#thoughts racing heart pounding

[sensitivedead]

nobody talk to me im watching naked 1993

[promiscuousasexual]

thoughts on the frequent 'teammate terrorist' comments about esteban? i know lots of people use it as an affectionate joke but it doesn't sit right with me given he's the only MENA driver on the grid and typical european attitudes to that region... maybe i'm reading too much into it, but some people should definitely consider the implications of their 'joke'

i am so glad you asked this question because i actually was thinking about that but i was so scared i was overreacting

i think it makes me slightly uncomfortable but that also depends on context?? i know most people don’t mean it that way and they’re referring purely to the reputation he has (which is a whole other conversation) but there are times when people are being particularly aggressive that it does make me feel slightly uneasy.

it’s the fact that he’s the only one that seems to hold that reputation despite many on the grid having been awful to their teammates that makes me go ????

i don’t really wanna make anyone feel bad for saying it though cause i know the implication probably didn’t click for them right away and also i want to assume that most people are just genuinely unaware and are just trying to be funny.

the thing is racism is also subconscious and that’s what most people don’t realize. just because you’re not actively trying to be racist doesn’t mean what you said or the way you treat someone isn’t racist, and unless you’re a poc (esp one surrounded by mostly white people), that’s not exactly something you’ll experience and therefore it’s not something you’ll understand.

i can discuss more about subconscious bias all day if someone’s interested but i won’t go too in depth atm.

anyway, this was very long winded but people can do what they like, I won’t label them as racist automatically for saying that particular phrase, i have made a few jokes myself, calling him a “terror” but i personally don’t like using words like “terrorist” to refer to him so i stray from that, usually saying things like “menace” or “pain” or “nightmare” or whatever else, just cause i’m hyper aware of the implications.

[underthelamplight]

I AM SO!!!!

Will not ever stop thinking about “might even kiss you several times! or hold you down while I do it”

It’s just so 💞💞💕💞

[heartshattering]

Hope these bad feelings piling up don't turn into an episode :')

[chocum]

P POWER !

— “that pussy got power” feat. shiu kong, kento nanami, toji fushiguro, satoru gojo, suguru geto, & choso kamo.

WARNINGS. fem reader (she/her), recording, overstim, shower sex, choking, eye contact, spit, slaps, threesome, anal, oral (m+f) needy men. note i hope you all are doing well. p power came on when i was On my way! to work (literally like half of it was written while i was on the clock lol) and then this was born — i basically just took a lyric i think best described them from the song. this was more fun than i thought it would be and ill prob do it again for a diff song. anyways, feedback + reblogs are greatly appreciated ty and enjoyyy!! unedited bc we poured up for the 4th n im a little tipsy ( ｡ •̀ ᵕ •́ ｡)

SHIU KONG — “SHE WANNA GO VIRAL, KEEP FUCKIN’ FOR HOURS”

“look so pretty for the camera baby, look at you” shiu slowly moves to bring his phone closer to where his thick cock burrows and disappears in your struggling pussy— crying and creaming porcelain white around his length, messy. “so full, but she keeps begging for more. squeezing me so tight, how fuckin’ greedy”

he always fills you up so well— massaging your silky walls, his leaky cock curving languidly, kissing your spot with each stupidly slow stroke.

shiu loves to “take his time” with you. loves to just lazily push his hips up, roll them against yours, skin melding, creating delicious friction. it doesn’t take much with you. his cock was made for you after all— perfectly molds your pussy, hugging him with your gummy walls.

“know you wanna show out for the camera baby, cum again f’me. show ‘em how good you are. cmon baby juuuust like that.” you let out a soft, helpless whimper, feeling the heat of embarrassment surge across your cheeks like a wildfire, consuming you, spreading with a prickly intensity that makes your skin flush, your heart racing as he talks you through it, coaxing you closer and closer.

then you’re babbling broken cries of his name over and over and over as you cum around him again, your cunt sucking another load from him too, he never leaves you behind.

he keeps his phone focused on how you milk him dry, sliding out slowly, lewdly, with a throaty “fuck” before stuffing his fingers in your achy pussy making you jump, overstimulation tickling up your spine, “don’t let me out, can’t let all your hard work go to waste, now can we?”

KENTO NANAMI — “SHE WET IN THE SHOWER, THAT PSSY GET LOUDER”

nanami’s eyes sweetly dive into yours, intimately. his broad hands stretching across the curve of your neck as the warm water crashes against his back, cascading, stinging where you dig your nails into his flexed muscles, leaving angry red slashes.

“fuck. gonna cum if you keep looking up at me so desperately like that, honey.”

the sound of skin against skin gets lost in the heavy downpour of the shower, each drop drumming against the tilled walls, but nanami manages to pull out sweet, sweet moans from deep in your throat— cutting through the cacophony, clear and unmistakable, filthy. they pound through his ears, making his cock throb in your wet, sloppy fucking pussy.

“stick—” he grunts, “stick that fucking tongue out”

you nod with a docile tilt of your head like a little doll, your eyes pools of sincerity— obediently letting your tongue fall out of your mouth. he’s leaning over, his body bending slightly as he tilts his head downward to let spit form and fall from innetween his lips onto your tongue, mixing with droplets of steamy water as it glides down your throat.

“so nasty, hm?” his tone is mean, but he’s praising you, smirking as his grip on you tightens, “my nasty, slut of a wife”

TOJI FUSHIGURO — “WE AINT SAYIN NO VOWS, SHE FUCKIN’ NO COWARD”

“c’mon doll, don’t tap out on me,” toji roughly huffs, feigning sympathy but the smirk that tugs at his scarred lips betrays him like it always does, his hands slapping against your puffy cheek— the mean impact leaving a faint stinging sensation amidst the warmth of his touch “‘m not done stuffing my pretty girl yet, cmon”

you’re so fucked out you can’t even think, limbs hanging limp in his tight, tight grasp, basically picking you up and dropping you on his thick cock as your cunt weeps for him, pooling slick he’s fucked out of you onto the velvety sheets.

even his body trembles, each trained muscle tensing beneath his scarred skin, cock twitching inside you rhythmically because it’s too much, even for him. but he ignores the creeping- painful feeling of overstimulation, hissing through clenched teeth about how you’re so “tight”, so “good for him.”

and once again, he’s cumming inside you, heavy balls slapping against your flush ass as he fucks his seed into your abused little cunt. “toji” you cry, dazed eyes looking into his, but he’s so gone, body taking over, hips still slamming into you as he groans out a breathy— needy “fuck” fingers dipping into the curve of your hips.

“i want to taste you,” he sighs, rushing to pull out before folding you over, “ ‘m not stopping till i’m covered in you, give it to me just how i like it”

CHOSO KAMO — “GET PLAY AS A PLAYER, THAT P GET DEVOURED”

“did my girl miss me, hm?” choso hums against your oozing cunt, fingers pushing your fat lips apart, his pointer and middle spreading, so he can give your pretty little clit his undivided attention, kissing, nuzzling with his nose.

he groans at the way you clench around nothing, just begging for his needy cock, words meshed and muffled against your drooling pussy, “i know she did, pretty, ‘s ok ‘m here now”

he drags his fingers to your mouth, “get ‘em wet” pushing past your puffy lips, for you to lick and suck on, not leaving until they’re dripping in your spit, before dipping into your cunt, dragging them against your silky, warm walls, blowing on your clit so gently each time you greedily buck into his palms.

“gonna give me what i want, huh?” he pauses, kiss. “gonna make a mess for me? i know you can, baby. you always do. always get so messy for me i love it”

you nod sheepishly, hands moving to card through his fluffy hair, both hands gripping onto his scalp to ground yourself and grind on his pretty face.

messily, he slobbers, lapping at your cunt, switching between soft sucks to your clit and broad slow licks, making you shudder and twitch, his arms snaking around your thighs to keep you nice and still for him to devour you.

SATORU GOJO & SUGURU GETO — “TOLD MY BROTHER SHE OURS”

“his tongue feel that good, baby? you’re slacking off. suck me like you usually do. ‘s not fair” gojo’s pouting— whining, his hands gently cradling your cheeks bringing you back to him, but your pretty eyes just keep rolling further and further back at the feeling of geto’s tongue flat against your needy cunt. sucking and spitting all over your messy pussy.

promoting gojo to huff, moving his hand to the back of your neck to start rutting into your little mouth, chest growing warm at how you gag around him, his pride growing now that you’re looking up at him, eyes watering so sweetly for him.

geto’s more mature when it comes to sharing you. just hums, pressing his cock against your puffy folds playing, tapping it against your quivering hole, groaning because you’re so messy. can’t even tell if it’s his drool of your messy slick or both.

before he sinks into your cunt, gojo mutters something your overwhelmed little brain can’t comprehend, but after some shuffling around, you feel it. one slicked-up finger slowly sinking into your ass, while geto bottoms out.

gojo gets mean when he’s jealous, but he isn’t cruel, doesn’t wanna hurt his pretty girl, so he preps your tight ass before sinking his cock inside.

you can’t fucking think, at all, brain mushy turned to goo as they both take you. spewing nothing but dirty shit, calling you all types of names, some sweet most of those from geto, but the “slut”’s and “whore”’s are all gojo. his hips sputtering, going dumb at how your tight little ass squeezes around him— he could barely move, just feels geto’s curved tip brushing against the wall that separates your two little holes.

both rutting into you like animals in heat with no regard for how sensitive you're getting, pretty tears brimming up in your eyes.

“so pretty when you take up both, baby ‘specially this little ass ‘s so tight got fucking lucky. keep fucking draining us”

[khioneee]

simon’s voice makes you weak.

there was something about simon’s voice that shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was. maybe it was the way it lingered—deep, gravelly, rough around the edges, like it had been sanded down by years of use and silence. or maybe it was the calm confidence behind it, steady and controlled, sending shivers down your spine with every word.

hearing him speak felt like a drug you hadn’t known you needed until it was too late. the moment that low rumble slipped past his lips, it hooked you—completely and utterly.

you didn’t even care what he was saying half the time. tactical orders, a grumble under his breath, or a sarcastic jab at soap—it didn’t matter. the sound of his voice hit something deep inside you, stirring heat low in your belly.

