#they re keeping him under wraps

[proffesionalalpaca]

Arcane season 2 trailer ‘Come Play’ is epic & hype as shit.

I also think they’re using the clips of the mage from season 1 as stand-ins for Viktor’s scenes to preserve his transformation into the machine herald/ hex-mage.

- I just want to believe! Where is this man?!

[likeumeanit9497]

like a pornstar | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: when y/n, chris' best friend, confesses that she has never finished during sex, he decides to change that

warnings: smut; oral (fem receiving); unprotected p in v; dirty talk; established friendship; squirting; 18+

notes: back again with a friends with benefits smut (shh im manifesting). i hope the chris girlies enjoy, and matt girlies don't worry my next one shot is for u ;) love y'all <33333

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

“Hey! You’re gonna eat all the popcorn! Give me some.” I exclaimed before snatching the half eaten bag of popcorn from Chris’ grasp. He tried to say something in a rebuttal, but all he got through his mouthful of popcorn was garbled words and a slight spray of kernels. “Oh god, you’re foul.” I said jokingly before wrapping my leg around his to lighten my words. “Just hush, I can’t hear the show.”

Chris and I had been best friends since elementary school, and had always had a bond like no other. When he had moved out to California a few years ago, I had really struggled with the loss of seeing him practically everyday. But since then, I had been able to come out and visit him multiple times, and it was so exciting to have him show me the new life that him and his brothers had built for themselves on the other side of the country.

In the past, each time I had visited him in Los Angeles the weather had been amazing, so I had forced Chris to explore all over the city with me. However, this visit had been nothing but rain, so him and I had done little more than what we were doing right now: curling up under the covers with some snacks and a couple joints, binge watching all of our favourite shows from high school. We were currently re-watching Euphoria — one of my all time favourite shows — as a light trickle of rain acted as background noise.

As we worked through our snacks, the scene where Maddy and Nate’s relationship dynamic is described played. I popped a handful of popcorn in my mouth, relishing in the nostalgic feeling that the show brought me, as the scene continued on to describe how Maddy watched porn to study how she should look and sound during sex. As the character arched her back on her bed, her eyes plastered to a device playing porn, I let out a small chuckle.

“What?” Chris turned to me with a confused smile. “Nothing. It’s nothing.” I replied, shaking my head and shoving more popcorn into my mouth to stifle my ridiculous laughter. “Brooo, tell me.” He whined, grabbing my shoulder and shaking it jokingly. I rolled my eyes at his dramatics. “Oh my god, fine! I was just laughing because I used to do that.” I finally responded, and Chris turned to me and raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Wait, what?” He brought a fistful of candy to his mouth. “I used to study porn too, not to get off on it or anything, just to like know what I was supposed to do.” I admitted, feeling my cheeks grow warm as Chris just stared blankly at me.

Finally, Chris blinked a few times, pulling himself out of his blank stare to resume eating snacks. “I don’t understand that honestly,” He began, reaching his hand into the popcorn bag between my legs, “I feel like when you’re in the moment all of those sounds and movements and stuff come naturally, don’t they?” I shrugged before responding. “Not for me, to be honest. I’ve never really had any sort of sexual interaction that made me feel good enough to act and sound like a porn star.” I chuckled, keeping the conversation lighthearted. This wasn’t the first time Chris and I had talked about our sexual experiences, so I felt comfortable being honest with him.

But when I fixed my gaze back onto him, I was met with a confused expression. “So does that mean you’ve never…” He dragged out his sentence, seemingly too afraid to complete it, so I saved him the trouble and answered his unfinished question with a solemn shake of my head. At this, his eyebrows shot up in what seemed to be total shock, complete with a dropped jaw. “You’re not serious, Y/n.” He said simply, and I once again shrugged my shoulders. “I mean it’s pretty common for girls to not be able to finish during sex, you know that.” I replied, to which he titled his head to the side and looked off into the distance.

“I guess so, but I’ve personally never ran into that problem before.” He replied, a cheeky smile taking over his face, and I rolled my eyes. “Oh Jesus, well too bad not all men are the Christopher Sturniolo.” I joked, unintentionally stroking his ego before refocusing my gaze on the show. The room was silent for a brief moment, both of us back to watching the show, before Chris spoke up again. “I just think that’s really fucked up. Sex should make both people involved feel good.” I wrapped my leg tighter around his. “Well aren’t you a crowd pleaser.” I joked. Turning to once again face him, I was expecting to be met with his classic grin. But instead, his face was serious; his mouth was set in a straight line and his blue eyes had darkened.

His expression was one I rarely saw, but it made my stomach tighten subconsciously. My throat suddenly felt extremely dry, and I couldn’t speak. My breath hitched when Chris brought a hand under the covers and placed it gently on my bare thigh, rubbing small circles into the skin. And my head began to spin when he shifted his body so that he was completely facing me. “You know, I bet I could make you sound like a porn star.” His poker face was finally replaced with a smirk, this one much more sinister than the one that I usually saw cross his face. He used his hand on my thigh to guide my legs open before brushing a finger just barely against my clothed heat; causing me to gasp. He leaned closer to my frame, already quivering in anticipation, and nibbled gently at my earlobe before whispering.

“Let me make you feel good, Y/n.”

He kept his mouth right there against my ear as he waited for a response, and I could feel his rapid breaths against my skin. My brain was in shambles, and I couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Chris and I had been best friends for so long, but not once had things turned sexual. This was completely uncharted territory for me, and I couldn’t imagine it ending well. But, his hand that was resting in between my trembling thighs and his whispered proposition had already caused my panties to grow damp, so I threw all of my sensibility away by grabbing his jaw, drawing his face to mine, and crashing my lips onto his.

Immediately, Chris worked his lips against mine. They moved in sync as his tongue slipped into my mouth with ease; dancing around my own and filling me with more desire. He brought his other hand under the covers to grab onto my other thigh, where he squeezed harshly before using his grip to pull me up on top of him. Still attacking my mouth with his, he rubbed his hands up and down my body as I straddled him, taking care to focus his attention on my more sensitive parts.

He broke the kiss briefly to pull my oversized t-shirt over my head, before taking a moment to admire my bare chest in his direct line of sight. Without hesitation, he attached his mouth to one of my tits, nibbling and swirling his tongue around my sensitive nipples; causing my body to break out in goosebumps from the sensation. After he took his time on the first, he moved his mouth onto the second, and the new contact caused me to subconsciously grind my pelvis against his thigh; eliciting a moan from me. My erotic sound caused his eyes to shoot open, looking up at my face, before he detached his mouth from my tit to speak. “Real moan?” He asked, his lips swollen, and I nodded my head before grinding my hips against him once more. “F-feels good.” I mumbled, and at that he readjusted himself so that he was sitting up against the headboard; giving me more stability.

“Then keep doing that. Wanna see you feeling good.” He replied, shifting my body so that my core could press right up against the highest point of his thigh. I didn’t hesitate long before resuming my movements, this time moving at a much faster pace; losing myself to the sheer pleasure that the friction of his pants granted me. Chris’ mouth reattached to my nipples, but his eyes never left mine as he took in all of my contorted facial expressions and soft moans. He allowed his lips to travel along my chest up to my neck, where he suckled gently before muttering. “I don’t want you to fake anything, baby, just want you to tell me when it feels good and when it doesn’t. Okay?” I nodded my head frantically, squinting my eyes from the overwhelming pleasure I was feeling.

I looked down to where my body was writhing against him, and even through my shorts and panties I had left a dark patch from my arousal against his grey sweats. Rolling my eyes to the back of my head in bliss, I had never before grown that wet during sex before. I felt my legs begin to weaken around his thigh, and an overwhelming feeling begin to bubble up inside of me. I knew it was my orgasm approaching, but I was hit with a sudden wave of nervousness that was preventing me from reaching it.

“C-Chris, I can’t,” I panted out, and his eyes were immediately on mine. “You can’t what?” He replied, gripping my ass with both hands and helping me grind myself against him. “C-can’t finish.” I replied honestly, feeling my eyes well up with frustrated tears. I had never felt this good in bed with someone before, and still, I couldn’t get myself to cum. “Hey hey, it’s okay,” Chris used his grip on me to stop my movements completely, “It’s an overwhelming feeling, it’s sometimes hard to give in to it.” He brought a hand up to my cheek and stroked it affectionately. “Lie down here.” He patted the space in the bed where I had previously been, and I obliged, resting my head against the pillow.

Once I settled myself, Chris crawled on top of me, resting his weight on one arm. He began kissing me again, this time much slower than the first, and once my heart rate began to slow I took it upon myself to deepen the kiss; pulling his bottom lip gently with my teeth. This elicited a deep moan from Chris, and I felt him grind his clothed member against my core before dragging his mouth down my jaw and neck; leaving harsh kisses in its trail. I watched through droopy eyelids as Chris’ body traveled down my own, and my breathing increased once again when he reached the waistband of my shorts. He toyed with the band for a moment, slipping two fingers under the material before looking back up at me.

“I just want you to relax, lay there, and tell me when you feel good. Can you do that Y/n?” His voice was soft, but it was the unmistakable undertone of gruff arousal laced through it that caused my stomach to flip. I nodded quickly, bringing a hand to his forehead and brushing a few stray hairs back. “Okay.” I replied, causing him to smirk before slowly pulling my shorts and thong down my legs. Once my clothing was completely discarded, Chris encouraged my knees to bend and spread my legs open; exposing my dripping heat completely. “Hmm, so pretty Y/n.” He said lowly, taking in the glistening folds just centimetres from his face.

I watched as he dropped soft kisses along my outer folds before using his hands to spread me open slightly. His mouth inched closer and closer to my aching core, and when he finally connected to it I released a shaky moan. Immediately, he used his tongue to expertly manipulate my clit, causing me to see stars almost instantly. It was clear by his movements that he knew what he was doing, and I had to grip onto his messy curls in order to keep myself in place as he continued. “Is that good baby?” He asked against my bundle of nerves, moving one of his hands from my folds down to my entrance, teasing it in circles as he waited for a response.

“S-so good Chrissy.” I managed to get out before he reattached his lips, this time slowly plunging a digit into me as he continued; causing my hips to buck. “Shh, stay still honey.” He mumbled, still working his tongue and fingers in sync against my heat. The combination of his tongue against my clit and his finger plunging up into my g-spot was staggering, and I was once again feeling the undeniable signs of an upcoming orgasm. Every inch of my skin felt like it was being set on fire, and the pressure in my lower stomach was so intense, it felt like I was going to pee.

I had reached orgasms on my own before, but none had ever had a build up as intense as the one I was currently feeling with Chris. I felt like I could explode, but still, I was struggling to let go once again. “C-Chris, I d-don’t think I — I don’t think I c-can do it.” I cried out, gripping onto his hair like my life depended on it. At this, Chris added a second finger and increased his speed. “Yes you can baby, I know you can. Just breathe and let your body do what it knows to do.” I squeezed my eyes shut from the pressure, and did as he said and released shaky breaths. His movements had the same level of intensity as before, but there was an unspoken level of desperation to them now; clear indication that he wanted to get me there.

Even though it seemed impossible, the pressure inside of me kept getting stronger and stronger. My legs were shaking on either side of his head, and my breaths came out as guttural moans. I felt my body detach from my brain, and I knew I had lost all control over what was going to happen. Just then, the strongest orgasm I had ever felt completely engulfed me, and I could do nothing but cry out in pleasure. My back arched off of the bed, overwhelmed by the extreme sensation. Feverish, strings of erotic notes fell from my mouth, and they could barely be heard over the ringing in my ears.

Mouth agape, I watched in awe as the pressure in my stomach was finally relieved by a rush of fluid shooting from my core. At this, Chris murmured “Oh fuck.” before detaching his lips from my clit and swiftly rubbing it; spraying my fluid all over his face and exposed tongue. My orgasm rippled through me like a tsunami, and left me in a figurative and literal puddle once it died down. Once he drank up all my juices, Chris planted a soft kiss against my clit before dragging his body up mine.

Once he was face to face with me, he gave me a deep kiss. “How was that?” He whispered with a grin on his wet face. Still catching my breath, all I could do was nod. He played with my hair for a moment, tranquility clear on his face, before he suddenly shifted his weight and began climbing off of me. “W-wait.” I said, grabbing hold of his waistband and stopping his movements. He looked down at me with a confused expression, and I wordlessly moved my hand to his crotch, where I was met with what seemed like a painfully hard member. “You’re not gonna fuck me?” I asked, batting my eyelashes innocently as I watched his taken aback expression.

In the blink of an eye, his face darkened once again and he returned to his position above me. “You want me to?” He asked, his face buried in my neck where he peppered it with soft kisses. “Mhmm.” I hummed, using my hand to palm him through his sweats. At that, Chris didn’t hesitate to pull his pants down, leaving his cock exposed. I gasped at its size that had been somewhat disguised when it was still concealed in his sweats, but began pumping my hand up and down as he shuddered in pleasure.

Attaching his lips back onto mine, Chris grabbed onto his shaft and lined it up with my opening. He slid it up and down my folds a few times to collect whatever was left of my previous orgasm, before slowly sliding into me. I gasped at the feeling of my walls stretching around his impressive girth, and we both moaned in unison once he bottomed out. He stayed still for a moment, allowing me to adjust to him, before he began slamming his hips into me.

With his forehead resting against mine, he watched me as I contorted my face into expressions of pleasure, relishing in the feeling of being filled by him. His gruff breathing and occasional deep moans were like music to my ears, and I dug my nails into his bare shoulders to keep him close. “Fuck, your pussy feels so good around me. Not gonna last long.” He groaned, using one of his arms to wrap my leg around his waist. The new angle allowed him to go deeper, and I felt his member slam into my g-spot repeatedly; causing my stomach to fill with that familiar sensation. “Oh god Chris, you’re s-so big.” My voice was coming out squeaky as he continued to pound into me, and he released a harsh moan in response.

I lost myself in the waves of pleasure as they hit me, growing closer to my second orgasm with each of his powerful thrusts. Chris’ gaze on me was so full of lust — clenched jaw, droopy eyes, lower lip trapped in between his teeth — I would have collapsed from its magnitude if I wasn’t already lying down. His motion suddenly shifted from one that was hard and fast to one that was deep and slow, and I couldn’t help but release sharp gasps on each thrusts.

I could tell that I was close to my second orgasm, but he was closer. His breathing was growing more and more rapid, his pace was sloppier, and beads of sweat were dripping down his forehead. As if he was reading my mind, he moaned out. “I-I’m close, want you to cum with me.” My eyes rolled to the back of my head, his words already getting me closer to my high, but I knew I needed to get there faster.

Reaching between us, I found my clit and began rubbing it vigorously. Chris’ eyes followed my hand, and when he realized what I was doing he smirked proudly. “Atta girl.” My action seemed to give him a bit more energy, as his movements began picking up the pace once again; and I found myself on the edge of another orgasm. “Ah fuck, Chris, gonna cum again.” I cried out through my gasps for air just before my second orgasm hit me like a freight train. I felt my walls contract around his swollen member, and that was enough for him to reach his high as well.

Gripping tightly onto my shoulder, Chris plunged his twitching cock in and out of me; driving both of us through our orgasms. I gasped when I felt his fluid shoot deep into me, and savoured the verbal confirmation of his pleasure in my ear. Our moans flew from our mouths in harmony, and it was only once his body stilled above me that I removed my hand from my clit.

We stayed in that position for what could have been hours, catching our breath and falling into the lethargic temperament that always came after sex. Finally, Chris lifted his weight off of me and slid his softening dick out from my core, offering me an apprehensive smile. He stood up and walked into his washroom, coming back over to the bed with a towel to help clean up the mess in between my legs before doing the same to his member. Once I no longer felt like a bowl of jello, I sat up on the bed beside him.

“Well?” He asked, his tone playful as he wiggled his eyebrows awaiting my response. I rolled my eyes before grabbing my top and throwing it over my head. “Would you believe me if I said I faked all of that?” I asked, unable to keep the smile that was toying with the corners of my mouth at bay. He blew air out of his mouth and looked up at the ceiling. “Absolutely not.” He replied, and I laughed. “I hate to gas you up like this, but that really was amazing.” I finally said honestly, resting my head on his bare shoulder.

He chuckled before grabbing my hand and stroking it gently. “Glad to be of service.” He replied, removing his hand from mine and instead wrapping his arm around me completely. “You turned into my little porn star there for a minute.” He followed it up by making high pitched moan sounds, mocking me and breaking the wave of silence that had followed his last comment. I laughed, lifting my head off of his shoulder and coming face-to-face with his goofy smile. “You ever use that against me in the future and I will bite your head off.” I replied, shoving his shoulder gently. “I won’t, swear. But you can use me again in the future if you wish. Y’know, in case you ever want to cum like that again.”

My jaw dropped at his filthy words, but I couldn’t help but feel heat flood to my core once again. Smirking, I raised one quizzical eyebrow. “One more?” I asked, and watched as his face was overtaken by a smirk that mirrored my own. “Lay down and put your legs on my shoulders.”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[skyrigel]

Take a look at my gf trend with Simon

“No way !” Soap annouced smugly,“ Ghost would be caught dead than doing—”

“ Will this do cupcake ?” The door of your bedroom fell ajar, Simon stepped out, his enormous hands carrying a small dainty Polaroid of him in his whole gear.

“—a stupid trend.” But the words were passed away in a gasp, He frowned at your boyfriend or his comrade in war field.

You winked at him, balancing a smirk as you hopped to your big man, taking a look at the Polaroid and giving him your most jovial nod while he leaned to peck your head.

“ Who are you ?? And what have to done to our lieutenant!?” John said accusingly, his face scowling in humour.

“Get ya' ass out, peanut and I need to film a video.” Simon wrapped his arms around your waist, while he waved his Polaroid from other to the door.

