#the only reason he's still so rough around the edges and like letting a bit too much sentiment show is that he hasn't fully recovered yet
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tonyglowheart · 9 months ago
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"Yan Wushi sucks bc he sold Shen Qiao out to Sang Jingxing, and not only that-- not only did he never apologize, but also he said he never regrets it!!"
First off, god forbid women do anything 🙄
Second off - like I mean yes I believe him lmao - but, under normal circumstances he would NEVER say that, have you stopped to consider that he said that to try to put Shen Qiao off so maybe he'd leave/leave Yan Wushi behind and escape the danger?
Literally right before this, he's like, why don't you leave me behind hm :3 you'd escape danger and be rid of an extra burden. (this does Not work). hmph, when have I ever treated you well, A-Qiao? but then he *hides him in the temple to try to keep him safe*, next time you're go to Northern Zhou speak to Yuwen Yong, I'm sure he'll show you ZhuyangCe , also tell Bian Yanmei not to worry about me and take care of himself (SQ: I'm not someone from Huanyue Sect why would bym listen to me? you better go and tell him yourself / YWS! I didn't expend all that effort getting you this far so you could give yourself up!)-- And THEN, only then, does he go I never regretted giving you up! and yet you are not rejoicing at my misfortune, but look so devastated instead?
AND THEN!!! AND THEN !!!! HE SAYS ALL THIS:
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(Qian Qiu ch79, nhi's tl)
This whole scene and moment is like literally the one (1) sentimentality to leak out of Yan Wushi, and you have the gall to piss on the poor and fixate on the facade and not see the poorly concealed soft heart spilling through the cracks? This is, like, the least locked down we see Yan Wushi ever, he's still so off balance due to the not-fully-recovered-yet Agonies that he's not even fully misdirecting properly, it's all there on display. If you could but read.
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ramonathinks · 4 months ago
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RAISE THE STAKES.
being a therapist was hard enough without the leader of an infamous group becoming your patient or to answer your questions, sylus has a few requests.
(18+, no minors! no blank accounts!) inappropriate relationships, patient!slyus, therapist!reader, munch slyus, oral and female masturbation, slight pussy inspection, dirty talk. exhibitionism, dry humping, word count: 3k... short and sweet
tagging: @xmiisuki @sunasbon @sugugasm <3
There was something clinical and plain about your office — though technically you were a type of doctor — the decor screamed hospital more than a comfortable place to tell your deepest darkest secrets. Faint pale blue walls with littered old stickers from the previous child therapist and even the stench of crayons … not to mention the floor tiles, squared with an iced blue paint that made the room both childish and clinical. Something fitting for a child hospital or even a former child psych ward.
That was the reason you decided for this particular appointment you’d switch rooms to somewhere more adult and that hopefully your boss would let you stay there. The pristine polished marble floors and white walls, two empty lush chairs and a small brown wooden table with magazines with two waters sitting on top. This was your dream room and one you felt you deserved. You were the most decorated person on your floor — top of your class in your undergrad and graduate class, internships at major places, yet you settled for here. Settled. It was smack dabbed in the middle of a city that needed you most. A dangerous city… but somewhere you felt like you could actually make a difference. 
Sitting in the chair towards the window you awaited for Sylus Qin – a name that sent more than enough shivers up your spine but who’s name spiked your curiosity, especially seeing it written for a first appointment directly with you. 
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He walked in, his presence loud and alarming from the moment he stepped into the door, looking at you before he sat down in the seat closest to the door. You inhaled, the deep smell of metallic and what you must’ve guessed was gunpowder filled your nostrils. “You’re late,” You told him with a small smile. “And for your first appointment nevertheless.” Your tone is light and playful, you only hoped that he understood that. 
He arches a white brow and slouches back on the couch, it was obviously too small for his broad body and long legs but he still stretched them so they were nearing yours. “A meeting held me up.” He waited for some form of reaction before he looked away from you, probably now disappointed when your face remained blank.
You cleared your throat, “I’m quite sure that you didn’t come here on your own volition, so why are you here? I know that you of all people couldn’t have been forced.” You crossed your legs, watching his eyes glance at them.
“Two nuisances…” He grumbles, his face scrunched into a deadly scowl but his crimson eyes remain gentle as he looks at you. “It seems that I’ve been even more aggressive as of late.” He shrugs his shoulders as if he disagrees with the diagnosis. 
“Well… what made them come to that conclusion?” You watched him open his mouth to answer before he paused, thinking something. It takes a while before he speaks again and when he does he shocks you.
“What do I get if I answer any of your silly little questions…?” There’s a huskiness to his voice, a rough edge as he speaks. His eyes are trained on you, following you as your body sways a bit. 
You quirk a brow, “You want a reward for being…compliant?” You straighten your posture, looking at him with slightly wide eyes, it was the first time someone asked for something so ridiculous. “You tell me what you want—” You start before he interrupts you.
“Your panties.” Curt. Simple. Straightforward. You blinked, staring at this man and questioning how you managed to get yourself in this position. 
 Was the money worth it? That was the question roaming around your head as you just stared at him. How could he ask you such a thing with a serious face expression. “My panties? That would tempt you to answer the questions truthfully?” The skirt you were wearing felt a thousand times shorter and the room felt too warm for you to ignore the wetness you felt between your —
Your eyes twitched. A conversation alone, brief… and your panties were drenched, sticky to your folds. It would do wonders for your career to have gotten the man himself… the big leader of a malicious group to be less violence. So you sigh, “You want them now—”
“As an act of good faith,” He says smoothly. “Let’s put all our cards out on the table…How about you at least take them off so I know you’re being truthful to me.” 
You sucked your teeth, debating with yourself on if you really should do this or not. Your career is on the line regardless of each decision. You could just deny him, tell him off and force him out of your office. But your body seemed to be screaming at you to just do it. You hadn’t had sex nor a true orgasm in more than a year… possibly two and yet with him sitting in front of you, you felt as if you were close.
Your mouth no longer produces saliva and your throat dry as you slide them down your legs; you held them and watched a smirk take over his face. You couldn’t believe yourself honestly, this wasn’t something you’d ever expect yourself to do. While you weren’t exactly a good girl, you had standards… you couldn’t believe you were being so trashy. Yet the excitement in your body spilled out of your center and with his eyes glued there while you removed your underwear, your body shook.
“Already the air smells so better in here.” He chuckles and you feel embarrassment cloud your mind. “To answer your question from before… Apparently they believe I’m in a foul mood since I’ve been less tolerant on certain things that in the past, I was more passive on. They’ve expressed to me that with the rough ways I’ve been handling business has grown rather…impulsive.”
“Do you agree with that?” You recross your legs. “I’ve always heard that you were impulsive and honestly, I never heard anyone say you were passive… Do you think you’ve ever been passive? Do you think you can paint me a picture of yourself?”
He reaches out his hand and for a moment you’re confused before you realize he’s asking for his reward. Handing him the panties, you see him sniff them and it makes your insides quiver. This man… he was too much for you. 
“I see myself as…” He thinks, his eyebrows furrowed, he taps his foot on the ground. “I often find myself bored and find myself indulging in self destructive behavior... taking on more than I can and getting myself injured.” He scoffs. “I guess this particular time they're talking about is when I knew I was being set up but still decided to go alone without informing them - Luke and Kieran, I mean.”
“So they care about you?” You ask, mentally taking notes of every word and ever ounce of movement and even taking account of his voice and tone.
“Sure.” His voice has a slight tremble to it. “We’ve been together for longer than I can remember being without them…” Then he’s closed off again, acting as if he revealed too much to you. His crimson eyes trace up your legs again, he bites his lips.
You recrossed your legs. “Anyway…” You cough. “Is there a thrill in putting yourself in these situations? Or is there a need to demonstrate that your reputation is correct… to stop or limit people from defying you?” You are met with silence and a sinister glint in Sylus’ eyes. “Sylus? Do you need me to repeat the question?”
“I answered some for your panties. For this next question, you’ll have to do something else for me to answer it… unless you want a lie…or more silence.” His roaming eyes told you all that you needed to know, this request would be more.
A scowl on your face, “My panties weren’t enough?” You’re close to rolling your eyes at him, you want to hate him but it’s something in those eyes that keeps you from it. After this you knew that you’d decline any other visits from him, you might as well entertain him— no, you want to slap yourself for even thinking that thought. 
“I wanna see you cum, pet that pretty pussy and put a show on for me.” He says and you gasp, full blown as you stare at him. “C’mon kitten, don’t be so coy.” His eyes darkened but still his tone remained playful; slick gathered at your thighs and it’s almost as if he scented it with how quick his eyes snapped to your skirt.
“Sylus, the panties were already inappropriate enough. I can lose my license—” You stammer, your voice small and timid as you speak. This man… would be the death of you.
“I won’t let that happen.” 
You swallow, staring hard in his eyes. Looking in his eyes made you want to bend to his every whim and to continue. Your thighs spread a bit because honestly, you wanted this. “Fine.” You relinquished every ounce of self respect you had for yourself and spread your legs completely apart. A slap of cool air brushes against your bare skin, your shutter but spread your folds. You rub at your clit, staring in those addicting eyes. 
He drinks in the sight of you — dripping and oozing out spilling to the chair, he straightens himself, his eyes now locked between your thighs. Your clit is hard and throbbing knowing that his eyes are on your most delicate parts. You circle your entrance, collecting the slick that sits there before you dip it inside – teasing both you and him. You feel the warmth of yourself as you stroke your finger in and out of your walls, sloppy noises echoing around the room. Your thighs tremble and breathing heavy, he briefly glances at your face and back to the dripping sight below.  Your face scrunched up in a sense of pure ecstasy, you pop your finger out of your cunt and you put a finger in your mouth before rubbing your clit again, your thighs bucking and your hips humping upwards. 
His feet tap against the floor watching another finger join the one already knuckle deep inside of you, his fingers twitch looking at how wet and creamy your fingers are pumping in and out. “There’s a thrill… and excitement that comes with doing dangerous things…” His voice trails off, your mouth agape spilling little moans. “It feels good… it’s never a sense of pride, it’s more of a –” Using your other hand, you rub fast at your clit at the same time your fingers thrust inside deeper, hitting another spot that makes a bit of cream drip under you. “It’s more of a simple pleasure, just something to take the edge off of life. It’s a high… c’mon kitten, you’re killing me there. Need to see your face when you cum.” 
Your stomach sucks in at the words and you whine, leaking with a deep orgasm and deep breathing. “Ohhhhh!” Cream continues to spill out, you milk yourself more – curling your fingers before you pull them out with a drawn out moan. “Oh, mmm…” You feel so tired, your eyes dropping and a fuzzy brain when you turn your attention back on him. 
“What’s your next request for answering this last question?” You huff, your face flushed and your body trembling. You still tried to cover yourself but he just laughed, full and heartily. 
“I want you to sit on my face.” He’s hard, tapping his foot against the floor again still looking at your creamy pussy. “That’s all.”
“What?” But it shouldn’t surprise you anymore, no matter how much you fought on his demands… you knew you’d give in and you knew how badly you wanted him.
“I want you to sit on my face.” He said again, nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders. 
“But… why? Are you trying to make me lose my job? Or are you just insane and don’t care about my livelihood or my dignity?” But really, it didn’t matter, with all you did now… your license was already revoked. 
“Would you rather be a good girl and sit on my lap? Grind yourself on my cock?” It was an enticing offer and you had to mentally stop yourself from taking it up. “Just keep being an obedient little girl like you have been and come sit on my face.” He’s pulling himself from the chair to lie on the floor with a bright smile on his lips. He waited, both of you already knew that you were going to come. 
“First... put your fingers in my mouth.” It makes you jump when he says that but you swallow your nerves and pride, reaching over and letting his tongue work its way through your fingers, his tongue slimy wet and sticky all at once. He groans out at the taste. “Sit.” He says simply. You’d never did this before, your legs trembled just standing above his head and even more when you bent down. 
You hovered over him, a string of your slick dripping over his face before he moved his head to capture it between his tongue with a groan; swirling his tongue in a circular motion as he took in the taste. “So wet…tastes so good.” His voice deep and inviting; sticking his tongue inside then flicks his tongue against your clit and wraps his mouth around it — sucking it before he releases it with a plop sound.  “Sit.” He told you, rubbing his hands across your ass, spreading it so that your pussy would wink at him with a small gushy sound. He firmly sits completely on his face so that his face is covered with you. 
His tongue feels like a thousand tongues when you drip over his face, grinding your hips and circling them. Your knees digging into the floor when you slide forward and back against him.“Sy–lus!” The pad of his tongue licks up your slit, moving to your folds and up to suckle on your throbbing clit. You tug his hair and he buries his face impossibly more into your pussy. Grinding and shaking his face into you before gripping your hips to make you really grind against his mouth.
You squeal with every moment as he uses his tongue to curl deep inside of you – your legs shaking and he slurps. Your toes curl inside of your stuffy shoes and though you can’t see his face because of the skirt you wear, you can feel the devilish smirk against your flesh.
He pulls you up, holds you. A string of his salvia and your slick and cream mixed together on his lips. “Never did ask that question, sweetie.”
“Oh, fuck you Sylus.” He’s sitting you back down, your thighs squeezing his head. His mouth latched to your clit and doing deep sucks with his fingers pressed deep in your thighs. Opening his mouth wider to truly capture all of what he can of your cunt — there’s a deep hunger in every lick he gives, his tongue dragging down from your clit to your slit and back up again. He laps at your folds with nothing else but groans and soft moans that leave both of your mouths.
His tongue swirls on your clit before small soft kisses that make you flinch. Cream and slick trickling down your thighs, your hips continue to hump him — it was as if his face belonged there, his tongue glued to your core and eating up everything you had to offer. Lifting you again, he says, “Want to feel that pretty pussy soaking me… you’d like that won’t you?” He grins, showing all his teeth. You’re quick to nod your head, tears in your eyes… this man was turning you into his plaything and you could care less… there was a thrill to this.
He doesn’t take off his pants much to your disappointment but he helps you to sit on his lap, his lust filled scarlet eyes filled with nothing but desire as he rolls his hips against yours. A small gasp leaves your mouth, your bare cunt soaking his pants and his cock deliciously digging into your core. You wrap your arms around his neck and squeeze your eyes shut, letting him thrust up against your throbbing center. 
Throwing your head back – you rock your hips back and forth against his clothed cock – feeling him press himself harder into you, rubbing himself against your core with deep throaty groans of pleasure leaving his mouth. You try to match his movements, hips bouncing up and down against him with needy whines leaving your lips. You both hiss when his cockhead brushes up against your clit – he rubs himself back and forth repeatedly, slowly while you move faster – chasing that high and in that moment you knew of the pleasure and the high that Sylus mentioned earlier because your body was reveling in it. 
Your stomach swoops at the sticky sounds that come from your pussy and the soft noises he makes. Even with soundproof office spaces, you wouldn’t be surprised if someone heard you both. Lazy grinding becomes thrusting again before downright dirty gyrating of both of you against each other – so close, you were almost there yet again. Pathetic sinful whimpers falling out of your mouth, he presses openmouthed kisses up and down your neck, nibbling on your clavicle. Your back arches, tears falling from your eyes, your pussy sliding against him and his hips stuttering. But he stops, standing you both up. 
“W–why’d you stop?” You’re gasping for air on trembling legs, he holds you close. Small sniffles leaving your mouth, desperate to feel him.
“I believe our time is up, sweetie. Maybe another visit will help unpack more.” He chuckles, walking towards the door. “I’ll return these on my next visit.”
