#the little pudge on his sides????

[tsireyqs]

idk why i’m extra h word today but i’m thinking abt…… dilf! jake sully……….

[captainfern]

thinking about captain john price being built like this

oh… (18+, gn!reader)

in my humblest of opinions, the ‘strong dad bod’ is one of the sexiest fucking builds a man can have and i can’t stop thinking about them

especially if price had one *screams into my pillow like an idiot*

can you imagine how obsessed he’d be with draping his body over yours ?? like if you’re at the kitchen counter, or standing on your toes to reach something on a high shelf, price would be smushing himself right up against your back

big arms wrapping around your torso, large hands splayed over the softness of your belly, the warm mounds of his pectorals and stomach pressed firmly against your back

he’d tuck his head against your shoulder and kiss your neck and the side of your face, pushing more of his weight onto you

such a good hugger, so warm and cozy and safe <3 would also be used as a human weighted blanket and i’d hope to god he’d trap me beneath him oh my god

imagine running your hands up and down the smooth, fatty ridges of muscle that took up most of his abdomen and arms. the hair too !! ugh i’d just pet him for hours like a little cat lol

*sarah paulson voice* THE HORNY IS ESCAPING !!!

thinking about the feel of this kind of body draped over your back as he fucked you hard into the mattress, both of his hands on your hips and keeping you pinned so that he could rut into you like a man starved

mmm or his large hands wrapped around your legs and keeping them bent up towards your head while he drills into you, his own soft tummy rubbing against yours

price with a muscly dad bod like this would make you put your legs over his wide shoulders while he’s eating you out, one hand on the pudge of your lower stomach and the other squeezing the flesh of your arse

god his cock would be so fucking thick like don’t even get me started 😭

he’d stretch you open so well too, make you come almost one too many times before he’s easing himself into you and stretching you open with a moan of your name

or or you’d ride him and constantly running your hands and/or nails up and down the soft dips of his body, moaning as his cock hit so deep and almost made you come within mere seconds of sinking down onto his cock lmao

i’m so horny for price and this type of body oh my god i just can’t

[stray-cat-with-internet-access]

Sleeping with Simon Riley

I´m 100% convinced that this man is the little spoon.

When you both go to sleep he is inmediately laying on his side with his back to you; he is not ignoring you, he just sleeps better with that broken nose of his in that position, doesn´t want to disturb you with his snores.

He is a really big guy, so even if you wanted, laying your head on his chest or shoulder makes your neck hurt and if he is the one spooning you tends to crush you in his sleep or ends waking you up everytime his body spams.

So you climb in bed and cling behind him like a backpack. Throwing your arm around his midsection you place your hand over the soft pudge of his tummy, the broad expanse of his shoulders block any light to reach your eyes in the morning and his butt cushions your thights, keeping you warm all night. His hand rest on top of yours, drawing circles in your knuckles until you both fall asleep.

And he is never going to tell you, but everytime he wakes up at 4am to go to base he guides your hand to his lips and kiss it before getting up and sneak out of the bedroom to let you sleep.

You always noticed tho, your smile hidden by the way you snuggle against his pillow, trying to keep the ghost of his presence, just a little bit more.

[ssweetleaf]

set phasers to stun.

summary: joel wants you to sit on his face— you think you’re far too heavy for something like that.

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

includes: SMUT 18+, face sitting/cunnilingus, dom!joel, i wrote this with an age gap in mind, but it isn’t really specified so make it up girlies, a bit of spanking, slight insecure!reader, pet names (honey, girlie, baby, babygirl, sunshine) a tad of a daddy kink (i’m sorry, it’s me, what do you expect?)

a/n: sorry i’ve been gone again, i’m back in my pedro pascal phase and this just came out of nowhere lol. let me know what you think. dividers credit goes to @saradika-graphics <33

“Quit your whinin’ and sit the fuck down.”

You were hovering over Joel’s face, thighs twitching and burning from their position, careful not to bump any part of yourself into him— too scared to fully sit yourself upon his face like he had so desperately asked for earlier in the day.

“Joel— m’too heavy,” you muttered, cheeks heating, shifting your weight from knee to knee and hands on the headboard, knuckles whitening from your firm grip.

He lifted a big palm against the cheek of your ass in a sharp, searing slap, quelling your whirring thoughts for just a moment, the burn of his hand print thick and heavy upon the globe of your ass.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he growled, teeth clenched, eyes boring into yours from underneath you and you would’ve frowned at the sight of the protruding pudge of your belly when you looked down, but the constant smoothing of his callused hands against the soft rolls and swells of your body had you stifling it.

“Now listen here, honey,” he huffed, shifting his face to the side to press a few spongy kisses to the thickness of your thighs. “I ain’t gonna tell ya again.”

Joel was firm with his words, the low timbre shooting throughout your core and flooding your folds with a surge of arousal.

“Y’gonna take a seat, and y’gonna ride my fuckin’ face till I say you can stop, y’hear?”

“Joel, I—Ow!”

Another spank, on the other cheek this time, but just as hard, the print blooming in the shape of his calluses and the ring on his finger.

“Girlie.” The fond pet name was now a word of warning, almost daring you to disobey him. “Sit, now.”

You swallowed thickly, and with a shaky breath you lowered yourself down, easing onto his handsome face, the broad slope of his nose prominent against your slit, and you gasped at his deep inhale, breathing your scent deep into his lungs, almost savouring it before nudging your clit with the tip of his nose.

Your lashes fluttered, threatening to close once he mouthed a kiss to your pussy lips, teasingly sucking your folds into his eager mouth, careful to avoid your poor, puffy clit and keep you on edge.

“Look at this pretty cunt, hm?” he cooed, gruff and thick, muffled slightly from between your thighs and beneath your soft belly. “She’s been beggin’ for this, baby and you’ve been keeping her from me.”

His tongue peeked out from between his lips, swiping a long, fat stripe from your slick, fluttering hole, to the engorged jewel of your clit.

“Oh!” You whined, threading your fingers through his thick curls, tugging slightly once his lips enveloped your pearl, suckling it into his mouth, humming into your heat, the vibrations sending shockwaves throughout your cunt and you moaned out at the feeling. “Joel, fuck.”

He pulled back only slightly, brow raised and eyes dark and glistening— a big palm squeezed at the fat of your ass. A little warning.

“Language.” he clicked his tongue, turning to nuzzle into the thickness of your thigh, biting into it with dull molars and sharp canines, urging another wave of slick to surge your poor cunt.

“S-sorry!” You squeaked out, nails scratching against his scalp the way he liked as a little apology. “Keep going, please.”

You could feel his smirk against your flesh, tongue swiping at the marks he bit and sucked into the sensitive skin of your thighs.

“There she is,” he hummed, “now ya beggin’ for it, aren’t ya, baby? Knew you’d come around some time.”

Joel dove back into your cunt, lapping crudely at your hole, picking up silver strings of arousal on his tongue before lolling it over your peaked clit— smacking kisses to it, practically making out with your poor pussy whilst humming happily into your heat.

“Just needed some persuadin’, huh, sunshine?” he spoke into your pussy, voice muffled and barely legible through your hazy brain. “Just needed your ol’ man to eat this pretty pussy from down here, didn’t ya, babygirl?”

You cried out, nodding profusely at his filthy words and personification of your cunt, tears ebbing at your waterline and slowly easing over.

“Been havin’ so much trouble with my damn back— just layin’ here while you ride my face is so much better, sugar.”

Knowing your man wasn’t in pain, that his usual achy back and knees were quelled and sated by his current position, instead of the place he so often took between your legs with a hunched back and sore knees, had you relaxing somewhat.

‘Makin’ y’daddy a happy man, baby,” he groaned, fisting at the fat of your hips, leaving you tight and secure against his face. “fuckin’ dripping down my throat.”

You could feel the tightening in your belly, coiling throughout your insides, warming you up and leaving you panting, fisting at any part of him you could find.

“J-Joel,” you panted, chest heaving up and down, up and down, nails in his scalp, in his shoulder blades, even reaching behind you at his thighs. “so close.”

Your speech was clipped, lips stuttering and drool slipping from the corner of your mouth.

“Ah ah,” he shook his head, lips still suckling at your clit after every other word. “None of that, you ask for daddy’s permission— you know what to do.”

You whined again, long and drawn out, bucking your hips and huffing out— there was a warmth upon your cheeks that blossomed, creeping down your neck and teasing the tips of your ears, all shy now when asking your man to cum.

“Please, Joel,” you sighed out, thighs squeezing at his ears, clamping him tight underneath you. “can I cum? Pretty please?”

“Please, what?” He huffed, gruff and quick, tongue lolling and rolling over your spit-slick clit before thrusting the pink muscle into your quivering hole. “Ain’t got all day, hon.”

“Daddy— please, daddy! Need’a cum.”

“Atta girl, such nice manners— taught you good, baby girl. Cum f’me.”

[tacticalprincess]

MDNI — cw: f!reader, car sex, age gap

farmhand!könig who can’t get enough of farmer’s daughter!reader….

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 🌾

he’s always pestering you, making it impossible for you to complete your chores on time most days. he’s addicted to the playful gleam in your eyes when you look up at him, the way your soft body feels in his rugged hands. the excitement that thrums under his skin as the two of you dance around your overprotective dad, sharing a secret that tethers you together long after you leave his shed at night, lingers thick in the air at the dinner table and in passing. the more of you you give to him, the worse his craving for you gets, and the less he seems to care about getting caught.

he sneaks a hand over your mouth and lifts you into his old, beat up truck while you’re taking your dry sheets off the clothesline, the sun hot and heavy overhead. you squeal against his palm, writhing in his hold before he sets you on his broad lap, letting you turn to face him.

“don’t do that! you scared me.”

he laughs it off, already snaking his large, calloused hands under your shirt to thumb at your hip pudge. cant waste any time when he has you alone. insincere apologizes mumbled into the soft, sweat slick skin of your neck, huffing in your sweet scent. “cant help myself with you teasing me like this. bending over in these tiny shorts, showing all the animals your ass.”

you giggle, back arching into the older man’s greedy, firm touch, angling your head away to give him more access to your neck. “the cows weren’t exactly my target audience.”

“talking about me, liebchen.” he clarifies. the strong smell of musk and mud invades your senses, the soft fabric of his white tee chafing against your hard, braless nipples through your flimsy shirt. “dirty little girl, aren’t you? going to get me in trouble one day, i know it. what would your father do if he knew his daughter was trying to seduce his best farmhand?”

he renders your ability to speak null and void when he slots his hands into your shorts and squeezes you for all you have to offer, spreading your cheeks and making you grind your hips down on his hard bulge, the friction from your jeans borderline painful against your clit. groans throatily at how wet you are already, his fingers slipping into your hole to gather your slick before he retracts it entirely, showing you how it sticks to his thick digits. “hm? looks like this cute little cunt missed me too.” a cocky grin plagues his sharp features, smearing your juices over your pouty lips dirtily, just to see your face scrunch up in disgust. he grabs your chin, pulling you forward to lick it off.

it’s all happening too fast, exhilaration clinging to your bones, heat gathering at your core. you look around the field warily, mind racing with doubt but your body betrays you, bucking into his mouth when you feel him litter sloppy, wet kisses along your chest, pulling down the strap of your shirt to let your cute boobs spring free. if it wasn’t hot already, you’re burning up now. “könig, not out in the open like this. what if daddy sees?”

“i’ll be quick, maus. just want to play with you.” he promises, though you have a sneaking suspicion it won’t be over that soon. “can you feel how hard you make me? you’re all i can think about, it’s impairing my ability to work. cant have that, can we?”

decidedly, you don’t want to be the cause of a sudden switch in the quality of könig’s farm work, or at least that’s what you tell yourself when you let him push your shorts to the side, sitting yourself down on his thick, hard manhood. he swallows every heavenly noise that tip from your soft lips onto his tongue, clashing teeth and jaw from desperation. lets you grit your kitten nails into his scalp for purchase, hot bodies pressed flush together in the cramped space while he lifts and drops you down until your thighs start to tremble and lock around him. the heels of your boots dent into your plush thighs, his are planted to the floor as he pile drives his hips into you, thrusts deliberate and meticulous in a way that awakens sweet parts you didn’t know you had.

it’s a shame, he thinks, having to hide away in a dirty truck with such a pretty thing like you. too soft and sweet for a man like him, but his addiction to you makes you impossible to resist. it’s unclear who’s corrupting who in this situation.

if you were back home with him in austria, he would’ve proposed to you already, declaring you as his for everyone to see. as it is, he bounces you on his cock until you’re seeing stars, the ambience of the farm surrounding you, with the slowly setting sun as your witness.

[emmyrosee]

How about a little something of Samu doing a shirtless car wash 👀

OOOOOOOO 👀👀👀

———

For the nth time that hour, you peek out the window of your house to watch Osamu be, once again, the most handsome creature to walk the face of the earth.

It’s hot outside, so hot you can’t help but fan yourself with your hands or random pieces of paper around the house. The ac broke, leaving you shrouded in heat and Osamu to entertain himself with the hose as he polishes and washes your cars, your new clean car glimmering in the sun and the dirt rinsing off of his and onto the ground below.

