hips, dragging you to the edge of the bed, one leg tossed over his shoulder as he fucked down into you—hard. The angle hit your g-spot so perfectly it shattered what little breath you had left.

Your pussy pulsed, spasmed, begged for release.

But he didn’t let up.

“I want you to cum again,” he hissed. “Wanna feel this pretty cunt suck me dry. Show me how greedy she is.”

You sobbed, body convulsing as you came again—harder this time, tighter, wetter. You clenched around him so violently he gasped, stuttering inside you.

But still, he didn’t pull out.

He stayed deep, hips grinding, cock twitching inside your flooded pussy. “Fuck—fuck—you’re gonna milk me, baby. Gonna fuckin’ breed you. Fill this tight little pussy so deep it leaks down your thighs.”

Your eyes flew open, heat flooding your cheeks, your brain fuzzy.

“Wanna feel it?” he moaned, hips jerking. “Wanna feel me cum inside, warm and thick, make you mine from the inside out?”

You whimpered, barely able to speak. “Y-yes—please—Caleb—cum in me—fill me—”

That broke him.

He slammed in once more, buried to the hilt, and came—deep, hot spurts flooding your pussy while he moaned against your throat. You felt it pulse inside you, every thick rope of cum spilling out around his cock as he held you tight and trembled through it.

And even after, when your legs were shaking and your cunt was fluttering around him, he didn’t pull out.

He stayed there, cock still thick, keeping every drop inside.

“Mine,” he whispered against your throat. “You’re fuckin’ mine now.”

★ SYLUS ?!

It started with the way he touched your face.

Just the backs of his fingers at first—brushing your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The kind of touch that asked permission without words.

You leaned in.

And that was all he needed.

His lips were soft, careful at first. A breath. A whisper. Then firmer. More insistent. Like he’d been holding himself back for too long.

Sylus kissed like he was memorizing you—slow, exploratory, reverent. His fingers threaded into your hair, and your hands gripped the front of his jacket as he pulled you closer, pressing your chest to his, warmth bleeding through every layer between you.

When you tugged him toward your bed, he paused only to look at you.

“Are you sure?” His voice was low. Calm, but laced with something trembling just under the surface.

You nodded. “I want you, Sylus.”

That’s when his restraint broke.

He undressed you slowly, eyes flicking down your body like he was drinking in every inch. When your shirt came off and your bare breasts spilled free, his breath hitched for the first time that night.

“They’re so soft,” he murmured, fingers cupping them, brushing thumbs across your nipples. “I’ve dreamed of touching you like this. Every time I closed my eyes.”

You whimpered as he bent down and kissed one, gently laving his tongue over the peak, suckling until your back arched. The sensation—his mouth, his breath, his voice in your ear—made your thighs clench together.

“Please, Sylus…”

He kissed down your stomach, between your legs, until he was kneeling at the edge of the bed. His hands coaxed your thighs open, reverent as they slid over your skin, soothing you as if he already knew how nervous you were.

But you were soaked.

And when he finally parted your folds, you heard his breath catch again. “So wet for me already… Is this all for me?”

You nodded, face burning. “Only you.”

He kissed you there, too. Slow. Unhurried. Licking and tasting every drop like he was savoring it.

You came with your hands in his white hair, thighs trembling, gasping his name like a prayer.

And then—he kissed you again, mouth wet with your taste, and laid you back gently, body braced above yours.

When he pushed into you for the first time, you both froze. You felt the stretch, the fullness, the intimacy of it all. And he—he just stared at you. Eyes wide, glassy. The soft red of his irises glowing faintly in the dark.

“You feel like heaven,” he whispered, voice tight, shaking. “I can’t believe this is real.”

You clung to him as he began to move—slow thrusts, deep and warm, grinding more than pounding. He kissed you through it, moaned softly against your mouth as you tightened around him.

When you clenched again, your orgasm building, he stilled deep inside and whispered, “Stay like this a little longer. Just want to feel you wrapped around me…”

You cockwarmed him like that—his length nestled deep inside your fluttering heat, your pussy clenching with every pulse. He groaned softly, holding still, his lips pressed to your neck, your breast in his hand, thumb brushing your nipple until your entire body ached.

Then he started again—slowly building up a rhythm, fucking you through it as your second orgasm bloomed. And this time, he didn’t stop. Not when you came. Not when your thighs trembled. Not when you gasped his name like it was the only word you knew.

