Tumgik
#please break my fucking neck <3
gutsby · 3 months
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Wedded Bliss
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Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader
Summary: The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.
Warnings: 18+. Dubcon. Corruption kink. Virginity loss. Arranged marriage between enemies. Brat taming. Breeding kink. Beefy, mob boss Bucky devolving into a fall-to-his-knees-just-to-fuck-you kind of horny mess.
Part 2 | Part 3
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You kissed him and wished him dead in the same breath. You said ‘I do’ and meant ‘I don’t,’ exchanged your vows like your own last rites, and felt him slip the ring on your finger as if he’d just tightened a noose around your neck.
You didn’t want to be a bride, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be the bride to Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.
Frankly, you were mortified.
And terrified, too, now that you knew your groom might actually kill you in the kitchen of your honeymoon suite.
“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”
“I walked down the aisle, didn’t I?”
Another plate went crashing on the wall behind your husband’s head just as he managed to duck. He side-stepped a spray of porcelain and glass and probably crushed several hundred shards beneath his polished black oxfords when he walked—stalked—over to you.
You’d just reared back to hurl a serving plate at his face when you found your speed swiftly outmatched. Bucky had your elbow gripped between his forefinger and thumb in less a second, and, pinching the bone like he might readily break it, he said, even as always,
“Put it down.”
You did as he told you and dropped the platter to the floor with a crash.
Rather than berate you for the broken china—or the four other pieces before it—your husband only smiled.
“Are we done?”
Hell, you wanted to be. Slide over a pen and a one-way plane ticket to someplace in BFE, and you’d be signing those divorce papers in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, your dear husband was just referring to the temper tantrum.
You weren’t totally sure if you were finished on that front, so you looked him up and down and shrugged.
“Now darling—” he started.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Light of my life—”
“I’ll kill you.”
Your cool, level-headed groom took each gibe like it was his sworn duty, and only when he yanked your wrists behind your back and shoved you toward the bedroom door did you sense that he might not be too pleased with your behavior.
Your knees struck the edge of the California King at the center of the room, and before you could will yourself not to fall face-first, Bucky nudged you hard again.
Still pinning your hands behind you, he followed your collapse on the bed and leaned over your prone body.
His breaths were hot on your ear; you could tell he was smiling as he started to hike your dress up your legs.
“It’s all part of the deal, doll.”
You wriggled under his hold and tried to angle yourself better to see him, hoping he’d see your scowl.
“The deal was to get married,” you reminded him.
“Mhmm,” Bucky hummed, just then starting to trail a finger up the uncovered skin of your calf with his other hand, “And what is it that married people do?”
You kicked your foot reflexively, paused, then said,
“Fight. Constantly. Probably resent each other for the better half of two decades before we finally decide that ‘making it work’ for the kids isn’t worth it at all, and I claim half of everything you own in a bitter divorce.”
That earned a chuckle from Bucky. He kept his roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezed the flesh just below the swell of your rear.
“Don’t worry, my lawyer drafted a pretty good prenup.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but then he was tracing the contour of your ass with his palm, and you cut yourself short. Bucky carried on, careless as ever.
“But the kids you mentioned,” he said, “How are we supposed to get those?”
You pursed your lips and tried hard not to move when his fingers drifted inward—you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. The bottom of your dress was bunched around your hips now, leaving you sorely exposed. Had your bridesmaids not thrust that stupid white lingerie set upon you hours before the wedding, you probably would’ve chosen something a little more modest than a thong. But here you were.
At least the sight seemed appealing to your husband, whose eyes hadn’t left you once while his hands grew even hungrier to feel your warmth.
“I’m hoping a sperm donor or one of your double-crossing mobster friends will knock me up, honestly,” you said, feigning enthusiasm at the thought.
A tart slap delivered to your ass told you that Bucky hadn’t found that funny. After, he started kneading the skin a bit harder.
“No shot,” he shook his head, suddenly gliding his fingers down closer to your core and waiting for you to say something in protest, “Only one that’s gonna be pumping this thing full of babies is me, I promise.”
It was like he wanted your retaliation, whether that be by a thinly veiled look of disgust or a reactionary jab of your own. You weren’t keen on fulfilling any wish of his, but at this point, you felt you had no other choice. When you sensed he was distracted by the newly-discovered heat between your legs and had loosened his grip on your wrists, you flipped yourself over on the bed. Shoved at his chest before he knew what to do with himself.
Of course, the push didn’t send him far, but it was enough to get his attention—and his hands off of you.
“I’m not having your babies, Barnes! I am never going to fuck you, no matter how long we stay fake married,” you spat.
At that, Bucky just raised his eyebrows and wet his lips. You were cramming your wedding dress back into place, glaring at him the whole time, and were scarcely more aware of the bright, teeming city outside the window than you were of your husband’s own growing erection.
Finally, you’d said it. His new wife wouldn’t fuck him. The sound of your resistance was almost a pleasure unto itself, and the longer you stared at Bucky with growing contempt and resolve not to do that thing, the more determined he became to make it happen.
Cat-and-mouse games had long been a staple in his life, and he was pleased to see them carry into his marriage as well. Surely if he’d triumphed in every pursuit for the last twenty years—facing the likes of some seriously execrable bandits and racketeers—he could take on a bratty woman less than half his size. You said you didn’t want his babies now, but just wait until he’d fucked you full of his cum once or twice. You’d be begging him for it in no time at all, and shortly thereafter, he’d have you barefoot and pregnant as many times as he liked. Always swollen with one of his children and whining for more.
The woman before him now had a murderous glint in her eyes, but he could fuck that away easy. In fact, he would live to do it. He traced the outline of your thigh over your dress and smiled when you tried not to recoil.
“Surely you didn’t think we’d be finger-painting and reading poetry to each other on our wedding night, hm?” he asked, almost delicately.
“Thought you might have one of your other women lined up,” you snorted. When you tried to move away, Bucky pinched your leg to make you stay. You winced.
“That’s not funny,” he said, a little more consternation in his tone. Like he actually cared whether you thought him a profligate Lothario or not, “Now that we’re married, it’s only you and me. No mistresses, nothing.”
Yeah, and he was just as likely arriving to your marital bed a blushing virgin. You rolled onto your side and pretended not to feel him tighten his grip as you did.
“Try the carnal part of our marriage yourself and I’m sure you’ll find I’m an exceptional fuck,” Bucky continued, speaking low as he stroked the chiffon of your dress.
You didn’t doubt the man was good—certainly the extent of his sexual escapades as a twenty-something seemed to demand it—but exceptional? No fucking way. You knew men like Bucky, with the world and every walking pair of tits at their fingertips, and almost all were incurably selfish. Cocky. The kind to jackhammer a woman for three consecutive minutes, roll over, and say, ‘Did you cum?’
No, there was not a snowball’s chance in hell your husband’s sexual prowess was even half as good as he claimed it was. Deciding to bite your tongue for the first time that night, though, you just stared at him blankly.
What you didn’t know was that your silence only stoked the flames of his ego, prompting him to press the matter further.
“What? You think I can’t fuck?” he said, “Any woman lucky enough to bed me has cum at least twice. Every time.”
Sure they did, Bucky, you wanted to say, but were suddenly drawn into his lap before you could speak.
“But let’s pretend I can’t,” he said, heedless of the face you made as soon as you were straddling his hips, “You wouldn’t let your husband prove himself tonight?”
“I don’t fuck strangers.”
Bucky smiled at that.
“Everyone’s a stranger until you get to blow them, honey,” he teased, squeezing your hips when you didn’t seem amused at all. Then you let out a cry, feeling yourself thrown back on the mattress like a rag doll while Bucky moved off.
Before you knew it, he was tugging your ankles down the length of the bed and widening his stance just a bit. He stopped pulling once your knees were grazing his black dress pants and your feet were dangling off of the bed.
“You like skylines?” he asked.
You frowned and raised a brow that he was quick to interpret as a ‘yes.’ He hauled you onto your feet.
“‘Course you do. All pretty girls like pretty skies,” he rattled on, strolling with you step-by-step to the set of French doors at the end of the room.
Bucky led you out to the balcony. The air was warm as it ever was, dull gusts of the evening wind curling up from the coastline below. Just as your husband had promised, the skyline of Santorini greeted you on either side, and you had to admit, it was more than just pretty. The views from your villa were absolutely breathtaking.
You stood with your back to Bucky, hands resting on the marble balustrade, and you felt him there, behind you. You didn’t bother to tilt your head when he drew even closer.
“What do you like most about it?” The question was simple enough, punctuated with a kiss on your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the horizon, the sea, even the quiet little streets down beneath, and you racked your brain trying to think of an answer that might satisfy him.
Before you could, though, you sucked in a breath when you felt your dress start to come undone at your back.
Bucky was unzipping your gown, gentle as ever, and probably grinning from ear to ear as he watched you shift uncomfortably in place and try to hold the material above your breasts where it had been fastened all day. Presently, you kicked your heel backward and hoped it would land somewhere near his balls. You missed.
“James,” you hissed.
Bucky groaned at the sheer intonation of his name on your lips.
“Yes, dear?”
“Why are you undressing me?”
Bucky had successfully dragged the zipper all the way down to your ass, and it seemed he was trying to shimmy the dress off your frame. You held on tight.
“I’d like to fuck my bride over the balcony railing, if that’s alright with you,” he answered truthfully.
The man was nothing if not blunt and crass. You turned around to give him a look, yanking your gown even closer to your chest.
“I’ll— I’ll tell my mother, Barnes.”
You felt stupid as soon as you’d said it—using your go-to threat whenever you were in distress. What were you, eleven?
“Your mother?” Bucky repeated, words steeped in derision, “Last I recall, mommy dearest was practically begging me to get you pregnant at the reception.”
Your jaw clenched, and you internally cursed your whole family. Your parents were supposed to be on your side throughout all of this—it was bad enough they’d pawned you off to a mob boss of unrivaled infamy all to settle a debt, but this? Your mother had assured you just the day before that Mr. Barnes was bound to tire of you within the year. No mention of sex or babies whatsoever.
The same mother who had beat you over the head with the notion of your own virginity since you were old enough to read, the one who had underscored just how important it was to wait for the right man to give yourself body, mind, and soul to, turning around and telling this filthy criminal to have you any way he liked. And knock you up? The fucking nerve of that woman.
You were so preoccupied with thoughts of your own backstabbing family that you hardly felt Bucky drag your dress the rest of the way down your body. It was only when you were completely bare before him, and your husband had just started to skim his lips over your tummy that you tensed with surprise.
“I don’t have to fuck you just yet, doll,” he murmured, having sunk to his knees and only moving lower. Then the corners of his lips twitched, “Least not with my dick.”
You tried to pry his head from between your legs before he could stretch his tongue so much as an inch.
“James!”
Again with that name.
“You know, I love when you call me that, Mrs. Barnes.”
Bucky was peering up at you now, soaking in the sight of your body in a white lace bra, panties, and stockings.
“Is my bride feeling shy?” he teased, gently nipping at your inner thighs.
You weren’t sure what you were feeling in that moment, to be honest. Revulsion, betrayal, arousal, you name it—each crowned with an all-encompassing hatred for the man currently occupying the space between your legs—while a still stronger desire almost hoped he would stay.
“You can hate your husband all you want and still let him tonguefuck you,” Bucky growled against your skin.
Like he’d read your mind.
In reality, your husband hardly needed the powers of telepathy to tell him just how turned on you were; the sopping wet spot in your panties said as much. From his vantage point, Bucky saw the disgust in your eyes slowly eclipsed by lust, and with a single flick of his tongue, he knew he would have you exactly where he wanted you.
“Just let it happen, honey.”
He felt your fingers thread tight through his hair and the first stir of your hips in tandem. One small, delectable whimper crossed your lips, and it took everything in Bucky not to tear your panties straight off with his teeth.
Instead, the man opted for a soft, gentle lick over your clothed slit. Testing the waters.
Your whimper was quick to meld to a moan, and then, just as fast:
“N-no, Bucky.”
To your dismay, his tongue didn’t retreat, only making firmer laps against your centre while his lips grazed the lace. He gripped your thighs and wedged himself deeper, and again, you cursed the paper thin fabric of your panties for letting you feel everything his mouth was doing. He hadn’t even made proper contact with your cunt, and your knees were already starting to shake.
He pressed a kiss above your clit through the flimsy material, and you almost tore a clump of hair from his head.
“No. Please.” You hardly made sense to yourself; it was clear you wanted his touch, but something inside you wasn’t quite ready to submit to the idea that this was all okay. That your husband’s tongue and lips might be meant for something like this, and you didn’t have to feel so guilty for wanting it either. Fucking purity culture.
“My pretty girl,” Bucky presently murmured above the fabric, words sending a dozen little shockwaves in their wake, “My beautiful fucking wife.”
The man inhaled your scent and could’ve sworn he was in ecstasy. Blinded by desire as he was, he really wasn’t bullshitting in the slightest when he gathered you to him and said you were the best; he’d genuinely grown transfixed by the feel of you, in spite of every fibre of his being telling him not to. The marriage was arranged, fake, and fueled by hatred—and somehow, Bucky couldn’t get enough.
Nor could he wait any longer. One light swipe of his finger tugged your panties aside, and then he was latching on, no cover this time, to take your clit between his lips. Sucking hard, going fast, needing it bad.
A moan rang loud in his ears, and your hand on his head was instantly joined by the other. You yanked his hair like you never had before, pulling so tight at the roots as though your pleasure depended on it. Bucky smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue.
“Feel good, baby?” he breathed.
His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions.
You didn’t know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Bucky flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking.
“You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?”
His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the marble and spread you even wider for the taking.
He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.
Bucky wanted to break that resolve. He brought one hand closer to your entrance.
And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside. The act surprised your husband almost as much as it did you—not quite, but almost—upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him.
When you whined a loud, protracted, ‘FUCK!’ he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this.
Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Bucky knew you were close.
He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else’s. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.
Then, unexpectedly, both were robbed of your touch.
Seized with fear, you shoved Bucky off and stumbled away from his glistening face. You took off toward the doors and fled the balcony before you could think.
“What the f— honey? Honey?!” Bucky sputtered. He bounded after you.
You’d thrown yourself in the master bathroom and locked the door behind you in the blink of an eye. Outside, your husband had only to stare in pure bewilderment and awe, mind reeling at what had just happened.
Fucking hell, he knows. He knows! You collapsed against the door and slid down a couple inches. Your hand reflexively flew to your mouth to stifle the sounds when Bucky began pounding the wood behind you.
“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s—what’s goin’ on?”
In truth, you’d rather chug bleach than divulge the thought that had just scared the everliving fuck out of you back there. It was stupid and senseless and should’ve been frightening you for weeks before it ever came to this, but here you were, panicked in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite because you’d never done this before—and you’d never reached climax in your life without bursting into tears.
Fuck, you felt stupid. How could you think this would be any different—or that Bucky’s tongue wouldn’t eventually attempt to wrest an orgasm out of you?
It’d just felt so good, you thought maybe a new climax brought by someone else’s fingers might free you from the same unsavory demise you’d met a hundred times before, but then it hit you, shortly after Bucky had plunged his fingers inside, you were going to cry.
You winced when Bucky’s knocks grew louder, his voice gaining more ire by the second, it seemed.
“Open the fucking door!”
He’d rake you over the coals for this. Getting so close to what he wanted, only to have his silly little bride snatch it all away and run hiding in the en-suite bathroom? Your stomach turned at the thought of what men in the mob were liable to do with women like you—what Bucky might conceivably do now that you’d sparked his rage.
Your eyes darted to the window just as his fist shook the doorframe behind you. You ran over to the tub, tucked squarely beneath the windowsill, and climbed onto it just to get a hold of the fastenings around the glass.
One click synchronized with the furious cadence being hammered on the door, and just as you started to slide the pane up the way, a heavy thud sounded outside. The weight of your husband’s body being thrust against the door, most likely.
You bit your lip and lifted one leg over the windowsill, shuffling your body even closer to the outside world.
Three floors up! Have you lost your mind? You could hear your father’s words ringing in your skull already. There was a ledge, you reasoned, no more than ten feet below, if you could just grab hold of the frame right there and slide down the cool stone you might—
“Fuck,” Bucky groaned.
You watched your husband heave through the busted door of the bathroom, wide eyes and a ‘Here’s Johnny’ flourish raging hot on his face. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you started to lower yourself out of the window, hoping desperately for that ledge below to be sturdy. But before you could make it even half of the way there, strong arms were circling your frame and yanking you back inside, hurtling straight into the bathtub with Bucky tumbling over you.
“What are you doing?!” he roared.
You wriggled under his weight, petrified of the fiery look in his eyes as he lurched over your frame.
He straightened up just enough to shake you by the shoulders—like a parent reprimanding a child.
“What the fuck was that?! Huh? You think that’s fucking funny, jumping out windows?”
No, no, not funny, you wanted to bite back, but found your mouth dry and unable to speak. When Bucky shook you again, you had only to whimper a pathetic sound.
The man was enraged. Stubble still damp with your juices and looking undeniably frazzled and spent, he drew closer to your face and demanded you look at him. When he took hold of your cheeks in both hands, the command couldn’t have reached you any more clearly.
“What— what was that for?” his voice lowered as he tried to catch his breath. You still couldn’t move.
“I-I don’t—” you stopped and hardly knew how to say it:
Sorry to cut our tonguefucking session short, I was just afraid I might burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears while you licked and sucked me through the best orgasm of my life. I’d rather jump off, or out of, a building than tell my mob boss husband that I can’t cum without crying. By the way, I’m a virgin!
Instead, you just blinked and stared back at him.
“Can’t…do it,” you murmured.
Bucky’s expression only grew more puzzled by the words out of your mouth. He squeezed your face tighter and leaned in even closer.
“Do what? Sex? Fuck, I— I didn’t mean to be that aggressive, hell, I’m sorry.” He stopped to run a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you could’ve sworn you saw the first glint of compunction in his eyes.
He looked away a few seconds, as if collecting what fragmented thoughts he could, then brought his head back down to your level and took your hands in his.
“Honey?” he tried getting your attention, just barely above a whisper now, “I know the whole thing’s fucked, I know.”
That was the understatement of the century. To your surprise, Bucky’s gaze softened when he saw a scowl cross your face.
“We don’t…have to do anything. I was just pushing your buttons earlier. Being a dick.”
His tongue moved to wet his lips once more, this time without the seductive, smug demeanor he usually wore and simply exhibiting discomfort. He swallowed. The bow tie around his neck appeared to him to be fastened far too tight all of a sudden, and then, haphazardly, he started clawing at the garment to get it off.
You didn’t know why you felt compelled to help. It was like all ten fingers just lifted of their own accord to join Bucky’s hands in trying to undo his tie.
The silk fabric wasn’t tied, but knotted, crudely and inflexibly, beneath the little black bow. You frowned. Still unable to meet his gaze as you worked your fingers under the tangled material and tried to pretend like the two of you weren’t still sweating profusely from the events that had just transpired—both the tonguefucking and the window-jumping.
“Who tied this, a five-year-old?” you muttered.
“I’m thirty-eight, thanks,” Bucky returned just as quietly.
Both of you indulged in a smile that lasted no longer than a second, but you felt the tension ease a little.
This was not where you thought your dreaded wedding night was headed before. Curled up in a bathtub with your hands around your husband’s neck—and not actually trying to kill him—while Bucky blinked almost nervously the longer your hands lingered on his collar. It seemed he’d found something especially tantalizing on the wall behind your head, because his stare remained fixed on that spot the whole time you fiddled with his tie.
Maybe that, along with the last ebb of alcoholic influence from the reception still coursing through your veins, had emboldened you to come right out and say it while Bucky was looking away. You couldn’t be sure.
“I’ve never had sex before.”
At last, the tie loosened a little.
Bucky flicked his gaze back to yours in a second.
“What?”
You lifted a brow, wondering if he really needed an explanation as to what it meant to have never gotten laid before, but you decided against indulging him any further. Bucky seemed keen on doing that all by himself.
“You’re a virgin?”
You nodded.
“Didn’t my overbearing mother make sure you knew?”
“Yeah, I thought she was full of shit,” Bucky answered bluntly. Then, catching sight of the semi-offended look in your eye, mixed with a tad more amusement than indignation, he added, “I mean— I didn’t think you’d, uh, wanna wait…twenty-five years for some action.”
He winced when he realized that sounded just as bad. His throat cleared shortly to make way for a new attempt at comity, but you cut him off, shaking your head as you finally got the knot to untangle.
“No, I get it. I don’t know why I waited this long either,” you shrugged.
As soon as you’d freed him from his bow tie, you started to stand from the bath tub. Bucky, too, straightened to his full height and started to close the window while you walked back to the bedroom.