His hat is turned backwards, and you know it’ll give him a ridiculous tan line but you’ll somehow find it beyond attractive regardless, and his shorts sit low on his hips, revealing the dips of his hips and abs that rest happily amongst a small bit of tummy pudge you love to bite.

Water glimmers on his chest, and you sink your teeth in your lip as he turns to face you, a smirk curling on his cheeks and a wink from his grey eyes. You’re snapped out of your daze however when he sprays the hose at the window, and you squeal and duck away out of instinct.

“You wanna help me?” He calls to you, and you giggle and shake your head.

“Just enjoying the show!” You call back. He laughs and shakes his own head, going back to washing his car, muscles shifting and bulging as he moves. You grab a can of soda from the fridge and make your way outside, and he groans gratefully.

“You’re literally the love of my life,” he pants, grabbing the can and rolling it along his neck, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he sighs in relief. A finger then flicks the tab of the soda open, and he takes more than a few grateful sips- your eyes fixate on the bobbing of his adams apple.

In your staring, you can’t help but shriek as a splash of cold water covers your body, soaking your clothes and sending straight shivers down your spine. It would feel awful had you not been overheating just moments ago. “Osamu!” You squeal, and he chuckles.

“What’re you starin’ at?” He teases.

“You. Always,” you assure. He smiles and tosses an arm around you, his body warm from the sun and you burrow into his side. “You know… maybe we should do a shirtless carwash for onigiri miya- bring in some business.”

He snickers, “you want that many people seeing me shirtless?”

You pause. He looks down at you and you look up at him.

“Never mind.”

“That’s what I thought.”

[lovebugism]

shy!reader goes to the pool with Eddie and is too afraid to wear her swimsuit in front of him? Maybe she’s wearing clothes over her bikini/one piece and doesn’t want to undress at first because of her nerves lol

hope u like it! — you still get a little nervous showing your body, but eddie takes it all in stride (shy!fem!r, established relationship, cw for mentions of body insecurity, 1.1k)

Eddie’s rubber flip-flops are much too big on your feet. You fight to keep them on and match his longer strides at the same time. He leads you down the scenic trail of the Harrington vacation home with one hand curled intently around your own. He doesn’t seem phased by the dirt clinging to his bare feet.

“Think Steve’s folks will get mad if we skinny dip?” he jokes over his shoulder, wild curls billowing in the late afternoon wind.

You shrug. “I don’t think they own the lake, so…”

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” he scoffs.

“Me neither,” you concur with a quiet laugh.

A set of wooden steps lead off the trail and towards the shore. They creak under your weight, ancient and half-eroded with time. Eddie stands beside you on the dock, lips curled into a pink, lopsided smile. “Well, what they don’t know won’t hurt ‘em,” he quips before reaching for the hem of his shirt.

You giggle when he lifts the fabric up and over his head. His milky white torso is left on display for you, sprinkled with sparse hair and a couple of faded tattoos. His body is lanky and lean — stomach soft with gentle pudge where his happy trail begins. You couldn’t hide your leering if you wanted to.

“You’re crazy,” you say, still laughing.

“Crazy for you,” the boy croons. 

You watch him reach for the buttons of his jeans, fumbling with them for a moment. Your chest swirls with a strange, hollow feeling. “Wait— Are you serious?” you wonder with wide, glimmering eyes. You’ve never felt totally comfortable swimming in a bathing suit, let alone naked.

Eddie shrugs his freckled shoulders and tugs his jeans down his scruffy thighs. “Yeah. Why not?”

He’s left in his thin, plaid boxers now. He doesn’t seem nearly as fazed by it as you do. Heart thrumming like an anxious hummingbird, your eyes dart over your shoulder and back to him. “What if the others see?!”

“Then let ‘em see,” he chuckles, golden like the early setting sun. “Who cares?”

I care, you almost say, ‘cause you’re too pretty, and I’m not pretty enough. 

You swallow your loathing and instead reply, “Steve would never let you live it down if he caught you out here. You know that.”

Eddie’s bare feet pad against the creaking wooden dock. The sound is mostly drowned out by the waves ebbing and flowing beneath you. Nothing could hide the heavenly sound of his laughter, though. “What? That I’m skinnydipping with the prettiest girl in Indiana?” the boy retorts with a boyish chuckle. “I wouldn’t want him to let me live it down.”

You swallow hard, not swayed by the compliment. Your unsure gaze flits to your feet and the black sandals Eddie lent you on the way down. You see his paler, bare ones come into view just before his calloused palms smooth over your waist — above the oversized t-shirt you wear, which also belongs to the boy in front of you.

“I’m just… I’m just kidding, you know? About the skinnydipping thing,” Eddie assures you, suddenly serious and much quieter with it. His head ducks down to catch your falling gaze. His chocolate eyes sparkle beneath the yellow sun. His lips curl into a lopsided smile. “We don’t have to do it if it makes you uncomfortable. We never have to do anything you don’t want, you know that.”

You purse your lips to the side and think for a moment. You’re not nearly as at ease swimming naked as he is, but you’d be silly to turn down the opportunity to be alone with him. You have spent the entire weekend babysitting, after all.

“Can I keep my bathing suit on?” you wonder sheepishly.

Eddie scoffs. “Of course you can! You can do whatever you want, doll. I’m followin’ your lead here.”

He smacks a kiss to your lips, mouth tasting of nicotine, soda, and strawberries — like nostalgia and springtime.

“Can you turn around?”

Eddie meets your coy look with a wider smile. “Yeah. Sure,” he hums and steps back from you to spin on his heel. You know he’ll see you in your bathing suit before you step foot in the water, but you’ve always felt distinctly smothered by his gaze. You don’t feel half deserving of the adoration always swimming in the deep brown of them.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, you know?” he quips without looking at you.

“It’s different,” you insist, pulling your t-shirt up and over your head. You fold it neatly before setting it gingerly on the dock. You’re left in the pretty one-piece you thrifted before the trip — a floral number that dips low at the chest and ties into a bow at the back.

Eddie doesn’t really understand, but he figures he doesn’t have to. He’ll do whatever makes you most comfortable, no questions asked. “Sure,” he nods. “Can I look now?”

You hesitate for a reason you can’t name. You feel more at ease with Eddie than anyone else in the whole wide world — and besides the fact that he’s seen you in much, much less — you shouldn’t be as nervous as you are now.

“Yeah…” you waver.

Eddie peeks at you over his shoulder for a moment before turning to face you fully. His pink lips purse and a low whistle sounds between them. “Damn,” he mumbles.

You fight back a smile and look away from him, wringing your anxious hands into a knot. “Hush…”

“You’re a total smokeshow, baby.”

“Eddie!”

“Don’t know why you wanna hide from me so bad…” he teases lowly, gravitating towards you without thinking. His hands are warm and wide as they smooth over your sides. His palms curl around your lower back and idle there, fingers lingering just above your ass. “All I wanna do is look at you, and you won’t even let me…” he jokes, mostly serious, but with a playful pout on his lips.

Your arms cross between your bodies. You glare up at him with pretty doe eyes that swim with all the love you have for him. You couldn’t pretend to be annoyed if you tried. “It’s ‘cause you’re so nice…”

His brows raise and disappear behind his fluffy bangs. “You’re shy because I think you’re hot?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “It’s weird.”

“Maybe,” Eddie laughs. He figures it’s on-brand enough for him, as the resident freak and all. But loving you has never felt unnatural or strange. It feels normal, like an instinct he’s always had, something he’s always been destined to do. So he just tilts his pretty head and smiles sweetly down at you. “Can’t help it, though.”

[userlando]

call me your fool — oscar piastri

oscar piastri x fem!reader [1.7k] summary: he's pretty good at making your legs shake, but he's even better at taking care of you in the aftermath. warnings: 18+ implied smut & explicit language, aftercare and fluffy banter a/n: wrote this initially as a blurb, but it took on a life of its own and I just kept expanding on it until I got this. thank you for all the love lately, it means the world to me!! please don’t hesitate to leave feedback <3

It feels like your breath has been stolen from you, sucking in air through your mouth because simply breathing through your nose isn’t enough. The ache in your lungs remind you of when you go for those intensive runs with your boyfriend, where your ten kilometre jogging makes you tap out as your side cramps, whining until he eventually leads you to the nearest shop to treat you for an ice cold drink.

The sweat on your skin lays like a film, clammy and warm and it takes a while for you to blink the spots away from your eyes. It takes even longer to turn your head where it lays on the pillow, finding brown eyes staring back at you with a smile dripping with so much amusement that you would’ve laughed if you had the strength to.

“You alright?” Oscar asks, like he hadn’t just rocked your world and simultaneously turned it upside down fifty times over.

There’s a lot to be said with the way your legs are shaking, splayed out in front of you on the bed. He eyes them up appreciatively before reaching for the covers to cover your lower half as best as he could. It makes your chest expand with adoration for him, a smile playing on your lips when he scoots closer to you.

“It feels like I’ve ran a marathon.” You reply after a beat, throat dry as you swallow. “Your stamina is on a whole new level right now.”

It makes him laugh when your eyes widen in amazement, reaching a hand up to smooth your hair away from your face. He watches your skin pebble at the touch of his hand, trailing a finger up the side of your throat to your jaw.

“The perks of being a formula one driver, I guess.” He says it so modestly that you laugh, your warm huff of breath hitting his finger when he thumbs your lower lip lovingly.

You accept the kiss when he bends to give it to you, a little chapped from the previous activities but you lick into his mouth like you’re starved. It makes Oscar’s stomach turn, how needy you always are for him. It makes him feel good. Great. Like he can conquer anything if he has you by his side.

He can’t help but trail his unoccupied hand up to grasp your throat, hearing you whine and feeling you swallow against the palm of his hand. You press into his hold, almost urging him silently to put pressure on it but Oscar knows that you’ve reached your limit for tonight, you’re way too sensitive and he’d hate to cross the line even though you’re asking for it so prettily. But he can’t resist his hand travelling down your sternum, feeling the pudge of your stomach and the way it dips when you suck it in, in anticipation. Like you’re waiting for him to touch your centre and bring you to the fifth high of the night.

He stops right over your bellybutton, smiling against your lips when you stop kissing him to glare. Your faces are too close and it makes the both of you go almost cross eyed. Oscar pulls back a little to get a better look at you, breath hitching in his throat at the way your eyelashes frame your eyes so prettily; How kissable your mouth looks. You look well and truly fucked, and Oscar’s chest inflates in pride because he did that.

“You’ve really missed me, huh?” He bites his bottom lip to keep the smug smile at bay, and you roll your eyes even though your mouth is twitching with a held back smile.

You act like you hadn’t missed him, but you really had. Granted, you’d only been away from each other for two weeks but they had felt like years. There was only so much video calling and texting you could do before you grew tired and sad, wishing that the distance between the two of you could lessen and you could touch.

Oscar knows how much you had missed him, not only because you’d voiced it out loud, but because he’d missed you just as much; If not more. That’s mainly why he’d skipped the dinner with the team in Singapore in favour of locking the both of you in his hotel room, determined to make the most of this night before the race sucked every ounce of energy from his body.

“Only one part of you.” You grinned as you palmed the top of his thigh, watching him squirm at your touch as you got dangerously close to where he was sensitive and spent.

He needed at least half an hour to recuperate, but there was no stopping the slight twitch in his groin when your thumb nudged him.

“You’re a shit liar.” He leaned his head down far enough to bite your shoulder, making you squeal with laughter. He always loved how ticklish you were.

“You’re a shit boyfriend.” You said with no heat behind it, the smile on your face defeated the purpose of it. “You’re supposed to be carrying me to the bathroom and draw me a bath. Where’s my bottle of water and the tiramisu you promised me, Piastri?”

Oscar’s smile grew wider the longer you rambled, watching you silently. He loved when you got into these moods, playful and teasing after sex. Especially when he’d wrung you dry of orgasms and could get his fill of you by looking at you, letting you playfully jab at him when just moments ago, you were begging for him to be nice to you. To let you come.

“You’re not allowed to leave this bed.” He said lastly and your eyebrows shot up in amusement.

“Oh really?” You sat up in bed and stared him down. “What if I starve to death?”

“Then you’ll just have to resort to cannibalism and eat me. I hear it’s a trend these days.” He offered and you stifled a giggle.

“That’s a generous offer, I’ll take it.” You said with a nod, scrambling to swipe away the covers so you could swing one leg over to straddle him.

Oscar’s hands immediately found your hips, placing them there as you palmed his chest for support. You almost got lost in his beauty, how he managed to look as gorgeous as he did beneath you. The pink of his cheeks and the redness of his lips, it was all too breathtaking.

“Now, where to start?” You posed the question to yourself, bending down and making a show of inspecting his body. Like you didn’t know every inch of it already.

Oscar suppressed laughter as you hummed.

“This looks like a good place.” You said, touching his collarbone. “But this does too.”