“Another,” he murmured against your chest, licking over your nipple, wet and hot. “Let me give you another, sweetheart. Let me make you cum until you forget everything else.”

You lost track of how many times he made you fall apart. Your bodies slick with sweat and release, the sheets beneath you soaked and tangled.

Between rounds, he stayed inside you—never pulling out, never letting go. His cock throbbed, sensitive, twitching inside your still-quivering walls as you cockwarmed him, panting into his chest.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he whispered.

“You won’t,” you breathed, kissing his jaw, stroking his sweat-damp hair. “I don’t want you to.”

The final time he came, it was messy—both of you already so sore, so overstimulated, but so needy. You cried into his shoulder as he filled you up, whispering soft praises into your ear:

“You’re perfect. You’re mine. You feel so good around me.”

When it was over, and your bodies were tangled in the blankets, his softening cock still buried inside you, Sylus pressed a kiss to your temple and said quietly:

“I’ve never made love like that before.”

You smiled, your eyes fluttering shut. “Neither have I.”

★ ZAYNE ?!

It was supposed to be just a kiss.

You were curled up on the couch together after a late-night walk—your legs over his lap, your body tucked into his warmth, the city lights outside flickering through the glass. He was playing with your fingers, tracing over each knuckle with a focused calm that only made your heart race more.

Then he leaned in.

And you tilted your chin just enough to meet him halfway.

The kiss was slow at first—deep, soft, like he had all the time in the world to taste you. But the moment your tongue slid against his, he groaned into your mouth and the hand on your thigh gripped harder.

“I wasn’t planning this,” he muttered against your lips, voice low and warm like whiskey. “But you keep looking at me like you want me to lose control.”

You bit your lip. “Maybe I do.”

That did it.

In one motion, he lifted you into his arms and carried you to the bedroom. You clung to him, heart pounding, breath shaking. He laid you down like you were something precious—but when he kissed you again, it wasn’t soft anymore. It was hungry.

Zayne hovered above you, slipping your shirt up over your chest, eyes narrowing when your breasts spilled free. His thumb brushed your nipple, slow and deliberate.

“You’re always this sensitive?” he asked, voice teasing but darkened with need.

“Only with you…”

“Good,” he murmured, leaning down to suck your nipple into his mouth, tongue hot and wet as it circled. “Because I’m not stopping once I start.”

His hands moved lower, peeling your clothes away one piece at a time until you were bare beneath him. You reached for his shirt, tugging it off, and gasped softly at the heat of his skin, the hard muscle beneath.

Then—his pants. He unbuckled them lazily, watching your reaction as his cock came free. Long, thick, flushed at the tip and already dripping precum.

You stared. He smirked.

“Don’t get shy now. You’re the one who started this.”

When he spread your legs and settled between them, cock brushing your soaked entrance, your breath hitched.

“I’ll go slow,” he promised, rubbing the tip against your folds. “First time should feel good. You’ll take me, inch by inch.”

And you did.

It stretched you open slowly, deliciously, your wetness easing the way as he pushed deeper. You clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders. He kissed you through it, patient but possessive, hips rocking deeper until he was fully inside.

You whimpered. “Zayne—”

“I know, baby. I know.” He kissed your neck, your shoulder. “So tight around me. Can barely move.”

But he did move.

His hips rolled in smooth, deep thrusts that hit places you didn’t know could feel so good. The sound of it—wet, slick, obscene—filled the room, your gasps joining his low groans.

When he leaned back to look down at where he disappeared into you, his jaw clenched.

“Messy already,” he said softly, almost reverently. “You’re soaking me, sweetheart.”

You arched beneath him, chasing more friction, your legs locking around his waist.

“That’s it,” he whispered, faster now. “Fuck—just like that. Taking it so well. So greedy for me.”

You came hard, crying his name, your pussy clenching around him so tight it stole his breath. But he didn’t stop. He pulled out only to flip you over onto your stomach, pulling your hips up and sliding back in with a groan that rumbled in his chest.

“Didn’t think one would be enough, did you?”

You shook your head, eyes glassy. “More… please, more…”

He gave you more.

Round two was rougher—thrusts deeper, faster, his hands gripping your hips, holding you steady as he fucked into you with slow, perfect precision. The wet slap of skin echoed through the room. He pulled your hair gently, just enough to make you gasp, then leaned forward to bite at your shoulder.

“I want to wreck you,” he said, panting now. “Want you to feel me tomorrow. Every time you sit. Every time you close your eyes.”

