#the shoulder rolls. the shoulder rolls. why are you so tense babygirl

[dennisboobs]

i dont know what this is but i've noticed it

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

Oooh I love your ot8 writings so much!! Would you be able to write one where something bad happened to the reader while the boys are away on tour , like injury or is sad or something?

ℍ𝕠𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕝 𝕓𝕖𝕕𝕤

Warning: Angst/comfort/fluff

Summary: Request!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Leeknow, can you please help me put up the chandelier in the study room? I can’t study without good lighting,” Y/N pouted, her eyes wide and pleading as she begged her boyfriend for help.

“Yeah, baby, as soon as I’m done with this,” Leeknow replied absently, barely glancing up from his laptop. He was deeply focused on reviewing and choreographing new dance moves for their upcoming tour. Y/N frowned at his lack of attention and decided to find someone else.

“Channie-Oppa,” she called softly, knocking on the door to his studio.

“Come in, babygirl!” Chan’s voice came from the other side, warm and welcoming. She pushed the door open and stepped inside, spotting Han and Changbin working at a table covered in papers.

“Hey, baby,” Chan said, pulling her onto his lap as she entered. ���What can I do for you today?” He rested his cheek against hers, giving her a moment of comfort.

“Can one of you help me put up the chandelier in the study room? I asked Leeknow, but he seems too busy,” she pouted, giving them her best doe eyes.

“Tsssk, maybe not right now, bunny,” Changbin said, brushing his fingers gently along her thigh before kissing her temple. “We need to finish the tracklist for the tour, yeah? Maybe in a bit?”

“Binnie’s right,” Chan added, looking apologetic. “We’re really kind of swamped right now. Maybe in a few hours?”

Y/N huffed in frustration and slid off his lap, crossing her arms. “I don’t like that attitude,” Chan warned, his tone teasing, but there was a flicker of seriousness in his eyes.

“You guys never have time anymore, and I really need to study!” she whined, exasperated.

“Well, if you want us to keep a roof over our heads and have the finances for those expensive cars and Birkin bags you like, we have to make some sacrifices,” Han teased, his expression lightening the mood. Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help giggling as she leaned in to peck him on the lips.

“Fine, I’ll go find someone else to do it,” she sighed, making her way toward the door.

“See you later, baby!” Chan called after her, waving as she closed the door behind her.

Determined to find help, Y/N headed to the conference room, where she found Hyunjin and I.N. along with their manager, surrounded by stacks of papers. Felix was getting measured for some new outfits.

“There are my amazing models,” she chimed, trying to bring some cheer to the tense atmosphere.

“Hey, baby! I’m so sorry, but we really can’t talk right now,” Hyunjin whispered, his expression apologetic. “We’re in a fashion week meeting.”

“Is what you need important?” he asked, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the forehead. Y/N glanced over his shoulder and realized they were indeed in a serious meeting. She cursed under her breath, then turned back to him.

“Baby, the love of my life—”

“Mhm, what do you want?” he raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Here’s my card,” he said, pulling it out to hand to her. “Buy whatever you need.”

“That’s not why I’m here, but thanks!” she giggled. “Can you or one of the others help me put up the chandelier in the study room? Pretty please?” She gave him her best puppy-dog eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll tell the boys, but not right now, okay?” he said quickly. “I have to go now. I’ll see you in a bit.” He placed a soft kiss on her lips and hurried off before she could respond.

Feeling defeated, she closed the door and made her way to the living room. Then it hit her—she still had two more boyfriends somewhere in the house! Not ready to give up, she decided to head to the instrument room.

She lightly knocked on the door, and I.N. called for her to come in. As she stepped inside, she noticed one of the instructors sitting in the corner, reviewing some papers.

“Hey, babe!” Seungmin greeted her with a warm smile, leaning in to give her a quick kiss. “Everything okay?”

“Can one of you help me put up the chandelier in the study room?” she asked, trying to sound hopeful.

“Maybe after we’re done with vocal practice, yeah?” Seungmin replied, nodding toward the instructor.

“Fine,” she huffed, frustrated but smiling nonetheless. “Thanks, guys!” she said, waving goodbye as she left.

The boys kept pushing her away with their busy schedules, and now the one thing she really needed help with remained undone. She didn’t want to study in any of their workspaces while they were gone; the whole reason they even had a study room was because Chan wanted her to have her own little space. As she walked away, she resolved to find a way to get that chandelier up—one way or another.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The fall happened in an instant. One moment, Y/N was up on the ladder, carefully trying to fix the big chandelier, and the next, she was crashing down, the world spinning wildly around her. She hit the floor with a jarring thud, and everything went dark for a moment.

When her vision finally cleared, she was greeted by a shocking sight: shards of glass glimmered around her like a dangerous constellation, and a pool of crimson was slowly spreading out from beneath her. Her heart raced as she registered the pain throbbing in her head and the sharpness of it radiating through her body.

“Ow,” she groaned, her voice barely above a whisper as she attempted to assess her injuries. Panic began to rise in her throat as she looked at the blood pooling around her. “No, no, no…”

Every inch of her body felt like it was on fire. The tightness in her throat made it impossible to scream or call for help. All she could manage were muffled cries, silent and desperate, as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Y/N’s phone lay just out of reach, the screen dark and unresponsive to her silent pleas for help. Her strength waned, and she felt her limbs grow heavy, as if the weight of her fear was pulling her down into the abyss.

“Help… someone…” she thought, but the words wouldn’t come. The room around her began to fade, shadows creeping in at the edges of her vision. Just as she felt herself slipping away, everything went black.

In that moment, the world faded, leaving only an echo of her own heartbeat and the haunting realization that she was utterly alone.

Beep Beep Beep Beep

The haunting beeping of hospital monitors filled Y/N's ears as she slowly regained consciousness. Bright white light pierced her eyes, making her squint against the harsh glare. A groan escaped her lips as she tried to process everything around her. Pain coursed through her body, sharp and relentless, and her memory felt like a jumbled puzzle.

As she shifted slightly, a cry of pain escaped her when she caught sight of her leg in a bulky cast. Panic surged through her.

“Y/N?”

She recognized the voice instantly. “T/N, you’re awake? Thank God! Don’t scare me like that!” Yeji exclaimed, sitting beside her with a steaming cup of coffee cradled in her hands.

“What happened?” Y/N groaned, looking over at her friend, trying to shake off the fog in her mind.

“You tell me, love. I just came over because we had plans, and I found you on the ground. I think you fell off the ladder,” Yeji explained, her fingers gently caressing Y/N's hand, trying to offer comfort.

“I—I was trying to…” Y/N struggled to gather her thoughts, her head pounding. “I was trying to put up the chandelier, and then I just fell,” she admitted, her voice weak.

“Girl! You have eight boyfriends for all that heavy lifting! Why would you do that?” Yeji questioned, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

“I told them, but they were busy getting ready for tour. They forgot…” Y/N sighed, trying to get comfortable in the stiff hospital bed.

“Well, look where that’s gotten us now,” Yeji softly scolded her. “Speaking of boyfriends, they’re on their way back. I called them.”

Y/N gasped, eyes widening in alarm. “Why would you tell them, Yeji? I’m fine!”

“Y/Nnie, are you crazy?! Have you seen yourself?!” Yeji exclaimed, looking at her like she had lost her mind.

“You have a broken arm and leg, cuts everywhere, and a huge concussion!”

“Yeah, but they have tour, Yeji! Their fans are more important,” Y/N replied, frustration creeping into her voice.

Yeji shook her head in disbelief. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“One sec, Chan is calling,” Yeji said, picking up her phone. Y/N groaned and closed her eyes, dreading the impending conversation.

The pain medication was strong, and when she next opened her eyes, it was five hours later. The room was filled with low chatter, and as her vision cleared, she saw all her boyfriends gathered around her.

“Hey,” she croaked, her voice raspy but still audible above the noise.

“Baby?” Chan was the first by her side, gripping her hand gently to avoid the IV. “Thank goodness you’re okay.”

“Hey, babe,” she replied, trying to shift for comfort, only to groan again.

“Don’t scare us like that again,” Han added, settling on her other side and placing soft kisses on her hand, while Felix sat in one corner, and I.N. perched on the other.

“Why did you guys come back?” she asked, her brow furrowing as she noticed the concern etched on their faces.

“I told you guys she’s gone mad,” Yeji chimed in from her spot in the corner, shaking her head.

“What do you mean why? Babe, you’re in the hospital with a concussion!” Leeknow said, disbelief lacing his voice.

“What even possessed you to get on that ladder?!” Changbin exclaimed, frustration evident.

“None of you wanted to put up the chandelier, so I thought—”

“You thought you could do it alone?” Chan interrupted, his tone serious. “Do you know how dangerous that is?”

“Well, none of you wanted to do it!” she snapped back, the pain in her body giving way to frustration. “You guys are always busy. I don’t even know why you’re here!”

The boys exchanged guilty looks, realizing how much they had let her down. “You’re right… I’m sorry, babe,” Chan said softly.

“Are you feeling better?” Changbin asked, concern filling his eyes. “Have you eaten?”

“The pain meds are helping, so yeah. But no, I haven’t eaten,” she admitted, her stomach growling in agreement.

“This is the second time she’s woken up; she hasn’t had the energy to eat yet,” Yeji explained, organizing the flowers and teddy bears that had been sent by fans.

“Thank you, Yeji, for taking care of her,” Hyunjin said, his gratitude evident.

“I am the better Hwang, after all,” she teased, a playful grin on her face.

“What would you like to eat, baby?” Seungmin asked, pulling out his phone.

“Anything… I don’t really care,” she huffed, trying to get comfortable again.

“Cuddle?” Felix pouted, his eyes filled with concern. He felt awful seeing her like this and wanted nothing more than to make her comfortable.

She nodded shyly, and he quickly crawled to her side, gently wrapping her in his arms. She leaned back, taking in his comforting scent.

“Did you guys get any rest?” she asked, looking at I.N., her youngest boyfriend.

“No, Noona. We just got here from the airport,” he frowned, his eyes filled with worry.

“Chan—”

“No, no, no. We aren’t going anywhere until they say you can leave the hospital,” he said firmly, his expression leaving no room for argument.

“But come on, it’s just a broken leg and arm, Take them home to at least get showered and rest, and you’ll be back,” she pleaded, trying to convince him.

But it was no use. All of them refused to budge.

So for two days, they all stayed at the hospital, living out of their suitcases and using the hospital bathrooms as their personal ones. Luckily, she was finally released, and they were able to go back home to their comfortable beds.

And as for the tour? Well, that had been forgotten in the chaos.

The ride home from the hospital was filled with a mix of excitement and exhaustion. As they pulled into the driveway, Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the familiar sight of their home. She felt a wave of relief wash over her. Finally, she was out of that sterile hospital room and back where she belonged.

“Welcome back baby,” Chan announced dramatically as they all stepped inside. The house felt warm and inviting, and she was immediately surrounded by her boyfriends, each eager to help her settle in.

“Let’s get you comfortable,” Han said, guiding her to the couch, where fluffy pillows awaited. As she sank into the cushions, a content sigh escaped her lips.

“I missed this place,” she murmured, letting her eyes flutter shut for a moment.

“Not as much as we missed you,” Seungmin replied, plopping down next to her and offering her a slice of her favorite cake. “Here, you need to eat something.”

“Thank you, Seungmin,” she smiled, taking a bite. The sweetness was comforting, and she could feel her energy returning just from the taste.

“I’ll grab you some water,” I.N said, jumping up. “And maybe some snacks, too!”

“You spoil her,” Leeknow teased, shooting a knowing glance at Y/N. “But I guess that’s our job now.”

As the boys hustled around, Felix crouched down beside the couch, looking up at her with his big, earnest eyes. “What do you need, Y/N? Just say the word, and I’ll make it happen!”

“Just having you all here is enough,” she replied, her heart swelling with affection.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Don't forget to reblog and follow! <3

A/N: Thank you anon!

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[yaekiss]

𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒚𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒔?! - 𝒑𝒕. 𝟐

꩜ Room Content: Dom! GN! Reader! x Sub! Xiao, Sub! Zhongli, Sub! Diluc (separate), all 3 of them are inexperienced virgins, mild monsterfucking(?) in Xiao's part, handcuffs in Zhongli's part, lmk if I missed out anything! ꩜ A/N: Part 2 !!! Sorry for the wait, made this one slightly longer to make up for it orz, enjoy the tired meowmeow trio! Tried to make it as in character as possible but could be ooc 💀, feedback if anyone's too ooc LMAO ꩜ Adjoining Rooms: Part 1 (Wanderer, Aether, Kaveh)

It’s your first time fucking your babygirl, what trait of his catches your eye?

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟒𝟏𝟕: 𝑿𝒊𝒂𝒐

I’d like to think with how much he does seek out approval from those he looks up to, plus how he usually never lets himself be loved, the second your hands wrap around his cock and you mutter a soft “you’re so good for me, Xiao,” the walls he set around his heart slowly start crumbling down

Perhaps more adeptal features start showing itself to you for the first time in your whole relationship with him

Carding your hands through his hair, you feel the soft feathers starting to sprout from the nape of his neck down to his shoulder blades

As you work him to his peak, the tattoo on his right arm starts to glow faintly

Maybe if you make him cum enough, he’ll show you all of his adeptal form 👀

“That’s it Xiao, don’t hold back,” you purr into his ear as his face gets impossibly redder. Your hands wring out the most delectable noises from him but it’s not enough. You want more. (And judging by his reactions, so does he)

“Hah, ahn! So so so close…!” His body is tense, teetering on the edge of euphoria, piercing golden eyes gazing into yours. Even in the throes of pleasure, he’s still waiting for you to give him permission to cum.

“So perfect, go on, cum for me.” A particularly harsh jerk has his eyes rolling into the back of his head, breath hitching as he chokes on air. Your eyes catch the pale green tattoo shimmer when the pressure building in him snaps, his orgasm splattering across his toned tummy and coating your hand.

When you look back up at Xiao, he has deep teal feathers dotted around his shoulders, and wait- Are those talons?! Noticing your gaze, he attempts to squirm out of your embrace, angling his body away to hide his features that made a sudden appearance. But you know your skittish sweetheart too well. Your hands immediately clamp down on his waist and he bites back a whimper, stopping his escape.

“Don’t look at m- mmph?!” His cock is engulfed by your mouth, any previous thoughts of shying away instantly dispelled. 

“I wonder how much more you’re holding back from me darling?” With that look in your eyes, Xiao knows he’s in for a long night ♡

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟏𝟐𝟑𝟏: 𝒁𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊

He’s not exactly… uneducated on coitus or sexual intercourse per se

(Don’t ask him how many lewd prayers he’s had to listen to over the years)

But no matter the amount of knowledge he has amassed, nothing beats hands-on experience and expertise (that he, very glaringly, lacks)

The furthest he’s gone is clumsily fumbling around with his body and figuring out some of his erogenous spots and ahem deepest fantasies after hearing an especially steamy prayer one night

Which is why you have a naked and blushing 6000-years-old ex-deity lying in your bed right now

Thankfully he can always count on you to ravish him!

The flickering candlelight casts a warm orange sort of radiance on his skin, further accentuating the glimmering veins of molten gold climbing up his arms. Trailing your gaze upwards, you are greeted with the sight of geo-constructed cuffs circling his wrists, shackling him to your bed. His face is practically scarlet with how embarrassed he is right now but with how much effort he has put in, he’s determined to see tonight through. 

(The sight before you reminds you suspiciously of a scene in that raunchy erotica book you lent him a couple weeks ago. It’s kind of cute when you think of how long he has had this desire ruminating in his mind.)

“T-touch me please, dear,” his voice is gravelly, laced with a desperate need for your hands to roam all over him, cock twitching at the thought.

“Where do you want me to touch you? What makes you burn and shudder from how good it feels?” Such licentious words! Zhongli can’t help but shake with anticipation at your next sentence.

“Don’t worry dear, I’ll give you everything a god could ever want.”

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟒𝟑𝟎: 𝑫𝒊𝒍𝒖𝒄 𝑹.

Our favourite repressed redhead!

Despite the more-than-enough prospective fiancées he’s introduced to during banquets and festivals, he’s never really progressed far enough in a relationship for him to tumble into bed with another

That is, until you entered into his life and stole his heart (and soon, his virginity!)

Very obedient and mostly just goes along with whatever you say so he greatly appreciates it when you regularly check in to make sure he’s comfortable

Do: Praise him. He’ll cum the second you praise him!

Don’t: Expect him to tell you what he wants. He has no idea either 💀

“Like this? Ah… it feels a little- hng! -weird!” His index finger slowly disappears into him the way you’ve instructed and he’s gradually getting used to the sensation of his ass being penetrated. Brows furrowed, he looks up at you for your input (oh you’ll be putting something in him alright)

“That’s right, doing very well! You’re a fast learner, as expected of my Diluc.” Hearing your praise, it spurs him on to push deeper, loosening him up even more. You can see every little action he does, seated across from him but never touching him. The amount of concentration he puts into fingering himself for the first time is honestly endearing, sweat already forming on his forehead, thigh muscles tensing and relaxing at the new experience.

When he jolts, toes curling and head thrown back in a flurry of red, you know he’s discovered where his prostate is. Diluc looks breathless yet so breathtaking, his face the same colour as his hair, chest heaving as he tries to recover from the lick of ecstasy he just tasted.

He looks so cute and clueless but you’ll help him out, won’t you?

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

[dollfacedsl1ut]

corruption kink with step sis wonyoung 😫😫

tw: dubcon/noncon, sexual exploitation??, forced fingering, forced cum eating, no proper aftercare, crying, wonie is just really mean:((

a/n: I had an idea of g!p wonie too lmk If you wanted to see that one and I’ll post it

Wonyoung as livid when she figured out her parents were getting a divorce because of your mom, she swore on her life she was gonna make your mom pay for breaking up her family, but didn’t know how until wonie finally met you……. Wonyoung has never seen a girl as innocent as you with a slut for a mother she knew this was the perfect token to make your mother pay…corrupt her innocent babygirl, this was gonna be a easy task for her, she used the time where you guys were left alone whilst your mom and stepdad went on dates this time to wonies advantage this date was Valentine’s Day but since no one had work for a week that’s how long they stayed on their trip, Wonyoung would start off with small talk getting to know the thing you like before obviously saying she liked them too, the next step for her plan…..was the only idea she had left, fully corrupt you by sexual interactions it was easy for wonie she had a reputation at her sorority for making people fall in love easily she was gonna use this against you, It’s been only 4 days since your parents had left and you were alone with wonie but she wasn’t in the living room with you as she would always be, eventually you went to wonies room too see her touching herself and yelling profanities, the sight wasn’t anything you’ve seen before but you kind of liked it? A unfamiliar wet sticky feelings was sticking your panties against your clit, It all happened briefly but wonie pulled you into her room closing/locking the door, she easily pushed you on the bed removing your panties and off shoulder white top, you were left naked and humiliated as you begged wonie to stop, her fingers plunging into your tight cunt it was painful at first but after a while her fingers felt good moving around inside of you, your soft hands grabbed at her sleeves as her fingers kept rutting inside of you a hint of blood appeared on wonies fingers but she ignored it, your belly felt a unfamiliar knot tighten as your body tensed tears rolled down your soft cheeks, you were so confused on why you felt this way, another feeling of relief rushed over you as you came on her fingers a white sticky coat was left on her hand, a pair of hands gripped your thighs forcing your legs open, the cold air brushed past your cunt making you shudder, your eyes were still closed but your ears perked up as you heard clicking sounds and a flash baring your eyes, looking up at wonie in horror as her phone was in your hand taking pictures of your cunt, you knew you’d regret letting her do this too you, you should’ve stopped her sooner before this happened but you knew woniee was gonna end it here, she took off her shorts before sliding her cunt up against yours, her pace was fast and sensual her hips rolling against yours as your pussies created a creamy sound, your moans mixed with soft cries rang in her head as it drove her to move faster, her hands pinching and twisting your nipples, she wanted you to cum before her, your thighs trembled as that knotting feeling in your belly formed again it snapped ever so easily as wonie spread your lips further slotting her cunt up again, she eventually stopped after she came and you were on the verge on breaking down, your thighs were covered in sticky cum as wonie giggled, her fingers scooping up cum from her cunt and placing them against her lips, you refused countless times before she slapped you a few times before shoving her dirty fingers in your mouth, she watched you swallow her cum as she patted your head, you were crying and shaking but instead of leaving wonie hugged you near her chest brushing your hair back whispering sweet nothings in your ear you easily believed wonie knew she had you under her wing the only thing left was to get caught by your mother purposely so you’d been seen as the slut your mother was

[ticklygiggles]

Dangerously Close At Night | Rafayel x Reader [N$FW]

Collab with @lovelynim

A/N: Happy Valentine's day! Precious Fabi and I worked together to write this little n$fw piece with our favorite babygirl from Love and Deepspace! Thank you for writing this with me, Fabi! ❤️ I hope you all enjoy it! (Also, big thanks to this anon for inspiring us)

Warnings: this fic is very feet centered, so read at your own risk

Summary: Rafayel dared to forget to buy you something for you on Valentine's Day. Of course he'll get a well deserved punishment, but why is he enjoying it so much?

Words: 2,811

A pretty, large, red ribbon, made out of the finest silk in the market. Delicate, but with strings firm enough to keep things in place. There couldn’t be a better choice to restrain him.

“So, is this your great idea for a Valentine’s gift?” Rafayel said, his voice full of snark and pride. You smirked, telling yourself inside your head that he wouldn’t keep those for long - not tonight.

After sitting on the edge of the bed, you start to slowly work on the buttons of your own shirt, revealing some extra bits of skin in an attempt to earn his attention and, above that, set the mood. You could tell that he was hiding his nervousness just by how tense his shoulders were, by the way his restrained hands fiddled behind his back. 

“This is just the setting. Why the rush? It’s your fault for not buying me anything anyway,” you said, kicking off your high heels before crawling a little closer to him. “You said to yourself that I could get anything I wanted…”

Rafayel chuckled, resting his head back in the pillows and letting out a nervous sigh. You could tell he was still trying to figure out your plans, but couldn’t come up with anything. “So, miss bodyguard… is this what you wanted?”

You rolled your eyes, admiring his helpless state for a few more seconds. You slowly reached to his leg, feeling the fancy fabric that his pants were made of and tracing a short path from the top of his thigh down to his knee. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle when Rafayel nearly jumped off the bed from just that touch. “Are you nervous? Scared that I’m going to do something bad to you?”

“W-well, you are looking at me like a shark would look at a wounded fish,” he averted his gaze, trying to force his way out of his binding one more time before sighing in defeat.