You eyed the rose petals strewn across the duvet and felt a little more relaxed this time around. The weight of the V-word had been lifted from your shoulders, and now you had only to share the crying-while-cumming stuff to Bucky later on. Much later on, you hoped.
You crawled onto the bed and stretched out on your belly, playing with the soft red petals and wondering if room service was still offered at this hour.
Bucky had just stepped out of the bathroom when he halted at the threshold. Saw your body sprawled out on the bed, back arched and ass pointed in the air as you reached over for the phone on the nightstand. He stared for a second too long and felt a familiar stir in his pants.
Sonovabitch, he started to think, before chiding himself silently, Shut up, man, she’s a virgin. Be cool. Be cool—don’t make her jump out a window again.
He ducked back in the bathroom and eased the door to just a crack while you discovered a voice on the line:
“Hi! Hey, I’d like to order room service to, uh…” your voice trailed off. Then, covering the mouthpiece, “James, what’s our room number?”
Inside the bathroom, Bucky squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of his name. Already palming his erection through his dress pants as he leaned against the wall.
“We rented the whole building, dear,” he called back.
“Oh.” He could just imagine the slight pout on your lips as you spoke. Then you asked if he wanted anything to eat, Bucky thought only of the sweet nectar between your legs, and he answered aloud, no, he was fine, really.
For the first time in his life, the man felt positively ashamed he was about to rub one out in a bathroom, alone. It wasn’t like this was the first it had ever been done, but now there was you, innocent and oblivious in the next room over, while Bucky undid his belt and quietly freed his cock from his dress pants. It felt kind of perverted, in a way, but he knew he needed this release to put his mind at ease and not feel so affected by you.
While you scanned your phone for a menu and chatted with the concierge downstairs about various food items, Bucky was spitting in his hand and fumbling for his shaft. You talked American Wagyu sirloin, lobster thermidor, and seared Faroe Island salmon while he thought achingly about the way your cunt had tasted and how badly he wanted to try it again.
How did he feel about an artisan cheese platter? Bucky hardly had the wits about himself to answer beyond a strangled, ‘Whatever you want, honey’ and a tightened fist around his cock, stroking hard to get the filthy thoughts out of his head before the food arrived.
Ever sweet, soft, supple, and savory—his mind reeled with fresh memories of that place between your thighs, and he almost lurched forward in pleasure.
Your brute of a mob boss husband was irreparably pussy-whipped and hadn’t even fucked you yet. He gripped the bathroom sink beside him and sincerely wished it wasn’t his hand doing the work right now. But of course, he had to be patient, had to be kind—couldn’t force himself on a woman who clearly wasn’t ready.
Again, he spit in his palm and jerked himself fast.
Any minute now, he thought with some relief.
Your feet padded softly into the living room as the pleasure inside him was starting to crest. Still pining for your warmth and the way your legs trembled around his head, Bucky was all but fucking his hand at this point. He’d snagged his bottom lip between his teeth in a lopsided smile and groaned, too low to be heard, and pumped himself even faster for his impending orgasm.
A thought crossed your mind as you stopped ahead of the sofa. You pivoted.
Suddenly, you were skipping back to the bathroom, wanting to know Bucky’s wine preferences before you placed another order.
You barged in and froze.
“Sorry!” you squeaked, darting out just as fast.
Five seconds slower and you probably would’ve seen Bucky blow his load all over the sink. As it was, the man was left sorely at a loss for any form of release and heaving fast, ragged breaths from the colossal scare you’d just given him.
Good fucking going, Buck—your wife wants to cuddle and eat cheese and you’re out here beating your meat.
Bucky shoved himself back in his pants and waited an excruciating minute for the sound of your second window exit of the night. A slammed door, a frantic phone call, a few sobs into your pillow as you realized how dirty and depraved your husband was, anything.
He was only met with silence.
Taking one more shaky breath, Bucky reached for the doorknob and started back out. Cautiously.
The man took his slow, silent leave of the bathroom with his gaze trained toward the doors—half-expecting to see his bride rappelling from the balcony—but then quickly shifted to the bed. Finding you kneeling at the edge.
“James?”
Your voice almost pained.
A word was all it took. Bucky was back on his knees.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted it to go away, honey. I’m sorry.”
Go away? You quirked a brow and couldn’t hold his gaze much longer; just trailed your vision down his torso to his pants, then his erection, still standing prominent as ever.
Bucky struggled to decide whether you were ticked off or intrigued, seeing your eyes make their painful appraisal of his length beneath his pants. Your brow was pinched, but your head was cocked. Almost curious.
“Are you mad at me?” you asked, gaze fixed on the spot.
Immediately, Bucky rose to his feet and crawled back on the bed, seizing your body with both of his hands.
“No! No, not mad at all,” he mumbled as he sidled up beside you. Pleased to see you hadn’t recoiled, “I was just, uh…missing you, ‘s’all.”
If his men could see him now, Bucky was sure he’d be the laughing stock of all the town. Doting and kind, eyes softened beyond recognition, he just watched you and wanted nothing more than to repair the smile that had ebbed from your face. Come ridicule, hell, or high water, the man was infatuated with his bride—all broken plates and attempted window escapes be damned.
Presently, you brought your hand down to his bulge.
Bucky stiffened but didn’t speak. He wanted you to do this on your own, of your own volition.
“You seem kinda mad to me.” You hardly knew what you were doing. Just rubbing his length and hoping it was something he’d like.
Where Bucky had wanted to see you smile, you just wanted to hear him grunt and whine—maybe grab your hips and beg you to do something, please. You’d never felt any such degree of control, and you suspected Bucky had never not felt it himself. You wanted him desperate.
You were playing a dangerous game, you knew it, but something inside those baby blues said he wanted to do it, too. Do anything for you, quite frankly.
You watched the rise and fall of Bucky’s broad chest and stroked his length even softer.
“James.”
“Uh-huh?” His mouth hung open with a gentle grunt, fighting every instinct to buck into your touch.
At last, you squeezed his shaft and prodded him on. Let your head drift closer to his so his lips would graze the apple of your cheek, and just when you sensed he wanted a taste, you tilted your face toward his own,
“We haven’t even kissed since the ceremony.”
Bucky stared blankly at you, enrapt with the pulse of your fingers. You could tell he was aching to move.
“Oh yeah?” he murmured.
You nodded a wordless affirmation and slid sharply back in bed as Bucky lunged after you. Your hands flew from his pants to the plush mattress behind you as you shifted—or, rather, scrambled—back in place and felt your husband climb over you hungrily.
“That what my wife wants?” he murmured, frame slotting tight between your legs.
You nodded again, and had only to suck in a breath before Bucky was devouring your lips. The kind of flushed, frantic, filthy kiss that would’ve doubtlessly wrought looks of horror on every face at your wedding had he grabbed you that way after the declarations of ‘I do’ had been spoken.
You loved him like this, impassioned and a bit unhinged.
His tongue worked his way past your lips and scoured every soft, fleshy inch between the insides of your cheeks before he took your face in his hands, kissing you roughly.
Something hard and throbbing nudged your sex, and suddenly you were whining in his mouth. Wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Ah, honey, don’t,” Bucky groaned, visibly straining to contain himself. When you dug your heels even deeper in his back, the groan that followed from him was hoarse and guttural.
“I thought— I…fuck,” your husband turned his head to curse as you grinded your hips up to his. You had to bite back a smile.
“I just wanna do what married people do,” you murmured coyly, pretending not to see when Bucky shot you the most red-hot, wanton look he’d imparted all evening.
“Yeah?” Like a kid in a candy shop the size of Sears.
Bucky took your face in his hands once more and made sure to scan your expression for any shred of doubt. On finding nothing there, he sat panting, half-disbelieving and half-contemplating all the wretched things he wanted to do to you. You squeezed his sides with your thighs and just hoped your husband knew what to do, because, in truth, you didn’t have the first fucking idea.
A few dry, clinical terms flashed before your mind’s eye, along with your mother’s bleak depiction of what treatment lay in store for a woman on her wedding night, and as Bucky started to work his belt and his pants off, you just hoped he wouldn’t be cruel.
He couldn’t be, right? He’d only mowed down a hundred men and dismembered dozens more, you were told, but surely a set of eyes this soft, caring, and kind couldn’t belong to a monster. You let him lift your hips and shimmy your panties, garter belt, and stockings down your legs, and when he returned, you tried your best not to betray the thoughts in your head.
Bucky hadn’t been with a virgin for as long as he could remember—maybe ever. His own ‘deflowering’ an ancient relic of his boyhood and the multitude of partners since then a mere flurry of nameless faces, he sincerely couldn’t recall a time when he’d asked, or cared, whether the woman beneath him had her cherry intact. He didn’t suppose it could be too different, as he peeled the last pieces of your lingerie set off your body and saw you seemed perfectly ready. He ran a finger between your folds and felt you shiver with what looked like excitement. Piece of cake, he thought, smiling.
No doubt he would take great joy in making you his own. His bride, his wife, an unblemished beacon of light in a life as sordid as his, looked perfect spread before him. You would adjust to his size. Bucky trailed the head of his cock up your slit and coated himself in your juices, and just when he’d bracketed his other arm around your head on the pillow, you let out a small sound.
“Are you sure it’ll fit?”
Bucky fisted his length and pressed the tip to your entrance.
“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I think so.”
He hadn’t yet met a woman who wasn’t able to fit him.
“Okay.”
Somehow, your voice sounded even smaller, head lodged between pillows and the crook of Bucky’s elbow. You felt small. Frankly, it didn’t seem like your husband was quite computing the worries that were pervading your brain, but you decided he knew best—your mother had assured you that husbands always did—and when Bucky first pressed the head of himself to the seam of your cunt, you hardly even whimpered.
You watched his brow furrow above you. He tried to go further.
Your folds were as soaked as he’d ever seen a woman’s, your hole practically pulsing with desire, and somehow, he couldn’t push in.
Bucky snagged his lip between his teeth and braced himself with the aid of the headboard, taking your hip in his other hand. A breath sounded on your lips the second he adjusted, and shortly thereafter, he felt your gaze on the same place he was watching: the spot where your bodies were trying to connect.
His features darkened at the prospect of failing, or even appearing incompetent to you in the slightest. He’d done this hundreds of times before, why wouldn’t it work?
When he felt your eyes trail back up his body and study his face—maybe wondering why her new groom hadn’t gotten around to thrusting into her yet, he thought—he felt a swell of panic and pushed.
Against his better judgment and the feel of your body, he muscled his way through and forced his cock inside. Bottoming out in a single, stabbing thrust.
You seized in pain but wanted to be a good wife for him.
Bucky, too, felt his hips stutter at the resistance your walls were giving him, but then remembered how he’d sworn to be a dutiful husband, and kept going.
Together, you stared anywhere but the other’s face and gritted your teeth for two entirely different reasons—you, in agony, and Bucky, in ecstasy, the latter hoping with everything in him that you liked this as much as him.
Bucky took a tender, if not slightly awkward, rhythm rutting against your body and stared steady at the headboard like he always did.
You were in pain and faced with nothing but his hulking chest, moving up and down, back and forth, over and over again like a goddamn seesaw from hell while it felt like your insides were presently being torn to shreds.
Who fucking enjoys this? you wanted to wail, but feigned a moan instead, raking your nails down Bucky’s back, Why isn’t he looking at me? Why isn’t he touching me?
Your walls involuntarily clenched around him, and he swallowed a moan.
Just think of baseball, beer, math, the Roman Empire, anything to keep from busting right now, Bucky told himself as he clenched his jaw and fought to maintain his pace. Your pussy just felt so. fucking. good.
Beneath him, you had tried and failed to fight back tears. The burn was just too much; the longer he thrusted, the more your walls contracted, and confusingly, stupidly, it seemed like he was using you. Your mother was right, most likely, that sex was just a means to an end for men like Bucky, and your husband didn’t care about your pleasure at all. You fought hard to keep the waterworks at bay, that one thing you hadn’t wanted Bucky to see, but eventually, the tears were flowing freely.
You stifled a sob that your husband mistook for a moan.
He fucked you even faster and felt a grin start to twitch at the corners of his lips when you made a sound that seemed consistent with pleasure.
“Feel so fucking tight,” Bucky grunted, about to lower his gaze to your face for the first time since he’d entered you, “So nice and tight and w—hey, hey, baby?”
He stilled inside as soon as he saw that you were crying. Took your face in his hands and almost couldn’t believe the sight of your tear-stained cheeks beneath him.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, scanning your face for any signs of harm.
You just shook your head and tried to brush him off.
“Keep going, I’m good.”
Bucky seemed angered at the suggestion. He brought your face closer to his and stared almost reproachfully down at you. Then he paused a beat and swiped one of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked.
“N—”
“Don’t lie.”
You squirmed a bit and winced. That was answer enough for Bucky, and he slowly pulled out of you.
“Aw hell.”
The two of you glanced down to see a blooming red spot on the comforter. Bucky rubbed the blood in disbelief.
He’d gone too far. Again. Hurt something inside of you that couldn’t be fixed with a kiss. While you struggled to sit up among the pillows, Bucky was running a hand through his hair and cursing himself up and down.
“Why didn’t you say something?” he scowled.
“I didn’t wanna interrup—”
“If I’m making you bleed, you stop me, for fuck’s sake.”
“Well you seemed to be having a pretty good time!”
Bucky didn’t need to tell you in words what was painted on his face; he was pissed off and probably bound to slip off the bed any second, when your tears started welling up again. Then he eased off, remembering he was more mad at himself than anyone else, and slid closer to you. He tried pulling you into his chest, but you didn’t budge.
“C’mon,” you said, grabbing his wrist, “Let’s keep going.”
Bucky eyed you incredulously.
“Nuh-uh.”
“Uh-huh,” you insisted. He shot you a glare but didn’t protest when you guided his hand between your legs.
You were spread back open for him in no time. Still stinging like hell and ready for another go. Bucky almost couldn’t believe it.
“My headstrong wife.” He managed a smile before kissing the crown of your head, and kept right on kissing that spot no matter how far his fingers were traveling.
“You owe me two orgasms, remember, Mr. Barnes?”
It seemed Bucky’s boastful claims of late were in fact the furthest thing from his mind as he crawled back over your body. He pried your knees apart and left just enough room for his frame, taking his fingers to your folds and rubbing in light, gentle circles.
The bleeding had stopped. What little remained was long forgotten, and duly, the pain from recent memory was slowly but surely purged with every flick of his thumb. Bucky planted an arm next to your head and kept touching you there until your face relaxed completely.
When he chanced a finger inside, he was careful not to rub so much as plunge in quick, shallow motions, and at the first signs of pleasure, press light and tender kisses on your skin.
“If it hurts at all, you tell me.”
He sounded stern as he inserted another finger, but really, the man was all putty in your hands, wanting to please you and tease you in any way that he could.
When you told him faster, he sped up; you gripped his hair and said slow down, he did the same. He curled his digits in time with every whimper and moan you made and took care not to be too harsh on your sweet spot.
The only time he paused was when you looked up and asked him point-blank: could he fuck you sweet and gentle now?
Bucky paused. Swallowed.
The man would’ve screwed you six ways to Sunday if you asked him; that wasn’t the problem. The only traces of hesitation remained where your eyes said something different. Even as he shuffled between your legs at your behest, aligned his cock with your entrance, and felt a wave of desire wash over him, he pressed his forehead to yours and searched your glossy gaze once more.
“You sure about this, bunny?” he murmured.
Your heart melted at the name. You couldn’t deny you were frightened, and perhaps a bit worse for the wear after your last attempt, but his words were a comfort, his hand on your cheek a welcome gesture. When his thumb grazed your lips, you kissed it and nodded.
“Alright sweet girl,” Bucky said, tone laced with affection.
This time, before pressing the head of himself inside, Bucky caught your lips and kissed you softly. Rubbed himself up and down your slit—paying extra attention to your clit—and coated himself completely before trying to penetrate you again.
Your cheeks flushed, and you kissed him harder.
“P-please, Bucky, fuck me,” you murmured against his mouth, eliciting a small grunt from him.
“Yeah? You want your husband’s cock inside you, doll?” He kept the pretense of teasing, but really, he was just trying to make sure you wanted this as badly as he did. By the blissed out look on your face and the soft, ceaseless squelching noises produced by your arousal, he got the message pretty quickly.
He breached your folds with just the tip at first. You both felt your muscles contract. Instead of blindly pushing ahead like he had before, Bucky trained his gaze on your face and watched for any signs of discomfort.
“Everything okay, bunny?” he hummed as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face.
You were half in awe of how attentive he was, and doubly impressed by the stretch that followed—like a pinch, but nothing like the pain you’d felt before. You peered up at your husband and squeezed his shoulders.
“It— it doesn’t hurt this time,” you said, breathless.
Bucky could’ve caved at the sweet, innocent expression alone—like you were pleasantly surprised this hadn’t caused excruciating pain—and his lips moved down to pepper your cheeks with kisses again.
“Doll, I’m so sorry.”
The sounds and sighs of your pleasure beneath him, along with the words telling him it was okay, really, he hadn’t meant to do it, all made him feel even guiltier for having hurt you in the first place. It took him some time assailing your face with tiny, apologetic kisses before he even thought to feed you another inch.
When he finally plunged himself deeper, it wasn’t without your express permission; even then, Bucky feared he might split you in two.
The whole time he eased himself inside, he was moving his gaze between your face and the place between your two bodies—watching you open for him and take him inch by inch. He rubbed his thumb over your clit when you whimpered.
“Doing so good for me.”
“Stretching so nice for this cock.”
“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”
Every syllable of his praises flooded your head like honey. Feeling him stretch you out, fill you up, and rock you softly with his first shallow thrusts, all while talking you through it, had your mind ablaze and near-euphoric.
Pleasure practically searing your veins, you didn’t even hear yourself, or really mean to say it, as soon as you did.
“This doesn’t feel dirty at all.”
An epiphany to you and a puzzle to Bucky.
“What’s’at, honey?” He was still rutting his hips and slowly picking up speed. Your husband groaned when you clenched around him and pulled him even deeper—before you realized what you’d said.
Your cheeks flushed.
“I— I was always told sex made you dirty. This feels—” you stopped to swallow a moan when Bucky grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you, “pretty nice.”
‘Pretty nice.’ Your husband couldn’t help the smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. He wrapped his big, muscly arms around you and pulled you closer to his chest.
“Makes you dirty?” Bucky said, disbelief evident in his tone before his smile broke into a grin, “Baby, you’re the cleanest, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He didn’t let you endeavor to protest, just buried his face in your neck and pressed teasing kisses all over the skin while he continued to pump in and out of you. He knew to keep hitting that spot, too.
You were drowning in whimpers and kisses when Bucky brought his lips to your ear.
“Doesn’t make you dirty at all,” he assured you, “Just makes you my wife.”
You clawed Bucky’s back when he sped up a little, and you felt the pleasure soar to even greater heights when he propped your legs above his shoulders—a brand new angle for him to bend you like a pretzel and fuck you good.
“You take this cock too nice to be dirty,” he gritted his teeth and continued to soothe you just how he knew you liked it, “Such a good little wife, sucking up every inch of me like you were made for it.”
Your lips parted in a soft ‘o,’ feeling him plunge the depths of your cunt like he never had before. Bucky slipped his thumb in your mouth while he held your face.
“That what you are, bunny? A good girl?”
You nodded your head and sucked his thumb, feeling yourself fucked dumb as you did. Bucky loved that blissed out look in your eyes.
“Good girl for daddy?” he cooed.
Your ankles trembled around his neck as soon as he said it. You nodded again, yes, you were, and felt a light coil start to form in your lower stomach as Bucky kept pounding you and pushing his thumb between your lips.
Then, with a pop, he plucked the digit from your mouth and brought it down to your clit. He started soft at first, but before long he was rubbing vicious circles on that little bundle of nerves, watching you come undone before his eyes and clench around him even tighter.
“B-Bucky,” you whined, fisting the sheets underneath you both as you squirmed.
“Mhmm?” Your husband pretended to be oblivious.
“I w— I’m gonna—” The words could scarcely leave your lips without finding themselves punctured with a whimper as soon as they were spoken. Bucky thrusted harder.
“Gonna what? Cum for daddy?” he grinned, “Make a mess all over this cock?”
Your moans of pleasure more than sufficed for an answer. You nodded and winced, felt your whole lower half seize with a warm and heady feeling, and before you knew it, Bucky’s thrusts were sending you spiraling over the edge, with a wave of bliss following shortly behind. Sounds of skin slapping skin hardly faltered, and Bucky kept rubbing and fucking you all throughout the waves of your high.
Tears sprung to your eyes, and you didn’t care. Your mind was alight with more bright, fervid feelings than you could count or comprehend, and your body washed over with pleasure.
You clung to Bucky and felt him keep fucking you, even as you shrieked against his skin.
“One more for me, honey.”
You didn’t think that was possible. You had just spilled all over him, squeezing his cock like a vice and screaming his name, and now he wanted it all over again? So soon?
