#tiny writes smut

[tinyboobsbignipples]

Hcs for Ellie dating someone with small boobs

N/A (Ignore if you want LMFAO): I think everyone is on board that Ellie is a boob girl, and I totally agree, but whenever I see a post about it, the writer never exactly clarifies what size they are giving the reader, but it is almost always obvious that it is targeted toward girls with a bigger chest. Some writers will even put something like ‘Ellie loves all sizes’ but will continue to only write details for bigger boobs. Which is totally fine. If big boobs are all you know how to write, then continue to do so. I still read them, and I enjoy doing so but sometimes it just feels a little invalidating..? I would also like to say that this isn't targeted at anyone, and this isn't meant to hate or call anyone out this is just something I've noticed as someone with a smaller chest.

Anyway, this is for the girls whose boobs don’t exactly drop or fall when they take their bra off.

WC: 900+

CW: Talks of NSFW at the bottom (separated from the rest of my hcs), I guess thats it?, established relationship.

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Loves when you wear oversized shirts. Small boobs + oversized shirt = more room for Ellie's head to sneak her way into your shirt and listen to your heart beat. For the longest time, she would swear that this was the only way she could fall asleep but then summer came and it got too hot to do that anymore :( 

Got right back to it though when the weather started cooling down 

Ellie loves kissing the tops of your boobs when you wear a low cut shirt. If you don't wear low cut shirts often, she will give extra kisses in hopes that it will show how much she loves you and your body. If you wear them often, then you’ll be getting chest kisses just as much. 

You often tap her nose and say "Boop,” so one day when your nipples were poking through your shirt, she tapped one of them and said “Boop.” You both stared at each other in confusion until you broke and started giggling. You did the same thing to her because her nipples were also poking through her shirt

Loves hugging you. Because both of your guys boobs are small, you guys can get really really close to each other during hugs. Like nose touching close, every limb of your body is touching her, and if your noses weren't in the way, your guys would be able to give each other butterfly kisses. (When you flutter your eyelashes against someone else, in this case, ellies eyelashes.) 

Hugs every day, all day. She's so clingy, she needs to be touching you in some way or “she will die.” (her words) 

If you’re feeling really insecure about the size of your boobs, Ellie will try her best to comfort you. Shes a bit awkward and will often bring up how she has small boobs too and doesnt feel bad about them and sometimes that just makes you feel worse but it's the thought that counts. :’)

If you’re the type to wear tiny tops because your chest allows you to do so, Ellie would just have total heart eyes. She thinks you're so perfect and loves taking you out because she knows you’ll get all dressed up for her. 

Nsfw: 

On the topic of tiny tops (if you wear them), Ellie likes them because of easy access. It's so easy to just drag the fabric down or up, and bam, your chest is right there on display for her. 

The first time Ellie saw you without your top on, her pupils would just expand. She would kiss all over your boobs. Below, on top, right on, everywhere. She's so in love its embarrassing :')

On the rare occasion that you guys are away from each other, she’ll ask for a picture because “she needs to see them,” and you’ll make a joke something along the lines of ‘there's nothing to see’ and she will get so pouty because she's so needy, and you think this is an appropriate time to make jokes. 

You're sitting on Ellie's lap and riding her strap, you guys are face to face. If Ellie's hands are bigger than your chest, then I would imagine she would have her hands on your upper back or your side, right next to where your boobs are, because she likes to watch how they bounce. Even if it's not a lot, she still gets mesmerized. 

Ellie's phone background is a photo of you, holding the camera completely topless with Ellie behind you. Her head rests on your shoulder, and each of her hands is covering your boobs, acting like a bra. 

If you don't wear bras: Before you and Ellie were dating and you guys were just friends, she would try so hard not to stare. She would try focus so so hard on something else, but it was so difficult for her to look away when your nipples were just right there. Later, when she got home, she would touch herself because she practically already knew what your boobs looked like, and Ellie has a very active imagination.

Loves playing with your nipples. Before, during, after sex loves playing with them and loves hearing the little reactions you give her

Pinches your nipples during sex and can get pretty rough with it too 

After sex, when you two are just lying in bed, she will lay her head on your shoulder, put her palm over one of your boobs and just keep it there

Ellie loves sucking on your chest and your nipples. When it leaves a mark its just an added bonus.

She thinks its so hot when its just the two of you home alone and you're walking around in just a tank top proudly showing off the hickeys she gave you last night (and this morning)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I hope you take this as the compliment it is intended to be, but you strike the same chord of irreverence-as-love, jokes-to-showcase-sencerity that I get from Chuck Tingle, and I adore both of you.

You have bestowed the greatest honour upon me.

[uc1wa]

18+ minors dni

OCT. 17 — KINKTOBER ‘23

KNIFE & GUN PLAY WITH JASON TODD

ktober m.list

tags: fem reader, blood, gun play isn't gorey, penetrative sex, cum play for a second, possessive jason, reader calls jason daddy once, (if i missed any pls message me!)

jason hesitated only slightly when you had mentioned having rougher sex. took a beat to read your face one night after dinner when the topic was somehow brought up, a tilt of his head and arch of his brow following.

it wasn’t like the two of you were purely vanilla when it came to your bedroom tendencies. you started by asking jason to choke you, your hand placing overtop of his to press harder—clearly nervous of his strength and your limits. then, jason tested out slapping… and with the way your pussy clenched around him, it was safe to say there was a green light in front of that too.

but… when you were playing with the switchblade that the man kept in his pocket when you had run the blade over your fingers gently, and the words, "i wouldn’t be upset if you used this in bed," fell from your tongue, jason could only smirk to himself.

"want me to put a lil’ tattoo on you princess?" he asks, holding his hand out in asking for the blade, to which you hand to him. you nod with a grin, lifting up the thin fabric of your pajama shorts. the soft flesh of your upper thigh being exposed, your fingers running over the skin. "right here," you say, the skin right under the hem of your panties being traced with your fingertip.

you look from the skin between your hip and thigh to jason who’s sat in front of you, his eyes darkening as he looks at your skin. the hand that’s not holding the blade grabs the soft flesh, squeezing it and giving it a little tap.

"'jason’s'… how does that sound?" green eyes meet yours, his demeanor changing to one of those that says he's ready to pounce on you at any given second. "mhm, mark me up. wouldn’t be your first time," you nod with a laugh, pulling up your top to show one of your boobs, a dark purple love mark sucked into the skin from two days prior.

jason tilts his head in thought, questioning if he should hold out on telling you his desire that followed yours. the desire that has just reached the front of his mind, a thought that only a questionable vigilante who's killed hundreds would have. his eyes trailed over your body as he does so, to which you scrunch your eyebrows. "yes?" he holds a momentary finger up at you as he silently walks away, making his way into your bedroom without a word.

a few minutes go by, your attention is turned to the television until the man walks back into the room. nothing has changed about him, besides the fact that he’s holding a hand behind his back. one end of jason’s lips is tugged upwards despite the nervousness to reveal the idea he was keeping away from you.

he takes a seat, sweatshirt bunching up around his hips as he brings his arm forward. now your eyes widen—excited and nervous yourself. the hesitation is understandable, as any other sane person would most likely make a run for it.

the shiny, clean metal was one you’d only seen when jason had come home from being the red hood. when he had come off of patrol and you were in the rarity of being awake at the late hour of the night, watching him strip himself of his vigilante clothing and tools. the tools he had hidden in the back of your shared closet, several locks attached as a safety measure.

the mechanism that your boyfriend had used hundreds of times—either to take a life or to severely hurt another. now, holding it in front of you, his eyes never leaving your face.

"why not both?" he asks, turning the gun to show you that the safety is on, continuing to open the slots where bullets would be found and showing that it was clear of any possibilities of harm.

while jason was around guns and every possibility of weaponry on a daily basis, you weren’t. but, you weren’t opposed to the idea, and the way your heart rate quickened and your underwear started to get wet was proof of that.

with wide eyes you nod and stand up to take jason’s hand, leading you to the room that you were normal to experimenting in.

you both were quick to strip yourselves of clothes, your mind occupied with ways that you could make use of the gun, finally landing on the one thing that you know jason would like.

on a carpet in front of your bed, you fall to your knees on the ground below you, hands sitting pretty and expectantly on your thighs. wide eyes watch your boyfriend smirk at the way you’re ready for him, finding his space in front of you, standing tall and proud with the gun still in his hand.

if jason hadn’t cleaned his guns religiously, you wouldn’t dare to put the one in his hand anywhere near you—god knows what would lie on the surface of it. but, jason took care of them as if they were his prized possession, the same way he took care of you.

so, he places the gun in front of him, right where his cock would usually fall if you were to suck him off. instead of him, though, your tongue slips between your lips to find the tip of the gun, letting it lay flat against the underside of the cool metal while his cock stands proudly behind it.

his eyes stay pointed downwards, watching the way you wrap your lips around the cold metal. while his face doesn't read anything but focus, his internals are going off the charts. his cock hard as a rock while his heart beats faster and faster in anticipation. anticipation of watching you suck his gun, and his cock, and fucking you with pretty metal touching your throat and scarlet running down your thigh from his idea of a tattoo.

while your soft lips left a salivated mess on the tip of jason's pistol, you decided to bring a hand to his member. thumb running over the tip, pleased to feel his pre and following suit in running down his length, beginning to slowly jerk him off. a soft smile tugging your lips when you watch his breath hitch in his throat from the contact.

like a flick of a light switch, jason's throwing the weapon to your bed with a shake of his head. helping you stand up with a hand holding your throat, forcing a choked whine to leave you because of the strength of your boyfriend. your eyes go wide when he leans down to face you, grip still holding the soft skin that coats your neck.

"i'm gonna give it all to you tonight, sweetheart. don't worry about that pretty head of yours, okay?" he questions, throwing you on the bed and finally releasing you, allowing you space and time to catch your breath while jason takes his time crawling between your legs that you oh-so gladly spread for him.

it should be a crime to be as wet as you are due to the minimal contact your boyfriends had with you. hardly laying more than a hand on you and dripping onto the bed without care, eyes meeting his dark ones and watching as he grabs the gun once more.

only this time, his confidence is at a high. all hints of hesitation leaving his body and the action of rubbing the opening of the gun between your folds is done selfishly. of course, he knows it feels good with the symphony of whines and moans you sing for him, but he can't help but to indulge in the sight alone. dark eyes watching the way your cunt flutters, begging to be penetrated rather than teased with the metal.

jason's hungry for everything you give to him.

"such a slut," he begins, locking eyes with you once more, "all wet from a fuckin' gun?" you babble something that sounds like a confirmation, and it makes jason scoff, halting his movements just where you need him; tip of his gun pressed and paused at your entrance. "beg for it."

your cheeks flush, turn red at the demand he makes. but, it's dumb to deny it. dumb to act like you won't fuck the killing machine that was just pressed to the puffy lips of your mouth.

"fuck me with it, please," you say lightly, knowing it's not enough, but wanting to push jason further. after all, he said he'd give it all to you tonight, so you'll make him prove it.

his voice grows deeper, louder and he nudges your clit that begging for attention with the metal, allowing weight to fall on it which makes you squirm under his harsh gaze. "fuckin' pathetic... fuck you with what?"

your eyes roll back, hips rolling forward in attempt to move the dead weight that is the gun and gain some stimulation. but, it's to no avail. your eyes grow wide, swollen lips closing before opening once more. "please daddy, wan' you to fuck me with your gun. gonna feel so good, please please please," you press, and jason eats it entirely. angry red cock spilling with precum, milky streak falling against one of his veins.