You shook your head, amused by his answer, and continued to move your hand down his leg, stopping as soon as you reached his ankle. “What kind of person do you think I am, Rafayel? I thought that, by now, you’d have a better picture of me,” you muttered softly, moving your hand around and tugging at the back of his shoe. 

“Or is this the better picture you have of me?” You asked, looking at his face with the corner of your eyes while letting his shoe drop to the ground. “Comfortable?” You smiled.

“Barely,” he snarked and your smile only widened as you pulled his other shoe off as well. “Hey. Do you have any idea how expensive they are? Could you be more careful?” 

“I can't,” you said just as your eyes caught sight of his feet. Rafayel was an elegant man. Very stylish and very careful with his appearance. Perfect hair, perfect face, impeccable clothes and shiny shoes. From head to toe, Rafayel was a handsome man, flashy and attractive.

For this reason, you were not surprised to find that his feet were wearing neat black nylon socks. His feet looked… pretty. You felt your cheeks heating up a little- this was the first time you felt so fixed in this part of another person's body. Rafayel certainly was too attractive. You swallowed thick. 

“W-What are you looking at?” 

You chuckled, lightly running your fingers up one of his soles. “Your feet, why?” 

Rafayel jumped at your touch and gasped sharply. His foot jerked away, but you caught his ankle, pulling it back so your fingernails scribbled lightly against his sole. Under his toes, swirling against his arch. Rafayel giggled, pulling at his foot and trying to kick you with the other as he squirmed like a lovely fish out of water. 

“Puh-lease! It tihihickles!” 

“Well,” you giggled, “that could be because I am tickling you, silly.” You grinned, looking at his bright smile and rosy cheeks. “I always forget how ticklish you are, Rafayel,” you teased, suddenly stopping. 

Rafayel went limp against the bed, giggling and chuckling. “If you're going to be so mean, you better- what are you doing now?”

Grinning at him, you kneeled in front of his feet. Rafayel's eyes were wide, pupils trembling as you pulled his silky socks off. His toes scrunched and fanned out, wiggling as if he was trying to get rid of the tingly sensation from earlier. You smiled, taking one of his feet between your hands. Rafayel tensed, but before he could pull it away, you gave it a firm squeeze and started rubbing your thumbs against the sole. Rafayel gasped, but a low groan escaped him as you massaged his foot; your thumbs kneading the muscles by the sides, knuckles rubbing against any knot at his arch and the ball of his foot. 

“Aw, look at you…” You cooed, dragging your thumb from the top of his heel to just below his toes while pressing it against the soft skin. “Enjoying yourself?” Your words made his cheeks go even redder than before, that bright shade of red spread up to the tip of his ear.

Just as he was about to answer, you pressed down a little harder and forced a sweet (but embarrassing) sound out of his lips, making his breath go uneven. “W-what, agh… what are you uhuhup to? Is this y-your plan?” Rafayel panted, trying to still sound confident and charming, his usual act, but you could read right through him. 

His arms trembled, desperately trying to break free from the ribbon keeping them together, as you continued to experiment different methods and switch between different kinds of touches, keeping Rafayel at the edge, unaware of what to expect from you. “What’s so funny, Rafayel? You’re smiling so much tonight. Still feeling ticklish?”

“Y-you- hmph…” He sighed, turning his face away and arching his back a little, almost as if to get more comfortable inside his bonds. “Y-you keep tihihickling me. How c-can I feel ahanything else?” Rafayel retorted, clasping his knees together and letting out another heavy, long sigh.

You couldn’t help but notice that he wasn’t trying to pull his feet away from you anymore and was, instead, trying to fight something else other than your touch… the sensations that came from it, maybe? He gasped, giggled and chuckled with every stroke and pressure to his foot; his toes fanning out when you tickled his sole, as if asking for more. 

Feeling the heat from your cheeks spreading to your ears, you gulped. Something in your head clicking. This was… an interesting discovery. 

“Your feet certainly are sensitive, right Rafayel?” 

“W-What?”

You nodded with a grin, your nails gently scraping at the soft skin under his toes – the sound that came out from his lips barely surprised you, but still, it made you tremble inside. His feet really were sensitive, perhaps because they were new to him. 

“I mean, I can tell how much you’re enjoying this just by looking at you,” you grinned, holding his foot down with one hand and using your thumb to gently push his toes back, stretching out the sensitive skin. Your other hand soon joined, tracing lines up and down with the tip of your nails, being extra careful - and sadistically slow - while doing it.

“A-agh, nohoho!” Rafayel gasped, laughing a bit too much for how little effort you were putting into playing with his sole. “Yohou are juhuhust mehehessing w-with me!!” He whined, arching his back in a renewed fit of giggles, his foot twitching inside your grip as if he was trying to move it away from you - but you could easily tell that he wasn’t.

His skin felt good to the touch: soft, warm and adorably delicate. You felt like you could end up hurting his feet if you used just a tad more of strength. “And how else am I supposed to get you looking like this if not messing with you?”

You couldn’t tell what kind of noise came out of Rafayel’s lips when you teased him, but you definitely needed to hear it again. His cheeks were burning in a bright shade of pink that stretched out to the tip of his ears, creating a mesmerizing contrast with the dark hues of his disheveled hair. On top of all that, Rafayel had the most handsome smile you ever saw on his face - carefree, vulnerable and a little shy.

You knew this was driving Rafayel crazy, but so were you. You were flushed, feeling butterflies in your tummy and your chest and the tingling sensation between your legs only grew the more you gave attention to Rafayel. He was excited, turned on. Looking up, you could see the bulge in Rafayel's pants and your mouth watered. Was he being more sensitive than usual? Or were you being too good at riling him up? 

He gasped heavily, “wait, what are you- ngh!” A pretty moan escaped his lips when you suddenly pressed a wet kiss against the arch of his foot, followed by another and one more. “H-Hey, where are you k-kissing, ah!” He moaned your name as you started to swirl your tongue against the ball of his foot.

Your fingers lightly tickled his arch and his heel. Your other hand climbed up his leg under his pants, pressing against his skin firmly like a massage; you didn't reach all the way up to where you wanted to touch, but he gasped and jumped when you gave his inner thigh a squeeze. Rafayel closed his legs, as if trying to hide how aroused he felt. With his other foot, he gently pushed your shoulder, but there was barely any strength on his touch. 

“Aaah, pl-please,” he begged, arching his back when your tongue found its way between his toes. Your teeth scraped at them carefully and your tongue fluttered under them making him whine and let out choked chuckles. “T-this ihihis too m-much!” 

No, it wasn’t, you thought, unable to snap back at his pleas as your lips were busy doing something else. Despite Rafayel’s effort to hide it, the tent on his pants became more and more evident, his hardened cock throbbing with each lick, each stroke and each tickle. 

“Ngh!!- N-not there, ahh,” Rafayel cried, gritting his teeth and tensing his back when you pressed your tongue under his toes. You also couldn’t help but notice his hips slightly thrusting upwards, as if his dick was desperate to be freed and worshiped like that as well - a sight that made you smile against his skin.

It was no mistake to say that you were breaking him apart. The more you worked on his soles, the more aroused and desperate Rafayel seemed to be. His cool and charming persona was torn apart and all that was left was a man aching, craving for more.

You kissed his toes, gently nibbled at the side of his foot and dragged your tongue over his arches, over and over and over. Rafayel’s reactions didn’t seem to ever let you up, always rewarding your moves with delicious, intoxicating sounds that only made you want to keep going on and on. 

His plain white shirt was starting to look a little translucid after sweat began to stick to the cloth; his eyes sparkled as the dim light of the room reflected on the tears clinging onto his lashes and rolling down his cheeks; and a little wet spot began to take shape on top of the tent in his pants - that definitely was going to leave a stain, you thought.

You moved your head back slightly, grinning and licking your lips in a teasing manner as you exchanged looks with him. “I’d feel bad if I didn’t know how much you like this,” you mused, using your nails to tickle the saliva-covered skin of his foot to not let him rest. 

“Hnng- nohOHoho!! Ehehe, I cahAHAHan’t!”

“You look overwhelmed, Rafayel. Do you want me to stop? To let you go?” You tilted your head, admiring the way he thrashed his head left and right while laughing like a maddened man. “Come on, it’s a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question. I’m not even going that hard on you, I’m sure you can still talk, right?”

An annoyed groan escaped his lips amidst the laughter - it was still Rafayel. You knew how much it would hurt his stupid pride to beg you, how upsetting this kind of thing was to him. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder: was his annoyance as big as his arousal right now?

“Agh- n-no! Ahah, dohohon’t- ahh! D-don’t stohohop it”

You smirked at his words. “Don't stop it? Maybe if you beg like a good boy, I won't stop,” You tried your luck while your nails ran over the soles of Rafayel's feet with light but quick touches. “That's something easy to do, right Rafayel? After all, you want it so badly, don't you?” 

He let out a low, annoyed growl as he giggled and circled his hips. “Pl-Plehehease– please d-dohon’t stohohop.”

“That's a good boy,” you mumbled before latching your mouth back to Rafayel's unattended toes on his other foot. He moaned carelessly, toes fanning inside the warmth of your mouth as you licked, bit and kissed them carefully. His other foot, moisturized by your saliva, was still under a tickly attack that kept him giggling and laughing and whining, but he kept both his feet still for you to play with them. 

The sounds he made took their toll on you. You were leaking, tingling and clenching. If you had known that this would be his reaction to having his beautiful feet under your attention, you would have done it a long time ago. Who would have thought that a few tickles and a few kisses here and there would be enough to silence this dramatic boy?

“I… lohohove ihihit,” he suddenly said and you hummed against the ball of his foot. “I l-lohoHOve it whehen you t-tihickle my tohohoes!” 

That surprised you. He was not one to easily admit he liked something, especially when it was making him go crazy like that. You closed your legs, your hips thrusting slightly as you suck on the soft skin under his toes. Rafayel groaned deliciously. 

“F-Fuhuck… I th-thihink I'm g-gohonna–” 

“Oh? Really?” You arched an eyebrow, your eyes filled with lust. “Go ahead. Cum for me, little sea star.” 

Your fingernails tickled in between his toes on one foot as your teeth scraped at that delicate skin under the digits of his other foot. Rafayel cried out a broken moan, his arms twisting, trying to break himself free, but he didn't need that because he did cum only after a couple of seconds. 

“Aaaagh, fuck!” His body trembled as Rafayel moaned your name out loud, thrusting his hips upwards. You could only catch a few glimpses of his face, but it wasn’t to notice how stunned Rafayel looked at that moment. “E-enough..!” Rafayel pleaded, his voice hoarse, barely able to make it out of his throat.

Taken a bit off guard, you shook your head as you chuckled. Complying to his request, you let Rafayel move his feet away and rest them on the mattress - just to make sure they were out of your reach.

“My, I was just playing around… and you are already like this?” You teased, crawling on top of him and gently reaching out for his face with your hand. You gently brushed your thumb over his eyelids, wiping out the tears that were still clinging into his lashes.

“Y-you were being really mean, that’s what you did,” Rafayel whined through a heavy sigh, his body looking like it was going to melt on top of the mattress at any given moment.

“So you didn’t like it?”

“...I’m not saying that,” he pouted, lazily tilting his head to look at you and let you have a better look at him. You smiled softly, pushing his bangs away from his forehead.

“Got it… still,” before Rafayel could react, you placed your hands on his shoulders and pinned him against the bed once again, “don’t you think it’s a bit unfair if only one of us gets to cum?”

“W-what? That d-doesn’t count! There wasn’t even c-”

“But you did have an orgasm, Rafayel. I saw it myself,” you smirked, sitting on his stomach and starting to unbutton your own shirt - this time, all the way down. As you threw your shirt off the bed, you couldn’t tell if Rafayel was scared, excited, flustered or all of them at once. “It’s my turn to feel good now.”

After swallowing heavily, Rafayel seemed to gather the courage to look up to you again. “F-fine, go ahead…”

“Good boy,” you grinned. This was just the beginning of a really, really long night.

[brynjack]

Omgg guess what i am back and i did yesterdays promptt, i just was tweaking abt a chem test and couldn’t finish it in time but im grinding bruh, i got part of the prompt done for today but we’ll see lmao

tw: alcoholism and depression

Abandonment, misunderstanding, "Why did I even think you cared?":

Logan had been holed up in his room in the shared apartment for almost weeks. He must have timed when both Al and Wade were out, avoiding them swiftly when he came out for only the essentials, beer, food, shower, and the bathroom. Wade assumed part of it was because he annoyed the shit out of him and Logan’s traumatic backstory, but honestly he just wanted him out of the room. Maybe go out and get some sunlight? Wade had a right to worry and know what was happening, as one of Logan’s only friends in this godforsaken universe and his roommate. This is why, one day, Wade simply barges into Logan’s room to find him surrounded by beer bottles, turning away from the light of the doorway in the dark room, wincing.

“what the fuck- get out,” Logan growls, voice slurred.

“we are going outside peanut, cmon” Wade commands, keeping his usual lighthearted tone, nodding for Logan to get up.

“i’m not going with you, asshole” he hisses, glaring up at Wade from his spot sitting on the bed.

At that Wade simply walks up to Logan, attempting to pick him up by the waist to hoist him over his shoulder but Logan squirms out of his grasp, rolling onto the floor.

“Get the fuck off me.”

Wade ignores Logan’s protests and just picks up his calves, dragging him by the legs toward the door as Logan’s claws come out, a bit slowly. He starts to claw at the floor, wood scraping as he desperately tries to stay in his room.

As Wade continues to drag him he lets his claws off the floor, too tired and nauseous to keep fighting. He’s pulled out the front door, eyes closing at the natural light as Wade simply sets him on the warm sidewalk, standing above Logan with a smile, like he’s proud of himself.

Logan huffs, standing up, not wanting to lay below Wade for any longer, eyes shooting toward the door back inside, tense. Wade notices this and slings an arm around his shoulder, dragging Logan as he walks away from the house, teasing him.

“You feeling better yet?”

“Why the hell would I be feeling better?”

Logan’s feet drag behind him, swaying a bit even with Wade’s grasp, leaning up against him.

“Because you’re with your favorite person!” Wade sing songs, grinning as Logan growls at him.

“Why have you even been like this recently? You gotta get some vitamin d at least wolvie.” He now chides Logan, genuinely curious but knowing if he pushes as much as he wants to that Logan will just lash out more.

“None of your fuckin business,” He mumbles back.

Wade is surprised at how Logan lets him stay this close as he drags him around the block and he dramatically sighs.

“Come onn, you know you wanna share, I’m giving you the talking stick now.”

“I think I want to use it to get some silence,” Logan sighs, glaring over at Wade.

“You’re no fun, don’t you want to confide in your beloved, handsome, talented, best friend of a roommate, Wade Wilson, aka Deadpool?” Wade goes on, leaning up to Logan’s face, grinning.

“No,” he responds simply, deadpanning as he stares forward.

“So, you don’t want to confide in me, or you don’t think i’m beloved, handsome, talented and your best friend?”

Logan huffs, like it takes all his brain power just to respond to that.

“Neither,” he keeps his response shorter than usual, evidently not enjoying being dragged out of his room for a walk.

“Well I don’t know about you but I can wait here all day and all night until you crack, and y’know I love me some eggs in the morning babygirl.”

Wade pushes Logan down onto a park bench by bumping his hip against the other man’s as Logan stays stubbornly silent, anxiety growing in both of their chests. Wade sighs and takes both of Logan’s hands in his, tilting his head sideways to meet his eyes, still smiling with his eyebrows raised.

“You’re stuck with me either way, so while i’m changing your diapers you might as well tell me what’s going on in that brain of yours.”

“Why in the hell do you care so much?” Logan rips his hands out of Wade’s grasp, eyebrows knitted together as he glances at him, jaw clenched.

“Like you said, it’s one of God's best jokes that I can't die, but neither can you peanut, and I sure as hell ain’t dying alone.”

He didn’t know if it was the alcohol in his system, but Logan saw tenderness in Wade’s expression, and he was honestly just fucking tired. Tired of hiding, tired of Wade’s pushing, tired of feeling like the problem, tired of causing every single person around him pain. Tired. He explained as much as he could. It was his fault Wade was feeling guilty anyways.

[ailesswhumptober]

Omgg guess what i am back and i did yesterdays promptt, i just was tweaking abt a chem test and couldn’t finish it in time but im grinding bruh, i got part of the prompt done for today but we’ll see lmao

tw: alcoholism and depression

Abandonment, misunderstanding, "Why did I even think you cared?":

Logan had been holed up in his room in the shared apartment for almost weeks. He must have timed when both Al and Wade were out, avoiding them swiftly when he came out for only the essentials, beer, food, shower, and the bathroom. Wade assumed part of it was because he annoyed the shit out of him and Logan’s traumatic backstory, but honestly he just wanted him out of the room. Maybe go out and get some sunlight? Wade had a right to worry and know what was happening, as one of Logan’s only friends in this godforsaken universe and his roommate. This is why, one day, Wade simply barges into Logan’s room to find him surrounded by beer bottles, turning away from the light of the doorway in the dark room, wincing.

“what the fuck- get out,” Logan growls, voice slurred.

“we are going outside peanut, cmon” Wade commands, keeping his usual lighthearted tone, nodding for Logan to get up.

“i’m not going with you, asshole” he hisses, glaring up at Wade from his spot sitting on the bed.

At that Wade simply walks up to Logan, attempting to pick him up by the waist to hoist him over his shoulder but Logan squirms out of his grasp, rolling onto the floor.

“Get the fuck off me.”

Wade ignores Logan’s protests and just picks up his calves, dragging him by the legs toward the door as Logan’s claws come out, a bit slowly. He starts to claw at the floor, wood scraping as he desperately tries to stay in his room.

As Wade continues to drag him he lets his claws off the floor, too tired and nauseous to keep fighting. He’s pulled out the front door, eyes closing at the natural light as Wade simply sets him on the warm sidewalk, standing above Logan with a smile, like he’s proud of himself.

Logan huffs, standing up, not wanting to lay below Wade for any longer, eyes shooting toward the door back inside, tense. Wade notices this and slings an arm around his shoulder, dragging Logan as he walks away from the house, teasing him.

“You feeling better yet?”

“Why the hell would I be feeling better?”

Logan’s feet drag behind him, swaying a bit even with Wade’s grasp, leaning up against him.

“Because you’re with your favorite person!” Wade sing songs, grinning as Logan growls at him.

“Why have you even been like this recently? You gotta get some vitamin d at least wolvie.” He now chides Logan, genuinely curious but knowing if he pushes as much as he wants to that Logan will just lash out more.

“None of your fuckin business,” He mumbles back.

Wade is surprised at how Logan lets him stay this close as he drags him around the block and he dramatically sighs.

“Come onn, you know you wanna share, I’m giving you the talking stick now.”

“I think I want to use it to get some silence,” Logan sighs, glaring over at Wade.

“You’re no fun, don’t you want to confide in your beloved, handsome, talented, best friend of a roommate, Wade Wilson, aka Deadpool?” Wade goes on, leaning up to Logan’s face, grinning.

“No,” he responds simply, deadpanning as he stares forward.

“So, you don’t want to confide in me, or you don’t think i’m beloved, handsome, talented and your best friend?”

Logan huffs, like it takes all his brain power just to respond to that.

“Neither,” he keeps his response shorter than usual, evidently not enjoying being dragged out of his room for a walk.

“Well I don’t know about you but I can wait here all day and all night until you crack, and y’know I love me some eggs in the morning babygirl.”

Wade pushes Logan down onto a park bench by bumping his hip against the other man’s as Logan stays stubbornly silent, anxiety growing in both of their chests. Wade sighs and takes both of Logan’s hands in his, tilting his head sideways to meet his eyes, still smiling with his eyebrows raised.

“You’re stuck with me either way, so while i’m changing your diapers you might as well tell me what’s going on in that brain of yours.”

“Why in the hell do you care so much?” Logan rips his hands out of Wade’s grasp, eyebrows knitted together as he glances at him, jaw clenched.

“Like you said, it’s one of God's best jokes that I can't die, but neither can you peanut, and I sure as hell ain’t dying alone.”

He didn’t know if it was the alcohol in his system, but Logan saw tenderness in Wade’s expression, and he was honestly just fucking tired. Tired of hiding, tired of Wade’s pushing, tired of feeling like the problem, tired of causing every single person around him pain. Tired. He explained as much as he could. It was his fault Wade was feeling guilty anyways.

[willsimpforanyone]

OK NOW DOMINANT CONNOR PLEASE (HE'S MEAN I JUST KNOW IT)

okay i have a very similar request so he gonna be Rough(TM)

obv everyone is 18+ and this is a college au because i have one trope and one trope only lol

warnings for degradation, humiliation, use of toys, so much dirty talk it's almost comical

thank you for being so patient

--------------------------------

"Hey honey, are you busy?" I sidled up to Connor who was leaning over his laptop, spine curved over his desk.

He nodded, not taking his eyes off the screen. "Yeah, babe, I have to finish this by Friday." It was Tuesday.

"Okay, but it's Tuesday." I knelt down by his chair. He was too focused on his paper to notice the obvious hints I was giving. "Can't you leave it, just for a little bit? You've been working so hard." I rested a palm on his thigh.

Connor's eyebrow twitched slightly but he still didn't look at me. "Babe, what did I just say? I'm busy."

I shifted on my thighs, fluttery material just dusting my skin. Guess I was going to have to go all the way. Very gently, while his hands paused the motion of typing, I reached up and took one. Slowly, staring at his eyes, I brought his hand to my shoulder.

I saw his stomach tense through his t-shirt. Delicately, his fingers trailed across the thin strap on my babydoll, feeling the tulle material as they traced down my collarbone.

So slowly, his fingers retraced their steps, moving to my shoulder. He dusted the side of my neck, smoothing up the soft skin and coming to rest his hand on the back of my neck.

Connor's fingers tangled in my hair and pulled my head back in a quick, sharp movement and I gasped. He looked down at me, eyebrow raised, unimpressed.

"The fuck are you wearing, hm?"

I tried to swallow with my head being held back. "I-it's something I-I bought last week, I-I thought you'd l-like it."

Conner hummed. "And why did you think it would be a good idea to distract me with it, when you know perfectly fucking well I'm busy and have better things to do than you?"

My thighs squeezed, a tiny action that didn't escape his gaze now that it was trained on me. He shoved an unceremonious shoe between my legs, pushing my thighs apart so I couldn't relieve the dull ache that was only growing with the seconds passing.

"The second you get my attention, you start acting like a slut, huh?" He pushed away from the desk, only to pull me under it by my hair. The sting was delicious and I went willingly. "You want to be a slut? Go on, suck me off and I'll consider giving you my attention, yeah?"