Your fingernails sunk into his arms as he continued to rut into you, and you started to shake your head.
“C-Can’t Bucky, I can’t, I can’t,” you sobbed, tears still streaming down your cheeks.
“Sure you can.”
Your husband had his mouth at your ear again, panting as the pace of his thrusts grew faster. He tilted his body slightly forward so your legs were pushed even higher above you—damn near grazing either side of your head—and pounded you relentlessly.
His voice seemed so calm and assured as he spoke,
“Cum for daddy. Show me just how fucking good this cock makes you feel and cum again for me.”
With a command like that, how could you refuse?
You came a second time, hands seizing Bucky's forearms, and screams tearing through your chest as you rode your high impaled on his cock over and over again. The sights and sounds and repeated, pulsing spasms of your pussy on his shaft sent Bucky chasing his release not long after, and you felt a warmth spread inside you.
Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, your cheeks practically drenched already. As you came down from your high, you started to blink.
But just as you lifted a hand to sop up the moisture, Bucky was leaning over you and into you with the brightest smile. Then he was kissing each wet, salty stain like it was the most natural thing in the world, sponging soft and gentle touches all over the spots your tears had overflown.
It seemed every nerve ending in your lower half was on the fritz, your body little more than mush underneath him, but somehow you managed to catch his mouth as he traversed the skin. You kissed him back, and Bucky drew you closer.
The two of you separated for a second, Bucky’s cock still resting comfortably inside you and his broad frame engulfing you in bed. He paused a beat. Seemed to consider something in his mind before speaking aloud.
“Honey,” he started, unsure of how he wanted to say this.
You peered up at him, curious. His seed had filled every contour and crevice of your aching walls and was just then starting to dribble out of you. Bucky seemed unfazed. He cupped both hands around your face.
“I love you.”
You blinked. No fucking way you were hearing those words.
“What?” You felt too awestruck to say anything else.
“I love you,” Bucky repeated. A smile was starting to tug at his lips, his thumb tracing your cheek while you stared at him in disbelief.
You would’ve liked to speak.
Would’ve loved to say those three little words right back.
In fact, you had just opened your mouth to tell him that, when a sound at the foot of the bed startled you both.
The warm glow of moonlight pouring in from the window panes was your only means to see it. But sight wasn’t worth much at all when a man appeared and pressed the barrel of a gun to Bucky’s temple, letting out a chuckle.
Another man, clad head-to-toe in polished black tactical gear approached from the far end of the room. Bucky gritted his teeth but remained motionless, hearing that man cock his firearm as well. You were surrounded on either side of the bed. Your blood ran cold.
“Sorry to interrupt the fun, Mr. Barnes,” the man on the left spoke so low and gruff he could scarcely be heard.
When Bucky started to stir, the man on the right raised his pistol as well. Curled his finger on the trigger.
“We haven’t even met your beautiful bride.” A set of cruel, glinting teeth turned in your direction. Suddenly, all eyes were trained on you—along with a third handgun, pointed at your head, as another man approached.
“Wedded bliss treating you well so far, Mrs. Barnes?”
9K notes · View notes
sugume · 2 months
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AITA FOR WHAT!? w/Jujutsu Kaisen
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( TW ) f!reader, dark + explicit content, dubcon/noncon, blowjob, fingering, cheating, Suguru’s part will make more sense if you read Gojo’s, unrealistic anal, sex toys, coercion, spanking.
Featuring: Toji Fushiguro, Geto Suguru, Ryomen Sukuna (yes, again) 
an: part two (more like 1.5) because my other one got so much love and I wanted to write all my babies <3  This one is a LOT darker than the first one bc I love testing my limits. 
PART 1 
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r/forcinghertosuckme posted by u/Toji_Fushiguro 
“W-what?” You stare at the man. “Suck me off right now or 'm going to throw you off the side of the mountain.” “Please--” “I’m not going to say it again girl, and I’m not swayed by begging.” He stares down at your shaking figure. You look at him and then behind you at the drop. You can’t even see the bottom. You wouldn’t survive that. You shake even harder. You have no choice you think as you drop down to your knees, you're so close to the edge that your feet dangle off the edge. “Pull it out, little girl.” The big man with dark hair who dragged you to the forest grunts out. Your hands are shaking as you unbuckle his pants and pull his pants down enough for his cock to jump out. You cry when you see the size of it, how are you going to suck something that huge. The tears you were holding in started to fall. “Enough with the tear's girl, they only make me harder—now put my cock into that pouty mouth, you don’t want me to put it in for you.”  You grab the base of his cock. Your hand doesn’t fully wrap around it. You bring your other hand up to fully cover his shaft. You start to move your hands up and down his shaft as you cry. “Use your fuckin’ mouth, feels like ‘m rubbing sandpaper on my dick with those dry hands. Get my cock wet.” He rolls his eyes, griping your chin with one hand, the other grabbing the back of your head. He pulls your mouth to his cock. “That’s it—no teeth or I'll shove you off the cliff with a mouth full of cum.”  Toji thrusts into your mouth, you take your hands off his shaft and hold onto his pants. He’s thrusting so hard you feel the rocks underneath you start to break off. You cry harder as you choke on his cock, trying to ignore the tingles in your pussy and the ache in your breast. 
r/fuckingmyfriendsgirl posted by u/Geto_Suguru 
You wake up to the feeling of fingers circling your clit. You smile and lean into your boyfriend's big chest. “Mm--Satoru,” You squirm when you feel light kisses on your shoulder. You lift your leg to his hip. He rubs your entrance before slipping two fingers into your wet cunt. You moan, his fingers feel thicker than normal, not as long. You chalk it up to your sleepy mind. “Want a kiss Toru,” You grind your ass into his cock as he finger fucks you. “Gimme a kiss baby.” You turn your head with puckered lips and freeze. Suguru grins from behind you. You gasp and try to pull away. He grabs your neck with his free hand, trapping you. “Stop! What are you doing Sugu, where's Toru?” You scream, twisting your head when he tries to kiss you. “No!” “Oh, don’t be like this y/n, don't act like you don’t cum on my cock every time Satoru is away on a trip.” The fingers on your jaw tighten and he bites your bottom lip. You struggle before you eventually give in. Satoru grins into the kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth. You taste blood. “W-where’s Satoru?” You cry. “Out, went to go get you treats because you said you didn’t feel good.” He whispers into your mouth. Your heart clenches. He wanted to make you happy and you're here cumming on his best friend's fingers. “Stop Sugu, t-this isn’t right.” You moan when the hand inside you curls up into your G-spot. “Then maybe he shouldn’t have made us fuck that one time, it was like he was asking for this to happen.” 
r/slippingitinherass posted by u/Ryomen_Sukuna
“Look at this fucking ass,” Sukuna smirks as he watches you slam your hips down his cock. He smiles and twists the anal plug he coerced you to wear this morning. You whine. “Love this ass s’much.” He slaps your raw ass. You scream and grip the pillow. You wouldn't be surprised if after this is done your ass the busied and bloody. “I wanna fuck this ass,” he pulls the anal plug out of your ass “I am gonna fuck this ass.” He pulls his cock out of your pussy. You clench around nothing. “N-not today ‘Kuna. Put it back in my pussy.” You whine grinding back on his dick. He leans to grab you by the neck. “No, we're gonna do what I want, and I want to fuck your ass.” “But--” “No little one, you’re here to satisfy my needs now stay still or it’s going hurt.” He pushes your head into the pillow. You whine. “Good girl.” He straightens back up before grabbing his soaked cock and bringing the tip to your puckered ass. “W-what about lube ‘Ryo?” You swallow, tensing up when he starts to shove his cock in. “Gave you a chance to wear a bigger plug this morin’ but you wanted to be a crybaby ‘bout it. This is punishment.” He answers as he shoves another inch into you. You cry out into the pillow. “Now next time I tell you to do something you’ll know I'm doing it for your own good.”   
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6K notes · View notes
soapyblubbles · 7 months
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⋆。˙ runaway pets ˙。⋆
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pairings: dark regulus + dark poly marauders
warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, implied kidnapping, threesome, implied fivesome, voyeurism, overstimulation, (light) slapping, choking, stockholm syndrome, smoking, shotgunning, pet names, etc.
a/n: please enjoy the much more comprehensive version of one of my very first works. there were a lot of inconsistencies and issues with the first version. I added a lot more detail to this and it honestly feels more like a one-shot than a drabble now. i'll add the unedited version at the bottom just incase anyone wants to take a peak. anyways, happy reading <3
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“I told you it’d be worse if you went to get help.” Regulus sits on one end of the bed, a small indulgent smile flitting across his lips. As if nothing was wrong. 
As if you weren’t being fucked within an inch of your life.
You turn your head to him, breathless pants leaving your mouth as Remus continues to rock into you. His hips slap into your own at a steady pace. How long had he been sitting there?
The air is stifling, sweat beading along your forehead and the small of your back. The arm around your waist only adds to the oppressive feeling, Remus’ strong grip keeping you upright and in place.
Your arms shake from exertion, and you have to force your hands to unclench from where they’re fisting the damp sheets.
With a whimper, you reach for Regulus, trying to find the comfort you once found in him before it all. Before he had selfishly stole you away. Before you knew of the darkness lingering just beneath the surface.
You weakly try to pry off the arm wrapped around you, but it doesn’t budge. It only tightens, pulling you up until your back hits Remus’ firm chest.
“Want sir now. Please- Remmy-” The lanky brunette ignores you, muttering something unintelligible into your neck as his thrusts speed up. Your attention was stolen from him. He doesn’t like that- not one bit.
Your face crumples at the silent dismissal, the tears you’d been holding in falling just as you reach another trembling high.
“Please, m’sorry sir- c-can we please go home now?” You gasp out. Your limbs burn, they have been for a while you suppose, but still you try to ignore it, concentrating on just Regulus for now.
But he only hums noncommittally, standing as he makes his way to the makeshift bar in the corner of the room. Regulus rubs his jaw in mock thought, scrutinizing the scene before him while he pours himself a glass of firewhiskey. The smell of cinnamon saturates the air, adding to the heavy atmosphere.
“Thought you wanted to come here-“ He gestures around the room, lazily draping himself on the nearby armchair. “For help.” The last word is said with a sneer and laced with so much venom that you balk.
Even though you can tell he’s done arguing about it, you still sob out: “I’ll be good- promise.”
You hear Sirius let out a scoff. He’s leaning against the headboard, his shirt unbuttoned and a lit cigarette in hand, doing nothing but watching as his friends ruin you.
He’d been the one to call Regulus when you came running to their house, barefoot and in nothing but a frail, white nightgown. “You’re already being good here, pup- s’no use in leaving.” He makes his way towards you, squishing your cheeks together, your lips forming an o-shape.
He blows smoke into your mouth, smirking when you cough at the burn. “Y’already gonna be punished anyway, might as well do that here- ain’t that right Reggie?”
Regulus rolls his eyes, breaking his normally composed demeanor. “Don’t call me-”
“Hush, I can’t focus when you lot keep talkin.” James' speech is slurred as he speaks up, moving his head slightly from between your legs. He pays no mind to the way Remus pumps in and out of you. His mouth is so close to where the two of you meet that you can feel his cool breath against your clit as he talks.
“S’annoying.”  
You clench around Remus at the feeling, and the man in question groans, giving you a particularly rough thrust.
James goes back to work at that, humming softly as he drinks in yours and Remus’ juices. You let out a another strangled moan, instinctively trying to tilt your hips away.
Instantly Sirius’ face darkens with anger, “Uh-uh, I don’t think so puppy.” A hand shoots out to grab the base of your neck as James’ hands grip the front of your thighs tightly.
“Don’t fuckin’ run away from him- you understand?” 
You nod shakily, chest rising and falling quickly as you watch him with unseeing eyes.
“Just take it like a good girl, princess.” James cooes, lightly nibbling on the inside of your thigh. You let out a startled yelp.
“What d’you say bunny?” Remus asks from behind you, hips slowing as he tries to find that spot. Trying to coax the words out of you. You whine, unable to answer until Sirius gingerly slaps your cheek, raising a sharp brow at you.
“M’sorry- m’so sorry Jamie.” Your head is spinning, an ache growing until it becomes practically mind numbing.
At this point it’s all you can focus on.
“Thought I taught you better than that pet.” Regulus chides, clicking his tongue in disappointment. He looks only slightly more disheveled than before. His hair is not neatly combed back like it was earlier, and his tie considerably loosened. His fingers dig into the cushioned arms of the chair, the veins in his forearms flexing in a way that makes your mouth water.
You lick your lips. “Sir-”
Remus shushes you. “S’ okay bunny- y’just have to make it up to him.” You cry out as he brushes against your g-spot, finally finding what he’s been looking for this whole time.
Each hit of his hips is aimed perfectly, giving you no room to breathe until you’re a gasping mess.
James’ mouth certainly doesn’t help. His warm tongue suckles at your clit, unrelenting as he brings you to that exhilarating peak over and over again.
Eventually he breaks away, wiping the wetness around his mouth with the back of his hand. A feral grin forms as he pushes the hair away from your face, cupping your teary cheeks. “That wasn’t so bad now was it? You can take a little more, right?”
Sirius answers before you can even think to open your mouth, a mocking frown on his face. “I don’t know about that Prongs- she seems a right mess already, huh? Don’t think she can go on.” He slaps between your legs, and a panicked moan startles its way out of you. 
You quickly come undone, so worked up from before, but the torment doesn’t end there.
“I think you're right, Pads.” James murmurs, as he slips his fingers through the mess of your cunt, the tips of his fingers grazing the base of Remus’ cock.
It’s enough to startle a groan out of him.
Sirius grabs onto your hips, reaching around James to take control of the even pace Remus set. “C’mon pup, make a mess on Moony’s cock- be a good little cockslut for us.”
He bounces you viscously atop Remus, everyone watching intently as you become a drooling mess.
Your set your lidded gaze on Regulus, whose self-control looks like it’s seconds away from snapping. 
Yet he makes no move to stop the situation.
“Come on princess- fuckin’ come for us. Make a fucking mess.” James growls into your ear, pinching your clit roughly. Tears well in your eyes, body tensing as you are, yet again, pushed off the edge.
“Fuck- such a good bunny.” Remus curses. 
Sirius and James mock your high pitched cries, taking a sadistic pleasure in watching you sob at the overstimulation.
Your limbs go slack, Remus panting heavily as he fucks you through it all, his breath fanning against your neck. He kisses your temple softly and you whine, barely able to move, even as the aftershocks flow through you. 
The three continue to overstimulate you, and Remus lets out a breathy chuckle when Sirius lets go of your hips, letting you fall face first into James’ chest.
“S’your turn princess. We’re not doing all the work for you- besides you still have three more cocks to go.”
☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾
UNEDITED VERSION
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honey-on-your-tongue · 7 months
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Stepdad! Miguel O'Hara. Always trying not to see you for the pretty princesa he's been fucking for months, even before he married your mom. Trying to stop the onslaught of lust and animalistic urge that overcomes him whenever you're around.
He finds himself failing when, late one night, he's making his way to the kitchen when he hears the familiar sound of your moans and whimpers. Unable to help himself, he wanders toward your bedroom, surprised to find your door slightly ajar.
The scent of your arousal is thick, making his mouth water and his cock spring to attention. He peeks into your bedroom, delighted when he finds you spread on the bed, fingers stuffed into your soaked cunt.
You writhe and whine, breath heavy. He can hear your pussy squelching in the little breaks between your sounds. He reaches for himself, adjusting his cock and trying to push away the desire.
But then you have to go and moan, “Miguel! Miguel, please!”
He loses it. He's just about seeing red as he bursts into your room, his chest heaving with heavy breaths.
You jump, embarrassed, and he's on you almost instantly, in you within mere minutes.
As he slides into you, you moan, body shuddering beneath him.
“Yes, princesa,” he groans, holding your thighs spread wide, his eyes dark with lust as he watches himself pump into you. “Oh, fuck, I missed this pretty little pussy.”
You whimper, hands rolling into fists around the bed sheets, eyes fluttering shut. “Miguel!” you gasp, and he goes harder, faster, deeper. You swear you can feel him almost quite literally rearranging your guts.
He leans over you, pulling your legs over his shoulders and fucking you impossibly rougher. He holds onto the bed frame, your bed squeaking with every hard, borderline painful thrust. But it feels so good. It's just too good for you to want to stop.
He bites your neck, your shoulder, kisses your lips until they're swollen. He fucks you like an animal starved, going round after round even when you're on the verge of passing out.
And then he gives you one final orgasm before finishing himself, filling you up with his thick, hot load.
The next day, at breakfast, your mom sees the hickeys across your neck. “What's that?!” she gasps.
You exchange looks with Miguel who, much to your surprise, looks absolutely innocent—which he should definitely not.
This ends with you getting grounded, never mind the fact that you're twenty-two already.
Your mom leaves later to go grocery shopping and for a coffee with friends.
Miguel takes care of ensuring you learn your lesson.
Bent over the tabletop, pussy raw and soaked. You take pounding after pounding, his seed spilling into you again and again until you're seeing stars.
He tugs at your hair, forcing your back to arch. “You better make damn sure no one ever knows about any of this,” he warns. “Otherwise, I'll have to punish you, not only discipline you. And you don't want that, do you, princesa?”
Well. Honestly? Yes. You'd absolutely love it.
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littlejuicebox · 2 months
Text
You'll stay still, won't you, little love?
Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Reader/Tav
Summary/Setting: Sometime in the beginning of Act 3; you and Astarion are exploring intimacy/sex
Rating/Warnings: M+ / 18+ only please/ Smut with little to no plot / Light BDSM / Soft Dom Astarion vibes / Some mild in game spoilers / PiV / CW / fingering / teasing and overstim if you squint / not beta read or edited too much
Word Count: 2.2K
A/N: I'm a degenerate, idk what else to tell you guys. I’m shocked this came out of my brain, but here we are. Enjoy or be totally flabbergasted or avoid it entirely I don’t know about you all but I simultaneously want to do all three. 💀
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You suspected Astarion enjoyed exploring intimacy with you, perhaps more than he thought he would. The first few weeks after his confession at Moonrise Towers resulted in a rather chaste arrangement between the two of you. Days were filled with stolen pecks and occasional hand holding between missions; nights were spent mostly cuddling half-naked or sometimes simply making out.
When a situation became particularly heated, he would always break away, panting. The flush on his face and the thrumming of his undead heart told you he enjoyed these moments, and his erection pressing into you always became quite the distraction. 
Gods, how badly you wanted more. But you had to force yourself to pull back and allow him to take the lead, never pushing further than he was willing to give. 
For a few weeks, a bit of grinding and caressing above the waist was as far as Astarion would advance. But shortly after leaving the Shadowlands, something within the silver-haired elf changed. He’d become quite intent on exploring your body almost every night, putting his masterful fingers and tongue to work, almost desperate to watch you come undone.
“You don’t have to, Astarion,” You pant one evening, after a few weeks of nearly daily interactions quite similar to this one. The rogue was working his nimble fingers inside the edge of your small clothes, aiming to delve into your already soaking folds. The bulge of his cock, barely covered by his own underwear, pressed against your rear as he slowly rocked his hips into you.
“I know, my love,” He murmurs, removing his mouth from where it had been tenderly suckling your neck. The vampire licks along the fresh love bite, eliciting a little whimper of pleasure from you. And then he smirks as his fingers find the already engorged bundle of nerves between your legs, causing you to instinctively buck toward him with a whine, “But I want to. I quite like the pretty little sounds you make for me, you know.” 
He continues his ministrations for a few moments, reveling in your desperate keens. Nothing else stroked Astarion’s ego quite like this. 
“Darling, I’d like to try something different tonight, if you don’t mind.” He purrs as his fingers change their rhythm from the languid circles over your clit to gentle, teasing strokes between your folds. The rogue’s hand dips just enough to tease your entrance with two digits before he retracts again, leaving you mewling in frustration.
You need more. He knows it. And he aimed to give you more tonight, but he couldn’t resist the opportunity to toy with you for a moment or two.
“What is it, Astarion?” You ask breathlessly, as he pauses his movements entirely. You whine again and then turn your head to look at the rogue, where he is smirking down at you, clearly enjoying the desperation he’s elicited from his lover. You are caught between his cock and his hand, slowly rolling your hips back and forth, practically begging the silver-haired elf to fuck you with his fingers. 
“I want you to come on my cock tonight.” He responds, arching his eyebrow just slightly, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, “If that’s what you want, my sweet.” 
Your eyes widen in shock, and you swear you feel yourself grow more slick at the mere suggestion. You lick your lips, attempting to moderate your own excitement, trying to avoid making him feel obligated in any way. Astarion’s fingers have resumed their teasing movements, and the newly found wetness causes the vampire to chuckle in delight. 