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gothcsz · 2 months ago
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can we talk about javi angry fucking you? like for some reason you guys are having a HUUGE fight and something inside him just snaps and he takes you then and there, wherever you are. he sets a brutal pace and orders you to say his name but it's so much you can't!? ugh, excuse me, i am ovulating and this thought needed to be shared. I desperately need angry rough javi in my life
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tags: f!reader, post s3!javi, established relationship, no use of y/n, reader has hair that can be pulled, reader understands spanish, term(s) of endearment (gatita), angst, cussing, break up, arguing, light dub con, smut, unprotected p in v sex (be safe irl), saliva as lube, a little bit of exhibitionism, creampie, hurt/no comfort i think, javi being an ass, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.
~ 2.1k w/c - gif found on pinterest
a/n: me when i read that you're ovulating. but okay, this prompt was just so angsty and juicy. tyvm for that! i couldn't help but connect this to my fantasize series (you guys should clock in. let's stalk javi together)— but it can totally be read as a standalone! enjoyyyyy 🖤
Dinner with Javier’s family is always a lively affair, filled with chatter, laughter, and the steady clinking of forks and knives against plates.
You’re doing your best to keep up, smiling at the stories being shared and listening to the good-natured teasing from his relatives. But then, one of his cousins starts talking about how Javier’s taking on more responsibilities at the family ranch, taking charge now that Chucho is preparing to step down.
He beams as he talks about it. “You should see Javi. Got the whole thing runnin’ like a machine, and he’ll be takin’ full ownership soon, ain’t that right, Javi?”
You freeze, fork halfway to your mouth. Your eyes snap to your boyfriend, searching his face for any hint of explanation, an acknowledgment, anything that might explain what you’re hearing.
But he just nods with a slight, almost bashful smile, as though this was something you should’ve expected, something he had already told you. Except he hasn’t.
Your heart thuds painfully as your stomach twists, an uncomfortable heat spreading across your face. It’s been months of back-and-forth, of what you thought were shared dreams about moving to the city together, finding a way to make things work while your career takes off.
You’d convinced yourself you were on the same page. But here he is, making other plans, without even thinking to tell you.
You try to keep your tone light, but there’s an unmistakable edge in your voice. “Taking full ownership, huh? Guess that’s news to me.”
Javier shifts in his seat, glancing at you with a look that’s half-warning, half-apologetic. “I am his only son. It makes sense,” he responds, very matter-of-factly.
His family’s already watching, sensing the shift in the air, and there’s no pulling back now.
“Funny, I thought we were still talking about our plans to move to the city,” you force a smile on your lips, but the sting behind your words is unmistakable.
He sighs, clearly getting exasperated, looking at you as if to say, Not here. You can feel the weight of everyone’s eyes, the quiet confusion as they look between you both, piecing together the fragments of a conversation they aren’t meant to hear.
You swallow hard, unable to bear the mix of embarrassment and betrayal.
Pushing back from the table, you excuse yourself, your voice tight. “I need a minute.”
You make it inside, rushing up the stairs and into his bedroom, gathering your things with shaking hands. You know he’s going to follow you, and sure enough, a moment later, you hear the door creak open, then his heavy footsteps.
“What the hell was that?” He demands in a sharp tone, confusion and anger lacing his words.
You spin around, dropping your things onto the bed as you plant your hands on your hips. “Why didn’t you tell me about these new plans of yours, Javier?” 
He sighs heavily, hating when you use his full name, rolling his tongue over his teeth as he tries to find the right words. “Because I knew you’d be upset,” he says flatly, as though it’s an explanation that should satisfy you.
That’s his justification for keeping this from you? The anger inside you flares hotter, bubbling over as you let out a bitter laugh. “So instead, I get to sit there like a fool, blindsided, while your cousin tells me about the future you’re planning without even thinking to clue me in?”
“God, would you calm down?” he mutters, frustration tightening his features. “This isn’t something we need to talk about right now.”
You’re practically shaking, hurt clawing at you. “You don’t get it, do you? You said you’d try this with me. You promised we’d make this work together, that you’d support my career—our future.”
“This is me trying!” he snaps back, his voice rising in frustration. “Why are you being so damn selfish? I can’t just leave my pops to run this place by himself. He’s not getting any younger.”
You search his face, trying to understand, but all you see is irritation and defensiveness.
“He has other ranch hands. Other family. You promised.”
His eyes narrow, and he takes a step closer, his jaw clenched. “Why are you making this all about you?” he growls. “If I’d known things would end up like this, I would have left you back in Colombia.”
You’re stunned momentarily, speechless as the weight of his words sinks in.
You shake your head slowly, your voice cold as you look up at him. “You’re a piece of shit, Javier. I can’t believe you would say that to me.”
Your words strike a nerve, a phrase that’s been said to him by plenty of people yet hurting the most when you’re the one saying it. His eyes darken, expression shifting. “What did you just say?” he murmurs, cocking his head as he takes slow steps toward you.
“I said you’re a piece of shit, Javier,” you repeat, steady despite the tremor running through you. “And I’m done with—”
Before you can finish, his hand reaches up, wrapping around your throat tightly yet with careful pressure, and he pulls you close, lips crashing against yours in a kiss that’s unyielding and bruising.
Despite the fury burning inside you, your body responds, helplessly drawn to the passion only he can ignite.
Your hands find his shoulders, gripping tightly as he presses you back against the wall, swallowing the soft gasp that escapes your lips when a few of the photo frames rattle.
His mouth is punishing and you can barely breathe with how tight he’s holding you, but there’s something undeniably thrilling about it that licks right through you, even as the hurt from before lingers.
When he finally releases his hold on your neck, his hands become fervent, moving roughly along your body as if claiming you all over again.
Harshly groping your breasts, moving down to cup your ass— you can’t pull him close enough to let this anger turn into the twisted relief you both need.
Clothes fall away in frantic pulls and tugs, shirts and pants pooling on the floor, discarded and forgotten. Between desperate fingers and tongues, you’re too aware that, if you part, the argument will bubble back up, and you don’t want that to happen yet.
His lips move over your skin, leaving love bites that blaze hot and brand you with the one of a kind feeling of him.
You grip his triceps, nails digging in as you drink each other’s breaths, tasting the tension between you, until you’re bare, and your bodies meet in a tangle of angry lust.
He maneuvers you toward the window, your hands bracing against the glass instinctively, the cold against your chest making you gasp.
He presses against you from behind, his body heat searing, grounding you in the storm of emotions that threaten to pull you under.
Your bare breasts flatten against the window, and the chill of the glass has your nipples puckering.
He spits into his hand, tugging at his cock, running it through the sticky mess of your cunt before thrusting into you, making you take every glorious inch all at once.
You gasp loudly, almost choking on the sound. It’s intense, too much, yet somehow exactly what you need, pulling you deeper into the unfiltered feeling pulsing between you.
You aren’t as wet as he usually gets you, and the burn from the stretch of fitting him inside your tight, wet cunt  mimics the burn you’d felt in your heart at his indifference towards you. His girlfriend.
Javier leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he growls, “If they look over here, they’ll see you taking this cock like a real selfish slut.”
The words have your shivering, shocking and exhilarating, just as he is, and your head tilts back as you let out a strangled, breathy moan.
“Causing a scene in front of everyone,” he tuts mockingly, “¿No tienes modales, gatita?” (Don't you have manners?)
Your fingers splay against the window, nails scratching down the surface, making a grating sound, as he thrusts harder, each punch of his cock against that one specific weak spot is sending you closer to the edge.
His rhythm is exacting and every bit of you is caught between the pressure of the cold glass and the heat of his body.
“Say my name,” he orders, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging it harshly, holding you firm against his shoulder as he glares down at you, eyes glazed over with need and his dark brows pulled together in a frown.
Your scalp stings at the pull, pretty eyes rolling to the back of your head and your throat tightens, making it impossible for words to escape you. Your pussy throbs around him, losing the fight against the sensations he’s overwhelming you with.
“Say it,” he demands again, his voice roughened with irritation, but the pace continues to be relentless, borderline uncomfortable, your body bending to his will.
He’s pushed you to a point where you’re nothing but a quivering, whiny mess. The friction of your nipples rubbing against the glass leaves them tender and raw, adding another edge of pleasure-pain.
“Got you all fucked out you can’t even say my damn name.” He chuckles humorously, but it’s drowned out by a low groan as his cock twitches inside of you, the sound of your ass slapping back against his pelvis echoing throughout the room. 
“C’mon gatita, tell me who’s making you feel this good even when you’re pissed off.”
The way he taunts you makes your blood boil, and you have half a mind to turn around and slap him—but it’s so fucking hot and you’re not going to lie to yourself about that.
Instead, you smirk and deliberately clench around him, watching him groan as his fingers tighten in your hair. 
“No seas asi. Say it.” (Don't be like that) He pushes you forward, cheek smushed against the window as his palm presses into your lower back, arching you even more, and that has his cock fucking you at a different angle that is much more overwhelming than the last.
“Ay Javi!” You can’t help but exclaim, some of your saliva landing on the glass from how you spit his name out.
He smirks to himself, that’s all he needs to let his own orgasm rip through him. With one last harsh thrust, he grips your hips, driving deep, a sharp cry breaks free as pleasure shatters through you, your body shaking with release, unable to form a single coherent thought except his name.
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, burying his cock fully inside you, his heavy balls pressing against your swollen clit as he fills your cunt with his load.
His forehead falls against your shoulder, teeth then nipping at the damp skin until he’s kissing up to bury his face in your neck.
Your brain is foggy, and it takes a few seconds of you trying to catch your breath before your heart and mind are in sync again and the argument that led to this resurfaces. 
“Javier,” you murmur, your throat scratchy, and you swallow before you can go on, “we shouldn’t have done that.”
He scoffs, pulling out of you, making the both of you hiss. You feel his warm cum leaking from your spent pussy and your thighs twitch, inadvertently making more of it flow out. You quickly bend down to grab your underwear, using it to clean yourself, trying to clear both the physical and emotional remnants of him.
He opens his mouth to speak, but you’re already moving, pulling on your clothes. “I’m done.”
Fully dressed, you watch his expression shift, and it almost makes you second-guess the words you’re about to say. Almost.
“We gave it a shot and clearly, it’s not working. Nuestras prioridades no se alinean.” (Our priorities don't align)
“No seas ridícula,” (Don't be ridiculous) he waves you off and that makes you feel so small. “What’s best for us is to stay here.”
You laugh dryly at the sting of his dismissal. You’re tempted to pinch yourself to check if this is real—wondering if this is the same Javier that practically begged you to come back to the States with him.
He’s not acting like the agent you fell in love with.
“No, what’s best is for us to go our separate ways.” Finality settles into the quiet like stones. “We rushed into this, we let the chase and the sex take the lead without thinking it through.” You shake your head, haphazardly packing to keep from falling apart entirely.
“I should have seen this coming. I’m such an idiot.” Now I see why a handsome man like you was single.
You should have remained the woman you were before him, independent, career focused—the one that avoided relationships like the plague because they only ended in disappointment.
Case in point. 
He remains silent as he watches you pack the rest of your things and it really breaks your heart. He isn’t even trying to stop you.
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started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤
🏷️ : @almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @persephone-girl . @magneticecstasy . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @angiewatson . @sunshinefive .
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i-starcreamed · 3 months ago
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Can you write something with D16 and a human reader please? Maybe like seeing a human for the first time and befriending eachother, then the reader develops feelings because I mean....D16 XD (There is literally nothing of transformers one 😭) PS. I don't know why but I feel like transformers one character at least the miners are closer to human height for some reason 🤣 (sorry for yapping I'm obsessed)
D-16 X READER
Ok so…very unrealistic because yknow, no humans on cybertron. However I made up my own scenario :3 in my mind humans reach about to the knees of mine bots. You’ll make it work..
Human! Reader
Dumb fluff, no sad stuff
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Reader is a space explorer who SOMEHOW MAGICALLY managed to successfully land on Cybertron with some of their survival kit intact (food, water, etc). What they didn’t expect was to encounter a train looking vehicle, hopping in it out of curiosity. What they also never expected was the train to start moving at full speed, charging inside of the planet as the crust literally opened up.
Your throat almost went sore because of your screaming.
You shifted, groaning as you sat up from your laying position. God, your head was pounding, what even happened? The ground beneath you was cold and rough, like the texture of popcorn wall if it were made of metal. Around you, you could hear the sound of wheels screeching, metal banging. Whatever you were on was not a smooth ride.
You opened your eyes, your breath hitched as you saw a figure above you. They were looking straight forward, both their hands placed on the edge of the cart. And they were not human. No human is that big.
You swiveled your head around you, seeing a pile of large rocks surrounding you. They were glowing a bright blue, looking quite radioactive. Okay, maybe you and your team expected a tiny bit of life here—but not a whole…whatever this was. You slowly stood up, carefully making your way towards the rock nearest to you. You struggled to move, all the rocks were basically covering your body. The rocks rolled over softly as you lifted an arm.
“Hey there,”
You froze, hearing a deep voice above you. You turned around, eyeing the figure still looking away from you. They looked to their side, mimicking the human expression of curtly smiling and nodding to someone to their right. You sighed in relief.
Placing both your palms on the edge of the cart, you pulled yourself up, letting the rocks fall away from your legs. You peeled your head over the cart, your eyes widening at the life around you. Sooo many robot beings walking around and pushing minecarts, all in different colors and similar size. You let out a small gasp.
D-16 raised a brow, hearing a noise just below him. He did a double take as he saw..something poking out of his cart. He froze. You froze. You both frozed.
“AHH!” You both yelled at the same time, backing away from eachother.
You fall back in between the rocks, probably scraping your back against one. Simotaniously, he bumped into someone’s cart in back of him, he muttered an awkward apology as he hurried along with his cart—he couldn’t let anyone else see this…thing.
He rushed over, taking a sharp turn and away from everyone doing their jobs.
When he stopped, he leaned over his cart to take a good look at you.
“Okay…what! What are you?” He whispered yelled, honestly feeling a bit defensive. You couldn’t blame him, he’s never seen a species like you. Sure, you were smaller. You were about the size of his leg..definitely shorter.
“I uh..I could ask the same thing…” you nervously said.
When you two first met you were very cautious of eachother. You were both scared. I think it took him a while to realize you were from a wholeee different planet. You were a space explorer? That’s cool! He’s definitely going to ask you about cybertrons surface, even though you insist you only saw it for a couple minutes before being kidnapped by a train.
He becomes so interested in you. Eventually, you OF COURSE get introduced to Orion. He had the same reaction, but was equally as intrigued. We all know how much he loves history and learning, they’re both gonna ask so many questions. They do everything to keep you hidden away from other bots, ESPECIALLY DarkWing. Orion has never seen D-16 as enthusiastic about someone as he is about you. (Maybe except for Megatronious)
The three of you are almost always together, but you definitely spend more time with D. Instead of getting rest after a long day in the mines, he takes you around with you sitting atop his shoulder—just talking. Whenever he hears a bot approaching, he quickly snatches you off and holds you behind his back. Definitely not obvious.
Rest in piece to privacy, because you both have NONE! We saw how none of the miners have individual sleeping areas. You have to constantly sneak away—usually it’s places where Orion has taken him. Imagine being taken to their special places :((
You spend longer than you thought on Cybertron, it’s not like you had a choice. Your pod was left on the surface and most definitely scrapped for materials. No one knows who or what and where the mysterious person from the pod is. Lucky you
It’s only logical you begin to fall for D-16. He’s oddly charming, funny, dedicated, and caring. You spend all your time together. He introduced you to his best friend. He tells you about all his plans. Plus, it’s always exciting to go on little trips together, potentially risking getting caught. These trips eventually turn into dates btw
He has definitely called you cute and pet your head with one digit. Yeah that kinda did it, even though he meant it as a tease
You know that scene where the two went racing? They were in first place, they’re exhausted and D got hit. Despite this he grins, looking back at the cameras which he knows are streaming the race. He knows you’re watching all the way from that green light.