His breath hitched in his throat when your fingers stroked the delicate skin of his throat, right over his pulse. It jumped in excitement under your fingers, and you must’ve felt it but he didn’t have time to analyse your face before you bent down completely to mouth at his neck.

The way you licked and sucked was way too aggressive not to leave marks, but his nerves sang with pleasure and excitement because a big part of him wanted you to mark him up. It would make things more fun when the both of you arrived at the paddock tomorrow, and he’d surely go for a shirt that did fuck all to cover it.

Oscar stroked his hands up your naked back, mouth falling open in wordless pleasure as you found his sweet spot; Right under the lobe of his ear.

You were so into it, his heavy breathing in your ear and the taste of his sweat on your tongue that you barely noticed when one hand left your body. What you did react to was when his palm made contact with your asscheek, a resounding sound echoing in the room and you jumped at the contact.

Oscar was grinning when you sat up, eyes wide and mouth gaping in shock and he didn’t dare to blink as he gripped a handful of flesh in his palm; Watching your eyelids flutter in pleasure.

“No funny business.” He warned you and you opened your eyes to pout at him. “Don’t give me that look. I’m fucking spent and you are getting in the bathtub.”

“Aren’t you getting in with me?” You frowned sadly, finding one of his hands to grab.

He pulled it closer to his mouth and separated each finger to kiss the tips of them. The little loving gesture made your stomach tighten.

“I’ve got some room service to order, don’t I?” He smiled. “You wanted that tiramisu, no?”

You gave him a slow smile as you slid off his body, swinging both your legs over the edge of the bed and Oscar took a moment to stare at you. His eyes flitted from head to toe and you squirmed a little under his attention when he sucked his lips into his mouth; Like he was holding back on saying something.

He didn't have to say it though, everything was showing in his eyes and the flush that was creeping up his neck and blossoming gorgeously over his cheeks.

"I think I want a different kind of dessert." You said, stretching a hand out and wiggling your fingers dramatically.

It made your boyfriend smile, and eventually grab your hand so you could pull each other up. It was a struggle and your legs were still shaking like your legs were bambi on ice, which was a little embarrassing. Oscar placed both hands on your naked hips in silent support, guiding the both of you into the vast bathroom of the hotel room.

"What am I gonna do with you?" He asked the question in your ear, voice low enough to send shivers down your spine as you craned your neck to peer up at him over your shoulder. "So insatiable."

The grin that you were working to keep off your face finally broke out, and Oscar leaned his head down to press a kiss to it.

"With you? Always."

[angelplummie]

here for revenge.

being lily's best friend - you grow up with her - you're in the donaldsons orbit for all your formative years. you develop a crush on art that turns into love as you grow older. your home life isn't so glamorous. you spend lots of weekends at the donaldsons. art has tucked you in. brought you snacks when you stayed up late for movie nights, making you and lily promise not to tell tashi. you were there when art and tashi got divored, held lilys hand and pretended not to be happy inside at the thought of getting closer to art.

lily gets into college - a big smart one because she has tashi's ambition and leaves you behind, you're still stuck at home because your dreams have always been smaller.

maybe its not appropriate, to still spend time with art. but he's lonely. tashi left, and now his daughter has and you're the only one left in his life that actually wants to be around him, that has always looked at him with stars in your eyes. its probably not healthy. there should be a boundary there. your lilies, not his.

but you like being around him and he likes having someone to take care of. you come over and he makes you eat something healthy and you needle him about spending all his time at home and how he should get out more, and he rolls his eyes, tells you he should be saying the same to you, you're young and beautiful and you should be dating around.

but how can you date around when art donaldson is your dream man? when you're happiest at his side, eating what he makes you. you want more though. you want to share his bed, warm it for him, you want to make him not so lonely, you want him to stop seeing you as a little girl and as the adult you've grown up to be - so you start wearing less and less around him. start acting more and more like a housewife.

art accepts it without even realizing. now you just need to find the right opportunity to pounce.

WHEW. this one is long so buckle up

“art?”

“mr donaldson.”

you roll your eyes.

“mr donaldson, how come you never started dating again?”

he chopped the lemon with a deft clunk, eyes never leaving the knife.

“never felt the urge.”

“what does that mean?”

“what i just said. never felt the need to.”

“hm.”

you sat on the island, next to the chopping board. your legs swung haphazardly, and you watched art as he chopped.

why was he playing this game? he could’ve told you to leave, to stop coming back and bothering him, that this was inappropriate. and yet. he didn’t even tell you to get your sorry butt off the counter, or some such dad-ism. the low glow of the many warm lamps that adorned such a luxurious house illuminated art so softly, he looked as young as the day lily was born. he was as fit as back then, if not meatier. he didn’t have the pouch your dad had, but the years had given him a thickness. instead of wasting away like most lean men did, he struggled to the other side. he got broader. layer upon layer of muscle encased in a thin finishing of fat. he was skinnier when you were a kid, but he had no reason to be lean now. under his chin a tiny hammock of pudge rested as his head tilted down, kissed by light stubble. his blonde hair was streaked in silver, but that somehow made him younger looking. made him glow. he had grown it out, by your suggestion. he was everything in the world a man should be.

“what about you?”

“i hate boys. they’re all stupid.”

“you got that right. you’re too good for all of them, never settle.”

“maybe it’s just boys my own age. theyre so immature.”

arts wide chest heaves. his eyes flick to you then flick back down. you see it all, and cross one leg over the other.

“maybe.”

“what were you like when you were my age?”

he laughs at the memory.

“stupid, immature, evil. if i was anything to go by you should swear off men entirely until menopause.”

air left your chest cavity.

“i don’t wanna wait. i want a fully formed one.”

you watched the muscles in arts forearms flex as he squeezed the lemon onto salad. the main course was cooking, was singing loudly on the stove. art had gotten into cooking after the divorce. it took all his attention and put it in one place, something complex and delicate and time consuming. it helped to clear his head. it wasn’t helping right this second.

“i shouldn’t say that,” he said curtly,”boys your age aren’t so bad. give them a go and quit hanging out with an old man.”

“but i like you, old man.”

art was so harsh on himself. he really wasn’t that old. and you really weren’t that young.

he pressed his lips together and kept squeezing. his pink lips, that gave his face the everlasting youth it held. he shrugged his shoulders in that way he did when he was confronted with the truth of your arrangement. there was something going on. something very, very, very wrong. you were the same age as his daughter. 3 months younger. he was the worst man in the world. the worst person to ever breathe. what could he do though? tell you to go? tell you to leave his house and never come back? what would become of you then? without him, what pillar of paternity would you rely upon? what new low would you reach? what men would you come across, and what would you do to please them? while he gingerly entertained you, you dangled something in front of his face that others would not have the restraint or morality to resist. if you had to move to another target, your next victim might not care so deeply for your wellbeing. were you not altogether safer, sitting in his kitchen, eating his caesar salad, rather than inhaling second hand cigarettes from old wrinkled fucks who might murder you, or worse-

“art?”

“mr donaldson.”

“you got a bunch of lemon pips in the salad.”

“oh.”

he set down the lemon.

“are you ok? you seem tense.”

“i’m good. are you cold? i can turn on the heating if you like.”

“no. it’s actually quite warm in here.”

he hears the zip of your hoodie and starts away from the island, under the pretence of getting a paper towel to deposit the lemon seeds on. your jumper clatters to the counter, and you watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. low cut top. he knows that’s what you’re wearing. because that’s all it’s been for the past 2 months. your mini skirt flowers around you as you sit, but when you stand each swish and sway of the fabric is a death sentence. god forbid you take the stairs for some ungodly reason.

“hey, you know what you said about never having the urge?”

oh, fuck off, he thought. fuck off. leave him be. leave him alone. release him.

“yes.”

“you can’t really mean that can you?”

“sure i can.”

“i mean, you can. but i don’t think you do.”

you twirled a strand of hair in between your fingers. your stomach grumbled, loud enough that he could hear. you were so hungry you could die, but if you ate what art was frying your breath would smell like fish all night.

“let me check the salmon.”

“i’m not that hungry. you can’t mean that you never had the urge to. everyone has urges.”

“well sure. but after tashi, i needed a breather. a grace period, if you will. you can’t go from marriage with a woman like her right into dating.”

“but it’s been 3 years. you must be over it by now?”

he ignored the hope in your voice. ignore, ignore, ignore.

“i am over it. but. women scare me.”

he walked languidly over the salmon. it was ready.

“i don’t scare you, i’m a woman.”

a woman. he turned off the stove, and turned to fix you with a stare for the first time tonight. a woman. that was not the word he would use to describe you. your eyes were the size of saucers, and you bat your lashes languidly, like you knew how much you were making him suffer. you sat up pin straight, and twisted your spine to make eye contact with him. your body. he tried not to look. tried not to look in front of you and see the twisted grin come across your lips. but he was a weak man. the weakest of men, and his eyes dragged over where a fatherly view should never cross. your perky new tits, the press and curve of your ass against the counter, the plush of your thighs. it seemed you had grown up overnight, and didn’t know you were still a baby. you’re a baby. you knew what you were doing to him. you knew. he blushed involuntarily.

“you scare me most of all.”

his voice trembled. he hadn’t meant to say that. hadn’t meant to dignify you will any response at all. it had crossed his mind and then it crossed his lips.

your eyes lit up with extreme delight. he liked to make you happy, but his stomach churned with the thought of why.

“why?”

he turned back around, and plated up your salmon, adding potatos and asparagus from the same pan, drizzling it all in the residual oil.

“why art?”

“mr donaldson.”

a twinge of irritation tickles your stomach. what was he fighting this for? you’re all grown up now. you both knew what was going to happen. he was resisting fate, the inevitable.

all your life you had known he was the man you were meant to be with. from that first time he kissed your forehead as you dozed off on the couch, thinking you were asleep. when his strong arms would carry both you and his daughter, flinging you around, threatening to dunk you in their backyard pool. when he would catch your eye in the rear view mirror as he drove you around and winked. he was so nice. so nice and brave and kind and warm, and if you had to be with any man it should be him because you’ve loved him since you were 8, and now you’re old enough to claim it. you’re not just a dumb kid with a crush. you love him. you understand it being one sided back then. but it isn’t anymore, and you wouldn’t let him deny it. with gliding footsteps you approached him, drawing closer every second he didn’t turn around. a hand rests on his shoulder blade.

“just stop,” you breathed after a pause.

his spatula clattered to the pan with a metallic thunk. you pull your hand away like he burnt you. he gripped the counter with a sigh and hung his head.

“you stop. stop it now,” his voice was stern. you felt yourself shrink. art was never stern.

“i know what you’re thinking, and it’s not going to happen. this has gone on far too long and it stops right now.”

a mere few paces from his wide curved back, you blink. the urge to touch him is overwhelming. you want to press your hand to his back, feel him under your palm and tell him you know he wants this. you know he wants this just as bad as you do.

but you don’t, because he’s angry at you, and he’s never been angry at you before.

“i’ve let you come here and cooked you food and watched movies with you because you’re a good kid. because i knew you as a kid and i know your problems with your father and i wanted to be there for you when lily is away. but you have taken this too far. you’re my daughters best friend. i have cleaned up your vomit twice, i baked you a cake for your 13th birthday- it’s not right. i’ve tried to be understanding, i’ve tried to ignore it, but you never drop it. never. your lack of self respect is staggering. you have to drop it right now or, im sorry but you can’t come back here anymore.”

every muscle fibre was clenched. if the counter top wasn’t marble it would’ve crunch and fell away under his grip. he couldn’t take it anymore. he didn’t know how much longer he could be good. didn’t know how much longer he could take resisting you.

maybe he was harsh. but it was the right thing to do. the only thing to do. he rested his elbow on the counter, and between his forefinger and his thumb held the bridge of his nose. he exhaled loudly. he hadn’t meant for it to come out that way, hadn’t planned it. but now it was out. he had stared the elephant in the room dead in its eyes. he felt lighter, somewhat liberated.

until he turned around after a few too many seconds of silence to see you turned away from him, slightly hunched over. he stepped closer, and saw your hands covering your mouth. you body jolted, and you drew in quick, grasping breaths. you were crying. he said your name, and you didn’t turn to look at him.

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry mr donaldson.”

all the relief he felt was replaced by swift, acute, crushing guilt. your hair fell over your face, shielding you from him. he said your name once more. you sniffed.

“hey, hey hey hey.”

against his better judgement, and because of the aching of his heart, he took you gently by the shoulders, and turned you to face him.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”

tears spill from your eyes and you wipe them away with a heavy hand, refusing to meet his eyes. his neck craned down to your eye level, his thumbs began tracing circle in your shoulders. a thoughtless gesture but one that made you cry even harder.

“i’m sorry. i don’t know what i was thinking. im just so sorry.”

“hey, it’s ok. it’s alright.”