His grip went lax for a second, and I recognised it for what it was- I could stop this immediately, if he was being too much I could leave or ask him to be nicer. I didn't want that, I adored what was happening. "Yes, please."

Resting his foot on the material of my panties, Connor let go of my hair. "Go on then, get to it."

There was not a moment's hesitation as I leant forward to pull at the waistband of his sweatpants. "I need you to lift up."

He rolled his eyes. "No, that's not how you talk to me, babygirl."

I shifted my hips slightly, the sole of his shoe grinding very slightly against my clothed pussy. "S-sorry, sir, please can you lift your hips?"

Mutely, he lifted his hips for just a second, just enough time for me to drag the waistband to the tops of his thighs. He smirked at the irritated noises I made as I struggled to drag them the rest of the way, but eventually his sweatpants were past his knees. I was about to lean forward again when he shifted his shoe up, pressing against my chest.

"No, they need to be all the way off." He scoffed. "I know you've done this before, baby, so do better."

Humiliation burned low in my stomach as I removed his sneakers, socks and finally the sweatpants. I noticed with a thrill that he wasn't wearing underwear, his cock already bobbing against his shirt.

Keeping his leg between mine, I shuffled forwards and took him into my mouth. The light fuzz that had been playing at the edge of my mind grew stronger as I relished the weight, the taste of him on my tongue. I let out a contented little hum.

Fingers were back in my hair, and Connor pulled me off. "So far, your performance has been lacklustre. You've put on your little whore outfit, so fucking act like it. Suck my dick properly or I will leave you under this desk and go jerk off by myself, is that what you want?"

The mental image sent a wave of arousal through me but no, that was absolutely not what I wanted. "No, sir, I'm sorry, I'll do better, sir, I promise."

I was released and immediately set to my task. I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock, sucking gently as my hands moved on the rest. Slowly taking more and more into my mouth, I was rewarded with a sharp inhale as he hit the back of my mouth. I hollowed my cheeks and dragged back, hand jerking up and down coated in spit.

Doing my absolute best, I tried to get him to the edge of orgasm- if he wanted to come, he could. If not, I'd get further manhandled. Either way, it was a win for me.

Connor's thighs shook very slightly, and he pulled me off his cock, breathing heavy. "See, when you put your mind to it you can be a good little slut." He pushed his chair back and stood, offering a hand to me. I grasped it with my own shaky hand, mind fuzzy with submission and from standing up a little too fast.

I stumbled a little as I stood. Connor paused, hands coming to my cheeks. "Hey, lovely, you okay?"

I gave him a dopey grin. "Yeah, I'm all good." For a moment, a soft smile graced his lips and he pressed his lips to my forehead.

In an instant, his face hardened and I was being pulled firmly by the wrists, both in one of his hands. I was shoved in the direction of the floor again, ending up kneeling at the side of the bed. Connor stalked over to the wardrobe, withdrawing a box I knew well. He removed a set of handcuffs.

"Hands out."

Obediently, I showed him my hands, allowing him to snap the cuffs around my wrists.

"Get on the bed, forearms and knees, facing the pillows."

A little difficult to do considering the handcuffs, but I managed it will a small amount of grace.

I shivered as his hands smoothed over my ass, feeling the flimsy panty material shifting against my skin. From the feel of the mattress I knew he was kneeling behind me. Connor's hands moved from my ass to my hips, tracing the waistband of my underwear and running up my stomach. My breath caught as he took my tits in his grip over the babydoll lingerie, pulling slightly. I bit my lip at the feeling of the tulle moving against my hardened nipples.

Connor pulled away suddenly and I heard the rustle of material as he removed his t-shirt. "Now, babygirl, you were bad and distracted me, so I'm going to punish you, okay?" He didn't wait for a response, not that I had one. "You're going to kneel here, bent over on your forearms, ass up like a slut and I'm going to use this vibrator on you." Faint vibrations reached my ears and I felt my pussy gush, further soaking my panties. "You are not going to come, you will not move, you are going to behave and let me have my fun."

"Yes, sir."

"Good." And he touched the vibrator against me.

I swore loudly- the vibrations were already strong and I could feel the urge to push my hips back against it surge through me. By some miracle I held still, feeling the tip of the toy tracing up and down my pussy. Every so often, it would touch my clit and I would tense every muscle in my abdomen trying to stay still.

Eyes wide, I realised I recognised the exact toy Connor now held; not only was it one of my favourite vibrators, it was a dark purple dildo. The head of it nuzzled against my thighs and I pleaded with Connor in my head to put it in me.

A dark chuckle came from the man in question. "Wow, I could see the exact moment you realised what I'm holding- your panties are fucking soaked, you wanna get fucked so bad."

There was never any doubt, I thought.

He removed the toy and I whined, thankful he didn't tell me to be quiet- he only ever asked me to not move or not make a sound, never both.

Cold fingers dragged over my wobbly thighs, venturing under my panties and pulling them to mid-thigh. His finger swiped through my folds, and I could feel my slick spread over my skin.

"Shit, you're such a slut to get off on this- I know you want to get fucked properly but that ain't happening yet." Instead, he just rested the dildo on my pussy, having turned the vibrations off. "Tell me how badly you want this, how you're so much of a whore you'll take a fake dick when you could have a real one."

I could feel my blood flood my face with shame and excitement.

"Please, please, sir, I want it so fucking much, I need something inside me, I'm such a slut I don't care what, I just need to be filled, I'm so empty, sir, please give me your fake cock!"

A deep, rough groan came from Connor and I thrilled to know I'd affected him just as badly as his words affected me. Slowly, so painfully slowly, he inched the dildo inside me. I moaned, long and low, relishing in the feeling of finally being filled even if it was tortuously slow.

I felt when it was fully inside me, Connor's hands splayed across my ass, admiring the view of my stuffed pussy. "Fuck, your pussy looking fucking gorgeous, made to be filled with fake cock."

His fingers closed round the base of it and just as slowly as he'd pushed it in, he began pulling it out. I whined and panted at the feeling, immediately hating the emptiness. "I know, I know, my little whore wants to be screwed with the dildo, I know." He pressed a kiss to my pussy as he took it out completely. Somehow I managed not to move beyond the barest twitch of my hips. "You did so well, staying still, I knew you could be a good slut, my well behaved babygirl. You needed to be punished, so what do you say?"

I keened under the praise. "T-thank you, sir, thank you, thank you for punishing me."

I earned another kiss to my dripping pussy. "You're welcome, babygirl. You want it back in?"

My back arched against the feeling of the slick toy touching my folds again. "Y-yes, gods, p-please, I ne-ed it!"

Connor pushed the toy back in and I moaned, eyes screwed tight. It was still too slow, I was so worked up from the toy and his words, the urge to come was restless at the back of my mind. "Sir, pl-please, fuck me, I-I want to be f-fucked with the fake cock."

He swatted my leg. "What, I'm not going fast enough? Ungrateful slut."

I felt him move away from me and I made a pathetic sobbing noise as he left the dildo half-in, half-out. "No, no no no, I'm so sorry, I-I'm so sorry, sir, please please please don't stop, thank you for using the toy on me, please keep going, sir, I'm so sorry-"

I was cut off when Connor rammed the rest of the dildo into me, letting out choked sounds as the speed he was using the toy increased dramatically. The air was punched out of me as he fucked it in and out of my pussy.

"This what you want, huh? You wanted it faster, how's this?" He spat out the words, never ceasing his movements. My body rocked back and forth on the bed, unsteady on my hands and forearms. I shook out some kind of thanks that quickly got lost when Connor switched the vibration back on.

Coherency was beyond me and I could only try and balance and take it as Connor fucked me hard and harsh with the toy. My stomach tightened, hips shaking and I yelled out pleas, begging him to let me come, I was gonna come, fuck, please, let me come, sir, I've been so fucking good, sir, please!

The vibrations stopped and the toy was taken out in one swift movement. I screamed in frustration, tears pricking at my eyes. Connor slapped my thigh, leaving a bright red handprint. "Be quiet, whore, you'll come when I say you can come." I saw the dildo tossed to land near the pillows and I flushed harder when I could see the light glinting off it, my slick coating it so thick the light reflected. The noise of a condom wrapper caught my attention.

Connor arranged himself so his legs were pressed against mine, hard cock resting on my pussy. "You want to beg so badly, beg for my dick, hm? Beg for me to fuck you, since you want to use your whore mouth for something other than sucking cock."

I rutted my hips back against him. "Fuck, please sir, I am begging you to fuck me, I need you to use me, stuff my pussy with your cock, I need you so fucking bad, please, sir!"

He pulled back slightly and I felt his fingers brush my ass as he gripped his cock. "Good enough, I suppose." In one swift movement, he sheathed himself in me to the hilt. My back arched, arms slipping on the sheets and splaying out in front of me, handcufs digging into my skin. I screamed and felt Connor grasp my hips tight enough to leave bruises. He stayed still for a moment and I was gratified to know that he was as close to the edge as I was.

Finally, fucking finally, he started fucking me properly. His hips slammed into my ass with each thrust and I revelled in the feeling of a real cock, longer and thicker than the dildo. Nothing would ever be as good as him fucking me for real.

"Such good fucking pussy," Connor panted. "My slut looking so fucking beautiful like this, taking me so well, got me so close without even touching me, fuck."

A shiver raced up my spine and I whined, words no longer an option as all I could do was let him use me the way I had begged him to. I knew when he was close when his breathing began to stutter, hips losing their rhythm.

A single finger came to circle my clit. "Come with me, pretty little whore, come with me, you've held out for so long, I'm so proud of you, you can come."

That was all I needed, my orgasm crashing into me and overwhelming every sensation. Connor swore loudly, hips flush against me as he came, emptying himself into the condom.

He bent over me, pressing kisses to my spine as we caught our breaths. Carefully, he pulled out of me, hand smoothing over my abused skin in apology when I hissed in overstimulation. I flopped onto my side and for the first time in a while I saw my wonderful boyfriend, removing the condom and blowing me a kiss as he hopped the bathroom.

It was only a few seconds later when he returned with a damp towel. He rested it on the bed beside me as he undid the handcuffs, pressing his lips to the red lines they'd left. He helped me sit up and kissed me properly.

I melted, exhausted arms coming to rest on his shoulders, sighing into his mouth as he ran the towel down my body, cleaning most of the mess we'd made.

Despite his own shaking limbs, he managed to pick me up and sit me in the bath. He ran a bath for me, water the perfect temperature, and he took the time to wash my hair and massage my shoulders.

Slowly, we made it to bed, window open to let a cool breeze clear the room.

Connor pecked my forehead as he held me in his arms. "Hey, how are you doing?"

I took stock- my limbs were wonderfully exhausted and hadn't stopped shaking, there was a pleasant ache in my pussy and I was very close to sleep.

"I'm amazing."

-------------------------------------

ngl i lost control of this lol anyway thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoyed!

[witchyaeris]

A Light Touch

Pairing: Izzy Hands x Reader

Word Count: 2095

Warnings: Smut, sub!Izzy and dom!reader, fem!reader , pain play, fingering, explicit sex

Synopsis: Izzy's been taking out his anger at Blackbeard's new relationship on the crew. You think maybe he just needs to get laid and offer to take his mind off things.

A/N: Long-time reader, first-time writer. I am also a lesbian so constructive criticism is very much appreciated. This little man has infested my mind, and I saw a TikTok that said he probably cries during sex so here it is. Babygirl Izzy in all his whiney glory.

Sequel: A Firm Hand

The boat rocks underneath you as the snores of your crewmates continue to keep you awake. Normally, you’d be snoring along with them but the past few days have been tense; Stede and Ed have been getting closer and Izzy’s been more vicious than usual. You roll your eyes and pick up your threadbare blanket and half empty pillow when Wee John lets out a particularly earth rattling one.

With nowhere else to go, you clamber up to the deck and go to find a clean nook to sleep in when out of the corner of your eyes you see a shadow. The moon is waning, but bright enough to illuminate the deck and the other side of the boat, behind a mast, you see a person. Dropping to the floor in suspicion, you slink around to make sure it's not an intruder. You grip your knife, and jump out at them, ready to kill the fucker. 

Shit. It’s Izzy. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” he spits out before you can even lower your knife.

“I’m so sorry, I thought everyone was asleep and you were a murderer coming to kill us.”

“Why-” He stops before he finishes the thought and shakes his head.

“Why are you up here? It’s late.” He sighs, turning away from you and going back to leaning on the edge of the Revenge.

“Needed a place to sleep and it’s nice out tonight. Could ask you the same thing.”

His shoulders tense and his ungloved hands visibly tighten in the faint light. He stays quiet and you study him for a moment . He has on his signature black, but is in a state of undress. His waistcoat is gone and his tanned chest is slightly exposed underneath his blouse. No longer wearing his tight leather outfit or brandishing his sword he looks smaller to you, less menacing. Strands of hair fall on his face and the lack of sleep is clear from the dark circles underneath his eyes.

“Nothing. Do what you want, I’ll head to bed soon.” Izzy says dismissively.

You begin to turn on your heel when something makes you stop. As much of an asshole as he is, it’s clear he’s heartbroken and agitated. Not to mention letting loose may remove the stick firmly lodged up his ass. The wood of the Revenge creaks as you take a step closer to him and reach over to touch his shoulder. You chew your lip and make gentle contact, which he jumps at. His head whips to look at you and notice his brows furrow in confusion, frown deepening.

“I thought I told you to fuck off.” He huffs, bothered that his midnight brooding has been interrupted again.

“Listen.. I know we may not be best friends-” you begin as he scoffs at you.

“And I don’t presume to know about your relationship with Blackbeard. But! I can tell something has been bothering you.” 

His eyes harden in suspicion, jaw clenching at his captain’s mention. You step closer to him and put your hand back on his shoulder. His eyes flicker to your hand and then to your chest for a second, where your slightly opened shirt reveals large breasts unconstrained by the corset you normally wear. The bob in his Adam's apple is all the encouragement you need as your hand begins to fall from his shoulder and down his arm.

“When’s the last time you slept a full night? Or thought about anything other than him? We’ve all been on edge, Izzy.” You say looking into his deep green eyes.

He looks away and laughs joylessly. “And what can you do about it?”

You step close enough to smell his leathery woody musk and look into his eyes once more. Your hands fall on his chest as you lean in to kiss him half expecting to be yelled at or stabbed. Izzy freezes initially, thinking it’s a ploy before returning the kiss, hard. Your head is pushed back by the force momentarily before he grabs the back of your neck with both his hands. It’s needy and a mess of teeth and tongue, one of your hands holding his forearm to stay balanced. When you part, his pupils are blown out and his hands stay on your neck, cupping your jaw.

“Follow me.” He commands in his gravelly voice, stepping back and turning around quickly hoping you wouldn’t be able to see tent in his trousers. You could.

Both of you tiptoe throughout the ship before he opens the door to his room and pulls you in quickly. His room is nice; the size of Olu and Jim’s. The covers are messy and you notice the distinct lack of decoration. It’s bare except for some papers and extra weapons laying around. 

“You sure about this?” He asks as he sits down on the edge of the bed untying his shoes. 

You swear you see him fumble in excitement when you tell him “Fuck yes.”

Once you remove your shoes, you begin to shrug off your blouse when you notice Izzy staring. 

“Hurry up.” you say with a smile as you slip off your underwear, savoring the power you hold over him.

 By the time you finish undressing, he’s waiting patiently by the end of the bed, gripping and releasing the sheets. His legs are spread and you can finally get a proper look. His cock is wider than average and so hard it looks painful. The tip is already leaking precum and you wonder how long it’s been for him. Once you’re at the edge of the bed you get him to lay back with a push to the chest and straddle him. His tanned body is hard and muscular, scars from hundreds of battles covering his chest and stomach. His hands are roaming everywhere, kneading your thighs, pushing the hair from your face, using his thumbs to play with your nipples. He hisses when you grab his dick and all but sees heaven when you push the tip in. As you slowly sink onto him, his hands grip your hips tight enough to leave bruises and you hear the smallest whimper coming from his mouth.

“I don’t know how long I can last.” he gasps, looking up at you.

You lean forward far enough that his graying hair scratches your cheek as you whisper “I’ve got all night, Iz.” 

You feel his cock twitch at the thought as you lift your hips for moment before being filled completely. His moans and gasps fill the room as you ride faster, relishing the sensation. Gripping you closer, he whines in your kiss, desperate to be touched 

“I need to cum, please.” He groans, wrapping his arms around you and taking a nipple in his mouth. 

“Inside,” you gasp. “Cum for me, Izzy” you say as your fingers tangle in his hair and your hips meet his. He pushes you down onto him as his dick releases ropes of cum, hips stuttering until he’s empty. In a daze, he lifts his head from your nipple and releases his vice like grip on your body. His dick softens, but he keeps you locked on his lap, reluctant to let you move an inch.

“Such a good boy.” You smirk and grab his chin roughly. He blinks lazily up at you, and sweaty from exertion. 

 “You act so vicious and violent but you really just want to be ruined don’t you? Made to submit through pleasure… or pain.”

Almost immediately as the word leaves your lips his entire body tenses under you with a sharp inhale. Pushing his head to the side, you lick a stripe from his collarbone to his neck eliciting a shiver before you plant a kiss on his shoulder and bite hard enough to leave a mark. Izzy’s voice is hoarse as he moans your name, his hips bucking into you harshly before his hands fly to your waist to hold you in place. Lifting your hips to slide off his cock, you lay on the bed next to him as he catches his breath. You turn towards each other and his hand reaches out to hold your face as you kiss. As the kiss deepens, you feel him get between your legs, dick bobbing against his stomach in anticipation.

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.” He says looking down on you, getting a good look at the glistening folds dripping a mixture of his and your cum. 

He positions the tip and your entrance and watches enraptured as you slowly swallow up his dick, your heat almost burning. He wastes no time and starts pumping inside you as hard as he can. In this angle, he’s hitting your g-spot, tightening the knot in your stomach with every thrust. One hand is holding your leg above his shoulder while the other is rubbing your pussy; which he’s being surprisingly gentle with considering how vicious he’s pounding into you. Your moans are reaching a crescendo when you put your arms around him and dig your nails in his flesh. The reaction is immediate, he lets out the most pathetic noise you’ve ever heard before dropping his head on your chest and slowing his thrusts.

“ Aww, that was adorable Izzy.” you say as you pull your nails down quickly leaving scratches along his back.

“You’re so pretty like this, singing from my touches and absolutely falling apart. I’d like to keep you.”

“Please.” He whispers before reaching his hand back down to your clit. 

His punishing pace resumes while his fingers bring you closer to orgasm. His eyes don’t leave your body for a second, enraptured, memorizing every detail. How your tits bounce with every thrust, the flush on your cheeks, the way you fit together perfectly. Your hands tangle into the sheets behind you as you shout a chorus of “Oh God” and “Yes Izzy, more”.

He pulls out all the way before slamming his full length and hips into you, intent on your pleasure. At once you feel the knot snap and your entire body jerks as you feel the most earth shattering orgasm you’ve had in years. Spots dance around your vision before you can remember to breathe. Izzy is right after you, spilling inside you with a sob as your muscles squeeze him tighter. Your moans intermingle as you come down and he grabs your face to kiss you before he pulls out. Tear tracks all over his face, you wipe them away gently, thumbing the x on his cheek.

He’s not gone for long as you feel him begin to kiss your inner thigh, his gray goatee tickling the sensitive skin. You can hear him growl as he inhales your scent, placing slow, gentle kisses near your core.

“May I?” He asks, looking up at you for approval before diving in. He was licking like a madman, eager to taste every drop of you. You grab fistfuls of his hair while he drinks you and holds you tightly in place. You’re almost screaming his name as his fingers curl inside you and his tongue finds your clit, already sensitive and swollen. You buck uncontrollably into his mouth, his eyes watch your every move, unable and unwilling to look away. When you finally reach your breaking point, your whole body tenses and the release is indescribable. The floor is pulled out from under you and Izzy eagerly laps up your cum, groaning every time your hands tighten on his hair.

You lay panting for a moment before he gets a cloth to clean you up with. Gently, he wipes the sweat of your brow and cleans the mess you made of each other. As you stand up to get dressed, he quickly bends down to swipe at something where he was kneeling before grabbing his trousers. He came while eating me out? God, this is going to be fun.

Turning to look at each other at the same time, it's quiet for a moment. 

“I guess I’ll go back to the deck.” you say with a small smile.

“Stay… If you like.” he mumbles in his deep voice, too embarrassed to look at you after being so vulnerable. 

He gets into bed and you climb in next to him, blowing out the lamp before he lays his head on your chest.

“Thank you.” he whispers, hands sneaking into your shirt to wrap his arm around your skin. You kiss the top of his head and run a hand through his hair before sleep takes both you.

[writing-wh0re]

Billy Hargrove smut where he rough fucks reader in his car 🤤🤤

All writings will be #writing-wh0re-requests  Likes are great but feedback is golden - Open to all feedback, I know there is room for improvement. 

Hope this fic is what you wanted Anon! Keep the requests coming xx

*FIRST SMUT FIC!!* 

Y/N (YOUR NAME) Y/S/N (Your Siblings Name)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x reader

Word Count: 2,111k 

Warnings: Smut 18+, Explicit Language, Daddy Kink (whoops), Slight Praise Kink, Fingering, Vaginal Intercourse, Unprotected Sex, Oral (female receiving), Angst(?), Arguments. 

Summary: After forgetting your three year anniversary, Billy attempts to make it up to you.

I was walking down the street, hearing the music pumping through the wind as I spotted it. 

Billy’s blue 1979 Camaro sitting in Carol Perkins driveway. I made my way up to the car, feeling the hood still warm, meaning Billy couldn’t have been here for that long. 

“Fucking prick.” I mumble as I start my shuffle and weave through fellow classmates to find Billy. 

“Y/N, Billy didn’t mention you’d be coming? If I had known I would have sent you a dress code sheet.” Carol Perkins states holding her red solo cup against her shoulder. I look down on my outfit quickly, black converse, leather skirt and dark green lace bodysuit. I raise an eyebrow as I look at  Carol’s outfit, sucking my teeth as I roll my eyes. 

Carol drives me insane, she hasn’t liked me from the minute Billy and I started dating and to be honest, the feeling is mutual. Between her bitchy comments and her backhanded compliments, I couldn’t care less about her. 

“Dress code sheets would have been handy because under dressing as a hostess is embarrassing.” I watch as Carol scoffs, looking at Nicole beside her who has a disgust written all over her facial expression. 

“Drink, Drink, Drink, Drink.”