“ Or you can help us film it.” You laughed, making him scoff, 'as if'.

~~~

Everywhere I go I keep her picture in my wallet like here—

You waved the Polaroid of your man happily in the camera, Simon's big fingers stopped the video and then he looked up at you.

“Oh my god ! I love you so much babe.” You giggled and told him cheekily, a flush creeped your face and neck as he adjusted himself behind the Polaroid, he was your big-big man, with his puffed chest and wide shoulders and muscled arms, his skully balaclava still on his face and you were he grinned at you, the way his hand rested on the small of your back.

“Anything for my princess.” He said with a glint in his eyes, and you just wanted to kiss him square on his mouth, hard and forever.

You un paused the video, 3,2,1-

… Take a look at my girlfriend

You pulled back the Polaroid, revealing your big man and Riley baby pulled you to him, cupping your whole body as he flicked up his balaclava enough to kiss you through the audio was done, your shirt riding up as climbed on your tip toes despite Simon was leaning his best to claim you.

Some time later while your clothes were tossed somewhere and you were resting on his chest, re-watching the draft.

“ We need to shoot it again.” You huffed, trying your best mock glare at him, he watched your with oozing love, putting his finger under your chin.

“Ofcourse Princess...Got distracted this time.” He smirked, and you just about died.

I never seem to get a lot (ba ba da da, ba ba da da)

Grim Reaper! Simon

Masterlist

[shotmrmiller]

A/N: I simply had to join on writing for John 'just the tip' MacTavish so. Here goes. Unedited, its horny its explicit yall know the deal. It was supposed to be a drabble and i got completely carried away. got me out the writing slump tho. any mistakes please ignore. CBF!Johnny because I say so.

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader

WC: 1.6K

Flipping through Netflix, you hear a rapt at the door. You turn to look at your dad, who gets up quickly as if expecting someone. 

“Johnny, my boy! I’m glad you could make it! Had me thinking you forgot all about us. Come on in!” Your dad pulls Johnny in for an affectionate embrace that he returns immediately.

“Och, yer aff yer heid! As if I could ever forget my second family!” Giving your dad a final pat on the back, Johnny steps back. “Now where’s my girl?” 

Lifting the hand holding the remote, you call out. “Present!” 

Johnny almost trips over the coffee table, rushing to you. He doesn’t wait for you to stand up, just snatches your wrist and lifts you for a hug— your socked feet dangling by his shins. With his strong arms wrapped around you, he pulls you close, nuzzling his face against your neck. “Missed ye, bonnie,” he murmurs, “missed ye so much.” 

As you exhale a wheezy breath, you tell him, “I love you too, Johnny, but I can’t breathe.” One last squeeze, and a squealed “Johnny!” he finally relents, setting you down. 

Hands resting on your shoulders, his striking blue eyes lock onto your face, flicking across your features, as if he was re-memorizing what you look like. His intense gaze rushes blood to your cheeks, but don’t shrink under it. It wouldn’t be the first time your best friend teases you like this. “Somethin’ on my face, Johnny boy?” and bat your lashes at him, “I know I’m staggering to look at, but now you’re just being shameless.” 

He lets out a huff, a small smirk gracing his lips, and mumbles, “Don’t I know it.” Your taunting smile falls off your face at that. What? Before you can even ask him what he means by that, your dad calls him into the kitchen. 

“Johnny! Come get a beer, it’s about to be movie time!” Without breaking eye contact, he answers him, “Aye! Comin’!’ and with a finger tap to the underside of your chin, walks away. Heart pounding against your chest, you head towards your bedroom to get a blanket, hoping the little walk calms the butterflies in your stomach. 

What?

The movie is playing, and Johnny is curled up behind you on the reclined sofa, roughened palm resting on your thigh, occasionally squeezing it. You’re mortified at the slight arousal you’re feeling just at being caressed by Johnny. Johnny. Your best friend. Who has consistently had girlfriends, who will never look at you that way. You’ve never thought of him that way either, granted, but that’s what makes this so embarrassing. Maybe you’re ovulating, biology simply reacting in the presence of a virile male, or something. 

And then you feel the unmistakable bulge of his stiffening cock, faintly pressing against your arse. Gods. Heat radiating off of your face, you bite your lip and try to discreetly wiggle away, for his sake and yours. However, Johnny seems to disagree with your thoughts because he moves his hand from your thigh to grab your hips in a bruising grip, fingers digging into your hipbones, forcing you to be still.

He leans into your ear, warm breath tickling your cheek and softly whispers, “Dinnae move, hen,” and sluggishly starts to rock his hips, erection now firmly rubbing against your sleeping shorts. Johnny’s movements are imperceptible, nonexistent underneath your blanket. Not that it would matter, because the movie is reaching its climax, and all eyes are glued to the screen.

But your mind is solely focused on Johnny— the heat of his hands scorching against your skin, his prominent length hidden underneath his pajama bottoms grinding on you. 

“Lift yer leg a wee bit, hen.” Keeping a watchful gaze on your parents, you silently plead that they won’t notice as you hide your compliance under the guise of trying to make yourself comfortable. Once settled, you lowered your leg and had to bite your tongue with force, to keep the moan from slithering out of your throat. 

His cock, bare, right in between your thighs. Like warm velvet wrapped around steel, thick, heavy, tip pushing against your core with every minute thrust. Johnny moves even closer, arm tight around your waist, hand sliding into your bottoms, heading straight towards your soaked, swollen clit to rub feather-light delectable circles on it.

“I’m gonna stick just the tip in, a’right? I swear,” he says in a hushed tone, as he pulls back to lower the waistband of your shorts to rest on your upper thighs, “just,” he thrusts once, “the”, again, “tip.” and his leaking head slips into your hole— pushing it in until your walls flutter around it. 

“Ye feel incredible, squeeze that tight pus—” your dripping cunt cuts him off, drawing out a hiss of surprise from him. His subdued voice in your ear is so seductive, so bewitching, that you can’t help but clench around him. 

For most of the movie, Johnny languidly thrusts into you, truly keeping to his word. Just the tip— teasing you, making you drip onto the sofa, muted squishy, gooey noises coming from under your blanket, and you couldn’t be bothered by any of it. Flared, ridged head catching on your slippery lips with every drag of his cock. You’re drooling on your hand that covers your mouth beneath the snug blanket— struggling to hold back the mewls and whimpers threatening to escape. 

All of a sudden, Johnny mutters, “The movie’s about ta end, close yer eyes and keep completely still. Stabilize and deepen yer breathin’, hen.” Without hesitation, you do as he says, body going limp in compliance, the only tell-tale sign of your excitability being the rapid pulsing of your jugular on the delicate skin of your neck. 

The TV is turned off, and the living room goes completely silent, apart from the deafening sound of blood rushing in your ears. Johnny behind you feigns quiet snoring, so believable that if it wasn’t for his throbbing cock still at your entrance, you’d think he actually fell asleep.

Your dad’s poor imitation of a whisper cuts through the quiet. 

“They’re asleep, let’s just leave them here.” Footsteps shuffle as they tip-toe around you both, and as they get farther away, Johnny slowly moves his hand to cover yours, truly weighing down on it. The instant their door clicks shut, he uses his other hand to pick up your leg and throw it over your shoulder, and thrusts hard, deep, until his bollocks are flush against your arse. Your nails claw at the hand over your mouth as you scream, your gummy walls stretching against his assault— a burn so exquisite, pleasure teetering on the edge of pain, achingly delicious, it sends tendrils of ecstasy directly into your veins.

He lets out a guttural moan, one only you could hear, private, intimate. “It’s about time ye let me have this sweet pussy, hen.” One vicious thrust that punches the air from your lungs and rattles the sofa, and then another, when he finally speaks again. “Fuck, we hae ta do this when we are nae restricted, hm?” His hips start a slow rhythm, long, unhurried undulating thrusts, and every time he bottoms out, he grinds his pubic bone on your clit, the tip of his cock giving your cervix a lewd kiss. Every time he reaches the entrance of your womb, it feels like he wants to go in further, to go past the dead end, and your cock drunk mind only thinks about how you want him to do it, too. 

“Yer slobberin’ all over my hand, hen. S’that good, is it? Oooh, I ken it is. Only the best fer my girl, hm?” He hisses through clenched teeth, “I’m fuckin’ close. Come f’me. I’m not comin’ until ye cover my cock with yer cream, leave a white ring at the base.” His hips have been moving at the same exact speed he started at, not a stutter in his pattern. As if him fucking you into a puddle of arousal wasn’t taxing on his part. 

Then he does something different, something that threatens to snap that coil in your lower tummy, and along with it your sanity. He starts giving shallow thrusts, never pulling out more than halfway, and makes sure to rub against your clit, giving you that heavenly friction you need. It has you delirious, fervent, and you start moving your own hips, uncaring of how you must look.

Johnny moves his thumb down to your nub, drawing tight, precise, merciless circles on it, and you are thrown over the edge— more like kicked off by a spartan kick from how gut-wrenching your orgasm is ripped from you. Your pleasure is so acute, so powerful that there are needle-like pricks on the shell of your ears. Your body shakes underneath Johnny, pussy throbbing and pulsing with the aftershocks of your blinding climax. 

Drool escapes under Johnny’s palm, dripping down your cheeks and into your hair as you fall back, going completely limp, utterly spent. Finally getting back some coherency, you realize that Johnny’s gone soft inside of you, also drained, as he catches his breath holding himself over you. He removes his hand, uncaring that it’s sticky with your spit, and noses your cheekbone, nudging you to slant his lips over yours, curling his tongue against yours. He swallows the pathetic mewl you let out and presses one final kiss onto your lips. 

“I’ve missed ye, hen. I’m so happy to be here, with ye. Let’s move to your bedroom, and in 10 minutes, I’ll give ye a proper fuckin’.” 

Your eyes close shut as you let out a resigned but elated sigh. 

“I love you too, Johnny.” 

@rookiesbookies and forgive the tag but i had you in mind too @brewed-pangolin ill never do it again unprompted

part 2

[pucksandpower]

Buns in the Oven

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: six times that someone finds out you and Charles are expecting

Pascale hums to herself as she plates the final dish for lunch — a lovely risotto she spent the morning preparing. Her son will be arriving any minute with his girlfriend. Pascale hopes the meal will help settle the nerves she’s noticed in you lately during your visits.

The doorbell rings and Pascale rushes to greet Charles and you at the door. “Welcome, welcome!” She pulls you both into an embrace. “Lunch is all ready, come to the dining room.”

You follow behind Charles, the aroma of the risotto already making your stomach turn. You try to keep your queasiness hidden as you take your seat at the table. Pascale notices your complexion is pale.

“Are you feeling alright, dear?” She asks with a furrowed brow. “You’re looking a bit green around the gills.”

You force a smile. “I’m okay, just not very hungry I suppose.” Your eyes go wide as Pascale heaps a generous serving onto your plate.

Charles squeezes your hand. “Come on, mon amour, Maman’s risotto is the best. You have to try some.”

You pick up your fork with shaky hands and manage a few bites under Pascale’s watchful gaze. But your stomach is quickly revolting, the rich food making you extremely nauseous.

“If you’ll excuse me ...” You abruptly push back from the table and rush down the hall to the bathroom, hand covering your mouth.

Pascale and Charles exchange a worried look as they hear you retch violently. After a few minutes, you re-emerge looking miserable.

“Oh dear, I knew you weren’t feeling well,” Pascale tuts, rising to her feet. “You just sit tight, I’m going to run out for a little bit. I’ll be right back.”

Without waiting for a response, she hurries out of the house. Pascale strides quickly down the street toward the pharmacy on the corner, her mind racing. She grabs a basket and makes a beeline for the family planning aisle, snatching up a few different brands of pregnancy tests. She pays and rushes back home, clutching the tests behind her back as she re-enters the dining room.

You and Charles have pushed your chairs together, his arm wrapped protectively around you as you lean into his chest with your eyes closed. The plates of risotto sit congealed and abandoned.

“You two look awfully cozy,” Pascale quips lightly. You startle upright and blink at her with bleary eyes. “Y/N, I left something for you in the bathroom. Go check it out, won’t you?”

You furrow your brow in confusion but rise and head for the hall bathroom. Pascale settles back at the table and takes a sip of her now-lukewarm tea, the picture of nonchalance. But out of the corner of her eye she watches Charles, who stares intently down the hall from where you disappeared.

Not ten seconds later you come barreling out, nearly bouncing off the doorframe with the pregnancy test boxes in hand.

“Ch-Charles!” You stammer, eyes wild. “Look!”

He flies out of his chair and towards you so fast it clatters to the floor. You both disappear into the bathroom, the door closing firmly behind you. Pascale smiles knowingly to herself and refills her teacup.

Several minutes pass in tense silence, the only sounds an occasional murmured exchange from the bathroom, volumes too hushed for Pascale to make out. Suddenly, a dull thump rings out and Pascale is on her feet in an instant.

“Charles? Y/N?” She calls, heart pounding as she rushes for the bathroom. “Are you both alright in there?”

When she reaches the bathroom, Pascale finds Charles crumpled unconscious on the tile floor. You kneel beside him, face stark white and completely motionless except for the shaking of the positive pregnancy test clutched in your hand.

“Oh my goodness!” Pascale drops to her knees beside you both. “Charles? Charles, wake up chérie!”

She gently taps his cheek until his eyelids flutter open. Charles blinks dazedly up at the two concerned faces hovering above him.

“Wh ... what happened?” He props himself up on his elbows, still looking dazed. His eyes go comically wide as they land on the test in your hand. “Y/N … are you ...”

You finally seem to emerge from your stupor. With trembling fingers, you turn the little plastic stick towards Pascale, revealing the two pink lines clearly indicating pregnancy.

“I … I’m pregnant,” you whisper, voice barely audible over the thundering of Pascale’s heart. A wide smile slowly spreads across her face as tears of joy spring to her eyes.

“My darling girl, come here!” Pascale pulls you both into her arms, squeezing you tightly as happy tears roll down her cheeks. “I’m going to be a grand-mère!”

***

Fred Vasseur strides briskly through the Ferrari motorhome, eyes scanning the room for Charles Leclerc. FP3 is about to begin and he wants to go over the strategy one more time before the session.

He catches sight of you sitting on a plush sofa, your son Jules playing contentedly at your feet with a handful of toy cars. A small smile tugs at Fred’s lips watching the rambunctious two-year-old animatedly providing his own race commentary.

As Fred nears, he notices the oversized bowl in your lap containing an … interesting snack choice. You dunk a dill pickle into the creamy peanut butter, taking an enormous bite and humming with apparent satisfaction. Fred’s brow furrows slightly at the peculiar combination.

“Bonjour Y/N,” he calls out warmly as he approaches. “I was just looking for Charles before FP3 begins. Have you seen him?”

You swallow thickly and look up with a start, as if just noticing Fred’s presence. There’s a brief pause before you seem to find your voice.

“Oh! Fred, hi,” you reply breathlessly. “Charles is — um, he’s down in the garage doing some final prep I believe. With the mechanics.”

“Merci.” Fred nods, eyes straying back to the snack dish with poorly disguised interest. “I don’t mean to pry, but … may I ask what it is exactly you’re eating there?”

A flush rises on your cheeks as you glance down at the pickles and peanut butter. “Just … satisfying a craving, I suppose,” you mutter, almost embarrassed.

Fred throws back his head with a rumbling laugh. “I see, I see. The way to a pregnant woman’s heart, no?”

The words are out in a jovial tease before he can think better of it. But almost as soon as they’ve left his lips, Fred notices the way your entire body tenses, pickle dropping from your slack fingers to the ground with a dull thunk. Jules looks up at the commotion, brow furrowed in childhood confusion.

Realization dawns across your features as your hand moves unconsciously to hover over your abdomen. A look of incredulity and wonder flits through your widened eyes.

Fred feels his heart stutter in his chest. “Y/N? Are you ...” He trails off, suddenly uncertain if he’s overstepped.

Your gaze snaps up to lock with his, mouth working soundlessly for a long moment. Fred waits with bated breath, muscles coiled tight with anxious anticipation.

Finally, you find your voice. “ I… I’m not sure,” you whisper hoarsely. “I didn’t think — but, the cravings ...”

Without warning, you’re on your feet, scooping up Jules and clutching him to your side with one arm. Fred instinctively reaches out to steady you, but you brush him off distractedly.

“I have to … I need to tell Charles,” you murmur, half to yourself as you lurch forward, nearly colliding with a chair in your haste.

“Y/N, wait!” Fred catches your elbow gently but firmly, halting your frantic movements. You turn wild eyes on him and he gentles his voice. “Deep breaths, ma chérie. Why don’t you sit back down for just a moment? You’re looking a bit peaky.”

You stare at him for a beat, chest heaving, before seeming to collect yourself somewhat. With visible effort, you force your shoulders to relax incrementally and draw a shuddering breath.

“No, it’s okay, I … I should go find Charles,” you decide, more composed this time though your grip remains vice-like around your son. “He needs to know. We can’t be sure, but ...”

You trail off, gnawing anxiously at your bottom lip. Fred searches your flushed face, wondering if he should say more or simply stay out of his driver’s personal affairs. But before he can decide, you’ve found your determination again.

“Thank you, Fred.” You flash him a tight smile and shift Jules higher onto your hip. “I’ll just … go track him down then.”

With that, you spin on your heel and hurry out of the hospitality tent in the direction of the team garage, leaving a bemused Fred to stare after your retreating form. He shakes his head slowly, a wry grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Well, it seems congratulations may be in order for the Leclercs,” he murmurs under his breath. “Again.”

Fred watches you disappear into the crowded paddock, a tiny part of him hoping you do end up being pregnant. Despite the extra challenges, there’s nothing quite like the look of joy and pride on Charles’ face whenever he speaks about his wife and child. Fred can already envision his star driver beaming like a spotlight if blessed with another baby.

A chuckle rumbles from his chest. Oh, to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. Somehow, Fred gets the sense Charles might be in need of a fainting couch again this time around.

***

Max lets out a loud whoop as he slams back his fourth — or is it fifth — shot of tequila. The pounding bass and flashing lights of the club have his blood thrumming with adrenaline despite the late hour. Singapore really knows how to rage after a race.

He swivels his head, surveying his surroundings with a lazy grin. Most of the other drivers seem to be just as enthusiastically embracing the raucous celebrations. Lando has his shirt recklessly unbuttoned to an obscene degree as he grinds shamelessly with some random group of club-goers. Pierre is presiding over an intensely competitive beer pong tournament at one of the VIP booths, eyes slightly unfocused.

Only a few meters away, Max spots the familiar silhouettes of Charles and you tucked away in a dimly lit corner. He throws back the dregs of his drink, grimacing at the burn, and stumbles in your direction with a mischievous smirk.

“Well, well!” He crows loudly as he approaches. “If it isn’t the reigning world champion getting cozy with his lady!”

You startle at Max’s boisterous presence, but quickly settle back against Charles with a warm smile tugging at your lips. The Monegasque driver, however, is far too wasted to register much beyond a bemused grunt of acknowledgment.

Max can’t help but snort at the besotted expression scrawled across his former title rival’s face. Charles has his arm wrapped possessively around your waist, head lolled back against the plush booth as he gazes at you with hopelessly unfocused eyes. You rest your hand tenderly upon his cheek, murmuring something inaudible against the throbbing bassline of the club music.

A waiter appears as if on cue, offering a tray laden with fresh cocktails that look suspiciously potent. Max opens his mouth to thank the server, only to impulsively snap it shut again as Charles’ hand darts out with impressive coordination for his state. The world champion snatches the entire tray before you can react, proceeding to methodically down every single glass in quick succession without further preamble.

You roll your eyes fondly, not even bothering to attempt retrieving your confiscated drink. When Charles finally resurfaces, gasping for air and looking totally glazed, you tuck an errant curl back from his forehead.

“Feel better, my darling disaster?” You tease.

Max realizes with some confusion that you haven’t touched a drop, watching on with that same gentle amusement. Charles lets out a indelicate belch and slings an arm around your shoulders, tugging you back against his chest.

“M’gonna need anutha ...” He slurs blearily. You emit a tinkling laugh that causes Max’s brow to furrow even further.

Suddenly, it all clicks into place. His eyes go wide, sweeping over your glowing features with a mixture of surprise and delight. No wonder you’re passing on the booze tonight.

“Wait just a second ...” Max takes a stumbling step closer, throwing out an accusatory finger that has you shying away in alarm. But the wide, delighted grin quickly morphs his features from confrontational to conspiratorial. “We’re gonna have another Leclerc in the mix soon, aren’t we?”

You freeze in Charles’ arms, exchanging a loaded look with your flushed husband. The giggling from earlier falls away as you bite your lip, seeming to hesitate before finally sighing in resignation. You glance back at Max with a sly smile.

“September 1st,” you confirm simply.

Max lets out a raucous bark of laughter, nearly doubling over as he clutches his stomach. September 1st … doing the quick mental calculation informs him the little bundle of joy was likely conceived right around ...

“Oh my god, no way!” He howls, tears of mirth leaking from the corners of his eyes. “The World Championship euphoria must have really gotten to you!”

Charles looks bewildered, mouth hanging slightly ajar. You shake your head despairingly, burying your face against your husband’s shoulder in a feeble attempt to contain your own giggles. Max just wheezes harder, undoubtedly disturbing every single neighboring party-goer with his undignified cackling. He braces his hands on his knees, trying in vain to catch his breath.

“I can’t … I can’t even begin!” He gasps between hysterics. “You couldn’t keep it in your pants for like, five measly minutes after winning in Abu Dhabi!”

