#THEY ALWAYS FUCKING DO IT AGAIN HOW FUCKING DARE YOU TRY TO UNDO MY YEARS IN THERAPY

[warnersister]

“The silent treatment” Alfie Solomons x Reader

Alfie Solomons x Wife!Reader

You can’t stay mad and quiet at him forever, at least not if he can help it.

You looked Alfie in the eyes before you shook your head and turned around, walking away from your husband. “Where are you going?” You stayed silent, walking up the stairs to get yourself ready for bed. He creased his brows and followed closely behind you. “You can’t just stop an argument by not talking.” You didn’t even acknowledge him, just undoing the back to your dress and allowing it to fall to the floor; unclipping your hair from your updo and letting it fall.

Alfie felt offended: that was his job; you always let him take down your hair.

“Ziskeit, the silent treatment isn’t the way to go about this.” He told you, but you just wandered off to put your slip dress and slide into bed. Alfie was still stood in the doorway in disbelief, watching as you went on about your day as if you didn’t live with your husband of three years.

“Poppet-” click the lamp beside your bed turned off and Alfie’s jaw was on the floor, tutting at you. How dare you? He went about his own nightly routine, trying not to seem wounded by his lack of goodnight kisses and giggles as he’d tickle your neck with his beard. Eventually, he laid beside you and put an arm around your waist but it was shrugged off. “Look treacle I don’t care how fucked off you are with me, right. But I should be able to sleep comfortably with my wife.” He said, gruffly into your ear; moving again to replace his hand.

Again, you’d pushed it off. “Fucking unbelievable. Cant touch my own wife.” He’s grumbled, turning over and crossing his arms to try to force himself to sleep angrily when all he really wanted was your embrace on a cold night.

The next morning, he’d woken up to you doing your hair at the vanity he’d bought you for your last birthday. He’d walked over and pecked your cheek. “Morning ziskeit” he said and you said nothing, didn’t even look at him. He sighed exasperatedly. “Still doing that are we.”

He put his hands on the back of your chair and leant down to look at you in the mirror. “Real mature of you this, poppet.” He told you, taking the hair in the pony tail and wrapping it around his hand. “Knew I’d married a younger woman when we said our vows but didn’t realise I’d married a little girl.” He tugged the hair sharply. “Perhaps you need daddy to reeducate you, hmm?” You looked back at him in the mirror and shivered, and for a moment he’d thought he’d won. You just picked up the nice little expensive perfume bottle he’d bought you and sprayed it twice on your neck, getting him straight in the face. He just huffed and let you be. You couldn’t continue this forever.

He trudged down the stairs and went to make you both some breakfast, simultaneously tightening jars and putting cans higher than he knew you could reach, placing a plate in front of you when you’d arrived downstairs. But before you could even look at it, Alfie had wagged his finger at you. “Only girls who use their manners get fed.” He said and you narrowed your eyes. He took your chin in a hand and hummed at you as though speaking with a disobedient child. “Hmm? So? You going to ask politely, ziskeit?” You clenched your jaw and swatted the hand away once more, standing to go feed Cyril.

It went on similarly for the rest of the day, you trying to open things, to no avail - just for your husband to swoop in like some saviour and offer to do it “if you just say please” to which you’d throw the jar in the bin. Or when you’d stretch go grab something high up, even trying to climb on the counter, feeling hands on your waist “I’ll give you a hand, just have to ask, treacle.” And you’d jump down.

And it was like Groundhog Day as he found himself in the same position he was in yesterday. “Please loves, just need to hear your voice I’m sorry.” He’d pleaded, watching you undress ready for bed. “Right-” he’d grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, barely any garments covering your dignity. He gently dropped you on the bed and settled himself between your legs, ripping your undergarments off as he looked up at you “let’s see how long you can stay fucking quiet”

#masterlist #xreader #smut #fluff #warner sister #angst #requests #x you #Peaky blinders #Alfie #solomons #alfie solomons #Alfie x reader #Alfie x you #Alfie x yn #Alfie Solomons x reader #Alfie solomons x you #Alfie solomons x yn #imagine #headcannon #peaky blinders imagine #Thomas Shelby #Tommy Shelby #Arthur Shelby #John Shelby #Isaiah Jesus #Michael gray #Polly gray #Finn Shelby #Shelby

[rafesgoldrings]

Okay so we got jealous Rafe…but what about jealous trophy wife reader. Let’s say an older woman, one Rafe’s age, starts stopping by the office because she’s thinking about doing business with him. She starts getting a little too friendly with him and it makes reader a little upset since she’s so much younger. One day the woman and Rafe go into his office for a private meeting and reader goes in and drops to her knees and starts sucking Rafe off so the lady gets the hint

OH MY GOD?? The gasp I just gusped (I also hit the text limit writing this and if that doesn’t say anything about the obsession I have with trophy wife reader and Rafe, I don’t know what will😭)

 You didn’t like her. Didn’t even have to speak to her to know that she was an insufferable cunt who was up to no good, the way she stared you down with that irritating smirk and gave Rafe fuck me eyes told you what you needed to know. Part of you was already insecure enough being with Rafe, he was older, smarter, and a hell of a lot more successful and experienced than you, now this stupid older woman, closer in both his age and success, was here making moves on him. You had no doubt he loves you for who you are, despite the age gap and success level differences, but that didn’t stop you from seeing red each time they spoke. You really did try to keep yourself collected in order for him to secure this business deal, he’d told you how important it was to the company and you weren’t trying to fuck that up for him. But when she walked into his office alone, him following shortly after, that was your final straw. You’d stormed towards his door, red bottoms that your husband bought you echoing prominently in the room, before opening it and storming inside not bothering to close the door behind you. “Baby? What are you doing here?” Rafe asked with a nervous chuckle, he was so close to securing the deal and getting rid of the woman before you’d stormed in. The man wasn’t an idiot, in all his years of being alive and working in the business he’d seen women just like her. The ones that would flirt and sleep their way into a deal, that’s why he’d always reject her and remind her he was a happily married man, it just didn’t deter her at all. You said nothing to him, just walked over in front of him and sank to your knees, unbuckling his belt and undoing his business slacks before pulling his cock out and stroking it with your hand. You’d made it a point to exaggerate your wedding ring, all the diamonds shining brightly against the fluorescent lights above you. His hips would buck into your hand and you sent her a smirk from across the desk. A big look of ‘see how he responds to me. he’s mine, fucking back off’ loving the look of unease she gave you. Her jaw slightly clenched and breathing becoming increasingly more rapid as she grew more irritated. His hand instinctively flew to your hair and pulled it in a makeshift ponytail, moving your head so your mouth was lined up with his cock. You’d stick your tongue out and place it flat against his tip, slowly pushing more in until his cock was hitting the back of your throat before wrapping your lips around it and sucking. The small whimpers he was making mixed with the feeling of being watched made you more eager to keep going, hands moving to play with his balls and moaning around his cock like he loved you doing. Your fellow employees could easily see and hear everything, but nobody would say a word. You could have them fired within seconds if they dared, and they wouldn’t say a word to their boss knowing he could make their life hell, so they opted to mind their own business. The woman cleared her throat, alerting Rafe to her presence again, and raised her brows like she expected him to tell you to stop. To her surprise, he just mumbled a quick ‘sorry, where were we?’ you still on your knees sucking him off under the desk. Each time she’d speak to him, you sucked harder, squeezed his balls harder, so he’d let out a loud groan of your name and remind her of her place. The deal would quickly come to a close right as he came. Thick ropes of cum coating your tongue and throat, you kept sucking him dry. It wasn’t until he physically pulled you off that you stopped, turning your head to the side just in time to see her walk out of his office and shout “thanks for doing business with my husband! next time keep yourself in line yeah?” the taste of him still fresh on your tongue. He’d pull you up by your throat into a sloppy kiss. “That was so fucking hot baby, want to fuck you on my desk” he’d mumble on your lips, striding over to the door to close and lock it before returning to you, bending you in half over the desk and pushing your skirt up so that he could have his way with you

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #trophy wife! reader x rafe #asks <3

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

Combat I’m ready for combat I say I don’t want that, but what if I do? ‘Cause cruelty wins in the movies I’ve got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you

Easy they come Easy they go I jump from the train I ride off alone I never grow up It’s getting so old Help me hold onto you

I’ve been the archer I’ve been the prey Who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay?

Dark side I search for your dark side But what if I’m alright, right, right, right here? And I cut off my nose just to spite my face Then I hate my reflection for years and years

I wake in the night I pace like a ghost The room is on fire Invisible smoke And all of my heroes die all alone Help me hold onto you

I’ve been the archer I’ve been the prey Screaming, “who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay?”

‘Cause they see right through me They see right through me They see right through me They see right through Can you see right through me? They see right through They see right through me I see right through me I see right through me

All the king’s horses All the king’s men Couldn’t put me together again ‘Cause all of my enemies started out friends Help me hold onto you

I’ve been the archer I’ve been the prey Who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay? Who could stay? You could stay

Combat I’m ready for combat

***

It's not like Yasmine wanted the drama on the beach.

She doesn't do drama. She's above that juvenile bullshit. And in truth, no one would dare to start anything with her, anyways.

All it ends up being is a pain in her ass, leaving her scoffing and rolling her eyes as she patiently waits out a battle her opponent will lose. The status quo will right itself, the kids on the bottom of the social ladder will learn their fucking place. Again.

But she doesn't get joy from butting heads with so many people. Honest. Even if she does always come out victorious. Even if her power is reaffirmed after she kicks down some idiot who thought they could challenge a queen. It's not like she goes looking for fights.

Okay, so maybe she does. A little bit, if it's the kind she can win.

It isn't as though the world has taught her a better way to approach things. She's seen the mean girls on TV, ruling their high schools with untouchable grace and unraveling the lives of any contenders vying for their throne. Their ammo was rumors and cruel words and systematic ways of tearing people down enough that they didn't have any fight left to challenge you.

This is the San Fernando Valley, after all. They're not some barbarians, and you can't just stab anyone who pisses you off. In a world where assault can get you expelled, the next best thing is mental and emotional warfare. A skill that Yasmine isn't afraid to admit she excels at.

The problem is that the verbal brutality that always sends TV nerds crying is not enough to take down Aisha Robinson.

And then the bitch's hand is down her shorts and the space in between her legs is burning and everything ends in a heartbeat.

*

It's amazing, really, how many times she's rewritten that phone call.

The real thing was over in a few minutes. A quick, succinct attack, ripping Moon to pieces in just a few sentences.

There were better ways to say it, of course. There were also worse ways.

Sometimes when she types the replacements up, they're angry. Pages long, every barb and insult and exploited insecurity that she'd forgotten to say. Everything wrong with Moon and everything Yasmine hated about her, laid bare and unabridged.

Other times, the replacements are sad. Apologies, pleas for forgiveness. A voice so plaintive it's almost pathetic, trying to find some way to help Moon understand everything she can't say. Some way to help Moon undo the tangled knot of Yasmine's feelings, as stubborn and unyielding as a bad hair snag.

Because she wants someone to try and understand. She wants someone to bridge the gap between who she is and who everyone wants her to be.

And Moon is the only one who gets how different those two people are. Moon is the only one who's okay with that.

Perhaps if Moon came back, Yasmine wouldn't always feel like she was stumbling along the edge of some yawning abyss, hurricane-level winds challenging her every effort to stay upright. Or perhaps if Moon came back, Yasmine would become an afterthought to Moon's starry-eyed stares at people leagues below the both of them.

Both versions end up typed out in their texting history, and then deleted. The thread hasn't been active since Yasmine's birthday.

***

It's amazing, really, how effortlessly people leave her.

Gaining those followers was almost as easy. All she had to do was walk with poise and keep her lips twisted in a condescending sneer, making any passerby frantic not to get on her bad side. Now, her followers wash away like a bargain perfume in the shower--temporary, skin-deep, fake. The scent of chemicals and plastic and artificial additives masking anything genuine.

Yasmine just never thought Moon would be one of those people.

She looks so happy in her Instagram stories, laughing with her new friends and making kissy faces at her stupid boyfriend. He got his hair redone and now he somehow looks even worse.

It's beyond embarrassing Yasmine got passed over for this creep.

Yasmine's family don't speak to her as they board the train for Villefranche-sur-mer. She's a surly presence, glued to her phone screen and face pinched into a scowl.

But all Yasmine can think about is how alone she feels, even among her own flesh and blood.

Because at the end of the day, that's where she always ends up, isn't it? That's always what happens when people see her for who she truly is.

Because maybe Moon was onto something.

She has plenty she should feel sorry for. She's catty and callous and downright childish when things don't go her way, but she's not sure how to be anything else.

And there's only one person in this whole wretched world who's given her even an inkling of a desire to try.

***

For a long time, Yasmine tried desperately to convince herself that Moon was just as bad as her.

She had to be. That's why she laughed along whenever Yasmine stuck in her sharp comments like splinters under skin. That's why she never protested when Yasmine made the difficult calls, throwing out friends who tried to undermine the clique and teaching them what happened to backstabbers. That's why she stood back when Yasmine joined Kyler in bullying the losers, pouring more and more salt into already infected wounds.

And sure, Moon seemed guilty sometimes. Sure, she liked to act like she had a conscience about all the fucked-up shit they did.

But she was only saying that to make herself feel better. Yasmine knew, deep down, she agreed with it all.

She had to. Why else would she be drawn to someone who was her polar opposite? Cruel in all the ways she was kind? Loud in all the ways she was quiet? Strong-willed in all the ways she was easygoing?

No, anyone who stuck with Yasmine as long as Moon did had to have a truly vile side. Otherwise, Moon would have left long ago.

Because a truly good person couldn't love someone like Yasmine. Something like Yasmine.

At least that's how Yasmine tries to make sense of it.

"No, I'm staying. I apologized to Aisha for what we did, and you should, too."

No, actually, Yasmine wanted to snarl. I'm fine where I am. I like who I am. I don't need to change. Yasmine the Mean Girl made it this far, so I must be doing something right.

And she would've stayed in that Yasmine forever--Yasmine the mean girl, Yasmine the bitch, Yasmine the queen bee. Stubbornly clinging to an image and an ideal always doomed to collapse in on itself. Tucked away safely behind the straightened hair and perpetual sneers that had always given her strength.

Because who was she, if not power incarnate? Who was she, if not a hurricane of a force to be feared and respected by all her peers.

She guesses she'll have to find out.

***

Yasmine hears her sister puff into the darkness. She imagines the smoke faintly glowing in reds, oranges, blues, and greens, just catching the flashing club lights streaming in under the closed door.

Cool glass beneath her fingers, and she realizes it's her turn with the bong.

It's nice to have something to cover up the room's musty smell. Tucked away in the back of the Nuits Blanches, it reeks of sweat, alcohol, and god-knows-what-else.

Most people use it for fucking. Yasmine and Rosalie have better plans: weed and incessant bitching.

Whatever Ros got from Thibault (or whatever his name was) must have some other shit in it, because it sure as hell is not relaxing Yasmine like it's supposed to. In minutes, she's walking aimlessly around the room, mumbling to herself about losers and freaks.

"It's not fair. It's not fucking fair. They stole my life from me, Ros! Like, what did I ever do to deserve this?"

Rosalie exhales more unseen smoke.

"Don't'cha know, Yas? Pretty girls only get a day in the limelight. Some'n always takes our place."

"It's bullshit."

"'t's how shit works." Rosalie chuckles, and it turns to coughs halfway through. "You know, like. Paris, right? How no one's heard anything 'bout her for years?"

Yasmine frowns. "Didn't she get Botox?"

"'zactly. She's like...50 now or something. But no one remembers jack 'bout her except that she's hot and blonde and rich. And after she overdoses on heroin or drinks herself to death or whatever, that'll be all people ever remember. "

"I thought she was doing fine. Had like...kids and shit."

"Oh, sure, but who cares? Point is that no one's talking 'bout her anymore. Now it's all Karlie or Cara or whoever. Pretty girls get their 15 minutes of fame and then the world moves on. Can't get people to bend to your will anymore when they've already gone off to the next girl."

"It can't be that cut-and-dry."

"You think I wouldn't know?" Rosalie scoffs. "I'm telling you, that's how this life works. 'T's not like I'll be set for life if my Insta posts go viral like I want. I'll be trending for a few months or a few weeks, and then everyone'll move on to the next thirst trap or whatever. Then I gotta find some other way to get back on the radar if I want people to notice me again. And high school's basically a smaller scale version of that, right?"

"I don't know." Yasmine scowls. "I always figured if you managed to claw your way all the way up top, you earned the right to keep your place."

"Oh, you wish." Rosalie sounds almost pitying. "Or like...Kim Kardashian, right? You think anyone's gonna remember anything about her 'cept her big ass and her stupid show?"

"She and Paris are married, though, right? So lotta people would say they 'succeeded' at their shit. Or whatever that looks like."

For some reason, the idea of using a husband as an accomplishment metric makes Yasmine feel nauseous. But she won't deny the truth of it.

It's not as bad as it was, like, 200 years ago or whatever. No one's going to cart her off to jail if she doesn't tie the know with some asshole. But the pressure to find her "male half" is always hovering just out of sight, following her like a bad omen.

"Yeah, for now." Rosalie blows into the air again, and Yasmine imagines her puffing out a long trail of smoke. "Until Kanye and Carter cheat on them with someone half their age. Girls like us always die alone, Yasmine. We shrivel up and become unmarketable and no one loves us anymore."

Yasmine hopes her sister's wrong.

***

It's a strange thing. The very girls who once sat around her table and answered to her without question are now snickering at her in the hallways, whispering among themselves as she passes.

She's never been on the other side of this. She's always been the scoffer, and never the one getting scoffed at. She guesses she knows how it feels now, being a victim of...whatever this is. The kind of viciousness she used to perpetuate.

And every time someone shouts a taunt at her, it's yet another reminder that when something's been so thoroughly destroyed, it can't ever come back the same. There's no way to tape all the pieces into anything resembling the original.

Yasmine wonders if the crowds she used to run with and the people she used to command could always see her for who she really was. She wonders if they were merely gathering up the courage to leave her. Waiting for her to weaken enough that it was possible, perhaps. It certainly seems likely, what with all her old clique turned to hostile, jeering adversaries.

Well. All except one.

There's one person who glares at every passing student who makes a dig at Yasmine. There's one person who squeezes her hand a little tighter when the other kids call her names. There's one person who Yasmine would brave every insult for, endure every possible humiliation if it meant holding onto her.

Yasmine doesn't want drama, honest. She doesn't want a fight. But if it comes to one, she has the only ally she could ever need. The only person she wants to charge into battle with.

And as she strolls around the mall, listening to stories of Saturday morning yoga and turquoise jewelry scams, she doesn't need to wonder who could stay.

She smiles at Moon.

You could stay.

***

EYYYY BARELY IN TIME FOR THE LAST DAY OF FEBRUARY (leap day, no less!!!) BUT HERE WE ARE!!! HAVE A BONUS LAST-MINUTE FEMSLASH FEBRUARY POST WITH OUR EXTRA DAY!!!

Bro I have soooooo many emotions about these two and this song, like??? The fact that Moon stayed is part of what made me so Down Bad for this ship. Like she very much did not have to. She coulda bailed on Yasmine's ass forever after the beach party drama, and I would not have blamed her one bit. But her gay ass took Yasmine right tf back, even after Yasmine shows 0 guilt or intention to change whatsoever XD

AND Yasmine's gay ass forgave Moon, too??? Like I'm sure Yasmine didn't decimate her social circle SO bad that she couldn't make other friends if she wanted. One time in S3 we even see her sitting at a lunch table with a random extra girl (the scene where Kyler draws a dick on Demetri's cast, if you're curious), so we know she didn't lose ALL her friends after the Wedgie Incident. But nah, she wants to hang out 24/7 with the girl who ditched her for a mohawk weirdo on her birthday XD IF THAT AIN'T LESBIAN LOVE, I DAMN WELL DON'T KNOW WHAT IS.

And I've said it before, but it could well be SOLELY Moon's influence that convinces Yasmine to improve herself at all??? Like Moon is all "hmmmm, you could be nicer, you know >:(" and then Yasmine reconciles with Sam AND takes pity on Demetri when he gets bullied??? And in later seasons she's even befriending Eli, who her S1 self would not have touched with a 30-foot pole!!! And it all seems to stem back to Moon, does it not??? And I think that's pretty neat. Also pretty gay.

Yasmine Nolastname 🫱🏼‍🫲🏼Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz I cry about them when listening to Taylor Swift's "The Archer" because they're both ex-bullies who decided to better themselves because they were gay for their best friend. So true of them tbh!!