I follow the chanting to the back patio, leaving Carol and Nicole to mumble between themselves. I spot Billy doing his famous keg stand, surrounded by almost all the boys from the football team cheering him on. I watch as Billy completes his keg stand, his shirt open, beer coating his chest causing it to glisten in the light. I lick my lips at the sight, feeling wetness starting to pool between my legs, I shake the thoughts from my head. 

‘Remember why you’re mad at him.’ I remind myself, disliking that my body has such a reaction to him.

I watch as a girl walks up to him, placing her hand on his chest as she whispers in his ear, causing him to bite his lip and chuckle. I lean against the support beam as I watch the scene unfold, Billy turning the girl down as she rolls her eyes and attempts a new technique, only to receive the same result. The girl struts away annoyed as I walk over to Billy, watching as he tenses slightly, knowing he’s fucked up. 

“Hi princess, what ar-” 

“Fuck you Billy Hargrove.” Billy, grabs my forearm and pulls me into him, our chests bumping into each other as he narrows his eyes at me, smirking devilishly. 

“Want to say that again princess?” 

I pull myself out of his grip as I shove him backwards, causing him to chuckle as he looks over to Tommy. 

“I think she’s mad at me, don’t you think Hagan?” Billy chuckles as I whip around to Tommy, holding my index finger up. 

“If you know what’s good for you Hagan, you’ll walk away.” I threaten as Tommy shakes his head at us, putting his hands up in defense and walking back to the house. 

“Honestly Billy, I had to find out you were here from Y/S/N and Max!” 

“That’s the last time I tell Max anything.” Billy says walking towards me as I huff. 

“Not the point, do you remember what today is? Does today have any importance to you?” 

I watch as Billy puts his head down sighing shuffling around in his pocket as he pulls out a cigarette lighting it and taking a draw before answering me. 

“Did you fail a huge test today? Is it a birthday?” Billy questions as I scoff. 

“God, you’re such a prick you know that.” I turn to walk away from Billy feeling sadness fill my chest as I see a small crowd watching our interaction. 

“So what, you’re just not going to tell me why you’re mad at me? I have to play some sort of guessing game? Why did you even come here Y/N, you hate parties.” 

“I think you’re just being a dick on purpose now, have a reputation to keep up?” I question gesturing to the small crowd. “It’s our fucking three year anniversary dickwad!” I yell watching as realisation hits Billy. “And also, I don’t hate parties, I hate parties at Carol’s or parties I'm not invited to, which makes me, us, look fucking ridicolous.” 

I hear a few oo’s and oh’s from the small crowd as Billy forms two fists, anger boiling inside him. 

“Enjoying the show? Get the fuck out of here!” Billy yells to the crowd as they quickly disperse. “Princess, Tommy invited me tonight and I forgot.” 

“That’s exactly what I want to hear, you forgot.” I cross my arms over my chest watching as Billy’s eyes trail over my chest, his eyes lingering as they track down my body, Billy closing the distance between us as he runs his fingers up and down my arm. 

“Did you wear this, all for me?” Billy asks seductively as goosebumps prick my skin, a soft sigh falling from my lips. Billy moves closer, his lips ghosting mine as I feel my eyes flutter closed. 

‘No.’ I think to myself as I pull back. 

“Enjoy your party Billy.” I hear Billy groan in annoyance as I turn to walk away, feeling him grab my hand and rush ahead of me, pulling me behind him. 

“Billy.” 

“What are you doing?” 

All my protests fall on deaf ears as Billy and I shuffle through the bodies and make it outside. 

“Get in.” I raise an eyebrow and notice Billy unlock his car as I scoff. 

“I’ll walk home.” 

“It wasn’t a fucking question Y/N, get in the car and stop being a brat.” I huff as I walk to the passenger side and slip into the leather seat, Billy falling into the drivers as he starts the car and reverses out. 

“You better be taking me home.” 

I hear him chuckle as he takes the corners fast, his car engine roaring through the streets as he continues to drive, my mind not knowing the surroundings due to the blanket of darkness. After roughly five minutes, he parks the car on the side of the deserted back road, between a small clearing of trees. Billy gets out of the car as I look around at our surroundings, nothing but trees, silence and darkness. He opens my door as I look up at him confused. 

“Get in the back.” 

I smirk, licking my lips as I sit forward in my seat slightly, giving Billy the perfect view of my cleavage. “You expect us to have sex here?” I question as Billy huffs, grabbing my wrist and pulling me up to his chest. 

“I have to make it up to you babygirl, now get in the backseat.” 

I open the door and crawl into the backseat, sitting and facing the open door as Billy grabs ahold of my ankles from my outstretched legs, swiftly pulling me closer to him. I feel my breath quicken as he takes off his button up shirt, exposing his toned torso as I bite my lip. I keep my eyes on him as he wiggles my skirt to just above my hips, chuckling to himself as I feel heat cover my cheeks. 

“And I wonder who made you drip like this baby girl.” Billy says as his index finger traces over the dark green lace of the body suit as a small whimper falls from my lips. 

“I asked you a question.” 

“You did daddy.” I whisper as he smirks, kissing my inner thighs, ghosting over my heat as I sigh. 

“Good girl.” 

I feel Billy pull the lace bodysuit to the side as his finger traces small circles around my clit, causing soft moans to fill the air. 

“You can be as loud as you want princess, no one is around to hear us.” 

Billy slides a finger into my tight, dripping pussy as I cup my boobs toying with my nipples. He picks up the pace slightly, adding another finger and curling it upwards as I arch my back. 

“Fuck.” 

I hear Billy moan as his tongue slides over my throbbing clit, my back arching off the leather as I moan in pleasure, my fingers running through his hair as he continues to flick his tongue on my sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“Jesus Daddy.” I moan as we lock eyes with each other, causing Billy to moan sending vibrations all over my clit, his fingers picking up their pace. I feel Billy wrap his lips around my swollen clit, sucking softly as I feel the coil inside me tighten as I get closer and closer to my release. 

“Just like that, oh fuck, I’m going to cum.” I warn as Billy stops abruptly, smirking at me as I groan in annoyance at the loss of pleasure. 

“You only get to cum on my dick baby girl.” 

I run my hand down my body to play with my clit, wanting to get back to feeling some sort of pleasure as Billy slaps my hand away. I watch as he swiftly takes off his belt, undoing his jeans and sliding them down only slightly, allowing his dick to spring free, slapping against his stomach as I lick my lips. 

“Move back.” Billy instructs as I shuffle backwards eagerily, allowing for him to get into the car. 

Billy kneels on the leather seat, pulling me closer by my hips as he lines himself up against my pussy, sliding right into place as moans fill the air of the car. 

“Fucking made for me.” Billy praises as he starts to move his hips, not giving me much time to adjust to his size. 

“God, you’re so fucking big.” I moan as Billy raises my legs up to rest against his chest, feet either side of his face, the new angle allowing for him to go deeper. 

Billy picks up his pace, throwing his head back in pleasure as I arch my back. 

“Fuck Y/N.” 

“Daddy.” 

Billy lets go of my legs as he slides out, grabbing my hips as I raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Ass up.” Billy commands as I oblige, turning over, face against the leather, ass in the air as Billy slaps the supple skin. “God, you’re hot.” He praises as I moan softly, feeling him run the tip of his dick around in circles on my clit before sliding deep into my pussy. “Fuck, you’re so tight baby.” 

I moan into the leather as Billy starts to rock his hips into mine, faster and deeper in the new position. 

“Just like that.” I say as Billy grabs a fistfull of my hair, pulling me up slightly as he rubs circles on my clit causing me to cry out in pleasure.

“Are you going to cum for me princess? Cover my dick in cum?” 

I feel the coil tighten again, my eyes squeezing shut as I finally feel it snap, my body flooding with tingles as I cum all over Billy’s dick, my legs trembling as moans and profanities fall from my lips. I feel Billy’s thrusts grow sloppy as he reaches his high, cumming inside of me. 

Billy trails kisses from the top of my ass to my shoulder. 

“Happy Anniversary Princess.” Billy whispers, kissing my neck as he shuffles out of the car to adjust his clothing. 

I shuffle around in the car, wiggling my skirt back down and fixing my body suit as I step out of the car into the slight breeze of summer air. 

“I am still mad at you a little.” I mumble as Billy tuts, shaking his head. 

“Of course you are.” 

“But, that did make up for a little part of it.” I wink as Billy smirks, cupping my face and kissing me. My heart fills with love at the soft affectionate side of Billy.

“I love you Y/N.” 

“I love you too.” 

“I better get you home before your dad loses his shit at me.” Billy chuckles as I nod. 

“Sneak up through the window and spend the night?” I ask as I get into the passenger seat, Billy having made his way to the drivers side. I watch as Billy tosses up the idea as I smirk, placing my hand on his knee. 

“I haven’t been able to give you anything for our anniversary yet.” I whisper as my hand moves up his thigh, brushing against his dick as his breathing grows heavy. 

“You have me wrapped around your finger princess and you know it.” Billy smirks as he starts the car and begins the drive to my home. 

It’s going to be a sleepless night. 

[bubbleteaimagines]

Pep Talk

Bokuto Koutaro Oneshot

Summary: In which you give your boyfriend just the pep talk he needs, or in which Bokuto fucks his favorite cheerleader right before a big game

Pairings: Bokuto Koutarou x Cheerleader!Reader

Warnings: Smut, praise, Bokuto has a thing for cheer uniforms...? Unprotected sex

There was just something about you on game day that always drove Bokuto wild. Maybe it was your smile, maybe it was the pretty way you styled your hair, or maybe it was-

Oh who was he kidding.

The best part about you on game day was the way you always cheered the loudest for him, and that uniform.

That damned uniform that drove Bokuto absolutely wild every time he saw it. He couldn’t help it- with that tiny little skirt and tight top, it was impossible not to be attracted to you.

It was 1 out of 37 of his weaknesses. Put you in his proximity and Bokuto would faulter due to the way his thoughts immediately turned dirty.

That fact alone was precisely why you were being dragged into a random bathroom by your boyfriend, giggles escaping your lips as you cautiously looked over your shoulder.

“Bokuto are you sure this is a good idea?” You questioned as your boyfriend immediately plopped you on the sink, a wild look in his eyes as your skirt rode up just the tiniest bit.

“Are you kidding me? Baby, if I don’t fuck you now then I’ll never be able to focus out there,” His pink lips formed into a pout, making him look irresistible as he looked at you with shiny eyes. “You want me to win, don’t you babygirl?”

“Of course Bo,” You immediately nodded, causing your boyfriend to smile.

“Good. Then let me take care of you.”

In your entire two years of dating, you had known that Bokuto had never been a patient being. That was exactly why you weren’t surprised when he planted his lips on yours, capturing you into a messy kiss, his fingers immediately going to work.

First, he started by trailing them up and down your thighs, just ghosting over your skirt before deciding to drop a little lower. You gasped as his fingers began to explore your most sensitive territory, just barely padding over your clothed entrance before applying the slightest bit of pressure.

“So wet for me, already,” There was a grin a on Bokuto’s face as he pulled away from the kiss and observed the way your mouth dropped slightly. He could feel your arousal slowly building and the thought absolutely excited him.

Quickly, he began to kiss you again, but not before teasing you by prancing his fingers alongside your hips. He toyed with the hem of your panties for a second, and to signal your impatience, you wrapped your legs around him and hummed against his lips.

Please, take them off You mentally screamed at him, and Bokuto seemed to get the message because he quickly looped his fingers around the waistband and yanked them down.

The feeling of the cool counter coming into contact with your core had you gasping again, your boyfriend moaning as the bulge in his shorts grew tighter.

“Fuck, you look so pretty,” Once again, he pulled his lips away and took in the look of your plump, swollen lips, and the way your chest was rising and falling, eyes glazed over with lust. Just the sight of you mentally begging him to touch you had Bokuto riled up. He could barely contain himself as he leaned you back on the sink, your back touching the mirror as he gently spread your legs.

“Such a pretty girl,” He praised, sinking to his knees in order to admire your pretty pussy. Your heart fluttered in your chest at the hungry look in his golden eyes, looking like he couldn’t wait to devour you. And what do you know, it only took a few seconds for Bokuto to snap out of his trance, smiling at you before leaning in to taste his favorite meal.

“Fuck,” You moaned as his tongue came into contact with your dripping core, hips bucking at the electricity that went through your body. Bokuto’s tongue had always been magical, knowing exactly how to please you.

His lips immediately found your sensitive nub, sucking on it as his thick digits came to tease your folds. You moaned again as he glanced up to watch your face, satisfaction filling him at the pleasure that appeared once he slowly sunk a finger into your cunt.

“B-Baby,” You whimpered as he began to move, pumping in and out of your pussy at a steady rhythm. While his tongue carried on the assault on your clit, and his right hand took to pleasuring you, Bokuto used his left hand to reach up and yank on your crooked cheer top.

Nothing would make him happier than seeing your pretty little tits. You knew what he wanted, and so you quickly disposed of the item, throwing it god knows where as Bokuto hummed in satisfaction.

The vibrations against your pussy caused you to arch your back. With his relentless pace, you could that you were close. Bokuto could tell, too, as your walls began to clench around his fingers, little moans and whimpers escaping your lips.

“That’s it, let it go pretty girl,” He cooed, pulling away from your clit to watch in awe as his words sent you over the edge. Slapping a hand over your mouth, Bokuto came back up to hold you as you reached your high, a loud moan leaving your lips. You did everything you could to hide your face, burying yourself into the crook of his neck and biting his shoulder as you gushed all over his fingers.

“K-Kou,” Your boyfriend thought it was the hottest thing ever to hear you moan his name in his ears, shivers raking down his spine. He could tell you were shaking as you came down from your high, your body spent but that was just the beginning, Bokuto silently reminded you.

The hard-on in his volleyball shorts was painfully prominent, throbbing as he pressed against your bare pussy. You whined as Bokuto began to grind against you, still weak from your orgasm but he was desperate.

The game would be starting soon and Bokuto needed you. If he was gonna have any shot at doing well on the court then he needed to be buried inside of your pussy, and he couldn’t wait another minute.

Leaning down, he started sucking on your sweet spot as he held your trembling body and attempted to push the material of his shorts down. Bokuto had never been more grateful that Fukurodani had easy uniforms, as it only took a few second to free his aching cock.

You could sense his need as he pulled away from giving you lovebites and rested his forehead against yours. His pupils were blown, golden eyes absolutely wide and filled with lust. He was silently asking for your permission to fuck you, and once you nodded, spreading your legs wider just for him, Bokuto immediately wasted no time.

He gripped his cock and began to line himself up at your entrance, not even bothering to tease you as he pushed himself him. A low groan escaped his lips at the same time you moaned, your grip on his jersey tightening as he pushed himself in.

“Baby,” His eyes looked ready to roll in the back of his head, hips stilling as he grunted at the stretch. “You’d think...you’d think we hardly ever fuck from how tight you always are...”

A breathless giggle left your throat at his comment, quickly turning into a moan when he snapped his hips, slamming his thick cock right into you.

The way he absolutely filled you up was delicious, Bokuto rapidly beginning to pick up his pace to a quick one. Usually, he liked to take his time with you but now he had no choice. He had less than twenty minutes to get back on the court before someone -probably Akaashi- came looking for him. That meant that that you immediately fell victim to his powerful thrusts, Bokuto having to steady you with his body.

“God...have I ever...have I ever told you how much I love this pussy?” He asked, throwing his head back. His eyes were screwed shut in pure pleasure, his moans sounding like music to your ears. The way he fucked you was causing your own vision to be skewed, white spots appearing as Bokuto slammed into your sweet spot over and over again.

“Fuck, just like that Kou,” You held on for dear life as you were pounded into you, your back hitting the mirror repeatedly. All that you could hear in the bathroom was the sound of skin on skin, and the sweet moans both of you released.

From the way it was going, neither of you would last long. You both were too needy, too eager to hit your highs. And even though Bokuto had already made you cum once, you could feel it building up once again. Like a dam ready to release, Bokuto slowly pounded your walls until it broke.

Letting out a sudden cry, your body tensed up and you could feel yourself beginning to cream all over Bokuto’s cock. The action was sudden, your hands darting out for some type of support from your boyfriend. You were lucky that Bokuto was muscular enough to support the both of you, crying out as he reached his own orgasm.

The feeling of you wrapped around him, cumming just for him was too much. His hips came to a still as he groaned, the ace spilling himself inside of your pussy.

“Y-Y/N,” He was saying your name like it was a prayer, the word falling from his pretty lips effortlessly. All you could do was wrap yourself around him tighter, both of you faltering from your orgasms even though Bokuto somehow still had the strength to hold himself up.

“K-Kou,” You were convinced you weren’t gonna be able to walk by the time you came down from your high, your legs numb as your body shaking. Your back ached from repeatedly being slammed in the mirror behind you, but you supposed it was all worth it in order to see the grin on Bokuto’s face, well beyond satisfied as he came down from his own high.

“That was...” Bokuto moved his body away from yours in order to admire you. Your pussy puffy and swollen from his powerful thrusts, your lips plump, your legs still shaking from the intense pleasure and your chest still heaving as you tried to catch your breath. “Amazing.”

Yeah, it was amazing alright.

“You’re telling me,” You grinned back, your smile a little hazy. You looked so cute, all fucked out. Bokuto almost felt bad for having to send you back so you wouldn’t miss your warm-ups, either.

“Come on,” He grabbed some napkins from the dispenser and wet them in order to clean you both up. Then, he adjusted your clothing and held out his arms for you. Quizzically, you rose an eyebrow, and that was when you suddenly realized where exactly you were.

“We have to get back before our teams get suspicious,” Bokuto reminded you, causing your eyes to go wide.

“Shit!”

Your captain was totally gonna kill you! While you were in the bathroom quite literally fucking around, she was probably pissed and waiting for you on the court. All cheerleaders were supposed to be there an hour before to stretch. Now, you probably only had ten minutes at the max. “Yui is totally gonna kill me!”

“Well come on them,” Bokuto motioned to his arms again. “We can still get you back before she completely looses her shit,” He said.

You grimaced. “Yeah but...how am I supposed to cheer when I can barely feel my legs, Bo?”

“Oh.”

It seemed that in his horny pursuit Bokuto didn’t really think of the consequences. His favorite little cheerleader had now been absolutely ruined, barely able to walk as he helped you to the ground.

“Maybe...maybe I can tell her you were sick. You could sit this game out,” Bokuto offered, trying not to smirk at the way you hobbled towards the door, you uniform ever-so slightly crooked.

“You’d do that for me?” You turned to him and smiled.

“Well...what choice do I have?” Bokuto snickered. “I kinda ruined her best cheerleader.”

“Oh shut up!” You rolled your eyes and lightly pushed his shoulder, even though you knew he was right. “It’s not that bad!”

“Then why are you still holding onto the counter to walk?” Bokuto challenged.

You stayed quiet.

“Exactly,” He smirked. “But don’t worry princess- I know I fucked you good but I’m still gonna take care of you. Come on, lemme carry you.”

“No, you’re mean,” You pouted and leaned into the counter, crossing your arms. “Making fun of me after I just let you fuck me.”

“Awe Princess,” Bokuto chuckled at your scrunched up face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you.”

“Yes you did,” You stuck your tongue out at him. “...But I guess I have no choice.”

“Come on then,” Bokuto grinned as he scooped you up bridal style, effectively carrying you out of the bathroom in his arms. While exiting, a few passerby’s gave you guys weird looks for leaving the bathroom at the same time but Bokuto simply ignored them as you hid your face in his arms.

“Princess? You can look now- we’re on the court,” Bokuto chuckled at your embarrassed figure, stopping on the edge of the arena and placing you down. Immediately, he could see the heated stares of his teammates and your captain causing you both to wince.

“See you after the game, yeah? And good luck,” You grinned up at him as your captain began stomping over, profanities already forming on her lips. However, you ignored her and instead focused on Bokuto, who nodded and leaned down to give you a quick kiss.

“Thanks for the pep talk babe,” He beamed and winked down at you, pulling you into one last hug before stalking off. You could already hear Akaashi’s curious voice and the sound of Bokuto making up some excuse. Meanwhile, you had to deal with an angry Yui but you supposed it was all worth once you watched Bokuto play-

From on the sidelines, of course.

[tchallasbabymama]

Don't Forget About Us

Hello, my lovelies. Here’s my contribution to @nahimjustfeelingit-writes smut challenge (the prompt is in bold!) Let’s see what Erik’s up to now, shall we?

Don’t forget to check out my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots. Your comments and reblogs mean the world to me, so make sure to let me know what you think! And let me know if you want to be tagged in any of my writing. Enjoy😘

Word count: 5,595

CW: smut...duh.

“So, what do you do for a living?”

Kayla sighed internally at the question and took a sip of her Pinot Grigio. She hated first dates with a burning passion, but unfortunately, that was the only way to find a man around here. She went through the motions of politely answering his questions, barely asking any of her own. She didn’t care. Even just fifteen minutes in, Kayla could tell he didn’t excite her, and she lamented the waste of a good outfit as she listened to him drone on about his life. Every now and then, he’d stop and ask a question about her, but she could tell he was only asking so he could talk more about himself.

How many siblings do you have?

What’s your sign?

Why did your last relationship end?

Her mind traveled to her ex-boyfriend, Erik Stevens. They had spent six blissful years together, and Kayla thought he was the one. She wanted them to get married and start a family, and she thought he did, too, but every time she brought it up, he’d find some excuse to change the subject. At thirty years old, Kayla wasn’t getting any younger, so she grew tired of his avoidance and eventually cut him loose. She needed more out of life, but the guy currently sitting across from her certainly wasn’t it.

“We wanted different things,” she answered vaguely and took another sip. It would be a long night with what’s-his-name. David? Devon? Whatever. At least he had money and took her to a nice restaurant.

Darryl took the opportunity to bore her with the details of his job, which Kayla already knew. He was a colleague of her best friend, Carina’s husband. They worked at the same law firm, and Carina decided to hook them up after tiring of hearing Kayla complain about dating apps. As much as Kayla hated Tinder, she would’ve much rather been at home on her couch swiping left on the cesspool of single men Oakland had to offer. Every few dozen swipes or so, she’d find a cutie, but his bio would be abysmal, or his conversation skills would fall flat.

Despite the fact that their relationship just couldn’t make it, Kayla still thought of Erik as the gold standard. Just thinking about his dimples and his struggle beard made her smile dreamily. His big, strong arms would wrap around her and hold her tight at night, and she’d trace her fingers over the intentionally placed keloid scars that held his darkest secrets. She missed retwisting his locs and the way he always smelled like sandalwood and warm vanilla. Kayla didn’t want to admit it, but she still loved him. No man could compare to her Erik.