You clenched again, and he groaned. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

Your orgasm hit hard and fast—legs trembling, mouth open in a silent scream. He stayed deep through it, cock twitching, then finally pulled out and flipped you into his lap.

“Ride me,” he said, voice thick. “Use me.”

You obeyed, straddling him, sinking back down onto his cock with a cry. His hands gripped your hips as you rode him, your tits bouncing, your slick dripping down his thighs. He leaned forward to suck your nipple again, moaning against your skin.

And when he finally came, he held you down, burying himself as deep as he could. You felt the warmth flood inside you, and he whispered against your mouth:

“Gonna fill you again. And again. You’ll be leaking me for hours.”

☆

You ended up cockwarming him between rounds, your body slumped against his, both of you trembling and breathless.

His hand rested on your thigh, thumb drawing lazy circles. His cock, still thick, pulsed inside your overstimulated cunt.

“Think you can take one more?” he asked, voice low, steady—like he already knew the answer.

And you did.

Three more, actually.

★ XAVIER ?!

You barely remembered how the kiss started—just that it was slow at first. Sweet. Xavier’s lips brushing against yours like he was still holding back, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to take more than that.

But Xavier always knew exactly what he was doing. That softness was bait.

His hand slid behind your neck, fingers tightening until you gasped, and that was all the invitation he needed. His tongue slipped between your lips, hot and hungry, licking into your mouth like he owned it. And god, he kissed like he wanted to ruin you with it—groaning low in his throat, tilting your head just right so he could swallow every sound you made.

“Open your mouth, baby,” he rasped between kisses, “let me in properly.”

You did, dazed, lips parting further—and the way he moaned when you obeyed made your thighs press together. He kissed like a man who hadn’t eaten in days. Like he needed you to breathe.

And then his hand slid down your back—slow, teasing—until it gripped your ass and squeezed.

“You feel this?” he growled, grinding his hips up against you. You could feel his cock already, thick and heavy through his pants, rutting against your thigh like he couldn’t wait another second. “I’ve been hard for hours. Thought about you all day. You’ve got no idea how badly I need that pussy.”

You shivered at the bluntness in his voice—no sweet talk, no pretending he wasn’t a fucking animal beneath all that calm. His mouth found your throat, nipping, sucking, biting. Leaving marks. Owning you.

“Take off your clothes,” he said, already pushing your top up. “Or I’ll rip them off. Your choice.”

You stripped fast, heat crawling over your skin, heart pounding. And Xavier didn’t wait—his hands went straight between your legs the moment you were bare, fingers sliding into your soaked pussy like he’d been there a thousand times.

“Look at that,” he murmured. “Already wet. Fuck, you're so messy, baby. Were you this desperate just from kissing me?”

“Y-Yes—”

“Good girl,” he cooed, slapping your ass hard enough to make you jolt. The sting made your cunt clench around his fingers.

"You like that? Getting spanked while I play with your little pussy?"

“Mmnh—Xavier—”

Xavier chuckled low. “You’ve got no idea what I’m gonna do to you tonight”

He pulled his fingers out just to suck them clean—groaning like you were the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted—then shoved you onto your hands and knees.

And when he pulled his cock out, you moaned without even seeing it. You could feel it in the air. Heavy. Veiny. Big enough to make your thighs tremble with need.

He didn’t tease. He didn’t prep. Just grabbed your hips, lined himself up, and sank into your dripping pussy in one slow, brutal stroke.

“Fuck—” he hissed, grabbing your ass with both hands as he bottomed out. “Tight—so fucking tight around me. This pussy was made for me.”

You cried out, nails digging into the sheets, overwhelmed by how deep he was. How full you felt. Xavier was splitting you open like he was carving his name into your body.

Then he started thrusting. Deep, punishing strokes that made your ass slap against his thighs, loud and wet and obscene.

“You hear that?” he groaned. “That's your pussy talking. So fucking loud for me. So messy.”

You could barely breathe—tears pricking at your eyes from the pace, from how hard he was fucking you, spanking your ass in between every few thrusts until your skin was stinging and your legs shook.

And then he leaned over you, pressed his chest to your back, and whispered:

“I’m gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna fuck my cum so deep in that little cunt, you’ll feel it for days.”

“Nghh—Xavier—”

“You want it, don’t you? Want me to breed you. Stuff you full and make sure no one else can ever touch this pussy.”

“Y-Yes—please—”

“Say it.”

“I want you to breed me—please—“ you sobbed, feeling the edge already building, already crashing down.