"mhm, princess," he says, moving the gun downwards and pressing it to your entrance once more, slowly, eyeing the way your hole swallows the metal that pushes inwards until it can't anymore. the sweet moan is something he appreciates, though he knows the size is only a fraction of his cock that you're used to. but, the coolness of it does enough to feel foreign and good.

with a cocky smirk on his lips, he begins fucking you with the weapon. pulling it in and out of you slowly, but increasing in speed with each thrust he delivers; a big hand holding it with his index and middle finger holding the trigger subconsciously. aiming straight towards your cervix, which he'll touch soon enough.

and he fucks you well. fucks you with an arm that has pretty scars and newer cuts littering the skin. veins starting on the top of his hand and trailing to his forearm pumping blood that's evident in the way his cock is begging for attention. but he wants you to cum once on the gun. make a mess out of it in a way that's unlike anything he's ever experienced.

and once you're arching your back against blankets, moaning his name out in a near yell, and attempting to move a hand between your legs to get him to stop fucking you, stimulation too much, he finally gets what he wants.

jason's perverted thoughts cloud his head when he's slow to pull the gun out of you. looking at the metal that's covered in your milky essence. slow enough that there's a string of wetness that connects you to the weapon, and he could cum from that alone.

but the real finale is when he realizes that your cum is filling the barrel of the gun, filling the once-empty space with yourself. he brings it to your lower tummy, spilling the mess all over you in a manner that's filled with pure filth. proceeding to throw the gun to the side, acknowledging the fact that it's served its purpose for tonight. the pain of his hard-on is finally coming to his attention, and he needs to stuff his pussy.

"how'd that feel, gem?" he questions, moving against covers and watching your half-lidded eyes. both hands pull your thighs up so he can push them back, tip teasing your swollen entrance. "g-good," you whimper, and jason would be lying if he paid any attention to your response. your convulsing pussy is the only thing that has his attention right now, the way you're attempting to suck him whole.

and without warning, he's pushing his entire length between your legs, filling you whole and halting his movements once he's completely surrounded by your soft walls. groaning at the sensation of you clenching around him, but resisting moving his hips the way he wants to.

one hand remains gripping the fat of your thigh while the other grabs the switchblade lying on the mattress beside your pretty figure. flicking it open with his fingers, somehow making it look like an art while he's in the process of doing so. your attention follows it, almost forgetting that you're being stuffed full of jason's cock without movement. unwillingly cockwarming the man.

"remind me, baby. where'd you want my name?" jason's eyes move to meet yours, and without fail, a whimper slips past your lips and he feels the tightness that's close to making him hammer himself into you. but he has the patience and self-control that you don't.

his palm meets yours halfway, letting go of your thigh and letting his hand fall overtop of yours, smoothing over the top of your thigh. in the space that's dangerously next to where he's laid out inside of you, and it makes him more hungry for you if that was possible.

he's transferring his blade to the hand that's closer to the skin where you want it, tracing only enough for your skin to become a shade lighter under the pressure. once again looking up at you, he takes note of the way your lips fall open while anticipation grows in your eyes. it makes him smile wildly, a reminder that you want this. that you're the one who asked for it.

"'s gonna hurt," you whimper, and jason shakes his head, setting the blade on your thigh while his big hand takes your jaw in his hand, squishing your cheeks. "you can handle it, baby. c'mon, where'd my strong girl go?" a smile pulls your lips upwards. "it'll feel just like that tattoo you wanted, it's like a trial before the real thing." he leans towards you, holding back a groan from the way he pushes himself deeper inside your cunt to do so, giving you a sloppy and messy open-mouthed kiss.

then he's pulling back, blade in hand once more, and beginning to get to work. the whimpers are a symphony to his ears as he presses the sharp tip against your soft skin, cutting his name so pretty in your flesh. his eyes watch the way the deep red liquid peeks through the cracks, beginning to drip down the side of your skin. the hand that's not cutting his name into you is squeezing and rubbing the skin of your stomach soothingly.

his hips moving in small circles, enough to give the both of you something, but not enough to make him mess up his painting.

"so fucking pretty, honey," jason says as soon as he's finished, throwing the bloodied blade on the floor to clean up later. but his eyes are unable to see his finished work of art, and jason isn't one to waste.

pulling out of you with a moan, he leans down to the expanse of your thigh, licking over the blood with his tongue flat. he doesn't take note of how you sit up, your eyes widening at the stinging but warm sensation. you watch the way scarlet red coats his tongue, finding its way to the corners of his lips while he sits back up on his knees.

jason's cock stands tall as he uses his thumb to collect the blood from his lips, dark eyes watching yours as he sucks on his own digit. longer than needed, but he can see you like it; whether it be your fluttering cunt or your eyebrows that furrow. he laughs, knowing he's completed what had to be done in order for you to fully be his property.

because now jason's pretty slut girlfriend can't show her cunt to any other man without reading jason's name right beside it.

🏷️: @harleycao, @idyllcy, @hails227, @aviixol, @hopeannalea, @hearttjason, @roysjason, @blursotongz, @zaxlarza, @wartofart, @loviie-stuff, @nmw-am, @nightjarwings

[zorosdimples]

mdni - possessive alpha!kakashi. inspired by this ask from caly @qichun, this ask from aly @rookie98writes, and this ask from cher @honeylavendr <3

“i can still smell him on you,” kakashi growls.

you feel the thunderous anger rolling off his body in waves, lightening threatening to crack. he has your back pressed into the mattress, knees flush to your chest, dripping cunt on display and begging for him to fill you.

but kakashi’s heavy cock is too far away to kiss your messy folds; you whimper, whine, and writhe in need, but his firm hold is rigid—sure to leave plum blossoms on the back of your thighs. kakashi grazes his fangs up your jaw to bite and nibble at your earlobe, a teasing taste of what’s to come that has you mewling.

“k-kashi,” you pant breathlessly, an undisguised plea evident in your desperate tone. “he j-just asked for a hug.”

kakashi pauses his ministrations on your ear, silvery stubble scraping your flesh as he moves down to nuzzle the dewy skin of your neck.

“i don’t blame you, pup,” kakashi placates, mouthing a kiss on the column of your throat before raising his head, his narrowed gaze a storm. “but genma fucking knows better than to touch his hokage’s mate.”

without warning, he plunges his cock into your wet heat—you barely bite back a scream. his pace knocks the wind from your lungs, and your head lolls back as he pounds into your cunt.

“gonna fuckin’ knot you and mark you up, sweetness,” kakashi grits out, relentless pace somehow quickening. “everyone’s gonna know who you belong to.”

at that, he sinks this teeth into the healed mark on the juncture of your neck and shoulder. agony sears through your body and hot tears carve streams down your cheeks as he pierces your flesh. but the pain dulls as your mate’s soft lips worship the angry wound, his tongue spelling i love yous in apology.

the next day, per your hokage’s orders, you wear a low cut top around the village. genma can’t look you in the eyes.

[slightly-knot-insane]

Goddess's New Favourite

Monstertober 2024 - day 6 [ Ancient God ] by @ozzgin

[ fem!goddess x gn!reader ]

content: giant/tiny

You felt incredibly lucky to be selected as the next Chosen one. Fertility Goddess's insatiable lust demands many lovers. Her pleasure brings abundancy to the land and her orgasms water the land.

Her huge and plump form is wonderous. She is beautiful and fat, decorated with flowers and vines. Her hair is the colour of the ripe wheat and the skin is the shade of the most fruitful soil.

All the Chosen ones caress her body, her neck, breasts, stomach and thighs. They brush her hair and pubes, and kiss her stretch marks. But the most precious part of her, her magnificent ample cunt, is waiting for you. It is soft, wet and red like the most succulent beetroot.

You first thank the Goddess for choosing you, bowing in front of her, and shaking from both awe and thirst. Your desire to please her is almost overwhelming. Her legs are barely open, just enough for you to squeeze in-between her thighs.

You approach her form and touch her folds, enjoying their texture. You massage them, and kiss them, licking every soft place. The Goddess moans and spreads her legs more and you immediately take her pulsating clit into your mouth. It's almost the size of your fist so you use both your hands and your mouth to pleasure her.

She is praising your efforts, your long arms and skill. She is guiding you deeper inside her, telling you where to touch and rub. You listen to her rich and soft voice and follow her every instruction until her moans become louder. She stops talking and you just follow the melody of her pleasure, until she reaches her peak.

She screams so loudly the earth shakes underneath your legs. But you don't stop since you're being pulled in by her throbbing pussy. You dive deeper and keep thrusting your entire body inside her until she reaches another orgasm and squirts. And you still don't stop. Not until she showers you with her juices two more times. You end up soaked and blessed by her, and she takes you as her new Favourite.

[baby-tini]

Ok ok more dark skk poly with their little pet PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I need more, how would they treat them when they behave? Are they ever nice to their little pet and treat em good? Is gentle petting or are they continuously rough?

Of course of course babes

- They absolutely can be nice, they love their little pet, you're prettiest when you're mentally intact after all

- As long as you behave you're gonna be fine, Chuuya makes loads of cash, and who better to spend it on then his pretty pet? Dazai doesn't make much but he has surprisingly good taste when it comes to clothes. He picks out the prettiest collars too.

- You sit pretty on the couch while Chuuya makes you dinner and Dazai cuddles you, calling you his pretty kitty. Brushing your hair and petting your (faux) ears. Laying little kisses on your cheek.

- While Chuuya is the stricter one, he's not nearly as mean as Dazai can be. He makes sure you're well taken care of, waiting on you patently. Chuuya's the more responsible one, he cooks and cleans. Cleaning your collar, polishing the diamonds because only the best for his pet.

- Chuuya usually picks out your clothes because he has an eye for what looks good on you. The prettiest lingerie, the softest ears, cutest tails and even prettier collars.

- Soft sex is common as long as you behave and play nice, they'll rub your little clit, prep your pretty cunt and softly slide down your throat. Dazai will rub you over your panties and make you cum. You're so pretty when you cum, and he'll give you praise-filled kisses on your neck and head. Brushing away your tears and cooing at you to "be quiet before you wake Slug."

- They're the sweetest when they bath you, Chuuya rubbing you down with the best smelling lotions as Dazai washes your hair. Throwing in a couple bath bombs and bath salts. They'll even carry you out if you're sleepy.

- They'll dry you down and put you in the softest, comfortable clothes they find before cuddling you too sleep.

- Individually their aftercare is good but together!?!? It's amazing, their soft and will make you drink atleast two cups of water and get you a snack. Showering you in praises worthy of importance. Together, cuddles are the best. I picture Dazai to be cold and Chuuya as someone warm. So it's the best of both.

- Chuuya sleeps closest to the door because his ability is combat ready... but Dazai keeps a loaded gun under his pillow. They know being around you puts you in danger and they'll lay down their life for you and each other.

[silvvermoon]

First time anal with Aki 💕

pairing: Aki Hayakawa x Reader

tags: anal sex, rimming, anal fingering, kinda soft-dom!Aki, AFAB reader, anal creampie, literally all just butt stuff.

NSFW, minors DNI

*

thinking about first time anal with aki and how gentle yet commanding he’d be with you. he knows you’ve been wanting this for ages, and even though you’ve already had his fingers in your ass multiple times while he’s eaten your pussy, he’s still so insistent on doing all the proper prep work. even when you remind him about the amount of times Aki’s fucked your pussy while keeping a lil’ plug in your ass at the same time. you’re prepared, is what you’re trying to say, but Aki’s having none of it.

because the first time he’s actually gonna fuck your ass with his cock? Aki’s more attentive than ever, even though you used a small butt plug in your ass the night before to prepare for him. Aki insists that he needs to rim you first, your legs up in the air with Aki’s face between your thighs. Wants ease that tight little ring of muscle with his tongue and spit until you’re hazy and begging for cock, fingers, anything. he doesn’t hold back, tongue circling your hole and slightly pushing in until you’re dazed and aching, whining for more. and he plays nice, murmurs sweet things into your skin like “easy baby, easy. gotta get you nice and lubed up for my fingers next, okay?”

and hearing that lube squirt onto his hands gets you more excited than it should. you feel so exposed like this, spreading your cheeks apart to give aki better access while he slides in one thick finger, stretching your ass out slowly while you moan and clench against him. you don’t give a fuck how pathetic you look, all you know is you’ve wanted this for so long and tonight you’re finally getting it. Aki’s gentle, as usual, leaning down to kiss your clit before looking up at you and whispering “want another, princess?”