“Hello? Kayla?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. Can you repeat that last part?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. What’s got you so distracted, babygirl?”

Kayla fought the bile rising in her throat. She wasn’t his babygirl. It didn’t even sound right coming from his mouth. Maybe it was the thinness of his lips. They weren’t “white man” thin, but they couldn’t hold a candle to the juicy pussy pleasers she had grown accustomed to.

“Nothing, just thought I saw somebody I know. You were saying?”

“Just that you look beautiful tonight,” Damon attempted to flirt with her.

Kayla wanted to roll her eyes but thanked him instead and smiled politely again. Of course she looked beautiful; she had pulled out all the stops for what she had hoped would be a good night out. Kayla had squeezed her thickness into a lavender satin dress. The way the dress’s skirt cinched on the side kept it snug around her plush waist, but the high slit that traveled up her thigh was the main attraction. The strappy silver heels on her feet showed off her matching pedicure that contrasted beautifully with her glistening brown skin, and her makeup was flawless. Her outerwear for the night, a cropped fur jacket that had found its way to the coat check when they arrived, was the icing on the cake. Her outfit deserved the appreciation, just not from Deshawn.

The waiter saved her from having to focus on her date when she brought out the food they had ordered. Since Kayla knew Derek had money, she had ordered the whole lobster, and she fought her mouth from drooling too much as the waiter set it down in front of her. It laid on a bed of forbidden rice, and the side of roasted brussels sprouts and cremini mushrooms looked heavenly. The ramekin of drawn butter off to the side tempted her as it sat next to the minuscule seafood fork. She may not enjoy her company for the evening, but Kayla damn sure was going to enjoy her meal.

“Looks good,” Dominic called from the other side of the table, breaking Kayla from her trance as he cut into his wagyu beef.

“Sure does.” Kayla wasted no time before digging into her meal. Not only was it the perfect excuse to avoid conversation, but it was perfect, period.

A slight chill permeated the air as the door swung open and the crisp January air entered the small restaurant. Kayla shivered as she complained internally about being forced to sit near the door, but that shiver intensified as she heard a voice. His voice.

“Reservation for Stevens, please.”

Kayla stilled.

“Of course. Right this way, sir,” the maitre d’ responded, and Kayla heard three sets of footsteps coming her way.

--------

“Babe, let’s go!”

“Yell at me one more time, woman,” Erik warned as he came around the corner into the living room, fastening his watch.

“I swear, you take more time getting ready than I do.”

“Whatever, Mo. You ready?”

“Nigga, I been ready!”

Erik rolled his eyes and grabbed his keys. It would be a rough night, and things were already starting off on a bad foot. He and Monique had been seeing each other for the better part of a year, and he’d finally reached his limit. She was overbearing, rude, and just after him for his money, but he hated being alone, so he put up with her bullshit. His cousin, T’Challa, had tried to hook him up with a few ladies back in Wakanda when he went to visit after his breakup, but nothing stuck. Almost immediately after coming back to the states, Erik met Monique at a charity event for the Outreach Center. She had the singing voice of an angel and had been booked as the entertainment for the evening. Erik was drawn to her like a sailor to a siren, and she immediately sank her teeth into him. Past her vocal talents, Monique wasn’t really anything special. Her personality left a lot to be desired, she wasn’t the sharpest crayon in the box, and she just wasn’t her.

The moment Kayla ended their relationship a year ago, Erik’s whole world shattered. He had lived a life full of pain and loss, but Kayla had been his lifeline. She pulled him out of the dark and made him revel in the sunshine. Hell, she was the sunshine, but now he had settled for a UV lamp at best. Kayla had wanted a life that Erik was too scared to give her, but that fear became his downfall. He still missed her most nights. He was lonely, and Monique was there to keep him company, but that wasn’t enough for him anymore. Erik craved a connection that Monique just couldn’t provide. So he decided he had to break it off and figured that doing so in a public place would probably be best. She had a tendency to throw things when she got angry.

The car ride to Chez Martine was tense. Monique had been angry all day because Erik had taken back his credit card even though she wanted to buy a new dress for their date. Her lousy mood almost made him dump her back at his condo, but Erik kept a cool head and stayed focused on the plan. He ignored the way Monique complained the entire time she got ready, reluctantly putting on a dress he had seen her wear before. It didn’t matter to him; he knew what the night held.

When they walked into the restaurant, Erik’s heart dropped into his stomach. He’d recognize that shoulder blade tattoo anywhere. She had cut off all her hair and lost a few pounds, but he knew for sure that he was looking at Kayla. His Kayla. He forced himself to look straight ahead as they passed her table and prayed that the maitre d’ didn’t sit them where she could see him. Unfortunately, he had no such luck because the only open table for two was directly within her line of sight. He prayed again that Monique would sit on the far side of the table, but Bast ignored his pleas once more. He had to sit facing her, and as soon as he got comfortable in his chair, her gaze slyly trailed over to him. They locked eyes across the room, and Erik’s heart stopped. She was just as beautiful as the last time he saw her all those months ago, but who the fuck was that sitting across from her?

“What are you looking at?” Monique’s abrasive voice cut through his eardrums.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone I know, that’s all.”

She cut her eyes at him and turned around to look as he buried his face in the menu.

“Quit being nosy,” he complained.

“I just wanna see who’s got your attention, that’s all.” Monique turned back around with a sour look on her face. “It’s probably that fat girl with her cleavage all out.”

“Mo, just look at the fucking menu and act like you got some sense.”

“Fine.”

Monique pouted until the waiter showed up, but she plastered a fake smile on her face as he took their order. As usual, she ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, and it bothered him to no end that she was hellbent on spending all of his money. Of course, he had plenty, but she felt entitled to it. Kayla never cared about him being rich. Hell, when they got together, she didn’t even know he was a prince, but he loved to spoil her nonetheless. He loved the look on her face when he’d buy her things or take her on the expensive trips that she more than deserved. Kayla appreciated everything he did for her with all her heart, but she’d say the same thing every time.

“Thank you, baby, but you’re all I need.”

Erik smiled fondly at the memory of when he bought her a diamond tennis bracelet from Wakanda for their second anniversary. She was so excited to have diamonds that weren’t marred by exploited labor that she damn near dropped the box when she saw what was inside. It had been a rough year for them, what with him disappearing for a couple of months to seize the Wakandan throne and all. She certainly had plenty of colorful words for him when he came back. He’ll never forget the look on her face when he showed up at her door. He had brought T’Challa for backup just in case, but she looked right past the king as tears welled up in her eyes at seeing her Erik, alive and well.

Erik’s eyes started to get misty as he thought about the way she kissed him with so much emotion...then slapped him across the face for leaving. His gaze wandered back over to Kayla and he noticed the light bounce off of something on her arm. She was wearing the bracelet.

As if she felt his glare, Kayla shifted uncomfortably in her seat, so he averted his eyes back to Monique, who had caught him staring again.

“Why don’t you go say hi?” she asked sarcastically, making him roll his eyes so hard they almost got stuck.

--------

Erik Stevens. Here, of all places. He just had to be here.

Kayla noticed that he didn’t seem to be enjoying his modelesque date’s company any more than she was enjoying Darwin’s, and the pang of jealousy she felt at seeing him with another woman went away. She knew she had no right to feel any kind of way about it, especially since she was the one that broke things off. That didn’t make it any easier, though.

Dylan was too wrapped up in his steak to notice her wandering eye, but it seemed that Erik’s food was as uninteresting as the woman across from him. Kayla watched as he half-heartedly pushed it around his plate, but he certainly kept his favorite whiskey coming. She wanted to chuckle but didn’t want Daniel to think he had anything to do with her levity. They were both drowning their dissatisfactions in their alcohols of choice, and Kayla got a phantom taste of Uncle Nearest 1856 on her lips as she watched him take a sip. When he set the glass down and licked his lips, Kayla felt flush. She missed those lips…

“So, how about dessert?” Damien asked as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his stomach. “I hear their creme brulee is amazing.”

“Uh, sure, why not?”

“You know,” he began as he leaned in and reached for her hands. She allowed him to take them, but the softness of his hands disgusted her. No callouses, no roughness, not even a firm grip. “I’ve had a great night. I’d love to see you again.”

Kayla chuckled nervously, unsure of how to proceed.

“What are you doing next-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

A shrill voice pierced the air as Erik’s date bolted up from her seat. Desmond, and the whole restaurant, turned around to see what was going on, and Kayla took the opportunity to remove her hands from his.

“Keep your voice down,” Erik sneered through his teeth. “We’re in public.”

“So?! You bring me out here just to dump me? To dump this?!” she gestured at her slim figure, and he rolled his eyes.

“You ain’t even all that,” he waved her off. He was tired of playing nice, and Kayla could see the exasperation written all over his face.

“Excuse me, miss-” the waiter attempted to calm her down, but the crazed woman cut him off.

“Stay out of this!”

“I’m so sorry,” Erik mouthed to the poor man who would absolutely be getting a monstrous tip later.

“Oh, you’re sorry for him, but not for me?”

“Mo, just sit down. We can finish our meal like adults-”

“Fuck you, Erik.” She threw her dirty martini at him, soaking the front of his all-black ensemble.

Kayla could damn near see the steam coming out of his ears as his apparent ex stormed out of the restaurant. Erik locked eyes with her across the room, and when he saw the concern written all over her face, his softened.

“Whew, poor fella,” Dexter commented as he turned back around. “Where was I? Oh-”

“Excuse me, where’s your restroom?” Kayla interrupted him as their waiter walked by.

“Right down there.” She pointed at a set of stairs off to the side, and Kayla thanked her as she slid out of her seat.

“I’ll be back, Darius.”

“It’s Denzel.” He deflated.

“Fuck,” she froze. She had been sure it was Darius. “Still, I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here,” he responded, obviously upset by her slip-up.

Kayla hurried off down the stairs and leaned against the wall as she waited for either of the single-use restrooms to open up. She took a deep breath and opened her clutch, reaching in to pull out her phone with a shaky hand and typing in his number. It was one of the few she had memorized, just in case.

“You ok?”

Her thumb hovered over the send button, but she couldn’t press it. Her heart nearly thumped out of her chest at the thought of starting a conversation with him, but something within her said that she should. It would be weird not to say anything after all that, right?

“Hey-”

“Shit!” Kayla dropped her phone when his silky baritone graced her ears.

“My fault, ma.” Erik leaned over and picked the phone off the floor, checking it for cracks. He saw she had typed a message out to him and smirked before handing it back to her.

“T-thanks.”

“No problem. And, yeah, I’m ok.”

“Huh?”

Erik pointed at her phone screen.

“Oh! Right. Um, well, that’s good to hear.” Kayla attempted to push her hair behind her ear out of habit, forgetting she had just cut it all off a week ago.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You ok? You don’t seem to into ole dude out there.”

Kayla sighed and rolled her eyes, “Oh, him.”

“Damn, it’s like that?” Erik laughed, and she slapped his arm. That slight contact was enough to spark a flame in them both, and Erik’s face turned serious. “For real, though, not going well?”

“Better than you, it seems,” she quipped as she eyed his wet shirt. That was a bad idea because his first three buttons were undone, and she caught a peek of the raised scars that she missed so much. And that broad chest, and the chain with his father’s ring that he always wore. He’d let her wear it from time to time, and she always felt like it was such an honor. He trusted her enough to let her wear it. He loved her enough to-

Kayla pried her eyes away and made yet another mistake: she looked up at him. Those eyes still looked like sweet, sweet molasses, and even though his locs were braided back, she could tell he was letting them grow out. She momentarily wondered who was retwisting them nowadays, but her train of thought was cut short by the scent of sandalwood and vanilla. Kayla’s mind went blank as she inhaled slowly.

“Heh, yeah. That was...that was pretty embarrassing. Not even gonna lie.” Erik looked away shyly, unable to hold her gaze.

“I guess you’ll need to find a new date spot, huh?”

“Nah, I think I’m good on dating for a while.”

“Same,” Kayla sighed. “Dating sucks.”

“Yeah…”

One of the bathroom doors unlocked, and a middle-aged white man stepped out and passed them on the way up the stairs.

“Well, I should-”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Kayla walked towards the bathroom, but before she could reach the door, she felt a light tug on her wrist. His touch still gave her goosebumps, and he noticed her raised skin as she turned to face him.

“I just, uh...it was nice seeing you, Kay-kay.” Erik smiled at her, and she nearly melted. She missed when he called her that, too. “You look good.”

“Thanks, E.” She smiled back. “So do you.”

He let her go, and Kayla disappeared into the bathroom. When she closed the door behind her, she took a deep breath to center herself. After all these months, Erik still took her breath away. He clouded her senses and scrambled her mind. Even as she took care of business, her brain replayed their short interaction on a loop.

Kayla locked eyes with her reflection as she dried her hands. How could she go back up there to- what’s his name? Oh, yeah, Da- Denzel. That’s it, Denzel. How could she go back up there to his mediocre company when the man she still loved had made her feel so alive with just one touch. That was the magic of Erik, his magnetism. When they were together, she couldn’t help but be drawn to him, even when she wanted to slap him across his beautiful face. Those were some of the best times, though. If she was angry at him, he knew exactly what to do to calm her down. To put her in her place. To remind her-

Kayla’s daydreaming was cut short by a knock at the door.

“Occupied!”

It came again.

“I’ll be out in a minute!”

She reached for another paper towel to dab off the sweat that had started to pool on her skin at the thought of Erik’s dominance when the door opened.

“What the f- Erik?!”

He pushed inside the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

“You need to start locking doors, Kay.”

“I- what do you want?”

“I want to talk to you,” he spoke as he moved closer to her.

“Here?!”

“Yeah, here,” he chuckled.

Kayla rolled her eyes and tried to push past him.

“Now is not the time or place-”

“When is?” he blocked her exit, and she crossed her arms in defeat, looking up at him through her lashes as she leaned against the sink. “Look, I just need to say something real quick.”

“Fine,” Kayla sighed and gestured for him to continue. She knew there was no use fighting him. She wasn’t leaving that bathroom until he was good and ready.

“Kay,” his voice softened, and she looked away only to have her face pulled back in his direction. “Kay-kay, look at me.”

She made the mistake of doing just that, getting lost in his eyes again.

“I miss you,” Erik murmured.

“Erik-”

“Look, I know, ok? I know. And I’m sorry, Kay. I really am- no, look at me. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you...but I miss you, girl.”

Kayla’s eyes welled up with tears that she tried her hardest to blink away, but one had the nerve to fall. Erik wiped it away, and the next one, and the next one. A sob wracked Kayla’s body, and he wrapped his arms around her body.

“Don’t cry, babygirl. I know you worked hard on your makeup.”

Kayla laughed through her tears, but the emotions washed back over her, and she buried her face into his chest. It was already soaked with gin, so what harm would a few tears do?

He held her and rocked her softly from side to side as she cried, and after a couple of minutes, she found the will to look up at him again. His cheeks were wet, so she reached up and swiped her thumbs over them as she held his face in her small hands. He nuzzled into them and kissed her wrists.

“I miss you, too, E,” she croaked.

“I know, babygirl.”

He leaned in to kiss her forehead, and she closed her eyes as his soft lips caressed her skin. They stayed intertwined for who knows how long until Erik felt Kayla begin to pull back. He looked down at her, and the two of them locked eyes. Before they knew it, their lips had met in the middle in a passionate embrace. They got lost in each other for a moment until common sense returned to Kayla, and she pushed him off.

“We can’t-”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Because what, Kay?” Erik’s voice rumbled as he closed what little gap was between their bodies. He left soft kisses on her temples before working down to her cheeks, then her jawline, and eventually the column of her neck. She let out a soft whimper when his teeth grazed the crook of her neck but pushed him back again before he could continue any further.

“Erik, I...I still love you, and-”

He attacked her lips with his, hands feverishly gripping her waist as he pushed her further into the sink. She had nowhere to go, and she was ok with that.

“I...love you...too...babygirl,” he whispered between kisses.

Kayla’s mind went blank as he lifted her up on the counter and pressed himself between her legs. She could feel him, all of him, and damn did she miss that monster between his legs.

“Erik,” she moaned as he nipped at her earlobe. He still knew how to play her body like a violin.

“Mmm, say it again.”

“Erik!” she squeaked as she felt his strong hands grip her thighs.

“Just like that,” he groaned, and she flooded her already wet panties.

“Baby-”

He connected his forehead to hers and stared deep into her eyes. “You miss me?”

“Mhm,” Kayla nodded with her lip between her teeth.

“I miss you, too, baby. I think about you all the time. Every day,” he pecked her lips, “every night. I miss everything about you, Kay-kay. Your off-key singing, your horrible cooking-”

“Shut up,” Kayla giggled as his hands traveled up her dress.

“Your body…fuck I miss this body. I miss how you smell, how you taste...how that tight little pussy feels wrapped around my dick.”

Kayla widened her legs for him as his fingers found their way to the seat of her panties, stroking up and down her slit. Erik kissed his way back down her face and over to her ear, his warm breath sending chills down her spine.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself? Because I do. You’re all I see when I stroke my dick...wishing it was your hand...your lips...this fucking pussy.”

Erik pushed her panties to the side, and his nimble fingers circled her clit. Kayla let out a small moan that was music to his ears, making fingers move faster and her breath grow shallower with each rotation.

“Answer me.”

“Mhm.”

“Come on, babygirl, you can do better than that. You think about me when you play in your pussy? This pussy right here?” he asked as he slapped her vulva, her wetness sticking to his hand.

“Y-yes, baby-”

“Uh-uh, you know who I am. Say it,” Erik commanded as he snuck three fingers inside her wetness, making her moan loudly in his ear. “Shhh, you gotta be quiet, babygirl. You don’t want people out there knowing how much of a slut you are, right?”

Kayla shook her head no.

“That’s what I thought. Now, I asked you a question, Kayla,” he reminded her. His gruff voice made her weak, and the fingers that were steadily speeding up inside her certainly didn’t help. “Answer me. Who am I, babygirl?”

Kayla tried to hold out as much as she could. She didn’t want to say it, too proud to give in, but the way he was currently stretching out her pussy and curling his fingers inside her made her cling to his shoulders. The bastard knew what he was doing, and she didn’t want to let him win. But then, he played dirty and bit down on her neck. She cried out, and when he pulled back to look at her, the ferocity in his eyes drove her up the wall.

“I said, who the fuck am I, Kayla?” Erik growled. His hand sped up, making her weak with every thrust. She couldn’t hold it anymore and came undone around him, her mouth betraying her as his name fell from her lips.

“Daddy!” she gasped as her pussy spasmed, and he chuckled darkly.

“Damn right I am,” he kissed her lips, “now gimme that pussy. Daddy missed his pussy.”

Kayla heard a rip and felt the cool air between her legs as he tore through her panties to get to her treasure trove. She reached down between them and grabbed his clothed erection in her hand, making him groan as he bit down on his luscious bottom lip. She undid his belt buckle and slowly unzipped his pants before reaching in and pulling out his throbbing dick.

The longing in her eyes told him everything he needed to know, so he pushed her legs back and tapped his head on her clit.

“You want daddy’s dick in you?”

“Mhm,” she whimpered.

“Good.”

He pushed in and groaned at the feeling of her pussy walls gripping him as he sheathed himself inside her.

“Fuck, you feel like home.”

Kayla moaned into his neck in response and wound her hips against him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he stroked into her slow and deep. She couldn’t form words. He felt so damn good inside her that Kayla’s brain had short-circuited. Erik’s dick hit spots that she could never find herself no matter how hard she tried. Even in her dreams, he drove her body wild. She had spent the last year trying to find somebody, anybody who could make her feel that way, but nobody could compare to Erik Stevens.

Erik and Kayla panted heavily into each others’ mouths as he made love to her body, and as soon as Kayla started to tense up, his thrusts grew harder.

“I-I-”

“I know, babygirl. Daddy feels it,” he groaned as he nipped at her bottom lip. “Cum on my dick like a good girl.”

His words sent Kayla into overdrive, and her body shook as she spilled over him. Her spasming walls hugged him tight, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, begging him with her eyes.

“You feel amazing,” she moaned.

“Mhm. I know them other niggas wasn’t hitting it like this. I just know it. Look at you, cumming all over daddy’s dick. Look at it!” He grabbed her chin and made her look down at her throbbing pussy as his dick slid in and out of her.

“We look so good, daddy!”

Erik slammed into her, and she bit into his shoulder to keep from screaming. He gave her his all over and over, rocking the countertop in the process.

“We’ll look even better if you let me cum in this pussy. Mix my cum with yours-”

“Yes!”

“Yes?” He chuckled. “You want it that bad, huh? Nasty ass, in here getting fucked while that bum ass nigga’s waiting for you upstairs.”

“Mmm, I want it.”

“Want what, babygirl?” Erik teased as he brought his thumb to her clit, strumming it slowly as he thrust into her.

“You. I want you to cum deep in me.”

“Shit,” Erik groaned. “You want it deep in there?”

“Mhm. Put it where it belongs, daddy.” Kayla licked up the side of his neck, making his knees buckle. “Cum in your pussy.”

Erik lost all sense of control and pounded into her tight pussy, somehow getting even deeper in preparation for his release. Kayla held on tight as she felt him begin to spasm inside her, and she released around him again as his deep moans tickled her ear. Erik thrust extra deep and held his dick in place as he emptied his balls into her warmth, whimpering lightly as she rubbed his back to soothe him and bring him back down.

“I missed you, babygirl.”

“I missed you, too, daddy.”

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other until their breathing slowed. Erik was the first to move, slowly pulling himself out of Kayla as she whined at the loss of contact. He kissed all over her face before planting a slow, sweet kiss on her lips.

“I can’t let you go again, Kay-kay,” his voice cracked as tears threatened to fall from his eyes again.

Kayla pulled him back in and kissed him so deeply that she nearly lost herself in him again, but he pulled away and looked her in her eyes.

“I’m serious, girl. I’ll do anything. I’ll marry you, give you as many big-headed babies as you want. Just, please, Kay-” she cut him off with another kiss to shut him up.

“We should go back to my place and talk,” she whispered, and Erik’s face lit up. Something about the way she said it, the way she kissed him, the way her body still responded to his...it gave him hope. Kayla smiled at him and pecked his lips once more before hopping off of the sink. He had to catch her because her legs were wobbly, and she stumbled a little in her heels.

“You aight?” he laughed.

“No, nigga,” she slapped his chest, and the two of them got caught in a laughing fit. They had really just fucked in the bathroom at Chez Martine. Kayla was on cloud nine until a thought occurred to her, and her face fell flat. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Erik’s face turned serious, and his eyes scanned over her body, looking for whatever the problem was.