“This is for Y/—!!“ he begins, only to be interrupted when a jet zooms past them, knocking them both over and sending them flying. Idiots <3
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multifariousqueer · 11 months ago
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Ooo for a Nate request could you do something like Nate x shy virgin reader or something like that ?🤭
Ofc darling!!🩷
Warnings: smut, mentions of bruising and abuse, deflowering, sub! Reader, strong language, nate being rough, idk I think that’s it
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The warm autumn air brushed your skin as Nate’s hand snaked its way around your waist. He had began walking you to school during the summer so that you didn’t get kidnapped. That was one of his biggest fears, you getting kidnapped and assaulted. He would offer to drive you but you liked to walk when the weather was nice:
“So I’ll pick you up at 3, okay?” He spoke. It wasn’t a question so much as it was a statement.
You knew not to test Nate after seeing what he did to Maddy and Cassie. Nate would never intentionally hurt you physically, but hey, accidents happen right?
“Okay” you said softly. Nate loved when you would speak softly and do whatever he wanted.
He smiled and led you into the building, where he saw Maddy who gave you both a death glare:
*Flashback*
“You know he’s toxic, right? He held a gun to my head, are you fucking stupid? Why would you date him?” Maddy said to you once she found out about your relationship
“I’m sorry” you said in tears. You had always looked up to Maddy and seeing her mad at you made you want to die.
“You will be” she said before leaving. That was the last time you guys spoke three months ago.
Since that day, Nate became more and more protective over you. He was always the jealous and possessive type but this pushed it over the edge. Nate loved Maddy but he loved you more, and if anything happened to you, he would kill whoever hurt you with a baseball bat.
Nate always had his hand around your waist or holding your other hand as he carried your books in his abnormally large hand. If anyone looked at you funny, he would shoot them a death glare and grip you tighter, sometimes even leaving bruises. Nate liked leaving bruises because it proved that you belonged to him.
He watched as you migrated over to your friends and watched in awe at how pretty you looked. Your hair was in a ponytail and your clothes were tailored to your body perfectly, your smile lit up the room as you giggled at one of your girl friends jokes.
Nate barred you from having guy friends that weren’t his because he didn’t like the idea of someone hitting on you, Nate took offense whenever someone tried to take what was his. To him, you were his toy, his object of affection that only belonged to him and no one else. He admired how clean and untouched you were, never having a serious relationship before him and never even having sex at all. Thoughts of you in compromising positions and in outfits that only he could see littered his mind throughout the day and made his pants tighten. He couldn’t wait for what he had planned after school.
*Flashback*
Nate and you had gone to the mall one day after school. You browsed for a new pair of shoes but Nate had gone for other, more promiscuous reasons. He took you into Victoria Secret and bought you a bunch of lingerie in pink:
“Here. Try this” he said, holding up a stringy pair of underwear with a bra that had a bow on the breast.
You eyed it nervously before hesitantly agreeing to try it on.
You tried it on and Nate’s breath hitched. He pulled you in between his legs and grabbed the bow on the bra and pulled it, leaving your breasts exposed.
Nate pulled your sensitive buds in his mouth while you let out a small moan:
“Please not here” you breathed
Nate bit down on your nipple and gave you a look that told you to just go along with it. He rolled your nipple in between his teeth as you let out small moans and breaths, the fitting room getting a bit hot as his mouth moved from your nipples to your mouth:
“I don’t wanna take your virginity here, babe” he breathed
“Than where?” you asked
Nate whisked you up over his shoulder as he took off the lingerie and replaced it with your normal clothes. He walked up to the register, still holding you and said:
“These please”
You walked out of the mall and he ushered you into his truck, your outfit riding up a bit as you slid into the seat.
It seemed like you would never use that set but the day finally came. He took you to his house where he had a picnic in the backyard:
“Hi, y/n!” Nate’s mother said
“Hi, Mrs. Jacob’s” you answered with a smile
Nate’s family loved you because you made Nate seriously happy and you were respectful, unlike Maddy who disrespected them all the time.
Nate ushered you into the back and sat you down gracefully.
“Aww Nate, thank you so much” you cooed
“Mhmmm anything for you, babe” he spoke
You two chatted about any and everything, mostly about football and how he had found his fathers tapes:
“That’s horrible. What can I do to help?” You asked
“Well, now that you mention it-“ Nate started before lifting you up bridal style and carrying you to the bedroom.
You were innocent and Nate knew that. You had never done anything sexual with anyone in your life:
“Have you ever done this before?” Nate asked
“no” you said, feeling 1 inch tall
“Have you ever touched yourself?” He asked, looking down at you as he placed you on the bed.
“Ummm… yes” you said, hesitating to answer honestly because you were afraid that he wouldn’t be happy
“Hm. Okay” he said before laying you down on your back and spreading your legs
Nate pulled your panties off and spit on your core, sending low whimpers from your mouth into the space. He grabbed your neck and whispered in your ear:
“Can I fuck you?”
“yeah. just be gentle” you begged
Nate scoffed and said:
“always”
He rubbed circles along your clit as moans escaped your lips, sliding two fingers in and pumping them gently:
“Fuck you’re so tight for me” he breathed
Your mind was preoccupied on how full you felt. If his fingers were this big, you couldn’t imagine how big his cock was. Luckily, you didn’t have to imagine long because as your orgasm was approaching, Nate stopped, leaving you empty and frustrated.
“Not yet, cutie” he smiled.
Nate pulled out his hard cock as you watched in awe at the sheer size of it. He saw the look in your eyes and said:
“You’ll get used to it”
He pushed himself inside of you as you let out a moan of pain. You gripped onto his bicep as you felt like you were being split open by him. He let out a loud groan as he felt your warm walls grip onto him. His eyes found yours as tears filled your eyes and he grabbed your hand:
“Do you wanna stop?”
“I- ughh- no” you said through tears
Nate paused for a moment to give you time to adjust to him. You tapped him to let him know that he could keep going and he did. His hips moved at a slow pace as your face went from an expression of pain to pleasure. His pace picked up as moans escaped your lips and his mouth found your neck and chest, leaving large bruises on both. He wanted the world to know that he had you the night before, in such a vulnerable position underneath him.
His pace went from fast, to very fast as the vulgar sound of skin slapping and your tight cunt drove him to the edge. His eyebrows furrowing as his orgasm approached in a wave. He looked down at you and placed his hand on your neck as he angled his cock up so that it was touching your g spot. He thrusted upwards in a way that made your walls twitch and grip onto him. Your back arched and your mouth parted as your orgasm approached fast:
“I think I’m gonna cum” you moaned
“Not yet.” He said
“Please?” you pleaded
Nate pulled out his cock and you whimpered.
“Since you wanna act like a slut and not listen to me, I’ll treat you like the slut you are” he breathed before flipping you onto your stomach and holding onto your neck.
His thrusts were rough and merciless as you whined into the pillow, his grip tightening on your neck as his thrusts became sloppier and your orgasm became closer and closer.
“Cum. Now.” He barked
You did exactly that as a wave of pleasure washed over you and made you unable to move. You lay there, a moaning mess as your boyfriend released ropes of his cum into you, marking you as his.
“I’m sorry for being so rough” Nate said breathily
“Mmmmm it’s okay” you moaned
He picked you up and laid you on the mattress properly as he left to grab a cool towel and your favorite big shirt of his. You laid there reminiscing on how amazing your first time was.
Nate cleaned you up and joined you on the mattress, pulling you into his embrace.
“Nate?” You asked
“Yeah?” He said
“Can we do that again?” You asked innocently
He chuckled and said:
“Maybe tomorrow, Princess”
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soap-ify · 11 months ago
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can you do a smut to fluff comfort where simon is overstimulating them and being super degrading and they safeword? Then Simon takes care of them and is basically just super sweet.
this has been sitting in my inbox for so long :( so sorry anon i hope you like it!!
cw — smut at first, degradation, use of safeword, gentle aftercare and lots of comfort.
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simon had been frustrated that day, very frustrated after coming back from work. and you felt like trying something new for him.
“fucking slag… look at you takin’ this cock so well.” he spat bitterly, his girthy cock mercilessly ploughing into your tight cunt, his hands gripping your hips in a hard and bruising manner. “too dumb to even speak now, eh? only good for takin’ some cock.”
he had asked you so sweetly at first, if he could take his frustrations out on you, and you had agreed because you wanted to please your boyfriend so badly. plus some crappy porno made you think that rough sex can be amazing. silly reason, yeah.
but right now, all those insults spewing out of his mouth seemed genuine and scary, messing up with your head while your body was all sensitive from already orgasming a few times before. it was overwhelming, too overwhelming — and you knew that if you don’t speak up now, you’ll break down horribly anytime soon.
but god, you felt so guilty. you were supposed to be relaxing him, not turning it onto yourself.
“r-red…!” you managed to choke out, tears sliding down your cheeks as your fingers digged into his shoulder blades, causing simon to halt almost immediately.
“what?” his voice was gruff, eyes still a bit glossy from fucking you, though his grip had loosened significantly and worry was soon blooming onto his face.
“red…” you repeated weekly, lips wobbling as you quickly looked away, not wanting him to look at you crying over something like this.
simon gently eased himself out of you and rolled by your side, his calloused hands cradling your face. “oh, love… did i hurt you? was it too much?” he may have been sounding concerned and still reserved though he was internally panicking inside, wanting to rip and beat some sense into himself.
“yes,” you sniffled and nodded, your hands trembling as you leaned into his embrace, soft pants leaving your lips. “too rough..”
“fuck, m’sorry. so sorry, love. got carried away for a second, i-” he paused, his heart aching terribly with guilt and concern as he saw your face all soaked with tears. it soon dawned on him how mean he was being, even if you had agreed to it. he should’ve known that you were probably not used to this, maybe not even into it.
he slowly got up from the bed and helped you off the bed, his burly arms supporting you. he took you over to the bathroom and soon ran a warm bath for you, helping you sit in the bathtub, your little winces making his heart sink.
“i didn’t mean any of those words, y’know…” he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, his fingers gently caressing your head.
“i know…” you sniffled and smiled up at him sheepishly. “maybe i’m too soft for all that.”
simon sighed softly and sat by the edge of the bathtub, not caring about himself at all right now. all of his focus was solely on you, helping you clean yourself and dry up once you were done, dressing you in some comfortable pajamas.
once he came back after cleaning himself up, he sat down on the edge of the bed and looked over at you, his once stern brown eyes now soft with love and pain. “i’m so sorry, i mean it…”
“don’t apologise, si…” you gently wrapped your arms around his neck, his hands supporting your hips as he carefully propped you on top of him once he laid down, caressing your lower back.
“i love you… never wanna hurt you, y’know. m’so proud of you for speakin’ the safeword. so proud of you.” he smothered your head with chaste kisses, his breath caressing your skin.
“i love you too…” you mumbled softly, exhaustion soon taking over you. you let his heartbeat lull you into sleep alongside his soft murmurs, feeling safe once again.
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captain-hawks · 3 months ago
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IMAGINE BEING LOVED BY ME.
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issei matsukawa x f!reader
Your co-star drops out the morning that you're meant to get started on your latest film. The hastily written name on the call sheet for his last-minute replacement simply reads: MATTSUN.
wc: 3.6k tags: 18+ only, pornstar!mattsun, pornstar!reader, brat!reader, brat!tamer mattsun, teasing, dom!mattsun vibes, fingering, finger sucking, masturbation, edging, unprotected p in v, creampie -> requested
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“What happened to Iwaizumi?”
Glancing up from the latest copy of today’s script that was just handed to you, you point to where your co-star’s name is crossed out in black sharpie. Beside it, someone has hurriedly written ‘MATTSUN’. 
While the name vaguely rings a bell, you can’t quite put a face to it. You certainly haven’t shot anything with him before. 
The director, Oikawa, sighs. “Iwa-chan had some bad sushi last night, he’s been puking all morning.”
You can’t help the slight pout that works its way onto your lips. While it’s perhaps not wholly professional to have preferred co-stars in your line of work, Iwaizumi’s one of your favorite scene partners by far. 
As if reading your mind, Oikawa adds, “I know you love working that poor man into the palm of your hand.”
So you have a bit of a penchant for letting your bratty side come out in your roles. And with someone like Iwaizumi, whose brusque off-screen attitude collapses like a deck of cards the moment you offer him doe eyes and pouty lips for the cameras, it makes for a dynamic that you’ve become known for in your films. 
Which is why you nearly stumble when he adds, “But I’ll warn you that Mattsun is…a bit different.”
You raise a brow. “How so?”
Appearing from seemingly out of nowhere, his assistant, Hanamaki, peers from around his shoulder with several clipboards clutched in his hands, along with a tray of coffees. Eyes sparkling with something that borders on mischief, he grins, “Mattsun? Ahh…you’ll see.”
“Hey.”
A deep voice startles you from your thoughts, and you nearly drop your phone in the process. Unfortunately, you do actually lose your grip on the device when you suddenly find yourself face-to-face with what might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen.
(And you’ve worked with Kuroo fucking Tetsurou, so that’s saying something.)
He’s tall, very tall, with black hair that has just enough product in it to style his waves while still looking inexplicably soft. His eyes are a deep, rich shade of brown, the playful amusement in them mirroring the slight upward curve of his lips. And while you’re not normally one to outright ogle when you’re working, as he bends down to pick up your phone, you can’t help but let your eyes briefly stray over the tattoos on his chest, the ink exposed by the several rogue buttons left forgotten at the top end of his black shirt. As he hands it to you, you inadvertently catch a glance at several more winding lines that make their way from beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his button down, crawling up his forearms. 
It’s not often that you find yourself speechless, and yet—
“Thank…you?” 
You haven’t the slightest fucking clue why you phrased it as a question.
He chuckles, and you pointedly try to ignore the way the low, rough sound goes right to your gut. Casually leaning against the brick wall beside you, he pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his well-fitting black slacks. 
“Do you mind if I smoke?” he asks.
You blink at him. “We’re outside, I think you can do whatever you want.”
He grins, offering you a lopsided smile that makes your breath catch in your throat for some reason. “I’m asking because we start filming in fifteen.”
Oh.
“Mattsun?” you inquire, trying to hide your surprise.
“Matsukawa Issei.” He sticks out a hand to shake yours. “I’ve seen some of your movies. I’m looking forward to working with you.”
There’s something about the way he says it, something in his tone that nestles its way down the back of your throat, brushing against the base of your spine before unfurling deep in your abdomen. 
It’s eighty degrees outside.
And you shiver.
Though you don’t entirely understand why.
“Alright, from the top, people! The viewing is in full swing, and the granddaughter of the deceased has just cornered the funeral director in a coat closet,” Hanamaki calls out. 
You’ve always found it easy to cry on-camera.
“It’s so hard being out there,” you hiccup, palms pressing into Matsukawa’s black button down. 
He pats you on the shoulder, a bit awkwardly, as the funeral director who was just unceremoniously dragged into a closet is meant to do. 
“It’s overwhelming seeing my family…” You rest your head against his chest, arms snaking around his stiff frame. “And my boyfriend was supposed to come with me…but then I found out he was cheating on me yesterday…”
Another fake sob.
“Maybe I should get someone for you…” Matsukawa says, carefully trying to pry you off of him.
Tears roll down your cheeks, and you let your eyes go a little big, lips falling into a pout that would have someone like Iwaizumi dry humping you in seconds as you whine, “I’m just so lonely.”
