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#so i imagine that line was a plea
octoagentmiles · 1 year
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bonjour I want and also 99% believe in there being a chance of above and beyond finally dropping the L word (lieutenant) on Kwazii.
here are my contenders for who I think could say it:
Barnacles: I can also 1000% see him calling him his "first mate"; mostly to humour him- but still. I can see Paani or someone else asking what the heck Kwazii does and for him to explain.
Tracker: This dude calls Barnacles "Captain" and "Sir" despite literally being childhood BFF's with him. I can vividly hear him in my head calling Kwazii the L word and Kwazii being awkward about it because he's the only one who does it-
Natquik: Less likely than the others, but I'm ranking him higher simply because I can see him being the one to ask Barnacles, and/or making a random comment about it.
Calico Jack, but he might say "first mate" instead. Other than that I can see him having a Moment™, where he's praising Kwazii and naming all the things he's done that he's proud of him for.
Tweak: Same thing as Barnacles; I can see someone asking, and her explaining it. OR—and this is wishful thinking—I can see her having a Moment with Kwazii as well, talking about responsibility or something.
Dashi: Responsibility Talk™, but Dashi edition.
Peso: Same thing as Barnacles/Tweak again BUT I can also see him like?? casually bringing it up?? if they were to have any character randomly say the word, only for them to never address it again—I can see it being Peso lmao
Paani, but only as an echo. ie: someone else says it and he goes "ah yes lieuten—LIEUTENANT???????" in shock xD
Ranger Marsh. I can't explain this one but I can feel it in my bones. and really that's all you need ain't it?
I can't see it being Kwazii himself at all—because I firmly believe the reason he's never introduced himself with the word is not because of some pirate reason (prefers "first mate", feels imposter syndrome bc of his identity, etc), but because he struggles to pronounce it. like how he has trouble saying "symbiosis" and "aggregate anemones" etc. Thank you for coming to my Tedtalk.
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midnightarcheress · 1 month
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cowgirl
a little bar challenge characters: simon 'ghost' riley, john 'soap' mactavish, kyle 'gaz' garrick, john price cw: nsfw, fem!reader, tf141 lusting for their teammate, idk there's nothing much
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"i'm not going on that!" you exclaimed, crossing your arms at the man in front of you.
the buzzing of a bar after a successful mission was a familiar sound for the task force. the glasses clinking, the chatter of old and new friends, the horrible background music, and the abhorrent pick-up lines would, weirdly enough, calm your nerves after days covered in heavy gear and harboring pent-up stress. or maybe the source of your mind's serenity was just the alcohol already flowing on your bloodstream, courtesy of the three tequila shots you were - willingly - forced into drinking.
"come on, bonnie, it will be fun!" Soap said, pointing at the sign propped above the mechanical bull, "besides, ye can win the hat for us."
you scoffed, glancing at the direction the scot referred, right after seeing another contender fall to the bouncy mat under the bull, followed by a string of boo's from the watchful horde. bold red lettering stated 'break the bar's record and win a cowboy hat!', tempting drunk custumers into fooling themselves for a measly prize.
"i bet she's scared," Gaz prompted, adding fuel to Johnny's pleas, "don't wanna be mocked by the crowd."
you rolled your eyes in response, "i'm not scared, Gaz, i just don't see what all the fuss is about. why don't you do it?"
"nuh-uh, don't turn this on me, missy. you're the one being challenged here," he retorted, earning a soundful hum from Soap, "tell you this, if you manage to stay there for a full minute, i'll pay you a twenty. don't even have to stand the whole three minutes of the record."
Ghost and Price stayed quiet during the whole exchange, unimpressed by the trio's shenanigans. they had endured too many drinking competitions, bets, dares, arguments and blatantly stupid ideas coming from the youngsters of the squad over the years, so nothing fazed the two superiors. underneath their apathy, however, lied a real sense of entertainment, illustrated by discreet smirks after particularly dumb comments - usually dropped by Soap's mouth.
"make it a fifty and we have a deal." you smirked, sipping from your beer pint. if you were gonna humiliate yourself in public, it better be for real cash.
"fifty if you break the record, how does that sound?"
after a second of pondering and a few too many glances at the machine's movements, studying it meticulously to engrave how to properly react when the controller jolts the apparatus from side to side, you uttered a hesitant yes, winning a cheerful chant from your friends and some whistles from the audience. 
you stepped on the mat and quickly hopped on the mechanical bull, adjusting your legs around the fake saddle. it shouldn't be that hard, right? the initial movements were easy - just holding on the chord and letting the laws of motion do the work. you didn't want to admit, but it was actually pretty fun.
eventually, the controller decided he was being too gentle and started picking up the pace, making your body rock back and forth on bull, decision that knocked the air out of your lungs for a split second, before you composed yourself and tightened your grip on the handles like your life depended on it. the crowd shouted gleefully, encouraging you to push through, despite a few snarky comments preying on your fall, just the expected.
what you didn't expect - and neither realized - was the way your teammates were reacting.
Gaz stood there with his jaw almost reaching the floor, being impressed not only by your sturdy grip, but mostly by the way your back arched when the machine tilted forward, defining your muscles through the skin-tight fabric of your shirt. even if you didn't endure the whole minute from the initial bet, he was willing to give you his entire wallet, just to watch you ride it again, and definitely not to imagine you bouncing on his lap for a little longer.
Soap, who has always been aware of your beauty, suddenly had to sit down after feeling his pants tighten at the sight of your plump ass jiggling due the repeated impacts on the bull's back, in desperate attempts to grind yourself. in addition, the tiniest bit of your lacy underwear peeking out of the dark jeans that hugged your hips flawlessly wasn't helping with his situation.
the daring smile that painted your lips, juxtaposing the concentrated frown of your eyes as you tried your best to not fall during an exceptionally wild movement, only supplied Ghost's cock with an overflow of blood, twitching at the view of your plush thighs clenching around the bucking machine whenever it defied your determination by leaning too much on the sides, shaking to make you collapse on the mat.
Price, however, acted as gentleman the whole time, just admiring your ability and strength to stay clutched to the unpredictable machinery. that, of course, was only until he got a view of your perfectly round tits, taunting the edges of your low-cut top and threatening to spill out at any given minute, ready to give him a real show. the adrenaline-filled flush that gave your cheeks an innocent pink hue, felt very similar to the sudden rush on his shaft that made your captain almost choke on his scotch.
three minutes and forty-seven seconds.
"that was so much fun!" your giggly shout and stumbling figure getting closer to the group was enough to snap the men out of their trance. they quickly took notice of your wide grin and the brown cowboy hat placed on your head, followed by the loud screaming of the public that just witnessed the bar's record being broken. 
"come on, pay up, Gaz." you said, sticking your palm to receive your well deserved money in a contained victory dance.
the four men glanced at each other, gathering the courage to speak up after your little performance that had them weak on the knees for a colleague. 
"didn't think you had it in ye, bonnie." Soap stated as Gaz reached for the wallet in his back pocket, almost considering giving you a fat tip for the spectacle. the sergeants were certainly doing a poor job in hiding the blush on their cheeks and small beads of sweat on their foreheads, consequence of trying to ignore the tent formed on their trousers.
your superiors, on the contrary, remained quiet and seemingly undisturbed by the previous scene, silently sipping from their glasses but still watching the chatting trio. only now, they wouldn't dare to get up and risk the others - specifically you - noticing their throbbing cocks marking their pants, yearning for the touch of your silky flesh.
after collecting your gains, you rapidly swayed to the bar counter, ordering a new drink with your sweet, sweet money, while the task force members ultimately etched the sight of you riding the mechanical bull in the deepest corner of their brains - saving the images for the great release when you all get back to base.
