#wanting kids is such a primal desire like. you have to ask yourself:

[anon-confesses]

I want kids more than anything, But my girlfriend. Doesnt- I can have kids on my own since I'm a girl but. I'd risk losing her

I don't. Know what to do. My entire life all I have ever wanted is to be a mother. Thats all I want, Thats all I've ever wanted. I love her and I don't know how to come to a compromise

.

[satorusugurugurl]

jjk men taking care of u in ur third trimester of pregnancy when things get too hard for reader???

JJK Men: When You’re Pregnant

Pairing: Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo, Pregnant!AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 3.9K

Warnings: language, pregnancy themes, hormones, insecurities, fluffy!

A/N: This request was so much fun Nonnie! I love me some fluff! (I haven't had kids yet so I'm going off of movies and stuff I've read! 😅 the craving thought 100% mine from my bean I lost) 💚

Nanami Kento:

“Ugh!”

Kento heard the shout of frustration and looked up from his laptop. That sounded like his lovely wife. But it couldn't be because you were supposed to be in bed. With a soft sigh, Nanami followed the disgruntled groans from the nursery, where he found you pacing the room.

You were stunning, your baby bump straining against the fabric of your maternity shirt. A tiny onesie was resting on your bump, and you used it as a makeshift table to fold clothes. You were a stunning, glowing vision of beauty. But you should be resting in bed.

“Love, just what do you think you’re doing up?”

You jumped, dropping the onesie you held in your hands. “Ken!” you sighed, placing a hand on your lower back as the muscles strained. You scared me!” Your husband's eyes widened as you grabbed the crib, spreading your legs slightly to bend down.

“No! Darling, stop!” Nanami quickly rushed in, dropping down to pick up the onesie. You heard the doctor say you need to be resting. What are you even doing in here?”

“I need to prep the nursery.”

The keyword was needed. Not want or desired; need. And it was a word Nanami had come to know very well over the last eight and a half months. Just like you needed sauerkraut and how you needed tart frozen yogurt at two in the morning. This was your hormones and maternal instincts.

“Ah, you're nesting again.”

The nesting started simple: when you were making the nursery, building the crib, and preparing for your daughter's arrival. Not that you were so close; it seemed you were nursing again, even more now. Glancing around the room, Nanami took in the small load of fresh, dried baby clothes he had planned on folding before finding the diapers and wipes on the changing table.

“She’s going to be here soon. I know it, so I need to hurry up and get ready, " you said, feeling out of breath, which is standard these days.

Nanami could see the exhaustion on your face. He said nothing as he gently took your hand and led you to the rocking chair, helping you sit. You have a breath as you ease into it, watching your husband kneel next to you.

“Love, I understand you have this primal need to nest, but you also need to rest, and that’s the doctor's order.”

“But there’s still so much to do.”

His gentle hand reached out, copying your cheek. “And I’m here to help you. I helped make our darling girl, so I fully intend to help you with everything else.” His tongue gently caresses your cheek, sending a swarm of butterflies fluttering to life in your stomach.

“Kento.” You whisper as big tears, dreaming down their cheeks, followed by a hiccup. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Now tell me what I can do to help.”

“I want to put all the clothes in the dresser and stock the changing table.”

Nanami wasted no time in precisely what you asked, and once that was done, he looked over his shoulder at you. “What else?”

“I wanted to clean and organize the living room.” Nanami headed to the living room, leaving you with tiny socks. Thirty minutes passed before Nanami came back into the nursery.

“All clean out there; what’s next, Love?”

For the next two hours, your husband helped you with your motherly instinct nest., no matter how minimal or massive the task was, from cleaning the bathrooms to opening all the baby bottles. Nanami never complained or looked like you were asking too much from him. He was so helpful that you felt yourself relax more until you sank back into the bed with a smile, relaxing with the pillows.

Nanami fluffed the pillows for you and covered you with a blanket. His smile was so gentle, and his eyes slowly trailed to your stomach. Seeing him smile so fondly melted your heart.

“Come here.” You tugged on his shirt, padding the spot next to you. Without asking why, your husband kicked off his slippers and hopped in bed beside you. “Thank you for all your hard work today; you put all my nerves at ease.” Gently took his hands and placed them on your baby bump. “The two of us appreciate everything you’ve done.”

There was a furnace in your husband’s eyes as he rubbed your tummy gently before leaning down, pressing a kiss between his hands. “I would do anything and everything for my girls.” Because I love them both very much. Much more than words and actions can describe.” You were about to start crying when you hissed out a wince as your daughter kicked your husband.

“I think that was her telling you she loves you too.” You whispered, running your fingers through his soft blonde hair.

“I love her too.” Honey, brown eyes met yours. “And I love you.”

“I love you too, Kento.” That evening, you lay in bed, the house cleaned to perfection, as you and Kento lovingly waited for your darling little girl to arrive.

Gojo Satoru:

“Damn.” You cursed as you looked at yourself in the mirror. You ran your hands down the white and blue floral print maternity dress you wore. People talked a lot about the first and the second trimester: the morning sickness, the cravings, the growing baby bump. But the third trimester had you looking at yourself in a different light. Your body had changed so much while you carried your son; sometimes, you barely recognized yourself, and it did not often make you feel like staying in. “Toru— do we have to go out?”

Your husband suddenly stood by your side, hand held in front of him, and eyed you up and down. “Why? Do you feel alright? Dizzy? Contractions?” You couldn’t see his eyes behind his dark sunglasses, but he was eyeing you as if you were going to shatter. “Do I need to call the doctor?”

“No, no, no, okay, baby.” Relief tag at his mouth as he pushed his sunglasses up to rest on his head.

“Oh good, but why are you asking if we must go out? Do you not feel like going out on the date?”

Going on a weekly date has been recommended by your OB/GYN. She pretty much told you to have as much fun as you could for the next nine months because when your little boy came around, alone would be a thing that was scarce for the first few months. So, of course, you made it a point to go out and do something every Saturday morning. Your little dates were so much fun; you’d have breakfast, shop, and maybe watch a movie. But those fun little dates were beginning to make you feel more like a hassle, especially now that you were nine months pregnant and felt like the size of the house.

Every time you leave the house, the hospital bag must be loaded with you. It took you forever to put on your shoes, and every time your son decided to play kickball with your bladder, you were waddling off to the nearest restroom. Saturday morning dates were less fun, and you felt like they were more of a chore for your husband.

“I want to go, but—” you said out loud, your hands rubbing your baby bump. “I’m having a hard time putting on my shoes.”

“Oh, well, that’s a simple fix!” Your boyfriend has led you to the kitchen, where he pulled out a chair padding the cushion. “Mi, you love cheesy, my Cinderella.” He lifted your sandals, slowly slipping one on before he turned your other foot and slipped the other shoe on. Now we head to our carriage and find the finest breakfast restaurant in Tokyo.”

And you weren’t sure what it was. It could’ve been him calling you his Cinderella, or the fact your shoes were fitting a little too tight nowadays, or maybe it was the fact he was taking you to breakfast, which was something you had been craving all day yesterday. Or it could just be the damn hormones. Satoru blinked, looking up at you, and you didn’t bother to answer his question, and when he met your eyes, he was a mess with a blubbery, teary face.

“Baby? Oh sweetie, what’s wrong?” His concern only made you cry harder. “Sweetheart!”

You wiped your eyes, but no matter how hard you tried to stop, the tears ran down your flushed cheeks. “I—” hic, “I’m sorry—I just feel bad!” The chair beside you scraped against the floor, and when you could look through blurry eyes, you found Satoru sitting right in front of you, gently holding your hands. “I’m not a burden anymore. Always needing more time, I slow down is just, ugh, I’m sorry!” Satoru sat back, nose wrinkling at your words.

“Baby, what are you talking about? You’re not a burden.”

“I-I take too long to walk. You have to put my shoes on, and I constantly have to pee!”

“Sweetpea! Honey, I don’t care if I have to put your shoes on, and I’ll wait for you as long as you need me to. Plus, I hold your bags when you go to the bathroom. I don’t mind doing all those things and one million more because you’re carrying our child. You’ve been through so much: the cravings, hormones, and changes to your body. You truly are incredible.”

Satoru held his breath, watching as tears streamed down your pretty cheeks. “You don’t mind waiting for me? Even though I look like a walking house?”

“Okay, no.” Your husband’s hands flew up, copying both sides of your face. “You are not the size of the house. You’re beautiful, and I love your body. I’m not sure what kind of guy cares about shit like that. But I would love you no matter what. Whether you gain or lose weight, I love you for you.” His thumbs brushed away your tears. “You might not see it, but you are stunning.”

You sniffed, relaxing, leading into his touch. “Really?” Hesitantly, the tears finally stopped.

“Yes! My goddess, you are a radiant vision, sunshine, and human form. And you are a perfect vision.” Satoru’s continue to caress your flushed cheeks. “If I’m being honest, I love our dates on Saturday mornings because I get to be seen next to a beautiful woman like you.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I think you’re confused because I feel like that with you.”

“Is that so?” Smiling as he dropped his hands to your tummy, caressing it lovingly. “Looks like our kid locked out. He’s got two hot parents.” The teasing in his eyes faded. “And he’s going to have the best mommy in the world.”

“And the best, Daddy, " you added, placing your hands on top of his.

“And he’ll be loved immensely.” Satoru pressed against your tummy before kissing your hands. “So what do you want to do, sweetheart? Do you want to go out, or would you prefer to stay in?”

“Well, seeing as you went through the trouble of putting my shoes on for me, let’s go on our date.”

Satoru fist pumps the air before placing his hand on your lower back to help steady you. “Come on, sweetie. I’ll take you to eat wherever you want.” You enter your fingers as you slowly head out of the house towards the car.

“Seeing that it’s your son, he wants French toast.”

“Yep, there’s no denying he’s mine!” Proudly announced as he squeezed your hand tightly.

Geto Suguru:

“Ow, ow, ow!” You paste around the kitchen, hands on your hips, trying to focus on anything other than the ache in your back.

Upon hearing your cries of pain, your boyfriend is around the corner, slipping on the hardwood floor. “What?! Are you okay? Is she okay?” Suguru grabbed your waist, surveying you for any injuries.

“No, we’re both okay.” Suguru visibly relaxed at your words, dropping his head slightly as he tried to catch his breath and calm his racing heart.

“Then why were you saying ow?”

The muscles in your back, your boyfriends, they seized up, screaming in pain. “Nngh!” Your teeth together, grabbing Suguru’s wrist and squeezing as your back twitched and strained. “I-It’s just my back; our little bean isn’t so little anymore.” There was nothing but pure sympathy on your boyfriend’s face as he watched your face contort with pain.

“Oh baby,” he sighed slowly, stepping behind you. “Let me help you.”

You weren’t sure if a massage would be the best thing to do right now. Every nerve in your back was burning with red-hot pain. Laying down in bed didn’t help, and sitting on the couch made it even worse; walking around was the only thing that seemed to alleviate some of the pain.

The thoughts of his thumbs rubbing into the muscles driving you mad had you squirming out of his reach. But due to the nine-month pregnant belly, you were sporting, you weren’t able to move as fast as you had been before. Your attempted move away was futile as Suguru grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you back into his chest.

“Suguru, please don’t give me a massage right now. My back is killing me, and I feel like if you touch it, it’s going to make it worse.”

“Shh, I got you.”

You shut your eyes, waiting For the inevitable pain, as he trailed his hands down the side of your arms before sliding down over your tummy. His hands never ventured back up to your shoulders. Instead, they slid further down underneath the baby bump, resting there for a second. Realizing your back wasn’t in danger, you opened your eyes, glancing down at your tummy as dark strands of hair fell over your shoulder, hair that belonged to Suguru.

“What are—” Without giving you a chance to finish your words, Suguru gently lifted your baby bump slightly, allowing him to hold your daughter's weight, giving your back some much-needed rest. “Oooh~” the relief Washed over you like waves at the beach, “Oh, that feels so good.”

“Yeah, I’m so glad to hear that.” His thumbs brushed over a little sliver of skin as your shirt scrunched up over your tummy. “I saw this little trick online.”

You could feel the pressure being relieved from your muscles, back, and hips. Ten pounds lighter, you felt like you could finally relax with that weight your boyfriend was holding. With a happy sigh, you leaned further against his back. It felt so good.

“You are so amazing. Carrying our baby, thank you.” Soft lips gently trailed over your cheek, running over your jawline as your boyfriend held your daughter's weight off your body. “I’m so thankful for everything you’re doing for us.”

“You're welcome.” You turned your head slightly, pressing a kiss against his lips. “Thank you for being so kind and patient with me.” Your daughter stretched out, leaving you wincing again.

“I just wish there was more I could do for you.”

His words left you feeling baffled. “Suguru, you’ve already done so much. You baby-proofed the house, you put together the crib, which was a nightmare.”

“At least it wasn’t from IKEA.”

“You also go out of your way to get me anything I crave. No matter how gross it is.”

“I don't know. Your last request for hotdogs and cold cream of mushroom soup nearly took me out.”

You moaned in delight at the mention of your late-night snack from a week ago. “It was so tasty! But the point is you do a lot for me, even now,” you whispered, motioning your head towards his hands. “This is everything I had been needing tonight.” Suguru fondly smiled at you, pressing another kiss against your cheek before he began rubbing circles over your stomach.

“This is all you need, Princess?”

“Mhmm~ you, the girls, and our baby.”

“You’re sure? You would let me know if there was anything else I could do for you, right?”

You nodded your head, inhaling the earthy, minty scent that belonged to the father of your child. “I would, but I’m happily content with right here and now.” Suguru felt his smile widen as he gently began easing your bump down so he could properly turn you around to kiss you. But that was his first mistake. A rumbling growl sounded from you, and your eyes shot up toward him in the dark, warning rage.

“Don't you even think about moving your hands.”

“Oh,” He seized up at the apparent anger in your voice. “Right, sorry, baby.” As he continued to hold the baby bump up for you, he could feel the rage leaving your body as he relaxed back against him. Suguru felt like he wasn’t doing enough, but he could tell by the gentle smile that graced your pretty face that he was doing everything he needed for you at that moment. And he didn’t care how he would be standing in the kitchen holding the weight up for you as long as you both were together and happy to do whatever you needed.

Choso Kamo:

Your husband had gone missing, and you weren’t sure where he ran off. One second, he told you that he was heading outside to meet his brother for something, and the next second had turned into two, which turned into an hour, and you were beginning to wonder where exactly he was or what he had gotten himself into. Usually, this sort of thing wouldn’t have bothered you; he was always running off to do stuff with his brothers. But your little one, due any day now, was feeling restless.

They were kicking and punching you in the ribs and bladder, and the typical tricks you use to soothe the little to relax are turning out to be useless. The only thing that seemed to calm them down nowadays was Choso’s voice. He did not even need to do much; as long as he was in the vicinity for your baby to hear, they relaxed almost instantly.

You hated to interrupt his bonding time with his brother, but at the same time, he would like to sit on the couch without feeling the urge to pee, so you just went to the bathroom. The need to sleep and relax somehow fueled you to push yourself out of the recliner and begin waddling around the house in search of Choso or Yuuji.

The last time you saw them, they were heading out to the garage to talk about anything and everything, from Yuuji’s schooling to everything that still needed to be done for the baby's arrival. But all of that can wait for now; right now, you need the comfort of his voice.

Heading out to the garage side, rubbing your tummy as your precious baby shifted again, pulling out a sound of discomfort from you. You couldn’t wait for them to be born so you could hold them, and you were eager for them to stop playing Twister with the inside of your uterus. Just a couple of weeks were left, but Choso was your secret weapon in the meantime.

“Cho?” you asked, looking around the garage. “Babe?”

The car was in the driveway. Both doors to the backseat were left open. For a minute, you felt your heart rate spike because you didn’t find Choso nearby, but before you could panic over what may have happened, a flash of pink hair popped out from the car.

“I don’t think that’s right, Choso.”

“I know, it's just—” Your fiancé got out of the car, scratching the back of his head in apparent annoyance. “How do people do this?”

“I’m as clueless as you are. Maybe I should call Megumi; he’s smart. I bet he could figure it out.”

Choso gently slammed his head repeatedly against the side of the car with a sigh. “This should not be this hard.” You stood off to the side out of sight, and your restless son started to set up the sound of his father’s voice. “We need to figure this out, Yuuji.”

“Why don't we just ask Sis?” Yuuji question referring to you. “She has friends with babies, but doesn’t she have nieces and nephews, too? She would probably know how to put in a car seat.“

Oh, so that’s what they were doing out here. Poor boys had probably been struggling to put it in this whole time. Well, luckily for them, you know how to put in a car seat.

Before you could begin treading down the driveway to help them, Choso shot up, looking at his little brother from across the car. Dark strands of hair bounced as he shook his head. “No, we’re going to figure this out.” you and Yuuji eyed Choso with confused looks.

“Why not Cho?”

“Because she needs all the rest she can get. She hasn’t been sleeping well, but I can do this. I want her to rest. I want to help out with things like this. It’s at least I can do.” the fondest smile plastered his mouth. “Since she’s carrying our baby.”

“Oh, Choso,” you whispered, fighting my tears. He’s been so sweet and attentive during the pregnancy, but he’s been putting in all the effort for the last few weeks. He was cooking, cleaning, taking care of you, packing the hospital bag himself, and, on top of all that, cooking all the meals, making sure he was tending to everything for you. Not a day passed that you didn’t receive a foot or back massage. Was it even possible to fall deeper in love with a man you would spend the rest of your life with?

Yes, it was.

Although the tears were blurring your vision, you could see the understanding on the younger boy's face. “I guess that makes sense.” Yuuji stretched his arms above his head. “But can we please call Megumi?” your fiancé nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, that's fine.”

Seeing that they both had it under control, you quietly snuck back into the house and relaxed on the couch. Another thirty minutes passed before Choso came back inside. He had a wide smile on his face as he sat down on the couch next to you, pressing a kiss against your lips before kissing your tummy.

“Hey, you.”

“Hi,” Choso rested his head on your stomach, his eyes shutting as he felt your son move. “We got the car seat set up. So we’ll be all set for when the day comes.”

Your fingers toyed with his hair, brushing his dark strands back. “Yeah? Thanks for doing that; it wasn't too difficult, was it?” He turned his head slightly to look up at your face.

“Nope!”

“Good,” you looked back towards the garage, “did Yuuji leave?”

“He went to pick us dinner with Megumi; they should be back soon.”

A comfortable silence grew between you as you ran your hands further down his back. “Cho, thank you for taking such good care of us. And thanks for all your hard work.” Choso’s arms snaked around you, holding you as he shook his head.

“I should be the one thanking you.”

“Me?”

“For making me the happiest man in the world, for making me a father, for being my future wife.” His eyes were so warm and full of adoration, “You complete me. So yes, thank you, I love you.”

You couldn't help but grin as you watched him close his eyes. ”I love you too, Choso; we both do.” His smile was contagious as you found yourself following his lead, drifting off to sleep. It was the kind of sleep that was hard and peaceful because you knew you and your son were safe with Choso.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

[catopoliscat]

next time / kento nanami/fem!reader.

who would have thought that kento nanami was a virgin? not you. not after this long. perhaps he was saving himself for someone. perhaps he was waiting for you.

tags: nsfw. 18+. fem!reader. afab reader. penetrative sex. alcohol. dry humping. virgin!nanami. mutual pining. friends to lovers. creampie (wrap it kids). unprotected sex. touch-starved!nanami. canon!verse. you've known nanami since school. tinges of angst. nanami wanted you bad lmao. it's love babey. reader has experience. no use of y/n or any other placeholders. ever. wc: 7.7k. a/n: i kind of fear nanami's a little ooc here lmao, but i've spent too long on this so fuck it we ball he deserves this

also how mad would you be if i said this was set a week before shibuya arc be honest

mdni.

You’re a bottle and half of zinfandel deep when Nanami tells you. 

Although you’re both a little warm, tipsy perhaps, you didn’t think either of you were quite drunk enough for this conversation just yet. It was a regular occurrence for the two of you to share a drink on a Friday, or a bottle in more pressing times. 

There were more bottles than glasses, lately. 

It was just two old friends, catching up. Talking. Complaining--usually about Satoru. Often you’d reminisce on easier times. Warm summers in the Jujutsu High courtyard, the cold tin of a soda in your hands, a bottle of water in his. Quiet talks of dreams and eventualities. Ignoring the gaping absence of a third at between you. 

Tonight though, you’re not sure when the topic had changed. Somewhere between the last dregs of the first bottle and the beginning of the second, the conversation had grown more sombre than usual. Talk of love and relationships always seemed to make the air heavier around the two of you, for different reasons. A stark air of loneliness that not even the most tart of white wine could overpower.

You had offhandedly mentioned turning down one of the windows you had met on your last mission. He had been younger than you, still full of life where the holes in yourself had long since emptied it out. You had shaken your head, flattered, but tired. There were better options for a man like him, still full of hope and vitality, a whole life ahead of him… when you knew any day yours could be cut deftly short. 

You had told yourself it had little to do with the fact that the man’s bright smile had reminded you of another, so many years ago.  

In the quiet of Nanami’s living room, swirling the last drops of your wine in your glass, you had mentioned that you had no real desire for relationships anymore. Other than sex, of course, but only sexual. A temporary release, one of the few you had left. Nameless faces and hurried touches. Sometimes clinical, sometimes primal. Always quick, and never the same person twice. 

You know?

To which Nanami had replied, “No.” 

Misunderstanding the gravity of what he was saying, you had raised an eyebrow, a curious smile playing at your lips. “Not one for one-night stands?” 

It occurs to you distantly that you don’t know a lot about Nanami’s romantic life. Close as you two were, or so you liked to believe, he had never really mentioned it. And you had never asked. 