“Judging by the slickness of your perfect little cunt, that certainly is what you want. Am I correct, love?” He purrs into your ear, fangs grazing against your lobe as he rolls his growing erection toward your ass once again.
“Y-yes,” You gasp, and as soon as you do, Astarion rips your underwear from your body before tossing the ruined undergarment across the tent. 
“Then you will get what you want on one condition, darling.” He continues, and you feel the engorged head of his cock stroking between your folds from behind. The sensation makes you shiver in delight; you desire nothing more than to have him buried inside you.
“What is it?” You ask, instinctively rolling your hips back against him again, moaning when his length rubs against your clit.
Astarion grabs your hip firmly, digging his nails into the side of your ass and ceasing your movements entirely. You whine and then he’s practically laughing in your ear, you can feel how entertained he is by your predicament. He places a tender kiss on your neck before he purrs, “You aren’t allowed to move one bit, sweet girl, or else I will pull out and leave you with nothing.”
You groan in dismay at this stipulation, “Astarion! I don’t- I don’t know if I can hold still.” 
“Oh but my love, the choices are simple,” He continues, his voice playfully condescending as his other hand wanders up to lightly tease a nipple, ripping another little moan from you, “You can either be filled by my cock or by my fingers. So which will it be?”
You whine as the male elf uses one hand to stimulate your breast and the other to barely plunge into your sex again.
“Your cock!” You cry, unable to contain yourself any further, “I want your cock.”
Astarion chuckles, quite content with this response. He slides his erection between your folds again, using your arousal to lubricate his length, “And you’ll stay still, won’t you, little love?”
“Yes, I won’t move,” You agree, and this earns you a delighted groan from the vampire. He reveled in the power dynamics of your coupling, and your willingness to surrender control in the bedroom.
“Good girl,” He coos, and then he’s pressing himself into the entrance of your sex. You moan as the head of his rock-hard cock stretches your cunt; there is a bit of resistance at first; it’s been several weeks since more than two fingers have been inside you, after all.
He takes you inch by inch, slowly dragging himself along your velvet walls. Before long, Astarion’s length has filled you completely, and you’re basking in the sensation of being stretched by your lover.
His breath is ragged behind you as he struggles to remain in control, almost entirely overcome with the desire to simply have his way with you. But that’s not the game tonight, he reminds himself. 
In one swift motion he’s rolled you both so that you are straddled over him, your back pressed to his chest. He uses his knees to spread your legs wide, fully opening you up for his seasoned hands to explore. His long fingers drag over your stomach and then travel down between your legs, where they easily find that sensitive nub.
“How does it feel to be sitting atop my cock, darling?” Astarion asks as he slowly, teasingly strokes his slender fingers up and down on your drenched folds. You are seeping arousal at this point, coating him with his well-deserved reward. His cock throbs at the thought.
“Wonderful,” You respond, honestly but breathlessly as you struggle to keep yourself from rolling your hips at all. Your legs are positively shaking with the effort to exert such control, and the little tremors running along your spine are urging the vampire on.
Astarion guides your own hand up to your breasts, where he urges you to tease your own nipple. He palms the flesh of the other breast in one hand as he continues to drag his nimble fingers around your throbbing bud.
You are instinctively clenching around him now, your body desperate to milk every ounce of seed from the vampire. Astarion himself is shaking with the amount of restraint it’s taking him to not lift his hips and fuck up into your warmth. 
You cannot restrain yourself any longer, your hips buck and you’re instantly rewarded with the delicious sensation of Astarion’s length running against your walls. But then a sharp, stinging smack singes the side of your ass, and a shocked gasp escapes your lips.
“What did I say, darling? Be a good girl and hold still. Try that again and I will pull out.” The rogue warns while speeding up his efforts on your clit.
You sharply pinch your own nipple, trying desperately to keep yourself from moving any more. But gods, how badly you want to. You’re so close. Your walls are clenching tighter and tighter, and the sensation is causing Astarion to grunt in response. He’s trying just as desperately to hold back as you quiver around him, tempting him to do the exact opposite.
His hips buck just once before he regains control and stills himself, but gods the walls of your tight pussy wrapped around him felt divine. The sharp thrust made you moan loudly in delight, and your entire body was shivering from the self-control you were using to hold still. He felt you standing on the precipice of pleasure, so close to the edge. You just needed a little push to fall into a world of ecstasy, and that, he could provide.
“Let go, little love. Come for me,” He whispers hoarsely, and the command sends you tumbling over the edge. You feel the wave crashing over you, rippling through your sex and up to your spine. You clasp your hand over your mouth as you whine, signaling your release.
You are mid-orgasm when Astarion roughly grabs both sides of your hips and hisses, “Fuck it.” 
And then he’s thrusting upwards, repeatedly burying himself inside you, intent on fucking you through the second half of your orgasm. You cry out in pleasure as the vampire moans into the side of your neck, continuing to piston himself into you as he chases his own release.
Once again, his fingers find their way to your over-sensitive clit and he’s working at it frantically, in the practiced motion he knows to be your favorite. You keen and try to clamp your legs shut; the sensation is almost too much. But Astarion growls and forces your legs open with his knees as he quickly brings you to the edge of another orgasm.
Your lover is panting with exertion as he holds back his own release. Through gritted teeth he urges you on, using the hand not playing with your clit to grab your hip and slam you down to meet his thrusts.
“One more, darling. You can do one more, can’t you? Let go, I’ve got you.” He coaxes, his voice near breathless but filled with gravel.
“Oh, fuck!” Is all you can respond as the second orgasm rips through you, stronger than the first. You’re seeing stars as your pussy throbs around Astarion’s shaft, rewarding his efforts with a deliciously tight grip and another gush of your delectable juices. The high-pitched, uninhibited whine that escapes you while you’re drowning in ecstasy is music to the rogue’s ears.
As your greedy cunt clenches around him again during that second wave of pleasure, Astarion emits a strangled moan of his own.
He buries his face in your neck as he soon struggles to buck forward, shakily dragging his sensitive, swollen length in and out of your walls just a few more times before he buries himself balls-deep. Thick ropes of his spend shoot up into your warmth as he groans, consumed by his own euphoria behind you. His cock continues to pulse for a few moments longer, urged on by the relentless spasming of your sex around him.
Both of you are heaving and shaking slightly once he finally relaxes his legs. You’re still laying atop him as he slowly roams his hands over your body, idly stroking your curves in soft, soothing motions.
“I thought you said we couldn’t move,” You finally say, voice completely hoarse from the cries of ecstasy you uttered moments ago.
“I said you couldn’t move, darling. I didn’t say anything about me.” The vampire responds with a self-satisfied smirk as he playfully nips at your earlobe, “Are you truly complaining that I did all the work?”
“No,” You respond, finally pulling yourself off of the vampire, releasing the slick combination of your respective arousals as it drips between the two of you. “But at some point I’d like it to be me making all that effort to bring pleasure to you.” 
He pulls you down beside him with a little hum. You pull the blanket over the two of you. No other words are exchanged as you drift to sleep, thoroughly exhausted by the events of the day and this satisfying but unexpected evening. Astarion watches you sleep, and for the first time he allows himself to acknowledge that he might also like to let you have a bit of control in the bedroom… perhaps next time.
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sociorafe · 3 months
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CAUGHT RED HANDED — jj.maybank
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pairing: jj maybank & fem!reader
summary: keeping your relationship a secret has been pretty easy so far, but when the both of you get carried away one day, it’s hard to defend yourselves when you get caught by fellow pogues.
warnings: making out, marking, dry humping
author’s note: requested by anon, thank you, i had fun writing this! also i just realised that my blog’s aesthetic is rafe and yet somehow i have more jj content lol. oh well. i hope you guys enjoy <3 feedback is appreciated!
taglist: @rafetopia @rvfecamerons @drudyslut @drewstarkeyslut
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“Y’know,” you mumble out breathlessly as JJ sucks on the soft skin of your neck. “They could come back any minute.”
You feel JJ smile into his wet kisses, your hands threading into his blonde hair, gently tugging at the roots when he sucks on your sweet spot. He grumbles against your neck.
“What?” You ask, eyes fluttering closed as his lips begin sucking and teeth nibbling. You’re 100% positive that he’ll leave marks and you’re not sure how you’ll explain it to the others. Bad mosquito bite? Maybe a bad reaction to some new lotion? Please, since when did you buy new lotion?
“Jay…” you shift in his lap, your barely covered core rubbing ever so lightly against his crotch. You can feel him through his cargo shorts… so, so, so big. “S-stop. You gotta-gotta stop. Jay, baby. I can’t have you mark me up.”
JJ pulls away with a pop! from your neck. His eyes sparkle as he stares at his handy-work. “And why not? I think I did a pretty good job.”
You roll your eyes, hands sliding out from his hair to rest behind his bare shoulders— his t-shirt thrown somewhere behind you. “You do realise who we’re friends with, right? They literally came up with ‘Pogues don’t mack on other Pogues’. We’re literally breaking that rule and you’re making it obvious.”
JJ hums in thought, “What they won’t know won’t hurt them.”
You suppose he’s right, but still… the others could be back at any moment. They only went out to get some beer and food— a twenty minute errand at the most.
The angel on your shoulder tells you to call it quits before you get caught, but the devil is speaking louder; a few more minutes won’t hurt, in fact, you’ll enjoy this moment a lot more if you kept going.
“Come on,” JJ slides his hands to your hips, gently squeezing the supple flesh as his fingers toy with the waistband of your lacy underwear. “They’ll be arguing over what food to buy anyway, we have plenty of time.”
And with that, it seems he’s convinced you to keep going.
JJ smiles up at you before capturing your lips against his. You turn your head slightly to deepen the kiss and a rogue moan echoes in your throat as you feel his cock twitch beneath you. It feels like torture not having him inside you, so the next best thing is to grind against him until your body feels like putty.
Your hips move slowly at first, feeling the thickness of him through his shorts drives you crazy and you open your mouth slightly to allow JJ to slide his tongue in. You drop a hand from his shoulder to trail down his chest and torso, your own stomach tensing when you feel the hard muscles underneath your fingertips.
JJ pulls away briefly, allowing the two of you to catch your breath; his lips turning red from the force of his kisses.
“Look at you, baby.” He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip as he watches you grind against his erection. It takes everything in him not to flip you over and make you cry out his name. “Could watch you all day—“
His words get cut off by a loud slam.
You stop your movements abruptly, heart hammering in your chest. “What was that?”
Another loud slam and muffled voices now reach your ears. “Fuck! They’re back!” You push off JJ in lightning speed, your head snapping in every direction to find your shorts. “Where the fuck are my shorts?!”
JJ scrambles up from the sofa, diving towards his strewn t-shirt lying on the floor near your feet. His eyes practically bulge out of his head as he tries and helps you find your shorts but for some fucking reason they’ve vanished.
“Now is not the time for things to go missing. Where are they?” You hiss at him. Your heart is beating erratically in your chest.
“I don’t know!” JJ is picking cushions up, books up, pieces of furniture and your shorts are still nowhere to be found. “Look, hey. Just sit on the sofa, put a pillow on your lap and pretend to look comfy. I’ll sit over here and just… sit.”
You freak out at his idea but drop down on the sofa when several footsteps sound from down the hall.
“Hey, we got so much food. Kie and John B didn’t know what to get so… uhhh what’s going on?” Pope looks between you and JJ, one hand on the back of the sofa as he studies the two of you.
Sarah moves into the room next, her eyes landing on your face before swivelling to JJ’s and squinting at his hair. “What’s up with your hair, JJ?”
JJ swipes at his hair until he thinks it looks normal again. It does not.
John B and Kie file in next, the bag of food drops from Kie’s hand and she tries not to laugh. Whereas John B is holding a box crate of beer and if he dares to drop it you know you’ll get the blame for causing a distraction.
“What the hell did you two do?” Kie always figures things out first. “And don’t lie. It’s obvious you two did something. Spill.”
You look over at JJ and he shakes his head. “Nothing. We were just talking the whole time you guys were out.”
You wince at his poor excuse but from the way Pope shrugs his shoulders you think you’ve gotten away with it.
“Yeah, I’m not buying that.” Sarah says, arms folding over her chest. “I mean, if you two were just talking, then why is JJ’s shirt inside out and Y/N, why are your shorts hanging off the back of the couch?”
“Oh.” Is all you have to say. Well. That’s that then. Relationship exposed or whatever.
“Yeah, I’m not dealing with this.” John B turns on his heels and walks back outside with the beer, Pope just nods and follows him. Kie and Sarah give each other a knowing look.
“Pogues don’t mack on other pogues, remember?” Kie says, her head tilting at you but her smile says she’s not even remotely bothered. “Just don’t do it on the sofa next time, we gotta sit there.”
You and JJ nod your heads so quickly you feel as if they’re going to fall off. You both watch Kie leave the room, Sarah trailing behind so slowly but stops just before she’s out of sight. She leans against the wall and points to your neck, “Nice work, JJ, but Y/N you got to cover that up.” Her voice is soft, low, almost as if she doesn’t want the others hearing so you don’t get even more embarrassed. “I’ve got some makeup in John B’s room, use some of that.”
You nod your head, mouthing thank you. Once she’s gone back outside, you stand from the sofa and make your way over to JJ. You slap him on the back of his head. “Ow! What was that for?” He’s rubbing the spot you hit him on.
You stalk out of the room. “That’s for marking me up, dingbat.”
“I love you, though!” He calls from the living room.
“Yeah whatever.” You shout back from John B’s room. “I love you, too.”
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Copyright to @sociorafe 2023.
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yawnderu · 5 months
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Lorelei — Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader | Part I
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Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.
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''So you're just goin' to sit there and tell me that isn't my daughter.'' Simon says bluntly, tone even yet carrying a snark hidden that you came to listen so many times after working with him— never once directed at you until now.
''It's really none of your business, Ghost.'' You don't even spare a glance at him, simply looking at your little girl, fingers gently running through her short hair. She looks exactly like Simon, though that will never take away your love for her.
''You're not denyin' it.'' He hesitantly sits down next to you, secretly afraid you'll bite his head off. The glare you shoot his way is enough confirmation that you would if you could. You sigh softly, the air leaving your lungs before being sucked back in, not wanting to argue in front of your little girl despite her not understanding words yet.
''Well, what's it to you? Why do you need to know?'' I can't handle you leaving me again.
''Don't be like that.'' His tone is soft, almost pleading. It has been over a year since he broke up with you, yet that doesn't make the loss any easier, not now that he knows he has a daughter, no matter how much you tried to hide it from him.
''Why didn't you tell me?'' He asks gently, feeling like he's walking on eggshells. It's the first time ever he feels that way with you, and he doesn't blame you in the slightest. It takes a few seconds of you thinking before you answer.
''I was terrified of you choosing to walk away from her... to be a deadbeat. I didn't want to have that image of you, because that would have hurt more than the break up.'' Your voice is more calm, though for all the wrong reasons. The familiar tingling all over your nose is back, eyes stinging as you try to hold back tears, too prideful to cry in front of him again.
''That's what you think o' me?'' He replies in nothing but pure disbelief and slight disgust. He would never walk away from his child, no matter how much that would destroy all the walls he has been building for years, stones upon stones carefully piled on top of each other, so strong nothing could ever break through— until you came along.
''I was fucking scared, okay?'' You look away and wipe your eyes with one hand, the other one carefully supporting the neck of the baby on your lap. Simon sighs, his bare hand hesitantly reaching down to trace the features of the tiny girl, being careful with her as if she would break if he applied any pressure. He notices your eyes glued to his hand, eyebrows furrowed. He's about to move his hand away until you adjust the little girl so he can touch her face without the awkward angle.
''Give me one more chance. Please— please, let me be a father to her.'' Simon never begged for anything, not even when he was tortured for months to no end, drugged, beaten like a dog, yet here he is; begging his ex for a chance to keep the girl in his life. You don't reply.
''I'll do everything I can. What I should've done. I want to be here, please.'' He was so damn ready to get on his knees and beg if that's what it took for you to let him be involved in her life. He's not asking you to be together— he knows he doesn't deserve that chance.
''She's looking at you like she knows you.'' Your response is ominous to say the least. You want to deny him, to tell him he doesn't even deserve to be able to touch the little girl you birthed alone, that he doesn't deserve the chance at a family after he destroyed 4 years of a relationship because of the very same thing, but... your little girl is looking up at him with pure admiration and curiosity in her big brown eyes, her tiny hand struggling to hold one of his fingers. Growing up with a single parent yourself, you know she deserves better, and you're willing to put your pride and pain aside to make sure she gets the world.
''Okay.'' You reply after taking a deep breath, holding it into your lungs for what feels like forever, choosing to ignore the strong arms wrapping around you, bringing all three of you close. It feels... right.
[NEXT]
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l13 · 8 months
Note
Ok, so, what about the 141 and König reacting to their s/o not feeling confident abt taking their shirt off during seggs because they are chubby and feel embarrassed about their belly?
Also not feeling confident with getting touched around that area while sleeping/seggs/daily life.
first of all i'm so so so sO SORRY that this took so fucking long (this ask is literally from february 😭) i had this in my drafts for fucking ever and just now found the inspo to finish it:(((((
CHARACTERS : price, ghost, soap, könig
WARNINGS : NSFW, MDNI, female!reader, this is for all my thick girlies <3, talk of body image, insecurities, descriptive mentions of sex, fluff, supportive bfs, not proofread
WORD COUNT: 2,8k
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john price
he's a confused puppy when you first push his hand away from your belly while you guys were cuddling and he rushes to apologize, before noticing how you avoid his gaze nervously and he decides to hold his tongue.
Did he make you uncomfortable? Was it the way he touched you? He got so embarrassed that his ears turned red, deciding to not speak at all.
few days after that he startles you by hugging you from behind, caging you in his arms tightly, and pulling your body flush to his, humming lowly as he pressed kisses to the side of your neck. You try really hard to not look at him as you squirm away from his prying hands, choking out a lame excuse and bolting the other way.
Now he was confused and concerned. He surely fucked up somehow.
This man is so touch starved that it's painful. You don't understand how physical Price is, he needs to hold you, touch and kiss you. He needs to feel close to you and if that gets taken away from him he can't function fr
"Love, if there's summat bothering you... if I made you uncomfortable in any way, I'm-" you cut Price off with furrowed eyebrows, taking his hands in yours and he inhales sharply when you squeeze his hands slightly "No-what? John, what are you talking about?"
There's frustration piling up, and he clenches his jaw looking down at your hands holding his, tenderly. He missed your touch so much. "M gonna be really blunt with ya love, cause I'm hangin' by a thread here.." you lean closer to him as you nod, and he swallows harshly.
"Why.. why don't you let me touch you anymore?" John almost whines, and you gape at him, suddenly at a loss of words. "Tell me what I did wrong and I'll fix it, please just talk to me honey" he brings his hand up to cup your cheek, and you almost burst into tears as you catch the redness in his pretty blue eyes.
God, you felt terrible. Yes, you were avoiding Price, but it wasn't his fault at all. The fact that by giving him the cold shoulder because you weren't feeling too good about yourself, brought his own insecurities to the surface made your heart fall to the pit of your stomach.
"You did nothing wrong baby, I'm sorry. I haven't been feeling very.. confident in my skin lately." you said and looked down at the top of your shoes, shifting on your feet nervously. You didn't have to look at Price to know that he was looking at you with those puppy eyes of his.
"Love... I have no words.. I- why?"
Your eyebrows twitched. Why?
His hand came up to grab at your chin softly, nudging it up so you'd look at him. You felt that familiar stinging in your eyes and you blinked away the tears, clearing your throat hurriedly.
His question made your mind go blank. Why the fuck did you feel that way? "I- I don't know... I'm sorry."
"Hey, no honey, don't apologize," he cooed, nudging your temple with his cheek as he lays a kiss against your hair. "Never apologize for what you feel, ya hear?" you smile despite yourself, and nod slightly, wrapping your hands around his middle and burying your face in his neck, his hands in turn coming to rest on your waist softly.
"M just having trouble wrapping my head 'round it 'cause you're God damn perfect, honey. It breaks me that you doubt that." if John can hear how fast your heart's beating he doesn't say anything. He's too busy blinking away his own tears.
Listening to him mutter praises and sweet nothings against your ear made you realize that you should have talked to him about this earlier- cause you'd have experienced price absolutely WORSHIPPING you much much sooner<3
(sorry if this is too sappy)
simon 'ghost' riley
ghost is someone who's fighting his own demons, and that doesn't change when you guys start a relationship together
so whether you're just now starting dating and you're avoiding being touched while hugging/cuddling/sex or if you'd been in a relationship for quite some time and you suddenly change how you act with him because of that- he'll blame himself.
you best belieeeve he'll think there's something wrong with him, that somehow he did something and you finally realized that maybe he's not good enough for you- that you deserve better (yeah his whole fuckin' list of insecurities come up bro)
Everytime you'd reject his advances, even for something as small as a hug, he felt as if someone threw ice cold water down his back
so after a while he'd just stop trying fr
he'd avoid you in turn, become distant and cold
that understandably made you very upset
so now you're BOTH SAD
It was sheer luck that you managed to catch Simon just as he was leaving the kitchen, and you felt relief wash over you as you spotted him washing his mug, ready to put it away. His name left your lips before you realized it, but it went unnoticed apparently. You clenched your jaw as you watched him walk to the door, and you quickly realized that you were at your breaking point.