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okay this is my first official thingy i feel so silly. also english is not my first language so...
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fangirl-dot-com · 14 days
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🐾 Il Pawdestinato
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Bianchi!Reader (fc. Alexandra) Genre: Comfort/Fluff Summary: A disappointing fourth place as Suzuka has your boyfriend feeling down. Maybe all he needs is a teeny-tiny surprise.
So this is that imagine that I've been talking about making. Sorry, it's taken so long. I hope you all enjoy and I promise I am working on the next chapter of Reputations. I just think that since it's a smaller fic, I could do an imagine and a chapter for the week. Let me know what y'all want me to do!
You internally sighed as you watched the red car with the number 16 cross the line in fourth place. Anger started to bubble below the surface and you had to turn around for a moment, hoping that the cameras in the garage wouldn’t catch the sneer on your face. 
How hard was it to get Charles on the podium that his heart needed? 
The tenth anniversary and it seemed to not matter to anyone except your family and Charles’s. But of course, it’s Ferrari. Can’t give their driver a decent car or a decent strategy. When Charles is ahead it’s race on if you’re faster. But if Charles is faster but behind it’s stay in position. 
When were Ferrari finally going to actually put actions into their words? Or give their chosen driver the better strategies? 
Your blood had almost boiled over at the very distasteful words of Damon Hill when he called Charles depressed and emotion during the weekend. Sorry, it’s not like his godfather or your brother had a fatal crash ten years ago. Totally not that. 
Charles had to hold you back from seeking out the former champion when you watched the interview. 
But now, you just had to be there for Charles. 
Your hands held the helmet that the Monegasque would have brought to the podium with him if he had been up there. The helmet that should have been brought to the podium years ago if everything had been according to plan. 
But ten years ago, fate had a different story: one that didn’t include your brother in the narrative. 
Your high-heeled feet quickly took you to Parc Ferme to meet him there. You didn’t want to be too late. Multiple people in red parted for you as you made your way to the cars. The shiny helmet seemed to blind anyone who looked at it. 
Charles took his time getting out of the car in the P4 placement. His heart was heavy as his head turned to look at the wrong Ferrari parked a few meters away. God how he wanted that to have been him. His eyes watered as he started to take his gloves off. He could see the tilt of Carlos’s lip as he gave his post-race interview. He despised the driver for it. 
However, as he turned, a glint of silver caught his eyes. The Monegasque almost choked on his spit when he saw that you were holding it up. He all but ran over, trying to get there quickly before Max was called up.  
Charles held out his hands when he got close, however he froze when you placed Jules’s helmet in his hands. His own helmet was still on, probably him trying to hide his own tears. Except, you had let yours run free. 
You gave him a little nudge. 
“Go,” was all you told him. 
The Ferrari driver, now with helmet in hand, jogged over to the cool down room. The security around didn’t bother him, almost knowing what he was trying to do. He poked his head around the corner and caught a bit of the conversation. 
“And you were struggling with tyres,” he heard Max say as he watched the Dutchman almost give Carlos a cold shoulder. Max’s eyes widened when he caught a familiar red helmet peeking around the corner. He cocked an eyebrow but walked over when beckoned. 
“Charlie?” he questioned when he saw the Monegasque crying in his helmet. Max wanted to question him further, but something was thrust in his hands. He looked down in shock. 
Charles shuffled on his feet a bit. 
“Can-can,” he stuttered under the Dutchman’s gaze. He inhaled deeply. “Can you take this with you? On the podium?” 
He shut his eyes tight, not even wanting to see if Max rejected his plea. A hand came to rest on his shoulder and he opened his eyes just a bit. He was confused when he saw that Max was close to tears as well. 
Max gulped the big lump in his throat, taken back by what Charles was asking. If Max could, he’d switch with Charles in heartbeat. 
He tried to give the brunet a smile, but it came out kind of crooked. Max clutched the helmet close to his stomach, careful not to accidentally drop it. He looked down at the silver detailing. The only thing lacking on it was the Ferrari emblem. His eyes widened a bit when he realized that this wasn’t just an extra helmet from Charles. 
“I-I’m sorry I c-can’t bring it up myself,” Charles tried to justify, but he couldn’t get the words out. 
In the back of the cooldown room, Checo’s eyes were trained on the pair. His eyes slid to the side only to find Carlos not even looking. The Mexican wished he could hear when they were saying, but the familiar helmet told him everything he needed to know. He watched Charles back away and disappear around the corner. Once the red-clad driver was gone, Checo saw Max stiffen as though he realized what this actually meant. 
The second Red Bull driver got off the seat and walked over toward the Dutchman. He peered down at the silver helmet. He could almost hear Max thinking in the silence. Now he was the one to place a comforting hand on Max’s shoulder, as the Dutchman had done for Charles. 
“He trusts you Max.” 
Max only breathed in and nodded. They were quickly called to line up go to the podium. When the blond got to the top step, he made sure to hold the helmet where everyone could see. It was kind of like a testament to truly show that he was the wrong driver to be holding it on the top step. 
His blue eyes tried to find green in the crowd below, but he failed. Max even failed trying to find you. He deflated a bit but still held his head up high. Max’s lips quirked when he heard P screaming from below in the arms of Kelly. 
While Max held the helmet, really all he could think of is if he would have friends who’d hold his helmet in reverence if he were to tragically die. He’d like to think that Charles would race with a dedication helmet all race year long. He wouldn’t want it on Carlos’s helmet or Checo’s (but he knew that the two would do it anyway). 
Even though he was missing green, his eyes did catch a wide smile. He was glad that Danny was there, knowing the Australian had been close to Jules during his time in F1. 
Max had been so caught up in the anthems that he didn’t even realize that they had ended. Not wanting the helmet to get ruined with champagne, he quickly ran around to hide it behind the wall. He made sure it was stable before running back out to join in the celebrations. He knew that he’d have to give it back after, but for now, he could only receive sprays of bubbly. 
Charles’s head had been buried in the crook of your next since he got back to his drivers room. You could only rub small circles on his back, trying the comfort the sad man. 
“Why am I just never good enough?” Charles whispered into the silence. Your breath hitched when you heard the utter despair in his voice. “Can’t even get a podium for Julio.” 
“Charles, it’s not you. Please, never think it’s you.” 
The Monegasque only sighed and turned more into you. Your hands blindly reached for your phone. Once your fingers hit the cool case, you immediately grabbed it and started to plan something. You knew that the two of you were headed to Milan this week for sim testing and for the grand opening of LEC. But, you knew that you could make it even more special. 
You grinned as you made the plans and sent over a hefty amount of money, but it’d be worth it.
Hopefully.
A knock on the door had Charles sitting up straight. He quickly rubbed his eyes before heading over to the door. When he opened it, he came face to face with a soaked Max, who had slightly sad eyes. In his hands was the helmet. 
Max’s gray eyes swept over Charles before looking around the room. He gave you a smile when your eyes met. A quick nod of you head told Max everything he had to know. He turned his eyes back to Charles and handed the headpiece over. 
There was some awkward silence before Max coughed. 
“I’m guessing you’re headed back to Maranello?” 
When Charles shook his head no, the Dutchman was a little confused.
“We’re headed to Milan first,” was all Charles offered. 
You snorted at the short words from your boyfriend. Charles grew red but then offered a little more intel. “I have that ice cream thing.” 
Max’s eyes widened when he realized that it wasn’t just a rumor or a joke. Charles made a face. 
“I’m very serious about my ice cream Max.” 
Oh, Max guesses he said that out loud.  
The Red Bull driver snorted. “I wouldn’t doubt that Charles. Everything you do, you do it best.” 
Now, Charles grew red (but not of embarrassment). 