“it’s not alright. i’ve ruined everything. i’ve made it- so- weird. i just thought that you- you wanted me. i’m so stupid.”

your mascara runs, painting your face with your turmoil.

how could you be so dense? you had been making him uncomfortable. he didn’t want you. the only reason he even let you hang around was obligation. because of what you meant to lily. you didn’t mean anything to him. you were just some kid. did he even think you’re pretty? you bet he didn’t.

worse than that, you had disappointed him. him. he was supposed to be everything your dad wasn’t. and now he was disappointed. you had failed. you had ruined everything. what even were you? were you even human?

“don’t. you’re not stupid. don’t say that.”

“i’m sorry. i just- i wanted to make you happy. that’s all i ever wanted. i wanted you to be happy with me. you were so- so- so crushed after the divorce, i-i just-“

he guides you over to the bar stool, and you let him. you sit across from each other. his hand touches your cheek, the other holds you shoulder still. the touch of his hand quietens your babbling, your eyes round and wet and open.

“you do make me happy.”

your lips parted, plump with crying.

“i do?”

he cringes at the hope in your voice, at the feeling in his chest that it stirs. the feeling in his whole body at touching, after so many years, your soft skin. the last time he held your face you were 8, crying over a bumped knee. he had very different feelings now than he did then. sympathy and concern had ebbed, making way for much darker, much more corrosive emotions. he felt guilt and want broil in the chambers of his stomach, and the evilness inside him told him how easy to would be to get what he wanted. how close he was.

“yes. you’re my favourite buddy, we have a great time together,” he ruffled your shoulder like you pat a dog, speaking quick to placate you.

the hope in your eyes dwindled.

“so,” you sniffled, “you don’t feel anything for me? you don’t-don’t want me at all?”

with your convulsive sobbing your chest rose and fell, and with each jolt you spilled further out of your thread bare top. he closed his eyes, and swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing. inhaling deeply, his fingers released your shoulder.

“it doesn’t matter what i want.”

“yes it does, it matters the most,” you answer immediately, tears gone from your eyes, now sliding down from your water line and down your cheek, “what do you want?”

what does art want? when was the last time he asked himself that question? years. at least. he drew away from you. you felt sick.

he turned on the stool, ducking his head and cradling his face in his hands

“i want…”

what the fuck was he saying? he couldn’t say this to you. he couldn’t. but he was.

“i… you’re a very gorgeous girl. you’re sweet. you’re smart. you’re funny. i like you very much.”

he said it like he was confessing to murder. elbow resting on his knee, his hand covered his eyes with splayed fingers. god, he was going to hell for this. even saying the words felt like the deepest sin imaginable, and he was sanitising his truth extensively. what he thought about at night, when you went home and his house became cold again, when he got into the shower and mechanically relieved himself into the drain, that was truly deplorable. when he touched himself, it was you he thought of. invariably. everything a man could possibly do to a girl, everything a girl could possibly do to a man, he had laid up in his bed and touched himself to with you in mind. ropes and ropes and ropes of cum in your honour, so gently splattered on shower walls and bedsheets he needed to wash anyway. sometimes he came on his torso, just to feel young and frivolous, like you were. and when he did his brain would turn back on, and he would feel so guilty that he would lay there to soak up his guilt, a punishment for himself from himself. so yes. he wanted you. he wanted you very, very badly. with every fibre of his being, he craved you. and with every fibre of his soul, he hated himself for it. but apparently he was still talking. what his morality urged him his mouth couldn’t hear, or wouldn’t obey.

“so don’t think you’re delusional. you had every reason to think i might reciprocate.”

you watched him, glossy eyes wide as ever. he peeked from beneath his fingers, immediately covering his eyes again when he saw you watch him. he shouldn’t have said that. he shouldn’t have. that was bad, it’s only giving you hope, and there is no hope. he can’t, he can’t. he want to so badly but he can’t. god, no he can’t. it would be so easy but easy isn’t right and how could he ever look his daughter in the eyes again if he did? how could he look at tashi?

“mr donaldson?”

“mm,” he replied miserably.

“kiss me.”

slowly, exhausted, he lifted up his head. mistake. now he was thinking about it as he looked at your face, puffy and damp and shining like a star.

why did he look so disgusted? what was so wrong with you? you couldn’t stop yourself from barreling ahead, feeling his premature rejection like a rock in your stomach.

“just once. then i’ll leave and i’ll never bother you and you won’t see me anymore and i’ll go to church and ill get a therapist, but just once.”

he looks so tired. so tired and so fucking good. his eyes smouldered with deep thought, the thought only a mature man can have. he was so mature. he was so much larger than you. he could hurt you if he wanted to. he could make you do anything but all he did was look at you so tired it made you squirm inside. as your sobs died in your throat, regret and embarrassment become indistinguishable from desire.

he blinked slowly, and opened his mouth. the white of his teeth glittered. his tongue pawed the inside of his cheek. he was thinking about it.

how could he be thinking about it? he was the worst person in the world. and yet. and yet. one kiss. he could control it with one kiss. one kiss wouldn’t hurt. one kiss. he had kissed your head before. your cheek. what was so different about this?

wordlessly, he moved off the stool. heart in your mouth you waited. a tremulous breath shuddered from your chest as he took one step. two steps. three steps. until he was stood above you. his face was unreadable. not cold. not warm. just looking, appraising from above his brown lower lashes, down his strong kissable nose.

“one kiss?”

his hand rose slowly, palm facing upwards. his finger tips grazed your jaw, your chin, tilting your head up. fireworks burst in your stomach, and you resisted the urge to moan.

“one. that’s all.”

one. that would be all. one kiss and he would put this silly fascination away for good. a kiss is deniable. a kiss is nothing.

he stoops down, can feel the nerves vibrating from your skin. his head tilts slightly, and your eyes lock as he descends to your level. his hand moves into your hair, a combing hold. and you kiss. no tongue. your lips connect, mush and expand over the others. his nose touched your cheek. your arms remained stiff by your side as they gripped the stool. you felt the pinkness of his lips, felt the edge of his cupids bow. and then he pulled away.

there. one kiss. he had done what he had to to get you to drop it. had fulfilled your criteria, and now you could move on. now he could move on.

but if that was true, why was he leaning in again? why did almost tasting your saliva, a substance he had thought about in great detail, make him hungrier for it? why was almost having it worse than never coming close? why did he pull gently on your hair, making your head tip back, opening you mouth so he could kiss the part of you he craved; the inside part? why was he hard if it was over?

his tongue flicked gently inside, asking permission. your mouths closed together, making the kiss noise you hate hearing but love making. they open quickly and in sequence. your hands rise up to gently hover over his chest, barely grazing his shirt. you didn’t want to touch him too hard in case he dissipated into a cloud of smoke, an illusion.

but he was very real, and under your timid girlish touch he was undone. a soft exhalation like a groan into your mouth, and his tongue protruded. it touched yours and you tasted the salt on it, shivering. his other hand fell back to your shoulder, gripping so hard it was like had no idea what he was doing. feeling your mouth against his was all that there was. there wasn’t right, there wasn’t wrong, there was only sensation.

all the want he had saved for solitary and depressing masturbation now burst through his veins, into his actions and he kissed you with all the passion in him. with everything he’s never said, with all the times he held back with you, with tashi. he kissed you like if he didn’t he would die, breathing and groaning and grunting involuntarily. he mashed his face to yours, crushing your lips, taking your bottom lip between his teeth before recapturing your mouth in a sloppy open mouthed kiss. it felt like steam evaporated from where your met, so hot and wet.

you didn’t know what was your and what was art, where you finished and art began. you meshed like the broken pieces of a vase slotted against each other. his tongue became so wild it clipped the side of your mouth in its frantic exploration, and you sighed.

ultimately it was you who had to pull away. you pulled your hands into your own chest, gasping for breath. he didn’t move an inch. he gripped your shoulder still, cradled your face the same. he opened his eyes, chest rising and falling graciously.

he surveyed you, still too high from your touch to feel guilt, with lazy eyes. he was so fucked. your eyes sparkled like glitter. your lips shined pearly with his spit. his.

“art?”

“yes?”

“it’s not just one kiss is it?”

despite himself, despite everything, he smiled.

“no. i don’t think it is.”

[cocteaucherry]

nanami x f!reader

(little thing I wrote about Nanami’s wife being insecure after the birth of their daughter)

cws- f!reader, self doubt, body insecurity, bodily fluids, p in v (unprotected), oral f!receiving, lacatation kink, nipple play, 18+, light postpartum depression, body worship, creampie

You hated the way you looked.

You stared in the mirror analyzing and observing your post birth body, the way your stomach pudge began to droop, the abundance of stretch marks coating your sides, your breasts full and aching adding to your sheer discomfort.

You adored your daughter, loved her with every fiber of your being but when the lights turned off you were left alone with your thoughts and the body you were convinced was destroyed.

This didn’t go unnoticed by your darling husband of course, he’d watch you heavily over analyze yourself as you pulled on your pajamas for the night. The way you’d wince when your rough feeling shirt clipped the underside of your sensitive breasts.

Nanami wasn't dumb, the way your face filled with worry when he proposed you have a date night just the two of you but quickly made the excuse of not going through the trouble.

“Hey sweetheart, just put her down for the night.. well for a few hours.” He smirked, rubbing his tired eyes.

You were laid on the bed in an oversized purple nightgown, you could wear a trash bag and he’d still find you to be the most ravishing woman he’s ever seen.

“That’s great, let’s get some sleep while we still can.” You said with a small yawn as Nanami crawled on the bed next to you, his strong arms wrapped around your waist causing you to wince quietly.

“Did I do something?” Nanami asked gazing up at you through his eyelashes as he took your hand in his.

“Do..” you sighed, beginning to feel the onslaught of tears form, “D-Do you still find me attractive..?” The words came out as more of a quiet plea than a question.

Nanami stared at you with an astonished look, eyes blown wide as he gripped your hand a little tighter, “Sweetheart..”

Hearing him say your name softly made you begin to sob, “Y/N, why do you not know how beautiful you are?” He pressed kisses to your knuckles keeping eye contact with you.

“I-I don’t feel it anymore..” sniffles came from you as you tried to wipe your tears, “I’m bigger now.. I have more stretch marks, I feel and look tired all the time.. and my stupid boobs hurt,” a hurt chuckle came from you as you tilted your head back.

“Sweetie.. are you aware you just birthed our beautiful daughter a month ago?” Nanami smiled softly, sitting up to caress the side of your face, “Your body is still as beautiful and amazing as it was before.” His calloused thumb wiping the stray tears away.

“K-Kento-“

He shushed you quickly before placing a soft kiss on your chapped lips, “Let me show you how beautiful you are..”

All of a sudden Nanami’s hands lifted your soft nightgown above your aching tits, his mouth then began to leave messy wet kisses on your neck.

You let out soft mewls as his rough hands palmed and squeezed at your tender breasts, beads of soft white milk dribbling out.

Nanami smirked against your neck as he dragged his lips to your cleavage, “I never want you to forget why I fell in love with you,” he hummed wrapping his lips around one of the hardened buds, his tongue graced over the bud as the smooth milk dribbled out.

“K-Ken, fuckkk,” you moaned as your hands found home in his blonde hair, gripping at the roots. His hands worked at your breasts as his lips moved on to the other bud.

He pulled off your breasts with an audible pop! As his head moved to your inner thighs, “I’ll never stop loving you, and if I do shoot me dead angel.” Nanami grinned as he saw you smile lightly, he nipped at the inner corners of your thighs slowly moving towards your panty clad cunt.

Soft kisses were placed where your clit was covered, “Think I can make you squirt through your panties?” Nanami groaned as he inhaled your scent leaving kitten licks on the damp fabric.

“Ken, please don’t tease!” You squeaked as his fingers worked on your clothed clit, Nanami’s teeth nipped at your thighs as his hips grinded into the mattress below.

“Wan’ kiss you to know kiss how beautiful kiss you are,” Nanami looked gorgeous between your legs, hair tousled, pupils blown as his fingers worked delicately.

Your back arched as you felt his tongue ghost over your clit, a whine fell from your lips as Nanami wrapped his lips over your clit. “Let go for me angel..” he hummed as the coil snapped in your belly and your panties soaked. “Fuckk, such a good girl f’ me.”

He placed one last kiss on your thigh before he sat up and began to gently palm himself through his boxers, the whole image was erotic as precum stained his boxers.

“See what you do to me angel?” He gripped his hardened cock through the fabric, “Please give me me a chance to fuck you dumb tonight.”

“K-Ken fuck!” Moans fell from your mouth as your husband continued to pound into your weeping pussy,

“Sucking me in so good, shit,” Nanami grunted out as he lifted your leg onto his shoulder planting a small kiss on your ankle, “Never thrust forget how fucking beautiful thrust you are.” He groaned out feeling your gummy walls begin to contract around him.

“‘M gonna cum Ken!” Your toes curled as you felt him speed up his thrusts, “D-do it you got it baby,” his hand came to rub quick tight circles on your clit as your walls clamped around his cock causing him to still.

“Ohhh fuck! That’s my good girl,” his voice sounded raspy as he buried himself deeper into you spilling his seed.

Pants came from both of you as he leaned over to place multiple kisses on your forehead, there was a calm silence that followed after before it was broken by Nanami.