‘you’re not listening, love,’ simon muttered, the rough edge of his voice curling through the words.

you blinked, realizing you’d been staring too long, completely lost in the cadence of his voice. ‘sorry, what was that?’ you asked, your heart racing, heat creeping up your neck.

he took a step closer. his presence loomed, warm and steady, filling the small space between you. you swore you could feel the smirk beneath the mask, and the sound of his next words pulled a whimper from your throat. ‘filthy thing, getting turned on just from hearing me talk.’

your breath caught as his hand ghosted near your waist, the barest brush of contact, sending sparks dancing across your skin.

‘my good girl,’ he whispered, his voice low and deliberate, wrapping around you like a sin you didn’t mind indulging in.

his words, so simple and devastating, made your thighs clench instinctively, and the look in his eyes behind the mask told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

‘thought so,’ he muttered, amusement curling at the edge of his voice like smoke.

he leaned in just enough that you could feel his breath against your ear, your whole body buzzing under the weight of his closeness. and god help you, you wanted more—more of his voice, more of the heat simmering beneath his words.

keep talking, baby, you thought, heart pounding in your chest. just keep talking.

[simonsrileyhusband]

nsfw:

more simon corrupting religious reader thoughts.

simon, who likes to pick you up from church. your pretty smile turning into a bitten lip, your cheeks heat up as the guilt of what his figure means to you makes your heart race.

simon, who talks to your friends and pastor. his hand never leaving your waist, his big frame making you look so tiny. your legs squeeze against eachother as his hand starts to rub circles on your hip.

simon, who cant wait to take you home. he just drives to a secluded area. making you strip on the back of his black truck.

simon, who bends you over his lap, punishing you for being so dirty. poor thing just got out of church and is soaking wet on a big mans lap);

simon, who mocks you and pounds into ylu even harder when he hears a little 'oh god~' come out of your mouth.

simon, who has your eyes filled with tears as he is fucking into you, your faces smashed into the window, where you could see the side of your church, big cross standing tall above it.

simon, who knows that all you need is him. his big arms around your body comforting you.

"shhh, i know love, i know. don't cry, im here..."

[yoichls]

c’mon baby, just a quick fuck!

⋆.˚ NSFW . wc. 919. timeskip ! ushijima wakatoshi x f!reader 、 size k!nk 、 mentions of breedin’ 、established relationships ( marriage ) 、 big dick ! toshi . . . x-x ! — 𝑹𝑼𝑩𝑰 : “ sillie lil’ thirst, celebration for mai haikyuu phase comin’ back tew haunt me . .”

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI is somebody who never paid much attention to intimacy . . . it wasn’t his thing, really. but with you . . his wife? he was willing to give you whatever you wanted. intimacy . . sexual or not with him is well thought of, you know your husband can be a little awkward sometimes . . but it’s not his fault. his large hands trailing downward towards the hem of your panties, his fingers curling inside your walls to ease your stress from time to time, he knew your body well. amidst his calm and collected demeanour, who would’ve known that . . ushijima wakatoshi himself would be the naughty type.

he couldn’t help it, he really couldn’t. those eyes of his, staring at you with both lust and love. he couldn’t count how many times he’d stare down at you and notice how big he was compared to you. during his games . . even when you stood in-front of him, he had the urge to grab at that pretty waist of yours, take you right then and there. he felt like a pervert, lusting over your height and size differences . . . wonderin’ how much of his cock you can handle. would it fit? would you be able to take it? he wondered how much cum would leak from your pretty pussy onto the soft sheets . . how pretty you’d look sprawled out on the bed, taking his length. he didn’t know the answer of those questions . . . but he was determined to find out himself. he was slowly losing himself day by day and it was all clear to you.

tonight, you saw a different side to him . . . a side you knew existed, but you never knew he would reveal it to you so soon. he wanted an answer to all those questions that lingered in his head so naughtily, he demanded answers. the feeling of your pussy gripping onto him for dear life sends shivers down his spine, ushijima’s heart raced . . . his breath hitching for a moment. when he feels you arch up against him, he grabs onto the waistband of your skirt and jerks you back against him harder, slamming himself deeper into you with each thrust. “fuck, fuck, fuck . . ." your husband growls, letting his bare chest brush against your back with each movement. ushijima was getting closer now, his muscles tense. he can feel his release building up inside him, threatening to burst and it hasn’t even been thirty minutes yet. “i . . . apologize, i can’t hold myself back anymore. . . ”

“fuck, ‘toshi your cock’s t—too big f’me !” you whined . . . your breathing grew heavy, your heart pounding against your chest. you stared right into his eyes, the fire in them matching your own. ushijima refused to put a stop to his thrusts . . . he didn’t stop, not even a second, that's how much he needed you. he’s not done with you yet. he smirked, panting heavily. as he pulled out, he took a few seconds to admire the drops of his cum leak out of you. he knew his cock was such a ridiculous size, but he loved how much it drove you wild. ushijima was even aware how intimidating his size could be, but his pretty little wife seemed to be handling it perfectly. the way you took him, accepting his roughness . . . your breasts bouncing from the harshness of his thrusts made his heart swell.

“you’ve got it, baby," he assured, positioning himself between your legs once more, easing the tip of his cock against your entrance, before slamming himself back inside . . . a grunt leaving his throat. “you can take it, sweet girl. i know you can.” ushijima bottomed out, letting out a contented groan . . . his hands gripping your hips tightly, savoring the velvety warmth enveloping him. “see how perfect you fit around me? it slid right in." he whispered, leaning down to nibble on her earlobe. your husband’s thrusts grew deeper and impatient, his cock sliding in and out of your wetness, whispering dirty nothings into your ear. the warm room was filled with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, his balls slapping against your ass every second, he was getting impatient . . . he wanted to cum once more, knock you up . . . give you a baby tonight. fuck, he’d like that.

ushijima’s breaths grew heavier, his hips slamming against your ass, driving into you with reckless abandon . . . he couldn’t help but growl as he felt another orgasm building. drool slipped from your mouth, your mind was completely out of it . . . hazy and filled with his cock. “s—so big, ‘toshi . . . so fuckin’ big.” ushijima chuckled, the sound was a mix of amusement and pride. "mmhm . . . but you’re taking me well, you don’t have to worry." he whispered, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he leaned in, his hands roaming your body with a hunger that mirrored his own. your bodies collided, the fire within your husband beginning to burn brighter, threatening to consume you both.

“let me hear you.” he panted, his voice thick with need. his fingers dug into your hips, the strength in his grasp a promise of the power he held over your smaller frame. shit, he really did love how small you were. “i want you to take all my essence, my love.” his free hand trailed up against your side, fingertips brushing against your breast, teasing the sensitive nipple through the thin fabric of your top. "i want to try making you a mother . . . fill you up ‘till you’re all full. you wouldn’t mind that . . . would you, baby?

© 𝒀𝑶𝑰𝑪𝑯𝑳𝑺 / 𝟔𝑮𝑼𝑴𝑰 2024. modifying 、translating 、sharing my works on other platforms 、or considering them as yours is strictly prohibited.

[rafecameronssl4t]

hey! could u do a rafe x reader with kinda the grumpy and sunshine/ mean to everyone but me trope? like the reader is super girly and a total sweetheart like wouldn’t hurt a fly and no one expected rafe to be able to pull her? maybe like other guys have made moves on her but for some reason she only wants him

Untouchable || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: THANK U FOR THE REQUEST!!!!! (the gif above is what I envision Rafe's appearance to be in this fic)

Warnings: none :)

Word count: 1,178

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

"Oh look, Rafe's here," Chelsea leans in to whisper to all of you girls. All heads turn to where she is subtly pointing. Rafe Cameron, with his buzzed hair and brooding expression, strides through the country club, his presence commanding attention.

You can't help but notice how your friends’ eyes widen, their expressions a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Kaycee sighs, shaking her head. "It's such a shame he's so grumpy and mean all the time. He's good-looking, but that attitude just ruins everything."

A few of the girls agree with her words, their eyes still on Rafe. You're about to respond when you catch Rafe’s gaze from across the club. His intense blue eyes lock onto yours, and to your surprise, he starts walking toward your table. Your friends' chatter fades into the background as he approaches, and you can feel the tension rising.

"Guys?" Kaycee whisper yells, her eyes darting nervously between you and Rafe. Before you can answer, Rafe is standing beside you. Without a word, he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close.

Your friends silently watch as he plants a soft kiss on your lips. The world seems to pause for a moment, the only sound your heart pounding in your chest. When he finally pulls away, he gives you a smile that’s reserved just for you. "Hey, babe," he says, his voice low and intimate. You smile back, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Hey, Rafe."

Your friends are staring, their mouths open in shock. Kaycee looks like she might faint, and Chelsea's eyes are so wide they might pop out of her head. You can practically hear their thoughts racing. "Hi ladies," Rafe nods his head to your friends as they all stumble across a response.

Rafe chuckles, clearly enjoying the reaction. "I'll see you later yeah?" he murmurs as you hum in response, giving you one last squeeze before heading to his own table. As he walks away, your friends erupt into a flurry of whispers and exclamations. "Are you serious?" Lily asks, her voice a mix of disbelief and excitement. "You and Rafe Cameron?"

You shrug, attempting to play it cool but failing miserably. "Yeah, we've been seeing each other for a while now." Kaycee shakes her head, still in shock. "I can't believe you didn't tell us! All this time, we thought you were just committed to your single streak."

Jada's eyes practically sparkle with excitement. "Not gonna lie, I've been rooting for you two since our days at Kook Academy." You laugh. Across the club, you see Rafe sitting with his friends, who are equally stunned by what they just saw. They keep glancing over at you, clearly trying to piece together how their friend who was notorious for not doing relationships end up with you.

Rafe catches your eye and gives you a wink, his usual grumpiness replaced with a rare, genuine smile as you smile back.

~

As Rafe walks away from your table, the whispers and gasps of your friends gradually fade into the background. You watch him stride confidently across the pool area, his usual brooding expression softened by a small, private smile. He reaches his table, where his friends are already in various states of shock and confusion.

Kelce is the first to speak, his voice a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "Dude, what was that?" He leans forward, his eyes wide with surprise. "You're telling me you bagged Y/n Y/l/n?"