“Thank you,” he whispered, squeezing the helmet a bit tighter. You were still scrolling through your phone as they talked a bit more. You were just making sure that the place you were staying at had the correct accommodations for your surprise. 
It was only when Charles got back into his spot on your chest did you realize that Max was gone. You turned your phone off and put your hands into his hair and started to scratch lightly. A content sigh escaped Charles as he finally melted into you. You leaned down to kiss his forehead. 
“We have to get going or the flight is going to leave without us,” you murmured into his hairline. You had talked to Fred (more like demanded) about letting Charles skip debrief for the time being. The money in your bank account could pay for whatever expenses the Monegasque would be fined if he skipped everything. 
In the plane, Charles had curled up to you once again. When you made sure that he was sound asleep, you got your computer back out. You finished typing out your email to Doni, making sure that everything was in order for when the plane would land. You just hoped that you could keep the surprise a secret for a little longer. 
Knowing that Charles would be dead tired when you got to the place where you’d be staying for almost two weeks, you put him straight to bed when you arrived. He went down with little to no arguments and was sound asleep as you unpacked everything. 
Pulling back the covers, you were able to slip in next to him. As you were about to fall asleep, Charles wrapped his arm around your middle and brought you closer. His lips met the crest of your shoulder before tucking his head back into your neck. You put your hand over his arm and held it tightly. 
In the morning, you were woken up by the sound of a blender from the kitchen. You sleepily put your feet on the cool tile and made your way to the open room. 
Charles had his bare back to you as he was slaving over frozen fruit and oat milk. He startled a bit as your cheek came to rest on his shoulder. Your lips pressed against your favorite freckle that stood out amongst the rest of the galaxy on his back. 
“Good morning amore.” 
You always loved his terms of endearment in the morning when his voice was still deep with sleep. 
“Morning Cha.” 
Charles smiled as he heard sleep still evident in your own voice. While he pressed the automatic blend button, he turned around to face you. Your eyes were still closed as you looked at him with a dopey smile. Charles couldn’t help but mirror it, even if you couldn’t see it.
 He leaned down and placed feather-light kissed on your eyelids before moving down to your nose. The Monegasque always loved doing that as your nose would immediately scrunch after. 
A whine left your lips, signally to him that he hadn’t kissed you where you wanted it yet. He rolled his eyes and stooped a bit lower, his lips finally finding solace in yours. 
After three years, you still couldn’t get over the feeling of his lips on yours. Your hands slip up his arms until they locked behind his neck, pulling him closer to you. His own hands found themselves planted against the span of your hips. 
It was just the two of you in your own little world for a bit, leaving you breathless when you finally parted, smoothie long forgotten. 
Charles rested his forehead against yours. 
You hummed, getting his attention. 
“I have a surprise for you later today,” you told him. Feeling him tense against your chest, you knew he was immediately interested. 
“Like, later today or in a few hours.” 
“More like in a few hours. We have to get ready and then get going.” 
You and Charles quickly drank your smoothies before you headed back to the bedroom to get dressed. Teasingly, you swung the keys around his face as you walked out to the car, claiming that you had to drive because he didn’t even know where you were going. 
“You get to be passenger princess now my love,” you called as you climbed into the driver’s seat. Charles could only roll his eyes. 
He would never admit it, but he secretly liked being the passenger every once in a while. It gave him the freedom to choose the music and not worry about getting one place to another. 
Once the car got closer to the location, Charles had a sense of what was going on. He turned his head toward you once you pulled into the house. His eyes were sparkling (but you knew they’d get brighter once he understood why exactly the two of you were here). 
Charles unbuckled with you following suit. 
“Are we here to see Mimi?” he questioned as he held your hand, swinging it as you walked. 
You were digging through your purse with your other. “Something like that.” 
The doorbell was rang and Charles smiled at the sight of his friend. 
“Hi mate,” he greeted, pulling Doni into a hug. You gave the man a greeting when you had the chance. 
“Follow me,” Doni said, pulling you and Charles into the house. You could tell that the Monegasque was excited as he squeezed passed Doni and immediately went to pick Mimi up. You giggled, seeing your boyfriend turn into a literally baby for the small dog. 
Seeing that he was preoccupied, you leaned over to Doni. 
“Is he here?” 
Doni smiled down at you. “We can go get him.” 
You turned to Charles. “Love, Doni is going to show me a new painting that he’s been working on. I’ll be right back.” 
The only response you got was Charles kissing Mimi on the head and waving you off. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be mad because moments later, your hands were full of puppy. You clutched the blond dachshund into your chest. 
“He’s perfect,” you whispered, kissing the puppy’s head lightly, earning a little yap in return. You and Doni returned to the bigger room, still finding Charles enamored with Mimi. You snorted at the sight. 
“Charlie,” you said, gaining the Monegasque’s attention for a moment. The minutes Charles’s eyes were on you, he froze at the sight of the itty-bitty puppy in your arms. He set Mimi down immediately, but the bigger dachshund wasn’t offended. 
Charles gingerly stepped over and his hands hovered over the little puppy in your arms. His eyes met yours, silently asking to hold the tiny thing. You rolled your eyes and you gently set the unnamed puppy in his hands. 
The baby dachshund looked tiny in your arms, but now looked even tinier in Charles’s bigger hands. The Ferrari driver held the puppy up to his face and was met with a wet tongue against his nose. The giggles that resounded out of the grown man made you melt inside. 
After the right amount of attention was given to the pup, Charles looked at Doni. 
“What’s his name?” he asked his friend. 
Doni smirked down at you. 
“That’s for you to decide love.” 
It was comical with how big Charles’s eyes got when he finally realized that the puppy in his hands was his (well, you two would share him). Tears even welled up in his green eyes, making them look incredibly glassy. 
You cooed at the two while stepping closer to put your hand back on the puppy. The little thing yawned and snuggled deeper into Charles’s hand. His head whipped up so he could look at you. 
“I’m never putting him down you know that right? I’ll make him a little pocket in my race suit and he’s going to go everywhere with me.” 
You snorted. “I don’t think puppies are built to withstand the G’s baby, but I’ll keep him company in the garage. He’ll have Roscoe to play with next year too.” 
Charles stopped listening after you had said “baby,” his brain melting. Now, he couldn’t stop thinking about a future with you and an actual baby. That made blood go to different places and he needed to stop thinking about that. 
Doni had walked away for a moment and came back with a piece of paper. 
“You think of a name superstar?” the man asked, pen poised to write. 
Charles held the British-crème dog up to his face and looked into the boba-like brown eyes. He hummed as he put him back down at stomach level, still not wanting to put him down. 
“Leo.” 
Now that you snorted. “You’re going to name our son after your rival?” 
Charles paled once he realized and stuttered as he tried to make up an excuse. “Non, it’s like the LEC logo. The ‘C’ looks like an ‘O’ if you squint.” 
You laughed but nodded at the excuse. “Sure amore, sure. But I think Leo Leclerc suits him. Little baby.” 
Doni also laughed as he wrote down Leo’s name. “More like Leo LeHandbag because I don’t think superstar is going to put him down anytime soon.” 
You turned back to Charles, but the man was already crouched down next to Mimi, showing off Leo to the older dog. You facepalmed. 
“I am dating a literally child. First an ice cream line and now this.” 
Doni smiled. “He looks happy.” 
You sighed in content. That’s all you had wanted to do since Suzuka: make Charles happy. You couldn’t bring back your brother, but you could offer small hopes to the man you loved so dearly. Your eyes widened when you looked at your watch. 
“Love, we have to go. Your launch is in an hour and a half.” 
Charles pouted. “We’re bringing him right?” 
You smiled softly. “Yes, let’s bring our son.” 