“I never want you to forget how much of a goddamn goddess you are,”

[awniie]

ֺׅ─꒲ overstim drabble… .ﾟ۪ ☆

ʚ content: smut , barely proof read , draft ・⸝⸝﹒₊˚﹕

he needed you, squeezing your plush thighs against the sides of his face. Your small hands tugging at his hair, begging him to stop or at least slow down. “baby, baby’ pleaseee.” moaning out his name over and over as if it was some sort of prayer that could save you from the torment on your cunt. “I’m a- s-so sorry, please j’s-“ your voice breaking off into a half cry-half moan as he latches his mouth around your sensitive bundle of nerves. By now, both of you forgot what you’re apologizing for, but it was mutually understood that he was eating you so, so good. He kept one hand on the little pooch on your stomach, keeping you from squirming too much. He slowly relinquished his hold on your clit with a lewd ‘pop’

“T’s okay baby, just a little more okay?” He told you, with no intention of keeping that sentiment 100% true. His tongue running long, languid lines up your cunt. He took a moment to pause, giving no warning before he plunged his tongue into your entrance. You clenched around him, causing him letting out moans that sent vibrations from your pussy up your spine. Your whines go up in octave , and your feel a familiar pressure rising in your abdomen. Faint white lines from previous, dried up tears from scar your cheeks. He glanced up from his position at your crotch, sharp eyes taking in all your little faces and movements. The way your nipples peaked up from your breasts, the soft pudge of your stomach, the fucked our expression you wore, it went straight it his cock with a groan.

Meanwhile you were holding onto your life. You reached your hands out, signaling that you want him to hold yours. He kindly intertwined his big, veiny one with your softer, smaller trembling hand. His words and actions so soft compared to the way he was giving no mercy to your cunt. The stimulation was just too much for you, and you couldn’t help but squirm and wiggle while trying to to cry too loud

“ I-I’m c-cum-ming ! You warned him, feeling that pressure come to a stop before finally releasing. Your backed arch and you let out a half-scream half-sob, seeing only flashes of white as your eye rolled to back of your head. Waves and waves of pleasure kept crashing over you, rendering you senseless. He kept his mouth right there at your cunt, lapping up alll your juices as if he was parched and your cum was the most purest of water.

He pulled his face back, just to see your pink pussy flutter and pulse from him. You were so perfect, even your cunt matched the rest of you. At least that’s what he thought as he watched more of your slick leak from your weeping hole. “Look, even your pussy is crying for me.” he told, suppressing a small laugh, pressing a kiss to your clit and then one to your tear-stained lips. Your body simply twitched in response, even the slightest brush in a spot you were a little sensitive in would throw you into a state of unconsciousness.

“Can you do that one more time for me baby?” ♡ ۫

SATURO, SUGURU, CHOSO , anyone of your favs !! ⊢ ✶ ˖ ࣪

[lokis-army-77]

Wear My Name

mondern!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 1.0k

You've bought a new pair of panties. Hopefully, Eddie likes the little surprise when he sees them.

Warning: 18 +. breeding kink, p in v, unprotected sex, lil bit of a hand job.

Thank you to my beta readers <3

Masterlist

"What is that?" 

You turn to look over your shoulder at your boyfriend. With an eyebrow raised you ask, "What's what?"

"That." Eddie points at your lower back. "What's that shining right there?"

You smirk. He had noticed the little surprise you'd bought for him. So, you stood from your spot at the edge of his bed and hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your thong. Pulling it up a little you say, "Oh this?" 

You knew by the short intake of air that Eddie had finally seen the full thing. The red lace of the thong had his name spelled out in what you thought were tacky charms decked in rhinestones. When you’d seen the Etsy listing for them you couldn't help but wonder what Eddie’s reaction would be.

"Do you like them?" You ask. You have to turn your body slightly to see his response as words seem to have left him. 

His hands were reaching out for your hips and before you knew it, Eddie was pulling down the grey sweatpants you had borrowed from him. 

You gasp, slapping at his hands. "Eddie!"

"Can't help it, need to see all of them." He sounded memorized. "Do a spin for me, baby."

He lets go of you long enough for you to toe off your pants and do a tiny spin. He gives your ass a small smack as it passes. 

"Fuck- baby you look breathtaking."

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

You let him pull you atop his lap. His hands are warm as they smooth over the fronts of your thighs. His lips kiss up your clothed spine and you shiver in excitement. He hums as he breathes you in. 

“Wanna see you bouncing on my cock with this on, Sweetheart.”

You smile. “Then lay back for me Eds and let me put on a show for you.” 

He does as you request, laying back against the pillows with his arms resting behind his head. He watches your every move, eyes following as your fingers tug at his blue and black checkered boxers. 

He's semi-hard, cock falling to his stomach, growing stiffer by the second. You take it into your hand and rub your Thumb over the sensitive tip.

“Mmh, that's right baby. Love when you touch me.” Eddie moans, tilting his head back to rest on the headboard.

You reach over to the nightstand and grab your bottle of lube and squinting some into your hand. It's cold. Eddie jumps a bit When you bring your lubed hand to his throbbing cock. 

Slowly you begin to pump your hand. He hardens under your grasp and you can feel it throbbing as his heart rate picks up.

Eddie bites his lip as he moans. His legs flex and his hips buck up. He lets out a groan when you let go of him only to quiet down when you turn, swinging a leg over his so that you're straddling him. 

His hands immediately grab your hips, thumb rubbing across his bedazzled name. 

The room is filled with heavy breathing as you situate the thin string of the thong to the side. You need him inside of you and so you take his cock and guide him into your sopping-wet cunt. 

There's a pounding in your core urging you to take him all the way. You choke out a cry as you do. The sudden feeling of the full stretch he gives you along with the fullness has you throwing your head back. “Fuck.”

Eddie's fingers grip tightly into your skin, flesh pudges between the digits. He's holding you so hard there will probably be bruises later, you hope so. When you nod to him, showing that you're ready, Eddie starts to guide your hips. Helping to move you up and down, grinding into his cock. 

Your mouth slackens into an O shape as the head of his cock presses deep within you. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you repeat as you bounce. Your pleasure is all that you can think about at that moment. At a particularly harsh snap of Eddie’s hips, you hurl forward, catching yourself on the mattress with your hands. The angle has him hitting just right and a guttural moan spews past your lips. “Eddie!”

“That’s right Sweet girl,” he praises. “Feel so good around me, just love when this sweet pussy squeezes me. S’my sweet pussy isn't it baby? All fuckin’ mine.” He grunts, hips pistoning upwards faster. 

“All yours Eddie! Fuck- my pussy’s all yours!” You cry.

“Yeah? That why you had to mark it with my name? Wear those slutty panties so everyone would know whose fuckin’ pussy this is?” He stopped his thrusts and before you knew it you were lying face first on the mattress and Eddie was shoving his thick cock back into you, pounding into you even harder. 

Short grunts and gasps for breath could be heard as he fucked you mercilessly into the bed. His fingers held your hips steady, fingers tangled in the lace of your thong. 

“Gonna cum inside. Get you nice and round with my baby. Then there won't be any question of who you belong to.” 

His words have you shuddering. Your body begins to tense as you feel yourself starting to come undone. “Yes!” you scream in answer, wanting nothing more than for you to belong to him and him to you. “Yes, yes! Fuck a baby into me, Eddie!” 

One hand lets go of your hips and grabs the hair at the base of your scalp. You mewl as he pulls taut, guiding your body up and flush with his own. His lips kiss messily over your neck and shoulder. You turn your head and he connects his lips with yours. It's sloppy, a mix of spit and gnashing teeth. 

“Oh fuck! Ed- Eddie I’m… fuck I’m gonna cum.” 

“Mmm. Cum on my fuckin’ cock baby, show me how only I can make you feel.” His thrusts pick up to a speed you didn't think was imaginable. 

Tears are flowing down your face as his grip on your hips tightens. You can’t take it anymore and with a cry of pleasure, you cum, your body trembling as he follows close behind. 

He lets you fall back to the bed, falling to the side to catch a well-needed breath. 

“Should wear my name more often.” Eddie gives a breathy laugh. 

You eye him, watching as the hand he has laid over his stomach rises with his breathing. “I make a note of that.”

[moonstruckme]

hi bae, can i pls request reader who’s recovering from eating problems and is gaining a bit of weight and gets insecure with poly marauders but they just find her more attractive cause of it

fighting demons rn

🫶🏻🫶🏻

Hi sweetheart, apologies for the wait! I was hunting your demons with a crossbow. Thanks for requesting <3

cw: implied past disordered eating, body image issues

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

Your favorite high waisted jeans used to sit just so on your hips, practically hanging off your hip bones. Now, they hug your waist, which you try to reason is where they were always meant to be, but it feels so wrong on your body. Everything about your body feels wrong. You jam your fingers in the waistband, and there’s little give. You’re beginning to wonder if you should even bother with these, when you know you’ll eat and they’ll start to bite into your midsection like a punishment. But they’re your favorite jeans.

James comes through on his way to the bathroom with a careless “Hi, lovie,” and you drop your hands from where they’ve been pinching critically at your waist. 

“Hi,” you echo halfheartedly. 

James pauses, pivoting slightly to give you a curious look. You have an out here, you know. You could fake a smile or feign confusion, and he’d let it go. Perhaps he’d be keeping a closer eye on you today, but James will never push the issue if you don’t feel like talking. 

Maybe it’s the option that makes you think it might be nice to externalize. 

“I’ve gained weight,” you say plainly. There. 

James’ eyebrows shoot up, more surprised at the abruptness of your complaint than the complaint itself. “Well, I should hope so. You’ve been doing really well lately.” 

“It’s just,” you sigh, “my jeans don’t fit.” 

He gives you a quick look-over, then an odd sort of smile. “They look great to me. Do they not feel right?” 

You feel your mouth quirk to the side. A dissatisfied pinch. “They used to feel different.” 

“That’s alright, sweetheart,” he says, going into the bathroom. You hear the satisfying schwick of his deodorant cap sliding off. “Do they still sell those same ones?”

You give a tentative nod as he emerges from the bathroom again, and he shrugs at you, a funny scrunch at the bridge of his nose. 

“Then get them in a bigger size.” 

Not what you want to hear. Not necessarily his fault, either. James doesn’t get it. How could he? The only time James’ body doesn’t look like it was drawn into a superhero comic is the few weeks of off-season where he doesn’t train as hard and gets a bit of pudge around his middle. And even then, it’s a very lovable pudge. James Potter wouldn’t know insecurity if it slept in his bed every night. (Which it does. You do.) 

“That’s not the point,” you say, and despite your best intentions your voice comes out with a petulant edge. “I just—I liked how these ones looked on me before. Don’t you think I look…different?” 

The scrunch migrates from the bridge of his nose to just above it, an unhappy notch between his brows. “Well, yeah. But I mean, I like it.” 

You give him a deadpan look. 

“I’m being honest.” James holds up his hands. “Really, sweetheart, I didn’t want to—I know talking about your body can be an issue for you, so I didn’t want to bring it up, but you’ve been looking fantastic lately.” 

You’re quiet, stuck. You aren’t sure what you’d wanted out of this anymore (validation, maybe?) but you’re not going to get it this way. You only feel bad for putting James in this position. He’s your boyfriend and a good one, he only ever had one way out of this. 

“Sorry,” you say, wrapping your arms around your torso, “I didn’t mean to fish for compliments.” 

“Hey.” He steps into your space, hooking his fingers through your belt loops to turn you towards him. “You’re not asking for anything I don’t want to give. You look amazing, I mean it.” Your eyes fall to his chest and he stoops to follow them, dark brows rising incredulously. “What, you don’t believe me?” 

You sigh. “I’m sorry I brought it up, okay? Can we not—”

“Nope.” James lets go of one of your belt loops but keeps a firm hold on the other. “Sorry, no longer an option.” He begins tugging you out of the room. Your hips follow disloyally, and though you wrap your hands around his wrist, he holds fast. 

“James, come on.” You give a little resistance, but he drags you doggedly onward. You could tear away if you commit to it, but these really are your favorite jeans and James is just as likely to take your belt loop with him. 

In the living room, Sirius is mending a pair of James’ trousers while Remus does the crossword, which involves him reading the clues aloud and Sirius firing off unrelated and too-long words until Remus gets it himself. Remus hears your protest first, brows rising as James brings you into the room. 

“What’s going on?” he asks, somewhat warily. 

“She doesn’t believe me when I tell her she’s lovely,” James says, like Can you believe it? Remus blinks and Sirius’ eyes flit up from his work, one brow quirking.

“That’s not what I said,” you defend. 

He releases you, and you step away, crossing your arms over your midsection. “Go on, then.” James sounds truly encouraging, though dubious. “Tell us how lovely you are, angel.” 

You roll your eyes. It’s difficult not to feel frivolous when they put you on the spot like this. “I was only saying that I don’t like the fit of my jeans now.” 

If you hadn’t had Sirius’ full attention already, you do now. He sets down James’ trousers, beckoning you forward, “C’mere, let’s see.” 