You’ve been doing this long enough to know exactly how your desperate, pleading face looks right now on-camera, lit with soft spotlight-like light overhead. 
You lean your lower half into him, hips brushing together.
Now, he should offer you a sharp intake of breath in return, a man torn between his duty and the traitorous arousal coursing through him. He should take a step back as you press into him further, eyes going a little wide as you run a hand over the gratuitously low neckline of your dress—
Despite the fact that Oikawa had taken you aside to warn you that Mattsun has a tendency to improvise, your reaction is still wholly authentic when he flips the script on you entirely.
Between one breath and the next, you find your back pressed against the wall behind you, Matsukawa’s palm laid flat beside your head as he leans in, lips curled into a smirk.
“So you thought you’d pull me in here,” he murmurs, one long, slender finger hooking itself in the strap of your dress. “And what? Suck my dick?”
You’d reassured Oikawa several times before you were ushered out of the makeup chair that you were fine with improvisation. In fact, given how bland the scripts had been for some of your more recent films, you welcomed the challenge.
But when you go to respond to Matsukawa, you find that all you can do is wordlessly part your lips.
“I—”
He tilts his head to the side, a rogue curl falling across his eyebrow, his eyes searching yours for a moment until he seems to have found whatever it is that he’s looking for.
“Or maybe you’re just bored. Maybe you thought you’d come in here and show me your pretty tits. Then you’d sit back down out there in one of those chairs and giggle to yourself knowing I’m too fucking hard to come back out.”
Well, yes. That’s what the script calls for. 
He cups your chin. “But I have a better idea.”
Despite the fact that you’ve never worked with him, it’s clearly a testament to Oikawa’s trust in Mattsun, because he’s yet to call cut. The cameras continue to roll. 
“If that’s okay with you,” he adds in a quiet murmur, and you instinctively know that he’s asking you, not your character. 
Well, fuck it. Fine.
“Okay,” you nod, adding in another sniffle for good measure.
“Good girl,” he rasps, and fuck if you aren’t half tempted to go off-script yourself, drop to your knees, and add a blowjob scene for good measure.
Before you can say anything else, your body spins, and Matsukawa presses both of your hands against the wall that you’re now facing, his chest flush with your back. He brings his hips to your ass, and you have to bite your bottom lip as your eyes go wide at the feeling of just how large his cock is. 
You squeeze your thighs together, feeling a little dizzy at the thought of him fucking you with—
Why are you thinking about that right now? How the fuck is he affecting you this much?
“Normally,” he exhales, breath hot against the shell of your ear, “I send brats home when they’re being disruptive to the service.”
He drags his mouth down the side of your neck and continues against the soft curve where your shoulder begins, “But you’ve caught my attention.”
In what may very well be the most amateur reaction you’ve had to a co-star in years, you find your heart thudding in your chest over what certainly was not meant to be a double entendre. 
“S-someone’s going to notice I’ve been gone for too long,” you whimper, finally regaining your footing with an improvised line of your own.
Matsukawa chuckles, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the nape of your neck as he rucks up the skirt of your dress and runs two curled knuckles over your clothed cunt. 
“Maybe you should have behaved in the first place, then.”
For a scene like this, shot in a tight space with dim lighting, Matsukawa could get away with just slipping a large hand into your panties while you put on a show and act like he’s fingering you. It’s not like the cameras are set up for a close up of his long digits sliding their way into your cunt.
But Matsukawa must be one of those actors who likes to draw out authentic reactions, because his chest rumbles softly in amusement at the surprised, real moan that tumbles from your lips when he slides his fingers through your slick folds. Warm embarrassment prickles down your spine when you realize how soaked your panties are.
Matsukawa, of course, notices as well. 
“Don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl get this wet while she’s crying,” he observes, voice even.
You push out a few more tears, putting back on the wobbly voice of a grieving granddaughter. “You’ve just been so nice to me today.”
Matsukawa’s lips graze your ear again, and he slips two fingers into your sopping wet pussy as he whispers, “I’m not nice, sweetheart.”
The sound that heaves from your chest as he nips at your earlobe and plunges in knuckle-deep is so embarrassingly desperate, you know that your soul is going to leave your body when you inevitably have to watch the playback of this scene at some point. But for now, all you can do is curl your fingers against the peeling wallpaper inside of the closet as you beg your legs not to give out beneath you while you rock into his touch.
You don’t even realize how loud you’ve started moaning until Matsukawa claps a hand over your mouth.
“It’s like you want to get caught,” he chastises.
And then suddenly, without warning, the pleasure that’s rapidly building up inside of you is snuffed out like a match as he takes his hand away. 
“What—” you turn to him, dazed, not quite acting anymore. 
His eyes glimmer as he lifts the two fingers coated in your sticky arousal and places them in his mouth, licking them clean. 
Did he just fucking edge—
“Maybe now you’ll behave.”
He goes to leave the closet before you, but not before casting a look back in your direction. The cameras aren’t on his face from this angle, so the smirk that he gives is for you and you alone. 
You’re a professional.
You’ve shot plenty of scenes in plenty of films that have been purposefully sexually frustrating.
You’ve even gone entire productions without actually coming.
But this?
This is fucking torture.
There are several filler scenes that follow the fuckery in the closet, ones with the rest of the grieving family where the most you’re meant to do is have a few subtle, flirtatious interactions with the funeral director.
Which would be fine, truly, in any other situation.
But you’re so pent up right now, you’re on the verge of really lighting up Oikawa’s whole script and just adding a masturbation scene right here on this stupid piano bench. He’s written more ridiculous scenes himself, for fuck’s sake. 
And the problem is that Matsukawa seems very much aware of exactly what he’s doing to you, his stupidly handsome expression turning almost teasing every time you lock eyes with him. 
“Not used to not getting your way, princess?” a deep, rough voice startles you, and the piano keys let out a grating sound as your hand twitches. 
You look up to find Matsukawa looming over you, and—did he fucking unbutton his shirt even more?
He catches you staring at the tattoo on his chest, and he grins, curling a finger under your chin and tilting your head to meet his eyes instead. “I’ll let you look if you behave.”
Your toes curl painfully tight.
The feeling of relief that courses through you when you walk onto the set for the final scene is all encompassing. If nothing else, regardless of what happens, you’re now this much closer to going home and stuffing a vibrator between your legs. 
You’re splayed out on the large leather couch in the funeral director’s office when Matsukawa walks in. His eyes widen (as they’re scripted to) when he sees your cunt on full display, two fingers already stuffed inside. 
It feels so good, you want to sob.
Now as per Oikawa’s story, he’s supposed to start palming himself through his pants as he watches you. Then you’ll climb into his lap and tell him how badly you’ve been waiting all day for him to fuck you. He’ll try to tell you it’s not a good idea, but then he’ll eventually give in when you start whining and grinding on his erection.
Matsukawa’s clearly not done improvising today, though, because instead, he walks up beside you and says, “Stop.”
Though you’re not quite sure where he’s going with this, you roll with it, and the pout that leaves your face isn’t difficult to make—given that you’re actually frustrated that he interrupted your pleasure once again.
He huffs in amusement, running his tongue along his lower lip before he leans down and murmurs in a low tone, “That’s not going to work on me, pretty girl.”
When he straightens back up, he speaks more clearly as he adds, “Since you decided to be such a nuisance today, you’ll come when I say you can.”
“You can’t stop me,” you retort instantly.
He bites his lip, smiling. “Then I won’t fuck you.”
Your empty cunt spasms around nothing.
Rather than having you climb into his lap, Matsukawa ends up on top of you, fingers deftly tugging down the straps of your dress to let your tits spill out. His mouth is searing hot when he begins to mouth at them, teeth grazing your nipples, tongue lapping at your supple, sensitive skin.
You know somewhere off-camera, Oikawa is gleefully eating up the absolutely unhinged moans that are tumbling from your lips.
Then, Matsukawa makes his way down your body, wasting no time in rucking up your dress past your hips as he slides down your panties—he holds your gaze all the while, pressing a kiss to your ankle when he finally slips them off. The black lace disappears in the pocket of his slacks.
With a camera now repositioned for a close-up shot, you know that he’s going to go all-out with his mouth between your legs. But you’re still not prepared for the full-body shiver that runs through you, the way your spine arches up off of the cushion when he begins to lap at your cunt with fervor. You unconsciously bury your fingers in your hair as he stuffs his tongue into your aching, wet hole, tears of pleasure streaming down your face as you desperately rock your hips into his plush, saliva-soaked touch.
And then he stops.
You cry out in protest, in frustration.
“Not yet,” he tells you, kissing your inner thigh, your hip bone, your belly button, before he eventually reaches your neck.
His position finds one of his legs slotted between your own, and though it’s  purely for selfish reasons rather than aesthetic ones, you start dry humping his thigh. A fresh wave of pleasure rocks through you, heightened by the thought of the sticky, damp mess you’re leaving behind on his pants.
He clamps his fingers down on your right hip, holding you still.
“Cute,” he mutters in your ear, so only you can hear him. “Does that move normally work on Iwaizumi?”
With his other hand he cups one of your breasts, dragging the pad of his thumb over your peaked nipple. 
“I guess that shouldn’t surprise me,” he continues. “He does tend to roll right over for brats, considering he’s fucking Oikawa.”
You choke. 
He readjusts, placing his knees on the outside of your legs, hand releasing your hip to stroke your throbbing, swollen clit at a maddeningly slow pace. Abandoning your breast, he cups the side of your face, thumb tugging down your bottom lip.
“I think I’m letting you off too easy right now,” he says quietly. “But this scene is supposed to cut in ten minutes, so we’d better give them a podium finish.”
You’ve been doing this for years.
You’ve had a lot of sex.
But the moment that Matsukawa’s fat cock bottoms out inside of your tight, dripping cunt, as he lifts up your left thigh to wrap it around his waist to fuck you even deeper, as he pins your wrists above your head and finally brings his lips crashing down onto yours—
—it’s never been like this. 
Matsukawa kisses you hard, and he fucks you even harder, the couch creaking in protest with each rough snap of his hips. The room is filled with the sounds of slapping flesh and the lewd, filthy squelch of your cunt. Arousal drips from your folds, coating the leather surface of the cushions and sliding down your ass. You moan, voice breaking into a sob as your cunt grips his thick cock while he relentlessly stuffs it back inside of you. 
At one point, he releases your hands, fingers cupping the back of your head as he licks his way into your mouth. You card your fingers through his hair, the locks just as soft as you’d imagined, and you tug. Matsukawa groans, and it dissolves into a chuckle as you pull even harder. His lust-blown pupils find yours as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites down.
You whine, and he grins, kissing the pain away as he continues to pump his cock into your tight, sopping wet channel. 
And because your hands are now free, you take advantage of the opportunity to take off his shirt. In your eagerness, you end up popping off half of the remaining buttons, and he laughs under his breath, helping you the rest of the way before tossing it to the floor. 
You’re certain that he feels the way your cunt clenches as you drink in the full sight of the colorful tattoos that adorn his chest and arms. 
“Mattsun,” you accidentally breathe out.
Whatever, they can fucking edit that out with an ADR moan. 
His eyes flash, and he brushes his lips against yours and murmurs, “Issei.”
You blink at him, chest heaving, and before you can think better of it, you thread your fingers into the hair at the back of his head and pull his ear to your mouth.
“Issei.”
Matsukawa groans. He slams his cock so deep inside of you, stars prickle at the backs of your eyes. The coil of pleasure deep in your gut twists and trembles, your muscles tensing further with each and every stroke. 
“Come for me,” Matsukawa says, staring down at your fucked out, cock drunk face. 
He doesn’t look any better.
A stubborn part of you almost wants to come up with some pointless retort, just for the sake of being a—
“Quit being a brat and come all over my cock.”
Pleasure explodes inside of you, white-hot and searing through your veins from head to toe. Your cunt spasms, your body shakes, and Matsukawa’s mouth crashes back into yours as he kisses you hard and swallows down your breathless moans. 
When you come down from your climax, Matsukawa’s cock is still heavy and thick, lodged in the grip of your slick hole. And because you just can’t help yourself, you turn your head to the side, where one of his hands sits flat against the cushion. You take his pointer and middle fingers into your mouth, tongue swirling around the digits as you make eye contact with him while you suck on them. 
Matsukawa’s lips part.
You abandon his hand after a moment, arching up to bring your lips to his ear once more to whisper only to him, “Aren’t you going to fill me up, Issei?”
It’s fruitless to try and hide the second, toe-curling orgasm that Matsukawa drags out of you solely from the feeling of his fat cock pulsing against your slick walls, filling your cunt to the brim with thick, hot ropes of cum that seem to never end. 
It’s quiet on the set for a few moments after the two of you come apart, cum dripping all over the couch as it slides off of Matsukawa’s cock and drips out of your pussy in thick, sticky globs. 
Hanamaki offers both of you robes, and Oikawa hurries over, eyes shining with excitement as he says, “Please tell me you’ll work together again, I have the perfect script coming up.”
Matsukawa cocks his head to the side as he looks at you with a half-smile, waiting. 
It’s up to you.
You turn to Oikawa and nod.
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elllisaaa · 1 year ago
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no nut november - kim seungmin (7th to lose)
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-> pairing : seungmin x fem!reader
-> words count : 3.2k
-> genre : smut, etablished relation
-> warnings : switch!seungmin, begging, dirty talk, praising, hair pulling, unprotected sex, blowjob, handjob, use of 'good boy' and 'slut', bondage, overstimulation + the way i'm depicting seungmin does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction
-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.
-> masterlist | skz masterlist | no nut november
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Seungmin was not someone to give up easily, and you knew that when you got together. However, it was one of the things you liked the most about him. Well, of course sometimes he was so stubborn that you wanted to rub the evidence of him being wrong in his face, but most of the time, you were happy that your boyfriend was able to do just what he said. 
But this time, Seungmin might have fucked up. Okay, he wanted to prove to the guys that he was the best. Okay, he was competitive and wanted to win. But was it really worth it when he couldn’t even touch you ? He had made it clear to you that his goal was to win the no nut november bet he made with the rest of the members. You complained a bit at first, but it was also challenging for you, so you agreed. 
You did nothing, really nothing to try and make him lose. You had been reasonable, forcing you to keep your hands for yourself even if you wanted to let them wander around his body when he was pecking your lips as he came home. But for it to be equal, you forbade him to touch you for the month too. Would be too tempting, as you said yourself. And he agreed at first. He wanted to win, and he was ready to do everything for that. 
Time went by, and if the first two weeks were pretty easy to handle, within the end of the third, Seungmin became unbearable. He even ended up sleeping on the couch to avoid waking up with a boner because you couldn’t stay still in your sleep - and because all he wanted was to fuck with you in the early hours of the morning everytime he breathed in your smell. 
It’s been almost a month, only two days left in November. However, Seungmin was on the edge of giving up. It was not even something you did, on the contrary, you have been so respectful and pliant to all of his wishes. It was just him and his corrupted mind that could only think of you, all day long. It was becoming insufferable and exhausting resisting his desire for you. 
He wanted to wait for you tonight, knowing you would come back home very late due to work. But he was so tired that he fell asleep before he even finished one episode of the series he put on the television. It’s only when he heard the door closing that he woke up slightly, lifting himself off the couch while rubbing his eyes to make the sleepiness go away. He heard you hanging in your coat and getting your shoes off before heading to the living room.
“- What are you doing awake baby ?
- Mh… Was waiting for you, wanted to sleep next to you.”
You dropped your purse on the table between the couch and the television, before reaching for your boyfriend’s cheeks, rubbing your thumbs on them as he pulled you in closer, circling your waist with his arms. He nuzzled his face against your stomach, sighing in relief when you stroked his hair gently. 