Yes. Yes of course you fucking do and you nod as fast as you can, letting out a small whimper as Aki stretches your tight little hole with a second finger, making you feel so full. So good. He stays like that for what feels like forever, only gently pumping his fingers into your ass while leaning down to kiss your thighs. you barely notice his other hand creeping closer to your pussy, and you let out a sharp cry when he starts fingering your ass harder as his other hand begins to thumb at your clit. It’s so much, too good, tears welling in your eyes as bite your lip to stop yourself from making more pathetic whimpers. you know you’re gonna cum if he keeps this up, and no, no, that’s not what you want. Aki’s knows it all too well too, and after a few more thrusts he eases his fingers out of you, giving your pussy a light smack as he does so.

“shh, careful, princess. know you wanna cum with my cock in your ass tonight, don’t worry. you know I’d never let you cum before that,” he says, voice melting into your cock drunk brain as he squirts more lube on his erection. your eyes are watery but you need to see it. need to see how aki’s thick cock stretches your ass for the first time. it’s effort, but you manage to crane your neck down and watch as Aki spreads your ass cheeks apart, rubbing the head of his cock against your tiny little hole before pressing in.

he’s slow. deliberate. letting you take him inch by inch until your head falls back against the pillow, allowing yourself to just breathe. “Doesn’t hurt,” you murmur when you see his concerned look, the way he stills inside you. “Feels good, aki, feel so full of you. Please- fuck me. I need it,” you whimper, grinding your hips forward until more of his cock enters your ass. When he finally, finally bottoms out, you feel so full that it’s like there’s no space for you, just aki. you love it. the way he fits in you so perfectly, despite it being the first time he’s ever fucked your ass. you let out a gasp when he begins to move, slow, shallow thrusts into you while you reach down and rub desperately at your own clit.

you want this to be endless, Aki’s cock filling you up over and over again, and looking up at him you can see it in his face too. He’s looking at the way his cock spreads open your tiny hole like it’s unreal, and you let out a broken moan when aki reaches down and thumbs around the rim of your asshole that’s stretched so nicely around his cock. you can tell he’s not gonna last much longer, no matter how controlled he’s trying to be tonight. And the same goes for you. you’re a filthy mess, rubbing harshly at your own clit until you can feel yourself tightening up everywhere, both in your pussy and your ass. knowing that you’re so full of him is what sends you over the edge, crying out broken words like “aki, aki, m’ gonna cum, please, please-“ and aki knows what you mean, he can feel it. “Go on, baby, cum on my cock for me like a good girl,” he slurs out. the way your ass is clenching around his cock is too much, and it’s hard, but he manages to fuck you through your orgasm, fulfilling his promise of letting you cum from his cock in your ass for the first time.

It still feels good when you’re coming down, your whole body still tight and pulsing, aki pumping into your tight hole with his face buried in your neck, biting hard when he cums inside you. And aki cums hard. All rough thrusts that makes your sensitive hole twitch until he collapses on top of you, pulling out gently only after pressing a messy kiss against your cheek with heavy breathing. your ass is a mess of lube and aki’s spend and you’ve never felt better.

“Sore, princess?” he asks, breathless and still in awe as he gently fingers his cum back into your ass. He loves the mess he’s made of you. And sadly, so do you. You love it too much which is why you say-

“Not at all, wanna go again? I can cum again, probably at least 3 more-“

aki groans into the pillow, “not a chance, you, yes, you need a shower. Then sleep. Okay, baby? And if you clench around my cock anymore tonight, it’s probably gonna die.”

“Fiiiine,” you pout, pressing a kiss to Aki’s forehead. Maybe you can persuade him after a nap. Or tomorrow. And the day after that too. Because you’re insatiable and absolutely relentless when it comes to Aki fucking you.

[harbingersglory]

I'm not sure if multiple requests are allowed (if not please feel free to ignore), but can I also request Lisa kink hcs?

{☆} characters lisa minci {☆} notes drabble, hc's, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings 18+ content, drugging (consensual)

{☆} pet play

lisa adores breaking in brats just as much as she loves obedient pups– either works for her, really, but seeing you on your knees with a collar and a leash around your throat..oh it gets her going. she won't even let you talk unless you need to stop– dogs don't speak, after all. if you've been really bad she has no problem muzzling you, too. hearing your panting and whining muffled by the leather as she constantly edges you, pushing you to the edge just to pull you back..it's her favorite part. if you've been bad, anyway. if you were a good pup, she might just overstimulate you instead, see how many times you can cum before those pretty eyes of yours roll back.

{☆} bondage

bit of an expected answer but she definitely enjoys every aspect of it. she certainly doesn't mind coming home to you already restrained, but theres something especially intimate about doing it herself. it let's her tease you, too, making sure the restraints aren't too tight by making you instinctively tug on them when she suddenly touches you or moans in your ear..shes not opposed to being restrained, either, don't get her wrong. leather, ropes, silks..she's got something for every occasion. just be careful to choose something she can't squirm her way out of, because she's surprisingly flexible, and she might just turn the tables on you mid session.

{☆} aphrodisiacs

i mean. this is pretty self explanatory. her passive literally helps with potion making, she's absolutely made something of this variety before. whoever takes it depends on the mood– sometimes it's just one of you, sometimes it's both. she just loves seeing you so needy and warm, barely able to keep your hands to yourself. when it's just her taking it, it's more of a means of..relaxation. no stress, no worries, just being taken care of by you for a bit where she can turn her brain off and enjoy it. but her favorite is when you both take it– let's you both just..let loose and fuck like rabbits for a bit, get out a bit of pent up energy. especially if you haven't seen each other for a while. if you thought she was insatiable on a good day, it's so much worse now.

[hungharrington]

since you are likely my favorite user for steve blurbs right now, i am here to share my thots.

i just wanna make out with steve in that stupid bmw. middle of summer, he’s in some stupid little shorts and a crop top, all breathless and shit UGH just let me know your thoughts on this important topic 🎤

firstly, i’m so very flattered 🥹 ur a very talented writer yourself so i was a beside myself receiving this from u! i’m sorry it took me so long! my thoughts are…. well it’s such a delicious thought i had 2 expand….

The radio sounds just a little bit out of tune when you’re this far out from Hawkins. 

The noise a bit grainy, coming out low and wavy from the speakers in Steve’s car and mixing with the heat waves of the hottest season. It’s baking hot this summer— mirror mirages spill onto the roads, flocks of people gather to the lakeside, and swim-suits are the only appropriate apparel to combat the sweltering temperatures. 

You, however, are entirely too hot for another reason altogether today. 

Steve is always warm. He seems to glow from the inside, always hot enough to warm your cold hands should you worm them under his shirt — though, he always yelps and bats them away. Loves it secretly. Today, he feels as warm as sunlight itself under your touch.

His lips have been softened from your endless kisses and there’s a laziness in the press of his mouth against yours. His hands are gentle, tracing invisible patterns up your sides and back. It’s slow — a gentle push and pull of you in his lap, your legs slung atop his bare thighs and arms around his neck, messy kisses shared. 

You love summer, if only for the fact it gets Steve into shorts. The pair he’s in now are cherry red, white lining the edges and all the motion has them riding up his thighs. The paler  softer parts of his thighs are exposed and you have a half mind to slink down and continue your kisses there. Fingers twined in his hair, you give a soft scratch along the nape of his neck and are rewarded with a soft sigh in Steve’s kiss. 

The song on the radio tapers off and there’s a crackle of the radio’s host voice, announcing something in a mumble you can’t hear. Steve’s hands on your waist pull you closer, rocking your down and you release a little groan, fire catching in your tummy at the friction when— 

“Oh, man, I love this song.” Steve pulls back abruptly, interrupting your heated make-out. He licks his swollen lips which are sheened with your spit and you blink at him, surprised. It takes another second for a smile to slip onto your lips as Steve scrunches his eyes closed for a second, beginning to sing along lowly as he bangs his head lightly. 

“Just take those old records off the shelf…” He opens his eyes again and smiles at you. He’s so handsome that it makes your stomach swoop. 

“D’ya know it?” He asks, one hand leaving your hand to push some hair behind your ear. You nod, taking advantage of the closeness and smacking a quick kiss onto the inside of his wrist. Steve melts a bit, sinking further back into the drivers seat with a gooey grin. 

You’re glad for it, relishing in your new view— eyes skim down his chest, fixing hungrily on the sliver of his tummy that’s exposed. The shirt he’s wearing is killer. You had full on stammered when you climbed into the passenger seat, at the cropped and loose shirt Steve was wearing; the tan skin skin of his midriff well on display. Paired with those shorts? You had uttered a silent prayer, unsure if you were giving thanks or asking for some goddamn mercy. 

“S’good song,” He says, though his eyes have got that distracted look in them, utterly trained on you. 

His hands paw at your side, nails scraping to bring your closer for another round of lazy making out. But you dodge his kiss— dotting a quick kiss on his cheek before you nose under his jaw. Steve takes a second to catch on, not moving to give you any space. You nuzzle in closer and make a little noise, nose pushing at his jaw til he finally tilts his head back, letting you creep closer. 

Lips meet skin and you kiss, kiss, kiss- til your desire grows and expands, threads of lust twinging in your tummy. You suckle, nibbling and soothing the skin — the heat of the day wanes around you, fueling you more. Below you, you can feel Steve’s hips shift around, his hardness growing beneath you. 

“You’re a fiend,” Steve teases. It loses all heat with how breathless he sounds. 

“Says the one who brought me out to Lover’s Lake,” You lick a hot stripe up his neck, taking his earlobe into your mouth and Steve groans loudly, grip on your tightening. “Wouldn’t exactly say you’re full of pure intentions.” 

“Touché,” He breathes. Then pulls you down, rocking your hot cunt against his cock once more, both your soft groans mixing in the hot summer air. 

Steve grins, saccharine and devilish all at once, and you waste no time in kissing it away, hands twisting in back into his hair with a tug. The fire from inside, heavy with lust, and the warmth from outside, the blistering setting sun, mix and mingle— as you let the your sun-kissed boy take you apart in beemer, lakeside. 

[queerofthedagger]

the problem with sites like bluesky is that you'll follow some tolkien scholars because you own books of them and think what they do is fascinating and then they just. follow you back. like my good sir we post incest elf porn here. oh my gOD

[uplatterme]

blake, imagine dottore made a clone... again. But he accidentally got a Toddler version of himself🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯

Lil shits a menace🙂

dottore thinks that it’s fine. it’s not the first time he’s made a mistake when it comes to his projects. it’s normal for occurrences like this to happen.

so when he’s about to toss the dormant body and incinerate it, he didn’t give a single care in the world.

that is until, you showed up in the picture.

the lever is warm in his hands, dottore holding onto it as you stared at him.

“oh my god! that’s adorable!” you grin at the tiny dottore.

dottore bites the inside of his cheek. if he did this earlier, this wouldn’t have happened.

“when’s he gonna wake up?” you ask, admiring how soft the child looks.

fuck.

so, dottore is forced to keep the child because he couldn’t bear it to see you disappointed.

he should have known it was a bad idea.

“you, child. this is your job for the day.” he spits out, disgusted to even to look at his mistake.

you grab the folder in his hands, giving it a quick read and returning it to dottore.

“isn’t this too dangerous? you can’t send him out there.” you say.

that was the point, dottore wants to say. the only way he can get rid of this child is if it happened under natural causes.

“he’ll be fine.” he reassures you.

“can’t you get someone else to do it? tiny ‘ttore is still new, you know?”

“great. you’ve given him a nickname.” he groans, rolling his eyes.

in the end, dottore couldn’t argue with you and tiny!ttore lived to see another day.

thanks to the bug. you and dottore barely get to spend time anymore, the lunch dates you two always had was now intercepted.

so when he finally had time to have you all for himself, dottore wouldn’t just let that time go to waste.

“h-hurry!” dottore whines, pushing his body against yours.

“aren’t you eager?” you tease, your fingers running through his soft hair.

you pull his head towards yours, your lips only centimeters away from each other. yes, finally–!

a knock on the door distracts you, and dottore swears that he will kill whoever it is that was behind that noise.

“can i sleep here? i had a nightmare.” tiny!ttore says, a fluffed toy around his arm.