I went with dusky lavender-ish themes for this moodboard because idk, it just felt right. Something something the sun setting on Mean Yasmine and rising on New and Improved Yasmine, etc etc. It's also such a soft, contemplative, and kind of bittersweet color to me. Like it has a certain sadness to it, but an understated hopefulness, too??? Idk, I'm just going off Vibes here. But anyways, mix that with kind of a sunset/spring flower soft pink, and I think you get a pretty good picture of Yasmine's general S3 energy. Like she was trying!!! She was struggling, but damn, if she wasn't trying!!! Just wish they hadn't rushed the poor thing's redemption arc so much that the drastic change in her in S4 is legitimately kind of unsettling.

Yes, I DO fully believe Moon would make cherry-blossom-and-lilac (at least I think that's what those flowers are???) milk tea for her girlfriend, thank you for asking 💗💜💗💜 You can pry my headcanon that Moon makes fancy, soothing herbal teas for her loved ones out of my cold, dead hands. I just hope she doesn't use them as a substitute for modern medicine. Also, these two would be THE most obnoxious Boba Bitches™️, I just know it.

Tbh I've been looking for an excuse to use the top right corner pic because I am enamored with it ;_____; Like that's literally just Yasmine??? And the thought of her having moon-themed jewelry to always kinda keep a piece of her girlfriend with her is making me Feel Things ;_____; Also, wearing a sweater-but-slutty is painfully Yasmine XD Like how else will you brave those brutal SoCal winters??? To be fair, it DOES tend to get Just Cold Enough that a crop-top sweater might actually keep you at the right temperature ajasdhkuyg. Slutty yet practical fashion choice???

ALSO the bottom left pic is yet another outfit I NEED to see Moon in, like!!! It's so cute and EXACTLY her style. Right down to the tree of life and crystal-looking necklaces!!! Please, Cobra Kai showrunners, I just want Moon to take her girlfriend on tranquil nature walks in long, flowy, comfortable skirts and feel at peace with herself and with the world ;______; It's what she deserves!!! It's what both these home of sexuals deserve!!!

YasMoon tag list 🩷💛🩷💛 @multifandom-lesbian09 @karatecaulfield @themasterusersblog @ficusin @gemini-sensei @elisiassideb1tch

As always, moodboard pic credits available upon request :3

#yasmoon #yasmine x moon #moon x yasmine #aesthetic #moodboard #yasmine cobra kai #moon cobra kai #cobra kai #cobra kai season 1 #cobra kai season 3 #cobra kai season 4 #cobra kai season 5 #femslash #femslash february #femslashfeb2024 #wlw #sapphic #lesbian

[callsignbaphomet]

You know what? I kept thinking about that post I reblogged about the skin care tags and I am NOT siding with the person who used those tags. That person's an asshole. However, the majority of people in this site do have a major problem with self-care and recovery. Like, someone posts some tips or hints for stuff they've tested out or advice that was given to them and there's always--ALWAYS--some people up in arms and offended that someone would even dare to say that, much less try it.

I've seen people getting worked up over someone daring to suggest a bath could possibly help with their current state of mind and/or mood. It legit does. How many times did I go x amount of time without a shower because I didn't have the energy or felt it wasn't worth it? Far too many to count. And every time I showered I almost instantly felt so much better and felt my mind clearing up.

Eating food (not junk food), drinking water, keeping yourself clean and even exercising helps make you feel so much better. And I won't sit here and say it's easy keeping a schedule and/or a routine because it is not. At least not at first. I started and stopped short of a week so many times. So many! It was nuts! At the start you're always gonna lack energy or a desire to do it and you'll even find yourself in a heated debate with yourself over whether you wanna do it or have the energy to. You're gonna find yourself thinking "One time/day without ____ isn't gonna hurt." And sure, usually it doesn't. Like my nutritionist said, "Do your very best and push yourself but if you miss out or need to skip then don't worry, shit happens." But sometimes that 1 day turns into 2 and then 3 and then 4 and before you know it you're back to your old harmful habits again. You have to fight tooth and nail through that mentality and eventually you'll be able to just do it without much effort at all. It gets so much easier if you just put some effort.

I even read a post about someone bitching about the post saying to try to brush your teeth. Like, this asshole was legit complaining that someone was recommending to at the very least brush your teeth. I remember the original post, I even commented on it encouraging people to brush their teeth because I very recently went through some teeth work. There is currently almost $4,000 in my mouth and I'm still not done. Teeth are insanely expensive, hardly ever covered by insurances and depending on the procedure they can be uncomfortable and painful with long recoveries. But like I said, a lot of people on this site love to fucking complain about posts that talk about self-care, recovery or advice that tells people to fucking do something instead of just rotting away with their thumb up their ass.

Dude, I spent years ignoring so much shit, ignoring doctor appointments, ignoring my own well being and it did nothing but screw me over. It took a massive fright in regards to my health to make me wake up. I legit thought I was gonna die but I didn't and you know what? Now I gotta use all my energy to undo all the damage I did to myself because I didn't wanna listen to anyone's advice or take some goddamn responsibility and take care of myself. It's taken a lot of hard work but I've gotten all my conditions under control, I'm going to ALL of my appointments, I'm taking all my medications, watching what I eat and how much of it I eat, doing research into my conditions to better understand them and I've lost almost 20 pounds in under a month. I feel absolutely amazing for the first time in almost 2 decades. I'm not even ignoring my mental health anymore, I'm working to find appointments to be able to fight back all this nonsense that led to this crap.

No one is making posts with advice to make you feel like shit or shame you. No one. These posts are mostly done by people who have gone through shit and wanna give others some advice so they don't go through what they went through. Fuck, I sure as shit don't want anyone to go through the scares I did so if asked I'll give advice, I'll link others to information, I'll reblog advice and/or information because whether you like it we all need advice and help from others. Just because it rubs you the wrong way it doesn't mean people are doing it to be mean or make you feel guilty or whatever nonsense you think people are trying to do.

It really takes a very specific kind of cunt to see a post talking about health advice or self-care and decide to make a counter-post to bitch about the post. Sit the fuck down and shut your ungrateful ass up.

And I'm totally disabling the rb option cuz y'all (not my mutuals, you guys are amazing) are fucking clowns and I don't have time for you.

[little-diable]

Stitches in the dark - Spencer Reid (smut)

Written for @band--psycho 2k challenge, I love you and I'm so proud of you Tash! My word was "stitches" - I didn't highlight it in the text, since its pretty obvious. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Spencer and the reader are spending the night together at the annual FBI ball, but when his suit jacket rips he needs the reader to stitch it back together. Who would have thought that it would only take a needle and some threat to push the two into the right direction?

Warnings: 18+, sex, sex in a public place, mixed with some fluff, mentions a needle (for sewing)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (1.5k)

(Y/n) couldn’t help but frown at her reflection, tugging on the black dress Emily had forced her to wear, making her feel like a puppet stuck in layers of fabric. She looked beautiful, though just the thought of having to spend the following hours squeezed into a ballroom with people she didn’t even know the names of didn’t sit right with her.

But time was running short, she didn’t have a chance to back out, head whipping towards her front door. Spencer was pacing in front of it, knocking on the heavy wood again and again, till (y/n) finally ripped it open, staring at his tall frame. He was dressed in a black suit, looking as handsome as one could be.

“Hey,” (y/n) forced her gaze to meet his eyes, smiling at a gasping Spencer. He felt his lungs burning, struggling to keep on breathing, he had never seen her in a dress before, could only imagine what was lying beneath the heavy fabric.

“You look gorgeous.” Spencer cleared his throat, waiting for her to lock the door before she followed him to the car.

Both weren’t big fans of events and crowded places, but neither wanted to miss the annual FBI ball and since they didn’t have any dates they simply decided to go together, hoping that time would pass by quickly enough. Spencer opened the car door for (y/n), patiently helping her with her dress, chuckling at the struggling woman.

The air crackled, both couldn’t help but stare at one another, stealing glances whenever the car would take another turn, driving them through the city, towards the big hall. (Y/n) tapped her feet against the carpet, tightly gripping her dress to find anything to hold onto, wondering if he could tell how nervous she felt.

Not once had they spoken about their feelings for one another, too focused on their work, on the cases that kept them going. Spencer had always struggled with analyzing his own feelings, so it had been no surprise to the rest of the team that he couldn’t understand that (y/n) was clearly crushing on him.

“Just tell me when you want to leave,” Spencer murmured as the car came to a halt, waiting for them to step out before driving off into the night, leaving the two behind. Instinctively (y/n) grasped his hand in hers, tugging him close to stabilise her trembling frame - at least that’s what she told herself.

(Y/n) could barely take in her surroundings, trying to keep her breathing steady as Spencer pulled her towards the crowd, finding the rest of their team. With her heart racing on her tongue, she greeted her friends, not letting go of his warmth, the arm that found its way around her waist.

“Do you want to dance?” His breath tickled her neck, waiting for her to make up her mind, head slightly nodding yes, following Spencer to the dance floor. (Y/n) was thankful for the silence that lingered between them, giving her a few moments to make up her mind, sorting through her thoughts as they began to sway to the music.

The calming piano music wrapped itself around them, keeping them safe and shielded from the other couples. Spencer couldn’t help but wonder if she could hear his heartbeat, the strong muscles that pulsed in his chest. He felt like a young boy, the Spencer that had just been asked to join the team years ago, not used to chasing criminals all around the country.

But nothing would ever give him an adrenaline rush like this, keeping (y/n) close while they got lost in the calmness of the night. Both hearts ached as the song ended, forcing them apart, ushering the couple back to their smiling friends. None of them dared to speak their mind, very well knowing how Spencer and (y/n) struggled with the growing tension between them.

(Y/n) watched Spencer follow Derek to the bar, shooting Emily a warning glance, keeping her in line, at least for the night. She didn’t have any time to find a new topic to discuss with the team, Derek’s voice rang through the ballroom, calling for (y/n).

Both men were standing near the bar, fiddling around with Spencer’s suit jacket, trying to keep the ripped open fabric pieced together. (Y/n) couldn’t stop her chuckles from bubbling out of her, watching the two with twinkling eyes, waiting for them to tell her what to do.

“You can sew, right?” With her tongue pressed against her teeth, she grasped Spencer’s hand, pulling him towards the bathrooms, making their way into one of the stalls. She placed her purse down on the sink, combing through her stuff till she found her small emergency bag, pulling out a needle and some black thread. Spencer had sat down on the toilet seat, watching her with wide eyes.

“Give me your jacket.” (Y/n) didn’t think twice before placing herself in his lap, trying to make herself comfortable as she began stitching the fabric together. She felt his eyes on her back, not noticing how Spencer slowly moved his hands closer to her waist. His instincts seemed to guide him, taking over his system to push him in the right direction.

Spencer felt like he was on drugs, high and confused, out of place. His body worked without asking his mind for permission, lips meeting her neck, kissing her soft skin. (Y/n) froze in her movements, holding her breath. Was Spencer Reid kissing her? The Spencer Reid she had been dreaming of for years?

“Spencer,” his name fell from her lips, filling the small space. She dropped his jacket, turning her head towards him. Before another word could leave either one of them, their lips met, swallowing down their moans. Her hands got lost in his brown hair, holding him close as their tongues moved in sync.

“(Y/n), I-.” He didn’t know what to say, wanted to beg her to let him touch her. But the hands that tugged on his dress shirt, seemed to push him back into his mindset, guided by his emotions. She struggled to undo his shirt, so her hands moved lower, turning towards the zip of his trousers.

“Here?” His raspy voice rang in her ears, body turning so that she was straddling him. The “yes” she moaned against his lips vibrated on his skin, tingling in every cell of his body. (Y/n) managed to pull his trousers down, cock springing free. Her hands grasped him, no longer feeling nervous, instincts telling her what to do.

Spencer’s head rolled back, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed down another groan. (Y/n) couldn’t rip her eyes off him, he looked handsome, the darkness that engulfed them still allowed her to admire his lust drunken features. He moved his hands up her thighs, pushing her dress up to her waist, tugging her panties aside to touch her.

Both moved as if they had done this numerous times before, taking care of one another as their heart’s begged them to keep on exploring. His name bled from her lips, eyes fluttering shut, enjoying the feeling of his cold hands toying with her pulsing clit.

“I need to feel you.” Their mouths met, lips parted to allow their shaky breaths to fill the small room. With Spencer’s help (y/n) shuffled herself even closer, staring at him with excitement laced in her gaze.

“Do you have a-” he reached for his wallet, pulling out the small foil packet. (Y/n) ripped it out of his hand, opening it with her teeth before rolling it down his length. The moment she sank down on his cock, (y/n) felt burning flames of pleasure taking over her system, for a second her eyes snapped to her arms, wondering if she was truly burning alive.

Spencer had inflamed something deep inside of her, burning her system to the ground as he took over. Their hips met over and over again, skin slapping as she rode him with his hands placed on her behind. Both felt like they were drowning, holding one another down as the air around them got thinner.

“You take me so well, so tight, fuck.” Spencer murmured against her lips, feeling his own orgasm creeping closer, no longer could he control his movements, mind set on making her cum. “See how you’re squeezing me, you need me, don’t you?”

(Y/n) cried out, head buried in the crook of his neck. Her thighs trembled, she no longer could hold herself up, would let go any second now. Spencer moved his hand to her chin, tugging on her skin, forcing her eyes to meet his.

“Look at me when you cum.” His voice dropped lower, no longer the genius that was scared of messing things up with (y/n), but the man that fucked her raw.

She cried and cried, walls fluttering as her orgasm clashed through her like a tsunami, ripping her open from inside out. Spencer’s orgasm followed shortly after, cum filling the condom, holding her down against his hips.

Their heavy pants filled the bathroom, eyes closed, enjoying the bliss that flickered inside of them. (Y/n) pulled him in for another kiss, silently thanking him for touching her how she had always dreamt of.

What had started with a few stitches in the dark had turned into something so raw and passionate that both couldn’t help but thank their lucky stars for luring them out of their houses.

Follow my sideblog @little-diableswriting for taglist reblogs

#Spencer Reid smut #Spencer Reid imagine #spencer reid x reader

[blossomkoushi]

you take what daddy gives you.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

summary: matsukawa had a long day, but it was finally the weekend and his little princess was demanding his attention.

warnings: dd/lg dynamic, daddy as a title, hard/mean dom!matsukawa, female reader, two slaps across the face, oral (M receiving), degradation, spitting in mouth and pussy, brief choking

word count: 2.5k

A/N: ....i’m not super proud of this but it’s so long i feel bad about deleting it jnskjvnknsf

It had been a long day, longer and more tiring than most days. But the weekend was finally here, and he’d get a break, a pause from the world and get to indulge you in all the pleasures he can offer. He’s not one for spoiling you unless you earn it though, your pleasure is a luxury that only he can provide.

“…daddy?” your voice is meek and soft, just above a whisper as you toddle around your shared apartment, trying to find matsukawa. You had heard him come in, the door opening and closing along with the thud of his bag falling to the floor and his tired sigh. Clearly, he needed some stress relief. “Daddy? Where are you?”

“in here.” He sighed, practically hearing your pout lifting along with the gentle pitter patter of your bare feet on the floor. He was in the living room, dark blue shirt slightly unbuttoned and his legs spread, head hanging back on the top of the couch.

“daddy!” your squeal brought a smile to his tired features, cracking an eye open and patting his lap, urging you to take a seat. The smile on your face widened as you rushed over, quickly climbing on and starting to kiss up his exposed neck and chest. “how was your day, daddy?”

“exhausting.” His big and heavy hands landed on the swell of your ass, rubbing casually over the flimsy material of your shorts. “how was yours, baby?”

“mmh better now that you’re here” carefully nestling up in his hold, you hum happily and lazily kiss over his chest. “missed my daddy”

“daddy missed you too, princess” his voice was getting deeper, rumbling in his chest while his hands wander up and down your sides, making you shiver. A smirk dances on his lips, your soft whines and mewls making pride grow in his chest. His hands move back down to your ass, gripping the cheeks harshly and slowly pushing and pulling, forcing you to grind down against him.

“d-daddy” your hands grip his shirt tightly, whimpering with need, feeling your slick building in your panties. “daddy- want your cock, please”

“filthy slut” he grins, placing a hard slap on one of your cheeks, gripping the flesh again when you gasp. “daddy just got home and you’re already begging?”

You cower under his gaze and touch, shyly looking at his smirking face and whining. A pout covers your pretty face, placing your forehead against his chest and grinding down harder, feeling his cock straining against the constricting fabric of his pants.

“’m sorry daddy… jus so handsome… wanna make you feel good…” you mumble, fingers anxiously playing with his shirt. He growls, making you tense up until one of his hands come up to grip your jaw, pinching your cheeks together and forcing you to meet his eyes.

“fucking speak up, slut. You want daddy that bad? Use your big girl words.” His tone is harsh and unwavering, letting go of your face only to slap your cheek and grip on again.

“I-I’m sorry daddy! I’m sorry- daddy please!” arousal tugs in your stomach, rushed babbling tumbling from your lips. Your cheek burns from his heavy hand, your own gripping his forearm. “p-please daddy, want your cock, want to make you feel good”

He hums, letting go of your face and relaxing back against the couch, placing his hands over the back of it, staring at you.

“then make daddy feel good.”

His daring words make you scramble off, clumsily getting on the floor between his legs and undoing the belt, stroking over the hard bulge. Looking up at him, a bored look on his handsome features and determination fills you, needing to make him feel good. Undoing the button and pulling down the zipper, the black boxer briefs sitting underneath makes your mouth water, nearly lifting up the waistband from his big cock.

“daddy’s so big” your eyes go wide, always surprised by just how long and thick his cock is, fingers barely touching around the girth while you gently take it out.

The length is a gorgeous tan, slightly darker than the rest of his body. Dark and curly pubes sit at the base, neatly trimmed and just long enough to tickle the nose of any brave person that manages to deepthroat him. The tip is flushed deep tan and pink mix, plump and steadily leaking pre-cum.

Despite being matsukawa’s girlfriend and sub for years now, you still couldn’t take more than half of his cock down your throat. He usually puts a hand on your head when you pout, staring at the impressive length in front of you, reassuring you that he wouldn’t be upset if you can’t take it all.

Except this time. His hands stay at the top of the couch, sighing and checking his watch.

“hurry up. You know I’m not above fucking your throat.” His voice low and dangerous, threatening along with his bored eyes glaring down at you. It makes your breath hitch, nodding desperately and opening your mouth as wide as possible, wrapping your wet lips around the leaking head, sucking softly. His pleasure and enjoyment comes first after all. A low hum vibrates from his chest and you dare to look up, nearly choking when you see his head thrown back and eyes closed. He had always been such a gorgeous sight.

Moving your mouth off him for a moment, you grip his cock with both hands and let a thick glob of spit fall down on the head. It moves down the shaft, stopping at your hands and you let it move between the digits, wetting his length and making it easier to stroke.

“my daddy’s got the prettiest cock” your eyes meet his when you speak, slowly pumping him while you gasp. “’s all mine, isn’t it daddy? Only belongs to me, right?”

“aw, sweetheart” he coos, reaching a hand down to cradle your cheek and making you smile. He lets it linger for a moment before letting go, slapping you again and gripping your hair. “don’t get greedy.”

“s-sorry, daddy” you stammer, eyes glossing over from the force and his harsh tone.

“fucking slut, bet your panties are soaked, aren’t they?” he scoffs, letting go of your hair and nudging your leg with his foot. “stand up and take them off. Give daddy a show.”

“yes, daddy” standing up, you give him a shy look before turning around and spreading your legs slightly. Your fingers hook around the waistband of your shorts and panties, slowly pulling them both down in one go. Pushing them down to your knees, you bend over and spread your ass cheeks apart. “can you see, daddy? ‘m real wet... only for you”

“lay down on the couch.” He dismisses your words, only humming to himself and standing up to get rid of his own clothes. “and take off the top, daddy’s gotta see the tits that he owns.”

The possessive words make you squeal, perking up and smiling widely. Removing all your clothes and laying down on the bed, you watch him get undressed. He’s not as fit as when you first met him, there are no longer chiseled abs on his stomach, but more of a lean build with a slight hint of fat covering the smooth muscles. His arms are still big, only making him appear wider than he actually is along with his broad shoulders. He’s taller as well, nearly standing at 6’4”. It leaves you in awe, every single part of him made you breathless.

“daddy- please- want you” you squirm on the couch, stretching your hands out and grabbing the air desperately. It makes him chuckle, how he’s trained you to be so desperate for him at all times.

“you really are greedy today, need daddy to teach you some manners?” he murmurs as he climbs over you, caging in you squirming body and smirking when you shake your head.

“no daddy, jus need your cock in me, please” your hands thread in the wavy locks at the back of his head.