“- Rough day ? 
- Exhausting…”
You leaned forward, kissing the top of his head multiple times before you tried to escape. But Seungmin didn’t seem to want to let you go, gripping on your waist to keep you close from him and making you giggle. 
“- I’m just going to take a quick shower baby, then you’ll get all the cuddles you want.
- Can I come with you ?”
He looked up to you, his eyes now glistening with something a lot more thrilling than sleep. You knew what he was thinking about. But you were only a few days apart from winning the bet, you were almost there. 
“- I want to, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.
- Why ?
- Please Seungmin, you know really well what I’m talking about. You made me promise to keep my mind clear when you couldn’t. It’s what I’m trying to do just now.”
He pouted for some seconds, before standing up and finally wrapping you in his embrace, preventing you from running away to hide in the bathroom. 
“- But I want you. Don’t you want me too ?”
You raised your head until your eyes met, biting down on your lips as soon as you saw him licking his own. You wanted him too, but all these efforts to keep your hands to yourself for a whole month would be thrown away too easily if you let him win just like that. You smirked to yourself when you put your hands around his neck, tilting your head to the side. 
“- Hm… I don’t know, maybe you should give me something to test the water, I can’t remember what it feels like.”
Seungmin mumbled some words sounding like “gonna make you remember forever” before he leaned down and kissed you passionately. And you responded with just as much desire as him. You were actually craving this for weeks, you would have been dumb to keep your little game on. Your fingers ran through his hair, pulling on it lightly and making him grunt. You took advantage of his opened mouth to play with his tongue, moaning at the contact you had missed too much. 
“- Fuck… I missed this…”
He groaned when you talked and stopped kissing him. He missed this too. Very much. And now that he had got a taste again, he didn't let you go. So he started to push you towards the bathroom while capturing your lips again, knowing that you needed your shower after work. Seungmin lifted you to sit you up on the counter, not caring about your clothes getting wet from the water that was still on it. He let go of you only to open the water in the shower for it to warm up. 
You didn’t waste more time and started stripping off your clothes, throwing them away as Seungmin watched your skin being exposed to his lustful gaze little by little, getting out of his sweatpants and underwear as quickly as possible. He wanted to be inside you. He needed to be inside you. Your panty had hardly hit the floor when Seungmin made his way to you again, spreading your legs wide and standing between them. He could have moaned at the sight of your pussy dripping, just waiting for him to finally take what was his. 
“- Fuck ! You’re so wet love… I missed your pretty pussy so much…”
His fingers headed directly to your clit, circling it like he knew you liked it. A whine fell from your lips, having missed his touch just as much as he missed touching you. 
“- Min… Min wait !”
His eyes detached from your glistening slit, his thumb pressing lightly against your entrance and making you moan. He already seemed lost, already seemed too far to care about anything else than you. 
“- I want you so bad but the bet ? Thought you really wanted to-”
The end of your sentence was muffled by his lips crashing on yours, and another moan escaped from you as he pushed a finger past your folds. You gripped his shoulders tightly, wanting to feel his skin against yours over and over. A month was definitely too much, and you will never make this mistake again. Your reflections were cut off by Seungmin’s lips sliding from your mouth to your jaw, and then your neck. You tilted your head to the side, humming in satisfaction as he sucked on your sensitive skin. 
“- I don’t give a fuck about the bet, I just need you.”
It was rare for Seungmin to express his desire so clearly to you. Even though you’ve been together for two years, he was still a little embarrassed to let you know what was going through his mind in this kind of moment. And every time he did, you wouldn't miss the opportunity of teasing him gently, but endlessly. It was certainly your favourite thing about him. He wanted to have the upper hand all the time, but you knew how to make him surrender. You loved it when he did. 
“- I want you so bad y/n…
- Beg for it then.”
His head snapped up from your neck on which some marks had already started to appear. His big puppy eyes almost made you give up, but you liked to see him cry for you even more. 
“- Seriously ? 
- Did you think you could not touch me for a whole month because of a stupid bet, just to give up one day before the end and not get punished ? Then you don't know me so well baby."
Seungmin remained speechless as you pushed him away just enough to get off of the counter. You were still wearing your underwear, and you did nothing to try to get them off before stepping inside the shower, relaxing under the hot water. And Seungmin stayed there, only capable of admiring every curve of your body as droplets ran down your skin. 
“- You’re really going to play it like that ?
- Yes. Should’ve thought about it before making this stupid bet. Now come here.”
He huffed and tried to seem angry but his hard dick was a clear reminder that he was not immune to the affect your behavior had on him. He liked it when you listened to him straight away. But he also liked it so much when you were ordering him around as if you owned him. And in a way, you owned him. You owned his heart, and you owned his body. 
“- So ? You’re gonna stay there or come here and prove to me you deserve a reward ?”
Seungmin was fast to join you in the shower, his hands and lips all over you, tracing your skin as if you were an artwork, a goddess. He willingly waited for your permission before unclasping your bra, going right for your nipples to suck on them as if he was a man starved. You both moaned at the feeling, having missed each other so much. 
“- You’re so good for me Min… But you need to let me wash myself first. 
- You’re annoying…
- Yeah, but you love me. And you’re going to stroke your cock for me, but you can’t cum. Okay ?”
Seungmin stepped back a little, a pout on his lips. But he didn’t get to go too far before you grabbed his hair, pulling his head back as he tried to contain a moan. 
“- I didn’t hear you babe. Have you understood ? 
- Yes…”
His voice was shaky, but at this point, he didn’t even try to hide it. He just wanted to feel your touch, and he knew that the only way was to listen to you and do what you said to him. He leaned against the wall, his cock in his hand while you were washing your body and hair. You had to admit it : Seungmin was looking incredibly hot, and all you wanted to do was to get down on your knees and choke on his dick. But he needed to suffer a little more, and you needed to hear him beg you to do something. 
And you did something. You sucked his dick, dropping to your knees and taking him in your mouth as soon as you finished your shower. He was so sensitive, he almost came just seeing you sucking him, but if he did, you would have never let him touch you. And he needed it. So he let you do your thing. Let you deepthroat him, stroke him, tie him to the bed, making him moan and whine so much his throat was dry. 
“- Y/n… Stop that…. F-Fuck ! I can’t take it anymore !”
Your grin was eating your face as you didn’t listen to Seunmgin, your hand still wrapped around his cock and not letting go until he begged you. Tears were filling his now glossy eyes, his cheeks were red, sweat covering his whole body. He was asking you to stop, but he was thrusting in your hand in hope of getting more and more. And every time he did that, you would stop moving and let him whine and whimper all he wanted. 
“- I need you baby…”
It was a good start, but not enough. You needed to hear more, you needed to hear more of his moans and whines of your name. 
“- If you need me so much, you know what to say love.”
You smiled again, even if Seungmin had closed his eyes for several minutes. You stopped stroking his cock, and he didn’t even get to whine before you licked it and took him in your mouth again. With his hands tied to the headboard, he could only moan and close his eyes, gripping the handcuffs and trying not to cum as you started to bob your head on his length. 
Seungmin wanted to hold on a little longer, to push you so much that you would give up. But he was so sensitive right now, all he wanted was to be buried deep inside of you, he needed that. His breath hitched in his throat as you licked his tip once again before sucking on his cock. 
“- F-Fuck ! Please, please… Please y/n fuck me… Please ! I can’t take it anymore, I need you please…”
You smiled to yourself as you watched your boyfriend struggle to talk as he was interrupted every now and then by whimpers and whines. He was so beautiful, laying in your bed with tears streaming down his face and neverending pleas escaping his lips. 
“- That’s it baby, finally using the right words.
- Please baby… Please…”
You bite your lips as you straddle his hips, taking his face in your hands and getting him to look at you. You wiped his tears away with your thumbs, smiling at him as you lowered yourself on his cock. You were so wet that the sound of his dick stretching you out resonated in the room as loud as both your moans. 
“- Y/n… I-I’m gonna cum…
- Let go Min, fill me up.”
It only took him a couple of thrust in your cunt to shoot his load, moaning in a high pitched voice as he did, missing the way you looked at his blissful face in adoration. As Seungmin was trying to get back, he felt your fingers running through his hair, and he also felt that you started to ride him, making him shiver because he was still so sensitive. But at the same time, all he wanted was to ruin you like you had ruined him. 
“- Feeling better baby ?”
Your cocky smile was whipped off your face as soon as Seungmin thrusted his hips up, meeting yours and making you moan. 
“- Would feel better if I was free.
- You’ve been a good boy, so I guess I can untie you, hm ?”
Seungmin's eyes followed every one of your moves as you got up - holding back a sigh when he lost the feeling of your hot pussy around him - to get the keys and open the handcuffs. As soon as his wrists were free, he threw you on the mattress, making you gasp. A gasp that was quickly replaced by his name as he filled you up to the brim again.
“- That’s it pretty, scream my name again.”
You couldn’t have formed a coherent sentence even if you wanted to. Your nails were digging in the skin of his back as Seungmin was pounding into you roughly, losing himself in the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him. It was too much for his sensitive cock, but at the same time all he wanted was more. More of your moans, more of your pussy, more of your skin, more of you. 
“- Aah ! Min ! Min, I need more please !”
A low grunt escaped his mouth as he stood up on his knees, pushing your legs flush against your chest and giving him an heavenly sight of your glistening pussy, full of his cock and cum. Seungmin picked up his pace, making you grasp the sheets beside your head to try and ground yourself in reality. 
 “- You need more ? Then beg for it.
- Please, please, please Min…”
Seungmin hummed when he squeezed your thighs, guiding you to wrap them around his waist, the new position making you moan louder. He loved when you were taking control of him like you did, but the best part was when he got you begging for his cock. 
“- Come on baby, I know you can do way better than that.
- I want you to fill me up with your cum, need you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow… Please Seungmin, please baby… I want you to make me cum on that big cock… Please…
- That’s a lot better…”
With that being said, he sped up the rhythm of his thrusts, making you see stars each time he was hitting that sensitive spot inside of you. Seungmin knew your body like the back of his hand by now, knowing exactly what he needed to do to make you feel good, what he needed to do to make you cum. But he didn’t, simply keeping his pace and fucking your roughly, and it was not enough. He knew what could bring you to the edge, he was just teasing you, making you whimper. 
“- Now what’s that baby ? Is it not enough for you ?
- Yes ! Yes, I need more please…
- So desperate for my cock, that’s cute.”
You wanted to kiss away his smirk, make him remember how he was crying under your touch just a few minutes ago, make him remember how pathetic he looked, begging for you to let him cum - oh, how the tables have turned. But soon enough, his fingers finally found your clit, circling around it and applying just the right amount of pressure to make you cry out his name. Tears spilled out of your closed eyes as your orgasm washed over you, clenching so hard on Seungmin’s dick that he couldn’t move anymore, cumming deep inside of your cunt from the lustful vision of your ruined body. Some high-pitched moans escaped his mouth as he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, savouring his much needed relief. 
“- I’m never doing this again.”
You chuckled lightly at his remark, trying to sit up and go wash yourself even if you were spent and just wanted to sleep at the moment. But Seunmgin didn’t move the slightest bit, on the contrary, he wrapped his arms around your waist, still buried inside of you. 
“- Can we stay like this a little longer ? I missed you y/n…”
You smiled to yourself as you let one of your hands plunge in his messy hair, the fingers of the other one tracing random patterns on his back. Seungmin rarely expressed his feelings so clearly to you, and that didn’t bother you at all - you understood very well that it was something he was not so comfortable with. But when he did share his thoughts with you, it made you melt on the spot. 
“- I missed you too Min.” 
Maybe it wasn’t the traditional way, but it was his way of saying he loved you, and you were more than happy to reciprocate his confession. 
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-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.
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drabblesandsnippets · 1 month ago
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Whatever You Need
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female reader
Summary: (3.3k) Bucky comforts you during a rough time. 
Background: Reworking of this snippet. It’s been a rough few weeks (for a lot of folks, I’m sure) and I couldn’t stop thinking about this one. To everyone who struggles with their mental health, please be kind to yourself. 
Warnings: 18+ Only. Mention of insomnia, depression, anxiety. Angst. Fluff. Attempt at a bit of humor? Soft and sweet Bucky. Established relationship. Pet names (sweetheart, doll). Non-sexual nudity & touching. Kissing. Cuddling. Brief mention of/alluding to past sexual intimacy.
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You sit by the open window, breathing in the heavy scent of the steady rain, listening to the thunder getting closer. You should be in bed, with Bucky’s arms wrapped around you, snuggling you back to sleep. But, you can’t seem to make yourself go.
It’s been weeks of this. Insomnia. Depression. Anxiety. Every day, things feel just a bit more hopeless, like you’re barely treading water, surely to go under at any moment. Rationally, you know this will pass, as it always does, you just have to wait it out and hope you don’t drown in the meantime. 
The closer the storm gets, the more anxious you feel. As if the energy of the weather is triggering your fight or flight response. You push open the window a bit more and scoot closer to the screen, imagining yourself out in the storm, getting soaked to the bone. At least then you’d have a reason for the way your body is currently shaking.
“Sweetheart,” the tenderness of Bucky’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you glance over to find him watching you from the doorway. You have no idea how long he’s been standing there, wearing just his underwear and an obvious look of concern on his face.
You let out a heavy sigh and bite back the unnecessary apology, turning your attention back to the storm, a wave of guilt making your stomach flip. Bucky’s done everything he can to be patient with you, and never once has he made you feel like you’re a burden, but it’s taken an obvious toll on your relationship. The way you’ve kept him at arm’s length, scared to let him see how much you’re really struggling.
Your racing thoughts are interrupted again when Bucky comes closer, now barely a foot from the window nook where you sit. “I just wanna take care of you.” You turn your head to watch him slowly crouch down next to the seat, never once taking his eyes off you, a soft smile on his face. “It’s okay if you don’t want me to.”
You immediately shake your head, needing him to understand it’s not about that. Your mouth opens, the words on the tip of your tongue, but nothing comes out. This is how it’s been for weeks. Words desperately trying to claw their way out, only to get stuck in your throat with no escape. 
The frustration easily builds, fresh tears pricking your eyes, and you look away again, letting out a shuddering breath. Bucky should just give up on you. Leave you to wallow in self-pity and loneliness. He never will though, no matter how much you think you might deserve it.
“It’s also okay if you do want me to,” he continues, his hand slowly reaching out towards you, the tips of his fingers ghosting over the blanket wrapped around you, waiting for permission to touch you. 
Bucky sees you, understands you in ways no one ever has. Your independence is your shield, something you’ve carefully cultivated. You’ve handled everything that life’s thrown at you on your own, and relying on someone else doesn’t come easy. It has absolutely nothing to do with him, but he can still be there for you, if you’ll let him. 
“It’s okay if you need me to take care of you.”
His gentle assurance breaks your resolve, the tears currently blurring your vision spilling over your lashes, and the only thing you can do is bury your face in your hands, trying to hide from him. Bucky’s not one to give up so easily, choosing to join you, taking a spot on the edge of the seat instead of breaking the physical distance, his hand now inches from your sock-covered foot.
“You don’t have to look at me,” he promises, letting the words process before he continues, “I just want you to listen, okay? Can you do that, please?” 
All you can manage is a slight nod as you try to stifle a sniffle, your breaths uneven, willing yourself to stop the fresh tears threatening to build. 
No matter how many times you’ve been down this road - both alone and together - it never seems to get easier. Especially when Bucky’s male ego tells him he’s supposed to fix this, that it’s his job to put you back together and all you have to do is let him.