“aww. of course, sweetie. come on, you can sleep here in the middle of the bed."

“huh? what about–” dottore stutters, this whole thing was unbelievable!

now? when things were just heating up?

“we can reschedule it, dear. sorry.”

dottore clenches his fists so hard, his nails stabbed through his skin.

he looks at the child who is now snuggling under the blankets.

and for a single second, he sees the child grin evilly. as if he knows what he had just interrupted.

he stares at dottore before mouthing words that no one would ever dare to say to him.

“they’re mine now.”

dottore’s mouth is left hanging.

that little shit!

[wearyeyebrow]

Worthy In Blue

Summary: You’ve been working on a little surprise project for Lucifer involving navy blue rope and a mahogany chair. You know Lucifer has a penchant for ropework, so what if you gave him an evening to put those skills, and your own, to good use?

Tags under the cut.

Tags: submissive lucifer, dominant MC, rope, restraints, MC is in rope, Lucifer is restrained, pegging, cunnilingus, gn MC, afab MC, mutual possessiveness, romance, established relationship, pre-nightbringer

-

Tonight is the long awaited Grimte Banquet where all the noble houses gather. Relationships are maintained, new ones started, and it’s all Lucifer can do to keep his brothers in line. Luckily, he has you to keep Mammon by your side and Beel full of food.

The night drones on spent managing many noble advances. He spares you a weary glance and you wink at him from across the hall. He can’t help the quirk of his mouth, a slight smile amidst everything. You’re impossibly charming.

A few moments later and he hears your voice in his ear. “Meet me in the coat room, I have something to show you.”

You slip away and disappear somewhere in the crowd. Eventually he manages a moment alone, horribly curious as he finds his way to you.

You close the door behind him, nearly hidden amidst coats of all sizes. “Hi gorgeous,” you wrap your arms around his waist.

"A coat closet?" He muses.

“I won’t keep you. Pretty sure Beel is looking for me too… Here.” You hold up your phone, “What do you think?”

You’re showing him a picture of… rope? “This is what you wanted to show me?”

“I could hardly send it to your phone right now, what with the entire royal court surrounding you. Plus, I’d rather explain its implications in person.”

“Implications?”

“Mm. Are you free next Friday night? Around 10pm?”

“I…” he allows himself a small smile, “I might be able to spare you some time.”

“Oh might you?” You smirk, “Well, if you’re too busy I completely understand. I’m capable of appreciating my own hard work.”

He acts affronted, grabbing you by the waist and kissing your hand. “Would a willing participant not please you more?”

“Isn’t that why I asked you in the first place?” He’s captivated by the crinkle of your nose, by the warmth of your smile.

“You’ve caught me,” he chuckles, “I’m all yours.”

“Then it’s a date. Do you like the color?”

You show him your phone again and he hums appreciatively. "Did you get it from Cloven Boutique? I didn’t think they stocked colored rope."

“They don’t, I dyed it myself."

“Truly?” He looks closer, in want of his glasses. “It looks like a professional job."

"Well, I had to get the color just right - I love the look of you in blue."

"Oh?" His tone softens.

“Mhm…” You appreciatively sweep your eyes up his body, lingering the gold peacock tie-clip you got him last month. You reach out and adjust his collar, “I love seeing you in things I’ve bought.”

“You have good taste.”

“Do you really think so?”

He frowns. “I wouldn’t wear something if it didn’t suit me.”

You laugh, “I know, I just wanted to hear you say it.”

“You’re horrible.”

“I’m charming.”

He fondly rolls his eyes. “I suppose both descriptors are accurate. I will look forward to it all week.”

“I think it’ll be worth the wait.” You lean up and brush your lips against his, “Don’t dance with too many nobles now.”

“Haven’t you noticed? All eyes are on you tonight. It’s taken everything in me not to whisk you away.”

“Likewise, darling.” You wink at him again and his heart certainly doesn’t flutter.

-

Lucifer knocks on your closed door, waiting for you to beckon him inside.

The first thing he notices is an old mahogany chair in the middle of your room, stolen from the hallway. It sits odd against your comfortable furniture.

You make a show of locking your door, brushing against his shoulder as you pass by. Then you cast a noise canceling spell - nothing but an emergency could disturb you now.

When you meet his eyes you're delighted by his wanting expression, unguarded and open in his desire. "I wonder…" you walk over to him, "how much you've thought about this night, curious about what I've planned?" You straighten his tie, close enough to see him swallow.

"It has been on my mind." He takes your hand in his own and kisses your knuckles, looking every part adoring.

You chuckle fondly, "Especially in the evenings, when you think of me?"

His cheeks heat up but his gaze is steady. “I won’t deny it."

“Honesty suits you." He goes in for a kiss just as you pull away. "I want to show you something."

He makes a curious sound and you leave him to open your dresser drawer. "Now, you knew I'd be using rope tonight, but for what exactly I didn't tell you." You gather the rope in your arms, "It might not seem like much of a deviation."

"Oh?" He eyes the rope you've picked.

"You still like it?"

He turns the rope over in his hands, "It’s richer than I remember. How did you do it?"

"Blue mangled beetles - kind of like carmine, but the process is simpler. When dried and crushed they make a beautiful dark navy dye that doesn’t bleed."

"You did your research."

You chuckle and take the rope from his hands. "Only the best for you. Gloves off."

He slips off his right leather glove, finger by finger - wait. “Blue?” You look at him inquisitively. His nails are a rich navy blue, perfectly manicured and glossy.

His eyes flicker behind you, cheeks dusting pink. “I painted them a few days ago.”

You're confused for a minute, then it hits you. “Wait - because of me?”

His voice drops, “You - you mentioned-" He clears his throat, "I thought you might like them.”

"I love them, Lucifer…" You kiss his knuckles, his palm, his wrist, before pulling him in for a proper kiss. His hand cups your jaw and he makes a small, plaintive sound. He really had been thinking about your words all this time.

You pull away with reluctance. "It's time I tell you what we’ll be doing tonight. Shall we start the scene?"

He clears his throat again and sweeps his own magic over your door. "Let us begin."

"Any titles are allowed tonight, you can address me however you’d like. Red to stop the act, yellow to pause, and green for all good. Fire if you want to stop the scene entirely."

"Understood.”

“Then…" the glint in your eyes makes him a little weak in the knees. "I know you have a penchant for ropework. And I know how much you enjoy earning my praise. So, I had a thought - tonight I’d like you to use your ropework skills and tie me up, but I want full range of motion, you know, a design strictly for aesthetics.” You pull the rope taught in your hands, “And then, if you do a good enough job, I may reward you with some rope of my own. What do you say?” You hold out the rope to him.

You smile and oblige, settling into the cold wooden seat. He eyes you and then the rope, contemplative, before loosening his tie and rolling up his sleeves. He circles you, and you admire the focused, pointed look on his face as he carefully plans an intricate design in his mind’s eye. He’s completely in his element and you love to watch him work.

“What an intriguing idea...” He takes the rope from your hands with soft reverence, feeling the rough texture between his fingers. “You really got such a nice shine to it,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. He breathes out slowly and gestures to the mahogany chair, “Please dear, relax.”

“Ah,’ you suddenly realize, “This might help.” You lift up your shirt and drop it next to the chair before shimmying out of your bottoms, leaving you bare before him.

“Yes…” he murmurs as his eyes roam your skin.

You feel a pleasant tingle up your spine when he brushes his fingers through your hair, gently gathering until he can put it up properly above your neckline. Your body relaxes under his touch.

The first knot is an anchor tie just below your bust, he uses four strands and divides them into two, slipping each half over your shoulders and back down to meet your back. The rough texture warms you from the outside in but his careful touch is cool against your skin.

You watch him as he works, loving the interplay of shadow that falls across his sharp features. He catches you staring.

“Am I pleasing to look at, Madam?”

“Yes, very much so.”

Your pact mark sings and you chuckle, bemused at the sensation. “You like it when I compliment you, don’t you, my little black bird?”

His cheeks heat up and his eyebrows furrow, as he’s put off by the pet name, but the humming in your chest only continues. “I can feel it, you know? Honesty really does suit you best - your face is much prettier wearing it.”

The tips of his ears turn pink but he circles you, wrapping his arms around your midsection to finish fixing a knot in place. Suddenly his warm lips press into the crook of your shoulder. The deep undertones of his voice make you shiver as he whispers in your ear. “You will be the death of me.”

You turn to meet his eyes, coy mischief in your own. “I think you’ll survive.” He chuckles and you kiss him once, twice, just to make him simmer. He almost goes back in for a third but you brush your thumb over his bottom lip. “Not yet.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He kisses your shoulder once more.

Time passes in a lovely, hazy sort of way. Lucifer relaxes into the process as you'd hoped he would. It’s a gentle sort of focus where his mind is set on something, a place where nothing else can bother him or tear away his careful attention. He loves taking your direction, easing him out of his mind, constantly wound too tight.

Finally he kneels to finish the job, gingerly maneuvering one of your legs up and over his shoulder to wrap a strand around the back of your thigh. His eyes wander this time, following the line of your body until he lingers between your legs. As if he can’t help himself he kisses your skin, leaving a delicate trail up the inside of your thigh.

You cup his jaw in one hand and he kisses your palm, eyeing between your legs. “After you finish,” you murmur, “You’ll have to earn what you get tonight.” His eyes flicker to yours and he continues moving, finishing the tie he started.

“I believe I’m finished, will you stand?”

You do so, feeling the bend and flex of rope. Nothing feels too tight, everything is snug, hugging the curves of your body. You admire what lacing you can see, particularly the delicate design around your hands and wrists. He truly had taken his time, a glance at the clock proves that an hour has passed.

Finally you turn around and examine his work in the mirror. Your eyes light up at his intricate ropework. You’re beautiful, elegant, fully mobile and yet covered in faux restraints. You admire yourself, making a show of your appreciation. His chest puffs out and the pact mark on your chest rumbles. You gently circle your clit with one finger and enjoy how he shifts uncomfortably behind you.

You want more from him. Your body aches from an hour of foreplay.

You cup his jaw with one hand. “Kneel.”

“Yes Sir,” he murmurs, almost breathless.

His willing, almost eager demonstration of your power over him, of his own lack of control, further spurns you on, and you know he can hold your weight.

"Show me, then, devotion to your work." You prop one leg up on the hard mahogany seat, exposing yourself for him. Rope hugs your thighs, indenting and highlighting what he wants most.

His eyes flicker between your face and your clit. He licks his lips. "Thank you, Sir."

You run a hand through his hair and brace the other on the back of the chair. As soon as his tongue touches your clit you gasp, unable to help yourself. You’ve been on edge for so long now, throbbing at every new rope and delicate detail. You savor his mouth, rocking your hips into his face gently. "Yes…" he sucks and licks as you drip onto his tongue and he moans softly at the gentle tug of your hand in his hair.

You'll come quickly and you know it - you rock against him faster now and he wraps his fingers through the ropes on the back of your thigh before squeezing your ass and petting between your legs.

You look down at him, at his disheveled appearance, tousled hair, and too-tight pants. “Lucifer, darling, you - ah - you don’t have to say anything, no thoughts, no control, just take what I give you."

He groans and claws at the backs of your thighs, pulling you forward against his mouth.

You tilt your head back. "Good man, good job-" he whines and flicks his tongue with renewed vigor, "fffuck, right there…"

You fuck his face, shivering and shaking, chasing your orgasm. He holds you upright and supports your body, grasping at his own ropework. You moan and twitch. A glance at the mirror brings you closer still, “Look baby, look at you, making me feel so fucking good… shit-” Your grip on his hair tightens as you twist your hand, pulling him forward. He moans, high and breathy, harshly breathing through his nose.

His right hand supports your waist while his left squeezes your ass. Just a minute more, a second more, finally, finally his palpable desire sends you over the edge, and god how it fills the air. He takes it all and you don't fall, even as your legs lock and your grip falters. You shake and shiver in his tight grasp, palms holding tight to his shoulders. He keeps licking, just enough to keep you there until tension dissipates and you’re overstimulated. Only then does his grip loosen, following your body as you stand on your own, knees shaking.