"Could you just wait a fucking second?"
His broad shoulders tensed as he stopped, throwing a look over his shoulder "Huh?" "Why have you been avoiding me?"
"Excuse me?!" Simon huffed out a dry laugh, whirling around to look at you, his brows drawn together. Guess he wasn't coping well either. "Why have I been avo- are you fucking kidding me?"
You shrugged, "Yeah maybe 'avoiding' isn't the right word. 'Ignoring' or acting like I'm fucking dead maybe? You planning to kill me or something? Practicing your acting skills beforehand?"
Okay yeah you were exaggerating, but who could blame you? Your boyfriend suddenly starts acting like you don't exist, what else are you supposed to think?
Ghost snarls, and strides over to you, pointing his finger at you accusingly, "Listen- if you don't want to be with me anymore, just fucking say that. Don't ignore me for weeks, and then turn that shit on me. Just say we're done and be over with it."
What the fuck?
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
He groans, hand coming up to rub at the back of his head nervously "Don't act so clueless as if you haven't rejected me each time I came even remotely close to touching you- If you're so disgusted by me, then maybe don't ask me out in the first place."
"What? No, Simon-"
"Don't. I get it."
"No, you don't get it I...fuck. Okay, yes i've been avoiding you but not because I'm disgusted by you, don't ever say that again. I've just been.. embarassed, I guess."
Now it was his turn to look at you like you've gone insane, "What for?"
"..I don't know, I mean I.. I can't help but compare myself to you- you're so.. muscle-y, and I'm just.."
"You're just what." you shiver at his authorative tone, avoiding his gaze at all costs.
"I'm.." you trail off, your hands instinctively circling around your torso, and his eyes drop down to follow the movement, his eyebrows furrowing, eyes darkening, "Y'know what nevermind. I'm sorry I've been acti-"
You snap your eyes up at the sound of his loud steps, thinking that he left the room, only to find that he was standing right in front of you, one hand coming up to caress your cheek while the other falls atop your forearm. "You scared me. I thought I lost you and you were just being dumb this whole time?"
You gape at him, slightly offended by his choice of words, "Hey-"
"You're stunning." your breath hitches at his whisper, looking up at him reluctantly, almost bursting to tears at the way he's looking at you-
"Beautiful. Prettiest woman I've ever laid my eyes on, you hear?" his other hand comes up to rest on your other cheek, cradling your face in his palms, squishing them that you're almost pouting from it-
He nudges his nose against your own, thumb tapping your bottom lip once, "Did you hear what I said?"
You swallow harshly, unable to look away from his pretty eyes, "Yes,"
"Good. You're everything to me."
johnny 'soap' mactavish
he is downright offended when he finds out let me tell you
even after how he hypes you up daily? GURL GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER YOU'RE PERFECT AS FU- okay yeah he can't yell you THAT but, he sure as hell will drill it into your brain if he has to
soap never shies away from any physical contact he can give you, whatever the time or place. he will slap, squeeze and grope to his heart's content, he's quick with it of course (don't wanna get caught now, do we?)
okay I'm getting off topic
the first and second time you had sex together, it was quick and rushed, he'd pulled you to the side and fucked you open against a wall, clothes on and all.
the third time he makes sure he treats you right, meaning he makes sure there's a bed involved LMFAO
so imagine his surprise when he turns around, butt ass naked in his room and ready to tackle you on the bed, to see that you were still wearing your shirt on.
...okay?
he's confused but doesn't question you, he thinks he'll just rip it off of you later himself
he shrugs it off like a champ, and strides over to you with a shit eating grin, walking you backwards till you fall on the bed with a soft thud. You smile back at him, but not fully. Not really. That makes his eye twitch. Something was off.
five minutes later he's holding himself upright with a palm beside your head, swallowing dryly as he stares at you with an open mouth and hazy eyes, thrusting inside of you with no promise to stop.
his eyes drop lower, and he catches sight of your nipples poking through your cotton shirt and he groans- sliding his hand under the material to bring it over your breasts and you tense suddenly, pushing his chest till he's shoved to the side, and he watches with wide eyes and a hard cock as you scramble to pull your shirt in place, chest heaving when you steal a nervous glance at him
"I-I'm sorry, can I keep this on?" your voice almost breaks when you speak and Soap is really fucking confused. "Are you cold?" his question catches you off guard and you look at him as if he's grown a second head, closing your eyes shut as he continues to speak, "I can close the window-"
"I'm not cold."
"Ah."
.
.
"Then...?" Johnny trails off and you let out a defeated sigh, "I don't want you to see me." he blinks at your hiss and you bring your knees up, hugging them close to your chest and he thinks he deserves an award for not even glancing at what he knows would be the perfect view of your glistening pussy- Get your fucking act together Johnny, ya fuckin' prick.
Soap seems to be deep in thought for a couple of seconds before his mouth parts in realization. He internally curses himself for even going there, but when he sees you shrinking to yourself, clutching your legs tighter against you, he feels sick. There's no fucking way you felt that way.
"You gotta be joking, hen." his whisper was almost pleading and you felt your chin wobble slightly and he tuts, scooting closer to you to lay a hand on your shoulder, "You can't possibly not know how perfect you are." you scoff out a laugh as you shake your head.
"I'm serious. I can't even begin to imagine why you'd even feel that way. What the fuck do you have to hide? Your stunning beauty? C'mon now." he tilts his head to try and catch your gaze but you avoid him like the plague and he shakes your shoulder back and forth playfully, successfully pulling a small laugh out of you. He decides to ignore the few stray tears that fall down your cheeks to stop his heart from breaking.
He cups your cheek softly and tilts your head up, finally making you look at him "Did someone say something? I need a target to practice on anyway-" you shake your head softly as you sniff and he licks his lips as he drops his forehead on yours,
"You trust me, right?" you nod instantly, and he mutters an okay, "And you know I'd never lie to you?" you hesitate, but nod regardless and he presses a kiss to your wet cheek, "Show me,"
You inhale sharply, and you're shivering before you even realize that you've taken your shirt off- your hands coming up to shield your breasts, as if you're not naked from the waist-down.
A chill runs down your spine as you wait, and when you hear Soap let out a shuddering breath your gaze snaps up to him. You're surprised to see the utter adoration in his eyes- looking at you as if you'd hanged the moon and stars.
His fingers shake slightly when his hands come to rest on top of yours, his eyes holding an unspoken question. Can I?
You swallow dryly, bringing your hands up to your face instead, hiding your flushed cheeks in the safety of your palms.
"Ah quit your theatrics ya fuckin' minx. Look at you." Soap hisses, his voice suddenly dropping an octave. You hear him mutter a curse, and feel him run his hands all over you- your belly, your sides, your tits-
You yelp when he pushes you flat against the sheets, and you grab at his hair when he starts to press kisses on your lower belly, "Johnny-" he groans, biting at your plush flesh, hands kneading your sides in appreciation, savoring. "You're so fuckin' beautiful- jesus fuckin' christ,"
yeah he made you feel better alright.
könig
like ghost he's a bit insecure himself. has his own issues and doubts about himself so he gets it
but still can't believe that YOU feel that way
like you and your perfect self? he gets so frustrated that he wants to punch something
how DARE you think you're not perfect, how dare you.
once he finds out how you feel he makes it his mission in life to spoil you rotten, and make you realize how incredible you are
this makes me think back to that other ask I got about him fingering you while making you look at yourself in the mirror- booooyyy
HE WOULD IN THIS SCENARIO AS WELL, I JUST KNOW IT.
he'd be so angry at you for not loving yourself LMFAOOO HE'D BE POUTING I SWEAR
man turns FERAL, it's the most dominant you've ever seen him-
he'd make you see yourself how he sees you, if it's the last thing he ever did
"Don't you dare look away, liebling," you squirm in König's hold, his hand holding your jaw, making sure you won't miss a thing as he runs his other hand aaaall over your middle, squeezing the plump flesh in his hands as he goes.
You watch Konig's face in the mirror, speechless at how dazed he looked, half-lidded eyes trailing all over your naked form- drinking in all your curves hungrily. He groans lowly, his eyes almost rolling back when he squeezes your supple skin "I can't... how can you look this good and not know it?"
"König-" you go to turn your face in order to look at him, but his hand tightens against your jaw, making you whimper and keep your head in place, "No. Look away and you'll regret it. Now, repeat what I said earlier-"
"But-"
"I won't ask again, liebling."
You give the tiniest moan when his hand snakes in between your legs, his palm cupping your pussy, nd you grind down at it needily "I-I'm beautiful.."
He hums, "And..?" his fingers gather up your slick to circle up your clit, drawing three, four tight circles on the nub before he's sliding them down again, slipping two fingers inside your pussy, thrusting them lazily in and out of your drenched cunt.
You mewl, circling your hips against the palm of his hand, loving the way it nudged your clit the slightest bit, "Jesus christ.. and g-gorgeous.."
"Mhm that's right, my love. Doubt that again and I'll make sure you won't be able to walk for a week, yeah?" he smiles at your reflection, and it would have been so innocent and almost shy if it weren't for the devious glint in his eyes.
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2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.
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greatooglymooglyyy · 25 days
Note
Okay hcs for how Matt and Chris act with their S.O. in public pretty please???
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In Public (M&C Sturniolo)
a/n: two in one day? iktr. send me more hcs. im obsessed. kept it cuteeeee, one little suggestive comment
Matthew:
-okay so we all know matt is not the pda type and i don't think that will ever change. but i think he'd be the type to always need an eye on you. big on checking in when you're in a group setting and making sure you're good.
-i feel like if you did that thing where you stop walking and see if your boyfriend notices or leaves you, he's turning around after like 3 steps and looking at you like you're crazy.
-in big crowds of people though, he's definitely reaching for you. holding your hand or making you walk in front of him and putting a hand on your back.
-at a group dinner, he will keep a hand on yours across the table or an arm over your chair or lightly on your shoulder.
-if you're shopping together, he's waiting outside the dressing room on the bench for you to give him a fashion show. loves when you run over and asks for his opinion and thinks it's the cutest thing ever.
-i can just imagine the crazy death stare he would give you when you try to swipe your card when he's there. you are embarrassing him, back the hell up.
-always wants to be close to you even if he's not touching you. the type to grab your chair and slide it closer to him.
-at family gatherings he sticks even closer, knowing you're probably nervous. holds your hand as he introduces you to people and pulls you away for breathers if you need it.
-but if you are leaving from a group hangout or something, he'd definitely walk to your car and kiss you. and turn bright red if his brothers see you and start gagging.
Christopher:
-now chris... doesn't give a single fuck... to an extent. like i know he said he'd make out with his girlfriend in a group but i don't think he'd want to make people uncomfortable so he wouldn't do too much.
-but he's the type to need hands on you constantly. if you guys are walking somewhere, he's grabbing your hand or hooking an arm around your neck. on a roadtrip? he's absolutely reaching back for your hand. sitting around a fire or a pool? he's pulling you into his lap for sure.
- at a family gathering, he's yanking you from person to person to show you off and introduce you. but if you are fidgeting or nervous, he'd notice and make some excuse to give you a break.
-always introduces you as his girl with a huge goofy smile.
-won't make out with you in public but definitely not shy about kissing you lightly. especially if it's just a few friends around. doesn't care at all about their teasing either and will just flip them off.
-at dinner, he already knows what time it is. just slides his plate over to pay the girlfriend tax before you can even ask for some.
-he's coming inside the dressing room with you and giving opinions in real time. and if you look a little too good in something he's definitely pulling you to him for a kiss.... or more.
-unfortunately, my boy is an airhead. so if you stop walking with him, he's definitely in Timbuktu by the time he notices. but would definitely sprint back, feeling horrible.
-loves watching you interact with his friends and family. it makes his heart so happy. so he'll just watch with a stupid grin on his face
"what are you staring at?"
"i just love you is all."
taglist:
@sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer
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c0eu4 · 4 months
Note
Charles speaking dirty in french🤭🤭🤭🤭
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CL16 | Dirty boy ♡
Summary: Y/n keeps bothering her boyfriend until he gives in and shows her how to be a good girl.
Warning: dirty talk, smut, no protect sex, dom!Charles, sub!reader, mean!Charles, handcuffs, a bit of hitting (soft)
A/N: enjoy<3
Translation: mon amour= my love | Chéri.e= darling
MASTERLIST requests are open
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She sits on his lap, her hand passing through his brown hair. ''Mon amour, I'm trying to work.'' If there are two things that the young woman loves, it's annoying her boyfriend when he's trying to work and his horribly sexy French accent.
She kisses his cheek, her other hand running over his abs through his t-shirt. He feels a shiver down his spine, but doesn't give in to temptation. ''Chérie, please.''
She doesn't listen to him and kiss the crook of his neck, nibbing it softly. His hand found its way to her waist, rubbing it softly. ''Don't you want to take a break?'' She let her hand go under his t-shirt, using her fingerstip to touch his abs.
He sighs, from pleasure? Annoying? She does not know but she doesn't care. Her hand under his t-shirt keeps going up, her mouth continuing to stimulate his neck by leaving a few red marks and lovebites.
He didn't push her away, trying to focus on the computer screen in front of him. He begins to feel tight in his pants, her ass wiggling against him and her fingertips tracing the vertical line of his abs.
His hand which was on her waist goes down to caress her ass, squeezing it softly. ''T'as envie que je te baise hein?'' you want me to fuck you, huh?
She doesn't understand what he said but can't help and moan softly against his soft skin. He grabs her jaw and forces her head up to kiss her. She moans into the kiss and Charles takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, caressing the inside of her cheeks.
She removes his headphone and places it on the desk, running her hand through his hair. He picks her up and moves her into the bedroom, dropping her on the bed. ''Qu'est ce que je vais faire de toi?'' What am I going to do with you?
She feels the excitement build even more in her body, his accent completely turning her brain. ''Tu es si irrésistible..'' You're so irresistible.
He removes his t-shirt, finally revealing his abs that she loves to caress so much. ''Take off all of your clothes.'' His voice was firm yet sweet. She listens to him and takes off her clothes, revealing her underwear to him. ''I said all of your clothes.'' She can't help but blush, even though Charles has seen her naked so many times.
She takes off her last clothes and watches him rummage through the drawer of his nightstand.
''Is it ok if I tie your wrist to the bed?'' She bit her lower lips. ''Yes. You can do whatever you want with me, my love.''
Charles smirks, taking off two handcuffs from the drawer, deftly tying one end around one of her wrist, securing it to the headboard. He repeated this process with her other wrist, leaving her bound and vulnerable in front of him.
He takes his time to take off his pants and joins her in bed, getting on top of her and one of his hands already trailing between her thighs. ''Je parie que tu es toute mouillée, mh?'' I bet you're soaking, mh?
She whines, wanting him to touch her. ''Please.. Charlie..'' He chuckles, his cold hand touching her inner thighs. She can't help but move her hips to try and show him her impatience. His fingers move up slowly and he slides one finger between her wet folds. ''Toute mouillée et rien que pour moi.'' All wet and only for me.
She closes her eyes, trying to move her hands but can't. Her head fell back against the pillow with a long moan of his name when she felt his lips against her bundle of nerves.
She can't help but squirm with pleasure as he continues to stimulate her with his tongue. And just as she was about to cum, Charles suddenly stopped and moved his kisses back to her stomach.
''What the hell Charles!'' she shouted, frustrated. He laughs, kissing her ribs. His laugh is deep and dark, almost frightening.
He rubs himself against her wet fold, making her moan deeply. He can feel the wet through his boxer and it turns him so much on. ''Putain Y/n tu vas me faire jouir juste parce que t'es autant mouillée.'' Damn Y/n you're gonna make me cum just because of your wetness.
''Charles..I need you!'' She whines, shaking violently under him. He doesn't wait longer and takes off his boxer and thrust roughly into her tight and wet cunt.
''Merde.. t'es si serré..'' shit.. you're so tight..
He doesn't wait any longer to almost pull out and go back in roughly.
''Tu la prends si bien.'' You take it so well.
If he keeps talking like that, she'll probably cum faster than expected.
''Oh oui, t'es si bonne.. ma pute..'' Oh yes, you're so good.. my whore..
''Ch-Charles!'' She moaned loudly before cumming hardly around his cock. Charles takes it upon himself and holds back from cumming as he feels her walls tightening around his cock. He speeds up his movements, his hips hitting hers with a sensual sound of flesh smacking and a wet sound.
His hand hits the side of her thigh. ''Dit moi que tu m'appartient.'' Tell me you're mine.
She doesn't understand what he says and moans loudly, not having time to recover from her orgasm.
Charles hit her thigh a second time, this time leaving a red mark of his hand. ''Dit moi que you're mine!''
Her back arches a second time, her eyes filling with tears. ''I-I'm yours !'' He moaned loudly, but kept holding himself. ''En Français.'' in French.
The feeling is almost unbreathable and she can barely find her breath. ''Je..J-je appartiens.'' She managed to moan, with her sensual English accent.
''Putain oui..Bonne fille.. Mon jouet baisable préféré..'' Fuck yes.. good girl.. my favorite fucktoy..
Charles redoubles his efforts, showing his breathing and dumbbell physique in his thrusts. The room is filled with their moans. One of Charles' hands finds its way between her legs, playing with her clit.
She doesn't wait any longer to come brutally a second time, tears leave her eyes to roll down her cheeks.
''Oh oui.. serre moi fort..'' Oh yes.. tight me hard..
Charles continues to thrust inside her until he reaches his own climax, his hot seed feeling her up perfectly.
''Ah! Putain! Y/n! T'es trop bonne!'' Ah! Fuck! Y/n! You're too good!
He crashes into her, still being careful not to hurt her. After a few minutes of catching their breath, he pulls out of her with a wet noise and one last moan leaves her lips.
He unties her hands, massaging her wrist to relieve it. ''Ça va, mon chat?'' All good, my cat?
She turns around and hugs him tightly, nuzzling her head into his neck. ''That was great. As usual.''
He can't help but smirk, his hands rubbing her back. ''Je sais que t'aime bien quand je suis méchant avec toi..'' I know you like it when I'm mean with you..
One of his hand goes lower and gently strokes her red thigh. She kisses his neck, already nibbing on it again.
''Ready for round two?''
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tetzoro · 4 months
Text
GOOD MORNING, INDEED — ༉‧₊˚.
ft. nanami kento !
꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : after a long night, nanami loves nothing more than to laze around with you all morning.
꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader. established relationship, cockwarming, unprotected sex, praise, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, nanami gets a teensy feral, creampie — WC : 1.6k
꒰ NOTES ꒱ : kind of a part two to this fic but you don’t need to read that to read this ! woke up this morning and i needed to write this out so please enjoy <3 this is real and canon btw ᰔ
reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.゚
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the morning sun started to peek past the curtains and into the room, showering everything in soft golden hues, rousing the world to rise with it. nanami’s hold on you tightened, naked bodies pressed together as he refused to let go.
you could feel him twitch inside of you, his cock still nestled deep between your legs from the night before. you unceremoniously clench around him just thinking about how he had come home last night, all desperate and needy for your touch.
but he owes you — promised he’d fuck you first thing in the morning. his gentle snores quieted a while ago and you could tell he was awake, perfectly content just holding you in his arms on this lazy day.
but you need more, his greedy girl, as he likes to say. you slowly move your hips back against his, searching for some sort of friction from your lover. 
the arms he had wrapped around you tightened, involuntarily shoving himself deeper inside of you, chasing your heavenly warmth.
“don’t start something you can't finish.” he rumbles, the deep sound of his morning voice curling around your ears. you almost gulp, thighs rubbing together as he remains stagnant in your hold, cock all snug within your warm walls.
“i can handle it.” you breathe out. “been waiting for you all night, please ken.”
“alright,” he chuckles lightly, peppering a kiss on the back of your head as he adjusts himself. his arms move from where they were nestled around your stomach and cage you in his hold instead, keeping your back flush against his chest. “anything for you, my love.”
with that, he snaps his hips against yours, your eyes flying open at the sudden pleasure. an elongated moan slipped past your lips, the sound only spurring him on more as he began a steady pace.
“hated being out so late last night.” nanami starts talking, the sound of your sopping cunt taking him repeatedly fills the room. “just wanted to be with you, tucked away in our room.”
“wanted to —aah — wanted that too, ken.” you gasp out, his cock driving into you faster, lodging itself up against your cervix, kissing it with each thrust. 
“you’re so good to me.” he groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck, kissing down along the back of your shoulders. “taking me so well. makes me want to quit my job and just stay here with you all day.”
you clamp down on him at his words, wanting nothing more than nanami to quit his sorcerer life, running away with you for a life of pleasure and luxury — the very thing he deserves.
“oh, you like that idea, do you?” he breathlessly chuckles, driving into you harder. whatever mission he was on had taken a toll, one that you knew had him on the cusp of his breaking point. 
“mhm, yes!” you mewl out, trying to meet his thrusts as your high nears. “want you to run away with me.”
“tempting.” he says simply, but his body betrays him — cock pulsing deep within you, screaming for your little shared dream to become a reality. he could see it now, the two of you lounging on the beach, soaking up each others company without a care in the world, far removed from any danger or devastation. “very tempting.”
“please, ken.” you whine, not sure if you were begging for release or for him to go through with leaving the jujutsu world, but you settle on both. in response, his hand moves down your sides, kneading your flesh on his way to your neglected nub, deft fingers quickly encircling it.
your body jolts, pleasure numbing your mind to only focus on him. kento. kento. kento. his name a mantra filling every thought in your head, so full that it slips from between your lips and into the morning air.
“i’ve got you.” he murmurs in your ear before kissing along side it. “let go f’me. always look so pretty when you do.”
with a sweet cry of his name, you clench around him so tightly, a vice like grip hugging and squeezing his cock as you cum, your arousal pooling on the sheets below.
“you’re so perfect, all for me.” his pace drastically slows down, the drag of his cock along your quivering walls had him holding you tighter, getting as close as possible.
nanami takes his time mouthing at your neck, savoring the taste of you as he languidly thrusts his hips. the amount of self control he had was admirable, making sure you came down from your high all safe and sound.
but he had ulterior motives, waiting for you to catch your breath just so he can steal it all over again. as soon as you got a little too comfortable, he snapped his hips back against yours, relishing in your little mewl of surprise.
“didn’t i warn you not to start something you can’t finish?” his warm breath fans your ear.
you hold onto the one arm that remains wrapped around you, clutching onto it as if it’ll protect you from his own vicious thrust. frustrations from the night before ooze out of him — taking it all out on you. 
the way he’s thrusting is nothing short of primal, grunts flowing from his mouth as he takes you the way he wanted to last night if he wasn’t so damn tired. working overtime cut into the time he could be sharing with you, the one that makes his world go round.
“you’re intoxicating.” his voice filled with need as he feels his abdomen tighten, ready to give you every piece of him. “taking me so well, like you were made f’me.”
“we were made for each other.” you hiccup out, trying to keep up with his pace. the coil inside of you was winding up again, pleasure pooling in your gut as you were going to tumble over the edge. your admission has him snapping his hips further into you, unable to hold back any longer. whenever nanami got like this, all you could do was lay there and take it. 
“yes we were.” he pants out, clutching onto you tighter as he loses himself in you. “gonna cum with me?”
“yes! s’close.” you mewl, nanami moving his fingers back to your nub to help push you over the edge. you squeeze around him, ready to milk his cock dry as you twitch under his hold, the pleasure violently consuming you. 
your thighs tremble as the steady pace he had earlier twists into something hurried, erratic. sweet groans of your name drip from his lips into your skin as they press against your shoulder. 
he buries himself within you, hips bucking against the swell of your ass as he cums inside of you, slowly fucking it deeper as you both come down from your high. after a moment, you blink away the pleasurable haze that was settling in your mind, the sound of nanami’s voice bringing you back to him.
“there she is.” nanami says, easily turning you around so you're facing him now. he affectionately caresses your face, eyes filled to the brim with love and adoration for you. 
seeing nanami kento like this was truly a sight to behold, your lips twitching upward knowing you’re the only one that’ll get to see him like this — the walls around his heart all knocked down as he takes your hand and lets you in.
“here i am.” you answer meekly, still trying to catch your breath. you gaze up at him with wide eyes, lashes fluttering softly, one of his weaknesses. the question sat at the tip of your tongue, screaming to be like out yet nothing came out. but like always, he had a knack for reading you all too well.
“you want to know if i was serious, don’t you?” he asks, voice somber. you’d do anything to pack your bags with him now, taking the first flight out of here. but you never wanted to push. after what felt like the longest moment in the world, he answers. “i was going to wait until we were engaged, but yes. i’d love nothing more than to run away with you, leave all of this behind. you’re the only one i want to devote myself to.” 
your smile melts a core part of him, your arms clutching onto him like if you didn’t, he’d float away. but in reality, you were always the very thing to keep him grounded.
“so, when do we leave?” you kiss his face, pressing your lips against every inch of his skin before capturing his lips with yours. the two of you get lost in the kiss, languidly moving against each other like you had all the time in the world. and maybe now you do. the question still swirls around in both of your hands and in a snap, he makes his decision. the ring that was tucked away in his dresser was about to make it’s debut later today, and he couldn’t help give you another kiss in anticipation.
“no time like the present, right?” he said with a smile that sealed both of your fates. “but first, let me make you some breakfast.”
“wait!” you grab onto him before he gets up. he looks down at you in slight confusion before it melts away once your lips press against his once again. “good morning.”
“good morning, indeed.” he says as he pulls away, wrapping you up in the blanket before he moves to the kitchen – ready to start the morning that will define the rest of your lives together.
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endlessthxxghts · 2 months
Text
Breakfast
Husband!Joel Miller (no outbreak) x afab!Reader
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Summary: Your usual Saturday morning routine with your husband takes a turn, for the better. W/C: supposed to be 1k as per my celebration rules, but... it is now 2k... Oops... I’m sure y’all don’t mind😚. 18+ MDNI: Implied age gap (8 years per request hehe<3). Feminine pet names. Oral sex (reader recieving). Implied domesticity kink. Slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms. Soft Dom!Joel. Dom/sub undertones. Joel being a check-in king (safe word system in action, we love good communication). P in V unprotected. Breeding kink (y'all should expect this from me from now on LOL). ONE (1) USE OF "DADDY" (I had to, I'm not sorry). Sweet sweet aftercare.
A/N: This is in response to this request made by @survivingandenduring for my 1k follower milestone celebration. I remember you being one of the first to accompany me on my journey, and now that we're here together celebrating something I'm so humbly honored to experience, it feels so surreal. I love and appreciate your existence so so very much. Thank you.💚 I hope y'all enjoy!! (Pics for aesthetic purposes only)
MASTERLIST || L'S 1K CELEBRATION
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Saturday mornings are your favorite. They’re lazy. They’re warm. They’re spent wrapped completely in the arms of your husband, Joel Miller. Whether it’s your lips or your limbs tangled in between the sheets—Saturday mornings are for you and him. 
So when you woke up this morning to the other half of your bed colder than usual, you woke up with a frown. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you pull yourself to the restroom to brush your teeth and wash your face, not bothering to change out of your sleep clothes since you made Joel promise you that you guys weren’t going anywhere today.
“Darlin’?” His Southern twang calls out. 
“In the bathroom, baby,” you respond, rubbing in the last of your face cream. 
With a soft knock to your door, he’s entering, a crooked grin at the sight of you. You can’t help the grin that breaks across your face—no matter how long you two have been married, the bashfulness of two teenagers crushing on each other will never go away. 
“Good mornin’, beautiful,” his gruff voice rasps, walking up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, his lips ghosting the sweet spot below your ear. 
“Good morning, handsome,” you reply, leaning your body into his large, warm form. 
“Come back to bed,” he whispers, his face burying itself deeper into the crook of your neck. 
“Where’d you go?” You ask, not particularly liking the fact that you didn’t wake up with him this morning. 
Joel turns you in his hold so you’re facing him now. “I’m sorry, my love, I thought I’d be quicker than I was,” he tells you, catching the tone of disappointment in your voice. “I went to make you some breakfast,” he admits. “Nothin’ fancy, I just- I wanted you to eat.”
You narrow your eyes at him, flashing him a small smirk. “What’s your motive, Miller?” 
“Uh-” he stutters, not expecting that from you. “No motive, baby. What, a man can’t make sure his lady eats?” An exaggerated offensiveness evident in his inflection as he speaks. 
“Please,” you giggle. “Every Saturday, like clockwork, I either wake up with your tongue, cock, or fingers inside of me,” you state matter-of-factly. “Why breakfast now?” you ask, your eyebrow quirked up, his signature look. You cross your arms over your chest for good measure. 
Damn, you’re good. And damn, he’s so fucking in awe of you. “Fine,” he relents. “The last few times… after we’re done… you get super jittery and lightheaded. Like your blood sugar is low or somethin’. I dunno, I just, I don’t wanna be pulling so much energy from you, especially on an empty stomach.”
Your jaw would be on the floor right now if it wasn’t attached to you. Oh. My. God. You knew what you were getting into, marrying a Southern gentleman and an older one at that; and you knew just how considerate a lover Joel Miller was, but it never fails to leave your heart—and your pussy—fluttering at how attentive your man is. You are so damn lucky. 
Going back to the room and settling on the bed, Joel climbs up beside you and feeds you your breakfast—one of your absolute favorite combos: a greek vanilla yogurt, your favorite granola, and chopped up fresh strawberries. You make this almost every morning, but something about him making it just makes it taste a thousand times better—leaving your body energized for what was next to come… because shit, did you need it. 
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“Joel,” you sob, tears falling from your eyes as they fight to stay open. 
He lifts himself off your cunt, bottom half of his face shiny with your arousal. “Gimme one more, darlin’, then I’ll give you my cock,” he tells you, his heavy breath fanning across your spent center. 
“Joel, I-” you whimper, “I can’t.” Your hips bucking into his face says otherwise. He taps your hip three times. Safe word? He silently asks. One tap for green, two taps for a yellow, three taps for red—an immediate stop. Your hand nearly ripping his curls out of his head softens, tapping his neck once as you attempt to gain your breath back, soft whines blessing his ears. 
He nips the inside of your thigh before he speaks again. “You can,” and then he’s diving back in, tongue breaching your entrance as his nose rubs perfectly at your clit, hurtling you towards your third orgasm of the morning. 
“Oh, fuck-” you nearly scream, head pushing into your pillow with your eyes clamped shut, back arching off the bed. Joel throws his arm across your lower belly, keeping you down and open for him as he licks you through your high. 
Finally, he relents with a satisfied smile, placing a chaste kiss to your clit. “Knew you could give me another, my darlin’ girl.”
“Mmm, baby, please,” you say, reaching for his jaw to bring his face to yours. Not yielding to your touch completely, he brings himself up slow—the tip of his nose dragging up your naked body, Joel placing open-mouthed kisses up your belly, up your sternum, all the way to your lips, your arousal lingering with his own flavors in a deep, needy kiss. 
“Tell me what you want, baby,” he says into your lips, nipping your swollen lip before pulling away to let you speak. 
“N-need you,” you breathe, desperate. You bring your hands down to his boxer-clad bulge, your fingers causing him to twitch. 
Joel tuts, pulling your hand away and bringing it up to the side of your head, his large hand holding it down. “And I need you,” he says, biting your lip again, “to use your words, baby. C’mon,” he urges. Outside of the bedroom, you are very outspoken—this morning’s interaction as evidence—yet, when you find yourself a writhing, moaning mess underneath him, all words are stolen from your brain, all the breath is stolen from your lungs.
“Please,” you start, more determination this time. “I need you inside me, Joel, please fuck me.” You hike your legs higher up, your thighs hugging his waist as you shift your hips, your wet center rubbing against him. 
“Such a good girl f’me,” he praises, sitting up to guide his boxers down, leaving you with a complete unobstructed view of his tanned and toned naked body, his soft tummy turning the pupils of your eyes into hearts. He’s so fucking sexy, and, well fuck, you just said that out loud. 
Joel blushes, leaning back over you to kiss your forehead and your lips before he’s lining himself up with you, his sensitive tip breaching your entrance at a slow pace, his girth thick enough to stretch you every single time in all your years of marriage. 
Your eyes slowly shut as he kisses at your neck. The depth he’s able to reach as he slowly pumps in and out of you, the pubic hairs at his base rubbing against your clit, his deep groans making butterflies erupt in your belly—everything is utterly consuming your body, forcing your already sensitive body to your fourth orgasm of the morning fairly quickly. 
Joel is rocking at a steady pace, one hand underneath your lower back while his other cups the back of your head, his fingers rooting themselves into the base of your hair and applying a slight pressure, knowing the sensation drives you absolutely wild. The moan that floats through the air is enough for Joel’s cock to twitch inside of you, threatening to release at any moment. With all his strength, he lifts his head up from your neck to hover above your own, reveling in the furrow of your brows and the needy gasps coming from your throat. 
“Darlin’,” he rasps. 
“Mhm,” you squeak, unable to form any words. 
“Look at me,” he tells you, hips speeding up. He knows he’s only making it harder for you. 
Your eyes slowly peel open, but your eyes immediately roll back, the pleasure making your mind go numb. 
At your action, Joel is slowing, his hips coming to a near halt. That gets your eyes open. “J-Joel? Baby?” you call, your voice quivering with frustration. You were getting close. 
“Need those pretty eyes on me, darlin’,” he explains, his hips only starting back up because of your eye contact. 
“Y-yes, baby, okay,” you reply shakily, wanting to do anything for him to continue. 
He moves in and out of you again, incorporating a delicious slow grind with every push in. The pleasure is too fucking much, and your eyelids are slipping again even though you’re trying with every ounce of your strength to keep your gaze fixed on him, you fail. 
Again, his hips come to a painful stop. “Darlin’,” he warns. “You stop, I stop.”
“I-” you cry. “Joel, I can’t.” Tears pool at your waterline. 
His hand comes to your face, his thumb catching the runaway tear. “You can, baby, and you will.” It isn’t a request. 
You wrap your arms around his neck, keeping Joel as close to you as possible, his breathing keeping you grounded as you attempt to keep your eyes on his. Satisfied with your attempt so far, Joel starts moving, and this time, he completely lets go. Thrusting into you not too fast or not too slow—and he’s going hard, every push would make you slide slightly up the bed if he weren’t holding onto you the way that he is. 
Your eyes flutter, not shutting completely but not staying open, and Joel makes a warning sound, his mouth spewing filth to keep you focused on him. 
“Need to see those pretty eyes while you flutter ‘round me.”
“Don’t you wanna be filled? I know you want it—crave it.”
“Keep them eyes on me, babygirl. I’ll give you what you want, just lemme see you.”
“Fuck, Joel, please-!” you scream, your hips thrusting on their own accord, your climax shattering throughout your entire body. 
“Thaaat’s it, baby, atta girl,” he moans out, the sensation of you sending his eyes nearly to the back of his head. “Fuckin- give it to me, baby, just like that.” 
“Sh- shit, baby, fuck-” you cry, “please, Joel, please.” 
“Please what, baby? Use your words,” Joel rushes, chasing his own release as he pushes you through yours. 
“Please- please cum inside me, daddy, fuck- needa feel you,” you sob, your fingers gripping onto his back muscles, leaving bright red scratches in their wake as he rails you into the mattress. 
“Yeah, baby? I’ll- oh, fuck-” he whines, his balls pull taut, his tummy muscles clenching, and within seconds, he’s cumming inside you, the sticky warmth covering every inch inside of you, leaking out of your entrance as he continues his movements, slowing himself down to a stop. 
You two lay there for a moment, your chests heaving against each other. Joel places a kiss to your nose, then your lips, then he’s lifting himself off you, heading to the bathroom. You hear him start a bath. 
He comes back after a minute, guiding you to sit up and make your way to the bathroom. He kisses your shoulder. “You alright, darlin’?” 
You nod your head yes, a content smile across your features, eyelids heavy. He pulls your chin between his thumb and his forefinger, making you look at him. His signature scowl, the playful version, is on his face. Those damn words, baby, he’s telling you. 
“I’m more than alright, baby,” you finally verbalize. “I love you.” 
“I love you more, baby,” he kisses your cheek. “My darlin’ girl,” another kiss to your forehead. “My beautiful wife,” your other cheek. He continues on like that until he’s peppered your face in kisses, consuming your body with a love quite like no other. You’re a giggling mess by the time it’s over, begging for him to give you a second to breathe. 
Only then when you two settle against each other in the warm, bubbly water, does he ask his burning question. 
“Did, uh… did the breakfast help you?” 
You take a moment to register how your body feels. It feels light. Not light as in lightheaded or weak—like previous weekends. No, you feel light, warm, content—you feel energized, like you can take on the world right now despite the fact that your legs are still made of jello. You feel good. 
“Yeah,” you say. “Helped a lot.” 
“Good,” he replies in success, kissing the top of your head before he starts massaging every part of you he can reach. 
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End note -
I love you, you beautiful humans 🫶🏼
Also, please check out the links highlighted in red on my pinned post to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help 🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.
divider in middle of fic made by me, vine graphic at top & bottom made my @/saradika-graphics
@pedrostories
2K notes · View notes
kyo-00 · 1 month
Text
𖣠 ꒱ THAT’S WHY I FUCKED YO' BITCH!
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MINORS, AGELESS AND BLANK BLOGS DNI !!
content: nsfw; smut; afab!reader; cheater!reader; multi headcanon w jjk men; blowjob; backshots; recording; mating press; rough sex; hate sex, kinda; reverse cowgirl; not proof read lawl
w.c: 0.5k - 0.6k - 0.8k - 0.5k
n/a: yes i was listening to hit em up by tupac when i came up w this lol. i dont condone cheating but i saw this somewhere and had to write abt it, also not me posting about cheating on valentines day lolll. english isn’t my first language and im still a rookie at writing so bear with me please! any feedback/request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated <3
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TOJI
Toji gripped the back of your head, fucking your face relentlessly, his cock hitting your throat so good and triggering your gagging reflexes - your mascara ruined by your tears and staining your cheeks in black streaks. He was fucking seething. How dare you put him in second place? Put your boyfriend before him, really?
"Does he fuck you like I do? Does he fuck you this good?" Toji hissed, bucking his hips into your mouth. You knew he was pissed you chose to cancel your date with him to go with your boyfriend instead - the veins popping on his scowling face gave it away. His grip on you was borderline painful, giving you no breaks like he'd usually do, your jaw became sore. A fine coat of sweat stuck his dark bangs onto his forehead, his abs clenching at each deep thrust. 
"No, the fuck he doesn't. Otherwise, you wouldn't be gagging on my cock right now, fuckin' whore," Toji sneered, pushing your head down til your nose touched his pubes, choking on his girth.
You dug your sharp nails into his thighs, shutting your eyes as tears rolled down. 'Too much! Too much!', you thought, hitting the side of his thigh with your hand, desperate to fill your lungs with air. Toji yanked your head back, pulling his cock out of your mouth - his fist in your hair still firm as you gasped and coughed for air.
A wicked grin crept up Toji's face as he grabbed your phone on the side of the bed. You ignored how or when he got your phone password, but your heart dropped when your camera flash pointed toward you. "T- Toji, what're you-?"
The camera focused on your dishevelled face, half-lidded eyes with cum and drool glistening around your swollen lips, barely any thought crossing your mind, too cock drunk to think. Toji let go of his grasp on your hair and pushed his thumb past your lips, keeping your mouth from closing. “Why don’t you show him how much of a slut you are, hm? Go on, show him how good of a cocksucker you are f’me,” grabbing his shaft to tap his heavy cockhead on your wet lips.
You moaned, pursing your lips to let a thread of spit fall onto his cock and sticking out your tongue to suck on his tip, your tongue lapping across his frenulum before taking him back in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down eagerly, pumping with your hand what your mouth couldn't reach, the salty taste of his pre and cum set on your tongue as you engulfed him in wet heat. 
"That's it, good girl, milking my cock dry with those pretty lips of yours," he huffed, placing his hand back on your head, guiding your movements as he recorded you on your phone, sending each and every video to your boyfriend, who waited for you watching tv back at your place, thinking you were out with your friends.
SUGURU
Suguru yanked your head back, his hand trailing up to your throat, wrapping his thick fingers around and squeezing it enough to make you feel lightheaded. "Forget about your fucking boyfriend, darling," he said with some bitterness in his words, his lips close to your ear, "you're with me now, got it? I fuck this tight pussy more than he does anyway," he nuzzled on the side of your neck, bruising your skin as he rutted deeply, his hefty balls striking your cunt at each thrust.
You grunted, drool running down your chin and breathy moans spilling out your lipstick-smeared lips, his thrusts clouding your mind. As much as you wanted to come up with a snarky remark of yours, nothing but wanton moans came out of your mouth. The squelching of your pussy and Suguru's babbling nonsense ringing in your ears.