Nanami had shook his head in response to your question, and you had nodded. It aligned with his character, you thought. As cold and stoic as he liked to act, you couldn’t imagine a world where he would use and discard someone. He felt too much, cared too much. He would love too much too, if given the chance. If he gave himself the chance. 

In your musings, you had almost missed what he had murmured next. 

“I’ve never had sex at all.” 

Kento Nanami. A virgin.

The confession has your lips parting, your eyes blinking. Once, then twice, akin to an owl. You glance down at your wine glass for a moment, as if it had been the slightly smeared glass that had been speaking to you instead, and not the esteemed stoic sorcerer you had known for the better part of ten years. 

You look over at Nanami on the couch, but he’s staring at the carpet, his expression contemplative, almost pensive. His brows are drawn taut, a small knit on his forehead. His lips are drawn into a thin line, a slight crease in his chin. There was a specific emotion dancing in his eyes. You almost dared to use the word vulnerable.

It seems… ridiculous. Nanami? Attractive as he was? Kind, considerate, hard-working, to a degree. A woman’s dream. In another life, perhaps your dream too.

Had it not been for Nanami’s serious demeanour, and the fact that ‘joke’ and ‘Nanami’ rarely went together in the same sentence, you might have thought he was pulling your leg. A joke between friends. 

But he wasn’t. He very clearly wasn’t. 

“That’s… fine,” you finally say after a small moment, fearing you had let the silence linger too long. “There’s no rush for these things.” 

Nanami’s hum is short and clipped. Gruff, almost. He still refuses to meet your eye for now, and you make no move to change that. You get the distinct feeling that this newfound vulnerability doesn’t stem from him never having sex, but rather, the reason why he’s denied himself - because you know for a fact it has little to do with opportunity. 

You had lost track of how many women you had watched Nanami turn down, clipped and short, yet always polite. 

The silence is heavy between you. In the other room, you can hear the hum of his refrigerator, the buzz of the bulbs in the lights. Nanami’s apartment has always been quiet, but this silence feels suffocating. Paired with the wine, your head feels thick, your tongue thicker. 

A few moments pass, and as the revelation of his virginity settles into your stomach like seltzer water, you realise… it makes sense. Nanami wasn’t the type to use someone for sex, even if eager. He’d only have sex with someone he was in love with. Someone he trusted at the very least. 

And Nanami, as he had told you and a few others before, refused to entertain the thought of love whilst he was a sorcerer. No one with two working brain cells needed to ask why. He wasn’t alone in that choice, either. 

You toy with the stem of your wineglass whilst you toy with a reoccurring thought in your mind, one that you entertained often, but had yet to voice aloud. 

“You shouldn’t keep depriving yourself, Kento,” you say quietly. The use of his first name, rarely used in your adulthood, garners you a glance from him. It’s a small sign that you’re taking this seriously. 

“I’m not deprived of anything.” 

You scoff at that, small and quiet. “You deprive yourself of a lot, apart from pain,” you drawl, setting your wine glass down on the coffee table. Like always, the wine and Nanami’s masochistic tendencies have your tongue loosening more than it should. “I understand not wanting to have sex with anyone you’re not in a committed relationship with. It’s kind of… admirable, and definitely you.” You fold your arms across your chest, fixing him with a stare that he still refuses to meet head-on. “But why deny yourself the chance of love?” 

In the back of your mind somewhere is a voice chanting ‘hypocrite’, but you ignore it. Nanami, however, does not. 

He finally turns his head to face you, the lines underneath his eyes seemingly heavier in the dim light of his apartment. An eyebrow arches. “And meaningless sex is different?”

You scoff again, louder this time. “It’s not meaningless just because I don’t love my partner.” 

“Or even know their name?” 

You raise a sharp eyebrow, your own lips now pressing into a thin line. A part of you wants to retort, to snap, but you remember the vulnerability in his face from a few moments ago, and you just about hold your tongue.

With an exhale, you grab the half-empty wine bottle off of the coffee table instead and gesture for Nanami to hold out his glass. He does, and the glug of the wine fills the space between you.

“You ever thought about it?” You ask, filling up your own glass. In your peripheral, you see him sit quietly for a moment before he nods his head. 

“I’m only human.” 

You hum. “You should experience it,” you add. You swirl the wine in your glass once before bringing it up to your lips. “Even once. Even if it means nothing.”  

With one glance, you can tell immediately that the idea doesn’t sit right with him. It was easy to forget sometimes how rigid and traditional he could be. Formalities that few seemed to care about these days. Always on the things you least expected. 

“I couldn’t,” Nanami replies, shaking his head. 

Oddly, you feel the desire to insist. Days of a sorcerer were short, and getting shorter every year. Younger than yourself and Nanami had already died long before they would ever have the opportunity to touch another, kiss another; to feel the warmth of a body against your own. They would never know what that distinct pleasure was like, even if they desperately wanted to. Time was infinite to the young, until it wasn’t.  

It occurs to you quickly that you’re thinking of Haibara, and everything you and Nanami had experienced that he never would. 

Something must show in your expression because Nanami raises an eyebrow at you. You swallow, before setting your glass back down on the coffee table with a dull clink. You look at him, your face surprisingly collected and casual for what you’re about to ask. 

“What about me?” 

Nanami’s questioning look only deepens for a moment, before something passes by his eyes. His lips part, his version of a falter. You know he knows what you’re implying, but still, he asks, “…what about you?” 

“What if we had sex?” You say without hesitation. “You know me. You trust me.” 

Nanami falters further. He straightens in his seat, his glass resting on his thigh, the thick muscle straining against his slacks. His whole body is thick with a tension you usually only see before a fight with a particularly highly graded curse. A vein protrudes from his neck.

His eyes flick between your face and your own glass, clearly wondering if it is time to call this night done, but you rise from your seat before he can, taking a small step toward the couch he’s sitting on. 

You sit down next to him, a little closer than you usually might. He doesn’t move away. Your thigh brushes against his, and this close, you can hear his breath hitch in response. 

“I’m not going to push this any further, Kento,” you say quietly, “but I’m letting you know it’s an option.” 

Although you and Kento were hardly affectionate with one another like most friends, you decided to take a chance tonight. You had already taken several, what was one more?

Reaching out, you take his glass from his hand and set it next to yours on the coffee table. Hesitating only a moment, you place your hand on top of his, your fingers curling around until your fingertips touch his palm.

His hand is stiff and warm underneath your own. The bones and knuckles press against your skin.

Something in the back of your mind is wondering why you’re pushing this at all. Would it matter if Nanami died without experiencing the pleasures of the body, really? Would the world stop turning for either of you? You know if Nanami really wanted to, if he felt the want, the desire - then he could leave this apartment right now and find someone willing, someone other than you. He could have done so years ago, during those few years he had masqueraded as a normal human being with a nine-to-five. 

You were risking a friendship over… what? The implied hopes and dreams of a dead fifteen-year-old? Haibara was dead. It didn’t matter to him whether Nanami experienced the things he never could. 

Nanami’s gaze flickers between your eyes for a moment, and this close, you can see the faint traces of the wine staining his lips. Your gaze must linger for a touch too long because his tongue swipes across his bottom lip. The pink skin glistens with the faint glimmer of his saliva.

When you look up, you see his eyes trained on your own lips, before they quickly flick back up to meet your eyes. 

“We’re friends,” he murmurs, his voice low, slightly thick. 

“And we always will be,” you reply.

He glances down at your hands. Somewhere between your own thoughts and Nanami’s reiteration of your friendship, your hands had interlocked, fingers intertwined like vines. He was gripping your hand a little too tightly to be comfortable, but you didn’t flinch. 

You’re not sure whether it had been your subconscious doing, or his. 

“I… can’t,” Nanami mutters finally, closing his eyes for a moment. “Not like this. Not… now.” 

Something clenches in your heart at his rejection, although you had expected it. You’re not sure if it’s because he’s denying you, or himself. 

You smile softly nonetheless and nod. “If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me,” you say quietly, going to pull your hand from his grip and give him some space. 

Only he doesn’t let go. If anything, his grip tightens slightly. 

Your eyes flick between his hand and his eyes, still trained on your face. You raise an eyebrow, your lips parting to speak, but he beats you to it. 

“But I’d like to kiss you.” 

Something resembling a very quiet ‘uh’ pushes past your lips in a long exhale.

You’re not sure why the idea of kissing him felt more… intimate than the fact that you had offered your body to him only seconds prior. You’re not sure why there’s a prickle of heat at the back of your neck or your lips burn with a sudden need.

“Nanam-“

As if remembering himself, he shakes his head slightly, blinking away whatever stupor had just possessed him. He looks away, his grip on your hand loosening, but not quite pulling away. 

“I… don’t know why I said that,” he mumbles. “You should go-“

Your free hand is already gripping his chin, turning his face toward yours a little too sharply. A subtle grunt leaves his throat as he looks at you, his gaze foggier than usual. From the wine, you, or the whole situation? Who knows. 

Fingers against his neck, feeling the quickened thrum of his pulse, your thumb brushes against his chin, pulling the skin until his lips naturally part. You feel Nanami’s shaky exhale against your lips as you lean forward, warmth breath mingling with yours, the scent of wine heavy on the air. 

You close the distance slowly, giving him time to stop this, to pull or push away. To draw an end to this nonsense before it went any further. 

Instead of pulling back or pushing you away, he closes the gap so quickly your noses almost bump together. 

The first press of his lips against you feels hurried and unsure. It’s off-center slightly, barely hitting the corner of your mouth, but Nanami is quick to correct it. He slots his lips against yours more firmly the second time, his lips parting to capture yours fully. You feel a rush of air against your cheek as he exhales through his nose. 

The kiss is unhurried, curious almost, yet there’s a subtle urgency in it that surprises you. Your free hand moves from his chin to his jaw, fingertips softly caressing the sharp curve of it. The sound and feel of his sigh against your lips makes you shiver, and you become enamoured with it. 

Enamoured with him.

You part your lips further, your tongue swiping against his bottom lip, finally tasting the remnants of the wine that you had spotted earlier. An odd sound builds at the back of his throat before his mouth parts too, his tongue brushing against yours. 

Something changes quickly then. His hand, larger than you ever really noticed, cups the back of your neck, his calloused thumb pressing against your jaw, drawing you closer. Your other hands, still intertwined, seem to tighten around one another like a snake's coils. The wet smacks of your lips grow louder in the quiet of his apartment, just about overriding the sound of increasingly ragged breaths, borderline panting. 

Your head feels thick. Dizzy. The kiss is indulgent, almost sloppy now. Nanami’s tongue is in your mouth, exploring every crevice, tasting you with an eagerness you hadn’t thought he was capable of. Every time you brush your tongue against his, your taste buds wetly sliding against his own, a small sound rumbles in the back of his throat, somewhere between a groan and grumble. 

After a moment that feels like an eternity too short, you pull back slightly, just enough to see his eyes as you open yours. Nanami denies you this, however, because when you open your eyes, his are still closed, almost scrunched. A faint frown tugs at his brow. 

He leans forward until his forehead rests against yours. The heat of his skin against yours feels searing, your noses softly brushing against one another’s. He sighs deeply, as if pulled from the back of his chest. It almost sounds like defeat. 

“Kento-“

“I want you,” he breathes out, and your voice almost hitches as you feel rather than hear his voice. It’s a deep, husky sound, more rumble than syllable. But there’s a crack in his tone belying a raw vulnerability that you weren’t familiar with. Not from him.

His eyes finally open, looking up at you from underneath his brow. His hazel eyes are almost black, you realise, the familiar colour you’ve always admired swallowed up by a sea of coal. You wonder if yours are the same. 

He’s trembling too. You can feel his fingertips shake where they press against the nape of your neck. 

“I thought you didn’t want… this,” you murmur. ‘Sex’ suddenly feels too…

“I changed my mind,” he replies, a touch too quickly for you to believe that he was thinking clearly. 

But God, did you want him too. You want him so fucking bad it almost makes you ache. Your feelings toward Nanami had always been friendly, respectful. He had been your closest friend, your ally, your confidant. You had been through so much together. You liked him, every part. 

And somewhere along the way, between the four years apart as he pursued a different life and the first time you had hugged him when he finally returned, Gojo grinning over his shoulder… you think, that like had changed to love.

It quickly occurs to you that you weren’t pushing Nanami to experience sex for fear of him missing out. That was you. You were scared of missing out on him.

It’s that revelation that makes you pull back slightly, and Nanami’s eyes widen a little, some of the hazy fog clearing. His hand slides from the back of your neck, falling limply against the couch next to your thigh. 

“I… I shouldn’t have put you in this position,” you mutter, glancing away, staring at the two wine glasses on the coffee table before looking back at him. “It’s your choice. Your first time should be on your terms, not because I think you’re missing out or depriving yourself.”

You go to remove your hand from his, but once again, his grip tightens, but there’s a tenderness to it this time. A gentle squeeze, almost begging you not to go. Not yet. 

He looks serious now, staring at you squarely, as if about to deliver a mission report, and its the first familiar expression you’ve seen on his face thus far. He swallows thickly, the only thing belying his hesitation. 

“I said I couldn’t have a one-night stand.” 

You frown. “And th-“

“I don’t want this to be a one-night stand.” 

Some of the breath flees your lungs as you look at him. His lips are still pink and slightly swollen from kissing, his cheeks still slightly flushed from the wine and your touch. You become distinctly aware of the scent of his cologne, faded but warm from his skin. It’s soft, smoky almost. You have the urge to bury his nose in the crook of his neck and breathe.

You know what he’s trying to say, what he’s trying to ask. You know what he wants because you want it too. You realise you’ve wanted it for a long damn time. 

Words fail you. They feel… inadequate to describe what you’re feeling, what you desire, what you’ve always desired buried down underneath the guilt and trauma. 

But you still can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. Not here. Not yet. 

And neither can he.

You’re not sure who makes the first move, all you know is that your lips are pressed against his and he moans into your mouth as if something had finally let go. It’s like a cork had finally been released, a lifetime of pent-up feelings pouring out in one gush. 

His hand is back at the nape of your neck, holding you tightly this time, unwilling to let go. His lips part more readily with every press, his tongue seeking yours with a pinpoint determination. You skip his jaw this time altogether, aiming straight for his hair that you’ve been dying to touch since… you don’t know when. 

The hand that had been holding yours hostage finally releases, only so his fingers can brush against your waist. His fingers brush against your ribs through your clothes, tugging you closer until you’re rising up onto your knees on the couch just to oblige. He’s tilting back, his broad shoulders bumping against the couch cushions behind him - and it’s only distantly you register it’s because you’re pushing him back against it. 

Something shouts at you in the back of your mind to take your time, to savour this, to savour him. You may want each other badly, but this is Nanami’s first time. It should be done carefully, respectfully, the way he would treat you if this position had been reversed. 

But then Nanami’s hand has moved from your waist to your thigh, blindly grabbing it as he pulls it over his lap. Before you know it, you’re straddling his hips with a huff against his lips, and something like a sharp, pained groan leaves his lips. 

You pull away from his lips with a ragged breath, concern knitting your brow until you realise what the cause of his groan was. 

Straddling him, you can feel the pulse of his desire underneath you, the hard ridge of the bulge in his pants pressing insistently against your core through your own clothes. One hand is grabbing your hip tightly, almost too tight, as his forehead rests against your shoulder. The other hand is on your thigh, his thumb digging into the plush flesh there. 

His breathing is ragged, extremely so. Hot puffs fall against your skin. You weave your fingers through his hair softly, and you watch with reverence as a strong shudder rolls down his spine in response.

“We can stop, if you’d like,” you murmur against his ear, going to rise up on your knees to give him a little breathing room.

“Don’t,” he grunts, the grip on your hip and thigh quickly stopping you. He exhales again, a shaky sound as he keeps his forehead stamped against your shoulder. His voice emerges again, barely audible, slightly pained. “...I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Your grip in his hair tightens in response. In a flood, memories of him rush through your mind. A thousand different glances, subtle touches, small clues. Even in school, the way he would linger, a touch closer every time Suguru or Satoru would appear. The hand at the bottom of your back in a restaurant. The way he would lean in to hear you in a crowded place. 

The way his arms had tightened around you when he had returned after four years away. I missed you too, almost inaudible against your ear. 

Nanami didn’t want a one-night stand. What was the point of sex at all, if it wasn’t with you? 

The thought has you rolling your hips down against his before you can stop yourself, feeling the firm length of his cock grind against your core. A moan leaves your lips, and something guttural leaves his. 

The hand on your thigh moves up to your other hip, pulling you down tighter against him as if he could slide inside you right now. “Don’t tease,” he hisses between clenched teeth. He turns his head slightly, his lips brushing against your neck. He leaves a searing, open-mouthed kiss against your pulse point. “Not now, not after this long.” 

“You think you’re the only one who waited?” You pant as you grind again, firmer this time. His hips buck against yours in response, a muffled groan leaving his lips, imprinted against your neck. You can feel his cock throb against you, twitching against the fabric that separates you. 

“…you wanted this too?” He breathes out after a moment. 

You nod, though you doubt he can see it from the way his face is buried against the crook of your neck. “Since you came back. Since you hugged me back and said you missed me.” 

His hands move from your hips to wrap tightly around your waist as if he couldn’t bear for a single slither of space to be left between you two. His hips jut up against you once again, a ragged breath leaving his lips. It seems the idea of you wanting him for so long the same as he had the same effect on him as it had on you. If not more. 

He holds you a little tighter, running the sharp point of his nose along your throat as he tilts his head up. Finally, finally, he breaks free of your neck to look up at you, lips parted, eyes almost desperate. 

With a thick swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing, he goes to say something but falters, and murmurs your name instead. His dark eyes flick between your eyes and your lips. His cock twitches underneath you. 

“Please,” is all he can croak out, and the moan that almost leaves your lips would have been primal. 

You nod your head, giving his shoulders a small squeeze, pushing him back slightly. He seems reluctant to let go, but finally relents after a little insistence, reclining back against the couch. His arms unwind and his hands drop to your hips. He looks up at you, clearly waiting for your lead. 

You sit back slightly on his parted thighs, the muscles firm and supportive underneath you. Letting your hands fall from his shoulders, you drag your fingertips slowly down over the expanse of his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his wrinkled shirt. As your fingers skate over his abdomen, you feel the muscles flex and roll. Nanami looks at you readily. 

“We should do this properly,” you murmur, your eyes trained on the lower buttons of his shirt, near the waistband of his slacks. “In a bed.” 

Nanami, to your surprise, shakes his head quickly, giving your hips a small squeeze. “We’ve waited long enough.” 

You raise an eyebrow but don’t disagree. Despite the need, the ache, the pulse of your own core, you can’t help but think of if the positions were reversed. The image of candles, roses and soft music fills your mind, Nanami’s guiding hands and murmured praises. It would be slow and romantic. Perfect. 

“Nanami,” you breathe out, almost chastising. With the way his cock is pressing against you, you have no doubt he’s not thinking clearly right now; the thought of having what he had wanted for so long within his grasp clouding rational thought. 

He shakes his head again, a lock of his mussed hair tickling his brow. “Next time.” He shifts, sliding down the couch a little more and spreading his thighs - and in turn, spreading yours. He grips your hips tighter, pulling you a little closer until you’re seated right on top of him. “Next time,” he repeats in a groan. “We’ll go slow. I’ll explore every inch of you, taste you. Now, I just want…” He exhales an unsteady breath, sounding like your name. “I just want you.” 

Your fingers linger near his shirt's lower button, and one of Nanami’s hands unclasps itself from your hip to gently grasp your wrist. He guides your fingertips to the belt buckle, the metal cool against your hot fingers. 

You meet his eyes once more, and his gaze is a paradox of firmness and vulnerability. He’s nervous, you think, but ready. Almost desperately so. 

Without another word, your other hand reaches down to join your other one, and your fingers are surprisingly deft as you slide the leather through the metal. Nanami watches your hands with rapt attention until the belt is loose. Your fingers slide over the metal button of his slacks, and you don’t check in this time. You pop it open before sliding his zipper down, the crackle of the metal teeth as loud as a gunshot between you.

A small sigh of what you think is relief leaves his lips as the fabric parts, giving you a small glimpse of the dark boxers underneath, straining over his cock. A small wet patch blooms at the top, wear his tip would be, and a shudder runs through you. 

Your fingers tuck into the waistband of his underwear, lingering for a moment. You look up at him at the same time he looks up at you. Without a sound, Nanami lifts his hips and you rise up to your knees. 

With a few firm tugs, you manage to inch his slacks and boxers down enough to free him. A small huff leaves his lips as the cooler air of the apartment hits his overheated flesh, and you watch in rapt attention as his cock twitches, the flushed tip glistening already.

It’s longer than you expected. Thicker too. Uncut. A prominent vein runs up the underside of it, and you have the sudden urge to follow it with your finger, or your tongue. 

Nanami shifts underneath you, and you realise you’ve been staring a touch too long.

You pull your eyes away from his cock to meet his eyes, and his breathing seemed to have quickened. Anticipation is making him stiff, almost antsy, a rare sight on a man you’ve rarely ever seen anything of other than composed. 

It’s endearing. 

Reaching down, you satisfy your own urge and run your fingertip up his shaft, following the vein, feeling it pulse steadily to the rhythm of his heart. Nanami’s hips twitch, his eyelids fluttering. Dark eyelashes tickle his cheeks.

When you curl your fingers around him, gripping him firmly at the base, his eyes shoot open, snapping to the sight of him in your palm. You give him one pull upwards, and a bead of pre-cum wells in the divot of his slit. 

“Fuck,” comes out in a very quiet, gruff choke. Your eyebrows rise in surprise, a small smile on your lips. Nanami didn’t always curse, and especially not like that. 

“Language, Nanami,” you tease, and his eyes flick up to you, something indignant and impatient in his eyes. You usually weren’t one to tease, and he wasn’t one to be teased. 