Kayla started giggling again, and he looked confused.

“What is it?” he asked, barely able to keep a straight face. Her laugh was always so infectious…

“Demetrius.”

“Who?!”

“My date.”

“Girl, don’t worry about him. He probably thinks you dipped out anyway.”

Kayla shrugged and fixed her dress as Erik stuffed his shirt back in his pants. They checked their reflections in the mirror, and Kayla was pleasantly surprised that her makeup was still intact thanks to that setting spray she had splurged on the other day.

“Ready?” Erik asked as he admired her beauty. Kayla nodded, and he unlocked the door, opening it to find Duncan leaning against the wall with a sour look on his face. Kayla’s eyes blew wide as she tried to figure out what to say to her date for the evening.

“Heyyy, um…”

“Denzel,” he seethed.

“Yeah, sorry. So, um, we’re-”

“Sorry, bruh,” Erik clapped him on the shoulder, “but we heading out. Bathroom’s all yours, though.”

Erik pulled Kayla along, and she sent Deion an apologetic glance before following Erik up the stairs. It seemed the whole restaurant knew what had occurred, but neither one of them cared. They were just happy to be around each other again. It had been entirely too long.

Taglist: @ladymac82, @kitesatforestp, @harleycativy, @raysunshine78, @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me,@toni9, @bribrisback, @impremenior, @blacklytical, @uzumaki-rebellion, @honeyandpeaches, @cecereads209, @wakandama2,

[inkykeiji]

you be the match, i will be your fuse

fluffy anon said: dabi coming home after an absolutely horrid day at work and just needing to be absolutely BABIED by reader (i’m talking cuddling in bed, taking a bath with him and washing his hair then getting out just rubbing his back as he sleeps with his head on your chest)

genre: angst + fluff, laced with just a hint of smut (like two sentences)

notes: aaaah happy birthday dabi!!! this has absolutely nothing to do with your birthday but eeee ily | title cred: sure thing by miguel

warnings: 18+, implied/mentioned death of a child, one instance of implied past physical abuse, self-destructive behaviour + coping mechanisms, co-dependent toxic relationship

words: 3.5k

It’s thundering the day it happens, ferocious growls that rumble through your apartment—a tiny, quaint space you share with Dabi, full of faulty appliances and cracked linoleum—rolling, fluffy grey clouds blanketing the entire sky, swollen with restrained rain droplets as a storm brews within them. Little fingers idly toy with the yellowed pages of your worn pulp fiction novel, flipping through them and bending corners as your eyes search the angry sky, chewing on your cheek.

Dabi should’ve been home by now. It’s not like him to be late without calling, without letting his babygirl know what’s going on—he knows the way you worry, the way you overthink yourself into a frenzy, the way you’re so clingy and needy, teases you about it incessantly and tells you he thinks it’s cute—and a deep sense of dread takes root in the pit of your stomach, dark and bitter and unfurling, quickly spreading throughout the cavity of your chest.

His phone must be off—no, it’s never off, he doesn’t do that anymore, not since you stumbled into his life—his phone must be dead, your repeated calls growing increasingly frequent and urgent every time you’re greeted with the drone of his automatic voicemail.

Something’s wrong, horribly so.

It’s evident the moment he arrives home, scratched brass doorknob slamming against the wall, deepening the crater its left from past incidents of a similar manner.

It infects the air around him, hanging heavy and thick, its dense presence nearly suffocating. His shoulders slump under the pressure, the weight of whatever he’s carrying practically crushing, as he drags his crimson splattered boots through the front door, soles scraping against the cheap hardwood, bringing the putrid scent of charred flesh with him—his or someone else’s, you don’t know.

You swear you can almost see it, this—this thing, this aura, enveloping him in its haughty embrace as his chest heaves under a deep, controlled breath, pausing in the foyer as the door shuts behind him.

Bare feet pad against the floor, your legs moving without your explicit permission, drawn towards him in an almost instinctual manner, the desire to care for, to comfort, burning as it bubbles up in your chest, mixing with that intense sense of trepidation and invading your veins.

He permits you to wrap your arms around his torso as you nuzzle against him, body going rigid for a moment, still and stiff as marble, before he exhales again, melting into your embrace.

Several questions race through your mind at such a speed that they crash and clash together, becoming nothing more than incoherent jumbled lettering, tiny fingers curling in the fabric of his clothing as you try to pull him closer, nonsensical babbling spilling from your lips. A vacant ghost of a chuckle leaves his lips, nothing more than a simple huff of breath, and he squeezes you closer.

“Bad day?” the words are mumbled against his dirty t-shirt, what was once a pristine white now tarnished with ash and blood. You don’t get a response—you don’t expect one.

He doesn’t talk much, not on days like this.

He doesn’t need to.

Bad days—really bad, terrible, awful days such as this one—are surprisingly rare with Dabi. Sure, he’s had the typical ‘bad’ day before, where someone pisses him off, or he gets into a fight with his superior, but those bad days usually require railing you into your creaky, springy king-sized mattress until you’ve forgotten everything but his name and he’s fucked all of the anger and hatred out of his body.

They are not like this one. No, on days such as this, on days where he’s killed someone he deems to be innocent, someone who—like him—is a victim of heroism, he’s quiet, distant, unpredictable, bordering on unhinged, and you’ve learned to tread with extreme discretion.

But you don’t push, either, resolving to communicate through gentle touches, soft fingertips that run along his tense, broad shoulders and press into the hard coiled muscles, tender fingers that thread through inky tufts of hair, sapphire eyes closing as he hums and leans into the motion like a cat.

It’s only for a second, though, just a moment of weakness before he’s breaking out of your embrace, pushing past you and clearing his throat, glass door to the balcony sliding shut a moment later. 

You don’t follow. You know better than that now, a phantom sting in your cheek serving as a reminder, the resounding sharp sound of glass shattering as it’s hurled at the floor slicing through your mind with such viciousness it makes you wince. 

Instead, you sit. And you wait. Like you’re supposed to, like a good little girl, a book clutched between your quivering hands, unblinking eyes staring at the words on the page, nothing but incomprehensible symbols—lines and lines of black ink in meaningless shapes—as scorching sapphire loops through your mind.

Be a good girl, give him space, let him come to you. Be a good girl, give him space, let him come to you. Be a good girl. Give him space. Let him come to you.

It’s standard procedure, really.

And eventually, he does, comes back inside with an empty bottle of whiskey clutched in a hand, along with a crumpled package of cigarettes. You don’t know how long it’s been, muscles sore and joints aching from sitting in the same position for so long, eyes dry from staring at the same page, barely moving, barely breathing. His hand is bleeding, knuckles bruised and gleaming with sticky scarlet that’s still fresh and flowing, but it could be worse. It has been worse.

The harsh clink of the bottle against the kitchen counter makes you flinch, and he sighs, heavy and full of derision, eyes flicking up to glare at your side profile.

“I can hear you thinking,”

“You’re filthy, baby,” the words tumble past your lips, uncontrollable, involuntary, almost reflexive in your response, eyes snapping to his face and voice whiny, voice pleading. “Take a bath with me,”

And you can see it—can see it in the dark cobalt of his irises, what he needs, the very thing he’s fighting himself on, the very thing he’s fighting so hard against. Always so stubborn, so reluctant, so cautious.

Because, fuck, he used to be able to resist it, this pathetic ache for comfort—something that’s only managed to grow in your presence, that’s shifted and morphed from a dull smoldering to a raging fire, an insatiable longing for your fingers in his hair and your breath on his skin and your voice against his ear—a skill he’d been constructing, developing, perfecting, since he was thirteen years old. A skill you succeeded in shattering in the matter of a few measly months.

Because you—you’re different. And he hates it sometimes, he swears to the good Lord he does, but hating it doesn’t make it any less true. You break him down, you make him weak, you make him want, and the longer he spends around you, the more he finds that he doesn’t fucking care. And that’s irritating, that’s exciting, that’s terrifying, that’s new. 

Fury blisters his chest, his lungs, his throat as he holds your stare, jaw clenching twice. But you don’t falter, not like the rest of them, not like anyone else—everyone else. You never falter, always so eager to see the good in him, a snort leaving his nose at the thought. The good in him. Is there any good left in him? Was there ever any good in him in the first place? Are you the good in him, now? Does he care?

And he’s not sure he’ll ever understand it, but he’s beginning to realize that, maybe, he doesn’t have to. 

Maybe, it doesn’t matter. Maybe, it’s okay, if you love him, if he loves you.

Maybe.

It’s too much, and he can feel frustration stinging his eyes, long delicate eyelashes fluttering as he quickly blinks it away. Spears, sharp and cold, splinter your chest at the sight, but you know if you begin crying too, you’ll lose him. You know that if you begin showing what he considers weakness, he’ll pull away, even though this is what he so clearly needs most. 

So you steel yourself, swallowing hard against the pain collecting in your throat, will the tears away and force your body to stay calm, approaching him slowly as if he’s some sort of feral animal prone to lashing out. 

Apprehension is clear in his azure eyes, head tilting a little as they narrow, regarding you with skepticism, with suspicion. 

It’s bold, and dangerous, and—as far as Dabi’s concerned—fucking stupid, but you don’t care, determined to prove to him that you aren’t going anywhere regardless of how many tantrums he throws, no matter how many times he hurts you in his anguish. It’s almost desperate, really, this sheer need to prove to him that you aren’t scared of him, that irrespective of how soft he seems to think you are, you are strong, even if it’s in ways he could never understand, that you can be strong for him, when he needs it, that he can borrow some of your strength, if he needs to.

And that—that’s why he loves you. It hits him hard, as this realization always does, kicks him in the chest and knocks the breath out of him every time, and he’s not sure he’ll ever get used to it.

A tiny hand hangs in the air between the two of you, Dabi regarding the offer with a wary hesitance. Wiggling fingers attempt to entice him, earning a tiny smirk—a massive victory—as sapphire flits up to gaze at you through thick lashes, an eyebrow raised.

You match his expression, quirking an eyebrow of your own and nodding at your hand, speaking a moment later.

“Let me in, baby,” the words are barely above a whisper, but they’re so raw, filled with so much unadulterated love it hurts, pure and real and everything he’s never had before. “Let me help,”

And, God, it’s fucking overwhelming, how badly he wishes to give in to this unfamiliar compassion, how desperately he desires your affection, despite the malicious voice echoing off the walls of his skull, berating him for being so pathetic, so weak, so vulnerable.

But the urge to accept, to seek out consolation in you, wins, just as it always does, that nasty voice reverberating in his mind silenced the very instant his skin touches yours.

You let him make the last move, allow him to make that final decision entirely on his own accord, to grasp your hand in his, warm and rough, and pull you towards him, crushing you against his chest as he buries his face in your hair, eyes squeezed shut against that annoying burn of tears, chest stuttered with a hitched breath, air that gets caught in his throat as he chokes on the words he wants to say.

But he doesn’t need to say them. You already know.

“Come,” you murmur to him, fingers threading through the tufts of hair at the nape of his neck. “Let’s take a bath,”

     ✰          ✰          ✰

The bathwater stings your skin, just a hint too hot to be comfortable, but you say nothing as you settle onto his lap in the cramped little tub, encompassed by frothy bubbles, dainty scent of orange citrus tickling your nose.

Heated fingertips press into your hips as he finds comfort the only way he knows how to, in your precious little whimpers and broken moans of his name as he bounces you on his cock, so vigorously you’re positive you can feel him in your tummy, the pads of his fingers searing his prints into your skin.

It’s heady, it’s intoxicating, it’s addicting, heightened emotions both pleasant and unpleasant swirling together with the symphony of your cries and his grunts as the water you’re submerged in begins to bubble and boil, to crack and pop, sudsy liquid sloshing over the side of the tiny tub as he forces you to ride him, faster and faster and faster until you’re whining and convulsing around him, and he’s filling you with thick cum, cock throbbing aggressively as he spurts load after load into you.

After, as he leans back against the cold tile, residual droplets sizzling into steam as his heated skin touches them. Gentle fingers card between his hair, water cascading through onyx strands as it pours over his head from a worn plastic cup—a faded Darth Vader staring back at you as you rhythmically repeat your actions until the tresses stick to his forehead and cheeks, drenched and shining in the low light of the washroom.

Heavy lids obscure the most brilliant sapphire from you as shampoo is massaged into his scalp, slow and unhurried and thorough, every stroke, every comb through inky clumps easing the turmoil in his mind bit by bit, calming the storm that’s been raging inside of him for hours now. Deep hums rumble in his chest as your fingers continue their ministrations, your eyes trained on your motions. And you can feel it, the tension dissipating from his body with each circle of foam rubbed into his soft hair, shoulders finally beginning to relax as he subconsciously nuzzles into your touch, following it, longing for it, aching for more.

He shifts then, after you’ve rinsed the soap from his hair, manhandling you into a position between his thighs, bare chest pressed tightly against your back. You work hard to keep your body from tensing, forcing your breathing to stay even, to stay calm as you brace yourself for what’s coming next.

“He was eleven,” he says after several long moments of silence, voice low and trembling, hoarse and heavy with remorse. “This time.”

This time. That’s the third innocent civilian—innocent by his standards, at least—this month.

That’s the first time it’s ever been a child.

You don’t turn around to look at him, not yet—he isn’t finished—simply opting to lace your fingers through his and bring your joined hands to your lips, kissing each wounded knuckle, crude staples catching in the dim warm light of the tiny bathroom. 

You want to tell him it wasn’t his fault, even though it was. You want to tell him anything that’ll make him feel better, that’ll absolve the guilt so evidently gnawing away at his insides, even though you know there’s nothing you can say.

“What are—I don’t even—” his voice breaks and you feel his chest stutter against your back, feel him exhale harshly, breath cool on your damp shoulder, feel him swallow thickly as he tries again. Because as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, as much as he would never admit it, you know he needs release this from the confines of his mind—you know you’re the only person who can offer him such an outlet. “Why the fuck were there kids there in the first place? Huh? They shouldn’t—They shouldn’t have been there,”

Orphans are everywhere in this city, you murmur, lips moving against his rough skin. He knows. Orphans of heroes. He knows.

“I’m gonna kill Shigaraki, I swear to Christ. Sending us to a—a fucking place infested with fucking ch-children,” his fingers curl around yours, hand beginning to shake as it clutches you like a lifeline, like that guilt will devour him from the inside out, like he’ll disintegrate into nothingness, if he doesn’t. “I bet you he fucking knew—nah, I-I’m positive he did. Asshole only cares about himself, though. Doesn’t matter that—that the cause we’re supposed to be fighting for affects these stupid kids,”

You’re right, love.

The words leave your lips in a gentle breath, leaning your head back against his collarbone and staring up at him. Cobalt eyes stay trained on the cracked tile wall, jaw methodically clenching as his molars grind together, an attempt to quell the trembling of his chin, exhaling hard harsh breaths through flared nostrils.

“Whatever,” he huffs, voice still wavering and not nearly as self-assured as he wishes. “Th-That brat shouldn’t have been there in the first place,”

He shouldn’t have, you agree, finally squirming in his grasp, turning to face him, to straddle his hips again in the tight space of the tub. And he welcomes your affections readily this time, arms encircling your waist as he holds you tightly to him, blunt nails digging purple-tinged crescents into your flesh as he shoves his face against your neck, finally allowing those emotions he’s been fighting to leak from his eyes and absorb into your skin.

Little palms rub soothing circles into his back as he shudders against you, allowing him to empty his soul onto you as soft lips press chaste kisses to his damp hair, waiting until there’s nothing left, until his eyes are drained, azure glassy and bloodshot, nose twitching and red.

And after he’s done, when he finally pulls back, scrubbing aggressively at his nose as tiny sniffles hitch in his chest, gentle fingers begin to lather soap into his skin, washing away the dirt and grime and blood from the day. Fingertips carefully trace along the metal sutures decorating his body with immeasurable adoration, you whispering all of the things he so desperately needs to hear that he’d never dare to ask for, complimented by the tender touches that cleanse his soul with their unconditional love.

He’s bigger than you are, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to wrap him in a fluffy white towel, using another in an attempt to dry his hair as your hands move in shaggy motions, heart soaring in your chest when you pull a soft laugh from his lips, wet and wobbly and croaky, but a laugh nonetheless.

A mutual silence, gentle and comforting and stuffed full of an immense love, a special kind of love, a love words do not exist to explain, swathes your bodies as he allows you to dress him, pulling a ratty old band tee over his head and a pair of plaid PJ pants up his legs.

“You always look so cute in my clothes,” he rasps from his spot perched on the edge of the bed, glowing crystal eyes watching as you pull one of his t-shirts over your naked body.

A genuine bubble of laughter erupts from your throat as you climb into bed with him, immediately allowing him to latch onto you, to pull you towards him, to hold you close like his own personal plushie.

“Sleep,” you murmur as the two of you settle into a comfortable position, limbs tangled together, his head resting on your chest, fingers threading through his hair and then tracing down his neck, his back. “And then I’ll make you ramen,”

“The spicy kind?”

“Of course,”

I love you.

“Extra spicy?”

Laughing again, you feel his lips curve into a smile against your skin, grip around your torso tightening. “Extra spicy. Now, rest,”

More than anything else.

“With the little fish cakes?”

“Your favourite little fish cakes,”

More than words could ever tell you.

“And the pork belly?”

“And the pork belly,” you feel his chest rise with an inhale, hastily adding, “And those little cream puffs you love so much, from that dingy convenience store downstairs, for dessert. Now sleep, baby,”

He laughs, even though his vision is blurring, even though it comes out more strangled than anything else, because he doesn’t want to cry again, because his chest stings and aches and swells and warms, full of inexplicable emotions, feels like it’s going to fucking burst as it chokes and reinvigorates him all at once, and—God, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

Because even though he’s terrified beyond belief, he’s willing to try—just for you, only for you—as he continually realizes with each passing day that he isn’t sure what the fuck he’d do without you, now. Because you’re too entangled up in his life, too deeply embedded in his very soul, for him to ever remove you, now. Because as petrifying and unfamiliar as it is, he doesn’t want to, now.

Because even though he’s broken, irrevocably so, and you can’t fix him, won’t fix him, you’ll still stay, to hold those pieces so gently, so tenderly in your hands, you’ll still protect those fragments and keep them from shattering further, you’ll still give them the affection and devotion they need, the affection and devotion they deserve. Because you love every part of him, even the bad ones, even the shards with jagged edges that cut into the soft flesh of your palms every time you caress them.

Because you accept him wholeheartedly, flaws and all, and that’s—he’s never experienced anything like that before, this unlimited, unreserved, unquestioning love. And although he doesn’t know how to say this, isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to find the right words to communicate it, he’s beginning to learn that unfamiliar doesn’t always mean bad; that sometimes, it’s okay—it’s good—to be vulnerable. He’s beginning to learn that with you, in the warmth of your shitty little apartment, with the stove that only has two functioning burners and the fridge that’s perpetually too cold, he can be, without judgement, without fear, without trepidation.

Because you are his only salvation, and he wouldn’t trade this for the goddamn world.

[seita]

the contract girlfriend | semi eita (m.)

˒ pairing: semi eita/reader ˒ genre: angst, fluff, smut ˒ wordcount: 𝟺𝟹𝟹𝟷 ˒ tags: friends2lovers, fake dating, musician!eita ˒ cw: dirty talk, loss of virginity, virgin kink if u squint: sweet talking, pet names, mean girl ex, mutual pining, unrequited love(?), angst with a happy ending, UNEDITED

+ note: this is a collab along with the other writers for the kkc! i would also like to thank @bokutobabie​ 𝖿for her help with this plot bc it was kickin’ my ass.

˖˖ summary: when he was an unknown musician, his girlfriend left him. now that he’s made it, he wants to make her jealous at a fancy party so he can get her back.unfortunately, he asks you to be his fake date. the downside? you have a very real crush on him.

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collab masterlist!

© all content belongs to seita 2020. do not modify or repost.

“I have a proposition,” is never a sentence you want to hear when you sit down to lunch with your best friend. Especially when that friend is Semi Eita. 

“What..?” you ask apprehensively, taking the cup of coffee he’d obviously gotten to bribe you. You took it regardless, not willing to pass up the offer of free coffee.

“Nana is gonna be at the party this weekend,” he muttered, swirling his fingertips around the rim of his cup. You felt your heart drop into the pit of your stomach at his words, “I want you to come and pretend to be my date.”

Just as you’d expected. Not something you wanted to hear.

Nana was Eita’s first love, his first serious relationship, really. They got together when he was fresh out of highschool, the two of them spending almost all of their time together. 

It was when his career as a musician was just beginning, he was playing small gigs and there was nothing really successful. But he was happy. And he thought she was too.

Until she dumped him in favor of a much more famous man. He was a big movie producer and offered her a leading role in an upcoming film. Of course, she took the offer. 

She would much rather be mingling with the rich and famous than be hanging out with “a nobody like him”, as she put it. You remembered the hurt Eita felt, the tears and heartbreak it took almost 3 years for him to get over. 

“Why?” you finally asked with a sigh, “What will that accomplish?”

“Well if she gets jealous, she might want to get back with me,” he grinned impishly, shrugging his shoulders like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You recognized the look in his eyes, one of determination. So you sighed, nodding your head, “Alright, I’ll be your date.”

He beamed, uttering out endless thanks to you as you went on with your lunch until he decided to go back to the studio. He slipped his hat on low, making sure his mask was in place before hugging your goodbye and leaving you sitting alone at the table. 

You sighed, downing the last of your coffee. Your spirits were low; you had no idea what to expect from this party. 

Would she fall for it and run back into his arms now that he had had his big breakthrough and became mainstream? She surely must have known by now; his band was already breaking records, wracking up fans by the thousands, his songs were being played on the radio. 

Maybe now that he was famous enough, she’d actually want to be with him. Not that she deserved him. And he didn’t deserve someone like that, either. He was too good for her, too good to be treated like that. 

You let out another sigh and stood up, grabbing your purse from the back of the chair.

This was going to be painful. You weren’t sure how you would cope with pretending to be his girlfriend all for the sake of him getting back with her. 

Surely your heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

Because as much as you tried to hide it, you were irrevocably in love with your best friend.

The entire getup was supplied to you by Eita; from the jewelry to the dress itself. You felt like a different person. Despite the fact he was your best friend, you hadn’t attended one of the big parties since his band’s breakout single. 

This particular party wasn’t in celebration of his band, but he was invited regardless so naturally he went. He was still enjoying the high life and was getting used to tasting fame. You were glad it hadn’t actually affected his personality. 

“You look nice today,” Tendou complimented with a breezy smile. He was nursing a glass of champagne, which was uncharacteristic to say the least. He had always been more of a whiskey kind of guy.