“what did daddy say about being greedy?” matsukawa suddenly growls, gripping your throat and squeezing slightly, pinning you to the cushions. “you take what daddy gives you. You feel good when daddy gives it to you. You breathe when daddy says you can. Got it?”

You can only squeak in response, already feeling the delicious dizziness that comes from his big hand choking you. he contemplates you for a moment, tilting his head and watching the way your eyes roll back, a smirk laced across his face.

Letting go of your throat, he pulls back and spreads your legs apart as far as they can go. His hands press on your thighs, watching your glistening cunt.

“did you prep before like daddy asked?” he arches an eyebrow as he speaks, looking up at you.

“yes, daddy. G-got the biggest toy in… took it out when you got home”

“good slut” the praise shot through your body, nearly making you cum untouched. He doesn’t always praise you during the scenes, preferring to be condescending, to break you down until you’re a babbling and crying mess and then building you back up in the aftercare. But he had his moments, when he couldn’t deny you of praise, his cock twitching from the effect he has on your submissive body.

“thank you, daddy” you can only gasp, your pussy clenching and unclenching under his intense stare.

Moving his hands down, he spreads your pussy lips apart and watches more carefully when your cunt pulsates and twitches, grinning when you whine in embarrassment. Taking another look up at you, he gathers saliva in his mouth before spitting it out, directly in your entrance. It forces another gasp out of you, thighs nearly coming closed around his head with the way you try to close up, shivering with shame and arousal at the same time.

“such a greedy little hole you have, swallowed up daddy’s spit so eagerly” he grins, taking a hand off your thigh to grip his cock, slapping the length down on your pussy. He pushes his hips flush against yours, biting his lip as he watches just how deep his cock will go inside you.

“daddyyy” you reach a hand down to grab his wet cock, barely grazing the head when matsukawa’s hand grips your wrist and pins it over your head, grabbing the other one as well and pushing it up alongside the other one.

“princess. You’re being a brat. Daddy’s had a long day, so let him play or you’ll get punished.” He scolds, squeezing your wrists tightly with his hand, watching you wince and squirm. “open your mouth.”

He waits for you to obey, gathering saliva in his mouth and spitting it in your mouth. He taps your cheek as a signal to swallow, and you finally go limp in his hold. His free hand grips the base of his cock and slaps it down a few times on your sensitive clit before moving the head down to push against your entrance, slowly moving inside. He watches as his cock gets swallowed up by your dripping hole, your legs going limp with the stretch.

“daddy, ‘m-“ you barely get the slurred words out before you clamp down on him, body tensing up and shaking as you cum. Your eyes roll back, a loud moan passing from your lips as matsukawa chuckles.

“dumb fucking whore, daddy isn’t even fully in yet and you’re already creaming? Fucking pathetic.” His words are harsh, spat down at you and laced with condescension. It makes you shiver in pleasure, pushing your legs further apart to let him in closer, deeper, needing to be stuffed full by his thick cock.

“da-ddy, pleasee, wan more” already fucked out, you babble and toss your head from side to side, bucking your hips to try and force him deeper.

“yeah, yeah, always want more” he pushes in deeper once you relax, smirking to himself when your back arches. “taking daddy’s cock like the proper slut you are, just a hole for daddy to fill, aren’t you?”

You nod in agreement, whining and moaning loudly when he finally bottoms out, filling you to the brim and grinding down, his pubes and pelvis rubbing against your clit. He gives you a few seconds to breathe before starting to pull out, watching the ring of your cum settle on the base. Letting go of your hands, he grips the back of your thighs and push them towards your chest, making you wheeze when he pushes his cock inside again, pressing down on the deepest parts of your pussy.

“ngh- fu-ck, daddy, please! Wan- wan more, more daddy” your babbles have become a drooling mess, hands gripping the cushions under your back while your body is soft and pliant, moving wherever he pushes you. A sound of annoyance leaves him, slowly pulling out and slamming back inside, a choked whimper leaving your trembling body.

His thrusts get harder and deeper, nearly fucking you into the couch with the way he slams his hips down against yours. Your babbling only gets louder and more desperate, barely coherent at this point but matsukawa pays no mind to it. He’d be worried about your pleasure in this, but the white ring at the base of his cock only gets thicker, and you keep seizing up and clamping down on him, moaning loudly.

“keep creaming around my cock, does it feel that good? So fucking slutty, making a mess on daddy before he even gets to cum” the last word flips a switch in your brain. The babbles about how good it feels quickly changes into begging for his cum.

“o-oh! Oh, pleaseee daddy, daddy! Daaaddy want your cum- cum- daddy’s cum” your eyes shoot open, tears falling freely as you beg and whine.

It sets him off. A few more deep thrusts and he pushes in fully, groaning loudly as he cums inside you, filling you up. It’s so much and so thick, making you squirm and clench down on him, milking his cock dry.

“fuck-“ he grunts, breathing heavily and letting your legs flop down, his own body laying down on yours.

“daddy… daddy” you continue to babble, shaky hands moving to rub his sweaty back, exhaustion filling your limbs.

“’m here princess, daddy’s here” he mumbles against your chest, pushing his hands under your back to bring you closer. “you were so good for daddy, such a good girl”

“thank you, daddy” it makes you smile, comforting and warm fuzzy feelings blooming in your chest from his affection. It doesn’t always come naturally to him, unusually soft after he fucks you dry.

“you’re daddy’s best girl, aren’t you? my pretty princess” his voice is getting sleepier and slower, pushing his head further into your chest and moaning contently.

“mmhm, ‘m daddy’s best girl” you hum in agreement, barely thinking before speaking.

Matsukawa doesn’t have the energy to think about pulling out, the exhaustion of the day followed by the rough sex, he’s just about ready to pass out. And based off your slow and steady breaths, you beat him to the punch.

He was going to have to remember to pamper you when you wake up.

taglist: @haztory​

#watering.flowers #watering.matsukawa #sprout.matsukawa #haikyuu!! #haikyuu smut #matsukawa smut #matsukawa issei #mattsun smut #haikyuu #matsukawa x reader

[chuckbass-love]

Hi! I know you only just posted it but would it be possible to request 33&36 from the prompts with Ransom please?❤️

A/N: Thank you for your patience on this one, i really hope when you read it that it was worth the wait. Also thank you for requesting in the first place, it means a lot that people ask me to write fics for them.

Prompt #33: "Pushing back against my fingers already? How pathetic"

Prompt #36: "You'd better watch your fucking mouth"

Disclaimer: My work is not to be translated or to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Warning: Smut! Unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, swearing, daddy kink, implied alcohol consumption and use of the word slut/degradation. 18+ everyone....

Word Count: 2,191

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @twerkforambrose go check them out 💕

Your Filthy Addiction

Five more minutes, you’re going to give that arrogant son of a bitch five more minutes before you toss the food you’d made earlier. You’ve spent all dam day slaving away in that kitchen of yours to make sure Ransom had a decent home cooked meal to come back to after a long day working with Harlan, and what does he do? He doesn’t even show up.

You might love him but if you didn’t get annoyed at least once a day with him then life wouldn’t be right. He’s always doing something to mess you around.

And today is testament to that, it’s testament to the fact that no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t help but let you down. Maybe now you’ve had enough of sitting idly by and letting him walk all over you.

So when he eventually stumbles into the house, his tipsy state as clear as day, your cage is well and truly rattled.

“Where the hell have you been?” you snap, standing in front of him with your hands placed firmly on your hips as you take in his flustered cheeks. He’s very drunk indeed, probably due to the bottomless Jameson supply at the bar across town.

You’ve tried your hardest for years ever since the night you first met Ransom to help him with his obvious drinking problem but to no avail. And now you see why your solutions to his problems never worked, it was because despite his constant complaining about said problems, he loves having just a tiny bit of conflict in his life. Mostly with his good for nothing family who only treat him like dirt. But he gives as good as he gets, always has and always will.

“I was just out with Harvey” the way his shoulders move up as he shrugs only seems to bother you all the more. His lack of care for his actions have always created issues for your relationship but this takes the cake.

To some, your pouty and bratty behaviour may seem pathetic and unnecessary, but to you it’s more than him missing dinner. It’s about the fact that he always seems to let you down, over and over.

“Oh so you prefer his company over mine then? Because i made us a lovely meal so that we could eat together after a week of not being able to and this is the thanks i get? For my so called boyfriend to be swanning off with the master of one night stands” your voice is low, your stare dark and angry, your stance even more so and he can definitely see how badly he’s fucked up.

However, if you know Ransom well enough, then you can certainly see his change in attitude coming a mile off.

“You’d better watch your fucking mouth” he barks, his finger pointed directly in your face as he stalks closer to you. You find yourself stepping back, intimidation controlling you.

“Or what? You gonna make me? Judging by the way you’ve been acting you don’t have a leg to stand on” you say matter of factly as you shake your head in disgust at his nerve. How dare he boss you around when he’s the one who’s been out of line all this time.

“Maybe i will” he pokes his chin out as he stands tall, hands by his sides. He looks awfully confident as he inches closer. His index finger slips underneath your chin as he forces you to look directly into his menacing eyes.

You feel your breath catch in this moment. The knowledge of him doing whatever he wants to do to you just because he can is causing your entire body to shiver with anticipation. Despite how he makes you feel sometimes, you’re a sucker for him and everything he does.

He says jump, you say how high.

“What?” you murmur, wanting him to use his words just like he always makes you do.

“I said, maybe i will make you. Bet you’d love that, slut” you wince at the horrid nickname. It’s moments like these when you always try your hardest to avoid thinking about how his degradation of you makes you feel, your mind is objecting but your body is giving him the green light.

How is that?

How does he always manage to do that?

Must be some kind of mind control as you absentmindedly follow him through to the kitchen, his hand barely holding onto your own.

Before you can even make sense of things, he pushes you over the kitchen counter forcefully.

His hands splay across your ass cheeks as he lifts your dress up, bunching it at your waist before yanking your ruined panties down your bare legs. Next thing you know his fingers are toying at your dripping wet hole.

“Would ya look at this...you can try all you like to act up sweetheart, but you and i both know why this cunt of yours is soaked”

There he goes again, spewing filth to get you to give up the jig. You know you have to remain strong and stable but it’s so hard to do that when he....wait! Is he inserting his fingers? Fuck, they are so thick inside of you and two already? He must be a mind reader to know how this makes you feel, he must know what gets you keening because now here you are pushing back on them like a needy little brat.

“Pushing back on my fingers already? How pathetic” he tuts, his tone mocking as he chuckles a little. Still, his fingers remain as they twist and turn inside of you, scissoring you open before he adds a third.

Fuck, this is delicious torture. The man you’re supposed to be mad at but you can’t bring yourself to be when he makes your body feel so good.

The undeniable and powerful pleasure that he provides is just too good to quit. You could never let him go even if you actively tried to which by the way, you’ve attempted it a hundred times at least.

But every time you try he just lures you back in with his sexual prowess, his high libido and those dashing good looks. His sweet talk isn’t too bad either.

When will you ever learn to strengthen yourself up and walk away? Because he’s never going to change but oh shit, the way he’s pumping his fingers in and out rapidly is enough to cause the coil in your stomach to tighten one last time.

You move to meet his fingers, hips gyrating in circular motions slowly as you reach your hand between your legs.

Of course he pushes you hand away, insisting on using his own. His thumb presses down on your pulsating clit and the breathy groans that are escaping him let you know that he can sense your impending orgasm.

“Come on, baby. Cum for daddy” he urges, rubbing firm circles on you clit as his fingers curl inside of you, pushing against that spongy spot deep within. The one that will have you seeing stars in, 3...2...1.

“FUCK RANSOM” you scream out, hands gripping the kitchen counter so hard that it turns your knuckles white, his fingers continue to drive into you over and over as he rides you through your intense high.

“That’s my girl, just like that. Let go, baby” you can hear the smirk in his voice, the smugness he feels knowing that yet again he’s prevented you from walking away.

He’s convinced you to stay just by pleasuring you with his filthy touch, his sinful thick digits.

You may be weak, but with a man this good, a man capable of making your pretty little pussy cum over and over, why would you want to be anything else?

As soon as you come down from the high, you stand up, straightening your posture as you turn around to face him. The proud look covering his face lets you know that it’s all a game to him.

You pull your dress back down so that it’s covering up your modesty before pulling your panties up.

“What’s wrong, sad eyes?” he pokes, his hands resting either side of the counter, caging you in.

“You know what. You can’t just keep using sex to keep me around, Ransom” you huff in defeat, bothered by your lack of strong will.

“Sure i can, and what’s more, you’re gonna enjoy it too” he raises his eyebrows as he spins you back around, keeping your back arched by yanking your head backwards.

Every inch of your skin turns to gooseflesh as he trails his finger down the curve of your back before reaching your tail bone and pushing your dress up. He undoes the belt around his slacks before popping open the button and slipping them down along with his boxers, freeing his erection from its tight confines.

He slips your arousal covered panties to the side before smothering his eager red tip in your mouth watering pussy juices. Once he catches on your entrance he slams inside of you, but before you can jerk forward he hooks his arm into both of yours as he holds them behind you firmly.

You can never leave him, even if you truly wanted to, you’re stuck in an ongoing loop of orgasms and rough sex.

A frantic whimper slips off your tongue as his pace now renders on animalistic, hard and fast, just the way you both like it.

Of course the real pleasure comes from the slow and hard thrusts, the ones where he gently pokes at your g spot as he lays on top of you. Your legs wrapped around him, his face in the crook of your neck. But now is not the time for gentle and slow, now is the time for rushed and needy.

He’s desperate to achieve that orgasm just as much as he is to provide one for you. To feel your legs shaking as your head lulls back to rest on his chest, eyes rolling to the back of your head, it’s something he can never and will never get enough of. The way your walls are clamping down on him right now should be illegal as he can feel his balls tighten with the impending release.

“Fuck. Keep tightening those walls baby, let yourself go. Just. One. Last. Time” his voice desperate as his breathing turns ragged, matching yours. Your chest starts to rise and fall before your head falls back to rest on his chest just like he loves. He can feel your entire body tremble in his hold as he loosens his grip and pushes you over the counter.

“Gonna fucking cum, deep inside of this pussy. Gonna fill you up with my cum, baby” he growls, his voice deeper than before. He’s so painfully close, as are you.

And as you flutter around him one last time, he spills his load inside of you, causing you to stand up onto your tip toes with your head pressed into the marble counter.

He paints your walls with thick white ropes before twitching as he slows down his thrusts, then he stills his hips.

All that can be heard in this kitchen is heavy panting before the sound of your pussy squelching as he pulls out distracts you. He pulls his slacks back up, making quick work of his zip, button and belt whilst you toss your panties into the hamper by the laundry room and pull your dress back down before heading up to your bedroom.

New panties are a must.

“Now do you get it?” he asks, leaning on the open doorway to your room and causing you to turn and face him once your fresh panties are on.

“Get what?”

“Your mine and you always will be, until i say otherwise” he states, shocking you.

“I’m not your property, Ransom”

“Oh but you are, those soaked panties in that hamper prove it. So get used to it, because you’re never leaving me, especially not now”

You’re well and truly fucked... held captive by his intoxicating smell, intimidating demeanour and his undeniable skills in the bedroom.

Guess you should have known from the day you first met Hugh Ransom Drysdale that you’d never make it out alive if you were to run.

But the real question is, do you even want to leave him? He’s everything you detest but still you stay and continue to crave more of him.

And the answer to that question would be no, no you wouldn't want to leave.

He may be a prick, an arrogant asshole and a cocky son of a bitch but he is an addiction...your filthy addiction, and you wouldn’t have it or him any other way.

-------------------------

General Tags: @deadlymistress24 @coffeebooksandfandom @chris-butt @holtzkinnon @mychemicalimagines @llamadelreyx @haus-of-bitch-talk @buckstaybucky @thewinchestergirl1208 @chrissquares @patzammit @dummiesshort @cevans-fics @americasass91 @toni9 @aaliferous @bradfordmyworld @thereisa8ella @candlefics @yassspose @randomsevans @fanficforfun

Just Chris & Characters Tags: @onetwo3000 @sheofthegarden @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @mrsbbarnesrogers @princess-evans-addict @stxvercgersslut @chris-evanslover @bval-1 @thejemersoninferno @denisemarieangelina @janeyboo @evansphnx12 @dwights-new-plague @whxre4cevans @cherry-gemz @chvntelle-99 

LMK if you want to be added to my tag list...

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale x fem!reader #ransom drysdale x female reader #hugh ransom drysdale #knives out #smut #fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans x fem!reader #chris evans x female reader #reader inserts #x fem!reader #x female reader #x reader #request

[nextdoor-neighbors]

Rumors Only Grow (Pt 2)

Link to Part 1!

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Smut; oral (male and female receiving), unprotected sex

A/N: it’s finally here! i know a lot of you guys wanted this so in honor of the twins’ birthday, i finally got around to finishing it. happy birthday to my favorite gingers!

The Room of Requirement had quite the reputation amongst the horny teenagers of Hogwarts. You had always promised yourself that you weren’t going to stoop that low and become that desperate to need the room for a hookup, yet here you are.

As you make your way through the halls and up the stairs, you can’t stop thinking about the events that occurred in the library, reliving the feelings of Fred’s fingers inside of you and George’s mouth on you. Just the memories alone make you wet, as if you aren’t practically dripping already.

You smile and greet a few people on your walk, but thankfully, nobody stops to try and have a conversation with you.

Once you reach the seventh floor, sure enough, there are the doors to the Room of Requirement. The concept of the room amazes you; you and the twins stumbled upon it a few years ago, and it’d become very useful for getaways after pulling pranks on people. Sometimes, it was just a simple broom closet just big enough for the three of you to hide in, away from Filch. Other times, when you had something more elaborate to plan, it looked like a classroom. And as you open the door now, you feel your face turn bright red as you realize it’s taken the appearance of a dorm room, only with one, larger bed, instead of five small ones. No wonder people have used this room so often.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been standing there in awe, gazing around the room, when you here the door open behind you. You jump slighty and turn, the noise loud in the otherwise silent room.

There they are, mischievous grins on their faces as George quietly pushes the door closed.

“Quite the setup you’ve got here, Y/L/N,” Fred says, his gaze panning the room and finally landing on you, slowly looking you up and down, his desire obvious in his eyes. You look over to George, whose expression mirrors his twin’s.

You’re at a loss for words, which is definitely an unusual thing for you; after being friends with the twins for so long, you’d become rather good at quick, witty, and flirty remarks, but right now, your mind was a blank slate.

Thankfully, you don’t have to stand in the awkward, tense silence much longer, because George takes it upon himself to cross the gap between the two of you and cup your face with one hand, running his thumb over your bottom lip. Your breath hitches at the touch and you immediately crave more.

“You were making quite the scene in the library,” he says, quietly, “I’m surprised you didn’t get us caught.”

Fred comes up behind him, carefully watching how you respond to George’s touch.

“Why don’t you take her over to the bed, George? I think she’d be more comfortable there,” Fred says, looking you up and down once more.

“Fantastic idea, Fred. I was thinking exactly the same thing.”

You’re sure that the twins can hear your heart pounding as the three of you make your way over to the bed. You climb on to it, looking over expectantly at the boys, not sure what their plan is.

The twins look at each other until George tilts his head towards you.

“Why don’t you go ahead first, Fred?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Fred replies, and turns to smirk at you. “Lay down for me, darling?”

You obey as he joins you on the bed, positioned on his knees. His fingers slide up your bare legs until they reach the hem of your skirt. He tugs both your skirt and panties down in one motion, tossing them to the side. He eyes between your legs, that damned smirk still on his lips as he wastes no time in sliding two fingers inside of you.

“Fuck,” you hiss at the sensation.

“So wet for us,” Fred murmurs softly, shifting his position so that he can lower his mouth to you. His fingers still inside of you, his tongue starts to circle your clit, and you buck your hips up as you let out a moan, your eyes shutting.

“That’s it, Y/N. We want to hear you.” You open your eyes to see George, who’s now walking around the side of the bed so that he can be closer to you. As he walks, he works at undoing the buckle of his belt, wearing a similar smirk as Fred.

You feel your orgasm building as Fred continues on you with his fingers and mouth, so you let out another moan as you tilt your head back, squeezing your eyes shut again. With your eyes still closed, you feel George taking one of your hands and wrapping it around his dick. You hear his breath hitch at your touch, but you can’t focus on him yet - not when you’re so close to finishing yourself.

“I’m so close,” you whimper, wrapping your other hand in Fred’s hair, but as soon as you speak, Fred reaches up to remove your hand from his hair as he pulls away from you.

Your other hand is still wrapped around George, and he starts to guide your hand up and down.