It’s a ridiculous notion, one he does his best to ignore, choosing instead to tell you, “I know it’s scary to admit you’re not okay, especially when you’re still trying to figure out what’s happening inside your own head. So, I’m not expecting you to have the energy to talk about anything tonight, I just want you to know that whatever you need from me, you have it sweetheart, even if you’re never able to tell me what’s going on.”
You try to fight through the rush of emotions, his words bringing a fresh wave of tears, your body aching for his comfort. You’re so tired of being strong, of forcing yourself to power through, pretending it’s not as bad as it seems. Bucky’s your one safe place in this chaotic world and for a fleeting moment, you have the courage to bridge the gap, the tension in your shoulders easing just a bit as you let your hand drop towards him.
He takes it for what it is, catching your hand before it can fall to his thigh and brings your palm to his lips, placing a sweet kiss right in the center. At the feel of your pulse fluttering from his simple touch, Bucky’s smile grows and he’s encouraging you closer with a soft, “co’mere,” his metal hand sliding along the outside of your arm to help guide you.
Pulling you into his lap, your soft curves molding perfectly to the harder planes of his body, Bucky wraps you up in his warm embrace, cradling your head against his shoulder. Your tears come more freely now and for a while, you just sit there, listening to the steady heartbeat of the man you’re lucky to call yours, the sound a gentle reminder that you’re not alone, regardless of what your brain tries to convince you of sometimes.
It’s not until your breath begins to even out, your sniffles slowly subsiding, that Bucky softly breaks the silence to ask you, “How do ya feel about a bath, sweetheart?”
A soft noise of protest comes out muffled against his skin, your arms tightening around his torso, content to just stay here as long as he’ll let you. Still, you can’t help asking, “is this your way of saying I smell?” It hasn’t been that long since you forced yourself to shower.
Bucky’s laughter gently shakes your body, your own smile building in return and he wastes no time in nuzzling your hair, his head dipping to dramatically sniff along your jaw and neck. “Nope,” he says matter-of-factly, meeting your gaze with a grin before repeating the action along the other side, drawing an unmistakable laugh from you. “You smell just as good as you always do,” he promises with a tender kiss right below your ear. “But, a bath might make you feel a little better.”
There are a multitude of reasons to say no - the energy it takes just to get in, the stark contrast of the cool air after getting out, having to dry off every inch of your skin before you can even think about getting into bed, just to name a few. All it takes is one look at Bucky and you’re realizing none of them matter because he already knows. 
His assurance that you won’t have to lift a finger comes quick, reminding you that he’s here to take care of you, in whatever way you need. He’ll even carry you, if you’ll let him.
To both of your surprise, it doesn’t take much for you to agree and the moment you do, Bucky seeks permission to kiss you, showing his appreciation, murmuring words of adoration against your lips. He takes a moment to savor the intimate connection, silently thanking the universe for bringing you to him, for allowing him the privilege of loving you.
He drops you off in the bedroom, resecuring the blanket still wrapped around your body, convincing you to rest in bed while he draws a bath. Once he’s gone, you actually start to doze off, snuggled with Bucky’s pillow, the distant thrum of the bathtub filling a nice break from the near constant rush of thoughts trying to occupy your mind.
When he returns, the vision of you resting peacefully is almost enough for him to break his promise to wake you. He’d happily sit watch, keep an eye on you for the rest of the night to ensure your sleep went undisturbed.
It’s the last thing you’d want though. You’d wake disoriented, feeling constricted in your clothing, worse off than you were when you fell asleep. 
With a heavy sigh, Bucky shakes his head, a regretful smile crossing his face as he reaches out to stroke your cheek with the back of his fingers. “You ready?”
His voice is barely audible, your mind not comprehending his touch until his beard is tickling your nose, his lips brushing against your forehead. Your response comes in the form of a confused grunt, your face scrunched, hands reaching up to touch him.
“The bath’s ready,” he explains, his smile evident in his tone, giving you one last lingering kiss before pulling back. “Are you ready, or do ya wanna rest a bit longer?”
It’d be easy to just stay here, let Bucky undress you and put you under the covers, your body craving rest. It won’t last though. You’ll start to get restless, toss and turn in hopes of finding a better position, all the while your mind will refuse to quiet, growing more on edge until you’re forced out of bed yet again.
A bath isn’t a cure-all, and maybe it won’t really help, but you owe it to yourself to at least try. To let yourself be vulnerable, no matter how scary it feels. 
Bucky effortlessly carries you from bed into the dimly lit bathroom, the heater already keeping the room relatively warm, ready to be adjusted when it’s time to get out. After setting you on your feet next to the tub, he gives you another reassuring smile and starts to undress you, careful not to snag your shirt on your hair.
You have to close your eyes when he kneels to remove your sweatpants, your body fighting the urge to take over and do it yourself. It’s far from the first time Bucky’s undressed you - and it certainly won’t be the last - it’s just not usually under these circumstances. 
The lingering tension starts to fade when he looks up, his obvious love for you shining through even your most persistent insecurities. Once he’s freed you of the rest of your clothes, he helps you in, the oversized tub providing more than enough space for you to sink down, the water coming up to your chest.
Bucky takes his time, giving you a minute to adjust to the heat of the water while he gathers the necessary supplies, the bath pillow already secure behind your head. All you can do is watch him, your throat tight with emotion, tears starting to prick your eyes, the nagging voice in your head trying to convince you that you don’t deserve someone like him.
Biting back the urge to tell him what’s going through your mind, you blink back the tears, your eyes cast to the ceiling for a brief moment. He gives you more time than necessary, his focus on dipping the fresh washcloth in the water, then reaching for the body wash to pour a generous amount.
Seeing him preparing to bathe you makes the moment fully come into view and a soft, incredulous laugh leaves you, “are we really doing this?” You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so naked and exposed, despite all the sinful things you’ve let this man do to you.
Bucky’s grin does wonders for your anxiety, as does his soft assurance of, “not if you don’t think it’ll help.” He tilts his head, holding your gaze, ensuring you hear his next words, “But, if it’s because you think I don’t wanna do this, or I’m not gonna enjoy every single second of it? Doll, come on, this is me.” 
His words cause another exhale of a laugh and a blush spreads across your cheeks, Bucky’s smiling growing wider, his tongue peaking out to tease along his bottom lip. 
“I’m getting to take care of you, be near you, touch you. I live for this shit,” he laughs, his brows raised to drive home his point. “I’m obsessed with you, remember? I’d literally drink your bath water.”
You barely have time to react before he’s leaning forward, having every intention to prove it to you. Your wet hands reach out just in time to push against his head and shoulder before his face gets any closer to the water, a loud laugh spilling out of you, “What- Stop, Bucky, oh my god!”
His laughter joins yours and he allows you to turn his head at the last moment, taking the opportunity to close the distance to share a kiss, Bucky smiling against your lips. You can’t resist keeping your hands on him, the water dripping down his bare torso, but he doesn’t seem to mind, his own hand reaching out to cup your jaw.
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he promises, peppering kisses across your cheeks and forehead, ending with one on the tip of your nose. Once he’s sure your worries and insecurities are starting to fade, he reaches for the washcloth again, telling you, “Now, just relax and let me take care of my girl, okay?”
A playful roll of your eyes and a smile you don’t even try to hide as you tell him, “fine,” begrudgingly doing as requested. Bucky takes it in stride, his smile never faltering, happily reaching for your arm to start taking care of you in one of the few ways you’ve let him recently.
He can’t help but take advantage of the opportunity, taking his time to bathe you, massaging your muscles in the process, his movements smooth along your soap-slicked skin. By the time he’s given each limb equal attention, you’re putty in his hands and you make no objections when the washcloth dips under the water to wash your stomach and hips.
Your eyes remain closed for the most part, Bucky’s occasional glance telling him you’re enjoying this far more than you anticipated. He makes a mental note to convince you to make this a regular thing, not just when you’re going through a rough time. You deserve to be pampered every day, but he’ll settle for at least once a month.
Not missing how careful Bucky is as he moves higher, the washcloth not lingering on your breasts any longer than necessary, you finally open your eyes, blinking slowly up at him. He meets your gaze with a soft smile as he starts to wash your collarbone, the warm water calling you to sink lower, as if it might erase the clinging numbness that refuses to dissipate. 
The words tumble out of you before you can overthink them, your question catching Bucky off guard, his hand stilling on the edge of the tub. “What if I never get better?”
“Sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs with a slight shake of his head, his brow furrowing to  match the frown beginning to appear. Your mouth opens to respond, the words failing you before they can even form, wishing you could rewind time to prevent the worried look on his face.
He breaks the silence before you have to, offering you an empathetic smile as he asks, “Can I get in with you?” It’s the last thing you’re expecting as a response and it catches you off guard in such a way that your mind stops racing long enough to scoot forward, making room for him.
There’s no time to waste, Bucky quickly discarding his underwear in order to join you, the oversized tub giving him space to sit behind you, pulling you back against his chest. With his arms wrapped protectively around you, he kisses your shoulder, rubbing his beard along your skin in hopes to ground you, “This isn’t going to last forever. Eventually, something’s gonna shift and you’ll start to feel better.”
Bucky’s not wrong. What you’re experiencing right now, regardless of how long it’s lasted, won't be forever and things will go back to normal at some point. Right now isn’t what you’re referring to though. With a heavy breath, you pull your knees up, letting the air hit your skin, goosebumps threatening to spread. “But that never lasts either.”
He can hear the emotion in your voice, the tears starting to build again, and it makes his chest ache, wishing he could ease your pain. “Maybe not,” he agrees, keeping his tone gentle, “but that’s okay. It’s all part of being human, sweetheart. We have good days, and we have bad days, and no, I’m not keeping score.”
An exhale of a laugh leaves you at the same time a tear escapes your lashes, causing you to automatically wipe it away, your wet hand leaving several drops of water in its place. Bucky gives you the space to collect yourself, using the opportunity to grab the washcloth and bodywash again, determined to complete his mission of bathing you.
You welcome the distraction, leaning forward to give him better access, his fingers soon working out the tension in your back. Your delicate mental state leaves you vulnerable, Bucky’s touch sending you further down the rabbit hole of negative thoughts, the once receding emotions returning tenfold, leaving you crying.
“You deserve better than this.”
“Hey,” Bucky soothes, gathering you in his arms to pull you flush against his body, your weight welcome on his lap, your face pressed against his neck, tears mixing with the water. “There is no one out there better for me than you,” he promises. “You’re it for me. You and your gorgeous mind and insanely hot body, and yes - all your ‘issues’,” he grins, kissing your temple.
There’s nothing you can do except sigh, your breath shuddering out of you, your hand pressed against his chest, drawing comfort from the strong beat of his heart. What he’s saying is starting to break through, reminding you what it’s like when things don’t feel so heavy. How easy it is to be loved by him when you’re not so scared of being a burden.
“I just want you to be happy,” you manage to whisper, working past the emotions trying to overwhelm you again.
“Good,” Bucky’s quick to respond, his fingers on your chin tilting your face up to meet his warm gaze. “‘Cause that’s exactly how you make me feel.” He can’t help but shake his head at you, his smile growing, as if you don’t realize how ridiculous you’re being, “Every day you make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world. Nothing is ever going to change that. Got it?”
Another heavy breath, and a tear that Bucky casually wipes away, but this time it’s accompanied by a twitch of a smile, the waves of anxiety starting to recede. “Got it,” you whisper, meeting him halfway for a kiss, solidifying your devotion to each other, your promise to work as a team to get through whatever comes, without pushing the other too far out of your comfort zone.
It’ll take time, and it won’t be perfect, but at least you’ll have the rest of your lives to keep trying.
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Comments and reblogs very much appreciated!! 🩶
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teamatsumu · 1 year ago
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kinktober 2023 -> day 29
brat taming - kita shinsuke x reader
word count: 681
warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing, slight degradation, domination, kita being hella assertive
kinktober masterlist
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Kita Shinsuke had a code.
He lived his life a certain way. A strict routine, repetition, a schedule he adhered to. There was a reason he was so meticulous in everything he did. He held himself to a high standard, and he expected that his actions would reflect said standard.
He also held you to a standard, and when you decided that you wanted to be a brat, he was more than willing to put you in your place and remind you how things need to be.
“Help me understand,” he murmured, voice almost inaudible due to your loud pants and whimpers. “What was going on in your head? What were you planning to achieve?”
You struggled in his grip again, though it was in vain considering the iron hold Kita’s arm had around your waist. His body served as your wall, steady and unwavering, holding you against him, your poor legs flailing on either side of his waist, trying and failing to squirm away from the rough fingers plunging in and out of you. Tears ran down your cheeks, the stimulation bordering on painful, yet Kita didn’t relent.
Everything about this was deliberate, as expected from someone like Kita. All the lights were on, a cool breeze was blowing in from the open window, covering your naked body with goosebumps. Kita was fully clothed, of course on purpose, making sure you felt that slight twinge of humiliation, a payback for how he had felt in front of his friends because you had been teasing him all night, leaving him with a very noticeable boner.
“And ya still won’t apologize.” He continued talking. “I’m surprised. See, I was sure ya knew better, sweetheart. Was sure I had taught ya better. I don’t tolerate bad behavior.”
You only continued to twitch and jerk, focused solely on the thick, calloused fingers moving inside you, burying knuckle-deep only to pull out, scraping your walls as he did, digging back in and hitting your g-spot until you cried out. It repeated, over and over, and you knew it wouldn’t stop. Not until you surrendered to him, until you apologized and admitted you were wrong. Kita had no problem continuing this constant torture, balancing you on the very edge but not letting you go over. And you didn’t know how long you could hold on to your stubborn refusal to give in to him.
“S-Shin…” You choked out, head lolling on his shoulder, hands fisting in his no longer well-ironed button up shirt.
“Hm?”
But you bit your tongue, feeling your useless pride stop you from apologizing. Kita sighed.
“Brat.”
He pulled his fingers out, drawing his hand back only to bring it forward with full force until it landed on your pussy with a resounding smack. You yelped, whole body jerking but once again unable to move away. Two more spanks followed until you were screaming, and then Kita buried his fingers in you once more.
“Now,” he began. “Wanna try that again?”
You weeped into his shoulder, a wet spot forming on the cloth there. It didn’t matter though, since his pants were already embarrassingly soaked by your juices.
“I’m sorry.” You gave in, wanting so badly to cum that you couldn’t take it anymore.
“Say it again.”
“I’m sorry.” You spoke louder this time.
“Again.”
And you kept going, even as Kita’s fingers sped up and even as he pushed you to orgasm, your mouth blabbering over and over how sorry you were as you shook and released all over his hand, as you rubbed your naked chest against his and rode your high. Broken sobs of the word were still spilling from your lips as Kita laid you down, finally shedding his own clothes and nudging the tip of his cock against your wet, abused hole.
“What don’t I tolerate, sweetheart?” His lips brushed your ear, cock entering you inch by slow inch.
“B-bad behavior.” You managed to choke out, jaw dropping at the stretch his dick brought, despite being fingered into oblivion mere seconds ago. Kita hummed in approval.
“Good girl.”
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Taglist:
@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein
A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!
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boy-cow000 · 10 months ago
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Drained
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Spencer x Gn!Reader
Warnings: Mostly Fluff, Mention of a case, Spencer feeling rough
Summary: After a particularly long case Spencer happens to lock himself out of his apartment. In need of help, he stumbles into the home of the only non-bau friend he has left. However, he finds himself much more comfortable with you than he originally thought.