Rafe drops into his seat and picks up his drink, taking a long sip before answering. "Yeah, we’ve been together for a while now." His tone is casual, but you can see the satisfaction in his eyes as he lets the news sink in.

Topper, who has been silent until now, finally finds his voice. "How the hell did that happen?" he asks, still staring at Rafe as if he's grown a second head. "She’s turned down just about everyone on this island who’s tried, and that includes me!"

Rafe chuckles, clearly enjoying the attention. "That's just cause you guys aren't me" he says with a cocky smirk. "Or maybe I just didn’t give up." The table falls silent for a moment as his friends process this new information. Then, one by one, they start to bombard him with questions.

"How long have you been seeing her?" asks Kelce, still trying to wrap his head around the idea. "Why didn’t you tell us?" adds Topper, his tone a mix of hurt and curiosity. "And how did you even get her to go out with you?" another friend chimes in.

Rafe leans back in his chair, his demeanor relaxed and confident. "We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months now," he begins, glancing over at you with a soft smile. "I didn’t tell you guys because we wanted to keep it private. Didn’t want everyone in our business, you know?"

Topper raises an eyebrow. "And how did you manage to win her over? She’s not exactly known for giving people a chance." Rafe laughs, a deep, genuine sound that surprises even himself. "Honestly, it wasn’t that hard," he admits with a grin.

"I had my eyes on her for a while. She’s smart and doesn’t put up with any bullshit. 'S what I like about her." He glances over at you again, mesmerised by how radiant you looked, giggling at something your friend said.

His friends exchange looks, a mix of admiration and incredulity on their faces. It’s clear they’re seeing a side of Rafe they never knew existed. "Wow, man," says Kelce, shaking his head with a grin. "I never thought I’d see the day when Rafe Cameron is all soft and in love." Rafe playfully rolls his eyes, "You guys are idiots."

Topper claps Rafe on the shoulder, a wide grin on his face. "Good for you, dude. Seriously. If anyone can handle your grumpy ass, it’s her." Rafe laughs again, the sound blending into the ambient noise of the country club. He glances back over at you, catching your eye once more. You smile at him, a warmth spreading through your chest as you see the genuine happiness in his eyes.

[uzurakis]

NEARLY C★UGHT IN THE ACT!

featuring: fushiguro megumi. itadori yuuji. gojo satoru. geto suguru. (characters are all aged up)

NSFW MDNI. fuck! ya almost got caught screwing . .

n. been in the drafts for way too long.. cz i needa clear my reqs but idc! i’ve been wanting to write this for the longest time. enjoy my lovelies <3

GOJO SATORU. “s-shit, how much i’ve missed this view,” gojo was sitting in his office desk, slighty pulling your hair to guide you to the rhythm he wanted. you felt yourself melting into him with his warm shaft in your mouth, ever soo big and too much for you, bobbing your head up and down.

just then, a sharp knock echoed through the room, startling you both. your heart raced as you instinctively tried to pull back from gojo. “s-satoru, we—“ his hand gripped your scalp more firmly than before, making you swallow his shaft until it hit the back of your throat. in other words, he didn’t fucking care. “just do your job, darling. and relax, they won’t come in.”

“even if they do come in, we’ll just say we were having a very hands-on discussion.”

GETO SUGURU. “i’m sorry, princess,” he whispered beside your ear as he hit you raw from behind, both pressed against each other in the dim light of a public restroom. his hands gently putting your hair to the side, “i just, ngh, need you so badly,” whilst his lips found yours again, silencing any further protest.

the sound of footsteps outside the door made you freeze, heart pounding in your chest as the door handle rattled. “someone’s out t-there,” you tried to say as you held back the moans. yet not only your heart was pounding like crazy, it seemed your boyfriend was also still pounding your walls despite the chance you two will get caught screwing in public.

“j-just a little longer,” he pleaded as the groans left his lips again. “i can’t get enough of you.”

ITADORI YUUJI. watching movies together was the original plan, until itadori’s cock twitched because you were sitting on his lap. your ass brushed against his bulge and that’s it. he couldn’t hold it any longer.

a split second later his boxers are on the floor, your panties pushed aside as he rocked your waist front and back. better than the movies, he thought, “i’m havin’ a nice view, baby.” you circled your hands on his shoulders when suddenly you heard a knock on the door. “shit,” itadori murmured as he panicked, slowing down the pace a bit. “i’ll handle this.”

“uh, 10 minutes! don’t come in!” he shouted deafeningly, you were certain that if the person still opened the door, they must have hearing problems to miss that loud shout. “see? problem solved. now, where were we?”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. with a frustrated groan, he hovered above you, laying your leg on one of his shoulders and pumping two digits in and out of your hole while he ran a hand through his hair. “why did you have to sneak in here? tsk,” a groan fell from his mouth, “you’re going to get us caught one of these days,” he grumbled, but his fingers playing around your pussy said otherwise.

“because i—ah,” you were the one squirming under his touch, “i-i wanted to be with you—“

“fushiguroo, are you there?” came the voice from the other side of the door. megumi sighed, his expression quickly shifting to one of annoyance. “busy!” he called out, forcing his other fingers over your throat to stop you from making any noise, and tried to keep his voice steady while fucking your insides. “idiot, just keep quiet, okay?”

@uzurakis

[thef1diary]

Dreamy Desire | C. Leclerc

Kinktober 1/11 ~ Somnophilia

Summary: Even though you were in deep sleep, Charles found you irresistible.

warnings: 18+ smut, somnophilia obvs, fingering, oral, unprotected sex

wc: 1.6k

kinktober masterlist

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

The steady rhythm of your breathing fills the room, a gentle sound that lulls Charles into a state of restless anticipation. Moonlight spills through the window, casting a silver glow across the bed where you lie, the comforter having slipped down to reveal more of your body. Your legs are slightly spread as you shifted around in your slumber, the hem of your night slip dress riding up, exposing the delicate fabric of your panties. 

He sits beside you, eyes tracing the delicate lines of your face, your slightly parted lips, down to your spread thighs. 

He knows he shouldn’t, knows that waiting for you to wake up is the right thing to do. But tonight, something inside him stirs more intensely than ever before. The way you lie there, so peaceful and unaware, ignites a desire in him that’s impossible to ignore. You’ve discussed this before, shared your desires and given your consent, but Charles hadn’t been tempted until now. It’s a trust he’s grateful for, an offer he’s careful to respect even as his pulse quickens with anticipation. 

Charles reaches out, fingertips brushing lightly against your cheek. Your skin is warm, soft, and he lets his hand linger, savouring the undisturbed contact. His breath catches as you shift slightly, your body responding to his touch even in deep sleep. It takes all of his self-control to keep his touch light, refraining from letting the bulge in his boxers make all the decisions. 

In the quiet of the room, his mind races with thoughts of you, of how much he loves you, desires you. A smirk plays on his lips as he realizes how utterly vulnerable you are, allowing him to ruin you in any way he chooses. 

His hand moves down, tracing the curve of your shoulder, then the length of your arm. He leans in, his breath warm against your neck, inhaling your subtle distinct scent. It’s intoxicating, this quiet intimacy. He presses a soft kiss just below your ear, barely more than a whisper against your skin. 

Your body reacts, a shiver running through you, and Charles freezes, heart pounding. But you don’t wake. Instead, you shift again, turning slightly towards him, lips parting in a sigh. The sound is like music to his ears, and he can’t help but smile. 

His hand continues its journey, removing the comforter completely before sliding his palm underneath your slip dress, lifting it higher. The warmth of your body against his palm sends a thrill through him. 

Unable to resist any longer, Charles leans in, his lips brushing against your inner thigh. After peppering a few kisses, he moves higher, his kisses growing bolder as he reaches the edge of your panties. He can feel the warmth of you, the heat radiating from your core as he spots the wet patch on the flimsy fabric. 

His hands slide under the hem of your dress, fingertips grazing the fabric of your panties before gently pulling them aside. The sight of you, so exposed and vulnerable, ignites a fire in him. He lowers his mouth to you, his breath warm against your skin, and begins to kiss and lick with a reverence that borders on worship.

You moan softly in your sleep, a sound that spurs him on. His tongue teases your sensitive folds, tasting you, savouring every moment. He knows your body, knows what you like, and he takes his time, enjoying the way you respond even in your unconscious state. 

Your hips start to move, a natural response to his ministrations, and he can’t help but smile against you. He slips two fingers inside your cunt, the slickness and heat pulling him in. He begins to move them in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue on your clit.

The soft sounds you make, the wet sound of your slick, the way your body reacts, it’s almost too much for him. He wants to wake you, to see your eyes filled with desire and love, but he can’t help but feel a tad bit selfish too, wanting to keep this moment for himself. 

Charles continues, his mouth and fingers working in tandem to bring you pleasure. You shift around, eyes still closed, and he feels you clenching around his fingers. He knows you’re close, so he stops. 

Removing his fingers and detaching his mouth from your clit, he pulls back, watching a string of spit connect to your pussy from his lips. He raises his fingers to his lips, lapping up your taste with his tongue. 

He watches as your chest rises and falls, knowing you’ve fallen into the depths of sleep again. He wanted you to wake up clenching around his cock, whining and begging as soon as you woke up, which was all you were good for anyways. Always begging for him, to stuff you up with his cock. Nothing else ran through your mind, and this time he was going to prove it by waking you in that manner. 

Spreading your thighs further, he shuffled up after discarding his boxers. He paused for a moment, wrapping his hand covered in your slick around his cock, moving it up and down as he admired your compliant state. 

Your hardened nipples were visible through the dress hiked up to your waist, your spread thighs and wet pussy was a sight for him, and him only. 

Charles takes his time, savouring the anticipation as he strokes himself, eyes locked on you. Your peaceful form is almost too much for him to bear. He loves you deeply, but in moments like these, the raw, primal desire takes over, and he can’t help but revel in it. 

He leans forward, positioning himself between your legs. He teases you, running his head up and down your slit, coating himself further in your slick. You twitch, hips moving on their own accord as he pushes inside with deliberate slowness. The tightness, the warmth, it’s all so perfect, and he has to bite back a groan. Your body welcomes him, even in sleep, and he watches as your face contorts slightly with pleasure. 