Max can only shake his head gleefully, finally recovering enough to straighten and wipe his streaming eyes on his sleeve. Charles tugs you closer against his chest, swaying gently from side to side with a dopey smile.

“S’true though, isn’t it?” He mumbles, resting his cheek atop your head. “Made the mos’ of m’championship … glow.”

You try in vain to suppress your grin, smoothing your palms over the sculpted lines of your husband’s abdomen. Max is genuinely touched at the tender gesture, the undeniable depth of adoration written across both your expressions.

He suddenly feels tremendously sentimental, booze and euphoria swirling together in a giddy vortex of affection for his friends.

“Alright, alright,” Max waves them off in mock dismissal, clearing his throat loudly. “As nauseatingly in love as you two are, someone simply must balance out the team affiliations in this family.”

You and Charles both quirk matching skeptical eyebrows at him.

“Oh yes,” he nods resolutely. “Just as soon as this nephew or niece arrives, I’m going to start spoiling them absolutely rotten.”

The grins bloom across both your faces, Charles tightening his arms around you in a silent display of pride. Max glances down at the tender picture you make, feeling a profound swell of joy at having front row seats to his friend’s happiness.

Somehow, despite the alcohol and chaos swirling around the two of you, the little cocoon of perfect serenity and contentment you’ve so carefully cultivated remains completely untouched. It’s a rare oasis of tranquility in the middle of an otherwise chaotic life, and Max wouldn’t have it any other way.

Well … he wouldn’t exactly mind if a few more boisterous new additions gradually joined your ranks. Good thing he plans on being the very best enabler around. He just hopes the two of you aren’t hoping for more championship babies, because Max certainly won’t make winning any easier.

***

“I still can’t believe how big the kids are getting,” Arthur remarks with a warm smile, watching as Jules and Helene race miniature car models across the living room rug. Little Lucien toddles along in their wake, shrieking with delight whenever he gets close enough to swipe at one of the toys.

“Tell me about it,” Charles groans, slouching further into the plush sofa cushions. You laugh lightly beside him, one hand absently smoothing Lucien’s tousled curls as the toddler momentarily loses interest in the activity and plops down at your feet.

“You’re getting on a bit yourself there, old man,” Arthur teases his older brother. “Half life crisis and all that?”

Charles fires him a withering glare. “I’m only thirty two, you little shi-” He cuts himself off abruptly, clearing his throat as his gaze darts towards the children. You swat his chest in remonstration.

“Language!” You admonish. “We’ve talked about this.”

Chuckling, Arthur leans back and props his feet up on the battered ottoman. “Don’t worry Y/N, I’ll be sure to teach the little ones all the good swears when they get older.”

“You most certainly will not!” You shake your head vehemently. But the mock scowl quickly melts into a warm smile. “Honestly Arthur, what are we going to do with you?”

“Keep me around for the free childcare, obviously.”

The quip draws a bark of laughter from Charles. You roll your eyes fondly, gathering Lucien up into your lap for a cuddle as the toddler makes grabby hands. Arthur observes the scene with a contented smile — it’s so wonderful having his brother’s little family over to visit now that they’re all in Europe again.

“I have to say, you and Charles make some cute kid-”

Arthur’s affectionate teasing is abruptly cut off as a furry brown missile comes barreling through the open doorway. Bruno, Arthur’s three-year-old golden retriever, zips excitedly into the room with his tongue lolling out.

“Bruno, no!” Arthur calls out, but it’s too late.

The pup lets out a joyful bark and leaps straight up onto the sofa cushions. Arthur watches in dismay as Bruno tramples over Charles’ lap, nearly kicking his brother in a very sensitive area. Charles immediately shoves the dog away with a muffled curse.

But Bruno seems singularly uninterested in his distress. He makes a beeline for your side of the sofa and immediately nuzzles his way under your arm to plop his head insistently onto your abdomen. You startle slightly at the sudden weight in your lap, Lucien giggling and patting curiously at Bruno’s silky fur. The pup simply sighs contentedly and closes his eyes, fluffy tail thumping rhythmically against the cushions.

Arthur lets out a low whistle, watching in bewilderment as the usually hyperactive Bruno settles in to nap right against your midsection. The perplexed expressions on both your and Charles’ faces don’t escape his notice either. Charles half-heartedly tries to shove Bruno away once more, but the dog whines pitifully and refuses to be dislodged from his spot curled up in your lap.

“Bruno!” Arthur calls sternly, lurching up from his seat to attempt removing his pet himself. But something gives him pause just before he reaches the sofa.

Dogs are remarkably intuitive, after all. And there’s an old adage about them possessing a sort of sixth sense when it comes to picking up on certain … conditions.

Arthur’s eyes go comically wide as the pieces click into place in his mind. He settles back on his heels, scrutinizing you with newly narrowed focus.

“You know, they say dogs can sense that kind of thing before anyone else ...” he remarks slowly, gauging for a reaction.

You and Charles both freeze, eyes snapping up to regard Arthur as if he’s grown a second head. A strange, loaded silence seems to fill the room for a long, drawn-out moment. Arthur witnesses an entire conversation pass wordlessly between you with just a single cursory glance.

Jules and Helene remain obliviously absorbed in their game, but Lucien blinks up at his parents with a quizzical frown. You gingerly disentangle your youngest from Bruno’s embrace and deposit him back on the floor before scooting to the edge of the cushion.

“You don’t think ...” You murmur under your breath to Charles, hand drifting reflexively towards your abdomen. Arthur watches as his brother simply shrugs helplessly, mouth hanging slightly ajar.

“I … well, I mean … it would explain ...” Charles looks utterly dumbfounded for once. Arthur doesn’t think he’s ever seen his typically unflappable older brother so flustered.

Your eyes bore intensely into Charles’, searching for any hint of confirmation. As if on cue, the dog in question opens his eyes and blinks placidly around at the three adults regarding him with such rapt scrutiny. Bruno seems unbothered, merely lolling his tongue and nuzzling closer against your belly. For the second time today, Arthur witnesses that fleeting, wordless communication pass between you and Charles in a simple glance.

A slow, radiant smile spreads across both your faces near simultaneously. You look back down at Bruno with new, unbridled adoration, carding tender fingers through his thick fur. Charles releases a disbelieving huff of laughter under his breath as he reaches out to skate reverent palms over the subtle swell of your abdomen that Bruno seems so enamored with.

And just like that, all the wind goes out of Arthur’s sails.

“No way ...” he gapes, eyes darting between you both in awe. “You’re actually ... seriously?”

You and Charles share another loaded look — this time, both your expressions are absolutely lit with unmitigated joy and pride.

“We … haven’t confirmed it yet or anything,” Charles finally replies, voice barely above a rapt murmur. “But we haven’t not been trying.”

Your husband’s words seem to snap Arthur out of his stupor. He leaps up from the ottoman, unable to contain his own delirious grin as he practically bounces with exhilaration. A cheer builds up in his throat, only to be smothered at the last second when he remembers the little ones playing obliviously nearby. Arthur exhales it all on a harsh rush of air, practically vibrating with excitement.

“That’s … oh my god, you guys!” He has to resist the urge to reach out and envelop you both in a crushing embrace. “Another baby! I can’t believe it … Bruno, you clever little shi-uh, clever boy!”

Arthur drops to a crouch in front of the sofa, gently scratching behind Bruno’s ears. The dog thumps his tail happily, clearly preening under the praise for his remarkable intuition. Arthur glances back up at your mirthful expressions.

“I guess dogs really can sense that stuff, huh?” He shakes his head in wonder. “Maybe the two of us can start a betting ring and make some easy money.”

That finally breaks the spell. You both dissolve into peals of laughter, all the giddiness and disbelief seeming to finally crest over in a tidal wave of utter euphoria. Even the children pause their games to glance over curiously at the commotion.

Bruno seems to sense the occasion has reached a lull, lifting his head to give Arthur an expectant look. The dog rises and trots over to rest his chin in Arthur’s lap instead, bestowing an affectionate lick against his cheek as if to say ‘good job, Papa.’

Arthur chuckles, stroking the golden fur fondly.

“You really hit the jackpot this time around, didn’t you boy?” He murmurs just loud enough for Bruno’s keen ears to pick up. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves another little nugget joining the madhouse pretty soon … wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

***

“How about this one, Maman?” Jules calls out, holding up a slinky crimson gown that looks several sizes too small for you.

Charles shoots his eldest son a quelling look from where he lounges on the plush velour armchair, two-year-old Celine babbling happily on his lap. Jules immediately wilts, grinning sheepishly before returning the dress to the discard pile swiftly accumulating around the dressing room.

You let out a frustrated huff from behind the closed curtain, drawing Charles’ attention back to you. He sees your feet pace restlessly across the tiled floor as more rustling fabric sounds filter through.

“Y/N? Everything alright, mon cœur?” He calls out hesitantly. When you fail to respond, Charles frowns and shifts Celine higher on his knee.

“Perhaps we should try a different-”

The dressing room curtain abruptly whips open, cutting him off mid-sentence. You stand before the full-length mirror in a skintight silver sheath, tugging irritatedly at the fabric stretched taut across your midsection.

“I don’t understand!” You snap, sounding flustered to the point of tears. Your gaze finds Charles in the mirror, eyes pleading beseechingly. “None of these dresses are fitting properly at all. And I know I have the right sizes!”

Helene pipes up from the loveseat where she sits rifling through accessories. “Maybe you got a tummy bug, Maman? My pudge always comes and goes when I’m not feeling good.”

“Gee, thanks Lena,” you mutter dryly, fidgeting with another futile tug at the clinging metallic material.

Charles watches you intently, gaze traversing over your familiar silhouette with a considering frown. It’s certainly nothing to do with weight gain or bloat — if anything, you seem slightly more slender than usual, the ridges of your abdomen clearly defined by the unforgiving silver fabric. Any extra fullness seems concentrated lower, an almost imperceptible bump that Charles is intimately familiar with after four previous pregnancies.

His sharp inhalation draws your eyes back towards the mirror. He can see the question forming on your lips before you even have a chance to voice it. Charles simply holds up a hand, rising smoothly to his feet with Celine balanced on his hip.

The little girl babbles happily, making grabby hands towards the tower of cast-off dresses as Charles weaves through the sizable debris field. You turn to face him fully, fingers unconsciously picking at the shimmering hem in a rare show of self-consciousness.

“I … it doesn’t make any sense,” you mutter as Charles comes to a halt before you. “I checked all the sizing beforehand, like always. I know my body. I’ve been this size for ages, ever since Celine was born. So why won’t anything fit properly?”

He reaches out silently, hands encircling the soft give of your waist. You go rigid under his palms as Charles slowly drags them lower, fingertips skating over the soft swell of your lower abdomen. Your breath leaves you in a sharp exhale as your gazes lock meaningfully, his search clearly confirming those silent suspicions.

“How long?” His voice is low, instantly holding your attention.

You furrow your brow, mouth opening and closing uselessly. Then realization seems to dawn, your eyes going comically wide.

“Oh my god ...”

Charles nods slowly, his own mind whirring as it rapidly calculates. If his keen senses are correct — if what he’s feeling under his hands is truly what he suspects ...

“When was your last period, mon cœur?” He murmurs carefully, searching your face intently.

Your expression remains frozen in shock, features slack. Ever so slowly, almost imperceptibly, you begin shaking your head in bewilderment.

“Now that you mention it … I ...”

Charles watches the pieces click together as clear as day. The habitual cycle you’ve always tracked so meticulously, your uncanny ability to pinpoint the slightest shifts in your body’s rhythm — it all leads to the inevitable conclusion that he somehow arrived at before you. A conclusion rendered all the more definitive by the stupefied look stealing over your features.

“I don’t remember,” you finally whisper, eyes locked with his. “Oh god, Charles … no, it can’t be-”

“One more surprise,” Charles cuts in, chuckling disbelievingly under his breath. “How is it even possible we missed this? Another Lec-”

“Shhh!” You hastily press a hand over his lips, silencing the exclamation. Celine squirms petulantly against his chest, tangling her chubby fingers in his collar until Charles secures her more firmly in his hold.

Your free hand drifts distractedly between your bodies to rest against the telling protrusion, eyes becoming misty. Charles kisses your palm, feels the tremor racing through you.

“Maman? Papa?” Lucien’s little voice pipes up, high and quizzical. “Why you acting so weird?”

Neither of you seem to fully register the intrusion at first. You inhale a shuddering breath, casting Charles an utterly stricken look before reluctantly tearing your attention towards the children scattered around the boutique.

Helene has her head cocked skeptically, undoubtedly having picked up on the tension crackling through the room. Even Celine senses the shift in mood, falling uncharacteristically silent in the weighty pause. Only Jules seems to remain obliviously absorbed in his mobile game, earbuds firmly in place and shoulders hunched.

You give a tiny shake of your head, tightening your grip over Charles’ hand still splayed protectively across your abdomen. He takes the cue and proceeds to open his mouth — likely to formulate some vague reassurance for the children — only to find himself abruptly interrupted.

“You’re having another baby, aren’t you Maman?”

The words hang heavy in the air as every head whips around to locate the source. It’s Lucien — sweet, quiet little Lucien, staring up at the two of you with eyes far too astute for someone of such tender years.

Your hand slips from Charles’ mouth to muffle a gasp. His own jaw drops open in naked shock, gaze rapidly pinging between you and your preternaturally observant second son.

“Luce?” Helene’s eyes are like saucers as she regards her younger brother. “How did you ...”

But the boy merely shrugs, looking almost defensive as he plants his fists on his hips in an uncanny mirror of Charles’ habitual mannerisms when feeling confrontational.

“S’obvious,” he shrugs. “I remember when Celene was in Maman’s tummy. I know what a new baby belly looks like!”

Then Helene, lovely Helene, shakes off her own shock with an earsplitting shriek of unbridled joy.

“No way! Maman, you’re really — JULES! GET OFF YOUR DUMB PHONE!”

The curtain finally seems to drop from your frozen stupor. You startle hard, blinking rapidly as if reemerging from underwater. Your hand instinctively tightens over Charles’ where it cradles the telling curve, anchoring you both in the whiplash of revelation.

Meanwhile, Helene launches herself off the loveseat like a tiny cannon ball, howling out strings of excited gibberish at maximum volume. Jules’ head jerks up just in time to catch his sister’s barrage, flinching as she swats ineffectually at his earbud.

“Wha-” he sputters, batting away her hands in clear consternation before finally ripping out the headphone. “Hey! What’s gotten into you? And why’s everyone so freaked?”

Helene rounds on him, practically vibrating with glee. “Can’t you hear, loser? Maman’s having another baby!”

Jules does an actual doubletake, head whipping back towards you and Charles in shock. Lucien is nodding emphatically beside him, a serene little smile plastered across his face as his eyes flit between you.

“Told you so,” he murmurs sagely.

It’s the picture of pandemonium. The saleslady who had been assisting you suddenly appears, looking quite put out by the noisy disturbance echoing over her pristine shop floor. Charles can only imagine the picture they all make — you frozen in front of the dressing room mirror, his hand cradling your midriff as your children lose their collective minds around you.

When the woman opens her mouth, likely with the intent to scold them for the ruckus, Jules finally seems to find his voice.

“No way! Maman?” He whirls back to you, features awash with stunned wonder.

“Yes, oui!” Helene all but hollers, bouncing in place like an overstimulated jack russell. “Papa was feeling her tummy and everything!”

The shop girl’s gaze turns even more scandalized at the outburst, color staining her cheeks. Celine giggles, apparently finding the entire scenario terribly amusing. But you remain frozen, gaze drifting between the children and Charles with a silent plea clearly written across your face.

His own stupor finally breaks as he registers your wide-eyed helplessness. He has to smother the sudden, slightly hysterical urge to laugh at the torrential slew of emotions swirling through him.

Charles clears his throat loudly, plastering on his signature press smile as he turns towards the saleslady. “Perhaps we could have a brief moment to ourselves, mademoiselle?”

The woman sniffs dismissively, clearly fighting the urge to protest further. But the flicker of recognition in her eyes saves Charles from having to assert his identity. With a sharp tug at the hem of her blazer, she gives a curt nod and swans away toward the front of the boutique.

Once she’s disappeared from view, Charles strides back toward the curtained changing room, herding the children ahead of him and arranging them all amongst the plush armchairs in the small space. A muffled scuffle ensues as Helene scrambles to sit next to her father, elbowing aside a scowling Jules. Celine just babbles incessantly from her perch atop Charles’ knee.

You follow dazedly, sinking into the armchair opposite them all and emitting a great whoosh of breath. Your hand returns immediately to the subtle swell, fingers cradling the barely-there curve reverently.

Charles feels the unrestrained smile tugging at his lips. His family — complete and whole, yet growing by yet another little life soon to make their world even more vividly bright once again.

He gazes at the stunned expression still dominating your features and laughs, deep and full and utterly delighted. You seem to startle back into the present at the sound, meeting his awestruck eyes with a quickly growing smile of your own.

Soon enough, the storm of excited chatter resumes, with you taking the lead. Jules looks utterly shocked by the turn of events. Helene fires off a barrage of questions and squeals. Little Lucien sits with unshakable poise, absorbing it all with quiet pride.

And Charles can only laugh and wrap his arms around every beaming, noisy inch of you all — his beautiful family bound only to grow larger still over the coming months.

This is exactly where he belongs.

***

Jules can’t wipe the enormous grin from his face as he strolls into the familiar Ferrari garage alongside his race engineer. The potent scents of oil and petrol fill his nostrils, instantly transporting him back to the earliest days of running around this very same hallowed space as a wide-eyed child.

Only now, it’s his turn to climb into the iconic red car. The culmination of a lifelong dream pursued with almost maniacal singularity — one he had witnessed his own father live out with such tremendous passion year after year.

His gaze roams around the bustling team members, searching out the faces of his parents among the throng of mechanics and engineers. Jules finally spots the two of you huddled together towards the far side, his mother enveloped protectively in his father’s embrace as you both wave enthusiastically.

A wide smile splits Jules’ lips once more. He can’t resist the urge to press a quick kiss to his fiancée, Romee’s, cheek where she strolls alongside him, swathed in a scarlet maternity dress and positively glowing with eight months of pregnancy. She flushes prettily, one hand unconsciously drifting down to cradle the swell of her belly.

“Go get ’em, champ,” she murmurs warmly, squeezing his arm. “Baby Leclerc and I will be right here watching.”

Jules just nods, heart swelling fit to burst as he turns to face the gaggle of media crews setting up cameras nearby. His eyes linger on Romee for another loaded moment, committing the transcendent sight of her lovingly cradling their unborn child to memory.

He hardly has time to mentally steel himself before one of the Sky News correspondents is gesturing him over. Jules takes a fortifying breath and moves to join the woman, schooling his features into professionalism even as his stomach does delirious backflips.

“Jules Leclerc, you must be simply bursting with pride today,” the reporter begins without preamble as soon as her cameraman gives the signal. “Would’ve been hard to imagine this moment when following your father’s legendary footsteps around the paddock as a child, no?”

“You can say that again,” Jules chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “It definitely still hasn’t fully sunk in yet, I’ll admit. But it’s been my dream since before I could even walk, so you better believe I’m going to cherish every single second out on that track.”

He punctuates the statement with a decisive nod and flashes his signature megawatt smile — a move you always say must be hereditary. The reporter visibly softens under its full beam, casting a cursory look up and down before clearing her throat delicately.

“Well you certainly carry yourself with the same confidence as your father,” she lilts with the faintest of eyebrow waggles. “Speaking of family … I noticed your fiancée, Romee Verstappen, cheering you on from the sidelines as well. Must be another incredible source of pride to be starting your Formula 1 career with a new baby so imminently on the way?”

Jules feels the smile stretch even more impossibly wide at the mention of Romee and their child. His chest swells with unbridled joy and pride until he thinks it may crack open entirely.

“Absolutely, my girls are everything to me,” he affirms proudly, allowing his gaze to skate back towards Romee where she stands with his parents. “Having them here with me to experience such a monumental personal milestone … it’s really indescribably specia-”

The words abruptly die on his lips as Jules’ eyes snag on a sudden flurry of movement from your side of the gathered group. Your head is bent low, one hand clutched around your midriff as you make a beeline for the nearest trash can stationed ominously in the corner. His brows furrow in concern, body tensing reflexively even as his father is already darting after you with alarm clear on his features.

Jules doesn’t even realize when he starts moving, propelled by muscle memory to rush towards the commotion unfolding. All he can fixate on is the unmistakable sight of you hunched over the bin, retching violently into the receptacle as his father hovers anxiously behind you. Charles’ hand finds your hair, tenderly gathering the silky strands out of your face as his opposite palm glides questioningly down the length of your abdomen, coming to rest at your lower back.

The gesture is so painfully familiar, one Jules can vividly recall witnessing countless times in his childhood. All he can focus on is the way Charles’ fingers instinctively curve around the base of your stomach, palm gentle and reverent even now as you heave.

Something seems to click into place within Jules’ mind like tumblers in a lock. His breath leaves him in a painful wheeze, everything narrowing to the tunnel vision of you hunched so wretchedly, your distress the only palpable thing in his world.