Suguru felt his cock pulsing when his eyes locked with yours. Your brows knit together, glaring at him with that fucking fire in your eyes. That same fire that got him going and yearning for you when he remembered you were with your so-called boyfriend and not him. He should be the one taking you on corny dates, spooning you every night in a warm embrace and fucking you dumb as he pleased, not that fucking idiot. "Fuck off Sugu, you're just a quick fuck for me," you spat, lying through your teeth.
Suguru felt a pang in his chest and his blood boiling. That's it? A quick fuck and nothing more? Lies. He buried your face on the bed, pressing your face with his foot, angling his hips to thrust deeper and harsher inside your coiling walls. "You fucking liar," Suguru rasped, his cock abusing your g-spot, "keep lying to yourself, sweetheart. We both know that's not true," he spanked the fat of your ass harshly, branding you with his handprint -a nice mark for your boyfriend to see later- your dripping cunt clenching around his dick at the stinging pain left on your skin.
He was way more than just a quick fuck to you, you knew that, but you weren't going to give him the pleasure of admitting it either (or you didn't want to admit it to yourself either). Suguru knew what it meant to be with you, yet his greediness got the better of him and craved more than a casualty with you. Changing the status between the two of you would only complicate things further for you, and you wanted things to stay just as they were, at the cost of two men's hearts.
You keened as his foot pressed you further and further against the mattress - your ass burned from the rough spanking he gave you, yet it had your back arching and toes curling. It took one more deep pound into your cunt for you to scream out his name, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your pussy fluttered and gushed on his cock.
"Shit, so damn tight," Suguru winced, fucking you through your orgasm, pumping into your sensitive pussy. He pulled out of you to turn you over your back, pressing your legs close to your chest. Suguru glided his cock up and down across your puffy lips, drawing weak mewls from you.
"I fucking hate you," he hissed, sliding inside your wet cunny with ease, picking up his brutal pace in you. Feeling dangerously close to his climax, Suguru growled, trapping your lips into a messy, passionate kiss. "I really, really hate you," he panted between smooches, his words sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than actually meaning them.
HIROMI
"Right there, huh?" Hiromi said, holding your wrists behind your back as he rocked into you. You whimpered as his cock stroked your walls tenderly, writhing underneath his slender form.
If cheating on your husband wasn't bad enough, cheating with his defence attorney made it worse.
But wasn't this karma? An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. It was nothing compared to the years of misery he gave you at his side. Your heart fluttered inside your chest when Hiromi spoke to you softly, his tone warm enough to melt under his touch, making sure you felt at ease with him, never pressuring you into anything you didn't want to - a great contrast to your husband's coldness and distant tone.
"You're so beautiful," his lips grazing against your flushed cheeks, "so damn perfect," Hiromi murmured, dropping soft kisses along your jawline, his left hand travelling north to cup your breast, pinching and pulling it. "He's an idiot for not seeing your worth as a woman."
Soft moans of his name fell from your lips, throwing your head back to press your lips on his, sinking your sweet sounds into the kiss. There was some doubt within you whether he meant what he said or it was just the heat of the moment since you didn't see him outside the courtrooms (and hotels). You questioned the genuineness in his words, but those words were the ones that made the heat spread under your skin and made you long for more of his affection, more of his touch, more of him.
"Hiromi," you breathed, your skin prickled as his teeth latched onto your shoulder blade, sucking and licking the bruised area gently as an apology. "You can't leave marks, you know that," you murmured with weight in your heart, worried that his love marks would be seen by your husband.
"Let him see them," he cooed, dropping a chaste kiss on your shoulder, "he still needs me to win his case anyway, and if he ever tries to land a hand on you, I can always put you in touch with a colleague and start your divorce proceedings."
Divorce, the word echoed in your mind. You'd be lying to yourself if you hadn't thought about leaving your husband, even before starting your affair with his attorney.
"I hear those gears revving; you're thinking about it, are you?" Hiromi purred, the pad of his fingers skimming feather-light over your silken smooth skin, "Leaving your excuse of a husband."
His fingers reached for your sensitive bud, circling it in eight. The thought of you becoming a free woman and him finally being able to court you appropriately got Hiromi worked up, his cock throbbing in your sweet cunt. He let go of your wrists as he picked up his pace in you, his strokes deep and lusciously suffocating.
"F-fuck, I can't wait to be able to fuck you without going behind your husband's back," he groaned, jackhammering into your cunt. You gasped at his newfound pace, fisting the silk sheets underneath. With your mind fogged in lust, you cried at the aimless swat of his hips against your ass, your legs quivering and about to give up. Hiromi was taking you to cloud nine, curling your toes in pleasure and shutting your eyes with your lips parted, his movements drawing his name from your throat in broken sobs.
"it pisses me off to see you walk away three steps behind your idiot husband after trials," he frowned, his body shuddering at the clench of your coiling walls around his girth, cream rings of your arousal coating the base of his cock. 
"I think about you a lot, y'know? You and this perfect pussy of yours," he panted, kneading the fat of your ass, "do you also think about me when I'm not around? tell me."
Dizzy, you nodded, forcing your eyes to open and look back at his blissed-out face as he pounded your wet cunny. "Yesss," you slurred, pursing your wet lips into a pout, loving his strokes in your sweet spots and sending your nerves on fire, the band of coiling pleasure within you about to snap. "Hiromi, I wanna- lemme cum-" you whimpered.
Listening to your sweet pleas, he stammered, his voice dropping an octave, "Shit— Cum, baby, cum on my cock," Hiromi felt his dick pulsating at your spasming walls, also close to his climax.
Waves of pleasure washed over you as you reached your peak, collapsing onto the mattress in shattered breaths and your heart racing. Hiromi winced and pulled out, earning a whine from you at the empty feeling. Jerking himself off in erratic tugs, warm ropes of cum fell on your back down to your ass—your name on his lips as orgasmed, lolling his head back in pleasure.
The tangy smell of sweat and sex lingered in the room, the sounds of ragged breathing echoing. Fulfilled, Hiromi gulped, licking his lips wet as he plastered his body on the mattress to your side, pulling you into an embrace. "That was..." he sighed, still dazed from his high and his chest heaving, "...amazing."
SUKUNA
"Fuck- just like that, baby, bounce on my cock," Sukuna grunted quietly, squeezing on your waist as you fucked yourself on his dick, your ass juggling at each bounce. 
The sounds of smacking flesh and shallow breaths echoed louder in your ears than the indistinct voices from the TV. Wanton moans were drawn out of you as he guided your movements on top of him, his cock making you forget about everything surrounding you and focus on the sensations it sent throughout your nervous system.
"Damn, you know how to fuck— this pussy always feels so tight and incredible around my cock," Sukuna rasped, his teeth latching onto his bottom lip to quiet his grunts and hear your lewd sounds. Something about you crying out his name while your cunt sucked him in so deliciously always did things to him; it made him want to hear them more often than every two weeks as your encounters occurred.
A buzzing sound echoed from the side of the bed, bringing Sukuna slightly out of his trance. Your phone screen lit up, your boyfriend's name written on it, being the third time he had called you tonight. "He never gives up, does he?" Sukuna rolled his eyes and sneered, picking your phone up.
"Leave it. I'll answer later," you panted, waving your hand dismissively as you kept up with your movements atop Sukuna— feeling too good to care about some boyfriend you had.
Sukuna's hand travelled down to your bottom cheeks, squeezing the plush of your ass. "Nah, I think I'll answer now; you keep up riding my dick," he said, pressing the green button on your phone, "hello?"
"Hello? Who's this?" your boyfriend asked, his voice carrying bewilderment in his tone.
A wicked laugh came out of Sukuna's lips as he met your thrusts with his hips, drawing louder moans out of you. "I'm fucking yo' bitch. She's a real freak in the sheets," Sukuna answered, small moans escaping him.
"What? Y're fucking with me, right?" You could hear the anger simmering in the man's voice, befuddled, "cut the bullshit, who the fuck is this?" he reiterated, his voice sharp-edged.
Ignoring the question once again, Sukuna huffed, "I'm fucking your girl— Shit- you feel so good," an impish grin tugged the corner of his lips, pumping his shaft in and out of you.
Mixed sounds of your moans and his grunts were heard through your phone. After a pregnant pause, Sukuna spoke again, "She's mine now, got it? This pretty pussy loves taking my cock in, so fuckin greedy f'me," he sighed with pleasure, jaw-slacked.
"Alright, Imma pull up and beat the shit out of you," your boyfriend finally said before hanging up, a snicker leaving Sukuna as he heard him, not worried a single bit. In fact, he was thrilled by the idea of your boyfriend trying to fight him; that way you'd finally realize who you should be with.
He dropped the phone to a side of the bed, placing now both hands on your body, ravishing in the tightness of your cunt. "'kuna, you're gonna get me in trouble," you whined, looking back at him with your brows frowned in pleasure.
"What, scared he's gonna actually come here and 'beat me up'?" Sukuna mimicked your boyfriend's voice, not really worried, "Don't worry about that; I can fight," he answered, his abs clenching and glistening in sweat and other bodily fluids as he continued on fucking you stupid.
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warnings: dirty talk,smutty smut,miguel o'hara
just watched across the spiderverse nd now i'm feral so enjoy my lovlies <3 (also peep the titanic reference)
No thoughts just this image of slow, nasty sex with miguel o’hara, his hips rocking into yours at an agonizingly slow pace. He's got his head in your neck and his arms wrapped around the back of your head holding you as close as humanly possible to him “that’s it cariño, such a good girl” he groans in your ear, his heavy panting warming your neck as he ruts into you. You squeeze your eyes shut and whimper at the heavy feeling of pleasure permeating the room. “m-miguel” you manage to get out in between pants, your hands squeezing and clawing at his back leaving red lines in their wake “fuck” he hisses and you feel his fangs graze your neck sending a shiver down your spine, you gasp and arch up into his chest “shit miggy, so good” your words seem to slur as you toss your head back into the pillow as much as you can
as your hands slide down to his lower back to push him in further, miguel pulls away just enough to lean on his elbows “mírame mi amor” he purrs. You struggle to open your eyes but when you do you’re met with what you believe is the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen
miguel’s hair is stuck to the skin of his forehead, pieces sticking up in odd places from being yanked on, his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, his mouth is slightly open with the most sinful grunts falling from his lips, and his body is covered in a delicious sheen of sweat. that coupled with the sight of him rocking into your body is enough to make you cum right then and there. 
Jesus he looks like a god
He fucks like one too 
Miguel’s eyes are searching your face, memorizing every gasp, every contortion of pleasure, he loves nights like this. Where all that can be heard is the sound of your little whimpers and gasps of his name, where all he can feel in his entire being is the wet, warm pull of his cock inside of you. He gives one particularly hard thrust and it jolts you slightly up the bed “jesus! fuck-mm” the breath feels like it’s being knocked out of you as you approach that feeling of complete euphoria that only miguel can give you, his hips change pace and suddenly every thrust is almost impossibly deeper than the last. His hand slides down your body until it hooks under your knee and pulls your leg around his waist, as your legs lock around his back a growl rips through his body 
“se siente demasiado bien cariño” he rushes out in a pleasure filled groan, his hand wraps around the back of your neck and pulls your head up to meet him in a desperate kiss. It’s wet and sloppy and feels so good as his hips continue to slam into yours, his pelvis catches your clit and you break the kiss, throwing your head back and moaning “ah-por favor miguel” he hangs his head to rest it against your shoulder, he lets out the most toe curling laugh “pobre bebé” he says in a mocking tone “puedes tómalo hmm? i know you can, such a good fucking girl for papi”
His words go straight to your core and you clench around his cock as he grunts “sí papi, make me cum” you whine “un poco más mamí, then you can cum all over this big cock yeah? I know you want it, tell me” miguel picks up his pace, the wet squelching sound filling the room “mierda, hear that? this pussy loves my thick cock, practically pullin’ me back in” tears start to roll down your eyes as you feel that burning fire in your stomach begin to flood all over your body “please miguel, m’so close i can’t-” you trail off as you get lost in the drag of miguel's cock, you can feel his thrusts getting rougher and his breathing quicker and you can tell that he’s close too 
“tell me you want it, baby” he breathes from above you, “fuck! I want it miguel please, wanna cum” your body feels like jello, all thought escaping your brain until there's nothing left but miguel. “cum” he orders, your pussy contracts around him while that band finally snaps, your legs shake and your nails dig into his sides as his hips continue to snap into yours, riding out your orgasm. he moans and speeds up his unforgiving pace “coño, buena chica,tómalo, tómalo” he captures your lips in his, his moans muffled as he spills into you, warmth spreading throughout your lower body
Miguel slips onto his forearms, his muscles taut and body absolutely covered in sweat. You roam your hands over his body, soothing him. “you’re trembling” you whispered, he offers you a lazy smile “i’ll be okay” he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, his broad chest expanding “so are you cariño” he says as he opens his eyes, you smile up at him. This beautiful greek sculpture of a man lying above you “yeah well that’s because i was fucked within an inch of my life so, whose fault is that” he respondes with a shake of his head and a small smile on his lips as he presses soft kiss on your cheek before he slowly slides off of you and heads to the bathroom
after a minute you can hear the water running, miguel appeared in your shared bedroom doorway “wanna take a bath with me mamí?” he holds out a hand for you to take, you beam at him before you start to make your way out of your bed only to realize something. “uh miguel?” “hmm?” 
“i can’t move my legs”
Translations:
cariño: sweetheart/dear
se siente demasiado bien: feels too good
por favor: please
pobre bebé: poor baby
puedes tomarlo: you can take it 
un poco más: just a little more
mierda: shit
coño: fuck 
buena chica: good girl 
tómalo: take it
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𝔪𝔦𝔡𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 (𝔪) | 𝔪𝔶𝔤
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𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤: yoongi x f.reader
𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤: m (18+); MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔰 | 𝔱𝔶𝔭𝔢 | 𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: complete | one-shot | fluff and smut
𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: "I think I can help you sleep better."
𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰 & 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: smut, explicit language, sleepy yoongi struggling with burnout :((( , taking a shower together <3, long hair Valentino yoongi 🧎🏻‍♀️, dick bulge through the silk pants 🫡 , oral sex (m. receiving), flexible dom/sub dynamics (they each take charge at certain points, but it's nothing intense), praise (yoongi calls her "pretty/good girl" 🫠), slight hair pulling/grabbing, face-fucking, finger sucking + a paragraph talking about Yoongi's hands, a lil bit of gagging, cum swallowing, might as well add body worship from how much reader talks about how gorgeous he is, yoongi's thighs ♡, spit/drooling, slight ball play, reader sniffs the balls because she's like that lmao, reader doesn't touch herself or cum, this list is nasty but I promise you they're very sweet with each other 😭, cuddling <3, this is about sucking dick it should not be this long
𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: ~4.8k
𝔞/𝔫: hello! this is my first fic ever on this blog. I rewatched all the Valentino Yoongi content recently, saw him looking scumptious in these pajamas, and next thing you know we're here 💀 I haven't written anything this long (that is non-academic) in a very, very long time, so I would ask that you please be nice and bear with me. But I do plan to get better the more I write. That said, I hope you enjoy! 🤍
𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 | 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 | 𝔞𝔰𝔨 | 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔡𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔨 | 𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔬𝔴𝔫
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞
“You need to relax.” 
Your voice was insistent but gentle, much like your fingers buried in Yoongi’s thick hair, and he closed his eyes and leaned into your palms as you worked shampoo into his scalp. A quiet whimper escaped his lips as you circled your fingertips against a tense muscle at the base of his skull. 
He was overworking himself again, frustration making his shoulders taut and wearing his patience thin. His eye bags were puffy, exhaustion evident in his eyes. It pained you to know that he hadn’t given himself a break over the past few weeks. Yoongi was so passionate, something you adored about him – but you knew that when inspiration struck, sometimes he had the tendency to push himself too hard, for too long. Now it left him on the brink of burnout. 
That’s where you came in. Yoongi had been glued to his desk before you came in and practically forced him from his chair. He made weak protests as you dragged him out of his home studio and forced him into the bathroom, but he’d shrugged off his clothes anyway as you turned on the warm water. 
Now you both stood under the warm sprinkle while you washed his hair. Yoongi let out pleased purr-like sounds from deep in his throat that made you grin. He reminded you of a wet, docile cat resigned to its bath time. 
When it was time to rinse, you cupped your hand over his brows to block any soap from getting in his eyes as water poured over his head. Then you took your fingers and gently rubbed along his neck to clean him and hopefully melt any tension there. Yoongi held your wrist and gently rubbed his thumb along your skin, his way of giving you a silent thank you. Warmth bloomed in your chest, so you planted a kiss on his fingers – your own silent “you're welcome” that wouldn’t disrupt the nighttime quiet. 
You held him close, rubbing down his chest and stomach with a soapy rag. Thick bubbles lathered from his shoulders all the way down to his fingers before swirling down the drain. 
Around his hips and butt, you were sure to be gentle, even gripping one of his cheeks playfully. Yoongi pouted, whiny, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the red that dusted his cheeks before his face broke out into a small, tired smile. Meanwhile, Yoongi set about reaching down to clean himself. He wasn’t overtly prude but he did always prefer to do this part himself, so you crouched down carefully and made your way down his legs. 
You focused on softly rubbing down Yoongi’s legs and even leaned forward to lay a soft kiss on the skin. You couldn’t explain it, but you adored Yoongi’s thighs. You loved touching them, holding them, kissing them. Biting them. A small pool of heat bloomed in you as you realized that you were now eye-level with his cock too, driving you to give him a more forceful, hungry kiss. The thought of taking him into your mouth, right here and now, crossed your mind, fueled by the simmering image of Yoongi’s head thrown back in bliss, body glistening from the shower water. Unfortunately, you knew from experience that water wasn’t conducive to sex, and the thought of soap getting in your eyes and nose was not in the least bit appealing. 
With great restraint, you pulled away and scrubbed his calves and feet. As soon as you were done, Yoongi hauled you up and scrubbed you down with the same gentle ease as you had given him. He made sure to shield your hair from the pouring water, since you’d clipped it up to keep it from getting wet. Your tummy quivered when Yoongi passed his hand between your legs, a small look of mischief glinting in his knowing eyes when you bit your lip. But he continued his downward path, leaving you feeling warmer than steam. 
A part of you ached, feeling how tender he was being with you, even when he was tired, even when you were the one trying to take care of him. He always was. Yoongi’s eyes flickered down to your face and must have seen something in it, because his eyes were soft when he met your gaze again. 
“I want to take care of you, too,” he said. You didn’t say anything, but the shy turn of your lips was enough to tell him how you felt. 
When you were done, Yoongi shut off the shower and reached out to wrap you in a spare towel, rubbing your shoulders and back all the way down your torso and legs. Then Yoongi deftly unwound the towel and used it to dry himself. You wrinkled your nose.
“You should use your own towel,” you complained, but there was no malice in your words. Yoongi only chuckled and pulled you close. 
“I’m tired,” he countered with a playful whine. “And impatient.” 
A laugh bubbled from your mouth and he rubbed his nose against your temple. Your cheeks warmed when he shifted and you felt a subtle tell-tale poke against your hip, but before you could say anything, he pulled away with a soft rub on your tummy to slip into his pajamas and finish his night routine. 
You were left to do the same, but now you felt anything but sleepy. 
The festering heat that had been lingering inside you now sparked into a deep desire. As you pulled on your pajamas – a simple tank top and sleep shorts – you thought of Yoongi’s hands on you, thought of his skin underneath your own wandering palms. 
Then you chided yourself. Don’t be selfish, you thought. He’s tired. Let him rest. You knew it was true. Yoongi was probably exhausted and would have no energy to do what you wanted, and it wasn’t fair to expect that of him right now. Besides, you reasoned, it wouldn’t be a good idea to keep him up longer than you already had. 
You made your way to the bedroom, which beckoned you with its deep blues and cozy greys. 
Yoongi’s room was a nighttime haven. He liked to keep it as comfortable as possible, with soft carpets and downy pillows. Next to his large bed sat a settee, your robe robe sprawled across it from when you’d tossed it before the shower.
Once you sat on the plush duvet, you almost immediately felt your eyelids become droopy. You were almost glad for the gentle tug of drowsiness, which quelled your desire enough to make sleep bearable. 
Until Yoongi came into the bedroom – and any thoughts you had about sleep immediately evaporated. 
His pajamas were black silk, the fabric sleek like ink against his skin in the low light of your bedroom. He didn’t seem to notice the way you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him while he riffled through his bedside drawer for something. Socks, maybe. You couldn’t be sure, not when your mind suddenly felt hazy as you traced the line of Yoongi’s body down, down until – Oh God, was that the outline of his cock?
Swallowing almost became impossible from how heavy your tongue suddenly felt in your mouth, your eyes hungrily taking in every delicious detail of the man in front of you. His dark hair, the curve of his lips, the small shadow that pooled in the divot of his collarbone, making you want to bite bite bite.