The feeling of you wrapped around him is intoxicating, and he takes a moment to control himself, not wanting to rush this. He starts to move, slow and deep, each thrust measured and deliberate. He can feel the tension building, knows you’re on the edge even in your sleep. 

Your eyes flutter open, a soft moan escaping your lips as the sensation pulls you from your slumber. You shift slightly, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, then into his hair, pulling him closer. The look in your eyes, that hazy mix of sleep and desire, is everything he hoped for. 

“Charles,” you whisper, your voice a breathy moan. “Please…”

“Shh, go back to sleep, chérie,” he mumbles, his lazy thrusts hoping to lull you back to sleep. 

You try to hold onto the pleasure, but the slow, deep rhythm of his movements is soothing, making it difficult to stay awake. Your hands move through his hair, a soft, instinctual gesture that makes him shiver. Charles’s eyes remain locked on yours, filled with an intensity that speaks volumes of his desire for you.

The feeling of him inside you, the warmth and fullness, is comforting and intoxicating. Your body reacts to him, hips moving in time with his gentle thrusts, but your eyelids grow heavy, the call of sleep too strong to resist.

Charles watches as you struggle to stay awake, a small smile playing on his lips. He knows how much you crave him, how much you need this, and it only fuels his desire to give you everything you want.

“That’s it, just relax,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “I’ve got you.”

Your grip in his hair loosens, your body melting into the mattress as you begin to drift off again. The sensation of him moving inside you, combined with the warmth of his body pressed against yours, lulls you further into the depths of sleep. 

He feels you clenching around him, a sign that your body is still very much aware of his presence even as your mind slips away. Charles’ movements remain steady, the slow and deep thrusts designed to keep you on the edge of consciousness. He watches you, captivated by the way you surrender to him, trusting him completely. 

As he feels your body beginning to build again towards release, he knows he’s close too. The slow, steady rhythm becomes a little more insistent, his own need becoming harder to control. He wants to feel you cum around him, to know that you’re as lost in this as he is. 

His hand moves between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it gently, knowing exactly how to push you over the edge. Your body tenses, your breathing hitches, and he can feel you getting closer and closer. 

He leans closer, whispering in your ear, “cum for me, mon amour.” 

The command, mixed with the pleasure he’s giving you, is enough to send you spiraling into bliss. Your body clenches around him, and a soft cry escapes your lips as you cum. 

The sensation of you tightening around him is too much for Charles. He thrusts deep one last time, his own release hitting him hard. He groans your name, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm as he spills inside you. 

As you both come down from the high, Charles kisses you softly, his lips lingering on yours. You nuzzle closer to him once he pulls back, wrapping your arms around him to keep him close. “You need to do that more often,” you say, your voice still laced with sleep. 

Charles chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Anything for you, chérie.”

With a final sigh of contentment, you drift back into a deep, peaceful sleep. Your dreams and reality blur together, the only tangible evidence of your dreamy desires becoming reality are the mingled traces of your arousal and his cum slowly leaking from your cunt onto the sheets. 

taglist: @cheer-bear-go-vroom @ggaslyp1 @nominsgirl @moll1701 @mrs-saturday @teamnovalak @sassy-chan @ruti26-11 @kennysimp101 @falling-feels-like-flying @laeblue @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bountychanti @savewaterdrinkvodka @cloud-55 @aarchiives @holylovercopsludge @black-fireproofs @lazydragonpeach @biancathecool @myownwritings @rebelatbay @ethereal0810 @leclercsluvs @01rrdbull @fallingforfalll2 @lilorose25

[purple-and-crows]

My newfound highly effective strat of dealing with crushing anxiety by throwing a more enjoyable anxiety over it: high speed synth music

[idkyetxoxo]

Aemond Targaryen - Embracing the Unexpected

Summary - Aemond and his wife navigate the fear, love, and uncertainty of new parenthood, discovering that the joy of new life is irresistible, even when it arrives as an unexpected set of multiple babies.

Pairing - Aemond Targaryen x reader

Warnings - Childbirth (brief)

Word count - 2482

Masterlist for Aemond • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

"You startled me," I gasped, my voice trembling as I felt a pair of hands trail softly across my bare shoulders. My heart raced, pounding in my chest, as I clung desperately to the discarded fabric of my gown.

"It's only me," Aemond murmured, his voice low and soothing. He pressed a gentle kiss to the nape of my neck, his hands gliding along my sides. 

I drew in a shaky breath, trying to calm myself. With a subtle wriggle, I slipped out of his embrace and stepped away, wrapping the nightgown more securely around myself before turning to face him.

His expression was a mixture of concern and sadness.

"What's the matter?" he asked softly as I made my way to the bed. I sat down, crossing my legs and began to braid my hair with methodical movements.

"Nothing," I replied, barely above a whisper. Aemond sat beside me, his fingers gently untangling the strands of my hair as he watched me with a worried gaze.

"Then why have you been keeping me at a distance these past few weeks?" he asked, his lips brushing against the side of my neck. 

I gripped the sheets tightly, my face averted as the flush of distress spread from my cheeks to the tips of my ears.

He pulled back, his eyes searching mine with a pained expression. 

"Am I repulsing you?" he asked, his voice thick with hurt. Before I could respond, he continued, "Do you no longer want me?"

I shook my head quickly, my heart aching at the thought of causing him such pain. I moved closer to him, desperate to reassure him. 

"No, it's not that at all. I promise," I said, my voice earnest. I could see the hurt in his eyes, and it made me feel even more unsettled.

"Aemond, it's just..." I started, the words tangling in my throat as I struggled to articulate my feelings. My mind raced, the weight of the truth pressing down on me until I couldn't hold it back any longer. 

"I'm with child," I blurted out, the confession leaving my lips before I could second-guess it.

His reaction was instant. His head snapped towards me, eye wide with shock. 

For a moment, his face lit up with joy, but as he registered my anxiety, that joy dimmed. The light in his expression faded, and he slowly stood from the bed, turning away from me as if to shield himself from what he feared might come next.

"Wait," I cried out, desperation seizing my heart as tears welled up in my eyes. The mere thought of him walking away from me, from us, was unbearable. "Please, don't leave."

His back remained turned, but his voice was sharp, carrying the weight of his wounded pride. 

"Does the thought of having a child with me cause such distress?" he asked, his words laced with bitterness. I shook my head, realizing too late that he couldn't see my silent denial.

"No, no, Aemond, it's not like that at all," I pleaded, my voice cracking under the strain of my emotions. "I'm just... afraid."

Finally, he turned around to face me, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. 

"Why are you afraid?" he asked, his voice softer now, though it was clear he was struggling to understand.

"I'm afraid that I won't be enough," I whispered, my deepest fears spilling out into the open. 

"That I'll fail you, that I'll fail our child. I'm terrified of what's to come, of not knowing how to be a mother, of not being able to protect our child from the dangers of this world and most of all, I'm afraid that you'll see me differently now, that I'll lose you in ways I can't even fathom."

Aemond's expression softened, and he took a step closer to me, reaching out to cup my face in his hands. 

"You're not going to lose me," he said, his voice steady and full of conviction. "We'll face this together, whatever comes. You're not alone in this, and I will be by your side every step of the way. We'll figure it out, I promise you."

Tears spilt over, and I leaned into his touch, finding comfort in the warmth of his hands. His words were a balm to my anxious heart, but the fear still lingered, a shadow that would take time to fully dispel. 

Eight months later, I found myself pacing the chamber, one hand pressed against my back, the other cradling my swollen belly. 

Each step was a struggle, my breaths coming in short, laboured gasps as the pain in my abdomen grew more intense. Every contraction felt like a wave crashing over me, leaving me trembling and weak.

I groaned, my forehead resting heavily against the bedpost as another contraction tore through me. My hair was matted to my forehead, damp with sweat, and my body ached under the immense strain. 

It felt as though I might burst from the pressure, the sheer force of it overwhelming me.

"Where is Aemond? Where is he?" I gasped, my voice tinged with desperation as I scanned the room. 

Faces blurred around me, the maids and midwives moving quickly, but none of them were the ones I needed to see.

"The father's presence is not customary during the birth," the maester explained calmly, though his words were drowned out by the scream that erupted from my lips. 

The pain was unbearable, and the thought of going through this without Aemond made it worse.

"I want Aemond!" I cried out, pushing away the handmaidens who were attempting to soothe me. Their gentle hands and soft words were of no comfort, only he could provide that.

As if summoned by my plea, the door to the chamber burst open, and Aemond rushed in, his face pale with worry. Without a moment's hesitation, he ran to my side, his arms encircling me in a protective embrace.

"Aemond, please, stay with me. I can't do this alone," I sobbed, clutching at him as if he were my lifeline.

"My prince," the maester began, his voice tinged with disapproval, "it is not customary for the father to be present—"

"I do not care what is customary," Aemond snapped, his voice steely with resolve. "If my wife wants me to stay, I will stay."

He guided me toward the bed, his hands gentle but firm as he helped me lie down. Another scream tore from my throat, the pain intensifying as my body prepared for the final stage of labour. 

Aemond held my hand tightly, his presence grounding me amid the chaos.

"You're doing so well," he murmured, his lips brushing against my temple as he tried to soothe me. "I'm here, love. I'm not going anywhere."

Each contraction came with a force that seemed to split me in two. Time lost all meaning as I focused solely on Aemond's steady presence.

The pain was blinding, but knowing he was there kept me from being completely consumed by it.

Minutes stretched into hours, each moment a battle as my body worked tirelessly to bring our child or so we thought into the world. Aemond never wavered, his hands steady on mine, his words a constant source of comfort. 

When I felt I could push no more, when I was certain I had nothing left to give, his voice would pull me back, reminding me that I was not alone.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the maester's voice broke through the haze of pain. 

"The babe is crowning," he announced, and I gasped, the realization that the end was near bringing a rush of determination.

"Just a little more," Aemond whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You're almost there."

With a final, desperate push, I felt a release, and the sound of a baby's cry filled the room. Tears welled up in my eyes as I collapsed against the pillows, utterly exhausted but relieved beyond measure.

"It's a boy," the maester announced, placing the squirming, crying infant in Aemond's arms. His face was a mixture of awe and disbelief as he looked down at our son, and then back at me.

