#it's just that they get a little too sore if i draw after working on a tablet all day

[cyberjam]

ATSV HEADCANON: they have a crush on you . . . ☆

warnings - none really, super fluffy and adorable :), semi-proof read so i apologize for grammatical errors if there are any! no use of name or y/n, gender-neutral reader!

word count - 2.1k

main masterlist <3

☆ . . . miles morales

I imagine you two already being well-acquainted friends with each other once he realized his feelings for you. For quite some time he had a crush on gwen but now his heart strings are pulling him towards you, so he's struggling when it comes to addressing his feelings.

If you're in the same room as Miles, he will stare. Any conversation that he was having before is long forgotten and all that's on his mind is you.

Miles doesn't need to study, he's one of the top students in school. But he continues to go on study dates with you because he likes being in your presence and sharing his headphones with you while eating yummy pastries.

He has an entire journal dedicated to you. Said journal includes: small journal entries of his day with you, little quotes of the funny/cute things you've said that stuck with him throughout the day, candid drawings of you that he created whenever you two hung out, cute sketches of you and him stargazing or slow-dancing together (and other secret drawings of him saving you as spider-man and cradling your body in his big strong arms but we won't get into that...)

Miles really can't get enough of you. He laughs extra loud at your jokes even if they aren't funny, his heartbeat quickens at the mention of your name, he'll offer you his jacket even if you don't need it, he always smiles when something reminds him of you, he'll share his headphones with you and shyly ask if you and him can make a "study playlist" (he listens to it at night while drawing you), and overall is just madly in love with you.

He wants to be with you more than anything, he's just struggling to find the right time to ask you. <3

"Hey, don't touch that! It's- No! It's not a diary, it's just...secret."

☆ . . . gwen stacy

She's pretty awkward herself. You were assigned to be partners for a project that would play a big part in your final grade, she came off slightly cold and seemed to be annoyed at your presence which made your relationship start off rocky. In reality she was just stressed, juggling her spider duties, getting kicked out of her house, and then school on top of that, it was just a lot. But when you made the effort to plan things and work around her busy schedule (that you didn't really know anything about) she started to become grateful for you.

Your parents welcomed her kindly each time she came over to study and whenever she would leave she was happy with a full belly and a sore face from smiling and laughing with you all night. The project was supposed to be done by the end of the semester but you and gwen were able to finish it the first month you got it. That didn't stop her bi-weekly visits, that then turned weekly, until she was suddenly walking home with you everyday, from and to school.

She likes to compare hands, shoes, and height just to see the difference in sizes. On walks back from school she'll give you a piggyback ride if you ask nicely. She also likes laying her head in your lap, if you run your fingers through her hair she'd be fast-asleep within 5 minutes.

You and her tend to share your oversized clothes together, You always wash her jackets/sweaters after you wear them, which she absolutely loves. She's fallen asleep curled up in your hoodie, inhaling the scent and listening to whatever song you rambled about the previous morning on repeat until she finally asks you to just make her a playlist. Hobie definitely knows about you, only because she slipped up by saying too much.

She enjoys staying over your house during rainy days. She tends to tense up whenever you're watching tv together on your bed and your head falls on her shoulder. During missions in other spider-verses gwen has taken little souvenirs from different worlds and given them to you, she always does it in a nonchalant way as if she wasn't grinning ear to ear on her way back, excited to see how you'd react.

You don't have sleepovers often but when you do they always seem more intimate than your usual hangouts. When you wake up and see gwen flustered on the other side of the bed you never understand why, not knowing that when you were fast asleep she woke up cuddled into you, nuzzling her body into yours.

"I-uhm. I-uh just had a weird dream. Nothing to worry about, heh.."

☆ . . . pavitr prabhakar

It's very obvious he has a crush on you, it might as well be written on his forehead. He follows you around like a lost puppy. He's constantly offering to carry your books, opening doors for you, paying for your snacks, and even giving you hand massages when you've been writing an essay for too long. He's just completely whipped for you and you're not even dating (yet).

You were a transfer student and he was assigned to show you around Mumbai. He found himself getting giddy at your cute reactions to the different sights he took you to. He adored how you were filled with so much curiosity and wonder, the awestruck look in your eyes when you saw the pretty lights at night and just how genuinely excited you seemed to stay and explore Mumbai. Since then, he's been glued to your side.

He's such a gentleman, you can tell he was raised right. Whenever you're talking his full attention is on you, nobody else matters in this moment but you. He'll even get a bit upset if someone cuts you off, ignoring whatever they're saying and urging you to continue. His legs feel wobbly around you, he gets dizzy at the sight of you, and he feels like he's floating whenever you smile at him.

There have been multiple occasions where you've caught him staring at you, depending on how he feels that day he'll either smirk and gently wave or quickly turn away with a blush on his face. He gushes about you to Hobie and Miles all of the time. They know so much about you and they've never even met you.

A true romantic. He buys you a singular flower one week out of the day, always explaining the meaning and where they originate from. (all of them are a variation of romance/love)

He tends to lean into you whenever you speak. More than one person has pointed out that you both tend to mirror each other's actions. He's feigning for your touch more than anything, a simple brush of your shoulders and he's full on putty in your hands.

He won't outright confront you when he figures out you like him, instead he'll invite you on a nightly walk. Taking you up to a rooftop with a gorgeous view, and gently resting his jacket on your shoulders. You'll sit for a while enjoying the scenery before he turns to you and says...

"a person as beautiful as yourself shouldn't wander this world alone.."

☆ . . . hobie brown

What a nightmare. He is constantly teasing and flirting with you. Always doubling over in laughter when he sees you get all flustered and the words you so badly wanna spew at him get stuck in your throat.

I imagine you both to be spider-people, you're a little more stuck-up than he is which is why he likes to tease you so much. Little by little your reactions fueled something deeper in him. He no-longer found himself flirting with you because he liked seeing how aggravated he could get you but because that was his way of approaching you and saying all of the things he wanted to while being able to play it off as a joke.

Besides teasing you relentlessly, he can be really caring and attentive to you when he wants to be. If you're in the medic he'll stop by pretty often to make sure you're okay. The only reason you found out is because you woke up to him fast asleep next to your bedside, feet propped on your bed and his vest laid across his torso like a blanket.

He'll eat the foods on your plate that you don't like. If you fall asleep he'll lay his vest onto your body and even move your position if it looks uncomfortable. If he senses danger before you he'll move you of the way as fast as he possibly can, but if he's not close enough he'll give you a heads up before anyone else. He tends to stare at you sometimes, always smiling gently to himself.

When you two get closer as friends he'll play any song on his guitar if you ask him nicely. He'll even give you lessons if you really want them. Carefully throwing his guitar over your torso, he brings his much larger hands to yours. You can feel his chest against your back, and the waves of his warm breath on your neck as he teaches you how to play. He'll also let you wear his jacket, saying it looks better on you than him. He might let you keep it, only in exchange for one of your jackets. (he sleeps with your jacket on, it makes him feel close to you.)

Hobie often checks up on you during missions, sometimes saying teasing phrases to get you riled up but mostly to make sure you're holding up okay. "you alright there, peaches? you took quite the hit."

Once he finds out you like him, he eases up on the teasing, but he doesn't refrain from dropping subtle hints of his knowingness that you like him. He's just waiting for you to finally say something.

"Yknow, if i ain't know any better i'd say you were doing this 'cause you like me."

☆ . . . miguel o' hara

You worked beside him in Alchemax, the two of you were assigned as partners. At first he didn't care much for you, simply telling you to stay out of his way and that he didn't need any help, but after Lyla practically forced him to be a cordial lab partner and work with you, he started to take a liking towards you. Sadly, it took months for him to tolerate you and even longer for him to like you.

Although he was quite stuck-up and practically seemed on edge most of the time, you were able to break through those confined walls and have a comfortable-playful work relationship with him. Every-time you made a joke or a light quip about his attitude he'd always respond with sarcasm, still not being able to hide the tiny smile that graced his face at your foolish acts.

He always runs his projects by you before submitting them. (and then lyla to triple check) He'll stop by and pick up empanadas from his favorite store, always boasting about how it's the best in Nueva York and you'll never taste anything better. Eventually he brings in a hefty share of empanadas that you two share over lunch time, your conversation flowing naturally without the teasing but with a fluffier feeling flowing through the air.

He pretends to be annoyed when he catches you over-working but he's genuinely worried for you. Always shaking his head in a disapproving way when he finds you fast asleep on your desk, papers scattered, and drool falling past your lips. Quietly scolding you in spanish before throwing his lab coat over your shoulders and organizing your papers neatly.

He tends to act unbothered when you do something that shows you care for him but in reality it makes his heart stutter and his stomach feel all loopy. He hates it because it makes him feel like a middle-schooler when they get their first crush but another part of him absolutely adores it and his main motivation to get up to go to work in the morning is you, although he'll never admit it.

If a co-worker is ever rude to you he will be the first to defend you, not hesitating to get in their face with a nasty scowl painting his features. On Friday's he made it his personal mission to walk you home, you two slowly walk side-by-side, quietly laughing to yourselves as you reminisce on lab accidents and old memories. There's a slight gleam in his eyes when you make it to your apartment door. He turns to you almost hesitantly, before stepping closer to you. He whispers a question, so quiet and soft you almost wouldn't be able to hear it.

"Can I kiss you?"

omg i hope you guys liked it! requests are still open btw and thank you for reading! <3

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated <33

#miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #pavitr x reader #miles morales x reader #atsv gwen #gwen x reader #hobie brown x reader #atsv headcanons #spiderverse imagine #across the spider verse x reader #spiderman atsv imagines #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse headcanons #pavitr prabhakar x reader #miles morales headcanons #atsv x reader #atsv fluff #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader

[nitewingbabi]

↳ please respond…I showed you my cock            ⚤ ghostface x female!reader  【 18+ ONLY — Minors DNI 】 ✉ taking requests part 2 ▻ a pretty mouth

2023 was a different year for everyone. Covid was 2020's big killer, and now ghostface seemed to be claiming 2023 as his year. You were one of his taunting targets. Text messages, phone calls, notes in your locker or mail. He had even been in your room once to leave a message on your mirror.

‘I like the red ones’ which was referring to your panties that you were trying on the other day after doing some much needed retail therapy with some friends. 

Your group was getting smaller and smaller as more students were murdered, kidnapped or not heard from in weeks. Curfew was getting shorter that soon enough school was sure to be cancelled until the police solved whoever was running around killing everyone. 

It’s Tuesday night and you just finished showering, you had been blowdrying your hair for the last 20 minutes. The recent news far from your thoughts, the truck load of school work that was due was giving you a migraine. Finally your hair was dried and you were ready to slip into bed and start your assignment. You turned your TV on, immediately putting on your current Netflix show that you were binging. 

Eyes flicking back and forth from your laptop screen to your TV. You hadn’t checked your phone since you started to shower and noticed you had multiple messages from an unknown number. But it wasn’t unknown to you. You knew exactly who it was. 

Unknown Number +1**********

➤ quiet night? 

➤ parents aren’t home. 

➤ neighbours are out of town. 

You had only had one actual physical contact with ghostface which was two weeks ago. He chased you around your house until your neighbours came barging in and he ran away. Ever since you had your parents change the locks and debate whether or not to send you across the country to live with your aunt and uncle until it was all over. You pleaded that they didn’t and instead they paid for a self defence class for you. 

Your phone buzzed again, drawing your attention away from the TV. 

Unknown Number +***********

➤ i liked the little show you put on for me the other day. 

➤ wish i had been there to ruin those little red panties 

You weren’t sure what to write back, you sat there debating if you should even write anything back and entertain this creep. 

Just as you put your phone down, the screen lit up and the room echoed from your ringtone. 

Unknown Caller 

You weren’t sure if you should pick up, but something inside you made you do it. 

“Hello?” You hesitantly asked as you held the device up to your ear. Waiting to hear that deep voice that you couldn’t recognise. 

“Hello y/n. Enjoying your show?” Your eyes met your TV screen to see your show playing still on low volume. You turned the TV off, quickly standing to your feet to look out your window. It was barely lit outside from the streetlight and nothing seemed to stick out like a sore thumb. 

“Who is this? Why are you tormenting me?” You had asked the question too many times that it was just routine, you’d hope that one time he would budge and just tell you. 

“The question isn’t who I am. the question is where I am.” You heart began to race, eyes searching endlessly out your window, he had to be close by. You suddenly felt the booty shorts and crop top that you had slid into wasn’t the best attire to be wearing at home alone whilst being stalked by a psycho. 

“Look asshole, you wanna play games. I can play.” You weren’t sure what you exact plan was, but it was the first thing to pop into your head. Were you terrified of ghostface? Yes. But did it also arouse you how much he called you, texted you, the fact he had probably seen you naked countless times, even possibly pleasured himself to the sight of you. 

“Oh yeah? In the mood for monopoly?” He chuckled darkly on the other end, you could only hope he was still watching you from where he was. With your free hand you danced your fingers down your torso, dipping into the waistband of your shorts and panties and itching your way to your centre that was throbbing. You could hear a deep growl on the other end. 

You chuckled into the phone, knowing he was definitely watching you now. You breathed a soft moan as your fingertip circles your juicy clit, using your arousal as lube to slick your finger around the bundle of nerves. Your moans grew louder and your mouth fell agape as you began walking backwards onto your bed, allowing yourself to fall back into the plush mattress and send yourself into a bliss. 

You had forgotten about ghostface, your phone falling from your ear to beside your head. 

“Hey!” Your eyes popped open as you remembered he was still on the other end. You quickly grabbed it, slowing your circles to keep yourself on edge. 

“I want to hear your pretty cries when you cum, I want you to cum to me and only me. You got that princess?” His words were sharp and threatening, just like the blade he used to murder your friends. God you were getting turned on and touching yourself to a psycho killer. The unexpected happened next. A snapchat notification came through. 

Gfce23 added you on Snapchat! 

It was him. It had to be. You accepted, still working yourself and slipping a finger inside your dripping cunt to get more arousal on your clit. 

Immediately a video came through, along with a few photos. You bit your lip as you thought about what could possibly be on the other end. You had to take the chance though, you were too far down the rabbit hole. 

“Open them, I want you to see what you fucking do to me.” His voice was hoarse and breathless, you could tell he was jerking himself on the other end or something. You clicked on the purple square. Your eyes met a hard cock, veiny and thick. The tip an enraged red with a slight purple tinge. A single drop of precum oozing out the slit and his black leather glove wrapped around his cock. 

The video began playing and his hand jerked his cock slowly, throaty moans echoing as the video continued to play and that drop of precum dripped down his pinkish shaft. A small bush of pubic hair that led to a faint snail trail and a set of what you could only guess were abs. 

His hand got faster and his moans got faster as he pumped himself hard in his hand, but before you could view more you heard your parents car pulling into the driveway with their faint music blaring. 

Ghostface was in the back of your mind as you quickly closed your phone and got settled into bed. Ghostface didn’t call you back, didn’t text you and didn’t send anything else to you that night. But that does’t mean he let you off easy. 

It had only been a few days since you last heard from ghostface, but when you did you were surprised to see the message he had sent through was not his usual taunting, threatening approach. 

Unkown Number +**********

➤ i want to see that pretty pussy spread out tonight 

➤ leave your window unlocked

➤ i know your parents wont be home

➤ hope you like it rough princess

#ghostface smut #ghostface #scream #scream2 #scream3 #scream4 #scream5 #scream6 #screamsmut #mickey altieri #mickey altieri smut #billy loomis #billy loomis smut #ghostface x reader #smut

[prettymonegasque]

Something about Max screams fucking you raw on the kitchen counter

Max Verstappen x Reader

A/N: I would gladly be Max Emillian Verstappen's little housewife. No questions asked.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, HEAVY BREEDING KINK, Lactation Kink, Housewife Kink, just a lotta kinky shit tbh, Unprotected sex (you're way too fucking young to have kids), Fingering, Oral f! receiving, Implied oral m! receiving

Waffles. That's the only thing on your mind since last night when you and Max watched The Great British Bake Off before bed. You woke up earlier than usual to finally satisfy your craving. You put on some soft jazz and moved around the kitchen in your bra and joggers. You cherised these quiet moments far away from all the noise and the chaos. You were so deep in thought, you didn't hear your husband padding towards you. You heart almost fell out of your chest when a pair of arms wrapped around you.

"Max! You scared me" You gasped as he just nuzzled in your neck. "It's 7am why are you up baby?" His voice was deeper than usual. "I need waffles" You simply shrugged. He hummed and his arms started trailing up until they reached your breasts. You hissed in pain. Max's eyes shot open at the sound of your discomfort. "What's wrong liefje?" "I'm ovulating Max. My breasts are insanely sore." You didn't notice how Max's cock stood up at your words.

You and Max have talked about kids and decided to try after the end of the season. But Max Verstappen was not a very patient man. As you grabbed the waffle maker, Max started nibbling on your neck. Leaving open mouthed kisses and slowly pushing your bra strap away for more access. You didn't take long to figure out what was happening.

In the flash of an eye, you were on the counter as Max got to work removing your joggers. He slowly kissed his way up from your ankles. He chuckled seeing your soaked panties. He slowly pulled it down with his teeth while staring into your eyes. You moaned at the sight. "Fuck baby, all of this for me?" He spoke against your pussy. "Yes Maxie. All for you." You gasped as his tongue got to work. Licking and slurping on every crevice, he knew your his pussy like the back of his hand.

He inserted two fingers, scissoring you and getting you prepared for what was to come. Despite fucking like bunnies everyday, you could never get used to his girth. The second he nudged your clit with his nose, your orgasm washed over you like a torpedo. You barely had a chance to speak before you came all over his face.

"So nice and ready for my cock huh princess?" Max got up from the floor and got rid of his boxers. His cock slapped on his stomach, making you drool selfishly. He held you tight as he slowly entered you. A loud moan tore out of you. After a few small thrust, he looked at you silently asking for permission. You knew this was what you both wanted and nodded.

Every little piece of restraint in him crumbled and an animalistic moan ripped from his throat as he fucked you raw on the kitchen counter. He thrusted into you mercilessly. You body shook at the intensity and your nails were piercing his back drawing blood. "Is this what you wanted schatje? Me fucking a baby into you. Fuck baby you would look pretty with your breast all swollen with my baby's milk and god I can't wait to suck on it." He sucked on your nipples ruthlessly rehearsing for the future. His suckling felt like heaven on your sore breasts.

You cried as he continued thrusting into you. He pulled your nipple with his lips before letting it go. He kissed you with so much love and adoration. "Shit baby. I'm about to cum. Do you want my cum huh baby? Do you? " He taunted you as his thrusts continued wrecking your pussy. "Yes Maxie! Give me your baby. Wanna be a good little housewife for you" You were on the verge of passing out. Your orgasm washed over you twice and your husband barely faltered. He was on a mission and you wanted him to succeed. Max let out a gruttal groan as he came in you. You felt his cum filling you up. You were both a sweaty mess and your foreheads touched. "Are you okay baby?" He cupped your face and placed a chaste kiss. "I'm great" You whispered. He slowly pulled out you and walked over to the bedroom to grab a cloth.