“Not yet, darling,” Fred says to you. You squeeze your thighs together, craving some sort of relief for yourself as you continue to stroke George, who has taken his own hand away to let you be in control.

Now being able to focus completely on George, you decide to shift your position on the bed, turning on to your side and propping yourself up on your elbow so that you can take his dick into your mouth. He groans loudly, reaching forward to put a hand on the back of your head and wrap his fingers in your hair. He starts thrusting his hips ever so slightly, following your movements so that he goes even deeper into your mouth, causing you to gag.

You swear that you hear the jangling of a belt buckle coming from Fred’s direction, and after another moment of sucking George, you feel Fred’s hands on your legs, moving them apart. Since you’re still laying on your side, he straddles one of your legs, moving the other up so that he position himself correctly, teasing the tip of his dick against your entrance until you can’t take it anymore.

You pull back from George, mostly for air, but also to glance over at Fred to say, “Put it in already.”

He grins. “So impatient, Y/N. But, if you insist.”

Fred grips your hip tightly as he pushes himself into you, both of you groaning in pleasure as he fills you.

You turn your attention back to George, who’s looking down at you with a lust-filled gaze. But instead of letting you be mostly in control this time, he puts his hand on the back of your head to hold you in place as you open your mouth to take him again.

The pleasure and sensations are almost too much to bear: George fucking your mouth while Fred begins to pound in and out of you, both of their moans filling the room. Not long after, George starts to throb in your mouth, and you know that he’s close. After a few more pumps, he releases, and you swallow everything.

“Good girl,” he praises, stepping back and pulling his boxers and pants back up as Fred continues to fuck you. You let your head fall back on the bed, moaning, knowing that you’re close, and that Fred is, too, as his thrusts get less and less controlled.

You finally orgasm hard a few moments later, Fred following your lead, both of you breathing heavily as you pull away from each other. You smile shyly at George, who grins back at you from where he’s standing next to the bed.

“Well,” Fred says, breaking the silence as he pulls his pants back up. George bends over to pick up your skirt and panties, handing them to you. You smile gratefully at him, but you really don’t want to move. You don’t even know if you’ll be able to at all.

“I suppose the rumors are true now,” Fred continues, winking at you. You bite back a grin as you lift your hips to tug your clothes back on.

“I suppose they are,” you answer, “Dare I say that it was a good thing that those rumors were started in the first place?”

“Why’s that, Y/N?” George grins, sharing a mischievous look with his twin.

“Yeah, Y/N,” Fred says, “You think we wouldn’t have ended up doing this eventually anyway?”

You’re not sure how to answer, but hearing Fred say that definitely makes you feel some type of way. George helps you up off the bed, and while your legs are definitely shaky, you can walk - for now, that is.

You walk side by side through the halls headed towards the common room. Fred and George had both assured you more than once before you left the Room of Requirements that it wasn’t too obvious that you been doing what you’d been doing, but then again, it’s not like the rumors haven’t already been going around.

“There you three are!” exclaims Lee Jordan as soon as you walk into the common room. His gaze shifts between the three of you, and he raises his eyebrows. “Where the bloody hell were you?”

You glance up between the twins, who both grin and answer at the same time:

“Homework.”

#weasley twins #weasley twins x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #george weasley #george weasley x reader #fred and george #fred and george weasley #weasley twins fic #weasley twins fanfiction #fred weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfiction #hp fanfiction #harry potter #fred weasley x you #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #fred weasley x y/n

[noritoshiikamo]

worth my time

pairing: noritoshi kamo + fem!oc genre: porn (is fingering enough to call it porn??) without plot ish??? tags//warning: established relationship // slight smut???, fingering, emotional drained reader, reader dated character but then forced into arranged marriage and doubt the whole rs note: unedited, lowercase intended, just me and my nori brainrot dont mind the plotholes and everythingn, its not accurate according to the manga/anime like i just wanna feed myself and i haven't write in ages pls sent some ideas so i can get my lazy brain going, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it  directory: read the first part | second part | third part | bonus

“how long have you known?”

noritoshi shrugged, bringing the cup of tea to his lips. the way he took time to answer her question drove her mad. “noritoshi, how long?” her voice strained. “would it make any difference if i’d known today or 10 years ago?”

her eyes shot wide opened, “10 fucking years?”

a small smile appeared on his lips as he lowered the cup, “hypothetically.” she grabbed one of the pillows from the pile on the bed and threw it to his face, embedded with what little left of her jujutsu power. they have been going on for hours and she was clearly too stubborn to let it go. it was clearly weak; he dodged it with a flick of his wrist switching the pillow’s trajectory. “you’re a fucking asshole,” she gritted through her teeth, falling on bed as wave of anger and sadness crashed through. “you think i wanted an arranged marriage? you think i like having every aspect of my life set since i was a child and scrutinized? i’m a bastard sitting on a throne. unlike you gojou clan, i had it much worst.”

she pulled her hair, fighting the tears that was already streaming down, “it’s not a competition. we are in the same school, i sat next to you for years and you’re telling me you have no idea that i’m your future wife, bullshit!” her eyes flickered as she threw the next close thing within her power’s vicinity; a vase. something hit the vase midway, breaking it into ashes and she watched as a drop of blood stained the floor. he broke it with his power. “you can throw every single thing in this room, y/n, but it doesn’t stop the fact that we are already married.” it was that one sentence that completely broke her. falling on her knees, she let a cry out, clutching on her chest as she cried to her heart’s content. this can’t be happening to me, no, no, no, her mind echoed as she forced herself to surrender to the fact that they are married. it’s not something easy to undo. it pained him to see her like this, but his wife needs to understand that he could do nothing about it. she cried for what seems to be like hours, the sleeves of her yukata wet from the tears and sweat. she fell on the floor to her knees, resting her body against the bed before finally looking up to meet her husband’s eyes. he could see defeat in her tired eyes. “we dated each other,” she sniffled, “was that real or was it just you scouting for your future wife?” her words sound like venom to him “i know you won’t believe me, but it was real. i would still marry you even if the marriage isn’t arranged.” noritoshi stood up, his barefoot echoed on the floor as he walked to his weakened wife. her body was hot, he suspected the skipping (refusing to eat) meals, raging and throwing tantrums after another had put her body in so much stress. he reached for the sash, trying to undo her yukata and she freaked out. grabbing his wrist, she shook her head, “what are you doing?” she asked shakily. “would you listen to me for once? you need a cold shower, you’re burning up, it would help.” she stopped fighting. his tone was a mixed of annoyance and tired. dating him made her realized that noritoshi has a high level of patience; but not right now. letting go of his wrist, she slipped the yukata off her shoulder herself, whined about how she disliked cold shower below her breath. he wore a small smile as he hoisted the naked girl up. it’s a small victory on noritoshi the husband, he’ll savor it for now. 

the girl kneeled on the floor of the shower as noritoshi slowly ran the shower head slowly up her body. her arms wrapped tightly against her chest; she cursed every time the cold water reached new part of her body. ignoring the fact that his yukata was getting wetter, he kneeled behind her and let her rest her back against his chest. with the shower gel, his body froze every time she whined at his touch. something about the way she whined under his touches made him weak. he wants to kiss her stupid face so badly. “it’s cold,” she mumbled, her eyes closed as he ran his palm against her stomach. he pressed a kiss on the side of her face, “better?” he asked as his hand travelled lower. her eyes widened. he continued his kisses, down her jawline and her neck, bruising every spot as his fingers traced a lazy circle on her clit. she moaned out a throaty yes. he continued to whisper sweet nothings into her ears, promises of how he would take care of her, how he’s going to be a perfect husband, how she would be a perfect wife, how they’ll live happily together. she nodded her head in delirium, the pleasure of his fingers had her grinding her back on his crotch and emptying her thoughts. she could barely think straight. “tell me you’re mine,” he commanded, slipping a finger inside, “i can take care of you, baby,” her eyes rolled back, his words were not helping, it was just pure gasoline thrown into a burning fire. “nori, i want to cum,” she muttered, clutching desperate on the now two fingers. she felt his warm breath on the crook where her shoulder meet her neck, his fangs brushing threateningly against the sensitive skin. “open your mouth,” he urged, she whined at the lost feeling of his lips on her neck. she felt something dripping between her lips, his thumb brushing the lower lip. it painted her lips red. it tasted metallic, almost like a blood. it was his. he watched in satisfaction as his blood marking appeared on her right eye. he can control her blood, heightened her senses, throwing her body’s sensitivity off the wall, driving her off the edge with every spot of her body he touches; it sends pleasure twice as much. it wasn’t long until her velvety wall spasmed around his fingers. her body jolted forward; her shaky hands pressed against the wet tile preventing her from falling face first as orgasm washes out. she could barely make any noises, her throat was so dry, she felt like it might bleed.   she won’t deny that the orgasm eased her pain, but she would deny if he dared brought it up; he would not get the pleasure of knowing she enjoyed that.

his palm brushed against her thigh, causing her to look up. he raised his eyebrows in question which she brushed it off with a nod. she grabbed his hand and steadied herself up.

“i’m okay,” she voiced out.

he undressed, continued their shower from square one. they’ve done this before; sharing shower after mission washing blood off each other but this time, it feels different. she sighed at the pleasure, letting her hands rest against his toned chest. we are married, the sentence echoed in her mind as he massaged the shampoo on her head. never ever she thought that this is how she’ll be married. it’s not like she dreamed of a huge wedding. he did throw a small gathering, respecting her boundaries and her anxiety but everything just moved so fast. her parents are dead, her only remaining family is satoru, a distant cousin who finds it a no issue for her to marry her boyfriend. it is not an issue for her to marry noritoshi kamo, she loves him so much, but not like this.   she wished she had more choices in this.   he hummed a song, a habit of his that he caught from his mother, a lullaby his mother always sings. she wanted to hate him so much, for befriending her, making her fall in love with him and then forced her into a marriage. but when she opened her eyes and stared up into his, to see such loving look in his eyes, it weakened her. her heart is a wreck. “why do you do this to me?” she whimpered, slamming her fist into his chest. he refused to answer.

she was tired of his silence.

he turned the shower off, opening the glass door letting waft of cold air out. he left to fetch her towel and she stalked toward the nearby mirror. “how long until the thing wears off?” she asked when she caught a glimpse of herself. she reached to touch the blood marking on her eyes. he wrapped the towel around her body, hugging her from behind and through the foggy mirror, he brushed his thumb on her cheek, whispered something she couldn’t catch as the mark subsided.

“this doesn’t change the fact that i’m mad at you.”

he laughed it off, “i didn’t say it does. you always feel better post orgasm, you know how i know it?” he kissed her temple, eyes burned into hers, “because i dated you.”

her teeth gritted in annoyance.

“you think if i dated you to scout my future wife, i wouldn’t waste my time learning how your body responds to me, the way you yearn for me,” a kiss fell on her neck, “learn how well you control your shikigami and goes through lengths to teach you how to use my bow,” another kiss went up her jaw, “teach you my own blood techniques because god, why jujutsu needs to be such an exclusive thing,” arms went around her waist, “worried sick every single time utahime send you off for a mission, taking care of your wounds, being there to catch your reckless ass,” his breath lingered on her ears, “completely falling in love with you wholeheartedly for 3 years. i’d abandoned my father’s choice. you are arranged to be my wife, on my own accord. i choose you. you weren’t my father’s choice, but even in million years, even if sukuna’s vessel reincarnated again and again, even if the world split open and sent you miles away, even if i’m not the head of kamo clan,” his hand grabbed her chin, hard and forced her to meet his eyes, his words send shivers down her spine, “i would still choose you.”

she’s completely putty in his hand. she let out a soft whine as his body abandoned her, his warmth gone and came the cold biting her bare skin. her eyes followed the back of the man as he stalked to the wardrobe leaving the girl alone to ponder on his words.

“now, wouldn’t it just be a waste of my time, my wife?”

#okay im done loool #noritoshi kamo #kamo noritoshi #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #noritoshi kamo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #idk what tag more lol #noritoshi smut #noritoshi x reader #jjk smut #writing: fics

[besotted-eros]

Promotion

Armin x f!reader

18+

Content: Dom!Armin, degradation, dirty talk, deep throating, face fucking, light bondage, Armin loves calling you pet names, power dynamics, slight exhibitionism, degradation, spanking, oral (giving and receiving), unprotected sex, slight bimbofication, corruption kink, losing virginity

Made to be a soldier.

That's how they describe you, your superior officers and your comrades. You had sought out the scouts the earliest that you could, desperate to find your place among the ranks. And you moved well within them, soon becoming one of the elite of your regiment.

All the better, as it made it easier for you to catch his eye.

You had taken his orders for two years now, after his return from Marley and immediate promotion to commande, passed through section commanders and leaders. But the first time he saw you, Armin's words died on his lips.

"Her name." He asked, gesturing towards you discreetly. You were standing in salute, hand curved over your heart and back straight.

"Y/n, sir." His assistant responded.

Armin liked how it sounded. It was a name he could see himself murmuring in the moonlight, against your soft skin. "And how is she?"

"She hasn't seen anything action wise, not many of them have. But she's one of the highest ranked." Armin could have told him that. It was the way your eyes were still bright and soft, the innocence still hung about you.

He wanted it.

"She'll be in my squad starting tomorrow. Let her know. She'll take dinner with me tonight.

You sat on the edge of the couch, fidgeting with the pleats in your pants. Your head was still spinning, waking up this morning as any other grunt and by the evening being told you were meeting with Commander Armin to be inducted into his personal squadron. You had always admired the man, with his elegant and soft way of speaking and his kind azure eyes. And his mind. To think that that mind decided on you. It was an honour.

"Ah, y/n." The warm voice greeted you from the opening doors. He stood to the entrance to his private quarters, and behind him you could see an intimate set up for the aforementioned dinner. You jumped up, pounding your hand to your chest.

"Sir, commander Armin sir! Thank you so much for this promotion, I will aspire to live up to the standards that the scouts have set, I will-" You launched into the ramble quickly, voice raised and cheeks bright with flush. His delicate features lifted into an even warmer smile as he crossed the room, hand extended.

"Shh, enough of that. You're a bright soldier, I'd be an idiot not to pick you." His eyes ran across your body, almost blatantly. He must have been sizing your physique, judging how strong you were. You raised your chin, clasping his hand firmly. His skin was calloused, years of war and hard work. It offset the softness in his eyes. You were at once comfortable, allowing him to pull you by your hand towards him.

Armin moved to touch the collar of your shirt. It didn't lay as flat as his did, and he adjusted it familiarly. His head dipped towards your neck, inhaling the soft scent of soap and perfume. He hummed softly in his throat before smiling again.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, lifting your hand to his mouth. He pressed a chivalrous kiss to your skin that made your eyes widen.

You hadn't realised he was inquiring for more than just food. But your mouth was full now anyway, his pretty pink cock buried to the hilt down your throat.

He stared at you with those kind blue eyes, shadowed with a perverted lust. His once soft hands were a vice in your hair, guiding your novice mouth further down. In his over sized armchair his hips bucked, attempting to press further and further into your hot wet throat. Your fingers scrabbled at his thighs as your eyes welled with tears, making the mascara you had borrowed from your bunkmate run.

"Shh, pretty thing. That's it. Need to teach you this don't I?" He whispered, brushing one of your black tears away. "Breathe through your nose. Don't you dare pull away." He grunted, moving both hands to hold you in place. Beside you the fire flickered, casting shadows on the untouched meal. You had barely gotten past drinks when you had noticed the bulge in his pants, and how his smile widened when he realised you couldn't keep your eyes away from it. He had asked another question, politely inquiring about your physical test scores while he undid his belt. Your voice had faltered and Armin's brow furrowed.

"I asked you a question."

So you answered dutifully, words tumbling from your mouth as you watched his slender fingers wrap themselves around his already swollen shaft. It suited him, long and delicate, with veins that matched the blue of his eyes. It was no wonder you were more than ready when he asked you to take it in your mouth.

And now you were drooling over it, heaving breaths through your nose to ensure he remained completely sheathed in your throat.

"Have you done this before? Or are you just made to be a whore?" He purred, slowly pulling his hips back. You shook your head as best as you could, gasping when his cockhead popped from your lips.

"N-never." You choked out, coughing slightly. Armin's eyes flashed as he violently thrust forward again, sending himself straight down your throat. You gagged slightly but caught yourself, your nails digging into his thighs through the expensive fabric of his pants.

"So you're just a natural, hmm? Such a pretty innocent face, but you're made for such depraved things..." He gathered your hair slowly as he spoke, gently stroking it to the top of your head and Twisting it into a bun. You melted into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed at his caresses. He waited till you were disarmed, soft and pliable. And then he leaned back, gripping onto your hair and using it as purchase to begin thrusting down your throat. He panted loudly, eyes glazing with pleasure as he fucked into your mouth. You whined with pleasure when you could, struggling to catch your breath as he used you, holding you still while his hips met your met over and over. You felt his heavy balls slap against your chin, felt the brush of his soft blonde hair, kept trimmed and neat. But all you could do was feel yourself grow more and more wet, more and more desperate for this sweet faced commander and his dark wants.

"I'm going to cum down your throat, okay pretty whore? Don't you dare waste a drop, understand?"

He was leaned forward now, pushing and pulling your head rhythmically. You whimpered, fingers gripping his pants as you looked up to him, those innocent wide eyes bleary with tears. And that was enough to push him over.

With a final gasp he shoved you down, groaning his relief as he unloaded shot after shot of hot white cum straight down your throat. You were true to your word, swallowing every drop as tears fell freely from your face, and your hand pressed desperately between your legs.

He collapsed back, his chest surging as he watched you catch your breath.

"What a good little thing you are. You'll be such a perfect addition to my squad. I've needed a whore for a while now." He commented, pulling you to stand. You were dazed, holding onto his arms as he held you against him. He crooned softly as you swayed, his hands moving down to grope your ass brazenly. "So fucking tight, let me see it." He panted. It made your head spin to hear the perverse growl in his voice, so in contrast with his innocent blue eyes and halo of blonde hair.

He pushed you back slightly, making you stumble. You caught yourself and began to undo your buckle as he ran his fingers through his hair, eyes glued to your hands as you began to push the garment down. You had worn your prettiest panties, not knowing what compelled you. But it seemed worth it now as Armin's eyes lit up at the soft white satin and lace. He let out a deep groan, pulling you violently to him to set his lips crashing against yours. One hand held you in place as the other made contact with your mound, stroking your heat through the fabric. You moaned into his mouth and it encouraged him, the heel of his palm grinding against your throbbing clit as his fingers manipulated your soaked lips, pushing and pulling the fabric against your slick.

With a quick movement he had spun you around, sending you rocking back into the armchair. You didn't have time to get comfortable as he dragged your hips forward, calloused hands forcing your knees up and apart.

"Look at you, wetting yourself so early into the evening. You really are desperate aren't you?" He murmured, the tip of his nose trailing up the soaked satin. He inhaled loudly, making you whimper and try to pull back.

"S-sir," you gasped and he grinned malevolently, rubbing his nose against you even harder, parting your lips under the panties.

"You shy now? You let me cum down your throat and now you're shy?" He murmured, hot breath sending shivers reverberating through your body. His tongue flattened against the crotch and he dragged it up languidly, taking his sweet time making your toes curl. He slowed even further over your clit, knowing exactly where you needed him most and denying you it. He watched your face, eyes dancing with cruel delight as you whined your frustration, lifting your hips to him.

"Needy little whore." He whispered, bottom lip dragging against your throbbing button. "Normally I don't treat little whores so good yet, but you're so pretty I'll make an exception if you show me your breasts."

There was no thought of denying him. Your blouse was off within seconds, your bra thrown over the back of the armchair. Your hard nipples pebbled even further in the cold air, and Armin stared slackjawed for a moment. Your body, spread out bare infront of him in the hues of gold from the fire. Finally something to render the quick witted man speechless.

But only for a moment.

He all but attacked your cloth covered pussy, slurping and suckling at every part of it and soaking the fabric completely through. Your body writhed and whimpered on the chair, legs on his shoulders and hands in his straw coloured hair. It drove you crazy, to feel the outline of his tongue push satin into your aching hole, having it tighten over nothing in desperation.

Before you could beg for him to rip them off of you, he was standing, revealing his erect dick already dripping precum.

"Turn around and hold the back of the chair, sweet thing." He said, voice a soft velvet. You could hear the sound of his hand jerking his cock, and it was even sweeter than his voice. You scrambled up, turning over in the grand seat to hold onto the worn damask.

He hummed low in his throat for a moment before stepping back. There was the sound of shuffling and the familiar clink of your belt buckle. His firm hands came forth, guiding your arms back while he cooed about soft your skin was. The leather slid over your wrists and was tightened carefully. It felt like a perverse bracelet, rendering you even more vulnerable than you had been. Your face leaned into the upholstery now, and you smelled his cologne on it.