“M-Maman?” He hears himself stammer out hoarsely.

You startle bodily at his voice, shoulders jolting rigidly. Jules can glimpse the tell-tale sheen of clammy perspiration beading across your brow and hairline as you continue to pant raggedly into the bin.

Just as soon as he arrives at your side, you’re drawing a tremulous breath and attempting to straighten, clearly aiming for nonchalance despite your haggard appearance. Charles’ palm doesn’t budge from where it rests so tellingly at the base of your belly, fingers still reverently curved.

“Jules, mon chou,” your voice wavers. You manage a wan smile even as color bleeds back into your ashen cheeks. “I’m alright, don’t worry-”

But he can’t help himself — his gaze remains riveted to Charles’ possessive palm still splayed across your abdomen. Suddenly, every innocuous little symptom Jules had decidedly overlooked the past few weeks comes slamming back into focus with disorienting clarity.

The perpetual fatigue you always hastened to dismiss over dinner visits. The periods of irritable moodiness that would overtake you without warning, followed swiftly by apologetic tears. And above all, the subtle thickening of your middle that each of his sisters gleefully attributed to too many of Pascale’s famous steak frites during your frequent family meals together.

Jules feels the world tilt dizzily around him, throat constricting with the realization as decades of old memories dredge up unbidden from the deepest recesses of his childhood.

How many times did he watch this exact scene from the outside looking in? His doting father peering down at his pregnant mother with such pride and unshakeable reverence in those early years of Jules’ life? All the subtle similarities, all the subconscious cues his brain must’ve been cataloging without his knowledge, suddenly dragged to the forefront of his mind.

“N-No ...” he sputters, voice scarcely audible even to his own ears over the pounding engulfing his skull. “She … you’re not …“

Charles’ eyes flick immediately to meet Jules’ shellshocked gaze, lips pressed into a grim line that’s nearly a grimace. Something indecipherable passes over his father’s features, though whether it’s disbelief or confirmation Jules can’t bring himself to discern.

Your attention remains mostly fixated on the bin as you try once more to control your breathing. But even from this side-profile view, Jules can make out the subtle disruption of your brow furrowing — the telltale crease of a wince flashing across your delicate mouth for just an instant before smoothing back into neutrality.

And it’s all he needs to see for the realization to cement itself.

Jules shakes his head in dazed incredulity, his equilibrium entirely shattered. All words seem to escape his grasp. He barely even registers the heavy clatter of something hitting the concrete mere inches from his feet.

When he finally wrenches his eyes away from you both, Jules makes out the fuzzy edges of several Sky News crew members hovering anxiously nearby, cameras and microphones trained on the unfolding scene with rapt attention.

One of the correspondents hovers at the outskirts of the scrum, dark eyes agape and face stricken with concern. Her lips move as if to call out to him, but Jules is already swaying dangerously, consciousness slipping rapidly through his fingers.

The muted whirlwind voices of his entire team shouting in alarm rings hollowly in his ears … his mother’s distressed cry an instant before his world pivots sideways and goes completely black.

“Mon bébé, no! Catch him, vite-”

***

Jules blinks slowly, the fluorescent garage lights swimming dizzily back into focus. His mouth feels stuffed full of cotton, pulse pounding an erratic rhythm against his temples. What on earth just happened?

“Jules? Can you hear me, darling?”

His mother’s concerned voice is the first thing to fully permeate the fog clouding his senses. He pries his eyelids open further to find your anxious face hovering inches from his own, deep creases etched around your eyes and mouth.

You lean back slightly as Jules struggles to sit upright, groaning at the persistent vertigo. His limbs feel leaden, but a steadying hand at his nape counters the dead weight bearing down on his neck.

“Easy there,” his father’s low tenor rumbles from behind. “Just take it slow.”

Jules allows Charles to guide him into a slumped sitting position against the wall, fighting against the whirling dizziness consuming his skull. A vaguely familiar face swims into his line of vision next — Romee, her beautiful features distorted with worry.

“Oh thank god,” she murmurs, palm finding his cheek and anchoring him further into the present. “You gave us all a heart attack, you moron!”

Jules blinks sluggishly, vaguely aware of the relief sweeping across Romee’s features as you and Charles crowd in as well. He swallows hard, mouth dry as a bone.

“What … happened?”

His voice comes out in a hoarse croak that doesn’t sound much like him at all. Even the minuscule effort of voicing those two words sends a prickly tremor ricocheting across his tender skull. A fresh wave of nausea assails him.

You crouch beside Romee, smoothing the damp hair back from Jules’ clammy brow without a second thought. But your hands are shaking faintly, he notices, and your cheeks seem unduly flushed.

Snatches of memory slowly begin filtering their way through the fog, sinking cold tendrils of realization into Jules’ gut. He squeezes his eyes shut, willing away the disorienting sight of the three of you clustered together for just a fraction of a second.

The split second of respite has everything coming rushing back in a torrent when he opens them again. You, hunched over the bin and retching pitifully. Charles fussing with evident concern, hands drifting across the unmistakable swell of your midsection with the deference of old habit.

All at once, the question slams back into Jules with the force of a physical blow, sending his head spinning anew. His eyes snap back open, mouth working in desperation as he tries to force out the words lodged in his throat.

“You ...” he rasps, gaze darting down towards your stomach before ripping back up to your faces. “She’s ...”

You and Charles exchange a loaded look, but Jules barely notices. He’s too busy following the subtle circuit of tension rippling through his parents’ expressions — a direct mirror of his own inner whiplash.

After all these years. With his father now forty-eight years old and you not far behind, and yet … here Jules sits, stunned speechless at the surreal possibility that-

“Y-You’re pregnant?” He finally chokes out in a strangled whisper. He knows he shouldn’t phrase it as a question, not really — the confirmation is basically written across every muted motion passing between you both.

And yet Jules’ brain still refuses to process the knowledge beyond a frantic sort of shock.

You let out a tiny sound at his words, almost involuntary — a helpless little exhale that seems to admit far more than any words could. Your eyes dance between Romee and Charles in a soundless plea.

Charles is the one to finally break the stifling silence, laying a tender palm on your back and meeting Jules’ owlish stare head-on.

“We, ah ...” He falters, clearing his throat gruffly as you drop your head in apparent fatigue. “Well, yes. Your mother is … with child again, it appears.”

The words seem to bypass Jules’ comprehension entirely, landing with all the force of a wispy feather brushing against his brain. He sucks in a sharp breath, cringing slightly at the sting of recycled, dry garage air searing his raw throat.

“But … how?” He sputters weakly, shaking his head as if to rattle his wits into some sort of coherent line. “I mean, when did this even … “

You make a choked sound in the back of your throat, quickly smothered against the sleeve of your jacket. Jules’ eyes flick reflexively to the subtle swell of your abdomen, so glaringly obvious now that the truth has been dragged into the light.

It’s strange, really — how he kept convincing himself it was simply the inevitable effects of middle-age slowing your metabolism over these past few months. Jules had attributed the gradual rounding of your figure to nothing but the natural passage of time.

He can’t even begin to estimate how far along you must be. Surely his keen eyes would’ve noticed the signs sooner otherwise? And yet … no one else seems to have picked up on the possibility at all until this very moment.

As always, Charles picks up on his inner turmoil without Jules needing to give it voice. His father reaches up to card gentle fingertips through Jules’ sweat-damp curls, expression perfectly placid.

“You know your mother and I have never exactly been … modest about our affections,” he murmurs with a wry twist of his lips. “So when a man and a woman love each other …”

Jules feels his cheeks heat furiously at the implication, mind grinding to a screeching halt at that level of transparency from his own father. You, too, look positively mortified — features drained of all color as you steadfastly avoid Romee’s avidly curious gaze.

“Oh god,” Jules chokes out, pitching forward to bury his face in his palms. His entire body thrums with unease, fresh waves of nausea clawing up his throat. “Please, I can’t — I don’t want to think about ...”

His father’s rich laughter cuts through the swell of discomfort rolling through Jules’ gut. He startles when Charles’ hand lands on his neck, solid and grounding.

“Breathe,” he soothes, a smile evident in his voice. “All this shock and outrage is completely unnecessary. Why shouldn’t your poor old man still experience the occasional joy of being a doting husband, hmm?”

“Oh my god, Papa!” Jules groans again, scandalized. But Charles merely chuckles harder, reaching down to haul Jules into a sitting position once more.

You remain hunched nearby, expression hopelessly torn between contrition and sheer amusement at the disastrous state of your firstborn. Even Romee is barely stifling her giggles, having clearly recovered from her earlier alarm to bask in the ridiculous diversion of his freakout.

“This is … I can’t even begin,” Jules wheezes, dropping his pounding head between his knees. “I’m going to have a sibling younger than my own baby! How is that even possible?”

Another ripple of chuckles sounds around him. Charles’ palm rubs comforting circles over his trembling shoulders — mock sympathetic, but still undeniably paternal in its anchoring warmth.

Then it’s Romee’s turn to smother a snort of indelicate laughter into her palm. “Honestly Jules, you’re acting just like a petulant little brat right now. I’d expect behavior like this from my little brothers, not a fully grown man about to become a father himself!”

That seems to finally shatter the tension engulfing the scene. You dissolve into a fit of giggles nearly as shameless as Romee’s, shoulders shaking with relief.

“Leave it to you to be the voice of reason,” the gratitude is clear in your tone. “I hope your child inherits your sensibility rather than-”

“Hey!” Jules protests weakly, raising his head just enough to cast you both an extremely feigned look of affront. “I’ll have you know I handle everything with the utmost sophistication ...”

Romee rolls her eyes exaggeratedly, drawing near enough to nudge his temple with her knee in a wordless reprimand. As she shifts, one hand trails down to cradle her own swollen abdomen — a gesture Jules swiftly mirrors without conscious thought, curving his palm around the slope of her belly.

His new sibling could very well be due soon after his own imminent parenthood. The realization nearly steals what little breath he has left. Jules’ vision blurs slightly, throat contracting as he blinks rapidly against the hot sting gathering in his eyes.

“Jules?” Romee murmurs, instantly concerned by his silence. “Schatje, whatever is the matter?”

“I … nothing, I just. ..” He huffs an incredulous breath, gaze darting reflexively back to the contrasting swells of your midsections. “It’s really happening, isn’t it?”

He’s helpless to do anything but drag you both into his arms, clutching tightly enough to convey the swell of emotion roaring through him.

You enfold him just as greedily, stroking his hair and murmuring soothing nothings. A second pair of arms snakes around his back, Romee asserting her own comforting presence with a gentle squeeze.

“I love you all so damn much,” Jules finally rasps when he can summon his voice once more. “More than you could ever know.”

A soft huff of delighted laughter sounds as you pull back just enough to look at him properly. Your eyes shimmer with unshed tears of your own, but it’s radiant joy that comes across your beautiful features most prominently.

“And we love you, darling,” you murmur, reaching up to swipe the lingering tracks from Jules’ cheekbones with tender pads of your thumbs.

“I really am so happy for you two,” he mumbles fervently into your hair, words nearly swallowed by the chaos of the surrounding garage. “Another little sibling to dote on … I can hardly believe how lucky I am.”

Perhaps it’s not so difficult to accept the greatest shock of all after witnessing the newest miracle taking shape within the growing roundness of your body.

He grins brilliantly, the last of his apprehension finally releasing in a giddy rush. “My baby brother or sister is going to be so spoiled, just you wait.”

[hesperisms]

Sylus and reader just started their relationship and she can’t keep up with sylus’s high sex drive

// Relentless Conqueror

"As for what's been keeping you up at night, well, I'm more than enough..."

// summary: you finally admitted to Sylus that you had feelings for him, but you had no idea that getting to see his softer side would also show you how much he deserves his title as a Relentless Conqueror...

// content warnings: 18+ (mdni), dominance, established history, pet names, oral sex, vaginal sex, creampie

// a/n: anon, anon, anon, what have you done to me with this ask! Sylus has been rattling around in my brain since this one came in, begging to be unleashed! hope you're pleased <3

likes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated!

Sylus' large hands wrapped around your body possessively as you stood at the bathroom counter, his left hand snaking upwards under your oversized shirt to cup your breast, rolling, kneading, squeezing tenderly while his right hand splayed out over your stomach, holding you firmly against him, the pads of his long fingers pressing into your soft skin. "I woke up and you weren't there, kitten...I didn't like it." Sylus purred in a husky, newly awake gravel tone that dripped down your neck as he nuzzled his lips against your ear.

You blushed and reached down to rub your hand over the back of his hand on your stomach, melting into his firm chest pressed against your back. Slipping out of bed about twenty minutes beforehand while Sylus softly snored on his stomach, face down in the pillows, white hair a fluffy tumble was the first peace you'd had to yourself in almost two days. You knew that Sylus was an incredibly driven man, you'd seen his file in Hunter HQ that referred to him as The Relentless Conqueror but you had no idea that would also apply to his sex life. In hindsight, coming to know Sylus and falling for him as you had, you were naïve to think it wouldn't.

Sylus was a man of quiet confidence; you knew anything he committed himself to, he committed himself fully and this newly blossoming relationship with you was something he was giving his all. His passion for you was insatiable, an almost otherworldly hunger had roared to life within him once you'd told him that you wanted to be his. Every deep passionate kiss felt like he wanted to suck the air from your lungs and breathe you in, every possessive shield of his broad chest against you felt like he wanted to meld yourself with him.

Sylus had his other half back.

Sylus was whole again.

The rush that came with knowing that you were his again, that missing piece of his existence slotted back into place had surged his libido and he couldn't get enough of you. He already had a higher than normal sex drive, but the rush of that sweet honeymoon phase that had him so very love-drunk on you had turned his dial into overdrive and your body was struggling to keep up with his appetites.

Sylus had spent a lot of time watching you, studying every little expression and your body language intimately in his time re-discovering you, so he picked up on it in the vanity mirror when you winced slightly as he squeezed your breast. He switched things up and stroked the underside gently instead, kissing your neck and murmuring softly to you as he side-eyed your shared reflection. "I'm sorry sweetie, I know you have a sensitive body," he begins. "Have I been too much for you these last couple of days?"

You blushed, cheeks flushing and you smiled, reaching up to cradle his head against your neck, stroking his hair and he closed his eyes contentedly at the touch. "I know you're making the most of our time together before I have to head back to Linkon tomorrow, but I'm already dreading the suspicious looks I'm going to get from my teammates if I have difficulty sitting down comfortably at the conference table on Monday." You admitted to him with a gentle sigh.

"It's a very large conference table..." Sylus murmurs with a serious tone. "Should I schedule a meeting with your boss so that I have a reason to come ravage you on top of it in front of all of them? You won't have to think up an excuse, that way?" He chuckles wickedly, his warm hot breath fanning over your ear as he teases the idea of outing your relationship publicly. You give his cheek a gentle tap in a mock slap and he huffs, turning you around to face him.

Those hawkish crimson eyes of his glitter with a mixture of mischief, adoration and unbridled lust as he stares down at you, brushing the backs of his knuckles over the side of your cheek tenderly. He slides his hands down under your ass and you instinctively wrap your arms up around his neck, pulling his large frame down into a hug and he melts easily under your touch pecking kisses on the crown of your head, sniffing your hair. "Your scent...I want it to belong to me." he growls as he squeezes your backside and you feel a shiver of anticipation run down your spine.

You bite your lip, tilting your chin up to look up at Sylus, matching that hungry gaze of his with curious eyes. "If I promise I'll be gentle, can I have you again, kitten? I can't smell myself on you strong enough yet, I haven't finished marking you as mine." Sylus whispers, fingertips dimpled into the flesh of your ass cheeks possessively. Your breath catches in your throat at his words and despite the worn-in ache between your thighs from a long weekend of his significant girth stretching you out, you feel your heat start to build, desire stirring in your hips.

Sylus notices your bright eyes darken and your breath adjust. He knows he could carry you off to the bedroom right now and you wouldn't stop him, but he needs to hear your consent; his ego needs you to voice your desire for him, to hear that sweet voice of yours give him authority to lose himself in you. You smile at him seductively and look up through your lashes at him, nodding.

"Take me."

A predatory wolfish grin hits his lips at hearing you voice his claim on you and he scoops you up into his arms, striding confidently back into the bedroom with you and laying you down on the silk sheets of his large bed. You slide the oversized shirt off over your head and toss it at him, aiming for his face. With a cocky grin he flicks the tip of his index finger and a tendril of his evol swirls angry black and red, knocking the shirt away from him.

Sylus slides his silk robe off his shoulders, letting it pool at his feet and he stalks towards you on the bed like a big cat striding down its next meal, eyes locked on yours as he climbs between your thighs, brushing the tip of his nose against yours as he holds his weight above you. "Tell me that I'm the only one you want, Sweetie..." he purrs at you with a seductive, needy tone, fingers brushing your hair away from your neck so he can lean down to sink his mouth on your delicate skin, licking and sucking at your rapidly racing pulse, teeth lightly grazing before his tongue laps the pain away. "Tell me that this beautiful body of yours is mine to worship."

You tilt your head back, closing your eyes and letting your lips part slightly, a soft moan escaping you. He doesn't stop his ministrations on your neck, tongue swirling tantalizing patterns across your throat, but you feel the vibration of an impatient moan he lets out in response to yours.

"Do I need to tell you Sylus?" You laugh with a breathy whisper. "Or is my entire body singing it to you every time you touch me enough?"

His lips burn a trail down your throat, over your collarbones and down onto your chest, your nipples already firm and aching to be touched. Sylus wraps his lips around the sensitive bud, tongue lavishing slow wet curls across it, lovingly kissing it. You gasp in pleasure and close your eyes and as you do, he tilts his face up to watch you while he suckles at you. After a couple of minutes his warm wet mouth swaps sides, making sure he's dedicated attention to both your breasts.

"I'm not quite convinced," he hums, vibrations through your nipple on his tongue making you whimper. "I definitely think I need to hear it if I'm going to stay in control of my urges."

Feeling bold, you reach down and snake your fingers through his thick hair, smiling sweetly and scratching his scalp with your nails. "Do all Crows talk this much, or just mine? I believe I was promised worshipping." You say cheekily, crying out in shock and pleasure as his teeth find your nipple and press down gently in response.

Pulling back from your breasts, he releases your nipple with a wet suck and grins up at you, his devilishly handsome features all angles in the soft glow of the bedroom lamps. He lifts himself up on his knees and makes a show of bowing to you, hand pressed to his heart like he's making a solemn vow. "Let me put my lips to better service of My Lady then" he smirks, dropping himself backwards off the edge of the bed to comfortably rest his head on your inner thigh.

His thumbs rub gently down your delicate folds, your juices quickly slicking them and making their movements sound slick and sinful. Sylus' hot breath tickles your wet heat and he murmurs quietly "so wet for me already Kitten and I've barely touched you...maybe your body is trying to tell me something."

"I think the signs might be there if you squint hard enough." You nod in agreement with him, biting your lip with a soft genuine laugh.

Your laughter stokes his fires of passion for you and it takes all his self restraint not to bury his face in your heat intensely. He had promised you he'd be gentle, that he'd take his time with you, ease the aches he had rut into your body over this past few days and while Sylus is always a man of his word, it took everything he had to keep that promise when you looked so perfect beneath him. He could smell the sweet tang of you and it called to him, made him feel like he was home.

Sylus' tongue explored your soaked heat teasingly, gently, featherlight flickers across your aching bud in a cursive language you didn't comprehend. Jolts of raw desire and need coursed through your walls and deep into your abdomen with his deliberate attentions. You moan his name and arch your back and he presses his large hand flat on your belly, encouraging your coiling orgasm to build more intensely. He's setting such a slow and intense pace that time feels like it has slowed down for you both, you feel like he's been lapping at your folds for what must be an hour when he finally introduces his fingers to explore your needy pussy.

Dripping wet under his tongue, your swollen walls offer his long fingers no resistance, drawing him in with needy clenches as his skilled tongue coaxes sighs and moans from your lips and his fingers slide in and out of you. He feels the subtle tremors, the way your walls begin to firm around his fingers and he knows you're so close to unravelling on his tongue, if he just pushes you a little further...

Sylus' deep rumbling moan against your clit makes your nerves explode in pleasure and you buck against his mouth, crying out his name in shuddering shaky breaths as your orgasm cascades in rhythmic clenches of intense pleasure through your body, leaving your thighs trembling with aftershocks and your heart rate pounding like a war drum in your chest.