The two of you said your goodbyes to Doni before heading out. Charles still wanted to be the passenger so that he could hold onto Leo for longer, knowing that he’d have to give him back to you once the launch started. 
“I still can’t believe you named him Leo after Max.” 
“He is not named after Max.” 
“Sure babe. It’s definitely not like Roscoe being named after Nico Rosberg.” 
“Wait. Lewis names Roscoe after Rosberg?” 
“Yes Charlie. But it’s ok. I can be second best to your work-wife.” 
“Max is not my work-wife.” 
“Whatever you say. Il Predestinato now has Il Pawdestinato.” 
“HE WON IN SPA, HE WINS IN MONZA!” 
“I swear Charles, I will take him back.” 
“LEO LECLERC IS THE WINNER OF THE 2024 DOGGIE GRAND PRIX!” 
“I’m dating a child.” 
y/n_bianchi has posted
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y/n_bianchi little Leo Leclerc ☀️
liked by charles_leclerc, lestappenlove, y/nxcharlie, and 4,204,096 others
leclerc_fam oh my gosh he's so cutieeeeeee
i_want_y/n do y'all need another one? cause I can bark 🗣
charliesangels STOP DID Y/N GET HIM A PUPPY AFTER SUZUKA????
lestappenlove not them naming Leo after a certain lion rival
brocedes2.0 reminds me of lewis naming Roscoe after Nico Rosberg
lecluv ice cream, a puppy, and a gorgeous girlfriend - Charles is living the life 😭
roscoelovescoco yous is goings to haves to brings him to the paddocks so I's cans meets new friend! ♥️
y/n_bianchi of course roscoe! I can babysit so the dads can do their thing 🏎💨
lewishamilton can't wait to meet the son!
charles_leclerc he'll be at Shanghai ☺️
roscoe&leo they're going to be the IT dogs of the paddock
leolovescharlie imagine having formula 1 driver Charles Leclerc and Ceo of a multimillion dollar company Y/n Bianchi as your parents
maxverstappen1 I like the name! 🦁
y/n_bianchi i told him that you'd say something
charles_leclerc HE IS NOT NAMED AFTER YOU
y/nxcharlie it's cat dad Max Verstappen vs dog dad Charles Leclerc
iamred_iamyellow choose your fighter
y/n_leclerc I'm just waiting for when y/n is going to show up with a ring
ferrari_fan when I saw I got that dawg in me, best know I'm talking about Leo
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muzansfangs · 2 months
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His kink.
Starring: Nanami Kento x f!reader; Toji Fushiguro x f!reader; Sukuna Ryomen x f!reader;
Format: short-imagines;
Warnings: nsfw, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, use of pet names, handcuffing the partner, anal sex, implied size kink, praising kink, jealousy, breeding kink, mention to pregnacy, language, dirty talk, hair pulling, dom!Sukuna, dom!Toji, dom!Kento, vaginal fingering, oral sex (reader!receiving), overstimulation;
Plot: You would do anything for your man. Even crossing some lines, allowing him to have the full control over your body. The moment you tell him to show you his kink, you watch in awe as his face lights up in delight and your body becomes a canvas for him to paint. Are you ready for him?
PART ONE | PART TWO.
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
Nanami Kento.
Creampie and breeding.
His teeth ripping the condom open made your thighs quiver, your legs spread wide opened in front of him as you stared at Kento in untainted lust. You were soaked, your clitoris throbbing in need, your hips bucking up in anticipation while he kept an intense eye-contact with you. How badly he desired you. You drove him nuts without even trying. If only you could know how desperately he wanted to breed you, to make you his completely, to mark you as his property.
Kento almost felt disgusted by his own thoughts, at times. He had such a high consideration of you. He kissed the ground you walked on, he cherished you as a rare diamond set in a emperor’s crown in a museum. You were not an object to him, you were the love of his life, the only thing worth fighting for. Yet, he could not help himself, but desire ardently to mess you up, to leave something his into you as a reminder of who you belonged to.
Rolling the condom over his length, eyebrows knitted together as a soft groan escaped his lips, Kento flicked his gaze towards your midriff. Splaying his hand over it, he gripped your hip with his other one and made sure to glide his cock down your slit. The pinkish head tapped onto your swollen clitoris, ripping a whimper out of your throat. It was too much, you needed him and you needed him now, at his worst.
Tired of not being able to experience the hedonistic feeling of raw contact, you spoke out in a desperate plea “Take off the condom”.
Your workaholic boyfriend froze solid, eyes boring into yours in pure awe, his cock twitching at the mere thought of nestling into your warm, wet cavern without any barrier to prevent his seed from spurting into you. His jaw was clenched, his head dipping down to nose your cheek reassuringly. He would have never done anything without your consent, let alone something so deranged, unhinged, so forward as asking for unprotected sex.
“Are you sure about it?” he quietly asked you, while your hand shot up to play with the base of his hair at back of his neck.
“I know what I want” you replied confidently, your tone dripping arousal and confidence. That was the last straw.
Kento raised back on his knees, a small smile creeping on his lips as he lost the last shred of self-control coursing through his veins. Unrolling the condom from his member, he loomed back over you, hands cupping your cheeks to involve you into a sloppy, passionate kiss that made your toes curl. You were his, in the most intimate and depraved way possible, you were his and his alone.
The moment you felt the head of his cock rub down your folds, you arched your back at the contact. Your juices coated his flesh, guttural groans rambling from somewhere deep into his chest, as you wrapped your legs invitingly around his waist to pull him even closer, to tell him you wanted it for real.
Flicking his gaze up to you, Kento pushed past your folds, the girthy head of his cock splitting your walls gradually apart, forcing them to adjust to the intrusion. He grunted, the feeling of your pussy clamping down onto him so delicious as you squeezed his length with every passing second. Kento almost faltered, the dim fear of not being able to last enough to please you both making him grit his teeth as he finally bottomed out.
You let out a strained moan, his pelvis squashed against yours, as you fluttered your eyes shut to enjoy the feeling and relax your muscles. As per usual, he took his sweet time in letting you getting comfortable enough to begin.
“You are so perfect” he murmured, kissing the tip of your nose as he rolled his hips slowly to earn another breathy moan from you.
You were ready, your were so ready for it as your hands glided down his muscular back, tracing the outline of his flexed muscles as you brought your lips close to his ear “Fuck me now. Fill me up, please” you whispered, lips grazing against the shell of his ear.
You were playing with fire.
Kento groaned, eyes closing, as he exhaled through his nostrils in a futile attempt to tame the ravenous beast inside him, roaring, champing at the bit of devouring you wholly to the bone.
“Don’t tempt me, love” Kento whispered, planting a chaste kiss over your parted lips. The action was paired by his suave way of pulling out of you, until just the tip was left buried into your clenching hole.
Shooting a languishing glance at him through your half-lidded eyes, your legs tightened around his waist and you opted for running your fingers leisurely through the blonde strands of his hair, tugging at them right before pronouncing the words he needed to stop fighting his own urges “Give me your seed” you calmly, soothingly said, watching in awe how your beloved man swallowed forcefully before burying his face onto the crook of your neck.
That was it.
Slamming his hips back onto yours, you whimpered, arching your back in pleasure and an ounce of pain. His hands rested at each side of your head, his knuckles turning pale as he thrusted into you with a rough, steady pace, eyes closed to focus on the squelching sound of his cock gliding into your wetness.
You moaned for him, inner walls spasmodically clenching around his length, as he pushed you closer to your climax with each stroke he gifted you with. Sweat beaded his forehead, the bed creaking under you both, as he suddenly grasped your jaw roughly to bring your face close to his one. You had never seen him this hungry for you, this feral.
“I’m going to fill you up, alright? I’ll fuck a baby into you tonight. Mine, you are all mine” he rasped out darkly, making your body shudder as you nodded your head in pure ecstasy.
Sticking up to this oath, Kento grasped your thighs, hips snapping down onto yours in urgency as he chased his own orgasm. Despite that, he still made sure you were fine, his eyes scrutinizing your face in search for any signs of discomfort, reluctance, fear. All it would have taken for him to stop and pull out of you was just a mere shadow of regret on your face. But when he found none of that, he simply captured your lips with his ones in a tender kiss, before burying himself deep into you and letting his sperm whiten your insides.
The action was so powerful that you moaned into his mouth, climaxing with him as your body enjoyed the bliss he had just introduced you to.
Panting, you stared up into his eyes, shimmering in sheer lust and love. You could read it all over his face, he was glad to have you, he was glad to love you.
Nanami Kento was glad to have finally made you his permanently.
Toji Fushiguro.
Handcuffing and overstimulation.
The clink of the shiny, metal handcuffs your boyfriend had bought yesterday being jiggled in front of your face made your cheeks heat up and you bit down onto your lower lip in anticipation. Your heart was thumping into your chest so hard you thought it was going to jump out of your chest, breaking your ribcage and running wild into a field of depravation and unknown shapes of pleasure.
Sex with Toji was unique. You had always been the adventurous and experimental type and his suggestions never failed to amaze you. Sometimes, you almost felt inexperienced compared to him, but it was all part of the game. You relationship was not a conventional one anyway. Expecting him not to lean on the freak side among the bedsheets would have been a self-evident mistake. Now, fully naked and kneeling onto his bed, you stared up at him with excitement and curiosity twinkling in your eyes.
“You’re under arrest, doll” your boyfriend jested, watching as you laid down and raised your wrists above your head, allowing him to slap the cold cuffs that would have bound you to the bedhead for only God knew how long.
You smiled up at him, quirking your eyebrows up in defiance, while he made sure you were capable of freeing yourself with a violent tug of your arms “May I know the reason behind it?” you asked him, albeit you perfectly knew what you had done to make him lose his temper. He had never really shown you his extreme kinks, not until now. But it was about time you learned not to mess up with him.
Toji’s wolfish grin was enough to make you realize how much you had screwed up this time, his tongue swiping over his lower lip to moisten it before he spoke our “Flirting with Shiu in front of me, purring in his ear like a goddamn cat in heat while I was in the back of the bar to fulfill the mission is rude, don’t you think, sweetheart?” he cooed, cocking his head to the side in a mixture of contempt and amusement.
You were in for a long, draining ride and no one was going to come to your rescue.
With your legs spread in front of him, pussy glistening under the dim light provided by the lamp on the nightstand at your right, you displayed the most innocent smile you could muster but surely not an apology “What can I say? I was bored and you were taking your sweet time in beating up that drunk shithead. I figured you needed a little push to finish the job and take me back home” you explained, watching as Toji laid flatly onto his stomach, hauling your thighs over his large shoulders.
He sighed, hot breath fanning your core, as he nuzzled his nose against your clitoris, enjoying the way your breath hitched and you instinctively tensed up, the cuffs preventing you from grabbing a fistful of his hair as you always did when he gave you oral.
“Such a little minx” he taunted you, darting his tongue out of his mouth lick a stripe down your folds. You were soaked, your walls clenching around nothing, after being edged for nearly one hour.
As you gazed down at Toji, his lips wrapping around your throbbing clitoris, sucking, nibbling, swirling his tongue around it to elicit sinful moans from you, your thighs squeezed his head unintentionally. Tears of pleasure brimmed in your eyes, chest raising and falling erratically, as he used his fingers to spread your labia.
“So wet for me, baby, huh?” Toji mockingly noted, before resuming his relentless attack on your bundle of nerves.
Electricity rushed through your body, little whimpers and whines uncontrollably rolling down your tongue and pampering his ego even more. Only Toji was capable of messing you up like that, to reduce you to a writhing mass of moans and sweat.
Your mouth hanging opened, his fingers curled into you, stimulating the spogy spot into your that made your back arch, lifting off of the mattress. He was purposefully aiming to break you, therefore you decided to push his limits as well.
“No, it’s not for you… It’s for Shiu” you taunted him, lower lip wobbling for the overstimulation he was putting you through.
You heard Toji scoff, before he plunged a third finger into you, scissoring them into you unforgivingly. Maybe you should have clamped your mouth shut, maybe you should have not agreed in letting him restrain your hands, but you were so delightfully overwhelmed in that very moment that you were debating wether or not to beg for forgiveness.
His eyes had darkened, his breath heavy as he dragged orgasm after orgasm from you. Toji did not care about the sheets getting drenched, or the fact that you were now babbling out a series of incoherent words, no, he only cared about asserting his dominance over you.
“I guess we’re done with that. But now it’s time to properly fuck some sense into you, baby. Let me fill that tight, slutty hole of yours” Toji eventually croaked out, a crooked smile adorning his scarred lips as all you could do was nodding your head and panting.
The moment his cock prodded at your leaking opening, you were ready for him once again and your desire set your heart abalze.
Safe word? Oh no, you did not need one. Defintely not.
Ryomen Sukuna.
Anal and hair pulling.
Sex with him was extrasensorial. Sometimes, he joked about how he was almost scared to crash you in the process, how he thought his cock would not fit into you, or the fact that if he was not overly careful he would have ended up splitting you in half. However, he loved the size difference between you two. You were so small compared to him and his large, calloused hands cupped your hips perfectly.
But the words he spoke frequently jarred with his actions.
Manhandling you in bed was an art he had crafted with maniacal carefulness. Possessing you, your soul, your body was his main purpose. Now, with his fingers tangled in your hair, tugging at the strands harshly to make you arch your back, you knew that what you had agreed to do was going to leave you sore for days, possibly a week. But this was how far you would go for love, for him, for satisfying his needs. Being his ‘good little girl’ was your natural predisposition. Or so he claimed.
“Damn, you’re hot like that. — he chimed, hands unceremoniously spreading your ass cheeks to check on your puckered hole — Fuck, I still can’t believe your ex did not pop that cherry” he sarcastically commented, smearing some lube over your entrance and applying some of it on his length as well.
“He asked for it. I just refused” you replied, glancing at him from above your shoulder.
His shit-eating grin made your stomach flip and you sank your foreteeth into your bottom lip to prevent yourself from squirming. You were excited, you really were, but his size had always been quite challenging to take. It did not matter how many times he had penetrated your pussy, or your stretched your throat, you always needed quite a bit to adjust your body to the impressive girth. The idea if that cock invading your most delicate and private area scared you a little.
“Damn, then the bastard would definitely be upset, if he found out his former chick has changed her mind for me” he proudly asserted, lining up his cock with your tight hole.
Your breath hitched and you did not get the opportunity to properly answer him, a pained, strained moan ripped from your throat as he began to gradually push the tip into you. Your knuckles whitened as you gripped the bedsheets in front of you so tightly you were ready to bet your head they were going to rip into shreds. Your eyes watered, you batted your lashes a few times to clear your vision, as he stopped and rubbed soothing circles on your hips with his thumbs.
It was so unlike him to be that caring. There was something in the way he gave you space, time to adapt to the new activity, to let yout body both enjoy the pleasing sensation and the painful stretch.
“Breathe, babe. We’re in no hurry. Relax” he tried to calm you down and you rested your forehead down onto the pillow to try and bid your body to follow his suggestion. You could do it, you really could and Sukuna had no problem in taking it slow for once.
“Fuck, you are drop dead gorgeous like that, you know? You are already doing so good for me” he praised you then, his tone dripping a confidence that made you smile through the barbed experience of the hour.
Taking a deeper breath, you hummed and glanced at him, turning your head enough to let him see you were alright “Go ahead. I can take it… I can” you reassured him, a faint but genuine smile gracing your lips as he squeezed your hips reassuringly and leaned forward to plant a kiss on the base of your neck.
“That’s my motherfucking woman” he rasped out, before proceeding in thrusting in more, grunting as he watched his member being perfectly swallowed inch by inch by you.
It took a while for the pain to subside, it being your first time playing a major role in the way things played out. He had used enough lube and he had even fingered you a little before doing the deed, yet, his size was not easy to accomodate to. Once he had began to thrust into you, moans of pleasure and whimpers began to take over. The dull pain was still there, but it was definitely worth it.
Sukuna knew what he was doing and you trusted him, holding his hand figuratively as he fucked you to oblivion. Jumping into the unknown scared you, but you had taken the leap and it was perfect.
AUTHOR NOTE.
Here we are with the first part of a project that had been haunting me for months now. The second part, which includes Suguru Geto, Hiromi Higurma and Satoru Gojo,has been posted! As per usual, likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!
Until next,
x o x o
TAGS: @brittscafe @doumadono @mrskokushibo @axesfordays @gyomeisfavoritespermcell @marinnnnnnnnn
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andersonlore · 3 months
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❝ TATTOO ARTIST!ELLIE ❞ ✶ ELLIE WILLIAMS !
★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, fem!reader, wlw sex, poc!friendly, switch!reader, switch!ellie, tbh loser!coded ellie, scissoring, ellie being soft and cute and love struck, tattoo artist!ellie, mentions of oral.
RAY RAMBLES ✶ i'm still feeling out writing for ellie, so be nice to me pls, this is the first thing i've posted for her. if not, i won't write for her again jk but seriously dont be mean to me
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tattoo artist!ellie who you meet due to her forgetfulness. her black, leathered notebook gets left behind when she meets a friend at a local coffee shop. there’s a business card of a tattoo shop and you decide to take your chances with it and call the number. thankfully, it pans out to be the owner’s notebook. she, ellie, has apparently been tearing apart her apartment trying to find it. her voice floods all over as she whispers thank you just shy of a thousand times, her grateful pleas drip like honey all over you, sweetening you right through your core.
tattoo artist!ellie who is stunned from the first sight of you. the outfit you have on isn’t anything special, out of the ordinary, not it really isn’t but she can’t help the way her eyes wonder over. you have some tattoos which are visible, adding to the draw she feels towards you. soft shoulders are exposed in the strapless top you’re wearing, but your pants are bagging, hanging lowly at your hips, exposing a sliver of your lower stomach to her green, greedy eyes. a new, sultry and velvet, voice speaks her name and ellie knows she’ll do anything and everything to hear it again.
tattoo artist!ellie who gladly walks up to you, accepting the her notebook, desperately attempting not to fixate on the tingle spreading in her heart when she feels your soft finger slightly rub against the tip of her thumb. your sharp, gorgeous eyes look ellie once over before you offer her a smile, blinding ellie to any logical sensibility. do you like her? are you pleased? do you think she’s pretty too? is your heart beating or your fucking chest? are you having trouble breathing like she is?
tattoo artist!ellie who begins to blush profusely as you compliment her tattoos on her exposed bicep with the muscle tank she’s wearing. ellie doesn’t think it’s anything more than you being nice, returning the compliment you gave her, but then you’re touching her. nails painted with black nail polish, shiny but chipped, accentuate the line work. ellie wants to faint. jesse is sitting at the stool on the front counter and lets out a small chirp of a giggle, ellie thinks about punching him in the gut, but it means she would have to walk away from you so she opts out.
tattoo artist!ellie who does something out of the ordinary for her, offers for you to come by next week, saying you’ll tattoo her for a discounted price, something she would never agree to if you weren’t so hot, god if you don’t like her she thinks she’ll puke. but you agree, with your touch still on her slim, but defined bicep. the smirk you’re sporting makes the auburn haired girl nearly faint. evidently, you know just how to pull on her strings. you step in closer to her frame, kissing her sweetly on the cheek and she’s just as soft as you imagined. i’ll definitely take you up on your offer, els. see you next week.
tattoo artist!ellie who is paying close attention as she starts the line work. you came in wanting it down on your back, so ellie focused her attention on preparing the ink when while you situated yourself. by the time ellie had turned around, you were shirtless the side of your breasts exposed as she began. mentally, trying to convince herself she capable of being professional and not thinking about your tits in her mouth. the longer it went on, the more you talked, and the bigger ellie’s crush became.
tattoo artist!ellie who sports a sheepish smile when you start asking her about her life, how she became a tattoo artist, how long she’d be doing it, what were her least favorite designs to do. you ask about twenty question before the one you really want to ask.
“so, no girlfriend?” you wished you could see her, try to gage her reaction, her facial expressions, a smile or a grime? was she looking at you like she wants to eat you alive?
“no, but why not ask me if you have a boyfriend?”
“you’re not the type. am i wrong?”
all ellie does is smirk, shaking her head and clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth obnoxiously, yeah she’s not the type.
tattoo artist!ellie who finished but not without difficulty. you love to talk, usually ellie would find it irritating when she’s trying to focus but on you it’s cute. she asks if you want to see it, and you simply agree. you turn your back to the mirror, your chest fully exposed and ellie looks anywhere but or tries to. she focuses on your angel sent smile and the look of glee as you admit how much you love it to ellie. or els, she tries not be too excited about how happy you are about it.
tattoo artist!ellie who isn’t sure how it happened, how you’re even into her, but she says enough of the right things to get you into her car and back to her apartment. you’re pushing her against the door pressed against her sinfully, peppering playful bites as ellie fishes for her keys. you follow her into her home, her tongue pleading for dominance over hers and she really doesn’t put much of fight.
tattoo artist!ellie who moans as you sit your cunt on top of hers. it’s delicious the way you have her putty in your hand from the initial grind. your clit catching with hers, her strong hands finding your hips, thumb with a bruising pressure, as pause. ellie is going to ask what’s wrong but before she can, you’re spitting on her cunt, a string of saliva, your perfectly wet concoction, halts as it travels down her labia and your sinking slick first, moaning out a soft oh, fuck, els you feel perfect.
tattoo artist!ellie who loves to watching your tits bounce for her as you slowly pick up the pace, the tattoo on your sternum perfectly placed between them only fuels the stickiness between ellie’s thighs. she lets you create the pace, control her to your liking.
“do you like to be, uh oh- fuck, choked?” you ask as feel yourself lost it, the smacking of your slick combined with her spurring you on.
ellie grabs your hand, placing your delicate fingers along her delightful throat, “what do you think, babygirl?”
tattoo artist!ellie who is quite literally getting off on getting choked by you. the light pressure on her neck, combined with you rubbing against her pussy hips falling over her again and against has her clit throbbing. you’re so painfully hot it, claiming her, riding her pussy, whimpering out els els els, make me cum, please baby, i’m right there. yeah? are you there with me, baby?
tattoo artist!ellie who comes right along with you. she swears she sees the creator from above for a moment, flashes of white cloud her vision as you continue to fuck her, pulling every last drop until it’s spilling over your cunt, it’s not until then are you satisfied. you collapse on her, your breasts softly smashed against her own, a whine leaving your lips, hot breath on ellie’s ear nearly makes her buck up back into you.
“c’mon, get this pretty ass up and arched. have to taste this pretty pussy before it kills me not to.” ellie whispers but the two of you know it’s not a request, it’s a command. happily, you obey.
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wanderingxiao · 5 months
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hiii can you write smut with wanderer having a breeding kink after thinking abt whether or not he could have kids (since hes a puppet)? so later that night he lowkey experiments and he ends up putting the reader into a mating press and turns her into a drooling and dazed mess >>>
thank you sm if u do it ur writing is so hearteyes
Baby Time!
Wanderer x Reader *NSFW*
Warnings: Breeding Kink, raw/unprotected sex, slight degradation, Wanderer being super horny, 18+ only please!! MDNI!! 💙
A/N: My first request!!! :0 Hopefully I completed your request correctly! I had literally so much fun writing this! He can fuck a baby into me anytime he wants 😳💙 Hope you enjoy!
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Wanderer couldn’t seem to get away from it. There were children everywhere in the streets of Sumeru city. Summer seemed to be the time where all the little reckless brats loved to get into trouble, run off, explore, or just be annoying. It bothered Wanderer in a way, constantly having to look out for frail humans that get in his path or help a child find their parent they decided to run away from.
Despite the annoying ones, he found the quieter more behaved children tolerable. Seeing a husband and wife raise a small human was oddly… arousing to him. It flustered him to no end how unbearably horny he would get just seeing a family walk by or a pregnant woman, his thoughts immediately imagining you swollen and pregnant with his child, or how caring and loving you’d be as a parent. One thing bothered him though…
Could he even have kids being a puppet?
By spending lots of time in the… not so work friendly part of the Akademiya, he began to look up ways in which he could potentially get you pregnant. It was there his undying hunger to fill you full of his sticky cum, see your stomach swollen with his offspring, and squeeze your sensitive lactating breasts began. Scholars would give him judgmental looks, but he didn’t care, as long as the book he was reading guarded his painful throbbing erection.
When the time came to see you once more, he took out all his frustrating uncertainties and sexual fantasies on you. You were sprawled out on his bed within the Sanctuary of Surasthana, legs spread wide with his sticky cock battering away at your fluttering cunt. His face was flushed with his eyes reflecting his overwhelming desire to fuck you so full of his cum your belly would be swollen with how much of his seed he would stuff into you.
“W-Wander- Ahh! Wanderer! M-Mngh! I-It’s t-too deep -ngh! Too deep!” Your pitiful cries fell deaf upon his mechanical ears as he smacked his hips aggressively into yours, determined to reach your deepest crevices. A grunt rumbled through his chest, his breath raspy and quickened feeling your walls begin to flutter around his cock so perfectly. It’s like you were made specifically for him, or he was made for you.
“Not yet. Ngh~ need to fuck you full. S-So full of my seed you -hah- bear my offspring.” His hands roughly grabbed the back of your knees, pushing them up to your chest before he leaned over your body to tower over you. Your thighs ached in dull pain at the uncomfortable position, and your body jolted with overstimulating pleasure as his sticky cock head covered in his pre-cum bumped against your cervix.
“W-Wanderer!!! Hah-! Ahh! T-Too much! Too- Ahh!! Too good! P-Plea- Hngh!” This was absolutely perfect. Your lips were slicked up with your saliva, drool covering your cheek as you couldn’t help but cry and drool for him. Your hair was beginning to get messy as he fucked you up and down the bed, your body sloppily sliding to match his brutal rhythm.
“Yeah? You f-fucking slut, you like that? Hah, being folded into a mating press by me? Ngh~ Fucking pathetic!” Wanderer groaned above you, his cheeks flushed with his forehead lined with sweat. He was determined to get you pregnant, going so far as to put you into a mating press to drive his seed as deep as he could.
You couldn’t even respond to him, your mind turning to mush the second he began to buck his hips faster, abusing your poor cunt with his throbbing cock. Your eyes were glazed over with overwhelming love and adoration for him, your chin now covered in your drool and maybe even some of his. The tight coil and warmth building in your abdomen alerted you of your quickly approaching orgasm. Wanderer could tell it too, the way your walls would spasm and tighten around him.
“You g-gonna cum? Yeah? Cum from me f-fucking you dumb?” You could only nod in response, throwing your head back into the pillows as the wet sounds of your slick cunt and his oozing cock collided over and over and over again. His forehead pressed against yours, his moans increasing as his cock twitched against your walls, feeling his own climax building up. He used his feet to push himself more above you, forcing you into a deeper mating press with his cock plunging down into your drooly pussy.
You couldn’t take it anymore, your toes curled with your legs trembling in his grasp. Your walls tightened around him, clit pulsating wildly as his pelvis smacked it with each thrust. With a loud and messy cry of his name, you gushed all over him, a creamy white ring beginning to form around the base of his cock. Despite your intense orgasm he didn’t stop, only heightening his pace to chase his own release.
“F-Fuck I’m cumming-! Ngh- shit!” Wanderer smacked his hips down into yours sloppily and spurted his thick cum against your cervix. His cock twitched feverishly, his breathing becoming more uneven and ragged as he rode out his high. His deep raspy moans died down to low whines as he fucked his cum sloppily back into you to, adoring how you practically milked him dry. He loved the way your body twitched with overstimulation, a high-pitched yet quiet moan spewing from your lips as his cum filled your insides. Wanderer only grinned, his cock twitching back to life as a new wave of arousal and lust pooled within his chest.
“Don’t give out on me now, slut… I still need to fill you up more. That way… you’ll surely bear my offspring. Hehe.”
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Hope you enjoyed~! ; ) 💙
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neoplatinum · 1 month
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til' death do us part - part 1 | minatozaki sana
summary: sana minatozaki walks right into your life with a marriage license.
pairing: heiress!sana x reader
themes: arranged marriage au, fluff, angst, tension, lots of elitism, conglomerate power-hungry side characters, implied sex
wc: 5.0k
(series masterlist)
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"the minatozaki's are waiting." you stare at the contract in front of you, frustrated at the idea of the family visiting. they sent the contract to you two weeks ago, and you knew that they were expecting a response, as in a signature. but here lays the contract on your coffee table, left to collect dust.
"let them in." you sit up from the couch, adjusting your shirt. you watch the maid let them in, timed steps in the long marble hallway. you hear their presence before you see them. then you see the matriarch of the minatozaki family step into the room. her head held high and proper, like a leader.
she reminds you of your own mother: the sharp tongue, quick judgements, and inability to let go of grudges.
then walks in sana minatozaki, the only heiress of the minatozaki group. she is not a stranger at all, but you havent decided if she is a friend or foe. when you were both younger, annual balls were centered around her. she always took those events in stride, while you enjoyed sticking by your mother's side.
you often remember watching sana dancing with anyone who would ask her; even from afar, you knew she was someone that everyone awed at. they treated her attention like a prize worth attaining.
"hello mrs. minatozaki and ms. minatozaki, please have a seat." you direct them to sit on the opposing couch. "how may i help you?"
they both get situated while you sit by yourself, feeling the weight of the minatozaki power firsthand. you watch your staff rushing to present them with tea, only for the two to dismiss them quickly.
"yes, we sent over a contract earlier last week, please sign it." the matriach points at the contract on your table.
"yes well, it is a marriage contract, a legally binding one. i need time to think it through."
"what is there to think through? you get to marry into the minatozaki group, and solidify your business with the backings of our family, i see no reason that it's empty now."
you frown at that, those were the exact words your own father told you over the phone, you called him immediately after receiving the contract, he told you the same exact thing, ending the call immediately after.
you dont disagree with the benefits, you would just rather marry someone else. someone that you could be in love with, not sana minatozaki.
"mrs. minatozaki, as much as i understand the power and backing of your family. i am rather old-fashioned. i only believe in marriage out of love." you nod solemnly to the older woman.
she lets out a trained laugh and holds her daughter's hands like they're her prize and tool. "love? you don't think that you could love my daughter?"