"Much better." He purred, fingers soft on your hips for a moment. His hands trailed towards your ass, squeezing the cheeks fondly before one pulled back, delivering a sharp slap that made you cry out. That drove him forward, yanking your panties down now so he could strike your bare skin. He paused to watch a stringy drip of your arousal fall from your warm lips. Your pussy was drooling for him.

He had planned to tease you, to fuck himself between those plush thighs until he was soaked with you, till you were begging for him to slide in. But you made that impossible.

You didn't have time to process his head at your entrance before he began pressing in, stretching your virgin hole to suit him. A low, drawn out gasp pulled itself from the depths of your throat and he leaned forward, fingers now digging into the skin of your hips.

"Breathe through it, come on. You're a soldier aren't you? Gotta learn to take a little bit of pain." He dropped his honeyed words against your shoulder, teeth dragging across your muscles. You inhaled sharply before hissing through your teeth. He purred his approval, massaging your skin as his long shaft pushed its way in. He waited until your breathing steadied, watching the parts of your face that he could see carefully.

"Tell me you're ready, pretty girl." He asked, hand moving to your bound hands. His fingers played with yours, waiting until you nodded.

And then, you were his.

He pulled back carefully before snapping forward, sending you pushing into the cushions. You gasped at the sensation, the feeling of your innermost walls being touched and rubbed against.

"Fuck, such a good little virgin hole. All mine, only me." Armin grunted, thrusting again. His normally perfectly set hair was now in disarray. You whined at the sound of his voice, and his lips curled prettily. "I can already tell what you want, it's so obvious."

He leaned back slightly, his pace picking up as his large hands guided you back and forth on his shaft. Your ass jiggled every time it met his well formed stomach, soft gasps with every impact. They only increased in volume as he picked up speed, muscles in his legs tensing and low groans filling the air. The sound of his pleasure was intoxicating mixed with the slaps of his balls against you, and the lewd squelching of your pretty pussy.

"You just want to be fucked dumb don't you? Pretty, smart little soldier wants to give everything up for her commander hmm? Bet you don't wanna be in my squad, you wanna be my little bed maid don't you?" He hissed through gritted teeth, placing a foot on the chair to give himself better depth. The tip of his cock pressed pre-cum soaked kisses to your cervix and your back arched, fingers flexing and wrists writhing against the bounds.

"C-commander!" You managed to squeak out and he moan loudly in response, delivering another sharp slap to your ass. This only made you more wild, struggling to look over your shoulder at the state he was putting your pussy in. His cock filled you perfectly, expertly dragging against your walls, putting your weak fingers to shame. You don't know how you would ever please yourself on anything else ever again, you thought as his head leaned back, face contorted in pleasure.

The heat was mounting, growing higher and higher in your stomach and chest. Armin could feel it, the way your walls clenched at him, fluttering in pleasure. Your fingers flexed and he ran his hands up and down your arms, loving your inability to move them.

"Oh fuck, pretty thing is gonna cum so soon? Yeah? Gonna cream on my big cock, baby?" He hissed, reaching forward to grab your hair. Now your entire body was being moved, bouncing against him like a toy. You could do nothing but babble your response, almost cross eyed from the immense pleasure that every single moment sent through you. Your breasts bounced under you, rubbing against the rough fabric, only adding to the symphony of exctasy that Armin was gifting to you.

"Fucking do it. That's an order, whore. Cum on this c-cock." His stammer slipped through as he bottomed out in you time and time again, your plush walls milking his raw cock.

And you have always been such a good soldier. You were made for this, weren't you?

You came, waves of pleasure making your vision explode into a kaleidoscope. Your pussy clenched onto Armin, a last entreatment for his hot load. And he obliged, letting out a loud gasp and low groan of your name as he pumped you full of his seed, collapsing against you for a moment. He held you tight to him, murmuring soft praise as his cock plugged you shut, letting his cum paint your walls.

He didn't have time to rest, his lips just finding the back of your neck before there was a knock at the door. With an annoyed sigh Armin straightened, adjusting his pants and combing his hair back into place.

"Come in." He called out, his voice cool and composed. His assistant opened the door, eyes landing on your gaping pussy, Armin's cum drooling from your lips. Your eyes were glazed over, staring unseeingly at the wall as your cheek rested against the back of the chair. You were blissed out, still recovering from your earth shattering orgasm. Not an unfamiliar sight in this room

"Some forms for you, Commander." The assistant said, walking over to hand the man a pen and binder. "Oh! Y/n, hello." The assistant smiled warmly, but he was unsure if you noticed. Armin tried to contain his smirk.

"Welcome to the squad."

#[ 🎞️ ] — anihaven #⚔️ — the titan warriors #aot #attack on titan imagine #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #armin smut #armin arlert #armin x y/n #armin arlet x y/n #armin arlet smut #armin arlet x you #armin arlet imagines #armin x you #aot reader insert #aot smut #snk smut #smut #my ink

[itgirlification]

supermodel (3) | jjk

when you asked jungkook to come over, you didn’t expect it to end this way.

pairing: ex-bf!jk x thick!reader

warnings: unprotected sex, spitting, face slapping, spanking, etc.

now playing: stuck on you by giveon

part one part two

“I just didn't feel like you were ready for a relationship. You still aren’t.”, He said. “Not ‘cause you’re a bad girlfriend, it's because you’re so bad to yourself.”

After the party, you decided to message Jungkook and ask him to come over to talk things through, since there was too much between you unanswered. Now that’s exactly what you’d been doing for the past 15 minutes.

You admired his honesty even though it hurt you.

You were about to open your mouth, but Jungkook made a hand motion to let you know he wasn’t finished talking.

“Do you know how I felt when you always looked down on yourself, always picking fights because you’re too damn insecure to realize that I was only looking at you?”

You looked at him, wondering if he was expecting you to answer so you just shook your head no. You didn’t know how he felt.

Throughout the entire timeline of your relationship, he hadn’t even tried to tell you he was feeling like this once.

Jungkook sighed, clearly not trying to hurt you with what was going to come. “It just made you hard to love. I didn't feel fully loved in our relationship, because if you had so many issues loving yourself, how were you supposed to love me?”

Realizing you’ve never thought about it in that way, you made an astounding facial expression, before finally talking. “But we aren't the same, Jungkook. You’re so easy to love. But I’m not. I’m flawed and I don't think I deserve to have you in any way. Please don’t think I never loved you. It hurts me.”

He jabbed his cheek with his tongue and gazed at you in disbelief. “You missed my point. I’m telling you, you shouldn't be looking for a relationship if you can’t love yourself first.”

Now you were getting a little irritated at him. “Well, that’s easier said than done. You don’t understand what it feels like having people constantly body shame you and having a conventionally attractive partner and people telling you you’re too ugly for them, you don’t deserve them. You don’t get it, because you are the attractive one in the relationship.”

With his clenched jaw and the tightened expression on his face, you knew Jungkook wasn’t having it. “Oh, you know that’s a typical move for you, yn. You love victimizing yourself and being blind to your own faults, acting like everybody else around is doing everything wrong when you don’t even let them express their honest feelings to you. You’re unbearable to talk to, you know that?”

“Of course, I am. Because I’m confessing my fears and my vulnerability to you it’s hard talking to me, right? Like I didn’t spend a total of like what, a year? listening to your sob stories about your childhood trauma and your daddy issues and your drug problems and I didn’t even say a thing about it. I never complained.”, you hollered at him, unfortunately, your anger was getting the best of you.

You were aware of the fact that you shouldn’t have mentioned your ex-boyfriend’s childhood, let alone his unhealthy relationship with drugs. You knew it was his weak spot, but you did it out of anger, you couldn’t control it.

You remembered the first time Jungkook teared up in front of you while talking about how his father mistreated and abuse him and his mum and how he started abusing drugs at the age of 16.

“Jungkook..”, you moved closer to him after noticing his silence, trying to put a hand over his shoulder. He rejected you by shaking your hand off.

“Nah, don’t ‘Jungkook’ me, you know what you did, don’t try blaming it on the fact that you’re mad at me right now.”, He hissed with flaring nostrils. “That’s what you’ve been wanting to tell me ever since I opened up to you, don’t lie.”

You felt deeply ashamed of the fact that you were getting aroused at the side of this messed-up Jungkook who was standing right in front of you.

Despite your arousal, your ex-boyfriend’s statement had hurt your feelings. You didn't want him thinking that of you, you wanted him to know you supported him and wanted to be his shoulder to cry on. For him to know he could always call you.

“Jungkook, that's not true at all”, your voice softened and you sat yourself on one of his thick thighs, gently taking his face into your hands. “You know I love you and I’m just frustrated, that’s the only reason why I said that. You can talk to me about anything.”

You started to lightly grind against his thigh, contemplating whether you wanted him to notice or you didn’t.

Jungkook started chuckling as he felt your pulse on his thigh. “You know sex isn't gonna solve all of our problems, right?”

His demeanor always changed when he'd notice you were needy. One thing about your relationship you never complained about was your sex life.

“I know, but it would solve a lot of them right now”, you breathed out, grabbing a handful of his dick, making him hiss.

“I don't think you deserve dick after what you said.”, Jungkook looked at you with a serious gaze. “Stand up.”

You were confused at his sudden demand but obeyed regardless.

“Now lay on my lap, facing down.”, He demanded again and you did as he said.

Not knowing what was going to happen, you were just all up in his lap, trying to figure out what he was going to do. Your hair was wild as it went in all directions, while you were bent over.

Before you knew it, a firm hand was applied to your backside, giving it an unexpected slap. “I think you've been getting a little brave these days, hm?”

“Wha.. what do you mean?”, you sounded like you were gasping for air.

“Already outta breath when I barely touched you, huh?”, he chuckled at your desperate state before dragging his big hand along your ass cheek, teasing you before applying pressure and spanking it, causing it to jiggle. You loudly groaned at that.

“Shush, you’re lucky I’m only using my hand and not this belt.”, Jungkook said with a daring stare.

Your face felt flush and the burn you felt on your ass started getting pleasurable. You wondered what you looked like to Jungkook, bent over his knees like that. His spanks were getting heavier with every passing one.

“Jungkook, it hurts so bad”, you whined to him, your face burning.

He inhaled sharply and you assumed he was mad at you. “Didn't I tell you to shut up? Look at me.”

You turned your head to him, sitting on one of his thighs, which caused your ass to burn even more. Jungkook then cupped your cheeks rather harshly, collected enough saliva in his mouth, and spat on your face.

You bit back a moan, slightly startled. Jungkook always wanted sex to be as messy as possible.

He finally took off his shirt, revealing the tattoos that you loved so much. You started touching them, but Jungkook slapped your hand away and smacked you across your face.

You felt overheated by the intensity, also releasing yourself from your shirt, your black lace bra, and your tits spilling out of it. Jungkook thought it was a beautiful sight.

“I hate you”, you whispered stilly, feeling hazy.

Jungkook chuckled darkly. “Sweetheart, you might wanna speak up. Say that again for me.”

“I hate you for always making me feel like shit.”, you said dizzily as you adjusted yourself on his lap. He held your body effortlessly like you were a feather’s weight.

You started making out sloppily, not without him letting out small moans into your mouth that directly sent waves of arousal through your body.

“I hate you for always starting arguments and playing the victim.”, He breathed out between kisses, hands resting on your ass.

“I hate you for replacing me with that model when you know damn well where you belong.”

The make-out session became more intense with every second.

“I fucking hate you for thinking everything I do is to hurt you.”, he growled against your mouth, making a moan leave your mouth.

“Well, I fucking hate you f-“, you were about to come back at him, but he breathlessly interrupted.

“Shut up”, he groaned into your ear before shoving a hand between your legs and rubbing you.

The frustration in your body built up. “Jungkook, I need you..”

“Where do you need me?”, teasingly, he took his hands away from your pussy. “C’mon, use your big girl words.”

“Inside...”, you felt too dazed to complete a sentence. Jungkook’s hard dick under you was just adding to your frustration.

Before you knew it, he pushed your back onto the bed and ran his hands through his longer black hair before undoing the buttons on his black jeans and taking them off along with the shorts, and leaning forward to kiss you, his strong arms flexing as he did.

He lifted you up and you hook your legs around his small waist, still kissing him. He ran his tongue over your lips after biting them.

After gently throwing you onto the bed, Jungkook laid back and sat you down on his stomach.

You moved southwards and sank down onto his dick, moving back and forth, Jungkook watching his dick disappear into your body. To enhance things, he pulled your hips down a little harder.

Your heavy breathing and the occasional moans that left both of your mouths spread throughout the whole dorm. The pleasure was so intense, you couldn’t talk anymore. You were digging your long nails into his broad shoulders and his back. You were sure it left marks, but you couldn’t care to think about it.

Jungkook leaned in for another kiss, brushing your lips together and sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. “Fuuck, I missed this.”

You kept on going back and forth and bouncing up and down on his dick. The two of you were out of breath.

His dick was buried deep inside of you as he thrusted in and out of your pussy, your hips met and you dug your nails in his back, losing your rhythm as both of your climaxes approached.

Hips stuttering as he fucked into you while your vision faded into black, time slowed just like his thrusts.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.”, Jungkook warned beforehand in a grunt.

You nodded, indicating you’re cumming too. “Cum inside.”

He initiated eye contact with you to make sure you weren’t just saying that. You nodded.

Your eyes rolled back as you felt his warm liquid enter your body and fire pooling low in your abdomen from your own orgasm.

Positioning yourself on the bed, you stayed there with Jungkook in pleasant silence for a bit.

After a minute or two, the both of you had the energy to stand up again. You freshened up, then made your way to your bed, not before changing the sheets, of course.

Jungkook was in the bathroom for a few minutes, later then got out only wearing his shorts, leaving the rest of his clothes on your pile of dirty clothes you were gonna wash the next day.

“Goodnight.”, Jungkook pressed a loving kiss to your forehead, before jumping into the bed with you, covering his body with the blanket and scooping closer to you.

“You aren’t leaving?”, you tiredly croaked at him with big eyes to which he shook his head no and snuggled closer to you.

Your heart fluttered more with every second that passed. “Goodnight, Jungkook.”

You knew that once you’d wake up and once she’d see you with Jungkook, a loud, disappointed Jane will be heard through the whole apartment complex. But you were too tired to care.

And lastly, when you fall onto the bed and peacefully fall asleep in his strong arms, you weren’t bothered by what's to come.

And so, the cycle continues.

_

taglist: @taeisbae13 @queenmasterxx @jkbangtan7 @jenotation @complicatedjules @gee-nee @tokyorm @yoonievrse @ggukkieland @laurynne5 @miinoongi @kb-bangtanenthusiast @1-in-abillion @sarcasmflowsinmyveins @madygswich @chieftoadturkeynickel @pjmnoir

Thank you everybody for your support. I’m sorry it took such a long time but i got school and stuff. I thought it’d give jungkook at least one redeeming quality so this part wasn’t so depressing. Hope yall like it🖤🖤

#jungkook #jungkook smut #bts #bts fic #bangtan smut #bts smut #jk smut #jk imagine #jeongguk #jeongguk imagine #jeongguk smut #jeongguk fanfiction #jeongguk x reader #taehyung smut #jimin smut #hoseok smut #yoongi smut #seokjin smut #namjoon smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x female reader #thick thighs save lives

[bloomyagi]

beautiful, beloved, mine (m)

summary: you set him ablaze. he can only hope you like watching him burn for you. alternatively: this love for you is consuming him, and it all comes out in a badly vomited confession after he corners you at a gala.

pairings: shouto todoroki x f!reader

genre: pro heroes au, characters are aged up 20+

warnings: smut, dry humping, shouto comes in his pants, sub!shouto, he’s a good boi for you, he loves you very much n wants to be your baby

length: 2,447

notes: can u tell how much i love him pls -

.

.

.

“Can I be yours?”

Shouto Todoroki, ranked third pro-hero in Japan, has his strong arms braced around your head. In all your years of friendship, he has never been anything but exceedingly polite. He is well-behaved, thoughtful and sharp. He is guarded, though not intentionally, not anymore—it is reflex, a shield he has never really learned to lower. A reminder of his childhood.

You think he’s drunk. He must be, beautiful dual-coloured locks dishevelled, black button-up half-open and exposing his gorgeous collarbone. You watch, unwittingly, as a bead of sweat trickle down his neck. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, biceps flexing.

The dimmed lighting unfairly accosts you with his devastatingly handsome features and muscular body. And his eyes. His heterochromatic eyes are alight with something fierce and intense. They are also clear, glowing, almost, in the dark.

The two of you are somehow on the balcony, shut away from the rest of the world, the bass and the sounds of life fading in your little bubble until all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears, the warmth of his breath, the heat of skin and the fluttering of your heart in your throat. The cement wall digs into your back.

No, you correct yourself. He isn’t drunk. He’s barely tipsy. He doesn’t like to drink, rarely acquiesces to Kirishima’s insistence of shots.

He doesn’t smell like alcohol. His scent has always been calming, detectable under the thin layer expensive cologne he uses—he doesn’t like perfumed smells either, only uses it on nights like these, when he’s obliged to look the part—that fresh, cool scent. Of clean sheets, laundry detergent.

Still, this is out of character. Todoroki has never once crossed a line with you, with anyone. He’s quiet, reserved, though he smiles more now, the forming dimples in the corner of his eyes a living testament to his character growth. He treats others fairly. He is not unkind, honest and straight-forward. He is many things, and with the way he’s gazing down at you now, you are suddenly reminded of Midoriya’s hushed remarks earlier.

“You can’t see it, but Todoroki-kun treats you differently. He thinks about you, what you’d like and what you like. He cares about you so he’s careful around you. He wants to cherish you. He’s cold because he uncertain. He doesn’t know what to do. This is all new to him.”

“What is?”

The number one pro-hero had looked at you strangely. “Being in love.”

Midoriya is indisputably Todoroki’s best friend. Still, his actions are baffling. Why you? Why now? No, you couldn’t see it at all.

“Todoroki, are you drunk?”

“No. Though I required a little … liquid courage, as they say,” he rasps. He’s so close. His voice, so deep and husky, has you biting your lower lip. His gaze falls immediately.

He doesn’t touch you. The way his arms flex, hands clenching and unclenching, and his stiff posture tells you he wants to. He’s visibly restraining himself. Waiting, watching. Hoping.

“You never … why me?” You say softly.

“I could not. I wanted to, so badly. I have always wanted you. I always thought it was impossible for someone like me—to find someone I would want to share my life with, given my upbringing and dysfunctional family. But then things changed, got better, and then I met you.” He takes a shaky breath.

“I found wordless comfort in your mere presence. I found I could be emboldened, empowered, changed by your words. Every day I wondered how I could be worthy of you—if I could ever be worthy of you. Then I realized it was you … it would not matter to you, so long as I was honest with who I was. That is just the kind of person you are …” He shuts his eyes. His lashes are so long, you note absently.

“I am touched by your existence … I find joy in your spirit, yearning for your embrace, for the heat of your skin pressed against mine, I crave it … these foreign desires, they elicit something dark within myself,” he continues, breathing a little ragged now.

“This need, this desperation, like fire spreading in my veins, uncontrollable and hungry … I feel restless, itching for something, someone … Now I finally understand. I feel like I want to—to devour you. It is no longer enough, seeing you as I do, being as we are, mere friends … I want more, need more. With this desire to monopolize, I fear I have become … insatiable,” he trails off, turning his face to the side in shame.

Oh. Shouto Todoroki is in love with you, you realize with a jolt. He longs for you. For your companionship, your wit, your soul and your body. Your heart.

You reach up with a trembling hand to touch his jaw, guiding him until he looked at you once more. He doesn’t resist, pliant and eager as he leans into your hold.

“Only if I can be yours in return,” you say.

He lurches forward, knees nearly giving out as he slumps in your arms. “Oh, thank god, I … I was anxious I would have ruined everything. I knew it was unlikely they would be reciprocated, but I—I had to try,” he gasps. “This desire, it was consuming me.”

“Todoroki …” You thumb his cheekbone. He sighs faintly, body curving over yours as he presses close. “Call me Shouto, please …”

“Shouto.” He makes a strangled noise.

“Again. Please. You must understand, I have longed for this for so long …” He pleads shyly.

“Shouto,” you whisper, stroking his cheek. He’s so unexpectedly adorable. So, so adorable.

“My apologies, darling. I know I’m taking liberties, but I’m weak … I’m not strong enough to resist such temptation. Not while you are here, in front of me like nights when I dared to dream… So beautiful.” He nuzzles your palm.