“Thanks,” you shrugged, “I’m not really a fan of this kind of thing.”

“I know,” he grinned, “You look terribly uncomfortable, that’s why I came over to be such a good pal and keep you company while your darling boyfriend is off galavanting with the people!”

You rolled your eyes, “He’s not my boyfriend, Satori.”

He giggled, taking glee in your embarrassment, “But you wish he was.”

“Are you already drunk?” you raise a brow, making him snicker.

Someone called his name from the crowd and he flashed you a knowing grin, “Eita may be too dim to see it, but the rest of us aren’t!”

You pout and find yourself alone once again. Looking around, you search for your ‘boyfriend’. Suddenly, a heavy arm falls across your shoulders and the familiar scent of his cologne reaches your nose. 

“Hey, babygirl,” he coos, making your heart skip a beat at the pet name. He sounds so fond and you feel yourself smiling before he busts out laughing, shaking his head before letting his arm fall from your shoulders, “That’s just so weird. I dunno if I’ll be able to get through this tonight,” Ouch. “Anyway, Nana just arrived so…” he takes your hand but you can’t bring yourself to smile as you feel the ache in your heart at his words.

If he takes note of your deflated behavior, he doesn’t say anything, merely leading you over to the balcony. You breathe in the fresh air and feel the ache in your chest dull.

“Eita? Is that you?” a perky voice makes you cringe. 

“Nana,” Eita breathes, tugging you against his side as she breaks through the crowd to stand in front of the two of you.

Her smile promptly disappears at the sight of you crowded in Eita’s arms.

“Eita...who’s this?” she asks, a smile returning but you can tell it’s plastic. 

You remembered everything you had gone over with him before the party; the two of you had sat down for a few hours to sort out your story and rules. It had felt like you were making a binding contract with him when you told him no kissing on the lips. It was your only stipulation and you swore you saw a brief downward tug of his lips when you told him before he beamed and readily agreed. 

Maybe you were imagining that disappointment in his eyes too. 

“This is my girlfriend, _____,” Eita introduced, giving your arm an affectionate squeeze.

“Oh,” she gave you a strained smile and held out her hand for you to shake. When you slipped your hand into hers, she gave it a tense squeeze that made you flinch, “I’m Nana, Eita’s ex.”

“I’ve uh…” you cleared your throat and pulled your hand away, “I’ve heard stories about you.”

“All good I’m sure,” she replied flippantly before setting her sights on him once more, “We should totally catch up, you know? Reminisce about the good old times~”

The sultry, flirtatious undertone made your skin crawl. Even if you weren’t really dating, she thought you were and for her to not respect that made you angry. But still, Eita pulled away and placed a kiss against your temple that set your heart ablaze.

“Sure, why not?” he grinned and gave your hand a squeeze, “You go have some fun, sweetheart. I’ll catch up with you later.”

You gave him a hollow wave as he quickly vanished into the crowd without a second glance your way. You knew this was the end goal but still, to see him walking away hurt. A sense of rejection was seeded within you and you felt your spirits slowly being crushed. 

It took all your power to continue on with the party until it felt acceptable to leave. Throughout the party, you kept getting glances of the two of them. 

Eita wore a serene smile, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her. Whenever she looked at him with a flirtatious smile and a subtle caress, you felt jealousy pool in the core of your stomach. You wanted to march over there and scream “he’s mine!”. But you couldn’t, because he wasn’t really yours. 

He was only pretending to be yours so he could have her. 

Your phone vibrated as you downed your final glass of wine, making you look at the screen with a frown.

“I’m heading to Nana’s apartment for the night! See if Satori can give you a ride home, thanks for the help!!”

Your jaw ached from how hard you were forcing yourself to keep from crying. When you tried to find the elusive redhead, you found he was drunk and dancing with two girls so you decided to leave him be and simply call an Uber. 

For just a short time, you had simply been a contract girlfriend for him to use. Though you knew it was fake, it still felt so nice to be called his. 

So you went home, removing your expensive clothing like Cinderella after the ball and decided to relax on the couch. It was only a little past midnight when you got out of the shower, turning on the TV to watch whatever late night nonsense was playing. 

Eita thought that being with Nana again would be everything he wanted. But as he laid beside her, her head resting on his naked chest, strangely all he could think of was you. 

When he asked you to pretend to be his date, he hadn’t thought of the possibility of how it would really feel. Sure, he had touched you before, naturally. Sometimes he hugged you and held your hand. But that night, when he placed the kiss against your head, the way your eyes lit up in response had his heart stuttering when he thought back to it. 

Truth be told, when you told him he couldn’t kiss you he felt so...disappointed. He had thought of assigning the same rule but decided against it at the last moment, secretly thinking about how nice it may feel to kiss you. 

He had quickly dashed that though because of how wrong it was to think of you like that. 

Yet there he was, thinking of you with his ex girlfriend back in his arms again.

“Eita?” Nana asked, lifting her head to look drowsily at him, “Are you okay?”

“Um...yeah,” he clears his throat, “I should probably get going.”

“Why?” she whines, “Don’t worry about her.”

“Huh? Who?” he asks, confused.

She giggles and clings to his arm, “Your girlfriend! She doesn’t have to know!”

His heart ached at those words -- true, you weren’t really dating but he felt like he had done something wrong. And for some reason Nana’s blatant disregard that he had cheated with her made him nauseous.

“I...I just want to see if she made it home safely,” he gave her a tight lipped smile and picked up his phone. 

She rested against the pillow, head propped up on her hand as she watched him dial you. When you didn’t answer, he gave a frustrated sigh and dialed Satori instead. 

It rang a few times before the slurred voice of his best friend answered, “H-Hey man, what’s up?”

“Satori, did you drop _____ off okay?” Eita asked.

The redhead made a confused sound over the line, “What’re you talkin’ about? She never asked me to take her anywhere.”

“What?” Eita frowned, “Did you see her leave the party?”

“Gotta tell ya, man, I wasn’t watchin’ her,” Tendou replied, a feminine giggle in the background making Eita frown, “Wasn’t that supposed to be your job?”

Eita sighed, shaking his head, “Alright, dude, just...let me know if you hear from her.”

“Hah? Why would she call me?” Satori chuckled, “Why don’t you just check on her? Better safe than sorry...I mean, she’s a cute girl, you never know what kinda scoundrels were eyeing her in that pretty little dress tonight. If i was a less honorable friend, she would be the one in my bed right now!”

Eita scoffed and hung up as his friend started cackling gleefully over the line. Eita stood up, shaking off Nana’s grabby hands as he slipped his jeans back on.

“You’re not going back to her, are you?” she pouted.

Eita sighed, “I gotta check on her. No one knows where she went off to.”

“She’s a big girl, c’mon Eita~” she purred, letting the sheet fall from her bare body as she crawled towards him.

He shook his head and threw his shirt on, grabbing his keys off of her dresser before moving to the door, “I gotta see her.”

He ignored her obnoxious whining as he bolted out the door. Any sleepiness that was in his system had evaporated at the worry he felt over you. 

The drive to your apartment was quick enough, it went by in a blur. He took two steps at a time up to your place on the 3r floor, not patient enough to wait for the elevator. 

The knock on your door made you jump. Throwing the pillow you held in your lap aside, you checked through the peephole to see a familiar head of sandy blonde hair. 

Pulling the door opened, you looked at him with wide eyes, “Eita? Aren’t you supposed to be with--”

“I couldn’t get a hold of you,” he breathed, stepping past you to enter your living room.

“And?” you laughed, shrugging your shoulders.

“I got worried! Why didn’t you go home with Satori?” he sighed, sitting on your couch with a huff.

You chuckled again, though it was humorless, “He looked like he was having fun, I didn’t want to impose.”

He sighs and relaxes against the couch. As you sit next to him, for a second things feel normal. 

You almost feel okay, as if you could forget about everything happening. It’s so easy to forget your crush on your best friend and the fact he wanted to be with another woman. 

It was easy to forget it all until it came rushing back into your face in the form of Nana. 

You and Eita were having a lunch date, as was normal for the two of you. Unfortunately, amid his retelling of a story you had heard a million times over, she showed up with an obnoxious screech of his name.

“Eita!” she squealed and rushed over to him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. 

You let out a soft sigh, your eyes falling to your half-finished plate.

“Nana…” he greeted, eyes wide in shock, “H-How did you find me? What’re you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you, silly!” she chirped, taking a seat in his lap in a way that was far too comfortable. Suddenly, her gaze shifted to you and the smile vanished off of her face, “Oh, you’re here.”

“Nana…” Eita sighed but didn’t make any move to get off of him.

“What? I thought you were going to break up with her?” she whined loudly, making your cheeks burn as people looked over at the two of you, “You said you were going to dump her!”

“I--” Eita started.

“You should go,” Nana grinned at you, shrugging her shoulders as she hugged Eita closer to her, “Seriously, he’s mine now. He was fucking me at that party instead of you.”

Although nothing about your relationship that night was real, the humiliation you felt at that very moment was. She was smug that she had gotten your boyfriend to cheat on you and was making a spectacle of her victory. 

Biting your lip, you reached behind you to grab your purse, “I-I’ll see you later, Eita.”

“______ wait!” he called but you were already rushing towards the entrance. 

You had no idea that he was hot on your heels until you reached your apartment. You went to close it only for the foot to intercept it. Looking over your shoulder, you found Eita panting before he was pushing the door open completely.

“_____ I--” he paused, “Why are you crying?”

“I am?” you wiped under your eyes and frowned when you felt the moisture there, promptly wiping it away, “Sh-She completely made a fool of me, Eita. I don’t know what you ever saw in her and I don’t know why I helped you get back with her.”

“I know, look…” he ran a hand through his already messed up hair, “I feel the same, alright? I’m sorry I pulled you into all this, _____, I really am. Alright, I told her to get lost.”

You sighed and took a seat on your couch, “She only wanted you back because you’re famous now. You know that right?”

He chuckled and sat down, nodding his head, “I guess I was just...hoping for something I guess.”

“What?” you asked.

He shrugged, “I don’t really remember anymore,” he confessed. 

“Well,” you didn’t quite know what to say, simply leaning back on the couch to appear relaxed, “I always wondered why you didn’t date after her anyway.”

He shrugged once more. How was he meant to say that he didn’t want anyone impeding on his time with you? 

“I guess...no one really came along, you know?”

You nodded, “I guess it’s the same for me.”

He snorted, “You’ve never even dated anyone before.”

“You don’t have to bring that up!” you whined, playfully shoving his shoulder.

He laughed, melodic and pretty, “I think it’s cute. What’s your story then?”

“Eita, we’ve been friends since high school, you know everything about me,” you smiled, feeling your cheeks warm at the soft look he was giving you.

“Yeah but…” he bit his lip, fingers inching closer towards you, “You’re...pretty and sweet. There’s plenty of good looking guys around me that have tried flirting with you before. Hell, Satori even said he was into you.”

You smiled and shook your head, “No, none of them are right…”

“Who is right then?” he asked, unable to hide the hopefulness in his voice.

“Eita…” the smile falls from your lips, your heart hammering in your chest as he moved closer towards you, “I…”

“Hm?” he hummed, his nose brushing against yours, breath fanning over your lips.

“I...I won’t regret this, will I?” you asked. 

His breathing stuttered against your skin and he shook his head, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, “You won’t.”

After those words left his mouth, he brought your lips to his in a sweet kiss that was perfect for a first. You could tell he was experienced, knowing exactly how to move. 

There was something sweet lingering on his tongue that you found utterly addictive. 

You wish you could find it strange or even scary to wind up in bed with your best friend. The fact your entire relationship was going to be changing should have concerned you but all you felt was anticipation. 

He hovered over your body, the two of you stripping your clothes with unhurried ease. His body was firm from working out, a habit he never let go of from his time as a volleyball player. 

His hands were calloused and warm as they touched your body, caressing your breasts in a way no one ever had. The feeling of him thumbing over your nipples had your back arching in arousal, your panties becoming soaked embarrassingly fast. 

He was hard and throbbing in his jeans, the constricting material almost painful but all he really cared about in that moment was seeing all of you. 

Hooking his thumbs into the band of your panties, he pulled the material down. He cursed under his breath at the strings of slick that attached to the fabric. 

“You’re so wet,” he breathed, licking his lips as he tossed your panties over his shoulder to be lost somewhere in your room. 

“Sh-Shut up, don’t tease me…” you mumble, feeling embarrassed by your body’s own reaction to him.

He smiles, pressing a soft kiss against your knee, “I’m not, baby. It’s sweet...I love knowing you react so honestly to me.”

“Eita…” you whined, reaching up to cover your face as he spread your legs.

“Hmm?” he bites his lip, sliding two fingers between your folds to spread them apart. 

Your hole clenched around nothing, drooling more slick for him to gather on his fingertips. He used it to rub smooth circles around your clit, the sweet moan that fell from your lips at the pleasure he so easily gave you. 

“I’ll get you nice and prepped, baby,” he cooed, the nickname making your heart soar. 

You were so wet, making it easy for him to slide two thick fingers into your pretty cunt. You clamped down tight around the digits, making his cock throb at the mere thought of what that would feel like around his hard cock. 

Twisting his wrist, he crooked his fingers up to hit your sweet spot, his thumb coming up to circle around your clit. The inexperience of your body made it so easy for him to bring you to the edge. 

You had never felt this, no one had ever touched you so intimately so your body was more reactive than ever. 

Reaching down, you wrapped your hand around his wrist, meeting his gaze with wide eyes. He smiled, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You cumming?” he asked, though he could very easily feel your walls spasming around him. 

Still, you nodded, mouth falling open but no sound escaping, “E-Eita…”

“C’mon, baby,” he groaned, fasting his pace to fuck your dripping cunt. The sounds were wet, lewd and if you were with anyone else you would have been completely ashamed. But it was Eita, the person you trusted the most in the world. He groaned as your body began to quake, “Let it go, pretty girl. Cum for me, that’s it.”

At his encouragement, you released with a shrill whine of his name. He eagerly fucked your gushing cunt through the high, only slowing when your back met the bed again. 

Pulling his fingers from your hole, he was mindful of your sensitivity. He still couldn’t resist placing a fleeting kiss against your throbbing clit before sitting up to meet you for another heated kiss. 

Your body was still trembling as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your thighs spread open around his waist. His clothed cock hovered above your sensitive core and he made sure the rough material of his jeans didn’t make contact.

“Please, Eita, c-can we…?” you asked, biting your lip, too embarrassed to utter the words.

He smiled and nodded, brushing some hair behind your ear before sitting up to discard the remaining clothing on his person. His skin was pretty, tanned and built. His cock reached his navel, dripping precum down the length which he used to easily slick his cock up with his fist. 

The sight of your best friend jerking himself off over your naked, trembling body felt beyond taboo. But it only made you more eager to have him. 

“Please, Eita...I want you,” you breathed. 

He flashed you a smile and sat up on his knees, sliding the dripping tip between your folds. Brushing past your clit, you whined at the sensitivity. 

“It might hurt a bit, pretty baby,” he whispered, positioning himself at your entrance. 

You had already guessed it. He was big just by looking at him. But nothing compared to when he began to sink into you -- that’s when his size really became apparent. 

“Ah, Eita!” you whined, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He hissed but didn’t stop you, eyes falling to where his cock was steadily stretching you open. When he got halfway in, he pulled back until the head remained within your clasping walls. With an experienced roll of his hips, he pushed his cock back in, this time easily bottoming out. 

“Fuck!” you squealed, back arching. 

He could feel you gushing, dripping down his balls. There wasn’t a single sign of pain in your features so he quickly began to move, the both of you riled up and eager to have each other completely. 

Everything felt so right, so sweet. Having him in your arms made you feel so happy. 

“You’re mine now, baby,” he groaned, burying his face in your neck, “All mine. N-No more, fuck, of this friend shit...I love you.”

“Eita,” you whined, tears pricking your eyes as you hugged him tightly against you, “I love you too. P-Please make me cum.”

“Fuck, I’ll get you there, baby,” he promised, reaching between your bodies to find your clit. Your walls immediately clamped tight around him as he played with your little bud, “C’mon. Cum for me. I wanna feel you cream, pretty baby. Can you do that for me? Show me how good this cock makes you cum.”

His filthy words, whispered in his sweet, deep voice were enough to throw you over the edge. As you squeezed around him, trembling and gushing through the amazing orgasm, he spilled within you. A soft whimper of your name fell from his lips as his balls throbbed, cock spitting out load after load until you were so filled, it dripped from your cunt. 

Finally, the both of you stilled. He leaned back to look in your eyes, tucking some damp hair behind your ear before pecking your lips. 

“I meant it, you really are mine now,” he said.

You nodded, “You’re all mine too.”

“Well,” he gave you a teasing grin, “You have to share me with my millions of adoring fans.”

“Don’t be so full of yourself,” you giggled, biting your lip as he pulled out, “You have thousands at most.”

“Oh, way to bruise a guy’s ego,” he laughed.

You were grateful to have him, everything with him was so easy. Everything between you was fine, perfect even. And you didn’t have to worry about ever losing him to another girl again.

[persephonewritessometimes]

It’s Gettin Hot In Here (18+)!

Summary: The AC stops working at the BAU, leading to a very distracting afternoon.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x (F) Reader

Word Count: 1647 (i got carried away)

Warnings: SMUT, minors do not interact! if you’re under 18, KEEP SCROLLING! Soft dom!Hotch, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), oral (fem receiving), biting, some bratty reader, fingering

Key: y/n = your name

“Hotch, come one, it’s miserable in here, are you sure we can’t just go home?” you asked, fanning yourself with a case file.

The AC had gone out at around 9:00 AM this morning, leaving its inhabitants drenched and sweaty and wishing for some form of relief. The company swore they were coming to fix it, but you highly doubted it.

“We still have to go through these files, Y/N.”Hotch said, raising his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes and returned to the files in front of you. You pulled at your shirt, desperate for any kind of relief. The fan that Garcia brought into the conference room sputtered weakly before giving out completely. You and Morgan groaned in unison, Reid seemingly unbothered by the whole predicament. In that moment, you got an idea. You didn’t let yourself think about it before saying,

“Can I take my shirt off?” You asked. Hotch’s eyes widened, his mouth falling open.

“Yeah, babygirl, take your shirt off!” Morgan hooted, then suddenly found somewhere else to look as Hotch glared at him.

“Sorry, that came out wrong. What I’m saying is, I have a tank top on underneath this sweater, and I’m dying over here. Please.” You looked up into his face with puppy dog eyes. He sighed and gave a slight incline of his head, the only signal of ‘yes’ he would give you.

You pulled the maroon sweater up over your head and off, the sticky skin grateful to be free from the confines of fabric. Your tank top was black, with lace trim on the bust and bottom of it, and showed off a good amount of your cleavage, but it was better than wearing that stupid sweater. 

You slung the sweater over the back of your chair, and bent down to pick up the file that had slid off your lap as you had taken your sweater off. You straightened back up, file in hand and met Hotch’s eyes. His cheeks colored and you realized that you had just put your whole chest on display as you had bent down. Your own cheeks flushed and you hurriedly looked away.

The rest of the afternoon seemed to drag by, but you started to feel better after you had taken your sweater off. You worked through file after file, feeling Hotch’s eyes burn holes into you. You had to admit that it was getting you hot and bothered, more than you already were from the lack of AC. Every so often you would look up at him through your eyelashes, winking at him when he would glance back at you. The first time you did it he choked on his water, and Morgan almost died laughing. JJ and Prentiss had stuck their heads in to see what the commotion was about, and they ran off laughing, to tell Garcia that Hotch had choked on his water. He glared at you after that altercation, but it hadn’t stopped you from doing it more than once.

You liked to see him flustered. You liked to know that under all the sternness, there was a man who could lose his cool because of you. You also knew that if you continued to tease him, he would make you pay for it, and you couldn’t wait to get him alone.

You threw your pencil on the ground, not even trying to make it look like an accident. As you bent down to get it, your boobs pressed together, looking like they were trying to escape from the fabric, Hotch leaned down too to grab your pencil. 

Each of you now had one hand on the pencil, the look he gave you shot straight to your core.

“Stop teasing me.” He hissed, dark brown eyes glinting with something other than anger.

“What? I have no idea what you’re talking about!” You said, smirking at him. He dropped his side of the pencil with another glare at you, but his eyes dipped down to your chest before he returned to his work.

You were really turned on now. You shifted in your seat, desperate for any kind of friction. Reid asked why you were fidgeting, and now it was Hotch’s turn to smirk. You babbled out some lame excuse, now concentrating on not fidgeting.

The end of the day couldn’t come soon enough. You snatched your sweater off the back of the chair and hustled towards the front door.

You were almost to your car when you heard from behind you,

“Not so fast, princess.”

Your knees threatened to give out from under you as you turned around to face Hotch.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home. Where there’s air conditioning.”

“I don’t think so. You’re coming with me.”

“Yeah, no.” You said, just to see what he would do. You fumbled with your keys in your purse yanking your car door open just in time for Hotch to slam it shut. You turned around to face him, stunned.

“You’ve been teasing me all day. Don’t think you can just drive home and get away with it.”

“Get out of my face, Aaron.” You said sticking out your chin, despite the fact that you very much wanted to kiss him right now. His face was mere inches from yours. You moved to push him away, but he grabbed your wrists. He grinned before meeting your lips in a searing kiss. You opened your mouth to him, and he swept in immediately, claiming your mouth as his.

He pulled away from you to whisper, “Come home with me.” You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

He helped you into his car before putting the car in drive and peeling out of the parking lot so fast you shrieked, as he looked over at you grinning. You barely made it into the house before he was all over you, hands hungrily grabbing at your hips, as you two stumbled into the bedroom.

“This stupid fucking tank top,” He growled, before ripping it over your head and throwing it across the room. Your bra followed shortly. He grabbed your breasts in his hand, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You moaned as he leaned down and took one in his mouth. Your hands found their way to his hair, gripping it tightly as he lavished your breasts.

He let go of your nipple with a pop, looking up at you with nothing but lust in his eyes.

“Are you going to let me taste this pretty pussy?” He said, nothing kind in his voice.

“Yes, yes, please Aaron.” You fumbled over your words as he helped you out of your dress pants and underwear. He laid you back on the bed before settling between your thighs, nipping, then kissing each of them. He gave no warning as his face darted to where you needed him most. You moaned as he lightly rolled your swollen clit between his teeth. You arched your back at the contact, but Aaron slid his arm over your abdomen forcing you down. You whined at the intense feeling.

Aaron slid his other hand up to your mouth, tapping on your lips. You opened them without hesitation, swirling your tongue over his fingers, and sucking, just like he was sucking on your clit.