He pulls away from you and looks up at you, smug satisfaction written across his face as your orgasm drips from his lips and down his chin, glistening. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and sucks on it, savoring the taste of you and offers you his slicked fingers to suck on. You take them greedily, tongue lewdly slurping up your own juices and he watches with an intense stare of love for you, cheeks flushed red, eyes glistening and pupils blown out, feeling so accomplished that he caused you to come undone this way.

"I'm so lucky I'm the only one that gets to see you like this, Sweetie."

It comes out huskily, his emotions getting caught in his throat for a moment, manifesting your pleasure so important to him.

He withdraws his fingers from your mouth and leans over to kiss you passionately, lining his aching erection up against your sopping folds. "I'll take it slow, okay?" he promises again, sliding his tip through your slit to coat himself with your juices before easing the head in gently. Your whole body shivers underneath him and you shift your hips, lifting your legs up and wrapping them around his ribcage to grant his girth more access.

Just as he promised, Sylus takes his time, inch by inch slowly slipping into you until you're so full of him that you feel the ache of your tired walls starting to settle and get used to his significant size. You've never been more full, he's so big and his tip presses insistently up against your cervix in a way that's almost painful if he thrusts too hard. He begins to roll his hips down into you, building a soft but intense rhythm, hitting all your most sensitive spots so very deep inside.

He grinds into you, holding his weight just off you so that he's not suffocating you and you moan deeply as you look down between you to see his length plunging in and out of you, his hips keeping a steady pace. His eyes are closed and his mouth hangs open ever so slightly as he chases your shared pleasure. You cup his cheek and brush the pad of your thumb across his lip and he opens his eyes to gaze down at you, shimmering ruby eyes overwhelmed by blown out pupils.

Sylus moans against your lips as he feels you tensing "if you're close just let go, I'm right here with you my dove" and it's enough to send you keening into your second orgasm, your walls rippling and clenching down, meeting the resistance of his hard flesh. His pace doesn't relent as he strokes you through your pleasure, feeling yourself gushing onto the sheets as the lewd sounds of him slapping into your wetness echo in the room.

As his eyes lose focus and his hips start to hitch, you wrap your legs tighter around him, trapping him deep into you and you slide your arms up around his neck, pulling him down so his head is buried in the curve of your jaw. Your ear is full of his hot ragged breaths and his moans and you lean in, purring back in his ear.

"Gooooood boy....you're everything I want Sylus".

His head snaps backwards with a loud, gutteral moan and his eyes widen in shock for at your unexpected praise as he starts to seize inside you, orgasm flooding your walls in scalding bursts as he tries in vain to keep thrusting. Panting heavily, Sylus lowers his weight down onto your hips a little and props himself on his forearms, staring into your eyes, searching you for any discomfort, kissing your lips gently when he doesn't find it.

"That was a dirty trick Y/N," he laughs, kissing you again. "It was a dirty trick and I loved every second of it."

[quimichi]

≡;- ꒰ °HOW THEY EAT YOU OUT ꒱ - MDNI

Pt. 1

TW: sexual content,

SUMMARY: how 6 hsr guys eat you out ♡

CHARACTERS: Argenti, Arlan, Aventurine, Blade, Boothill & Caelus x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 812

Argenti

“Yes, that's it my rose. I don’t think i will ever get tired of this sight.”

Despite how he many times he's seen you like this - Argentis cheeks will flush a beautiful red and his chest is rising and falling quickly. You are utterly beautiful. His fingers pushe more slick out of you, and he can’t help but lean in to lap it up, humming at the taste of you along his taste buds that the movement grants him.

“Such a delightful taste....hah- is this all it takes to make yoi quiver?” he can't help but close his eyes as he buries himself deeper between your folds. You're ’re so sensitive. His fingers keep their pace and when you throb around his slender digits he can’t help but moan into you, he feels it just like you. “Don't be scared my love, as your boyfriend it's my duty to make you cum.”

Arlan - aged up!

“oh-!” he's doing all this for the first time, he can't help but be just as surprised with his actions like you. You have to bite your lip, he's way to cute right now, and does it way to well.

Arlans nose knocks against your clit a second later, followed by him lewdly slurping at the bundle of nerves like he’s kissing it better from the soreness.

He felt like he is on cloud nine and it only makes him feel even better when he feels you begin to tense. You're so close, he can feel it, and hear it. It’s almost immediate the way he feels your thighs begin to wrestle against him as you desperately try to close your legs at the pure pleasure.

“Gonna make you cum, gonna make you cum real good”

Aventurine

You feel the way he smiles against your pussy, teasingly. He knew he'd make you beg for it in under 5 minutes. “heh- now that was easy, wasn't it.” he sends another kiss against your clit, breathing heavy against your folds as his fingers move to spread you open, making more space for him. God, sometikes he just wants to shove his faces as deep as he can into your wet and warm pussy and stay there.

His eyes are on you the entire time, watching you with lidded eyes as he licks from bottom to top again, smirking like a mad man.

“Damn, loon at you darlin', all puddy in my hands."

Blade

“What did i tell you? Hold fucking still.” Blade grits his teeth. He pulls away from your wet cunt to glare up at you, lowkey makes you scared. You’re so close, so damn close, the last thing you want is him pulling away. With the last bit of self control you got left, you try your best not to squirm around. You know better than to disobey him.

He’s messy and merciless when he eats your pussy. Hes covered, nose to chin with your juices. He closes his lips around your clit, giving it a harsh suck. He’s exploring your pussy with his tongue before it’s swirling around your clit with the purpose of prolonging your blissful state, watching you with heavy eyes as he feels himself get turned on by the expression on your face. You can't help but whine, you want to cum.

"Patience...patience..."

Boothill

His arms wrapped around your thighs leaving you helplessly trapped in this sick game of him over stimming you till you can’t anymore. Tears couldn’t help but fall from your eyes as you begged him that it was just “t-too much”. But you weren’t convincing enough. After all your hips were bucking into his face when you were just so close to cumming again, leaving you whiny and breathless after each time.

Can't be to much when you're this needy — “f-fuck.. i c-can’tplease” your voice shaking, desperately you run your hands through his soft hair to pull him even closer despite your words.

“what a fucking liar you are...”

Caelus

The way his fingers come down on your clit, slapping the bud quickly, he stares at you from between your thighs. He’s watching the way your pussy swallows up two of his fingers.

“You truly are so pretty.” Caelus whispers almost love drunk. You feel too hot, you're sweating, like he’s worshipping you from where he’s resting on his knees at the end of the bed, leaving your hips to hang from the mattress so he can have you. He holds your thighs in his hands, gripping them hard so he can contain himself. He feels like hes getting mad, crazy at your taste. His tounge fucks itself in and out of your hole, almost like it has a mind on its own. His eyes roll back into his skull, is he liking this more than you?

"More, want more of you, pretty girl."

TAGLIST: @hehothrowawayfae @lucienbarkbark @theblades

Wanna be added to my taglist? Scream HERE! and next time I'll add you! Moots only ♡

[moonstruckme]

Love love love the roommate james series! Thank you <3

Me too lovely! Thank YOU <3

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.4k words

Lightning strikes outside the window just before your laughter reaches James. He perks up, an electric current skittering down into his fingertips. He’s glad no one’s around to witness the way he swivels around on the couch to look out the window, searching for the source of the sound. 

Your key is in the lock a moment later. “Are you sure you don’t want me to run up and grab my umbrella?” you ask someone outside as you walk in. 

“No, thanks,” a male voice, sounding just as jovial as you do, responds. Without thinking, James stands up. “What’d be the point? I’m already soaked through.” 

“Seems like it’s really coming down out there,” James says, stepping into the doorway. You look over as though you hadn’t realized he was there. You’re sopping wet, hair dripping onto the floor and work clothes clinging to your body in ways James takes care not to notice. The man outside is similarly drenched, looking cold but remarkably happy as he takes shelter under the small awning outside your door. “You alright, mate?” 

“Good,” he replies, looking at James like he’s not sure if this is someone he’s supposed to be able to place. “And yourself?” 

“This is James,” you say, “my roommate. And this is Art, we work together.” 

“Pleased to meet you.” Art sticks out a hand, shaking James’ firmly before retracting back out onto your doorstep. “I’d better get home,” he says to you. “See you Friday?” 

“Yeah.” You nod briskly, giving him a small smile as he turns around and goes. James shuts the door after him with a definitive thud. 

“Christ, love, aren’t you cold?” He fights the urge to set his hands on your arms and rub warmth into them. His friends are so touchy, it’s a bit difficult to adjust for someone who isn’t. 

“Yeah,” you admit with another little smile (James likes this one better, though he’s unsure why). Now that you’re standing still, you’re beginning to shiver. “Could you maybe grab me a towel from upstairs? Sorry to ask, I just don’t want to track water in.” 

James is already moving. “Don’t be sorry,” he chides as he climbs the stairs. 

As he looks for where you keep your towels, he can’t stop thinking about the thrilled way you and Art had looked at each other. Your ringing laughter outside the door. He’s happy you feel comfortable enough at your job to laugh and have fun with your coworkers, but he’s a bit hurt that you don’t seem to feel the same sort of ease around him. James has managed to coax a few smiles from you since he moved in, and a decent amount of laughter, too, but more often than not it comes with some resistance. He’ll catch you trying to conceal a grin, cutting your laugh off before it’s really begun. Then you’ll look at him like you’re embarrassed for being caught in a joyous moment. As if they’re something to be bashful about, and not something that lightens James’ heart until it threatens to float off and take him with it. 

He ends up grabbing both the towel and that giant sweatshirt you like, tossing the latter in the dryer on his way back to you. 

“Thanks.” You reach for the towel, but James wraps it around your shoulders himself. 

“Don’t mention it.” He breaks, giving the tops of your arms a couple of good rubs before stepping back and letting you take over. “Do you want something warm to drink?” 

Your eyes light up, but then you purse your lips. “I’m fine, thanks.” 

James gives you a look. 

You must really be in a good mood, because you crack easily. “Fine, a hot cocoa would be night-making,” you admit, grinning at him again. He wouldn’t be surprised if his chest was actually, visibly glowing. “Thanks, James.” 

“So,” he asks, hating himself just a little bit, “why did Art walk you back if neither of you had an umbrella?” He flicks on the kettle. 

“He lives nearby,” you reply. “We actually walk home together fairly often, whenever we’re both working at night.” 

James feels a stab of guilt. Of course, it makes perfect sense that you’d need someone to walk with you when you’re leaving work after dark. He feels stupid and inconsiderate for not thinking of it. 

“That’s nice of him,” he concedes. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of walking you home before. I could always come and get you.” 

A pause. “Thanks, but you really don’t have to. And please don’t be sorry, it’s not your issue to think about.” 

It feels like his issue. He wants to think about it. “Still. I wouldn’t mind.” 

“Yeah, but for Art it’s on his way home. You’d have to go both ways.” 

James doesn’t care. For reasons he doesn’t understand and refuses to reflect upon, he wants to be the one who makes sure you get home safely. That’s got to be a typical roommate responsibility, right? 

“You forget, I have a car,” he says, pouring the hot water into two mugs. He stirs in the cocoa mix. “I could drive both you and Art, if you’d like. Could have saved you a lot of trouble on a night like tonight.” 

“I actually really love the rain.” Your voice sounds clearer, and James turns around to find that evidently you’ve dubbed yourself dry enough to walk around. You’ve squeezed most of the moisture out of your hair, but your lashes are still clumped damply. Your face shines. “We ran because we were worried about our phones, but it was fun.” 

“Well, glad your impending hypothermia was worth it.” He starts to push your mug towards you, then pauses. “Oh, wait just a second.” 

He quickly goes back to the dryer, getting out your warmed sweatshirt and bringing it to you. Your face when you see it makes James wish he had a camera, your eyebrows hooking upward and lips actually parting like he’s brought you a kitten rather than a sweatshirt. You’re truly in rare form tonight. 

“Oh my god, thank you.” You start to position the hole over your head, then hesitate. “Actually, would you—” Your bottom lip goes briefly between your teeth, a flash of that shy girl he’s been seeing less and less of lately. You wrap your hands in the fabric of your sweatshirt. “I should probably take my wet clothes off. Would you mind turning around for a minute?” 

“Oh—yeah, of course.” James does. He covers his eyes for good measure, smiling to himself when he hears your amused little huff from behind him. Then there’s the wet sound of some item of clothing hitting the floor, and his smile fades. He can hear your skin shushing against fabric, your quiet breaths, the tiny sound you make when your clothes stick obstinately to your skin just for a moment before you peel them off. James feels somewhat warmer than he did a minute ago. 

“Okay, you’re good.” 

He turns around, and you’ve already got your hot cocoa in hand. Your sweatshirt hits at mid-thigh, sleeves covering the better parts of your hands that aren’t wrapped covetously around your mug. It takes a great deal of willpower not to look at the clothes piled on the floor and see if your underwear are among them. 

“This is really good,” you say, somewhat awkwardly. You’re looking at James bemusedly, used to him being the one who talks. 

He jumps back into his role. “I don’t know why you sound surprised. It always is, when I make it.” 

James leads the both of you into the living room, plopping down on the couch. You, of course, have the option of going upstairs to your room, but he knows you’ll follow. You sit down carefully, tucking your knees under the hem of your sweatshirt and resting your mug atop them. 

“So,” he says, reaching forward and unsticking a piece of hair from your eyebrow. You fluster but let him, and he smooths it behind your ear, “are you the type of person who likes to stay in and watch films when it’s storming, or do you only enjoy running about in them?” 

You hum into your hot cocoa. “I like a film.” 

“Perfect, then it’s your pick this time.” You start to protest, but James holds firm. “No, you’ve bullied me into picking the last three. It’s time to start pulling your weight around here.” 

It takes you a bit longer to relent, but finally he gets you to admit to a preferred film. As the intro credits are playing, thunder cracks outside, and an excited little shiver has you bringing up your shoulders. A smile, seemingly unconscious, ghosts over your lips. James grins in response. Cute. 

[redcherrykook]

ִֶָ── ࣪ ִֶָ🦇་༘࿐ Kinktober D19- dacryphilia (crying kink)

────☠︎︎────

content: oc is a crybaby, missionary (legs up, bend back), he licks her tears, gets off on it, multiple orgasms, daddy kink!!, size kink, "babygirl, sweets", creampie, lil clit play

note from cherry: live laugh love daddy jungkook. Sorry y'all, i'm just down bad

────☠︎︎────

Although sneaky, your attempts of driving Jungkook crazy never go unnoticed. Older, taller, much bigger than you and you have every intention to make the upmost use of it. Your little hands on his big, broad back always send shivers down his spine,

the way you keep your fingers decorated with long pink gel nails just adds to that cute, pure nature of yours,

not to be confused with innocent, he´s seen through all your acts, such as wearing those adorable frilly dresses in public only to whisper to him that you´re wearing his favorite cream underwear beneath them

All for him to fall into your sweet little arms, to get him all riled up and do whatever those big, doll like eyes blink at him for,

those whiny cries flowing effortlessly from your exaggerated pout so he can kiss it better,

All those loud, uncontrollable whimpers when he kisses and laps at your cunt until you cry,

nothing makes him more aroused than those literal tears

"babygirl, you´re just so tiny aren´t you?" reaching down, his large, warm hand presses right on your lower belly, right where it bulges every time he thrusts his cock into you,

you watch his bicep flex, his big, round shoulders hovering just right over you sends a dart of pleasure through your figure, helplessly getting fucked into the bed and all you needed to do is let go- let him take care of all those needy wishes

with the applied pressure, your head presses deeper into the cotton pillow below you,

"you´re just- mhh.. so big"

"oh yeah? but you´re taking me so well" he chuckles deeply, uneven breaths threatening to spill out louder and louder with each added thrust, he knew that was a lie- even after 7 months of dating, he´s still stretching you out deliciously, afraid to split you open when sinking his fat tip back into you,

"daddy please!" lips already swollen from chewing on them so much, they part further with the plead for him, overwhelmed by how deep he keeps hitting- hips angled just enough for him to reach that very last spot within you, his brown eyes bounce between your bulged belly and those wide eyes- waiting, impatiently begging you to cry for him like you always do,

"what do you need sweets? want daddy to play with your little clit?" you nod frantically, digging your nails into the muscles on his back, jungkook groans into you neck, his thumb sliding down from your belly to your femininity, teasingly resting just above where you need him

"please daddy, please i wanna cum" whether out of pleasure or frustration, he sees those doll eyes becoming glossy, tears pooling just slightly in the corners of them,

he starts rubbing eager circles on your clit, determined to see those tears spill down your flushed pink face,

"yes! so good mhh!" you moan out again, his hips ram into your sweet spot repeatedly, pushing you just right to the edge,

"pussy so wet babygirl, fuck, come on sweets, come for me- come for daddy" he keeps encouraging you, keeps his gaze locked to your pretty, fucked out face until finally, finally you cum,

but he doesn´t stop,

"one more sweets, give daddy one more" his hands grabs at your small thighs, pushing them to your chest by wrapping around them almost entirely, you gasp- whimpering loudly for any breath of air you can take, the high hasn´t passed yet but still, the second one is already in reach,

"s´too much, too much" tears flow down your pink cheeks, spilling gradually down to your chin, pooling there with ease,

"yeah, cry for me, keep crying baby, feels so good doesn´t it?"

he hums, cursing under his own moans while trying to hold out for you, his cock throbs for release with each added tear but he needed to see you come again, to fully go undone below his touches,

sobbing, your eyes stay open, tears streaming down continiously,

"answer me babygirl, feels good getting your tiny cunt fucked by daddy?"

his entire body tenses when you start speaking, broken sobs echoing between words, "yes- nghm! f-feels so good daddy! mhh"

unable to hold back any longer, his torso pushes forward, face inches away from yours while he starts chasing his own orgasm, closely monitoring how you keep whining, sobbing and clenching around him,

your delicate frame practically disappears under his, soft skin coming in contact with his own, warm chest, his face comes closer, lips meeting your forehead, "good girl, the best girl" he says, noticing how you´ve stopped looking, stopped keeping your eyes on him- your head had fully gotten lost in the feeling of him inside of you,

Jungkook sticks his tongue out, running it flat down your cheeks, one, then the other- tasting the salty liquid that proves your arousal for him- and you keep crying at that, snapped back to the situation when he laps up every drop of your tears you offer him,

"gonna cum sweets, my lil´ crier" he whispers, trying to comfort that focused, frustrated expression you have put on, brows furrowed and lips tucked between your teeth,

"me too daddy, g´nna come" stuttered, you feel him pulsate inside of you, spilling his warm load into your slippery walls, just then, you can come to your high as well, releasing everything that´s left onto him

After a couple minutes of breathless cuddles, his hand comes up to stroke your tears stained, wet cheeks,

"my little crybaby, did so well for daddy " he says, giving you a small, tired smile

you soothe his messy hair, giggling with the little energy you have left,

"you´re so sweet" his smile widens at that, engulfing you into his sweaty chest, arms hugging you tight, anything to make his crybaby feel loved

[imwetforyourmom]

can u do a matt x reader fic where the reader is going to the triplets house and meeting them for the first time alongside tara, jake & johhnie, Sam and Colby and Larry. Like the whole group has already met them but it’s the reader’s first time and during the whole hangout she can’t help but feel attracted to Matt and gets all blushy and kind of shy whenever he talks to her and he notices it and like takes it to his advantage kinda, and subtly flirts and teases her and likes seeing her all flustered. shitty explanation but I hope u get the memo😭🙏🏼 thank you baby🤍

why so shy?

warnings: hella swearing, teasing/flirting, dirty jokes

a/n: yall I love your requests, you’re all so smart fr

a/n 2: guys I had two different endings to this and was torn between them

if you dont like how its written do not hesitate to ask me to re-write it!!

not proofread

~

“atta girl”

“oh my god, hi!!” tara squeals as she wraps her arms around y/n.

tara’s been waiting to meet y/n, she and y/n had been messaging on instagram and eventually exchanged numbers, where their friendship grew even more, despite the fact they hadn’t even met met.

so, this is where they found themselves, hugging in the triplets house where they planned to meet, they invited everyone and orginally planned to meet at a resturuant, but matt refused and so nick decided it’d be better at the triplets house.

“hi!” a small grin fought its way onto y/ns face. she wrapped her arms around the small figure hugging her.

tara pulled away and backed up, gesturing her arms out to the several boys sitting on the couch, she introduced each and every one of them to y/n, a huge grin on taras face.

after tara finished introducing everyone and etc, it went to a quick silence, but matt broke it with “what’d you guys wanna do?”

his eyes were on y/ns, mostly asking her as she was the guest.

y/n felt her cheeks burning up, her hands folded together and she quickly looked away from his eyes. her grin turning into a nervous smile and voice slightly shaky. “I- uh, I dont mind what we do. is- is anyone um, I dont know.” she mumbled, she couldnt think of anything and she decided it’d be best if she didnt embarass herself any further.

she awkwardly took a seat on the couch, the only avaible spot being close to matt, literally sitting beside him with some space, thankfully.

she slowly sunk into the couch, letting everyone else begin conversation around her, she could hear voices trying to decide what they should do.

she kept her eyes on her hands in her lap, trying to think of anything other than how nervous matt just made her.

she looked up, her eyes immediately going to matts figure, her eyes trailing up and down. scanning the boys figure, looking at his side profile, the way his shirt hugged his skin, the prominent veins in his arms and hands and his tattoos. she’d be lying if she said she didnt get nervous just by the sight of him. hes gorgeous.

the rings on his fingers and the veins in his hands kept her eyes captive—who is she kidding? his entire body was keeping her captive, under the hold of attraction.

matt glanced over at her, letting his eyes linger a moment longer over her. seeing that she was staring at him, more specfically his body.

just to tease her, he curled his hand into a fist and flexed his arm slightly, making his veins and muscles more apparent. he watched her eyes widen, cheeks turn a bright pink and her throat audibly swallow.

a smirk grew on his face, he shifted his body more towards her. he stood infront of her, orginally with larray but larray had seen y/n staring at him, chuckled and walked to sam and colby, leaving matt with y/n.

he walked closer to y/n, leaning down slightly to her level he looked down at her, “what’re you looking at, pretty girl?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper so no one heard him.

y/ns eyes stared up into his eyes, her stomach fluttering and her cheeks burning an even darker red.

she swallowed, attempting to recover her calm demeanor and answering with her best try at a mono-tone voice “n- nothing.”

matt hummed, a pleased smirk formed on his face. he nodded once at her, then walked away to his triplet brothers, trying to shove down how nervous she looked and how big his ego felt now.

chris had been whining for ages now about how hungry and thirsty he was, nothing but complaints about how ‘im dying of thirst’ and ‘im starvinggg’ leaving his mouth, as if the boy couldnt walk to his own kitchen and get food and a drink himself. but the poor boy claimed his stomach ached too much to get himself food, in other words, he was too lazy.

“im so thirsty.” chris mumbled, crossing his arms and staring at the floor like a kid pouting. his throat dry.

jake looked over at him, stopping abruptly in his conversation with nick about loud cars and their shared hatred.

“how thirsty?” jake said, a small giggle being heard at the end of his sentence.

“sooo thir-“ nick cut off chris, though he’d rather watch it all play out, he did not want to hear his brother finish his sentence. “shut up chris! he’s setting you up! you fucking doofus.” nick rolled his eyes.

“dont know how you didnt see it comin’” matt laughed at his brothers cluelessness.

“what the fuck ever” chris grumbled, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms on his chest, a clear sign of him “not having this” or annoyance.

with a new idea, he turned to y/n with puppy dog eyes.

“can you get me a drink please?” he asked, pouting his pretty pink lips in a convincing manner. looking up at her with glossed over eyes and licking his lips to try and convince her even more.

matt scoffed, jealousy bubbling in his stomach he walked over to the pair and slung an arm around y/ns shoulder. sending a glare towards chris, his mouth shut but his eyes speaking loudly.

“shes not gonna get you a drink, go and get your own shit.” matt rolled his eyes, tightening his grip around y/n ever so slightly. for his own benefit, matt used his hand to shoo his brother off. watching as chris stomped his foot while walking to the kitchen, grumbling things under his breath, his insults and curses clearly directed towards matt.

“finally, someone needed to shut that kid up” larray teased, his eyes boring into the back of chris’ head, “shut up larray, why don’t you go make me food?” chris shot back, walking back to larray to continue their play fight.

matt and yn tuned out their bickering, focusing on the still close proximity between them. y/ns body tensed at matts arm around her shoulder, “gotta show my girl some respect, yeah?” matt whispered, his face facing forward but his mouth close to y/ns ear. his words were targeted, he knew what he was doing. feeling y/ns body stiffen under his touch and her breathing shallow with his words was only egging him on.

y/n gulped, nodding her head. trying to push past the butterflies in her stomach. blood rushing to her cheeks while she replayed his words in her head like a vintage cd player.

“yes- yeah.” she mumbled, her body still tense and stiff.

matt hummed in content, removing his arm off her and walking over to larray, where he stood and watched y/n.

y/n took in a breath, trying to calm herself before walking over to chris, pushing herself onto the counter where chris was getting his food.

“how- hows your food comin along?” she asked, swallowing her nerves.

“eh, it woulda been better if you made it.” he scoffed, looking over his shoulder to flip off matt, whom chuckled in response and turned to larray to engage conversation with him, in which, larray immediately making fun of matt.

“y/nnn” tara groaned, grabbing y/ns arm and dragging her with her.

“I wanna show you something” tara said excitedly, a big, toothy grin on her face while she spoke. she continued to bring y/n with her, across the kitchen and into matts room.

“okay, but why are we going into matts room?” y/n asked, looking at tara for an explanation, but nonetheless she stood in his room, standing awkwardly and examining his room.

“its was the first place I thought of.” tara shrugged, “oh shit! I forgot to grab the thing, ill be right back. dont move, k?” tara said, her smile dropping. leaving the room quickly with a sly smirk on her face, a knowing smirk.

y/n nodded hesitantly, unsure if she was entirely believing tara.

she swung her arms around herself boredly, looking around but staying in place and making a soft clicking noise with her mouth whilst waiting.

it wasnt until a few moments later she heard a ‘click’ noise from the door, not her mouth, the door.

her eyes moved to the door, expecting to see tara with whatever she went to grab, only to see matt walk in with his eyes glued to his phone.

never once losing eye contact with his phone he shut the door, and walked closer to his bed, finally looking up from his phone he saw y/n with an awkward smile on her face.

“hi.” she mumbled, taking a step back. her voice was breathy and shaky, signaling she was already nervous even with only being in the same room as matt for 30 seconds.

“hi, pretty girl. what’re you doing in here?” he asked, still not letting the pet name go, already feeling the satisfaction of her reaction using in his veins.

“I- um-“ she attempted to speak, though her own voice betrayed her. if she sounded pathetic earlier, she sounded even more pathetic now.

“why so shy? cmon baby, use your words. I know you can.” he drawled, taking a step closer to her, tossing his phone onto the bed and giving her his full attention.

“tara- she, she took me in here and left.” y/n calmed her composure, taking another step back, feeling her back press against the wall she let out a defeated sigh. she was screwed now. pressed against a wall infront of her newfound crush? god was she so fucking screwed.

“atta girl.” matt praised, taking another step towards her. he placed his hands on either side of her hips, his head tilted downwards a little to ensure his dominance over the situtation.

“I knew you could do it” he leaned his head into her neck, pressing soft kisses on the warm and smooth skin, sending shivers down y/ns spine.

y/ns lips parted, a small whimper escaping her lips, she tilted her head back, giving matt better access to her neck.

matt trailed his gentle kisses from the side of her neck, to her ear. he pressed a quick kiss to the shell of her ear before whispering in her ear

“you’re my pretty girl, arent you?”

“only I can make you this nervous, hm?”

“I see the way you look at me”

once he finished, he suckled on a spot underneath her ear, her sweet spot, earning a small moan from her.

he moved his lips to hers, pressing a slow and deep kiss onto her lips, y/n immediately kissing back with the same energy. melting into the kiss almost instantly.

theres no way tara didnt plan this. y/n saw the smirk playing on tara’s lips when she left the room, maybe she should’ve thought about it more.

1694 words

@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @genshin-addict @mels22lunchbox @ssilentzom @haunted-headset @dollyspsychoxo @sturnib-tch @b2cute @livvy4realll @graysturns @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi @mattsmad @sturn-bugz @maryx2xx

[starandcloud]

Pretty Pumpkin

Solivan Brugmansia x reader

TW: Breaking and Entering, Somnophilia, (slightly) manipulative reader,

Word Count: 3,377

Average reading time: 12 minutes 17 seconds

Mainlist

TKaTB mainlist

You were a smart student, you knew your stuff. Which is how you got here, a scholarship. You were perfect in just about every way, you were smart, graceful, top of the class, and did volunteer work after classes. You worked at the swimming pool during the summer and the plant nursery whenever you could. You were the dream. And the worst part?

You knew it.

You knew the looks you got, but you played it like you didn't. You knew your window lock wouldn't suddenly break, you knew someone had broken in. You noticed when things were moved, but you played along. Along into the sweet little fantasy whoever was trying to spin you into. You installed hidden cameras and watched them in the morning every time you actually slept at your own apartment, you watched as someone entered your room and just... admired you? You were honestly expecting worse, you were expecting a lot worse if you were completely honest. But you didn't know who it was, so you shifted the cameras and that's when you figured it out.

You locked yourself in your closet, the only place with no windows other than the kitchen, and watched the footage. You watched him enter, you listened to him speak and call you a sweet little thing and play with your hair. You could see his gentle smile and you could just feel the love drunk energy from him. You squinted your eyes then you saw it, you saw those green streaks and you smirked.

"Clever boy, what a clever little thing."

You praised Sol as he showed you his math test. Another one. Your hand nestled in his hair and you could feel him tense up under you as that blush stretched over his cheeks. You watched him look away and cover his face with his hand and you faked a pout and showed him your eighty-five percent.

"I did horrible Sol," you whined out and forced your bottom lip to quiver, "I really studied for this one..."

You had a mock sad tone in your voice as you looked down, your hair shifting as you did. You could see him move to comfort you and his hands gently rested on your shoulders, "H-Hey," you listened to him stammer before he calmly explained that you did your best. That's what matters. You leaned into him and gripped the back of his shirt, mock tears in your eyes as your shoulder's shook. Mimicking a cry as you buried your face in his chest, "I-I really tried... I-I don't know what's going on," you forced out with a sad tone, your voice cracking slightly as you did. You felt his arms dip around you and wrap around your waist as he held you close, "m-my grades are just dropping now," your words came out with a whimper as you pushed yourself closer to him, keeping up the act of upset princess, you looked up at him. Tears in your waterline as your bottom lip quivered, "am... am I stupid now Sol," you asked. Watching as he looked down at you with such a tender expression you couldn't help but almost surrender this game you were playing.

"No... no of course not," he whispered as one of his hands came up to your head and delicately pushed it against his chest, "it's just a rough patch. It'll be okay, it's all those holidays recently, that's all."

He promised as he rocked the both of you, you could see your friend close by. You locked eyes with her and gave a little smirk as you rolled your eyes and made a false cry before mouthing 'little games are back' before burying your face in Sol's chest. You felt him hold you tighter and you gently tightened your grip on him, you could feel his heart beat against his ribs and it made you grin. Eventually you pried yourself from him, hiding your face with your hair as you gathered your belongings and laced your fingers with Sol's as the two of you walked towards the library. You needed books for a class, which also gave you another opportunity to act like you needed Sol. Huffing, you reached for another book. It was with in your reach, but you purposely acted like you couldn't reach.

"Sol," you whined out and batted your eyelashes at him, "can you grab that for me?"

You asked with a little jump, making sure to coordinate your movements in such away that the book you wanted was just out of reach. Pouting you stomped your foot slightly and huffed before you felt Sol right behind you, you smirked and watched as his arm went above you and grabbed the book. You whisked around and gave him a hug, "oh you're the best," you exclaimed. Your voice happy and excited, as if he had just done the impossible for you. You felt his hand rest on your shoulder and you looked up at him, you saw him looking away and knew exactly what you were doing to him. Grabbing the book from his hand, you made sure that your fingertips brushed against his arm as you reached up and you leaned your body against him before you finally grabbed the book.

"You're the best Sol, you really are, you're like- the best person ever, and you're super duper smart," you said your voice like honey as you tucked the book into your back and picked it up, "oh I know! Could you tutor me?"

You asked as you tugged your bag over your shoulder and looked over at him, watching his eyes become puzzled and his body tensed as he tried to comprehend what you had just said to him. You watched the gears turn until he figured it out, you watched his face turn a beautiful shade of red and him look away. You knew what the answer would be, 'of course, what subjects?' you knew his sweet little facade all to well. After all, you were playing it too.

The last bell sounded like a starting shot at races, you packed your bag and sent a quick text to Sol; asking if he wanted to hang out. You were meant with an immediate response and you smiled softly before waiting at the school gate. When he came into view you acted all sorts of excited to see him, you bounced on your toes and laced your fingers with his as you lead him towards your apartment. You smiled as you walked around the back with him, telling him you just wanted to check on the little kitty you found the other day, and forced a frown when you didn't see it. Though there was actually a kitten back there the other day, you had already found it's parents, and it was just a ploy. You noticed where the grass seemed to be flatter and ran your fingers over it, helping it stand up right.

"Sol, look at this, a deer must've laid down here last night."

You spoke with a giggle as you pointed out the imprint, you watched as he tensed up and hid your smirk as you watched him try to usher you inside. Saying something about how you must be cold, you couldn't help but laugh as he gently pulled you into your own apartment. You excused yourself and changed into a hoodie and leggings, honestly it wasn't planned. It was just what you were comfortable in, you threw your hair into a bun and sat next to Sol. You pulled out your math books and smiled gently as he started to talk about how to do the math problems you were "having issues with". You nodded and listened intently, you let your hand "accidentally" rest on his thigh as you leaned forward and laid your head against his shoulder. At the end of the study session, you walked him to the door and gave him some food. It was supposed to be your lunch for tomorrow, but here you were, you'd honestly just buy lunch tomorrow at school. It wasn't a big deal, you promised, as you urged him to take the food. Which he did eventually take, you smiled and gave him a tight hug before watching him walk away. You shut your door and then settled on the couch, you turned on a shitty rom-com and watched it until you were bored. You honestly hated those things, but you laughed at every corny joke and made an effort to make yourself look like you were enjoying it.

Later that night, an hour or so later than when you actually went to bed, you were listening to music. Bopping your head around as you cut your eyes towards the window, at the general location you knew he would be. The imprint, which you took a guesstimate at it's location, wasn't far from your window so you just smiled sweetly and then went back to your music. You weren't aware of how quickly he ducked behind the tree and how he clutched his chest or how his blush was bright enough you could've used it as a flashlight. Honestly he wasn't even sure if you even knew he was there, you did, or if you knew if it wasn't a deer but him, you knew, but he let out a shaky breath when your bedroom lights went off. He waited a few minutes before hiking your window open and climbing in, he stood in front of you and pulled his mask down. You heard him approach and felt him sit beside you, so you decided to play a little game with him. You furrowed your brows and muttered out his name in your "sleep", you could hear the gasp that came from him and how his fingers gently brushed over your cheek to feel you against his skin.

"I'm here Pumpkin," he mumbled back, "right here."

He sounded like he was promising that he'd be there when you woke up, you knew he wouldn't be so you shifted close to him. Still feigning sleep as you whined in your sleep as you felt his hand leave your skin. You felt him gently put his hand on yours and his breath against your skin, "so pretty," he muttered before his lips connected with your neck. You could feel how gentle he was trying to be, you could feel how he was trying not to leave a mark as he licked, gently bit, and sucked on your skin. You could feel his want for you through how he breathed and how tender he was, so you let out a little whimper.

"Shit..."

You heard him curse when he pulled away, you felt him stand up and heard him rummage through your drawers. You could hear his panic as he whispered, "where the fuck do they keep their makeup," you heard him yank open another drawer and it clatter to the ground. You stirred in your bed and then you heard nothing. It was a good five minutes before you felt him settle next to you again, his fingers gentle against your neck as he applied concealer to your neck. Hoping you wouldn't notice the hickey in the morning. You kept hearing him mumble about how pretty and perfect you were before he fell silent. So you whimpered out his name in your sleep again, you felt him clutch your hand and press a kiss to your head. You felt his lips trail down your face before he hesitantly pressed a kiss to your lips, a smile stretched across your lips and you stirred in your "sleep" again. You heard him sigh and then whisper out, "I have to go Pumpkin; I love you," before he left. You felt his hand leave yours and the sound of your window sliding open and shut. You waited a few minutes before you navigated through your apartment to the bathroom, you delicately removed the makeup and smirked slightly at the dark mark on your skin. You gently traced the delicate skin and knew what you were doing tomorrow.

You walked into school with a pep in your step, your hair pulled up and away from your neck as you showed off the hickey from Sol. When asked about it you gave a halfhearted shrug before you told them it was a curling iron accident, which most believed. You went about your day until lunch, where you watched Sol freeze in place before you called out to him. You watched his mind buffer for a moment before he continued over to you. Hyugo pointed out the hickey and you cut your eyes at Sol, who choked on his lunch, before you laughed it off and said it was the weirdest thing. You thought just kind woke up with it, but figured you just burned it on the curling iron that morning when you were too tired to comprehend what was going on.

It was a few weeks later when you finally decided to catch him in the act. Humming softly to yourself, you shut your blinds and went about your nightly routine. You hummed softly as you fixed a false body into your bed, made of pillows, some towels, and a wig. You flicked your light off and waited in a dark corner. You watched Sol quietly enter before you took light steps behind him, "Sol," you whispered out as he whipped around. Your delicate fingertips rested against his chest before you pushed him onto your bed, your legs gently straddled his as you sat on his lap. You held his upper body up by his sweatshirt and pulled his mask down.

"How long do you think you could do this for Clever Boy?"

You questioned as your eyes scanned his flushed face, you watched his eyes flick around as he fumbled through words. A sadistic grin crossed your face as you gently took his neck in your hand, squeezing softly before you pulled him close. Your nails digging into his back as you grinned as his dazed out look made a shiver go down your spine, before you clicked your tongue at him.

"My, my, you're pathetic Sol. Utterly pathetic."

The whine that met your ears at your disapproval of him and his actions. Delicately you lead his hand to your waist and you felt his pulse sped up under your fingers, making you laugh.

"God... Getting all worked up, just by touching my waist Sol? God, you're sick..."

You spat, making him look away from you. A mad look in his eyes before you jerked his head back, his face centimeters from yours as you growled lowly.

"I didn't say you could look away Sol. Don't fucking look away from me, don't you dare."

You said, your commands making his eyelashes flutter.

"H-How," Sol started as he tried to hold eye contact with you, "how did you know Pumpkin..?"

His voice came out barely above a whisper and you laughed before pushing his upper body against the bed. You looked down at him with a snarl.

"I'm not an idiot, you moved my food and drinks. Put sleeping medication in them, I'm not an idiot Sol. There's camera's everywhere. I know everything you've done in the past month Sol. So come on, tell me why. Tell me why you did it."

You demanded as he fumbled for answers, though the only pathetic words that left his lips were "love you" and you just wouldn't take that.

"Oh hunny," you coo'd as you pulled him back up and held his face in your hands, "you're sick pathetic bastard. There's no way I could love someone who decided to mark me at night, when they thought I was asleep."

Your voice came out so sweet, but that didn't stop his eyes from getting sad and looking away. If you couldn't love him, why didn't you call the police? Or move? If you couldn't love him, why're you holding him like this? Your hands on his face and sitting in his lap. He was so confused he didn't register his arms wrapping around you, or how you pushed his head against your neck until you spoke.

"So why don't we try that again, hm? Mark me while you know I'm awake Clever Boy..."

Your finger's played with his hair and he delicately kissed you, making sure not to hurt you as he held you tight. You grimaced at his delicate nature and grabbed a handful of his hair before yanking it back, you heard a whimper and saw how his eyes filled with tears.

"If you're not going to take care of me, then I'll find someone who will."

You threatened as you began to get up. Just as you were standing he pulled you back into him and whined, "n-no I can," he whined and buried his face in your neck. Lapping and sucking at the skin, pulling a content hum from your lips. You whimpered softly when he bit down at the skin, that's when the dynamic changed. His hands pulled you closer to him, and he got more aggressive with his assault on your neck. Your whimpers turning into soft moans before you whimpered out his name, a groan came from Sol as you whimpered again. Your eyes rolled back and you gripped at his hair again, this time gentle and desperate as you shuffled closer to him.

"Fuck... you sound so pretty Pumpkin..."

You whimpered quietly at Sol's whispered words your body moved closer to his and you whined softly. You wanted him so badly right now, to feel his touch against your skin. Is this how he felt? Desperate and needy for your touch? You don't remember when he had you underneath him, or when your pajama pants were yanked off but you do remember how his face was buried in your neck and how he whined when his cock was fully inside you. You clung to him, your nails leaving irritated red streaks down his back as he littered your skin with gentle bites and hickies, you choked out a moan when his hips snapped into you. You sobbed out in pleasure, making him stop. You whined and squirmed when he stopped before he kissed you, "are you alright," he murmured out as he gently pulled away from the kiss and stared lovingly down into your eyes. Yours were tear filled and desperate as you nodded, god why did he stop? Was this a punishment? Was he teasing? No... his hands gently held your face as he kissed you again, his thrusts gentle and loving as your eyes fluttered shut. Your arms went around his neck and you pulled him closer, you wanted to feel every inch of his skin on yours.

The morning came and your eyes fluttered open, you were dressed and you smelled pretty. You smelled like your shampoo and like something else... you couldn't even think about it correctly. You couldn't place the smell, and you started to think it was all just a wet dream. You couldn't find anything on your camera's other than you falling asleep. You honestly couldn't remember how you even thought of that for a dream, it upset you the entire walk to school. You didn't think anything was off until Sol wrapped his arms protectively around you and you remembered that gentle touch. You jumped at first before your body unconsciously melted against him, it was then your best friend pointed out the hickies that were poking out from your collar. You flushed a deep red, an actual blush. You couldn't remember the last time your heart beat that fast, which brought a chuckle from Sol as he murmured against your neck.

"You're adorable Pumpkin, did you at least enjoy our fun last night?"

Those words convinced you it wasn't a wet dream and you wanted to curl up and die, smacking Sol's arm you brought a laugh from him and a goofy smile before you felt him kiss the top of your head. You loved this so much, you loved being held, but maybe you only loved it because it was Sol.

[dreorig]

Oh wow, you just happen to be taller and broader than your mercenary boyfriend!

[ deadpool x dom male reader | nsfw under the cut | had this sitting in my drafts for a while now so uhhh forgive any mistakes :P ]

First things first. He thinks that's so hot of you.

He brags about you to everyone. Everyone. Random people, someone's he's fighting with, a friend; they all will hear about how handsome and tall Wade's boyfriend is.

Wade gets heart eyes when you both are in public and you hold his waist or hug him from behind. A subtle possessive squeeze on him will also do the job.

Wade will steal your clothes. He is 6'2, do you seriously think he'd ever have another chance to feel smaller in someone else's clothes anytime soon? Yeah, he's not losing this chance.

How many times can he ask to arm wrestle with you until you threaten to cut his vocal chords?

"So we can't get to decide what we're getting for dinner and we both want different things..." "Wade—" "There's only one way to solve this situation..." "Wade. No." "ARM WRESTLING!" "NO."

You will give him piggy backs and carry him around in bridal style either you like it or not. It's a demand.

He jumps at you randomly. First time he did that he jumped from behind, but you didn't know that was him, so your instincts made you grab that apparently stranger and throw him across the room, making him hit a wall. Wade fell even more for you right then and there.

Wade was mesmerised. You desperate; so you ran towards him, already chanting an infinite amount of sorry's. "Shit. Sorry, sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to—" your apology was interrupted by the sound of Wade's laugh, which took you aback a little. Wade jumped to his feet and into your arms, this time you caught him properly. He wrapped his legs around your waist and arms around your neck, his chest still trembling with laughter. "Do you know how unbelievably hot that was? Never stop manhandling me."

Wade can reach the top shelves just fine but will ask you to grab the things instead. He just wants to enjoy his tall dog privilege.

He will always go to the gym with you if he's not busy re-killing former US presidents, slaughtering some asshole or pestering Logan. Hell, Wade loves to see your muscles flexing and your sweaty self after a good workout.

Asking you to pick him up (like this) became a part of your workout routine. He giggles and melts in your hold because he loves the fact that you pick him off the ground so effortlessly, like he's a piece of paper.

Fuck him doggy style and slap his ass with your big hands and you'll hear the loudest moan ever.

So loud you'll probably need to slip a few fingers inside his mouth to keep him shut. You don't need any neighbours hearing what's yours only.

You know what they say about big hands, eh? Wade knows it better than anyone and God, he loves the way you stretch him. Naturally he's got a high pain tolerance, so you being big and making him see things without having to use a toy is just perfect.

Doesn't mean you never use toys, tho. Fuck Wade's face and make him gag on your big cock while he has a dildo deep inside him, he'll give you the biggest puppy eyes ever as he humps on your leg.

You reminding him of your size difference never fails to make him wet. Never fucking fails. Tell him he should stand in front of you to get a better view since you're taller and he won't hide the fact that his underwear is already stained with pre-cum.

No marks such as love bites will stay on Wade's body due to his healing factor, much to his and your dislike, but eventually you found a way to claim him as yours — he's got to wear one of your shirts while you so relentlessly fuck him and even after you're done. Your scent and sweat that lingers on the fabric make Wade's head spin, often leading him to beg for you to fuck him once again.

Plus wearing your clothes just feels right. The way they're always oversized on him serves to remind him of how much bigger you are. He's got a size kink, he can't help it.

"Aren't you my little bitch?" you increased your pace. "Fuck, yes, yes," he pushed his hips down, meeting your thrusts. "Did I fuck you dumb? Use your damn words," you growled in his ear. Wade's cock throbbed at that. He was indeed beginning to think you fucked him dumb, yet he replied, "Arghh— yes, shit, yes, I'm your little bitch~" "Yeah, that's right. Let me show you how a real man treats a little bitch like you," you slapped his ass so hard even your own hand burned a little. Wade came right away without even having to touch his cock this time. How many times was it now? Not that he cared, he just wanted more, more, more. You chuckled, pleased with your own work. "Look at what a slap can do to a little bitch in heat." Wade wasn't sure of what you really said, but his ears caught "little bitch in heat" and he smiled dumb, more than happy to know he was your little bitch in heat.

[liiixsturniolos]

"Think you can take it?"

matt sturniolo x reader & chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: smut, unprotected, p in v, threesome, oral (male receiving).

¿ what happens when you Matt and Chris get a little too bored, but both of them want you.. you'll have to compromise and fuck 'em both at the same time.

You were sitting in the living room with your friends, Chris and Matt. Watching a movie you've seen before. Nick was out at a space camp meeting, and you all sat there bored without him.

You sit relaxed in the middle of the couch, with Matt on one side and Chris on the other.

The room is uncomfortably silent. Chris and Matt are looking back and forth at you.

"God, I'm so bored." You sigh.

Chris' hand slides up your thigh, "Ya' look so fuckin' good in those shorts.." he whispers

Blood rushes to your face, forcing your cheeks to turn a rosy-red,

Matts eyes focus on your face. He's analysing every expression, watching the way you blush and Chris' hand creeping further and further up your thigh.

You catch Matts eye, and he gives you a jealous glare and aggressively grabs your other thigh. They fight for your attention, like children, it was pathetic, if only they knew you wanted them both.

Chris leans in, pulls up your chin, and kisses you for what feels like hours, fluttering your eyes open and closed as he wraps his lips around yours.

Then he let's go, and turns to look at you, until Matt grabs you, kisses you harder, more intense, his lips pressing down on your mouth, his hands slipping under your top,

Minutes later, you're all undressed, Matt is sitting on the edge of the couch, pants down, and you're sliding off his underwear.

You dont know how you ended up like this, but you knew you didn't want to stop.

“Can you be a good girl and suck my cock?" Matt says, innocently, with the tilt of his head,

“Go on, let him fuck ya' mouth ma'," Chris tells you as he slowly slides into you from behind.

You attach your mouth around Matts head, and he lets you get used to his dick in your mouth before thrusting his hips forward, his tip hitting the back of your throat violently,

"Can I?" Chris whispers slyly in your ear, you whisper back an approval, and he started fucking you fast, and deep, you tried to keep your mouth around Matt but it dropped open,

"Mmm..-fuck!" You cry out as Chris pounds himself into you, hitting your spot, He presses his chest against your back, "Ya' gotta' keep helpin' Matt out to, or ill stop" he mumbles, you agree to this, taking Matts dick back into your mouth happily.

“Shes soaked." Chris chuckles. Rubbing against your clit perfectly, "come for me," he groans in your ear,

Your legs start to shake, and you let out a loud moan with your mouth still wrapped around Matt and come around Chris' dick. Chris comes at the same time, his cum spilling out of you,

But he continues to thrust himself into you, and you let out soft sighs and whimpers as he does, focusing now on sucking Matt off, you run your tongue around him, putting pressure on his cock, flicking your tongue across him, taking him in further of your throat.

"Fuck-ugh..fuck." Matt moans out as he comes into your mouth, throwing his head back in pleasure.

You give him a proud look before using your fingers to wipe away some of his cum that had dripped out of your mouth...

hope you liked this shittt ;)!! Interact if you did, likes, re-blogs and I LOVE comments from anyone. <3

taglist: @matthewsroses @chrislilcumslvt @1-d0nt-w4nn4-b3-m3-4nym0r3 @pvssychicken @ivysturnss @mattsbitchh @matts-myloverboy @sturniolo-fann @emely9274

#s

[yanderefarm]

If your requests are open can you do a Dom male reader x Valentino while vox watched thru hidden cameras (hasbin hotel)

valentino x male bull demon reader (and yandere!vox)

cw;; stalking, voyeurism, size kink, aphrodisiacs, belly bulge, edging

this is so fucking long oh my god. i didn't mean to go insane i just did. i want so badly to put valentino in his place let me get him pregnant damn. but also the idea of vox being a little yandere nerd is so cute. mans over here like "he should have been mine" like he'd ever even approach you on his own.

y/n: why did the power go out...

val: vox probably got caught jacking off to alastor again or something. just keep going, babe.

vox, crying: my recording....

vox had never been secretive about his desire to know what everyone was doing every moment of every day, well atleast not to his coworkers. valentino and velvette both were well aware that every room in the building was home to secret cameras just out of sight. there was a silent understanding that vox wouldn't look in on their most intimate moments and if he did he sure as hell wasn't supposed to record it.

rules change. especially when valentino is running around with some young demon that came out of nowhere. vox was used to valentino's flings, his penchant to find a favorite whore and milk it dry until it broke. he'd never seen valentino with someone like you.

you were large, easily towering over valentino in height and your chest was the size of two of him put together. you had the characteristics of a bull with two hooves and large curved horns. you weren't valentino's usual type if he didn't know better vox would never have imagined that you two would be hooking up.

he watched the night valentino approached you, apparently val wanted a big guy like you to mess up angel's guts. you offered to show him your skills instead. next thing vox is watching you bend valentino over and turn him into a sobbing bitch. he really regretted not saving that first video but at the time he figured it would get re-created at valentino's studio the next day. but you never made it to his studio.

now vox was watching with baited breath as you followed behind valentino. the way you let the moth drag you around like a pet under the guise that you were his bodyguard. the way vox caught you eyeing up valentino's legs in the elevator up. before it reached the right floor you had whispered something in valentino's ear that clearly caused the moth to fluster before he regained his usual cocky composure.

as you two got off the elevator vox quickly switched to the cameras in valentino's bedroom. originally it had only been around 3, now there were around 9. vox had cameras and microphones everywhere in that room to catch every little sound and every angle of your body. the one in the headboard was his favorite, it was angled so perfectly that when you were pounding into valentino he could pretend it was him underneath of you.

valentino clumsily unlocked the room like an old man with a hooker a third his age. as soon as the door opened you pushed him inside, your mouth immediately slamming against val's own. one set of the moth's arms wrapped around your neck while the others played with the hem of your too tight shirt. your large hands rested on valentino's waist, your fingers so easily able to completely wrap around him. your mouths were opened and the familiar sight of val's love potion dripped from where your tongues met.

you shoved the thin moth right up against the door, his large wings unfurling in ecstasy. you barely dragged your mouth away, syrupy sweet pink trails still connecting your mouths as valentino gasped for air. your mouth wasn't done though, instead your wet tongue ran along his exposed neck before you closed your lips around his pulse and began sucking. valentino moaned, his head rolling back against the door as his body tried to push up into your own. the hands that had been playing with your shirt now dragged their claws over the fabric pulling a hot moan from you.

you pulled your head up to admire the new mark resting on valentino's pretty neck. as you were admiring val was tugging at your shirt again impatiently. you let out a little puff of laughter through your nose as you finally relented and pulled the offending fabric off your body. immediately the hands that had been digging into your back moved to touch and admire your broad chest. his fingers sunk into the fat on your chest and his lips curled into a satisfied smile.

"oh mi corazon~" he dragged his claws lightly down your chest before stopping on your nipples. "what a naughty body you have mr. bodyguard."

"god val can you not talk like we're in one of your pornos?" you rolled your eyes with your own smile on your face.

"oh no~ are you going to punish me mr. bodyguard?" he pressed a claw into your chest again.

"i think I'm gonna have you arrested mr. valentino." you picked him up with ease, his legs wrapping around your waist.

"oh no please don't arrest me, sir. there must be something i can do to get out of it~" he ran his fingers through your hair as you laid him on the bed.

"you're so lucky I'm high on aphrodisiacs and you're cute." you spared both you and vox from more of valentino's cringe acting by slamming your mouths together again.

valentino got busy undoing the buttons on his shirt and taking off your pants. you were focused far more on sucking his tongue, your own hands desperately groping at his ass. you could still taste the remnants of the love potion on his tongue along with his sweet taste had you licking and sucking every corner of his mouth for more. valentino moaned into your mouth, his hands pushing at your stomach gently.

reluctantly you pulled away from him leaving another trail of saliva between you. "more... where's your flask?"

"thats not a good idea, mi vida. now get your pants off." valentino sat up just enough to slide his shirt off.

"c'mon val. when have you ever been against more sex?" you slid your pants off and stepped out of them, crashing back into his body.

"m not against more sex. but-"

"then c'mon~" you pressed your face into his neck trailing some kisses into his fluff. "you know I'll make it worth your while."

he let out a soft moan, fingers tangling into your hair. "mm ok a little more."

valentino fished his flask out of his skin tight pants and took a swig of it. you licked the bit that trailed down his lips before you kissed him properly. the sweet liquid immediately swirling around your mouth as his tongue pushed it deeper in. you could feel your head becoming lighter and your underwear tightened uncomfortably. where before there had only been a dull warmth that spread throughout your body now you could feel a desperate pulsing heat in every inch of your skin. your hands gripped valentino's legs tight enough to bruise as you drew them up to your hips. your body rocked forward, your painful erection rubbing against val's own causing what felt like electricity through your body.

"fuck..." you moaned, body humping against him again. valentino pressed his hands against your chest and pushed at you.

"baby, i told you it was too much." he scolded as you reluctantly rolled over onto the bed.

"val 'm on fire. if I don't fuck your brains out I'll probably die."

"oh no who could have seen this coming?" his fingers hooked in his too tight pants and he dragged them off his long legs.

you rolled onto your side, eyes tracing valentino's long legs while your hand lazily palmed your cock. valentino pressed a hand against your shoulder, pushing you back into the bed. he moved to straddle your hips, your boxers and his lacy thong the only things still separating you. he ran his claws down your stomach and you let out a deep groan, your hips rolled up into him.

"you wanna fuck me, baby?" val accentuated his words by grinding down into you.

"wanna fuck you." you grabbed his hips torn between stilling him and grinding up into him further.

"you gonna lay there and let me ride you?" he brought his lips down to trail kisses down your jaw.

"mmplease" you moaned, each kiss feeling like another electric shock to your system.

val hummed as his lower set of hands slid down to his thong. he made a show of hooking his fingers into it and dragging it down until his cock popped free, his leaking tip making a wet smack against his stomach. you watched impatiently, rutting your hips up against him while he kept making a show of himself. his hands slid across his pelvis to his cock, smearing the precum that dripped from his tip across his length.

"val, fuck, c'mon" you practically whined as you tried to grind against him again. "i get it you're so pretty. let me fuck you."

with a click of his tongue he let himself go. he said something in spanish too but you were too distracted to catch it. instead you were more focused on the way it felt like you were melting as his thin hands trailed up your thighs. his nimble fingers tugged at the hem of your boxers before he finally moved. he swung himself around so he sat on your stomach and all you could see was his pretty wings, you could feel his upper set of hands sliding down your stomach and into your boxers. his larger set of hands dragged your boxers down to your knees, your cock springing out and hitting against his own. you both moaned at the sudden feeling, electric currents running right to your brain as you thrusted your hips into the air. val shushed you sweetly before taking your cock in his hands, it took all four of his hands to encircle the full length of your massive member.

"fuck its always so much bigger than i remember." val admired as his hands ran along the bottom of your heavy length. "god how do you ever fit this thing inside of me... I'm amazing."

you snort a bit at his words before a loud moan rips out of your throat. it's hard to think when your cock is absolutely throbbing and the heat in your entire body feels like molten lava. you don't even realize that your hips are trying so hard to fuck into his hands, he has to pin you down with all his strength to just get you to stop shaking the bed.

"we're not gonna do that shit where you go crazy and start fucking me like a wild animal tonight. I'm in control, got it?" he said it like you could respond or even really parse his words.

vox rolled his eyes at the screen before taking a drink of his coffee. "as if that's gonna happen." he said like valentino could hear him.

vox had watched you two go at each other like rabbits and he'd never seen you quite this out of it. he knew it was just the drugs and nothing valentino was doing, i mean for a guy whose whole job is sex his hand job is so sloppy. if vox had you all to himself like that his long tongue would be swirling around as much of your length as he could reach. just thinking about it vox brought his fingers up to his mouth before sliding his tongue out to wrap around his hand down to his wrist. his other hand slid down to the bulge in his pants and he rubbed against it. if you were his he wouldn't make you wait like val was. if you were his he would be ready to take your massive cock whenever you wanted him.

valentino was teasing you again, one hand spreading pink lube along your swollen cock while another worked his tight ass open. his wings had spread enough that you could watch him fingering himself but he had his weight pressed against your hips so you couldn't buck into him. the sight of your jaw slack and your brows furrowed with one of your hands trying in vain to keep your moans in flooded vox's screens as he committed it to memory.

"don't be quiet, baby. let it out." vox and valentino said at basically the same time.

vox's claws dug into his thigh as you reacted to his words. you removed your hand and cried out loudly, back arching as you spurt out thick cum all over valentino's hand. your body was shaking as your hips fell back to the bed, the sweet shock to your system made your brain fuzzy. valentino licked up the cum that coated his hand, his fingers sliding into his mouth with a moan. he slid his other hand away from his slicked up hole with a slight whine. before he could miss it too much though he moved himself over your broad slick tip, pressing it between his cheeks.

you didn't wait. your eyes still glazed with the familiar signs of the aphrodisiac you grabbed your pretty moth roughly. valentino cursed as you flipped your bodies so you were over top of him, his wings pressed uncomfortably against your chest and your cock nestled right between his thighs.

"fucking, seriously? we haven't even started yet!" valentino squirmed fruitlessly as you pressed kisses down his neck and into his fluff.

"i told you." vox hummed as he undid his own pants.

you were unresponsive though, the only sign you even actually heard valentino was a little whine you gave. you tried to press yourself into him but your cock slipped down to rub against his own. valentino huffed about to scold you even more but all that came through was a groan. you tried again only to whine in his ear when you once again slipped.

"fu-fuckin hell, amor if you had, ngh, just waited another minute..." valentino's arms fumbled to reach behind him, your humping not helping.

his hands finally found your cock and he pressed your tip against his hole again. he used one hand to spread himself enough for your thick head to finally push inside of him. once the tip made it in you sunk into him deeper, a loud moan falling off your lips at the smaller man's impossible tightness. valentino's thighs were shaking as he grunted and whined, some of his own cum dribbled out of his cock at just having you finally enter him.

when you pulled your hips back a bit and sunk a good third of your cock inside him? fuck. valentino's claws dug into the sheets as he practically screamed. your massive girth was splitting him in half like it was the first time. you felt a little bad for your boyfriend and you leaned down to press soft kisses into his wings. the sensation had valentino's head falling back and resting against you. one of your large hands moved up to wrap around his throat while the other death gripped his hips.

you sunk your hips deeper, every painfully good inch sinking into his too tight body had both of you panting. valentino had tears in his eyes, his throat starting to hurt from crying out and getting the air pushed out of him. you were out of it, valentino was lucky you hadn't forced yourself completely inside him yet, your mind was fuzzy and the warm tightness felt like heaven on your aching cock. your mouth left wet hot kisses where val's wings met skin and up the back of his neck. it was a trail of bruises and bite marks and your hot saliva. you were about halfway inside his body.