When he came back, he definetely didn't expect to see you fingering yourself pushing his cum further in. He moaned as he got ready for round 2. You knew at that moment you weren't gonna get your waffles for a while. But you got something way better to stuff in your mouth.

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen smut #f1 smut #f1 imagines #breeding k1nk #lactating kink #housewife kink #smut

[laiiaaa]

trying to go to bed mad at Carmen but he’s just not having it LMFAO i just love him with a grumpy gf :(((

You’d like to blame him for it, just because he was short with you this morning. Stressed about a food critic coming to The Bear this weekend, he’s been on edge, losing sleep, and this morning was just one of those days it was getting to him: dodging your affection, hurrying out of bed, disjointed conversations he doesn’t try too hard to be a part of.

It’s not entirely his fault, and you know this, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less, to be put to the side for even a day to make room for that colder edge to him when he gets zoned in.

So you give yourself the liberty to be a little bit shitty, too, just for the night.

You don’t greet him like you usually do, with a deep kiss hello and your hands squeezing at his sore muscles, offering to massage the knots in his shoulders. Instead you sit on the couch reading your book and offer him a fleeting glance. He pauses at the difference, but carries on.

You wait until long after he’s showered to get up. He even pops back into the living room beforehand, shorts hanging low in his waist, to call for you:

“You comin’ to bed?”

“Soon,” you tell him, which could be true, but not definite.

“Okay,” he sighs, coming behind you with a hand on your shoulder and a kiss to the opposite cheek.

You don’t give in, though, and he heads off to the bedroom.

You do join him eventually—almost an hour later, when you’re so tired that it’ll make you even more of a pain to deal with. He’s in the middle of fighting off sleep, trying to stay awake to make sure you come to bed with him, but as much as that makes your chest yearn for him, you plop down in bed a foot away and turn your back to him.

Behind you now, he shuffles to sit up. “Hey,” he tries, a soothing hand on your shoulder, “You alright, baby?”

No response.

Scooting a little closer to lean over and see your face, he brushes hair out of the way to press a kiss to your temple. “C’mon, talk t’me.”

But you turn away from his touch, and he scoffs.

“What, you mad at me now?” He watches you expectantly. “Not even gonna tell me what I did?”

“You didn’t do anything, Carmen,” you mumble, face muffled into your blanket.

“Wh—baby, don’t be like that right now—”

“Be like what?” you snap, sitting up and turning to look at him. “I’m sorry that my needs don’t align with your work schedule. Just let me know when it’d be best to reach you next time.” And with that, you drop back into bed, moving just a little further away from him.

He nearly laughs, then, real subtle with a hand rubbing his eyes and forehead because he knows you, he knows how you get when you miss him. He turns back onto his side with a groan and reaches his hand upon your waist, smoothing beneath the fabric of your shirt.

“Don’t touch me,” you spit, but you don’t dare move his hand away: it feels so much better this way, getting the touch he didn’t give you this morning.

“You’re bein’ mean today. You all cranky ‘cause you miss me, ‘s that it?”

You don’t answer.

“C’mon,” he urges you, shuffling closer so that his arm wraps fully around your waist and his face can bury into your neck with a kiss to your smooth skin. “‘M sorry for bein’ shitty this morning.” Instinctively, he draws a hand up your tummy, right beneath your breasts. “Missed you all day, y’know that?”

“Just leave me alone, Carm, I’m serious.”

“‘M really sorry about this morning, baby.” Pressing kisses to your neck, he takes a deep breath to sink into you. “After that guy comes, it’ll be over with, and I’ll take a couple days off, alright?”

“I don’t care, do what you want.”

He sighs, deep and gravelly and frustrated with your antics—but more so frustrated with himself. He has been shitty this week, he knows it, and he knows you especially don’t deserve it. “C’mon, hon, you’re killin’ me here, at least—at least gimme a kiss goodnight, huh?”

But you don’t. Because of course you don’t, he’s on you’re fuckin’ nerves with his distance lately—but this, his rough hands against your skin, his pleading, his groveling like he can’t imagine a world without you…it helps.

A little.

Not quite enough to cave or give in, though.

He seems to lose a bit of strength against you, laying into the mattress on his back again with a sigh and an arm resting over his eyes. The room stills, the fan whirrs, yet the tension between you is thick enough yet to slice through it with his chef’s knife.

That is, until his arms wrap around you again, and his hands grip your waist tight, and he lets out a grunt of a Can’t believe you’re makin’ me do this, and he wrangles you on top of him, leaving you chest to chest, with your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck and his hand rubbing soothing patterns up and down your back while the other holds you steady, worried you’ll slither away again.

Like he knew it would, the tension in your body dissolves. And maybe that’s what you wanted anyway, but you’d never tell him that—at least, not until tomorrow morning.

The room stills again. The hand smoothing along your back sneaks beneath your shirt, and you melt that much quicker. It’s hypnotic, his rough palms against your soft skin, scratches an itch you didn’t know was there until he wasn’t. He smells crisply clean and of the body wash he buys because you like the scent, a little musky with aldehydes and vetiver and sandalwood.

“This better, baby?” he murmurs, lending a careful kiss to your head.

But you only bury yourself further into him and answer with “Mm.”

He chuckles a bit, squeezes you tighter to make your heart throb. “Thought you’d say somethin’ like that.” Punctuates it with more kisses where he can reach, because now that he’s got you tethered to him again, he doesn’t think he could let you go.

The two of you stay where you are, then, just soaking in the other’s presence with wordless appreciation exchanged, growing heavier with sleep as heartbeats sync and eyelids slip closed. And by morning, legs will be intertwined, and Carmen will pull you from a groggy daze with a kiss to your lips, and you’ll be a little less bitter when he heads off to work.

(He knows it’ll simmer till he comes home, but if he gets to sleep with your weight and your warmth again, he’s sure it’ll be alright.)

#not the happiest w this but wanted to give y’all a lil somethin bc of my hiatus #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu

[etheries1015]

Heheha!!! Could I request about being Lilia Vanrouge's personal "stress ball"? (Aka relieve of stress via sex)

And he just LOVES degrading you and doing stuff to make you cry and beg?

Imagine if he like, makes you go on his cock while he's lying down, and he just orders you to pleasure him because he's too lazy too (what a lie) and he will randomly snap his hips at random times up just to see your reaction. Then it would go to full-blown fucking after a while, but y'know, you get it

Fingering you while you're blindfolded and you have to guess which finger he's using. Get it wrong, and you don't get to cum! But he lies, and makes you beg to cum. Fucks you into tomorrow, ehe!

Etc, etc...

Then imagine that after the war, he realises that he actually likes you! Confession? Fluff? And more smut? Lol my brain is now empty, pls expand.

AHHHHHHHHHH I READ THIS A COUPLE TIMES OVER BECAUSE IT'S SO GOOD??? moister than an oyster over here eheheheheh I wrote something pretty similar about this concept of Lilia taking home a human sex toy, it is very short and not in-depth but you can take a read of it -> HERE hehehe

This might be a little dark, so warning you... 18+ below with some dark themes, a bit of non-con sprinkled in there. Rough fucking, Lilia a little mean :[ but he turns out pretty soft hearted after it all <3 mildly rushed, hopefully you still enjoy <3

But I LOVE to imagine the fact that it starts out as just a fling- a way for him to let out his anger and frustrations through pleasurable means. To see you cry out as he continues to thrust into you- the chains on your hands making your wrists become sore. You kind of liked this, though, being tied up and used as the Generals release. Something about it was enticing to you, despite the toll it sometimes takes upon your body.

He lets you free of course, but he loves the way you tighten around him and how much more warm you feel when you're chained up. There's times when he comes back utterly exhausted from the days endeavors, sitting down with his head tilted back and his hands covering his eyes, legs spreading. His gaze flickers down to your needy body, before he unzips his pants pulling out his cock. Soft at first, before he tells you to entertain him enough to get him hard.

If you weren't able to properly arouse him- you'd be punished for it either later or in that moment. Depends how "tired" he is.

"You understand I've had a long day, don't you, my little bat? You can't even get me hard all by yourself. I guess I have to do all of the work, don't I?" He grabs a fist full of your hair, pushing your head into the pillow before roughly grabbing you by the hips and pulling your ass to meet his pelvis. He grinds into you before tearing your pants, your feeble whines falling upon deaf ears as he pumps his cock a time or two before entering your hole painfully slow. Now you're whining for a different reason- Lilia chuckling at such neediness. All at once he suddenly snaps his hips against your ass, leaving marks upon the back of your neck almost drawing blood. Your punishment, he says.

Over time, you felt as if Lilia was getting "bored" of you. He was coming home later than usual and didn't call upon your services as often. But this was far from the truth. He started to find himself...interested in you. Once he walked in on you indulging in your hobby, simply existing. You were so beautiful in that moment in his eyes- the way you were focusing on your task, now allowing the outside world to interfere with your happiness in that moment. Being so used to seeing hatred and bloodshed, Lilia almost forgot what it was like to be happy. He began to realize that you were indeed more than just a toy to be used at his disposal, and with this slight change of heart, he began to treat you differently.

Coming closer to the end of the war, instead of keeping you up all night to have his way with you, it would be spent asking you questions and talking about what life would be like after the war. Your hopes and dreams, your hobbies, your future plans. He began to bring you heartier food and random trinkets he felt would suite your interests, even bringing you a peony at some point, not without a deep blush and quickly disappearing into thin air almost as if to avoid your reaction. He was becoming gentler, and you weren't sure how to feel about it. Was it a trap? Was he getting your hopes up to take you by surprise? After all, you spent so long thinking you had not much worth besides being used for his sick and twisted pleasure.

Once the war was officially declared as over, you were his first visit. The first on his mind in which he wanted to share this moment, running swiftly to the cottage in which you took shelter in. You were standing in front of the garden with a smile on your face as he came back to you.

During that period in which he began to treat you differently, you had also become much more light hearted and comfortable around the fae. Perhaps a mistake you often wondered about, yet you continued on with reckless abandon nonetheless. "Lilia! It's finally over! I'm so proud-" You were cut off as he ran to you and immediately smashed his lips against yours. He had never kissed you so gently yet so passionately at the same time- his hands snaking around your body and pulling you close, almost like...a hug. Your heart dropped for a moment- thinking perhaps this was the time in which he decided to ravage you. When the war was over and worries were off his mind- he could have his way with you once again. How twisted.

"...Shall I go get my chains?" He was startled at this, pulling away and looking you in the eyes with a hint of sadness and guilt. He shook his head, pressing his forehead against yours with his hands trembling as he cupped your cheeks, peering into your eyes.

"No more chains," He muttered, "I thought I made it clear that you are not worth your body to me anymore. I apologize if I did not make that clear, my little bat." The nickname he had chosen for you sounded much softer, much more kind, and in the most loving tone, unlike the degradation you were subjected to. You bit your bottom lip as if to hide a giddy smile, Lilia taking notice of this and pressing a kiss against your forehead. The war was over, and Lilia had finally confessed his feelings for you.

The first time you two have sex, he asked permission.

"Can we...I..." He was stuttering over his words. Lilia was so used to taking what he wanted from you that it felt almost weird and awkward to ask for permission- but he promised to do it right.

"I would like to make love with you."

This time, he was gentle. Taking his time with you. He gently lay your back against the bed and propped your legs over his shoulders, bending over to pepper kisses around your face and love marks on your chest. He asked you if you were alright, and was certain to prep you before entering. Your fingers interlocked with each other, his thrusts were short and intimate yet reached the deepest parts of you. This time, it was for your pleasure- not just his own for the taking. With every thrust and every whispered "I love you's" came with praise you were unfamiliar with. This wasn't the same general who simply used you to fill to the brim and bark orders at, this was someone who wanted you to feel the love with every stroke of his hips and dulcet words that left his once fiery mouth.

it's truly a wonder how much people can change.

( @mellowwillowy I think you'd enjoy this one, pookie)

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #lilia #lilia vanrouge #Lilia x reader #Lilia vanrouge x reader #Lilia smut #Lilia x reader smut #twisted wonderland smut #twst smut #Twst headcannons #twisted wonderland headcannons #twisted wonderland x reader smut

[benkeibear]

⋆꙳✧༄ Their hand slips

꒰ ͜͡➸ In which their hand (almost) slips and puts a strain on your relationship.

❖ Characters: Toji, Yuuta, Inumaki

❖ Reader: female | AFAB

❖ Wordcount: 4,3k

❖ WARNINGS: Toji being a good husband and almost snapping, getting pushed and slapped (accidentally), Toge using his technique on you, overall sogginess, hurt to comfort

❖ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi! | Part 2 with Nanami, Yuuji and Gojo in works! A big thank you to @kakushino and @suyacho for the brainstorming and making me pull through 🫶

☰ Toji:

Being with Toji has always been a rollercoaster of emotions, but you never doubted his love for you, despite him being rough around the edges. Yes, he might disappear for days, sometimes weeks after a fight, but he never once lifted his hand or indicated that he would physically hurt you. If the fight was over something dumb, you would usually end up in the bedroom to get his anger out in a fun way while making up again.

You don't even know what started the fight today - was it the dishes he didn't do? Perhaps he left the laundry in the laundry machine? All you know is that you've been screaming at each other for well over an hour; your throat was already sore, but you wouldn't stop now. Toji was just beyond annoyed at your little tantrum, at least that's what it was to him. “I said I'd take care of it, didn't I? The day isn't over yet,” he tried the calm way at first, his jaw clenching in frustration when you screamed back how tired you are from work.

Things carried on like this for a while, Toji losing his cool after you screamed at him right away and he started to scream back until you were just throwing around profanities. At least until you said something you shouldn't have “No wonder your last two wives left you, you live like a damn pig." It wasn't too bad, but it was a sore topic for him and his hand raised… simply staying up in the air without ever connecting to your face, but it was enough for you to flinch away. Toji's jaw tensed up further, his teeth almost cracking from the pure pressure, when he realized what he almost did - crossing a boundary that should never be crossed and you look at him like he's a monster now. Perhaps he was and you were right, make it three wives, it's deserved now that his hand almost struck you.

Ever so slowly, he brought his hand down from its spot up in the air, trying not to startle you further when he reached to cup your cheek, the anger in his eyes turning to desperation. Out of reflex, you flinched from his touch, your body still in flight mode from almost getting struck by him and Toji recoiled his hand quickly while nodding to himself. The anger flamed up behind his eyes once again upon realizing just how badly he had messed up. Anger rose up and he couldn't contain himself any longer. “FUCK” he roared, making you stumble backwards just to get away from him before he punched a hole into the wall. You barely recognized the man in front of you since he'd never been this violent around you or directed at you. The thought of drawing a single breath of air scared you with him raging around and you simply held your breath, your entire body shaking like a leaf in a heavy storm, but before you found your voice again, he stormed out of your shared home, grabbing his coat on the way out of the front door.

Relief was the first thing you felt when you finally felt like you could exhale once again. The air was less tense with him out of the room and upon looking around your usually tidy kitchen, you saw the battlefield he'd left behind. The hole in the wall was gaping and your favorite candle holder, the one he gifted you simply because you thought the cat warming its paws looked so cute, was now on the floor and shattered into hundreds of small pieces. You didn't care much for the cushions laying around or the chairs scattered across the room, but you cradled the severed porcelain head of the small cat to your chest as you fell to your knees when the first wave of shock wore off. Toji has left. He's gone now and given how both of you crossed boundaries and he almost hit you, it didn't give you much hope for his return. A bitter laugh crossed your sobs when you thought of the small candle holder scattered and how it represented your broken relationship.

After what felt like an eternity on the floor, you had the courage to get up once again, slowly putting things back where they used to stand before picking up each and every piece of Tojis present. You needed to get your mind off of his departure, he sure would return - latest when he had to get his things - you told yourself, trying to calm the mess that was in your head. Dedicated, you brought the pieces to the living room, where his show was running as always, your favorite background noise in your daily life and piece by piece, you glued the little candle holder back together until it looked somewhat like it used to and it gave you hope - perhaps you could do the same to your relationship?

Once the distraction wore off, you found yourself sitting on the unusually empty couch, sitting in his favorite spot and the silence was deafening. The show stopped playing a while ago, Netflix asked you if you're still watching, and the tears started to form in your eyes once again. Perhaps he will be back soon? Your hope wore thinner with every hour that has passed, only hoping that he will come back eventually one day at this point. Sure, you've had worse fights with him, but it never got physical, this one felt much more charged and intense like all the others before, so perhaps he's sick of the constant fighting, sick of you…

Slowly, you sunk your face into the pillow on the couch and brought your knees to your chest as you wept. His show was now playing once again to bring you at least a little comfort as you drifted off into a restless slumber, the moment where he almost struck you, replaying in your head over and over again.

Toji wandered around the block at first, contemplating getting drunk out of his mind and simply disappearing out of your life forever since he has nothing to offer you but his heart and body, but now he wasn't sure if that was enough - if he was enough and he hated these thoughts. He could have any woman he wanted, so why is he so damn attached to you? Answers didn't come by as he sat down in the park and gulped down a cheap beer, but the longer he sat there, the more reasons he found just why he was with you and how you made him feel things no one managed to ignite in so long. It was clear to him that he would need to go back, that he would need to fix things with you, for his own sake because he'd be lost without you once again.

By the time Toji got up from the old bench at the park it was almost morning already. The birds were chirping softly in the trees and he took a deep breath in, preparing himself to lose you once and for all since he couldn't force you to forgive him after all, but he would promise to be better. He vowed to be a good partner and later on to be a good husband to you and not once did he make you regret trusting him since he was always nothing but good to you. His posture was slightly slouched when he entered the apartment, ready to find the mess he left behind in the kitchen, but it looked as if nothing ever happened here - aside from the hole in the wall that felt like a plow to his guts. That could have been your face, the realization setting in once again over what happened and how badly he damaged the trust in this relationship with his cowardly reaction.

Shaking his head at his thought, he made his way back to the door, only to be met by your weak voice somewhere behind him. “Toji?” was all you asked, your voice sounding tired and so fragile from hours of crying and he flinched, dreading your next words. “Don't leave… please,” You continue and sit up now to look at him. “I'm just here to get my thi- you want me to stay?” He sounded rather surprised that you didn't send him out, cussing him and his entire bloodline out as he got his things. Toji was so prepared for rejection that he didn't even consider you would want him to stay, but you did, so he dragged himself over to the couch where you sat, waiting to face him. Your bloodshot eyes shocked him, have you been crying all night over him? Over the situation, or perhaps the divorce you surely wanted?

“I'm sorry,” was all that he croaked out, his ego crushed and the confidence that usually radiated off of him was entirely gone. He was nothing but a miserable pile in front of you in this moment. It took you a minute or two to fully register his words - his apology and you simply nodded, knowing he wasn't great with words, especially apologies. Silence fell upon both of you once again, unsure how to go on from here. Both of you were uncomfortable with the situation, but you were the first to find your words again, having spent the night thinking about what you wanted and ultimately what you would say to him. But right now, this was all thrown out of the window when you looked at him and reached out for his hands, trying to show that you're no longer scared.