There's an unspoken tenderness in his eyes - your baby takes pride in service.

You step away from him when you can, fixing his hair and cleaning your cum from his lips. "Sit on the chair, darling."

His knees crack when he gets up, stiff from his place on the hardwood floor. He sits, bulge straining against his trousers, watching you with rapt attention.

"I think…" you turn around, "You've more than earned your reward - as if there was any doubt in my mind."

“Oh?” He practically glows at your praise.

"And…” you walk over to your nightstand once more, "I'm not done with this yet." He swallows, gaze fixated on the rope in your hands. You smirk, "You like that idea?"

He shifts again. "Yes I - very much."

You reach into your nightstand and pull out a matte black silicone dildo, smaller, elegant even. You hold it up. “What about this? Are you up for it tonight?”

“Yes,” he nods, “I prepared myself for the possibility.”

“Perfect,“ you breathe, already excited. “Then…” your smile is nearly wicked as you regard him and his cock throbs in earnest. “Clothes off. Hands behind your back - hold your forearms.”

He acquiesces, knowing exactly what you want.

Soon he’s sitting naked on the chair, hands held behind his back, willingly at your mercy. Your ties aren’t nearly as elegant, but they restrict his movement and hug his body. You restrain his arms behind his back with a chest harness, carefully distributing the weight of the rope, adding just a touch of flourish. Even in such a simple design he looks lovely. Blue really is his color, you think, admiring him. He catches your eye.

“I was right,” you say, tilting his chin up for a chaste peck on the lips, “You look lovely in blue.” He groans and chases your lips this time. You let him, just once, and deepen the kiss yourself, before grabbing him by the hair, wrenching his head up. “Not yet, darling.”

“As you wish.” He’s breathless and kiss bitten.

You leave him and stack two large pillows on top of each other. You motion for him to stand before grabbing him by the restraints. “I will help you get into position,” you chuckle darkly, “I want you face down.”

His cheeks feel hot but he nods, “Yes Sir.”

“Good man. Lie down.”

It takes a moment since he can’t move his arms but you finally have him exactly where you want him, chest pushed into the bed, hips and ass raised by the pillows beneath him.

He tilts his head to look at you with one eye, eyebrow raised as you appear with more rope.

‘Can’t have you squirming too much, now can I?” He groans into the pillow beneath him and nods.

“Tell me if you’re ever uncomfortable or need to readjust, this position might get tiring after awhile.”

“I’m sure I can take it.”

“I’m sure you can, but I’m not asking. Tell me.”

He shivers. “Yes Ma’am.”

“Good.”

You uncap the lube on your nightstand and snap a glove on. He shivers at the cold feeling of your lubed finger rubbing against him, but as your hand warms so does his body and he slowly starts to meet your gentle thrusts as you enter him. You love this part. It’s incredibly intimate, almost more so that the ensuing sex, because anyone else would have been thrown out long ago - he has only ever done this with you.

Once you’re up to two fingers comfortably you withdraw your hand and replace it with your lubed up strap. “Ready?”

“I’ve been ready.” You smack his ass and he gasps.

“What was that?”

“I apologize, yes I - I’m ready.”

“That’s better. One more remark like that,” you murmur, pressing in slowly, “And I’ll rethink your reward.”

He hisses, wiggling his hips, “A-Apologies - it won’t happen again.”

‘I know it won’t,” you smile, “because you love this too much.” Finally, finally you move your hips, slow at first, until finding a gentle rhythm. You use his bound legs as leverage, pushing deep inside of him as his low, desperate moans fill the air.

As his body strains against the rope it holds tight, digging into his skin - this heat, this pleasure, your power over him is dizzying. For a few blissful moments he can’t think, all he can do is feel you surround him and hear your haunting voice in his ear.

It is easy to admire him, Lucifer Morningstar splayed out before you, rocking his ass into your hips, wanting more, more. You grab the rope holding his forearms tight against his back and pull, arching his back against the sheets. He cries out, and you lean down, pushing all your weight on top of him.

“That feel good, baby? Heh, you love it don’t you?” Your hips are slow and deep, grinding on his favorite spot, “You love being fucked like this. Wrapped in my rope, under my hand-” He moans, long and debauched. “I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like this, you belong to me, don’t you?”

“Yes-!”

You’re breathless above him. “We belong to each other, right, love?”

His eyes open and he gazes at you in the adjacent mirror, “Yes…” You dip and kiss the back of his neck, soft and sweet, "Hnn…" he takes in a shuddering breath and lets his head fall forward.

“That's right, no one else deserves to touch you, no one else is good enough, worthy enough.” You whisper in his ear.

He gasps your name and pushes his ass against your hips, pathetically fucking himself on your strap. Every slap of your skin sears welts into his body. You grab his hair and jerk his body up.

“Eyes open, look at yourself.” He didn’t think he could get any redder, but the sight of you behind him, fucking his ass with slow purposeful thrusts, restraining him while tied in his own ropework, it's too much, he can’t - he’ll -

You wrench his head up, “Keep looking,” you pant, “look at the face you make when you come for me.”

He can’t help it, he comes fast and hot, hips stuttering, mouth open and gasping. You slow but you don’t stop. He whimpers but dutifully stays, taking it all.

“Good man,” you praise him, “So. Fucking. Good-” you punctuate your words by digging your nails into his back. You slowly drag them downward and tiny specks of blood bubble to the surface. He hisses but his cock jumps beneath him. “You like a little pain, don’t you?” You slap his ass with an open palm. “Answer me.”

“Yes, yes Ma’am -”

“Yes what?”

"Fuck - more, please-!”

“Filthy.” You bite, before indulging him with another slap on the ass.

You run your nails gently over the welts and he sighs in bliss. In this moment of calm you use all your strength to hoist him upward again, until his back is flush against your chest. You wrap a hand around his throat and start to bounce him on your cock. His eyes roll back and he groans, reaching around to grab your hip as he rocks back into you.

“When I cut you loose,” you pant, “I want you to lie down on your back, legs spread, waiting and ready for me again. Do you understand me?”

He swallows breathlessly and nods.

You lean him forward and gently pull out. You untie his legs, and then his arms before dropping the rope next to the bed. His body is tinged red with slight rope burn, just how he likes.

He rolls over onto his back, finally making eye contact with you. You smile at him, gentle, and his pupils pin. “Spread your legs for me.”

Lucifer grabs his own knees, and spreads his legs while you refuse to let him lose eye contact. His red flush is delicious, and so is his twitching cock, clearly enjoying this.

You grab more lube from the nightstand and quickly reapply before holding one of his legs to your chest and slipping back inside. He groans and rocks his hips forward, savoring the feeling.

You slowly snap your hips forward, reaching deep inside him, you keep repositioning until he gasps and then you hold there. Little thrusts of your hips grinding against his ass. He gasps low, moaning sweetly in his deep voice as sweat trickles down his temple.

“Kiss me-” he croaks, reaching for you. You melt into him and grind against him as his hands roam your body. He doesn’t realize he’s whimpering and shuddering, or if he does he doesn’t care.

You continue like this for a while, enjoying his gasping deep moans in your ear, his lips and teeth on your neck. Finally, at your mercy, you gently trace your fingers over the head of his cock. The noise he makes is agonizing, and you have half a mind to continue neglecting him. But he has your heart as you keep up that gentle, light contact, and he doesn’t ask for more. His head is spinning, filled with thoughts of you, you, just you.

You speed up your hand as your hips get tired and he grips your back, rocking into you. Finally you feel him tense, feel his blunt nails dig into your back.

“There you go, my pretty bird,”

He gasps, light and beautiful, shuddering as he comes, keening as each slow, deep thrust of your hips milks another dribble of cum out of him.

You kiss again and again, covered in sweat, cum, and specks of blood, ignoring the passage of time.

-

Darkness blankets your bedroom, barely lit in deep navy shadow. Your fingernails fall up and down rhythmically over the rope burn on Lucifer’s back.

“I heard you were approached last week.” He murmurs.

“At the Banquet…? Oh, did Asmo say something?”

Lucifer chuckles, "He said something akin to "Everyone here is itching for their chance, don't let them out of your sight."

You feign exasperation. "And what did you do, you let me out of your sight. Now I'm in bed with a demon."

Lucifer snorts, "The very same demon you propositioned in a coat closet."

"What can I say? I know who I want," you kiss his temple.

Lucifer leans into you further, draped across your body. "Don't you have plans early tomorrow morning?"

“You yawn again, “Solomon said he has something important to talk to me about. What exactly, I’m not sure… he can wait until I've had breakfast.”

“That sorcerer…”

“He wants you so bad,” you chuckle, “I mean, it isn’t up to me, but I enjoy acting as if it is.”

“Rest assured,” he kisses your shoulder, “he’ll never have me, not like you do.”

Your smile is gentle. “I love you, Luci.”

“And I you.”

Lucifer closes his eyes and relaxes his sore body, satisfied and calm. He resolves to make you breakfast in the morning before seeing you off to Solomon.

Truly, he thinks, there's nothing he can’t face as long as you’re there when he wakes.

[narumi-gens]

Never Felt a Feeling Like This

Narumi Gen x f!Reader

summary: For Narumi, it’s love at first sight. For you, it’s boredom.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, meet-ugly, masturbation (m), hinted femdom, switch!narumi (like literally from one paragraph to the next sometimes), budding degradation kink, but also praise kink, spit kink, inappropriate workplace behavior and relationships, mentioned/implied power imbalance (but in name only), dubiously solicited dick pics, narumi is a simp and I'm embarrassed for him and you should be too, narumi’s imagination gets a real workout in this, no bs4s were harmed in the writing of this fic (takes place pre-bs5 release), do not break electronics without proper safety equipment, excessive emoji use (did you know emojis count as words in the word count??)

notes: the kn8!chaos couple's origin story is finally revealed! I'm just happy I was finally able to use a Beyoncé lyric in a title. she released Renaissance because she wanted the kn8!chaos couple to have music to fuck to.

words: 6.3k

part of the Agents of Chaos series

minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not like, reblog, or comment

As the First Division’s Vice-Captain leads you throughout Ariake Maritime Base on a tour of the facilities, you find your interest hanging on by a thread. 

All Defense Force bases are essentially the same — you have your training grounds and rooms, administration offices, barracks, an Operation Room, and mission preparation spaces. So, you’re torn between yawning loudly and pulling out your phone to see if there’s anything else more worthy of your time, which there surely is. 

The only thing stopping you is that this is your first time meeting Vice-Captain Hasegawa and you have just enough awareness to recognize that doing either would probably lead to a poor reaction from the man. There will be plenty of opportunities to test his patience in the weeks, months, and — hopefully — years to come. 

With great effort, you stifle both urges and continue pretending to look like everything Hasegawa is telling you is not going in one ear and out the other. You wish he would just drop you off in the Operation Room so that you could figure out which station and console you wanted to take over. 

Your mind has begun to wander so much that you almost run into him when he comes to a sudden stop in the middle of the hallway. Although considering he’s still talking and is pointedly facing a pair of double doors, the stop might not have seemed as sudden if you had been paying attention. 

“—wanted to warn you,” he sighs and you realize that you’ve missed everything he’s said before. 

But you quickly catch sight of the plaque next to the door that reads, “Narumi Gen, First Division Captain,” and are easily able to piece together what it was that Hasegawa was warning you about.

“Ah, don’t worry, Hasegawa. I knew what I was getting into!” you grin up at him, completely missing the way his eyebrow raises at how casually you’ve addressed him without his proper title. “Captain Ogata made sure of that when he was trying to convince me to take the Head of Operations opening at the Third Division instead.”

Your assurances don’t seem to provide him with any sort of comfort. If anything, his severe expression only deepens.

“Yes, well. We’re a little ahead of schedule for your introductory meeting with Captain Narumi but he should be in,” he says, deciding to move past the unsurprising revelation that the Fourth Division Captain had tried to steer you clear of the chaos at the top of the First. 

He sharply raps his knuckles on one of the grand, wooden doors to announce your presence and opens them both without waiting for a reply. When you see what lies inside of the office, you understand why. 