You continue to stroke him slowly for a moment, rubbing your thumb against the sensitive tip. You fingers quickly become tacky, the glide of your hand more fluid, until the lewd wet noise starts to rise to the same level as Nanami’s breathing. He grunts with every upward stroke, his hips twitching underneath you. Had it not been for your weight on top of him, you get the distinct feeling he’d be bucking up into your palm a little more eagerly. His head falls back against the couch, lips parted, his eyes fluttering closed once more as he relaxes more into the sensation. 

It occurs to you that you’ve seldom seen Nanami this relaxed. 

“Are you sure you want to do this here?” you ask, “with me on top?” 

He nods but doesn’t open his eyes. His hands run up from your hips to your waist, a soft caress. “It’ll be… easier for me- hah-“ Another choked groan leaves his lips as you give the head of his cock a small squeeze, and Nanami’s hand flies to your wrist in a blink, stopping you from making another move. 

You feel his cock throbbing in your grasp, and Nanami’s straight-up panting now, his eyes slightly wild as he tilts his head up to look at you. It’s an arousing reality to know that you had just pushed Nanami dangerously close to the edge without even meaning to. 

“I won’t last,” he murmurs, looking up at you, his eyes shining.

 You realise quickly that he’s actually asking a question. Are you sure? 

“This time,” you reply with a small smile. With his hand still around your wrist, you give his cock another squeeze, and he grits his teeth, that vein in his neck protruding once more. You can see the taut muscles in his abdomen flexing from where his shirt has bunched up. 

As much as the idea of making Nanami cum, right here, right now, appeals to you, you relent for now. You’d love nothing more than to watch him spill into your palm, to see the euphoria and bliss play out on his face… but that was for another time. The next time, perhaps. 

You release his cock, letting it fall back against his lower stomach with a dull smack, making him hiss through his teeth. Leaning forward, you brush your lips against his throat, nipping at the skin softly. 

You guide his hands to the waistband of your own bottoms, and he wastes little time in following your unspoken order. The press of your lips against his throat clearly distracts him, but he manages to pull down your clothes enough to leave you in your underwear. You kick them off the sofa haphazardly, not leaving his neck for a single moment. 

He catches you off guard when his hand immediately dives for your sex, cupping your heat through the dampened fabric. You stutter against his neck, gripping onto his shoulders for support in response. 

Your eyelids close, goosebumps erupting across your skin as you feel just how wet you are. “Nanami,” you gasp.

“Kento,” he whispers quickly. Once, then twice, he rubs his palm along your clothed pussy, something guttural building in the back of his throat as you buck down into his touch. “You’re… so wet.” 

The wet spot on the fabric clings tightly to your folds, doing very little to dampen the sensation of his touch. His fingers are exploratory, a tentativeness that belies his lack of experience with this, but his touch, the fact it’s him, here and now, makes up for it all. 

You can’t remember the last time you enjoyed a touch such as this. Not like this. 

Despite toying with Nanami’s cock until he almost burst, hypocritical impatience gets the better of you, and you remove your hand from his shoulders to tug down your own underwear, kicking it off to join the growing pile on the floor. Bare from the waist down, Nanami’s eyes roam over the exposed skin almost hungrily. 

Both calloused hands run up your thighs, pressing into the soft flesh slightly. You see his hand move for your pussy once more, but your fingers are curling back around his cock again before he can distract you. 

Next time, keep parroting in your mind. Next time you can both endure hours of foreplay; touching, kissing, tasting, the whole nine yards. You promise to make him cry out before he even sinks inside you, to run your tongue along every inch of his skin until you’re sick of the taste of him. You’d know he’d do the same. 

But you two had waited long enough. 

Gripping the base of his cock again, you brush it up against your heat, your own slick smearing across him. Nanami’s eyes almost roll back into his head, but he closes his lids before you witness it. You’re faring little better, the mere sensation of having him against you like this, the tip of his cock rubbing up against your clit sending you dizzy. You angle your hips, and just feeling the thick head press against the tight, slick ring of muscle is enough for a moan to already tumble past your lips. 

Something flickers in Nanami’s gaze as he opens his eyes again, honing in on the sight of you braced above him like this. He grips your hips, his touch light, merely supporting you for now. You look back once into his eyes, and go to check in just once more, but he leans forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s little more than teeth and raw need. 

His lips pressed against yours, you sink down, the wider head of his cock slipping inside you. Your lips part in a soundless gasp against his mouth, swallowing the ragged groan that leaves his throat. The stretch is slightly more than you’re prepared for. Distantly, you think, skipping foreplay wasn’t the wisest idea, but desperation, need, pushes you forward regardless. 

So you sink down further, inch by inch, and as he slides deeper and deeper, his grip on your hips grows tighter and tighter, until the force of his fingers dulls the ache of his cock kissing your cervix. 

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp as you finally bottom out, hips sitting on top of his. You realise you’re breathless, and that cowgirl might not have been the best position for taking someone of his size. Certainly not in one go, like you just had. 

Nanami is fairing no better. His mouth is agape, his biceps trembling where he clings to you. He seems dazed, winded, panting into your mouth as his arms wind against you. He pulls you forward, and you both moan as his cock seems to slide just that little bit deeper. 

You’re dizzy, strained, stretched out far more than you can ever remember being before. Your eyes are scrunched closed, your forehead knocking against his. Everything feels distant and muffled. It takes you a moment to realise Nanami’s muttering something repeatedly in fragmented gasps.

When you open your eyes, he’s looking at you almost panicked, his eyebrows knitted upward. His teeth are bared, gritted - and it’s now you notice that you’re clenching around him so tight that you’re not sure if you’re causing him more discomfort than pleasure.

You swallow thickly, trying to catch your breath. You’re flushed, prickly heat blooming across your chest and neck. You shift a little, and something pained rumbles from the back of Nanami’s chest in response.  

“Do you want me to stop or-“

“Don’t,” he grunts, his fingers shaking against your back. “Don’t move.” 

The throb of his cock inside you is insistent, and it takes everything in you not to clench tighter around him in response. You know he’s close, dangerously close, and as much as you want to rise up on your knees and slam yourself down on his cock until he’s begging you to stop, you clench your jaw and relax. 

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, kissing his skin softly; small pecks and affectionate touches. He shivers, and his cock still pulses, but slowly, muscle by muscle, he relaxes too, ragged pants dissolving into hot, muted breaths. His arms around you loosen, holding now, not gripping. 

“Tell me when you want me to move,” you whisper against his ear, pressing a small kiss to the lobe. 

He nods, brushing his cheek against yours with a soft sigh. His hand moves from your back upward, until he cups the back of your head, drawing your lips back to his. It’s a soft kiss, loving; slow and sensual slides of wet skin mingling with gentle exhales. Before you know it, and before he says, you’re rolling your hips greedily, just grinding against him for now. 

A guttural sound leaves his lips. His forehead feels hot and sticky pressed against yours like this, a strand of his hair tickling your cheek. 

You feel his thighs shift, widening as far as the slacks still around his thighs can allow, feet planted more firmly into the carpet. The first roll of his hips is disjointed, off rhythm with your own, but the slight drag of his cock against your walls has you moaning brokenly. The second roll, a little more confident, has you pressing your hips down to meet it, and your back arches like a cat.

“Fuck yes,” you moan, your voice thick and throaty. You moan his name, wait for the third shallow thrust, and meet it. “You feel so fucking good.” 

He looks up at you like you hung the stars, his eyes widening at the sound of his name tumbling past your lips like a fractured halo. He loses his rhythm, but you soon pick it back up for him, starting to use your thighs to slide more eagerly down his cock. It’s still shallow, Nanami’s arms around your waist preventing you from really going for it, but you’re unwilling to part from the closeness for now. 

You bounce a few inches at a time, the dull clap of your hips and the lewd squelch of your hot cunt wrapped tight around him filling the air of the apartment. With each bounce, a grunt pushes out from his chest, hot breath fanning across your face. 

Nanami, though inexperienced, starts to let his body guide him. His hips buck up to meet you more confidently, and the growing force of his movements has you keening, fingernails biting into his shoulders. 

You look square into his hooded eyes, breath mingling, and see the flush across his skin, his lips glistening with saliva. You moan again, higher pitched this time, and Nanami’s next thrust has you jolting up a little, nose bumping against his. You clench around him again, and his brow knits together. 

“S-Shit,” he pants, his hips starting to jolt more readily, pushing a little too forcefully into you, quickly losing his rhythm. “I’m not… I’m not going to last…” His movements quicken, grow more erratic, and you’re not even sure he realises. “… you’re so fucking… tight.” 

The last part is little more than a throaty whisper, his voice cracking. You stop meeting his thrusts and instead, widen your stance, tighten your core, and let him take what he needs. The movement, though small, isn’t lost on him, and he looks up at you, emotion swimming heavily in his dark gaze. 

He thrusts up grow more erratic, sloppier, something like a grunt leaving his mouth with every dull thwap of his hips against your ass. His arms tighten around you, fingertips pressing into your skin. A groan, a hiss, and a swallow. The couch creaks and strains. 

“N-Next time - hah - next time… I want t-to feel you cum around me,” he pants, his arms starting to shake. “I’ll give you everything, anything, fuck, I-I’ll keep going until… until… God-“ 

He’s barely pulling out now, a mere inch is all he’s moving, the head of his cock bullying against the soft spot right next to your cervix. Choked, high-pitch moans are the only sounds you can make, and you distantly note you’ve never sounded like before. Not ever. 

You’re getting there, you realise. Not quite close, and definitely not as close as him, but the way his cock fits inside you, the slap of his hips against you, the way he’s looking at you… it’s pushing you there fast. 

But it’s not quite enough. 

“I’m close,” he gasps. “I… where…” 

“Inside,” you reply without hesitation. Something passes by his eyes, a small flicker of concern, perhaps, swimming in the sea of lust and arousal. You try to find your bearings enough to tell him it’s okay, you wouldn’t have taken him inside if you weren’t protected-

-but then his cock is twitching inside you, and Nanami is shaking, shaking underneath you, his thighs jolting, nearly bucking you off his lap altogether. 

With one last slam of his hips against you, buried as deep as he could possibly ago, a long, primal groan leaves him. It’s deep, visceral, easily mistaken for something pained - and it might be the most divine fucking sound you’ve ever heard in your life. 

He buries his face against your throat as his hips buck involuntarily a few times, and you shiver as you feel that familiar warmth bloom inside you. He’s giving you everything, or what feels like it. Your pussy flutters around him, and his fingertips press into you so tight you wouldn’t be surprised to see bruises. 

His heart is hammering against your chest, the thump pounding even in your own chest. Ragged pants and a heavy quiet settles over the living room. His cock continues to twitch inside you, growing weaker with every thud of his heart. 

Nanami doesn’t pull his head from your throat for a long while, his nose pressing into your skin as he pants against you. 

After a moment, he finally swallows. “… I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I… I should have made you-“ 

“Shut up,” you murmur against his warm hair, breathing in the faint scent of sweat and his shampoo. He seems to get the picture, of what you were trying to say. He always did. “Next time,” you add anyway, just to be sure. 

He lifts his head from your skin, looking up at you blearily. You smile fondly as you see his face again, the harsh lines on his brow and his eyes smoother now, no longer creased as they always seemed to be. He looks… so much younger, you think, like this. Relaxed. Sated. 

You brush some of his sweaty hair out of his face, and his eyelids flutter at the brief contact. He seems exhausted, you think.

“I meant what I said,” he murmurs as he looks up at you. “I don’t want this to…” His palm moves against your back, sliding down your spine. “I want you. Properly. I always have.” He swallows. “Always.” 

Your eyes soften. He looks at you expectantly, almost vulnerably. 

“You have me,” you murmur in reply, finally. “Properly.” 

A small smile tugs at his lips, and it’s warmer than you’ve ever seen before. Genuine. Light. It’s as if a decade of weight lifts from his broad shoulders, if only briefly. 

He pulls you close once more, his lips pressing against yours softly, lovingly, and the world seems to fade away. 

For now, of course. 

masterlist.

[lsofial]

Heya ^^ I'm wondering which jjk men do you think r dom/sub/switch?

Hard Doms

They don't make love. They fuck. They want complete control over you and won't tolerate any attempts at taking it from them - if you dare trying, they will punish you harshly. Definitely the type to fuck your throat, spank you, grab your neck, push your face onto the pillow. You always find yourself begging them to stop but they never care and just keep using you over and over again, like the insatiable primal creatures they are. Their only goal is to use your body so as to make themselves feel good and satisfy their most primitive and animalistic desires. They don't care about your pleasure and they don't care about satisfying you. They don’t seek connection, they don’t want to open up to you and if you tried to know more about their private and/or professional life, they would definitely tell you that you’re just his personal sex toy, so, you should know your place. They would advise you to stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. To them, your opinions are worth nothing, unless requested by them. They will manhandle you on the bed like a ragdoll and do whatever they want to. It doesn’t matter if you try to take control or if you become bratty, because they know it will always end the same way – you under them, crying, pleading them to stop while they grin menacingly, thrusting into you at an animalistic pace. Definitely the type of men to say something like “you should’ve thought about that beforehand. Now take your punishment like the good girl you are. If you cum, before I give you permission, you’ll have to handle this cock for another hour”. They are real menaces; these men will drive you absolutely insane. The mind games they play with you will make you go crazy. You will be having sex over 4 to 7 times a day (depending on their availability). They are absolutely the worst boyfriends, on this list (or husbands, if you, somehow, manage to marry them), and will be terrible parents (very neglectful, demanding and abusive), but will give you the best sex of your life. With these men you have to stay safe - use protection because they don’t care about getting you pregnant. It’s your problem and not their fault. You will, most likely, end up raising the kid alone and if you don’t have a consistent sex routine with them, they will find someone else who will fulfill their needs. Toys hurt their pride. If you use them, these men will punish you. They will overstimulate you with them until you can't feel your legs anymore, fuck you dumb on their cock and after you cum, they will say something like "why do you use this, if you can't even handle my cock inside you for 10 minutes? Aren't you stupid..." They will fuck you anywhere, anytime. You belong to them and they will do whatever they want whenever they want. If you’re not available, they will make sure you become available. Menacingly too good at dirty talking. They will say the most vulgar things to you, while looking into your teary eyes, with a grin on their faces, fucking you roughly, as if their survival depended on it. They have great durability, so they prefer sex with multiple rounds and can last all night long if they want to. Sessions with these men are very rough. They will wear you out and rearrange your insides. They will make you cry, salivate, moan and orgasm multiple times, throughout the entire deed, leaving your body extremely sore. They don't give a damn about aftercare. You can take care of yourself. - Ryomen Sukuna, Zenin Toji, Zenin Naoya

Soft Doms

They don't fuck. They make love to you. Very slow gentle passionate lovers who are eager to make you feel good. These men have your pleasure placed as their top priority, always asking you for your consent, wanting to know if it feels good, if you want a faster or slower pace, if you want them to go deeper, if you want a different angle or position, if you want them to pull your hair, if you want them to say dirty things to you, if you want to be fondled or kissed somewhere, if you want them to use a toy on you, etc. These men seek connection - emotional and spiritual. They trust you, they open up to you, they let their walls down and warmly invite you in. They aren’t making love to a random person. They are making love to the only one they want to spend their lives with. The most romantic men ever, kissing you while making love to you, staring into your eyes, admiring your beautiful body under theirs, watching how it gracefully moves along their pace every time they thrust into you, while whispering how good you feel and how much they love you, into your ears. These men usually have a busy schedule so you won’t be making love as often as you’d both like, however, expect doing it at least once or twice a day. They definitely are the best boyfriends/husbands and will be the best parents. They don’t want you to get pregnant because of their risky professional field and busy schedule, but if it happens, they will be thrilled and will help you in whatever way they can (by studying everything about babies and how to properly care for them, reading material on how to educate and bond with children, making sure you have everything you need in your maternity bag and knowing in which ways he can help before and after the baby is born). They will be there for you and your child and probably will want more kids, after the first one arrives. In case your sex life is affected by the birth of a child (or some other circumstance), they will handle this, just the same way they handle any other problem or obstacle in your relationship – by discussing it with you, respecting your boundaries and finding a common ground for both of you to stand on, working, as a team, on a solution that will make you both happy, overcoming every challenge, as a healthy and strong couple. Kings of aftercare. They always want to know if you enjoyed it and/or if you want a round 2. These men will dote on you and help you with whatever you need (cuddles, towels, shower, tissues, food, etc.) They will definitely make sure you know and you feel all the love they have for you. - Kento Nanami, Hiromi Higuruma, Okkotsu Yuta, Itadori Yuji, Fushiguro Megumi, Atsuya Kusakabe, Geto Suguru

Subs

They prefer you to have control over everything, so you can set up your own pace and do whatever you want to them. Watching you working so hard, trying to reach your orgasm turns them on even more. They always wait for you to have the initiative and to make the first move. They enjoy grabbing and groping your hips, butt and chest, while you ride them. They are lazy lovers who prefer laying back, either looking at you, or having their eyes closed shut, savoring every second, while moaning. Sometimes you wonder how these strong masculine men end up looking so frail and desperate beneath you. They think you look so pretty on top of them - it's the only moment when they can freely scan through you as if they were conducting an extensive and thorough analysis on every detail of your body, wondering how lucky they are for having been the one to snatch your precious heart. For the most part you will be on top, having the exclusive power to decide whatever happens, however, there will be times when they will grab your hips and thrust deep into you, even though they're on the bottom, either helping you adjusting to a different pace or angle that feels even better or, sometimes, trying to dominate you from the bottom, showing you how they want you to make love to them and attempting to have some control, working with you so as to reach your climax. They may ask you to do things for them (speeding up the pace, fondling a sensitive spot, using a certain toy, stimulating yourself, while they watch, etc.), will say dirty things to you, and want you to do the same. They may be subs, but they definitely want kids of their own, some day. These men will surprise you, though, because they will be great parents and, despite considering and realizing parenting to be a huge responsibility, they will go above and beyond to make sure they support you and your child. They will definitely want more kids after the first one arrives, too. With these men, you will have to start communication first, so if any obstacles arise, you’ll have to be the one having the initiative to bring the issues to the table. A relationship with these men is very complicated because they don’t openly communicate with you and that’s something that won’t change. It’s ingrained in their character. But if you enjoy making the first move and encourage them to speak their mind after said move is made, things will work a lot smoother. They do trust you, but their natural impulse is to not speak their mind, unless it is clearly requested. They are the type of men to be emotional but not show it, so sex is a way to connect with you, allowing emotions to overflow and transcend a realm beyond the physical one. Good aftercare. May not go above and beyond, like the soft doms, but will make sure to cuddle and have a bath with you after. - Kamo Noritoshi, Inumaki Toge, Kamo Choso

Switch

These men are mysterious and unpredictable. You never know how they truly feel or what they truly want, but if they feel like it, they will open up to you. Most of the times, they will either be controlling hard doms, or challenging bratty subs, however, on rare occasions, they will be soft doms, seeking a deeper emotional connection, wanting to make sure you know they love you, even though, they don't always say it or show it. When they feel like being hard doms, they will definitely assume the traits mentioned earlier in the "hard dom section", because, to them, seeing you all messed up boosts their ego and makes them go even more feral on you. When they are subs, they aren't romantic, but obnoxiously bratty, defying you by saying you can do better, refusing to do whatever you tell them to, laughing on your face saying things like "if you want it, do it yourself", "you want me to use this toy? Make me, I dare you!", while giving you the biggest, proudest and brattiest smirk ever. They are definitely the type to say "can't you do it any faster?", "is that all you've got?", "you're all bark and no bite. How disappointing". Sometimes, they start as subs, but, eventually, get bored and decide to take control and when they do, you already know his primal hard dom side will give you the hardest time of your life, on the mattress. Being a soft dom is a rare occurrence, but when it does happen, they prefer to show you they love you, rather than telling you. Their eyes, filled with desire and desperation, will be staring intensely into yours. They want your souls to be entangled in each other forever and will be extremely soft and romantic in every thrust, smiling affectionately at you, wanting to know if you're feeling good. It may not look like it, but they are the most emotional soft doms ever. Pregnancy and kids are a very uncomfortable topic for these men. If they could, they would teleport out of the discussion, instantly and the only reason they don’t do it, is because they know it will be an even bigger drag to listen to you starting a drama over it, later. They are a bit clumsy and forgetful in regards to protection, so it will be up to you to make sure they use it, otherwise, you will have to take the pill. They don’t imagine themselves being parents but, if that happens, they are definitely not having more kids. Sloppy aftercare. You're the one who's supposed to cuddle them afterwards. When they're hard doms, they usually don't pay any attention to aftercare. They will just have a bath and get ready for whatever is on their schedule next, while you will have to handle yourself. On rare occasions, they may recognize they might have been a (gigantic) bit too rough on you and may help you clean yourself and have a bath with you. They don't enjoy cuddling too much and think it's a drag, but will do it, nonetheless, just to make you happy. When they're subs, they will expect you to have a bath with them, you will have to be the one cuddling them and you will also have to be the one getting something for both of you to eat (in case you don’t, he will throw a tantrum). When they're soft doms, they will have a bath with you and definitely will need your cuddles after. During aftercare, they will be romantic for a very short period of time (confessing their feelings for you), while staring deeply into your eyes. However, almost as soon as the words escape their mouths, they start realizing they're actually opening up to you and being vulnerable. They know they messed up. They will instantly become stoic, concealing their true thoughts and feelings, seemingly apathetic towards everything, once again. You stop being able to see any sign of genuine emotion. You can’t help yourself but think it’s as if you were now standing beside a completely different man. It doesn't matter if you tell them they can open up to you, they still won't do it, even if you manage to somehow earn a tiny bit of their trust. - Gojo Satoru, Kinji Hakari, Hajime Kashimo

Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you enjoy this post! I know it's quite long, but I think I managed to highlight the most important topics, that people are, usually, the most curious about.