“Listen to me. If you ever raise a hand to me again, Toji Fushiguru, I will cut out your heart and eat it for breakfast. Do you understand me?” You asked with a much more secure voice and it almost scared him because he knew you took that threat seriously, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips now. “That's my wife,” he chuckled a little, wondering if he extinguished your flame with fear, but you weren't one to crumble, not from him or his foolish actions.

Unasked Toji whisked you up into his strong arms and carried you to the bedroom, refusing to let go of you for even a second as he smothered you between his arms and chest. Things weren't okay and they won't be for a while, but at least you knew that he was willing to work on himself and that you were willing to stay, so things could be alright again one day.

☰ Yuuta:

You were always Yuuta's first priority and he never failed to make it clear that you knew that there's no one and nothing more important to him than you. Yet he had to save the world as usual, exorcizing a curse here, helping out there and more often than not, you found yourself alone in your shared home, talking limited to texts and phone calls. He tried his hardest to make sure you're always on his mind, even if he's not physically with you, especially then, but you slowly felt like this wasn't the case. It felt like he was running away from home, from you to be alone, to be with Rika rather than you for the old days sake.

This gut wrenching thought became especially painful when you ran into him in the grocery store when he claimed to be on the other side of the world and not in fact in the same grocery store or even the same city. You didn't want to cause a scene, not there out of all places, so you abandoned your shopping cart and walked out, ignoring the hurt puppy look from your boyfriend. Dropping the chocolates he held previously, he charged after you, “Wait, please. Let me explain!” He called after you and caught up with your rather fast pace, but you didn't pay any attention to him, fearing the worst.

And sometimes your own mind can be the worst enemy, as you now convinced yourself that Yuuta was leading some sort of double life, a secret life hidden away from you and you didn't want to see his face a second longer. When the young man held onto your wrist to get you to stop running from him, it felt as if your skin was burning. You quickly tugged your hand out of his grasp and glared at him. “Stop causing a damn scene, Okkotsu,” you hissed under your breath and Yuuta knew he was in trouble by the way you only used his last name, so much venom behind your words. All he wanted to do was surprise you with your favorite flowers and some sweets since he was home almost an entire week earlier and he didn't understand the tantrum you were throwing at that moment. Yes, he did lie to you and told you he wouldn't be home for at least another five days, but he was already on his way back to you, his home. Was he wrong that he wanted to surprise you just to have you jump into his arms five days earlier than initially planned?

The walk home was awkward and silent, the air around you two was charged with strong emotions and unspoken words - words none of you dared to speak until the front door to your apartment was closed and you whipped around, facing him with an expression full of anger and hurt. “Why did you lie to me? Am I not good enough for you anymore?” You immediately asked, letting your inner fear take over instead of trying to think rationally, but Yuuta immediately shook his head. “It's not like that, I promise!” His voice was rather submissive, hating to have fights with you, especially for the dumbest reasons, but you couldn't contain your anger, your presence alone made him take a step back. He knew you would never lay a hand on him, but the air around you was so thick that he feared to suffocate if he couldn't keep some distance. “Don't come at me with that bullshit, Yuuta. You promised not to lie to me and here you are… avoiding me despite being back. Do you have someone else? Do you miss Rika so much that you can't bear to be with me?” You questioned, taking steps towards your boyfriend despite his silent plea to keep distance. It's unfair of you to bring Rika up in this situation, both of you knew this, but you didn't care. The way he was always talking about her started to gnaw at your heart, slowly building a deep insecurity that you're just someone he settled for because he couldn't have the one he wanted. Perhaps he found a better replacement? That was your initial thought when you saw him smiling to himself at the grocery store. Little do you know, he was thinking about your gleeful smile when he came home early.

Yuuta barely opened his mouth after what felt like an eternity of silence when he reached for your hands, hoping you let him explain, hoping you calmed down enough to start thinking rationally. “Please, just listen, okay?” He started, his voice small since he didn't want things to escalate, fearing to lose you as much as you fear the same. You were his anchor, his safety vest out in the ocean that kept him afloat when everything was against him. He made the mistake of touching you, trying to get closer to you when you were so charged and it made you feel crowded, pushing him off of you, so he let go of your wrists. He would have let go if only you had asked, showing him he makes you uncomfortable, but before he could stop it, it was already too late.

Rika pushed you away from him much harsher than he would have ever allowed and he recoiled, backing away from your curled up body after you were sent flying against the wall, several feet behind you.

The sight of your body on the floor and the little noise you let out upon the collision shattered his heart. Sure, Rika just wanted to protect him from harm, but you would have never seriously hurt him and he was in shambles, trying to figure out what to do now that one of his biggest fears had become a reality. It took you a few seconds to realize what had just happened. You were just sitting up and blinking at Yuuta, who looked paler than usual, his body frozen to the spot as he watched you with wide eyes. The way you looked around made him aware of how dizzy you must feel since your head hit the wall - at least there was no blood on your hands when you checked the back of your head reluctantly.

“Yuuta?” You asked him as you teared up, knowing that it was just an accident. The young man snapped out of his trance-like state upon hearing your voice, softly asking him for comfort, but he couldn't give that to you, not if he was the one who hurt you in the first place.

His head snapped around, looking for a way out of here. Perhaps he could jump out of the window, or is it too high? The sound of his heartbeat picking up was deafening, the only thing he heard in that moment and it only fueled the anxiety further. But it was you utterly desperate voice calling out to him once again that snapped him out of his fight or flight reaction. Panicked eyes finally looked at your teary ones and his body reacted on its own. Without a further moment passing, he dropped to his knees beside you and cradled your body in his arms, holding you close. You knew he didn't hurt you and it was just a reaction from Rika, so you weren't angry, but your body still hurt as you wept into his embrace, your body trembling with each sob that wrecked through it. “I'm so sorry, my love,” kept falling off his lips like a whispered mantra as he gently rocked you back and forth in his arms in hopes that it's enough to call both of you down - even if it's just a little bit.

Hours later, neither of you had moved. You were still cradled in Yuuta's lap, arms wrapped securely around you and he still looked at you as if he had just broken the most valuable thing he ever owned. “I’m sorry that I made you angry.” You eventually broke the silence that just felt heavy to you, but he quickly shook his head. “Don't..." It's not your fault I lost control,” he began and kissed your temple, his lips resting against your delicate skin for a moment before you felt them move as he continued to speak. “I should have told you I'm home earlier, the flowers would have been a surprise regardless, I'm sorry I made you doubt my love for you,” he whispered against your temple, earnest regret in his voice. Yuuta knew he was gone too much lately and if the roles were reversed, he would have had doubts as well, so he couldn't blame you.

Unsure how to answer, you nod softly and your hands clutch onto him just a little tighter. “We will make things better,” you eventually mumble, reassuring the both of you that despite what has happened, things will be okay again and you can work past this accident.

☰ Inumaki:

You never felt scared or threatened by Inumaki, he was always more than sweet to you and despite his cursed speech, you never feared anything. He fell in love with you the day he found out you learned sign language for him and he hasn't left your side ever since. You two were inseparable to the point that his friends automatically spoke of both of you instead of just an individual and it was you who understood his few words better than anyone.

Laughter echoed through his small apartment when he pinned you to the bed with just one hand, the other traveling down to your sides to tickle you. Your laughter was one of his favorite noises, your smile his favorite sight and he wished he could tell you, scream out how much he loves you, but he would never dare say such things out loud, scared it manipulates you somehow and you're with him against his will. This was his worst nightmare, one that often haunted him at night and he woke up distressed while frantically searching for his phone. It's the same over and over again. “You're with me because it's what you want, right?” He texts and awaits your answer as he picks the skin on his fingers anxiously. “I’m with you because my heart chose you,” you tell him every time before his phone even unlocks, already knowing what plagues his handsome head.

Your sweet giggle brought him back to the little play fight you two just had and the way you were trying so hard to overpower him despite knowing you would never succeed. This thought never scared you, since you knew he would never use it against you or hold you down when you didn't want it. It was all just playful banter until he wanted to catch your wrist after you freed it but miscalculated, sending his hand right against your cheek with such strength that the slap echoed off the walls, followed by your whimper. You didn't need to push him off of your body, Inumaki got up right away and the tears that started to form in your eyes caused him to panic slowly. He frantically tried to sign “I'm sorry, it was an accident” over and over, but it felt like his hands were knotted up by the speed and you didn't look at him, turning away as the tears started rolling down your cheeks. You weren't mad at him, knowing it was an accident, but it still hurt you - the tears were only a reaction of your body to the stinging pain that traveled through your face.

But the way you refused to even look at him frustrated the young man and despite his efforts to get your attention, you simply rose from the corner of the bed and left the room. Of course he was chasing after you, tapping you, holding your wrist, whining… He tried so hard to get just a sliver of your attention when you clearly didn't want to give that to him right now and he felt wrongfully punished. “Stop crying and come here.” These words slipped past his lips with such desperation, he couldn't even stop himself before saying them out loud and his hands slapped over his mouth the second he realized what he'd done.

No matter how hard you tried to stop yourself, your body acted on its own accord as the tears dried and your feet walked over to him. Your face was one of utter shock and betrayal that he would do this to you, accident or not.

Inumaki pulled your body close and held you in a tight embrace, despite every fiber in his body screaming not to do it. It felt so wrong to him, but he needed you to forgive him for accidentally hurting you and for putting you through manipulation. When he pulled back, he was met with a face full of hurt and anger, which he deserved. “Please hit me back. We can be even,” he signed once, twice… but you looked away, pinching the bridge of your nose as you took a step back to put some space between the white haired man. You wanted to scream and explode at him, but you collected yourself and looked at him with a cold expression. “Can you just stop?! I don't care that you hit me,” you started but lost your cool quickly and it came out more snappy than intended. “We were play-fighting, it happens. But you can't just crowd me and demand I do things… and you surely can't fucking manipulate me!” Your voice rose in volume at the last part since this hurt you more than the accidental hit to your face.

Inumaki looked at you like a kicked puppy, his eyes big and his face sinking into the collar of his sweater further so he could hide. He was beyond ashamed for his actions and didn't want to speak, the desperation clouding his mind and forgetting for just a split second that his words have immediate consequences and despite his best effort to not speak, he can mess up.

With trembling hands, he started signing apologies, begging for your forgiveness over and over until his shoulders started trembling and in a last effort, he signed words that were unclear, but you knew what he meant. “Please hold me." You whispered as he signed it and sighed. Realizing that he's more affected by this than you are and that he really had no malicious intentions, you pulled your lover close, comforting him and yourself as his arms wrapped around you tightly, hands clutching to the fabric of your shirt. "Love,” he mumbled out, knowing this one word wouldn't make you do anything, but it was the first time you heard him say that he loves you out loud. “I love you too,” you whispered back, your cheek still aching from the way his hand slipped, but right now your heart needed healing from the betrayal of getting manipulated. Both, you and Toge were sure that this was a cut in your relationship, but the bond you share will act as a bandaid and you will be okay again, especially since he will be even more careful now.

Networks: @themovingcastlez @enchantedforest-network

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff #toji x reader #yuuta x reader #inumaki x reader #toge x reader #Toji angst #toji fluff #yuuta fluff #yuuta angst #Inumaki angst #inumaki fluff #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk fluff

[abbyromanoff]

For kinkmas can you do a Emily Prentiss who has a dick and get R pregnant, but abandons her for some angst, then Emily reconnects with her after a case and meets her kids and all.

YOU’RE BACK, BUT ITS TOO LATE

PAIRINGS: Emily Prentiss x reader

WORD COUNT: 1244

WARNINGS: smut, angst, pregnancy, abandonment, mommy (E), breeding, kids (yes they deserve a warning), arguments, Emily has a dick, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Emily’s breath panned against your face, her lips venturing to your neck in a hurry. She teased the skin with her teeth, causing shivers to run down your spine. She leaned back, smirking in glory as you grappled onto her biceps.

“You look so beautiful, baby.” She muttered, her thrusts slowing as she took a moment to admire you. Only when a whine left your lips did she continue, forcing your lip onto her own as you shared a lustful kiss.

“Please, Em,“ You gasped out, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt liquid squirt into you. Her breath was shaggy, her voice trembling as she nodded with you.

“Mhm, going to make you a pretty little Mommy.” She chuckled, drawing long and hard hip movements, allowing you to feel her cock pulsing deep inside of you.

“I’m- I’m going to cum,” She placed each hand on either side of your head, her breasts moving with her body. You leaned forward, taking her sensitive nipple into your mouth. She moaned, tugging you closer by your hair as your legs shook.

“Cum for Mommy, sweetheart.” Your juices covered her cock as she painted your walls white, her grin wide as she admired the new ring on your finger. She had just proposed earlier that night while the stars shined bright against your skin, the ring shimmering as she placed it on your skin. She led it to her mouth, pressing a soft kiss against the material before returning her forehead to the pillows beneath you.

“I’ll never stop loving you, baby.”

“I told you I’d never stop loving you, Y/N.” The woman retorted, smiling through wet tears as she looked down on you, the ring still planted on your finger. It had been nearly a year yet you couldn’t get enough of her, no matter her actions. Only a few days after you found the sticks in the bathroom holding two lines was when she left. You weren’t able to inform her about the pregnancy, and the fact that she was going to be a mother soon.

It all happened so quickly, one moment you were the happiest you’d ever been, then the next you stood over her grave, tears racking out of you uncontrollably. You never expected her to return a year later in front of your doorstep, who would? But her hair had grown slightly, and you noticed the sore cheeks that proved her sadness wasn’t fake. She instantly fell into your arms, but you backed away, fearful of the recurring dream appearing once again. You were finally starting to heal, but now she was back, and you didn’t know what to do.

She heard the soft giggles of your child and froze, a smile threatening to take over her face as she noticed your Mother laughing at the child’s face. She had a hint of black hair on her head, even without seeing the rest of her features she could tell it was her replica.

“Emily, you can’t just barge in here after…after I believed you were dead for a whole fucking year!” You ran your fingers through your hair anxiously, steam nearly coming out of your nose and ears as she stood there; she looked so perfect. How could she stand there and look so perfect, she just tore your heart out only to rip it back out as you tried to fix it.

“I know, my love-“

“Please don’t call me that.” You begged, sniffling as she tried moving closer. Your Mother left after a screaming match was to be had between the two, both of them telling you to bring the baby girl to your room so she didn’t have to witness it. It wasn’t calm, and you were shocked you had zero neighboring complaints.

“Please, I- I didn’t mean to hurt you,”

“But you run off to fucking Paris while your pregnant wife stayed at home? Do you know how difficult those months were for me? Not only was I carrying a child, but I was dealing with the loss of the love of my fucking life! Only to find out she wasn’t even fucking dead!” She buried her head in guilt, and no matter how badly she wanted to look up and see you, she couldn’t bear to meet your tearful eyes.

“I didn’t know you were pregnant-“

“That doesn’t change shit, Emily! You left. You left me, and you left your daughter, you think I can just forget that?”

“No, I don’t expect you to. And, to be honest, I don’t want you to. I don’t want you to forgive me because I can’t even forgive myself and I never, ever will. All I want is to spend the night with you, okay? I- I want to see my daughter experience her first Christmas tomorrow morning, and I want to experience our first Christmas together again…please, I’m begging you, Y/N.” She stood, relief filling her as you allowed your fingers to interlace with hers. She looked so hopeless, you, once again, couldn’t resist her.

“Fine, but we’ll be talking about this tomorrow, don’t think I’ve even thought about forgiving you.”

You promised yourself it wouldn’t happen, that sharing a bed with her wouldn’t bring back tempting emotions, but it did the opposite. And that’s how you found yourself beneath her, your walls accepting her cock desperately, despite your previous restraints. You forced yourself to keep quiet, but it was nearly impossible as she continued to hit against your g-spot with every thrust.

“I’m so sorry, baby- fuck, I love you so much.” She reminded you, wrapping her arms around your body as she dragged you towards her. You were now riding her, your legs around her waist as your hands dug at her back, your breasts pressing against hers as they created a shared rhythm.

“We…we need to be quiet, Emilia i- is fuck! Fuck, she’s- she’s sleeping.” The name came from Emily, you remembered when she told you her dreams of passing her name down to her child, but she also didn’t enjoy her government name. She wanted her daughter to have a beautiful name to match them, and Emilia was what she came up with after years of pondering the thought. Children had always worried her, especially due to her career, but she wanted nothing more than a true, happy family - one she spent her entire trip dreaming of.

“I know, but I want to hear you. God, I- I’ve missed you so much, ‘m never leaving you two again.” Unlike the deeply sexual position you both shared, there was a sense of comfort in her words. She seemed to ease away your fears with only a promise, but you worried she’d break it once again. You couldn’t risk losing her, not again.

“Please don’t leave me, E-Em. I- ah! I need you so fucking bad.” She repositioned the two of you, letting you rest against the pillows as she took a moment to admire your body. It was scarred, your skin holding wounds of pain yet beauty. The stretch marks represented her child - her baby girl, and she couldn’t have loved them more. She kissed the ones in reach, smiling up at you before kissing your lips in a passionate, loving gesture. She waited for you to pull back, but you never did.

“I told you I’d never stop loving you, Y/N.” And she meant it, she meant every word.

#emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x reader smut #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #kinkmas

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Scenario thirst/request: It’s already canon that Kaveh can’t handle his alcohol, but once he gets together with Reader he seriously needs to be cut off. Bars are gonna start denying him service bc instead of his normal complaints about some work client, he’s now complaining to any poor soul in the vicinity about how Reader’s cock is so big it’s impossible to take. Also won’t shut up about how they haven’t fucked him in ages (since yesterday) so they obviously think he’s hideous and don’t love him anymore. To top it all off he’s literally saying all of this while draped over Reader’s lap. He won’t stop whining until Reader drags him out the tavern and fucks him stupid in the alley around back.

Pairings: Kaveh x reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Kaveh, handjob, biting, whiny Kaveh, semi-public sex

Genre/Format: Smut; Short scenario

Author's Note: Your mind 😳 I want to break Kaveh so badly ugh

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

The plan was to have a casual drink or two at the tavern, order a bit of food and maybe split a dessert with your beloved. You should have known better than that...

Now your beloved was whining to the tables next to yours about how your “ginormous monster cock” was just too biiiig! He can't handle taking the entire thing in his little ass but you make it fit anyways 🥺

The guests look on with irritated expressions and you mouth apologies at everyone...Kaveh's weight is sprawled out across your lap while he continues to moan and groan that it's “so so soooo biiiig–” You pinch the bridge of your nose and gulp down more of your drink as Kaveh's slender fingers tug at your shirt, drawing your attention downwards

The saddest, most pathetic expression makes it's way onto his face as he complains that, “You haven't fucked me in foreeeverrr- D'you not like me anymore...?” He slurs, pouting and sniffling. Another patron seated across from you makes eye contact and smirks, shaking their head. Everyone in the damn building can probably hear your partner's voice, seeing as alcohol tends to make him louder than usual...guess there's only one way to fix him now

“Heeeeyyy...don't push me off of– Aah!” Kaveh's startled noise draws even more attention towards the two of you as you drag him out of the bar by his arm. Passing by the owner and tossing a large pouch of mora onto the counter for all of the trouble. The blond protested the entire way out, attempting to grab the door frame so that you couldn't drag him along, though he was a bit too drunk to see straight enough to grab anything...