You go to stand between his legs, dread coiled like a snake around your ribcage that only squeezes tighter at the unflinching intensity of Sirius’ gaze while he analyzes your face. 

You look down to escape it, sticking your thumb into the waistband of your jeans. “Look, they’ve gotten small—”

“I can see for myself,” he says softly, moving your hand out of the way and replacing your thumb with his own slender fingers. They’re cool against your abdomen. He slides them around to the side of your waist, tugging experimentally at the denim. “Gorgeous, these fit great. This is exactly where you’d usually want them to be. What’s the issue?” 

“It’s just—they don’t—” You feel more and more ridiculous by the second, and you can’t figure out if you’re frustrated with yourself or with them for that. “They used to sit lower, and now I—I just feel like I look weird.”  

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” James insists, seating himself on the coffee table and setting his elbows on his knees. Sirius nudges your ankle with his foot, silent encouragement to sit between him and Remus. You comply. “You don’t look weird, sweetheart, you’re—listen, you’ve always been beautiful, but lately, it’s like—you’re just, you’re stunning.” 

You shrink from the compliment, face humiliatingly warm. “Thanks, Jamie, but you have to say that.” 

“No, he’s right,” Remus chimes in. He sounds so matter-of-fact, as if he’s simply recounting how traffic was on the way home from work today. “You don’t look the same as you did before, true, but it’s not a bad change. You’re just not used to seeing yourself healthy, is all.” 

“Exactly.” James throws up his palms, relieved. 

You consider this. It was warped perspective that had gotten you into this mess. Maybe you’re still not seeing things clearly quite yet. 

Sirius wraps a hand around the inside of your thigh, tugging it over one of his. “Babe, if these jeans are evidence of anything, it’s that you’re finally growing into the size you were always supposed to be. If you eventually have to get a larger pair, then fine. It still won’t mean anything about you. You’re exactly right, understand?” 

You nod, feeling thoroughly chastened, and Sirius grins. His fingertips dig into your thigh as he leans over to kiss your cheek. 

“Honestly, I don’t know how you can’t see it,” James says, looking pleased to have some validation from the other boys. “You’re radiant, lovie, your skin is glowing, you look happier—really, you’ve never been more lovely.” 

“It helps that we know you’re doing better, too,” Remus says, a bit quieter. “Frailty doesn’t suit you, dove. It’s…I love you no matter what, but it does make it easier when you’re kind to yourself. Feels more like we’re on the same team.” 

“Thanks,” you say softly, then once more for good measure. “Thanks, guys.” 

“Told you already,” James says, “you’re not asking for anything we don’t want to give.” 

“You liked it when these jeans fit a bit saggier, showed more skin, yeah?” Sirius asks. You nod with a shrug. It doesn’t feel quite so important now. “We can do that. We’ll get you the same ones, if you want, or another pair that might sit a bit more on your hips.” He gives your thigh a squeeze through your jeans. “Gotta show off this bod, right, babydoll?”

[sweetiecutie]

you and childhood best friend Simon losing your virginities together on your birthday🥺

Pairing: childhood friend! Simon Riley x fem! Reader

Warnings: mdni, both reader and Simon are implied to be 19 or so, fluffy smut, lose of virginity on both sides, fingering, unprotected sex and pulling out as contraception (DON’T DO THAT)

A/n: god anon, that’s absolutely fucking ADORABLE!!! I enjoyed writing this sm! It turned out a bit longer than I originally planned but it is what it is.

You and your best friend Simon were sprawled out on your soft bed, soft pink sheet were rustling underneath your bodies whenever you moved. Some stupid show was playing on your laptop but neither of you paid much attention, chatting and laughing at each other’s stupid jokes, tummies full of delicious cake and aromatic tea cold and long forgotten on your bedside.

- What else does my angel want for her birthday? You know I’ll do anything you want, - Simon said quietly, his voice slightly raspy from chain smoking. Corners of his thin lips rose up in small smile, the one he reserved for you only; his hand came up to tuck a stand of loose hair behind your ear, gently pinching the apple of your cheek as he did so.

You just shrugged your shoulders meekly, smiling and blushing uncontrollably at this cheeky gesture:

- Nothing, just wanna be with you, - you said, looking up at Simon through long lashes, feeling your tummy flutter at the sight of his gummy smile upon hearing your words, those adorable dimples that you wanted to kiss so much showing on his stubble-pecked cheeks. You felt a sudden fit of courage simmering in your chest, so you added tentatively: - And maybe a small kiss?

You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as you watched Simon freeze, his body tensing for a few long moments after registering your words. Then his smile widened slowly as he sat upright from his semi-lying position, scooting over to be closer to you.

- I’ll give you as many as you wish princess, - he promised quietly, tip of his tongue running over his lips impatiently before pressing them against your own, big calloused hand coming up to cradle the side of your face. You hummed into the kiss contentedly, releasing long a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

Your hands rested on Simon’s sides, crumpling soft cotton of his tee in between your trembling from nerves fingers, causing the hem to ride up, giving a glimpse on milky skin of his stomach.

Simon felt as if the whole world was spinning around and in the centre of it was you - gorgeous little you, all pretty and dolled up for your birthday, so pliant and soft in his rough hands. He couldn’t help himself from pushing his lips against yours a bit harder, small moan tearing through his chest upon the taste of your cherry scented lipgloss - god he’s been dreaming of this his whole fucking life.

Neither of you could tell how exactly everything happened - it was a mess of hot messy kisses full of tongue and shared saliva, hands raking up and down each other’s bodies, sloppily moulding and caressing, finally able to do so after years of yearning. You were laying on your back with Simon slotted cozily in between your thighs, his t-shirt off, button and zipper of his jeans undone, your greedy fingers cupping his hard-on through black cotton of his boxers, rubbing and stroking his throbbing cock. Blonde cussed under his breath, sucking another pretty mark on the side of your neck, his hands kneading soft pudge of your tits, pinching and tweaking sensitive nipples gently.

Simon didn’t hesitate to shift one of his hands lower, rubbing you through your pretty panties, cooing at the wetness seeping through them.

- Want you s’bad, Si, - you whined, bucking your hips against your best friend’s hand, feeling his cock twitch under your fingers at your words.

- Gotta work you open first, dearie, - he murmured and placed a small peck at the tip of your nose, doing quick work at shedding your clothes down, leaving you flushed and naked under him. Running two of his fingers over your slit he opened your folds, groaning at how fucking drenched you were for him. With his thumb rubbing and prodding at your clit a bit clumsily blonde carefully worked one finger inside of your fluttering hole, causing you to draw in a sharp breath. No matter how many times you stuffed yourself full of your fingers, everything felt tenfold better with Simon.

Soon he added a second, and then third fingers in, spreading you open on his thick knuckles, making you feel so full and needy for more. You synchronised the pace of your jerking on Simon’s cock with the his digits fucking in and out of you, eliciting a throaty groan from his.

- Can’t wait no more, I need to be inside of you, - Simon hissed, taking his fingers out of you, leaving you so cold and empty as he hastened to tear his pants and underwear off, crawling back in between your soft thighs. - Can I?

You nodded fervently, watching with wide eager eyes as your best friend pumped his cock a few times, spreading shiny bead of precum all over his brownish tip. Aligning himself with your awaiting entrance he met your eyes, making sure you wanted it still. Receiving a small yes that fell from your kiss swollen lips he pushed carefully, breaking into your virgin pussy. It stung still, even despite your pooling slickness and all the stretching. Simon hissed under his breath, head thrown backwards providing you with delicious view of his strong neck and chiselled adam’s apple, his face scrunched up as he fought the urge to bottom out inside your tight cunny, cumming shamefully quick.

Staying like that for a few long minutes to allow both of you to get used to completely new feeling Simon crouched down to pepper small butterfly kisses all over your cheeks and forehead, his affection melting your insides into a sparkly goo. Blonde took one of your hands and guided it down to where your sexes connected:

- Show me how you like to be touched.

And so you did, rubbing your clit in full circles, tight pleasure of it helping to ease all unpleasant feelings from first penetration. Simon cussed under his breath, feeling how you clamped down on his needy cock, pushing your hand away and taking over your clit, imitating the pace you’ve just shown him. With added stimulation you relaxed further into him, your walls declamping, allowing Simon to finally move.

His first thrusts were faltering and hesitant, not wanting to move too fast or rough to hurt your thus stretched walls any further. Slowly but surely picking up pace Simon soon was fucking you into your mattress, his cock brushing that one spot within you repeatedly, his thumb massaging tight figures eights on your swollen needy clit.

- That’s my birthday girl, so perfect for me. God you feel amazing, I could’ve cum right this instant, - Simon moaned, thrusting his hips against yours gently, fucking himself in and out of your needy cunny on slow sensual pace.

- Si, I think I’m gunna cum, - you whined out, feeling familiar heaviness settling in the pit of your tummy, your nerves aflame with newfound pleasure. Your hands gripped onto Simon’s buff biceps, seeking out some grounding; his hips faltered slightly, deep throaty moan rolling off his tongue - realisation alone that you were going to cum because of him was enough to push him right over the edge.

- Cum f’ me, pretty girl. Cum on my cock, let me make you feel good, - he encouraged, his thumb rubbing your clit more fervently, pushing you right into the pit of pleasure. Your body jolted as a wave of pure pleasure crashed over you like a tsunami, causing your eyes to roll back and toes curl. White dots were dancing before your eyes, white noise thrumming in your ears as you rode out your orgasm, your puffy pussy clenching and clamping down on Simon’s drooling cock, bringing him right to his limit.

- Ffffuuuuuck, - blonde gritted you, pulling his cock out and jerking it ferociously with his rough fist, a few pumps were enough for Simon to shoot his pearly cum onto your heaving tummy, staining your skin with milky ropes.

Crashing on the bed next to you Riley scooped you up in his tight embrace, holding you close to his heaving chest, thick fingers tangling themselves in between soft strands of your hair. Simon pressed soft kisses onto your hairline, making you giggle in post-coital bliss, snugging closer to your now lover.

- You can’t imagine how long I’ve been dreaming about holding you like that, - he murmured against your skin, inhaling lungfuls of your shampoo mixed with your favourite perfume. - God I’m not letting you get out of bed after that<3

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Give writers some feedback <3 Also, requests are open

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

Being His Sibling– Jamil ft. Namja Viper

This is based off the headcanon/au that Jamil may have been taught to kill in order to protect Kalim.

Content Stuff: Gn Yuu. Platonic. Older Sib Yuu. Angst with a happy ending (for now). Edgyness that comes with assassins, 6k words

You were the eldest child of the Viper family, renowned by many as the elite servants of the Al-Asim family. It was a title to be held with pride is what you have been told your entire life. This is where you were meant to be. You will be happy serving your master and he will take care of you so there's no need to look outside of your cage. 

A mop was thrusted into your chubby hands when you first started walking. Your fine motor skills were honed on cooking. Your boredom alleviated with chores.

This was the honor of a Viper. Serving one of the most powerful families in the world with their head bowed. Vipers were not just servants— they were butlers, housekeepers, advisers. It was the highest rank a servant can have. Commanding other maids, being directly in charge of orders and standing right alongside the Asims themselves.

Viper was a powerful name in its own right. Yet it was as strong as it was confining. The name was akin to wearing weights in a deep pool, and though you had more privilege than the other maids, a taller birdcage was still a birdcage.

You learned to cook, learned to clean, learn how to act, learned how to fight. That was your way of life.

You cooked. You cleaned. You acted. You trained. You cooked. You cleaned. You acted. You trained. You cooked. You cleaned. You acted. You trained. And you never yearned for anything outside of the bars in front of you.

You knew your place.

***

One day, a new addition to the family was announced: Jamil Viper. Your little brother.

Deep in your heart you knew he would be an amazing servant in the future.

As you looked into the newborn's eyes you also knew he would be your best friend. You remembered the feeling of him in your little arms. The pudge of his face, the softness of the skin, the comfortable weight. 

You faintly remember asking why Jamil was so pale before you felt a little hand grip around your finger. Soft and firm. You looked down at the newborn. You swore there was a smile on his face. 

All of your family duties were put on hold to care for the newborn and you were at his side for every moment of it. Mother would often remark on how she would find you asleep by his cradle, having passed out from standing and staring at him all the time.

Kalim was born not long after. You remember being told that you were to help look over him as well. From the moment he took his first breath your fates were decided. You and Jamil will bow to the young heir and obey him, for he is your master. 

The eldest bore many responsibilities. You cooked. You cleaned. You served. You watched over Kalim and Jamil. You cooked. You cleaned. You learned. You watched as they'd play tag. You cooked. You cleaned. You studied all the skills you could so you could be useful. You'd listen to their laughter.

It made sense mom and dad weren't as hard on Jamil since you do your tasks flawlessly. They didn't need as many hands with your capabilities. So you cooked. You cleaned. You—

“Hey! Hey Yuu!” You perked up from your thoughts as you turned to the boy that clung to your clothes and bounced on his feet. “Do you know what this is?” Jamil held up a box of some sort and you took a step back to look at it.