"You did it," he whispered, his voice filled with pride.

Before I could respond, another contraction hit, more intense than before. My eyes widened in shock, and I looked at Aemond, fear creeping back into my heart. 

"There's another one," I gasped, my hand gripping his with renewed urgency.

The maester's expression shifted from concern to realization. "There's another babe," he confirmed, moving quickly to assist with the unexpected second birth.

Aemond's eyes were wide with shock, but he quickly regained his composure, focusing entirely on me. 

"You can do this," he said, his voice steady. "I'm right here with you."

The second labour was just as intense, but somehow, knowing what to expect made it more bearable. Aemond's hand never left mine, his voice guiding me through each agonizing contraction. After what felt like an eternity, a second cry filled the room.

"It's another boy," the maester said, handing the newborn to a waiting handmaiden to clean and wrap.

Aemond's eye was shining with tears as he looked between our two sons.

Before I could catch my breath, a sharp pain tore through me once more, I felt as though my body was being torn apart.. My heart raced, panic rising as I realized there was yet another child.

The maester's expression turned serious as he realized the truth. "Triplets," he said, a mix of amazement and concern in his voice. "This will be the last one."

Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm me, but Aemond's presence kept me from sinking into despair. 

"You're almost there," he whispered, his voice strained with emotion. "Just one more, love. You can do this."

With every ounce of strength I had left, I pushed through the final wave of pain. The third birth was the hardest, with my body protesting the entire way, but finally, mercifully, it was over. 

The last cry filled the room, softer and more delicate than the others.

"It's a girl," the maester announced, his tone gentler now, as he carefully swaddled our daughter.

Aemond was speechless, his eye wide with disbelief and joy as he looked at the three tiny bundles in the hands of the midwives. "Three..." he whispered as if he couldn't quite believe it. "We have three."

I collapsed back onto the pillows, utterly spent but filled with a profound sense of love and accomplishment. Tears streamed down my face as Aemond placed our daughter in my arms, her tiny features perfect and serene.

He sat beside me, holding our two sons, his expression one of utter devotion. "You did it," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You brought them into the world."

Despite the exhaustion, despite the pain, nothing could overshadow the overwhelming joy of that moment.

A couple of hours passed in a haze of exhaustion and bliss. The room, once filled with the frantic energy of childbirth, had quieted into a peaceful sanctuary. 

The three tiny bundles nestled in our arms were the centre of our world, their soft breaths and occasional whimpers the only sounds breaking the stillness.

Aemond sat beside me on the bed, cradling our two sons, while our daughter rested against my chest. I marvelled at their delicate features, the softness of their skin, and the way they seemed to fit perfectly into our arms. 

It was overwhelming to think that just hours ago, they had been growing inside me, and now they were here each a tiny miracle.

The door creaked open, and I looked up to see Alicent entering the chamber. Her face, usually so composed and regal, softened as she took in the sight before her. 

Her eyes shone with a mixture of pride and love as she approached the bed, her steps careful and measured.

"Aemond," she greeted her son, her voice warm with affection. "And how are you, my dear?" she asked, turning to me with a smile that reached her eyes.

"Tired, but happy," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, still feeling the lingering exhaustion from the ordeal.

Alicent's gaze shifted to the three babes, her expression one of awe. She reached out to gently stroke the cheek of our daughter, her fingers tender and light. 

"They're beautiful," she said softly, her voice filled with admiration. "Three little blessings. I don't think I've ever seen anything so perfect."

I smiled, my heart swelling with pride and joy. 

"They are," I agreed, my voice catching in my throat as I looked down at our daughter. The love I felt for them was overwhelming, almost too much to contain.

Alicent moved her gaze to the two boys in Aemond's arms, her smile deepening as she reached out to touch their tiny hands. 

"Have you decided on names?" she asked, her tone gentle as she looked between us.

Aemond and I exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between us. We had spent countless nights talking about names, but now that they were here, the decision felt weightier, more significant.

Finally, Aemond spoke, his voice soft yet steady. "We have," he said, his eyes meeting his mother's. "Our daughter will be named Viserra,"

Alicent's eyes softened further, her smile widening. "Viserra," she repeated, the name rolling off her tongue with reverence. "A beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

"And our sons," I added, my voice trembling with emotion, "will be named Vaegon and Viserion."

Alicent's eyes flickered with recognition, and she nodded approvingly. "Vaegon and Viserion," she echoed, her voice filled with pride. "Strong names for strong boys. They will carry them well."

She looked between us, her expression one of deep affection and pride. "You have chosen well," she said, her voice filled with warmth.

Alicent leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. 

"I am so proud of you both," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You have brought such light into this world, and I know you will be wonderful parents."

She stepped back, giving us a moment of privacy, her eyes lingering on the three tiny babes who had already stolen all our hearts. 

"Rest now," she said, her voice tender. "You have earned it and when you're ready, we will celebrate these new additions to our family."

As she left the room, the warmth of her presence lingered, filling the chamber with a sense of peace and fulfilment. Aemond looked at me, his face filled with love and gratitude. 

"Viserra, Vaegon, and Viserion," he repeated softly as if the names were a prayer, a promise for the future.

I nodded, smiling through my tears as I looked down at our children. "They're perfect," I whispered, my heart swelling with love for the tiny lives we had brought into the world.

Aemond leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, his hand resting gently on our daughter's back. 

As we sat there, surrounded by the quiet strength of our love and the promise of our future, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together.

A/n -��I swear thinking of the names took longer than writing the whole thing literally had to hop onto reddit.

Aemond tag list - @darylandbethfanforever9 @lessdepressy

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　SAFEWORD

matt sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Matt comes home angry after a stressful day and takes it out on Y/N, making her use her safeword.

WARNING: SMUT ‼️ explicit language, p in v, Mean!Matt, rough sex, slight dumbification/degradation, pet names, hair pulling, use of safeword, crying.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Matt- please, I can't-" Y/N's body trembled under Matt's relentless touch, her breath hitching in her throat as waves of pleasure and pain intertwined in a cruel dance that had been going on for hours.

Matt had been different tonight; more intense, more demanding, more relentless. But beneath the surface, Y/N could sense the weight of something darker, something that had driven him to this edge.

He had returned from his day full of meetings with tension radiating from every pore, his usual warmth replaced with an icy determination that made Y/N’s heart race with equal parts fear and excitement.

She couldn't lie and say that she didn't loved how he pushed her, how he could make her body sing in ways no one else ever had, but tonight, he was pushing her beyond her limits. His hands were rougher, his words sharper, filled with a biting edge of degradation that made her cheeks flush with shame and arousal.

"Fuck, you’re such a dirty little slut." Matt growled, his voice rough, almost feral as he pressed her face into the mattress, his grip on her hips tight enough to bruise. "Look at you, so fucking needy. Is this all you’re good for? Spreading your legs and taking my cock?"

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, the sting of his words cutting deep. They had always enjoyed playing on the edge of roughness, pushing each other to the brink, but at that moment there was an edge to Matt’s tone that was darker, more vicious, and it scared her as much as it turned her on.

"Matt-" She gasped loudly, feeling his tip brushing against her most sensitive spot.

"Yeah, baby? You like being used like this, don’t you?" Matt continued, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. "Such a fucking whore, taking everything I give you, begging for more."

Tears pricked at the corners of Y/N’s eyes, her body barely keeping up with the intensity of his thrusts, each one sending shockwaves through her body, pushing her further and further into a headspace where all she could feel was him; his roughness, his anger, his need.

Her mind was a chaotic mess of conflicting emotions. She adored the way Matt had the power to dominate her, the way he could take control and make her feel small, vulnerable, but safe.

But now, there was no safety net, no gentle undertone to his words, no soft looks, or tender touches to remind her that this was just play. It felt real - too real - and it terrified her. She was on the verge of tears, her body betraying her as it responded to his cruel words and rough touch with mindless, desperate arousal.

"Answer me." Matt snarled, his hand fisting in her hair and yanking her head back, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, burning with an intensity that made her stomach twist with a mixture of fear and need. "Tell me what you are. Tell me how much you fucking love this."

"I-I love it." Y/N stammered, her voice shaky, barely audible as she tried to keep up with the relentless pace he had set, shuddering. "I love being your s-slut, Matt. Please..."

"Please, what?" He demanded, interrupting her, his lips curling into a cruel smirk as he watched her struggle beneath him. "Please fuck you harder? Is this not enough?"

Her mind was spinning, her thoughts tangled in the web of humiliation and desire he had woven around her. She had always trusted Matt, trusted that he knew her limits. But in that moment, she could see no sign of the man who held her after, who whispered sweet words of love and reassurance.

"You’re so fucking pathetic, doll." Matt muttered in a mockery tone, his hand traveling around her stomach, feeling a small bulge below his palm. A smirk stretched acros his lips before he pressed his hand down on her lower abdomen, making her gasp as the sensation of his cock filling her completely overwhelmed her. "Look at that, dove. You’re so fucking full of me, you can see it, yeah?"

Y/N couldn’t stop the tears that slipped down her cheeks, a whimper escaping from her throat and her body trembling with a mixture of pleasure and pain, her mind reeling from the intensity of it all. She could feel herself breaking, her mind teetering on the edge of something dark and terrifying. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

Her lower body tried to react for itself, moving relentlessly while trying to move away from his hands, away from his touch. But Matt didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. He was lost in his own world, driven by something darker than either of them had ever encountered in their time together.

"Hmm, making me feel s'good, 'were only made for that... you’re not even good for anything else, are you? Just a tight little cunt for me to fuck until I’m so satisfied and-"

"Red." She gasped out, interrupting his sentence abruptly, her voice breaking as the safe word slipped past her lips. "Red, Matt. Please... stop. Please-"

As Y/N's shout registered inside his mind, Matt’s entire world ground to a halt. The haze of anger and lust that had clouded his mind evaporated in an instant, leaving him feeling cold and hollow. He stilled immediately, his breath catching in his throat as he processed what she had just said. The safeword; the one word they had agreed upon to stop everything if it ever became too much. And she had used it.

A wave of dread washed over him as he realized what he had done. He had pushed her too far, been too rough, and now she was lying beneath him, trembling, with tears streaming down her angel face. The guilt was immediate and overwhelming, threatening to choke him as he remained still inside her, his body frozen in place.