Your gaze isn’t sure what it should settle on. The piles of dirty clothes? The overflowing garbage cans? The discarded and empty water bottles, cans of coffee, and energy drinks? The precariously stacked Yamazon boxes lining the walls? The reverently displayed and definitely overpriced action figures?

But your eyes are quickly drawn to the lump inside of the futon laid out in the middle of the office and right in front of the large TV, where a first-person shooter game is playing out on the screen. If you listen carefully, you can just make out the muttering coming from the lump in between the sounds of the game’s gunfire.

You tilt your head to the side as you take in the sight. Even if Ogata hadn’t pulled you aside at every opportunity to caution you away from the First Division, Narumi Gen’s reputation was practically legendary among the ranks of the Defense Force — and only partially for his skill in combating kaiju. 

It wasn’t a lie when you told Hasegawa that you knew what you were getting into when you accepted the position as the First Division’s new Head of Operations. However, the chaotic state of Narumi’s office still manages to take you slightly by surprise. 

Somehow, you remain unaware of the way the corners of your lips are slightly tugging upwards in a hint of a smile.

You’re pulled from your musings by the waves of anger that you feel radiating off of Hasegawa, who you had genuinely forgotten was standing next to you. His arms are crossed over his chest and this close to him, you can see the vein on his forehead pulsing. 

“I apologize for your first impression of Captain Narumi,” he grumbles and you can easily tell that this is a common occurrence for the man. “If you’ll give me a minute, I’ll take care of this.”

But before he can march toward the lump, you cut him off. 

“No need! I can handle this,” you tell him genially as you curiously open the Yamazon box on top of the mountain nearest you. You’re unimpressed by the six-pack of energy drinks inside. You note that it’s the same brand as the empty cans strewn across the office floor as you carelessly push the box off the stack, where it falls to the floor with a dull thud. 

You open the next box and pull out a boxed set of some movie series that you’ve never heard of and which has an obnoxious yellow sticker on the front that says, “LIMITED EDITION!” You pout with disinterest and toss it over your shoulder. 

“Are you sure?” Hasegawa asks just as you get ready to move on to the next Yamazon box and you abandon your search through Narumi’s things. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?” you reply, your nose wrinkled slightly in distaste. 

Your admonishment and clear lack of boundaries has a sense of dread creeping up on Hasegawa — one that usually only accompanies a kaiju attack. He’s quick to tamp down any fears that his already-frequent headaches are about to increase, not wanting to tempt whatever higher power might be out there by putting those thoughts into the universe.

The only outward sign of his apprehension is his deepening frown. He responds with a wordless hum. 

Turning away from the Yamazon boxes, you look back to the lump to find that it hasn’t moved once despite the noise and your and Hasegawa’s presence. Glancing at the TV screen, you see that the game is still in progress. 

There’s an obvious solution to this problem. 

The lump is so focused on clearing its virtual mission that it’s easy for you to walk toward the TV, reach behind it, and yank the BS4 plug from the overfilled power strip. The sudden silence from the TV as the console unexpectedly shuts off is met with a screech from the lump, which finally moves to reveal Narumi Gen — captain of the famed First Division and Japan's (supposedly) Strongest Anti-Kaiju Combatant.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” he screams, tossing off the duvet and stumbling to his bare feet. “I was just about to clear the campaign! You just made me lose all of my progress! Who do you think you are?!”

With every shout, he moves closer, his finger pointed at you furiously and his bloodshot eyes practically bulging from his head.

You answer him by grabbing his BS4 from the floor, lifting it over your head, and slamming it back down where it shatters apart. His shriek this time is so loud and shrill that you truly worry for a moment that your ears may begin to bleed. 

“No, no, no, no, no,” he repeats frantically as he collapses to his knees and tries to carefully pick up the hardware now scattered on the floor of his office, his fingers trembling from the trauma of seeing his most precious possession in pieces. 

But he’s too slow for you. You step past him and kneel down beside the BS4’s exposed motherboard. And then, in one smooth motion, you pull a pair of needle-nosed pliers out of the pocket of your lab coat and drive the jaws straight down where it pierces the fragile, green fiberglass. 

You can only describe Narumi’s resulting wail as a widow’s wail for how devastated it sounds. 

When you stand up and look back down at him, you see the shell of a broken man. He’s hunched over on his knees near your feet. The shattered pieces of his BS4 are loosely clutched in his hands. And if you look closely, you can make out the slight shaking of his shoulders. 

“Who are you?” he rasps, his gaze glued to the remains of his beloved console. “How can you be so cruel?”

“I’m the First Division’s new Head of Operations, bitch,” you smirk down at him, your arms crossed over your chest in satisfaction. The revelation seems to catch his attention because his head shoots up to look at you in shock before anger begins to creep in. 

“You? You’re the new Head of Operations?” he seethes, abandoning his BS4’s carcass to slowly stand. His fists are clenched at his sides and the tick in his jaw is visibly noticeable. 

However, you’re already moving on. You close the distance between you so quickly that Narumi’s fury is momentarily forgotten as he instinctively takes a step back only for you to take one forward. 

His stupor grows worse when your hands come up to cup his jaw. Suddenly, all he can focus on is how warm your touch is and how surprisingly pretty you are, your soft features hiding the heartlessness that lurks underneath. 

The reminder shatters his daze and he stumbles backward and away from your caress. He tries to put as much distance between himself and you as he can, only to trip on his futon and wind up sprawled on his back on top of the haphazardly strewn duvet. 

Not wasting an opportunity to get close to him again and without a second’s hesitation, you follow him and plop yourself down to straddle his torso. A flush breaks out across his cheeks and quickly spreads to the tips of his ears that are peeking out through his messy hair. 

The pink grows a deeper red when you sit up, slightly lifting yourself off of him so that you can further lean over him until only a few inches are separating your face from his. The back of his head is already pressed to the futon, leaving him nowhere to go.

His face feels hot under your fingers as you grip his chin firmly enough that he can’t shake you off this time. Although that seems like something you don’t need to worry about as he appears frozen beneath you. You’re vaguely aware of how his own hands slowly and cautiously drop to rest on the tops of your thighs. 

Yet, where Narumi is clearly flustered by the compromising position that you’ve forced him into, the ability to grasp the grossly inappropriate and unprofessional nature of your interaction is beyond you. There’s a purpose to all of this, which makes it incredibly easy for you to ignore the feeling of his fingers nervously twitching through the fabric of your pants. 

With one hand holding his chin, the other comes up to rest the back of your fingers on his cheek and you can feel how doing so makes him somehow even more tense. The wildness in your eyes has something stirring deep inside of him, which is only made worse by how he’s already missing your weight on his stomach.

He suddenly finds himself fighting the overwhelming urge to slide his hands up to your waist and pull you back down to sit on him. It wouldn’t be that hard. You would probably make a small cry of surprise if he did. He can practically hear it ringing in his ears and it goes straight to his cock, which is quickly growing half-hard.

And then it wouldn’t take much more to move you a little further down until you’re placed right on top of the bulge in his sweatpants. He would use his hold on you to grind your ass down while he bucks his hips up. 

His fantasizing takes a different turn when you slowly begin to lean even closer to his face and his wide eyes drop down to your lips. They look so soft and plush. Your tongue peeks out for just a second before disappearing back into your mouth and he wants nothing more than to chase it with his own.

What would your tongue feel like sliding against his? What would it feel like on his fingers? On his cock? 

Your teeth lightly sink into your bottom lip and he’s genuinely surprised that he doesn’t cum on the spot. 

It’s only your grip on his chin that keeps him from lifting his head to close the gap altogether. Thankfully, you seem to be doing so on your own and his eyes flutter shut, his lips parting slightly in anticipation.

But then his left eye is opening back up against his will as your thumb pulls on the skin just under his eyelid while your index finger lifts the area just below his brow. His right eye opens in confusion, trying to understand what’s going on.

He takes in how your gaze is fixed on his left eye, your head tilting back and forth from side to side curiously, and it slowly sinks in that the slightly manic look that you’re wearing has nothing to do with the kiss he was expecting. All of your interest in him seems to be exclusively tied to his scarlet-colored eyes — the eyes crafted from the retina of Kaiju No. 1.

It feels like someone has doused him in cold water at the realization. 

He can feel his dick softening from the disappointment — but only partially. After all, you’re still straddling him and leaning in close enough that he can feel every one of your exhales on his face. 

“So, these are the Future Sight eyes…” you murmur to yourself, switching your attention over to his right eye and giving it the same inspection that the left received. You hum thoughtfully and Narumi scrambles to find something to say, trying to think of anything that has even the slightest chance of impressing you. 

Before he can start to brag about the kaiju with a 7.4 fortitude level that he neutralized with one shot last week, you’re removing your hands from his face entirely and sighing heavily, a pout forming on the lips that he had just been daydreaming about. You lean back and sit up, dropping your weight fully onto his stomach once again.

You absently rest your palms on his chest and he’s struck by the vivid mental image of you doing the exact same thing if you were to ride him. 

The fantasy comes closer to being real when your hands push down for leverage to readjust how you’re seated. Your attempt to find a more comfortable position has you sliding just a little further down his body. His breath catches in his throat when your knees end up on either side of his waist and your ass meets his lap — and the tent in his pants. 

His fingers instinctively grip your thighs tightly as he bites back the deep groan that’s desperately trying to escape his chest. 

He knows you can feel how hard he is. It’s not like it’s something easy to ignore when you’re sitting right on top of it. Yet the only reaction you have is a slight twitch at the corner of your lips that’s so faint anyone else except for him, the captain of the Defense Force’s strongest division, would have missed it. 

And he also notices that it twitched upward. 

For a brief second, he contemplates using his eyes on you. Activating them would allow him to visualize your brain’s signals, indicating your movements before you made them. Maybe then he would have a better idea of what you’re planning to do. It’s probably against some stupid regulation to use the weapons designed to combat kaiju on another member of the Defense Force, but you’re a much more formidable foe.

However, he then feels you shifting slightly as you get ready to move so that his hard cock is no longer poking your ass and he panics. 

His hands dart up to grab your hips and keep you right where you are. Although you don’t cry out in the way that his ears are yearning to hear, your eyes widen just a fraction, betraying your surprise at his action. 

Knowing that his grip is firm enough to keep you from shaking it off, you instead look curiously over your shoulder and down, your back arching as you check if you can see the hardness directly underneath you. It’s the first clear acknowledgment you make of his arousal. 

Anyone else, everyone else, would be frantically trying to explain away the situation — as if there’s a way to explain away an erection that your coworker is sitting on. But Narumi isn’t anyone else and he finds his mind wandering yet again.

All he can focus on is how your arched back pushes your chest forward. Despite the shapeless lab coat that you’re wearing and how it covers the majority of your body, he can still make out the curves of your tits and how they’re perfectly framed by your upper arms on either side.

What would you look like in just your lab coat?

His thumbs twitch where they’re firmly pressed to your hips with the urge to slip them under the hem of your shirt and feel the warmth of your bare skin directly. If he did, he could easily slide them, and your shirt, up. Once he had it high enough, he could then curl one finger into the front of your bra and pull it down until your tits were spilling from its cups. 

And then all he would have to do is lean up and he could capture a nipple between his wet lips. He could then wind his arms around you beneath your lab coat to splay one hand across the arch in your back, pressing you further into his mouth. By this point, your hands would have moved from his chest to his shoulders where they would be fisting the fabric of his shirt.

He can hear your phantom cries of pleasure in his ears again as his dick starts to ache. 

The bubble bursts when you face forward, your back now hunched over rather than arched. You look deeply unimpressed. Narumi is suddenly and viscerally aware of the thin stream of drool that’s slowly trailing from the corner of his lip and down his jaw where it then meets his neck. 

You notice it as well and lift a hand up to casually wipe his spit away with the pad of your thumb. His mouth opens on its own, instinctively wanting you to slip the spit-slicked digit inside. 

Somehow, the action has you looking even further unimpressed. Rather than sticking it past his parted lips, you wipe your finger clean on the front of his shirt. 