“Ow, owowow ooooowww!! Y/nnn...what's gotten into yo-oouu...?” Kaveh hiccuped. Your eye twitched in annoyance while your hands found their way onto the wall next to your partner's head, caging him in

“What's gotten into me? What's gotten into you! Mr. ‘My partner's cock is too fucking big uwu’?!” You whisper-yelled. Boring into Kaveh's accusatory eyes as he stammered, trying to form a response but getting cut off by your strong hands flipping him so that his torso was now pressed against the nearby wall. “If you're going to embarrass me in front of dozens of people, then I'm going to embarrass you in this alley. Whatever attention you draw is your own fault.”

At first, he did try to stay quiet, but your cock was actually pretty big and it caused him to have loose lips, especially with the added intoxication from a few drinks...

Kaveh's ass was red and sore after a while of pounding him into oblivion. Your dick was reaching all new places inside of him as you slid in and out vigorously, using every bit of leverage at your disposal to fuck into him faster and rougher, even if it meant that you'd have to carry him home afterwards. Whatever it took for your own tipsy mind to find peace with this punishment

Several instances of footsteps were heard during all of this. Probably people that picked up Kaveh's loud wails and moans, screaming “Cum-cumming—!! ” multiple times as you jerked him off while destroying his hole. His poor, sensitive shoulder was littered with angry bite marks from your own orgasms across the night. All of this would serve as a reminder the next morning; a reminder to work on biting his tongue whenever he drank

Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

#my writing #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact #kaveh #kaveh smut #kaveh x reader #sub kaveh #male reader #dom reader #top reader #scenario #requested

[rendaze]

work on you (m)

+ featuring ... manager!taehyung x idol!reader

+ summary ... when your manager, kim taehyung, decides to avoid you after a massage turned sexual, you are determined to kill two birds with one stone: get him to talk to you again by fucking him.

+ genre ... smut, fluff

+ wordcount ... 12k

+ warnings ... fem!reader, possessive/jealous!taehyung, dom!taehyung, perv!taehyung, brat!reader, a lot of dirty talk, orgasm denial, objectification, dumbification, degradation, dirty talk, cumplay, cum swallowing, exhibitionism, public fingering, 

For much of the night, Kim Taehyung is quiet. He rests on the crème couch, cat eyes observing you through the mirror. Outside, pink skies fade to indigo and crickets popcorn beneath the underbrush; the pattering of your feet against the practice room floor accompanies it. It has been hours since workers have clocked out and the last buses have run, but he knows this.

Your manager of two years is not known for the saccharine politeness of his peers nor the pedantic nature of his seniors. Instead, he is blunt. Reserved. An intrinsic part of your life whom you’d grown reliant on as winter faded to summer and back again.

His diligence is not due to principle but rather habit – if it wasn’t for you, he would be watching cable, cigarette ash tainting work clothes he was too tired to change out of. Instead, he waits—regardless of overtime—to drive you to your apartment where he bids you a weary ‘bye’ only to pick you up three hours later. He doesn’t need to, but he does. A habit.

But as entangled as your lives have grown, he has always kept a distance; hence your intrigue when he approaches you post-practice where he would have ignored you altogether.

“You look tired,” he says in the disinterested tone you’d come to expect.

He studies you through the floor-length mirrors as you spread your legs in a stretch. You had been shy once, all too aware of how little your leggings left to the imagination, but Taehyung’s blank stares had assuaged those thoughts long ago.

You admit, his ignorance bothers you. He is there, but he is not, with all the presence of drapery that sways only when a window is ajar.

“I’m fine,” you say – and you are, for the most part. “Just a little sore.”

“Where does it hurt?”

You dismiss his verbosity as a sign of your own palpable fatigue. “No, it’s just that my shoulders feel like shit.”

“Do you need help?” His fingers flutter before your face. “I could give you a massage.”

As the sole target of his scoldings, the notion of such a Samaritan action is laughable. “Oh, really? You?”

“Why not?” Cherry-tinted lips twitch. “Can’t have your body breaking down on me before your comeback.”

His tongue pokes his cheek and he cracks his knuckles; the sound draws you to the length of his fingers, callused and long. The kind meant to caress piano keys or draw pleasure from a crooning lover. You think of those hands on you, enkindling a different type of satisfaction.

You are pulled to face the mirror as he stands behind you. “Like this,” he says, the ball of his wrist gliding against your upper back. His hands are rough as he kneads, tugging and pressing on the skin as he would dough, a harshness that should hurt but doesn’t. He moves closer, his pulsing heat a reminder of his proximity.

Sandalwood, you realize. That’s what he smells like.

You breathe it in as if the rest of him would follow. Once, twice. Then exhale as he finds a particular knot between your shoulders.

“Your muscles are so tight,” he says, with all the wispy quality of a fever dream.

It’s wanton to clench at such an innocent usage of the word but you do, thighs rubbing against each other in pursuit of friction.

The siren song of his whisper dallies close to your ear’s cusp. “You’ve really been overworking yourself. I guess this is sort of my fault, huh?” He heaves a great sigh. “It’s only right that I make up for it then.”

You nod, unable to part your lips for fear of the sounds that would surface. Had you always been so weak, you wonder, the tickle of his breath inches from your neck enough to compose your compliance. Comets of ideas, bad and worse, streak past your musings. You pluck one, entertaining the thought of grinding against his length until it hardens between your ass.

You instantly berate yourself though your underwear moistens still.

Your manager. He’s your manager. A person of whom your mortification would be parried, and your chagrin discarded. Such constant proximity would be unbearable if awkward, and Taehyung, as curt as he is, means too much to you to be cast aside due to your own lack of restraint.

Stood before a mirror, there is nothing else to focus on but the reflected image of him behind you. There’s no particular difference in his wardrobe today: a beige cardigan, dark jeans, and pale sneakers, reminiscent of a History major, art connoisseur, or both. Curled obsidian hair drapes along the curve of his eyes, eyes focused on his ministrations against your back. One would expect a more formal way of dress, but considering that most of his job revolves around following your schedule all day there’s no reason to.

He grins when he catches you staring.

You scoff, face burning. “What?”

“Don’t you think you’ll feel better if I massage you while you’re lying down?”

His hands rub your bare arms, coaxing a reply out of your quiet contemplation. You hesitate – not out of wariness, but rather embarrassment that he may find a swift reply too eager. Though he is not one to heartlessly poke fun at another, you attempt as casual a shrug as your nerves can handle.

He leads you by a gentle grip on your wrist to the spacious couch opposite where you’d been standing. The same couch he spends most of his time on while waiting for your practices to end.

He motions for you to flip over and lie down on your stomach with a swirl of his finger. The action combined with your obedience is almost dog-like, but you are so deeply entrenched in his spell that if he told you to bark you would.

Face planted into a pillow, you can hear his shuffling as he kneels atop you outside your thighs. He rubs circles against your shoulders, leaning forward to whisper: “Feels good?”

Below, your core aches like the starved, demanding sustenance.

“Sure,” you say, settling on the least innocuous of words. “You’re like… strangely good at this.”

“Good enough to switch careers? I don’t think the pay would be as good, though.”

“I wouldn’t be there either, so that would suck. For you.”

There’s a playful frown in his tone. “Oh, yes, because how could I ever go about my day-to-day life without you in it?”

He’s joking but you do wonder what he does outside of managing you. If he has hobbies, passions, friends… or a significant other he does this to. To be candid, the thought irks you.

“Are you sore anywhere else?” he asks, having focused on your shoulders.

You respond with a breathless ‘yes’, turning your head to meet his gaze. “My lower back.”

His fingers are a paradox of frigid and warm as he grazes your neck, making his way down your spine, then shoulders, then upper arms. He sits astride your ass, touch gliding against the exposed skin below your top. He digs into your muscles as if trying to see what is buried beneath them.

He’s never touched you so purposefully before.

He’s never done much of any of this before.

Talking. Touching. Tempting.

“Is it cool if I lift your shirt?” he asks. “It’s getting in the way.”

Your breath hitches, your heart races, and somewhere outside the company building the horn of a taxi startles you out of reverie.

“Go ahead.” You nod, helping him help you out of the shirt.

He’s clinical as he folds it and places it on the hardwood flooring. He doesn’t look at your bra—a gray, sporty number—and avoids touching the fabric as he continues.

A few blissful minutes pass when he says that he has an idea.

He gets up, walks to your bag, and (without needing to ask) locates the lotion you keep in a pouch. Settling back down, his crotch nestles between the warmth of your ass. The plastic pump splashes white cream onto your back which he massages into the skin.

“Does that feel better?” he asks, hands gliding across the exposed flesh. It smells like nectar on his hands and feels like ambrosia against your skin. His touch is overwhelming, every caress casting electricity straight to your lower stomach.

“My abdomen hurts too.” The words are a muffled whisper against the throw pillow your face is buried in.

“Then, turn over,” he says, as if it’s that simple. Perhaps, to him it is. Perhaps, this is all in your head, that lightning-charged static in the air. 

He moves up, allowing space for you to roll over.

When he sits down his crotch directly presses against your clothed cunt.

His pinky rests against your chest, moving with the sound of your breathing. It slips slightly beneath the stretch of fabric, poking the flesh. You hold your breath until you can’t– until your lungs demand air as much as your body demands his.

You hold his wrist. “Is my bra getting in the way too?”

His adam's apple bobs, pretty eyes flickering between you and your concealed chest. “A bit,” he shrugs, sliding another finger beneath the underwire.

Your voice is raspy, the way one sounds when in thirst. “Then you should remove it.”

He moves with the grace of a caught deer, watching your face for any sign of hesitation. Your back arches, allowing his hand to slip underneath and unclip it.  He slides the straps down your arms, inch by inch, giving you time to say no. You don’t, not able to even fathom the thought of doing so.

He drinks in your chest and the erect nipples standing in the centers of them with dilated pupils and hooded eyes. You imagine that he thinks you’re gorgeous, that it takes all of his will-power not to ravage you on that couch as beasts often do. It is that need to be made into poetry under his gaze that you push your chest upward, seeking his warmth.

He stills your squirming with a hand to your sternum. “Don’t move,” he says, a command you heed the moment it leaves his lips.

The rough pads of his fingers graze your hips then stomach before resting beneath the cusp of your chest. You are hyper-aware of every movement, every stutter, every pulse – if only so that you don’t miss that cataclysmic moment when his hands finally cup the flesh that hides your stampeding heart.

He grips you carefully, digging moon-shaped indents on your skin. Your nipples rest within the crevice of his outstretched fingers, surrounded yet untouched.

“This isn’t a good angle.” He pouts, looking around before finding the tossed pillows. Your back is moved into an arch as he tucks one of them beneath the small of your back, causing your chest to jut out from where you lay. He grins, satisfied.

His hands go back to your chest, working from the outside in circular motions, avoiding your nipples. He then reaches for the lotion bottle, pumping more of the white cream onto you.

“Do you like this?” He asks, fingers dragging around your slippery tits.

“Yeah, it feels really good.”

“Really good, huh?” He laughs when your body jerks at his finger brushing against your nipple. “How about this? Are you sensitive here?”

You groan when he pinches the bud. “What do you think?”

“No one’s giving them enough attention, huh?”

To your embarrassment, you whine when he moves his hands away.

“Shh, you don’t want to be caught getting special treatment from your manager, do you? Unless… that’s the sort of thing you’re into?” He laughs, eyes blown out as he watches you panic. You’ve never seen that look on him before.

“What the hell are you talking about, you dick?”

“Nothing.” He bites his lower lip in an attempt to quell his laughter. If you weren’t insanely horny at the moment then you would’ve been better able to appreciate the rarity of such a display of emotion. “You’re just being really cute right now acting all shy when all I’m doing is giving you a massage. You said you were tired, so I’m helping you.” He squeezes your tits. “That’s part of my job, isn’t it?”

You scoff. “You mean this is you being a pervert. I can feel your definitely average-sized cock hard as hell against me.”

Taehyung gasps as if that was the most insulting thing he’d ever heard. “Okay, three things: one, I’m not a pervert; two, my cock is definitely not average; and three, if you want me to stop then tell me and we can pretend that this never happened. Or, you know, if the pretending fails then we could just die from the inescapable awkwardness. That’d be fine too.”

Trust that he was only ever talkative when he wanted to bother you. You roll your eyes, mumbling: “Well, I didn’t say that…”

His gaze meets yours, dark and tempting. “Then what do you want from your poor, overworked manager?”

You answer by moving his hand back to your chest. “Nothing much,” you say coyly, though what you mean is ‘everything’.

His nails scratch tight circles around each bud, teasing you. He watches your wide-eyed desperation with amusement, alternating between fanning his fingers over the points and holding them between his slippery fingers, squeezing them until they slip out of his grip.

He blows phantom winds against the mounds, hardening them into stalactites. He rocks against you, hips against hips, crotch against crotch, stimulating your clit through the sheer fabric of your leggings. You whine and pant with every motion.

“You’re so noisy. Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” The word leaves you before you can fake nonchalance.

“Then be a good girl and focus on my service.”

Though he’d always been the strict type, you weren’t one to be so obedient: to follow his every command, bend at his will, become a pliable figure; to crave escape through the form of mindlessness. Between his periodic seeking of consent and cautious eyes, you feel safe, safe to drown in his touch and never resurface. You know, even then, that despite the blasé way you were both treating this moment, it was one that neither of you could take back.

He scoots backwards from where he sat on your thighs, moving your feet over his lap. From this angle, he is sure to notice the wet outline of your labia through your leggings.

The soles of your feet are a slight vermillion from having danced barefoot for the past three hours, and he briefly rubs them before moving upwards, to your ankles, your knees, your thighs. It is with an anxious draw of breath that you await his touch at your most sensitive center.

“Where do you want me to touch you?”

“Anywhere,” you say. “As long as you keep doing it.”

“I’m going to need a specific place, sweetheart.”

Head tossed back, you whine. “Just- Come on, Taehyung.”

He kneads your outer thighs, scarcely exerting pressure. “Is this what you want?”

“Please. There. Touch me there. It hurts.”

He chuckles beneath his breath. “Poor baby. I’m sorry, but I don't know where ‘there’ is. Oh, I have an idea. How about you show it to me?” He moves to give you enough space. “Come on, show me where and how you want to be touched.”

You, the rational you, would have been unable to process the erotic words coming from your manager’s lips. These are the whispers you’d conjured in daydreams with not even the hope of being subject. But you aren’t the rational you. The you beneath Taehyung is someone else entirely, someone caught in a dream without desire to wake.

Your hands crawl to the waistband of your leggings but hesitate at the breach.

“Don’t be shy. I know how you like to play with your little cunt in hotel showers, even though you know I’m waiting outside the door, subject to hearing your pretty moans. I’ve always wondered how you pleasured yourself, if you liked to finger your sopping hole until you passed out or if you preferred to press the stream of a shower head against your clit.”

Whilst your right hand sneaks its way into your underwear, your left slaps to your lips, rushed to suppress a gasp. “Are you actually trying to kill me? Have some fucking decorum. And what do you mean you heard me?”

“Decorum? I’m not the one touching myself where anyone could walk in and catch me.”

You didn’t even realize when you’d started the teasing motions, fingers caressing your outer labia.

You scoff. “You’re acting like you weren’t salivating over my tits a few minutes ago.”

“Is that what you want? Me salivating over your tits?”

His hair, like strands of inky silk, drape over eyes that refuse to part from your gaze. He is warm where he touches you, cold where he doesn’t, and temperate only when he mouths against your skin, marking you, in some invisible way, as his own. Your gasp echoes in that cave-like room, his lips an inferno keeping you sane. He nibbles at your breasts, teeth tugging at the perked tips. His spit dribbles down your flesh.

“So soft. I’ve always wondered what you taste like.” His mumbles vibrate against your skin.

You press tight circles against your clit at the same pace as Taehyung’s tongue against your nipples. The sounds, wet and sticky, are loud to an embarrassing degree.

“Baby, look at you. At this rate you’re going to dirty the couch, and then who’s gonna have to clean it? Maybe if I’m too tired I’ll have you lick it spotless instead.”

You push a finger inside, curling the digit with a gasp.

“Interesting.” He grins. “So, you do like it when I treat you like this. I knew it.”

“You talk way too much when you’re horny.”

“Only because it’s you,” he says. “You turn me into an absolute mess.”

“Is that why you only talk to me when you want to scold me?” It’s a childish question. His attention wasn’t yours to have, a fact you’ve grown well-acquainted to.

“Because I knew something like this–” he licks your neck “–was inevitable, and that it’d be my fault. Though… I’m starting to think you’re the type that likes to be scolded.” 

His face is inches from yours. The span of a butterfly’s wings, or a fallen autumn leaf. You prop yourself up with the arm that isn’t beneath your leggings, breaching the gap ever so slowly. “So, you imagined it, then? Something like this happening?”

“It usually went a little different.”

“How so?”

“Well, I’d already be fucking you, for starters. And I’d probably initiate it with something less lame than ‘offering a massage’.” He notices your slowing hand and laughs. “Tired, already? You really are such a princess. Do you want me to do it for you?”

You nod, though you should have known nothing ever came easy with Kim Taehyung.

His fingers creep up your legs before squeezing your thighs open. Between, a wet spot darkens the fabric, and he notices it with a smugness that annoys you. He moves your arm away before palming your wet cunt from outside your leggings. The touch is electrifying yet not nearly enough to sate you. As if sensing your dissatisfaction, he slips his hand beneath the cloth, directly touching your clit.

He sloppily plays with your juices, spreading them around your pussy. Deeming you wet enough, he sinks a finger into your warmth. The squelch sound is inescapable as he begins a moderate pace. You squeeze your eyes tight enough for your world to burst into starlight, flecks of shimmery white floating across your vision.

He lifts his hand to your face, and you could smell your moisture before you saw it, viscous strands hanging between his fingers. “Look at this,” he says. “They’re soaking wet.”

Without thought, you take his fingers into your mouth, rolling your tongue around the digits. You’d never tasted yourself before. It’s more sour than you imagined, but not as bad as one would expect.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises. “What’re you making that face for? Do you want more?”

You release his fingers. “Fuck, please just touch me.”

He leans over you, nibbling at your ear before whispering: “Too bad.”

All too abruptly, he startles you by clapping his hands and standing up. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”

You blink, dumbfounded. “To… fuck?”

He laughs, glancing at his watch. “As much as I would love that, I’m still your manager. And you have to be awake by eight,” he explains with a normalcy unsuited for your half-clothed, aroused state.

“Are we really not going to even talk about-”

He tosses you your shirt and bra.

“Thanks…” You don the clothes in haste. “And for the massage. Though, it was missing one thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“An orgasm,” you deadpan.