Word Count: about 890
A/N: Pretty short blurb because I’ve been dying to write again but I’ve been too lazy to rub my two brain cells together and produce something :,D btw IDK what season this is in so use your imagination
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Spencer couldn't be more thankful for his job. Knowing the lives he saved and the people he helped was enough to get him through most of the especially rough cases. However, this most recent one had been particularly troubling. The random small American town they had been flown to was not known for their technological advancements, to say the least, and the lack of documentation had made Garcia's job almost impossible. On top of that, the intrusive and misguided opinion of the head chief of police had completely skewed the case in the wrong direction. Needless to say, Spencer was rightfully exhausted, along with the rest of the members of the BAU.
After landing and leaving the jet, he told himself that all he had to do was head home so he could finally sleep. Truth be told, it wasn’t even that late; the plane had landed around 8:20 PM. Yet, sleep was the only thing on Spencer's mind after that 48-hour case.
It took him some time to get home, but at this point, nothing but the sweet relief of his bed mattered. Except, much to his dismay, he seemed to have a little trouble finding his keys. Unfortunately for him, that “little trouble” turned into a full-blown panic very quickly. Spencer tried to remember where he had put it. Mentally swatting away the thick fog laying over his mind, he let his head smack against his front door in defeat when he realized that his keys were left on the jet. Calculating his options, it became apparent there weren’t many. His coworkers were probably already sleeping, and it's not like Spencer had a history of having an extensive list of friends. Well, except you, that is. Spencer didn’t feel like paying upwards of 65 to 120 dollars for some locksmith to come in the middle of the night, so you were starting to seem like the best option. Knowing you didn’t live far away, he grabbed his things and started to text you. On the drive over, he began feeling a little nervous. He wondered if the reason you weren’t answering was because you were asleep and if he was going to bother you.
Upon arriving, he felt at ease seeing the lights in your apartment on. He fumbled with his bags but managed to get to your front door without dropping anything. He was so tired. Blinded by the light of the inside of your apartment, he resorted to a curt “hi” once you opened the door. You let him in a bit panicked; to be frank, you didn't know why he had suddenly asked you if you could crash. You were still happy to see him, however.
After explaining the situation, you let out a sigh, knowing nothing serious had happened. You told him to make himself at home while you figured out where your extra covers were. He took off his shoes and sat himself on your couch, awaiting further instruction.
When you came back, you saw Spencer, palming the socket of his eyes. Your heart stopped for a second, worry took over, and you wondered if maybe the case was weighing on him more than he’d like to admit. You rushed over.
“ Spence! Are you okay?” You laid the covers on the edge of the couch and rested a hand on Spencer's shoulder.
Spencer peeked into your eyes for what seemed like forever—a breathless moment between his answers. You felt your heart form a lump in your throat; your cheeks flushed, and you suddenly felt guilty. What if Spencer was actually doing terrible and you couldn’t help him because you were too busy wrestling with the effect he had on you? Eventually, you broke the intense eye contact, and Spencer sighed in return.
”I’m fine, really. It’s just… I was exhausted a minute ago, and now”
”Not so much.” You finished his sentence for him. He let out a light chuckle and bumped shoulders with you. He must’ve been delirious, because you couldn’t think of another reason why he would’ve been comfortable enough for all that physical contact. Your torso stiffened, and while still trying to calm yourself down, he let his head roll onto your shoulder and nudge itself into your neck. Spencer was going to kill you if he kept this up.
Spencer snaked his arms around you, entrapping you and making you fall back into the couch a little. You grabbed his opposite shoulder, hoping to lay him back, but his head bobbled a little lower, and it was clear he was no longer awake. Spencer kept snuggling, and it was making it increasingly harder to get yourself out of his grasp. An incoherent thank you left his lips before he fully fell asleep. So you sat there, absolutely surrounded by Spencer. Glaring at his slumbering state. Overtly aware of his faint sent, of his hair brushing against your face, of his slowed breath on your neck, of his hand grasping your waist, of him.
Your own exhaustion was catching up to you at an alarming pace. Despite your brain and dignity screaming at you not to fall asleep in his arms, your thoughts were starting to blur. Eventually, you fell asleep, caged in, breathing to the sound of his heartbeat. With that, tomorrow promised itself to be interesting.
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Text
𝑅𝒜𝐹𝐸 𝒞𝒜𝑀𝐸𝑅𝒪𝒩-𝒩𝒮𝐹𝒲 𝒜𝐿𝒫𝐻𝒜𝐵𝐸𝒯
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A - Aftercare Rafe isn’t naturally nurturing, so after sex, don’t expect a lot of softness. At best, he’ll bring you water or pull you into his chest before drifting off himself. If he really cares about you, though, he’ll surprise you by asking if you’re comfortable or finding out what kind of aftercare you like, especially if it lets him feel like he’s still got a hold on you.
B - Body Part Rafe’s all about curves. He’s obsessed with your chest and can lose himself with his face buried there. Hands on your hips or gripping your ass make him feel in control. He’s never subtle about what he likes, constantly touching and grabbing, and he’ll keep you bare or wearing next to nothing around him whenever he can.
C - Cum He has a thing for going all out, Rafe likes filling you, feeling your body take it all. He wants you to wear his cum with pride, especially if he’s given you an intense session. Seeing you dripping or tasting himself on you after he’s come is something he finds insanely hot, and he loves it even more when he sees the evidence left on your body.
D - Dirty Secret Surprisingly, Rafe was a bit inexperienced early on, relying more on his charm than actual skill. By the time he left high school, he made up for it by racking up experiences and learning what he was good at. He keeps a list of his past flings on his phone, but once he’s with you, he drops them all without a second thought, focusing on making you the only one.
E - Experience Rafe knows he leaves a mark on his partners, he has a reputation and lives up to it. Girls talk, and he’s perfected the art of being unforgettable. He doesn’t care what others think, but he makes sure that anyone he’s been with can’t deny he’s given them their best.
F - Favorite Position Missionary is a favorite because he loves seeing you completely surrendered under him, and it lets him go as deep as he wants. From time to time, he’ll flip you over for backshots or reverse cowgirl, but when he’s in control, he prefers positions where he can watch you come undone beneath him.
G - Goofy Rafe isn’t one for being soft or playful, but he’ll tease you with low comments and half smirks, edging you on until you’re blushing. His humor leans toward the cocky, and he can get borderline mean with it, but he knows how to switch back to sweet, making you crave his approval.
H - Hair He keeps himself trimmed, just enough to keep it looking good. When it comes to you, he has specific preferences and isn’t afraid to say so. He’ll even pay for you to get waxed to his liking and find reasons to run his hands over your skin, making sure it’s smooth exactly the way he likes it.
I - Intimacy Emotionally, Rafe is guarded, and letting people in takes time. He’ll put in minimal effort at first, maybe taking you out or showing a bit of softness in bed. When he’s really invested, he’ll put his walls down little by little, expressing feelings in small moments, like brushing your hair back or giving you a lingering kiss before he leaves.
J - Jack Off Before you, he rarely needed to get himself off, with plenty of people willing to satisfy him. Now, when you’re apart, he’s not shy about thinking of you. He’ll send you a teasing text, describing exactly what he’s doing or even sharing a video of him jerking off just to let you know he’s thinking about you.
K - Kink He’ll deny it, but Rafe has a major breeding kink. He loves the idea of marking you with every ounce of him, but he’s careful about birth control, kids aren’t on the table. Spanking, domination, and a little bit of roughness are also big for him, and he lives for the sound of you calling him “Daddy,” even if he’ll pretend he doesn’t care.
L - Location Rafe’s not picky about location. If the mood strikes, he’ll go for it, on the kitchen counter, the couch, the back seat of his car, or even a public restroom if you’re game. He finds the thrill exciting, knowing that no one else can have what he’s taking.
M - Motivation A short skirt, a revealing top, or even just a look can set him off. He loves seeing you in something daring that’s barely covering anything. If you want to guarantee a reaction, playfully irritate him, acting oblivious until he decides to take control and set you straight.
N - No Too much neediness and clinginess are quick turn offs. He’s also a stickler for cleanliness, Rafe has a thing for freshly showered skin and expects you to be just as particular. Anything he finds “too messy” is off limits, but he still likes the idea of a bit of tasteful mess with you.
O - Oral He’s fantastic at giving and knows it, but there’s something he adores about having you on your knees. He likes the power in watching you struggle to take him, eyes tearing up as you gasp. He’s probably saved a few videos of you doing it, too, for when he’s traveling or just in the mood to relive it.
P - Pace Fast and relentless is his go to. He likes to be rough, making you lose control under him. When you ask, he can be slow, but he’s naturally intense and prefers it hard, especially when he knows you crave it.
Q - Quickie He loves a quickie. There’s something exciting about doing it fast, especially in the morning before he leaves, when you’re still sleepy. It lets him satisfy both of you just enough to get through the day.
R - Risk Rafe’s got a bit of a daredevil streak and isn’t afraid to take things up a notch. He’ll push you to try new things, pulling out toys you might not expect. He’s careful with anything serious, but he enjoys pushing you to see what you’ll try with him, obviously with your approval.
S - Stamina Rafe can last, and he’s not quick to tire. He’s built up the ability to go hard for extended periods, and he’ll keep you busy for hours if he’s in the mood. His recovery time is long, so he makes the most of it while he’s at his peak.
T - Toys Toys are his thing, on you, not himself. He’ll edge you, tease you, or even set up punishments, loving the control it gives him. If he has an event to attend, he’ll put a remote controlled toy on you just to watch you try to keep your composure, thrilled by the power he holds.
U - Unfair Rafe’s a relentless tease and knows exactly how to push you to the limit. He’ll mock you to get his way, letting his words mess with your head until you’re practically begging. There’s nothing he loves more than watching you struggle, even if it means dragging things out.
V - Volume He’s loud, grunting, and moaning like he owns the space. Even when he’s supposed to keep it quiet, he won’t hold back. He’s unbothered by volume, getting off on knowing that people might hear him with you.
W - Wild Card Rafe loves buying you expensive lingerie, only to rip it off the second you put it on. After nearly getting kicked out of a changing room for getting handsy, he���s restricted to window shopping until he can make you show off at home.
X - X-Ray Rafe is well endowed, big enough to leave a lasting impression. Every time, he stretches you to the limit, always knowing exactly how to work you up for him, but he’s careful not to go too hard unless you’re ready for it.
Y - Yearning Rafe’s sex drive is high, and he rarely wants to wait. Even when he has work to do, he’d rather be with you, and he’ll get impatient fast if he doesn’t get to satisfy his urges.
Z - Zzz The second he’s satisfied, Rafe’s out. You’ll get a lazy arm around you, maybe even a kiss, but he’s usually fast asleep within minutes, with the barest amount of cuddling before he’s out cold.
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hxt1b · 11 months ago
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good girl's don't beg
-> geto x reader 
-> WC: 1.2k
-> CW: swearing, pwp, edging, protected sex, penetration, choking, some titty slapping, a bit of rough sex, some overstimulation, soft dom geto, sub reader. This is literally just sex my dudes. 
Masterlist
Requests Open 
Rules for requests | prompt list
A/N: The grammar may not be perfect but I tried my best. 
Thank you for reading this, that’s what I’ll start with. I’m not a stranger to writing, however this is my first jjk fic, and I also have not written for a couple months. I try to consistently write but that’s an ideal, and isn’t always reality. Anyway, that’s not the point, the point is I hope you like this. I have more ideas for fics with jjk men, and my requests are currently open. Feedback is always welcome as long as its in some form constructive being a hater isn’t helpful to anyone. 
I'll probably have longer fic's with plot soon too, but for obvious reasons, shorter scenes like this will come out faster. 
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The kitchen table was cold on your back. Your fingers digging into the edges of the wood. 
"Please," You begged. Your fingers itching to trail in his hair. 
"Good girls listen," Geto said, his thumb ghosting over your clit, "they don't beg." 
His breath was hot against your already heated centre, your mind was numbing slowly from the number of times he'd taken you to the edge only to pull back and leave you whining on the table. 
You couldn't touch him. 
You couldn't come. 
You couldn't think. 
You whined his name again your grip on the table tightening as he leaned in, letting his tongue graze your clit. 
"You want more?" He asked. His hands move to roughly holding your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin. 
"Yes." Your voice was unsteady and you focused on keeping your hips still. He licked slowly applying more pressure than before but not enough. 
You bit your lip to keep from whining but it was no use, a whimper left your lips anyway. 
He laughed at you, a soft chuckle that moved through you. He brought his hand to you again sinking two long fingers into your wetness and pumping once. 
"Move your hips, babe," He said and kept his hand still. You sighed and shifted your hips, moving on his fingers as he rose above you lining his face up with your tits, he caught a nipple in his mouth biting down on it. 
"That's it, baby girl," he mumbled around your nipple as you found your rhythm. Your moans got louder as you got closer to the lip of the familiar cliff again. His teeth moved to nipping your sensitive skin as you got closer and closer. 
You prayed he wouldn't pull away from you again. You were there, just a few seconds more. One foot was off the cliff, any second now you'd fall. A heavy heat clawed at the pit of your stomach, your hips were moving at a frantic pace. 
"You close baby?" Geto asked his words coasting over your heated skin. 
"Yes." You breathed, and his fingers were gone. A heavy hand pressed into your lower stomach holding you against the table. You groaned loudly, your eyes closing as your orgasm receded. 
"Not yet." He smirked. 
You breathed heavily as Geto leaned over you, his lips moving over your skin, tugging and nipping. His hands coasting over skin trying to soothe your frustration. 
Your hands still white-knuckled the table. You felt like you were going to die from this, you wanted to beg, but you knew if you did it would prolong his tormenting. 
You stayed still, breathing, eyes closed tightly as he moved slowly caressing your body with soft touches and softer kisses.
"Let's try that again." He muttered his lips hovering just above you. "But keep your hips still this time." Your breath shuttered at his words. 
"Okay." 
He sank two fingers into you again, you could hear how wet you were as he pumped them. He was going so slow, but you were so sensitive that the knot in your stomach built again fast. He added another finger drawing a breathy moan from you. His pace increased and the sounds of him fucking you with his fingers vibrated in your ears as you began to drown in the heat all over again. 
"Open your eyes, baby," Geto spoke softly his lips still hovering over yours. "Do you want to come?" 
"Yes." You whispered, the word barely leaving your mouth. 
He pressed a heavy wet kiss to your lips, his tongue pushing in. But his fingers slowed again, his free hand threading into your hair. He kissed you like that, his tongue moving with the same rhythm as his fingers. 
"Then come around my cock," He said pulling away from you completely. 
You kept your eyes from fluttering shut again at the loss of him. Instead, you watched him as he pulled a condom out of his pocket and pulled his cock out of his sweats. It only took him seconds to glide the condom on and line up with you, but it felt like forever to you. 
Geto settled on his elbows over you as he pushed into you slowly. 
"Fuck," he cursed as he sank into you, his hips pressing into yours as he bottomed out. He stayed like that for a minute, his face buried into your neck, his teeth pulling at your skin. 
Finally, he thrusted up, but it was slow still. Painfully slow. 
"Geto," You stretched out his name. 
He pushed off his elbows, his hands moving to your hips as he stood up. He pulled you with him, your hips hovering above the table. Geto moved for your hands next grabbing them both, bringing them to your belly button and pushing down. He held them tightly in one hand. The other hand digging into your waist. 
He looked down at you unmoving for another second before pulling his hips back and thrusting into you. 
"Keep your eyes on me." He demanded as his hips snapped into you again, and again, and again. His pace picked up with each thrust. 
"I love watching your tits bounce like this." He said, letting your hip go to quickly smack your boob. 
You whined at the sting, your eyes shutting for a second.
In that second Geto dropped you back to the table his body coming down over yours again as he moved your hands over your head. 
You groaned as the angle changed. His cock hit your g-spot as his thrusts got angrier. 
"Eyes open." He snapped. His other hand moves from your hip to your throat. 