“Good fucking girl.”

He pounded into you faster, deeper, cock hitting your cervix again and again until you were gushing around him, pussy convulsing like it was begging to be filled.

And when you came—screaming his name into the pillow—Xavier groaned so loud it sounded almost like a growl. He slammed into you one last time and came deep, cock pulsing as he spilled hot, thick cum inside you.

“Take it,” he groaned. “Take all of it. You’re mine now.”

You felt it drip out the second he pulled back—warm and messy, leaking down your thighs. And Xavier just watched it, lazily stroking your ass with one hand.

“Don’t move,” he murmured. “We’re not done. I’m not leaving until I’ve filled you again. And again. And again.”

★ RAFAYEL ?!

Rafayel whimpered into your mouth when you bit his bottom lip—soft, needy, just the way you liked hearing him. His fingers curled in the sheets, hips twitching beneath you like he didn’t know what to do with all the heat running through him. And god, you loved him like this. Face flushed, golden eyes glassy, his body warm and trembling under yours.

“You’re being good for me tonight, hm?” you whispered against his cheek, dragging your lips down to his neck. “Letting me do whatever I want?”

Rafayel nodded, voice catching. “Y-Yeah… please—keep touching me.”

“Mmh, that’s what I like to hear.”

You kissed along his throat, slow and purposeful, then sucked a mark right under his jaw. He gasped when you did it—hands twitching, cock throbbing against your inner thigh. You could feel how hard he was. How badly he wanted you to touch him there. But you didn’t rush. You layered his skin with red, wet hickeys, each one messier than the last, until he was covered in evidence of your mouth.

He shivered every time you pulled back with a little pop. Every sound he made was like a prize. A reward. Your sweet, perfect boy.

“Look at you,” you murmured, sliding your hand down his chest, over his stomach, until you finally wrapped your fingers around his aching cock. “Dripping already. Is that all for me?”

“Mmh—yes,” he breathed. “Please…”

You pumped him slowly, watching his hips buck into your grip like he couldn’t help it. His eyes fluttered shut, brows pinched like he was already close just from your hand alone.

And you adored it. How sensitive he was. How easily he melted under you.

“Can I ride you?” you asked softly, nuzzling his cheek. “Or are you gonna fall apart the second I slide in?”

He let out a breathy laugh, cheeks burning. “I—I don’t care… I just want to feel you. Please—need you so bad.”

You kissed him again, longer this time—tongue teasing, just enough dominance to make him squirm—before you lined yourself up and sank down onto his cock in one smooth motion.

He moaned loud, helpless.

“Oh my god—” he gasped, hands flying to your waist as you bottomed out. “You feel… fuck, you feel so good.”

You held still for a moment, loving the way his body trembled, the way he clung to you like you were the only thing holding him together.

“That’s it,” you whispered against his ear, “take it, baby. Let me fuck you.”

You started to move—slow, deep rolls of your hips, dragging his cock through your slick heat with aching precision. Rafayel groaned, head tipping back against the pillow, his mouth falling open. He looked ruined already, and you’d barely started.

“You gonna cum already?” you teased, dragging your nails lightly down his chest. “You always get so desperate when I’m on top…”

He shook his head weakly. “N-No—just… feels too good—”

You leaned forward, kissed him again—then whispered against his lips:

“I want it inside. Every drop.”

His cock twitched hard inside you.

“You want that too, don’t you?” you cooed. “Want to fill me up, make sure I’m dripping with your cum. You wanna breed me, Rafayel?”

“Yes,” he whimpered, voice cracking. “Please—please let me—I want it so bad—”

You clenched around him, hips grinding harder now, riding him in steady, deep thrusts that had him unraveling beneath you.

“Cum for me, baby,” you breathed. “Fill me up. Don’t hold back.”

He came with a cry, cock throbbing inside you as he spilled deep—hot and heavy and so much it made you gasp, made your pussy flutter around him like your body was drinking it all in. He clung to you like he couldn’t breathe without you, nails digging into your hips as you milked every last drop from him.

You didn’t stop moving until he was shaking, overstimulated, begging softly against your neck.

And then you kissed him again—gentle this time—cupping his cheek, stroking through his hair.

“You did so good for me,” you whispered. “Look how full I am.”

He peeked down between your bodies, face red and eyes wide, watching your pussy slowly leak his cum around the base of his cock.

“…Can we do it again?” he asked quietly.

You smirked.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’m not done with you either.”

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!