You flush at his term of endearment, at the rawness of his tone. He has laid himself bare, singing his truth like a Shakespeare sonnet.

“You woo me like you’re waxing poetry … does this often work with others?” You murmur. You think you’re in real danger of melting.

His eyes fly open in alarm. “No. Never. It has only ever been you. I speak only from the heart, I have never—never done this before, am I explaining myself poorly? I am often told my words could use some more tact …”

Your heart swells.

“I’m just teasing, Shouto,” you say softly, combing a hand through his locks apologetically. “Your words are beautiful, I’m touched, truly.”

He relaxes, curling closer in your embrace.

“You don’t know … how I dream of building a home with you, of sharing all my firsts with you, cooking and setting the table with you … breakfast after long nights, filling the space between us with laughter and joy. Sleeping next to you,” he slurs. And then he goes on plainly, “How I fist myself every night thinking of the swell of your hips, the curl of your lips, your sweet, enthralling scent …”

You inhale sharply. Part of you is entirely taken back by the dual-haired hero’s use of uncharacteristically vulgar descriptions. His words drip over you like a honeyed aphrodisiac. Sweet and addictive.

“May I?” He draws closer, hands releasing you to brace against the concrete behind. Your body shivers involuntarily, missing the heat of his palms immediately.

“Yes,” you whisper.

Shouto dips his head, beautiful heterochromatic eyes watching you carefully for any sign of hesitation or indication you wanted to stop. Ever the gentleman.

This is who he is, you realize. Respectful of your boundaries, honest and, with you, gentle. He eyes flutter close when his lips touch yours. They’re warm, sweet with a hint of the alcohol he consumed earlier. Your fingers bury themselves in his locks, the kiss unhurried, savouring each moment.

Then you open your mouth, tongue touching his. And Shouto falters. He groans throatily, your nose tickling at the scent of ash. Ah. He’s losing control. He jerks away quickly, right hand enclosing over his left.

“Don’t tempt me,” he rasps, blush rising.

You snag the rumpled collar of his shirt, pulling him close. “Kiss me again.”

And when you guide his hands over your hips, he grips them tightly and crushes his mouth against yours, kissing you hard. Spit runs down your chins, messy and sensual.

Something hard presses against your inner thigh. You push his legs apart and shove your leg in between. He chokes, eyes rolling back.

“Ngh—!” He gasps. “More—hngg—please!”

You pull back to survey him. He chases after you, lips slick and swollen.

“Shouto. You like this?”

He pauses, sucking in a breath sharply, eyes flickering. And then—

“Yes,” he whispers, a whisp of flame flaring on his left.

Your core clenches over nothing at his needy, humiliated tone.

“I like this too,” you confess, trailing a hand over the ridges of his abdomen, fascinated by the way the muscles clench.

Shouto mewls, chest thrusting forward when you pinch his nipples experimentally through the cotton. “Ah—ughh—yes!”

“Can you come like this?” You wonder absently as you twist his perked nubs harshly. He moans brokenly, hips jerking.

“I—I d-don’t­—kno—hah,” he pants, eyes half-lidded as he struggles to focus. Pleasure clouds his senses, head fuzzy and vision hazy.

“Can you get off here, like this?” You ask softly. “I want to see you come undone.”

Shouto blinks blearily at you, nodding eagerly. “Hng—yes, wanna be good for you,” he slurs. Oh. My. If you weren’t dripping before, you certainly are now.

He stumbles a little as you push him against the wall, switching positions. He’s barely standing at this point, leaning heavily against the cement as he gazes up at you with glazed eyes. He looks utterly fucked out and utterly delectable.

You undo the remainder of his buttons, holding him back firmly when he whines, pawing at the fabric, wanting to rip it off.

“We still have to walk out of here,” you remind him, giggling. His only blinks at you blankly as if to say and? Too gone to think of the consequences.

“This view is reserved for my eyes only,” you murmur, nails scraping against his nipples. He gasps, back arcing. “Yes, yes!” He agrees mindlessly.

He grinds against your thigh desperately, the weight of his cock heavy and hot. He throbs at every touch.

“Kiss—kiss, please,” he whines, reaching for you. You oblige, internally fawning over his cuteness.

His hips move faster, chasing release as he moans and keens into your mouth.

He parts from you with a gasp and wet shlick. “Feels so good—sho good—hngg,” he babbles. His asymmetric temperatures intensify, the heat of his left searing you and the chill of the right piercing you.

“Oh—I’m—I’m c-cu—” he cries out, gripping you tightly as he fucks himself against your thigh urgently. You push your leg against him harder, nails digging into his stomach.

“Come for me Sho,” you murmur, biting his lower lip. His mouth parts in a silent wail, head tossing as his eyes roll. His body shudders, something warm seeping into the fabric of your jeans.

With a strangled groan, he sags against you, exhausted and spent. You stroke his hair soothingly, brushing back the sweaty locks and peppering chaste kisses over his face as he comes down slowly.

Faintly, you register someone calling your name.

“Oh, Midoriya. Over here.”

Shouto is too out of it, still coming down from his high, his soft moans tickling your ear

“Oh, there you are! Have you seen Todoroki-kun? I—oh!” He squeaks loudly, spinning on his heel immediately and covering his reddening face.

What a sight the two of you must be. A perfectly debauched Shouto, shirt falling over his broad shoulders, the fabric clinging to his glistening skin, raised lines over his bare chest that appear angrier in the darkened lighting, slumped over you, body trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm.

The One for All user pales when he spots the noticeable burn the size of a palm on the wall behind your head.

“Uh—neverminditwasn’timportanthahahaohsomeone’scallingmegottagobye!” Midoriya practically screams in your face before bolting from the scene in the next beat.

Shouto manages a tired chuckle as you blink in the wake of his dust.

“You’re surprisingly shameless,” you remark when you turn back to him.

His wry smile slips, letting out a weak mewl when you squeeze his cock over his slacks teasingly. He’s already chubbing up, hips rolling slowly against your touch.

“I told you, didn’t I? I’m insatiable when it comes to you, darling,” he murmurs, cheeks dusting.

“Then let’s continue,” you say, helping him stand. He valiantly tries to salvage whatever is left of his shirt, but it’s hopeless. He gives up, letting it drift apart, sculpted abdomen and chest in full view.

“Hmm. I quite like this view,” your palm rests on his stomach, smiling when he jolts at your warmth.

“My place or yours?” He breathes, pulling you flush to him.

“Yours, I think. I’ve been meaning to try out your new jacuzzi,” you rest your cheek against his chest, tracing nonsensical patterns on his pec. Goosebumps rise on his skin, and you can hear the rapid fluttering of his pulse. He’s—nervous?

“I built it for you,” he confesses, burying his face into your hair. “After you mentioned how much you wanted to try one, I thought—well, I don’t know what I thought. I only know that I went out the next day to hire a contractor and expand my bathroom. I suppose part of me nurtured a hope I’d one day pluck enough courage to ask you to come over and give it a try …”

You pull away, looking up at him in disbelief. He laughs dryly at your expression.

“Yes. I know. It sounds as irrational as it felt. I still haven’t used it yet.”

“Then …,” you hesitate. And then you say shyly, “Then if you’d like … we could try it today? Together?”

“I … yes, I’d love that,” Shouto swallows thickly.

You take his hand as the two of you start to make your way back. He squeezes your hand once.

“Let’s go home,” you say softly. The corner of his heterochromatic eyes crinkle, lips curling into a gentle beam. He looks radiant, beauty amplified by his dishevelled and unkept state. He leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Yes,” he says. “Let’s.”

#shoto x reader #shouto x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki smut #shoto todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #bnha smut #bnha imagines #mha imagines

[missgeniality]

A Work Of Art (m)

“In our life there is a single color, as on an artist’s palette, which provides the meaning of life and art. It is the color of love.” - Marc Chagall

➺ Banner: The lovely @dee-ehn 💕

➺ Pairing: Jimin x Female Reader

➺ Genre: PWP, Smut, Slightest Angst

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 7.3k

➺ Summary: You surprise Jimin with his Filter outfit; and then some.

➺ Warnings: tongues get tired in this fic, dom!jimin, we talk about spit, some biting, jimin loves praise, lingerie n stuff, nipple play, oral sex (m&f receiving), we talk more about spit, some bondage is involved, degrading names, blindfolds, spanking (maybe too much, don’t look @ me), light choking, light face-fucking, cum eating, we talk even more about spit, hickeys galore, some edging?, unprotected sex (don’t do it kids, not even for Jimin)

➺ Author’s Note: (repost bc tags, you know how it is) huge s/o to @ilikemesometaetaes for making time to beta read this monstrosity 💜 thank youuuu! Also thanks to @honeiibeehobi, @kithtaehyung for helping me with the many many details & @ppersonna​for hyping up this idea or else it would have never seen the light of day ;_; lol i will come back to edit this cuz this didnt let me focus on my paper due tonight so if you see a spelling mistake or tense error umm no you didnt 👀

do let me know your thoughts!! the smallest feedback goes a long way! 💛💛

This is the first part of my Dress Down series, find more at it’s masterlist!

Y/N: soooooo, I did a thing. JM: is the dishwasher flooding our kitchen again? Y/N: -_- i’ll give you two more guesses. JM: oh no. you picked up a dog from the street again.  Y/N: come onn!! JM: y/n, last time you picked one up, HE HAD AN OWNER Y/N: you’re down to your last try, or else i’m taking this off. JM: … JM: so its something you have on? 😏 Y/N: pic_210124.jpg JM: holy shit JM: wait wait fuck JM: keep the door unlocked.

“You like?”

The bob in his Adam’s apple wordlessly conveys the answer you’re looking for.

A crisp, white, button down shirt, tucked into black trousers, topped off with a panama hat that matches your top half is the view Jimin comes home to. Your dress pays homage to Jimin’s Filter outfit - actually, the exact one - the one that showcased his immaculate dance moves, the one that exposes his delicious collarbones, the one that brings the irresistible urge to bite your way up his neck - the one he eventually rids. 

If you had to pick a color, he is a flustered orange, bright and blushing, turned on by the indecent implication of your very decent outfit.

You’re on the counter, one leg crossed over the other, accentuating the swell of your ass. Landing on the pads of your feet, you take a few steps towards the man with the unhinged jaw.

“Babe.” a mellow croak - Jimin can’t get a whole sentence out without saliva pooling and obstructing his speech. “You, in my clothes… fuck.” 

Chuckling at his very obvious loss of words, you give him a twirl, allowing him to fully soak in your outfit.

“Was waiting for you.”

Three long strides and you were in his arms, a pair of lips desperate to invade your space and claim you. An Angel on your shoulder tells you to give in; after all, this is the end result - what you both want. 

However, the Devil on the other side, no no no. It wants you to make him suffer. To get revenge for all the times you were taken control of. It remembers all the days he turned you on with shoot photographs and all the nights he brought you to the brink only to stop you from tipping over with a cocky smirk and a cheeky wink. 

The Devil was created from the moments when you thought you would actually erupt, begging for release, only to be shoved aside with a single growl of ‘don’t you fucking dare.’ 

Your desire to please him effectively silenced the Devil and kept it at bay. But no more. All those times built up and gave your Devil the power to force its way against your will to restrain it, causing it to rise to the surface.

You will have the upper hand. 

So you push him away, keeping him at an arm’s length for your safety to have him on his toes. Forlorn eyes meet your steely ones, and you physically stop yourself from giving in to his puppy gaze - those eyes can turn icy and sultry when nailing you into the bed like his rent depended on it. 

“Sit there. I have a-” You turn to switch on some music, “-small present for you.”

“If the small present isn’t me folding you in half and fucking you till sunrise,” He sits with visible reluctance, irises slowly transforming into magma orbs, “I don’t want it.”

“Well, we’ll see… Depends on how you behave.”

On a normal day, this comment would have lit your ass on fire, pronto.

Today isn’t a normal day at all. 

You stride on, every noiseless step you take leaving a wreckage of nerves behind, ignoring the smoldering gaze he has locked on you- you are unsure whether he is deciding your punishment or simply admiring how his clothes fit on your body.

You stand on the side, drinking him in. 

From your viewpoint, this is ridiculous. Those cursed jeans, vacuumed onto his thighs, ensure your eyes don’t miss a single ridge. His legs are spread out, beckoning you to have a seat, and the Angel once again begs for some reprieve. He knows what he’s doing; knows you inside and out- knows you couldn’t miss a chance to ride him like this. The wicked smirk flashing back at you is confirmation. 

But you stymy that thought at its root. Walking behind, you wrap your arms around him to faintly buss his cheek. 

“Sooo I was watching Filter…” 

Jimin hums against your feeble touch. He wants more. The soft wind of your breath routing through his jeweled ear sends a wave of goosebumps down his spine. From behind, you run your hands over his sinewy biceps, taut in restraint - holding themselves back against the suffering you are putting him through. 

“You do know how fucking hot you looked, right?” You playfully let your tongue toy with the hanging ornament, the briefest of flicks causing Jimin’s shoulders to push back, trying to connect with your bosom.

With a crooked finger under his jaw, you bring him to meet your eyes- eyes that are adorned with layered shadows of deep maroons, a variety of colors blending into your skin tone, eyelashes piqued up and ready to reach the clouds.

“So pretty…” He whispers out as you place your hat on its rightful throne - Jimin’s head.

A lone digit traces the lines of art you etched for him, appreciating every single stroke you put in to make a memorable time. Warm merigold rays bloom in your chest in response to his gaze, with him looking at you like you invented the sky. Pupils are dilated, and the only reason you can see each other is because of the practically nonexistent distance between you.

His eyes pick up on your tapering resolve to keep him in line. A light quiver of need passing your lips as you hopelessly vie for dominance is what most likely gives you away. 

Grabbing you by the neck, he pulls you into a deep kiss, plunging his tongue into you with reckless abandon like he was a nomad all this while and your mouth has finally claimed him home. Your neck strains at the awkward angle and surely even his is hurting, but the pressure of his hand is unrelenting.

His tongue searches and searches, desperately looking for a part in you he has not yet explored. You’d think the years of togetherness would have diminished this fiery attraction but no, he comes onto you like he has a mission to prove - to validate his love for you, to plead you to be his. You would happily accept this shower of affection, returning it with due interest.

With great difficulty you part, a string of spit still connecting your lips because he has not let you move far enough. “Uh-uh. Be good.” You pout a little, breaking character.

“You’re here. In my clothes. A walking dream. How the fuck am I to be good?” He pulls you back in to continue what you cut short but you break the line of spit and his intention with a hand wedged between your faces. 

“I asked you a question, Mister.” Back on your cocky nature, you graze your lips against oh-so-lightly, barely giving him anything to feel, but the tingling on his skin shows he can feel it all.

The adoration moves into a competition, “You tell me, sweetness - how did I look?”

It’s always the praise. He loves it when you struggle to tell him his dick was crafted by the heavens when you’re choking on it, but he still makes you do it. You stutter and stumble your words when his lips smack against your cunt, devouvering and digging for the treasure of your cum, but he forces you to tell him. When you sit on his dick, your brain has no sense of diction or direction, only chasing the high at his mercy, but he makes you scream it out loud, letting everyone beyond the pearly gates know, between moans and wails, that only he can break you down this way. 

“This shirt, sweetie.” Your nose trails the path between his collar and the ends of his hair, basking in the sweet vanilla scent, “You’re all covered. Why, pray tell,” You dig your teeth into the point where his shoulder meets his neck, “does this sole patch of skin turn me on so bad?”

He sucks in an inhale through his clenched teeth, his stunning visage devoid of any virtue. His head is thrown back, hat toppling over in the movement and giving you a larger canvas to mark, an opportunity you happily grasp. The mellifluous tones he is producing is recorded in your mind for lonelier nights to come. 

“And the red suit? Fuck, your corseted waist?” At the corner of your eye you see his fingers clenching into a fist, your lush voice making it harder and harder for him to breathe. 

You slowly stride forward, painfully slow, letting him notice every single muscle of your body curving to his unspoken command, undoing one button at a time until your torso is revealed- and shows the true purpose of your scarlet eye makeup. 

A deep burgundy camisole, ribbed at the waist to accentuate the way your hips flow has Jimin salivating to no end. The strappy number, with carmine ribbons flowing into your yet to be removed bottom half- a deed Jimin intends on rectifying very, very soon- calls to him sinfully. The lingerie twists and ties in incomprehensible ways, but the amount of cleavage it gives you is ungodly. 

If they weren’t already, Jimin’s eyes are now wide open.

Time comes to a standstill as he checks out your whole figure, taking in every embroidered pattern on the lingerie and every embellishment on your breasts. Before, you were already a five-star meal, but now? An emperor’s feast. 

The little flower right on top of your nipple has Jimin’s attention. His thumb comes up to trace the bedecked rose, following the stitched line of stem that takes him to the peak, then drawing over petal by petal. Each time he reaches close to your hardened nub, he abstains from crossing over it, making your nipple hardens imperceptibly under the presentiment of any relief and the disappointment when nothing arrives. His other hand, sitting on your waist, coaxes you to straddle him while he plays gardner on your bust.

“Jimin…” Your nipple, finally finding solace under his thumb, is not faring too well under the attention. Your plan of teasing him is slipping through your fingers like sand.

“Tell me baby, what do you want?” His finger is now tracing the seams of your lingerie cups, admiring the way they frame your ample bosom. Things are progressing too slow for your liking, and you come clean with your ignoble intentions. 

“Please, I just want to suck you off.”

A wad of spit lands directly into your cleavage, followed by two thick fingers penetrating the lubed entrance. 

“Nope.” His fingers continue to shallowly fuck your cleavage. Neither of you are being touched in the erogenous zone, but why does it feel so good? Your valley is inundated with his dribble, coating your ensemble and shifting shades to a deep cerise. Every pump of his nimble fingers between your breasts is like a promise of what your pussy is going to go through. Will he fuck you hard and fast with your voice echoing across the room, making every neighbor privy of your sexual escapedes? Will he be slow and gentle, penetrate you with utmost care, soft gasps and whines only sounded to the two of you? You can never guess.

In the aphrodisiac moment, you forgot that you were supposed to take charge. 

“Please, please, please! I did so much,” You take the guilt route. If Jimin was anything, he was a just and fair man. “Can’t I get that much?”

Jimin’s gaze has not left your wet cleavage. A flit of his eye makes contact with yours and goes back to the fucking - that is enough language for you to understand his needs. You bend low, and spit out a fat glob onto your chest to add to the mess he has already made. The groan that leaves him is ungodly, and he licks the spit you unloaded onto yourself, spreading it all over your expensive wear. He slurps like you released sweetened water to a parched traveller, your bosom holding all the sweetness to itself.

Gathering your thoughts is more difficult than you could ever imagine. The cloth over your nipples is completely soaked, bitten into and sticking to your skin thanks to the vacuum Jimin pulled on them. Your back has had a workout, every vertebrae bent to its maximum possibility. Chiropractors are so last year, you just have your boyfriend ravish your breasts.

“Once I’m done, you can do whatever you want.”

All of your five brain cells had to be put in action to form that sentence. The moment the words left your lips, the pressure your breasts were on had been released, but you could still feel lips against you, stretching into a snarky smirk.

“Whatever?” His grip on your waist tightens, seating you more firmly onto his taut thighs. 

Whatever. That stupidly amazing word. 

“Saying ‘whatever’ always lands you in trouble. Have you forgotten?” His damp lips are tracing your collarbones, nibbles whenever he felt appropriate. How does he expect you to form a damned sentence like this, the Devil on your shoulder indignantly asks. The Angel on the other has gone back in time to fetch memories filed under the term ‘whatever’, strictly saved for your quality alone-time. 

The first time you told him to do ‘whatever he wants’ was fairly early into your relationship. Sex was as vanilla as the ice cream tastebud-less people liked, and none of you ever pushed it too far. A happy, drunken night with a loose-lipped confession from him. 

“God, the things I want to do to you…” he had muffled into your hair, maybe not even intended for your ears to pick up. 

A cheeky giggle had bubbled out of your tipsy self. “Like what, tie me up?”

If Jimin then were a color, he was a pantone pink. Blushed cheeks from the alcohol and the realization that you had caught him, airbrushed with a depth you weren’t able to put in place that early in the relationship. Wide-eyed horror was shown in its place, possibly exaggerated to add to the denial he had landed himself in. 

“No no, of course, I don’t mean it like that, what ar-”

“Why not?”

The animal that awoke after confirming with you fifteen times was a force to be reckoned with. Your bra had turned into rope, wrists bound behind as he roughly squished your helpless cheeks. 

“You will tell me when to stop, right?” His tongue peeked lightly, brushing your top lip, taking the perspiration away.