“Well, there’s always the option of getting me fired, though I’d prefer to keep my livelihood sustained, thanks.”

“Don’t give me ideas,” you joke. “And here I was thinking you’d risk it all for me.”

“I’d risk a lot of things for you, but definitely not if seeing you around everyday was at stake.”

A grin forms on his tinted lips as he turns before you can gather your words. The door slams shut behind his harried exit and you are left, alone.

Several suns have set and risen, and on the eighth turning you decide you’d had enough of his boyish disregard. You recall being eight, blithe with even the gentle breeze lifting autumn leaves into tangerine storms. Boys at that age were difficult, if they weren’t picking at you they were ignoring you altogether, huddled into little clubs of their own. Every attempt at breaching their sanctified playground circles result in them scurrying in all directions, like mice caught lurking in a kitchen. Taehyung didn’t seem much different.

When he picked you up on the morning after that first intimacy, he had nary a word to say. Even a glance too many had his ears reddening and shoulders curling in, as if it were possible to shrink himself small enough to be unseen. He, who’d eat in his car if he weren’t eating with you, found himself talking to the other staff, if only to avoid your confrontation disposition as he knew you were loath to interrupt an uninvited conversation.

Prior to the current state of tension, you’d jokingly asked him to guess what your astrological sign was. His immediate guess was Taurus. As your manager, he was the one most subjected to your stubbornness, your unwillingness to give up if only to prove a point. But you—impatient, tired you—were reaching your limit.

Yes, you were stubborn, but you hadn’t realized how his obstination could rival your own. And more than your missing and wanting of him, the question of ‘why’ burned trails along your musings. Why? Why was he avoiding you when: one, he’d been the one to initiate the tryst; two, during the moment, he’d joked of things being too awkward (and surely joking about things being awkward meant that things weren’t awkward enough to not be joked about); and three, he had acted as if everything was fine until that dreadful morning after, when he picked you up from your apartment (as he always did) except with not a word to say or a glance to spare.

Yes, indeed, you were stubborn. It was how you’d gotten this far in such a consuming career, but you were sure that you’d have given up at this point – he was just a man after all, and you had other problems of greater consequence. However, there was one thing stopping you from ceasing the pursuit.

Alone in your apartment, you are unafraid of moaning or indulging in the characteristic sticky sound of masturbation. That wetness spurs you into speed. A rush to completion. It is more out of necessity than pleasure, and the pace of your fingers exhibit that. You don’t bother fingering yourself, finding the notion too tiring. Instead, your focus is on your clit and massaging tight circles against the protective skin covering it.

You’ve become an expert of your own body, having so few sexual partners over the years. The risk of dating was high for idols, and you’d found that the few times you had risked it it was never sex worth losing one’s career for.

You know how much pressure to apply against the nub, teasing yourself at the edge long enough to draw out the pleasure. Your other hand lazily drapes across your chest, softly gliding across the skin just as Taehyung had that week before.

You’d be quite the fool to not notice how he coughs into his fist, ears red, when he notices your staring, or the subtle ways he checks you out when he thinks you aren’t looking (that much, at least, hasn’t changed).

By this point, you’d masturbated to him and that moment on the couch one too many times.

When you cum it is not as satisfying as it should be. It is but a relief of pressure rather than a gateway to ecstasy. There’s something missing, though to question what it is would be a benign pursuit for you already know the answer.

It is then, winded and shaking, that you come to the conclusion you’d been dreading.

You need to fuck Kim Taehyung… and then you’d figure out it why it is that your heart aches so.

The car’s hum permeates the air and settles on your skin unpleasantly, as if trapping you in its needly weight. Suffocating. There is no better word for it.

When his eyes flicker from the road to you, it is even worse. You hate that he looks good: styled hair, pressed clothes, expensive cologne. But what you hate most is that you don’t see any of it. Instead there is the image of him above you, cock sliding in as if nothing could fit better.

It isn’t silent from a lack of trying, but after the hundredth attempt at conversation you’d grown tired.

He has not regarded you once despite you wearing his favorite outfit (a favoritism you’d deduced when he glanced at you one too many when you’d last worn it). The corduroy atop his thighs becomes his handkerchief, more to wipe sweaty palms against than a piece of clothing.

When he makes a sharp right turn, your hand on the center console knocks against his.

He jumps but plays it off, turning off the blinker and pressing closer to the door than he had been.

You sigh. “Do I have some infectious disease I should know about? That’d be pretty bad for my career.”

He blinks at you, catches himself staring, then turns back to the road.

“No,” he answers plainly.

“You aren’t even gonna berate me for sleeping in this morning?” Tired from last night’s self-ministrations, you slept through your alarms, leaving him waiting in the car for over an hour. On a normal day, he would’ve spent the entire trip either glaring at you or complaining. He did neither.

“You must’ve been tired,” he said.

“Remember what happened last time I was sore and tired?”

He sucks a breath between his teeth, gives you an incredulous look of shock, then proceeds to pretend as if you’d said nothing.

In a series of losses, you consider that a win.

Emboldened, you lean across the controls and press your hand on his thigh, your face so dangerously close to his that you could smell the mintiness of his aftershave. You’d always liked the cleanliness in which he prided himself on. Smoking, he’d always joked, was his only flaw. When stressed, he had a tendency to hit a few sticks more than usual. It didn’t take a genius to surmise the reason as to why, despite the sun’s low place in the sky, you could smell that more-than-few on him. You were both figuratively and literally bad for his health.

He sneaks a glance down your chest, cleavage revealed by the low cut of your top. He’d always been so fond of your breasts, those soft curves of flesh that he spent so much time fondling when he had the chance to. He gulps before looking away.

“Oh, sorry,” you say, coyly. His grip on the wheel twitches as he contemplates removing your hand from his thigh but thinks otherwise, perhaps rationalizing that touching your hand in order to remove it was also a bad move in his plan to pretend you were but a figment of a mind tortured to want what it shouldn’t have.

The main road close to the company building appears before you, a heavy strip of crowded cars anxious to make it in time to their corporate rat living.

You glance downwards. “Did I make you hard?”

He makes a choking sound, knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel because the answer is yes, you had. The stiff texture of his pants only heightens the image of his cock struggling beneath, forming a tent you have to look away from lest it distract you from your mission. “I have to focus on driving.”

A pointed look is thrown his way as you gesture towards the windscreen. “We’re going to be stuck in this traffic for probably more than twenty minutes,” you say, untucking his button-up from his pants. Your hands press against his toned stomach, making a home beneath his shirt. “Aren’t you bored?”

“Out of the two of us, I don’t think I’m the bored one.” He turns to face you, putting his hand atop yours. “Did you really like it that much? Me touching you? I’m starting to think that your excuse this morning was a lie. You were probably just playing with yourself, am I wrong?”

“Half wrong,” you grin. “I wasn’t fucking myself this morning.” You press your lips against his ear, chest against his shoulder. “I was fucking myself last night.”

He curses, head thrown back at the notion. “Has anyone ever told you how blunt you are?”

“You do,” you say. “Constantly.”

“That’s because you are.”

“Then what does that make you?”

“A horny fuck, who, by some stroke of luck, got paired to work for an idol that’s somehow even more depraved.”

Though you laugh, relief surges through you at the familiarity of his bantering. “Define ‘depraved’.”

He pushes your hand to his waistband. “This,” he says, as if it is some grotesque and beautiful thing. “How badly I want you.”

You unzip his pants and untuck his cock from his briefs. He’s larger than you’d expected; long yet girthy. You run a finger down the appendage, catching on the prominent veins.

“God,” he hisses at the contact. “You’ve been such a slut recently, it was only a matter of time before you did this, huh? Touching my cock where anyone could see.”

The flesh of him is soft and warm beneath your fingertips. You squeeze the head then trail down to the base, cupping his balls.

He’s beautiful when he moans. His head tosses back, curls cascading over shut eyes as he attempts to move away from the pleasure all the while begging for you not to stop. A beautiful paradox, and you its orchestrator.

“Right there,” he groans. “Rub the head just like that.”

His commands are hypnotic in a way you deign to follow.

“Shit, you’re such a sub, aren’t you? You do everything I ask you to if it means you get a nice, thick cock.”

Despite your forwardness, you lacked much experience regarding the kinkier side of sex, though not from lack of trying. Perhaps it was the consequence of a homogenous industry where every individual was fearful in the face of social ruin if word got out that they were participant in this or that.

“Maybe, I am.” You shrug. “But right now–” you squeeze his cock “–you’re in my hands. And you only get to cum when I say you can.”

With that, you take your hands off him. The look in his eyes is almost comical, as if you’d divorced him, taken custody of his three children, and set his house ablaze.

“Fuck. I was close,” he pleads. “Please don’t do this. I need to cum. Please.”

“You sound so pretty when you whine but that isn’t good enough.” You pout. “You need to promise that you’ll stop being awkward around me.”

“Shit, fine, I’m sorry, okay? I just didn’t want to make things more weird than they already are.”

“See, I want to make things weird between us. So there’s really nothing for you to worry about.”

“You seriously don’t understand how much I think about fucking you on a daily basis. I wasn’t even purposely trying to ignore you, it’s just-” He runs a hand through his hair. “Whenever I see you I…” You wait for him to find his words only for him to say something entirely unexpected. “...Can I cum in your mouth?”

You snort. “Nope, you don’t deserve that.”

“Aw, man. This car was just deep cleaned.”

“C’mon, Taehyung, cum on your dashboard like a big boy.”

You continue your ministrations, tightening your fist around his length as you stroke him faster and faster. “You know you wanna cum for me, don’t you? Tae’s precious little idol.”

His reaction to the nickname you’d heard his colleagues call him was not missed by you.

“Fuck,” he groans, head tilting back. “Say that again.”

“What? Tae?”

His cock twitches. “I don’t know why, but I really like it when you say my name.”

You lean in to whisper. “Then I’ll make sure to scream it when you inevitably fuck me.”

His eyes blink white, head slamming into the headrest. His cock twitches, then releases. You try to catch most of the mess in your hands but some escape onto his shirt and, unfortunately for him, his dashboard.

“You know what you’re doing, hm? My little slut. Made me cum so fast, baby.” He condescendingly pats your head as you help him wipe down the few strings of cum that misaimed.

“Far shooter, huh?”

“Shut up,” he huffs. “What about you? With how much you’ve been chasing after me, you must’ve wanted me that bad.” He nips at your ear. “Let me touch you.”

You feel his teeth drag against your skin, from your nape to your collarbone. You’re aware of the brush of his lips, the warmth of his breath, and the way he is pressed so close against you. Across the console, he reaches to slip his hand beneath the band of your bottoms. It is a familiar motion, reminiscent of what happened on the couch that night.

He wastes little time as his finger glides into you with an embarrassing squelch. You feel the rough pad rub against your g-spot, amazed at the swiftness in which he’d found it. Your walls tighten around him when he inserts a second then third digit.

“You’re so fucking tight. I want to bury my cock into this slutty hole so badly, you don’t even know,” he groans into your neck. His hand roughly paws at your chest. In want of more, he lifts your shirt, baring your chest to the traffic. “Thank god for tinted windows.”

He pinches your nipples, tugging them until they’ve extended farther than you’ve ever tried to. “My perfect little fuckdoll. My good fucking slut. All for me– only for me.” Hand confined in the tightness of your trousers, every motion caused his palm to slap against your skin, perfectly blending pleasure and pain.

He continues to rapidly finger you until you feel that telltale drop in the bottom of your stomach. He holds you as you cum, body shaking in the small space of the passenger’s seat. The fledgling feeling in your gut erupts with the incandescent sparks of some other foreign emotion. You wonder if it is happiness, or perhaps some remnant of lust. But then he looks at you—eyes soft as he caresses your hair, trailing fingers to your nape—and you think that it is the beginning of something else entirely.

“You good?” His voice is faint as he pulls you to face him. His flickering gaze searches your expression for some sign of hesitation or regret of which you have none.

“Yeah, I’m good. You?”

“Same here.” He smiles. “Don’t blame me though if you have a hard time during practice.”

You punch his shoulder with a chuckle, serenity descending upon you in the afterglow of a cause of stress meeting its resolution.

After lunch you see a carton of orange juice sitting innocently on that couch, a small sticky-note attached to it. In clean handwriting, it read: ‘a peace offering’.

You laugh, stabbing the plastic straw into the carton.

You’d take it.

Kim Taehyung has always thought your beauty was the kind that accompanied devastation; attractive in a way that halted his breath and stymied his heart. Perhaps a bit too much for his sanity and his cock, which has been rubbed raw to the thought of you one too many times. You are much too pretty for his own good, and it has grown increasingly difficult to be around you without wanting to fuck you against every surface imaginable.

It’s made worse by the mask of nymph-like innocence that you wear around him, wearing those tight leggings and parading your pretty pussy for everyone to see. He knows you aren’t his. Knows it with all the confidence of blue skies and steady lakes, but there are times, strenuous times, where it is difficult to control the possessive nature he is chained by. When his co-workers mention how sexy you are in your latest comeback teasers he simply clenches his fists and stays quiet lest said fists pummel their faces. He isn’t a violent man by any means (and definitely wouldn’t stand a chance in a real fight, because, as his friends have said, he’d never do anything that could potentially ruin his pretty face) but he entertains the thought as a way to keep sane when forced to listen to their ramblings.

When he has to stand behind you during fansigns, he can’t help the bitter feeling that rises in his gut when you hold hands with fans he knows could never know you in the same intimacy that he does. When they talk about how much they love you, an indignant voice in his head fights back: do they know about all the pretty little lingerie you keep in the back of your closet? Do they know about how bad you are at hiding your moans when you play with your pretty pussy in hotel showers knowing that he’s waiting for you outside? Do they know the soft texture of your tits and the way your eyes roll back when he plays with your nipples just right?

It’s an irrational sort of jealousy, but he’s learned to bear it as part of the occupation. There are times, however, where it is much more arduous a task, such as the massage of last week and the car ride of yesterday.

The feeling is not one he is fond of; how at odds his desire to ruin you is with his one to have you ruin him. Such had been a constant in the past year. Blame proximity or his lowered standards of human decency after having worked with only the most heinous people in the industry – you were kind, even when you needn’t be, even when you shouldn’t have been. And it ached somewhere beneath his chest that you thought him deserving of it.

He knows such feelings are ones not meant for him to have, but he has long since been past the denial that it was only but a physical sort of affection. However, even with your initiation of yesterday’s tryst, he doesn’t allow himself to indulge in you in a manner less carnal; his gaze lustful as you prepare for a livestream.

You glance at him once as if sensing the shift in the air before you press ‘start’.

As your manager, he has to be in the room for most of your activities, even the boring ones – but he can think of a few ways to make it less so. For him and you.

You greet your fans with a laugh that is akin to sunlight bursting through foliage. “Of course I missed you guys, it’s why I’m doing this live right now.”

Your company-issued phone, to read and answer comments, is slid across the table with a note meant only for you: ‘Want to play a game, good girl?’

Though your eyes widen, you type your reply in the guise of looking through your fans’ messages, ever the professional. Your glance towards his phone is pointed and when he checks it he sees the notification of your text. ‘I don’t know what you’re planning, you horny fuck, but if you think I’m losing in any game then you’re on.’

There is little ceremony in how he drops to his knees to move underneath, cautious to keep silent. The table tall enough to situate himself. Oh, how he wishes he could see your reaction. He focuses on your voice: the hesitation in which you resume speaking; the hitch in your breath as he spreads your legs; the tremble in your tone as he places his hands on your thighs.

The sight of you beneath is lewd. Your underwear, a simple cotton gray piece, is already soaked. He’d always loved the color gray, especially because of how obvious it made wetness appear.

He allowed himself a moment to appreciate everything about you. The softness of your thighs. The stretch marks on your hips. The dotted marks that lined your legs. His nose grazes your knee, breathing in the saltiness of your sweat. How badly he wants to eat you up. To wholly consume you and spit you out in broken pieces, forced to crawl back to him in order to be fixed. It’s a horrible thought, he’s well aware, but he can’t help but be fixated on the idea that you might want that as well.

Your skin is as silken as he remembers, but touching it feels utterly different, stark raving mad; he leans into that sentiment, urgent in his need to pull you closer and kiss your thigh harder, desperately starved for something he could not yet name.

He imagines it difficult for you to read through the comments let alone reply to them when his hands are caressing your waist and playing with the garter of your underwear. Blood rushes to his cock at the sighs you release every time he teasingly dips his fingers past the fabric. You’re so pretty and perfect for him, his little slut.

Phone in hand, he sends: ‘Your pussy’s so wet for me already, baby. Do you want me to eat you out?’

It’s easy to surmise when you receive it, a light gasp disrupting your sentence.

He struggles to hold his laughter when your consent is given through a grab of his hair and a shove towards your crotch. Satisfied with your enthusiasm, his lips caress you above the fabric, catching against your clit but not wanting to give you what you want. Not yet.

He teases you for ten minutes, licking up and down your clothed cunt until the fabric is fully darkened – only then does he push it aside to expose your pussy lips to him completely. Having tested the patience of both you and him, he wastes little time in capturing your clit between his lips, suctioning onto it whilst swirling his tongue.

You spread your legs wider to give more access, allowing him to move from your clit to your tight hole, slowly edging his tongue inside it. Building up the pace, he begins fucking you with it whilst rubbing your clit with two fingers in quick circular motions.

He gathers his spit around his finger before pushing the moisture into you. You lewdly clench around the digit, sucking him deeper into your depths, just as he thought you would. You’re always so good for him. He could just picture your humiliated face as he slaps his cock around your cheeks, wiping your tears and his cum around your skin. He knows you’re a pretty crier, and he’s never wanted anything more than to see those tears be caused by him.

Another finger is pushed in. Then a third. But he knows you can take it – knows that you’d be able to take everything he gives you.

When your thighs begin to stiffen and you clench around his fingers—the tell-tale sign that you’re close to completion—he stops.

He shoots off another text. ‘What a horny fucking slut, getting fingered in front of her fans like this. I wonder what they’d think if they knew how you were really like. Just a pliant little bitch who’s always ready to slut herself out at her manager’s every whim. Don’t tell me you think you deserve to cum just because you want to?’

Above, he can hear your sardonic chuckles as your knuckles wrap against the table in obvious frustration.

“I know this was a short one, but I have to go practice. I’m sorry for leaving you guys hanging,” you say with blatant venom, kicking his shoulder beneath the table. “Bye!”

He pinches your thigh in retaliation.

Before you can kick him again, he stills your leg with a firm grip.

Accepting your loss with a sigh, you rush to turn the live off, gaping at him when emerges from where he’d knelt. “What was that for?”

He grins, gums showing. “Revenge for what happened in the car. I was scolded by upper management for bringing you late, y’know?”

You punch his shoulder. “At least I let you cum… asshole. This is the second time you’ve blue-balled me.”

“Good thing I prepared this, then.” In his hand is another carton of orange juice. “Peace offering?”

“If a thousand won juice is your form of a white flag then I must say you’re quite stingy.”

“Hey, you’re the rich one in our relationship.”