[jkasperj]

Are you jealous?

Note: this was requested by @cheeseballsaregood hope you like it!🫶

Pairing: Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x reader

Warnings⚠️: a lot of smut and bad language. I think that’s all:)

Summary: Maverick gets jealous and he reminds you that you are…his

As always, you woke up today at 5:00 AM and went for a run before joining everyone else on deck. Fortunately, you only had a few classes today and no practice. You really weren’t in the mood to stand Maverick’s annoying comments on your flying skills. It’s always been like that, since you got into top gun Maverick has had a weird name obsession with making fun of your age and everything that you do. Your brother Goose was 23 and Maverick was 22, so yeah, you were the youngest.

Dealing with Pete Mitchell was never easy, but you had gotten better.

When you made it to your seat, Goose and Maverick both took a seat by your side, placing you between them. “Hey, (y/c/s), we were planning on going to the bar tonight, you coming?” Goose asked you, but before you could answer, Maverick said “I don’t think kids are allowed at the bar”. You looked up to see him wearing that irritating shit-eating grin and you just left saying “I don’t think assholes are allowed either”.

Later that day, you found yourself on the beach with the boys for a volleyball game. Iceman and Slider had also joined and you could tell that Iceman was one good-looking man and you couldn’t help but look at him for a moment and Maverick noticed this. He didn’t like it one bit. You didn’t realize that you were staring at Iceman until a piece of clothing landed on your face hitting it softly. “Stop staring. It’s disgusting” you head Maverick say and you just laughed and said “you wish you looked like him” “I look better than him”.

During the whole game Iceman and Slider were checking you out, even flirting and Maverick didn’t like it at all, so he just threw the ball aggressively in the sand and stormed off. You noticed this and went behind him ignoring Goose’s calls to come back.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” You were trying to get to him, but he was walking too fast. “We were having a good time!” He suddenly turned around and said “a good time!? You were not even playing! You were just flirting!” You couldn’t believe that he was mad about that. “Don’t be ridiculous! Why would you even care!?” “They were undressing you with their eyes!” When he said that, you realized that might be jealous, but it was impossible. He never gave any sign of him liking you. “Are you jealous?” He completely ignored your question and told you “get in the bike”. You did what he told you and got into his motorbike and he did the same before starting it off.

You and Maverick made it to his apartment and as soon as you both got in, he pinned you on the wall kissing you hungrily while taking off every piece of clothing he could reach.

When you both made it to his room, he quickly threw you on the bed and took off his own clothes “Turn around.” he said, his eyes were burning with desire.

You obeyed and laid on your stomach, your ass in the air. He stepped towards you, his hand feeling the smooth of your ass, and his hand smacked against you - hard. You whimpered and clenched your thighs, already feeling that primal urge.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re not going to be able to look at Kazansky anymore. You are mine” he smacked you again. “And you’re going to show me that you are mine” you moaned, eager to feel him in you.

You heard as he spat in his hand and let out a sigh as he slipped a finger into you. The soft sigh quickly turned a gasp as he shoved two more fingers into you, not bothering to escalate slowly and directly jumping to three fingers. You closed your thighs and he smacked you again.

“Fuck!” you groaned.

His thumb went to your clit and he began to pleasure you there too. You spread your legs, eager to feel him everywhere, and grabbed the sheets. 

“I want to hear you moan my name.” he said as he planted kisses on your neck. “Now.” 

You obeyed and opened your mouth. Your moans poured out like water shooting out of a dam. You moaned his name when his fingers slipped out of you, but yelled again as he slammed into you without warning.

His thrusts and hard from the get go, giving you no time to adjust. He grabbed your hair and yanked it back, pulling you against him. He attacked your neck, biting and sucking, and grabbed your breasts, squeezing and pinching.

You turned your head to kiss him but he pushed you down. He slammed into you, making you yell out in a mix of pain and pleasure, and smacked your ass with his hand. He pressed your head further into the mattress as his cock reached deeper into you. Tears were beginning to roll down your cheeks. 

In one quick movement he slid out of you and spun you around. Your eyes fell on his face and you nearly came right there. His hair was messy and his were sharp. He tugged you down and slammed back into you. His hand slid up your stomach and chest and rested around your throat. 

Your legs were spread wide open and you had a direct view of his cock sliding in and out of you. You moaned and John tightened his grip around your throat. He was close, you could tell by his movements.

His fingers went between you legs and he began rapidly playing with your clit. You moaned his name making him cum. He pressed into you, as deep as he could go, and dragged you into an orgasm with him. He rode you out, pushing his cum further into you, before collapsing on top of you in a sweaty mess, his cock still deep inside you.

Your thighs ached but you ached for more of him.

This type of smut was actually new for me, so I really hope it was not that bad😅

[sanguine-inkwell]

I feel like I've neglected the blog again, so! Mod Smoke here again. Time for an update on the sanguinarian shenanigans.

I've added a few books to my reading list, and the one on my bedside table is Energy Magick of the Vampyre by Don Webb. I tend to keep my own council and use several grains of salt when it comes to witchcraft, especially when people start spelling magic with a k, but I can definitely see how this could scratch some of the itch. For better or for worse, there's something predatory and preening about the nature of the vampire, and the more educated you are about yourself and your options the easier it is to take your urges out for a little run in healthy ways.

I'm on the fence about auras, energy, and all of that, but I'm a theatre kid at heart. The power of presence and presentation, the intersection of stage magic and religious ritual, is absolutely a real tool. Mod Glass is more straightforward about it- she definitely believes, and to my eternal bafflement she manages to feed on trees and flowing water. I can definitely believe in that, and the way she's a little less primal after sitting in a park for an hour. Clearly something is being achieved there, so it's possible- I'm just tragically doomed to my own version of cynicism, and thus the awkward anxiety of trying to ask the butcher for blood.

(I still haven't.)

I've got my coconut water, my pomegranate juice, my aesthetic and my interests. It's enough for now. I don't know if I'm flourishing, but I'm nearer that than not, so I'll take what I've got.

I think in a lot of ways it's easier to separate what you "should" want from what you do want. Especially when you're a teenager, you want the validation of community- community for its own sake, to some extent, but also a mirror to tell you you're real.

I fell into that when I found the otherkin community, pagans, all of it- if I let myself keep on with that, I'd still be content with the idea that dragons are supposed to crave eating rocks or hoarding shiny things. That's not what I need, or even what I really want. I want community, and I'm not going to find it by conforming to any standards, or I quite simply wouldn't be me. I try to hold onto "build it and they will come", for better or for worse, but I do go looking in my own way.

You don't net as much weird, queer, and othered community in the Bible Belt as you might expect unfortunately. It's a work in progress.

Back on the more direct topic though, I'm having fun snatching the other mods for deep philosophical discussions over drinks. I think it named itself Mod Citrine...? It's not on here often, mostly because it's even less inclined to the kind of theatrics I get up to. No roses and candles and gothic spires for that one. We feed on different things, I think, when it comes to blood- and that's why I can't entirely write off the possibility of some strange unquantifiable energy being involved. It's incredibly, deeply intimate for me, and for a moment I could almost convince myself I do have powers beyond doing mostly even eyeliner wings. It's definitely not the same kind of power or even hedonistic high that comes from sex, but I can't define it to save my life except through poetry.

For Citrine... it prefers not to call itself a vampire except by the strictest definition. If pressed, it'll say alterhuman or otherkin, but mostly for someone else's benefit so they can slap a label on and move on. It's not a vampire with all the bells and whistles the way myself, Glass, and Key are, with the gothic yearning and nocturnal tendencies and the fifteen different types of black lipstick on top of the hunger for blood. It calls itself an object spirit, a thing that had enough sentiment attached to it to get reincarnated, with some urges left over. Objects aren't animals, aren't primal the way animals are- but the desires and dreams attached to them are human, in a way, as much as they're not, divorced from the breadth of human emotion and distilled into inhuman too-clean drives, the way a storm or a mountain has drives.

Even so, it has a relationship with blood, just like I have a relationship with blood, and that interests me. I come at it from the perspective of a vampire, the hunger of the human predator that seeks to thrive, and then beyond thriving seeks their own pleasure. Citrine comes at it from the perspective of a sword, skill and fulfilled purpose and occasionally even as an offering. Not a biological hunger, not in the same way, but a hunger of purpose. Maybe ideology or identity. It makes some sense. As a vampire, I have to feed. The community itself is proof enough that the definition of feeding is varied. A sword would want blood, and specifically blood, because that's what it's built for and meant to do.

Needless to say, next time I make my substitute I'm offering some and seeing what it thinks. Partially for science. Partially because I'm pretty sure it'll work and I want to see the look on Citrine's face. Join me in pretentious vampire hell, I drink pomegranate juice out of wine glasses and it's very very fun.

That said, dinner's almost done, so I'll leave off here. Have a good night!

[alluralater]

Hey Allura, primordial hunger anon here - just wanted to say that I briefly overcame my ravenous lust until I saw you’d answered my ask and now… I’m almost oppressively lascivious. To be honest, I’ve always had an above-average sex drive and it doesn’t help that I’m closeted with a religious background.

But the way you describe sex, desire, wanting has been kind of transformative for my self-perception. I usually see my urges as bestial and shameful but it feels natural when you talk about it. You make it sound magical or even sacrosanct even when it’s intemperate and dark and reprobate.

Idk. Maybe I’m just trying to justify this sort of febrile, manic state to myself but thank you and also, maybe, possibly, could I get a tag? I know you’ve been really inundated with anons but could I maybe be 21? I’m she/her and mostly bottom. If not, I completely understand. Again, thanks for helping me make a dent in my sexual shame ❤️

hi! sex to me is holy, but not pure in a religious way. it is not a covenant made between myself and any god to give myself to someone with a heart driven through white as snow. sex is messy and primal. it's fucking delicious. honestly one of the reasons i may be such a sex maniac could easily be the amount of exposure to different religions i had when i was young, could be all the rituals i was in as a kid, could be the fact that my mother called me a prostitute for showing an inch of skin, it could be all the pain i went through as a child and then more as a teenager. i've no idea. what i do know is that from the moment i discovered consensual sex, my first thought was that this should never be hidden. i am the most sexually open person that i know. one of my best friends definitely comes close but i've totally got her beat. i cannot go a full 60 seconds without thinking about sex. sex is the energy within nature. it is the oxygen wrapping itself into fire and adding to the blaze. it is the most incredible thing to me. with that comes care and education, but also.... liberation. it is fucking empowering like nothing i've ever known. it is to love yourself. and it is to feel the energy in the air, in every molecule of your form. fuck i wish i could explain all of this in a less feral way. basically- we are made of the universe. we are part of it. the same things in nebulas are in me. and when i have sex with someone, i can feel it. like stars swirling and exploding. i mean i also have synesthesia so it adds to it. but generally yes it is fucking beautiful. feel no shame for your liberation, only pride.

the tag is all yours <3

[kookiecrumb]

JHS || Rose

pairing: vampire!hoseok x reader

wc: 2.4K

summary: Your husband, Jung Hoseok, is hungry when he gets home from work. You feed him.

tags: established relationship au (husband and wife), supernatural au

warnings: smut (18+), vampirism (graphic description of feeding), explicit language, there's a sex dungeon, nicknames, reader is a good girl, praise (soft), BDSM, rope bondage, brief pussylicking, religious references, fingering, scratching, noisy reader

He comes home from work as usual. 

It's a beautiful day out and you're a suburban couple. The flowers you planted outside today are blooming nicely.

It is April, after all. Most of them are in season. 

The sun is out for once, and it is nice enough to keep the windows open during the afternoon. You've gone ahead and baked something for the evening, for when Hoseok comes home so that he isn't famished by the time you two begin your activities. 

Everything is ordinary, maybe even a little mundane.

He works a good job and it's interesting enough. You don't have kids yet but you're working on it. You're in your mid 20s, finally finished your degree and got the job you wanted working from home.

You have been saving for years, alongside him. A little here and a little there went into the savings account. It went unmentioned between the both of you.

Finally, you had a room constructed alongside the basement.

It wasn't part of the house initially and it was a long process to make. The costs were heavy and the labor was heavier, but by the end of it all? You had an elaborate, grey smooth concrete sex dungeon for Hoseok to torture you senselessly in.

You don't talk about it.

You talked about it once, a deep and revealing, vulnerable conversation with him at the beginning of your engagement.

You spoke out about your need to be manipulated and he reciprocated with his desire to hurt you. To violate you. To ruin you. 

"What does that mean, Hoseok...?" you asked, kneeled on the bed, hands shaking from either excitement or fear. "Why do you want to hurt me?" 

"It's because I love you." 

Your eyes shot up at him. "How could you ever hurt something you love?"

He stayed silent for a moment then drew his hand up to your jaw.

There, you understood. 

It was primal. That was the moment you knew his love wasn't human. 

Meeting him wasn't anything out of the norm, either. You simply met each other during college and exchanged numbers for a study date. 

Hoseok was a catch in a small town like yours. You were almost suspicious of his availability. 

"I've rejected plenty of the girls on campus…" he'd mention to you on your third date. "They just never caught my eye like you did. You're pretty." 

He emphasized the word 'pretty.' 

At the time, you might have thought his behavior was a little off but you shrugged it off because of his looks and otherwise sweet personality. 

As you two began to grow closer and closer, the kind of attraction you had to one another only grew. It grew into an infatuation resembling an insatiable flame of desire spanning across your respective emotional and physical feelings. 

Only he could touch your body in the way that made you feel gorgeous. He empowered you. He was the source of your most personal and deep impulses. You could not peel yourself away from his touch, his love, his eyes, his hands, his words, they tainted your heart like a holy promise of sexual salvation. It came with the cost of your sweet lifeblood. 

Hoseok regularly buys you flowers– pink roses that are so pale that they appear white in the light of the moon. They bloom on your kitchen table for a week and when they begin to wilt, he goes out and buys another dozen. "The difference is, my love, that your beauty will never wilt or fade." 

It is Monday, which means he has them in-hand when he walks through the front door in his business suit. He pecks your lips hello and sets the dozen down on the counter before squeezing you tight. 

"My rose, I am famished!" He announces. 

"Great, because I made your favorite…" you place your hand on his chest, meeting his lust-ridden eyes. 

Hidden in them is tonight's intentions. For now, they're concealed under the guise of a husband arriving from work in need of a simple meal…but there is so much more to be read from the way his body seems to intimidate yours. He is hungry. You will feed him. 

"...it's kimchi fried rice. Homestyle," you smile. 

"Oh, my rose…" he purrs, pressing your back against his chest, embracing you. "You've outdone yourself." 

He holds, his lips sheathing his deadly fangs from piercing your skin. "You know how much I appreciate you, flower," he says it like an oath. Nothing this sinful could ever sound that good. 

"It's all for you, Hoseok. All of it is yours. You can sink your teeth into it, now. All of it," you plead, trembling under his supernatural touch. 

"I think I will," he speaks into your skin. His hands ride up your sides, feeling the fear that you exude from his provoking touch. 

You rise to his hands, sensuality consuming your mind until you find yourself indulging in his touch. 

"Mm…don't be greedy," Hoseok rasps. 

Your eyes flutter at his words. It takes you a moment to stabilize and compose yourself after that. It is he who moves first. 

Hoseok makes your plate, portioning out the food. He concentrates on preserving the presentation of what you've prepared. "This looks delicious," he hums, passing the finished plate over to you. 

You sit down across from him, patiently watching him finish composing his own plate. "Thank you. I made it with love." 

He stares, a smirk pulling at his lips. "I can tell." 

Oh, God. 

With every spoonful of food and every sip of wine, it seems as if his hunger doesn't once deter. Only one thing will sedate him, and the thought of his feeding growing closer makes you squirm in your seat. 

He takes notice, his eyes flaring at your prematurely desperate state. 

"You need to control yourself before I control it for you," he says, setting down his fork. "Are you going to behave yourself or am I going to have to make you?" 

With a deep inhale, you continue to imbibe the very last of the red wine. "No. I will behave for you, Hoseok."

He cradles the glass in his hand and swivels the liquid around thrice more before downing the last bit of his drink. "You're so well behaved for me, flower." 

"Thank you," you hastily reply. 

He sets his glass down, finally. He stands up from his chair and prompts you to carry the dishes out of his way. 

You do so with promptitude, but you are careful so as to not appear over-excited. 

The thrill of it can barely be contained. You must appear as indifferent about his feeding as possible. 

He is your loving husband, but you cannot help but feel overwhelmingly aroused by the thought of his perverse fantasies realizing themselves through your body. 

He awaits you now, in the bedroom. 

Once you arrive, you kneel on a pad he has laid out for you and keep your hands on your thighs. He's to come to you. Your eyes are lowered, so as to not initiate. 

"Do you want me to drink from you?" He asks. He always asks. Shamelessly. 

"Yes, Hoseok," you affirm. "Please, I'm yours." 

"Compliance will get you far. You're smart by now, aren't you, my lifeblood?" He thrums, his legs spread on the side of the bed. 

"Thank you," you say.  

"Fuck, you're so pretty, too…aren't you, my rose?" 

"Yes, Hoseok." 

"No…say it," he slurs, lifting your chin up to meet his eyes. "Let me hear your angelic voice tell me that you're my pretty little blood slut." 

Your heart is pounding against your chest, but you manage the words in a barely stable tone. "I'm your pretty…little blood slut." 

You can feel his taunting grin now, pleased with your obedience. He will use you now. 

It's a luxury to be the source of his ungodly nourishment. It's a christening of sorts. 

He kneels with you, and asks that you undress to the extent that his fingers can stroke your core. The purpose of this isn't inherently sexual. Rather, it helps the blood start pumping through your body. 

With your body open to him, his slender fingers pull you apart and stroke you with familiarity. It's second nature to him. 

He drapes your thighs over his own as he hovers his lips over your collar. Then, in one unbreaking stroke, he penetrates the skin. 

At once, you feel a pinch. The feeling is uncomfortable and alien and your immediate reaction is to draw away from him, but his firm and demanding grasp of your body warns you to remain in place. 

"H-hoseok," you plead. The sensation transforms. 

"I know, baby…just a little more for me, I'm not satisfied yet," he rasps. 

"Ohh," you moan. It's now a dull and floaty pain that spreads from your neck to your shoulder, walking the perfect silver lining between pain and numbing pleasure. 

His plump lips cushion the incision, causing you to melt at his warmth and gush over his fingers. You writhe and exhale softly, your hands fixated on his inner thighs while he drinks.  

You know to keep breathing deeply, allowing him to make this as easy as possible. He doesn't hurt you while doing this. It's never his intention. He laps the wound to seal it once he is full. 

"You're throbbing already…" he groans, thumbing over your clit as he draws his face from your neck. "That's beautiful…" 

His opposite hand reaches for a bottle of red liquid. You smile weakly, knowing that it's Gatorade. It's surprisingly good at helping people recover from losing blood, so you don't mind drinking it. 

You're so happy your husband has used you like this. The knowledge that you're the only one he feeds from is a potent source of personal pleasure.

His hands ride up your sides in adoration as his fang teases your ear. "Mmm, flower you taste heavenly, I can't wait to unravel you completely," he hums. 

"I can't wait for you either, Hoseok…you know how much I love being yours," you gasp quietly as you feel him tug your dress up to your hips. 

"I want to be good for you today," you mewl. 

"That's what I like to hear, flower." 

He rises after kissing your cheek briefly. Offering you his hand, he lifts you from the mat and carries you in his arms, smiling the whole way downstairs. 

The coolness of the concrete floor causes your body to shiver. You're bare and nothing separates your body from the smooth surface below you. You're heaving in anticipation as your eyes focus on Hoseok's sturdy hands preparing your restraints. 

They're ropes, dozens of feet of vibrant, secure, and safe ropes wrapped around his palm. Nothing obstructs his view of your live body, a desperation akin to that of cornered prey. 

You're naked. 

And every reaction your body has to him is observed by him and his senses. He is in tune to you completely. He's ready to take what is his. 

With authority, Hoseok pulls your body on to him and begins strategically wrapping you. You're over his lap, above his prominent erection. It renders you pliant as your arms wrap tightly around his shoulders, your face buried in his fragrant neck. 

His delicate fingers brush over your pussy as they create an elaborate pleasure knot. "Oh, Hoseok~" you sob in gratitude. 

"You deserve it," he thrums against your lips. He kisses you long and slow, hissing quietly. "Be good." 

With one final tug, his body sinks to your thighs. He begins marking you immediately, his arms grabbing your thighs with vigor. "I might poke you a little, but I'll try not to do that," he comments before he spreads his tongue flat on your cunt. 

"Mmf!" you whine, instinctively closing your thighs around his head. Knowing Jung Hoseok, he takes it as a compliment. 

He closes his eyes and takes your bud between his lips, sucking and licking at it lewdly, pressing your body to the floor. 

He rolls his eyes open and smirks as he pushes his tongue into your needy hole. You gasp sharply. "Fuck! Fuck," you cry. "Ohh fuck,," 

Beneath you, he is releasing himself from his confinement. There is only one thing on your mind after this. 

You're unconcerned with any other thing. You need his cock.

Lucky for you, his patience is stunted. Watching you behave so nicely has made him generous, which is great news for a desperate thing like you. 

In one fluid motion, he pulls your body towards him and sheaths his cock in your pulsating cunt. Your eyes flare in surprise. 

He grins, cradling your face in his hand before kissing you sweetly. "I never get tired of that." 

You feel your legs shake, crossed above Hoseok's lower back as he pounds into you. He buries his face between your tits, his mouth finding solace in your unmarked skin. 

Of course he loves every stretch mark, every mole, and every imperfection. He claims it as his own, and with your bodies connected this way, it becomes him.

Your nails leave long red streaks on his back as his thrusts accelerate, rendering you helpless to them. The glowing warmth of his body with yours relaxes you to the extent of ecstacy. 

You smile, dazed as he continues to plant beautiful little kisses under your ear while languidly rushing his dick into your cervix. You bite your lip, furrowing your eyebrows. "Hh–ah!" 

Hoseok lifts his face from your jaw and observes you, alarmed, initially, but now calm. "Oh, rose," he thrums, pecking your lips.  

You hold on tight around his shoulders as he quickens his pace, the sound of your bodies reflecting off the walls. Your hand reaches for his face, keeping his eyes focused on you. 

He reciprocates, fluently pushing himself into you, a familiar rush building between the both of you. You're enraptured in the feeling of him. 

The dizzying feeling of an impending orgasm floods your senses. He observes the transformation of your expression, delighted. 

Shivers of ecstacy ripple through you as you cum on his throbbing cock. You lift your body towards his touch. Hoseok stills, his body stuttering forward before squirting you with his cum. 

His kind eyes settle on your glowing face a few moments later as he's carefully tracing your features with his hands. "Stil…so, so pretty."

o//////o

a/n: shameless.

[just-here-for-the-moment]

CONGRATULATIONS ON 300 LOVE💚💚💚 You deserve it and more because you are TALENTED and SO SWEET and everything you do is just 👨‍🍳🤌

I took the chance to spin your wheel… and first spin I got was Mando with a lactation kink… I KNOW this man loves kids and wants a big family so I can’t wait to see what you come up with!!!! All the love!

Woooo!!! This broke me. I was really going for XTRA FILTHY SMUT but that did not happen. This one surprised me when I wrote it by sneaking up all soft and sweet, and then ending that way too. That's okay, though, I like a good soft smut.

Hope you enjoy!!! :D

Word Count: 2030+

Rating: Explicit/mature, 18+ only

Outline: Din Djarin x “You”/Din’s wife (cis/het female reader; “blank canvas”/no physical description/no name/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: starts soft, ends soft; Din has a filthy mouth; praise kink (use of “good girl”); lactation kink; unprotected P/V sex in the context of marriage; sprinkling of breeding kink

Evenings and nights were always your favorite with your husband. It was the best time of the day, everyone settled down and quiet, the ship docked for the night wherever you were visiting or set to autopilot to the next destination. You knew your husband’s moods, the slight slump of his shoulders telling you that he was getting drowsy, ready to head below decks and rest, curled up in your arms.

You nursed your son, putting him down before heading up to the cockpit to knit for a bit and watch the stars race by. After an hour of that, you saw the telltale signs and knew that Din was done for the day, even if he didn’t know it himself. He pushed himself too hard, always believing that there was more of him to go around than there was.

Now that the baby was here, growing healthy and strong, Din had resumed his habit of staying up too late, tweaking just one more thing in the cockpit or looking over the available jobs just one more time. He had spent too many nights slumped sleeping in that pilot’s chair, and you had finally started being gently pushy, in the hopes of getting the man to just stop and rest.

You waited until you saw the helmet keel an inch too far to the right, knowing how heavy it felt on his head, his old habit of wearing full armor at all times in the cockpit in case things went sideways and he had to spring into action. You didn’t push him to relax or remove it, you knew how much he needed that feeling of being in control. But you could be sweet and soft, remind him how much you needed him at the end of the day, how good it would feel to finally remove the Beskar and curl up against you, skin to skin for the night.

“Din,” you made your voice soft. “It’s bedtime.”

His helmet tilted back to center and you heard him clear his throat. “Just one more thing, mesh’la.”

You smiled to yourself and finished off your row of stitches, giving him a few more minutes, tweaking knobs and fiddling with buttons. You got up and stretched, then came around to his side, placing one hand on the back of his neck with a gentle squeeze.

“Let’s go. You need your rest, or you’ll be no good to anyone tomorrow.”

Din lifted one hand to grip your waist affectionately. You could visualize the fight happening on his face, the urge to take care of just one more item battling against the pull of your soft curves in the dark. You leaned in, letting his helmet come to rest against your side.

“Let me take you to bed, you big, strong man.” Your voice was soft, your nails softer as you slipped them just under the cowl and dragged them across the back of his neck.

Din sighed and then set the ship to autopilot before he removed his helmet. His eyes were rimmed with hints of red, the circles underneath deeper than they had been yesterday. Your heart squeezed, and you immediately took the helmet to set it gently on the floor. You kneeled in front of his chair and didn’t say a word as you started to help him remove his gloves, then all of the parts of his armor that you could reach. For his part, Din let you worry your fingers over him. Then he stood up and took off his back plates and cape, piling everything neatly on the ground.

“Sit.” You left no room for argument, and Din complied. You muttered gently to yourself as you reached down to help him remove his boots, “Kriffing crazy man, pushing yourself so hard…”

Din let you undress him, let you massage your fingers up his calves and across his quads, and that told you more than anything how tired he really was. Normally he would at least protest, say that he didn’t need the help, but this quiet acquiescence was worrisome. Still, though, you knew how to relax him, get him to stop. You weren’t above using your feminine wiles to bend him to your will, all in the service of getting him to rest.

When he was finally down to his flight suit, you opened the front of it and peeled it down and off his shoulders, and then straddled his lap in the pilot’s chair. You started by skating your nails over his shoulders. Din closed his eyes as a shiver ran through his body. He nearly moaned, a soft “Ohhh…” floating out into the quiet of the cockpit.

You gently pushed his forehead so that he could lean his head back on the headrest, and increased the pressure of your fingers as you rubbed circles into the knots of his biceps and trapezius muscles. Din let his hands rest on your thighs as you worked him over, and by the end of it, he was putty in your hands. You finished by laying a soft kiss to his velvet lips, and you were surprised when he kissed back and wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you tight.

“Sweet man, I thought you were tired?” You smiled as he brought his eyes to rest on your face.

“No, mesh’la. I think I just got a second wind.” Din raised an eyebrow at you, and you giggled as you felt him twitch hard underneath your crotch.

“No, you need to rest, my husband. You’re awfully tired.”

Din groaned as he buried his face against your sternum, grinding up against your through your clothing. You threaded your fingers through his curls and scraped your nails from his ears down to his neck, pulling a moan from deep in his throat.

“But I need to have you, just like this.” Din brought his hands up to untie the laces of your wrap dress, sliding his thick fingers under the fabric as it fell open. “Please? Can I taste your milk? You know I love to taste you, mesh’la.” He placed hot, open-mouthed kisses to the swell of your breasts. You felt a thrill run through your body, finding it harder and harder to be stern with him.

“No, Din, you really need-” You gasped as he cupped your breast with one big hand and brought his mouth to the nipple. “You need…” But for the life of you, you couldn’t remember the next part of your orders. You let your dress slide down your arms and off your shoulders, pooling on the floor of the cockpit. Your panties were damp, and Din’s strong arm wrapped around you, holding you firmly in place.

“I know what I need, my sweet wife. I need you.” Din dove back to your breast with his hungry mouth, swirling the nipple with his tongue as his erection grew and pressed harder against your clothed cunt. You felt your milk prickling behind your areolas, knowing that if Din applied any suction, you would start leaking from both breasts, and then you would entirely lose control of this mission to get him to bed.

“No, Din, bed-” but he cut you off with a growl, something primal and low that rumbled from deep in his chest and took your breath away as he gripped you closer, teeth scraping against your budded nipple.

Din began to suckle, and you threw your head back with a gasp, clinging tightly to his shoulders as the muscles flexed under your touch. He was quiet but greedy, sucking at one side before moving to the other. The feel of your milk letting down made you moan, and giving in was just too easy, too sweet to resist. You let your husband take what he wanted, what he needed from you. There would be plenty for the baby still.

“You taste like the stars, sweet girl.” Din’s voice was a hoarse whisper in between his lapping, and his praises made you wetter. “You taste like honey and sunshine like this.”

“Diiinn…” Your head was fuzzy, wiped clean of everything except desire. “Din, please…”

You weren’t even sure what you were asking for, but Din took charge, lifting you half out of his lap so that he could free his cock, before hooking one thick finger and pulling your panties to the side. He swept the head of his penis back and forth against your slick folds and then thrust up inside, settling you back on his lap with his arm wrapped tight around your lower back.

“My wife, my girl,” he growled into your mouth as he worked you against him. You braced your feet as best you could, but Din was determined to do things his way. You let him pull and release you with that iron grip, canting your hips back and forth as he rocked you on his length. He ducked his head back down and lapped at you again and again.

All you could manage was a breathy, “Ohhh,” as he kept thrusting up into you at a steady pace. You grasped at his shoulders, his hair, anywhere you could find a purchase to steady yourself.

“My wife has the sweetest tits in the whole galaxy. Such a good girl, letting me fuck her like this.” Din’s eyes sparkled as he looked up at you. “Want me to fuck another warrior into you, mesh’la? Another baby?”

“Yes, oh!” You felt your climax start to unfurl, every nerve tingling as his cock rubbed against your clit from this angle.

Din suckled you again and again, pausing only to growl praises and promises up into your mouth.

“You’d like that? You want me to fill you up again? I’ll keep you pregnant all the time, full of milk for me and our babies.” His arm wrapped tighter around your waist as he fucked up inside of you harder. “Keep your tits full? Keep you dripping sweet milk, all for me?”

You nodded and kissed him. “Yes, please- yes, yes. Fill me up, Din. I want you to.”

“Come for me first, sweet girl.” Din cupped his free hand under your knee and lifted your leg high and open. “Touch yourself. I want my wife to come around my cock.”

Your hand flew down inside your panties to touch your clit, rubbing and pressing it in circles, trying desperately to follow his wishes. Finally you felt the finish coming. You gasped out to him as you came and Din kept his eyes pinned on your face as you cried out. Your cunt squeezed and milked his cock as he began to spurt his own release deep inside. Din let go of your leg, and both arms wrapped your waist in a vise grip as he ground himself into you and climaxed.

When you were both spent, Din brought both hands to cup your breasts, licking the last of your milk from the swollen nipples.

Din’s “Hmmmm…” reverberated through his lips, the deepest and most satisfied sound you could imagine. You felt him hot inside of you, and you were reluctant to lift yourself off his lap. He softened inside of you bit by bit as he licked your nipples, squeezing both breasts until he was satisfied that he had gotten every last drop.

You draped your arms around the back of Din’s neck and let his cheek rest against your breast, curling your fingers gently in the back of his hair and feeling him finally soften fully.

“Will you sleep well, my husband?” You gently teased him, a soft smile on your lips as you looked down at him and stroked his face.

Din looked up at you from under his lashes, and your heart ached at how peaceful his big brown eyes were, how comforted he looked there in your arms. You wanted him to look like that forever. You wished you could somehow wipe all worry and strain from his life. But maybe this was the best you could do for your husband, just comfort him and give him solace when he needed it most.

Din closed his eyes and breathed deeply, and you let him rest there a while longer.

---

Din Djarin/Mando character masterlist

Main masterlist

“Everything bagel” tag list: @quica-quica-quica @anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @kesskirata @honeymandos @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @anxiousandboujee @cevvie @sherala007 @writeforfandoms @libellule2001 @deadhumourist @mandoalorian @javierpinme @eri16 @mandocrasis @pilothusband @bastillealmighty @eri16 @jitterbugs927 @babiiface95 @toomanystoriessolittletime @yespolkadotkitty @fisforfulcrum @prettylilhalforc @mswarriorbabe80 @littlemisspascal @wildemaven @coreychick @castleamc @coreychick @astoryisaloveaffair

[prolix-yuy]

Chapter 4: And Perhaps Be Welcomed Back Again

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: A catch up. A hope. An admission. An understanding.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: T, drinking, mentions of food and eating, brief allusions to sexual acts. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Cross-Posted on AO3

Good Company Masterlist || I Think of You Series Masterlist

You steel yourself as you step back into the noise of the cantina. The mood has mellowed as the hours deepen more and more into night. The fly-boys are still huddled together around a table but some of the younger ones have departed. The ones that remain are the oldest, the years hard on their faces. Grego is still with them but he’s taken the hallikset into his hands and is plucking it now. Another man begins a song, a haunting melody that twines its way through the cantina rather than booms.

You weave between the tables and take some drink orders, working your way back to the dark corner where you left Mando. The droid bartender inputs the drinks and begins zipping on his track, gathering ingredients. You pause to listen to the old pilot’s song, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as other voices join in. The young ones sing of the end as if there is glory to be had. The old ones’ songs are mindful of the loss they all suffer.

Turning to look up at the booth, Mando’s helmet gleams in the shadow. The T visor is trained on you.

(he’s still so much the man you remember)

You mount the steps and come back to stand at his table. The green youngling is settled into his silver pod, his eyes large as plums and ears like tiny sails on either side of his head. You start to reach to touch him but stop, looking over at Mando. He’s watching you, all attention focused on your movements.

“Is he yours?” you ask, and wince. (Not how I wanted to start this)

“A foundling.” Mando says, and the word makes some of your tension ease. So not born of him, but the way Mando looks at him, protects and cares for him, the little guy might as well be. He nods at the pod and you look down to see a small clawed hand reaching up to your outstretched one. You lower your fingers close enough that the child can wrap his smaller ones around your pointer, his eyes fixated on your face.

(to be a child lost, then found by a Mandalorian…)

You weren’t an expert on kids. None of your own, and the rare one of your friends who didn’t desire them. You liked children enough, but becoming a mother meant you had to find that other half, and that hadn’t been panning out. And it meant actually desiring to be a mother, which was…sometimes uncomfortably absent in you. You didn’t understand why you didn’t feel the warmth and primal desire to bring life from your body, it just never manifested.

You did feel the warmth of care watching the child turn his head at you. He had looked up at you asking to be cared for and you provided, even if it had only been soup. You could see how someone could be fiercely protective of this child.

Mando scoots over in the booth so that there’s space to sit beside him. His head slowly rotates from you to the seat (an invitation). You sit down beside him, the warmth of his body lingering on the leather. You’re not quite side by side, his body half turned but his visor still trained on you. Smoothing your clothing you smile at him, the child looking between the two of you with curious eyes. The small yawn that overtakes him indicates he’s well on his way to a food-induced nap.

“Must be a handful,” you say, smiling at the kid as he blinks slowly. Mando chuckles and the familiar sound makes your heart jump (still proud when you make him laugh).

“Can’t keep his hands off anything in the Crest.” The image of the baby trying to pilot a ship makes you snort out a laugh as he settles into a doze.

“What’s his name?” you ask. Mando shrugs.

“Don’t know. He doesn’t talk, and when I found him…” Mando pauses, one hand clenching briefly before relaxing. “...there wasn’t anyone around to tell me who or what he is.”

You hum and nod in a way that tries to convey understanding even when you don’t have it. The music continues below, a few more voices joining in, a deep one rumbling in your chest.

You try to start speaking again and find the words sticking in your throat. This wasn’t the same as catching up with an old school friend. Looking at the green baby falling asleep across from you is an ever-present reminder that Mando is as much of a mystery now as he was then.

“Are you here long?” you settle on saying.

“Just the day.”

“For a job?” (was he even still bounty hunting with a child?)

“A mission.”

You pause, waiting for him to elaborate. He doesn’t.

(more mysteries)

“Has it been…successful?” Your heart is sinking faster and faster as you feel the conversation (or lack thereof) waning. Maybe you need a drink; it didn’t feel this hard to talk to Mando the first time. But time and unspoken words often hang heavy between people. This was not the reunion you imagined.

(swishing cape in the doorway, a hand on your lower back, whispering that foreign word he called you that you couldn’t bring yourself to translate)

“Not this time.” Mando says, shifting forward to press a button on the silver pod. It closes over the sleeping child, encasing him in a shiny orb.

“Sorry,” you say, your fingers worrying at the edge of your apron.

Maybe it was better for Mando to remain a dream, a racy story you get to tell when you’re a little tipsy. You squashed the hope away when he didn’t return several months after your initial meeting, and forced yourself to call it stupid over a year later. You’d even forgotten the playful “maybe” with all that your life became until he walked in the door.

(Dank farrik, he shouldn’t have come back)

You feel tears start to prickle at the corners of your eyes when Mando speaks.

“This is strange, right?” Your mouth drops open and you turn to him. He’s looking at you with his helmet tilted to one side, elbow perched on the edge of the table. It’s innocuous, a way to ease the tension, but in that moment it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. You think it’s just a giggle coming up but all of your nervous laughter follows until you are stifling hiccupy laughs behind your hands as a few tears drag down your face. Mando straightens up initially, his posture tense at a possible misstep, but you wave him off as you try to fight the feverish laughter. You take a couple deep breaths punctuated by a few more giggles before your composure finally comes back.

“Phew! Okay, yeah, wow, yeah, this is strange. You really…hit the mark there. Perfect marksman you are.” You’re rambling now but so much weight has lifted off your chest that you feel like you’re floating. You wipe your hands over your face and shake your head, then turn and look at Mando again.

Your breath catches. In the time you took to compose yourself, Mando has moved closer to you (kriffing silent bounty hunter), hand splayed wide on the table and framing your body with his own. The helmet is close enough that you need to turn your head to view all of it, and the heat radiating off his body kisses against your shoulder.

(some things never change, he’s still hot as a furnace)

(I’ve never kissed him)

“I thought of you,” you offer, and the helmet dips. “Sometimes.” A pause. “Fondly.”

(the girl has found her voice)

Mando doesn’t answer right away, instead leaning out of your space. He turns his head to look at his hand, fingers pressing hard against the table as if rubbing something out.

“It was a good night,” he finally adds. The answer is stiff, uncomfortable in its delivery but attempting to be kind. Your freeze, your tongue heavy in your mouth.

“So this…” you start, but you’re lost as to where to go from here. Mando continues watching his fingers press roughly against the wooden surface.

“Coincidence,” he offers, and you can feel the hesitancy and regret in his voice, see it in the way he’s punishing the wood grain. “I didn’t…”

You interrupt. “No, you wouldn’t know…of course not. Different place, different…time.” You want to dissolve into the floor and become part of the sand. He wasn’t here for you. The heat creeping up your neck burns with embarrassment and you try to hide it with a cough. You both are silent for what feels like an age.

(not you not you fool fool fool)

“I’m sorry I didn’t come back,” he says, turning his view to the cantina. The fly-boys are beginning to simmer down, their cups running empty, and the night progressing into silence. “I…” he pauses, then turns his head back to you. “I couldn’t.”

The admission cools your skin, and clears your head. Ten years had changed you, and you weren’t a bounty hunter with a green baby. The Mando you knew then - cocky, strutting, and wild - is not the Mandalorian in front of you. The years must have made him hard, made him give up things that brought him comfort and pleasure (like you?). The distance is purposeful and safe. A Mandalorian must move forward. A Mandalorian must serve his people, his Creed.

He didn’t seek you out, and you understand. Tonight was an accident, but one you would make the most of considering the circumstances. He wasn’t here to sweep you off to an adventure, but you could offer him kindness. Repayment for what he’d given you that night, and as thanks for the closure you need.

“It’s okay,” you say, Mando’s visor trained on you in your peripheral, “I’m not…I had no expectations Mando. You gave me an adventure, even if it was just a small one, and it’s been a nice memory for a long time. I’ve always wanted to thank you for it.” Your eyes meet the visor and Mando is still as a statue looking at you. “So thank you, for all of it.”

You’re afraid you might have broken Mando with how silent he is. The nervousness takes over again and you blurt out, “You’re still the best I’ve ever had though, so no thanks for ruining me for other men.”

(oh shit that was supposed to stay inside)

Now you’re the frozen one looking into Mando’s helmet. Time feels like a ribbon pulling through your fingers, slippery and quick, no idea how much has passed. Then Mando does something incredible.

He laughs.

He starts off quiet then the noise grows, the modulator echoing the guttural sounds as his shoulders shake and his head drops forward. You can’t help but laugh too, the tension shattering between the two of you as you finally let the expectations of this moment fall.

(this doesn’t have to be earth-shattering)

Davrah’s words come back to you as Mando leans back in his seat and you let out a little “whoooo” and fan your face. (This is good. This feels good now.)

“This is…not what I expected.” Mando says once you both have caught your breath. You hum and smile.

“Better?” you ask.

“Yeah, better.”

PREVIOUS || NEXT

While not mentioned by name or lyrics, this is the song the fly-boys are singing as the bar closes down (another shout-out to the talented Colm R. McGuinness, who apparently is the soundtrack of The Lively Bantha)

[wallflowerimagines]

Could you do what Lady Dimitrescu likes to do to you during sex? And if possible could you do some more about her kinks like the last ask? I really enjoyed that one, 🥰💕 thank you! :)

NSFW please and if that makes sense haha

I mean, hell yeah 💕

Warnings: N*SFW below, gender neutral as possible, but 18+ crowd go wild!

Alcina Dimitrescu NSFW Headcannons

Alcina's primary goal is to have you beg during sex.

A big believer in the Dom/Sub dynamic, nothing is as entertaining for her as watching you get desperate for her. She's a firm believer in the punishment/praise aspects, so when you two have sex it's often something that lasts for a loooong time.

Seriously, I'm not kidding. Sex with Alcina lasts for hours, not even including foreplay. Her stamina is through the roof due to the mutation, and combined with her desire to see you babbling and desperate to come, she is more than willing to draw it out for as long as possible.

To that end, she is happy to tie you up and keep you still. You don't get the option to chase your own pleasure, that's for Alcina to decide.

She will edge you until you're seeing double, that is a promise.

Your hands are often tied to a bedpost or a counter or pinned to a wall, BUT! She gives you just enough slack so she can watch you struggle a little 💕

She looooooves having control over you. You're face is so sweet and pathetic and vulnerable, it's so special to your intimacy that she values it more than any other expression you make.

She will also make you eat her out at least once before you're allowed to come. She gets off on the power dynamic and always comes first. No exceptions.

Uses dirty talk at just the right moments when you least expect it. You can be her little slut if you want to, or her pet, or her bitch, just as long as you know who you belong to.

She'll probably make you bleed at least once, either with her nails or her teeth, but she drinks up every drop of blood that might spill. She drinks everything, licks along your skin with hot, slick pressure and a smirk that makes your legs shake. You're delicious.

You're doing so, so well, and she reminds you of that constantly...but sometimes you might come before she lets you. Which means Alcina now has the opportunity to push you past that point into overstimulation.

Overstimulation is her punishment of choice, and it will escalate to the point where you're sobbing and desperate for a break. Depending on how disobedient you are, you'll probably pass out before she's satisfied.

(At which point it might *technically* escalate into somnophilia, but that's a story for another time)

It's fun for her to watch you cry when you come-- that means she did a good job! Plus you're so cute with your damp eyelashes and quivering lips. You sob, drool, hiccup and beg, beg, beg, and all Alcina can think is how precious you are. You're so unique and special and sweet, and even with tears running down your cheeks she can't help but try and get you to a point where you ask her for help.

Alcina wants you to want her to tell you what to do. She wants you to be so focused on obedience that your pleasure is hers. When you finally get to that point, when you finally give her every last piece of yourself, she gives you what you want.

She's also extremely possessive throughout it all. Nothing gets her going more than having you babbling her name and begging for release.

Honestly, you're such a sweet little pet. Why wouldn't she enjoy reminding you who you belong to? 💗

Alcina hovered above you, taking in the lovely scene before her with deep, primal satisfaction.

It had barely been over two hours, and you were already falling apart at the seams. But you were resplendent, lying back in the black silk sheets of her bed, undone by her touch, and so adorably desperate it ignited her own desire.

God, she loved you. Nobody had ever made her feel like this before, nobody else had been so perfect. There was something so lovely about watching you whine and hiccup with pleasure, begging with teary eyes for her to let you come, please, please, please---

But you were still coherent enough to beg, and that just wouldn't do at all.

Reaching out, she slid her thumb between your lips, and you obediently wrapped your tongue around her digit, eager to please as always. She forced it back deeper into your throat, and you moaned at the minimal amount of stimulation-- you two had been at it so long that you were desperate enough to show how slutty you were at just the touch of her fingers.

Her free hand clenched down hard around your hip, her sharp nails drawing blood, and the smell and sight of it had her mouth watering. She needed to taste you. Alcina leaned closer, making sure to keep eye contact with you, watching your expression as she put her mouth to your skin.

You shuddered in anticipation, and when she dragged her tongue across the cut, you sobbed.

Alcina pulled away, assessing your current state with a clinical eye and mischievous smirk. You were close, clearly, but you hadn't earned your prize just yet.

She pressed her bloody lips to yours, loving the way you shivered beneath her. Your eyes glazed over when she pulled away, and as she slowly dragged her hand back towards your sex, your breath hitched and you squirmed in place.

She smirked. You were such a good pet.

She was sure you could last another hour.

[mandos-sluts]

The Visit

This is Part One of a three-part series

The Visit Part Two

The Visit Part Three

The Mandolorian x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: Smut, dubious consent, fingering, dirty talk, mentions of sex work

Summary: You are Luke Skywalker’s Padawan, training directly under him at his Jedi Academy. Din Djarin is staying at the compound for a few days to visit Grogu.

A/N: Please message us or comment if you want to be on our tag list!! Also we love feedback <3

“What does he look like?”

“He’s a Mandalorian. Big silver shiny armor. Can’t miss him.”

*************************************

Boy was he right. You spot Din as soon as you step into the cantina. He’s standing at the bar, leaning over it slightly. His visor catches your eye from across the room, and he stares at you for a while, looking you up and down, before turning his head back to the bar. He’s never seen someone so beautiful in this parsec before.

Your Master, Luke Skywalker, told you to meet Din at the cantina and escort him to the Jedi Academy. Luke had similarly informed Din that he was sending his Padawan to rendezvous.

You know all about Din Djarin. You know his whole deal with Grogu and the Darksaber, and his run-ins with the Empire and the Guild. The story of his miraculous rescue of Grogu made its way around the school after Luke brought the child back to the Academy.

The cantina that you’re at is located in the town that lies right outside the Jedi Academy compound. It’s a place that many students go to blow off steam and hang out.

You find yourself surprisingly nervous as you walk up to the tall intimating Mandalorian. “Excuse me.” You say.

“Not interested.” He says shortly without even looking at you.

”What?” You asked, confused.

“I said I’m not interested.”

“Not interested in what?”

”Your services.”

”My services?” You don’t understand. Is he wanting to travel to the grounds by himself? That’s not an option....he wouldn’t be permitted on the estate without an escort. Didn’t Luke tell him of this arrangement?

Din exhales, clearly annoyed, and finally turns to look at you. “Do I need to spell it out for you? I’m not looking for a whore.”

You stand there, completely dumbfounded, your mouth slightly open from shock. A whore? What the fuck?!!

In his defense, you are wearing a rather skimpy-looking outfit. You have on what is essentially a tennis skirt and a bandeau; it’s the hot season on the planet. Even so, this guy is an asshole.

You take a breath and put a fake smile on your face. “My apologies….Din Djarin.” You say in a suggestive manner. Turning around to leave, Din whips around and grabs your upper arm tightly, yanking you closer to him.

“How do you know that name?” Din loudly whispers in a demanding, low voice.

You’re not stupid, you know that his name is known only by a few. “My industry has very skilled people.” You respond, hoping he will get the hint that you are in fact not a sex worker, but actually the person he’s supposed be meeting.

”Are you telling me your brothel somehow got a hold of my name?” Din is pretty pissed. Is this what he gets from doing dealings with Jedi? His name gets leaked to brothels?

You let out a sigh as your eyes roll. You snatch your arm out of his grasp and move swiftly out the door into the street. What a jerk. This guy can find his own way to the compound.

Din tries to follow you, needing to know how a random whore got his name, but the streets are pretty crowded.

”Oh, Mr. Djarin!” Din hears someone say. He looks over his shoulder and sees Luke Skywalker approaching him.

“H-hi, Master Skywalker.” Din says, deciding to give up on his pursuit of you, after all, that’s not the reason he’s here.

“I’m surprised to see you here, did my Padawan not pick you up?” Luke asks.

“No. He never showed.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry about that. Let me take you to the Jedi Temple.”

************************************* You hear your Master’s voice and footsteps nearing the empty lounge you’re sitting in. It’s a pretty big, dark lit room. There’s a conference table on one end, and an arrangement of couches and chairs spread across the place. It’s always empty, and you often use the area to meditate or exercise or just hang out. You pretend to look busy, eager for what’s about to occur.

“It is strange that my Padawan did not show up to greet you.” You hear Luke say behind the wall. He pokes his head around the door. “Ah, here she is.” He says walking into the lounge.

She? Din walks a few feet behind Luke. He turns the corner and walks through the door, freezing in his footsteps as soon as he lays eyes on you. There you are, the woman who approached him at the cantina….Luke’s Padawan.

You stare into his visor with a smug half smile on your face and slowly rise from your seat. You’re reveling in how taken aback he clearly is.

“Y/n, this is Din Djarin. I thought we discussed that you’d meet him at the cantina and escort him to the Academy? He says you didn’t show.” Luke says innocently as he stands between you and Din.

“Oh. I did go to the cantina. I guess I missed you.” You say slowly with your eyes locked on his helmet. “My apologies, Din Djarin.”

Din clears his throat. “Um n-no worries at all.” He chokes out. Shit! Din can’t believe he called you a whore. How did he not see the laser sword on your hip?

“Alright, well I’m gonna get to my meeting. Y/n, show Din around, alright?” Luke says.

“Of course Master.” You say with a slight bow of your head. You plant your gaze back on Din’s helmet as it rotates to watch Luke exit.

He slowly turns his look back to you, staring at him confidently with your hands on your hips.

“I’m sorry.” He says flatly through his modulator.

“For being such an asshole?” You say tilting your head.

“Yes. And assuming you were a prostitute.”

“There’s nothing wrong with sex workers. I’m not offended that you mistook me for one.” You say. But….why does it kind of turn you on that he thought you were a whore? Ugh and why does it turn you on that he is such a jerk??

There’s an awkward pause as you both stand there examining each other.

“So, you’re also a…Pawa-don?” Din asks, trying to fill the quiet. He has never been uncomfortable with silence before, in fact, he more often than not preferred it. But right now for some reason he feels different.

“Padawan.” You correct him. “And yes.”

“So are you doing the same training as the kid?” He further probes.

“Kind of. Grogu is more in the elementary stages of training. His focus is mainly on developing and fine-tuning his sensation with the Force. Most of my training nowadays centers around my lightsaber mastery and combat.” You inform him.

“Hm. Wonder when you’ll be good enough to battle me.” Din says casually as he takes a breath.

“What?” You ask.

“I said I wonder when you’ll be good enough in combat to put up a fight against me.”

Is he serious? Is he trying to provoke you? Even after the predicament he just found himself in with you? “Ha….um….I was good enough to fight you years ago.” You declare

Din looks at you for a moment. “I’m a Mandalorian.” He says simply.

“.....”

“The Mandalorian who wields the Darksaber. So you’re either overestimating your own ability or underestimating mine.”

You take a deep breath and take a step closer to him. “I know most people think that Mandalorians are the greatest warriors in the galaxy, but that’s because they don’t know of the Jedi Order. My connection with the force gives me strength that you will never know, that you will never be able to comprehend.”

Din takes a step closer to you. “That may be, but I have decades of combat experience that is simply unmatched by you, not to mention the most imperishable armour in the galaxy.”

“So what I’m hearing is that you would like to duel.” You say as you remove your saber from its holster and activate its blade. It’s a light lavender color, thin and sleek.

“That’s cute.” Din says. “Just a reminder, little girl. You were given that light saber. I won mine in battle.” He proclaims as he detaches his saber from his belt. *see gif*

“I made it. But fair point. Now enough talk, Mandalorian, are you ready to duel or what?” You say as you get into a battle stance.

Din holds his hand out. “If, by some miracle, you do happen to overpower me, don’t touch the saber. Bo-Katan is already mad enough that I have it, I can’t imagine what she’d do if a non-Mandalorian gets their hands on it again.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m well aware of the bizarre way that the ruler of Mandalore is chosen.”

“Alright then, princess, I won’t hold back.”

You feel heat rush through your core at those words. Princess. He won’t hold back. Uggh... focus! This guy has been demeaning you since the moment you met him, show him how powerful you are!

*************************************

You and Din battle for a good seven minutes, the two of you are pretty evenly matched, neither one of you gains the upper hand for very long. Just as you’re feeling your strength falter, you’re able to knock his saber out of his hands, and you push him onto the ground. Din tries to get up and reach for his saber but you plant yourself on top of him, straddling him. He looks up at you in defeat.

He takes a deep breath as you stare down at him. That’s when you notice the tent in his pants. You’re sitting on his legs so that his bulge is right above your crotch.

Adrenaline is pumping through your veins from your victory and a smile stretches across your face. “I have another quality that puts me at an advantage that I forgot to mention: your attraction to me and your primal desire to fuck me.” You say as you slowly place your hand on top of his clothed erection. You lean down and bring your face close to his helmet. “I bet your face is just bright red underneath this helmet of yours. Not only did you lose the battle, but your urges got the best of you.” You say in a condescending tone.

Din stares up at you, his chest moving up and down as he breathes.

“That’s where you and I differ.” You say. “A real warrior has self-control and self-restraint.”

Din moves his hands to your thighs and runs them up to your hips. “Who said I was trying to restrain myself?” He says in a raspy voice.

You’re a little caught off guard. You were teasing him, and this was not the reaction you were expecting. You thought he’d be embarrassed, you thought he’d want to get out of this situation as soon as possible.

“Face it.” You say after a pause. “You can’t repress your arousal, and your lack of self-control is a disadvantage to you.”

Din’s hands are still on your hips, and he pulls you up his body ever so slightly. “So since you have such great self-control, your panties wouldn’t happen to be wet right now, would they?” He inquires in a low, sultry voice.

You’re taken aback at his shameless words. “O-of course not.” You stutter as your confidence recedes.

“Let me see.” He demands flatly.

“What?” Did you hear him right? Your heart beat is pounding, you can’t tell if he’s joking around with you or not like you were doing with him.

“I said let me see.” Din says moving his gloved hands to the bottom of your skirt. “C’mon, pull this short little skirt up just a tad more and show me that your panties are dry.”

“N-no I–”

“Fine.” Din cuts you off. “I’ll do it myself.” He says as he removes one of his gloves. He then moves his bare hand under your skirt up to your pussy, easily pushing the thin panties you're wearing aside and planting two fingers inside your sopping wet folds.

You jerk at the contact of his soft skin on your sensitive pussy. “Din!” You exclaim. You grab his hand, but don’t move it.

Din chuckles. “Looks like you don’t have as much self-discipline as you claim.” He brings his other hand and cups your cheek. “Awwww, your face is just bright red right now.” Din mocks.

“W-whatever, you still lost.” You say out as you’re overcome with humiliation.

“Mmmmm. Congratulations.” Din says lazily as he removes his hand from your cunt and grabs your hips once again. “So, y/n. You showed me how Jedi fight. Let me show you how Mandalorians fuck.” He says as he pulls your hips and grinds you against his bulge.

Your panties are still pulled aside and the friction of his clothed erection against your clit makes you whimper.

“You– you wanna fuck me?” You ask hesitantly.

“Ha. Of course I wanna fuck you. Look at you.” He says as he lifts you off of him to stand up. Standing tall, he towers over you and brings his non-gloved hand to your chin, pulling it up gently to meet his gaze.

The unexpected and prompt shift in the power dynamic has you all turned around. Just moments ago, your confidence was through the roof. You were giddy claiming your victory against him, making fun of him for getting a boner during a duel. But the tone between the two of you has completely changed. He has you weak and timid, he’s looking down at your wide doe eyes as if you’re his prey.

“Come on, little Padawan. Practicing self-control is great, but let me show you what it’s like to lose all control over yourself.” Mando says as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him. “Cuz I would just love to tie you up and have my way with you.” He mutters. Dins hands slide down to your butt as he gropes your flesh, pulling you flat against him. “Let down your guard for just a moment and let me show you how rewarding it can be.” Din slips his bare hand back under your skirt to find your cunt even wetter than before. You let out a whimper and bat your eyes at him.

He starts slowly circling your clit, and moves his other hand up to caress your cheek softly. “Come on.” He whispers in your ear. “I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

High-pitched breaths are escaping your lips as he gently runs his thumb up and down your cheek bone.

“Can– can you not–” you breathe, sliding your hands up his chest.

“What. What is it?”

You pause for a moment. “Can you not be so gentle with me?” You say with slight embarrassment.

Din scoffs, “Oh baby girl, you’re gonna regret saying that.” He says as he grabs a fist full of your hair and roughly pulls your head back, exposing your delicate neck to him.

This harsh action sends shocks to your pussy. “Didn’t you say something about tying me up?” You purr with a slight smile, looking up into his visor.

“So I was right about you being a filthy fuckin whore.” Din spits as he shoves a finger inside of you, his thumb rubbing against your clit.

“Y-yeah, but only for you.” You whine as your eyes fall closed and high-pitched moans begin escaping your lips.

“Ohh that’s right baby.” Din praises. He’s so turned on by the way you’re speaking and responding to his touch, and he loves the impact he has on you. How you so quickly went from a confident fighter when he lost to you, to a shy little girl when he started teasing you, to a dirty slut once he got his hands in your panties.

He starts pumping his finger faster and you can hear the lewd noises your obscenely wet pussy is making. Your mouth opens even more with your moans becoming more pronounced and your back arches. You’re standing pressed flat up against him, he’s basically holding you up on your toes with one arm as his other hand drives into your cunt.

You can feel your orgasm just beginning to climb when you suddenly hear a beep on your watch’s intercom. It jolts you back to reality.

“Y/n, are you at the lounge? I’m heading back there now.” Your Master says through the intercom.

“Shit.” You say as you push Din’s chest, pulling yourself off of him. “I should have shown you to your accommodation by now.” You say as you frantically start looking around your feet for your saber. By the time you grab it and look up for Din, he has already made his way out the back exit.

You attach your saber to your hip as you try to steady your breathing, disoriented from the abrupt conclusion of whatever it was you were doing with Din. You hear Luke’s footsteps approaching as you quickly try to put your panties back in place, growling at how soaked they are. You’re praying that your Master doesn’t notice the wetness that has been smudged on your inner thighs.

*************************************

You cannot believe what you did with Din. No one has ever done anything like that to you before. You get hit on all the time— you’re gorgeous— but you are almost never interested enough to give them the time of day. But Din? He had his fingers in your pussy after knowing you for ten minutes. How did he do that!?

It’s the early evening. You lie in your bed visualizing the events over and over again, heat pooling in your core as you replay the dirty things he said to you.

While it fuels your arousal, you also feel uneasy about the interaction. He left so quickly, and he left without saying a word to you, almost like nothing had happened. You hope that Din doesn’t think less of you, that he doesn’t think you’re some hussy who is easily persuaded into letting guys she just met finger fuck her.

You are pulled away from your anxious thoughts when you hear your intercom going off. It’s your friends talking about what they’re doing tonight. You don’t really care to pay attention, but you sit straight up in your bed when you hear something about that “Mandalorian who’s visiting the Academy,” and how he’s “at the cantina in town.”

You jump out of bed and without even thinking, you grab a sweater and head toward the parlor.

Your heart is beating on the chilly walk there. You hope he’s surprised to see you, you hope he’s excited to see you. You’re gonna act casual, yeah, like you didn’t even know he was there. No big deal! You’re just going to the cantina to hang with your friends. And then you see eachother, and bing bang boom, you guys are back in your room fucking while he calls you his little slut. Yes. This is gonna go great.

It’s a Friday night and the cantina is bustling. People are dancing, drinking, and gambling. It’s so loud that you can barely hear yourself think. As you make your way through the rowdy crowd, you spot Din’s helmet over the hordes of people. He is sitting in a somewhat secluded booth in the corner of the restaurant.

You proceed a few steps forward, lightly pushing people to get through the crowd, and then, your heart drops. He’s not sitting alone. There’s a girl, a woman, a sex worker, wrapped in his arm.

You stand there for a moment as everything goes quiet, you stare at Din and the beautiful woman in a tight short dress sitting beside him. She’s talking to him, saying things into the side of his helmet as he sits there looking forward with his arm casually draped around her, man spreading and all.

Din’s head turns and that’s when he notices you, standing there among the crowd of people in that same short high waisted skirt and a cropped sweater of the same color.

You feel something fall deep in your chest as you realize that he sees you. You blink a few times as the rest of your senses come back, humiliation and embarrassment overcoming you as you quickly turn around and stumble out of the bar.

You make your way into the dark street and take a few deep breaths before running back to the Academy. You're fighting off tears as you feel the cold air pinching every bit of your exposed skin.

You can’t believe that you let yourself become smitten by someone who was such an asshole. He mistook you for a whore, he insulted your combat skills, he pressed you to let him fuck you! You should have expected this.

A tear rolls down your cheek. Why did you think he liked you? He didn’t. He didn’t like you. And he didn’t want to fuck you, he just wanted to fuck someone, and you were the closest one to him. You let him use you. He must do this kind of shit all the time with women, you were nothing special.

You get back to your room and bury yourself under your covers, wanting to escape so badly from this reality.

TO BE CONTINUED

The Visit Part Two

The Visit Part Three

*************************************

Masterlist

*************************************

Taglist:

@pinkninja200 @raspberrymama @stevie75 @tacticalsparkles @kenoobiwan @shark-s @theamuz @blackrose8425 @beskarboobs @beskarboobs @smutslutz @princess-djarinn @spideysimpossiblegirl @riot-rotten

[hispipsqueak]

Forever

Hanta Sero x F!Reader NSFW

Summary: After years of being together, you and Sero decide to reminisce in the best way possible.

WC: 2.2K

A/N: Hi friends! Sero is one of those characters that I truly see as good husband material and I wanted to express some of those feelings in this piece. I know for a lot of us, especially in my age range, growing up and leaving that age of “dumb teenager/early 20′s mess” to “adult with responsibilities” is a big change and I hope that is reflected a bit in this. Also, there’s car sex. So that’s fun :D As always, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated! Thanks for reading <3 P.S: CAN WE TALK ABOUT SERO IN THE NEW EP??? ahhhh

TW: car sex, adulting/getting older, domestic relationship, daddy kink, breeding kink, mentions of drug use

Sero's eyes stared at the glowing screen, trying to comprehend the information yet again.

His gaze darted toward the corner, 3:36 A.M., and he yawned, before blinking and trying to re-read the document again. 

"Hey pretty boy." 

The smell of jasmine perfume and honey wafted in and he smiled sleepily as you ran your fingers through his shaggy black hair.

"Mm...I know, I know." He muttered, nuzzling into your touch. You were his rock, always making sure he ate well and slept enough, making sure he wouldn't overwork himself. Sero thought back to your UA days of sneaking out at 3 AM to some fast food joint and getting stoned while eating greasy fries in the back of his car. Time sure flew, huh?

You rested your head on his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his neck.

"Come to bed. Paperwork will still be there in the morning, I promise.", you muttered into his soft skin. He relented and pulled himself out of the chair, twirling you around so he had you pressed against the wall.

His eyes roamed your face. You were still gorgeous as the day he first laid eyes on you in high school.

"Whatcha thinkin' about, Hanta?" you whispered. He grinned, that toothy smirk that you fell in love with unchanged after all these years, and kissed you. 

"Just reminiscing. Thinking about how far we've come. Remember when we were annoying teenagers, sneaking out of the dorms?" 

"I'm pretty sure we are the reason for Aizawa's grey hairs now. Remember when your van broke down and we had to beg Bakugo to pick us up at 4 A.M.?" you giggled back, thinking of the blonde's angry scolding the entire ride home.

The two of you chuckled quietly, thinking about the years past. You glanced down at your hand, the sparkling diamond that adorned it shining in the dim room. 

"I remember the day you proposed too. I'm pretty sure I thought you were going to dump me." you teased.

Even in the dark, you could see his face flush and his eyes narrow.

"I was NERVOUS. I was trying to ask the love of my life to spend the rest of our lives together and you just sat there being beautiful and Denki spent the day before trying to convince me to do a flash mob and it was a LOT of pressure!"

"You literally started off with, 'We've had some bad times, and some good times, and this was fun'." You laughed, picturing his face that day. He was sweating bullets and your heart was sinking, thinking he was ending it. He had been so secretive and weird the weeks prior, as opposed to his normally chilled out demeanor. 

Sero kissed your forehead.

"I still have no idea why you said yes, but you're stuck with me, babe." He clinked his matching band against yours, a gesture the two of you did to remind yourselves of your unbreakable bond. 

His long arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close to him and you buried yourself into his chest, smelling his citrus-scented soap. He rested his chin on your hair. 

"When did we get so old, Y/N?" He whispered, his eyes looking at the walls behind you. Pictures of the two of you decorated the house. The pair of you in matching sunglasses at the beach, a group photo of you two and the squad at dinner after the aforementioned proposal, a candid on your wedding day, and then the two of you holding your twin boys.

"I'm pretty sure after we became parents." you mumbled into his chest, your sleepiness apparent in your voice. "I think once I had to say Daddy in a non-sexual way, was when I realized we were old." 

Sero chuckled quietly, his hands squeezing your waist. 

"But, we're still cool right? We aren't our parents." 

You looked up at him, eyebrows raised.

"Hanta, are you worried about getting older?"

He closed his eyes. 

"Not worried as much as...I just...I don't wanna be an old guy who drives a minivan and talks about retirement and golf."

Your eyes widened and you burst into laughter.

"Baby, I'm pretty sure you would never take up golf."

Sero pouted and you grinned before continuing.

"But in all seriousness, we aren't the kids we were in high school. Maybe we can't pull all nighters and still function the next day, and maybe we have to be parents who eat more vegetables and less french fries. But it's also nice to have a car that doesn't require a running start to move, and have a house instead of sneaking in and out of each other's dorm rooms. And you know, the kids are KIND OF cool."

He nodded.

"They are pretty cool kids."

You cupped his face, tilting him towards you.

"If I have to grow old with someone, I'm glad it's with you."

His face flushed and he pressed his lips to yours, kissing you deeply. You gently tugged at the longer hair behind his ears as you kissed him back. He let out a low groan and his hands kneaded at your curves, squeezing your ass and hips.

Finally, the two of you broke apart, breathless and grinning. He pressed his forehead to yours.

"How about…we reminisce a little more? Maybe...in the car, for old time's sake?"

You nodded and the two of you headed to the garage, trying to stay as quiet as possible to not wake up the kids. Sero opened the car door and the two of you slid in the backseat, giggling like teenagers. 

You straddled him and could feel his cock through his joggers. He groaned as you grinded against it, teasing him with hungry hot kisses to his neck. 

“You’re such a tease, princess.” He whispered before tracing the shell of your ear with his tongue. Your body shivered at his touch. Even after all this time, he made you feel like a lovestruck schoolgirl. You ran your hands down his toned chest, his body lean from hero work, and slid your fingers underneath his shirt.

Sero took this as an invitation to pull off his black tank top and you did the same to your sleeping shirt, an old band tee that you snagged from him. His hands cupped your breasts, slowly kneading the soft flesh as he placed soft kisses on your collarbone and shoulder.

“Mmm...you’re so fucking beautiful. How the hell did I get so damn lucky, babe?” He said between kisses. Sero had a way of making you feel like the sexiest woman in the world and you couldn’t help but smile as he worshipped your breasts, kissing and licking his way down till he latched his mouth over your nipple. 

Using his other hand to tweak and tug at the hardened bud, he alternated between the two, sucking and leaving soft bites. Your back arched involuntarily, pushing your chest deeper into his mouth as you moaned.

“Fuck…need you Hanta.”

His long fingers worked their way down your belly, tracing circular patterns as he reached your sex. He ran a finger across your slit, barely parting your folds.

“What do you want, baby? Tell Daddy what you want.”

“Please...please touch me. Please daddy.” you begged, grinding yourself against him for the smallest amount of friction. You could feel yourself leaving a mess on his sweatpants, but you needed his touch.

He let out a deep chuckle.

“So desperate, huh baby? Let daddy take care of you.” You bit your lip as he plunged two fingers into your cunt. The length, combined with the hooking motion had you gasping. He continued to plunge in and out of your sopping heat as you rocked against him. Your thighs tensed, threatening to close on his arm. He maneuvered the two of you so you were laying on your back across the seat, his hand gripping your soft thighs, holding you in place as he finger-fucked you.

“Take it like a good girl baby. Let daddy make you feel good. You look so beautiful for me baby.” He praised you as he pushed deeper into you. You could feel him hit spots in you that made you see stars. All you could do was lay back and cry from the overwhelming pleasure that clouded your brain.

“Fuck...daddy, gonna cum soon!” you wailed, eyes rolling back. Hanta then chose this moment to pull his fingers from you, leaving your pussy to clench around nothing. You let out a frustrated whimper, tears leaking from your eyes.

“I’m so sorry baby, but I promise I’m gonna make it all better. You trust me baby?” He asked, his eyes dark with desire and something primal.

You nodded, sniffling at the shock of your orgasm being ripped from you. He tapped your lips with his fingers,still dripping of your arousal. Obediently, you opened and sucked on the two fingers, tasting yourself. 

“Look how good you taste baby. You’re such a good girl for me. I want you to lick up every last drop from my fingers. Can you do that for daddy?” He asked, grinning.

Nodding dumbly, you slurped down every bit of yourself from his hand. He pressed against your tongue, making you gag around him. You looked up at him, drool falling from the corners of your mouth. 

Hanta felt his cock twitch. Fuck you looked so sexy, so fucked and in love. He could see the devotion in your eyes as you looked at him awaiting his next instructions.

He pulled his hand back, strings of saliva hanging off of his calloused fingers. He propped himself above you so he was looking right down at your gorgeously fucked out face.

“You ready baby? You ready to take all of Daddy’s cock?” He asked, tugging your shorts down and lining himself up with your entrance. Your fingers found their way to his neck, tugging him close to you. The two of you shared a deep kiss, exchanging unspoken promises and memories before breaking apart. You nodded, looking deep into his eyes.

“Always."

Hanta felt his face flush, before slowly pressing into your tight heat. You bit your lip. No matter how many times the two of you had done this, you still had to prepare for his length. He wasn’t the thickest but his cock was long and lean just like him, with a curve that pressed itself right against your most sensitive spots.

“Fuck...you feel so good for me. You’re squeezing me so well baby.” He murmured, his dark eyes drinking in every inch of your body. His hands ran up and down your sides as he looked down at you and he gave you a small grin as he pinched your hip. You dug your fingertips into his shoulder blades, pulling him flush against you.

“Oh fuck you feel so good.” You rocked your hips against him, rolling yourself onto his cock. He took this as a cue to go faster and started to piston deeper inside of you, his balls slapping against your ass. His tip slammed against your walls, burying him deeper inside you. Moans and sighs filled the backseat and you gripped him tightly.

“That’s it babe, that’s it. Taking daddy so fucking deep. Fuck you’re sucking me in so well. I might have to knock you up again if you keep it up. You want that princess? Want daddy to put another baby inside you?” Hanta panted, hungrily kissing your neck and shoulder as he fucked into you faster. His teeth nipped at the thin skin and you cried out, from a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Answer me baby girl.”

“Y-yes daddy! Please fill me up with your cum. Need you so bad. Wan’a have your baby.” You moaned, delirious from him. The windows to the car were foggy and sweat ran down your bodies as you repeatedly crashed into each other, and yet all you could feel was him, all you wanted was to stay with him and please him as much as you could.

He could feel his release rapidly approaching. His hand snaked down to your clit and he pressed tight circles to the sensitive bud. Your back arched from the seat as you moaned out a mixture of curses and begs. Your mindless babbling spurred him on more. He wanted to keep fucking you, make it so you couldn’t remember your own name, drive you insane with desire and want.

“Tell me who’s fucking you so good baby. Who’s making you feel so fucking good? Who’s cum do you want to fill that tight little pussy of yours?” He breathed out, slamming into you impossibly faster.

“Daddy daddy daddy - DADDY!” you chanted, your mind fuzzy as you tightened around him, creaming on his cock. You wrapped your legs around his waist and rode out your high on his cock as your eyes fluttered and your mouth dropped open.

“That’s it, that’s it, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He groaned out as he released into you, filling you with his seed. His cock twitched, spurting his load into you and his fingers gripped your hips, holding you tightly as he filled you up.

The two of you panted, breathing hard as you came down from your highs, slowly moving into a position where he could hold you. He moved some strands of hair, plastered to your face with sweat, and pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

“I love you.” 

You grinned, sleepiness overtaking your body as you leaned into him, your lips pressing against his skin.

“Forever.”

[irrelevantwriter]

No Questions, No Lies

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids, angst, characters who refuse to say how they feel, asshole Rio (low key loves it)

Word Count: 4.7K

Summary: Part 4. Riding a high, you decide to invite Rio over. But things don’t go as planned.

A/N: Once again, I am here, standing in front of you lovely people and saying thank you for all the love and support this series has gotten. It means the world. And then some. Onto the good shit...this part has lots of feelings, not all of them good. Angst is heavy towards the end, but first...smut. We love some toxic ass yearning, don't we? Also, we get some Rio POV in the first half. I’ve got two more parts planned so as always, stay tuned. I hope you guys like it. Feedback is that good shit. 💗

*Read Part 1 here

*Read Part 2 here

*Read Part 3 here

*Read Part 5 here

*Give and Take series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

*********************

He shifted in his seat, eyes glancing in the rearview mirror. He caught a glimpse of you as you handed off the bag of cash to Mick. Your gaze tried to find his through the blackened windows, searching for his presence in the front seat of the Mercedes SUV. It was no use. The tint was as dark as he could get it without drawing attention. Not that it mattered. The cops were always sniffing around...waiting for him to slip up. They were going to be waiting a long time.

He rubbed his chin as you rounded the vehicle and opened the passenger door. A cool breeze carrying the scent of your perfume swept in as you settled into the seat. He took you in slowly, gaze sweeping over your body as it often did when in your company. The sweater and jeans you wore were nondescript enough, but the hint of cleavage was obvious. And because you wanted to draw his attention, he gave you what you wanted and admired the area he’d been up close with only weeks before.

“Hi.” You greeted somewhat shyly, the gesture making him smirk. Even after the sex, you still got nervous around him. It had lessened tremendously since he’d first fucked you on your kitchen counter, but it wasn’t gone completely. And he had to admit that he liked that. Liked that he had such an effect on you.

“Sup, mama…” He replied, licking his lips as you averted your eyes from his.

It’d been three weeks since he’d shown up at your house in the early morning hours, announcing his return. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t miss being inside you. Now that he’d gotten a taste, it was difficult to manage without it. But you both had tedious schedules. He had several businesses. You had your kids. It didn’t always line up. And for three weeks it hadn’t. But seeing you now...he’d happily fuck you into the expensive leather of his seats if you’d let him.

“Everything good?” He prompted, noticing that you were fidgeting with your hands. You seemed worried, like something was weighing heavy on your mind. That wasn’t good.

“Yeah, yeah...of course.” You replied unconvincingly.

Rio leaned forward across the seat and placed a hand over both of yours, stilling the anxious movement of your fingers. Your eyes finally met his, a smile gracing your lips.

“What’s wrong?” He gruffly demanded, more out of concern for his operation than your personal feelings.

Your response surprised him.

“I need you to come over tonight.”

He took a long moment to silently take you and your words in. There was a softness in your features. It was unlike the expression of stress he’d seen you wear before. This wasn’t about business. This was personal.

“For what?” He asked, releasing your hand and sitting back to face you.

You bit your bottom lip and he watched as the appendage came away glossy and begging to be touched. His hand itched to reach out, but he stopped himself. Eager to see where you were taking this. Because he already had an idea.

“I...I need you.” You whispered, your gaze sliding to the deserted streets just beyond the windshield. You were hesitant. And that wasn’t going to work. He was going to have to teach you to take. In this world, there was no room for hesitation. You had to have the confidence to demand. If you didn’t, the weight of those around you who did would crush you.

Despite your timidness, his body hummed at your breathy confession. His blood pumped wildly in his veins while deep male satisfaction filled his chest. Inwardly, he was gloating. Outwardly, he was calm and nonchalant.

He shook his head and angled his ear towards you, as if signaling he couldn’t hear. “You gotta speak up.”

There was no humor in his tone. He wasn’t trying to tease you. He was acting as your instructor. Forcing you to be real about what you wanted.

He heard you scoff and as he turned to face you once again, he could see your hand reach out for the door handle. He stopped you with an outstretched arm, making sure to brush against your chest as he did.

“Just tell me what you want, darling.” He rasped, coercing your eyes to meet his.

You sighed, seemingly frustrated with yourself. He lifted his arm from across your body and instead let his fingertips trail down the side of your face. He watched from his peripheral as your chest expanded with a heavy breath, your breasts straining against the fabric of your sweater.

“You. I need you.” You repeated, the conviction clear in your voice this time.

He nodded, his thumb tracing the pout of your bottom lip. “That’s what I thought you said.”

Rio leaned in close, his mouth hovering dangerously over yours. You licked your lips in preparation for the action, the motion momentarily hypnotizing him. His eyes swept over your face, taking in every detail. His intense study made you shift in your seat. Maybe it was unease. He hoped it was arousal.

“I’ll be there.” He replied, pulling away and settling back into his own seat.

You blinked and nodded, still seemingly dazed by his proximity.

He hadn’t kissed you. And it was intentional. The constant push and pull of your relationship was maddening on most days. There was always an aspect of it that needed attention. Whether it was business or personal. It was always work. But times like these were what made it worth it. The teasing. The buildup. The attraction. It was so palpable he could practically taste it against his tongue. You were as frustrating as you were alluring and he was going to indulge in that combination until there was nothing left.

He wanted it all.

************

You smoothed out the fabric of your dress for the umpteenth time as you scrutinized your reflection. Nerves knotted in your stomach as you struggled to maintain some form of composure. Rio had texted you ten minutes before to say he was on his way. You didn’t know how much time that gave you, but it didn’t matter. It wouldn’t be enough.

You’d regretted your desperate demand of him the instant you’d left his car earlier that day. The cool air had pulled you from the fog of your lust and threw you back into reality. And it wasn’t good. You’d made a fool of yourself. You were better than that. You could form full sentences and express thoughts. You were confident and fully capable of telling a man to come over so that you could sleep with him. Especially one you’d already slept with.

You tried to find the courage that had consumed you the last time you’d slept with him. You’d taken without asking and he’d happily reciprocated. It was the very definition of raw desire and you had every intention of recreating it tonight.

Which is why you were taking extra care to make sure your dress was perfect, along with your hair and makeup. Not that it truly mattered. He’d already seen you practically fresh out of bed in cotton panties.

A knock at the front door made you jump in surprise, the knots in your stomach now turning to butterflies. You took one last look at yourself before you made your way towards the entryway, your bare feet soundless along the cool hardwood floors.

You opened the door, seeing Rio on the other side. He looked good. He always looked good. Dark shirt, dark jeans. And that unwavering look of smugness he so often wore. He was expressive without having to do or say much. He was self-assured. Arrogant even. The calm intensity he possessed was almost a magical power, holding you captive. It had a dual effect on your body. You were afraid. But it paled in comparison to your insistent arousal.

“Hi,” You greeted, gesturing for him to come in.

He did so wordlessly, eyes taking in your form as he moved. He let you lead him through the house and towards the kitchen and you swore you could feel his gaze blazing across your back, leaving a mark. He was good at that. He was good at making you feel seen. The rush of having someone pay attention to you in the way that Rio did was utterly seductive. It was addictive. And you wanted it for as long as he was willing to give it to you.

“You want something to drink?” You asked over your shoulder, heading towards the cabinet that housed the whiskey.

Rio’s voice stopped you.

“Nah, I’m good.”

You faltered and turned to see him leaning against the wall, watching you with an amused expression. Your insides heated with every silent second that passed between you. Looking at him made you remember why you’d asked him over. It wasn’t for a drink and it definitely wasn’t for small talk. Primal need began to swell within you as you stepped towards him. He was going to make you see your desperation through.

He straightened as you approached and invaded his space. You reached a hand out to trace the buttons of his shirt, gently tugging at the end of the fabric as you did.

“Come on,” You whispered, nodding your head in the direction of your bedroom. Any form of pretense was gone. You both knew why he was there...why he’d actually shown up.

You prayed he followed as you walked down the hall and into a space he had yet to be invited into. Until now. His footsteps echoed behind you, entering the bedroom and taking in his surroundings. You swallowed and turned to face him, pure want reflecting in his eyes. It urged you forward.

“Sit on the bed.” You commanded, voice surprisingly steady.

The corner of Rio’s lips edged upwards, but he did as you said. It appeared as if he was humoring you, expecting that you’d back out and end the night before it even began. But you were far past that. He’d made it clear, without words, that he wasn’t going to make this easy for you. He was going to make you work for everything. Whether that be his money or his affection. So you’d do it. You’d put in the work. And he’d reward you.

You reached for the zipper on the back of your dress, but it was too high. You stepped between his legs and faced away from him, motioning to the metal teeth that held the garment together.

“You mind?” You asked, waiting in anticipation. It was only a second later when you felt the brush of his finger against your back as he lowered the zipper. He made sure to drag his skin across yours, slowly and feather-light. It was almost non-existent, yet it pulled a shiver from you anyway.

You caught the loosened fabric before it fell, holding it to your chest. You turned and met his hooded gaze, noting the way his jaw was clenched. You let the dress fall to the floor, revealing the black lace you wore underneath. His eyes scanned your body like a predator stalking its prey, your nipples hardening in response. The sheer material of the bra barely concealed your body’s reaction. He took notice.

“That new?” He asked, chin jutting out and gesturing to the lace that adorned your body.

You stepped out of the dress and back between the space of his thighs, forcing him to look up at you. That familiar spicy scent filled your nostrils. It was his scent. And it lured you in further to his body’s warmth.

“If you want to think that highly of yourself.” You quipped with a coquettish smile, hands resting on his shoulders. His own hands remained on his thighs; not showing any indication that he was going to reach out and touch you.

His question had been spot on though. You had in fact went out and bought new lingerie. Several things in fact. And you might’ve bought them in black. A color that reminded you of only one person.

Rio chuckled lowly at your answer, licking his lips as you eased your breasts near his face. “You can’t let me have an inch, can you?” He challenged, an eyebrow raised in question as he looked up at you.

“If I give you an inch, you’ll take a mile.” You retorted, hands skimming along the back of his scalp. His fingers twitched against your legs at the motion, so you made sure to do it again.

Again he laughed. Humorless and patronizing.

“I can’t take what’s already mine.”

He said the words with so much confidence that you had to pause. You stilled your hands and for once stared right back into the depthless pools of his eyes. You predictably got lost in them, as you so often did with anything involving the man. His declarations of ownership should’ve scared you. They should’ve made you turn and run away. Instead, you went headlong into the storm.

“Pretty confident in yourself.” You replied, lowering yourself to your knees. He let his thighs fall open to make room for you, his expression showing just how pleased he was with your change in position.

“I’m not the one on my knees.” He threw back, hand finally reaching out to caress your cheek. His thumb swiped at your lips as his eyes zeroed in on them, no doubt picturing them wrapped around him.

“Touché.” You teased, kissing his thumb as it slid across your mouth.

You ran your hands up his thighs and towards his belt buckle. He let you, posture relaxing as he allowed you to do as you pleased. You shifted his pants and underwear out of the way as you pulled him free, your mouth already salivating at the sight. He was hardening with every second, veins and ridges calling to your womb like an old friend. You could feel him watching you as you leaned forward and placed a soft lick to the head of his cock. He tasted salty, but clean, and you wanted more.

You suckled at the tip of him while your hand worked the saliva around his length. He was long and pulsing with yearning in your palm. You let your mouth water around him, the sound of skin sliding against slickened skin now filling the room. The sound aided you in your efforts. You opened your throat to take him in, swallowing and savoring the low groan he expelled. It was music to your ears.

You listened to his reactions, catching every twitch of his cock along your tongue. You mercilessly teased him as you licked long strips along his flesh before you suctioned your cheeks and tightened around him. Your hands worked in tandem. Stroking what you couldn’t fit in your mouth while traveling down to caress his sac. He grunted and jerked with the action, causing him to slip further down your throat. Tears filled your eyes, but you kept going.

Moisture touched your tongue and you knew he was close. You chanced a glance up and was rewarded with a blissed out Rio. His head was angled back, his adam’s apple bobbing deliciously behind inked flesh as his hand made it to the back of your head. He didn’t push, but he didn’t have to. You happily gagged on his cock.

“That’s enough.” He commanded, voice low and tinged with barely contained control. He pushed your hands off of him and angled your chin up to him, his mouth descending on yours without a second thought.