“Uhmf-yufh!” 

“God, you’re gonna regret this baby.” 

But it was exactly the opposite. You got the railing of a lifetime, heard the filthiest words that could leave the lips of such a courteous man - a side you had not expected at all. You couldn’t possibly recollect every single move he made, but what you can recollect with excruciating detail is every feeling you felt that night. It was filled with lust, with revelations of the new ways your body could bend, a night of puppetry where Jimin played you like the master your body craved. The following day was Jimin taking care of you, big puppy eyes wondering whether he took it too far. In his daze of letting go of control, he couldn’t take in your lidded stare, heaving with satisfaction - so you made sure he could witness them when he took you the next time that morning.

The other time the wretched word was mentioned was during an argument. You’re not jealous of Jimin on stage - it’s his career and you were one of the girls offering one of their kidneys to be able to catch a glimpse of him. 

But your workspace? That’s where you draw the line. 

She was a random worker. Some third-floor low-lying soul. You were eighth-floor premium material (the floors didn’t decide shit, but no one can tell you what skyscraper semantics you can craft in your brain). A lifeless party that even Jimin’s colorful locks couldn’t color up. 

This random worker was very enamored by Jimin (as she should, the man is a whole nine-course meal). Supportive fans are not what get you jealous either. 

But the limit is when placed her scrawny fingers on Jimin’s hand, drawing the glass in his grip to her lips and took a sip from it. If her lashes were fanned they could blow a man away (which is probably more than what her puny mouth could possibly do). The fume exiting your ears could have been in bright red for all you care, because every office member had been rightfully annoyed. 

The whole car ride back was filled with your drunken blabbers about the different ways you could skin her. The actual victim beside you was not making a nearly big enough deal out of it, intending to let you get rid of your temper.

“She fucking knew!” Your normally clean disposition had taken its leave after the fuming temper took real estate in your brain, and you aimlessly threw your heel at some corner of the house - hungover self shall have to deal with this angry mess you’ve made. Wait, you’re an angry mess too.. “The gall she had, I should jus-”

You march towards the door, in hopes of what, you don’t know. But if you didn’t take action you’ll probably explode. Any action, just anything. You never find out though, because a strong arm slithered around your waist and halted your expedition. 

“Calm down, feisty. Where are you going now?” His soothing voice, punctuated with a mocking chuckle almost quelled the fire in you. Almost. 

But you’re not done being an idiot. 

“To go find her for you. You’d fuck the living daylights out of her, right?”

The loudest silence you have ever encountered. Jimin’s grip on your waist tightened to the point where it could have hurt. Like he was trying to push every iota of that thought out of your body. From behind, you can hear a deep breath dragging, and somewhere in your irate head you knew you had struck a nerve, a bad one. Jimin is forced to expel any anger bubbling in him, trying to use reason with an unreasonable recipient. 

“Princess, you don’t actually think I’d do that right?”

“I don’t know!” Your misplaced anger had reached the rooftops. Jimin had done nothing wrong here except try to calm an increasingly livid girlfriend. “Maybe you’d love that. Her itty-bitty waist, that whore’s outfit she had on. You call me a whore right? Maybe she’s more worthy of you!” 

“Y/N.”

The timbre of his voice had completely changed. The breathy, airy aura had completely departed from your name he had just called. The lack of nicknames raised some hair at the nape of your neck, but you’re a stubborn one. 

“Ugh, I don’t care.”

You tried to walk back to your room, head still reeling in a palace of inferno, burning everything that dares to intrude your path - but somehow, you had been pushed to a wall, and the eyes of the man you loved had turned feral. 

If Jimin was a color, he was green - igniting with fury, anger repressed in dark shadows that never made the light of the day until pushed - but you pushed all right. And now released from its shackles, it has surrounded you and slammed you against the wall - and you have nowhere to go. 

“You’re my whore. Is that a complaint from my stupid, stupid whore?”

The only joint you’re free to move is your neck, and your gratuitous self decided to rebel with whatever degree of freedom you have. Turning your face away to not meet his seething eyes, you continue your rebel-without-a-cause tantrum.

“Whatever.” you carped out.

Again, with that stupid word, you had signed your fate for the night. 

Usually, you can express your feelings. Be it pain or pleasure (sometimes the two packed in one), you could wail it out to the heavens and respite would follow. 

Usually, you can see the torments laid out on you. Jimin’s lithe body performing every obscene spell he invoked is a treat for your eyes. He treats your body like an artisan, using any medium to paint his art on you.

But that day, you were stripped of them both, and made to realize what a privilege they were.

Mouth stuffed with your bunched up panties, eyes blinded by his tie of the evening, you could only rely on the sensors on your skin to somehow predict what was going to be done to you. And you failed. Every single time. Every thwack fell on a new area. Every teasing touch tickled you at a new place. Nothing could begin to prepare you for his next move and you couldn’t keep up with his tameless pace.

He made you beg through the makeshift gag, beg to let you come, then beg to stop coming, beg for every orifice of yours to be filled by his seed and then beg to get cleaned by him. With the first rays of morning sunlight, language was an illusion, time was an out-of-reach concept, and all you knew was the worshipping of last night.

Whatever is a word. Whatever is mean. Whatever is filthy. Whatever is nailing you into the bed and rendering you immobile for the entire day. Whatever may just be a word to anyone, but to you it is what has you losing sense of reality, giving in to a phantasm of your wildest dreams. 

A wet tap on your cheek brings you back from you imagining the past - the fingers that were fucking your cleavage are squishing your cheeks, bringing your attention back from all your dirty memories to the present - to create another memory to add to your folder. 

If Jimin is a color, he is the darkest of all blacks. This is where everything pious comes to meet its sordid end. His sultry gaze is reading your eyes, searching for where you got lost, which shared memories of passed time made you melt into the puddle that you are right now. 

“I said, don’t you remember? ‘Whatever’?”

Let’s see. You don’t have work tomorrow. You don’t have any commitments. You don’t have to meet anyone. 

So there is no reason for you to be able to move. 

“Hmmmmn, I don’t seem to recall - you could remind me.”

Dark, dark chuckles from such a cherubic face. You flounder off his lap to shuck your (his) pants away, revealing the matching maroon garter belt set. The whole outfit is an ode to Jimin’s mid performance transformation, the one that made many people’s hearts skip a quick beat. His slim, cinched waist, the flared pants flowing down his frame were one for the books, and you’d like to think your rendition has its place too. 

Giving him a quick spin, you attempt to get down to business - but Jimin pulls you back on his lap. Without the pants, you can feel it - his hard, thick cock straining against the tough jean fabric and still making its presence known. 

“Tell me more, baby. What did you like?”

The man was a sucker for your praise. 

You were a sucker for the whole man. 

But the sucking will probably have to wait. 

“I loved your expressions. You’re so sexy on stage, fuck. Going around and giving bedroom eyes to the world.” 

His hand gripping you ass gives it a quick pinch, but voice just let out a lazy hum to get you to continue.

“The choreography,”, your whisper is strained, “you dance like you fuck baby. So sensual, so sexy.”

You lick a stripe up his neck, from his artistic collarbones to the back of his ear, the sensitive spot that makes him hiss is arousal. You stay there, wanting to whisper the next few lines. The world didn’t need to know your thirst for this. 

“You know my favorite part?” 

“Oh, tell me.” His voice is hitting lower and lower in pitch, much like it’s hitting you lower and lower in your body. 

You place the hand framing his face on his neck - the same one you want to cover in blooms of purple and red, lightly squeezing, letting him preen under the pressure. The tightness has Jimin’s head falling back on the headrest, and you can feel his pulse hastening to accommodate for the lacking oxygen in his stream. 

Letting go of his throat, and pleased to see the lightest indentation on his beautiful pale skin, you snake your hands downward. 

“Na, na, na,” Inching slowly towards your end goal, you whisper the tune into his ear, “na na na, na, na na”, covering every part with an indulgent languish, “pick your filter”.

Your hand finally reaches its destination - you grab his bulge and squeeze the hardness, making Jimin buck his hips against your palm. 

“Namaneul damabwa.”

It’s a low whisper from his lips, but even in the gravelly sound you can hear how melodious he is, how the song rolls off of his tongue and was made for his vocal color. The whisper is laced with lust, with want, with desire, all the feelings you portrayed for him in his performance.

That, and in life in general. 

You shuffle and sit to the side, simultaneously unbuttoning his jeans to get him some relief for the ache he had going on. Finally, you acquiesce and free his dick from its cages.

Every time you see him is a wonder to you. Hard, ridged, the right amount of veins to stimulate the walls of your cunt. Head leaking from the eons of teasing you’ve been doing, right from the text you sent to seconds ago. You bend down to clean him up, tasting the saltiness of his seed that has coated the head. Jimin’s lips are facing the brunt of your deeds - his teeth have found near permanent residence in its plushness, digging deep to keep from moaning too early, from giving you the pleasure. He is going to make you work. 

Well, you must get to work. 

Slowly, slowly, you dip your head in further, sucking lightly with each move, tongue tracing every vein on his dick. As you move your head back up, Jimin’s hand pushes into your back, making it arch further, and then you go down on his dick. His finger lightly follows the curve of your back, from your upper back all the way to the band of your lace panties. 

Hooking a finger underneath the lace fabric of your panty that had disappeared in between your mounds of flesh, he pulls at it - hard.  Your throat revolts against the intrusion as you gag, and the fabric presses into your clit. The concentrated abrasion turns into pleasure - he uses it to arch your back further, and bring your ass closer so that he can-

Smack! 

The spank sends you forward and you choke on his dick further, throat giving in to his hardness. 

“So good for me baby. Look at that ass.” He grabs one cheek, bubbled with the way your panties are now, squeezing and testing the firmness of your glutes. 

Your plans of torturing him are shot; the Devil on your shoulder is strangely mute. Awakening the brat, you slip a hand under and toy with his balls, pulling back to provide your throat some recess. Your saliva mixed with his precum is an gushing mess, glistening on his balls and now coating your palms as you play with light squeezes - the existing stiffness caused by your teasing arousal mixed with your playful fingers make Jimin buck into your mouth, releasing a delicious groan in the process.

A second spank is a warning, either you increase your pace or reap some serious consequences. You consider the consequences; they are very compelling. You could end with delicious marks of ownership from this delicious man. But he deserves the best suck of his life, and you’re going to do just that.

Hollowing your mouth, you go further down, till his head is poking an uninvaded point in your throat, and Jimin lets out a surprising note. A groan, no, a roar, but a tinge of whine mixed in it, like the pleasure is too much for him. 

You continue to swallow around, hand pumping the length you couldn’t take in, interlarded with swipes on his tight balls, leaving Jimin to be a heaving mess. Your ass is not faring better, bearing the brunt of his replies. You’re positive his fingerprints are imprinted on your asscheek, and one sit on his phone can unlock it. The line of your panties is drenched with your sopping wetness and lodged between the lips. 

“God, I’m so close baby, just a little more.” 

You would fervently nod in acceptance to whatever demand he places; in this position, he could ask you for the world and you would have it at his disposal. But what stops you are his ringed fingers lodged in your hair, pushing you in further, determined to spill deep in your throat, to the point where you don’t even have to swallow to get everything down. 

“Fuck, such a good girl for me.” Jimin appraises how deep he is going, how your throat is accommodating him and quivering around his length. Bunching your hair up into a makeshift ponytail, he stops them from obstructing his vision - the view of you struggling to take him in, toiling to keep the need to breathe at bay while you tend to his needs, worshipping his dick like its the last meal you’ll ever get - your desperate adulation takes him over the brink.

Jimin erupts into your mouth; an ungodly amount at that. It is the hardest he’s come in a while, and given your lifestyle, that’s saying something. Even a cum-hungry whore like you can’t possibly swallow that much in one go, and you are forced to let the globs dribble down his now-softening member. The two of you are heaving, catching a breath - completely different circumstances but the same result. 

The way you’re looking at him right now; his dick is already twitching to go for a second lap. Dilated pupils staring back, like you were at the receiving end of the orgasm - you are staring at him like he hung every star in the sky. Strings of cum are leaking out of the corners of your lips, ones he really wants to lap up with his tongue. Instead, you daintily dab it away - as innocent as pecking stray drops of ice cream off your mouth. 

You look at him with teasing eyes. “Want a taste baby?”

Running your tongue along the mess you (or he) made, you gather the remnant cum that didn’t go into you, and instead flooded his groin. Straddling back onto his lap, you go in for a kiss but stop halfway.

Jimin is looking, waiting with lust hungry eyes. Slightly pained by the pause, he whines. 

“What?”

“Open your mouth.”

From a height, you let his cum and your spit drop into his mouth, a groan of satisfaction emanating as Jimin’s tongue accepts it with great delight. He tastes his juices, they somehow feel sweeter coming from your mouth. He pushes the glob you dropped on his tongue against the roof of his mouth, letting every taste bud bathe in relish. When he’s sucked all flavor out of the globule he swallows it. On opening his eyes and landing back from heaven to earth, he sees you admiring his adam’s apple, the way it bobbed when he swallowed your offering. 

Jimin’s eyes trace your current state; you look beautiful. The strappy red lingerie wet from Jimin’s treatment perfectly showcases your peaked nipples, ready for another round of torture. His shirt, through all this has managed to stay hanging on your shoulders. The curves of your sinful waist accentuated by the ribbons of the wear, like roads down a windy path, every ribbon vanishing into their destination, between your curvaceous thighs. 

Slipping his fingers under the band, he decides he has not played with the lingerie enough, tugging it up once again - a sharp inhale and you’re moving along with it, upward to balance between the point of pain and pleasure. Jimin makes sure you don’t tip in favor of one. Grabbing you by the neck, Jimin harshly pulls you down into a deep kiss.

He’s done waiting, done watching you take the reins. His tongue tells you that you now can only react to his doings. Deepening the kiss, you let your mind walk places. Back to his performance, his stage presence, the aura he exudes when he is in his element. His sinful body melding to the flow of the beat, like the music was made to his movement - his piercing gaze that could leave an insentient camera with blushed cheeks - but a sharp bite pulls you right back to the present to remind you that this is also Jimin in his complete element. Pillowy lips, incandescent with every brush, sucked and nipped with fervor. But it still didn’t satisfy. It wasn’t nearly enough. Starved, you wanted to scream at every imperceptible air pocket between the two of you - as if you knew in your soul they were guilty of keeping you away. 

Jimin pulls away, and his words shut you down before the whine leaves you. 

“About that ‘whatever’…” his sinister eyes are a window to his brain churning something unimaginable to close the night - sinister in uppercase. Make it bold. Underline that shit. That’s him. 

In the bat of an eye, you are face down on the sofa - Jimin’s rock hard thighs are straddling you, making sure you can handle his weight. In all the coarseness, he takes care of the smallest of things. An untimely smile creeps up on your face at the thought, the tender show of affection amidst the rough push and pull affecting your immersion, but you can’t say you don’t like it.

Feeling a rough jerk on your shoulder, you try to look back, just in time to receive Jimin’s ravenous gaze; he looks at you like he will eat you alive, and by the end of the night you plan on having just that. Pulling back your now-unbuttoned shirt and bunching its ends, he anchors you to the position of his choice by tying your hands behind.

Smelling a line up your neck all the way up to your hair, he briefly pauses to ask “Okay?”

Your tiny nod is enough for Jimin to carry on with whatever godless plan he has chalked out for you. 

“I hope you had your fun. Because I’m not going easy on you.”

Light banter could cause no trouble. Atleast, not more than you already have. “When have you ever?”

Flashbacks of the blossoming days of your relationship flicker in Jimin’s mind, their fugacious presence a telling sign of how long it has been. Looking downward, he can only thank his alcohol-induced blabbering of that night as that is the reason he can enjoy the view he has right now. 

“Maybe I should take it easy?” His tongue flits across your neck, too soft for your liking, torturous like his liking.

His fingers are playing with the straps and your now exposed upper back. It’s always been a favorite place of his. The whole expanse looks resplendent when he is done tasting you. Maroon and purple florets on your beautiful, glowing skin. And then you purposely wear dresses to show it all off, to show who your heart belongs to. He loves that about you. 

You gyrate lightly, snapping him out of his daze, begging him to take you hard and fast. “Jimin, please.” a low drawl leaves you as you try to not slobber all over the cushion. 

Jimin shifts lower to straddle your thighs. Snaking his hand between your legs, he finds your clit and plays with it, every press releasing a different sound from different depths of your throat. A particularly low grunt appears when he slips two fingers into your channel with smooth ease, and pushes you up from the inside. 

“Ass up for me.”

His fingers stay lodged inside as you raise your hips to obey him, pulling you up further and further till he is satisfied with your position. God, your pussy looks wrecked. With every pump of his fingers you gush our more liquid, and Jimin gathers the escaping drops on this tongue. 

“So perfect for me, this hole.” You can feel the cold metal of his rings drawing circles inside you as he prepares you to take his cock. His tongue, drawing completely different characters is too slow for your liking - he seems to be more satisfied in drinking your cum dripping from his fingers instead of paying attention to your throbbing clit. Seconds go by, several hinting moans of dissatisfaction go by, but the Devil on your shoulder seems to have returned and is asking for more. A hip raise, that’s all. His tongue will be right where you want. 

What you got instead was a sharp bite on your already battered ass - Devil, hey, where did you go? “Behave.” He grunts against your pussy, and a fresh wave of arousal escapes you with a third finger making its way in. “Don’t like it? Too,” Smack! “Fucking.” Smack! “Bad.”

The last spank hit you hard, leaving your cunt soaked to the core. He is trying to get a rise out of you, and you are falling for it. Your smarting skin is at its breaking point, but let’s not pretend like you don’t want this either. 

“Baby please, I’m so close.” You’re close to tears with how long you’ve been this turned on. Maybe Jimin will have a change of heart seeing you like this.

“Don’t.”

Well maybe not.

He’s using your hole like playdough - for his fancy, with no end goal in sight. He doesn’t seem to want you to come anytime soon and it is bothering you to no end. The tightening coil in your belly is almost painful at this point - but he doesn’t seem to want to let up anytime soon. 

“You taste so sweet baby, almost don’t want to let you come, so you keep dripping like this.” 

His fingers curl into you to hit that spot, and God, you’re seeing stars right now. Curling up your fists into a ball and trying to keep the threatening tsunami at bay, you jerk into his mouth and continue to sway to the tune his fingers play inside you. If desperation had a poster girl, they could take your photo right now.

“If you let me come I -ohhh- I will- I will give you more.” Your words are broken, every push into your cunt halting your flow of speech. 

A split second later you are empty. He’s pulled away from you, and you think the finger-fucking torture you were going through was almost better than this. Your walls flutter in empty anguish. 

“Better keep your promise then.” Finally, you hear Jimin shuffling behind, but your muscles feel too alive and too dead at the same time. At crossroads, you are unable to get yourself to move, to twist or turn and witness the glory of him, the scrunch of his features, the grit of his pronounced jaw, his lips heaving a sigh as he pushes his girthy self into your leaking hole. 

Jimin’s forehead is lined with sweat, jaws hurting from the tight clench he had trying to not nut into you too soon. Now they revolt in pain, ready to pass on their trouble to his dick and release into you the moment he fits himself in. But he held off; he had plans for you - long plans. 

As he slowly pulls himself out, you can’t help but mewl at the pleasure your walls are feeling, with every ridge of his cock pressing all the right spots inside you, the snug fit when he’s pulled out all the way only leaving the head inside you. Then, you can’t help but yell, expressing a mixture of anguish and pleasure when his hips snap to push into you in one swoop, hitting deep inside you. With your ass high up in the air, his balls smack your engorged bud, sending shockwaves throughout your body and clenching the hold you have on his dick.

“Fuck baby, you feel fucking tight. You’re so close?” Jimin’s voice is strained as well; the lack of mocking in his tone tells you he is close as well. 

“Ki-Kiss me, please.” The voice that leaves you is so foreign, so unknown. The fucked out woman speaking in your stance has no spatial or temporal comprehension. You don’t even realize how you are put on your back, now a lucky witness to Jimin’s nimble figure pushing back into you as he leaned over to slot his lips on yours. 

The kiss was explicit, it was rough, it would put to any kiss you’ve shared before to shame. Deep in throes of pleasure, his mouth is chasing yours. Your hands are still bound; a light fight against the restrain tells you you don’t have a chance. Instead, you suck his plush lip in, swiping your tongue across his cherry petals that are rushing with blood because of you. Dormant volcanoes across the world could erupt with the blaze of your merging lips, it is scorching hot. 

If Jimin is a color, he is a rich wine - deep and passionate. He puts his one hundred percent into whatever he does, be it skilled singing, adept dancing or simply fervent kissing. He gives it his all.