You didn’t know why these pajamas were driving you up the wall, especially when Yoongi had been naked in front of you not long ago, but they were. They pulled your eyes to him and sparked your dampened libido back to life. 
“What’s the matter, pretty girl?” Yoongi’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. Dark eyes and a small smirk met your eyes when you finally looked up. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Fuck. He knows.
Embarrassment flooded your cheeks, warm and red. Of course he would. He knew you. He knew you’d been aching for him ever since the shower, knew that you wouldn’t ask for what you wanted because you were supposed to be making sure he rested. But as your eyes fell again shamelessly to his veiled cock, you realized that he was just as needy as you. 
Yoongi’s gaze was the same – knowing, wanting – when you met it again, but the red of your cheeks disappeared as your lips parted in an impish smile. 
“Nothing,” you shrugged as you stood up from the bed, “just thinking.”
You closed the distance between you two, until the familiar smell of him, warm and woodsy, filled your head. 
“I think I can help you sleep better,” you said, your finger sliding up his chest and playing with the lapel of his sleep shirt. The look Yoongi gave you made you want to get on your knees right there and then. 
Yoongi’s breath was warm and sent goosebumps up your arms when he said, low and oh-so-quiet, “Show me.”
I will your eager smirk said as you took his hand. 
He followed you to the settee nestled in the corner of the room and landed with a quiet poof against the cushions when you pushed him backwards and immediately kneeled between his legs. 
A sly glint shone in your eye as you smoothed your hands down Yoongi’s chest, his heartbeat strong and steady, then brought them up and down his thighs over the luxurious slip of his silk pajamas, the fabric the only barrier keeping you from touching his skin.
Yoongi let you take your fill of him, leaning back against the cushions and watching you with amused eyes that made you only more eager to please him. As you worshiped him with your palms, the need to feel him everywhere overcame you. To smell him, touch him, taste him. 
Your hand ghosted over where his cock was hidden, and you nearly moaned feeling the slowly-stiffening bulge. A devious bite of your lip as you looked up at him, your hands reaching for the hem of his pants. “Can I take these off?” 
Yoongi huffed out a laugh, beautiful and bright. The sound made your heart swell. He ran a hand through his dark hair and sunk lower in his seat, spreading his legs wider. “Go for it.”
The pants were off in seconds and pooled around his ankles. Miles of milky white skin seemed to stretch on forever as Yoongi let you run your hands over him; his legs, his hips, his stomach and chest as your hands roamed under his shirt. You quickly unbuttoned it too, leaving his chest bare for you. 
Yoongi’s dark eyes brimmed with budding arousal but still shone playfully as he watched you. A tremor ran through him as you gently scraped your nails down the skin of his navel, right above his cock. Goosebumps traveled up Yoongi’s stomach and a quick glance upwards let you know that his nipples had stiffened, but you kept your eyes on the real prize.
Semi-erect and already stiff at the base, Yoongi’s cock was flushed dusky pink at the tip. Desire coursed hot and molten through you, your hands hot as you shifted eagerly on your knees. You couldn’t wait to have him in your mouth.
Leaning in, you pressed small, fleeting kisses around his thighs, avoiding his cock entirely, getting him worked up from the teasing sensation of your lips on his skin. In truth, it helped hold you back as well. Yoongi’s pretty honey skin always filled you with the desire to mark him up. The temptation to suck on it, bite it, worry it between your teeth until bruises and bite marks bloomed all over him was strong, but instead you settled for gentle brushes of your lips.
Your hands still made their way up and around his legs, soothing and comforting. Closer and closer you made your way up, licking at warm skin. A breathy sigh made you look up: Yoongi’s head tilted back slightly as he looked down at you through half-lidded eyes. 
You lifted your head and rubbed around his hip bones. “Good?”
Yoongi hummed in response, the tension in him melting away as he gave you a slow smile. “So good I’m falling asleep.” 
“Don’t sleep on me.”
“Keep me up,” Yoongi challenged.
You rolled your eyes and pinched his thigh playfully. “Fine, I’ll get to it.” 
Settling in again, you licked your palm and fingers. You heard Yoongi gasp quietly as you wrapped your fingers around him, gently pumping your fist. His skin was hot, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Laying your head against his hip, you watched him close his eyes as he licked his lips. 
“Better?” you asked with amused eyes.
Yoongi nodded. “Much better.”
You hummed, pleased. “Good.”
Once Yoongi’s cock had completely filled out, you took a moment to admire it. 
You remembered, before ever seeing Yoongi naked, wondering if his cock was just as pink as his lips, his elbows, the knuckles of his long, knobby fingers. You had been pleased to find out that it was pinker, especially when erect. 
The head glistened red and sticky with precum. You felt your own mouth start to drool at the thought of it between your lips: the velvety skin, the heavy weight of it against your tongue, the taste of him. 
You rubbed his hips before taking his cock in your hand again. 
“So fucking perfect,” you breathed, the words pouring out of your mouth before you could even think, your breath ghosting tantalizingly close to his tip. Yoongi let his head fall back in bliss as you worked your fist around him, goosebumps racing along his hips. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him splayed out above you, knowing you were making him feel so good.
Feeling bold, you continued to stroke him and leaned down to where his balls hung low. Yoongi lifted his head, eyes sharp as your tongue laved over the velvety skin before gently sucking one of the plump balls into your mouth. You held his gaze, unwavering, matching the intensity of Yoongi’s dark eyes. You hummed, pleased, then smirked slightly before placing a wet kiss where your lips had just been. Then you did the same with the other, rolling it in your mouth gently. Yoongi’s soft tongue poked out to lick at his lips before he sucked in a shaky breath, reveling in the pleasure of you playing with him
Precum slipped between your fingers and filled the room with the slick sound of the glide up and down his shaft. The wet, filthy sound drove your lust to even greater heights, and the whine Yoongi let out when you suddenly stopped stroking made your cunt ache.
His eyes met yours and the smile you gave him was absolutely sinful when you gripped your fingers around his tip to press your nose against the base of his cock. Yoongi covered his face and huffed out a laugh that broke into a strangled moan as you inhaled the clean, heady scent of him.
You hummed lowly. “Fuck, you smell so good, Yoon.” 
A bead of precum dripped from the slit of his cock, and you circled it around the head with your thumb, unrelenting, until it was sensitive and glistening. You relished the way his thighs tensed at the motion, the way his hands tensed, the way he squeezed his eyes shut. A teasing lick to his head. A strangled “shit” under his breath. Fuck, you couldn’t wait to have him moaning, loudly. 
You wanted him, craved the taste of him, the feel of him in your mouth—
“Can’t wait to taste you,” you said innocently, then taunting. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Like me to suck on your cock?”
You licked your lips, watched Yoongi’s eyes follow the movement of your purposeful tongue, then licked up the underside of his swollen, needy shaft. A low moan tumbled from Yoongi’s mouth as he shifted his hips. “Fuck—yes, please.”
Satisfied with his desperation, you brought your mouth down around the aching tip of his cock. Yoongi sucked in a breath and gripped the cushions as you teased your tongue over his slit. The salty taste of precum burst in your mouth. Slick and warm, it coated your tongue. You moaned. This is what you wanted.
After a few moments toying with his slit, you circled the sensitive rim around the crown of his cock, drawing breathy moans from Yoongi’s lips. Then you trailed your tongue down to the spot underneath where you knew he was sensitive and slowly licked it with the flat of your tongue. 
Yoongi had shown you how he liked to tease it with the pad of his finger sometimes while he masturbated – quick or languid, always unrelenting until he’d managed to spurt all over himself. He loved when you played with it afterwards, making his hips spasm from the oversensitivity. More precum dribbled from his tip which you suckled up with deliberate licks.
Yoongi threw his head back and stilled as your tongue flicked over the spot quickly, assaulting it with your tongue. “Fuck,” he hissed, his whole body tense above you. 
Suddenly, a dull pain lanced across your scalp. Yoongi’s hand laced into your hair and pulled your head closer, making you whimper at the rough treatment.
“Down,” he said, tugging again, and holy shit, just one word uttered gently from him had you clenching your cunt desperately like a bitch in heat. Happy to comply, you sunk your mouth down around him, keeping your eyes on him the way he liked it. You held your head low for a moment before pulling off. “Good girl,” he praised with a subtle groan. Yoongi gave you a couple seconds to regain yourself, rubbing soothing circles on your abused scalp, before saying, “Again.”
Eager, you repeated the motion and held your mouth there for a moment, eyes closed as you swallowed around him. When it was time to pull off, you sucked in a breath with your eyes locked on his slick cock. To see it flushed and gleaming with your spit made your stomach twist with lewd excitement. A whispered “fuck” left Yoongi’s lips as a string of spit stretched from his tip to your lips, and you preened when Yoongi reached out rub his thumb soothingly across yourcheek. 
“You look so pretty with your mouth full of my cock,” he said, and you felt dizzy with arousal when he gave you his beautiful smile. He was gorgeous — dark hair and deep eyes and flushed cheeks. Tender touches and gentle praise. The sudden fondness in Yoongi’s eyes clashing with his filthy words and the fact that his cock had been down your throat not five seconds ago gave you momentary whiplash.
Yoongi’s smile melted into something cruel as he dragged his thumb down your mouth, breaking the sticky string of spit, before pushing it past your lips. Feeling cocky, your tongue came out to lick obscenely around his thumb and you moaned around it as if it were his cock. 
It might as well have been; you loved Yoongi’s hands, his long fingers and rough palms. His beautiful instruments, when he was strumming the guitar or playing the piano. You loved how gentle they were with you, brushing back your hair, holding your hands, cupping your cheeks. But you also loved how filthy they could be: rubbing your clit and fucking your wet cunt until it made obscene squelching sounds and dripped down his palm. You felt your cunt drool filthily onto your panties, surely soaked by now.
Two more fingers pressed past the gates of your lips as Yoongi fingered your throat gently. Fuck, such a filthy sight had Yoongi gripping his still-aching cock, groaning at the way your throat tightened around his digits, the way spit spilled from your mouth. 
“So fuckin’ eager, like you were made for me.” Yoongi’s voice rumbled low from his throat, his chest heaving slightly, making you grip your knees. He pulled his fingers from your mouth and tilted your chin up, your hazy eyes now open. A surprised squeak left your mouth as Yoongi leaned down and kissed you sweetly on the lips. His soft hair ticked your cheeks. 
“Just a little more, yeah?” he said, holding your face close to his, and you nodded, dazed. Your eyes locked onto his pink lips that shone with your own spit and his precum. The sight shouldn’t have excited you as much as it did, but it sent a thrill up your spine.
Then Yoongi was leaning back and licking his lips. “Then c’mere, pretty girl, come finish sucking my cock.” 
And how could you say no to that?
It wasn’t long before Yoongi’s wet cock was back in your willing mouth. You circled your tongue around his tip reverently, Yoongi’s hips canting into your mouth when you looked up at him with those slutty, wanton eyes. 
“Good girl—just like that,” he groaned. “Keep going and don’t fucking stop.”
Your pussy tingled and you thought you might be able to cum just from the way the center seam of your shorts was rubbing against you. Even if you didn’t, you would be more than satisfied. You loved making Yoongi feel good, and you loved his cock. You could spend eternity on your knees worshiping Yoongi and his beautiful tool. The glide of him in and out of your mouth was perfect, so solid and warm that you couldn’t help but think about the way it felt when he slid into your cunt, filling you up just right, slippery with your wetness—
God, if you weren’t so hell-bent on making sure Yoongi slept well tonight, you’d push him down and ride him until morning. 
You gagged a bit in surprise when Yoongi gave a particularly quick thrust into your mouth, but fuck it if the sound he made wasn’t worth it. The deep, breathy groan went straight to your cunt, and you moaned around a mouthful of cock. Pleasant vibrations traveled down Yoongi’s shaft and made Yoongi’s grip on your hair tighten. 
“This okay?” he asked, breath strained. Yoongi’s fingers tensed and, as if he could sense the sharp pain in your scalp, immediately went lax.
So considerate, you thought fondly to yourself. You’d be smiling if your mouth wasn’t so busy. 
You brought Yoongi’s free hand to where his other fingers were already threaded in your hair. A garbled hum and a nod was all it took for him to hold your head in place as he rut his hips into your mouth, letting out a string of moans while your fingers played with his balls. 
Spit slid past your lips and dripped down your chin with each of Yoongi’s thrusts into your mouth. You felt so thoroughly used, sitting for him so prettily on your knees, not even touching yourself while he chased his release.
“You’re doing so good, so fucking good,” he said, sucking in a breath, head thrown back against the couch. 
Yoongi’s hand pushed you down until your throat contracted around him, tears welling along your waterline. You didn’t mind though — Yoongi was desperate to cum, chasing blissful orgasm, and you were happy to give it to him. 
As he thrust into your mouth, you licked along his shaft before flexing your tongue to rub against the rim of his cockhead. Yoongi’s hips stuttered and he let out a shaky breath. You peeked up at his blissful face, seeing his half-lidded, hazy eyes. Yoongi was close, teetering on the precipice of his release. His stomach was tense as you slobbered over him, the sound of your slick lips and his voice mingling in a lustful torrent. 
You groaned eagerly, letting your tongue do the work until, finally, Yoongi came. The deep, breathy groan he let out was going to stay with you forever. So was the sight of Yoongi in the throes of his orgasm: head thrown back, thighs spread, skin flushed pink all the way down his neck. The veins snaking up his arms were taut, stark under his skin. 
Yoongi’s brows were furrowed and his plush lips parted. His hips stilled as he pushed you down securely on his cock. It pulsed hotly in your mouth, spurting a thick pool of cum on your tongue, making you moan obscenely. Yoongi’s breath hitched as you closed your eyes and swallowed his seed, palm still cupping his balls. 
Like his length, they throbbed as his cum was spent. You fondled them gently to milk more out of him, not wanting to miss a single drop. You loved Yoongi’s cum — the taste of it, the feeling of it sliding hotly down your throat and settling deep in your belly. Your eyes became glassy at the thought, a dopey smile spreading across your lips. 
Yoongi gently slid himself from your mouth to paint your lips with the last drops of his cum, watching you reverently drink everything he had to offer until there was nothing left. Feeling naughty, you licked across his overstimulated tip one last time, and Yoongi shuddered, his thighs closing around her head. 
“Brat,” he huffed, but he was smiling. Your smile was just as bright as you swallowed the sticky mess on your lips and lapped at his cock with little kitten licks to clean him up. A kiss was planted on his knee before you pulled up his pants and tucked him away. “Only for you,” you said with a pat to his thighs. 
Yoongi re-buttoned his sleep shirt and pulled you up into his lap to smooth down your unruly hair. He gently ran his fingers across your chin, wiping away the mess of his escaped cum and your spit. Then he kissed you. You hummed happily against his lips before Yoongi pulled away.
“Thank you,” he whispered, looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. “You always make me feel so good.”
It was amazing, really, how you could suck his cock so unabashedly on your knees, but the gentlest words from his mouth had you blushing shyly. 
He took your hand in his and led you towards the bed where he pulled you down with him, his frame enveloping yours as the comforter fell over you two. Yoongi intertwined your fingers and rubbed his thumb across the back of your knuckles. 
He was always like this in the afterglow of whatever you two did – affectionate, attentive, a bit sleepy. Yoongi was, at heart, a passionate, considerate lover who thrived on soft and tender moments such as these. You could never get enough of it; the way he touched you, how tender and safe he made you feel. 
He rubbed his nose against your hair and slipped his hand across your stomach, solid and warm. 
“You didn’t cum?” he asked, and you shook your head no. Yoongi drummed his fingers soothingly against your skin. “You want to?”
The offer was tempting, but you felt yourself close to crashing now that you had burned through your lust, and although you couldn’t see him, you knew Yoongi must have been even sleepier than you. 
You brought his hand close to your chest and kissed his fingers sweetly.
“Later. I’m sleepy,” you said, then sighed. “Besides, I feel like I need another shower.” 
Indeed, a cool layer of sweat now covered your skin, along with some spit and cum that had dripped onto your chest. Not to mention how sticky your panties felt in your shorts. 
Yoongi chuckled sleepily and tightened his arm around you. “Okay,” he agreed, holding you close before his fingers ventured down and pressed over the seam of your shorts. He rubbed a slow, deliberate circle over your clothed mound, a teasing phantom touch that reminded you of the pleasure he could give you with those fingers. His lips were hot against your throat, and you shivered as he gripped your hip in his free hand and said, so close to your ear that you shivered, “Later.”
The thought of his head between your thighs, suckling on your poor pussy while his deft fingers prepared you for his cock, flooded your mind. You could only imagine soaking him down to the base as he slipped inside you, making you roll your hips against his fingers. 
You nodded quickly, breathily. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds good.” 
Yoongi’s breath was like a balmy breeze on your neck as he chuckled. “Thought so.” He placed a kiss under your ear before snuggling close, finally letting himself sleep. Your own eyelids fell shut, and Yoongi’s heartbeat lulled you like a gentle rhythm in your ear until sleep overcame you too. 
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞
Copyright © prettypearlypisces. Do not copy, rewrite, repost, translate, or otherwise alter or claim on any platforms.
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darling--core · 1 month
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tutoring session+cockwarming=Dakota not actually being able to tutor 😇
𝙎𝙏𝙐𝘿𝙔 𝙏𝙄𝙈𝙀 ! ━━━━━━ 𝙙𝙖𝙠𝙤𝙩𝙖 𝙗.
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₊˚Ꮺ→ ABOUT. 18+, yandere nerd x gn reader, switch yandere, switch reader (but kinda dom leaning in this instance). includes; cockwarming, begging/whimpering, teasing, denial
₊˚Ꮺ→ NOTES. cant believe u put this in my inbox and thought i wasnt gonna write it literally immediately (immediately as in like 3 days but whatever)
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"and... what's the equation for this one again?"
your voice, barely even fucking breathless, somehow both smug and innocent– god, it nearly does him in. his fingers dig into the fat of your hips, the weight of your thighs on top of his the only thing keeping his legs from fuckin' trembling.
dakota swallows hard, his throat feeling dry, as he looks over your shoulder. he can see the corner of your mouth quirk up into a sly smile when his shaky breath ghosts over the skin of your throat, right at the crook of your neck and shoulder. he blinks from behind his glasses, trying to force his gaze to focus on the papers in front of you, your handwriting that he knows so well, but now it all just looks like squiggles to him.
"um... which... which one?"
your little breathy laugh makes his mouth feel dry, especially when you turn your head to look at him a bit closer and you shift in his lap.
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fuck– you’re so warm inside, so fucking perfect around him, how is he supposed to think like this?
“c’mon kota, pay attention. you’re supposed to be helping me study so i don’t fail this class, remember?” you tease, practically taunting him, as if he’s forgotten. but forgetting isn't the problem– it’s just that he can’t seem to fucking function when you’re near him, let alone when he’s buried to the hilt inside you and you won't let him move.
his cock twitches from just the sound of your voice, and he rests his forehead against the back of your shoulder, digging his fingers into your skin as he calls on the last tiny bits of restraint he has to keep from bucking up into you.
“sorry, my love–” he mutters to you, his breath hot against your skin, shivers creeping along his skin with the restraint it takes to keep being good for you. “‘m sorry, you just– you feel so good, it’s hard to… to concentrate.”
he hears you hum in response– and then he’s sucking in a sharp breath, a moan caught in his throat, as you shift in his lap on purpose, rocking your hips back against him.
“please,” he finds himself pleading, resolve crumbling with that one little move, one of his arms wrapping around your waist, trying to keep himself anchored, breathless and dizzy. he breathes you in, the scent of your skin, his whole world narrowing down until it's consumed completely by you, in his lap. “please, just– can we take a break? god, i can’t–”
“no, this is helping me think,” you interrupt, seemingly unmoved by his pleas as you lean forward into the desk, making him tremble as you mindlessly clench around him. he squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his face into your shoulder blade, and his breath is hot as it seeps into your shirt, warming your skin.
“love, please,” he tries once again, his free hand moving from your hip to your thigh, curling inwards, unable to stop himself. “i can’t– i don’t think i’m going to be able to help like this, i need–”
“well, i need to study, kota,” you interrupt again, and although he can’t see it, he can hear the smile on your face, tainting your voice with a wicked sense of satisfaction. “and your begging is distracting. so if you’re not going to be helpful and tutor me, the least you can do is be quiet for me, yeah?”
dakota swallows hard, his mouth feeling like cotton as he digs his fingers into your thigh. finally, he nods his head silently, his heart beating so fast in his chest that he’s afraid it might pop right out.
“good boy,” you tease, and he drapes over you, pressing his chest against your back, whining against the crook of your neck as his nose nudges against your throat. “keep still, and maybe when i’m finished, i’ll think about letting you cum.”
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intellectual property of ©️darling--core. do not copy, repost or translate my works without my explicit consent. do not use my works to train ai.
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