“Oh, so we have a relationship now?”

His smile drops slightly as he rubs his nape. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t think I do, actually.” Though you’re smiling, your eyes are serious, searching his for an answer that he knows he’s not yet ready to give. “I-”

He grabs your hand and places the carton in your grasp. “I’ll get you two orange juices next time, alright?”

‘Next time’, he thinks. It’s the closest thing to an answer he can give you.

The establishment of your newfound ‘relationship’ was one suffused with clandestine trysts in storage rooms and cars, and yet it had never gone past touching and tasting as if it were an unspoken rule. You sensed it in the hesitancy upon which he laid kisses across your neck and jaw, never moving upwards. There was a fragility to his movements that gave you pause as time went on and words left unspoken remained so. Taehyung was gentle even when he called you his whore, and what began as ways to relieve each others’ stress led to hours spent in the afterglow talking about anything under the weather.

What you appreciated most (even more than the times he’d go down on you for hours) were the rare glimpses into his thoughts when he’d let his guard down. His rants about how his friends sucked ass at gaming, him bringing the new mechanical keyboard he’d splurged on just to show off to you his custom-made keys, him quitting smoking when you nagged about the smell and how he subsequently would complain to you about withdrawals before having you suck him off to relieve his other urges.

You wanted to lurk upon every crevice of his mind, know every secret he held close, and you know he craved it just the same. You each felt the devastation of fear, hesitation; you shared moments lovely and small, sat beneath midnight stars in the back of his car, insignificant in the face of endlessness. A month in each other’s company and you’d grown to understand that you wanted more from him than carnality.

It is why it is no surprise to you to find his glare pointed towards the man you’re flirting with. In an effort to leave practice early to meet with friends, your hand lingers on your instructor’s arm, pleading desperation alongside a promise to work twice as hard the next day. Men are easy that way, and the next thing you know he gives you permission with a nod.

…And on the other hand, there are men like Taehyung.

“You really think you’re getting out of it that easily?”

You point at the emptied room. “Seems so.”

He scoffs with crossed arms, the definition of intimidation with his bangs casting shadows across his eyes. “You’ve been getting out of breath too quickly during dry runs.”

“I’ve been getting exercise through other means, don’t worry.” Your eyebrows wiggle.

“I’m sure your newly developed neck and hand muscles will help after hours of performing.”

“I think you’re just jealous,” you say.

His laugh is hollow, forced from the depths of some aching thing. “And why would I feel that?”

“Because you like me but you don’t want to admit it,” you say with a shrug. “And you use the whole ‘manager and idol’ thing as an excuse when really you’re just a pussy.”

There is little he can do to hinder the shocked guffaw that parts his lips at your blunt observation. “Confident, are we?”

“Very, actually.”

He shakes his head but smiles in exasperation. “What am I going to do with you?”

“A lot of things, I hope.” You wrap your hands around his shoulders, pulling him in closer.

“I thought you had somewhere to be.” His nose brushes against your neck, the warmth of his breath scattering goosebumps across your skin.

“My friends can wait,” you say. “I can bless them with the honor of my presence in another hour or two.”

“Oh, am I supposed to be honored that you’re choosing to spend time with me, then?”

“Don’t you know how charitable I am even if you can be kind of a dick sometimes. Or, well, all the time. But that’s just semantics.”

He hums in response, arms around your waist tightening.

“You never answered my question,” you remind him.

His brow raises. “And you never answered mine: do you really think I’m going to just let you play hooky?”

“Well, I was hoping to offer you something a little more fun than watching me exercise.” You trail your hand down his arm, nails scratching along his veins.

“Oh,” he scoffs. “Is that the same thing you were offering him?”

“I’m yours, aren’t I?”

He tilts your chin upwards. “You wanna be my object tonight, baby? Is that what you’re saying?” Taehyung tended to be all bark but no bite, but the embers lit beneath his pupils indicated that this time would be different.

“Is that even a question?” you reply.

You bite your bottom lip in anticipation, only to be met with: “Then do fifty jumping jacks. Now.”

“You’re joking, but I thought-”

“Objects aren’t supposed to think. They just do as they’re commanded... Or so your favorite erotic novel alpha males always say.”

You give him a pointed look. “Yeah, the key word being ‘erotic novel’, not ‘workout manual’.”

He holds his hands up beside his head in defense, making a face. “I’m doing this for you. And besides…” He takes a step towards you, caressing your chest. “We can always multitask.”

You groan but comply, though the feeling of doing that specific exercise is tantalizingly embarrassing when he’s watching you so closely.

“Sweating already?” He moves to stand behind you, observing from the mirror. “Let me help you.”

He stills your movement to reach around and unzip your hoodie, pulling the sleeves off your arms. Underneath, you’re only wearing a flimsy white shirt coated with sweat, leaving it transparent enough for Taehyung to see your red sports bra.

He presses his mouth to your ear and whispers, “Did I say you were finished, slut?” He laughs. “Don’t look surprised. What else could you be with your tits bouncing everywhere. The fact that you can’t even comprehend what I’m saying is just proving my point.”

You almost regret sharing with him your favorite romance books. Almost. If only because of the way your knees buckle at his degradation.

You continue the motions and Taehyung does little to disguise how he watches your chest as it bounces with every jump. With your arms outstretched, there is nothing to cover the jiggling weight.

Neither of you are keeping count but after two minutes he ceases your movement with a firm “stop”.

“You like playing games with me, don’t you? Want to play another one? I’ll reach into your panties and if you’re wet, you’ll be my personal little slut. Are you willing to take that bet, pretty girl?”

“Yes,” you say without further thought, and his hands dip into your leggings and past your underwear. You already know the answer, have known it since the moment he’d walked into the room with his heavy gaze on your body.

“Oh, you’re soaking, baby,” he purrs into your neck, his fingers caressing your folds but not applying the direct pressure that your humping hips seek. “Does your pussy like the thought of being owned by me?”

His hands still with the promise of moving only when you reply. “Yes,” you cry. “I want to be your personal… I want to be your personal slut. Just please… Touch me.”

“You think you deserve to be touched for your pleasure? Are you forgetting what you’re supposed to be doing right now?”

He retracts his hand but you rush to grip his wrist. “Tae, please. I need it so bad.”

“Need what, baby?” he coos, ever softened when you use his nickname.

“I need you to finger me. To make me cum.”

To your surprise he complies, shoving two into your snatch. His fingers scissor you, stretching you out. He pushes another in, all three pushing in and out of you, making disgusting and lewd sounds.

“Aren’t idols supposed to be pure and innocent? I’m ruining you, aren’t I, slut? What would your precious fans think if they knew you liked being a whore for your manager? They’d probably lose all respect for you. Your latest stage outfit was a pretty little number too. Probably had all your fans jerking their little dicks off to your fancams. I just know if I searched your name up the first thing I’d see is some asshole doing a cum tribute to you.” He laughs. “Too bad for them they’ll never know just how tight and wet your pussy is, because I own it now, right?”

“You’ve always owned me– Fuck!” You yelp when Taehyung bites your neck. Your makeup artists were definitely going to have a hard time covering that up. “I love the way you control me so easily.”

“If you weren’t such a brat all the time it’d be a lot easier.” The speed in which his fingers met your g-spot increased. “You always seemed so uptight. Did you ever expect that you’d get played around with by your manager? The other staff members would love to know that you’re into this kinky shit. Especially your fans. Everyone’s always talking about how sexy you are but I bet you know that, don’t you? You thrive on it – want everyone to jerk off to you.”

To your dismay, he pulls out. “You were complaining about your sore throat earlier, weren’t you? I know a good solution for that.”

He tugs you by the back of your neck, moving you closer to his crotch. He pulls down the zipper, releasing the familiar length of his cock. You run your hands from the tip to his balls as if driven by pure instinct, wrought only with the need for proximity. Taking the head into your mouth, you slowly begin to swallow him until it reaches your throat. As he’d taught you, you let him deepthroat for a bit before releasing him with a gasp for air.

Patting your head, he encourages you to keep going. “What a perfect fleshlight. Born to suck cock.”

It is an all-consuming task, leaving room for little else in your mind as you make sure to avoid your teeth from scraping him as well taking note of when to suction and when to draw him deeper into your throat.

He groans with every ministration. “Doing so good for me, baby. Always my perfect slut, so good at taking dick. It’s like you were meant for it. Meant to have your throat pussy be my cum dump. At this point, this should be your job.” You look up and meet his eyes, a twinkling obsidian shade. “Ready for your medicine?”

He grabs the back of your head and takes control of the pace, roughly fucking himself with your throat. His moans grow louder, taking full advantage of the sound-proof nature of the room. You could clearly hear the sounds of your choking, spit drooling down the sides of your mouth as you struggle to keep with his rhythm. The scent of his cock sends you into overdrive, and, though you’re already wet, you feel yourself gush beneath, your pussy clinging to your underwear.

You know well enough, from his pretty groans and tightening grip, that he was about to cum.

“There you go, pretty girl. Your favorite meal. Drink it all up like the depraved cum dump you are.”

You swallow, and gasp, and swallow again. His cum, sticky and bitter, lingers in the back of your throat as you choke for a decent breath of air. It shoots into your mouth, spilling all over your tongue and lips, dripping down the sides. You gag at the taste, coughing up the creamy fluids onto the floor. Your hands tighten on his thighs, struggling to steady your lightheaded self. When he releases your hair from his grasp, you stumble back onto his crotch, heaving breaths against his softening cock.

His thumb wipes sweat from your forehead. “What are you doing, baby?” He grabs the top of your head, forcing you to look into his eyes as tears stream down yours. “That isn’t what sluts do, and I thought we already established that that’s all you are. Objects listen to their owners, don’t they?”

“I-I’m sorry,” you whine, not really apologetic when you know that he knows that cum isn’t exactly your favorite flavor.

He tugs at your hair, lifting you back onto your knees. “You’re acting like I care about what dumb little brats like you want – I don’t. Lick my cum off the floor. Now.” He grins. “And don’t forget that you got some on my boots, too.”

You hesitate, eyeing the strings of white that decorate the wooden panels and the black of his shoes.

“Consider this as punishment for trying to skip out on your exercises.” He crosses his arms, looking down at you with an unimpressed countenance. “So, now, be a good girl and lick my fucking cum off the floor.”

You move your face to the ground and give it kitten licks similar to how you liked to tease Taehyung’s cock. The taste is salty, and you shudder to wonder when the floor was last cleaned. You look up, hoping that that act of obedience is enough to quell his thirst for domination over you. It isn’t.

“I said, clean it up,” he hisses. “Do I really have to grab the back of your head for this? Yeah?” He pushes your head to stay close to the floor. “Don’t just stay there like a stupid bitch. Open your fucking mouth, let me see that tongue. Yeah… There we go, baby.”

You do as he says, collecting his spilt cum.

“All of it,” he groans, watching you debase yourself for his entertainment. “The boots, too.”

You move towards his feet that are impatiently tapping against the floor. Your tongue hesitantly drops out of your mouth, trying to touch as little of it as possible.

Unexpectedly, he presses his shoe against your lips, causing you to deeply lick the length of it in surprise. “You’re not doing a thorough enough job, slut. Don’t disappoint me.”

Once you’ve deemed it spotless you look up to face him. “Is that good enough, your highness?”

He snorts, helping you stand up after having knelt for the better half of an hour. “You mean, was that good enough for you to finally cum?” He reaches between your legs to smack your sensitive pussy, aiming for your swollen clit. “Still want more, baby?”

You nod, whimpering in pain at the unexpected hit.

“Sluts are always horny, aren’t they? Since I’m so good to you, I’ll let you hump against my boot to relieve yourself.”

“Oh, fuck you-”

He grabs you by the chin, tugging you to his face. “Don’t try to hide that you’re an insatiable slut now. I know exactly who you are and what you want. And I know that what you want is to be humiliated like this. Now be a good bitch and fuck yourself on my shoe.”

What’s more humiliating is the speed in which you position yourself below him as you slowly squat down until your crotch brushes against the hard tip. Your hands grip his trousers as you begin humping his boot. You struggle to find enough stimulation, still wearing your underwear and leggings. “Tae,” you whine. “It’s not enough.”

Frustration makes way for pleasure when Taehyung angles his foot up just right. Your moans are relentless now as you buck your hips wildly without rhyme or reason. You are simply a vessel controlled by pleasure, exactly as he wants you.

“Yeah, rub your clit against my shoe like the well-trained slut that you are.” He spits on your face, the fluid dripping down your nose and onto your lips. “You know that I don’t care about your pleasure, right? You’re just an entertaining toy to me. Who owns you?”

“You,” you whine. “You own me, Tae.”

“Then cum, baby.”

Your orgasm is an all-consuming force that possesses your body. It starts at your stomach, that incendiary pulse, before you feel it between your thighs. You can tell that you’ve lost all bodily control by the numbness in your hands and feet and how one second you are humping Taehyung’s shoe and the next you’re laying flat on the ground, his figure towering over you.

Your pussy is still attached to his shoe, and, as if it is an unconscious desire, you continue to move against it until your senses return, reminding you of the pain that overstimulation causes.

He kneels down and lifts his hand, and you aren’t sure what he’s doing until you feel his fingers brush against your cheek, gently wiping away a tear. “You did so well for me, today.”

Rivers trail down your face as you shake your head with what was left of your strength. “I need more.”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

You meet his gaze. “Tae, I want you to kiss me.”

He blinks, gulps, and stutters, “What?”

“I want you to kiss me.”

Despite everything you’d done together you’d still yet to share that one intimate act. Perhaps because doing so would make everything feel so much more real.

You caress the side of his face, watching as he watches you, hesitant to make the first move. The silent anticipation weighs upon you like honey, dense yet saccharine, and you slowly move closer and closer until you feel his breath on your skin. His eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes and back.

“You can kiss me already, you know,” he mutters.

“I’m not the one scared of my feelings,” you say. “I can wait for you as long as it takes.”

And so he does.

When you kiss it simply feels right. His head tilts as you deepen it, licking his bottom lip. Your hands run through his hair, the perm he’d kept when you complimented it one too many times. You kiss him until his bottom lip swells and he kisses you until your mouth is numb. He wrestles your top over you, kissing down your arms before meeting back at your mouth.

There are touches that feel like beginnings and touches that feel like endings, but this one felt so awfully far from either, tucked perfectly between as if whispering of times past and times present. It feels like comfort, his hand on your neck, a grip so gentle that the promise of it was what had you gasping for breath. It is new yet familiar all the same, and when he kisses you harder—pressed against you as if in fear of letting go—you kiss him back with all the same intensity.

When you break apart, he steadies himself with hands wrapped around your waist, hair covering his face as he looks down with astonished laughter. You think that he is gorgeous in a way that makes your heart ache, but it is when he looks up, noticing your admiration, that your breath catches.

You collide once more and there are no more questions, no more waiting.

He lifts his shirt off and tosses it to the side before draping his body across the length of your own. Though the floor is hard against your back, you’re distracted by the rigidity of his muscles pressed against you.

“Do you have a condom?” you remind him.

He curses, standing up. He almost trips over himself in his rush to his bag, rummaging through it for the plastic wrapper. He makes a victorious sound when he finds it, holding it above his head. “Got it!”

You laugh into your hand. “Hurry up, you loser.”

He gets back on top of you, pressing kisses around your face. He kicks off his pants until he’s as naked as you are before positioning himself above your hole.

“Is this okay?” He rubs the head of his cock against your clit.

“More than okay,” you say.

The heat of him sliding into your pussy sparks kindles in your gut. He’s rough yet gentle. Too fast yet too slow. A paradox of sensations encapsulated by the longing gaze in his eyes and the torturous grip he has on your nipples.

He pulls out until only the tip is in before slamming his hips against yours, balls smacking your ass with a clapping sound. He repeats the motion until you’re drooling, rocking back and forth.

“You feel so good,” he moans, moving to grip your tiger-striped thighs. He lowers you until he’s buried balls deep into your warmth, and you can feel his hard length spasming as he adjusts to the tightness. “Feels so much better than I could’ve ever imagined. No one compares to you, baby.”

Despite the thin layer of protection you can feel every vein rub against the soft walls of your cavern. It deliciously fills you up until you’re delirious, drowning in the feeling.

“How many cocks have you had before me?”

“Two.” A friend and a boyfriend – neither of which mattered when the only cock you could think of was Taehyung’s.

“What I would give to have been the one to take your virginity.” He sighs. “Guess I’ll just have to fuck the memory of them out of you.”

His hips begin to thrust into you with a pace you can barely comprehend. The head of his cock reaches so deep, much farther than any cock or toy has ever gone. He pushes into you as if you were a pussy pocket crafted for his pleasure, holding your thighs to your chest in a mating press.

Your breath hitches with every upwards thrust as you struggle to speak. Words swim in your head, a thousand lines of ink dotting across pages like stars that twinkle in and out of existence, unable to catch them before they disappear.

He bites the lobe of your ear, tugging it. His hands caress the entirety of your body with wild abandon, struck with the need to feel you – to ensure that you are really the one beneath him. You, the gravitas of which he orbits.

When you begin twitching underneath him he focuses on hitting your g-spot, lessening the speed. He pulls out then slams back in, repeating it over and over and over. He taps your clit in rapid succession, occasionally rubbing before landing a hard smack against the nub. His other hand goes to your neck, applying pressure to the sides of it. Your mind goes blank. Your legs go numb. Then somewhere between your legs you feel it.

The orgasm is euphoric. You thrash in his hold, the pleasure all too much for your mind and body to take. The feeling is everywhere.

“That’s it, baby.” His thrusts begin to lose rhythm as he chases his own release in wild abandon. “So good for me. Mine. All mine.”

He cums into the condom with one final jerk, burying himself as deep into you as he could. The overstimulation is just enough to not be too painful as he stays inside you for a few moments more, barely able to pull himself out of your warmth.

His eyes are blown wide as he flops to the ground beside you, tying then tossing the condom to the side. “That was…”

“I can’t believe we waited that long to fuck.” The punch you land on his shoulder is weak.

He carries your limp body to the couch he’d massaged you on that fateful month before and gently lays your head against a cushion. Brushing a few strands of hair away from your forehead, he places a kiss on your temple. It’s gentle.

“How are you feeling?” He slips beside you until you’re laying side by side and nudges his nose against your shoulder like a cat seeking attention. “Was I too much?”

“No, it was really good, trust me.” Try as you did, there weren’t words in your vocabulary that could sufficiently explain what you had just experienced.

His eyes flicker the length of figure as if attempting to convince himself that he, indeed, had not accidentally fucked your body to the point of destruction. He pouts but sighs, taking your word for it.

Abashed in the afterglow, he asks once more, “You know I didn’t mean most of what I said, right?”

“Most?” You grin. “So what did you say that you did mean?”

“I’m sure I called you pretty once or twice,” he grumbles, burying his face in your neck.

“You already know that I like it,” you assured him. “You’re always so good to me, Tae.”

His eyes soften as he laughs, the melody of it soothing. “It’s because it’s you. And I like you.”