As your eyes scanned the box you could see Kalim and Jamil look up at you expectantly. “Shatranj– it's just like chess, there's just a few optional rules to it.” You look at all of the pieces inside. The dusty pawns and chipped elephants look to you with the hope of salvation. It's clear they haven't been used in a while. 

“Can you teach us? Please please please please!” Kalim tugged at your sleeve and you chuckle. It was your break time anyways. You suppose your personal studies can wait this time, besides it's not like you to ever reject an order from your master.

You guide Jamil's hand over the board, showing him the pawn’s available movements. You sat between the boys and refereed, letting them experiment with the pieces and pointing out a few strategies. The game came to a close and the children clearly wanted something else to do.

“... I hear one of the perfume parlors in the marketplace is having a live performance today.” Both of them light up and Kalim is pulling on your sleeve again jumping off the wall in excitement. “Can you take us? Please please please Yuu?”

“Yeah yeah! Come on Yuu!” Jamil was pulling on your shirt too, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes and a bright, pleading smile. He always adored music of all kinds, it would be a crime to rob him of it.

“Okay, okay! Fine. But you both stick beside me, got it?”

“Deal!”

As you walked out the playroom Jamil slid something into your hand. You hummed as he closed your hand around it and you lifted it to your face. Opening your hand you saw the small elephant piece, cracked and chipped. “It's broken so maybe you could fix it?” You examined it, then put it into your pocket.

“Maybe.”

You had fond memories of teaching them what you knew. Safe back alleys as shortcuts. The best vendors along the markets. You had Jamil at your side as you haggle the price of an old stereo for his room. How to disguise yourselves. The two would giggle as you wrapped them up and used a spell to make them look like two different kids entirely. You played tag, hide and seek, and so much more. 

You balanced helping Kalim and Jamil among your work as the duo became good friends. And they helped to balance your own schedule, giving you a break from your usual clockwork life. It was fun while it lasted but you all had to grow up eventually.

Jamil got older alongside you and he fell into the same routine as you did. He cooked. He cleaned. He served. But unlike you, his ambitions grew. 

He wanted to be recognized. To be something great. You showed him worlds beyond the life of servants. You showed him the salesmen, the merchants, the travelers that would tell their tales of a life beyond the sands.

And like you, he worked hard. He put his all into everything. His talent shined through over and over again. Eventually, however, it became too bright.

That time he beat Kalim in a race as a kid was when his reality became clear to him. A minor victory had him scolded and his eyes were opened. He was to be an accessory to his master. To hide his true self. That should be his true ambition. 

There was a pang of empathy as Jamil's face fell. Another part of you however, didn't fully understand his sadness. This was expected of you both. Why was he so surprised? This was an honor. You were told it's an honor. Why didn't he see it that way?

He was trained like you. Poison testing. Bodyguarding. You were expected to put your life on the line. He hated all of these tasks and he hated how you didn't seem to care. The first seed of his anger was sewn.

***

A new baby girl was born to the Viper family. Najma Viper. You held the newborn in your arms and dipped her low so Jamil could see. Like with Jamil, you all had time off to celebrate your new addition. Just like before you'd watch over the girl from the cradle as she slept. This time however, Jamil was at your side. 

A comfortable silence danced between in the air occasionally interrupted by an occasional coo or sigh from the little one swaddled in her softest garments.

Jamil broke the silence. “She kinda looks like an alien.”

You snickered a bit at the comment. “Funny. That's what you looked like too, you just had a bigger head.” You snicker even more as Jamil glared at you with a pout.

“Haah? No I didn't!” Jamil huffs at your amusement. “Stop laughing at me!”

“If it makes you feel better, Kalim was a very fat baby. You'd be able to roll him down a hill easily.” At that Jamil pauses to imagine it, and lets out a small laugh of his own.

“He was always hungry too. He'd suck on everything looking for milk. I'd often have to pry him off my clothes and fingers.” You patted Jamil's head and a soft smile formed on his lips as he stared more at Najma.

A small frown then overtakes his features as he thinks. “What's wrong?” Your brother looks up at you with a troubled expression. “She's gonna be like us too…”

You paused for a moment, trying to discern his thoughts. “What do you mean?”

“She's gonna be a servant too.” Jamil sounded dejected, quiet. Why?

“Well, yeah— It's what we're supposed to be.” Your face contorts into confusion. What was the issue?

“But I don't wanna be a servant!” he huffed, resting his head against the crib. “I wanna be a dancer… or an alchemist! Or a really strong mage! I wanna see the world!” The boy then looked up to you, a spark of hope in his eyes. “Don't you?”

“I never thought about it.” Jamil's face falls further at the admission. It was true. Why would you think about it if you were told that this was all there was? “I've never even played with anyone before you and Kalim were born.” 

You turned to Jamil. You understood why Jamil was upset logically, but you also didn't why he didn't just accept it. You already did at a much younger age than him. Why can't he?

Jamil scowled before resigning with a sigh. “But Najma isn't gonna get to choose either… doesn't that bother you…?” Your brows are knit together as you think. Another silence follows. Jamil keeps his gaze on you.

“What would you like to be when you grow up? Like if you could choose anything?” 

Silence. “I don't know.”

Jamil groans. “Just pick something!”

“I just never saw the point of thinking about it,” You shrug and scratch at your eye. “I'm still a servant at the end of the day. Maybe I can become a butler when I'm older?”

Jamil just looks even more frustrated. “Never mind.” The boy starts to storm off with a pout before you speak again.

“I like cooking and baking. Maybe something with that?” You test the idea in your head. “Or maybe somewhere where I can be with you and Najma?” Your voice is a quiet murmur as the idea of a life outside of this mansion is a new thought to you.

“A baker?” Jamil tilts his head at the idea, surprised at the fact you actually answered. You shrug a bit, “I don't really know. You're the first person that ever asked me that.” 

Jamil frowned as leaned on you and you wrapped an arm around him in a side hug. “I'd think you'd be good at it. Your cakes are always the best.” You smile at the praise. Memories of the young boy with frosting all over his cheeks and hands as he shoved as much cake into his mouth he could play in your mind.

You watched over Najma again. Will she feel the same?

Life went on. You cooked. You cleaned. You poison tested. You studied. You entertained Kalim. You checked the treasury. You were praised for being such a good kid. You looked after Najma despite how busy you were.

You also made sure to support Jamil in all the ways you could, taking hours out of your day to do so. He wanted to be a scholar? You used your break to teach him what you knew. He wanted to be a great mage? You would show him some spells to practice. He wanted to be a dancer? Let's go watch a few performances

Najma was no exception either. You got her books. Taught her the ways of an artisan should she want to be one. You played with her. You put on magic shows. 

You made sure to spoil them both rotten. On grocery runs you snagged records from magic shops and jewelry to surprise them on the way back. Extra pastries from the bakery were handed off for Najma to gum on and Jamil to savor. You listened to them and their frustrations. You'd hug them and wipe away tears. You'd take them to the best place to watch the stars.

As they stared in wonder at the night sky you would remind them that they would shine just as bright. They would be more than just servants. They would talk about their dreams and you swore you would make them come true.

You would give up your dreams if it means they could pursue theirs.

***

“I found another chess set.” Jamil shook the box at you and you looked over at it. “It's not as old. Want to play?”

“You don't want to study?” You tilt your head at him, looking at the notes in your book of the spell you wanted to teach him.

“Not today… I want to play with you.” You were weak to his eyes and couldn't help but concede.

You both now sat at the table, setting up the pieces one by one. As you did so, you removed one of the knights, replacing it with the old elephant piece you pocketed. It was still cracked, you never had the time to fix it.

“Oh? You still have that?”

You nod. “Yeah, I like the elephants more.”

Jamil smiled. “I think it suits you.” He admired your side of the board and the broken elephant before leaning back and crossing his arms confidently. He then gestures to you. “White goes first.”

***

Today, Jamil went out to play with Kalim again. You watched the two from the higher floors of the mansion where you swept. The duo sneaked off into the market, using all of the shortcuts you taught them. A smile graces your features and you look down, sweeping again. You glanced up again to watch them 

…

..

.

The broom in your hands clattered to the ground as you dashed through the hall. Your heart pounded in your chest. Adrenaline pumped into your veins. Your feet hit the ground harshly as you covered the distance in no time.

“Jamil?! Jamil are you out there?!” Running through the alley you jumped and ducked and slid under any obstacle in your path. You navigated the alleyways with precision, having memorized every path.

You then saw it. The shadowy stalker from before. They slunk into some shady building, a van of some kind backing into the side of it. There was no license plate and the windows were tinted a deep black. The camouflaging magic around the van gave you an idea.

You concentrated your magic hard, then vanished into thin air. The spell worked. Swallowing thickly, you took your steps carefully as you navigated the building. A familiar shriek reawakens the panic in your veins and you follow it.

“Let us go! Let us go please!” It was Jamil's voice, raspy and desperate between sobs. You slid to the door with a running start, crouching beside it. Looking in you saw Kalim was tied up and sobbing against the duct tape that covered more than half his face. He was wailing and kicking in the chair he was in as the man screamed at him to shut up.

Jamil was dangling off the floor. The man held him by the shirt and shook him slightly as he did everything he could to struggle against him. The Viper managed to lean down and bite the man, making the bastard yelp and throw him against the wall. Jamil let out a cry of pain and shook, looking up at his kidnappers.

“Tch… Intel says that this brat ain't important…” The man says to another lady across the room who merely watched with a cruel gaze.

“Then get rid of him.” The woman sneered with a dismissive wave of her hand. The man then yanked Jamil up by his hair, retrieving a knife from his pocket. The knife was then pressed against the boy's throat and left a shallow cut as it dragged across his neck. Jamil sobbed, magic on his fingers fizzling due to fear. The man was taunting him.

You remember the next moments in brief flashes. The magic from your fingertips was the most concentrated you had ever casted. The smell of blood. Yelling at Jamil and Kalim to run. Cloaking them in an invisibility spell. Their looks of horror. A fierce struggle. 

***

You awoke to the sounds of sirens as you bring the knife in your hands down on a ribcage that is no longer breathing. Your hands are warm, soaked in a deep maroon. The knife clattered on the floor next to you. Your breathing was ragged as reality settles in.

A heavy hand on your shoulder shakes you. None of the words the officer spoke registered in your head as you were pulled into the back of a car. Your eyes are glazed over and dilated.

You were now in a room that was empty aside for the chair you sat on and the table between you and the officer. Your voice was shaky as you looked up at the interrogator. “Are they ok?”

“Yes, they are. You aren't in trouble kid. Tell us what happened.”

You did as you were told. Obedience bred into your veins. No you didn't know the kidnappers. Yes you followed. No you don't remember fighting back.

“I'm sure it was very scary, kid.” You nod. There's tears in your eyes despite the numbness. “Do you feel bad about it?”

“No.”

***

The head of the house himself, Kalim's father, commended your bravery. He held your hand in both of his and thanked you for saving his son. You truly were a Viper at heart and just as deadly. Your family must be proud. 

“A feast will be held in your honor tonight. I will see you there.”

You just nodded.

…

..

.

Chatter and uncomfortable questions of all kinds assaulted you at the dinner table. You shyly nibbled on your baklava as Kalim bounced next to you. He thanked you for saving him and sang your praises out for everyone to hear. 

You hear the people around you making up their own stories on how it happened. Part of you cringes. Was this just a funny story to them?

You look at Jamil who slithered off. Anxiety plastered on his features. You followed.

“Jamil? What's wrong?”

“Nothing I just…” Your brother turned to you. “I'm still processing it all. I've never seen you that angry before.” He looked you in the eyes and warily crossed his arms. “It was scary. You…” 

‘Killed them’ went unsaid but the implication filled the hallway. You frown and take a step forward. Jamil steps back. “I want to be alone right now.” 

“Okay.”

You walk back to the party. The loudness simmered down. You pick at your food. You weren't hungry

…

..

.

“Yuu.” A voice snaps you out of it. You look to see him. The head of the house. He has only spoken to you a handful of times. Twice in one day is an honor anyone would die for.

“Come take a walk with me.” The man turned and stepped down the hallway. The servant in you obeys.

“You have shown great strength over the years.” The man rubs his beard as he speaks, deep in his thoughts. “I have never seen a youth with such physical prowess.” His words were punctuated with each click of his heels.

His words were true. Apprehending burglars and distinguishing assassins was part of your job as a Viper. Your self-defense training was one of your strongest suits. You have chased people without a sweat. Your magic has paralyzed animals that would manage to break into the house. 

And you have just now killed two people.

The authority figure in front of you stops at a window. You look out with him. “I want to offer you a job. Something different than a servant.” You looked up with widened eyes. You have always been a servant, it's what you always would be. He wants to change it? You can be something other than this?

“That brother of yours is a wonderful retainer for my boy. You have taught him well.” You beam at him for a moment, then frown, understanding the implication. Jamil would still be a servant to his master...

“But you?” The man starts, “you have protected us well in other ways. That talent can be put to good use.”