When you meet his gaze, the disinterest that he can see in your eyes and in your expression is crippling. Every fantasy that has been playing out in his head over the past few minutes shatters and comes crashing down around him. 

“Hm, I didn’t think the wielder of the oldest numbered weapon would be so boring,” you finally say with a frown.

His open mouth closes before opening again, only to close and then repeat the cycle as he finds himself unable to respond. His reaction doesn’t help his case.

“...b-boring…?” he repeats, seemingly incapable of understanding the meaning of the word. 

You slap away his hands from your hips and he’s so dazed that he lets you. The insult slowly starts to sink in and his growing indignation soon eclipses every last ounce of arousal.

“Boring?” he angrily cries out and you simply roll your eyes as you stand up. This time when you move off of him, he’s too outraged to miss your weight and warmth. 

“Yes. You bore me,” you tell him pointedly, your hands on your hips as you look down at him where he lays on his back between your feet. He gets the sense that this is exactly how you would be looking at a worm that you saw on the sidewalk before trampling it.

“W-well, if I’m so boring why’d you end up with the First anyway?” he retorts with a glare as he finally sits up. “You’re here because you wanted to be in the presence of Japan’s strongest!”

Your features wrinkle in distaste at the sentiment. 

“You wish,” you scoff as you step off of his futon and take a moment to examine your nails. “The First Division’s base is on the bay and the Third’s by a river. The ocean is way nicer. Simple as that.”

He can only gape up at you, speechless once more. 

You made the biggest decision of your career based on the base’s proximity to the ocean rather than the strength and prestige of the division. A life-changing decision, and you made it on something as superficial as preferring the ocean to a river.

There was no rational thinking involved. There were no thoughtful considerations made. Other than consulting Google Maps, there was no careful research done. 

A decision that you would have to live with for years and you made it based on something as trivial as a body of water.

Simple as that.

Narumi’s heart starts to race and his face grows warm. His palms suddenly feel sweaty and he’s hyper-aware of an unfamiliar fluttering in his stomach. A wide grin slowly stretches across his face.

Before you can walk away, he grabs your ankle.

“Wait! What’s your name?” he asks eagerly. You just smirk down at him and shake off his hand with a kick of your leg before walking away and out of his office without a second glance back at him. 

As he watches you leave, he wonders if the irises of his eyes — which usually morph into crosses when being used as the weapon they are — have now taken the shape of hearts.

He’s ready to collapse back into his futon with an infatuated sigh. He still has the tent in his sweatpants to deal with after all and if anything, it’s only gotten harder. 

But before he can, he catches sight of Hasegawa, who’s standing stoically by the doors of his office. He wonders if the man has been there the whole time and if so, why he didn’t put a stop to the chaos that just played out before him as he’s normally quick to do.

He vaguely notes that his Vice-Captain looks like he does whenever they’re en route to a kaiju attack and he’s reviewing the information available to assess the threat as best he can before engaging. Determination then crosses his severe features, as if he’s steeling himself for some upcoming battle.

The man appears about to take his leave, but Narumi recognizes that he can’t let his only other source on your identity just walk away.

“Hasegawa! Hey, Hasegawa!” Narumi cries out as he sits up on his knees. 

“Yes?” he replies stiffly, steeling himself for whatever is coming.

“Is she single?” He hungrily points in the direction you just went, like there’s any doubt about who the “she” in question is. 

Hasegawa’s entire demeanor abruptly turns icy. His arms slowly cross over his chest — usually a sign that a physical assault is imminent.  

“I’ll remind you, Captain, that the Defense Force highly discourages fraternization between enlisted personnel,” he says. Despite the lack of violence that accompanies the warning, it’s the most threatening that Hasegawa has ever sounded when reprimanding Narumi. 

But all Narumi can think about is how hard he still is and the memory of both your disinterest and your body on top of his as you straddled him. 

“Discourages is not forbids,” he smirks with all of the smugness of someone who believes that he’s found the greatest loophole in the history of mankind. 

Hasegawa’s scarred features contort into a grimace at Narumi’s easy disregard for the admonishment that he just received. Deciding that the best course of action would be to conserve his energy for the fight that he can see on the horizon, he drops his arms to his sides and walks away from his captain. 

“Wait! Tell me her name!” Narumi shouts as he desperately begins to crawl after him. 

Hasegawa suppresses the urge to slap a palm to his forehead in exasperation. He looks over his shoulder at the pathetic sight of the man known across the country as Japan’s strongest on his hands and knees, begging for just a crumb of information. 

“If you regularly checked your email as is your responsibility as First Division Captain, you wouldn’t need to ask,” he scolds him and with Narumi sufficiently distracted, Hasegawa is finally able to escape, closing the doors to the office with a loud slam!

Meanwhile, Narumi scrambles back to his futon to dig through it for his phone. When he finally finds it, it slips out of his grasp due to how sweaty his palms are. It takes a few tries but with fingers that are trembling with excitement, he’s able to unlock his phone and pull up his email.

He frowns in annoyance at the sheer volume of unread messages. As he starts to scroll through them, his eyes hurriedly skimming through the subject lines of each one, he soon realizes that this is like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Doing a quick search for “Head of Operations” pulls up an unopened thread titled, “[URGENT] Start Date: Head of Operations, First Division.” He finds what he’s looking for when he opens it and sees that the latest email is from you, your name appearing in the “from” line.

He slowly says your name aloud, testing it out. He likes the way it tastes on his tongue.

He wonders if your pussy will taste even better when he gets you to sit on his face. 

As he skims the email thread for any further information he can glean, he notices that your responses to the information on your promotion and new assignment are largely in emojis. You seem to have a particular fondness for the red 100 emoji. 

With a contented sigh, he collapses back into his futon. His phone is clutched tightly to his chest and an adoring smile is painted across his lips. 

Rolling over onto his stomach, he rests his chin on a curled fist and returns to his email. Now that he has your name, he happily kicks his feet back and forth in the air and does another search through his inbox for it. He strikes gold when he finds your personnel file attached to a months-old, unopened email. 

But he doesn’t get far in reading through it because at the top of the file, just beneath your name, is your phone number. As soon as he sees it, he saves it in his contacts under: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦.

His fingers fly across the screen as he then drafts a new message to you and quickly hits send.

From: Narumi Gen Hey! Go out with me 🙏

He watches the message thread with unblinking eyes, eagerly waiting for the three little dots that indicate that you’re typing to appear at the bottom. When they finally do, the anticipation of what you’ll say is enough to have him salivating all over again.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 ????

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Who dis

He frowns slightly. He’s your new captain. Shouldn’t you already have his number saved in your phone? Rather than letting it ruin his giddiness, he seizes the opportunity that he missed earlier to brag. 

From: Narumi Gen JAPAN’S STRONGEST 💪

He smugly waits for your reply. It takes longer this time for the three dots to appear and he’s positive that it’s because you’re too in awe to respond right away. 

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Oh.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 😒

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Captain boring 🥱

Each reply is like an arrow to his heart. The yawning emoji in particular feels like you’ve taken a knife to his gut with a pretty smile on your lips. Desperation quickly takes hold.

From: Narumi Gen Plz go out with me 

From: Narumi Gen Pretty plz? 🙏

From: Narumi Gen Ur so hot. Plz go out with me 🙇‍♂️

From: Narumi Gen I’ll do literally anything to go out with u 😫

His responses are sent in a flurry one right after another. If he had the ability to feel shame, he would be embarrassed by how increasingly pathetic he sounds with each sent message.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Nope 🙅‍♀️

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 This pussy is closed to losers

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 😝

It’s a good thing that he’s already laying down because the one-two punch of being called a loser while also being told that your pussy is off-limits would have had him keeling over. 

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Enjoy taking care of your little problem on your own 🍆✊💦

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Let me know how it goes 😏

He suddenly feels like you’ve breathed new life into him. Does this mean that you’re imagining him jerking off? 

The thought of you thinking of him with his hand pumping his cock has his head spinning. He rolls over onto his back and drops the hand holding his phone by his side as he stares up at the ceiling of his office in a daze. 

Acting almost on its own, his free hand slides down his stomach to slip under the waist of his sweatpants and then the band of his boxer briefs. He can’t help the hiss that escapes him when he wraps his hand around his cock. It’s easy to pretend that it’s your hand that’s pulling it out of his pants instead of his. 

Would you tell him how boring he is even as your hand slowly begins to move up and down his length? Would you be acting like this is a waste of your time? Maybe you’d be jerking him off with one hand and scrolling through your phone with the other. 

His eyes close to aid the fantasy. 

He can hear your voice in his ears, every word dripping with indifference as you tell him to hurry up and cum already so that you can go do something that actually interests you. You would barely even look at him, only glancing at him every so often to check how close he is to finishing. 

When he spits into his hand to help the glide of his palm, he imagines that it’s your hand and remembers how you didn’t shy away from his saliva when you wiped it off of his chin earlier. His fist speeds up its pace as he imagines what it would have looked like if you had popped your thumb into his mouth for him to suck it clean rather than wiping it off on his shirt. 

Or better yet, if you slipped it into your mouth, only removing it once your thumb was free of his spit. 

What would it look like if you spit directly into his mouth? He’s positive that you would purse your lips right over his open and waiting mouth and let your spit delicately drip straight down into it. You wouldn’t let him swallow until you told him that he was allowed to. And then you would reward him with a condescending pat on his cheek and a chaste kiss to his shining lips.

And what if he spits into your mouth? He would have you on your knees for him, lips parted wide open, and tongue stuck out as you waited patiently to taste his cock. He would grab your chin with fingers as firm as yours were on his earlier and just when you began to rub your thighs together, he would spit into your open mouth before making you swallow. 

Would you whine if he told you that you’re a good girl?

He definitely would if you called him a good boy. 

He would whine right into your pussy if you were to tell him how good he was being with his face buried between your thighs, your legs tossed over his shoulders. The words would be broken up between breathless moans as he lapped at your clit, your fingers pulling on his hair to tug his face closer. And he would then start pumping two of his fingers in and out of your pussy, curling them just right, all so that he could hear you say the words again.  

After seeing how little he impresses you, he would give anything for even a scrap of your praise. But he also wants to make you just as desperate for his. 

He wants you sprawled across the top of his messy desk.

He wants you to make it even messier when you cum on his cock as he pounds into you, his balls hitting your ass with each thrust and your ankles dangling by his ears. He’d have your arousal dripping from your pussy and down the crack of your ass to pool on the wooden surface of his fancy desk. 

He’d then slide two of his fingers through the mess before shoving them into your mouth, wordlessly demanding you suck them clean. 

And you would, wouldn’t you?

Because for all of your standoffishness and your seemingly aloof nature, when it comes down to it, you would want to be good for him. 

You would keep his fingers in your mouth until you were gagging on them when he shoved them in deep enough to reach the back of your throat. And even then, you would keep your lips closed around them until he decides to remove them. 

And when he pumps you full of his cum, you would thank him with hazy eyes and an adoring smile. It would mirror the one on his lips when he drops to his knees and pushes open your thighs to watch his cum slowly drip in thick, white gobs out of your sopping pussy to join the growing pool underneath your ass. 

Each mental image that rapidly plays out on the backs of his eyelids pushes him closer and closer to cumming. He can feel the orgasm building in his spine and in his balls, only for his eyes to spring wide open when he remembers your request to keep him updated. 

His phone is still in his sweaty hand, his fingers clutched around it so tightly that if he wasn’t so used to holding his BS4 controller for long periods of time, then they would be aching. He absently sends a silent thank you to whoever invented Face ID because it means he doesn’t have to fumble with a passcode to unlock his phone and pull up the camera. 

As much as it pains him to do so, he pulls his free hand from his weeping cock to yank his shirt up his torso and shove the hem between his teeth. He moans around the fabric when his hand returns back to his cock, giving it a squeeze as he looks down at it through the screen of his phone, trying to angle the camera just right. 

His hand is itching to pick back up its frantic pace up and down his shaft. But he keeps it still just long enough to take a perfectly-framed picture of his hand wrapped around the base of his dick and pre-cum leaking over his fingers. 

He hurriedly hits send and drops his hand holding his phone back to his side. 

However, his hand has only just started moving again when his phone vibrates in the death grip that he has on it. A pathetic, little whine emerges from the back of his throat when he lifts it up and looks at the screen to find that you’ve already replied. 

His toes curl and his hips buck up off the futon as he eagerly opens your message.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOO

That’s all it takes for him to cum with a groan of your name that’s muffled by the shirt hem still shoved in his mouth. His eyes are squeezed tightly shut as his hips give a few jerks, imagining that he’s spilling his cum onto your face instead of into his still-moving hand. 

When he’s finally capable of opening his eyes, he opens the camera on his phone again. With fingers that are tingling from his orgasm, he takes a second picture — this time of his cum-coated fingers and the streaks of white painted across his stomach.

After hitting send, he continues to look at the screen and preens when the three dots almost immediately appear at the bottom. 

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

A wistful sigh leaves him as spits his shirt out of his mouth and clutches his phone close to his chest, which is still rising and falling rapidly as he pants for air.

“So, this is what love is like,” he muses aloud, a dreamy smile stretched across his lips and absolutely certain that his racing heart has nothing to do with jerking off or the sticky mess coating his hand and stomach.

[sugarsnappeases]

microfic - bartylily!! | 2k words | infidelity (sorry james!) and sexual content!! (smuttiest thing i’ve ever written lmao) also barty is a dressmaker and lily is coming for a fitting (wink wink)

“You know, Lady Potter, the more I see you, the more convinced I am that your husband just doesn’t know how to treat a lady right”

Lily rolled her eyes as she walked further into the room, looking at Barty out of the corner of her eye as the door fell shut behind her, “He knows how to pay for all these dresses”

Barty chuckled, stepping up behind her and wrapping his arms around her shoulders, draping himself over her like he wanted her to wear him instead of a dress, leaning in so his lips were pressed against her ear, “Because that’s the only thing you come here for”

“Of course,” said Lily, smoothing down the front of the dress she was wearing and studiously ignoring the heat she could feel rising in his cheeks as Barty bit at her earlobe, trailing his lips down her neck, nipping at her skin. “I’m here for a dress fitting, nothing more, the Mckinnons are having a soirée and I need new measurements done”

“Riiight,” Barty dragged out the word, pulling back, running his hands along her shoulders and down her arms, “Well, I suppose you had better take your dress off then, we want to make these measurements as… close as possible”

Lily laughed, turning to swat at Barty’s arm, catching him watching her, something between awe and pride in his eyes, the same way he’d looked at her the first time he’d made her laugh - the first time he’d made her cum.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to help me with the buttons,” she smiled, playing coy, turning back around again. She could feel the heat of his body as he stepped closer to her again, his breath on the back of her neck, standing far too close to be professional, his hands working their way down her back, undoing the line of pearl buttons.

With the last one, he slid his hand under the fabric of the dress, cold on the skin of her lower back, her waist, squeezing at her hip, and she gasped.

“There,” he said, sliding his other hand up her shoulder and helping her to slip the sleeves off, the top of the dress falling to gather at her waist, exposing her chest to the cool air of the fitting room. Lily leaned back into him slightly as he ran his hand up her stomach to cup one of her breasts.

She wasn’t quite sure how it had started, this thing between them, this routine - Lily would go to get fitted for a dress and Barty would get her off - but there was something addictive about the way he touched her, the attention, the adoration, the worship in his fingers, in his words. He made her feel alive, he made her ache, just a few touches and she could already feel that she was wet, anticipation bubbling under her skin wherever his hands went.

“Now,” Barty said, speaking into her neck, lips pressed against her skin, two fingers circling lightly around her nipple, the other hand moving downwards towards where her dress was bunched up at her waist, “Can you do the rest yourself or do you need my help?”

Lily lay her head back to rest on his shoulder, feeling herself blush as he licked at her neck, breathing, “My husband has paid for your finest attentions”

Barty bit into her neck then, pinching at her nipple at the same time, making Lily gasp again.

“So he has,” Barty agreed, face moving away slightly, both hands moving down to sit just above her dress, fingers brushing over the skin just underneath the fabric, “And, although I’m sure you’re used to disappointment where Lord Potter is concerned, I always make sure my customers are satisfied”

With that he gathered her dress in his hands and pulled it down over her hips, her arse, her thighs, letting it fall to the floor as his hands roamed back up her body, squeezing at her thighs, her arse, her hips.

“My my, Lady Potter,” he murmured, pulling her backwards, closer to him, her bare skin pressing against his clothes, his fingers pressing into her skin, “No undergarments? How scandalous”

Lily huffed, bringing a hand up to thread through his hair, tugging lightly in a way that made his hands squeeze tighter at her body, “Do you satisfy all of your customers in the same way?”

Barty lowered his face to her neck again, mouth just above her pulse point, like he was trying to speak directly into her bloodstream, “Why? Would you be jealous if I said yes?”

One of his hands moved down over her hip bone, brushing through curls and circling her clit, the other moved upwards, cupping her breast again, squeezing her nipple. Lily tightened her grip on his hair, trying to sound unaffected, trying not to moan, as she said, “No”

Barty laughed, hands unrelenting, everywhere, making her squirm against him, heat not just in her cheeks now, “I’m the most popular dressmaker in the city, you know. You’re one of six different fittings just today. Would you be jealous if all of those people got the same treatment as you? My finest attentions?”

Lily shook her head, sure she wouldn’t be able to contain a moan if she attempted to speak this time, his hands were unyielding, inexorable, pressing, squeezing, his breath hot on her neck.

“You’ll have to use your words, princess,” Barty said, pulling her body backwards even closer into his, like he was trying to push himself into her bones, merge them into one, become a part of her, “Tell me. Would you be jealous if I told you that you’re not the only one?”

He moved a finger through her wetness as he spoke, rubbing at her clit again before sliding it into her warm heat, his other hand still playing with her nipple, “If I told you that my shop is popular because of more than just the clothes?”

Lily gasped, hand lifting to join the other clenched tight in Barty’s hair, as his finger slid in and out of her, as he kept speaking, mouth still pressed to her pulse point, “That everyone you see wearing my clothes - all your acquaintances, your friends, your husband - gets all the same benefits that you do?”

She moaned as he added a second finger, as his other hand pinched hard at her nipple, as he bit and licked at her neck, merciless, relentless, everywhere at once in a way that made her feel like she was stood in the middle of a bright, hot bonfire, burning at the stake.

“Tell me, princess,” Barty continued, inexorable, “Would you be jealous?”

His thumb moved to circle her clit as his fingers pressed in and out of her, and Lily moaned again, panting, trying to focus enough to speak, mind consumed by the fire, by the pleasure, by his fingers, his worship of her.

“No,” she eventually managed to breathe out, a word that turned into a moan halfway through as Barty sucked hard at her pulse point, still pressing impossibly closer to her, never close enough.

He licked at the spot he’d sucked, tongue hot and wet, then moved his head away from her neck slightly, the hand on her breast moving up over her collarbone to rest around her throat instead, applying a little pressure, making Lily squirm again, the heat in her burning ever higher, rising to a roaring inferno, closer and closer to the peak of its height.

“What was that, princess?” he said, trailing kisses over her shoulder now, his own breathing heavy as she moaned again, his erection pressing against the curve of her arse where their bodies were tight against each other, closer than close, merging into one.

“I didn’t quite catch it,” he continued, biting at her shoulder, one hand flexing around her neck, the other still working inside her, three fingers now, lighting her up from the inside out, relentless.

Lily pulled at his hair, hard enough to hurt, fingers in a white-knuckled grip, hands sweaty, her turn to make him moan, low and almost desperate into the skin of her shoulder, a curl of satisfaction only adding to the crescendo of heat inside her.

“I said-” she panted, biting at her lip to stop another moan of her own as Barty’s thumb dug into the space between her jaw bone and her skull, as his other thumb rubbed unrelenting circles onto her clit.

“I said no,” she managed, pressing herself back even closer into Barty’s body, close enough that the shape of his shirt buttons, his belt buckle, would probably be indented into the skin of her back, leaving a mark like the hickeys she was sure were bruising her neck, becoming a part of her, fusion.

Barty laughed, hot breath on Lily’s skin, tightening his grip around her throat, fingers sliding in and out of her faster, harder, moving to press his lips against her ear, “I don’t think I believe you”

Lily was hurtling rapidly towards an explosion, toes curling, a flame travelling along a trail of gunpowder, approaching the powder keg, set to blow up, shatter, erupt. She couldn’t stop the noises coming out of her mouth now, needy and greedy and obscene, almost as obscene as the sound of Barty’s fingers moving in her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge, to the burning inferno.

“I think you like the idea of being special too much, princess,” Barty maintained the pressure around her throat, on her clit, relentless, inexorable, merciless, moving to bite at her collarbone, like he was trying to sink his teeth into the bone itself and suck out the marrow, and Lily’s eyes rolled back as something exploded inside of her, the fire reaching the powder keg, falling headfirst into a roaring inferno, fireworks erupting behind her eyelids, collapsing entirely against Barty.

He moaned against her skin again, entirely desperate-sounding now, animalistic, raw, as she spasmed against him, around his fingers still inside her. He moved the hand that had been around her throat to wrap around her waist instead, holding her up as she shattered into pieces in his hands, licking at the layer of sweat on the skin of her neck, tongue hot and wet, groaning like he was tasting ambrosia, something holy despite the way she was burning up in hell’s inferno.

Lily panted, coming down from her high, Barty helping her through it, his erection still pressing up against her arse, his belt buckle, his shirt buttons, still pressing into her skin, the two of them merging into one.

“And you are special,” Barty went on, pulling his fingers out of her, lifting them to his lips, licking them clean and moaning again, the gods’ nectar, divinity, sublimity. With his fingers clean, he gripped Lily’s chin gently and tilted her face towards his, awe, pride, devotion, worship in his eyes as he looked at her blissed-out face.

He kissed her, slow and reverent, and she could taste herself on his lips, his tongue, hot and wet, murmuring against her lips, “So, so special for me, princess”

Lily nearly collapsed back against him again, entirely weak in his arms, still breathing heavily, against his lips, anticipation building again, addicted to his touch, his adoration, the way he held her like he wanted to melt into her, like he wanted them to fuse into one, inseparable.

She turned in his arms, facing him now, wrapping her arms around his neck, one hand sliding into his hair to deepen their kiss, Barty’s hands moving to rest on her hips, pulling back slightly, something a little mocking in his eyes, to say “You know, I bet these little meetings are the only time you ever cum”

Lily scoffed, pulling back further, moving her hands to rest on his chest, pulling her hips back from where they had been grinding against Barty’s, against the wet patch in the place his trousers were straining, “You know, I came here for a dress fitting, nothing more, and you haven’t even gotten your tape measure out yet”

[flowercrowngods]

sub!kas!eddie is such a good idea because eddie *does* just wanna be a good boy <3 (@a-little-unsteddie)

🥰🤍 thank you! i don’t take credit for that, though, that belongs to the nonnie 🫶

preceding snippet

cw: there still be smut here

“Please,” Kas says, drooling around his fingers. His eyes are glowing still, his hips twitching like he’s fucking into something invisible, something that only exists in his fucked-out imagination. Steve is obsessed with him.

“I couldn’t hear you, baby,” he taunts, adding another finger for Kas to drool around, feeling a line of spit running down his palm. His dick twitches at the feeling, at the vision of it — four fingers in that pretty mouth, and still he begs.

“Please.” And it’s more a moan than anything else, loud and sweet and breaking around the edges because his baby is so, so close.

But it’s not enough. He needs Steve. He needs those fingers wrapped around his beautiful cock, needs him to play with that plug and shove it in a little deeper. And he needs Steve to bite his neck as he whispers promises into his pale skin, telling him that he’s good, he’s good, he’s so, so good.

And Steve is so happy to give him everything he needs until he’s ready to just take it.

more? make me!

[radiohahas]

what is kinktober ? i get the basics of it but how does one participate and is there a list