"Fuck," You mutter around the pressure at your throat. 
"Take it." He muttered, his pace picking up again. Your body slid up the table an inch and Geto cursed his hips snapping into you harder. 
The knot in your stomach was at its end, the heat crawling over you was oppressive. Geto's hand at your throat was almost bruising and it all came crashing down on you in a rough wave. 
You cried out, your hands fighting against his, and he let you go. Finally getting to touch him. Your arms instantly went around his head and your body arched up into his. Your chest crushing into his as you came. 
He cursed as your walls spasmed around him, your body writhing and shaking under his. His fingers stayed around your throat as he fucked you through your high. His thrusts didn't slow, instead, he became rougher milking your orgasm. 
"Dammit, baby." He moved his head down to yours pressing his forehead to yours, and letting his fingers drift down your chest so that he was holding your tit, his thumb rubbing at your nipple. 
You mewled at the ministration, overwhelmed by him. It was almost too much, his cock was still hitting your g-spot as he worked himself up to his orgasm. You were gasping under him. 
"Geto please." You begged, looking up into his eyes. Your hand twisted into his hair as you tilted your head up to kiss him. 
Geto's hands dropped to the table beside you as he finally came, his hips stuttering through his orgasm. He moaned into your mouth as the condom filled with his cum. 
"Fuck, fuck, fuck" He repeated as he worked through his orgasm your hips lightly rocking against him as he slowed. 
He stilled against you, his cock still buried inside you. His lips still moved with yours in a lazy kiss. You didn't want him to move. Honestly, you felt like you could stay like this forever with Geto pressed against you, in you.
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A/N: again thank you for reading! send in a request if you'd like!
~ hxt1b, feb 5 2024
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gilverrwrites · 5 months ago
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Say His Name
Tim Drake/Reader, ≈1.1K
AN: Someone asked for cute smut with Tim Drake and this certainly isn’t it, but it is on the burner. I’m imagining him like mid 20s here, but you could go older or even a bit younger if you wanted. It really was just a thought, I did not expect this to surpass a couple 100 words but here we are.
CWs: Breach of trust, teasing, masturbation, vouyerism, withheld information, vaguely dom/sub dynamics. GN!Reader
Thinking about heroes with semi/famous secret identities finding out their favourite civilians used to have a big ol’ crush on them and being so.fucking.normal. about it, especially because you don’t know what, who you’re confessing to.
Particularly the bats (Bruce, Dick, Jason) but could also be like Oliver, or Clark. But in this case Tim.
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Like he came to your home in the night, now he’s supposed to be sleeping off an injury or rough patrol in your childhood bed but he just can’t nod off so he starts looking around, searching for a book or anything to calm his mind when he find a draw full off magazine/paper clippings of himself. There are little stickers on them, your paired initials surrounded by hearts written in glitter pen. So cute.
The discovery plays on his mind until he sees you again, probably the next morning. He’s suited and booted getting ready to head out when you poke your head in to check on him. He knows he shouldn’t say anything, asking would mean admitting to snooping, to invading your privacy, abusing your hospitality but… “So umm, what’s with the Tim Drake murder shrine in your desk drawer?”
Your eyes bulge, lips pulled tight as you process the question, you’re adorable when you’re frazzled.
“Tim Drake-Wayne.” You correct with an awkward laugh, trying to diffuse your own nerves with humour. “What that? Doesn’t everyone have one of those?”
“Nope, I’m pretty sure you’re the only one.”
“Maybe, probably.” Your laughter is more relaxed now, but there’s still a sheepish edge to your tone. The fact that you’re accepting his teasing, despite having every right to be mad only fuels his fire. “This is embarrassing, I used to have such a huge crush on him. They used to be on the wall, but I didn’t have the heart to throw them out when I took them down.”
He’d hoped your confession would satiate his curiosity, the burn in his loins, but he’s still not satisfied and you’re not refuting him so he keeps pushing. Metaphorically and physically. He’s not touching you but he’s close enough to smell your body soap as he asks, “Are you still into him?”
Fuck he’s too intense, you can barely maintain eye contact with him. Why is talking about another man getting you so riled?
“I don’t really follow him but I guess he’s still pretty hot.” Music to his ears, a nice long therapeutic scratch to his ego. “Why?”
“Just curious.” He replies and though his tone is unbothered, he’s body language is not; he’s all sharp moves and tense muscles. He averts his gaze for a moment, examining your sheets for the hundredth time then looks back to you. Your hands are preoccupied, anxiously fiddling with the hem of your top and he’s suddenly overwhelmed by the image of you touching yourself to the thought of him with those same hands.
“So…” he cocks his thumb to the bed you know too well. “I guess you used to sit in that bed and think about him, huh?”
His drift is caught, he can tell by the way you look upward, that you’re thinking, hard. Considering your next move and he’s praying you’ll keep biting his hook. Your shoulders sag as you look back at him and he knows he’s got you cause that means you’re relaxing, letting your walls down.
“If I show you something, promise not to judge?”
“I promise.” There’s more! “Scout’s honour.”
He was never a fucking scout, but he gives you his best approximation of a salute anyway.
The bedside table had been locked last night, the key was hidden under the reading lamp but he’d figured you wanted it locked for a reason. He wasn’t completely without shame. Now that you’re rifling through it though, he figures it’s free game for peeking. Once you find what you’re searching for you snap the drawer shut but not before he catches a glimpse of a few choice items, things that could come in useful, if he gets his way.
“These are what I looked at when I was thinking of him.” You hand him a small batch of photos, print outs of him Tim Drake, most are from a specific day. He remembers when they were taken, he was 18? 19 maybe? It had been an unusually hot day at Ivy U. After a long workout out he’d left the campus gym without a shirt. The paparazzi had had a field day, and apparently so had you.
His mind is drifting again to how that might look and he has to see it, has to convince you to show him. Without warning he closes the distance between you. Your hands fly up, settling gently on his chest. Your touch is so soft, nothing like the way he grips your hips for dear life.
The two of you had kissed before, but not like this, never like this. This is searing and needy. He’s completely invading your sense and it’s making you dizzy. Body to body, tongue to tongue. He groans into your mouth and it makes your already tense core begin to throb. Wanting to hear it again you roll your hips, grinding onto him and there it is again; He moans as you rub against the solid bulge in the crotch of his suit. Eager to coax more of those beautiful noises out of him you reach down, hungry to run your palm over his length but he stops you with a fast, iron like grip around your wrist.
Without a word, he guides you onto the bed. The control he has over you is driving you wild, it’s in your eyes, in your blown-out pupil and the way they watch his every move, waiting for what he’ll do next.
When you’re snug against the mattress, he tucks your hand into your waistband, tugging at the fabric until you get the idea and start stripping them yourself. Once exposed, you don’t wait for instruction, unable to stop from stroking your arousal.
You’re not sure what’s come over you, just that something about Red Robin gets you so inexplicably turned on and you’d do anything to have him relieve that tension.
“You want me to touch myself?” It’s a redundant question you’re already touching yourself. He nods anyway, mask hiding most of the heat that has flooded to his face.
His hand reaches for yours and you hope for a moment that he plans to take over but instead, he cups your wrist, turning your hand just enough to spit on your palm, offering additional lubrication. The lewdness of his actions has you breathless
“Say his name.” He states it firmly, you’re lost for a second, looking at him with big empty eyes, dumb on building ecstasy. “Say Tim while you’re touching yourself.”
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tarrynightss · 1 year ago
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Under Captain Price’s desk
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Synopsis: You give Price a blowjob underneath his desk, only for Soap to walk in. It would be better to stop before you get caught, but teasing Price is so much more fun
Warnings: Smut
Pairing: John Price x genderneutral reader
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One of Price’s hands is wound tightly in your hair, the other one gripping onto the edge of his desk like his life depends on it. You are seated underneath it, on your knees, your mouth sliding along his cock deliciously. The sinful sight of it alone has a flush appearing behind his beard. You shouldn’t do this, not right here in his office during the day, but Price was far too eager for your touch to stop you. Your eyes stare up at his, tears pricking at the corners when you take him deep into your throat, your hands bracing you against his muscular thighs. With the way his hips sputter up against your face you can tell he’s close, his face scrunched up in pleasure. All you hear are his soft groans before a knock startles you both.
Price pulls you off of his cock with lightning speed, quickly pushing you further underneath his desk and scooting himself closer to it as well. Your back is pressed against the wood of his desk, his cock smearing your own spit and his precum along your cheek as there is little space for either of you to move to. Your face is essentially sandwhiched against his crotch, but not without reason, as within seconds you hear the door to his office opening.
“I did not tell you you could come in,” Price says gruffly, trying to appear as casual as possible.
You can feel your heartbeat in your throat as you realize you almost got caught on your knees in front of your captain. A shiver runs over your spine as you imagine what could’ve happened, the thought surprisingly not all that unpleasant…
A care-free laugh resounds through the room, and you quickly pinpoint it to be Soap’s. “Don’t be such a hard-ass cap, got those files you wanted.”
Price’s hand in your hair strokes you gently, clearly telling you to stay still as you hear footsteps approaching the desk. You really, really should, but another shiver of excitement runs through you as you turn your head slightly, smearing his cock over your lips. You can feel the muscles in his thighs flex under your fingers, the hand in your hair tightening in warning. A smile pulls at your lips as you move one hand to grip onto his cock, bringing the head directly against your mouth.
“Great,” Price coughs, covering up a surprised groan when your tongue flicks out to lick his tip. “Leave them here and I’ll look through them later.”
You hear the thick folder hit the wood above your head. “You sure cap? There’s a lot here to sift through. Seriously, when you start reading what this guy’s been up to…”
As Soap rattles on you stop listening, instead focusing on licking from the base of Price’s cock back up to the tip, circling your tongue around it teasingly. You can feel him twitch in your hand with every movement, his hips slightly bucking when you close your lips around the head. He tugs on your hair again, warning you, but you don’t relent.
“You alright? You’re looking a bit flushed, heard there’s a bug going around,” Soap says, blissfully unaware of what is actually happening.
Price curses under his breath as he runs a hand over his face. You would chuckle about how stressed you have him if your mouth wasn’t currently occupied otherwise, sliding his cock deeper and deeper into your throat.
“I’m fine, just real busy,” Price tells Soap. His hand tugs at your hair, but this time it isn’t to warn you to stop, oh no. You feel the difference, feel the edge of roughness as he does it. You’re definitely paying for this later. “Let’s meet up in two hours, yeah? Then we’ll go over the details.”
Soap lingers for a moment more before you hear his heavy boots retreating back to the door. “Understood, sir.”
You can feel Price’s muscles relax as soon as Soap closes the door behind himself, leaving the two of you alone again. He instantly scoots back his chair, pulling you off of him as you whine.
“Fuck, you want to get me in trouble, don’t you, love?” He says, his brows drawn together in a frown.
He’s a little frustrated, but there’s also clear desire in his gaze as he stares down at you. And he could never get mad at you, not really.
You give him a sheepish smile. “I can’t help that you didn’t lock your door.”
He grabs onto your arm, tugging you up on his lap till you’re practically face to face with him, uncaring about dirtying your pants or shirt as his cock presses up against your stomach. “Right, because I should’ve known you would crawl under my desk, suck my cock, and then not even stop when one of my men comes in.”
“A true lack of foresight on your part, captain.” You bite your lip to hold back a chuckle.
He grabs onto your chin with one hand, and a heavy second passes before a lazy grin pulls at his lips. “You are dirty little thing, you know that?”
“Affirmative.”
He groans in approval, pressing a soft yet hungry kiss to your lips before pulling away and slapping your ass.
“Now go lock the door, I’m not done with you yet.”
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iwaasfairy · 1 year ago
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ahhh congratulations on 15k!!! you deserve every last one <33
for the event could i maybe ask for uncle ukai?? whatever you think up for him, i just need some keishin content pretty pls
Thank you so so much sweet pumPKINNNN AND ofc ofc ofc keiSHIN BELOVEDDD
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tw incest, breeding/pregnancy mentions, unhealthy behaviour
You still love staying over to enjoy the edges of Miyagi city, and your mom always drilled that outside air was good for growing kids. So when grandma’s house became Keishin’s house, it was only natural that most of your summers would be spent here. It was fun when you were a kid, but you think it’s even more fun now that you’re old enough to understand him- to appreciate his sacrifices for the family.
You think it’s more fun now you’re able to see that helping out in the store is a good reason to keep you a little closer to him than he’s willing to admit. You never really minded it, to be honest. You always got along with Keishin before, and the older you’ve both gotten, the easier it has seemingly become.
You wrap your arms around your knee as you sit on the edge of the porch and hang one of your legs to dangle. You watch how he holds the cigarette between his fingers, taking impatient drags before the smoke leaves his lips - and his low voice rumbles through the bit of silence the garden allows, spreading out over the acres of fields surrounding you both. When he hangs up the phone to -presumably Tatsu-san who’s been keeping tabs on the store all week- his gray eyes find you and his drag of air becomes slower, before he blows the cloud over his shoulder.
“I told you to stay inside, didn’t I?” His slight annoyance at the sight doesn’t stay long enough to convince either of you, before he stomps the butt of the cig out under his lazy, plastic flip flops and walks up as he slides the phone into his pocket. “Come to watch me, did’ya?” When he stops before you, you smile just a little, and you swing your foot left and right before looking up.
“I got lonely, and your TV is shit. There’s nothing else to do but people watch.” As soon as you say it his frown gets deeper, before he grabs your cheek to squeeze.
It’s only by the way his gaze softens right back up when he releases you, you know he doesn’t take any of it to heart. “Brat.” He bends to lean in, and your mouth finds his much too comfortably— letting his tongue push our lips open and meet his own, and the kiss is only made deeper when his coarse, work-damaged hand wraps around you neck to pull you closer. When he pulls back you whine, but still can’t help scrunching up your nose.
“You really stink of tobacco, Keishin,” you whine, so he frowns as he sits down. His blond head of hair’s hidden by a baseball cap, but you reach up to pull free a few strands anyway, and tug it gently between your knuckles. “Didn’t you say you’d make an effort to stop.”
“If you would’ve stayed inside you wouldn’t have known whether I had or hadn’t.” His mouth curls into a slight grin, before he wraps one hand around your lifted wrists, and squeezes the other one behind your leg to rest it on your belly. He makes a slow appreciative circle there, and then goes to lean back into you. He does smell like tobacco, but he also smells like him, a little rough and sweaty and so familiar— and you never really minded having him close like this. His mouth’s soft against yours, even when his slight bit of stubble isn’t.
“I’ll definitely stop before the baby comes,” he then whispers into your mouth, and you find yourself agreeing wordlessly to pull him closer and let him start positioning you onto his lap. Tugging until you’re seated on his muscular thighs and his heat fills you up top to bottom where your lips connect. You should really stop watching him before the baby comes, too. Hands start groping your thighs and ass as he pulls you close, and your kisses travel to his jaw and ear and down his throat.
“Uncle Keishin~” You find yourself rolling your hips even before he makes you, and your pussy already feels like it’s aching for more, coating your panties in slick. “Show me again. Show me again how to make a baby? Please?”
“Ever since I put one in you, you’ve been relentless, huh. We went twice just this morning.” His breathy laugh against your collarbone does nothing to quell the need in your lower half. He dips a hand under your shirt to brush over your stomach again, before softly grunting out your name and pushing the fabric up. “Well, guess we might as well make use of the peace before yer mom finds out. Wanna be filled with more of my kids, huh?”
Your pussy clenches around nothing as answer, and the porch is filled with the sound of your moans and clothes being pulled off. It’s so nice and peaceful at the edges of Miyagi. Too bad you can’t stay hidden away here forever.
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