Jimin’s skillful hips move in every way he wishes - and your pussy is thankful for that. Rolling in deep, he tests the stretch of your walls, before pistoning into you with zeroed-in precision, sole focus to get you to come with him. The effort he was putting in could be seen in his abs - they have tightened with exertion, and with a light sheen on sweat, look absolutely delectable. 

Letting your hands roam, you bring Jimin’s face into your neck where you can hear every single breath, every hiss, every groan - that you could record and keep in your memory. With one hand tugging his tresses, and the other hand drawing paths on his back with your nails, you hear the sounds you want to. Jimin sharply bites your ear, and the shockwaves of pleasure send you tipping. 

There’s layers to the pleasure you are experiencing right now, your orgasm hitting you in ebbs and flows. Right when you think you can finally return back to ground, the high tide pulls you back into the water for another stream of pleasure. It feels like eternity when you finally hit the land, and even then the loose sand makes you falter, threatens to send you back into the ocean.

Jimin’s pace is faltering, and he spills soon after. Hot, heavy breaths tickle under your ear, as both of you feel the sheer intensity of the orgasm. Him on you, your hearts are aligned, and you can feel the beats fighting each other for dominance until they soften down. 

Ripples of energy flow out of the both of you, elevating the temperature around the two of you. If you didn’t have your eyes closed you’d say literal rolls of steam are emanating from the way you both are heaving. You slowly regain your senses, twitching hands trying to remember what it is that hands even do. 

A shiver runs through your spine when you hear a grunt so close to your ear, only to realize Jimin is in the same position as you are in. Even without looking, you can guess what his expression is. Void of any edge, the softness of his facial features must have made their return, with crinkled eyes and a light frown on his beautiful pouty lips, he probably looks like an innocent caricature of the man that stood behind you moments ago. Letting your palm rest on his head, you beckon him to get up.

If Jimin is a color, he is the pinkness best portrayed by his puffy cheeks at this moment. A childlike glow, a guileless visage. He looks at you with such adoration, like you are the only desire in his world, and everything else can be damned.

You don’t want to break this silence but you cheekily add, “You didn’t even get me naked. Like this a bit too much eh?”

Dark clouds mar the pink and turn it into a deep, sultry carmine - the shift in his color noticeably brings your temperature down by a few degrees.

“Cute. You think I’m done with you.”

He is the whole palette, and you can pick your filter.

Thank you for making it to the end! Let me know what you think! And you can find more of my writing at my masterlist here!

#bangtansorciere #bangtanhq #bangtancentralstation #ficswithluv #bangtaninn #bts smut #jimin smut #park jimin smut #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #bangtanuniversity

[pandafromcanada420]

Teacher au Sukufushi

CW: teacher x student, age difference, smut, daddy kink, slight degradation kink

Megumi was frustrated. Sexually frustrated to be exact. It had been weeks since his last good fucking, since the last time he thought he was going to pass out because he had cummed too many times. It was absolutely infuriating knowing that he’d gone almost an entire two weeks without a real dick up his ass or down his throat. And the only person to blame was one Ryoumen Sukuna.

The homeroom teacher had basically taken sex off the table in the last few weeks as finals crept closer and more and more paperwork was piled onto his desk. 

Megumi understood, he really did, but that didn’t stop the burning ache he felt every time he saw his teacher at the front of the class. It’s like he was thrown back into his first year when Sukuna was some unattainable figure, someone he could stare at but never touch. It was agony all over again. 

All he wanted was to be back in the arms of the one he loved. 

And Fushiguro Megumi always got what he wanted.

It took no time at all to cook up a plan. Every day the teachers go to eat together, leaving one Ryoumen Sukuna alone in the faculty room (Sukuna hated interacting with the other teachers more than he had to). It would be easy to slip into the room and have his way with his teacher, they had done it dozens of times before. 

So that’s what Megumi did.

He skipped his lunch period in favor of creeping down the hall and around the corner to the faculty room, where the door was left open just a tad, just enough for Megumi to get close and peek inside. The room was empty, the teacher’s desks all left cluttered with strewn about work supplies. The only person left stood next to the copier on the other side of the room, back to the door and absorbed in getting the machine to work. 

Perfect.

Megumi was able to lower himself to the ground and awkwardly duck waddle over to Sukuna’s desk. As he moved the chair, Megumi caught sight of his long-lost thermos, the one Sukuna swears he couldn’t find around his apartment. 

The sentimental bastard. 

Megumi refocused himself, crawling all the way underneath the desk and replacing the chair so that he was completely hidden. “Stupid machine, taking forever to print out a few lousy pieces of paper.” Megumi could hear Sukuna’s agitated muttering. He couldn’t wait to fix that mood.

Sukuna pulled out the chair and promptly sat down, legs sliding under the desk and barely missing hitting Megumi. He could hear slurping from above him, Sukuna eating whatever he had packed in the thermos. Oh, Megumi would make him choke on his lunch.

Without hesitation, Megumi slid both his hands from Sukuna’s knees to his crotch. There was a loud gasp, followed by a curse then the wheels of the chair rolling backward as Sukuna ducked his head to check what had just touched him.

“Fushiguro Megumi, you little minx.” Sukuna breathed, visible relaxation coming to his face at seeing it was his beloved under the desk. “What are you doing? I’m trying to have lunch.”

“Well, I was about to have my own meal before you moved.” 

Sukuna rolled his eyes. “What did I tell you about finals? I have to focus on getting everything prepared.” 

Megumi leaned forward to better look at his teacher. “I know. That’s why I’m only going to suck you off, that way you can keep working.” He explained. 

Sukuna smirked, obviously interested in the prospect. There was still hesitation though. Megumi could fix that.

“Come on, daddy. Don’t you want my pretty little mouth around your big, fat cock? I promise I’ll do a real good job. I’ll suck you /all/ the way down.” Megumi traced his finger down his throat to emphasize just how deep he’d take the teacher. Hell, he even batted his long eyelashes he knew Sukuna was an absolute sucker for. 

“You drive a hard bargain, darling. How could I deny you now?” Sukuna lifted his head, double-checking there wasn’t anyone else in the room before making eye contact with the student, smirk gracing his face. “Go ahead, doll, get to it.” 

No more encouragement was needed. Megumi reached forward, putting his hands back on Sukuna’s knees and slowly running up his thighs and right over the bulge that was Sukuna’s soft cock. Megumi gave the bulge a few rubs through thin slacks before finally undoing the belt buckle and unzipping the pants. As a precaution, Megumi only pulled Sukuna’s cock from his underwear, letting it flop out and gaze at it in it’s quickly hardening glory. 

Megumi spit in his hand, making sure to make eye contact as he let the saliva drip between his fingers. Megumi could see Sukuna’s breath begin to pick up as he brought the spit soaked hand to the half hard cock. He gave a few pumps, loose and all wrist as he kept a strong look locked on Sukuna. Megumi loved watching the man lose his composure because of /him/. 

He leaned forward and gave a few kitten licks to the tip of the now completely hard dick in his hand. Megumi allowed his tongue to play, dipping into the slit and down the shaft as Megumi’s hand kept twisting a loose fist around the base. Spitting and kissing, getting the dick nice and wet while he mentally prepared himself to choke on it. 

When Megumi’s mouth was back on the tip, just sucking lightly, Sukuna’s hand came to grip the back of his head. “Come on, doll.  What happened to all that big talk from earlier? We don’t have all day. Get to it.”

Megumi huffed, glaring at Sukuna as he complied, finally taking him into his mouth. 

Sukuna was no average man, in any aspect, but especially when it came to his dick. No matter how many times Megumi had it in him, he was always taken aback. It was truly wonderful.

Megumi could already feel the ache in his jaw as he had to stretch his mouth wide to take the entire thing. Actively attempting to open his throat as he kept sinking lower and lower onto the cock, feeling it pass his uvula and enter his throat. Megumi gagged, barely able to cough with his mouth stuffed, soothed by a shushing Sukuna. 

At long last, Megumi’s nose landed in dark, curly pubes. “Atta boy, Megumi.” Sukuna praised, gently petting the student as he adjusted to the intrusion. 

Of course, Sukuna had no decency and when he deemed Megumi was more than accustomed, he proceeded to curl his fingers into Megumi’s hair and pull him off his dick only to force him back down. Megumi really did gag then, the sudden rough treatment not new or unwelcomed. 

Megumi completely let his throat go lax, both hands on Sukuna’s thighs for support and eyes rolled to the back of his head. “What a good boy, you are, letting daddy fuck your face.” 

Drool spilled from the sides of Megumi's mouth, actually dropping onto the floor below him. It felt so good to be used that Megumi just had to sneak a hand down into his own school slacks to free his own wet cock. Drops of precum dribbling from the tip and mixing with drool to make a small puddle. 

“Fuck, look at you. You’re such a fucking mess. A real slut for this cock, aren’t you?”

Megumi moaned in agreement. 

Sukuna continued to force Megumi’s head down, continued to punch his throat and bruise his mouth and absolute /use/ him. “Shit, you’re mouth feels so fucking good.” 

Megumi moaned when Sukuna threw his head back, gripping his head with both hands now as he sped up the movements. “I’m so fucking close,” Megumi hummed, adding some stimulation for his teacher as he jerked himself off faster. 

Just as Megumi was sure Sukuna was about to cum, the man stopped. Hands stilling Megumi’s head and sitting up straight in his chair. Megumi wanted to groan at the lack of movement. How dare he stop when Megumi was so close?

“Sukuna, lovely to see you here.” Came the voice of what Megumi would only guess was another teacher. “ I had a few questions about the upcoming exams.”

Sukuna cleared his throat, scooting his chair in further and crowding megumi under the desk. He was probably trying to hide Megumi better but in reality he was simply stuffing his dick deeper into the teen’s mouth. 

Memgumi might as well have forgotten about the other teacher. He was too focused on the throbbing dick in his mouth. Caution to the wind, Megumi began to suck hard on the appendage. Humming and slobbering and absolutely devouring the thing. 

A cough was heard from above him before a hand shot under the desk and forcibly held Megumi all the way down to the root, keeping him still. “I’m sorry, I’m pretty swamped with my own work right now. Why don’t you come by tomorrow and we can discuss this more.” 

Megumi reached to rub Sukuna’s balls through the pants, causing Sukuna to cough again. “Are you okay, Sukuna? Your face is pretty red.”

“Yes, yes, I’m perfectly fine. Now leave me alone to finish my work.” Sukuna barked at whoever was in the room. 

Followed was a huff, the sound of the door opening and closing, then an angry Sukuna rolling back in the chair and completely dislodging his dick from Megumi. 

“You little slut. Couldn’t wait for one moment, could you? Couldn’t help yourself? Hmm?” 

Megumi was lost in haze, no longer caring about the trouble they could have gotten in. “I’m sorry, daddy. Your dick is just too good. Please, daddy, let me finish. Let me finish.” 

Sukuna sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “What am I going to do with you?” 

He sighed again before placing a gentle hand under Megumi’s chin and tilting his head to look properly at Sukuna. “Open wide, doll. I’m gonna cum straight down that pretty little throat of yours.”

Obedient as ever, Megumi opened his mouth wide to allow Sukuna to glide his cock back in. Megumi gurgled, spewing more precum from his own cock. 

Megumi sucked hard, bobbing like mad until finally Sukuna groaned loud and spilled into the back of his mouth and straight down his throat as promised. It was hot and salty and just what Megumi needed to finish jerking himself to completion, cumming all over the floor. 

Sukuna pulled out, grabbing his chin and pointing Megumi’s hazy eyes to him. “Open. Let me see.” Megumi opened, showing his empty mouth. “Mmm, good boy.”

Slowly, Sukuna guided Megumi to his feet and stood him before the chair. He tucked the boy’s penis away and zipped him up then stood himself to look down at the student. He combed his fingers through Megumi’s eternally unruly hair then gave a tender kiss to the boy’s lips. “Go get cleaned up, doll. Class starts in a few. I’ll clean up here.” 

Megumi whined, tugging lightly on Sukuna’s shirt. He didn’t want to leave the teacher’s side yet. 

“Don’t worry, love. I’ll see you after school. I mean, I still need to punish you for this little naughty stunt afterall.” Sukuna smirked.

#sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukufushi fic #ryoumen sukuna #sukufushi #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi x sukuna #jjk megumi #Jujutsu Kaisen #Smut #jjk smut #fanfiction #fanfic

[theshmeepking]

I’m not normally one to redesign characters that aren’t my own but an idea popped into my head and wouldn’t leave me alone until I drew it

Bonus material under the cut

1st attempt

Made this and then realized less than a full day later that I actually fucking hated it before proceeding to undo like half of the changes I made. Redrew a couple of these for the final version but ironically enough I think the originals are better tbh lmao. Dare ya to try and spot all the changes and/or differences!

Bonus doodle featuring extremely insightful and important commentary by @moi-bento2​

Tidbits I could easily put in the tags but don’t want to

It is imperative to note first and foremost that my main goal on the second attempt was to make him more attractive to me as an individual specifically

Not to say that he doesn’t hit a lot of points for me as he is but like, nothing wrong with hitting a few more of ‘em amirite

He’s not lying it really is ketchup I swear

The snake form/tail that appears in the series once as a visual gag and then never again that everyone immediately picked up and decided was a thing that happens in response to stress is still very much a thing because it’s my redesign and I get to choose the snake traits

I know you can’t really see it but I promise you I did not remove the forked snake tongue

After years of training he has mastered the art of doing that goggle snap thing that people with goggles always seem to do in cartoons. You know what I mean.

Boxman and Fink have both tried to do it approximately once and it definitely left some bruises. They have no earthly idea how Venomous does it but they do have mad respect for it.

The line between refined and unkempt is a fine one but damn can he walk it

All I’m saying is I think Professor Venomous can be greatly improved with just 1/3 cup more of unhinged feral scientist and a teaspoon of whatever the fuck Trevor Phillips is on

#my art #ok ko #ok ko: let's be heroes! #ok ko let's be heroes #ok ko lbh #ok ko fanart #ok ko: let's be heroes! fanart #ok ko let's be heroes fanart #ok ko lbh fanart #professor venomous #certified shmeepy original

[mingoyeob-archive]

45 and 78 with jungkook pls🥺(Btw i love your writing and take your time for part 3☺️)

under the oak tree drabble game ⚔️🌳 to make up for my delayed release of part 3 of under the oak tree i’ve decided to do a drabble game! send me a number + any of the characters from under the oak tree and i’ll write you a drabble :)

hi thank you guys so much for requesting and also for being patient with me anon! I combined these two asks because you both asked for 78 so other anon you get a little something extra haha! I hope you enjoy <3

45: “Take.It.Off” + 78. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to get any more gorgeous” - jjk x reader - word count: 1.4k

Around the castle people buzzed and shuffled, zipping past one another like moving pieces in a well organized machine. The sound of numerous conversations and orders being shouted from left and right was only beaten out by the loud rushing water from outside, heavy drops of water hitting newly installed stain glass windows and ringing off like canons. Rain was nothing new to the occupants of Uwhen and not even the downpour outside could stop the bustling maids and the boisterous knights that littered every hall. So it was to Jungkook's surprise when he heard the noise come to a halt, turning his head to follow the direction of everyone's gaze trained on the main entrance. His eyes fell upon the distressing, albeit slightly amusing, sight of you standing drenched from head to toe, looking akin to a shaggy dog he had once seen fall into a river as a young boy.

It wasn’t your fault of course, this was your first rainy season after all. Sure there were a few cloudy days and drizzles that happened here and there but for the most part Aster was typically a sunny land with what seemed like never ending summers. So how were you expected to know that during this time storms came through quicker than the drop of a hat, nose untrained to picking up the fresh scent of lingering salty rain that was always a tell-tale sign of what was coming. And by the time you were able to feel the light drops of water landing on the top of your head it had already been too late and the next thing you knew you were trudging through thick mud, struggling to pull the train of your dress and walk with the weight of your heavy petty coat holding you down.

“Y/N!” Jungkook exclaimed and rushed over to you in only a few strides. His hands found themselves landing on your shoulders as he worriedly looked you over, eyes full of concern. He could feel you shaking under his fingertips. “What the hell happened to you, my love?”

You could only gaze up at him through wet lashes, lips set heavily in a pout. You could tell he was waiting for you to answer but you were too caught up with the fact that everyone had stopped to stare at the pair of you. Too afraid to sound like a fool, you had no intention of explaining yourself out here in the open, only letting out a small whimper as you huddled your arms close to yourself to stave off the cold. Jungkook noticed your hesitation, head whipping around to glare at the onlookers who had stopped to see what all the commotion was about. “Fucking hell- what are you all looking at!? Get back to work!”

Like a flip was switched, the noises returned and everyone went back to rushing past each other. All except your hand maiden who came running over the minute she saw a clear path over to your dripping figure. “Lady y/n! Let me get you back to your bed chambers and I’ll run you a fresh bath and get you a new pair of clothes and-”

“No need.” Jungkook had brushed past the maid, arm locked heavily around your frame as he started escorting you back to your room, not even sparing her a glance. “I can do all of that perfectly fine on my own.”

She sputtered and followed hastily behind you two, “But- but sir! Are you sure you don’t wan’t-” Jungkook's steely eyes had her mouth clamping shut and she stopped dead in her tracks. “Of course, my apologies. Please let me know if you need anything else, my lord.” She didn’t even wait for a reply before bowing and leaving in a hurry.

Jungkook merely grunted and continued walking the two of you up the staircase, your graze trained behind you as you watched your hand maiden scurry away. “You didn’t have to be so rude, you know.” You muttered, letting out a small hmph. Jungkook just gazed down at you briefly before pretending as if he didn’t hear your snarky comment. Though you swore you saw the hint of a smile twitch at the corner of his lips.

Upon arriving at the room, Jungkook had immediately pushed you into the center of the room, broad shoulders looming more than a few inches over you just an arms reach away. He sighed slowly and crossed his arms, “Take it off.”

You deadpanned, “What?” you say. You had heard what he said, but you hoped he wouldn’t say it again. That hope was mistakenly misplaced.

“I said take your clothes off. They’re soaking wet and you’ll get sick.” Jungkook said, talking as if this whole thing was just a giant nuisance. His facial expression was cold (as usual), so it was hard to really tell if he was serious or not (also very usual). “Once you undress I’ll give you a bath-”

“No no I’m fine! Haha no need for that, yup completely fine.” Your attempt at passing off the situation in an effort to avoid his offer was very unconvincing. “It’s not even that cold, I’ll dry off soon.” That was a lie. You were freezing, Jungkook could practically hear your teeth chattering as you spoke.

You were obviously uncomfortable with his request. He wasn’t mad, in fact, he completely understood. Despite being married for 3 years (most of it being spent apart except for one short night), he had only ever seen you naked once. At least in real life it was only once, his dreams were a completely different story.

Jungkook just shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, “Y/N…” he let out a sound of annoyance and took a deep breath to compose himself before dropping his hand and fixing you with a steely glare. He hated having to get stern with you. “Take.it.off.”

This time you could definitely tell he was serious and your nervous smile immediately dropped, replaced quickly by a look of defeat. You knew you had lost this time so there was no point in trying to push off the inevitable so instead you just sighed and began undoing your corset, Jungkook standing quiet as he watched. You could practically hear a pin drip, the room was so silent. It was deafening.

When Jungkook saw your fingers get to the last loop, he waited with bated breath. Finally, he thought, he really had to talk to someone about making your dresses less complicated to get off (for your convenience, of course). He watched you gulp just as the cord was set free and then stared transfixed as the material fell, pooling around your ankles. If he wasn’t already holding his breath, he would’ve choked. His dreams were doing you absolutely no justice.

By now your face was on fire, heat feeling your cheeks to the point you no longer even felt cold. And Jungkook's stare was only making it worse, your head filling with so many nervous ramblings and worries. Have I gotten fat since he last saw me? And was that stretch mark always there? Wait, when did my thighs get so big?

“I didn’t think it was possible for you to get any more gorgeous.” your breath caught in your throat. Jungkook had whispered the words completely in awe, irises finally filled with something other than stony resistance (dare you say, love?). You don’t know how, but for some reason those simple words had all your insecurities fading away, at least for the time being. Because the way he looked at you in this moment, it didn’t matter if you had gained a stretch mark or two, cause you knew he would still see you as nothing less than beautiful.

It was hard for you to say exactly how he was feeling since he didn’t say much else before turning around to head into the bathroom (presumably to run that bath that he mentioned earlier), but for someone who was a man of a few words, just one sentence could mean a thousand. And you hoped he would stay with you long enough for you to hear a thousand more.

#drabble game #bts #under the oak tree #jungkook #jungkook drabble #jungkook fluff #knight jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic