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#and he thinks he could never deserve pleasure. until he DOES
johnnys-breastmilk · 3 days
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just curious though what johnnys punishments include?🤔 NEED to know ‘cause i know that man spanks like no other and denies us orgasms on the regular🫣possibly puts some form of chastity belt on, likely made by hitchhiker or nancy…why does a bone chastity belt sound so fashion forward😭
but i would put that man’s needs before mine always…AND HE DEFINITELY IS INTO CHOKING-🎀
the way I got this ask from you twice,, I'M SORRY!! I'm a reblog addict but my posting has gone downnnn😅
Anywho--punishment headcanons!
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I'm going to start with general acts then move on to objects.
His hands. His hands could honest be something entirely on their own because they're so multi-faceted. Spanking, choking, general roughness. All of them vary on intensity based on how much he thinks we deserve it. Part of me thinks that they would be done on the regular for fun, so the choking would leave bruises and be genuinely painful for the recipient. Same for spanking, he just goes harder, not letting himself hold back as much as he normally would. He would also not hesitate to hone in on general slapping on the face and body. Anywhere he can leave a mark.
Asking to masturbate in front of him while he's fully clothed and you're in nothing, seems like a good punishment for him.
Dare I say the silent treatment from him could be hot? His cold stare, the burning feeling you'd get from never knowing what he could do if left alone in a room with you. From dangerous to somewhat pleasurable, it's unpredictable. Just passing him during the day and wondering if he'll pin you against the nearest wall. The only thing you can read is what he exudes. To top it all off, he only speaks when he's going to say something rude or demeaning until he's no longer upset at you. Until then, it's all grunts and heaving breathing during sex, grunts for commands in his shack.
Now for objects! (Under the cut cause the bone chastity belt got a little graphic!)
Okay, so as you said, the homemade chastity belt would be the first punishment. Johnny having a significant other that isn't into biting or marking? Well, this is the next best option! Now, it depends on how brutal you want it to be. Nubbins and Nancy seem to have a common theme of barbed wire being their main use of damage in their traps, with Nubbin's using bone's collected for some extra tagging on his victim's feet. So, the "belt" part of it could be bones strung together with barbed wire, or the part that loops around the waist/hips could simply be barbed wire. One is very stiff with little snags on the skin and the other is more flexible, but will leave scars and requires the person to be very careful about their movements. This is sounding like a saw trap! The component blocking someone from having sex varies depending on what they're packing of course. For someone with a dick, I'm picturing some kind of small animal ribcage that's chipped to size and strung to the other bones. For someone with a pussy, I'd think that some long flat bone-shaped piece could go there. Maybe the piece of an antler? This sounds really illogical but I'm like 3d printing the image in my head lmao. The main point is that it's uncomfortable for the wearer and prevents sex, and any iteration of a bone chastity belt, less or more extreme than this, would work.
Obviously, I'd be remissed if I didn't mention his belt too! Him using that to achieve harder spanking against your ass, using it for choking when his hands are occupied holding your hips, tying your hands or legs together.
Kind of a weird one to add, but I headcanon that Nancy has vibrators since they've been around for a long time and she hasn't had a husband to satisfy her in ages... So, Johnny occasionally busts them out since I know he wouldn't know where to get them to use on you.
Lastly, his beer bottles! This ties into the whole silent treatment thing with Johnny, where he deprives you of his dick and instead makes you pleasure yourself with a freshly finished off glass bottle. Still slick around the rim with his saliva, so it's not too bad, but it's not him.
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hoothalcyon · 10 months
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I'm so normal over the idea of Runaan being able to experience pleasure and giving himself permission to do so
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sweet-as-an-angel · 7 months
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MW2 Reaction To You Being Their Controversially Young Girlfriend
Warnings: Implied Smut, Legal Age Gap, Age Gap Relationships, Daddy Kink, Older Man/Younger Woman, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Possessive MW2, Degradation, Mention of Corruption, Mentions of Innocence, Mentions of Naivety, Praise Kink (M Giving), Implied Choking Kink, Angry Sex, Groping, Brat Taming, Man Handling/Woman Handling, Dumbification Kink, Gentle MW2, Rough MW2, Self-Consciousness, Mentions of Blood/Injury, Insecurity, Profanity, Pet Names, Fem Pronouns Used For Reader.
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Ghost
Pretends he doesn’t care about the age gap, but he secretly does.
You’d never know it, but he worries that he’s roping you into a relationship – a long-term one at that – when you should be out, meeting guys, gaining life experience.
He also fears that, in some way, he’s corrupting you, that his selfish desire to keep you close to him will lead to you being targeted or you eventually resenting him.
It doesn’t matter how many times you tell him otherwise, he’s still going to worry about you.
There are a few ways you can put his mind at ease, though. Namely of the bedroom variety.
More on this later 👀.
He spoils you silly, absolutely rotten. Anything that catches that pretty little eye of yours and he’s already got it gift wrapped. He feels it’s the least he can do after you’ve shown  him that life isn’t just an endless cycle of suffering – an infinitum of anguish – that he does deserve happiness and a chance at love.
Very gentle during sex. Unless you ask him not to be.
Expect a lot of praise in bed.
Many a night have you found yourself pinned under Simon, his mouth to your ear as he pants, moaning, telling you how you’re “Such a good girl, taking me so well,” while he fills you with long, languid strokes.
Other times, he’s not so gentle.
Oftentimes, usually as a result of purposefully making Ghost jealous, have you been pinned against a hard surface – one of convenience rather than comfort – with Simon at your back, the tent in his pants catching you.
His voice is deep, husking and carnal as he reminds you who you belong to.
“Like having your pretty little cunt ravaged by an older man, don’t you, Love.”
He’s very protective of you.
He sometimes construes your young age as innocence, naivete. Hence, he never lets you out of his sight when you’re out together.
Scary dog privileges.
Absolutely feral, down bad for you: you only have to do or say the most minimal of things to make him melt, to become a slave to his adoration for you.
That being said, he’s paranoid that one day you’ll see him as he views himself and leave him for someone better – someone you deserve. Someone younger.
He’s damaged goods, you still have your whole life to live. And yet you stay with him, promise him that he’s the only man you’ll ever love.
As stated earlier, Simon can be persuaded of your dedication to him via special, particular means.
However, if you play into his insecurities, even to get a rise out of him, he’ll pounce on you, grab your wrists and pin you to a wall, gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him.
And, beneath dark lashes and darker eyes, he makes a promise to you.
“Oh, you think a younger lover can pleasure you like I can?” he says, his head tilting. “Don’t you worry, Darling. I’ll fuck that idea outta that pretty little head of yours until the only thing rattling around in there is me.”
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König
Somewhat insecure in your relationship. Especially when he gets disapproving glances and glares from passers-by when they note the very obvious age difference between the two of you.
But, his love for you can overcome any measure of anguish, social or otherwise.
He’s the gentlest giant you could ever hope to meet, both in and out of bed.
When he feels like it.
He treats you like you’re innocent and pure, shielding your eyes from graphic scenes on TV and gruesome stories in the newspaper.
Sometimes he has to remind himself that you’re a fully-grown woman, even if you are younger than him.
You send him absolutely feral whenever you wear his clothes btw.
Seeing as any one of his shirts could be your nightdress, he calls you his “Minnie Maus”, and treats you as such.
Pls sit on his lap, he’ll only be able to die happy once you do.
He fears judgement from others whenever you enact PDA, so to make up for his lack of willing to be physical with you in public, there isn’t a moment where you’re without him at home.
Extended periods of time in your presence tend to send him a bit…funny.
A little bit silly.
And by silly, I mean there’s a single thread of humanity keeping him from tearing your clothes off at any given second.
Especially if he’s seen a younger guy looking at you earlier in the day.
One of the few times he’ll get physical with you in public is whenever he catches someone looking at you with a glaze over their eyes he knows all too well.
He approaches you from behind, slipping a pythonic arm about your waist and pulling you into him.
Only now does your admirer look away, leave the premises entirely, once they catch sight of König’s gargantuan proportions and the rabid look in his eye.
Once you get home, he’s on you before you can even shut the door.
It’s times like these that König doesn’t feel insecure about the age gap between you.
Because he knows, no matter how little you’re willing to admit it, that nobody will ever be able to make you scream and cry and tremble like he can.
“Did you like that boy’s attention earlier, Maus?” he says, his eyes cattish and voice serpentine. He bears down on you, his hand about your throat as the other travels under your skirt.
“Is my love not enough? Are my affections wasted on you?”
His eyes glint in the dim light of the bedroom. His teeth look sharper – primal – in the low glow of the bedside lamp.
“No matter. I’ll make you remember how much you need me,” he presses into you. The bulge between his legs feels far too big for you to take.
“Inch by bloody inch.”
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Valeria
You’re her little Angel, her Goddess, the light of her life and her reason for living.
That does not exempt you from her teasing, however.
Sexual or otherwise.
She’s particularly fond of randomly grabbing your backside when she’s walking past, or smacking it so hard that you yelp and she’s grinning from ear to ear.
Even if you use your puppy-dog eyes on her, disobedience is not accepted under her roof.
In fact, trying to wriggle out of any punishment she has planned is enough to make her grab you and pin you to a wall, her grip unrelenting as she sucks and bites your neck, leaving harsh red marks and a sense of helplessness as she does what she pleases with you.
“Don’t go fucking around behind my back again, Chiquita,” she tells you, her nose touching yours and her eyes black. She brings her knee between your legs, pressing into you.
“Or next time I won’t just stop at your throat.”
She loves dressing you up in the finest clothing money (and a ghastly reputation) can buy.
She thrives on having you hanging off her arm like a dog on a leash; she gets to show you off to her subordinates and business partners who know they’ll never even have the thought of having a chance with you entertained.
Valeria’s mood can fluctuate in bed.
Sometimes, she treats you like a common whore she found on the street, fucking every ounce of rage, hate and venom into you until some part of you’s left bleeding as Valeria’s panting on top of you, her lips to your cheeks as she kisses your tears away with a whiplash-inducing gentleness she seemed incapable of minutes ago.
Most of the time, she’s loving and kind, putting your needs above her own.
Sure, she still teases you, makes you work for her love and dedication, but you know she’d do anything for you.
You can tell in her tone as she tells you of how she would “Scorch the earth if only to find a fragment of you in the wreckage.”
You disappearing or being taken from her is her biggest fear, and at night she holds you tightly against her chest, your buffer against the world she would sooner see in flames than relinquish you to.
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Price
He’s so father-coded fr.
He calls you his little girl, his Princess, Love, Darling, Dollie — anything that highlights your fragile nature.
Shows you off to his friends just so he can show them what they’re missing. He adores the feeling of you curling further into him under the eyes of his task force, the look in their eyes relating something savage, primal, as they look at your bare thighs – the pinnacle of which shadowed by John’s shirt – and watch something they can never have, never touch.
John hides his insecurity well, but he does secretly worry about the age gap.
Especially when he watches younger men looking at you in ways he does.
The difference being that, while they offered you the world and would give you nothing, you are John’s world.
When you can tell John’s feeling worried, comforting him is a surprisingly easy task.
A kiss to the temple and the promise that he’s the only man for you is usually enough to put his mind at ease and make his face break out into a smile.
On the rare occasion it isn’t, however, alternative methods are at your disposal.
E.g. screaming John’s name into the night as your nails drag down the expanse of his back, bodies scorching as he brings you to tears with his touch and his unrelenting pace.
He will absolutely hold his rank/age over you when he’s like this, no longer a point of contention or shame for him as he tells you he’s the “Only one who can make you whimper like a fuckin’ dog,”
“Such a good girl for me, my good little cocksleeve,” he rasps in your ear as he bounces you on top of him, his hands about your waist, preventing you from fleeing or falling off.
“God, you’re so beautiful — so— fuck— gorgeous.” He’s panting, gasping, growling.
“And all mine.”
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Horangi
You’re the only thing that matters to him.
At this point, he only remains as a military contractor to ensure that he can keep you in the style to which you are accustomed.
Calls you 자기야 (Jagiya – Honey, Darling).
His favourite thing to do is sit you between his legs and wrap around you like armour.
In case you couldn’t tell, he’s highly protective of you.
You can make him do absolutely anything — he’s at your beck and call.
You can get him to buy you anything if you give him what he likes to call ‘kitten eyes’ eyes.
Even if you’re being a brat, he remains calm and treats you like his little angel, his sweetpea.
Unless you push him too far.
At which point, he won’t hesitate to tame you if you try your luck.
He’ll have you bent over his lap, holding you down with his forearm as he turns your thighs and backside red-raw with the slap of his belt.
“Don’t start crying now, 자기 — you brought this on yourself.”
He never fails in the aftercare department, though.
Always filling your head with words of affirmation as he bathes you, carrying you to bed and tending to your skin with soothing creams and soft touches.
Hong-jin goes super feral crazy when you call him 오빠.
A common honorific used towards any man older than the person using it.
Even if you don’t understand the implications of it, Hong-jin does. And yes, it does tend to make him a bit silly.
Silly enough to know that he’s not going to last long and needs to get home ASAP to deal with…something.
Which he also makes your problem, pressing messy, desperate kisses to your lips as he tries to get his shirt off, your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat skyrocketing.
“I need you, (Y/N),” he says, breathless, almost growling. Yet, his eyes are wide, pleading. A doe-eyed prince with the aura of a wolf king. “And I’ll have every inch of you.”
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Alejandro
Pre-established passionate lover.
One who is fiercely protective over you.
If anyone — and I mean anyone — catcalls you, makes passes at you, or even looks at you in the wrong way, Alejandro makes sure to enact righteous fury upon them.
He’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re 110% satisfied, regardless of context.
You want a new wardrobe ? It’s done. A new car ? All yours. You need Alejandro now and it can’t wait ? Why, how can he say no when you whine like that, when you tug at his sleeve and tuck your head against his shoulder.
He calls you “mi Princesa” and makes sure everybody knows you’re his and he’s yours.
A thorough lover is how you might describe him.
Especially after he’s so willing to bend you against the nearest surface to get you off, no matter the time of day.
You can bring him to his knees with just a look. Turn him from the most respected soldier in his department into a feral wolf.
Which, if you play your cards right, can end very well for both of you.
Alejandro likes to play a game whenever you’re riding him.
He grabs you by your hips and anchors you on top of him.
“Let’s see how long you can hold on for, mi Corazón,” he says, flashing you a sultry smile before he’s bucking into you at the pace of a mechanical rodeo horse at full speed.
“Holding on” can mean anything from not being pounded off Ale’s hips to staving off your orgasm for as long as you can.
Failure to do either is when you see Alejandro at his most wicked. When he’s all teeth, a shark’s grin, his eyes dark and his voice low as he tells you that he needs to “Train your endurance. How else are you going to take me again, hm?”
Needless to say, you’ll be lucky to be able to get out of bed the next day.
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Rodolfo
His heart beats only for you. And as a result, he treats you like royalty.
As he should.
You want it ? You got it. 
In abundance.
You have the best of everything and Rudy loves nothing more than seeing your face light up when you receive one of his many gifts.
That, and having you sat on his lap, raking your fingers through his hair as he tells you about his day.
He omits the more gruesome details, fearing he’ll taint you with the blood on his hands if he doesn’t.
Speaking of lap-sitting, it’s your one-way ticket to an eventful afternoon with Rudy.
Cockwarming is his go-to, your legs wrapped about his waist as he fills out reams of paperwork, pressing kisses to your shoulder and telling you “What a good girl you’re being, mi amor,”
Be prepared for a tidal wave of praise for doing the bare minimum.
It doesn’t matter if Rudy’s topping or bottoming, he’s going to let you know how you’re making him feel, how nobody will ever ensnare him like you do.
“I love you,” he rasps, eyes half-lidded and skin glistening with sweat as you take him.
“I love you, I love you so much–” He growls, back arching into you as you catch a sensitive area. His chest is heaving and his eyes are dark.
“I’ll never let anyone else have you.”
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Graves
This guy was made to have a controversially young girlfriend.
Calls you “Babydoll”, “Babygirl”, “Little Lady”, etc.
He unironically refers to himself as “Daddy”.
E.g. “You were eyein’n up that necklace for a while, Darlin’…” His hand slips to the crotch of his jeans, rocking his bulge into his palm.
“Maybe if you ask Daddy real nicely, he’ll get it for you.”
He’s actually very caring. He’d buy you the world if it meant seeing you smile.
He never expects anything from you in return.
He just can’t pass up the opportunity to have you in his arms, to touch you.
Graves can tend to go overboard with the gifts, though.
Calls you “young thing” when he’s feeling humourous.
On the flip-side, he can (and will) use your age gap against you. Like Price, but more Southern.
He’ll be very condescending when he’s mad, tending to use terms that undermine how intelligent and capable you really are.
“If you’d just listened to me and gotten it through your tiny head that I’m doing what’s best for you, we wouldn’t be in this situation!”
On the flip-flip-side, he uses your age gap as a jumping-off point into…dubious activities.
#1 dumbification kink enjoyer.
He’s a switch with top lean, what can I say.
“Can’t do anything without me, can you, Sweetheart.” It’s not a question. His eyes are too serious, too stern, for it to be. He’s  pounding into you, hands either side of your head, caging you beneath him.
Between his panting, he presses a wet, uncoordinated kiss to your lips.
“I’ll make sure you can’t even think without me by the time I’m done with you.”
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost
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etfrin · 2 months
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— ʙʟɪꜱꜱ | ᴅᴏᴘᴘᴇʟɢᴀɴɢᴇʀ! ꜰʀᴀɴᴄɪꜱ
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✧— ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: NSFW | cunnilingus, mentions of blood, murder. tongue fucking, monster tongue. hints of overstimulation, art from Pinterest | lmk if I forgot anything
✧— ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: doppelganger Francis makes you open the door...
✧— ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 0.7k
✧— ᴀ/ɴ: please give feedback, it's been over a month since I wrote
「ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ」
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The doppelganger should have known better than to show up with ‘scarlet milk’ all over his disguise. He had taken care of the D.D.D of this building already. He just needed to convince the pretty girl behind the screen to let him and cause havoc.
He leans in, his face dangerously close to the glass and he smirks. His eyes are dark and a smirk forms on his face. “Just let me in. Does the D.D.D even treat you well? You deserve to be worshiped and I am willing to be on my knees.”
You swallow as you look at him, only a layer of glass separating you and him. There was a familiar ache between your legs from his words. You couldn't remember the last time you had time for yourself, this simple desk job consuming all your time. You tried to remind yourself that this man is a monster.
But if the monster is ready to be a slut… who are you to refuse?
You press the button that gives him access to your office. You glance at the red button, knowing that the moment you're done having fun with him. You'll have to press it.
The milkman, you know his name is Francis, walks in. He doesn't take any time to press you against the desk. The wood digging into your back.
“Pretty human,” he murmurs, his head dipping in between the space of your shoulder. His lips press a soft kiss. You gasp when you feel his sharp teeth on your skin. If he wanted to, he could tear your flesh.
You let out a breath, your heart beating against your chest. You tilt your head to give him more access to your neck. He takes advantage to lick at your salty skin with his long tongue. “Tasty,” he whispered against your ear. For a moment fear freezes you, thinking that he would eat you alive.
Instead, he gets on his knees. The loud thud makes you wince. “I'll treat you better,” he said, “Be a good girl for me.”
You nod before you can even think.
He gets under your skirt, his breath fanning your wet panties. He pressed his lips to the stain of your arousal. His tongue begins to lick you all over your clothed pussy. You put your hands on the desk, your head thrown back as you moan without shame. You feel weak on the knees. The monster has you caged even though it is your thighs around his head.
He continues to press small kisses all over, and the tip of his tongue puts pressure on your sensitive clit, making you cry out. The wet, rough texture of your panties felt so good against your bud. Then he finally decides that it's enough teasing.
He uses his fingers to pull your underwear out of the way. He chuckled when he saw your wet pussy clenching around nothing. You feel yourself getting hotter.
He eats you out without a care. His strokes are short and impatient. You begin to move your hips, grinding your cunt on his tongue. He groans. His hands are on your thighs and his grip on your flesh tightens. He raises his hands until he's cupping the cheeks of your ass. He kneads the soft flesh as he begins to use his tongue to flick at your clit until it's swollen.
Only when he's satisfied, he kisses the bud and begins to fuck his tongue into your walls. It was no easy feat, but you were so wet and it felt like his tongue was longer than normal humans. He chokes on you, his tongue making out with your tight walls. You cry out from the pleasure, knowing that you'll never feel something like this ever again.
Your eyes roll back, your pussy walls flexing on his tongue. You were so close and you knew you surely were suffocating him with the way you pressed your thighs against his head.
“Please- please-” you begin to plead, your body begging to be released. You would begin to cry if the monster denied you this. His tongue reached deeper inside of your walls than any cock did. He pressed his tongue to a soft, sensitive spot and you got dizzy from the jolts of pleasure. You see white in your vision as you begin to cum. You would have lost your balance if it weren't for him.
He milks your essence on his tongue. He makes sure there's not a single drop left when he stops. You had tears in your eyes as you looked down at him. His lips glisten with your juices. He smirked.
“Let me kill those worthless humans. There's more to that where it came from.”
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yanderenightmare · 8 months
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JJK x curse ! darling
TW: NSFW, yandere, kidnapping, captive darling, degredation
fem reader
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Can’t stop thinking about all the little vulnerable curse ! darlings that exist and how easily they fall prey to the merciless Jujutsu Sorcerers that go hunting them down for pleasure.
Geto Suguru x The Curse of Virginity
Doe-eyed, chubby-cheeked and makeup-free. She's always chewing her lip nervously. Spawned from all the sweet, silly virgins out there who're afraid of having their virginity robbed.
Though always so fucking wet for it at the same time that it’s embarrassing.
Geto got lucky and swallowed her up before anyone else could get a taste. Keeping her in his bedroom. He kisses her cheeks while fucking her into a moaning, squealing little mess every night. Making sure all her sweet little virgin fantasies are met and satisfied.
Gojo Satoru x The Curse of Beauty
A defiant little brat who thinks her beauty will enslave any and all men who dare look at her. Cold and dismissive, she never lets anyone touch her – because, in her mind, she’s a goddess no one’s worthy of having or holding.
But Gojo scoops her up and keeps her locked up in his place like a pet cat. Smiling at her awfully condescendingly when she warns him not to lay his filthy hands on her. 
She'll hiss at him, backing up with eyes going wide under the crushing realization that a pretty face stands little chance paralleled with a real force of strength. Understanding with a hitch in her throat how she better start using her looks to please rather than upset him.
Fushiguro Toji x The curse of Insecurity
The cutest little crybaby who thinks every aspect of her is unappealing and gross. She’s always trying to hide her tear-streaked face, making herself as small as she can by curling herself into a ball, hoping no one’s able to notice her. 
Toji just grins his devil-grin with her doughy thighs spread around his hips – keeping her wrists pinned above her head so she can’t do anything but whimper out small denials when he gruffs out how fucking adorable she is, thinking she can keep herself away from him.
Nanami Kento x The curse of Shame
Born from the guilt of every shameful nympho who can’t help but feel so awfully filthy after indulging in their dark desires. 
She's always naked and needy – quaking with heat and dewy from the fever of it – rubbing her thighs closed with such a sorry expression it would make any man rush to comfort her.
Nanami takes good care of her, though. The poor thing. She can’t go a single day without getting her wet little pussy pounded – always coming to him with her coy eyes and sultry whines, riding the thick muscles on his thigh with such a terribly needy pout on her lips. Begging him to make it okay, to sanction her so she needn’t feel so awfully sinful as she cums while still whimpering for his cock like a needy wonton little slut.
Zenin Naoya x The curse of misogyny
Born from all the chauvinistic self-indulgent thoughts men have of what a perfect woman should be – having resulted in the most plaint sweetest little thing – one who only feels comfortable when she's either welcoming her man home, cock-warming him during dinner or when he's rearranging her guts into the late night.
She's the happiest little bride with Naoya. Smiling nicely and humming while he lists all his troubles after coming home in a foul mood like always – she'll play with his hair until he leans into the touch with a moan, possessively tugging her closer – palming her soft skin with a pouty scowl on his face. She'll kiss his chin and tell him how grateful she is for everything he goes through, and it's exactly what he needs to hear – beginning to brush his lips over her skin, undressing her while she continues soothing him with her devotion – telling him she'd be lost without him, that he should take whatever he wants from her as a reward for working so hard, that he deserves it for being so good to her, that he's the strongest and smartest and greatest man in the whole world, and that she'll never ever want to be or do anything but serve him until the day she dies.
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dervampireprince · 10 months
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[dni minors, dni blogs that have no 18+ age listed in their bio] body worshipping astarion /// gender-neutral reader/tav
telling him that his pleasure gives you pleasure, that you enjoy making him feel good, that he doesn't ever have to do anything in return. and that's hard for him to believe, of course. but you can prove it.
you can have him laid back on the bed, stripped bare, as you kiss across his face, making him laugh if you kiss him on the tip of his nose,
"it is rather cute of you darling that you want to spoil me, but"
no buts. you tell him this is what he deserves. he deserves to be spoiled, to be held and treated as though he's something precious. because he is.
you're careful as you kiss down his neck, not knowing if the bite scar on his neck is too painful of a reminder, so you avoid it, sliding down his chest, thumbs pushing against his nipples, taking one in your mouth as he sighs, hardening against you,
"as nice as this is, there are rather more sensitive areas you could be attending too,"
you swat him gently on the thigh and tell him to be patient, though you know he isn't. that you're not trying to tease him, you're savouring him,
he'll get what he wants though, as you slink down and ask him to spread his legs, and when he slowly does you struggle to read his face, is he apprehensive? surely he can't be nervous...?
you kiss his inner thighs, daring to nibble, and when he gasps and moans you bite harder, leaving marks as you edge closer to his cock, already starting to leak, begging for attention, sliding you fingers down until they circle around the base, you look up at him as you take his cock into your mouth.
he's loud as you slide yourself up and down, he always is. he knows his voice is attractive, he knows it spurs you on, his noises, his praise,
"yes, darling, that's it, fuck, such a talented little mouth, so good for me,"
but this isn't about you, it's about him, and you want him rendered speechless, unable to use any honeyed words as he falls apart, and you'll be here holding onto him, making sure he doesn't fall too far, making sure he's put back together in the end.
he almost yelps, embarrassed at the undignified sound, as you slide your hands under his arse and pull him up, clawing at his skin, letting his cock hit the back of your throat, breathing through your nose as you gag, trying to look up at him, daring for him to see how much you'd do for him,
you pull your mouth off his cock to watch him squirm, his hips twitch, your blow cool air onto him and he whines, he whines and he seems embarrassed of it and he's beautiful,
you tell him that, and he knows, but there isn't the usual witty and vain retort, he whines again, panting, you tilt your head and smile and ask him if he wants to cum,
"of course i want to-"
he cuts himself of as you frown and start to pull your hands away. he knows what you want him to say.
"alright, i..." he catches his breath. "please."
please what?
he wants to scowl, but he wants your touch more, "please, i want to come, please."
he's back to moaning the second your mouth slides back down on his cock, whining again when you pull off, only to replace your mouth with your hand, sliding up and down his slick cock, as your mouth moves to his balls, fingers slipping against his arse, brushing between them accidentally, you think you aught to move them but the sound he makes, oh the sounds he makes,
barely thinking, just driven by the urge to have him come undone, you slip your hand under his leg and pull it up over your shoulder, gripping his thigh, mouth back on his cock as your other hand brushes against his hole again and you watch him shiver and claw at the bedding and you're emboldened and you rub your finger against his hole, never pressing inside, in time with how your head bobs up and down,
his words are gone now, he moans and gasps and you want him to let himself go, to thrust his hips up into your mouth, to relax into the bed, slide one of his hands onto your head if that's his urge, this is for him,
he tries to speak, "love, i-" and then he throws his head back, one of his hands flying to his face, you can't imagine him wanting to hide himself or his voice but then again has he ever let himself he this exposed before during sex?
you swallow around him as he comes, mouth still on him as he's oversensitive and twitching until you hear him sob,
and then you're letting his leg down gently off your shoulder, pulling yourself up to look at him, cupping his cheeks in your hands, him nodding to say he's alright, and then you're back to planting kisses over his face, telling him that he's safe, that he's beautiful, that you're honoured he trusts you with himself, stroking his hair as he comes down, falling onto your side and him clinging to you, his head against your chest as you kiss along his hair line,
"thank you," he breathes
of course
"you... well. i clearly underestimated you, again. i... i'm not sure i've ever come like that before. but before you sex was never much about my own pleasure. but that was... nice."
he coughs, composes himself,
"and well, if you ever wanted to do it again, or let me return the favour, though yes before you interrupt i understand you are trying to teach me that i don't have to repay you for anything with sex, but then i would also remind that i genuinely like having sex with you, having you at my mercy, moaning for me..."
you huff,
"yes. right. that is to say, i could be persuaded to let you have your wicked way with me again. it wasn't... unpleasant. i might have feared it could be, that being at someone else's mercy could bring about... memories or feelings. but it didn't. because it's with you. you make me feel... safe. i want to cherish that."
you kiss him again. and again. until you tell him you're not supposed to be waking yourselves up, and he pouts, but relents,
you'll clean yourselves up in a moment, for now, you enjoy him allowing himself to rest in your arms
3K notes · View notes
violet-eng · 2 months
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Fem!reader married to a Neuvillette who loves not her but someone else | NSFW 🔞 + 😢
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In this one I'm going out on a limb, because I presume without any argument other than my own intuition, that Neuvillette and Focalors had a platonic relationship with feelings never confessed out of fear or genuine ignorance of them (like Violet Evergarden, yes). But you are Neuvillette's wife and so you will fall victim to his coldness when Focalors dies.
Includes NSFW with the reader and angst. Never mistreatment because Neuvi is a gentleman. NOTHING BETWEEN FOCALORS/FURINA AND NEUVI NONONO
⚠️ Warnings: established relationship between Neuvillette and reader, implied cheating, unloving and unprotected sex, pregnancy, sex during pregnancy, mentions of masturbation. Mentions of death. More sex between spouses bc yes.
mndi, if you feel unconfortable reading this then don't. Your mental health is first.