"fuck. fuck. baby.. my stomach." val said in breathy awe as his hand touched his stomach and he could feel you bulging against his skin.

you trailed another flurry of kisses up the other side of his neck. "only half way." valentino didn't know if you were replying to him or just telling yourself.

his hole tightened around your length as he came all over the sheets, harder than before. you let out a deep grunt, hands pulling him up against your body like he was trying to escape. tears finally fell down his cheeks as you inadvertently sunk deeper into him. it was getting to be too much for your moth and he tried to push at your stomach.

"pathetic." vox grunted, watching as valentino tried uneventfully to push you back. "you got him high, you should be able to handle it."

vox had pulled his cock out and began making slow agonizing strokes everytime he watched you push deeper into valentino. he had been imagining that he was the lucky bastard getting his guts ruined by your massive size until valentino ruined it by trying to push you away. vox had several dozens of recordings that proved val's ability to take every inch, he didn't need to be such a baby about it every time. if it was him he would be thanking you for it even if he short circuited.

apparently you weren't paying attention to valentino's weak protests this time either. one of your large hands grabbed his thin wrists and you held them behind his back. the new leverage this gave you helped you sink until your pelvis pressed against his soft ass. valentino sobbed and squirmed underneath you but every movement only made him feel your massive cock in his stomach more.

"fuck fuck fuck, please-"

you took that as a sign to move and you dragged your hips back, your cock sliding back halfway with more ease now. and then you snapped your hips back into him, your heavy balls slapping against val's. that's how your brutal pace began, slow purposeful thrusts pulling back and then slamming every inch back in. valentino was screaming and in a few snap of your hips he had cum around you again. you had stuttered just a bit then but otherwise you kept your relentless pace.

valentino's thighs were shaking with every slam into him. if it hadn't been for your grip on his arms keeping him upright he would have already lost all strength in his legs. your other hand had wrapped tighter around his throat successfully shutting up his screaming and crying as his face turned red. he clawed at your hand but it was no use, eyes rolling back as he came a 4th time. you followed shortly after, emptying yourself inside his tight hole. your head was getting a bit clearer.

vox had been edging himself while he mimed your movements. his hand around his own neck was certainly not enough to get the same effect as your hands would but it was just enough. he was so close when you came inside valentino but he stopped himself, his breath shakey and his wires buzzing. he watched as you pulled valentino into another position and began fucking into him, his blue drool dripped down the corners of his lips.

his hands quickly scrambled to find his new toy, unsatisfied just using his hands anymore. he pulled out a large toy. while it didn't live up to your size it was the same exact shape as you after he'd meticulously mapped out your entire length with several videos. he could have gotten the sizing perfect as well but he was working up to it still and what he had now was already a bit too much. vox applied a generous amount of lube to the toy, lovingly stroking it like it was yours with your moans and the wet sound of your cock playing through his speakers.

after coating the entire toy he pulled his pants off completely and climbed to his knees on his office chair. he watched the headboard camera, examining the way your face so beautifully showed every drop of pleasure as his fingers pressed into his tight hole. you closed your eyes as you grunted in pleasure and vox pressed his forehead against the screen as his breathing got more ragged.

"can i.. please...?" he asked the air, drawing himself closer to the edge again.

he imagined that he could hear you mocking him and asking if he was going to cum before you even put it in. if he was going to be another pathetic whore like valentino. he let out a choked no as he reluctantly dragged his fingers from his needy hole. vox blinked bringing himself back to the moment before swallowing and taking a deep breath.

truthfully vox had been edging himself to you for weeks now. he made a game of it. at first it was just seeing if he could wait until you came so he could cum with you. then it became more. he needed to prove he was better than valentino, more patient than valentino. every time he would imagine you praising him for not being a messy slut like val. one time turned into two and now he was at 7. he could imagine you being so proud of him, kissing his face gently and telling him he was so good for you.

he felt his screen get hot imagining your gentle kisses and touches. he took another deep breath, successfully calmed down as he heard you grunt out another orgasm. you were pouring more of your thick cum into valentino. vox laughed.

"you're so mean. fuckin making a mess of that idiot when you could be here with me." he reached out and dragged a claw carefully down his screen.

you changed your and valentino's position to one of vox's favorites. god it's like you knew he was watching. valentino's long legs over your shoulders was the only part of the pesky moth he could see and instead vox could get a perfect view of every muscle you moved to push your hips into your lover. he put the toy in his chair and slowly lowered himself onto the broad tip. one hand held him steady on the desk while the other spread himself open for the toy. just as it pushed into him he heard you let out a throaty moan and he felt his heart skip a beat.

vox moaned for you as he lowered himself down further on the toy that was just too big for him. he understood why valentino's thighs were always shaking when you were filling him. his own thighs were trembling being filled with something half your size. god, he wondered how you would break him, how your cock would make his stomach bulge. he could take it though. he would be so grateful. he was muttering thank you as he pushed the toy halfway into him. you again moaned for him like you were acknowledging him.

vox had to force himself to stop before he got too close to the edge again. his brows furrowed as he watched you make valentino cum all over himself again and his bitter jealousy bubbled in his chest. that was enough to calm him down this time so he focused himself again on taking every inch of his toy. he heard your delicious sounds as you came again, this time cursing as you rode it out into val's sloppy hole. vox buried the rest of the toy inside of him, imagining you came as soon as you filled him up completely. he was so good for you.

you changed your and valentino's position again, this time you picked the moth up in your arms and began using him like a fleshlight. you could do that to vox too, he was smaller than valentino it would be so easy for you to use him. he matched your messy thrusts in and out of valentino's leaking hole as he fucked himself on his toy. vox fell forward both hands falling against the desk and clawing into it as he called out your name. you were more vocal, more conscious this time as you made a mess of valentino.

"fuck, you're so good f'r me, baby. take me so well." yes!! vox took you so well, he was your good boy. if you could just see him like this.

"yeah that's it baby. every inch, just like that." you were so breathless and your grunts were so good. vox could only pant and moan out his thank yous.

"you gonna cum f'r me again, slut?" it was like you could see vox's leaky and desperate cock. vox could only nod, losing his composure to stop himself as he reached the edge.

"cum f'r me, just like that. c'mon i know you have more in you." your voice was too much.

vox's wires buzzed and whirred as he dropped himself on his toy. his claws scratched the desk as his grip tightened. his entire screen went fuzzy with static as ropes of thick cum spurted onto the floor. he couldn't stop cumming and his fans whirred so loudly trying to stop him from overheating as he let loose a months worth of edging all over himself and the ground. and then everything went black. his screen cut out as it overheated but more than that all the power in the building, on the block went out with a static buzz.

"FUCK FUCK FUCK- NO- GOD DAMNIT-"

[tb3ih]

midnight snack ⨳ nanami kento

[ HUSBAND!kento takes care of both his girls ] fluff + smut!

the clock has just changed to read 3:29 am when nanami kento hears the slight creaking of his bedroom door swing open oh-so-carefully. the light padding of tiny feet come gently before they stop just at his bedside, tiny hands feeling for the comforter which he had pulled over his body.

"otōsan?" her voice is just above a whisper as her hand finds nanami's face, to which the man shifts just a little to look his little girl. eyes the same hue as yours, her long, blonde hair is a little mussed from sleep but she looks unharmed.

nanami sighs quietly, arm moving the covers slightly to allow her to crawl in, but she simply shakes her head, little hands moving to grab his hand and tug him a little as if to beckon him from the bed. "tummy hurts," she pouts.

careful not to wake your sleeping figure from the other side of the bed, he stands from the bed slowly. arms outstretched for his daughter, nanami catches her in his arms and hoists her onto his hip before exiting the bedroom soundlessly.

"alright, princess," nanami sighs, tired eyes adjusting to the light warm light of the kitchen before he sets her down on the counter. "are you hungry?"

the little girl nods her head, eyes watching as he moves to the pantry to make her something quick. nanami returns with a household favorite, biscoff cookies, and a jar of nutella. "choccy!"

nanami brings a finger to his lips, smiling a little at her enthusiasm before telling her she has to keep quiet so as not to wake anyone up. "this has to be a secret between you and daddy," he explains in a low voice, "no one can know i let you have these."

his daughter nods with a grin, pinkie finger coming to link with his just as another voice joins the room.

"let her have what?" nanami's eyes find yours at the entrance of the kitchen from the hallway, your arms crossed and your body leaning against the frame. "what's the secret, kento?"

your eyes are almost taunting when you walk over to stand by his side, the tips of your fingers grazing the bare skin of his back so lightly nanami has to assure himself he felt it. you bring your hand to tuck a stray lock behind your daughter's ear, her giggle ringing out softly as you poke her cheek. "bubba, didn't we talk about waking daddy up for snacks?"

your daughter pouts a little, muttering a small sorry as she lowers her head a little, looking up at you through blonde lashes. you sigh, "three more cookies and then off to bed with you."

"yay!" she cheers, pumping her little fist up in the air, earning a low chuckle from your husband beside you and an exasperated but amused sigh from you. "thank you!"

you watch with your husband as she finishes, hopping off the counter with a little 'oomph' coming back to hug you two good night, offering a little smooch of gratitude before nanami walks back with her hand in his to her bedroom.

you've just put the food away are wiping the counter down of crumbs when your husband re-enters the kitchen. "i'm sorry i woke you, sweetheart," he apologizes, arms wrapping around your waist as you dry the counter with a towel. "i tried not to."

letting go of the towel, you turn and offer him a smile, your hands holding his face as you bring your lips to his temple. you pause, lips lingering for just a moment. "don't apologize," you start, "you must be exhausted, kento."

he simply nods, sinking into you the moment you let a hand tangle in his hair and your other travel the strong lines of his back. "i just..." nanami breathes deeply and you feel as though the weight of his body lessens just slightly. "i hope you might be able to forgive me for my work schedule..."

you pull away to look at him, brows furrowed as your eyes search his. the lines under his eyes are deep and you can see how the overtime has pulled at the lines of his smile. "no, don't even say that," you say, "we'll always be here, no matter the time of the day. you just make sure you come home to us, okay?"

he presses a soft kiss to your lips, almost as if to seal the promise. "okay."

[n]sfw under the cut!

warning(s) — oral & fingering (f!receiving), use of 'sweetheart', absolute brainrot.

there is a moment of silence before he speaks up once more. "since we're out here for a midnight snack, you wouldn't mind being mine?"

"kento—!" you can't finish your sentence because his lips are on yours, strong hands holding your hips as he places you on the counter swiftly but carefully, the warmth of his torso pressing against you as he leans into you. "kento, please—"

"shh," your hands come to hold his face against yours, fingers pressed against the strong lines of his jaw when you feel his tongue swipe your bottom lip. "let's not wake our little girl, hm?"

a whimper escapes you when your bottom lips gets caught between his teeth, the small moment of pain leaving a burning in your veins. nanami runs his hands up your seated thighs, the tips of his fingers teasing at the waistband of your sleeping garments. he lingers there, a small smile forming at your lips when you look him in the eyes. "may i?"

you nod slowly, never letting your eyes leave his as his fingers hook into the waistband of your pajama bottoms. his pace is achingly slow, tugging the silk material down your legs and folding it before letting it sit on the counter beside you. nanami's fingertips are gentle as they trace up your thighs and stop to hold your hips in place, his lips moving from yours to kiss down your throat.

he is a murmuring mess of 'you are so beautiful' and curses as he trails down your chest. you allow him to to guide you into a laying position, your back relaxing against the countertop as he makes his way down your chest. your husband takes a moment to press a chaste kiss on your lower abdomen, his eyes relishing the way your stomach caves in with shaky breaths.

hooking a finger in the band of your underwear, nanami teases the skin just beneath the material, leaving you to squirm a little where you lay. "please," you whimper, your fingers finding his hair and instinctively tangling in the blonde locks.

"hm?" his voice is a low and gravelly against the soft of your skin, every consonant of his resonating through your nerves at the moment. "if you're asking something of me, sweetheart, i'll need you to use your words."

his thumbs rubs slowly, achingly against your clit through the cloth of your undergarment, waves of heat spilling from between your thighs and washing over the rest of your body. "p-please just... make me feel good."

"with pleasure," nanami replies lowly, not a second later tugging any remaining material away from you, discarding it on the folded pile near you. his large hands are warm when you feel them against the back of your thighs, and they're gentler still as they push until your thighs are comfortably pressed against your stomach.

his lips start at your clit, offering a ghost of a kiss before you feel his tongue swirl around it and leave your needy body shuddering. though you can't see his face, you know your husband well enough to know it's taking everything in him from devouring you right then and there.

warm breath against your sex leaving you craving more, you nearly gasp at the feeling of his warm muscle dipping between your folds. he is cautious and exploratory at first, making sure you're fully relaxed before delving in all the way, the flexing of his tongue against your walls has your spine arching unintentionally off the wood of the counter.

you hear him groan into you as you involuntarily clench, his tongue continuing to work skillfully to leave your core completely undone. it's the combination of the occasional grazing of his nose against your sensitive bud and the grip of his hands on the back of your thighs when you squirm under him. "i'll never get enough of you," nanami mumbles, one of his hands coming to press into your soaked entrance. "i'm only using my lips and already you're a mess."

rather than tantalizing, his voice is observant, softer around the edges to reassure you that he would be gentle. nanami lets his finger sink into you, eyes lighting in satisfaction as he watches the way you sigh when he starts to finger you. he adds a second finger, his mouth attentive to your clit in a way that has you mewling, fingers pulling harder at his hair. your husband quickens his pace, adding a second finger and curling them, causing waves of ecstasy to wash through your nerves.

you whine his name, voice shaking as you feel the knot in your stomach untying, pleasure blinding your vision. "w-wait! i can't--"

"of course you can, sweetheart," nanami soothes, pulling you closer to his face from where you scooted up to in a feeble attempt to escape him. "you just do what you do best, and i'll take care of the rest."

and finish with a silenced cry, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you feel the tension in your lower abdomen snap. your thighs close around your husband's head, though he doesn't stop his movements, sinking his face deeper into you and curling his fingers in a deliciously deliberate pace.

you are a panting mess when nanami finally comes to stand over you, amusement tugging at the corner of his slick-covered lips. one of his hands is massaging your hip to ease the spasming of your frame and the other he brings to his face. you watch as he cleans your mess from his fingers, a sigh escaping from his lips at the sight of you on the counter.

leaning down, he lets his lips fall to the crevice where your shoulder meets your neck, his incisors suddenly latching on and leaving you to gasp at the sudden sting of pain. "kento, she's sleeping!" your voice is an urgent whisper, though you know it's ineffective when he lets up to look you in the eye.

in his eyes burns the emotion of a man starved, and you're starting to wonder whether you'll even make it to the morning. it isn't until he pulls your legs to rest on his shoulders that you know for sure you're a goner.

kissing the inside of your leg, he confesses, "i never wanted just a snack, sweetheart."

© tb3ih mmxxiv all rights reserved.

[youryanderedaddy]

tw: female reader, obsessive behavior, captivity, fantasy lore, abuse, murder mention, suggestive (?)

"You seem to be upset."

He's leaning against the window not too far away from you. Not too close as well - just far enough for you to feel at ease.

"Aren't you a mind - reader." You respond under your breath, trying to focus on the book you're currently reading - but the letters are escaping you, and you find yourself re-reading the same paragraph for the third time. He sighs, much like a disappointed father, before stepping towards you. And if you flinch just slightly, he doesn't pretend to notice or care.

"What is wrong, my flower?" The man gestures theatrically, soft velvet voice unbecoming of the monster he is flowing easily into the open air. You don't know what to say, really. It's been two years - or so you think, there is no way to keep track of time in this kingdom, not that time goes the same way in the elfen world as it does in the human, yet the part of you still capable of logical thought seems to think so. Two years, and there is very little you haven't already said. Very little left to be said, so your conversations are mostly rehearsed repetitions of what you already know. What you already fear - that you're going to die here. Or even worse. That you've become incapable of aging, so very consumed by this foreign land you detest that you've given up death for a life of boring, purposeless immortality.

"Don't I shower you with lavish gifts?" The noble moves closer, stalking towards you - observing you as if you're a butterfly pinned to a wooden frame under a microscope. "Don't I buy you the shiniest jewels? Not even the queen herself owns such sparkling emeralds." He scoffs, painfully used to your lack of response. You clear your throat, turning a new page - having little to recall about the last. It's completely meaningless just like all the other pages in all the other books you read. How funny, you think. In that distant, dreamy past of yours you were too busy to read - busy with work, busy with family, busy with friends. Busy with life. Now nothing gets in the way of your reading, you have all the time in the world - but there's no one to share the knowledge with. No one to spoil the ending. No time limits. No goal to it all, no final destination. So you read, and you soak the pages with salty tears not remembering a word.

"I am grateful for all the treasures you give me, my Lord." You answer nonchalantly, keeping your pointer at the end of the paper in a desperate attempt to find the sentence exactly where you left it off. You can feel him move closer to you - and the only indication of your growing fear are the shivers that travel down your spine with the beat of your violently full, thumping heart.

"Don't I provide you with all the entertainment your little human heart could possibly bear?" The duke clicks his long sharp nails together once against the other - an ugly metallic sound echoes deep into the ceiling reminiscent of a dying forest clow. "There has never been a lack of wine or music or dance in my court. I've gifted you more golden dresses than you can wear in this life. I've written you more poems than you can read." He keeps going, describing every little thing he's done for you, despite the fact that you've never asked for any of it.

"I admire your taste for indulgence, my Lord." You repeat almost automatically, the praises sitting on your tongue just waiting to be spilt from parted honey lips. Your eyes are glued to the book, but you've given up on reading long ago. Now you're simply trying not to cry - focusing your eyes at one word at a time and blinking repeatedly, manically, feeling as if the world with end the moment you let him see your weakness. You can't believe you still have so much pain in you - enough to feel loss and anger and, what's even worse, hope. Hope that one day you'll be free again.

"And tell me, flower—" His fist wraps around your low ponytail, forcing you to look up at him and meet his eyes for the first time tonight. What's staring back at you might as well be the bottom of the ocean itself, misty and dark, cold and unknown. Human eyes convey so much affection - so much care that you can never mistake it for anything else. With elves it's different - you can spend centuries looking for a hint of kindness, and you'll only get lost in those beatiful bottomless pits. Shiny and sparkling and completely empty. "Don't I give you love? Don't I embrace you tightly every night?" His voice lowers dangerously, barely above a whisper.

"I don't understand what more you could possibly want. Should I prove myself to you? Should I slay a dragon for you? Perhaps I could tie the heads of your enemies with a pretty bow and give them to you as a wedding gift, hmm?" He's babbling incoherently, nails digging into your scalp with unyealding grip. "Would that finally, finally make you happy, beloved?"

"No, no, please let go." You cry out in agony, wriggling out of his hold - but he's too strong, too massive to move. "I'm happy, I'm—" You sob pitifully, weakly pushing at his chest. "I'm happy with you. Please, you make me so happy, just please let go. And please don't hurt anyone."

He slowly pulls away, chest heaving in and out wildly. The scariest part is always his face. It remains unbothered - cold and defined like a statue of a god, his true feelings hidden by a mask of barely contained rage.

"You're happy with me?" He raises an eyebrow, foot stomping on the ground impatiently. You nod hesitantly, too shaken up to comprehend what you're even agreeing to. "Then prove it. Show me just how happy I make you." He grabs your wrist, pulling you face-first into his hard chest. "Do it, and I might reconsider my other more... inhumane methods of courtship." His lips twist into a cruel smirk. "And may the Gods help you."

As you sink to your knees you try to think of what book to read next - but no title comes to mind.