“If I had known that the way to get you to admit your feelings for me was to fuck you then I would’ve done it ages ago.”

There’s a long pause as he composes himself. His hair tickles your neck, his arm a gentle weight around your stomach, and you feel the warmth of skin not your own.

“Shut up.” His ears are red as he flicks your forehead with faux nonchalance. “Is that all you’re going to say?”

Dizzy in the moment, you reach up to cup his face and kiss him. He meets your lips with a gentle eagerness, trailing his fingertips across your chest and along the grooves of your collarbones.

“I like you, too,” you say. “But I also really, really hate you. I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.”

He laughs, pecking your shoulder. “Good thing I’m here to massage you then.”

thank u for reading!! <3 if u liked it let me know ! : ✉

© rendaze 2022. all rights reserved. copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means is NOT permitted.

#taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfic #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #bts fic #taehyung scenarios #taehyung imagine #bts scenarios #bts x reader #taehyung x y/n

[chiliyue-archived]

Aftercare !

Includes; Zhongli, Kaveh, Diluc, Kazuha, Thoma, Itto

Not requested !

Tags; Slight smut/NSFW. Fem!reader. Fluffy and soft, mentions of cockwarming, markings. Many cuddles !

Zhongli

Lots and lots of personal attention to your wellbeing. He acknowledges that he can pretty rough in the moment that you are left unable to walk for a week sore. But no worries, he'll gladly clean you up, bring you a glass of water and tend to you fully

He draws a warm bath for you, having you rest against his chest as his fingers rub fragrant shampoo in your hair. You don't need to even say anything, Zhongli will already be aware of all your sore spots, and his hands are making work to message and rub ointment to those areas with delicate care.

Will gladly carry you if your legs are too wobbly to support you; carrying you bridal style back to the bedroom in which he tucks you in while praising you for how well you made him feel.

Prepares you tea in the following mornings and offers to message any more spots that may be bothering you all the while kissing your cheek lightly

" How do you feel, my dearest? Do you still hurt here? I'm quite sorry, my love, but you performed wonderful last night. Let me know if there's anything I can get you."

Kaveh

So many snuggles <33

He's touch starved and moments after intimacy leave him cuddling with you, tugging your form to his bare chest after as he peppers your face with chaste kisses.

He likes to lay by your side for a couple of minutes before getting up to get you some things. Amongst these moments, he likes to express just how much he loves you while his hand messages your waist. He inquires about trivial little things as you both take the moment to catch your breath; easily mesmerized by the way your chest still heaves even after the deed was done.

And after those initial seconds of cooling down, he gets straight to work to fulfill your needs. Gets you cleaned up and brushes your hair for you, placing it in a nice ponytail, keeping it nice and tidy or just clipping it back with some cute hairclips.

He's very scrupulous in the way he cares for you. He understands that you're sore, and so he is very patient. He makes sure you get a drink of water before you fall asleep, nudging the glass cup towards your lips with "just one sip before you sleep, okay?"

Holds you close to him, his head pressed in the crook of your neck as he whispers endless praises to the shell of your ear until he ultimately passes out.

" You're so pretty, you deserve everything, my love. I love you so much, you're so wonderful to me."

Diluc

Kinda conflicted

He would love to stay sheath within you. Your mushy walls were so welcoming and warm, and he swore he could be in that spot forever. But he also wants to tend to your needs because he prioritizes you before his own pleasure and care!

He always likes to press a lingering kiss on your shoulder. It's his way of silently saying I love you and thank you when you're both still attempting to catch your breath after a very intimate exchange, his face fuming a baby red.

Offers to message your hips, shoulders, or hands. He feels a tinge of guilt when he notices how you flinch when his finger traces after the marks he left on your chest. But your sweet reassurances release him from the worries as he tidied you up

Falls asleep with you cradled close to his chest, head buried in your shoulder. Intimacy leaves him feeling vulnerable- but with you, it wasn't the worst thing

He finds himself starring at you before he falls and after he awakes in the early hours. He can't bring himself to look away

Takes work off the following day so he can spend the day caring for you and spending the early hours of the day cuddling with his s/o.

" I can't my eyes off you, you look heavenly. You may just make me go out of business- but that's alright, I prefer to be here with you anyway."

Kazuha

The most doting boyfriend in the world 🥺🥺

Once the deed is done before you can even utterly say a single sound, Kazuha is already getting up to fetch you some water and towel to clean you up. He doesn't let you fall asleep until he's 100% sure he's fulfilled all your needs and tended to you properly.

His hands are playing with your hair while you're silently munching on the food he brought you. Or if you prefer, he'll gladly converse whatever is on your mind.

And there's always the alternative option of mumbling poems and haiku dedicated to you in your honor. What a greater time to do so than right after being intimate? And besides, he adores the way your face blushes when he reads off his writings <3

Praises you a lot. Let's you know very well just how good you made him feel and expresses how beautiful and pretty look in the afterglow(even better if you're covered in lovebites)

If you're too sore to walk- no problem! He'll carry you- piggyback or bridal style - your choice- around anywhere you need to go.

" You've brought me so much warmth amongst the cold and the rustling of the leaves. You grant me a home in which I will always be grateful."

Thoma

Malewife. You will not be lifting a finger. He will take care of everything.

If you're really sleepy, he'll let you rest for a bit, kissing you on the forehead while he gets to work cleaning up.

Brings you a change of clothing and helps you get dressed if your muscles are sore. Very careful and patient

Gets a nice bath going for you if it's what you please. Rinses and cleans your hair with gentle hands that probably lull you to sleep at some point.

Brings a couple of extra pillows and blankets so that the both of you are nice and comfortable for rest of the night.

He pulls you close into his chest, fingers carding through your hair as his lips trail your forehead. He loves having you close to him. You give off so much heat, and he wants to by your side for as long as possible

Will gladly have some pillowtalk if you can't fall asleep right away. If anything, it gives him a good excuse to spoon you and hold you close and for you to maybe play with his loose hair as well.

Makes you breakfast in bed the following morning, his doting and caring nature extending far beyond the night.

" Are you alright, love? Ah- stay in bed, I'll get you some water and a bath, how does that sound? Do you still like lavender bath salts or would you prefer something else?"

Itto

He nearly collapses on top of you afterward, his arms going to draw your weak and sleepy form near his.

It's just a whole lot of physical attention and cuddles from there <33

He keeps a conversation going with you, cracking a few light-hearted jokes here and there to keep the atmosphere light. While doing so, he strokes your hair, fingers messaging your head carefully that lulls you to sleep within a matter of minutes

Really, Itto loves to gaze at you. He becomes mesmorized by all the marking he left, and despite all, you continue to beam a smile at him.

He likes to be told how well he made you feel and vice versa. Is filled with pride feeling knowing you enjoyed it as much as he did <33

Wraps you into a blanket burrito, holding you close to him before passing out. His body is like a furnace, keeping you nice and comfortable through the rest of the night.

Unshamlessly carries you around everywhere the following day because your legs are like spaghetti noodles.

" Did you feel good, babe? Wha..?? You're legs hurt, want a piggyback ride? I'll have the gang bring us some noodles. How does that sound?"

#genshin impact smut #zhongli smut #kaveh smut #diluc smut #kazuha smut #thoma smut #itto smut #genshin smut #zhongli x reader #kaveh x reader #diluc x reader #kazuha x reader #thoma x reader #itto x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

[sc0tters]

Rise Up | Trevor Zegras

summary: when you start having a wet dream about Trevor he can’t help but help you.

kinkmas: day two (somnophila)

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, oral (fem receiving!), somnophila, swearing!

word count: 1.47k

authors note: I’ve never written anything about somnophila or not so I don’t know if it fits the whole plot of it… but anyways I’ve missed writing for Trevor so here it is. If you want to check out more of the kinkmas work you can find it here!

pt 2

You longed for Trevor.

Sure you had been around him all week but as he was injured with the strict no extraneous physical activities allowed. You were on one couch and he was left on the other most days and during the night you couldn’t even get a cuddle from your boyfriend.

Both of you were clearly horny but you were trying to be good to ensure that he got back out onto the ice as soon as possible. But what your mind came up with late at night was something your figured you couldn’t be blamed for “z.” Your voice was quiet as your facial expressions softened.

Trevor had been struggling to sleep as he heard your voice “yeah baby?” He was quick to turn around to face you as worry washed over him. As you guys had just moved into this apartment there still weren’t any curtains making your face light up as the moonlight hit it “right there.” You whined with your eyes still shut as you drove your hips against the mattress “oh god.” Trevor’s smirked brushing his hand against your cheek as you were clearly in the middle of a wet dream.

You gripped at the sheet beneath you as you whimpered “more.” Your legs drove into the mattress making the top sheet fall over your knees “let me see baby.” The hockey player mumbled getting up as his cock felt sore against his boxers.

If there was one thing that Trevor loved most about your sleep attire was that you lived in his shirts after he tore too many of your lacey slips after a big night. So there you were in an old camp shirt of his an nothing else “I know baby.” Trevor cooed as he kissed your knee drawing a moan from your lips.

Staring back at him was your glistening cunt as Trevor swore he was the one in the middle of the dream “fuck me.” He grumbled grinding against the mattress of your bed in an attempt to relieve some of the tension in his shorts “such a pretty pussy.” Trevor’s murmured to himself as he dropped his head down to press a kiss to your cunt.

His head turned upwards to see if he had woken you as you gasped feeling his lips “mhm.” You smiled pressing your head back into the pillow giving him the green light to carry on.

You were falling back to sleep when Trevor lay his tongue flat to your slit “oh Z.” You moaned as the boy wrapped his arms around your thighs pulling you closer to him “keep making those little noises.” Trevor wasn’t even sure if you could hear him but in that moment he really didn’t care as his tongue slurped at your sweet juices that coated your cunt.

It was hot as he watched you writhe against him “such a pretty baby.” He cooed running his fingers along the ends of your shirt as Trevor let his hands move up your body to your breast.

At that point you began to stir and Trevor didn’t even care as his thumbs brushed over your nipped and his nose continued to bump your clit “Z.” You mumbled moving yourself closer to his face “I’m right here baby.” He cooed thrusting his tongue deeper into your cunt “god.” You moaned as you blinked feeling him laugh against your cunt.

He let his one hand drag down your body as he moved his tongue away from you quickly replacing it with his fingers “glad to see you back baby.” Trevor smirked as your cunt clenched around his fingers “you have a good dream.” Your lip caught between your teeth almost in shock “please don’t stop.” You begged nodded as you pressed your hand over his.

Your legs shook against him as his movements of his tongue intensified “fuck Z.” You gasped as his tongue went back to sucking at your clit “you’re so good.” You were always so vocal when Trevor made you ate you out “please don’t stop.” You cried gripping at his hair as you moaned.

As his movements intensified a cloudy gaze came over your eyes as you were sure you were waking up your entire floor “Trevor!” You pressed against him as his arms gripped at your thighs lapping up your juices “enough please.” You begged now trying to move away from him as the boy shook his head slotting his fingers into your cunt to lap up the rest of your juices “want you to taste how sweet you are pretty girl.” Trevor’s words alone would have been enough to come but seeing his chin glisten as you knew it was your orgasm it made your wetness and desire pool between your thighs all over again.

Trevor watched as your lips wrapped around his fingers making you suck on the two digits causing his cock to grow hard all over again “you’re so fucking hot like this.” He grumbled sitting between your legs before he pulled his fingers from your mouth “that was so hot.” Your voice was sultry as you placed your hands on either side of his face as you smiled pulling him into a kiss.

Your back hit your mattress again as the boys lips remained pressed against yours “Z.” You moaned at the feeling of his bulge against the inside of your thigh “I know baby I know.” His forehead rested against yours as he could hear his physios words reminding him that unnecessary physical activity was off the cards for him “I wanna ride you.” The words came out so innocently as you batted your eyelashes in his direction.

Trevor groaned as he sat up straight “you sure because we don’t have to-”you cut him off as your hands went to his waist as you nodded “lay on the bed for me pretty boy.” You mumbled feeling a sense of power rush over you as he listened laying down “can we get you out of this?” Trevor’s pleaded motioning to the shirt on your body as he stripped out of his boxers.

A whimper left your lips as you nodded “never get over this.” Trevor helped you onto his waist as he took in the sight of your free breasts “it doesn’t have to end.” Your hand palmed at his cock causing it to throb between his legs “fuck you’re so big.” You moaned teasing your clit as you dragged the head down your slit letting your cunt bottom him out.

His hands tense around your hips as you stayed still for a few seconds against him before you contemplated moving again “please.” Trevor’s grunted through gritted teeth as his cock throbbed feeling your walls stretch around him “god.” You gasped resting your hands on his chest as you lifted your hips up resting on the weight of your knees “just me.” The hockey players laughter was short lived as your cunt clenched around him making the boy go silent.

Soft sex wasn’t something either of you usually went for but there was something about the way that Trevor’s eyes watched you encouraged you further to writhe against him “don’t tease me.” You couldn’t tell if his words danced on the line of begging or being serious as if he was going to forget about his injury for this “you’re making me feel so full.” You groaned like he hit an itch in your brain that you felt form.

Out of nowhere you began to feel your lower back begin to hurt “y/n?” Trevor mumbled furrowing his eyebrows “yeah.” You huffed quickening your pace “y/n.” His voice got louder as you shook your head ignoring it.

But suddenly as you felt this warmth leave your legs a shiver ran through your spine “good morning princess.” Trevor’s breath fanned against your ear lobe making you jump as you blinked repeatedly trying to process what was going on around you “what the-” it didn’t take you long to realise that you weren’t in Trevor’s bed but instead on his couch fully clothed and so was the boy in front of you.

You seriously just had a wet dream about Trevor Zegras!?

But before you could even feel embarrassed he had to laugh “so before you begin to think about what is going on between your legs I suggest you go have a shower.” Trevor held his hand to you making yourself grateful as you took it “because your brother is coming over in about five minutes and I don’t think he’d be too impressed knowing his sister who was meant to be in her dorm studying had to be picked up only to dream about her savour.” The last part was him teasing you as he knew you would die before Cole could learn about your crushes “hey dude I’m here!”

#ambers kinkmas 2023 #Trevor zegras smut #Trevor zegras imagines #imagines #oneshots #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #nhl smut #hockey smut #amber writes fics

[uravitypng]

after a particularly stressful day chuuya comes home to you and fucks his anger out on you, manhandling you as he throws you in whatever position he wants. he typically goes for missionary, it has a special place in his heart, one were he can see your pretty face and can feast his eyes on how your stomach and breasts jiggle together. biting down your neck and wrapping his hand gently around your soft throat, applying little pressure but also keeping you in the position he wants you.

chuuya pounds into you, taking out his frustrations, as you whine and writhe, scratching at his skin. "fucking take it." he rasps into your ear, as you continue to babble about how good it feels, how "it's too much, it's s' good chu'."

chuuya shoves two fingers down your throat to shut you up, he's still wearing his gloves as he kissed you passionately and started undressing you as he came home. "sshhh, i'm busy sweetheart. fuck, god, you feel so good, shit. you can take it okay, just shut up okay." you mumble around his fingers, swirling your tongue around his digits, making him groan louder as he feels you through his gloves.

soon after he spills into you, placing a soft kiss on your neck, breathing slightly irregular. "you alright sweetheart?" he says from above you, smirking down. with your eyes glazed over, you nod your head with a smile. he places another kiss on you as he gets up and fetches a wet towel to clean you up.

he gently cleans you up, showing all his love in his touch. chuuya finally removes his gloves, smirking as he sees it glisten from when it was in your mouth, gets into bed with you and you start falling asleep together. "thank you for always being there for me, sweetheart. love you" he whispers to you.

"you're welcome, love you too. get some sleep, because i think i'll still be sore tomorrow and you have work." you say back as chuuya chuckles not realising you were still awake. he tightens his grip around your waist drawing you closer together as you close your eyes again.

#happy belated valentines day lovelies!! ♡ #bsd x reader smut #chuuya smut #bsd x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya x reader smut #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya #bsd #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs smut #bsd x chubby reader #<< chubby coded reader #chubby reader smut #♡ mine / writing #♡ chuuya

[velvetmud]

loosely tied to concepts from my other works with joel making at-home videos

warning(s): explicit 18+, daddy kink, graphic dirty talk, messy BJs, sex tapes, boyfriends dad!joel au... i rest my case

————————-

“Mmhm. Pose with it, yeah—just like that,” Joel heaves, rapid heartbeat thumping in all the right places. He watches with eager intent as your little fingers slide up and down the flushed skin of his hard length. Takes extra time marveling the way your fingers barely touch when your fist attempts to wrap around the hard middle of his base.

The lense focused on you right as his pointer finger pressed record. Joel’s legs unconsciously spread even further, inviting you in for full access to him. His spongey head leaks a bit as he keeps eyeing you, riding out every shock of pleasure bursting through his navel with every innocent strip of your palm and lick of your tongue.

“Likin’ the way Daddy’s cock tastes, huh pretty girl?”

A laugh followed up his own question while you try and fail to nod and hum around the mouthful of girth.

“Fuck I love it when you hum like that. More. That’s right. Suck that allll down,” he guides you, pointing the camera at every action as you lean in even more to fulfill all of his wishes. A helpless whine buzzed from his throat, gripping onto a decent clump of your scalp for dear life while the sounds of your busy wet slurping fill the air.

His cock, wet with dribbles of precum and spit, slaps against his belly right after you’d hollowed out your cheekbones and released him with a loud suck.

It comes as no surprise how much it renders Joel a bratty, cursing, demanding mess.

The camera shook in the fragile grasp of his hands, still recording all of his growls of dirty motivation. He slaps your lips with the tip in the middle of a grunt, centering your face perfectly into frame. You stare at the bright lens with an empty, cock-hungry stare while you wet your lips and spit on his girth some more. Joel hissed as the warm trail of saliva drips down, lubing him up even more.

His untrustworthy grip still tries remaining steady while you gulp several inches down all in one go, drawing a long sigh from above.

The pudgy head of his dick meets the back of your throat, slicking him up deliciously.

“Think he’ll find out ‘bout us after this?” he asks rhetorically, condescendingly. He pinched the bone of your chin with a dopey smile towards the camera. “My poor baby’s throat’s gonna be so sore tonight. How’re you gonna explain that to him when you won’t even be able to talk, angel? Huh?”

You drunkenly swirl the flat of your tongue, slobbering on the veins and lapping up anything dripping down.

But you don’t find the words or the energy to conjure up an answer. You’ve become too lost, too deep in the moment giving your own boyfriend’s dad another long orgasm he’s been saving up just for your face.

“Gonna tell him his dad’s thick cock fucked and wrecked this throat all night?” he asks, pointer finger dragging down your aching jaw. He continues with a whisper. “That I split that pussy open on it whenever you come over to see him, too?”

His hips find a steady respectable grind, lifting up off the bed to feed you his tip. You welcome all of his thrusts, eager to taste more of him the closer he gets. You’re shameless, frantically nodding your head up and down in joyous agreement while you simultaneously slurp up the juices dripping down his naked lap.