You let him taste himself. Tongues intertwined in a show of eroticism that mimicked what your bodies longed to do. You steadied yourself on your knees as you grabbed at his shirt while his hands cradled your face. You wanted him to touch you...to explore your body in every way possible. It felt like your entire being was on fire and only he could soothe the ache. You needed him...badly.

“Touch me...please.” You pleaded once you’d broken apart.

He began to unbutton his shirt, discarding the piece of clothing easily as you waited. “Stand up.”

You did as he said, standing on shaky legs between his own. He reached out and smoothed his palms over your thighs and around to your ass, grasping the flesh and kneading. Your eyes closed in blessed relief, a moan just on the tip of your tongue. You jerked in his arms when you felt the wet heat of his mouth against your stomach, his lips trailing kisses along the flesh. Your hands held his head steady as he gave you what you craved. His fingers slid under the band of your panties, shifting the material up and down on your hips.

Impatience drove you to reach around and unclasp your bra, baring your breasts to his hungry kisses. He didn’t miss a beat. He mouthed at the underside of your breasts while his hands cupped them, massaging the sensitive mounds with skillful touches. Your panties felt too restrictive and uncomfortable. Wetness pooled in them as Rio’s touch urged more from you.

“The bed.” You gasped, feeling him pinch a nipple. The sensation made you shudder.

His presence disappeared from your body as he stood, pushing his jeans and underwear down. They fell to the floor as he stepped out of them, his shoes already off. You took him in for the first time. Took in the scarred flesh and lines of ink that ran along sinewy muscles. He was lean, but beautifully toned. All male.

You followed his lead and pushed the last scrap of clothing you wore down. The material fell easily to your feet and you kicked them away. You reveled in the way he looked at you. Untamed and feral. Like you were sin incarnate. It made your pussy clench in urgency.

Your palms glided up his firm chest as you reached forward to kiss him. He reciprocated, insistent hands guiding you to the bed. You let yourself fall to the mattress, his body following yours. Your mouths didn’t separate. You both savored the moment of finally being bare and pressed so closely to one another. You relished the flavors that sat on your tongues as you kissed, barely able to take in a breath. Hands roamed without barriers as he wedged himself between your thighs. You accommodated him, pushing your hips up to entice him inside you. A finger found its way there instead, dragging along your walls and collecting the moisture that had settled within.

“You ready?” He whispered into your ear, his finger now strumming at your swollen clit.

You nodded and moaned, hoping that was answer enough. Your back arched into his chest when he pressed the head of his cock at your entrance, lathering himself in you. Your nails dug into his back, your legs tightening around him. He showered you with tender kisses along your neck as his hips rutted against yours, not yet slipping into the place you both desperately needed him to be.  

“Look at me.”

You obeyed, locking gazes with him as he hovered over you. The moment lasted only a second before he was pushing forward. He was fully sheathed and throbbing within you as you clung to him, mouth open but no sound coming out. His face was buried into your neck as you both became reacquainted with the other. You felt deliciously full. Overwhelmingly so as his cock nudged the natural barrier within you. He was as far as he could go, and yet you wanted him closer.

“Move.” You said with a whimper, shifting your hips so that his cock dragged along your velvet walls.

Rio obliged, a prisoner to the cyclone of sensations that had swept you both up. He set a steady pace, his strokes deep and thorough. You cried out when he thrust so hard that you edged up the bed, the headboard rattling against the wall. Beams of light glowed behind your eyelids as he hit every spot as if he was made to. You clung to the silver chain that hung from his neck as he grunted in your ear, each pass of him stealing your breath.

“This what you wanted? Hmm?” He punctuated his question with a bruising drive of his hips forward, making your toes curl.

“Fuck, yes…” You moaned, disoriented by it all. The feel of him atop you. The rhythm of his hot breaths against your neck. The growls that rumbled from his throat. The sting of being stretched as he fucked you. It was enough to have you succumbing to your climax before you were even ready.

You slipped a hand between your bodies and rubbed at your clit, increasing the intensity of your impending release. You locked your legs around his waist and scratched at the sheets as ecstasy washed over you. Your pussy contracted with earth-shattering tremors as you flooded Rio’s cock with your spendings. A litany of moans and gasps accompanied your free fall into space. The man above you stilled as you rode out the waves of orgasm and clenched around him in almost painful spasms. And then, your entire body went limp.

The headboard resumed its melody against the wall as Rio chased his own end. He maneuvered onto his knees, his cock never leaving the confines of your body. He watched you from this new vantage point, taking in the expression of euphoria you wore. Your hands trailed up your abdomen and across your breasts, cupping them for him. His hips picked up speed, his body slapping against yours and creating an echo. You accepted it all as he finally came, filling you full with every drive of his hips. He held you firm as he emptied himself within you, ensuring not a drop was wasted. You hummed at the feel of it, warm and thick and possessing you.

His fingers loosened their hold on your thighs as he came down, the flesh already sore from his grip. He soothed the area, the motion making your eyes feel heavy with sleep instead of lust. You met his gaze and let out a breathless laugh, feeling your limbs already beginning to ache with overuse. He slowly retreated from your body and settled beside you, his back pressed against the headboard as the comforter shielded his lower half from view. You eased into a sitting position, bringing the sheet with you. The act of modesty was unnecessary, but you did so anyway.

“You good?” He asked, face turning serious.

You nodded, the mess between your legs proof of just how good you really were.

“We gotta talk.”

His words made you stiffen. The post-coitus high now tainted.

“About what?” You asked, attempting casualness as you faced him.

“You’re gonna have a new contact from now on. Someone besides me.” He explained. His tone was succinct and to the point. He wasn’t interested in making this a discussion. And that annoyed you. Because it deserved one, whether he thought so or not.

“What does that mean?”

“Means I’m moving on to something else. Something different. So now you gotta deal with someone else.”

You shook your head, desperately wishing you now had clothes on. “I don’t understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand. It’s how it has to be.” He stated cooly, features schooled into an expression of professionalism, despite his own state of undress.

“Why?” You asked, still struggling to comprehend what he meant. Because it sounded like he was pawning you off to someone else right after he’d fucked you.

“I’m flipping my game. Nothing can be permanent. You get caught if you get comfortable.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?”

“No. You don’t.” He retorted dryly. The quickness of his reply threw you, the coldness in it obvious.

“I don’t trust anyone else.” You said, standing up and wrapping yourself in the sheet. Your thoughts were running wild, the disbelief you felt clearly written all over your face.

“I trust him. He’ll handle shit.” Rio reassured you, though it didn’t translate. He sighed and stood from the bed, searching for his underwear and pants.

Anger flared inside of you as he got dressed. He was going to drop a bomb on you and then leave? The notion made blind fury replace the satiation of sex within you.

“I barely trust you.” You threw back, watching as he buttoned his shirt. He shook his head and laughed, apparently finding your statement funny. “Why are you doing this?” You asked, trying to keep the shakiness out of your voice but failing.

He moved towards you and cradled your cheek, a gesture you were starting to loathe. He didn’t have to say anything to be condescending. The intent was clear. That familiar pit formed in your stomach as he stared at you, licking his lips.

“It’s business. This isn't personal. Don’t make it that way, yeah?”

You twisted away from his touch, gritting your teeth in irritation. “So you coming over to fuck me when you want is business?” You challenged, wrapping the sheet tighter around your chest.

“I gave you a choice.” He replied, voice raising slightly. His face hardened, his eyes narrowing and spine straightening as you fought against him.

“And what choice was that? To fuck you or die?” You questioned hotly, seeing him take a step towards you.

“You don’t make the rules. This isn’t a fucking partnership, darling. You work for me. You listen to me.” He argued, matching your aggression.

An iota of fear crept up your spine, but you ignored it. You shook your head and turned to leave, but he caught you, holding your arm with a firm grip. It wasn’t painful, but it wasn’t comfortable either.

“Don’t. Do. That.” He warned, pulling you to face him once again. He was pissed. His temper barely under control as he pinned you with an icy glare.

“Fine....” You acquiesced, jerking your arm free. “Leave me in the able hands of someone else. I’ll make sure and show them the same kind of attention I showed you.” You goaded, seeing the vein in his neck pulse.

“Why do you gotta make shit difficult?” He asked, choosing to ignore your remarks. Rio didn’t wear jealousy well and it was obvious.

“You were the one that came to me, remember? You were the one that spouted that bullshit about trust.” You threw back, uncaring of the consequences.

“That's right.” He confirmed, stepping in your direction and crowding your space. You were both practically breathing the same tension-filled air. “And you went along with it. So go along with this. If not, arrangements can be made.”

You blinked, willing the man before you to disappear. You shouldn’t be surprised that things took such a left turn. They were bound to. And Rio was nothing if not an entrepreneur first. You knew that. Didn’t mean it stung any less.

“Leave.” You demanded, not meeting his gaze.

“I’ll be in touch.” He said before he was walking past you and out of the room.

The slamming of the front door echoed throughout the house when he left and you released the breath you’d been holding. Tears welled in your eyes, but you forced them back. The relationship between you and Rio was doomed from the beginning. You were both operating on borrowed time. No matter how much he acted as if he cared, he didn’t. You were a means to an end. That was blatantly apparent now. You were to fall in line and operate under his orders. That was it. But you couldn’t do that. Not when your entire life was at stake. You’d made the mistake of trusting him and he decided to throw it all away. All the progress made...for naught.

Rio would always want his money more than you. It made no difference if you finally offered yourself up on a silver platter, promising to run off with him. He’d surely laugh and pat your cheek, amused by your offer. He’d only been telling you what you wanted to hear. And wasn’t that what you wanted anyway? Wasn’t he just enough for a good time and an even better fuck?

Yeah. He was.

So then why did it hurt so goddamn much?

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#183

“So you are the bitch I have to thank for upgrading me to this room. Well that ain’t going to happen. I don’t thank cunts like you....

“So, you live for servicing real men that are bigger than you. At least that’s what Cory was telling me when he set up this meeting. Get naked bitch. I want to see what I get to play with. Well you are a big boy. You are what 6′2″? About 300 lbs? Thought so. Well I’m 6′6″ and have twenty pounds on you. Nice chest hair. It would look better on a real man. Turn around and let me see that ass. Bend over. That’s a fuckable cunt. Stand up let me see that clitty. Hmmm. That cage you have is adequate, I guess. Your clitty is on the smaller side to begin with. At the first opportunity, a tiny one will be installed and riveted on. It needs to be a constant source of pain and discomfort. For the most part, I like what I see. Most real men like their cunts on the short side. I do not. I like transforming big beefy men into service cunts that exist to be laughed at, made fun of, pitied. While you are big, you are also fat. On real men like me, it’s acceptable. On shitheads like you, it’s wrong. Should I take ownership of you, you are going to be put on one hell of a grueling work out regime.

“That tattoo tells me you were in the Marines right? Well I was a Drill Sergeant in the Army. We both know the hell you need to go through. You will be roided up. I want to turn you into a crazed mindless beast. One of the benefits to the roids, is it shrinks your clitty. It also fucks with your head. Nothing hotter in the world than a drooling hairy gorilla with a non-existent clitty, collared on the end of a heavy chain leash.

“Oh shit here I am talking about already owning you. I haven’t even tried you out yet. That’s why we are on this seven day cruise. Take all the contents out of your clothes, room key, money, wallet, phone whatever and put them on the table. From this moment on, you are mine. You need to make sure every need I have is met. Getting me upgraded into a comfortable room is a start. You work for the cruise line? Should I claim you, that will be an easy job for you to quit.

“Now, my cock needs attention. Your pussy mouth is going to give it. Come with me to bed. Take my cock out of my shorts and start sucking. It’s a big one. I bet you weren’t expecting a nine inch fat hog for a big guy like me. Oh, don’t be surprised if I start pissing. I never warn a bitch boy when I piss into a pussy mouth. That’s it! Struggle to throat my cock. Gag away. That’s another reason why I like you big beast bitches. Your pussy mouth doesn’t cram my cock. That will make hours long blowjobs more enjoyable for me.

“Get up and squat down on my cock. I want to feel your cunt squeeze my dick. Fucking ride it. For the next seven days you are going to remain in this room. While I enjoy the cruise, you will be working on mind exercises. If you are going to be one of my gorilla slaves… Aw who am I kidding? I’m taking ownership of you right now. You are all mine. After you drain my balls in that cunt, my shock collar will be going on. You are an animal, you will need to be controlled like one.

“You need to have your mind wiped. All sense of being human is gone, replace with something primal, something instinctual. Cory was right that you need a more powerful man to transform you. You need it. I’m not even going to ask you, it is so blatantly obvious. Besides I have no desire to ever hear your voice again. I may have your vocal cords cut later on when we get to the body modification part of your transformation. Keep fucking riding my cock.

“But first I need to start wiping your mind clean. You are going to start mind exercises after I have something to eat. We’ll set up the rimseat. Something powerful happens when a cunt bitch like you is under a rimseat. You realize your place. Your tongue will worship a hairy hole that shits out waste hovering above you. Remember that it can expel some nasty nastiness into your mouth at any time. If you think about it, every time you are under that seat, you are telling yourself that you are literally lower than a piece of shit.

“Clamp down. I’m going to fucking cum. I’m gonna cum. Fuck yeah. Fuck fuck fuck. Keep riding me. Fuck yeah. Know your fucking place. You exist to serve my cock, you exist to serve my shithole, you exist to serve me. Everything else doesn’t matter. In fact, climb off me and go over to the pile of your clothes. Throw them overboard. Good.

“You didn’t even hesitate. Good. You have started transforming into what you always longed to be. I will work on severing you from the rest of your previous existence as soon as possible. You don’t need any of that to interfere with where your head needs to be. You need to be laser focused on me. Now get over here and clean off the mess you made on my cock.”

[hey-there-love]

When I Get Home

Summary: Your number 2 pro hero boyfriend surprises you after work.

Content Warning: MATURE, 18+, Slight Adult Language, fem reader, penetrating sex, fingering

WC: 1.8K

The orange and pink hues of the sunset began to sink of the horizon. There was a slight chill in the air, signaling that autumn was around the corner. You sat quietly in a patio chair, curled up in a plush blanket and sipping on a warm mug of tea. You waited patiently for your lover to float onto the balcony and laid in front of you.

You began dating the number 2 pro hero two months ago. Hawks wandered into the flower shop you worked in part time. A relaxed conversation about tulips and roses blossomed into a coffee date. You discussed minor topics, mostly dealing with work. It felt like the date mostly reared towards listening to him go on about himself, until he asked about what your goal in life was. That was all she wrote. You spent hours bonding over your shared interests, music, movies, and books. One date turned into another and pretty soon it was clear that you two were together.

Chaste kisses and snuggles turned into the best sleep over of your life last week. A sleep over you were looking forward to again soon. The first time you were intimate with him it was passionate, slow, and sweet. Tonight, you were in for something else. Hawks had been texting you all day detailing the all the things he wanted to do with you and to you when he got off work. The particular message that sent a fire to your belly instructed you not to wear anything special because it’d be ruined.

You opted to wear a pair of grey, soft cotton shorts, a long-sleeved tee, and fuzzy socks. Underwear wasn’t in the equation for tonight. The familiar chime that Hawks had set for himself sounded. You grinned and checked your phone.

Hawks: Hey kid, i’ve got some extra paperwork at the agency. Don’t hate me.

You sighed and unraveled yourself from your cocoon and made your way inside, sliding the door behind you. It wasn’t the first time Hawks canceled on you and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. It was one of the things you had to adjust to dating a hero. His job was important, and you couldn’t let that bother you.

You washed the mug and decided for something stronger. Pulling down a glass you filled it up with a sweet wine you had been saving. You took a long sip, letting the liquid settle into your body.

You pondered on what to do with your new found time. Trailing off to the bathroom you began to fill up the bathtub. You poured the thick lavender scented soap into the water and swirled it around with your hand. Setting down two towels you stripped down and descended into the water.

You took a sip of your wine and closed your eyes, feeling your muscles relax. You loved the fresh scent of florals. You especially loved the way lavender bubble bath clung to your skin and remained as you slept through the night.

Lathering a wash cloth with your favorite soap, you washed your neck tenderly before moving down your shoulders, arms and breasts. You sank your head into the water, letting it wash you completely. You laid there for a few, feeling inner peace.

When you emerged you were met with piercing, golden eyes. You jumped before realizing who it was. “Hey kid.” Hawks purred and leaned against the doorway. He still adorned his hero costume, minus his shoes and coat. You grinned and slid futher into the bubbles, feeling bashful.

“I thought you were hung up at work?” You questioned with a raised eyebrow. Hawks flashed that beautiful smile you had come to love before unbuckling his belt. Letting his pants drop to the floor with a thud.

“What can I say? I work quick under certain circumstances.” Hawks replied, slipping his socks off his feet and pulling his shirt over his head, leaving a pile on his clothes on the floor infront of him.

“You know, you should really lock your doors, someone might break in.” He teased. He located your towel cabinet and set out a few fluffy towels for himself. One for his body and one for his wings.

You laughed and responded, “The doors are locked and I live on the third floor!” You drank in his frame. Hawks wasn’t a tall man, you both stood at even stance. What he lacked in his height his wings made up for.

The scarlet plumage was his signature. Hawks took excellent care of his wings, making sure every feather settled in place. He was downright beautiful in every single way. His golden eyes shone in every shade of light. The blonde style he sported was always windswept, but surprisingly neat.

Hawks was more god like than any other man you’ve come into contact with. “Can I join you or are you going to keep eyeballing me?” He remarked, sliding the final piece of clothing down his thighs. You swallowed at the sight. Well endowed was an understatement. The last time you engaged in extra curricular activities you were sore the next day.

You shifted forward in the tub and allowed him to sit down behind you. Hawks wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled your back towards his chest, holding you tight in place. He peppered light kisses across your neck. You smiled and relaxed into him. Brushing your hand through his hair gingerly, you enjoyed the moment.

He placed another kiss to your shoulder blade and inhaled the scent. “I got you some flowers. Coincidentally they smell like you.” He whispered to your skin.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You sighed, feeling touched by the simple gesture.

Hawks ran his hands against your stomach, stopping short of your mound. He repeated the action as he began to speak, “I just wanted to make sure you felt appreciated, babe.” His left hand kneeled across your breast tenderly, twisting and pinching the bud of your nipple. “Can’t have you feeling like I forgot about the things we talked about today.”

You moaned at his touch, endulging yourself in the words he spoke. His right hand began to roam across your stomach again, this time he didn’t stop, he explored more. “So open yourself up,” Hawks crooned and spread your legs with his hand, “and let me do all the things I’ve been thinking about.”

So you did, you gave yourself to him fully. You rested against him, laying your head down in the crook of his neck. You spread your legs futher allowing easier access to your core. Hawks began to rub your clit lazily. Small jolts of electricity shot through your lower half.

You hissed as the pace began to increase. You could feel the smirk plastered on his face. He was enjoying it as much as you were. He paid your breasts equal attention. The swirls he produced on your clit were mesmerizing. He applied just the right amount of pressure that it made your toes curl.

You were in pure ecstasy by the time he dipped a finger into your core. It was just the finger tip at first, teasing and stretching your opening. Then he sank into you, making your back arch. The water sloshed around you two carelessly as you bucked your hips. “God you look so cute when your face is curled up in pleasure kid.” Hawks praised.

He tenderly added a second finger to the mix. Finding your pleasure spot, he curled his fingers up and hit the spot several times. You felt his erection grow on your back. He groaned everytime you shifted against him. Pretty soon you felt that sweet knot tightening in your stomach. “I’m close!v” You cried out and grasped onto the side of the tub for support.

“That’s it baby, cum for me.” Hawks egged on. That was all it took. You fell over the edge into pleasure. Your breathing was ragged as you tried to calm yourself down. He chuckledt and rubbed your head. “Let’s get out. I’m not finished with you yet.”

You peaked over your shoulder to glance at him. The look on his face was dead serious. You shuddered at the threat before stepping out. He wasn’t far behind you, grabbing your towel and drapped it around your shoulders. You thanked him and wrapped the other around your hair.

The two of you dried off quickly, water droplets clung to your skin. You were quite the pair giggling and running to your bedroom like a couple of teenagers. Hawks shoved you back gently onto the comforter and disrobed you.

His mouth attached to yours, this kiss was different than the sweet ones before. It was deeper and filled with more fire. This was the first time he kissed you today and you could feel the desire behind it. He pushed the towel that was wrapped around your head so he could run his hand through your damp hair.

Your hand found it’s way to his cheek to hold him close, stroking his jaw in the process. You couldn’t get enough of each other. “I need you.” You breathed against him lips. Your arousal became evident as his erection pressed against your core.

“You’ve got me.” Hawks whispered into your ear. You were completely ready by the time he slipped into you. His moans melted into yours. His thrusts were deep, hitting every sweet spot inside of you. You relished in the closeness.

His wings shuddered with delight, some tickled your arms. He was quite a sight ontop of you. The golden pools of honey bore into your soul. You felt beautiful as he praised you each time he sank into you.

The sweet love making during into something primal when he threw your legs over his shoulders, crossing his arms against them to hold them to his chest. The sounds that streamed out of your mouth weren’t cute whines anymore. He was deeper than ever before. Your breasts bounced as he pounded harder.

Hawks increased his pace, making your orgasm rush towards you. You came quickly and chanted his name like it was your favorite song. Your back arched off the mattress, leaving a strain on your thighs. It didn’t matter. You could tell he was enjoying himself by the groans escaping him.

“Such. A. Good. Girl.” Hawks said in between thrusts. “Shit. I’m almost there.” He called, squeezing your legs for dear life. The strokes became sloppy and he pulled out to paint you with his load. His cum shot everywhere, landing on your stomach and breasts. His pride was set aside as he whined and panted, relishing in his release.

He collapsed ontop of you and peppered your face in sweet kisses. “Worth the wait?” He questioned into your shoulder.”

“Definitely.”