6k words, not edited.
💧💧💧💧💙💙💙💙💙💙💙🔹️🔹️🔹️🔹️🔹️💧💧💧💧💧💙💙💙💙🔹️🔹️🔹️
You had seen him crestfallen the last few weeks, after the flood, self-conscious in his own thoughts, drowning in his remorse and cowardice.
Neuvillette does not understand human feelings, not at all, though love is supposed to be a passion that transcends the natural laws of evolution. Focalors had been his friend, his companion, in the bruised body of a puppet that felt so real that its strings seemed invisible.
There was no denying the deep affection that had grown between the two, Neuvillette and Focalors, two wandering souls, roaming the world with ancestral antiquity, companions destined to the sound of agony and separation, haunted by the solemn ignorance of innocent creatures.
Love… what was it but a word in a spoken contract.
Neuvillette had married you months ago, a happy and superficially authentic marriage. You had captured his attention, and his knowledge of humans, as the Great Chief Justice, could be satiated by knowing you, a faithful human companion, devoted wife, and sublime lover.
The bed was the only moment where you two connected, where, to the rhythm of the waves, Neuvillette penetrated his marital responsibility towards your depths, that which he considered appropriate towards his so-called wife, who, in a frenzy of pleasure, crushed his pale back with her nails, set to music by the melodious moans he tore from your sweaty breast… There was no connection beyond the sexual, for as a dragon, despite the years, it is very difficult for him to connect with humans.
Focalors was an oceanid, and he was a dragon sovereign. Both turned human. Nothing more to add, two rulers abandoned by the world they were supposed to protect, what would grow between them but pure trust and admiration that would obviously develop into love?
Neuvillette didn't understand. Not until that moment. He had been deaf to his innocent heart pounding anxiously every time Focalors entered his office in her unruly human form, rampant in color and expression. He had been unaware of the flame of satisfaction in his chest that burned hot when she spoke to him in the privacy of their conversations in the theater…he did not understand, not until he understood that he would eventually lose her.
He cried, for the first time he let someone see him cry in his human form. Focalor's words, so exquisite before him, ethereal in her ornate louvered dress, echoed in his head…and in his heart… ….
"Hydrodragon, Hydrodragon… don't cry," she whispered… and he, very reluctant to leave her, wished with all his might to leap upon her, wrap her in his arms and never let her go. He would flee with her on his lap, in his draconic form, leaving Fontaine and everyone else to their fate.
No… a Sovereign would not do that… he would not do that… for to abandon his oath would deserve the most dastardly punishment of all. And maybe, just for thinking that, he deserved what happened next.
"Farewell, Neuvillette," her words, pure in his human form. His companion, his friend, his mentor… his soul mate, tossed away like the foam on the shore of a beach.
Death was a human concept, without transcendence over evolution… love, however, was another story.
He came home like a soldier after the war, he came back without a part of himself… he came back to his boring life married to a woman he doesn't even love, at least not the way you really deserve him.
"Darling," you offer him a glass of fresh spring water from Quiaoying Village, because you know he doesn't like anything else, especially in dark times like these, a glass of the freshest, coldest water suits him wonderfully.
He drinks from the glass, almost as stoic as ever, though his face is stiffer than usual. Routine is becoming overwhelming for both of you, and Neuvillette is suspiciously distant from you, more so than usual. You stroke his cheek while he sleeps to help him fall asleep, you make him breakfast in the mornings and serve him dinner when he comes home, all without so much as a hello.
You suspect the worst, because your friends have planted the idea in your head that Neuvillette has a mistress, and not far from the truth, his heart belongs to another.
After the flood, many had left Fontaine, and perhaps your husband's mistress was among them, or so you thought. How painful it had been for you to see him break for another woman, to see him crack at his most human for a heart that was not yours.
Overwhelmed, you write him a letter with the idea of leaving him and traveling to Sumeru with one of your friends in search of a new life, but everything is cut short when your symptoms begin. Pregnancy was imminent, after all the nights the Iudex had taken you into your bed, it was to be expected.
You receive Neuvillette that night, frustrated by your own doubts, debating between informing him of your condition or simply fleeing to new horizons with your child. It is so difficult to decide when your husband is the Iudex of Fontaine… and when you care about his reputation because you love him sincerely.
There is no need to search for words when your husband is a dragon with keen senses, for as soon as he set foot in the house, he sensed the scent of his brood stirring within you. The Iudex's interest, however, lay in whether or not you would confess to him.
"A package arrived for you this afternoon," Neuvillette comments as he sips the tea you prepared for him, pointing to a bag on the front table.
"Ah, yes," you say half-heartedly, taking the bag in your hands, emotions spilling from your chest as you crumple the paper between your fingers.
You sigh deeply, thinking that maybe this gift is your way of saying goodbye to him, of silently making amends and apologizing for something that is absolutely not your fault other than falling in love with the wrong man.
You take out of the bag an encyclopedia, a thick book with thick paste and yellow pages, brought from Sumeru, recommended by the very scribe of the Academya, a book of human anthropology for your dear strange husband, who seems to have a real interest in human behavior. Neuvillette looks at it as if it were a revelation, as incredulous as he is moved, touched by your gift and your attention to his interests. You try to say something, to tell him that you are pregnant, but you stop when you hear him speak.
"I know you're expecting my child," Neuvillette says, without going into the details of how he found out, touching the rim of the teacup, a wedding gift. "Whatever you need, tell me, health, food, you know I will cover all expenses."
"I want to go to Sumeru," you confess in an almost whispered tone, your words seeming to be carried away by the wind rushing through the window.
"That wouldn't be good," for a Hydro Dragon hatchling, of course it wouldn't. "You're too young to venture into a new nation, especially one with new leaders like Sumeru, not to mention the dry climate."
You don't argue, knowing he's right, and decide to simply retreat to your room and wallow in your defeat.
Neuvillette, however, with what little empathy he has generated, caresses the book with his fingertips, gliding over the fine markings carved into the cover.
A gift, he had never given you a gift before, but you had given him a gift by taking the initiative.
The months passed quickly. The precariousness of your relationship, increasingly dry on your part, provokes something in Neuvillette.
He looks at you from his side of the bed, the way you sleep peacefully with a swollen belly, carrying his little dragon without knowing it, without trying to get rid of it, loving it from the first moment. Neuvillette has seen you singing lullabies to your child these past few months, reading him stories while caressing your belly, telling him how much you want him to be born strong and healthy.
He's grateful for the deep affection you have for your child, so much so that he has tried to show it. Maybe what he read in the book worked, or maybe it is just a product of his new feelings for his wife, who is about to become a mother. He would do anything for your son to be born healthy and with a healthy mother.
He buys you fritters on the way home, from the store he found out you like best, courtesy of some Melusine, and sits next to you at the dinner table, trying to take an interest in your day and tell you about his, always aiming for your peace, a healthy heart would bring a healthy child.
His devotion is to the birth of your child, because that's what he tells himself. It's not that he was interested in you, of course not… it's not like he was surprised when you told him your clothes were too tight and you hated your new body, not when he likes to see your new figure when you lie next to him at night, with enlarged breasts and a round belly. He bought you new clothes, yes, by the boatload, but because that's what any husband would do.
He only appreciates you for being the mother of his child, it's not like his heart fluttered when he saw you helping some melusines with their problems, or coddling some baby of your friends, thinking what a wonderful mother you will soon be. It's not like h chest filled with pride when he saw you in the stores looking for maternity books and baby clothes, worrying about the weather and your child's health.
And it's definitely not like he's masturbating in his office, remembering the image of you undressing that morning to get into the tub, cutting the skin of your arms and breasts, moaning at the contact of the warm water against your body, and letting out a sigh of deep satisfaction.
That night, he comes home with the usual everyday gift, this time a box of macaroons, because he noticed that you were looking at them in the display case with great eagerness during the afternoon. And he sits down at the table with you, pours you a cup of tea and starts the conversation, even though he notices that you are much more tired than usual.
He carries you into the bedroom and helps you into your nightgown, taking the opportunity to caress your waist and back as he helps the fabric slide over your curves. And then he strokes your head to help you fall asleep, and without realizing it, he smiles as he sees you fast asleep next to him.
The birth is approaching and the strong pains make you desperate, confined to your room and reluctant to go out even to sunbathe. It was the midwife who unscrupulously suggested to Neuvillette that a little sexual activity would help you get through the contractions. And he, as devoted to his wife's health as any good husband, agrees.
You feel Neuvillette's cock thrust deep into you, deep into your velvety walls, soft and slow, not unlike what you've felt before. His hands rest on the sides of your head, his gaze fixed on his cock disappearing inside you, while you curl your legs at the delicious sensation of his thick appendage inside your pussy. He moves cautiously, sharply, trying not to hurt you, and as he pumps inside you, his gaze is lost on your breasts, bouncing to the rhythm of his gentle thrusts.
"Perfect," he whispers through his teeth, because in his eyes you are the perfect reservoir for his brood, yes, just that… he insists that you are simply his good companion, and pretends that he hasn't wanted to have you like this for weeks, under him, a mess between moans pinned to him as you cling to his arms.
"Monsieur~" you whimper, bringing a hand to your face to cover your expression, though he takes your wrist and looks at your face as if you were a treasure just discovered by a hungry, ambitious man.
When you reach your orgasm, he kisses you, for the first time during sex, Neuvillette kisses you, and even he surprises himself with his own actions. He washes your body and dresses you before you rest, now much calmer than before, sinking into your husband's chest as you fall asleep, ignoring the feelings that surface between the two of you.
When the child is born, Neuvillette is surprised to continue his affection for you. He did not fall into the same materialism as before, because now he recognized in the shared work of the novices how difficult it was to take care of a baby. It is he who washes the child because, to your surprise, he knows the strange need for fresh water that your baby requires at least twice a day. Neuvillette enjoys the laughter that you get from your child, and the way that he lifts his arms so that you can hold him and show him how well you are feeding him, he looks strong and healthy.
One day, as he was leaving the Opera Epiclese, he was distracted by the statue of the Focalors, but his attention was immediately drawn to the babbling exclamations of his son, who was waving in your arms near the fountain. How gratifying is that moment when his heart leaps with joy as he sees you holding his child.
The days have been sunny in Fontaine since your son was born, and to Neuvillette's relief, the bitter memories of his separation from the Focalors are just that, memories… past images that he does not cherish, as he knows humans do, not now that his being is entirely devoted to his mate and his brood. What kind of elixir have you become for him, that he can forget all his sorrows and his past loves?
Neuvillette spends hours in his office poring over the pages of the book you gave him months ago, highlighting this thing called melancholy, the longing for past situations and desires, and feeling sorry for those who feel it, because if it were a disease, he would call himself cured of this melancholy.
He finds it curious how you managed to get rid of all the gloomy feelings that plagued him, and even wonders if you are not some kind of sorceress… No, not you, not when you so devotedly cleanse your child and offer him a carefully prepared dinner, and practically put your heart and soul into every act of domesticity.
Focalors… her name and image sail through the ancient memories of Neuvillette's tattered mind, the smile of a woman he loved, now replaced by that of the one who lies beside him, coddling a bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked child. Funny how in such a short time he had acquired such human habits as feeling part of a family he hadn't even planned to have.
Your relationship with Neuvillette, full of respect and admiration, help and companionship, seems to evolve into something more. You become his confidant, his mentor when he has doubts about human children or about the customs between parents and children. Involuntarily, he comes to you when he has questions, not to a library, for despite your young mortal age, you know much more than books could ever give him.
You are patient with his ignorance and loving when he is wrong. Mutual and pure respect, absolute devotion and admiration. Neuvillette doesn't believe you are human, how can you be human with so many virtues… his curiosity grows and changes, so much so that he counts the hours in court to come home and chat with you while you nurse his child.
He returns home that night with new doubts, because he has seen strange devices for children without understanding their usefulness, called fun. Can they have fun by themselves? Aren't they too young for that?…oh, and he brings a storybook, because he understands that made-up stories are interesting for babies, even if they don't understand much of the language.
He goes to the baby's room with an enthusiasm he doesn't know he has, and stops at the door when he hears you soothing your baby's cry with sweet words.
"Hydro-Dragon, Hydro-Dragon, don't cry," you murmur as you caress your child's cheek and try to feed him.
Your child is frantically breastfeeding, his tears fading as he closes his bright purple eyes, his little hands clenched into fists and his nose twitching. Neuvillette watches the whole scene from the doorway, his heart in his throat and his feelings on his skin. Those words that broke his soul so long ago now seem to put the pieces of his shattered existence back together.
He smiles, a melancholy, self-satisfied smile. And he looks at you, he looks at you with devotion, because you have finally made him understand what he feels and has felt for so many months. His devoted wife, as patient as she is charming… seems wiser and more skillful than any scholar.
Leaving your child in its cradle, you straighten your neck and turn to Neuvillette, who has entered the room.
"What a beautiful book," you murmur, picking it up, "the baby will love it.
Neuvillette watches you with one hand on the crib that protects his baby, then watches his son sleep, wrinkling his nose the way you do when you sleep.
"You must be exhausted," he whispers, stroking your arm and leading you out of the baby's room.
"Not at all," you smile, "the child fills me with vitality."
"So… Hydro Dragon," Neuvillette recalls the words you said to his baby.
"I said it when I was a girl, like everyone else in Fontaine, it was an idea that came to me suddenly," you answer, and he smiles at your expression, thinking that maybe he heard you when you were a girl, maybe you were one of the many children who recited the same words when it rained in Fontaine.
"I have to tell you something," Neuvillette says, his voice lacking authority, more like a prayer. You watch him from the kitchen.
"'Tell me.
Focalors, Neuvillette, Furina, Fontaine's hydrodragon, the flood, his never-confessed love… he tells you everything because he understands that you deserve the truth, and that he doesn't deserve you because you're too understanding of his confession. It is as if this conversation has cleared up all your doubts, and you have finally seen the real Neuvillette, who fully trusts you to know what to do with this information.
Neuvillette believes that you will ask him for a divorce and leave him alone with his son, but he is surprised to find you preparing breakfast the next morning with your child tied to your leg while you both laugh.
He does not deserve you, definitely not, for he is perhaps the most despicable man in Fontaine and all of Teyvat. To think of another while he is married, to take his wife with him in a grief that is not hers, to bind her to him forever by impregnating her… how mean he must have been, and how understanding you become as his selfishness grows.
He hugs you from behind, buries his face in your neck, inhales your scent and clings to your waist. He begs for forgiveness countless times, and you feel that he may have already shed a few tears on your shoulder, because the sky suddenly begins to cloud over.
"There's nothing to forgive," you whisper, stroking his head, "we can't choose who we fall in love with."
He looks at you in disbelief, wondering in what book he would find such an accurate statement. You had fallen in love with him, and he finally understands, for you are both victims of the disorderly course of love, so messy in its actions, indifferent to those it hurts.
He thinks about your words as he sits in his office, as he looks at the framed photograph he has of you holding his son, and wonders when he fell into the trap of the reckless love that humans call it.
The name of the Focalors does not mean anything to him anymore, even less when he sees Lady Furina in boutiques or restaurants… surely a memory has finally become just that, a memory. His heart is now the prey of another person, his wife, the mother of his son.
Neuvillette understands that there is a difference between soul mates, first love, and true love. The connection with Focalors had been imminent years ago, as both were unaware of the actions of the society in which they had become intruders, but they were nothing more than that, accomplices in a game of masks and power, the first experience of mutual affection and trust. Focalors was his soulmate, yes, because she understood firsthand everything he experienced, but being a living part of her theater did not feel authentic.
With you, however, Neuvillette had learned to be a part of his people, whether as a human or a dragon, as Chief Justice or as the father of an infant. He was no longer an intruder or a stranger ignorant of human ways, not after you. At your side, Neuvillette had known a new range of sensations, of experiences and learning based on mistakes, all very human on his part, and as expected, he had learned to fall in love again, because it was inevitable, after several problems and misunderstandings between the two of you, after the birth of his son and the new horizons that fatherhood brought. His affection for you had been disguised as admiration and redemption, his ignorance had once again avoided love, a mistake he wanted to make up for.
Sitting in your living room while he reads a book and you braid his hair and hum a lullaby, Neuvillette lets the waves of your voice carry him away, wondering what kind of marital experiences he had missed with you.
"What kind of things do husbands do?" He asks suddenly, looking up at you from the carpeted floor, surprising you with his curious question.
"Well…" you think, it's not like when he asks you why kids suck their thumbs or why people give each other presents on non-holidays. It's not a question about trivial human behavior, not this time.
"I've seen couples go out to dinner, but you told me that friends also go out to dinner," he continues, elaborating on his puzzle. "Wriothesley and I have had tea together, what would be the difference between having tea with him and with you?"
"Well…" you continue to think about your answer. "Perhaps the most obvious is living together, planning the week together, household and food expenses, child care, and confidentiality between the two. When you and I have tea, we talk about things that you probably don't mention to Wriothesley".
" Certainly," he says with a hand on his chin, "you and I do all those things, but how is that different from students who share a house? They also plan expenses and discuss confidences."
"Then I guess the biggest difference is in starting a family. Normally, people get married because they want to have a family with the person they choose, the person they love, or the person their parents impose on them."
"So sex is what differentiates married people," he says, and you remain static at his words, stopping to braid his hair, "of course… the physical and emotional affection shown by both parties in marriage…" Neuvillette rambles on, his own conclusion as he sits on the couch next to you, thinking about how he hasn't shown his affection the way he should.
He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, you are distracted by the details of your skirt, picking out rebellious threads, and then he thinks about the last time he kissed you and wonders what it would be like to kiss someone with marital affection.
"Can I kiss you?" The question is thrown out with innocence, causing surprise in you.
"You've kissed me before, Neuvillette," you say, smiling and getting up to go into the kitchen, "we even have a son, I don't think there's anything new to try."
"Indeed," he says, getting up and walking toward you, your back against one of the walls, "but the variable that makes this situation different from the others is that I didn't feel that way about you."
"Like what?" you ask, as he moves closer to you, almost cornering you against the wall.
"I like thinking about you, being with you, hearing you talk," he says, his tone low, as if he were ashamed to confess everything to you. "I thought it was a simple instinct to care for you as the mother of my child… but now I know it's something deeper than that."
You look at him in surprise, now it is you who has unknowns that only he can answer. The silence between you is cold and almost tactile.
"What about her? Of the Archon," you whisper, your breath depending on the question, Neuvillette's forehead inches from yours.
"It's not the same. There is no excitement or desire. I never longed for her or desired her like you. She didn't provoke me the way you did, it's almost annoying."
"Am I annoying? "Is that what she's telling me, Judge?" You smile as you touch the tip of his nose, trying to take some of the seriousness out of the conversation.
"You are adorably hypnotic, I must say. More than you should be. You have taken everything from me without me even realizing it, subtly and carefully taking over my mind and my heart," Neuvillette's hands caress your cheek, high above your skin, avoiding friction as if his touch would bruise your flawless complexion.
"Let me show you these human feelings that have taken over me, please," he whispers, his thumb sliding over your lower lip. He says it almost like a complaint, his bursting emotions becoming painful, trapped in his chest, longing for you to give him comfort and permission to act.
"I'll let you… only if you promise me something," you say, taking his hand, avoiding the marks of his fingers on you. "You will never push me aside for another woman again…"
His oath needs no words, not when he has you leaning against the kitchen table, his cock pushing behind you to your cervix. Your muffled moans as he adjusts your skirt over your waist and spreads your legs further to give him free access to your pussy, which sucks him contemptuously.
Neuvillette feels like a fantasy, thrusting relentlessly into you, touching the bulge that has formed in your belly from the penetration of his cock, pushing with his hand so you can feel it better, eliciting a high-pitched moan from you. . He kisses your cheek and you hear his muffled moans against your ear as he utters words of worship.
You grip the marble edge of the table, moaning at the burning building in your belly, your eyes glassy and spit falling from your mouth. It's as if your legs were lifeless, as if you were prey to Neuvillette and the way he drives his love for you so deep that it seems to stir your womb.
That afternoon he takes you in the kitchen, and the next morning he doesn't let you get out of bed, one hand on the headboard and the other around your waist, Neuvillette has you with your ass up like a dog in heat, hitting your slippery with his length. The strength that his support gives you is hard to bear, your breasts trembling strongly as your ass bounces to his rhythm, your skin moving like waves in the sea with each vibration that Neuvillette's relentless interference causes.
His hand slides down your body, caressing your breasts and down to your clit, your face buried in the pillows, almost crying at how good his fingers feel on your nervous lump. He fills you with his seed when he reaches orgasm, because he is dying to see you again with your belly swollen for his offspring. And he kisses you again, he kisses your forehead while you catch your breath, while you cover your body that has been bruised by his fingers, defining the lustful path of his digits over your body.
In his office, he remembers the past hours with fanciful lust and longs to return home to enjoy this new activity that you have made him experience, this new addiction that your body represents against his. He longs for your company and your warmth, your voice moaning with pleasure and the way your nails dig into his back. He adores everything about you, not only because you are the mother of his child, but because he finally understands, after several months of reading and reflection, that he has truly fallen in love with you, his precious human wife.
502 notes · View notes
shu-porang-porang · 3 months
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Who's Needy Now? (sequel)
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♡ You started it, what did you expect?♡ (Read the first part here.)
P.s. Honestly I feel like it's not my cup of tea, but I gave it a go, hope you like it.
Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / fem!reader
Rating: Explicit
Theme: Smut, 18+ NO MINORS.
Warnings: pure smut, unprotected sex (do not try at home!!), degradation, overstimulation, edging, not proofread
Word count: 1.2 k
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You come back after two hours. He seems exceptionally normal! He even cooked you dinner. No mentions of your little mischief. You have a hunch it’s only the calm before the storm. You’re on edge the whole night, you know he wouldn’t let go of it so easily. You wonder what he has in mind. This calm façade is probably just a part of his plan. He likes to mess with your head like this, the suspense you’re feeling makes it all the more enjoyable for him.
Finally, he tells you to go sit on the bed like a good kitty for him. He takes a seat on a chair at the foot of the bed, leaning back, his legs set apart, his lap looks so inviting but you know better than to do anything you’re not ordered to, so you resist the urge of going over and sitting on his lap. Freaking devil! He knows exactly what he’s doing to you now. You wait on your knees for his next instruction.
“Strip.” He commands firmly, his tone makes you shudder. You start removing your clothes one by one, your eyes never leaving his intense gaze, you wanna put on a brave face, like your stomach isn’t doing summersaults anticipating his next moves.
Once you’re fully naked, his next order is: “Now cum without touching yourself, you have 3 minutes.”
You hope he’s joking but his stern face and the fact that he actually starts the timer on his phone tells you otherwise.
“What the fuck, Min?”
“It’s Sir, you filthy slut! You lost the first name privileges when you walked out of that door. Hurry up, time is running out.”
Your heart is pounding loud in your ears, this side of Minho you don’t get to see much often, but when you do… You lie on your stomach, pressing your hips to the mattress in a circular motion, you discovered this little trick back when you were a teen, and it had helped you reach orgasms but you haven’t done it for so long, you’ve found much more interesting ways to come ever since. You know you’re fighting a losing battle, there’s no way you could cum by just doing this in such a short time, but you decide to give him a good show at least, maybe he’ll pity you later. You raise your hips higher than you need to, just to give him a better view of your oozing cunt, your whimpers are more audible than usual, all in service of satisfying him.
“Please… I can’t… need you Sir” you try to gain his sympathy.
“But you left me to do it on my own. Don’t you think you deserve punishment?”
“I do… but I can’t… need touch”
“Oh I’ll touch you… gonna make you wish I didn’t!” with that warning he gets up and walks over to you, meanwhile the timer goes off. He sits next you on the bed, rolls your body over and cups your soaking pussy.
“Time’s up, now take your punishment like the slut you are.” He starts rubbing your clit with lazy strokes.
“By the way, this time you’re not allowed to cum until I say so.” He presses his finger harder on your clit and circles it faster, all the while looking at your face waiting for it to contort as you near your orgasm. You try to close your legs but he forces them open and lands a slap on your throbbing core. You focus on the pain to stall your climax for a bit. His hand leaves your core to travel up and pinch a pebbled nipple.
“You almost lost it there, needy bitch! It was only the first one, take a hold of yourself.”
What does he mean by “the first one”? How many times is he gonna edge you tonight?
His hand goes back between your thighs, he gathers your slick with his index and middle finger and spreads it on your puffy clit, with each finger resting on either side of it he starts pinching it. This time, the feeling borderlines on pain and pleasure, nonetheless soon enough you’re a moaning mess, trying to suppress another orgasm. You grab his arm, trying to stop him but to no avail, it only makes him angrier.
“Don’t make me tie you up” he growls as he pinches your clit harder. You think you’re a goner this time but right before the orgasm hits you, he stops. Your body is tensed, even a breeze on your clit could make you cum, as much as you wanna cum, you fear the consequences. You just lie there with your eyes closed, waiting for the stolen climax to die down.
You feel him shifting on the bed and open your eyes to see what he’s up to next. He slots himself between your legs. You think he’s done with the games and will finally give you what you need.
“One more time” he says with his face inches away from your core. He slurps at your running juices and you bite your lip from the sensation of his tongue lapping at you. It doesn’t take long before the knot in your stomach tightens again, how could it not with his heavenly mouth sucking you like his life depends on it?
“Please… please please…. Let me come Sir” you beg as your knuckles turn white fisting the sheets. Your pleas fall on deaf ears. You can’t take it anymore. You arch your back and let go, the orgasm washes over your spent body. As soon as he realizes, he stops, you came without his permission, he’s not gonna help you ride it.
“Tsk… what do I do with you? It’s as if you want to be punished!” It’s not like you stood a chance anyway.
Without hesitation, he takes of his pants and boxers, strokes his already hard cock a few times and slams it balls deep inside you with no warning. You almost scream at the sudden stretch. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust and starts pounding into you mercilessly. Tears spill as you squirm from overstimulation. He pins your hands above your head to stop you.
“Stay still you cumdump, that’s all you’re good for since you can’t follow orders.” His words stir something inside you. His hand reaches in between your bodies and stops on your stomach, you look at where it landed and you see the bump forming there with every thrust, the sight makes your head dizzy. You feel another orgasm building up. Your head roles back and he dives down to suck purple bruises on you exposed neck. Hitting all the right spots, he makes you cum around his cock. He lets go of your wrists so you can hold onto him while he keeps chasing his own release, his pace not faltering. Finally, he reaches his orgasm, thrusting his cum deep inside you as he rides it out.
“So? Did you learn your lesson?” he says while pulling out and dropping next to you. His words float around you like you’re dreaming.
“Say it. Say you won’t leave me like that again.”
“I won’t leave you… like that… again.” You mumble not even knowing what you’re agreeing to, your mind and body too spent up to comprehend anything. You just feel him cleaning you with a towel at one point, and the next thing you realize is being wrapped in his arms with sweet kisses peppered on your face.
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mncxbe · 4 months
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𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭...
ೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: pwp, needy/pervy? men, backseat activities, creampie, pet names, not proofread
the 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲, 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 who watch you from the distance, not daring to interact with you in any way. their life is messy, dangerous– violence and death leaving no space for love. and even if he could afford such mundane affections, an angel like you would never turn their gaze on them, right?
well, that's what he thought until you hit him up. walking up behind him and tapping his shoulder with the most innocent smile plastered on your pretty face. "Hey there, stranger. You look a little lost" it's all you say, your voice barely audible over the loud music and chatter in the bar. he thinks you look prettier up close and finds himself unable to reply with any witty or flirty remark. "Not really, it's just not a place I usually go to".
'stupid idiot–' it's all he can say to himself, the fear of coming across as uninterested and pushing you away rooted deep in his bones. but his comment only makes your smile widen. you lean in and he feels his cock straining his pants when you brush your fingertips against his thigh, moving them upwards, tempting him "Then why don't we go somewhere more comfortable for both of us?"
That's how you ended up in the backseat of his car with his hand cupping your panty clad ass "Please baby take 'em off for me, will you?" he pleads and you indulge him, sliding off the lace trimmed panties to grant him access to your cunt before climbing back on his lap.
It feels good, too good, the way you grind on his hand– his fingertips shoved snugly against your sweet spot, causing moans and mewls to spill from your glossy lips as your hands find his belt, skillfully unbuckling it. his cock slides inside you easily, stretching your gummy walls and fuck– you feel just like he imagined.
it doesn't take too long for the windows to fog up– not when he's messily bucking his hips to meet your grinds, panting like he'd just run a marathon. "that's it pretty girl just keep bouncing on me ah fuck— feels too good. y'er sqeezing me so tight–" he whines between shallow breaths, completely lost in the feeling of your walls clamping down on him. he never thought a man like him would ever reach heaven but there he is, buried deep inside your pretty little cunt.
he's not used to the pleasure, really, so it doesn't take him long to reach his high. an unfamiliar warmth pools in his core, making him feel dizzy. he closes his eyes and doesn't even realize that his hands are fiercely squeezing your hips– keeping you nice and steady as he ruts inside you, his leaking tip hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. "fuck, fuck, fuck baby 'm close" he groans and it's like music to your ears.
the feeling is overwhelming, so many emotions swirling inside him all at once– it's like you dug deep inside his soul and opened Pandora's box. guilt, need, shame, bliss, adoration. if it weren't for the tears spilling from his eyes you wouldn't be aware of the effect you had on him.
you smile and gently wipe his tears away, placing little kisses on his cheeks as you cup his face with your hands, encouraging him to keep going "make yourself feel good for me, okay? you deserve it you're doing good. c'mon cum for me, handsome"
and he does— and it feels like heaven. his vision blurs as his cum spurts inside you, painting your gummy walls white. it takes him a while to regain his breath and composure, but even when his calm-and-collected mask is back on the grip on your hips doesn't falter. he keeps himself sheathed inside you as you lean against him, your combined juices leaking down to his base.
"so..." you eventually speak up, your face still buried in the crook of his neck. "you feeling better now?" he only hums for lack of a better response, kissing the crown of your head and wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you flush against his chest. he can't bring himself to tell you he's afraid to let you go, that he wants to stay like this for one more minute– to indulge himself the pleasure and comfort of normality and intimacy. because in the end he's still a stranger to you. still... things may change between you and this luxury he rarely affords could become part of his routine– if you want that too. for now he can only hope for something more and let the rough edges of his soul soften up in your embrace.
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。゚•┈୨♡୧┈•゚。𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀, 𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀, 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐎, 𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀, 𝐀𝐊𝐈, (𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫) 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐄 。゚•┈୨♡୧┈•゚。
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aphrogeneias · 8 months
Text
𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 — dirty talking
pairing: modern!rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader
warnings: male masturbation, eddie's filthy mouth (needs a warning in itself).
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He could still hear the sounds of the party going on in the room next to his.
These days, Eddie never stays too long. The novelty of hotel room after parties wore out some time between their first and second tour — as much as he enjoys getting wasted and preening under the attention of music industry insiders and the groupies they've gathered along the way, it just doesn't feel the same anymore.
It's not that he's unhappy. He's happy to see his bandmates, his friends, have the fun they deserve. He's happy to see they now get to reap the rewards of all their hard work along the years. He's just tired.
He's tired and he misses you.
The clock on his phone tells him it's past 3am, and all Eddie does is stare at the ceiling. His mind is wandering miles away, to where he's sure you're resting on your shared bed, too big for you alone, just like this hotel bed feels too big without you in it.
He groans as he squishes his cheek to the pillow, and his mind keeps wandering. He thinks of what he would do if you were here, all soft and pliant with sleep, if you were within reach.
How he would press your body against his naked one, run his hands all over it until you begged him to touch you where you needed him most, until you were writhing under him. While his imagination runs wild, his hands move on their own accord.
He's frustrated with it, grabbing his cock from where it sits hard against his lower stomach, and takes it on himself, forgetting all the gentleness he'd save to use on you. He wishes it was your hand instead of his, your mouth if he was lucky, wrapping him in soft silk and warm velvet.
Eddie's mind still wanders — he wants to call you, tell you how much he wants you, tell you about all the ways he'd wreck you if you were here, but he can't. He settles for the next best thing. With his free hand, he reaches for his phone, quickly finding your contact, and without thinking too much, presses record.
"Hi, baby. I know it's late, and you're still asleep. Didn't want to bother you in the middle of the night but… ugh, I miss you." He's trying to control his voice but it's hard when his hips are already jutting into his own hand, the other dropping his phone next to his pillows to play with his balls.
"Wish you were here. Need to fuck you so bad, baby. Need to feel you, my hand doesn't feel as good as your sweet pussy." He's whining freely now, breathing heavily as he tugs on his length a little too roughly, getting off on the sting of it. "Need t'feel it, need you on my dick, baby. Fucking taking it like you're meant to."
He's fucking himself with both hands now, knowing he won't last long. The slick sounds of his cock drenched with own precum mixed with his own mewls of pleasure fill the room, "Yeah, that's it. Take it, baby." He whispers, lost in his own fantasy, picturing himself pounding into you, pushing your legs to rest on his shoulders, feeling himself deep inside of your heated core.
"When I see you… mhm… when I see you, you're not leaving this goddamn bed. Gonna fucking ruin you, angel. Gonna ruin that sweet little pussy with my big dick, just the way you like it." A chill runs down his spine as he feels his orgasm building, his cock impossibly hard in his hand, his chest panting as he pulls on it. "Y'like that, don't you? Yeah, I know you do. My dirty fucking girl."
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He rambles as he cums, making a mess of his hands and stomach, whispering to you and to himself, "Fuck yes. Take my cum, baby. Take all of it, want you to have it. Wanna watch it drip out of you, wanna lick your pussy clean and make a mess all over again. Fuck."
He shudders as he tries to regulate his breathing, and when he does, he's reaching out for his phone again. "Miss you." He hums, "Love you."
That's all he can manage to say before he hastily turns off the recording and press send, clean himself with a pristine white sheet, and rolls over, falling asleep.
The first thing you do the next morning is listen to the minutes long voice message he left in the middle of the night. The second thing you do is call him.
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tiredfox64 · 2 months
Note
Hellooo! First of all, I love your fics, especially Tomas's. They are very entertaining and the way you write is just great ^^
This is more of a question than a request, although you can develop it further if you want.
How would the linkuei trio react to a s/o who says "I hate men... except you"
It came to me out of nowhere and I thought it was funny 🙃
There Are Exceptions
Prior notes: Hehehe I throughly enjoyed writing this. Also I forgot to say this with other people’s requests who gave me compliments but thank you so much for liking my writing! (*´∀`*)
Pairing: Lin Kuei Bros x Afab reader
Warnings ‼️: Men
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Bi-Han
These dim witted, nitwit goobers who serve your husband are too much to handle. All they know how to do is punch and kick. They have no other survival instincts that can save their asses.
It’s so tiring being the one to try to help them with whatever. A woman can only do so much.
You tried teaching them how to sew only for them to say something stupid like it’s a woman’s hobby. Forget about cooking. You have never seen someone screw up scramble eggs so much that it doesn’t even form. How the fuck does it stay watery? And why are you the only one who knows how to fold clothes? Screw steaming out their wrinkles.
Your last straw today came in the nighttime when one of the clansmen came up to you and ask the most stupidest question you have ever heard.
“Uhm, some of the men were telling me that a woman’s period was when she peels her skin every month. Is that true? Cause if it is you hide it well.” This clueless assassin…oh goodness.
You just stared blankly at the young man. It had to be a joke, right? They can’t be that stupid. Actually, you don’t want to know if they are that stupid. You walked away briskly with one thing on your mind and you had to shout it out. The moment you walk into your bedroom you slammed the door shut and screamed,
“I hate men!”
Bi-Han was already in bed, waiting for you to come around. He stared at you with that grumpy expression he always has before folding his arms in front of his chest. A low grumble was being emitted by him.
How can you say you hate men when you are married to one? One that treats you like the queen you are considered you are the grandmaster’s wife. He is also one who pleasures you till you are fully satisfied. Course, it’s more like you have to go on until he is satisfied.
“…except you.”
“Mhm, that’s right. I should be the exception here. I am the grandmaster, I deserve your full respect.” Bi-Han reminded you of his role as if he doesn’t do so every day.
“And you are also my husband,” you walked up to him and placed a kiss on his forehead, “Now would you mind spooning me for tonight.”
“After that outburst, I am unsure if you deserve it.” Now he’s just being petty.
You pouted as you changed into your sleepwear. If Bi-Han looked for at least five seconds he would have caved. But he looked away immediately to prevent himself from changing his decision. You huffed as you slipped into bed. You went on your side and pretended like you didn’t care. You did because you always lost the idgaf war.
“Please, I love you.” You said over your shoulder.
Bi-Han let out a groan before turning over and wrapping his arms around your waist. Haha you win.
You may not like men but you love this man. You like this man because he’s your man.
Kuai Liang
Why does no one think of the logical answer to something?
You go out to the market all the time so you could help feed the Shirai Ryu. It helps lessen responsibilities for your husband. But even this simple task is made difficult and stupid because of some of the venders. More specifically the men.
You asked for watermelon and they hand you plastic containers with the funkiest bits of watermelon. They are discolored and are definitely past their ripeness. Yet they all tell you it’s fine. It’s not fine! It’s not good quality! Why even cut the watermelon in the first place you can do it yourself!
You want some mangos? Well you can’t fucking have any because they don’t got it. Oh what’s that? A BUNCH OF FUCKING MANGOS RIGHT BEHIND THEM! And they tell you that those are honey mangoes you didn’t specifically ask for those. They told you no because they thought you wanted Haden mangoes. Just give the woman a fucking mango!
You’re so over those male venders. They never even help you pack the carts up.
You’re too tired went you get back to the temple. You let everyone else pack the food away without helping out this time. You can’t be bothered. You take your shoes off, step into the temple, and sigh heavily.
“I hate men.” You groaned.
You didn’t realize Kuai Liang was coming up to you to greet you. You looked up and saw his face. He stared blankly with a bit of concern.
“…except you.”
You wanted to make it right so you ran up to him, giving him many kisses and hugging him.
“What has made you so hateful, my love? Did someone at the market bother you?” He asked with concern.
Kuai Liang was not at all mad at what you said. He found it odd which meant there was something wrong. His hands went up to check if maybe it was something physical. He would hate to find out you were hurt while out. What kind of husband would he be if he can’t protect his wife?
“Many people bothered me at the market today. Some people are unfortunate stupid.” You replied.
“Perhaps you can tell me all about it in bed. I’ll make you some tea to help with the stress.” He took your hands as you both walked to the bedroom.
Kuai Liang is the kind of man you need in your life. If only the men at the market had his intelligence. Though you do like being cared for when there is any sign of distress from you. It makes you feel like a princess.
Tomas
To help train the Earthrealm champions is like trying to train a seal, a kangaroo, a bison, and a Komodo dragon to leap at least a meter out of the water. One will succeed, another will jump but not reach it, another one won’t try to jump, and the other will be too busy trying to mate with you.
They are all nice in their own way but Johnny is the worst of them all. You tell him you are happily married and it’s in one ear and out the other. Just because his marriage failed doesn’t mean yours has to.
Kenshi is alright he just has stubborn. He believes it’s nerves that wins fights. If that were true why does he keep failing to you. And when he is not going against you he’s going after Johnny’s throat. You get it, Johnny won’t give back Sento. But now is not the time to bust his ass.
Kung Lao just gets on everyone’s nerves. You have never seen a bunch of monks ready to implode and strangle someone. Don’t forget that you almost lost your head because he flung his hat in the wrong direction. All you got back was a small ‘sorry’ before he took his hat and ran off.
And Raiden…he’s fine. He’s done no wrong.
Yet no matter what you always have to return and help the fools. You give and give and what do you receive? Hell!
You are exhausted when you return home. You don’t talk to anyone you just go straight to your bedroom. You let out a groan the whole time and when the door closes you let that groan become words.
“I hate men.”
Tomas was already waiting for you in the bedroom. He was walking up to you to hug you until he heard those words. He looked concerned and even a little sad.
Well he’s a man, do you hate him? Did he do something wrong? He hopes he didn’t, he doesn’t want an unhappy wife.
Your attitude immediately went away at the sight of Tomas.
“…except you.”
You ran into his arms and hugged him tight. You could never hate a man like Tomas. He is your husband after all. You picked a good one compared to all the other men that you have seen.
“I’m guessing they upset you again.” He asked.
You nodded. The day is already over you don’t feel like talking about every single stupid thing that they did. Tomas understood and hugged you tight.
“Do you want me to beat them up?” He whispered jokingly in your ear.
For once today you laughed. He always manages to bring a smile to your face. You wish you could let him but that would be a bad decision. Though it’s funny to think about. He was just happy to hear that wonderful laugh of yours. It just shows that he’s a good man to you. He can turn a frown upside down and make you see the good in men. Or at least the good in him.
After notes: Can you tell I got pissed off with Kuai Liang’s part? That shits a little too true. Those instacart tik toks be crazy. Here’s a little experience of when I hated men: one didn’t take no for an answer for YEARS. He still can’t take no even from other girls. But most of the men I know are good. Alright enough yip yap I must march on. Adiós!
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bella-goths-wife · 5 months
Text
How the yandere bowers gang love reader
I’m just a girl trying to be deep with her writing while very sick and in her feels so please tolerate my trash 🙏
Warnings: non-con mentions but not explicit, mommy issues, daddy issues, physical abuse, psychological abuse, emotional abuse, sexual abuse, injuries, forced relationships, dead dove do not eat, yandere behaviour, obsession
I do not condone or romanticise abuse, the abuse I write about is purely to educate and entertain. Please do not romanticise the abuse that is occurring.
MDNI
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Henry bowers:
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Love is a strong word, it’s not the pure love that you’d dreamed about since you were a little girl
No, this love is deeply depraved and disgusting
He cares about you in his own way, he’d kill someone if they ever hurt you with the same hands that have carved his initials into your delicate body
But he does love you, for some inconvenience reason he does love you in his sick and twisted reason
He views you as someone who can take care of him, someone who can make his lunches and make him feel better after a bad day
He would never admit it, but he sees you as someone who could fill the void his mother left
He loved and adored his mother more than anyone else in the world and she left him, so he had no one to pour all of those feelings into until he met you
Except these feelings are increased and made more sickening
That’s one of the reasons that, unlike Patrick, he won’t force himself on you
He tried to, believe him he really tried
But all he could think about was when he saw his dad do it to his mom, and the look of pure horror on his moms face
He could definitely see himself marrying you one day, I mean, he’s the one in the group who deserves you the most after all
He’d kill the other boys if he had to, he may see them as his brothers
But you, he sees you as his wife and the person who will carry his future children
Patrick Hockstetter:
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Patrick’s love is based in lust, but isn’t entirely consumed by it
He knew he was attracted to you from the start, he probably would have tried to drag you off at a party before Henry staked his claim on you
He is mostly obsessed with the way he can control you
He, as Henry’s unofficial second hand, has the second most control over you
And he loves you for it
He can control what you eat, how you dress and how you spend your time
He can control if you breath during the times he chokes you
He blames it on his mothers death or his ‘rough childhood’ but he’s just a sociopath
Genuinely, I know I’ve been adding in what factors to them being like this for the rest but for Patrick it’s simple
He’s a sociopath
You may be wondering how a sociopath is capable of love, and well he’s not fully in love
He’s obsessed with you and some part of him cares about you, the same way he would care if his car got scratched
Your a possession, he doesn’t care about your personality or your likes and dislikes
But you intrigue and entertain him enough to get his loyalty in exchange for what you can do for him
He doesn’t feel guilt for how he and the others treat you and he doesn’t feel bad for the fact that they are completely destroying you
He’s the only one to actually recognise that what they all do to you is making you slowly break, he just does not care
As long as your not hurting yourself or others are hurting you, he does not feel the need to care about what happens to you
He doesn’t even care about the fact that he’s sexually assaulting you
He would enjoy it more if you were actively consenting but he doesn’t care that you don’t
Because for him sex isn’t about pleasure, it’s about control and when he has sex with you he’s showing you another form of his control over you
So yes, in a way Patrick does love you
But it’s the similar way he would love a pet or a shiny care, as soon as you lose your entertainment value then you’d become nothing to him
Unluckily for you, as long as the rest are interested in you you’ll never not be entertaining for Patrick
And as you can see, that’s unlikely to happen
Victor cross:
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Victors love is based in possession
He knows your Henry’s girl
Henry may share you with the rest of the group, but you belong to Henry
That’s always how it’s been in the group
Anything vic owned Henry would eventually take away from him
He views Henry as a brother, but some dark part of victor hates him
Especially when it comes to you
Victor sees how rough Henry is with his affection towards you, Victor could be so much gentler than him
Victor wants to own you, to possess you fully
He wants you to only think about him, to only speak to him, to only fuck him and to only be with him
He has fantasies of killing the others and locking you away so you can stay with him together
He chalks it up to having everything he’s over owned taken away from him by the others, but it’s more than that
He wants revenge
He sees how the others are obsessed with you and how they love you, the same way he loved all the possessions they took from him
He wants to take you away the way they took his things
And he’ll kill the others if he has too
Belch Huggins:
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Belch loves you for your approval of him
His entire life he has lacked people being proud of him
He has a dead dad and an absent mom, he wasn’t really spoiled for choice when it comes to people who appreciated him
He thought his growth at such an early age would gain him approval, but it only gained him fearful looks
But you changed that
You may not remember the insignificant comment you made but he’ll always remember it
“Wow, your pretty strong” you had commented once after he had picked you up to take you to bed “you’d be good to practice lifts with”
He felt a surge of adoration after you said that
Finally, someone decided he was worth something
You decided he was worth practicing with you, you practically decided he deserved to live in his eyes
He’ll be anything or say anything to make you approve of him
Accept for defying Henry
Henry knows best, and Henry knows when you need to be disciplined for you own good
So no matter how much you look at him with those beautiful sorrow filled eyes, he has to do what he has to do to make sure you are given the best chance at the life you need
At least, the life that Henry decided that you need
He loves you deeply and with a sense of desperation
At times he would seem like a puppy desperate for your love and attention, the other times he would seem like a threat who could kill you at any moment
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 9 months
Text
Better Man
Summary:Jason fucks up one to many times, luckily there is Eddie who is happy to pick up the pieces.
Warnings: Older Eddie x Reader. (reader is in her 20's, Eddie is thirty eight) age gap, 18 + Minors shoo! Kinda mean Eddie, then Soft Eddie. Modern fic.
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Don't copy, reuse or repost my work.
❤️
Jason was such a loser. He had been caught flirting with a few girls at the Halloween party they had attended together and you had left him.
Finally.
It had been weeks of making up, breaking up and just a plain, toxic vibe. You deserved better and wanted out.
You went to the one person who you knew would understand. Who could make it better. Who pleasured you, fulfilled you in ways that Jason could never ever do
Eddie.
He opens the door to his trailer and your stomach flips, filling with butterflies at the sight of him.
Fuck, he was so sexy.
His hair is in a messy bun, he's shirtless, wearing slacks and there's a smirk on his face.
"Hey pretty girl" his brown eyes rake over your body and you shiver in excitement.
"Hi" you're breathless with anticipation, knowing what the night entails. Knowing its Eddie you really want and not Jason dickhead Carver.
"The dickhead mess up again?" you nod and feel shy under his scrutinizing gaze. He takes a long drag of his cigarette and cocks his eyebrow.
"We're done"
"The boy can't satisfy you so you coming running to me again princess?" he tsks and you pause, unsure if he wants you here.
Maybe he has another woman over? You weren't exclusive or anything. Even though you had fallen quickly for Eddie, the two of you only started as a casual hook up.
Eddie's uncle was friends with your family, that's how you got to know Eddie. His reputation proceeded him, he was hot as fuck, had women wrapped around his finger and he knew it.
One look in his big doe brown eyes and you found it hard not to melt, you resisted. Just barely.
The thought of someone with him made your stomach ache, your heart clench.
"Do you want me to go? If you have someone with you, I don't want to interrupt" his features soften and he chuckles.
"I see that look in your eyes sweetheart, you jealous of all that shit?" you look away, shrugging and he tugs the waistband of your jeans so your close to him.
"I like when you're jealous sweet girl, gets me all fucking hot" he kisses you before you can respond and leads you to his bedroom.
❤️
Eddie has your arms pinned above your head, there's a mean, mocking smile on his face.
"So Carver couldn't satisfy you princess and you come to me" he teases as he thrusts inside you hard.
"Eddie, please, need you" You moan and he begins to move, slowly.
"You just love when my cock is buried in you huh? Such a greedy, greedy girl" he mocks as he drags his thrusts out until your a mewling mess underneath him.
He wants you to beg, you refuse to give in but the ache you feel is growing stronger.
"Eddie" you whine and he moves a little faster this time.
"Uh, uh princess. You're being so rude. I didn't hear please" he coos and you huff, desperate for release and begin to grind yourself against him, gritting out "please" as you do so.
His eyes fill with lust and he moves faster, hips snapping against yours as you both move together.
"You feel so fucking good sweetheart, tight. Mine"
The sensations going through your body is delicious and by the time you reach your climax, you're screaming into Eddie's shoulder, legs shaking from how intense the orgasm was.
Eddie soon follows, spilling into you. His hand gripping yours and an awed look on his face, he slowly pulls out and lays beside you.
You lay together for a moment before he speaks, his fingers caressing your hair.
"There's no one else princess, not for a while. Only you" it answers your question and at the same time your heart is racing as you think of the implications on what he said.
He presses a kiss to your lips and takes his sweet ass time, kissing every inch of your body as he makes his way down to the apex of your thighs.
Before you can ask about what he said your phone lights up with a call. Ugh. Jason.
Eddie's eyes darken and he glares at the phone.
"Answer it" he tells you and continues teasing near your clit. You pout.
"Do I have to? I think I gave the asshole the message earlier. I wish he'd leave me alone"
Wasn't dumping your drink on him and giving his cocky, condescending face a slap enough of a message? It certainly was a cathartic moment for you.
You answer the phone and immediately Jason is yelling and belittling you, Eddie stills when he hears Jason yelling at you.
"Will you fuck off Jason. I told you we're done for good" You snap at him losing patience.
"Tell him to talk nicer to you or I'll knock his teeth down his throat" Eddie growls and the protectiveness in his tone makes you feel all warm and fuzzy.
"Who's that? You bitch!" Jason yells and Eddie gestures for the phone, which you give to him curious at what he will say.
"Listen here dickhead. She's not interested, Infact, I'm currently between her thighs and making her scream, which is more than a limp dick fuck like you ever could"
Jason goes silent. You can almost picture that agog expression on his face.
"Eddie Munson. She's fucking you?" he squeals and Eddie smiles.
"Let's get this straight here Carver, she is my girl. I don't like to share, fuck off and stop bothering her or I will be very pissed off and have to tell you in person. Wouldn't want you to shit your pants or anything. We clear?"
Jason gulps. "Crystal" Jason hangs up and you dissolve into giggles and sit up, leaning over to kiss Eddie.
"That was kinda hot. Also I'm your girl?" you say teasing him but full of hope and he kisses you, leaving you a little breathless.
"I want to be with you sweetheart. You've gone and stolen my heart. I adore you and I'll treat you better than that Carver idiot ever could"
Thrilled you kiss him, nodding happily and his arms wrap around yours as you cuddle into him and he kisses your forehead.
718 notes · View notes
sunvmars · 10 months
Text
honeybee | s.r.
pairing: steve rogers x fem/afab!reader
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masterlist
word count: 6.9k
warnings: swearing- obv. smut & smut implications (nothing hardcore). slightly obsessive steve. occasionally innocent and shy steve rogers deserves its own warning bc…adorable. this also hasn’t been proof read
summary: after two years of knowing you, steve has learned everything about you. you became his best friend, and you, his. steve follows you around simply wanting to please you and do everything for you. finally you make the first move and steve wants to learn how to please you in other ways.
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Steven Grant Rogers craves nothing more in this world than to please you in every possible way. Can’t reach something on a high shelf? No worries, he’s there within seconds to help you. And, no, he definitely wasn’t kind of following you. Hungry but don’t feel like making something? Steve would get or make you whatever you wanted and then some- and he’d have it back to you in 30 minutes maximum. You’re sore after a long mission? He’s on it immediately. He gathers every possible muscle cooling crème or oil he can find to give you a back massage. Needless to say, Steve would do anything for you. If you wanted him to hang the moon for you he’d find a way to do it.
Steve’s had romantic feelings for you for forever. However, over the last few months he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to more venereal places. Whenever you curled up against him in your sleep during one of your recent movie nights, all he could focus on was how your backside felt pressed against his groin. While he’s massaging your aching back and legs after training, the only thing he can think of is how he wants to touch every inch of you. Just last week he took you out to get your favorite ice cream, but found himself only capable of paying attention to the way your lips curled around the spoon. He couldn’t help but notice the way your tongue flicked out to quickly lick the leftover sugary treat from your lips.
The feelings were new for Steve. He was well used to how you made his breath catch every time you’re near, but the thoughts he was having of you recently were distasteful in his opinion. No matter what he did in attempt to banish the daydreams, they wouldn’t budge.
Currently Steve was alone in his room and trying to concentrate on his drawing- originally planning to draw a lavender field for you. He knew you loved that he’d gotten back into his previously retired hobby and loved to see your smile when he hands you new artwork. He also knew you’d probably hang it up on your wall with the other pieces he made for you. Not that he’d ever vocalize it but your approval and praise keeps his world spinning. Somewhere in the middle of sketching out the background his mind had shifted.
No longer was he thinking about the beautiful flowers; he was thinking about purely you. All he can manage to think of is how many different ways there are for him to make you feel good. He’s seen things over the years and heard things from Buck that give him a rough idea of how to pleasure you, but he truly still had no clue where to start. Steve yearns for you to teach him everything about your body; he wants to learn where and how to touch you to make you feel the same need for him as he does for you.
The pit of neediness growing in his stomach is quickly replaced with frustration. Steven had felt sexual attraction before of course, but he’d never thought of a woman sexually for this long. He knew he wanted to wait until he was truly in love with someone before he had sex. Although it gives him some peace to know that intimate thoughts come with being in love, not being able to knock the constant want to touch you was aggravating. He knew you were made for him though and it made it worth every irritating thought or confusing feeling. You were his missing piece and he would save himself for you no matter how long he had to wait.
“Steven?” you called from outside the door, knocking gently.
The sudden noise startled him from his thoughts, forcing the growing neediness he felt to the back of his mind. He stood up quietly, walking towards the door after closing his sketchbook. His brain short circuited immediately after opening the door to reveal you. You were all dressed up for Stark’s party tonight and fucking hell you were a vision. The corset dress you’d chosen to wear fit your figure perfectly and the baby blue colored fabric complimented your complexion. Your hair and makeup was done perfectly in Steve’s eyes too. The smile that tugged on your lips when you saw him made his heart flip. When your eyes scanned over him, worry dully visible in your gaze at his silence, he’d tried to spit the words out.
“Y/n,” Steve whispered as he tried to find the right words. “You…you look amazing in that dress. I meant your dress is gorgeous. I’m…shit. I’m sorry,” he manages to say, stumbling over a few words causing him to stutter a bit.
The sound of your giggle eases his nerves and he musters up a smile. He quickly takes another glance over your body before gaining an unexplainable boost of confidence, “you really do look divine in that dress, Honeybee.”
“Thank you, Stevie,” you respond softly as you brush a fallen strand of hair from your face.
Your eyes rake over his body now. His white t-shirt clung to his muscular figure, showing off his biceps and toned abs. The black sweatpants he wore often now showcased an obviously growing bulge. For a second he feels his breath quicken under your gaze.
“Are you sure you don’t wanna go to the party? It might be fun, Stevie.”
A sigh escapes his parted lips and he shakes his head, “no, no. I’ll be okay here. I’m not feeling great today.”
“Anything I can do to help? What’s bothering you?”
Your head tilted as your fingers grazed his jaw gently. He tensed up momentarily at the sudden touch but relaxed almost immediately. Steve practically melted at your soft touch; a touch so caring and gentle.
“I’m alright, but thank you. It’s just a headache.”He takes your hand away from his jaw to bring it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “I hope you have fun tonight, doll.”
“I’ll try. You should get some rest. You know where to find me if you need me, hm?”
Steve releases your hand with a smile, allowing your arm to rest back by your side. You’d left once you reassured him that you’d call if you needed him.
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Steve went back to his drawing after awhile, deciding to watch a movie after finishing the piece. Unbeknownst to him, you were tiring of the party- social battery draining by the minute. That’s how, only an hour and a half after you left, you had shown up at his door again. Even in pajamas that consisted of just shorts and a tank top you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. Your hair was a little ruffled from changing out of your dress and your breathing was slower than normal.
“Are you sleepy?” Steve asks before stepping aside to let you in.
“More than sleepy- I am exhausted,” you sighed. You stepped into his bedroom and shuffled your way towards his bed. After shutting the door, he watched as you crawled into his bed to get comfortable. He smiled softly to himself before sauntering over to you.
“Can I do anything for you, Honeybee?”
“Can we watch a movie?”
“Of course. Anything for you,” he reassures you as he sits down next to you, “I’m only a few minutes into the movie I started. Do you wanna finish it with me or find something else?”
“We’ll just watch it from here.” You sighed again, now too comfortable in Steve’s presence to even worry about the movie and only wanting to curl up next to his warm body.
He lays down on the bed, allowing you to lay however you want. You’d chosen to lay your head on his chest and let his fingers play in your hair. “I appreciate you. I don’t say that enough. You’re my best friend. And you take such good care of me,” you mumbled to the blonde, his chest threatening to muffle what you said. Luckily for him, though, he had heard it.
“I… I’ll always take care of you, pretty girl,” he cooed, “do you need anything else?”
“No. You’re always doing stuff for me. I just want to relax with you.”
He’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t skip a beat at your consideration for him. Steve knew you cared for him, but it only made his heart grow fonder when you expressed it out loud. It was times like these when he felt like more than a friend- like maybe you feel the same fondness for him. But he was never great at picking up on cues with women unless they expressed their intentions directly. In fact, most of his knowledge on women came from Bucky. Buck tries to convince him that you do actually like him the same way, which was true, but Steve would not make the first move and take the chance on mistaking your friendliness for something else.
The first half of the movie seemed to drag on forever. Not because he thought it was boring, rather because the only thing he was paying attention to was your fingernails tracing his abs through his shirt. He’s about to readjust himself under his blanket to hide his growing bulge but then it happens; there’s a nude woman on the screen writhing and moaning under her male counterpart. He feels your body still, your breath comes to a stop for a few seconds, and you squirm a little under the weight of his arm due to the awkwardness of the situation.
The two of you lay there for the entirety of the scene, hoping it’ll be over soon. Realistically it only lasted about a minute, but to Steve it felt like five. It wasn’t the scene unfolding on the tv in front of him that was working him up, no, it was the unpreventable thoughts of reciprocating the actions on you. Not that he had realized like you did, but every few seconds his grip on your hair would tighten. He’d twirl a strand of hair around his fingers and mindlessly tug gently on it. Your thighs pressed together at his touch. A need for him that you tried to get rid of pooled deep down in your stomach. Soon enough the movie was over, both of you remained mostly quiet throughout the rest of the film.
“So…did you like the movie, Honeybee?”
“It was okay,” you lifted your head and smiled up at him.
Steve wishes he didn’t see the sight below him that you’d created. Your cheeks were flushed, your lips parted as you took slow breaths. You’d given him the best view of your cleavage and tempting neck with the way your head was leaned back.
“Are you okay, Stevie?”
“Yes, yeah I’m fine. Just tired, y’know,” he responded with urgency in a desperate attempt to change the subject, “hey, get up for just a second? I have something for you.”
Your head lifts from his chest and your body straightened out as you stretched your limbs. He walked over to his desk, bringing back a piece of paper that looked blank in the darkened room. After taking the paper and looking at it under the tv light, you could see that it was drawing of a beautiful lavender field with a sunset in the distance.
“Oh, Stevie, it’s beautiful,” you smile as you look up at him through your lashes, “you already know this is going on the wall.”
“T-thank you. I’m glad you like it,” he mutters as his confidence is replaced with nerves from your eyes on him.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You seem more scattered than usual. You know you can talk to me, right?”
“It’s nothing, really, I just have a lot going on in my mind. Don’t worry about me.”
“Steven. Talk to me, you’ve been off for the last few weeks. Come, sit,” you smile softly at him to help put him at ease and pat the spot next to you.
Steve plops down on the bed a few inches away from you with a huff. He was being oddly distant and seemed anxious. While he wasn’t the most confident man in the world, he was typically a polite conversationalist or at least was one to fill awkward conversation silence. But with you, even though he was comfortable around you, he couldn’t find that same confidence.
“I’ve just been having a lot of…feelings, I guess, recently.”
You cocked your head to the side, urging him to continue. He obliged.
“I’ve been having sexual thoughts and I can’t get rid of them.”
“Oh.”
The confession shocks you for a moment. He’d never really been one to talk about anything intimate or sexual with you, always blushing whenever you’d make a sexually implied joke. He wasn’t a prude, but he wasn’t outwardly sexual with you either.
“I’m sorry, is it weird to talk about that with you? I don’t want to overstep a boundary.”
“No. It’s okay, really. Whatever thoughts or feelings you’ve been having, I’m sure they’re normal. You can keep talking if you want.” The genuine smile on your face gives Steve all the comfort he needs.
“I want to understand how it works- how it feels, even. Do you think that’s normal?”
Steve looked over at you again, expression laced with hints of curiosity and confusion.
“It is. Most people feel like that; I felt it at some point too,” you confess with a shy smile.
As soon as your approval was vocalized, a wave of relief washed over his features, “can I be honest? There’s this girl, and I want to do…certain things with her. Or to her.”
Curiosity and hints of jealousy plagued your mind. “Stevie! I didn’t know you liked someone. Do I know her?”
“I, uhm,” Steve stops his sentence short as if he’s trying to find the right words. He finally gets the confidence to speak, but all he says is “it’s you.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Your eyebrows furrowed and his gaze met yours after a few seconds. He wanted to respond, to blurt out everything he feels for you. But he couldn’t; he had never been this forward with you. He stood up, starting to feel overwhelmed.
“Oh, Steven.”
“I’ve been in love with you. You’re all I think about. You’re so beautiful and sweet. You’re just so…you,” Steve confesses before pausing to glance up at you again, “Y/n, I want to do everything with you- everything for you. But all I’ve ever wanted just as much as I want you is your happiness; so, if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay, and I-“
“Steve,” you smile as you place a hand in his, “I love you too.”
It takes everything in him to stop his jaw from going slack. You loved him?
“Have you ever kissed anyone?”
“Once or twice,” he replies with furrowed brows.
“Do you wanna make it three times?”
He nodded slowly, his heart hammering out of his chest, “O-okay.”
“Don’t be nervous. Do what feels right,” you coaxed him, placing a hand on his cheek.
He took your advice and allowed his body to take over. His hands flew to your waist, fingers squeezing your sides gently as he attached his lips to yours with haste. You threw your arms around his neck and allowed a free hand to get tangled in his hair. His lips worked on yours desperately and slowly. He pulled away to catch his breath but crashed his lips against yours again only a few seconds later. You nibbled gently on his bottom lip and he pulled you closer to him, almost allowing a groan to escape his chest. His kisses grew hungrier as the realization of how badly he needed you set in.
“I want to take care of you. Will you show me how to make you feel good,” he mumbled, gasping for air against your lips. He backed you up onto the bed and held your hips down, caging you in between the soft mattress and his body.
Between his kisses and the butterflies you felt in your stomach, you couldn’t muster up a response. Instead, you chose to return the same neediness in his kisses as your way of saying yes. To have him begging you to let him learn how to please you was more than arousing. The idea was driving you crazy- he was eager to know how to make you feel good. Both of you were panting by the time he pulled away from your lips. His cheeks were tinted pink and his lips were a little swollen.
“Does it feel good if I kiss you here?” Steve inquired before placing firm, open mouth kisses on your neck. Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair and you tugged gently on his soft strands. He took the hint to continue kissing down your neck, taking note of the quiet whimpers you were attempting to hide. He’d found a spot on your neck that elicited a moan from you whenever he kissed it. “Please let me hear you again, you sound so pretty,” he purred before dipping down to lick, suck, and kiss that spot again.
You tugged a little too hard on his hair at the sudden pleasure. His hips ground down onto yours instinctively, clothed cock rubbing against your core through your shorts. Steve noticed you shutter at the contact, deciding that it felt good for you when he did that- even if it was an accident. He repeated the action harder this time, now dry humping you with the perfect amount of friction. His thrusting was motivated by your moans and whimpers, only wanting to make you feel the best he could, and you were giving him exactly what he wanted with every gasp that escaped your lips.
“Is this okay?”
“It’s perfect, Steve.”
Steve tightened his grip on your hips and leaned down to place kisses on your lips. “There’s more you can do,” you’d managed to say in between a string of whimpers and his rough kisses, causing him to stop everything he was doing.
“Like what?” The question was rushed, it seemed as if he didn’t want to go a single second without giving you pleasure.
“You can touch me down there, do you know how?”
He shook his head, telling you to continue, “here. Let me get my shorts off and I’ll show-“
“No!”
His change in tone shocked you. The look he had on his face was telling you that it shocked him too. “I’m sorry. I meant I want to undress you- if that’s okay,” he apologizes.
“That’s okay. Go ahead.”
With that he backed off the bed, standing up to pull you towards the edge of the bed. He pulled you as close to the edge as possible that still allowed your legs to rest raised up on the bed. His hands made their way up your thighs tenderly. When he reached the waistband, he paused to look up at you for permission to keep going. You nod at him with a smile and then he’s pulling your shorts off slowly.
“You’re beautiful, doll,” he cooed, helping you sit up to take your shirt off. You shrunk under his gaze, throwing your arms up to cover your chest. He frowned at this in worry that he’d made you uncomfortable. He also just wanted to see your bare form again.
“Did I do something wrong, y/n?”
“No, it’s not you. You were just…staring at me.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No, it’s not a problem. I’m just not used to it.”
“Well, can I look at you again then..please?”
He once again waits for you to give him permission before moving. You suppress a giggle and give him another reassuring nod. His hands carefully move your arms to place them back at your side as he lays your body back down.
“So pretty,” Steve mumbles against your skin, pressing kisses along your chest. His hands are all over your body. Electricity courses through your body when his lips ghost over your nipple causing you to shudder- you hope he doesn’t notice, but he does. He pauses momentarily to hover his head over your chest and look up at you through his thick lashes, “what do I do?”
Your hand guides his to rest on you breast, “whatever you want. Use your mouth or your hands or-“
He cuts you off by squeezing softly at first to see your reaction; after seeing you squirm and hearing an almost whimper leave your mouth he decides to squeeze again. He squeezes harder, kneading your breast repeatedly as he pulls your other nipple into his mouth. His assault on your chest leaves you an unbearably wet and moaning mess under him. He’s quickly become addicted to your pleasure- he wants to hear you make these noises for him as often as you’ll allow him.
“God, Steve, you’re doing so good at that.”
He tries to hide the nerves he feels at your appraisal. Against his wishes he accidentally allows a whimper to fall from his lips as he pulls away from your nipple.
“You said I could touch you,” he says as he’s rubbing you through your panties. You can feel your wetness sticking to your underwear, now painfully aware of the effect he has on you. His fingers glide over your clit, “said I could touch you here. Right?”
“S-Steve,” you whimper his name softly at his touch.
“What…uhm..how do I touch you?”
“You can use your fingers, or your mouth. Or just do whatever comes natural to you,” you say in attempts to reassure him. However it only earns you a confused look from him. “Do you need me to show you?”
Contentment washes over his face and he nods hurriedly. It’s not that he wants to frustrate you or delay your pleasure but he does want to make sure he’s doing everything right.
“You can start by rubbing softly on my clit. Do you remember the spot you brushed just a second ago?”
“Mhm, the one that made you whimper?”
“Y-yeah, that spot,” you reply softly, taken aback by his newly found confidence, “you could start at my, uhm, entrance too. You can just tease me or put your fingers inside me if I’m wet enough.”
“Wet enough?” Steve questions with furrowed brows.
“When a woman gets, you know, turned on…she gets wet down there to make it less painful during sex. Do you understand now?”
“Oh,” he smiles at you innocently, the pieces seeming to click together, “I understand.”
He moves quickly to pull your panties down your legs. You squeak at the sudden motion and lift your hips up to make it easier for him to pull the fabric off. When he’s gotten your panties off, he lays you back down. He’s got you completely naked in front of him with your legs propped up and thighs spread apart by his strong hands.
“Woah,” he mumbles under his breath- the sight and smell of you intoxicating him. His eyes land on your dripping cunt right in front of him, and, if he didn’t before, he definitely understands what you meant now.
“You are wet. So, so wet. Did I do this?” Steve’s eyes contain nothing but adoration and curiosity as he ghosts his fingertips over your swollen clit. His gaze is glued to you, watching you shiver at his gentle touches.
“Steve, please,” you plead with a voice hardly above a whisper.
“S’not gonna hurt you. You’re..wet enough?”
“Yes, yes I’m wet enough. Please, do something.”
“How do I-“
You cut him off, feeling yourself grow needier, “Steven. Like I showed you earlier. Do anything. Just, please, touch me.”
“Hm, no more questions, got it.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be firm with you.“
“I said I’ve got it,” he purred, pressing two fingers to your aching bud.
Your mewled under him as his touch sent heat to your core. Soft fingers circled your most sensitive spot. His name began to roll off your tongue repeatedly. Then his fingers slid from your entrance all the up to your clit to gather your wetness on his fingers and he eased in two fingers. He slowly stretched you out, pumping the digits in and out.
“Oh, honey, you’re so pretty,” he said in awe; the sight of you was making his heart beat out of his chest.
Steve moved his fingers in different ways while sliding them in and out of you. He’d paid special attention to the way your back arched a little and you made the most delicious sound when his fingers curled upwards inside of you. So he kept doing that, softly hitting your g-spot while gliding his fingers out of you. You pout at him when he pulled them out completely.
“Just give me a minute. Okay?”
He brought his fingers to his lips and paused before placing them in his mouth to suck them clean. A smile spread across his face, bringing his fingers down to get them wet again. He brings his coated middle and pointer finger to your lips this time and urges you to open your mouth.
“Steve,” you whine.
“You taste good, want you to know how good you taste,” he says with that same innocent smile.
Your lips part, allowing him to place his fingers on your tongue. You swirl your tongue around them and Steve bites back another whimper. He pulls his fingers from your mouth once they’re clean then leans down to place a needy kiss to your lips, tongues swirling together in your mouth. It takes all of him to pull away from you, murmuring “I have to taste more of you,” when he finally does.
He places himself so his face is only inches away from your cunt. He’s not sure why but he can smell your arousal. While your scent is intoxicating, your taste is even more so. His lips place gentle kisses up and down your slit. He drags his tongue between your folds painfully slowly, lapping your juices up with his tongue. You try to buck your hips up into his mouth but he shuts you down and holds your hips in place. A cry comes out when he starts to suck relentlessly on your clit; your back arches as much as his tight hold will allow. He’s eating your soaked pussy like he hasn’t eaten in days- like you’re his last meal. Your moans are music to his ears, he relishes in them.
“S-Steve, you’re so good at that. Fuck,” you whimper and tug at his soft hair.
He hums against your clit to let you know he heard you but all you can focus on is the vibration it sent to your sensitive bud. His tongue goes down to your opening to slide inside of effortlessly. He’s swirling his tongue inside of you, occasionally sliding it in and out. You coat his tongue with your wetness. Your moans have him desperate to hear more, so he goes harder and faster, his tongue roughly exploring your cunt.
“Shit. Fuck, Stevie, ‘m close. You’re doin’ so good,” you praise him as he continues licking and sucking.
Steve represses the urge to ask what you mean by close by choosing to slide a finger into you and suck on your clit. The tension in your stomach builds overwhelmingly fast. He increases his speed when a string of ‘Steve’ and ‘fuck’ falls mindlessly from your lips. That tension overflows as his tongue flicks your clit while he’s sucking on it. Your orgasm shakes your body but Steve doesn’t stop. After a few seconds it becomes overstimulating and you attempt to push his head away from you.
“Hold on,” he mutters, sliding his finger out. His tongue laps at your folds again causing you to squeal, the overstimulation making you giggle. “I’m sorry, you just taste so sweet. Are you okay?”
“I’m alright. You did really good.”
“Thank you..”
His eyes dart around the room nervously before landing on you. The corners of his lips turn up into a smile after he wipes his mouth dry with his hand. You return the smile as a means to comfort him and ease his nerves.
“Will you let me do something for you?”
“Oh… You don’t have to do that. I just wanted to please you,” he mumbles.
“Take your clothes off,“ you say with a smile still on your face.
He freezes for a second but then he stands to undress. You sit up as he slides his shirt and pants off, leaving his boxers for last. His thick, long cock springs up against his toned stomach when his boxers slide down his legs. It takes everything in you not to pounce on him right then.
“You wanna sit? Might be less overwhelming if you do.”
He hums his approval and sits next to you. After peppering kisses on his face and planting a few pecks to his lips, you slide off the bed and onto your knees between his legs.
“If you don’t like anything I do, tell me. I want you to be comfortable,” you say while taking his length in your hand.
The whimper that comes from him from just the smallest touch turns you on an unbelievable amount.
“Don’t think I’d dislike anything you could do to me,” Steve replies, voice almost faltering when you stroke him for the first time.
Your hand is soft and tight around his cock. He’d done this with his own hand a few times when he’d been too pent up, but it was nothing compared to when you did it. With perfect speed you pumped him in your hand. Occasionally your stroking would stop so you could glide a finger around his tip. His body shivers when you lick his shaft from the base to the tip. Then you slide as much of him as possible into your mouth; your head bobs up and down, cheeks hollowed out as you suck on him. His hand tangles in your hair and tugs gently. Steve almost comes undone when your hand strokes the bottom of his cock that wouldn’t fit in your mouth.
“O-oh my god,” he groans, the sensation almost too much for him. His hips bucked upwards in attempt to shove his cock deeper into your mouth, “y/n, baby, wait,” he stuttered.
You pull off of him quickly in worry that you’d overstimulated him. “What is it? Are you okay?”
“I’m..uhm…close. But I don’t want to be done yet,” he says with a frown, “feels too good and I want to make you finish again.”
“Don’t worry about me, sweet boy. It’s your first time.”
“But it makes me feel good to take care of you,” he cooed before taking your hand and leading you on top of him, your bare core resting on his throbbing cock.
He pulls your head down so your lips meet his in a passionate kiss. Instinctively your hips roll against his. His lips on yours, tongue fighting for dominance in your mouth, and feeling of his length rubbing against your clit was delicious. He slides between your folds, his tip occasionally teasing your entrance when you move a certain way.
“Want you, Stevie,” your whimper against his lips when he pulls away.
“You have me, sweetheart.”
That same innocent smile he’s flashed many times tonight tells you that he doesn’t understand what you meant. Steven wasn’t dumb by any means, he just wasn’t experienced; you made him nervous too.
“I know. But right now I want you inside of me, if that makes sense.”
Realization shows on his features, brows furrowing only for a moment. “It does,” he declares after a few seconds.
You smile before crawling towards the center of the bed and laying on your back. He waits for you to get comfortable before positioning himself between your legs.
“I’m not gonna hurt you?”
“It’s like earlier, remember? It won’t hurt if I’m wet enough.”
He then dips his fingers down to gently run them through your folds. Steve frowns when he feels that you’re not dripping as you were earlier, “did I do something wrong, Honey? You’re not as wet.”
“It’s nothing you did, I promise. Sometimes you don’t stay wet if you’re not being pleasured or touched.”
As dramatic as it seems, his heart drops. He wasn’t making you feel good the whole time? Did you not enjoy pleasuring him?
“I wasn’t making you feel good?”
“No! You were. It’s just that while I was going down on you, you weren’t touching me, so I just didn’t stay wet. You cleaned me up with your mouth beforehand pretty well too.”
He ponders and almost gets lost in the thought of how his tongue felt buried deep in your warm cunt. “Right. Well I’m going to take care of you every second from now on. I have to make my baby feel good.” He grins as he plants a kiss on your nose.
His tone makes you giggle, the surge of confidence not matching his delivery. “Where’d that come from?”
“It was a poor attempt to be more assertive, you seem to like that.”
You look around the room, trying to avoid his gaze. His observation wasn’t something you expected him to notice. How silly of you to think he wouldn’t notice something about you.
“You do, don’t you? Is that why you didn’t stay wet for me? You like to be handled rough and I’m too innocent for you?” Steve’s questions bore into you and you struggle to conjure up an answer. “Look at me,” he demands, fingers carefully pulling your chin to the side to make you face him, “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t say anything but my name.”
Before you can respond he rubs his tip up your warmth. He has to bite his lip when he slides into you to prevent himself from making any noise. His body stills when his cock bottoms out inside of you.
“O-oh,” he sighs softly, “y/n, fuck.”
Once he sees that you’re not hurting he begins to slowly thrust in and out of you. You feel so warm and soft on him and he has to prevent the urge to pound into you relentlessly. He thrusts into you slowly, trying to keep some sort of rhythm but faltering due to the new sensation.
“You’re so… So fuckin’ tight, shit. You feel so good around me, angel.”
After a few seconds he’s able to hold a decent pace. The tip of his cock brushes your g-spot and you bite down on his shoulder to muffle your moan.
“No,” he pulls your face away from him, “want to hear you.”
A whine falls from your parted lips. You feel him throb inside of you and Steve, once again, has to hold himself back when he feels your walls clench around him again. Now it’s become obvious that he’s holding back. His body is tense and his movements are becoming less in sync.
“Steve.”
He ignores you, continuing to fuck into you while placing kisses on your neck and shoulder.
“Steven, stop.”
His motions stop immediately and his eyes frantically scanning you for any sign of distress or pain. When he doesn’t see any, he tilts his head in confusion, “doll? Is everything okay?”
“You tell me,” you press a kiss to his lips before grinding down on him to keep him hard, eliciting a whimper from him, “you’re holding back, Steve. You don’t have to do that with me. You’re not gonna break me”
He ponders for a moment before looking at you again, “are you sure..? I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m going based off instinct but all I want to do is fuck you into this mattress and-“
Your lips attached to his, roughly moving against them, and he melts into the kiss. Slowly he begins to thrust into you again. This time his movements are rougher and harder. His hips start to buck up into you faster, pressure building in your stomach. It only takes about a minute before he’s pounding into you. His pace is unforgiving and you’re a moaning mess underneath him. Your fingernails rake his back, probably leaving bright red scratches, and his disgruntled groans and grunts are only muffled by his lips occasionally attaching to yours.
“You take me so well,” he gasps upon feeling you tighten around him yet again. Reaching a hand down to rub your clit he locks eyes with you, “s’like your tight cunt was made for me, honey.”
His tip hits that same spot again, repeatedly rubbing it. Your body jerks, your back arching off the bed.
"Want me to keep fucking you like this? Am I making you feel good now?" he taunts.
You don’t even manage to get a word out because as soon as he takes note of how to make his cock pound into your g-spot, he does it. You can feel him smirk against your neck before sucking on your collarbone. As if it was possible, his speed increases. A tight knot forms and he presses down to run his thumb over your clit. He leans down to place a rough kiss to your lips, tongue running over your bottom lip begging for entry. You allow it and your tongues tangle together in a sloppy kiss. He pulls out of you abruptly.
“Stevie,” you whine at the loss of contact.
“Get on top of me,” he demands as he lays beside you.
You look at him in confusion at his change demeanor, “but don’t you want to-“
“I wanna see all of you when you come undone on my cock, baby.”
You hesitate for a minute before obeying his wishes. Your legs straddle him, his length prodding your entrance. His hands grip your waist and guide you down onto him. The feeling of his thickness reentering you has you reeling. Steve’s mouth hangs agape momentarily when you’re sat all the way down, a deep grunt forcing it’s way out of him. He uses his grip on your waist to move you around on his shaft- you’re not sure you could’ve moved otherwise anyways.
“I love you, I love you,” he whispers repeatedly like it’s a prayer in between kisses he presses all over your chest.
“I-I love you too. You’re doing so well, making me feel s’good, Stevie,” you coo as you place a kiss to his forehead.
“I feel like..like I’m gonna…,” Steve struggles to piece the words together as you meet his hips, thrusting with him in sync.
“You can cum inside of me. It’s okay. You can let go.”
With your permission, he does just that. Spurts of his hot seed fill your swollen cunt. He throbs inside of you as he empties himself out. He feels you slow down to eventually stop riding him.
“Don’t stop, you’re gonna finish too,” he says through gritted teeth.
His first time and he’s worried about your pleasure too. He’s overworking himself through his first shared orgasm but only focuses on how he can keep making you feel good.
“Steven, stop. You don’t have to keep going.”
Before you could say anything else, he pulls your upper half towards him, careful not to mess up the rhythm at which he was fucking you. His mouth sucks one of your nipples in. His tongue swirls around it, sucking and licking the hardened peace. Then his free hand dips down to rub circles onto your sensitive clit. You whimper and tangle your fingers into his hair to pull on it. You curse under your breath at the overstimulation, feeling your orgasm approach quickly.
“Come on, baby. I know you have another in you,” he urges.
He comes back up to place a rough kiss against your lips while he pounds into you, keeping the same speed and pressure on your clit. The mix of pleasure he was giving you sends you over the edge. You ride out your high while still bouncing slowly on him as he continued to thrust. He watches your face closely so he doesn’t miss a single expression. Steve pulls out slowly but immediately when he hears your almost pained whimpers.
“That’s a good girl,” he purrs.
His hand is brushing your hair back and his lips are peppering soft pecks all over your face. He pulls you off of him to lay you down next to him. Your head rests on his chest to listen to his heartbeat. He covers both of you with a spare fluffy blanket he keeps at the end of the bed. You feel warm and comfortable, the contentment of being satisfied was setting in.
“Are you comfortable?”
You frown upon hearing his question, “I’m okay. It was your first time and I didn’t help a lot, are you okay?”
“Oh, honey,” he smiles softly, “I’m more than okay. Thank you for showing me how to make you feel good. I love you, y/n, and I really mean that.”
“I love you too, Stevie.”
“You should get some rest. I’m gonna want more of you tomorrow,” you giggle, burying your face in his neck.
He holds you close with a protective arm thrown over you. He sighs to himself in exhaustion.
“My best girl,” he mumbles into your hair, “all mine.”
The pair of you fall asleep a few minutes later. He’s got you held close to him, right where you belong. You’ve had him and now he finally got you all to himself.
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kenjakusbraincum · 6 months
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Not a request but i just wanted to share the daydreams Your sukuna fics have inspired like a clueless sourcer tries to take his pet away and sukuna let's it happen as a test of loyalty. Like he knows that this servant is suspicious. And of course being very loyal as soon as she realizes and tells sukuna that they tried to get her to leave, clinging to him, begging him to let her stay beside him 😭
He wouldn't intentionally want to test you, but now that he saw the opportunity... Where's the harm? You'll never know. Besides, he knows you wouldn't leave. He does, but hearing it from your mouth is not the same as actually seeing you make a decision to stay when faced with a choice to leave.
That servant is bold to think he doesn't know. Even bolder to believe running away is possible at all, much less with you. Okay, if it was one servant, maybe he wouldn't notice. But you? He sleeps with you almost every night. He wakes, almost in panic, when you do as little as shuffle or make a noise in your sleep. He would know you're gone.
But you are not as aware of this as he is. It starts with the little things. The servant talks to you as she washes your hair. Usually, she complains about her work, and you let her. You miss talking to people other than Sukuna, even if they're bothersome. Until one day, when she asks you what he's like when he's with you. You smirk, not immediately thinking why. Sukuna hasn't exactly trained you to be a critical thinker, on the contrary, he's dumbed you down quite a bit, to his liking. But you do still think, at least a little bit. Would he like you sharing details of your intimacy with him to others? No, hell no! You think he might just kill you. You think this is the worst way you could possibly betray him. After all, he trusts you with that vulnerability. So you tell her he treats you like he treats all of his servants. Obviously, with a little bonus of allowing you in his bed.
On another occasion, she mentions running away. Now you're conflicted. You're confident enough in your relationship with Sukuna that you know he wouldn't kill you for failing to refer that information to him. He knows of your good nature, so fundamentally different from his. He usually doesn't hold it against you. So you don't tell him, but it weighs heavy on your conscience every time you're with him. It's not the obligation, it's just that hiding things from him feels wrong. You're so used to telling him everything, all the time. Now you feel complicit. And he notices.
The situation reaches it's peak when you have a particularly bad day with Sukuna. It truly takes so little for him to hurt you, a single word is enough, much less a string of words as demeaning as the ones he spat at you that day. You cry in your room, and the servant, that vile servant! She really tried to convince you to leave now, when you're as emotionally vulnerable as you can be! She says so many things that don't ring true. That you don't deserve this, that you can be free and worry about your own needs and not someone elses...
She doesn't understand that Sukuna doesn't treat you badly. On the contrary, most of the time he treats you like royalty. And on the other hand, she doesn't understand that you wouldn't know what to do if you leave Sukuna. You're useless. Any life and survival skills you've had are long gone now that you've spent years being pampered by him every day. You're good for basically nothing, other than indulging in your little hobbies and serving, pleasuring, loving him. You would have to work, but most importantly you would be alone. Who could ever provide you with such a carefree life in the outside world? No, you don't want anyone to provide you with that life! You have it here. You don't want to leave. And every second you spend there listening to her says otherwise.
You tell her no, and when she starts insisting, you start to get up. And then she keeps going, she's following you, and you're begging her to stop because if she doesn't you'll have to tell him. And she doesn't, and now you're in tears and running from her, and barging into Sukuna's throne room unexcused. He is busy with his usual daily dose of slaughter, and he's doused in blood. But it doesn't matter because its him, and you feel safer in his arms than you would feel tucked away at the end of the world. Even if his embrace smears you in blood, and engulfs you in the scent of death.
Sukuna is usually weary of being interrupted, but he notices you're panicked, crying, and babbling nonsense. On and on about how you don't want to leave him, how you beg him to forgive you, for not having told him earlier, for not having seen it earlier. You never want to leave him, because you're the happiest when you're by his side. And then he gets it. He gets what he wanted. He picks you up so you can bury your face in his shoulder and calm down. He's not mad. ''Who upset you, my little pet?'', he asks in his softest voice, reserved only for you. ''And how shall we punish them?''
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NSFW/GN READER. idk what this is sorry if it doesn’t make sense at any point(s) i just kept pressing keys until words appeared on the screen….i need to have es E. ex with leon :P
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grrrrr i need my sweet little bf leon losing his mind the first couple of times he has sex. i’m talking about him biting his knuckles with every inch he slides in deeper, groaning low in his throat when he drops his head forward to watch the movement with wide eyes and— fuck, no more. that’s a lot. he needs to look away, somewhere- anywhere else if he wants to hold back.
his eyes travel up your body quickly, chewing on his bottom lip in desperate concentration as his gaze lands on your face. it feels as if he’s walked straight into a trap; your eyes on his, although unfocused, every open-mouthed breath, even the gentle rise and fall of your chest makes heat pool low in his stomach… he needs to cut himself short, again. he can’t catch a break, so caught up in you he’s nearly embarrassing himself. you deserve so much better, he thinks with a rough swallow. in an attempt to pull himself together, he opts to quickly shut his eyes. just for a second.
it’s always the first thrust- slow and controlled that makes him hiss through his teeth, knees going weak when he sinks back in. he has to fight to keep his eyes open now, repeating the movement with a long, shaky sigh. if you had the cognitive capability at this very moment in time, you’d be able to notice the prominent strain of his abdominals present each time he plunges into you. it’s still so new for him, yet addictive enough to have his body screaming more. a kind of pleasure that runs up his core and spreads down his thighs.
only momentarily is he aware of his grip tightening on the back of your thighs, sweaty palms and thick fingers digging into your skin acknowledged in but a passing thought. it’s getting harder, so much harder to keep his pace gentle and sweet like he believes you deserve, leaning forward and dropping a little more of his weight on top of you to plant a chaste kiss on your head in apology, eager hips meeting yours in a syrupy grind he could revel in for hours. it’s a rhythm he could get lost in and deliciously impatient with, his dick throbs at the idea. he’ll need to find another time to explore it.
knowing you’d probably kill him— maybe not kill, just a slap to his shoulder, calling out his name in a harsh complaint of embarrassment— if he confessed to taking it easy on you melts the guilt right out of his system as his body continues to perspire. the shift in angle has you crying out as he begins hitting even deeper now. seeing, hearing, and feeling you like this has an airy moan leaving his lips, shuddering against you hard in unison.
leon absolutely does not have it in him to stop now- the intensity of the ache in his pelvis growing impossibly difficult to ignore with every sloppy, wet thrust. seeing you arch underneath him with a whine, feeling your fingers encircling his wrists tightly as he pumps into you, is dizzying. he’s growling with it, the power behind his hips sending hot licks of pleasure right up your spine. god, he never wants this to end.
the state of you right now- and the sight too, he thinks, is the closest he’ll get to heaven. to feeling heaven. it makes his strong hips stutter, rhythm faltering as he begins to give in. it makes his whole body jostle above you, his eyes clenching shut with a long drawn-out whine, and it makes him cum. it makes him cum, over and over, and over again. how has he gone most of his life without this? without you? he thinks deliriously, collapsing against your thighs still lifted and folded at your chest as he ruts into you insistently a few more times, in hopes of prolonging his orgasm. greedy.
he did better this time, with holding off and all. leon’s sure of it. he definitely lasted longer than last time, right? he opens his eyes back up with a content sigh to scan your face, looking for reassurance and a confirmation on that thought. he’s immediately met with the sight of a stupid grin plastered on your face instead, lips trembling gently as if you’re biting back a hard laugh. ugh, was he that far off? he must’ve gotten ahead of himself. maybe next time.
who is he kidding? this is going to take a lot of practice.
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