After a few seconds he slid his fingers out of your mouth and trailed them down your body before coming to rest at your hot entrance.

“Aaron, please.” You whined. You could feel him grin against your pussy as he suddenly thrust his fingers into you. You cried out at the feeling as he found that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. He thrust quickly, knowing that you were close. Your thighs were starting to tense up and you felt that bubble of pleasure in your abdomen. All of a sudden the bubble popped, and you came with a cry, Aaron finger fucking you through your orgasm. 

When you came down from your high, he kissed you softly, and you kissed him back.

“You ready for me, princess?” You nodded, words escaping you. He ripped his pants and boxers off, cock springing to attention. It was red and leaking, desperately needing attention.

You leaned forward and stroked it up and down softly, marveling at the silky skin. Hotch groaned, his hips stuttering forward into your hand. He softly grabbed your wrists, pinning you to the bed as you felt him guide his cock around your clit before carefully sliding into you.

You both groaned when he was completely inside of you, the feeling close to euphoria.

“Hotch,” you gasped, “Fuck. Move. Please.” He responded by pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. He set a brutal pace, hips snapping against yours, the obscene sound filling the bedroom.

He could tell you were close as you reached your hand down to toy with your clit. He watched as you played with yourself, hips meeting yours.

“Come inside me.” You gasped, as you were almost at the peak.

His hips faltered. “Are you sure?”

“Need to feel you.”

He resumed the pace, replacing your fingers with his own. He harshly toyed with your clit and you came with a cry, his cock still driving into you. He panted, feeling his own release barreling towards him. He leaned down and as he came, he bit down, hard, on your neck as he filled you with his cum. 

He pulled out of you, panting, when he was spent. He kissed your shoulder where he had bitten you, and winced.

“I think that’s going to leave a mark.” He said, color creeping onto his cheeks.

You grinned up at him, “I hope it leaves a mark.”

“The AC needs to go out more often,” he said, before kissing each of your cheeks before meeting your lips for a tender kiss.

[kakyoingdom]

hey i found out how yo ask:D now my request is praise kink,daddy kink and orgasm denial +3+ madara and hashirama

The Lucky Ficlet, 08

HI!

this is the last one! and, anon, i hope you like it from the bottom of my heart! i wrote that with a fucking smile and it made me soooooooooo happy! i mixed Hashi and Madara into the same scene and yeah, threesome. sorry if you don't like to read it tho :(

but thank you for asking it, all of you that helped my with my first event! mwah <3 <3

it seems i don't like following my own rules omg but

your surprise ficlet match is: madara and hashirama + daddy kink and praise kink + 3: bedroom floor | 4,416 words

warnings: nsfw. unprotected sex, praise kink, belly bulge, daddy kink, "babygirl" used, oral (both f and m receiving), creampie, madara is a respectful man to hashi's wifey, face sitting, doggy style, that one position i can't remember the name that feels so good but hurts so bad.

“Are you sure both of you are not going to think of me like a whore after it?”

“You trust me, don’t you?”, Hashirama murmurs, his chin resting on the top of your head, holding you tight against his chest. He is so tall over you, protective and lovely. His hands caressing your high back and nape, you feel small and a little bit relieved. “I know he seems to be mean, but he’d never disrespect my darling. Neither would I, I was the one who came up with that idea and I’d never ask you if I wasn’t sure of you well-being”.

“Hmm”, you nod, still concerned about sharing your room and bed and body and— with Uchiha Madara.

It all started the day Hashirama, by your side on your bed, late night, looked at you with hesitant eyes. He held your soft hands, kissing your face and neck like every night, but he was too silent. Maybe something was wrong with the Leaf Village, or with his Hokage tasks, so you didn’t press him to speak. At his time, he’d tell what he wanted to. It worked like this for a couple of years and was good enough for you.

But Hashirama said his day was great. His job is quite tiring, but he loves to see his dream becoming true. Nothing seemed to be wrong or different from the other days besides that strange silence from him. He asked your questions and, after making sure you were good and had a nice day too, stopped talking. You could only hear his breathe, his nose on your neck, like he loved to do before falling asleep.

“My love?”, he called when you were already with closed eyes, wondering about nothing important. “I know you are very open-minded and everything but, oh”, you could bet his cheeks were rosy against your skin. His fingers traced incoherent draws on your collarbone, a shiver going down your spine. “Would you consider letting Madara join us one day?”

Your hands started to shake. You wanted to say a casual yes — how could you deny? You did have an open-mind, never getting too astonished about sexual things that Hashirama (or even you) wanted to try every once in a while. Yet you hesitated. Was this a kind of test? Why this suddenly? You couldn’t even imagine Hashirama ever thought about sharing you with his friend, so you got a little confused.

“Don’t need to answer me now”, your husband said when you opened your mouth to say you didn’t know and needed to think about it. To be honest, you never thought about it, Hashirama being the only one for you was more than enough. Madara was nice and everything, but you didn’t know if you could handle the fact of those scary eyes watching your naked body, you didn’t know if you would be attracted to that man. Your eyes were Hashirama’s only, nothing more.

You did hope to try a threesome one day — for experience? — though you didn’t want to mess everything up and be the third wheel between the other two. The more you thought, the more confused you got. Hashirama could feel your tension about it and was on his way to tell you to forget about it when you finally said you’d give it a chance. Just a nod and a casual “okay, let’s try it”. Nothing more. He got amazed by the lightness of your words, the tiny small making him trust you even more. You looked so brave and carefree that when the day finally came, your nervous eyes really made him wave and ask if you really wanted to continue.

And you did. It was nothing, right? Just taking clothes off in front of your husband, but he’d share you for a few moments. It was so dirty, but this only made you more excited, yet your concerns kept in your mind, ghosting all your thoughts. It would be good, Hashirama promised you and you trust him with your soul.

“Hm, right, what do we do now?”, you look up to face his gentle eyes, pretty mouth in a casual smirk. You touch his chest under his robe, the firm muscles making you way more vibrant about having him. You are not thinking about Madara anymore, letting things just happen. Hashirama doesn’t answer you, kissing your parted lips after pulling your body next to him. He kisses you deep, his tongue exploring your mouth as his fingers squeezes your waist and pulls you in his direction, and you’re now on tiptoe. He presses his thigh between your legs and you rub yourself on his flesh covered by the light fabric, letting a whimper out of your mouth.

“You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”, he mumbles, moving his leg between yours. You nod with a pout, needy eyes that he loves to see and can’t just ignore. Hashi knows you need his fingers, his tongue, his cock, and he is eager for giving all you want. But you knew you’d have to do what he wanted to, obedient and submissive. He gives you another small kiss. “Behave when Madara comes, can you do it for me?”

You make a face at his words, but nod again. You body tenses a little when you hear steps coming from the door of your and Hashirama’s room. Hashirama caresses your inner thighs over the fabric of your blue nightdress, your skin burning wherever he touches. You left a muffled mewl, putting your forehead on his chest, not wanting to look back and see Madara. But soon you feel an extra pair of hands on your waist. Madara doesn’t walk forward, you notice. Was he waiting for a sign from his friend? You look up and Hashirama is moving his lips, “come on, she’s a good girl, she’s not going to push you away”. You feel tempted to chuckle with the thought of Uchiha Madara actually hesitant to something he wanted.

Then he seems to agree with Hashirama, because his hands reach your boobs, pressing them together. You exhale in surprise, your orbs looking for Senju’s at the same time. He kisses the top of your head and gives you a comforting smile, his thigh close to your panties rubbing your skin softly. You know Madara is approaching, his firm body against your spine causing to tense even more. He sighs loudly, taking his hand to your collarbone and lower neck, surrounding it in a very daunting way. You gulp and hold both of Hashirama’s shoulders, almost uncomfortable. You never got any man touching you besides your husband and it was weird as hell, though his rough strokes were making you a bit interested on what he could do to you.

“I thought you had her open to our ideas, Hashirama. I can only see a scared girl. Didn’t you train her well?”, he says, playfully.

The thought of relaxing soon left your mind, his words sounding so mean you had to look back and stare at Madara with stoic eyes. “Fuck you”, you say back, your voice firm and neutral. “I’m not scared. Haven’t you learned that you can’t just hold my neck like I’m your whore?”

Hashirama presses you tighter against his body, his leg no more touching your inner thighs. You feel like complaining about it, but keep in silence as he stares at you with those joking eyes, but his mouth is in a serious line. You roll your eyes discreetly as you man answers Madara, almost happy with your words.

“Go easy on my baby”, he puts his hands on your neck as well, both of them stroking the sensitive skin. “I did train her to behave, but she’s used to being only my whore”, he completes, talking as if you weren’t there. You get wetter with his words — you aren’t that into degradation, but sure he knows how to use bad words and yet make you feel like a queen. You enjoy his other hand petting your head, waiting for a kiss that never comes.

Instead, Madara laughs and takes your nightdress off effortlessly, Hashirama lifting your arms so he could throw it away. You instantly feel the cold wind of the night, the window open helping it and cross your arms in front of your body.

“So, Hashirama, control that tongue of her”, he pinches your nipples over the thin fabric of your bra. He was absolutely pleased to see you from behind, though he couldn’t wait to watch your boobs wiggling while your cunt is fucked deep by him. Your ass looked so good, the skin ready for having his palm print. “Or I’ll do it myself”, you whine when he presses his hard cock between your booty cheeks and pushes your nipples with no mercy, as you stare at Hashirama, waiting for him to do more than just help you to keep on your feet.

“Do you want something, baby?”, he puts one of his fingers on your lips and you get it with your tongue, sucking slowly. He knows those eyes of yours, so pitiful and needy. You shake your head, ready to speak, but he puts another finger into your mouth. “Tell me, then”, his words are so, so mean. When did he become so bad? You knew that if you stop to suck his fingers he’d make you beg for it once more, but he was telling you to answer! What are you supposed to do?

Madara squeezes you tits harder as his mouth finds its way to your neck, licking your skin. You moan against Hashi’s fingers and begin to mumble “I want you touching me, daddy, not him”, your breathy voice making your sentence way rude. His nails reach your throat and you almost choke, a few tears filling up your eyes.

“Repeat it for me?”, the Senju says. You don’t do it, so he takes his touch off you and walk backwards, a playful smile ghosting his lips. His lips, you want them so much, why is he acting so mean with you? You feel a little bit sad when he says he’s disappointed. “Didn’t you say you were going to behave? I’m not seeing it”. You pout, but accept what he is saying with a sad look.

“What can I do to—”, you begin, but Madara decides it is a good time to make you kneel. You sit on your legs to counteract what he wants you to do. Hashirama sighs and tells you to kneel and stay quiet. Madara chuckles devilishly. “So she just obey daddy?” You nod, but he is not looking at you. His friend, you husband, is agreeing and adding mean, mean words. You can’t help but complain about it in your mind, since a loud complain would leave you with lots of trouble.

“Call him daddy too and obey him, right, sweet girl? If you do it as he tells, he is going to be gentle”, he lowers his voice. “If you want to stop you know the sign”.

You frown and don’t answer. Madara walks and stop in front of you, his tall silhouette making you lean backwards. He pulls your hair gently — you feel genuinely surprised with his slow moves — until your face is almost touching his bulge under his pants. His thumb caresses your red cheeks and you enjoy it, before his palm softly hit your face. You inhale. Why are you feeling aroused by him? Fuck, the only man you’d ever let slap your face is Hashirama, but why your clit pulsed and your wetness grew?

Madara freed released his cock from his pants and underwear and you bit your lip, kind of nervous. You did want to have your tongue controlled but Hashi should do it! Not him, not his cock. You cried a little when you saw his dick, but the arousal grew up once more. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You didn’t want to think about how good it must be to have him inside you. Or call him daddy too.

No. No way will you do it.

It takes less than a minute to make you change your mind. Madara doesn’t seem to care about your stoic ass face or your mouth closed. He knew and could bet you are dripping to feel his length inside your mouth, to take him and let his tip reach your throat.

“Suck it, little one”, he uses the petname with a smirk you can hear. You try to deny, but you want it as bad as he does, so you think twice. You block guilty thoughts when Hashirama, his voice making you melt and stop acting like a brat, tells you to do your best. “I promise you’ll get your reward before finishing it”.

Reward is a good thing, always. Pretending it is the reason you’re giving in, you let his cock enter your mouth slowly, licking every inch of it like a good girl. Like his good girl, you think and close your eyes. No. You’re doing it because Hashirama said so. You trace his veins skillfully, easy to get to a point you can’t get more, his red tip deep into you. Madara groans as his hands guides you softly, in and out of your mouth.

It doesn’t last, though. He is too aroused to keep it easy, besides all Hashirama’s warnings. He wants to make you cry with his cock, rough and unstoppable. Madara would never let this opportunity run through his fingers — he didn’t think neither Hashirama nor you would accept it so easily. It was an opportunity of a lifetime, seeing that face of yours struggling to take his flesh. Madara could see anger in your eyes, but lust as well. His finger strokes your eye, getting a tear that was threatening to fall.

“Now I see why Hashirama is so proud of his girl”, you hear him praising, his hips violently making his cock go in and out of your mouth. Your legs shake a little more when you have to stop and breathe deep so you don’t choke for real. “Her mouth is a small piece of paradise. Bet her cunt is way better, uh?”

You don’t usually like it. Having him speaking as if you are somewhere else, not right there, sucking him off, should have made your ego hurt and your heart break. You don’t like to be ignored. However, listening to it made your cunt pulse and stretch against nothing. It is driving you crazy, Hashirama and his friend gladly praising and using you.

You don’t know when he got there, but you felt known lips against your full cheek, still receiving Madara’s length. Hands perfectly squeezing and pressing and printing its mark on your ass, on your thighs, on your tits, everywhere. You couldn’t help but moan loudly when Hashi’s fingers unkindly reach your panties and, pushing the fabric aside, one finger enters your cunt.

“Keep sucking him off, you’re doing great, baby”, Hashi whispers on your ear. You like the way it sounds like a secret of both of you. Happy, you put your hands on Madara’s strong thighs and lick all his flesh, kissing and making it wetter with your saliva. The Uchiha sighs loudly and groan when you whine against his dick. He can hear Hashirama’s digits going in and out of you, lewdly noises coming off it and his own cock being worshiped by your precious mouth. Fuck, he is going to feel jealous to the rest of his life — you have a pretty face, gorgeous body, a fucking nice mouth that fits him so well. You’re just fucking perfect.

Hashirama knows it. It’s so exciting for him to see Madara almost angry because he knows you can’t be his. You are being shared with him, but the man that gets your velvet tongue every day is the Senju leader. Hashirama’s fingertips abuse your sensitive spots inside you, his curled fingers driving you mad. It is too much, you think when it becomes too difficult to keep giving attention to Madara’s cock with all the pleasure you were feeling.

You don’t when it happens. You feel dizzy and fall back to Hashi’s lap, your fingers pressing Madara’s skin as he seems to look satisfied? And you look up to see your husband’s face, his fingers slowly fucking you, your clit being stimulated by your inside walls. Too sensitive, too painful, too good. You had that especially dumb ability of not knowing if you had come or not, so he had to show you his fingers — white, wet and going to Madara’s mouth. You mumble incoherent words when you see his fingers being sucked by the other man. He is… Tasting you. “Tasty cunny, girl”, Madara says. It felt illegal to watch, so you close your eyes just to open them again as another pair of fingers invade your cunt.

You whine immediately. Those fingers are thicker than Hashirama’s, calloused and rough. A finger — you know it’s Hashi’s now — rubs your clit as fast as he was doing when you were sucking off Madara. The floor is not comfortable, but you can’t ask them to stop. You don’t want to — it is feeling so good, your body falling down until your legs are around Madara’s body.

“Daddy”, you whisper, hoping Hashirama answers you. “Let me suck your cock too… I miss it fucking my mouth, daddy”

Your voice tone makes both Madara and Hashi stop suddenly. You cry, but soon Madara holds your body carefully bringing you to your bed. However when you are about to cry another phrase, your ass is up to the air, your tits pressed against the mattress. You couldn’t help — being all on fours is the way Hashirama loves to see you when you’re crying over his cock.

“Good girl”, is Madara that praises you, yet his voice is tough. “Sit on my face, now. I want to hear you calling my name while I taste you”, he puts his head under you and pulls your hips down. You try to keep your eyes open as you watch Hashirama takes off his clothes. It is the most damn beautiful thing in the world, his skin exposed, his strong chest and abs, his arms, his thighs, everything. Is there a way you can love him more?

You roll your hips against Madara’s mouth, conscious of his tongue licking your juices shamelessly, but he grabs your body and makes it hard to move. “Be quiet for daddy”, his voice is breathy, raspy and implies a punishment if you don’t obey him.

And you don’t try to move again, whimpering lowly, even when his touch leaves your hips and goes to your ass, grabbing hard. At the same time, you look down to Hashirama’s cock — hard for you only, his hand slowly stroking himself as you stare at it with pleady eyes. Hashirama grabs a fist full of your hair and forces your head down. You tease him a little, sucking the tip as your hand jerk off the length that isn’t in your mouth. He pushes your head up and gives you a smile that make you shake and moan loud. Madara is also craving for your attention, uh?

“Do it properly, babygirl. Daddy really wants to fuck your pretty mouth, but you gotta help me”, he doesn’t wait for you to reply, and you put the maximum you can of his dick inside your mouth. You curl your tongue against his hard flesh, appreciating in a different way you were with Madara. There’s passion on sucking him, letting him control all of your moves and thrusting his cock with no mercy.

You feel the most loved woman in the world.

At the same time, Madara keeps sucking your clit, forgetting about your dripping cunt. He is really focused on making you moan loud with Hashirama’s cock inside you, stimulating you until your limits. You let your head moves being commanded by Hashi’s hands, feeling weak. You notice you can’t fucking feel your legs, the touch of the Uchiha man being the only thing that makes your body firm enough so you don’t fall on his face. Not that he’d complain about it.

You finally give in — moaning loud, this time you know you’re having an orgasm. Numb head, messy moves, your teeth even hits the cock in your mouth by accident. Madara enjoys the sound of your struggled cries, heavy breathe and his name. Madara-sama, he could swear it was what you said. His hard cock felt a little bit harder, painfully eager for being inside you.

If it wasn’t dangerous territory, Madara would have taken you that moment.

“Stop now, babygirl”, Hashirama tells you. You obey him and look at him with dizzy eyes, not knowing where to focus on. “Madara, fuck her cunt the way you prefer. But wait for her to beg for it. Wait her words, and then she’s your doll”

Madara raises an eyebrow, devilish smile on his lips. Hashirama smirks too and you see both of them in a secret conversation. Madara gives in with a sigh.

“She’s my wife, Madara. What would happen if she gets pregnant and the baby born an Uchiha?”, he justifies and you make an ‘o’ face. So he wanted to cum inside you? Your cheeks become hot with the thought and Hashirama sees it. His hands are soft on your cheeks. “Though I think she’d love it. Don’t worry, right? Daddy is going to fill you up until the last drop”.

“Shut up, Hashirama. How do you think I can tease that lovely whore?”, you feel his tip threatening to enter you, but the moment never comes. You know what you have to do. Call his name, beg for his cock, lets him use you as he pleases. However words don’t come. You can’t think properly, just look at him with big doe eyes.

“Put just a few centimeters inside and let her beg for more”, Hashi suggests, so mean. You pout. “It never fails”.

It is true. Whenever he wants to punish you a little, or even just listen to your shaky voice crying for his full length, he does it. Madara’s tip enters you with much effort of his, fighting against the reflex of going deep and fucking you dumb. You close your eyes and bite a lip so you don’t speak anything. Hashirama is not happy about it, so he continues.

“Rub her clit.”

You feel it right after his sentence. You exhale and look at Hashirama.

“Daddy, please, stop teasing me”, you whine. His finger points to Madara. “I’m not able to change it”.

“Hm. Madara-sama, please, stop teasing me”, you say, but your voice is not convincing. You roll your hips.

“Oh, I think she doesn’t want me, Hashirama. I’m offended”, Madara pushes him inside you a little more. You moan and cry his name once more. “Please, please, please, fuck me until I can’t remember my name, I just need it so bad”, you cry, low voice. You feel a smack on your face, gently, as another, rough, goes on your ass.

“Louder”, Madara says as his cock goes deep into your wet cunt. His hands go to your waist and pull you. You moan loudly, but seeing Hashi, you call for his name. You receive another slap from the two men, and you smirk. Good, good, so good. You could cum just with that lustful glance deep in your eyes. You are feeling hotter than never, having the most powerful men fucking you in different ways. His pace, after you calling the Senju’s name, is fast and hard. Roughly he takes his cock out of you and pulls it back into with a delicious moan.

As he uses you, you lay your head on your husband’s lap, his cock by your side. You continue to suck him off but with all your body trembling and shivering, you can’t do much more than passing your tongue against his flesh. You love the feeling of being stretched by Madara’s cock, yet thinking and remembering about Hashirama.

That’s why your walls squeezes Madara’s cock so strongly. He moans loud as he buries himself into you. “You have a delicious whore here, Hashirama”, he whispers, taking strength of nowhere to stop fucking you. You cry a little when he gets out of your needy cunt, too weak to form a decent phrase.

“Calm down, babygirl. This time is daddy that is gonna fuck you. Ready?”, Hashirama says, pulling your body and being on top of you. He puts your legs on your shoulder and enters your cunt rapidly. He has no time for teasing or joking, but he looks to Madara by his side. “Learn how to end with this girl”.

It hurts when he goes that deep into you, though is good as hell. His tip abuses your g spot then go further as he kisses you messily. Your nails on his back almost hurt him, yet he sees as a way to make his hips moves faster. Your muffled moans against his mouth are making Hashirama goes deep inside you, with all the strength of the shinobi god. Fuck, fuck, fuck, all you can think of is the feeling of your walls burning, probably his cock evidenced on your belly. And he knows it too, pressing it just to test something, he thinks.

And you’re done after less than five minutes. Hashirama feels his dick firmly squeezed by your cunt, as if you wanted him to stay like this forever. And you do want this. “Daddy”, you mumble, happily. “I love you. Thank you”, you look at Madara and thank him too, Hashi’s cock still into you. Madara uses one of his hands to enjoy and press your tits, the other one rubbing your clit just the way he did before.

You are going to die, aren’t you? Why does it feel so painfully good? Orgasm after orgasm you feel your voice giving up, raspy moans being the only thing you can do to make sure they understand you’re having a good time.

When Hashirama finally comes, his seed into you, and Madara jerks himself off on your tits, you have no strength to look at the men in front of you. Just a tired smile and you fell asleep. You’d thank Hashirama for it later.