#this is my plea that they get to be soft and gentle ONCE

[mysteryanimator]

that s2 trailer gave me last min energy

[endursent]

- My Partner Turned Into A Cat And I Don't Know How To Fix It

【 content; established relationship , fluff , humour , angst if you squint(?) , gn!reader 】

【 characters; aventurine , blade , dr. ratio , jiaoqiu , jing yuan , moze , sunday 】

【 premise; " Your partner has been struck with a curse of some sort which has turned him into a cat, you have no idea how to fix it nor how long it might take. Yet you also cannot help but be rather amused by the situation despite the uncertainty…" 】

【 note; might make more parts, who knows. also two one-shots/fics between gss chapters? in this writing economy? 】

【 word count; 3.303 | read on ao3 | hsr reader ver | gi ver | gi reader ver 】

Aventurine;

You thought he’d be more agitated than this—usually Aventurine doesn’t stay still for long periods of time, always out and about, as if resting for too long or standing still raises the hairs on his neck as something rapidly approaches from behind him, unseen to anyone else.

  And yet now… he sleeps curled on the sofa in his apartment, you continue to scratch your head over the situation and how to fix it—you tried to ask Dr. Ratio, who you’ve only met once by chance with Aventurine, but he seemed knowledgeable, and you’ve seen some of his theses cited in arguments online…

  But all he replied with to your very concerned and urgent text message from Aventurine’s phone was; “lol”

  So you’re officially on your own, it’s bad enough that Ratio has rejected your plea for help and now knows about this, if it gets out to Aventurine’s coworkers…

  You sigh and plop yourself down on the sofa next to his curled form, yellow-orange fur swaying at your movements as he doesn’t even look up. For a moment, you’re a bit concerned… hopefully he’s still breathing.

  Reaching a hand out, one finger pointed straighter than others, Aventurine suddenly looks up—and closes his jaw around your finger. It’s a gentle hold, not exactly a bite despite the way it looks and the prick of his teeth. You blink at him, he slow blinks at you. “You’re so sleepy,” you note. Aventurine just licks your finger, letting go of it—though it was barely a hold.

  After having gotten what seemed to be a long-awaited proper rest over the span of two days, Aventurine seems to spring to life, not in the way he’s zooming all over the oversized apartment or knocking things over, he just seems very excited to see you when you come home from work—your partner might have turned into a cat for real, but your superior will NOT believe you—he sits on your thighs whether you’re on the couch, by the dinner table, kneeling to fix something under a shelf, anything. 

  He’s usually quite independent, so this somewhat clingy behaviour is surprising, but you don’t entirely mind, his fur is very soft.

  Aventurine didn’t even make a single sound when you bathed him after accidentally spilling some bolognese sauce on his back—he was wandering around your feet and nearly tripped you when you turned around. 

  Perhaps this temporary (hopefully) form has made him more confident in seeking the closeness to you he craves, the need for connection that he’s too reluctant to engage in most times despite being together for so long. 

Blade;

You squint your eyes open in the darkness of the night, why is it so hard to breathe suddenly? It woke you up, as if there was something hot and heavy on your chest.

  And there is, when your eyes adjust to the darkness, you see large flame-coloured eyes staring at you. Blade’s pitch black fur blends into the darkness of the night, but his eyes do not—if you didn’t know better you’d think there were two eyes floating in front of your face, but the body attached to them is very much standing on your chest.

  “... what?” you mumble sleepily, why is he staring at you like that? He doesn’t do this normally… you think. Maybe… does he?

  No response—you’re not sure what to expect, it’s not like he can talk in this form. 

  He does this every night, to a point you’ve started laying on your side so he at least has to stand on the bed. One night, you even reach out and grab him, pulling him into your arms so he’s unable to stand and stare like that. You come out with scratched arms, but it was worth the somewhat peaceful sleep when he finally settles. 

  It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, he’s always been in the corner of your eyes, sometimes waiting for you to finish what you’re doing, sometimes just standing there—not necessarily even looking at you or engaging with you in any way. He just likes to stand in the same room. 

  Except now he’s perched on shelves, under sofas or chairs, looming behind a corner so you almost step on him.

  Over time, he becomes a bit restless, but other than hiding away in warm, dark spots… but as you settle into bed, he’s always ready and hops onto your stomach as soon as your back hits the mattress. 

  The other Stellaron Hunters’ reactions range from curious concern to finding it hilarious. Firefly mentioned they have two cat members now, Blade wasn’t very happy about it… the day after she offhandedly mentioned that she could barely sleep and felt like someone was watching her the entire time. You decided not to mention his habit. 

  Blade doesn’t quite follow you at your heel the entire time… but he does always seem to be in the same general area, as he always has. It’s a bit of a relief, you thought you might get lonely without his constant presence. 

  He sometimes doesn’t run off when you pet him. Sometimes. 

Dr. Ratio;

Ratio is appalled by this development, he hates it. He doesn’t have opposable thumbs, he can’t communicate properly, and you won’t stop pinching his ears. You’re lucky he doesn’t bite you. 

  He, in his infinite wisdom, developed a way for him to communicate with you. He may be a cat now, but his work doesn’t have space to halt for even a day! And so it’s up to you to continue it under his guidance, because he will not be seen like this by his assistants. 

  His way is quite funny, for complex explanations or lengthy dialogue, he will slap his paws on a holo-keyboard to type it out, but otherwise he presses buttons laid out on one of his workbenches for general commands. “Write”, “Open drawer”, “Fetch tool” (he then vaguely gestures which one), and even “Eat” and “Nap”.

  You asked him if he wanted to add a voice-over to the buttons so you wouldn’t just have to listen to a buzzer made to catch your attention, but he just stared at you blankly.

  You pinch and rub his ears, despite protests.

  To ensure subtlety, he demands you carry him in your bag in and out of the lab and past the reception… and you can’t in good faith deny that it’s adorable to see his head poke out of your bag and squint around to make sure the coast is clear once you’re outside. 

  Ratio had never imagined to hear as absurd of a suggestion as when you asked him if you should ask any of his Intelligentsia Guild colleagues about this, surely they can put their brains together and come up with a solution? 

  Absolutely not, he says, by knocking an empty coffee paper cup over. 

  You caught him staring longingly at his own bathtub and asked if he wanted to take a dip, you can wash him. The idea sounded good… until he stuck his purple paw into the soapy water and felt the spine-shattering feeling of his fur sticking together and immediately wriggled so aggressively out of your grip—startling you of course—that you both went tumbling into the water.

  He sat on his bed, towel under his body and over his back with a traumatised expression on his face for about forty eight minutes straight. Not even an offering of some nice cheese from the fridge brought him out of it. 

Jiaoqiu;

Different from the rest of the cast, Jiaoqiu has found himself in the form of an extremely furry fox, matched exactly to the colour of his hair. He’s so soft that you can’t help but run your fingers through it, messing up the direction of the coat and requiring Jiaoqiu to stand up and shake himself a few times to right it out. It comes to a point he will nip at your fingers if your hand comes too close.

  One afternoon, you’re wondering where he went off to—he has a chronic tendency to wander off, even in regular foxian form—you go into the pantry to see his tail swaying excitedly, half of his body disappearing into a woven bag of peanuts. Startled for a moment that he might not be able to digest that—you’ve never had to take care of an actual fox before—you hurry towards him and pull him out, holding Jiaoqiu up.

  He screams in such a disturbingly human way you almost drop him. Whether the scream was of surprise or protest is hard to tell.

  You stand in front of him, sat on the divan in your home and try to look stern… but the smile and closed eyes he makes even in this form is so eerily similar to how he normally would with his usual expression that it almost freaks you out. You shouldn’t be surprised, he’s basically just a furry version of himself… but it’s too close! 

  And he got away with it too, damn him. 

  Despite the pale pink fur, the tip of his tail and ears, his legs and paws are all dark, and you can’t help but hold them, stroke through the fur through the change of colour and Jiaoqiu—though normally not liking his tail or ears to be touched, in this form he seems to accept it… he can’t lie to you with turning his snout up, you see his tail sway when your hand comes close, despite how he would nip at them before—you’ve cracked the code, smooth the fur back down after ruffling it, and it’s acceptable.

  Don’t think for a second that you’re safe to indulge in any unhealthy habits or dumb decisions even though his “warning smile” is absent, he will bite your pants and pull so hard they might rip. You were about to be roped into some nonsense by Feixiao, seeing the perfect opportunity to borrow you for some “racing”, when Jiaoqiu comes running at breakneck speed, bites your pants, and effectively drags you away.

  Feixiao just watches with a grin. Good luck next time.

  He sulks a bit about not being able to do his job for such an extended period of time, he has a good sense of responsibility and doesn't like to sway from his sworn duties too much.

  Also, he can tell by the smell alone that the food you make for yourself in the absence of his skilled work is severely lacking in critical ingredients, and is also plated wrong. But that’s more of a subjective nitpick—maybe he’s just getting restless.

  He decides to hide one of your shoes and watch in amusement as you search high and low through the house the next morning. Sitting on the carpet with a foxy smile. 

Jing Yuan;

Jing Yuan is delighted. He plops himself down on you no matter what you’re doing, if there is no surface to curl up, he will lie down by your feet, or anywhere he can be touching you with at least a part of his body. 

  Raking your hand through his thick fur, you pull your hand back and it’s covered in white hairs, he sheds more than Mimi.

  You vehemently vetoed his decision to rename Mimi to Wave-Treading Snow Lion when it began growing and showing signs of not being a grimalkin like he suspected it was.

  Speaking of Mimi, you walk into the Seat of Divine Foresight and see the two of them splayed out by the massive windows, artificial sunlight bathing them in warmth as Mimi lies on the floor belly up… and Jing Yuan lies on Mimi’s belly, his own facing up towards the sun. You don’t dare disturb them—mostly because you worry that Mimi will roll over and crush poor Jing Yuan under it. 

  So you set the documents on his desk slowly and sneak back out, the Cloud Knights always present in the room stand still and try not to do more than whisper between themselves.

  If you thought Jing Yuan was sleepy before, you were in for a surprise. As soon as his hands turned to paws, he was lounging around as lazily as he could get away with, which was infinite in this form—perhaps this was the taste of retirement he needed, and it might convince him to go through with it… you hope. For his sake. 

  Unfortunately, your partner is cursed with a perpetual disturbance of his naps, and a problem comes up in regards to an illegal trade of magically-charged artefacts—one of which having the potential to explode if handled wrong, which could hurt innocents during the exchange. He circles the Seat of Divine Foresight like he would normally in thought… except instead of his boots touching the ground in a rhythmic thump, it’s small paws padding on the floor.

  It’s cute—but then again, he’s always cute.

  Thankfully the problem is resolved due to the Cloud Knights having previously acquired knowledge of suspicious movements over the last weeks and are able to intercept the exchange.

  As a reward for his hard work, you make a big bowl of juicy fruits for him to dive into—though Mimi’s snout got in before him, and stole about half of it… you snooze you lose, dozing general. 

  Of course, he didn’t let you off that easy, cuddles were demanded with headbutts and loud meows of protest if you turned to do anything else, so you were stuck with two cats hogging your attention for the rest of the night, good thing you have two hands to scratch behind both of their ears at the same time.

Moze;

You thought for a moment he didn’t actually retain his senses, and had ran off somewhere, you dragged Feixiao with you to search the entirety of the Xianzhou Yaoqing… only to return home several hours later, exhausted and disappointed, to see Moze sitting on the kitchen counter with a fish in his mouth, tail swaying contently as he ate it off the bones.

  He would just randomly wander off and return at odd times, once you saw some blood on his paw and worried he had hurt himself, but no matter how you looked or poked and prodded, there was no wound. It must have been the capture of another fish or another… because, surely, Feixiao doesn’t have him doing work like this?

  You suppose it’s quite a good cover… no one would suspect a cat…?

  After locking him in your room for the workday to ensure he doesn’t go off somewhere, as you had asked an elder of the Alchemy Commission to come over and have a look at him, you came back with the old man to find the room empty.

  Given cat form, Moze has become the perfect escape artist—not that there’s much anyone can do to hold him down in his normal form. 

  Try as you might, it becomes somewhat of a game of you trying to keep him in one single place, and him disappearing like a leaf on the wind, only to show up later with a treat… usually for himself, but once he brought you a pouch of sesame balls. You hope he paid for it somehow, but you don’t hold your breath either.

  He sleeps exclusively by your feet, circles a few times and wriggles into a comfortable position against either leg that’s closer. You tried to get him to sleep closer to your torso or on your inviting arm, but he always stood up and returned to the spot by your legs after a few minutes. 

  One time, you were stroking his tail absentmindedly and accidentally pinched it only slightly—yet he still jumped into the air like you had just stepped on it with a loud yeowl, making you yourself jump as he suddenly sped off across the room and almost slammed himself into the door leading to the study.

  You decided not to play with his tail after that, he even left scratches on the floor with his hurried scuttling across the room. 

  You spotted Jiaoqiu trying to feed him some of the ‘concoction’ he was making, which Moze sniffed curiously at—but you’re fairly certain there are not many things in that broth that will settle well—or at all—in his kitty stomach, and thus you swoop in and feign extreme interest in Jiaoqiu’s dish. Of course, the foxian sees through you easily and smiles widely. “Ah, why don’t you try it then?”

  You got yourself into this position, and so, you resign yourself to burnt taste buds for the next few hours. It’s delicious as always, but your poor mouth… Moze rubs his furry head against your legs in comfort. 

Sunday;

He couldn’t believe it. Sunday stared at himself in the reflecting mirror of the Astral Express’ windows for about ten whole minutes after being brought back to it in the state he was in. His ears flatten to his head and he glares at anyone that tries to approach, he doesn’t want to interact with anyone like this!

  He flees to his room and stays under the bed for several hours before you manage to lure him out with some delicious smelling grilled fish. Sunday reluctantly pokes his head out to grab it—which is when you grab him. 

  He flails and meows, struggling and squirming as you pick him up and stand… only to coo at him and rub his cheeks with your thumbs, musing how cute he is.

  Cute?! This is a horror scenario! 

  Despite his displeased meowing and nibbling on your fingers when you try to pet him, Sunday eventually gives up when he learns that you just find his struggling adorable. Suddenly your staring when he gets annoyed with small things start to make sense. Like when he hit his head on the ridge of a table after bending under it to fetch a pen he dropped, and the brief surge of frustration and annoyance he felt—only for you to swoop in to rub his head and see if it hurt. 

  He sulks the entire time, he doesn’t like it one bit. 

  March asks him if she can put him in outfits like she does with Pom-Pom, and he strategically avoids her for several days. Not a chance. 

  Thankfully, despite you ‘tormenting’ him on the first day, Sunday does seek comfort in you… you’re warm, and somehow you know exactly where to scratch behind his ears and under his chin where he can’t quite reach well enough. 

  You almost pull him in and rub your face into his furry torso when Sunday kneads at your shirt when you lay down to sleep, but decide that watching him is much cuter. You get such cuteness aggression when he does the smallest things. He purrs when you massage his paws or draw your fingers all the way down his back—and get a fistful of hair while you’re at it—and eventually he starts to do it at the smallest gestures… Pom-Pom once brought up concerns to Himeko that they thought that the train might have a problem, some kind of motor malfunction.

  Turns out Sunday was napping in the warm engine room and purring so loudly that when Pom-Pom leaned close to his hiding spot, they thought it was the engine. 

  He doesn’t let anyone pet him properly except you, not because he doesn’t trust the rest of the Express members—trust is a strong word in any case—but because when he closes his eyes in comfort, he wants to open them again and see you stroking through his fur. Nothing personal, though March does take it a bit personally.

[pyfsan]

Your taste on my lips

pairing: bf!jake x fem!reader

genre: smut (minors DNI)

synopsis: no plot, just reader and her bf jake fucking and being dirty

wc: 1k

warnings: rough sex (just at the beginning) mention of bruises, cum eating, oral (m receiving), face fucking, fingering, a bit of dirty talk (jake is chalant), also jake is a whimper. i think that's everything

☆

note: this is the first time I'm writing in English and I'm not a native speaker so there will be grammar mistakes so just read past it..... and be patient

smut under the cut

The thing is... jake doesn't know the time to stop. To the point you have to yell at him that you need to breathe a little, or even that it's hurting. He gets so drunk in the feeling that his senses become nothing and he can't hear for shit. But once your voice comes tearing through his ears he just completely freezes in place, looking at you with both eyes wide open.

"I'm sorry babe, did i hurt you?" He asks, soft voice as he runs his hands on the skin your legs, soothing you down.

"Just... go less rough, it'll bruise me later" you say back, trying to recover your breath.

"I'll kiss the bruise away, don't worry" he says cockingly and you slap his arm

"I'm being serious, your cock will tear me apart if you don't slow down" you hiss back and he kisses your neck picking up his pace again, but being much more gentle.

He buries his face in the curve of your neck, licking and sucking your skin just to compensate the steady pace he set himself, almost like to control his impulses. It makes you moan as his mouth keeps working on your sensitive skin and it gets even harder when jake goes down to bite and suck your nipples. He's actually unable to keep his pretty mouth empty, always having his puffy lips on your breasts, neck, pussy or even ass. He doesn't care as longs as his tongue is busy with your body.

Jake ends up caught in the heat all over again but now it doesn't hurt anymore so when his pace increases crazy hard all you manage to do is moan and dig your nails on his arms. You feel the moment he can't control his mouth around your nipple anymore, leaving his lips parted over your skin as he drools, feeling dizzy from how your pussy clenchs around his cock, milking him until he is moaning nonstop. He cannot cum inside you, you have agreed to don't do that so jake is almost fainting trying to hold his orgasm as long as he can. But he's losing this time so he pulls out of you to cum over your belly, dropping the most pornographic whimpers to your ears. You don't think for even a second before leading your hand to the mess he's made on you and picking his cum with your fingers. Jake watches you with his face high as you sink your dirty fingers into your mouth to taste him.

"Now you'll have to do that to my cock" he says, picking your cheeks with one of his hands to bring your face to his, kissing your wet lips.

"But will you let me fuck myself while i suck you off?" you plea, dolled eyes shining under your dark lashes, jake almost let out a moan as he hear you say those words. He can't believe you're so dirty like this for him.

"I can do that for you, babe" he'll say back, with his fingers running down to your wet core. You sigh when he finds your clit and presses it, rubbing gently first.

His cock starting to get hard again by the feeling of you under his fingers, so wet for him. Even thou he loves you so much and find it so endearing the way you cannot take your eyes away from his face while you fuck, jake himself likes to spend time looking over your body and the way it moves under his touch. So as he rubs your pussy, he watches the way you lift your leg a bit more, the way your stomach moves faster as your breathe gets faster and how your tits bounces a little when he starts fingering you. The whole thing is just pure magic for him. When jake notice, he's hard as fuck again, rocking his hips on your leg to get some release before sitting above your stomach to put it in your mouth.

You part your lips open, receiving his weight on your tongue and then swallowing as much as possible. Jake is no monster cock but he's no near little either, so you find yourself fighting for air anyways everytime you give him head. To your liking, jake already knows how you prefer doing it so he just starts fucking your mouth immediately, getting a little sloppy with his fingers on your pussy but you don't even mind it. Seeing the way he loses himself inside your mouth little by little is the best part. He grabs you neck using his free hand and just rolls his hips into your face nonstop, causing wet sounds to scape your mouth which is full of him. Once again he's whimpering and sighing, closing his eyes so tight he starts seeing white spots.

"Oh my god, i want to fuck that pretty mouth everyday" he starts babbling, head thrown back and eyes shut and you watch as he does his best to continue to massage your clit "I'm gonna fill your mouth with my cum, do you like it?" he says now looking back at you seeing you blink as an answer since you cannot talk right now. "you're so hot, fuck" he just goes back to babbling before he cums deep in your throat. He stops his hands on your pussy for a moment, lost in his senses, holding your head with both hands to keep you in place through his orgasm.

You do your best to breath by your nose, focusing to not choke on his sensitive cock. Jake pulls out and sits back on your lap eyes glued on your face.

"Let me see it" he asks touching your chin with his index finger so you open your mouth enough for him to see his cum all over your tongue and throat. Your boyfriend smiles with pride and closes your mouth "now swallow it for me, babe" he tells you and so you do, then he leans in to lend a kiss on your lips.

"I'm gonna make you cum now" he just says, brushing his nose over yours.

[ink-n-shadow]

outlaw!141 and their kinks…😈 (i apologize for the woman i became after writing this)

𝜗𝜚 pairing: outlaw!141 x reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: smut (minors—DNI), reader is fem/afab, poly!141, innocence/virginity kink, possessive!price, slight dacryphilia?, praise, corruption kink, anal, marking, gun play, throat fucking, pleasure kink, overstimulation kink, face sitting, allusion to forced (?) face sitting, unedited as usual

gang leader!price has an innocence/virginity kink through and through. he enjoys the innocence and sweetness that you exude, how pure and untouched you appear to be in his eyes. he knows you’re a virgin the first time you guys meet, can tell by the way your cheeks burn hot red with each sweet word he breathes and how your thighs tense and squeeze together beneath the heavy fabrics of your skirts. that’s why he’s the first one to sink his claws into you when you start staying at the camp with them, luring you into his tent with sweet words and the promise of a little drink from his hooch stash. you’re so pliant and willing to accompany him that you don't notice the way the other boys are leering at the both of you, the only thing stopping them from following behind being the revolver price has trained on them and the threat he'd told them earlier ("y'can listen all ya fuckin' want—but no peekin' in my tent unless y'want a fuckin' bullet between the eyes"). he would be all gentle and soft with you, easing your unused hole open with his tongue first before tenderly working you open on one, two, eventually three of his thick meaty fingers. he would kiss away the tears that begin to stream down your cheeks once he's got his thick cock stuffed inside of you (only after making you cum four times over), murmuring soft praises of just how good you feel, how sweet your cunt tasted, how tight you felt around him.

drifter!simon, on the other hand, definitely has a corruption kink. it all starts after your first night at camp, where simon was forced to lay in his bunk and stroke his fat cock to the sound of your broken mewls as price deflowered you. ever since then, he makes it his mission to corrupt you (much to price's dismay). when he gets you in his tent one night after dinnertime, he's not all soft and sweet the way price was. oh no—simon's filthy, pushing you face first into the pillows of his cot as he sinks to his knees and immediately spits a glob of saliva on your untouched hole. dirty words streaming from his lips as he bullies two thick fingers (much thicker and more rugged than price's) in your ass, smirking against the skin of the back of your thigh at the way your mewling whimpers sound more strained, filthy, debauched. you're a boneless mess against his cot, broken pleas for more dripping off your drooling tongue as you subconsciously squirm your hips back to take his fingers deeper. talking about how much of a slut you are for enjoying this treatment, cunt slick and dripping with arousal as he sinks in all the way to the hilt until his balls are flush to your drooling empty slit. he makes sure to leave marks, bruises that won't fade for days to come and imprints of his teeth that border on the edge of breaking skin—all so the other guys can see and know what you let him do to you.

it shouldn't come as much of a surprise that gunsmith!johnny has a gun kink. something about lapping messily at your cunt while your shaky hands fight to keep the muzzle of the gun pressed against his temple makes johnny's cock harder than a fucking rock. or bending you over the work bench in his tent after teaching you how to take apart his pistol, feeding his thick cock into you as he spits in your ear, “c’mon bunny—put it back together f’me. why’re you tremblin’? am i fuckin’ you that good right now?” or making you lay with your head dangling off the end of his cot, forcing your throat to swallow down his cock as he traces the muzzle of the gun around each of your puffy nipples before trailing it down to your slick cunt. he can’t help but chuckle at the way you start choking on his dick when he presses the barrel down hard against your throbbing clit, watching the way your body immediately bows and your hips buck up to find more friction. he likes the way he smears loose gunpowder and gun metal across your skin when you amble into his room once he’s finished making a new gun, chasing his dirtied thumbs with his tongue and lapping up the bitter substances from your sweet skin.

outlaw!kyle is such a giver. ik i usually talk about kyle and his overstimulation kink all the time, but outlaw!kyle literally lives and breathes to get you off. he’s so used to stealing and taking from others, his fingers sticky and grimy with the amount of things he’s looted or stolen, but he never takes from you (unlike the other outlaw!141 members). no, he lets you steal from him—wants you to take from him. absolutely loves it when you come to him all shy, thighs squeezing together beneath your skirts and fingers fidgeting with your blouse as you peer up at him with a wobbly lip and tell him how mean simon had been to you. and outlaw!kyle just clicks his tongue softly as he drags the tips of his fingers down your arms, lips frowning in faux sympathy as he pulls you towards his cot. “simon didn’t let you finish? left you high and dry, huh? s’okay, darlin’—shhh, shhh. i’ll take care of ya. come up here—sit on my face.” but little do you know he’s gonna have you up there for hours, not letting up until your slick and his spit are pooling along the cotton of his sheets and you can barely keep yourself upright. “thought you wanted to cum so bad, hon. why’re we stoppin’? i was just gettin’ started. c'mon—sit back down. don't make me force you.”

[kurosaaki]

THINKING ABOUT SOFT DOM!TOJI.

WARNINGS: smut—soft dom!toji, vaginal sex, big dick toji, creampie, unprotected sex, size kink (i guess?), praise, pet names (doll, baby, princess), use of ‘slut’ (twice), use of ‘bitch’ (once). this has absolutely no plot lol.

SUMMARY: toji is not known for being a gentle lover. but sometimes, once in a blue moon, it happens. the stars collide, the planets align and suddenly he’s treating you like his princess. don’t get too comfy tho, he’s still a bastard even in his softest moments.

TAGS: @driaswrld

A/N: my first jjk post ever ahhhh bye im doing cartwheels. reblogs are appreciated!

Toji's eyes softened as he watched the tiny tears welling in your eyes, realizing that the pleasure was almost too much for you to handle. He caressed your cheek gently, grazing your tears with his thumb.

"Shh, s’alright, doll," he whispered soothingly, his voice gentle and comforting. "I got ya. We can take it even slower…”

Toji began to withdraw, his movements feverishly slow and temptative, easing the pressure on your sensitive walls, making you feel a familiar warmness building up withing you.

His lips pressed against your forehead, his voice filled with reassurance. "Big breaths, doll. Feel it, let yourself adjust, baby. We don't have to rush…yeah, that’s it."

Toji wasn’t a very gentle lover when it came to sex. He was all about spanking, hair-pulling, light choking, hickeys, dirty talk…you name it. But once in a blue moon, he’d change his ways with you on the bed.

Tonight was one of those nights.

Shallow thrusts, small whimpers leaving your lips and his ragged breaths filling the room. Your wetness coating his cock, his balls sticking to your slick cunt with each thrust. It was all too good for you to not roll your eyes back in pleasure. He peppered soft kisses along your neck, his dark hair grazing your skin making you tickle.

You were in heaven.

“Toji— just like that, please…” You moan as he thrusts slowly, stretching your tight walls at a slow yet agonizing pace. Your legs locked around his waist, keeping him on a lock that’d drive him crazy as always.

“Like that, huh? Y’like this feeling, don’t ya?” he mumbles, “Being stretched up by me, gettin’ your pretty pussy pounded? Such a good slut. My good slut.”

You couldn’t help but let out small whimpers of pleasure, and his name slipping out of your lips like a prayer. It made him feel powerful. It made him feel like his only purpose was this— to make you drench in pleasure, to drive you over the edge of lustful insanity.

His lips curled into that well-known smirk of his as he listened to your pleas. He changed his pace, his thrusts slow and deliberate, relishing in the tightness of your walls, the way they clenched around him with each hard thrust.

He loved making you feel this way. He loved the feeling of your nails scratching his broad back—to see the marks the next morning—, he loved the way you arched your back as if to seek for more, he loved how you looked so tiny under the man he was.

He savored the feeling of your warmth enveloping him, the way you clenched around him like crazy in response to his movements.

His hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding your sensitive bundle of nerves. He circled it slowly, teasingly, intensifying the pleasure that you were feeling

"Tell me, princess," he murmured against your lips, his voice husky. "Does this feel good, huh?"

“Feels so good. So good, Toji—feel so full” you moan at both the feeling of his fingers circling your clit and him inside you, “Oh, Toji, right there!”

Oh, how he loved hearing that.

His fingers continued to circle your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to send jolts of pleasure through your body. He increased the pace of his thrusts, his movements becoming more intense as desire coiled tightly within him as well.

"That's it, baby," he growled, his voice filled with raw desire. "Feel me, all of me."

His hips met yours, each thrust hitting that sweet spot that made your toes curl and dig your nails deeper onto his back.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "You're so fucking sexy when you're like this, doll. Moaning my name, begging for more. Like a bitch in heat”

There he is. No matter how loving, how patient, how smooth or how gentle he tries to be, he still has that demon inside him. You can’t blame him— because you like it.

His movements grew more forceful, his thrusts becoming harder and faster as he chased his own release, and yours as well. You could feel the familiar tightness coiling in you, driving you closer to the edge, making your walls squeeze him.

“Holy fuck, doll!” he gritted between his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut and opening them again,“You’re squeezing me s’tight, damn it— I’m not gonna last long if ya keep it like that”

He gripped your hips firmly, his hands guiding your movements as your legs locked around his waist. His thrusts grew more relentless, hitting deeper and harder with each stroke.

“T-Tojiii,” you whined, squeezing your eyes shut as you bit your lip, “I’m gonna cum! “Please, please— cum inside me!” you whisper, almost breathless as your mind tries to form sentences.

As your legs shake, he holds you steady, ensuring that you're fully supported as you feel the waves of pleasure crashing down onto you.

It’s not long before he breaths in sharply, a small grunt coming out of his lips as he feels he’s letting go as well.

His forehead rests on your shoulder as he gives the last sloppy thrusts, breathing fast as he cums inside you—just like you asked him to.

For a moment, time stood still as the intensity of your orgasms consumed you both. He was still inside you, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he tried to regain his composture, at least.

He gathered you in his arms, pulling you close in a tender embrace. "You were incredible, princess" he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "So fucking good. But we’re not done yet— just gimme 5 minutes and i’ll show ya more” he said, chuckling to himself.

Oh, you were in for another sleepless night.

[gtgbabie0]

{Girlfriend!Vampire!Caitlyn who is addicted to the taste of your blood, nothing else will do}

I got freaky with it. #needthat. !!-18//MDNI-!!

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Caitlyn Kiramman was a woman of refined taste, down to each thread in her wardrobe to the blood she drinks— type B over A was her usual, then you made the mistake of letting her sink those pretty fangs of hers into your delicate neck… now you were sure she might just bleed you dry.

Honestly, it was your own fault, hair pinned up, pearls resting against your collarbones that were out on display thanks to the cut of your dress— oh the dress, don’t even get her started on the way the satin fabric moulded over your curves. Caitlyn remembers the night, how she kisses along your neck mumbling soft pleas into your skin. “Just a drop dear, please?” as she brushed her tongue over your pulse point, “I’ll be so gentle.”

Then from that day forward, she was completely and utterly hooked.

“Ah!— Mff’Cait, please be gentle.” You whine, fingers curling around her shoulders, trying to pry her away from your neck but she wouldn’t budge for love or money. It would take both Piltover and Zaun to get her to detach herself from you.

“m’sorry, sorry,” she mumbles, a lie, against your blood-slick neck, the warm liquid smudged against your skin— painted all over her chin and lips as her hand cups the back of your head, keeping you in place, fingers tangled in your hair. “Baby, you just taste so sweet.”

Her other hand had creeped up beneath your sleep shirt, cupping your breasts almost desperately as she licks a stripe up along the side of your neck in a feeble attempt to clean you up— but the two puncture holes that here stabbed over your pulse in the shape of her fangs kept oozing that delicious sanguine liquid, Caitlyn groans at the sight, the scent, it all makes her ache.

Then she’s shoving her face back into the crook of your neck, sucking at the two little wounds to collect a mouthful of your hot blood— the taste sends her mind into a heady spiral as she slowly swallows, eyes fluttering close as she feels the liquid slide down her throat. She presses her face further into you as if she was trying to swallow you whole, whimpering as she rocks her hips against you.

The apparent dampness of her lacy panties against your thigh makes you gasp ever so slightly, “Cait?— goodness, is this turning you on?” because it was definitely turning you on.

“What do you think?” She huffs, pressing soothing kisses against the irritated, bitten skin of your neck in a silent apology— half-assed because she’s back at it again not even seconds after, drinking from you almost desperately as she grinds down harder against your thigh.

Her hand makes a curious descent down your body, slipping in between your thighs to brush her fingertips against your underwear— the fabric slick with arousal and she smirks against your cheek, leaving blood stains.

“Oh— do you feel it too my sweet girl?” She coos so lovingly, pulling back only slightly to meet your half-lidded gaze— her hand moving to cup your jaw whilst her other continues to tease over the damp fabric of your panties. “Let me make it up to you, yeah?” a poor excuse to drink more from you hidden behind sultry words.

You take in the sight, her lips painted with your blood that was smeared all over her chin— she offers you a smirk, those pointed teeth glinting underneath the warm light of your bedside lamps as she runs her tongue along them. The throb in both your neck and in between your legs makes your skin tingle and you nod with a breathless, “Okay…” at this point you might just allow her to do anything to you.

“Mm, my good girl.” She giggles a sound that almost sweetens the situation as she trails kisses along your jaw, back down your neck and to her food source where she begins to feed once more on your crimson blood— her fingers slowly circling your clit whilst her hips rock against your thigh, desperate and wanting.

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these arcane women are turning me into a whore!

[madame-fear]

Brain rot of Jace practicing high valyrian on ur clit🫶🫶🫶🫶that’s it ily!!!!

꒰ 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐀 𝐒𝐋𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍 | 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄. ꒱

˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : request above. ♡ (I hope you enjoy this, nonnie, ilyt!!) ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 469.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : smut, drabble. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x (fem!)Reader

WARNING.ᐟ THIS FIC CONTAINS ; slight profanity, slight praising, cunnilingus/oral sex (f receiving).

→ click here if you want to request a drabble for my followers milestone celebration! drabbles open from February 14th, to March 1st.

“Ao sylutegon sīr sȳz,” (you taste so sweet.)

A reddish hue began forming on your thighs, along the marks of Jace’s fingers gripping them firmly, spreading your legs wide as his face was buried betweem your legs - his mouth overabusing your sensitive clit, as his fingers teasingly moved in and out of your entrance.

It had been a good idea, to tell Jace just how much you adored hearing him talk in High Valyrian. Perhaps he wasn’t yet properly good at it, but you were still delighted in having him practice with you. And what better idea he had, than to practice High Valyrian and eat you out all at once? Not only it was something that pleasured him, but overall it was a different type of experience that he knew you’d enjoy; and the eldest Velaryon was right.

“Fuck,” with soft pleas that escaped continously from your partly open lips, your hand found it’s way to his brunette hair, interwining your fingers on several strands and unconsciously burying his head deeper into your moist, stimulated pussy; moving your hips forwards to give him better access. “Iksā iā olvie sȳz riña, issi ao daor?” (you are such a good girl, aren’t you?) a proud grin grew at the corner of his plump lips, feeling his panting breath hit against your nub, increasing the speed of his fingers fucking you.

Wetness oozed from your cunt, coating his fingers, as his mouth occasionally drank from your own cum. “Kesan qogralbar ao tolvie tubis hae bisa, issa jorrāelagon.” (I will fuck you everyday just like this, my love). Your fingers gripped desperately from his hair, as his tongue flicked ravenously on your slick-coated folds, until his mouth found his way to nibble on your clit once again. A loud groan escaped deep from your throat, throwing your head back as a knot formed on your stomach, anticipating your release.

Briefly, his coffee eyes moved to stare at your expressions, taking pride in himself for how ruined he managed to get you - having you panting and begging for more. “Keep... Keep going,” you weakly encouraged, barely being able to form a coherent sentence, at the feeling of him stopping for a few seconds. He scoffed, widely grinning, as he lowered his face one again, placing gentle pecks all over your folds and slowly moving his fingers inside of you. “Ao hae ziry skori gaoman ziry hae bisa, gaomagon ao daor?” (you like it when I do it like this, don’t you?) he muttered, using his tongue to lap at your own fluids, that violently flowed out of you.

“Kostan hae sȳrī gaomagon bisa tolī jēdi lēda ao,” (I might as well do this more often with you), the eldest Velaryon whispered against your edging cunt, “Eminna jeme bantis mirre syt nyke, issa dōna.”

♡ taglist : ♡

@damatheirin @jacesvelaryons @capellaadara @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @mstxdes @valeriecash @cookielovesbook-akie @zzz000eee @bellarkeselection @feliuuuksks @visenya-reigned @maria699669 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @sweethoneyblossom1 @jamiemydeer @snowprincesa1

[rillian4e]

Bad girls get punished or?

ft& Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Alhaitham, Scaramouche, Jing Yuan, IL Dan Heng

cw: nsfw, fem!reader, rough sex, pet names, praise kink, foul language, spanking, chocking, thigh riding, marking, breeding, degradation, teasing etc...

summary: you've been feeling neglected, and acting bratty towards your boyfriend which lead to him putting you in your place.

Neuvillette: riding, spanking, pet names

Neuvillette was fed up with your behaviour, he was trying to work, but you just had to sit and grind onto his lap, he had already told you to stay quiet while he finished some paperwork, and he would reward you but you didn't have any patience for that, instead giving into your desires which resulted in punishment.

Having you bent over his desk as he spanked your cute little butt, "Ow..! That hurts... Be more gentle!" you whined, feeling his big hand slap at your skin once again, there would be red marks for days surely, despite how it felt painful—you secretly enjoyed it, feeling more aroused than ever to have him punish you like this. Neuvillette could tell you were enjoying it, making him sigh, he was too forgiving at times like these, placing you to then ride his lap, wiping your tears away, "You're such a bad girl, cherié, I won't punish you any more, instead you'll have to ride me."

He muttered, looking at you before placing a gentle kiss on your cheek, "If you end up not needing my help, then I'll reward you by fucking you nice and full, what do you think, hm?"

You smiled delighted when you heard his words, he really was too forgiving towards you, but you knew that he would be the opposite when you get your reward, always making sure you're satisfied.

Wriothesley: cockwarming, rough sex, manhandling

While you were needy and horny, your lover was busy, having to handle some affair within the Fortress of Meropide. It didn't help that you wanted him so badly, you went ahead and visited him, only to find him buried with paperwork as he sipped his favorite tea. Wriothesley was used to your neediness, often indulging your desired as he missed the warmth of your cunt enveloping him as much as you too did, but he could just abandon all of his work, it was the busiest around this time period for the duke.

Even as you wore your pretty little skirt and top, he didn't give in to your pleas instead having you cockwarm him, "Mm...stay still, love. Just a few more hours, and I'll give you what you want."

you felt better when you heard his words but "a few more hours", was he crazy?! No way would you be able to wait that long, not when his cock was buried so deep inside your aching core—it was so hard to resist the temptation of rolling your hips and fucking yourself on his shaft. you tried your best to stay good, nuzzling his neck, but when you felt his hand rub your thigh up and down... you couldn't do it. instead lifting yourself up and then sinking onto his cock, the sensation making you moan, albeit it was a quick relief as Wriothesley then pulled you off his lap, clearly that was his last straw.

"You're not getting out of this, sweetheart. You know, I adore when you're being a brat, but it's time to punish you a little, turn around." ah...you fucked up.

you gulped before doing as told, without waiting any longer, Wriothesley pushed his cock inside your cunt, immediately picking up a relentless pace without giving you a moment to catch your breath.

Wriothesley made sure to fuck his seed deep into you, hopefully that would satiate you for some time, you had to leave his office with his cum dripping out of you cunt, you were praying that it wouldn't drip down your legs.

Alhaitham: soft Alhaitham, praise, pet names, comfort

The scribe was not pleased with your behaviour, he was trying to read his book in peace when you came, all flustered and begging Alhaitham to fuck you in the House of Daena, where plenty of other scholars are, yeah, he of course refused, it was a risk, and he wanted to read his book. you couldn't get yourself off, it's been far too long since you last had any Intimacy with Alhaitham due to how busy he'd gotten, and in his little free time, he always reads books which doesn't help that he isn't spending time with you. You were rambling on and on, but no use, Alhaitham wasn't budging.

You didn't understand why he was being eo mean, so cold, he didn't didn't wanna give you a kiss, you didn't even realize that you were crying when Alhaitham pulled you into a hug, a large hand patting your back in comforting circles, "Hush, don't cry, princess... I was being too harsh on you, it's just that I've been overwhelmed and stressed, but that's not an excuse, c'mere." Quickly he placed you to straddle his lap, stroking your cheek tenderly, "I'm very sorry, my love, please forgive me."

He resorted on making it up to you, bringing you home, and making the whole night about you two, his fat cock stretching your cunt as he peppered kisses all over your face and neck, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, a contrast to the way he was slamming desperately into your hole, he only then realized how much he had missed you.

"Such a good girl... My sweet, sweet girl, taking me so well, I'm proud of you..." He'd whisper into your ear, his hand rubbing tight circles on your clit, his sweet words only fueling your desires to be fucked dumb by him which he fulfilled.

Scaramouche: manhandling, foul language, use of pet names

Punishment is his favorite when you're being a brat, this was no exception. Who did you think you were, trying to make him jealous by flirting with other men? The moment you were home, Scaramouche had you in mating press—his length filling your womb to the brim, he knew you wanted this to happen, your gummy walls only clenching more around him at his harsh and degrading words.

"Did you think you successed, hm? Trying to make me jealous by giving other men your attention? Look at you, acting like a bitch in heat." he muttered, one of his hands squeezing your throat, putting firm pressure, enough for it to feel uncomfortable.

His rough pace only continuing till you cannot take it anymore, your legs trembling from the overwhelming pleasure and stimulation, Scaramouche feels no mercy for you, focusing on his pleasure and teaching you a lesson. "Did you seriously think anyone other than me could fuck you this good?" He asked, looking down at you, his eyes betraying no emotion, only gazing at you as if you're some pathetic worm.

"Answer me, slut." his grip on your throat tightened, you cried out, shaking your head, "N-No...only you! Only you...can f-fuck me this good..!" was the best you could speak out, hoping it was enough for him to forgive you.

Jing Yuan: thigh riding, praise, pet names

He was busy with paperwork, being a general wasn't easy, it meant that he would be busy most of the time which you understood when you became his lover, but that didn't mean you weren't desperate for his affection. Jing Yuan would only tell you to wait and be patient, pressing kisses on your head, it didn't help that you were horny for him. He didn't like the way you were trying to dry hump him, wanting to feel that much needed friction against your dripping core. "What did I tell you, sweetheart? To wait, did I not?"

He sighed as you tried your best to give him puppy eyes to make him cave in, when he saw you disobey his words once again, he gripped your waist,

"Mm...you're being a very needy thing today, I won't be giving in today, though."

he exclaimed, giving you a kiss on the lips before he had you rub yourself on his thigh, having to get yourself off alone, it frustrated you but it was better than nothing. You did like riding his thigh, but you wished he would just fuck you or at least let you ride his cock—you so badly needed his thick length inside your hole, the more you rubbed your clothed cunt against his thigh, the more you wished he'd help you, a small wet patch was already growing on your underwear.

Jing Yuan wrapped his hand around your waist, supporting you while his other scribbled on his paperwork. You were getting desperate to cum, moans escaping you as you rode his thigh with the desire to reach your climax.

"Close, my love? You're ruining my pants, such a messy girl." a low chuckle escaped his lips, taking his eyes off his paperwork to give you a little of his attention. His hands gripped your thighs as he lifted you up and down hard on his thigh.

Even though he only let you ride his thigh, it would suffice as long as he was the one helping you, it was a whole another feeling when he helped you.

IL Dan Heng: vaginal sex, edging, teasing, mean Dan Heng

You have been trying to tease your lover for the past few hours, playing with his sensitive horns which you knew was the easiest way to get his attention. Rubbing the ridges with gentle motions before pressing kisses on both of his horns, Dan Heng loved when you gave attention to his horns, but he was trying to read his book, not have you make him aroused. His attempts at making you stop failed, though. After having enough of you being a brat, his tail wrapped around your waist, eliciting a reaction out of you—was he finally gonna give in?

"You're too greedy, love. I was busy, and I would have made time for you, but not if you keep acting like a brat."

You thought he would give in, he always did after all, and he did. His cock was inside you, hitting all the right spots, it had you seeing stars. Dan Heng really is too kind is what you thought before he told you that you can't cum.

"I'm not giving you permission to cum, princess. That's your punishment, besides isn't this what you wanted, for me to fuck you stupid?"

Was he being for real? you were so close, yes, you did want him to fuck you, he was right about that but you wanted to cum, not have to be edged when you were so desperate to have an orgasm. nevertheless you did as you were told, having him cum inside you made you feel slightly better, albeit you wanted to come too.

You knew you were at fault and that this was your punishment for not listening, he did mention letting you cum if you were good enough, maybe he will feel sorry for you and let you, who knows.

[chrissv4mp]

𐙚 STAY QUIET (scenario 1)

she hummed lowly into your ear, eyes closed, chin resting on your bare shoulder. her soft, plump lips left a trail of kisses from your shoulder to just below your earlobe, the vibrations from her humming coursing right through your veins. you shivered, hands gripping at her thighs, a thin layer of cloth preventing you from fully feeling her warmth and making you whine out loud.

"nah-uh," billie shook her head, nipping softly at your earlobe in a silent warning. her fingers stroked between your folds so delicately, the tips of her digits gathering the wetness that collected there. you let your head fall back against her own shoulder, eyes barely open, lips parted slightly. a hand wrapped around your throat slowly, gently, cold rings making you shiver, "y'like that, don't you?" she murmurs, licking her lips once she pulled away from your skin.

you couldn't do anything but nod according to the rules she set whenever you began this torturous game she played every night of her tour. which brought you back to the way she squeezed your throat, making you gasp for air before she loosened her grip. her sexy chuckle echoed in your mind as her strokes on your pussy began to speed up, resulting in your moans becoming harder and harder to hold back. you quivered beneath her hand, breathing in and out roughly.

"y'did so good at the show, mama..." you swallowed harshly, throat dry and pussy only growing wetter with each passing second, "where'd my good girl go?" she scolds softly, voice so gentle and calming—like she didn't have you in the most panicked state right now. in a lame attempt to speak, you let out a breathy moan, walls clenching around nothing as your nails dig into the thin fabric of her shorts. billie just shook her head again, squeezing your throat once more, "guess she's not here 'nymore."

your hips bucked against her ring-clad fingers, huffing as quietly as you could as you tried to get her to slip into you. but she just wouldn't. the hand on your neck only squeezed tighter in another warning, a cheeky smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she landed a soft slap on your pussy, "stop that, will ya?" it wasn't an ask, she was demanding you, and you knew. but you were so close to release, and your hips seemed to have a mind of their own in that moment, "plea—bill, please." you breathe, free hand coming up to grip at her hair as you inched closer to that edge.

"shut that pretty 'lil mouth of yours, then..." she went silent, pretending to forget what she was gonna say. she always stalled, and you hated it. she releases her grip on your neck, groaning roughly as you gave her hair a tug. her hat had fallen in the process of you gripping at her brunette strands, trapped in between the wall and couch of her tour bus, "maybe—jus' maybe you'll get it." she promised, lips coming back down to your shoulder as she continued to speak, "gotta stay quiet f'me, that's all. 'ts not that hard."

her touch leaves for what feels like an eternity as she takes her rings off one by one, her pace painfully slow to watch. you fight back a whine as you hear her rings clink against each other on the small table beside your bodies, but when her fingers are back, it feels impossible not to make a sound. she slowly urges three of her fingers into your tight pussy at once, raising her eyebrows and dragging out her words, "thereee ya go." the stretch brings tears to your eyes, a quiet cry escaping your throat as you feel the pads of her fingers brush against your warm, tight walls.

it only takes a few seconds for billie to go wild, her chest tightening with the urge to just completely destroy your pussy. so, she gives into it, her fingers beginning to pound into you at a fast pace, groaning quietly at the wet, sloshing sound that fills the entire bus. you choke on your moans as she curls all three of her digits, eyes feeling like they'd roll to the back of your head as she litters kisses all across your neck and shoulder, "can't even follow simple instructions." she tsks, shaking her head in disapproval as she feels your walls clenching around her, "such a noisy little thing."

𐙚 amiyaps — never getting over the fact that i took this picture??? HELLO???

𐙚 tags — @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @afteraftercare @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @stonerfromlesbos @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @hopelessfawn @zayluvss @meliciousmel13

[amongemeraldclouds]

coming undone

Where Mattheo fucks away your insecurities with his mouth. Based on this request.

Mattheo Riddle x f!Reader

Warning: smut, 18+ mdni, oral (f!receiving), established relationship, characters are aged up, plus sized reader

a/n: thank you dearly to my beloved wifeyy @pizzaapeteer for proofreading and helping with pics.

Masterlist | Mattheo Riddle Masterlist | 605 words

“P-please, Matty” soft pleas escaped your lips, your fingers tangled in his curls as you held on to the last strands of your sanity, “need to cum.” Your shallow breaths mingled with the sloppy sounds of Mattheo’s mouth feasting on your needy cunt.

All night he worshipped you with soft kisses, long licks, and slow suctions that sent you right at the edge of the cliff, eager to surrender to the euphoric waves below, but not quite getting the final push you needed.

You tugged at his hair harder and bucked your hips when he ignored you, letting your body speak for you. A chuckle escaped his lips, “oh I’m sorry, your beautiful thighs were covering my ears pretty girl, say it again.” You groaned in frustration and his fingers replaced his mouth, rubbing slow circles around your clit. He stared at you with wild eyes, his face glistening with your slick. You were going to have to beg for it.

“I need to cum, please Matty,” you tried again and squirmed when he gently slapped your dripping pussy. Your soft whimpers filled the air and he spoke, “my pretty girl thinks she can get what she wants when she hasn’t learned her lesson yet?” There was a sharp edge to his voice that pierced through your nerves. “What did I tell you about putting yourself down?”

You closed your eyes and recalled your tears from earlier when you spilled your insecurities to Mattheo and he said he knew how to make you feel better. The pleasure made your toes curl and kept you lightheaded, but you tried to focus and recall what he told you earlier. “M-my body is beautiful.”

“And?” Mattheo pressed on, fingers moving around your sensitive spots, sending sparks of pleasures all the way down your toes.

You took in a deep breath and committed his words to memory, a vow he was desperate to carve through the depths of your soul, if that’s what it took for you to see what he saw. Breathtaking curves, thighs he could get lost in for days, and the tender softness of your flesh. “My body is beautiful and every inch of me is loveable.”

“That’s right,” he flashed you a wicked grin. “Now keep chanting that and you’ll be rewarded. Will you be a good girl for me?”

You nodded, repeating the words. Heat swelled deep in your core and you arched your back as Mattheo entered you with his fingers, coaxing your release. He sucked at your clit the way you liked it, alternating with his tongue and lips. The words rang through you until the final stroke pushed you off the edge, plunging straight into ecstasy, turning you into a moaning mess. Pleasure coursed through you in waves as you shook, walls fluttering against Mattheo’s playful fingers.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he encouraged as you gave him everything you had.

When you came down from your high, Mattheo leaned over you and planted a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Your body is beautiful and every inch of you is loveable,” he repeated once again as sincere eyes gazed into you. He’d never let you forget.

You smiled back at him, at the boy who always dived headfirst into reckless danger with his signature smirk. Yet here he was, sweet and gentle for you. “How did I get so lucky?” you wondered aloud.

“Oh, you won’t be thinking that soon when I have you begging for me again,” he said as he unbuckled his trousers. “Didn’t think we were done yet, love? We’ve got the rest of the night ahead of us.”

Masterlist | Mattheo Riddle Masterlist

[awesumsaus]

pretty when I cry

wc: 6k

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: what was meant to be a slow relaxing morning after a night out with joel turns into something much more.

a/n: so I’ve been trying to work out the rest of my tlou series but couldn’t get this idea out of my head. it’s entirely self-indulgent, absolute filth, literally inspired by porn (but with feelings). pls skip if you’re not comfortable with anything outlined in the warnings/tags, otherwise hope y’all enjoy :] (and if anyone has any interest in a part two lmk bc I may or may not have some ideas lolol)

warnings/tags: explicit 18+ (minors dni), no outbreak au, softdom!joel, smut with a hint of plot, established relationship, age gap, reader is described as small/little but also curvy, hints of possessive!joel, daddy kink, almost dd/lg dynamics, subspace, oral (f receiving), slight somnophilia (very consensual), size kink, dirty talk, so many petnames (baby, honey, pretty girl, little girl), painful sex but Joel is a consent king, aftercare, fingering, *cough* butt stuff *cough*, unprotected pinv, squirting, barely proofread sorry

It wasn’t uncommon, for you to wake up like this, Joel’s head of salt and pepper curls dipped below the covers, his mouth eagerly pulling an orgasm from your pliant body. So it comes as no surprise when you’re roused awake by the sound of your own whines and whimpers, slipping through your lips like soft little pleas. Your tired eyes shift to the top of his head, the sheets bunched at his wide shoulders, leaving you bare and exposed to the cool morning breeze blowing through the open bedroom window. 

He works in slow languid movements, yet he has you gushing around his tongue nonetheless, his mouth warm and wet against your dripping sex, still soft and swollen from the previous night’s activities. You’d fallen asleep, damp and sticky, only after he’d pounded you into his mattress until the early hours of the morning. 

Upon waking, the feeling of his cum still dripping out of you, legs wrapped around one of his dense thighs, it drove him positively insane. It didn’t matter how peacefully asleep you were, how steadily you drew breaths between your plush lips, he had to have you the moment his eyes set on you.  

He senses you’re awake when your fingers delicately twist through the curls at the crown of his head. He hums contentedly against you, the vibrations making your eyes fall closed once more as wanting sounds slip past your lips. You’d never been one for religion, but seeing Joel for the past several months has you questioning everything. The way his mouth moves against your pulsing core leaves you with no choice but to believe in some higher power, some celestial being that deemed you lucky enough to allow a man like Joel into your life.

He pulls away from your messy cunt and you whine at the loss. Your glossed over eyes meeting his with pupils blown wide. “Mornin’ pretty girl,” he says, his voice gruff and his lips shining with your slick. The sight sends another wave of warmth straight to your core. 

“Hi,” you say, tone gentle and weary with sleep. A timid smile spreads across your lips as you run a hand through his scruff. No matter how many times you wake up next to him, how many times he fucks you senseless, you always manage to grow shy under his salacious stare. 

He plants a fleeting kiss to your clit and you shudder, you can feel him smirk even as your gaze shifts to the ceiling above you. Your hand unknowingly grips his hair tighter and urges him towards where you need him most, not even noticing your own action until you hear Joel let out an amused chuckle. 

“So needy for me, huh baby?” He runs a hand from your thigh over the curve of your hip, his touch featherlight over the certain spot by your hipbone that he knows drives you wild. His fingers end splayed across your lower belly, his thumb rubbing small circles into your skin. 

“Always need you, daddy,” you say, only slightly above a whisper, a small buck of your hips to get your point across. The petname has his already half hard cock twitching against the sheets, his other hand instinctively squeezes the flesh of your hip. 

With no warning, his lips are on you again, his pace now fast and increasingly sloppy. He eats at you like a man starved, his curved nose rubbing against your clit with each of his movements. The intensity of it all makes your head spin and your cunt clench around nothing. A ghosting pain lingers in your lower half, another reminder of the evening prior. 

The two of you had gone out, like you often did on Friday nights, deciding on a new spot downtown. Joel was hesitant at first, having heard it was more popular with the younger crowd, more catered to people your age. But he’d learned early in your relationship that saying no to you was nearly impossible, with your big doe eyes and sweet pleading smiles, he rarely had it in him to deny anything your little heart desired. 

But God, the little black dress you wore nearly had him throwing you over his shoulder and locking you away in his bedroom for only his eyes to ever behold. Joel would never admit to being the possessive type. He knew what other men saw in you, wide eyed and sweet, kind beyond reason, with a gorgeous smile and beautiful curves. He saw the way they’d look at you, saw the way their eyes followed your perfect form, like predators stalking their prey.

He would never admit to being the possessive type, but his incessant grip around your waist in every public space and the death glares he’d send any man that looked your way proved otherwise. And despite your attempts to dissuade his arrogance, there was a part of you that craved to be claimed, to be marked as his. 

The week had been long and draining. Your overbearing boss forced you to work overtime into the late hours of the evening nearly every night, and with Joel’s days often starting as early as 5am, he was usually sound asleep by the time you’d managed to feed yourself and drag your exhausted corpse to bed. 

To no fault of his own, Joel hadn’t paid much attention to you this week, leaving you feeling neglected and irritated despite his generally relentless attentiveness towards you. And so you decided to toy with him, always testing his limits and seeing how far you can go before he snaps. You wouldn’t admit it, but you kinda liked him a little angry. 

And boy was it easy to get a rise out of him, especially dressed the way you were, your ass only just covered and your tits spilling over the tight corset-like top of your dress. You had his blood boiling before the two of you even left his house. When you finally walked through the bar entrance, Joel was like a guard dog, his arm wrapped tightly around your lower waist, a permanent scowl imprinted on his face towards the many male bar goers that ogled you. He had you tucked so close to his body you were nearly tripping over his feet with each of your steps. 

After your first drink you were feeling antsy, and a bit too bold for you own good, and so you flirted with them, boys you had not a single shred of interest in, laughed at their jokes and accepted their offers to buy you drinks, all the while glancing back at Joel, biting your lip, trying not to giggle at his grimace and the way redness began spreading up his neck. You’d retreat back to your table, to Joel, prizes in hand, and feign innocence when he’d question what you were up to. 

“What do y’ think you’re doin’,” he questioned after you had slipped away to the bar a second time under the guise of needing to use the restroom. You padded up to him, slotting yourself between his thighs, twirling the straw in your drink between your fingers. Even sitting on the barstool he towered over you. 

“Nothin’, daddy.” You looked up at him through your lashes, knowing fully well what your words did to him. You brought the hand that wasn’t holding your drink to his upper thigh, you could feel the muscle tense as you slid your way up, up, up. 

“Watch it, little girl.“ He grabbed your wrist, hard. You instinctively tried to pull away, but his grip was firm. He jerked you towards him, your chests nearly touching before bringing your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly, a stark contrast to the death grip he still had on your wrist. 

His voice was low, a sign of warning. “F’ you want somethin’ from me, all you gotta do is ask, darlin’.” 

You huffed and pouted slightly when he released you, ignoring the fact that your actions resembled those of a petulant child. Despite knowing that he would give you anything you asked of him, having proved it to you countless times over the course of your relationship, the neglected feeling in your chest grew. You didn’t want to ask, sick of making decisions and telling others what to do after the week you’d had. You wanted him to take. 

It was after your third disappearance, this time to actually use the restroom, that Joel snapped. Passing by the bar, one of the young men that bought you a drink attempted to stop you in your tracks. You didn’t pay him much attention, just smiled and nodded at his words, quietly trying to slip by. But then his hands were on you, grabbing your waist in a way that made your stomach turn. You hadn’t even had time to register a response, to push him away and run back to Joel, before his hands were leaving your body and being replaced by much larger ones, rough and calloused. Joel’s hands. 

“We’re leaving, now,” he grunted, pulling you by the back of your arm towards the exit. It was only after he’d practically thrown you into the passenger’s seat of his truck that you knew you were in for it. 

You’d barely made it to the front door before he was ripping the fabric of your little black dress from your body, letting the torn pieces fall to the floor. Immediately you’d attempted to scold him, it was one of your favorites, but couldn’t get a word in before he was throwing your bare body over his shoulder and carrying you to his bedroom, promising he’d buy you as many dresses as you wanted if you’d shut up and let him have his way with you, let him fuck you stupid, until the only thoughts going through your head were Joel, Joel, Joel.

He spent the following hours relentlessly pulling orgasm after orgasm from your pliable body, impaling you on his thick cock until hot tears streamed down your cheeks. 

“I know, baby,” he said from his place behind you, your limp whimpering form draped across the edge of the bed. “Just needed to be reminded who you belong to, huh?” His voice was mocking, but with a certain sincerity that made your cunt clench even harder around him. 

“Yours, daddy,” was all you could manage before you came around his cock for what felt like the hundredth time that night. 

Needless to say you were feeling extra sensitive this morning, Joel was hyper aware of this fact, yet the feeling of his tongue repeatedly diving into your abused hole had you begging for more. “Need you inside,” you say despite the hurt. Joel holds back a groan at your pleas, needy little thing. He pulls away just slightly to meet your gaze, his breath still hot against your core. 

“Not gonna put my cock in you, honey.” The finality in his voice makes your heart drop and tears prick in the corners of your eyes. You were always like this in the mornings, he had come to notice, sensitive, soft, often emotionally even more so than physically. Joel had always been an assured man, never impulsive or reckless in his actions, always thoughtful and never selfish. But with you he’d learned patience. He’d learned to hold your emotions in the palm of his hand with a certain gentleness he never knew himself capable of. He’d learned you often needed more time than most to become placid, to settle, and so it became almost a sense of his, knowing when to take and when to give, even when you weren’t sure yourself.  

“Please-“ you whine, tears in your voice. His big brown eyes soften when they meet yours, his resolve slipping only momentarily while he moves to kiss the inside of each of your thighs. 

“Not gonna convince me, baby.” he tuts. “Can’t take me yet.” He moves higher, nuzzles into the soft skin above your clit. You let out a small gasp when he starts sucking harshly, surely leaving a bruise, a mark that only he will ever see. 

“I can. I promise.” You wriggle in his hold, feel your wetness drip onto the sheets. He nips the spot and pulls away. 

“Quit.” He pins your hips harder, his eyes meeting yours once more. “Maybe if you hadn’t been such a goddamn tease last night I wouldn’t’ve had to wreck this perfect little pussy.” He runs a finger through your folds as he says it and you tense slightly. He raises an eyebrow at you, an I told you so look, you huff in frustration, yet you relax in his hold. 

“You ready to be good f’ me, baby?” His voice seeps through your ears like honey, your mind beginning to wander to that all too familiar headspace you often turned to in these moments. You nod your head, eyes hooded. Joel senses the shift. “You’re gonna take whatever daddy gives you yeah?”

“Yes,” you gasp as you feel just the tip of his index finger probe your dripping hole, Joel gauging your response. 

“N’ then what d’ you say?” He twists his finger inside you and pushes in just to his first knuckle, the stretch already intense given your increased sensitivity. 

“Thank you, daddy,” you sigh, not a single shred of fight left in you. A devilish smirk spreads across his face. 

“Good girl.”

His hands are on the backs of both your thighs, hiking your legs up so that they’re pressed firmly against your chest, your glistening folds on full display. You shiver as the cool morning air hits where you’re most vulnerable. He then pushes your knees apart, situating himself so that his mouth is only inches from your core while still holding you in place, your legs spread obscenely wide to accommodate the breadth of his shoulders. 

He spits directly on your clit and watches as it drips down your cunt, combining with the mess of wet already there. It’s entirely unnecessary, but it’s how Joel likes you, filthy with his cum and spit and your own slick. You tremble as he smooths his hand over your mound, his undivided attention on the mess he’s creating. When he’s satisfied, the pad of his thumb finds your clit, rubbing small circles into the bundle of nerves, making your hips buck once more.

He pauses his movements, his eyes dark and entirely void of any sense of leniency. “Not gonna tell you again.” A tear pools in your lower lashes at the loss of his touch, your breathing goes shaky. 

“So pretty when you cry f’ me, honey,” his tone mocking. “Almost as pretty as when you come for me.”

His mouth is back on you, even more ravening and unrelenting than before. You have to bite down on your pillow to prevent yourself from screaming when his lips wrap around your clit, sucking the sensitive bud into his warm mouth. Every cell in your body is screaming for his touch, needing more, more, more. You want to be enveloped by him by not just his mouth, but every part of him. You have the sudden desire to crawl under his skin, make a home for yourself there, where all you can ever feel is him, him, him. 

The peaceful sound of birds chirping outside the window is drowned out by your cries and the pornographic squelches of your wet sex. Your vision blurs as his tongue plunges in and out of you. 

“Taste so fucking good, baby,” he pulls away for only a second, his eyes not leaving your center as he anchors his thick arms under your ass and thighs, bringing your cunt impossibly closer to his eager mouth.  

Joel knows your body, knows what every twitch and minor shift means, how your breathing quickens when he’s brought you right to the edge, the sounds you make when you’ve completely given in, forfeited all control. And he senses it, when his thumb presses against the cleft of your ass, and a moan slips from deep within your throat, that he’s uncovered something, something that makes his cock twitch and drip onto the sheets below him. 

He pulls away quick, too quick, and your face burns, the fleeting sensation prompting a new surge of desire in the pit of your stomach. The feeling was foreign, a bit startling, but in a way that left you longing for more. If you were to trust anyone to delve into this part of yourself, this uncharted territory, it would be Joel. It would always be Joel. He knew how to take care of you better than any man you’d ever known. With him you were safe, you were heard, cherished and adored. With him there was no emotion too big or too small, no desire left unsated. 

“Joel-“ you breath. “Joel, baby. I want-“

He pulls away from you, a knowing look in his glassed over eyes. “What is it, honey? What d’ you want?”

He can’t help himself and licks a long strip from your asshole to your clit, moaning at the taste. “Fuck- Joel,” you cry out, a drop of sweat falling to your forehead. “Want- want your fingers.”

“Where d’ you want my fingers, baby.” He says it more like a command than a question, but you can’t respond, your head falling back as he starts lapping at your clit. “You want them in this sweet little cunt?” He prods one of his thick fingers at your opening, but quickly pulls away, leaving you clenching around nothing. 

You bite your lip, eyes hooded. “Mm,” you shake your head. His eyes are nearly black now, something unhinged, sinful behind his gaze. He knows what you want, the seed already planted in his insatiable brain, but he wasn’t going to give in to your pleads that easily. 

“Dirty girl.” His voice has dropped an octave. “Tell me what you want.”

“Please, daddy” you squirm, tears pooling at your waterline, threatening to fall at any second. His hardened grip on your hips softens for a moment before he’s turning his head and biting the inside of your thigh, hard. You gasp, a tear rolls down your cheek. “Use your words.”

“I wan- I-I don’t-,” you babble, the tears now flowing freely, leaving wet trails down your cheeks. He lets you choke on your words for a moment, not once tearing his eyes away from yours. 

“Oh honey, I know s’ hard,” he soothes, sliding his hand along the curve of your ass. Your tears slow. “S’okay. Daddy’s gonna give you what you need. No more cryin’.”

You sniffle, a small smile spreading across your face at his words. You always had a way of making him cave.

His expression goes serious for a moment. “What’s your safe word?” Red. “And you’ll use it if you want me to stop?” Mhm. “Repeat it.” His commanding tone sends a chill down your spine. “If I want you to stop, I’ll say red,” you say softly and run a hand through his curls, wet with a mixture of your sweat and his own. 

“Fuck, baby. Gonna make you feel so good,” he says more to himself than you. Your brain turns to absolute mush when his mouth meets your skin once again. 

Even with his head between your legs, even when he’s on his knees for you, he’s the one in charge, the one that dictates your every move. How your body twists and bends to his will. He decides when you get to cum, decides when you’ve earned it. And there’s a certain feeling that comes with it, this loss of autonomy, a sense of ease and security created by a total loss of control. No other man you’ve been with has understood, most of them only seeking to fulfill their own selfish wants. But Joel knows, having understood this unfamiliar part of you almost as soon as the two of you met, knowing exactly how to satiate that little corner of your brain that craves submission. 

You suck in a sharp breath when you feel his calloused thumb return to your tight hole, tensing a bit when he adds more pressure. 

“Relax, baby.” And you do, your muscles go lax almost immediately and the furrow in your brow softens. You exhale a moan as he begins kissing your cunt, avoiding your most sensitive areas so that he can keep you focused on the feeling of his thumb pushing into you. 

“Fu- fuck, Joel!” You basically shriek when the tip of his thumb breeches the ring of muscle, it’s already all consuming, already so full.

He retracts his thumb and you let out a choked sound before he brings his thick finger to your wetness, gathering slick on the pad of his thumb before resuming his unrushed stretching of your virgin hole. 

“More ngh- please.” He prods you painfully slow, assessing your every reaction as his knuckle plunges into you. 

“Uh-uh. Don’t care how nice n’ polite you ask, baby. Not gonna ruin this little hole.” He plants wet kisses along your seam. “Not yet,” he says almost inaudibly against your mound before devouring you once more. The promise of more makes something in your brain snap, all the shyness and trepidations from before gone in one fleeting moment. 

He stretches you slowly, the speed of his mouth quickening and his thumb beginning to slide more easily in and out of you. You’re entirely lost in the feeling, completely overwhelmed by the pressure and the speed of his tongue on your clit. You cry out when he removes his thumb, replacing it with his middle finger, and dipping his freed digit into your cunt, completely overcome, overstimulated in the best way. 

It’s too much, but not enough. But no, it’s too much. He’s everywhere, in your cunt, your ass, your head. All you can think is how anything in life could ever feel this good. How anyone can be this good, this knowing of your every want, every need. The thought makes tears pinch at the corner of your eyes. 

His gaze is fixed on you, every twitch, every shift. He nearly comes at the sight of you grinding down on his fingers. That’s it baby, fuck yourself on my fingers. His movements slow, your orgasm begins to fade and you whine. You’re not even thinking when you bring your delicate fingers to your clit and trace small circles against the bundle of nerves. Joel immediately grabs your hand and pins it to your lower stomach, nearly growling against your skin. Any other time he’d have you bent over his knee for not asking permission, but he’s so drunk on you, so dead-set on making you come apart, he lets this one slide. 

“Need t’ come so bad, huh baby?” You nod your head furiously, a few more tears slipping down your cheeks. “Go ‘head n’ ask for it then, baby. Nice n’ polite like I know you can.”

“Please daddy, please let me come.” You barely register the words falling from your mouth, but the proud look on Joel’s face tells you all you need to know.

It doesn’t take much to send you over the edge. He sucks harshly on your clit, pulling it into his mouth, while his thick fingers work each of your holes. His hand holding yours presses harder, harder, harder until the tension snaps and you’re screaming, sobbing out as you gush around him, soaking his scruff to the point that your slick drips from his chin and onto the already drenched sheets. He works you through it, curling his fingers into your cunt so that another warm stream of slick hits his tongue. And he takes, not letting a single drop go to waste as he laps at you. 

Your head is still buzzing when he finally ceases his movements, the shockwaves of your orgasm still flowing through you making your whole body shake. Your muscles convulse as he slowly pulls his fingers from your core. 

With blurred vision you watch him stand at the end of the bed, his cock painfully hard, red and leaking. You hadn’t even considered what all this was doing to him, so lost in your own pleasure from the moment your eyes opened. You have the sudden urge to fall to your knees and take him into your mouth until he comes deep down your throat, but your body is limp, sunk into the mattress below you. You merely watch with hooded eyes as he fists himself, his gaze fixed on your slicked core, the sight makes another pool of your arousal drip onto the sheets.

“Fuck-“ he sucks in a sharp breath, his hips stuttering against his own hold. “Need t’ be inside this tight cunt, baby.”

Your eyes go slightly wide at his confession, yet your lower half shakes with anticipation. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him like this, this wrecked, desperate, this needy. He looks almost pained when your eyes meet his, and you feel as though you may just implode if he’s not inside you a moment longer. 

“Will you let me, pretty girl?”

You nod. 

“Yes or no, baby?” He squeezes the base of his shaft, staving off his impending release. You can’t help but smile a little, knowing he could come just like this, just from looking at you in your current state. But the need to feel him inside of you pulls you from the thought. 

Yes, please, yes.

He grabs your hips and swiftly flips you, shoving a pillow under your lower belly and pushing down on you until you’re laid almost flat on your stomach. He grabs roughly at your hips, pulling you up so that his cock brushes up against your slick folds. 

You bite down on your forearm when his wide tip notches at your entrance, basically drooling onto your own skin as you attempt to hold back your cries. He eases into you, still overly conscious of your sensitivity, ignoring the small part of his brain telling him to ram into you, make you feel every inch of him in one swift motion. He knows that you would take it, thank him for it, always such a good girl for him especially once he’s finally inside you, yet he knows the kind of control he has over you in these moments, knows it’s up to him to determine what you can and can’t take. 

When he bottoms out you feel as though you may just split in two, something animalistic sounds from deep within Joel’s throat. Tears fall to your arm when your head lolls to the side, your breathing ragged and your whole body on fire from both pain and pleasure.

“Fuck- not gonna last, baby.” He starts moving in and out of you slowly, and god, it hurts, yet your tight cunt sucks him back in with each of his thrusts, a delicious burning sensation spreading along your slick walls. You open your mouth to respond, to tell him not to worry himself, to beg him to come inside your aching cunt. But all that escapes your lips is a choked sob in the sound of Joel’s name. 

“Shh I know,” he coos. “You’re just so little, huh sweet thing? Little fucking cunt squeezing me so good honey.”

You keen at his praise, gushing around his massive girth. You’d never get used to it, the thickness of his cock, the weight of him deep inside your cunt. No matter how much he prepares you, it’s always a stretch, always just short of too much to bare. 

His thumb presses into the cleft of your ass as his pace increases. “Gonna let me fuck you here, baby?”

“Yes daddy,” you say and he freezes for a moment, your words nearly sending him over the edge. 

“Not today, little girl,” he growls and rocks back into you. A feeling of combined relief and disappointment washes over you. You’re not sure you could take it, not now, but part of you craves to be reduced to nothing but Joel’s fuck toy, fucked deep and full until you can’t even think, nothing but a few holes to be filled. 

“You’d let me though, wouldn’t ya?” He pulls you from your thought. “Dirty fuckin’ thing.”

“Mhm, yes daddy.” Your vision goes black at the feeling of his cock pulsing against your cervix. He was close, you could feel it in the way his thrusts went erratic, sloppy and slightly hurried. 

“Let me do whatever I want to ya, huh?”

“Yes daddy,” you say the only two words left in your brain. 

“Fuck, so fucking perfect, baby-“ The feeling of his warm release shooting inside of you makes you twitch around him and your brain go fuzzy. You can barely hear Joel’s grunts and moans nor his incessant praises over the ringing in your ears. This is what you craved, beyond the physical gratification brought on by these moments, but the way the world around you disappeared and you were filled with nothing but the content of being his, being Joel’s. The safety you felt beneath his large form, it leaves no room for worry, no thoughts of the stress of everyday life, no decisions to be made. Just him, just Joel. 

You’re not sure how long the two of you stay like this, long enough to feel your combined release dripping from Joel’s cock onto your trembling thighs, long enough that you feel yourself dipping in and out of sleep, in and out of consciousness. 

When he finally pulls out of you, he lets your hips softly fall onto the bed, your body sprawled across the damp sheets. You feel the mattress shift behind you as he stands, immediately heading for the en suite bathroom. At the loss of his presence, you’re reminded of the open window, the now midmorning breeze dancing across your damp skin. You can’t help but wonder if the echoes of your morning endeavors made their way to the street below, if a neighbor passing by could make out the sounds of your shrieks and screams, if perhaps it’d been a cause for concern until it became apparent that your cries were derived from a place of pleasure and not pain nor fear. 

Joel returns and takes quick notice of your shivering, immediately making his way to the window and shutting it. You smile to yourself at the sight of his bare backside, so strong and sturdy, the muscles in his shoulders sculpted from years of working on various job sites, tapering down to his waist, the dimples right above his ass. It’s truly a view you would never tire of. 

“‘S impolite to stare, y’ know?” He catches your eye, a playful smirk spread across his face. You giggle at him, still laying on your belly, your head tucked into the crook of your elbow. He chuckles when you make grabby hands at him with your free hand, to which he quickly concedes, bending over at your side and planting a kiss on your lips. You sigh against him, carding your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer. 

“Hey baby.” He breaks the kiss, his breath hot against your nose. He tucks fallen pieces of hair behind your ear. “You okay?” 

You nod your head tiredly, unable to muster any more of a response, and he doesn’t attempt to pull one out of you, kissing your nose and rising back to his feet. 

He disappears once again, this time returning dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and a damp washcloth in hand. He sits next to you on the bed, moving to clean between your legs, but your thighs clamp shut. It’s a purely physical reaction, your body on high alert due to the sensitivity. 

“Hey hey-“ he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine then leans over to press a kiss to your shoulder. “Just want t’ clean you up sweet girl. I’ll be so gentle, promise.” His soothing makes your legs instinctively relax and he brings the washcloth to the apex of your thighs. He’s gentle just like he promised, yet you still hiss slightly when the warm material meets your sensitive skin. 

When he’s finished, he grabs one of his t-shirts and a pair of shorts from the dresser, quickly returning to your side and urging you to turn onto your back. He dresses you, your body like putty in his hands, his touch gentle and warm. You can’t deny the aching feeling in your lower half when he slides your shorts on, but it’s a good kind of ache, an ache you’ll crave as soon as it dissipates. 

You grab at him again when he moves to pull away, but he makes it easy for you, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, careful not to bare any of his weight on you. The little whimpers that slip past your lips as your warm mouth moves across his make his spent cock twitch.

It scared him sometimes, the intensity with which he felt for you, the depth of his affections. It scared him, the thoughts he had, of what he would do to those who meant to hurt you, to those who have hurt you. It scared him, the thought of losing you, the lengths he would go to keep you safe, keep you here, here with him. But it was in these moments, when you’re laid beneath him, so soft and so lovely, that all those fears melted away. 

Before things move any further, he hooks his arms under you and lifts you from the bed with ease. You don’t protest, not sure you could even if you wanted to, instead you latch onto him, curl your face into his neck and wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you downstairs to the living room. 

He attempts to set you on the couch, but you cling to him like a koala, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. “Let go,” he says firmly, a smile behind his words. “Don’t wanna,” you mumble against his skin, whining as he unfurls you from his torso and plops you on the couch. He places the TV remote in your hand, telling you to put somethin’ on, whatever you want.

He disappears into the kitchen and you attempt to sit up on the couch, your body going slack against the cushions. Your brain is still buzzing, it’s almost like you’re floating, not yet fully aware of your surroundings, but you can slowly feel yourself coming back to reality. You turn the TV on and set it to your latest recording. 

Joel returns a few minutes later, your favorite water bottle and a plate of peanut butter toast in hand, a bottle of Advil in the other. He sits on the couch, immediately urging you onto his lap, and you don’t object. 

“The Bachelor?” He says, a hint of judgement in his voice as he unscrews the cap of the Advil. 

“You love it,” you respond, beginning to lose focus on the show as you squirm and slither against his body, making yourself comfortable as if he were part of the couch. Joel softly chuckles, wrapping an arm loosely around you.

He holds a few of the pills in front of you. “Joel I’m fine. I don’t-“

“Not asking, sweetheart.” You roll your eyes, but take the Advil from him nonetheless, swallowing them down when Joel holds the straw of your water bottle to your mouth, knowing your body would thank you for it later. 

“Good girl,” he plants a quick kiss to your temple, before grabbing the toast from the coffee table, heat rises to your cheeks at his words.

He feeds you the toast, taking bites for himself while you chew. You hadn’t realized how depleted your body was, now feeling the haze lift with some food and water in your system. Every time it’s like coming back to earth, but fortunately you know that Joel will always be there to catch you. 

y'all I’m not good at endings pls forgive me

but hope we enjoyed the rest :p

part two

[dollarbils]

but baby, i | b.e.

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. your ex girlfriend, billie, can’t resist calling you a week after you’d broken up.

warnings. angst, fluff, suggestive

masterlist

‘if you go, i’m going too’

a sigh of relief was heard on the other end of the phone when you’d pressed the green button, spilling out a hesitant ‘hello’ as you held the phone up to your ear. There was no response however, lighting up a flame of irritation in you.

“Who is this?” was the next thing that fell from your lips, laced with hostility.

“baby,” it was quiet, soft and inviting. Emotions from the previous couple months all encompassed into the term of endearment.

“billie?” your voice softened at the realisation of who it was.

“deleted my number already have you?” she teased, but it didn’t make you smile, not in this moment.

“billie, what happened? are you okay?” the questions tumbled out in an attempt to comprehend the reason for her call. it had been a week since you’d broken up, and hearing her voice felt like you’d been taken back to last Friday.

“yeah no, nothing happened, i’m fine. i just..” she trailed off, gathering the courage to speak, or the bravery to do the right thing, and hang up. but she was weak, and so were you.

“yeah?” it was a plea for her to continue. a beg for her to speak the words you couldn’t.

“i miss you baby.” your eyes drifted shut, a flush rising to your cheeks.

“billie, this isn’t a good idea.” it was the truth neither of you wanted to hear.

“i don’t care.” she whined, desperation clear in her words.

“billie don’t say that.” she let out a sigh of frustration at your words.

“i know you missed me too, this week has been the shittiest week you could imagine.” and suddenly you found yourself drifting into your usual conversation, like you would’ve a week ago.

“i’m sorry bils, how can i help?” it was a stupid question and you’d realised soon enough. all of this would eventually lead you back to her.

“you know how.” it was a confession in itself, revealing what she hoped to get from this call.

“tell me. whatever you need, i’ll do it.” you couldn’t reject her, not now, not ever. she had been everything for you, and she still was.

“come over, please.” her request was simple but it meant so much.

“are you sure?” her answer would decide your future, because it was clear what would happen if you complied with her wish.

“i need you.” those three words were deadly, they represented so many things all at once. they could be interpreted as multiple meanings.

“fuck,” it was a sigh of submission, giving in to her. and everything you’d previously given up. “i’ll be there in ten.”

‘cause it was always you’

the silence that followed the knock on her door, was deafening. leaving too much space for you to fall into the pit of doubt, that was still very much prominent. when the door finally opened, she stood in front of you, her perfect eyes attaching themselves to yours. then she smiled, engulfing you in a gentle hug, holding you as if you might break.

“billie.” it pulled her out of her state of daydreaming, grounding her with the realisation that this didn’t mean the beginning of a new chapter.

“i’m so sorry.” the apology was long overdue, but when she closed the door behind you, inviting you back in, none of that mattered.

“i know, but i need your promise, that we’ll be okay this time. i can’t go through breaking up with you again. i won’t survive it this time.” your throat closed up, signalling you to stop talking before your feelings spill out of your eyes, in front of her.

“of course angel, i understand. i’ll give you whatever you need.” she held your face in her hands, confirming her words at the slight rub of her thumb, over your cheeks.

“i need your devotion, your love.”

“but baby, i..” she paused for a second, pondering on wether her next words were ones she’d later regret. but she soon brushed the doubt away, releasing herself from its constraints, confessing her truth. “i’ll love you ‘til the day that i die.”

when she brought her lips to yours they were warm, inviting. they connected and moulded together as your bodies inched closer.

‘and if i’m turning blue, please don’t save me’

the heat from her breath, warming the patches of skin tainted by her tongue, as she ran it across your naked body. her lips attached to yours nipples, and then your clit. devoting herself to your pleasure. expressing her love for your body.

‘nothing left to lose, without my baby.’

and when your mind lost itself in her affection, focusing on her tongue buried deep inside you hole, you felt connected. birds of a feather destined to reach for each other in times of difficulty. destined to end up in each others’ embrace in times of despair.

‘we should stick together.’

[amarynthian-chronicles]

Equivalent Value

Sebastian Solace x Reader

(warning: suggestive themes)

"Come on, Seb, don't be like that. Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

He reached to place a clawed finger under your chin, tilting his head and grinning, narrowing his eyes.

"You are lovely when you beg. My answer remains negative."

"You are a jerk."

"A merchant's honour is very important, little light. As much as I enjoy your charming pleas, I cannot go against my own rules. You need to offer me something of equivalent or approximate value. And your sweet "pretty please" is not going to cut it."

He was taunting you, relishing the power that your despair offered. Perhaps your own pain was a soothing balm to calm his own wretchedness. It was more tolerable to listen to the shrieks of others than one's own, after all.

Still, you refused his answer. You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest.

"It is becoming insanely difficult to scavenge things and I am just trying to survive at this point. If you want to keep your favourite toy in a functional state, that will require some concessions on your end. Can you please make an exception this time? I am desperate here."

Sebastian could not deny the logic of your statement. You had never allowed yourself to be placed in such a position, and perhaps your claims of not having any research files to bargain with were truthful.

Magnificent. He could make you dance to his music.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against yours, cruel words dripping like poisonous honey from them.

"How desperate are you, my wayward light?"

Mind games with monsters were a dangerous thing and you would normally do your best to win. However, this time you did not have any advantage and you simply wished to get the needed supplies. You sighed.

"What do you want?"

"The most precious thing you could offer to a starving man in this very moment."

You did not stop him when his strong arms snaked around your waist, engulfing and capturing you. You were his prize, the most valuable type of treasure he could acquire. His ally, his accomplice, sharing his secrets.

You were well aware that he wanted you, your mind, body, and soul. Whether you wished to admit it or not, you yourself were the most powerful card you had against him.

"I hereby offer myself. It is all I have. Will this suffice?"

To your surprise, he gently reached for your hand, kissing it in a gentlemanly manner.

"The payment is more than acceptable."

You blinked in confusion at the sudden change of demeanour. Yes, the feral desire was still there, but his actions were now coupled with a certain tenderness that bordered on worship.

Sebastian took his sweet time, placing many gentle kisses along your hand, then upon each finger. His teeth grazed slowly along your wrist. Your cheeks were burning.

"Oh, my."

"My blessing, my little light, sweet salvation. For years, I had remained here, condemned, left to rot in this oceanic prison. And yet, an angel has been sent to me, tormenting me, mocking me with their warmth, their hope. I shall feast, I shall drink that nectar."

"You send such mixed signals, you know?"

"To keep you guessing, of course."

"Bastard."

His lips claimed yours, eager, showing his claim. Your softness drove him mad, his long tongue reaching to explore the warm and welcoming cavern of your mouth. You made little muffled squeaks, surprised at the sudden surge of passion. Even more so at the length of his rather dexterous tongue that was exploring with pure abandon.

Sebastian decided to savour the moment, gliding his claws along your sides, grinning as he felt you shudder under his touch. Such softness. He had been deprived of the pleasures of simple touch and affection for so long.

Deciding that he should grant you the mercy of allowing you to breathe once more, he released you from the kiss. He nuzzled the soft silken skin under your neck, allowing your warmth to comfort him. Your pulse, your beating heart, a symphony only for him to enjoy.

Sebastian had to gather some control over himself, resisting the need to claim you in that very moment. No, he wished to slowly unwrap his present and enjoy each part of the payment that had been offered. Still, his three hands could not help themselves, fondling and scratching, teasing you all over. You were still gasping for breath, holding onto him.

"Seb..."

"I am busy, darling."

"Don't tear the fabric, I don't have a whole closet of clothing, you know."

"Worry not, I shan't disrobe you just yet. Your payment will be in several installments. This is merely the first one. As for the garments, I can procure you whatever you wish."

"Good thing you didn't print a receipt, while you are at it."

Strong hands kept massaging and squeezing your sides and hips, earning your sweet hums and moans as a reward. You relaxed in his hold, leaning your head on his chest, closing your eyes.

"A little to the right, upwards. My back has been killing me for days, this is wonderful. You should be a masseuse, Seb. Three arms work magic."

He laughed gently at your nonsense, resting his chin on your soft head.

"Of course, my dear light."

[chillermaina]

I like being people's first request.

Can I have some smut with Fontaine men and how they would ravage there s/o during smeggsy time if they asked them?

Thank uuuu!! <33 (good luck on your writing journey!)

Thank you!

Featuring / Wriothesley, Lyney, Neuvillette

How Genshin Men Would React If There S/O Ask's Them To Go Rougher

Featuring / Wriothesley, Lyney, Neuvillette

Content Warning: pussy drunk (wriothesley), overstimulation (wriothesley), fingering (wriothesley), biting (lyney), dirty talk (lyney), penetration (neuvillette), praise (neuvillette), 2 cock (neuvillette)

SMUT NO PLOT BE AWARE!!

Wriothesley ׂ╰┈➤ *ੈ♡⸝⸝⛓️༘⋆

Wriothesley is definitely a pussy man, yes crazy sentence starter, I know. He is drunk over it and starved over it.

Wriothesley is usually already very rough with you during sex and whether it tends to be sexual or something new you two are experimenting with he still manages to find creative ways to be rough.

It would definitely be a day where he is eating you out after a stressed day of work. Your legs hooked over his shoulders and his head dipped between the plush of your thighs skillfully working down there.

It would be until you ask him to go rougher he would be puzzled at first. He was already rough and you want him to be rougher with you?

It wouldn't take long till you're completely on the bed and he is ravaging you In every way possible with his tongue and fingers. Curling at least 3 and the over stimulation flowing inside of you like a tidal wave.

Not even a warning when you come you just let it out, because of everything you were feeling all at once..

And knowing Wriothesley.. he's not stopping.

Lyney ׂ╰┈➤ *ੈ♡⸝⸝♠️༘⋆

Lyney loves biting you and it's a weird head cannon but cmon he's so kitty coded so it makes sense

Lyney loves biting you and leaving bruises everywhere on your skin and it doesn't matter how noticeable it could be when you're out in public, he just needs to make sure his presence was known on your body.

He definitely suckles on your bites after he does it, it's a great way to draw out some quick moans when you feel the pain and then the warmness of his saliva on your skin afterward, but obviously Lyney knows exactly what you like.

It makes him smirk hearing you beg for him to go rougher when you were already whining in pain before and it just makes him more riled up and talk dirty to you.

"Ah.. so my doll still needs a bit more fixing..?"

"shh.. cmon doll ill just make these marks more noticeable."

His bites get rougher leaving really noticeable marks and his tongue also gets explorative, leaving trails of saliva on your skin.

But I guess that's a perk of being a magicians lover. There's tricks inside of him without props.

Neuvillette ׂ╰┈➤ *ੈ♡⸝⸝🌊༘⋆

IDC Neuvillette can be all gentle and stoic he likes I can tell this man is gentle but only when asked. This man will be an absolute fein in the sheets.

Neuvillette loves the way your soft body takes him in and out, your face smooshed against the silk sheets while his cock slips inside and out of you comfortably. His other cock was stroking along your clit with precision.

Neuvillette was confused. You originally wanted some gentle sex but now you're asking him to be rough? But he was not complaining one bit, in fact he was actually feeling a primal desire. A selfish desire he had to let in and act on.

You were flipped on your back and penetrated into opening your walls extremely wide to accommodate his girth. His cock kissing your cervix causing your eyes to roll in the back of your head. His other one is stroking faster against your puffy clit due to the fast and rough thrusts. All while he praised you.

"You're doing so well like this, dear.."

"Is it selfish to admit I like to see you like this?"

Neuvillette heard your pleas and cries of his title which was enough alone to rile him up more and more.

Minutes and minutes pass..

And Neuvillette was not gonna slow down anytime soon..

@chillermaina 2024 (Please don't steal my work.)

[mariasont]

Bumper to Bumper - A.H

a/n: this is so self-indulgent i am probably the worst fucking parker you've ever seen it's wild & i also just watched a vid of mgg parking someone's car and went feral so there's that

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader (i don't think there is any use of pronouns just nicknames like honey)

warnings: none? rough day, reader is beefing with parking, tooth-rotting fluff

wc: 800

"Hotchner," came his voice, rough like sandpaper across the line, as you fought back the swell of tears, your lower lip caught in the anxious trap of your teeth.

Your eyes fixed on the parking spot before you, the very sight of it forming a lump in your throat as your frustration mounted. The morning had unfolded like a series of unfortunate events--your coffee machine had sputtered its last, your favorite book left forgotten on the porch to be ruined by the rain, and now, this parking spot seemed to mock you, its yellow lines almost pulsating with contempt. 

Your hand glided across your dampened cheek, exhaling a shaky breath as you juggled the phone between your ear and shoulder. "You know, I don't think I've said this enough, but you're an exceptional boss. Honestly, you're—"

You sensed the sigh in his breath before he spoke. "What do you need?"

"I know I'm late," you managed to get out, a small hiccup halting your sentence as you did everything in your power to avoid crying, but the waver in your voice gave you away. "But I have a good reason--"

Once more, he stopped you mid-sentence, as he often did. "Where are you? Is everything okay?"  

"I'm fine, it's silly."

"If something's wrong, I want to hear it. What's happening?"

"I just... I can't seem to park my car," you choke out, cheeks aflame with mortification. "I've been trying and failing, over and over, it's embarrassing. The spot's too tight, and of course, it's the only one left because 'M late."

"Hold on, I'll be right there," he said, and the line went dead.

You were left staring at your phone, a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over you. You cringed, feeling smaller with each passing second, knowing he was swamped with work and here you were, unable to perform the simplest task of parking a car.

The moment you saw him step out of the building, your racing heart began to slow, his presence alone easing the knot of anxiety in your chest. He approached and opened the driver's door, and you were suddenly spilling over with apologies, the traces of tears still evident on your cheeks.

He looked at you with a gentleness that melted away the last of your defenses, reassuring you with a simple. "It's okay. I got it."

He took your place behind the wheel and parked the car with ease. As you stood there, you realized how his unwavering steadiness had become a pillar you leaned on more often than you'd like to admit. 

As he stepped out of the car, you approached, your voice barely above a whisper, "Thank you, and I'm sorry. I know it's such a small thing..."

He gave a slight sigh, one that seemed to brush away your concerns, a hint of a smile in his eyes and said, "There's nothing to apologize for. Don't be so hard on yourself," he reminded you gently, his hand coming to rest on the soft of your shoulder. 

A silent nod was all you could muster as you lifted your gaze to meet his. Your eyes were still red-rimmed from crying, and your nose, slightly pink from the number of tissues you had abused this morning. In a soft plea, you murmured, "Can I have a hug?"

Without a word, he simple open his arms, an unspoken invitation that you immediately accepted. As you nestled into his arms, your body relaxing as you inhaled his familiar scent. A soft sniffle escaped you as Hotch quietly said, "Five senses..."

You closed your eyes and focused on the sensory details--the comforting touch, his reassuring voice, the sight of his concerned gaze when you opened your eyes, the taste of the air mingled with his cologne, and the grounding scent of him. As your breathing evened out, he gently placed his hand on the pulse point at your neck, counting your heart rate in his mind. 

You stepped back, a sheepish grin spreading across your face. "I suppose driving school is next on my training agenda?"

Hotch's expression softened into a subtle smile. "I'd agree, considering I just got you that car, I'd prefer it if you got the chance to enjoy it first before crashing it," he teased back lightly. "You sure you're okay?" he asked, his eyes searching yours.

"Promise."

Hotch glanced at his watch, a decision forming in his eyes. "I think I can free up some time later. How about we get you another copy of your book?"

As your smile broke through the clouds of your frustration, it was as if the sun had pierced through the overcast sky of his day, bathing him in a light he never wanted to leave. "Really?" you responded, practically glowing with delight.

Hotch's heart swelled at the sight, feeling lighter than he had in ages. Gently, he cupped your face, drawing you closer to plant a tender kiss on your forehead. "I love you, honey," he said, his voice a low rumble.

You giggled, a little surprised by the public display of affection, you blushed, responding with a shy, "Love you too."

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

DARE TO DISAPPOINT. 18+

bucky barnes x fem!reader — angst & smut

summary. you and bucky arrange to meet your friends for the first time, but he doesn’t show up. you find out the reason why while he attempts to make it up to you

word count. 2.7k

warnings. 18+ only! little bit of one-sided arguing at the beginning. hurt reader, teasing bucky, cunnilingus, pinv, resolved ending. mdni

Plans change and sometimes that’s okay. You’re grown enough to deal with it though you often expected better. You expected better from Bucky. 

Earlier in the week, you and your friends arranged to meet at a nice restaurant, the purpose of the hangout designed to introduce them to your boyfriend, Bucky. It was the natural step after several months of dating. And after a few change-abouts with the date, and accommodating last-minute personal life popups, it was all set in stone. The date of the introduction known to you, Bucky and your friends.

It was the day of your hangout —the night of— and Bucky was yet to return home. The minutes slowly turned into an hour and an hour slowly turned into two. Your texts and calls were yet to be unanswered and you couldn’t help but notice the nervous pit grow in your stomach.

It wasn’t like him. He’s not the kind of guy that would stand you up. That’s essentially what this was – you arranged a date, got dressed all nice and now he left you hanging. 

You’re sitting on the sofa, heels on the floor and phone in hand as you reread your messages, looking at your string of unresponded texts. This was getting ridiculous.

And as if he were right on cue, you hear keys jingle, the opening sound of your front door following shortly after. The silhouette of Bucky appearing through the gap.

“I’m so s—” he says as soon as his eyes fall on you, his features softened.

“No,” you interrupt, shaking your head at him. 

His head faintly tilts as he walks over to you, his hand reaching for your shoulder. “Honey,” he practically coos, his voice gentle. 

But you shrug off his touch, moving your arm away from his attempt of physical comfort. 

“You can’t do that,” you turn to look at him, your eyebrows furrowing as if to further show your frustrations. 

You pick up your shoes from the floor, slinking your fingers in the straps as you stand. You turn on your foot and head for your bedroom down the hall, not so much as giving him another glance – almost blanking him. 

He doesn’t let you get far, his hurried footing chasing after you. “Baby,” he whispers, the pet name faint and gentle. Like he was appeasing you, an attempt of amends.

But again, you ignore it, making your way into your room to unready yourself and get out of your dress. 

“Come on,” he lingers in the doorway, watching you walk around your room. “Don’t shut me off, talk to me. Get angry at me, just say something,” he says, speaking like it was like a plea. 

You turn around to face him, a lounge t-shirt grasped tight in hand. “You want me to get angry?” you scoff, tone fairly amused. 

“Yes,” he nods, eyes soft as he looks at you. “I upset you. I hurt you. Tell me that.”

You scoff once more and throw your tee on the bed. “You want me to get angry? Okay fine,” you snap. “You disappointed me. We arranged to meet my friends but you never showed up. You made me sad. You pissed me off. You don’t do that, okay? Not to your girlfriend,” you glare at him, getting everything off your chest – repeating the things you said to yourself while you were waiting for him. “That’s the third time we’ve had to cancel, do you know how embarrassing that is?”

He nods, never once retaliating – taking in everything you say.

“James,” you pause, taking a breath. “If you don’t want to meet them, just tell me. Okay? Don’t mess me around,” you say, words far calmer once you realise you were not being met with anger, but instead comprehension. 

He was understanding you, listening to you. Anger a far-distant emotion of his.

“I am sorry,” he nods, action reaffirming his apology. He steps into your room, waiting hesitantly near your bed – standing on the opposite side as you. 

“You could’ve called me. I would’ve understood,” you say, voice almost defeated as you sit on the edge of the bed, your back to him. “I know how you get… just tell me next time.”

He makes his way around the bed to you on the other side, halting when he’s in front of you. “I know,” he says, eyes focused down on you in your seated position. 

You stiffen your features, straightening them so he doesn’t see your facade weaken into a smile.

He could see the slip, his own expression mirroring yours. “Forgive me,” he whispers, leaning over to peck your forehead. 

You cock your head at him, amusement in your eyes when you watch him bend to the floor, taking a knee before you. 

Bucky extends a hand towards you, palm gliding across your face to cup it, his eyes warm as he looks over you. “Come on,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Say you forgive me, just say it,” he mutters into your cheek —the opposite one to his hold— speaking softly into your skin. He thumbs the apple of your cheek, swiping over it as he presses a kiss into your lips. “You know you want to,” he lingers, whispering into them. “Let me make you forgive me.”

Your chest heaves at his tempts, the juxtaposing sides of your brain conflicting, each one fighting for leadership. You wanted to forgive him as you knew it was not in his character, but then again, he knew about this date. He knew it was important, yet he was late – didn’t show. 

So, you pull your head back slightly to look at him, eyes honing in on his lust-filled ones. He means it. 

You squint at him, the action playful.

“See,” he smiles, features gentle. “It’s not hard.”

You glance down at him. “It’s not?” you tease, suddenly forgetting the outrage mere moments before.

He cocks his head, chuckling with a sweet, boyish smile. “No, that is.”

“That’s a shame,” you say, your hands reaching to the sides of his face, fingers  grazing back into his hair. “Problem is,” you start, leaning in to kiss him briefly. “I’m tired from waiting around, so I was thinking about going to bed. Get an early night.”

His hands move to your thighs, one metal, one fleshed palm firm on the swell of your upper legs. “Bed?” he repeats, his touch rising to sit under the fabric of your dress. “Well, what would you say about me staying over?”

“I don’t know,” you play along, entertaining him. “It is quite late though, isn’t it?” 

“It is,” he nods, leaning forward once more to speak against your lips. “Maybe I should stay,” he utters to them, punctuating his tempt with a kiss.

Your hands around his face fall to his shoulders, your arms draping loosely over them as you pull him back in, kissing him with a little more urgency than before. “Maybe you should,” you mutter into his mouth.

He can read between the lines, he’s not an idiot. Sure he’s a man, but he’s not completely clueless. 

That little silent agreement from you was all he needed, the hints of willingness showing him he was in the midst of your forgiveness. And so with his hands still on your thighs, he raises them just that bit higher, his fingers skimming the very inners. 

“Forgive me yet?” he asks, pads of his fingers bumping against your fabric-covered cunt.

You firmly shake your head ‘no,’ wordlessly telling him he had a lot more to do than kiss you and touch your thighs. The simple act only spurring him on more.

He hums and pulls away from you, his eyes landing on your legs – gaze honing on his fingers just mere centimetres away from your pussy. He keeps his eyes down as he follows his movements, his fingers grazing up to slink into the waistband of your underwear.

Without a moment to think on it, your hips are lifting, the action helping him take them off. He tugs on them gently, pulling them under your ass and over your thighs, being sure to drag them over your skin as he does it. Letting the fabric caress you.

Your eyes are focused on your thighs like his are, each micro movement being watched eagerly by the pair of you. Each of you following the motion of their removal, the skimpy fabric momentarily caught around your knees – underwear spread between your parted legs before falling to your ankles.

He moves forward, his body slotting between you as his right, fleshed hand resumes its prior position in the crease of your upper thigh. His touch light and teasing.

His thumb extends out, tip of it knocking just under your clit. The feeling eliciting a soft, breathy noise into the close distance between. He keeps his eyes on yours as he does it again, prodding his thumb to the nub to get the same reaction. And he gets it, that same response of a delicate, whiney sound. The same sound causing a strain in his boxers. 

“Sounds like you forgive me,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss you briefly, the slight force of him pushing you back into the mattress behind you. 

Your legs spread instinctively as he pushes himself closer, your eyes still focused on him in your laid position. 

“Getting close,” you quip, your reply a double entendre.

He hums, the view of his smile disappearing as he ducks down between your thighs, his face itching closer to your cunt. Brushing up the hem of your dress, he presses a kiss to the inner of your thigh, lips lingering for a mere moment.

With your hands having a mind of their own, you reach down to his head, your fingers skimming through his hair as a way to hold him close. Your grip light as you keep him where you want him.

He presses another kiss into your thigh, this time it’s in the crease. The contact of him so close to where he was needed pushed your mind further into a tizzy. 

As he circles your pussy with kisses, he’s sure to avoid your clit – being mindful to ignore the mound of nerves. Making you wait for it.

His little teasing games aren’t going to cut it tonight. It was your forgiveness he needed, so him making you wait, for the second time was not what you wanted. So, with your hands in his hair, you direct him, guiding him closer to your cunt – nudging him to the places where you need his touch.

Your cues go noticed. His lips moving to wrap around your clit, tongue slipping between to flick over it – the ache in your pussy being alleviated instantly with the brisk contact. The grip in his hair tightens as your hips unknowingly buckle, a gentle wind knocking you further into his face. The tip of his nose skimming your pubic bone.

Taking the hint, he does it again. His tongue laid flat against the nub as he encapsulates it between his lips, warm wet mouth attached to you like a suction cup.

And before long, he’s making it up to you by making out with your cunt. Working you up impossibly more until you’re writhing and grinding against him, crying obscenities into the air til you’re on the cusp of your high. Mere moments from falling into that deep end.

Though before you get there, the elated feeling is stripped from you. His tongue and lips lifting from its position. His selfish, cruel trick leaving you panting and gasping and whining frustratedly. 

“Are you trying to make me hate you?” 

“What?” he questions, voice teasing as he stands. His upper body hovering over you with hands situated either side, weight anchored from above. “No,” he whispers, head shaking softly as he leans to press a kiss to your lips. “Never.”

With one hand, you cup his face, holding him there as you deepen the kiss – tasting yourself on his tongue. Your other slips down to his waist, eager fingers dancing over the exposed slither of skin. The urgency clear with your soft, muffled breaths into his mouth.

“I will,” you utter, pulling away to speak against his lips. You drop your other hand to his waist, mirroring the desperate grabs on the band of his pants. “I will hate you.”

“You can never hate me,” he murmurs into your jaw, solidifying his statement with a string of fluttery kisses down the length of your throat.

That part’s true.

He balances on his left, metal arm, his fleshed one sliding between you both and down the front of his combat pants. A slight bulge forming in the constricting fabric, his meaty wrist being the reason.

Your legs bend at the knee on instinct, your thighs spreading and adjusting to his lower half more comfortably. Knees hugging at his sides as he palms his cock, readying himself. He pumps it a few brisk times after pulling himself over the waistband, eager dick hard and heavy resting over his belt. His hand moves to his mouth to spit into the palm, and with that added little bit of lubrication, he grabs a hold of himself once more, working the saliva over the tip.

With his soft, baby blues honed in on yours, he focuses, his gaze never leaving yours as he guides himself towards you under your dress. The movement comes from a place of muscle memory, the motion fluid from repeating the act dozens of times before. He doesn’t even need to look to know how far away he is from you.

And as the head of his cock knocks against your cunt upon first contact, you involuntarily let out a soft, breathy exhale, the sound blissed and relieved. He swirls his tip around you, circling through your folds to pick up that residual spit – using that like lube.

He lines himself with you, hand firm around the middle of his dick as he eases into you, pushing inside slowly. His eyes still focused on yours, they mirror his, a sort of softness spreading in them the more he starts to fill you, stretch you.

You pull him back down to your eagerly, hands slipping up to the curve of his back to make him resume his prior hovering position. You hold onto him tightly, your chest rising and falling in such a way you fear your lungs may explode, the quick pace a physical tell of the way he affects you. He makes you feel so much.

He ducks his head, his forehead pressing against yours as he stills, the motion in his hips halting with only half of himself wedged inside.

“I’m sorry,” he says, words soft between the close distance of your lips.

“For what?” you ask, bringing a hand to hold his head, the palm cupping sweetly over his cheek. “For earlier?”

He hums, pulling away to look at you. His grasp reflecting yours, his fleshed hand holding the side of your face.

“What happened?” you question, looking off to the side as you graze through his hair. “I thought you were excited about meeting them.”

“I was. I am. I just,” he pauses, distracting himself by thumbing over your lips, his eyes following the outline motion. “What if they don’t like me?”

You stare at him, brows furrowing quizzically as the doubt-filled question settles in your ears. What on earth makes him think that?

“Why would they not like you?” you ask, redirecting your focus to his eyes. 

“I don’t know.”

“If they were to hate anyone, it would be me,” you smile softly, thumbing over his temple. “They’d be so jealous when they see who I’m with.”

He chuckles faintly, head shaking at the compliment. 

“I’m being serious,” you whisper back, extending your neck to kiss him briefly. “They know how special you are to me,” you pause to kiss him again, trying to butter him up – make him feel better. “They’ll love you, because you love me.”

He smiles faintly against your lips, a soft boyish grin stretching across his face. “We can still make it tonight,” he suggests.

You shake your head ‘no’, the offer appreciated, but not wanted. “We can arrange something another time,” you drop a hand to his very lower back, your fingers pawing at him – silently asking him to wind his hips. “Tonight. I just want you.”

**not my artwork, I don’t know the artist either