He now looked at you, expectant look in his eyes.. “I have a job for you.”

***

You are Yuu Viper. The eldest child of the Viper family. It was a title to hold with pride. That is what you have been told. 

You were now an elite servant of the Asim family. One that watched from the shadows. An Assassin, born to protect and serve. You were obedient to your master.

How could you say no to such an offer? It was the ultimate honor. To serve this family with your life. It is what you have been told.

You got what you wanted. To be a very high ranking butler. One that could command the other servants. Why did you ever consider anything different?

Though you did have another motive. A plan. If you eliminate every threat, attend to every need, clean every hall, cook every meal— this family will have no need for this many servants. No need for 10 poison testers. No need for 20 bodyguards for each person. No need for artisans to be chained.

You could free your siblings. Swear you will serve them better than they ever could. Swear they can be free for their loyalty. Even if they weren't, maybe you could pay for their freedom with blood. Prove that you would go to any length.

You could fold laundry. Bathe them. Dress them. Feed them. Entertain them. Kill for them. Protect them. Serve them. Die for them.

This is the reason you are fighting so hard. Why you are working yourself to the bone. This is the reason you will excel in your training. The reason why you will learn the curve of every blade. The reason your list of skills is becoming endless. The reason your magic has been focused on stealth and utility. Your unique magic was indicative of your bloody path.

You are the strongest this family has ever seen and you will be the strongest the world has seen. No one would dare mess with this family when they have you in their arsenal. And this family will no doubt listen to your requests. Value them.

Najma and Jamil don't know. They will never know. You swear it. You will give up your freedom so they have theirs. You meant it.

With each mission you complete you are one step closer to achieving your goal.

***

“My liege. A word?” You stood with perfect posture behind the head of the house. Your missions have been most successful. The favor you have garnered with your master was immense.

“What is it, Yuu?” Ruby eyes look into yours from where he sat at his desk. Papers in his hand detailed your most recent report.

“I would like to make a request.”

The man's eyes widened, intrigued smile on his face. “In all these years you have never requested time off.” The man then chuckled. “Very well then, how long?”

You shake your head. “I'm not requesting time off sir.”

“Oh?” He tilts his head with intrigue. “I should have figured as much. Well then, what is your request?”

“My brother Jamil Viper will be selected by Night Raven College. This I know.” You nod to him. “I want to request that he takes time off to pursue higher education, this way he can be a better asset to your family. I will take up all of his duties in his absence.”

The man tapped a pen on the desk as he listened. “Of course.”

***

You aren't the same anymore. Caring smile and warm eyes now jaded and cold. Soft hands now rough and calloused. Calming voice now curt and sharp. Your affections and conversations dwindled into non-existence.

Resentment grew in Jamil's heart. Sadness budded in Najmas. They both miss you. You are gone in recent years and only the memories remain. Even when you are home, there is nothing left but the ghost they once knew. 

They don't have an older sibling to bail them out of the trouble. No one to get advice from. No one to cover their shifts. No one to cry into. No one to spend time with when the other is busy. No more freshly baked sweets just for them. No more gifts. No one to cheer them on. No one to believe in them. 

They miss their older sibling. They miss your lessons. Your magic shows. Your encouragement. Your affections. Your laughter.  The way your arms held them. It was gone. They don't recognize you anymore.

Your eyes have gotten so dull there is no light in the world that could brighten them. You're stiffer. Quieter. Blunt and unfeeling. Tired. Stories you once conjured, a stark contrast from your minimal words.

You never took breaks. You'll scout. You'll scan. You'll shadow. You observe. The closest either of them has gotten to spending time with you was when you'd shadow them or help with a chore just to dismiss yourself right after.

You were always on the job and they began to wonder if the person you were before even existed.

You aren't Yuu. You haven't been Yuu for a long time. They are mourning a person that is still alive and they don't know what to do. They just want you back. They want Yuu back.

As far as Jamil is concerned, the bond between you two is broken.

***

Najma walks up to you one day as you look out the window. You scanned the perimeter, watching over the children playing in the garden. She put her hands on her hips as she approached.

“Hey you! Still moping around?” She tries to laugh at her own joke but it's shaky. “Watching over the place again? Don't you ever get bored?” You shake your head and she frowns.

“Did you pass by my room last night? I could have sworn I felt the angst resonating off of you. Heh heh…” Tears started welling up in her eyes as she fiddled with the old necklace you have given to her years ago. “It's funny cause I'll look up and you're not there anymore, you know?”

She sniffles and wipes away tears with her sleeve, mouth wobbling. “I remember when we were kids and you'd always be there to tell me a story, you know? And now… now…”

The girl froze as she felt firm arms wrap around her. Najma was stunned, looking up at your stony face as you held her. Yet it wasn't the same. It wasn't warm and soothing, rather frigid and detached. An automated response. But that's fine she will take it for now. 

“See? I knew you were in there somewhere…”

***

Jamil was at a loss. How does he cope? His sibling and support system, gone in an instant that fateful night.

He wasn't dumb. He has gotten wise over the years with the nature of your work. He was observant. You taught him that. It also wasn't exactly a tight lipped secret either. The Asims have had secret agents for years.

He can't fully blame you for the person you have become. He cannot imagine all you have seen. But resentment and hatred he had sowed years ago is finally budding.

If it wasn't for this job, for this damn family, if it wasn't for his master— He would have an older sibling. If Kalim didn't need to be coddled every waking moment of his life then there would have been no need for so many people to be at his beck and call.

It was their fault. His fault. That is how he justified it. They took away his freedom, his dreams, his life. And now you. Kalim took you away from him.

He hoped at some point the ice in your veins would melt. It didn't. It froze over and sees it in every facet of you. You were frozen solid. Why else would you be so stiff?

He now looked over a letter in his hand, pristine and elegant. One Najma delivered to him.

Is this…?

Jamil swallowed, heart pounding in his chest as he opened it. He has been selected for the black carriage to attend one of the most prestigious magical academies in Twisted Wonderland.

His hands shook. One of the biggest honors he could have and he won't be able to accept it. He has to stay here. How will he be able to convince everyone that he should go? 

If you were here right now, there's no doubt you would have said something like ‘see? now you can really shine!’ Or something to that effect. And he would laugh and smile and call you corny but cherish your words.

You're not though.

A knock on the door made him jump. Jamil swallowed bitterly and held the letter to the side, opening the door. It was probably Kalim again with another request.

Instead he saw Yuu. Jamil blinked, then looked up at them. “A message. For you.”

Jamil looked at the note in your hand and his brow furrowed. He tentatively took it and opened it, examining the note. 

… Huh…?

He was already approved to attend? To get out of here? He has a chance to be in the spotlight?

“I got approval.. for you.” Your voice is quiet. You did this for him? After all these years you're still looking out for him? Even when you're like this?

Jamil looked up at you again. “Thank you. “ His voice was curt, bitterness on his tongue. 

“I told you you'd make it some day. And I promised I would support you.” Frustration dares to bubble in his heart.

“I didn't know you still remembered.” Jamil tries to play it off, but he cannot deny the sadness within him. “Of course I do. I'm always looking out for you.”

There's a pause in the air. “I'm sorry…” a strained murmur escapes you. “I know I haven't been around as much but…” There's a sadness in his eyes he hasn't seen in a long time. “I still want you to be happy.” 

There was so much bubbling under Jamil's skin. “Then why weren't you here when I needed you?” His voice cracked. Yuu's concern struck a rusted chord in him. For a moment he was 11 and talking to his older sibling again as they held him.

“I did what I had to do. It's my job.” Jamil's face fell.

“You… you…” he clenched his fist, invitation in his hand crinkling. “That's all you care about isn't it?! Your mission! Your servitude! Your loyalty has no limits huh? You'd kill yourself if you were told you to!” Jamil began to laugh in the middle of his outburst, chest heaving and tears falling as he continued. “I… I don't even recognize you anymore! I’ve been having to do this all on my own!”

He was sobbing, there's so much he wants to yell at you for but there's a part of him that loves you so much he can’t. “I know that I can't expect you to be the same after that day. And your job…” Jamil pauses to catch his breath, his fingers gently tracing the nearly faded scar on his neck from that day.

“But I just… Wish you were here…” Jamil looked down at the floor, defeated. Tears running down his face. Kalim. If it wasn't for him. He took them away from him.

“Jamil.” His head snapped up and he looked at Yuu, then at their outstretched hand. The elephant piece rested in your palm. The ivory white was yellowed from its age, the cracks that once covered it, filled and repaired by some sort of gold clay. 

“Do you remember this?” Jamil sniffed and nodded. “Yeah… We'd play with it all the time as kids. You always had it on your side.” They nodded.

“... It reminds me of you…” Yuu turned Jamil's arm and placed it into his hand, making sure to close his fist around it. “Everytime I went out on a mission, I kept this on me to remind me who I was doing it for. You and Najma.”

Jamil examined the piece in his hand then looked up at your brooding expression. “I thought that if I accepted this position, if I did all of this... That you would both get more freedoms. That maybe, no other Viper would be needed except for me.”

Yuu swallowed, their eyes welling with tears. “But I was wrong. I see that now. This is who I became.” Yuu looks down at themself. Unaware to Jamil were the ugly scars that covered them. Painful and deep. A reminder for their eyes only of their place. Their clothing hid it well, but they could still feel them.

“I at least managed to convince the Asims to let you attend Night Raven College.”

Jamil froze, looking up at the chess piece then to Yuu. His heart pounded. What? That's what you meant earlier? You did this? For him? His mind swirled with emotions, he's happy, he’s angry, he’s sad, but most of all there's a warmth that grows in his chest.

“I cannot be saved. I already sealed my fate. It doesn't have to be the same for you and Najma. You go out there. Study hard. Enjoy your freedom. I'll keep looking for a way for you to escape, both of you…” Their voice sounded almost desperate, like these words would be the last they ever speak. “I'll look after her while you're away, so don't worry.” 

Yuu looked down. “I know his isn't enough. I'm sor—” Jamil wrapped his arms around them before they could finish. “You… idiot! You…” Jamil wiped his tears on their shirt, basking in their warmth for the first time in a long time.

It's unknown just how much time has passed when Jamil stops crying and pulls away, face flushed and eyes puffy. Yuus face is still solid, but he could see hints of the warm, charismatic person he once knew. The two stared at each other, before Jamil looked at the piece again.

“I have a board here… want to play?” His voice was hoarse amidst the silence that ensued. A nod from Yuu and they were now setting up the board.

This was far from mending their relationship. There were still plenty of unresolved issues and sore spots between the two. He was still mourning the Yuu he knew and Yuu was still trying to recover who they once were. But this was a start.

“Here.” Jamil tried to hand Yuu the elephant just for them to push it away. “No, not this time.” Yuu says as they rotate the board so the white side faces him. There was a missing knight right where Yuu would usually put it.

Jamil places it down on the board, admiring it as he overlooked the pieces. The elephant stood out amongst them all—A diamond in the rough Yuu would say. Yuu then spoke.

“This time, you go first"

[henwinchesters]

psps somnophilia w afab satoru riding reader whilst their asleep

# 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 drabble !

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 consented to this kind of thing, but satoru knew better than to actually try this when you were sleeping. your pretty boy couldn’t help it though.

waking up from a wet dream with his own essence leaving his panties all wet, pink nipples all hard and perky from the coldness and his arousal. tender to the touch of them rubbing against your skin from when he was cuddled up with you.

satoru took a quiet deep breathe while raising his hips, biting his tongue to silence himself as he rubbed his folds along the side of your girthy shaft. he stroked you to hardness just before he climbed into your lap, using spit and your pre as lube. grinning like a little manic when you groaned, hips jutting upward as he placed a kiss on your tip.

slowly, satoru sank back down on your cock, allowing every vein and ridge to rub among his insides, reaching deeper and deeper until there was a little pudge in his lower stomach.

“ohh! mmm”

his oceanic eye were blown full of lust, lips parted in a silent moan as he rocked his hips down against you. satoru could feel every beat and pulse of your dick, hands coming to claw at your abdomen. his sloppy insides snug around you.

“so-so full, ahnn!”, satoru rocked his hips a few more times in circles— pulsing clit rubbing against your pelvis. you were in shambles, the hisses and husky grunts had him absolute leaking.

soon enough he’s full on bouncing on top of you, ass slamming down on your thighs and pussy gripping your dick like it was gonna disappear. he was crying like a damn animal, begging for more although he knew you wouldn’t answer — you couldn’t be that heavy of a sleeper!

“oh fuck! oh fuuuuck! yesss ah!”, satoru’s back arched to the high gods as his pussy leaves your thighs wet. he could feel you leaking inside of him, ready to explode at any point and he was going to take every drop. his greedy pink cunt rhythmically clenching around you as he drew near and near.

satoru’s hands grasped onto the head board, nails digging into the expensive material from how hard he was riding you. the thought that you were purposefully playing sleep now crossed his mind but fuck he didn’t care, as long as he creamed your cock and you nutted deep in his womb he’d be fine with that.

© ASTROKNOTT 2023 !