"Fuck." Matt whispered, his voice shaking with a mixture of fear and remorse.

He wanted to pull out immediately, to give her the space she needed, but he knew that would only cause her more pain. Instead, he took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him, and began to gently caress her body, his hands trembling as they moved over her tense and sore muscles.

"Shh, baby, I’m here." He murmured, his voice cracking as he started to stroke her back and shoulders, feeling the tight knots of tension beneath his fingertips.

He could see how red and irritated her skin was, the marks left by his rough hands and relentless pace, and it made him feel like the worst kind of monster. He wanted to cry, the weight of what he had done crushing him, but he held it together for her. She needed him to be strong now, to take care of her, and that was the least he could do after everything.

"I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N." Matt whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he continued to gently rub her sides, his hands gliding over her warm, tender skin. He pressed soft, apologetic kisses to her shoulder, feeling the salt of her sweat mingling with his lips. "I didn’t mean to hurt you, dove. I never wanted to push you this far. Please forgive me. I’m so, so sorry."

Y/N’s body was still trembling, her breath coming in shaky gasps as she tried to come down from the intense high he had forced her into. The feel of his hands on her, so gentle now, so careful, was a stark contrast to the brutal pace he had set before, and it was both soothing and heartbreaking at the same time. She could hear the pain in his voice, the guilt that was eating away at him, and despite everything, she wanted to reassure him that she was okay, that they were okay.

Matt’s hands continued their slow, tender exploration of her body, trying to soothe the aches and pains he had caused. He traced the lines of her muscles, feeling the tension slowly start to ebb away as she relaxed under his touch, though her body still quivered with the aftershocks. His heart ached as he observed her state, and he couldn’t stop the endless stream of apologies that flowed from his lips nonstop.

"I’m gonna slip out now, okay?" He whispered, his voice trembling as he pressed another soft kiss to her temple. He waited for her response, needing her to give him the okay before he made a move.

When she finally nodded, her eyes still closed, he took a deep breath and began to withdraw from her, moving as slowly and gently as possible. Despite his care, Y/N hissed in pain as he pulled out, her body still too sensitive, too raw from the hours of overstimulation. The sound made his heart shatter all over again, and he felt a fresh wave of guilt crash over him, his stomach twisting with self-loathing.

"Shit, I know, I know... I’m sorry, dove." He choked out, his voice barely above a whisper as he finally freed himself from her body, feeling the absence of her warmth immediately. "I’m so fucking sorry."

"It's alright. Just... Can you hold me? Please?" Her voice sounded so vulnerable, so small.

"Of course! Of course, sweetheart." Matt rushed his answer, laying by her side. He reached for her, pulling her into his arms and holding her close, his heart breaking at the way she winced as she shifted against him.

Y/N nestled into his chest, her body still trembling but beginning to calm as she felt his arms around her, his strong embrace a comfort after the storm. She could hear his heartbeat, fast and erratic beneath her ear, and she knew he was just as shaken as she was. Her own tears had slowed, though her eyes still burned with the remnants of the emotions he had dragged out of her.

"It’s okay." She whispered, her voice hoarse from the intensity of their session. "It’s okay, Matt."

But it wasn’t okay, not for Matt. He didn't know how she could say that when he, himself, couldn’t forgive himself for pushing her to the point where she had to use their safe word, where he had hurt her so badly that she had to stop him. The guilt gnawed at him, and he held her even tighter, as if he could somehow make up for the damage he had done by never letting go.

"I don't deserve you." He whispered again, his voice breaking as he buried his face in her hair, his body shaking with the force of his feelings. "I never wanted to hurt you, baby. Please, please, can you forgive me, angel?"

Y/N could feel the weight of his guilt pressing down on him, the way his body trembled with the effort to hold back his own tears, and it broke her heart. She knew he hadn’t meant to hurt her, knew that he had lost control in the heat of the moment, but she also knew that she needed to help him understand that she didn’t hate him for it; that she still loved him, and that they could get through this together.

"I forgive you." She whispered, her voice soft but firm as she lifted her head to look at him, her hand coming up to cup his cheek as if he was her most precious thing. "I know you didn’t mean it, Matt. We are okay. I’m okay. I promise."

Matt looked down at her, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, and he could see the truth in her gaze. She wasn’t angry with him, wasn’t pulling away from him. She was still here, still in his arms, and that was enough to start mending the cracks that had formed in his heart.

"Thank you." He whispered, his voice full of gratitude and love as he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, his hands stroking her hair, her back, anything he could touch to reassure himself that she was still with him. "I love you so fucking much, Y/N. I’ll never let it get like that again, I promise."

"I know you won’t." Y/N whispered back, her voice full of conviction as she curled into him, seeking the comfort and safety of his embrace. "I trust you, Matt. With my life."

He held her like that for what felt like hours, the two of them wrapped up in each other as the intensity of the night slowly began to fade, leaving only the love they shared.

Matt continued to murmur soft apologies and words of love, his hands never stopping their soothing motions as he tried to make up for the pain he had caused. And gradually, as the night wore on and the exhaustion of their emotional and physical ordeal set in, Y/N’s eyes began to drift closed, her body finally relaxing completely in his arms.

Matt felt her breathing even out, her body going limp against him as sleep claimed her, and only then did he allow himself to relax, the tension he had been holding onto finally slipping away. He pressed a final, tender kiss to her forehead, his heart swelling with love for the woman in his arms, and whispered one last apology before he too succumbed to the pull of sleep, his arms wrapped protectively around her as they drifted off together.

[strcwbrryklss]

୨୧﹕ forgive me .ᐟ oneshot

pairing ; father charlie mayhew x fem!reader contains ; tension , smut ( oral m receiving ) a/n ; i rewatched fleabag season two and HAD to write this for my own sake ( also havent proofread this,, so just ignore any mistakes pls. summary ; it has been 160 days since your last confession.

the soft hum of hymns filled the stone walls of the church, echoing through the vast, candlelit space. the congregation sat quietly, hands folded in prayer or resting on their laps, their eyes fixed on the alter.

the heavy scent of incense hung in the air, weaving between the polished wooden pews, where you sat toward the back, trying to focus on the words of the sermon. the light from the stained glass windows poured in, casting delicate hues of red, blue, and gold across the congregation, illuminating the man at the front of the church.

father charlie.

your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at him, your fingers nervously gripping the edge of the pew. you had tried to stop coming to mass, but something always drew you back here—drew you back to him. each week, you told yourself it would be different. you would listen to the sermon, find solace in his words, and leave without this gnawing ache in your chest.

but it never worked.

father charlie stood at the altar, the bible held firmly in his hands as he delivered his message, his voice deep and smooth, filling the grand space with a quiet authority. his tone was soft, but it held power, a magnetic pull that kept everyone’s attention on him. but while the others listened intently to the words of faith, of virtue and devotion, your mind was far from holy thoughts.

your eyes traced the lines of his jaw, the way the sunlight caught in his brown hair, making the strands shine beneath the dim lighting of the cathedral. his features were sharp but kind, his strong brows furrowed in concentration as he spoke about resisting the temptations of the flesh.

temptation.

the word reverberated through you, sending a jolt of heat to your core. temptation, the feeling you knew far too well. father charlie’s hands moved as he gestured lightly with his sermon, and you found yourself imagining those hands on you, instead of the bible. you swallowed hard, pulse quickening as your thoughts drifted to places you knew they shouldn’t go, especially here — especially with him.

he was the very definition of unattainable, a man sworn to a life of celibacy, of purity. and yet, you couldn’t stop the thoughts that rushed through your mind every time you looked at him. every sunday, you sat in the same pew, feeling that same magnetic pull toward him, a pull you couldn’t explain and couldn’t resist.

his robes hung loosely on his tall, lean frame, the fabric shifting with each subtle movement he made. beneath them, you knew there was something stronger, something more human than the holy image he portrayed. and the thought of that made your stomach twist with desire.

you could barely breathe, the church suddenly feeling too warm, too confined. you bit your lip, eyes darting to the floor as you tried to steady your racing thoughts. this was wrong. so wrong. but you couldn’t help it. every word that came from his lips only seemed to make it worse, sending your mind spiraling deeper into a fantasy you had tried so hard to bury.

you imagined it so clearly now — being alone with him after the congregation had gone. the church would be empty, the candles burning low, the flickering flames casting long shadows along the stone walls. you would step toward him, heart pounding, and when your hand brushed his, you’d feel the heat of his skin, the tension between you palpable. he would hesitate, of course. his vows, his faith — they would hold him back for a moment. but then, in the quiet of the empty church, his restraint would finally break.

your pulse raced as the image flashed vividly in your mind: his hands on you, pulling you close, his lips crashing into yours with all the pent-up passion he had kept locked away for so long. the forbidden thrill of it sent a shiver down your spine, your breath coming faster as you quickly glanced back up at him, half-expecting to see him watching you, knowing your every sinful thought.

but he wasn’t. father charlie’s gaze was still fixed on the congregation, his words steady as he spoke about virtue, about control.

you looked across the church, towards one of the many paintings of god, his expression seeming almost disappointed. you felt a flush of guilt, heat rising to your cheeks. how could you sit here, in a place meant for worship, and think these things? how could you look at him — father charlie — and imagine him like that? it was wrong. but that only seemed to make the ache in your chest grow stronger, the desire burning hotter with each passing moment.

the service was drawing to a close, and your heart pounded as you realised you would soon have to face him. father charlie always stood at the door after mass, offering a handshake and a few kind words to each person who passed. every week, that brief moment of contact set your skin on fire, leaving you wanting more.

and then you saw him — father charlie, standing by the entrance, his eyes warm and kind as he greeted the parishioners. you swallowed hard, heart racing as you approached. his gaze shifted to you, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to blur at the edges, leaving only the two of you.

"god bless you, y/n" father charlie said softly, his voice sending a shiver down your spine as his hand extended toward yours.

you hesitated for the briefest moment, your breath catching in your throat as your hand slipped into his. his grip was firm but gentle, the warmth of his skin sending a spark of electricity through you. you looked up into his eyes, searching for… something. some sign that he could feel the same pull, the same tension that had been building between you for months. but his expression was as serene as ever, his smile kind and distant.