“Yeah, that’s my girl. Fuck. He doesn’t know what to do with you, but I always do,” Joel damn near growls, possessive as his hips stutter trying to remain on beat.

His meaty thighs crowd the sides of your head while the camera captures the depravity of it all.

A man kicking off his fifties, choking his son’s girlfriend with his cock, stuffing you so full you both couldn’t take it anymore.

“That’s it, that’s it, that’s it— you’re gonna make Daddy cum like that, shit, drink me up baby. Yes.”

His howls are almost always unabashedly uncontained, the lid flying off the rest of his physical restraint. His hips fly up and the camera tilts over in his haze, still catching side glimpses of part of your face swallowing drops of his milk up. It drips down the corners of your mouth, thick and sweet as icing. His chest heaves with the heavy nonstop breathing, emptying everything he has into you.

“Fuck, just look at her. My girl, mouth full of my cum,” he narrates to the camera, revelling in your messy pink cheeks. You still act shy and fucked out as you lick up any of the leftover evidence. Clean off your face and his thighs, any remanents of his spend are left settling in your tummy.

“All clean,” you rasp, grinning while you stick your tongue out at the camera.

“And she swallowed it all,” he praised. Pets the top of your head with his unoccupied hand before tilting you up to chase your lips with his. The camera stays on and, though out of frame, captures the sounds of your lips smacking. Of Joel tasting remanents of himself.

After a smooth, long kiss, he breaks away with a hurried breath, turning off the camera and tossing it mindlessly to the side before whimpering to you:

“He won’t love you like I love you.”

————————-

this one happened so randomly lmao but thank you for all your kind words on anything ive ever written, it never got unnoticed n I always stay crying:) <3 appreciate you

next boyfriend’s dad!joel fic

#joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller fanfic

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Part Two - JJK Men And Reader With A Sensitive Clit

♥ Warnings: Mentions of trauma, sexual themes, clit and vaginal fingering, oral sex, use of toys

♥ Summary: Reader with a sensitive clit. What will our men do to work around this?

♥ Featuring: Geto

♥ Word Count: 1653

♥ A/N: This was originally supposed to be part of the first post but I was struggling to write out the scenario. And looking back, this one on it's own is longer than the other two combined! Well, hope ya'll like seeing soft Geto. Part one can be found here

Geto

There’s no question that Geto loves eating you out. Man could spend eternity between your legs, making you cum over and over until you’re begging for mercy. Both of you put in a lot of effort to keep each other satisfied.

Which is why when he pulls out a vibrator one day, you look at him hesitantly. You’ve hated toys. All your previous boyfriends would set it on the highest mode and hold it against you, almost bored, waiting for your orgasm. Your entire pussy would feel sore and not in a good way. You wince as the memory comes back to you. 

“I got it for you. What do you think?”

“What are you planning on doing with that?”

Geto sees your nerves and sets the toy down. “I thought you might enjoy it. Didn’t you say you wanted to try edging one of these days?”

“With your mouth, Geto. Or even your fingers. Not with a vibrator.” Your legs snap closed, leaving him looking perplexed.

“Ok, I’m missing something here. I thought you’d be stoked.”

“I don’t like toys. Did I ever ask you to buy one?”

“No, but-”

“No buts. I hate them. End of story.”

“May I ask why?”

Your voice dies in your throat as you remember how uninterested your past lovers were when it came to using toys. They saw it as a means to get out of doing any other foreplay, and only seemed to want to give you the most basic orgasm in the least amount of time. You would cum of course, but it was a very half-felt orgasm, your clit barely fluttering from the disappointing roughness of the vibrator. 

“They just don’t feel good to me. I don’t like the high settings. It’s too much and I get too little in return.”

“And why would I use the high setting if you don’t like it?”

“Because it takes too long for me to cum from the low setting.”

Geto now looks positively bewildered. “Too long? Are you telling me you use the high setting, which you don’t like, because the lower ones which you do like, take too much time?”

When he says it out loud, you hear how ridiculous it sounds. You shake your head, trying not to feel ashamed. “I just… haven’t had good experiences with toys. They feel too harsh and my orgasm isn’t that great with them.”

“Is it because you’ve never tried a low setting before?”

“I don’t want to give up foreplay for the sake of using a vibrator.”

Geto’s eyebrows raise, almost lost in his hairline at your words. “Why would you not get foreplay if we’re using a vibrator?”

You pause, unsure how to answer his question. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s a stupid thing that happened long ago.”

Geto sighs at your tone. “Ok. So you’re not even a little curious at how this would feel after foreplay, at a low setting?”

The look on his face makes you want to kiss him all over. He’s been very patient and adjusting with you, and you don’t know how to put it into words, your trepidation over using a vibrator. 

“Can we just test it out at a low setting? If you really hate it, I’ll never bring it up again.”

You still look hesitant and he draws you against him, fingers stroking your bare back. “I promise to be gentle. And when have I ever skimped out of foreplay? Miss an opportunity to make my girl feel good before slipping her my cock?”

A heavy blush settles over your face and you playfully smack his shoulder. “Fine. But if I hate it, I get oral whenever I want. No matter the time or day.”

“And how is this any different from what we currently do?” He tenderly rubs your reddened cheeks and chuckles at the small squeak you make. 

“Let me make you feel good…”

He begins with an open mouthed kiss, capturing your lips with his, his tongue mixing with yours, while his large hands stroked your body, coming down the sides of your arms, back up over your shoulders, and down to your breasts, cupping and squeezing the mounds of flesh, thumbs resting on the center of your nipples and nudging them in circles until you whine into his mouth. 

Geto lowers his head, trailing wet kisses over your skin before taking one of your aching tips into his mouth, tongue fondling against it, pulling with his lips while your hands curl into his long hair, moaning, feeling wetness gather between your legs.

When he finally parts them, the soft labia are slick and swollen with arousal, the little bud pulsing as he spreads the moist folds. He presses his nose in between and inhales deeply, that tangy, sweet scent making him harden even more. 

“Geto…” You whimper, feeling the tip of his nose just a little south of where you need it to be. 

“Patience now…I promised I’d edge you this time…and we’re going to do it in more than one way…”

A moan leaves your lips as his tongue swirls over your clit, softly lapping at it. He knows to use it flat to cover the whole bud as it pulses and throbs. 

“Geto… Ngh…” Your legs almost close but he grips your knees to keep them open. Every soft lick against your clit brings you closer to the edge. When you feel the small spasms become more predictable and a particularly pleasurable throb courses through you, you grip the sheets. You seem to have forgotten the whole point and Geto pulls away an inch, watching your core spasm as he takes away his mouth. 

It takes a second for you to realize what's happening and you try to inch down back to him. Geto chuckles, the vibration falling just short of your pussy. 

“I never skimp on foreplay my dear. “ A second later, you hear the soft buzzing of the vibrator and the clicking of buttons as he turns it on to the lowest setting, the buzzing getting softer with each click. 

You stay still but feel your heart beat a little faster at the sound. “Geto…”

Without realizing it you're grasping the sheets again but not in the same way as you were before. His warm, large hand holds yours, loosening your tension on the sheet, entwining your fingers together. 

“It's all right doll,”he says reassuringly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

You close your eyes, waiting for him to spread you apart and place the vibrator on your clit. However, he runs it along your thigh, teasing, then along the edges of the outer lips, letting the soft vibrations affect your core. 

There's a moment where you pause, considering. It wasn't unpleasant, not even harsh. But it wasn't on your clit yet. You wait… Then gasp in surprise as he tilts the tip of the vibrator to go over to the fatty side, pressing the flesh with the toy and pushing over your bud. The vibrations were pleasantly muted yet stimulating and…Enjoyable? 

You shiver softly as the toy does its job on the lowest setting. Geto brings his mouth to yours for a kiss, swallowing your little noises of delight. His wrist starts to move the toy in circles over your lips, clit nestled in between. The soft buzzing fills the air and you start to buck your hips against the ministrations. 

It was deliciously slow, and you could feel yourself starting to relax and take delight in the way it felt, his hand movements bringing you to peak closer and closer… You let out a lewd sound… And he pulls it away. 

A sound of frustration leaves your lips and you look at him. Geto looks back with a smug look on his face. “I thought you didn't like toys,” he teased. 

Your face burns and your body is filled with heat, pussy swollen with need, core leaking and desperate for something more. Geto places his palm over your sex, cooing at you, making soothing noises to calm you down from your ruined orgasm. Once he’s certain, the buzzing starts again, and this time he runs the vibrator over your still hard nipples, the sensation not enough to make you needy but enough to make you give him a look of irritation. 

It just amuses him, before he runs it back down between your breasts, then over the fold of fat...Your eyes roll back into your head as you rest against the pillow, feet planted on the bed and whine. It’s still on the lowest setting possible and you were unwilling to admit it but it felt good. 

A gasp leaves you as one of Geto’s thick fingers enters your slick heat. Combined with the vibrator, it almost felt like he was trying to tease the orgasm out of you rather than build it up. Your core flutters, wet heat gathering as your body is slowly pushed to the edge. He inserts a second finger, tips curling up into that little patch inside you that has your hips snapping forward. 

“Fuck…Geto…” You manage to choke out, teeth clenched. 

“Are you close?”

You nod breathlessly, praying he wouldn’t stop this time. Your mouth keeps making the most wanton sounds as he pleasures you.

“Should I just let you cum this time? Make the edging a little longer next time?”

It takes all the effort in your being to nod once more. So close…

“Let it happen then…”

Your eyes squeeze closed as an intense orgasm grips you, muscles clenching and fluttering with delight, sobbing at the pleasure. When it starts to calm down, Geto switches off the vibrator and comes up to stroke your hair.

“Well?”

You look at him and roll your eyes. 

“Ok, it wasn’t that bad.”

His delighted laugh carries through the room as he starts preparing you for another round. 

dividers by @/cafekitsune

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru #geto smut #geto suguru x reader #jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen geto #geto suguru x you #suguru geto #jjk getou #geto x reader #suguru #jjk suguru #suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #soft smut

[princessbrunette]

kinktober : oct 28th

miguel o’hara x use of the safe word

it was something he never wanted to happen. he’d been so careful beforehand.

he should have known, from the strained pitch in your voice, and the way your spine tensed. this is why i fucking — this is why i shouldn’t be taking you from behind, i can’t watch your face, can’t keep an eye on you. what was i thinking? would run through his head shortly after the word burst from your swollen lips, fighting to keep your cheek off the mattress. he froze completely.

“pink!” you cry, like a real desperate cry — like you’d been wanting him to realise by himself that you were too sensitive, too sore to continue. that’s what really got him, the fact that he should know. he knows you well enough, he should know your limits. he couldn’t believe his lack of restraint, that no amount of spidey-sense could have saved the moment when he was buried in your sweet, tight cunt.

he draws out of you slowly, catching his breath. “i’m… i’m sorry.” he speaks solemnly. watching the way you curl onto your side, legs trembling. “what do you need, love? can you talk to me?” his voice is as kind and soft as he can get it, itching to reach out and place his hand on your back like he usually would when he’d comfort you.

a muffled, small voice comes from you a moment later. “just need you here.” you don’t look at him, but instead reach out for him and he sighs in relief, happy you didn’t want him to leave you alone. he would have obliged of course, but felt worse about it all. he can make it up to you now.

“yeah.” he agrees in response, quickly — and you can hear the relief in his voice. as easily as lifting a cushion or a blanket, miguel lifts you and pulls you onto his lap where he’s sat on the bed, cradling you close to his strong bare chest, letting you ground yourself with the familiarity of it. when you look up at him, he’s looking down at you already— a line between his eyebrows from his frown. you sniffle, bursting into tears. “hey.” he coo’s eyebrows raising up transferring the line horizontally across his forehead. “no más lágrimas, mamacita.” he shushes with a gentle sigh, upset with himself. “you’re safe here.”

“i know i just—” you sniff, violently wiping at your eyes with shaky, limp wrists. “i feel bad. tried to hold out f’you and be good. wanted you to carry on feeling good cos’ i know you were really into it and i ruined—”

“nononono—” miguel cuts you off, pulling your hands from your face and cupping it, holding it still. “sweetheart, you must never do that, okay? could hurt yourself. i’m only enjoying myself if you’re enjoying yourself. that’s how this works.” he’s stern, but for once careful of his tone as to not disturb you further in such a vulnerable state. he shifts you a little where you sit on his leg, being wary of accidentally stimulating or irritating your sore private area. "¿entiendes?" he wipes your tears.

“mhm.”

“well done, sweet girl.” he strokes the back of your head, pulling you back into his chest. in a quieter voice, the first inkling of fear you’ve ever seen miguel demonstrate, he speaks again. “are you hurting?”

“just sensitive.” you reassure honestly, nuzzling your cheek against his warm skin. you feel him deflate in relief slightly. after a quiet minute of him holding you, he speaks — and yet it somehow feels like it’s directed more at himself, like he’s thinking out loud.

“when i’m taking you… especially like that… i forget that i’m so…” you hear him run a hand over his 5 o’clock shadow.

“big?” you suggest honestly, walking fingers along his chest. you feel him shrug modestly.

“i suppose that’s an adequate description.” he goes all formal like he usually does when feeling confronted or nervous. you weakly giggle, looking up at him through lashes and he looks down at you, unable to wipe the worried and embarrassed expression off his face in time.

“it’s not a bad thing, mig. not at all.”

“i hurt you.”

“you didn’t. i’d just had enough.” you stare up determinedly and he backs down, pressing his lips together and staring off into the distance. when you continue to watch him he softens a little more, running a thumb over your cheek again.

“mi chica.” he whispers and you kiss his palm. “i’ll be better.”

he doesn’t need to be.

#miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara prompt #miguel o’hara smut #kinktober 2023

[daydream-cement]

Aftercare (lightly NSFW)

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

Lucifer seems to be gaining feelings for a little human who was once just a toy.

Author’s Note: Just a random snippet of soft Luci <3

Getting you up to Lucifer’s chambers was an easy process as the angel swept you off your feet once they had finished with you. Your body was covered in love bites from your evening of love making. The Morningstar had challenged you to a new level of heightened pleasure that now left you unable to move.

When you were helped onto Lucifer’s bed, you trembled as you forced your legs open for the Lightbringer. The blonde chuckled in response, shaking their head as they had no interest in forcing you through any additional orgasms. With a large, firm hand, Lucifer gripped your thigh and pressed it to the other, “No more tonight, dearest. You and I are going to explore aftercare. Have you ever done that before?”

You shook your head, your body releasing its tension at the notion of being done for the night. “No…”

“First, we will get you cleaned up. Can you stand well enough for a shower, my darling? I will get you all washed up.”

With a quiet nod, you crawled to the edge of the bed and stood on wobbly legs. Lucifer met you and wrapped an arm around your back and another under your legs to lift you from the bed. They carried you to their washroom, turning on the shower once you entered. 

They wanted the water nice and hot to relax your body. While it heated up, they pushed you against the bathroom sink to press soft kisses against your face and neck. Lucifer’s taller form pressed against yours, your face level with their breasts. Their hands wandered around your body, not squeezing or groping as they had been merely an hour earlier, but softly admiring every bit of your form.

“Did I go too rough, little angel?”

You shook your head ‘no’ even when the answer was ‘yes’, not wanting Lucifer to think you couldn’t handle more the next time around. You would do anything to please the fallen angel.

The Morningstar pressed a final kiss to your forehead and guided you to the shower. They took to scrubbing your body, smirking as they gazed upon the marks they left behind. “Look at these marks… A work of art.”

You smiled fondly at the possessiveness, your arms winding around their frame to hold them close. Lucifer’s hands traveled between your legs, gently cleaning you and trying to avoid irritating the spots sore from fucking. “I would like you to accompany me to my meetings tomorrow…”

You whimper as the blonde’s fingers push too hard against your clit, the sensation more pain than pleasure, “Really?”

“Yes, kitten… I want you there with me.” There was no hiding the obvious twinge of pride in Lucifer’s tone. 

The Morningstar slipped around to your backside, hands continuing to caress your tummy and thighs. They guided you out of the path of the water and began washing your hair, earning a high pitched hum of appreciation from you. Their words just above a whisper when they began rinsing the shampoo out, “But you don’t have to. As much as I enjoy you being at my side, you are not obligated, darling. I just want you to be happy.”

“Making you happy, makes me happy.” You said simply, turning around in their arms and nuzzling into their chest.

Lucifer chuckled at the sentiment and added conditioner to their hands, combing it through your hair. “You already do by being with me. Now, be a good pet and rinse your hair. I need to finish my own shower.”

You remained quiet, moving to do as you were told. 

Lucifer washed up their own body, their eyes drifting to you every few seconds to check on you. They adored you and the love you had for them. With each day the two spent together, the Morningstar felt themself only growing more possessive and protective over you. It was becoming hard to spend time without you near.

After their shower, Lucifer took their time drying off your body, shifting to sit on the edge of the bathtub and draw you to stand before them. They pressed kisses to your chest and abdomen and smiled up at you fondly, “I want you to rest well tonight. I can’t have my darling hurting.” 

You smiled softly at the care Lucifer showed you, your hands teasing at their blonde locks to show them your own affection. “Can we watch a movie tomorrow? After you finish your meetings…”

“Of course, dearest. You know I love your human films. Now get your pajamas on.” 

You were the one to press a kiss to the Morningstar’s lips before hobbling off to the room you had begun sharing. The blonde proceeded with their nighttime routine and adjourned to the bedroom just in time to see you crawling into bed. The sight brought a smile to the Lightbringer’s face, and they felt grateful they were going to be crawling into bed with you.

After turning out the lights, Lucifer climbed into bed after you, weaving an arm around your waist and drawing you in to snuggle. With their hands on either side of your face, the Morningstar encouraged you to rest your face between the blonde breasts. They began stroking your locks, “Did you have fun tonight, my child?” 

“Mhm. I liked riding you… You looked so powerful…” You closed your eyes and wistfully pictured yourself n reverse cowgirl, getting fucked nice and hard by the strap they had attached to their form. They had been absolutely delighted with the sight of you unraveling before them. 

“Mmm… We may need to try it again, only next time I will ride you? Then you can be the one to make me moan.” 

You giggled at the thought, snuggling closer. Your hands wandered inside their robe and around Lucifer’s waist to dance across their back. 

“Now it’s time for bed. Please wake me if you need anything.” Lucifer slowly closed their eyes, adjusting their position to rest their chin on the top of your head. With two deep breaths, the angel began to give way to the sweet temptation of sleep.

“I… love you….” You murmured, not considering the consequences of sharing these never before spoken words. 

Lucifer seemed stunned, taken aback even. They paused for a pregnant moment, never considering before how they could be loved by another. The silence made you feel sick, but you had no regrets in sharing your feelings. Only if you could have seen the way Lucifer stared at you through the darkness. A gazed filled with more love and admiration than even the Morningstar thought they were capable of. 

“I love you as well. Now please try and sleep, dearest lamb.” 

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#lucifer morningstar (sandman) x reader #gwendoline christie #fanfic #lucifer morningstar (sandman) #the sandman #gwen christie #aftercare #fluff