"thank you, father," you murmured, your voice barely audible as you let go of his hand, your fingers tingling where they had touched him, before turning around to leave the sacred building. however, you stopped in your tracks.

turning towards him, you spoke timidly, "actually, father.."

as you approached, father charlie glanced up and saw you, his warm smile instantly making your heart skip a beat. his dark eyes met yours, and you felt that familiar pull, a flutter in your stomach that made your knees weak.

"yes?," he responded kindly, his voice a calm, steady presence that filled the space between you.

"father," you began, your voice shaking slightly as you stepped closer. "i was wondering if… there’s any chance i could confess later?"

there. you’d said it. the words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you were certain he could see right through you — into your mind, your thoughts, your desires. you tried to keep your expression neutral, but the tension coiled in your chest made it nearly impossible to hide how nervous you were.

father charlie’s smile softened, a gentle, almost unreadable look crossing his face as he studied you. he took a small step closer, lowering his voice slightly as if sensing the weight of what you were carrying. "of course," he said, his tone compassionate, "confession is always available for those who seek it. Would you like to meet later this afternoon?"

the way he said it — just us — made your stomach flip. you nodded, unable to fully trust your voice at the moment. your throat felt tight, your thoughts tangled. "yes. that would be… good."

his gaze lingered on you for just a moment longer, his eyes holding yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. there was nothing inappropriate about it, nothing overt, and yet you couldn’t help but feel as if there was something deeper there, hidden beneath the surface of his composed expression. you tried to ignore the way your body reacted to it, the way your skin seemed to burn with the need for more than just words.

"come by around eight," he said, his voice soft but firm, as if he was giving you permission to unburden yourself in a way you hadn’t before. "we can speak privately in the confessional."

your heart raced as he said it, the reality of what you were asking for sinking in. it wasn’t just confession — not for you. It was a way to be close to him, a way to sit in that small, private space, separated only by the thin barrier of the confessional screen. the idea of it — of being so close, alone, with him — made your chest tighten with anticipation.

you swallowed hard, nodding again. "thank you, father," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

he gave you one last kind, reassuring smile before you turned to leave, the echo of his words still ringing in your ears as you made your way toward the exit. as you stepped out into the cool air, your body still tingling with the thought of what was to come, your mind raced. confession wasn’t supposed to feel like this — like a secret thrill, a forbidden opportunity. but that’s exactly how it felt.

and it wasn’t just the confession itself. it was him. the way he carried himself with such calm authority, the way his voice seemed to wrap around you, pulling you deeper into your thoughts. you had tried to fight it, tried to deny it, but there was no use anymore.

you wanted him.

by the time the clock struck eight, you found yourself back at the church, your heart racing as you made your way inside. the church was mostly empty now, the quiet stillness of the afternoon wrapping around you like a heavy blanket. you could hear your own footsteps echoing softly as you walked down the aisle toward the confessional booth.

you hesitated for just a moment before stepping inside, the small, intimate space feeling even smaller than usual. the soft rustle of father charlie’s robes reached your ears as he entered the adjacent booth, and your breath hitched in your throat. the thin screen between you offered a sense of privacy, but it did nothing to stop the electricity that buzzed in the air.

"whenever you’re ready," came his voice, low and soothing, sending a shiver through you.

your mind raced, the words you had rehearsed suddenly seeming inadequate. how could you confess these feelings to him? How could you possibly admit that the sin you carried was him? the thought alone made your throat tighten, but you knew you couldn’t back out now.

"forgive me, father, for i have sinned…" you began, your voice shaky, barely more than a whisper, "it has been 160 days since my last confession"

you weren’t sure how you were going to get through this confession, but one thing was certain — the desire that burned inside you wasn’t something that could be easily absolved.

you hesitated, grappling with the words that felt so heavy on your tongue. "i've been having… thoughts," you started, feeling your cheeks flush. "sinful thoughts that i know i shouldn’t be having."

"sinful thoughts about someone?" he asked, his voice a mixture of curiosity and caution.

"yes," you admitted, heat creeping up your cheeks. "someone i shouldn’t be thinking about. i know it’s wrong, but i can’t help it."

"tell me more," father charlie encouraged, his tone gentle but firm, as if he could sense the struggle within you.

"it’s... complicated,” you continued, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach. "i’ve been trying to push these feelings away, but every time i see him, it’s like i’m drawn to him in a way i know isn’t right."

"why do you believe these feelings are wrong?” he asked, and you could hear the slightest hint of tension in his voice, a challenge that made your heart race.

"because he’s... celibate,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "and i shouldn’t feel this way about him. but i do."

the silence that followed was deafening. you could almost hear the clock ticking, each second feeling like an eternity. you held your breath, waiting for his response, feeling the heat of your confession hang in the air between you, "i don't know what to do, father. these thoughts won't go away"

the scent of incense swirled around you like a comforting yet suffocating blanket. you could hear the soft rustle of the priest’s robes on the other side of the screen. he took a deep breath.

"kneel"

the unexpected command took you by surprise. your heart raced at the thought, a mix of anxiety and anticipation flooding your senses. "kneel?" you echoed, trying to process his words.

"i want you to kneel."

you hesitated for just a moment, but something in his voice compelled you to comply. slowly, you knelt before the screen, feeling the coolness of the floor beneath your knees. your heart raced, each beat echoing in your ears as you sensed the shift in the air around you.

the curtain opened slightly, and father charlie stepped into view, his expression unreadable. the light from the candle illuminated his features, and for a moment, you were taken aback by the intensity in his gaze. there was a hunger there, a spark that made your pulse quicken.

father charlie looked down at you, bringing his hand down to your chin and tilting your head upwards to look him in the eyes. as the moment hung in the air, your heart raced, a wild drumbeat echoing in your ears. you could feel the heat radiating between you both, a magnetic pull that left you breathless. anticipation coursed through your veins, mingling with a desperate thrill that made your pulse quicken.

unexpectedly, he leaned down, stopping only inches away from your lips, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. you looked down at father charlie's parted lips, before looking back up at his eyes, glistening in the candlelight. your thoughts raced, much more sinful than they were before.

and just like that, father charlie closed the gap between you in a slow but passionate kiss. it felt as if you were breathing each other's air, your fingers moving up and tracing his arm. he then pulled away. you almost followed him, desperate for more, but you couldn't.

looking up at him, your heart raced, a needy look in your eyes.

the sound of father charlie unbuckling his belt rang through the church; anyone who walks in would know what was happening. but you didn't care.

he unzipped his pants before pulling them down, just past his underwear, the thin fabric revealing his large bulge. your was mouth already salivating at the thought of it. father charlie looked down at you with a nod, giving you permission.

your fingers made their way towards his waistband, slowly curling underneath his clothing before slowly pulling them down, just enough to reveal his erection.

gasping slightly at the size of him, you hesitated, your heart quickening.

father charlie moved his hand to the back of your head, urging you.

you couldn't wait any longer. you took deep breath before licking his tip, the taste of his pre-cum giving you the need for more.

desperately, your mouth took as much of him as it could, causing him to let out a soft moan as his tip touched the back of your throat. you looked up at him. the sight of him looking down at you with so much lust, so much greed in his eyes caused your stomach to flutter.

he grabbed onto the back of your hair, lightly pushing you back and forth before picking up momentum. father charlie threw his head back in pleasure, before looking into your eyes once again.

you moaned as the pace grew faster, causing his eyebrows to furrow at the vibration. and with that, he released, the warmth of it running down your throat.

looking up at him with admiration, he smiled slightly.

you knew this wasn't the last time.

[greengoblinswifey]

Temple— Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— they always say “your body is a temple” and boy is nicholas’ body a temple you love to climb and worship.

warnings— PURE SMUT. fingering, hand job, oral(m receiving), unprotected sex, mirror play, spit kink, praise kink, degrading kink, body worship, ass slapping, choking, creampie, daddy kink, breeding kink, cum eating, rough sex, aftercare, fluff.

a/n— ovulating and wrote this based on these pictures because he looks so good, ugh, i NEED him. (not prof read)

You were wandering the aisles of your favorite boutique, surrounded by the chatter of other shoppers. Just as you picked up a cute dress, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You fished it out, expecting a simple text, but what you saw made your breath hitch and your pussy throb.

Nicholas had sent you a picture of himself shirtless, standing in his bathroom with the light cascading down his chiseled abs, his hair slightly damp and tousled and then one with the hat you gifted him on. He looked incredible, his physique had transformed since you first started dating for his new roles, becoming more defined and muscular, and it left you utterly speechless.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip as heat pooled in your core. God, he looks good. You remembered when you first met him, he was charming and sweet, and you loved him just as he was then. But this new version of him? It ignited something deep within you. It was as if every sculpted muscle was begging for your attention, and all you could think about was how much you needed him inside you, pounding you.

The dress you were holding suddenly felt heavier as you clutched it tighter, trying to maintain your composure in the middle of the store. Your thighs clenched instinctively, and you could feel the flush creeping up your cheeks. How was it possible for someone to look that good? You found yourself blushing, desperately trying to focus on the price tags in front of you, but your mind was racing with thoughts of him.

You quickly typed back, your fingers trembling as you tried to keep it casual. “Wow, what are you trying to do to me?” You hit send, your heart racing with anticipation. He was always playful, but this felt different, this felt more personal, more intimate.

As you made your way to the cash register, you could still see him in your mind, his body the definition of perfection. You swiped his card without a second thought, the thrill of using his money adding to your excitement. If only he were here right now. You imagined him behind you, his hands resting on your hips, whispering sweet nothings as you paid.

Your thoughts swirled with desire, longing to feel his warmth against your skin, to wrap your arms around him and pull him in close. His body was a temple, you thought, it was a holy site you craved to explore.

With a final glance at the dress in your hands, you decided to head home, your mind set on what would happen once you got there. You needed him, and you could already envision the fire igniting between you two as soon as you walked through the door.

As you rushed through the front door, adrenaline surged through you. You barely took the time to drop your shopping bags before you heard the unmistakable sound of the shower turning off.

You quietly made your way down the hallway, the steam still lingering in the air, and as you approached the bathroom, you caught a glimpse of him stepping out, droplets of water glistening on his perfectly chiseled body. Nicholas looked like a god, one you craved to worship, his muscles taut and glistening under the dim light, every curve and contour accentuated.

You leaned against the doorframe, mesmerized, your breath catching in your throat. This was everything you’d imagined and more. He dried himself off with a towel, completely unaware of your presence, and for a moment, you relished the view, every single inch of him was a work of art.

But you were done watching. The heat radiating from your core was too strong to ignore, and all rational thoughts slipped away. Without a second thought, you slipped out of your clothes, leaving yourself bare and vulnerable in the dim light.

The chill of the air contrasted sharply with the heat building inside you, but it only fueled your desire further. You stepped into the bathroom, your heart pounding, and when he finally turned to face you, his eyes widened in surprise and hunger.

“Nicholas,” you breathed, your voice thick with need. You stepped closer, the space between you two disappearing as the urgency of the moment enveloped you.

“Hey baby— oh shit.”

His towel dropped to the floor, forgotten, and in that instant, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, raw, exposed, and yearning for each other.

“Oh god, I need you so bad,” you whined, your body pressed against his as you desperately kissed him all over his chest and tipped to meet his cheeks and lips.

Nicholas pulled you close, laughter in his eyes as he felt your warmth enveloping him. “What’s gotten into you, pretty baby?” he teased, a playful grin spreading across his face.

You looked up at him, your heart racing as you felt the heat radiating off his body. “Look at you,” you replied, your voice breathless. “Walking around here looking like this, sending me pictures of you shirtless… God, what do you expect?”

With a mischievous smile, you moved behind him, admiring his tall, muscular frame in the mirror. You couldn’t help but caress his abs, fingers tracing the defined lines, marveling at the way his body felt under your touch. He threw his head back in pleasure, a low groan escaping his lips as your hands explored him.

The atmosphere shifted, the playful banter giving way to something more primal. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his body responded to your every caress. His thick, long cock was painfully hard now , and you could sense the need in him building, mirroring your own.

You wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him gently as you both stared into the mirror. The sight was mesmerizing, his face contorting with pleasure, the way he fell apart under your touch, completely lost in the moment.

As you continued, you watched him unravel, utterly captivated by how hot he was, how perfectly he fit into your desires.

“Look at yourself daddy, I’m making you feel so good, you look so fucking sexy,” you panted, speeding up your movements.

You bit your lip as you felt him jump and throb in your hands, everything he did made you feral. Then, with a shudder and a low moan, you felt the warmth spill onto your hand, a testament to the electric connection between you two.

“Open your eyes,” you demanded. They fluttered open and he watched in the mirror as you sucked his cum from off your fingers before lifting them up to his lips making him taste what was left of himself. He hummed in content, the sound going straight to your pussy but you would deal with that problem soon.

“No,” you said, determination lacing your voice as you looked up at him. “I need to give you more. I want to show you just how much I appreciate you.”

Slowly, you sank to your knees, eyes locked onto his as you let your tongue glide over his chest, savoring the taste of his skin. You trailed your tongue down to his abs, worshipping every ridge and contour. “You’re so beautiful,” you murmured, your voice low and sultry. “So sexy, Daddy.”

His breath hitched at your words, and you could see the effect you had on him, his body responding to your every move. You reached down, wrapping your hand around his cock again, feeling him harden beneath your touch.

“Look at how big you are,” you praised, your voice dripping with admiration. “So perfect in my hands.” You leaned closer, giving him a teasing lick, savoring the taste of him, and your eyes rolled back in pleasure at how good he tasted. “Mm, you taste amazing daddy.”

With that, you took him into your mouth, feeling him fill you completely. The sounds of his pleasure willed you on, and you began to move, sending him to the back of your throat, lost in the rhythm of worshipping him. “You taste so good,” you whispered between breaths, and Nicholas groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, urging you on.

“Just like that, baby,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. “You’re fucking incredible.”

You continued, letting his praises wash over you, and as you felt him hold your head down and cum down your throat, it was like fireworks exploded around you. You savored the moment, knowing you had brought him to this point of ecstasy.

You couldn’t help but smile as you looked up at him, feeling bold. With your fingers, you gathered the rest of his release from his hard cock and brought it to your mouth. You took it in, savoring the taste, and smeared it and your saliva over his chiseled abs. You couldn’t resist the urge to lick it all off, your body shuddering with each stroke of your tongue.

“God, you’re fucking perfect, y’know that?” he said, watching you with a mix of awe and desire. “I appreciate that, baby. But now, it’s my turn to make you feel good.”

He positioned you in front of him, hoisting one of your feet up onto the counter, giving him a better angle. “Open your mouth,” he commanded softly, and you complied eagerly, watching as he spat into your waiting mouth. You swallowed it happily, feeling the rush of satisfaction.

Nicholas trailed his finger down your body, stopping at your soaking wet pussy. As he slipped a finger inside you, you gasped, your body arching toward him instinctively. “Look at yourself in the mirror,” he instructed, his voice thick with lust. “Look how beautiful you are.”

You glanced up, eyes locking with your reflection. The sight of you, flushed and breathless, sent a thrill through you. Nicholas’ finger worked expertly inside you, curling just right, and the pleasure began to build. “That’s it, baby. You’re so beautiful when you come apart like this,” he praised, his gaze never leaving your face as he watched you surrender to the waves of ecstasy. “Let me see you feel good.”

With each movement of his fingers, the pleasure surged higher, and you found yourself lost in the sensation. “Daddy,” your moans filling the room as you finally reached your release, trembling under his touch.

“That’s it, I’ve got you baby, daddy’s got you,” he cooed, rubbing your clit fast as your body jolted and slowly came down from your high.

Nicholas trailed kisses down your neck and across your shoulders, his lips warm against your skin. “Look in the mirror, baby,” he murmured, his breath hot against you. You obeyed, your heart racing as you met your own gaze, feeling every kiss ignite your desire.

With a sudden, playful movement, he bent you over the counter, a sharp smack landing on your ass. “You look so sexy like this,” he teased, watching you wiggle your backside against him. You grinned back at him, biting your lip. “You look like a Greek god,” you shot back, and he smirked, pride flashing in his eyes.

“Oh yeah?” he replied, holding your neck gently but firmly, bringing you back against his chest. You arched into him, feeling his hard cock tease against you as he slipped inside, filling you completely.

He began to pound into you roughly, his grip on your neck ensuring you were locked onto his gaze in the mirror. “Keep those eyes on me,” he commanded, and when you felt the urge to close them, he shook you slightly. “Look at yourself!”

“Daddy, you feel so good,” you gasped, feeling the pleasure building inside you.

“Tell me more,” he urged, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me how fucking hot I am.”

You nodded, breathless, “You’re so hot, so beautiful. I love your body, daddy. I love how you look as you pound into me.”

“Such a dirty slut,” he teased, reveling in the sight of you enjoying every second. He rubbed your clit, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through you. “Look at yourself being fucked.”

With a loud moan, you surrendered to the man behind, your release washing over you as you cried out his name like it was the only word you knew.

Nicholas smirked, a glint in his eye. “I’m not done with you yet,” he declared, hoisting you up effortlessly, arms hooked under your legs. He turned you sideways, positioning you perfectly so you could watch him slam into you.

“Worship me,” he commanded, his voice deep and gravelly making you throb.

You felt a surge of excitement course through you, and you nodded, biting your lip as you gazed into his eyes. “You’re everything, Nicholas. So strong, so perfect,” you whispered, your heart racing at the power he held over you, “you’re so fucking beautiful, your body is a work of art.”

With each thrust, he drove deeper, filling you completely. “That’s it, baby. You know how to treat me right,” he growled, his tone playful yet commanding. “Show me how much you want me.”

You leaned forward, kissing him passionately, your hands roaming over his chiseled chest and arms. “I need you,” you breathed between kisses. “You feel so good. I can’t get enough daddy.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice thick with lust. “I want to see you cum again.”

You gasped as he hit that sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. “Daddy!” you cried out, feeling yourself on the edge once more. “I’m so close!”

“Then let go for me,” he urged, his eyes locked on yours, watching as the ecstasy took over. “Worship your man, baby.”

With one final thrust, you felt the familiar rush of pleasure envelop you as you climaxed, a wave of satisfaction washing over you. “Nicholas!” you cried, and he groaned in response, losing himself in the moment as he held you close, his body trembling with the intensity of it all but still not releasing.

He didn’t let you go. Instead, he laid your body down on the counter just a little, your legs wrapped tightly around him as he pounded into you once more. The world flipped upside down as you caught your reflection in the mirror, his tall frame hovering above you. The sight of him, muscles glistening and face twisted in pleasure, made your head spin.

“Who’s your daddy?” he asked, his voice thick with desire, his hand firm around your neck, exerting just enough pressure to send shivers down your spine.

“You,” you gasped, barely able to catch your breath. “You look like a god, so so h-handsome.”

The feeling of being so close to him made you dizzy, and his relentless thrusts only intensified the sensation. “I’m gonna fill you up and breed you like a bitch,” he growled, and your body responded to his words, craving more.

“Please,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper as you gasped for air, but the urgency in your tone said everything. “I want it. I want you. I want your cum inside me!”

He smirked, the heat of his breath against your skin sending another wave of pleasure through you. “Since you think I’m so perfect, we’re gonna make the most perfect little babies,” he teased, pounding harder, deeper. You could feel the tension building as he brought you closer to the edge once more.

With a final, powerful thrust, he filled you completely, each pulse of his hot cum sending waves of ecstasy coursing through both of you. You felt him tremble against you as he held your neck tightly, ensuring you were looking at yourselves in the mirror.

As the high faded, exhaustion washed over you. He scooped you up into his arms, your head resting on his shoulder like a baby, ironic, considering what just happened. He brought a towel to clean you up, laying you gently on the bed, his lips trailing soft kisses across your skin.

“You did so good, baby,” he murmured, pride evident in his voice. “You took me so well. I’m so proud of you. You’re so perfect, princess.”

You cuddled into him, tracing circles on his pecs as you kissed his chest, savoring the warmth and safety of his embrace. In that moment, everything felt right, the world outside forgotten as you enjoyed the afterglow of what you had just shared.