"mrs. minatozaki, i didn't mean it in that way-"
"so, what way did you mean it? my daughter sana," you say, watching as her daughter stands up from the couch, tall and proud, just like her mother, and smiling at you in that coy smile. "she has a line of suitors far longer than you could imagine; you should reconsider."
"mrs. minatozaki' please if i may-"
she holds her palm up, completely stopping you from speaking. "enough. here's what we're going to do: a three-month commitment. truly court my daughter for three months, and if you can honestly tell me you aren't in love with her, then i won't bother you with this matter for any longer."
"mrs. minatozaki, i think this is a completely archaic idea!" you exclaim, shocked to hear her say these plans. how quick she is to decide for her daughter's life.
"watch your tone. do not forget that your mother and I are well acquainted." she points her finger at you, and in a split second, she's back to that trained smile that is always so unnerving and threatening.
"i'm very sorry mrs. mintatozaki, please forgive my rudeness." you bow deeply at the woman. you return to your trained demeanor, letting mrs. minatozaki run your life for the next three months. who knows what she'll say to your mother if you decline?
both women get up promptly at the matriarch's signal, and you rush to walk them out of the manor. their resounding footsteps echo through the halls. the matriarch continues speaking of the three months of "dating," and you nod at every word in appeasement.
you assist them into their car, and soon they speed away from your manor. leaving you frustrated in your own driveway. by the time the sun has set, you finally return to your room.
--
the thought doesn't bother you anymore, while you were nervous at the idea of the minatozaki's pressing you on this marriage, you had gotten way too swamped with work.
in a week's time since the visit, you were giving a big presentation to shareholders and clientele. countless nights spent languidly going through the motions of collecting data for infographics and reports to extrapolate data. all part of your stressful day job.
a job that you take pride in, to take over the family business. dedicating years of your life to build the rapport needed for your father to put the company in your name.
you begin to wrap up on your final slide, indicating the prosperous quarter that your company has been seeing. beautiful graphics that display profit margins through the roofs. in every chair of that conference room sat a wide smile at your future projections.
"we expect to see a projection of 33% from our previous annual profits, along with more assets, and with the likes of a possible acquisition, this company will continue to flourish. thank you all for today." you conclude your presentation and smile to the many shareholders. they all stand and applaud you; you take a deep bow and shake hands.
the shareholders hound you, all gathered around in suits that costed more than the average house. they only bowed to the sound of money dropping into their pockets. so they push you, push your boundaries of how much you'll let them take.
mr. seki has always been the most persistent, asking for more money than he knew how to spend. so he stands before you, eyes twinkling and his grubby hands rubbing together like he found a gold mine.
you listen to him speak of the golden days with your father, business had little to regulations, making money was easier than breathing, but now he breaths down your neck for bonuses. the words travel in one ear and out the other, he forgets that you were a young child listening in to his discussions with your father.
before you know it, you hear that sharp clicking sound, the sound of sharp hard rubber hitting the tiled floor, you hear heels. short confident steps of a woman, and then you see it through the frosted glass, a womanly figure.
she's walking right into the conference room. then you notice the details: long brunette hair in waves, branded sunglasses atop her nose, a light pink suit adorned with blinding diamonds. behind her are bodyguards that tower over everyone. everyone's conversation stops at the sight of her, she stops right in front of you.
eyes strong and daring, she slips off her glasses and you recognize her, the woman of all your friend's dreams: sana minatozaki. more confident than ever, not being guided by her mother, she smiles that smile that you know your friends swoon over. delicate fingers slip off her glasses as she hands them to her assistant. eyes still focused on yours.
then she does it, grabs ahold of your tie, and slams her lips against yours. and you can hear it faintly, the sound of the shareholders all gasping, drowned out by the sound of your own heartbeat. the searing kiss lasts so long, like a time loop. when she pulls back, you gasp for air, choking and doubling over coughing like you inhaled chili powder. all your presentation material spilling on the ground.
"sorry to cut the festivities short, gentlemen." she bows lightly, an amused smile underlying her sarcasm. "my fiancé and i have things to attend to, i'm sure you know how demanding your wife can be". she giggles at that, letting them all nod, and disperse.
"fiancé?" you cough out, still catching your breath. sana grabs ahold of your hand and drags you out the conference room, and out to the elevators. you watch her two bodyguards at your feet, ready to intervene with broad and thick builds.
they remind you much of your father's bodyguards. but you never wanted them because it just felt so unnatural to be followed by men who protected you.
sana stands before the elevator, and without missing a beat walks in, at the sound of the door opening. you get pulled by the two bodygaurds into the box. now you stand next to a smirking sana and two men who could break your spine ten times over.
you exit into the lobby, all the staff rising to their feet at the sight of you and miss minatozaki. greeting you all, as you rush to follow after sana. you have a sinking feeling if you don't that those two men behind you are going to toss you right into the ocean. right outside of the lobby, is the sight of the signature black marked sedan. a true sign of a minatozaki. like the fortress of a family, this car is far than capable of withstanding a nuke, how true this statement is? you never want to know.
sana is quick to sit herself inside, being guided by her chaffeur. you nod to him before sitting inside, seperated by the middle seat. the door closes and suddenly you feel claustrophobic.
the last time you spoke to sana was years ago, back in law school, you never did like her clique but they were everywhere. so you have interacted with her through case studies and presentations, steering clear of the intimidating minatozaki group. so much for avoiding them, now you're stuck in a car with the exact person you were avoiding all your life.
"mother is furious." she comments, grabbing her heels off her feet, tucking them into a compartment. you stare at her for a while, confused with what she means. "well?"
"miss minatozaki, i thin-"
"sana. just sana please." she corrects you.
"miss sana, please, you cannot barge into my shareholder meetings and attack me like that. that was unacceptable on all levels." you continue. loosening the tie that felt like it was choking you when she grabbed it. you slip it off your neck and into your pocket.
"i thought mother made it clear her expectations. you sign that marriage license, and we're good." she continues to correct you, disregarding your frustrations.
"sana. i apologize but i have been swamped with work, i cannot even begin to think about marriage." you complain.
"work? you marry into the minatozaki group and you'll never lift a finger. those infographics you put together were cute, but the minatozaki's never put themselves through work they can pass off to others. marry in, and we'll find a suitable ceo the second you say so." she is everything you stand against, a figurehead as the ceo is the last thing you want for your budding company.
"i think you are mistaken, miss sana. this company is me, i am this company, that will not change if i marry into the minatozaki group." you don't waver for a second, conviction running through your blood.
she smiles at that, "you are one of those. the ones that are married to their work before anything else." she takes a second to contemplate this thought, what would you bring to the minatozaki group? profit, drama, not a headache that's for sure.
"i'm going to let you in on a secret," she leans her head towards you. "like how you are married to your work, i am married to wealth. doesn't matter if you have a million mistresses, or a thousand bastard babys. as long as you don't smear the minatozaki name, you will fit right in."
"i do not think so miss sana. the minatozaki's are adamant about blood purity, they don't let bastards live." you explain. she smirks at that, you've clearly done your research about the minatozaki clan. "miss sana, please, me marrying into your family would not beneficial to you. i am too concerned with my own self to be a pawn for your clan." you finish, hoping they will let this issue to rest.
"you seem to know a lot about our family for someone who isn't interested marrying in." her eyebrow shoots up and with the snap of a finger, the bodyguard hands her a manila folder through the slit of the window.
"once again, we urge you to sign this. i hope we become lifelong partners, fiancé." she winks and steps out of the car. speaking to the chauffeur, and soon you're being driven by the minatozaki car, another car ready for sana in an instant.
now you're left with a manila folder, weighing heavier than anything else in the world. when you are sit in your armchair with the manila folder, nursing a nice drink to unwind, you finally untie the manila folder. opening the contents, you find the same contract on your coffee table. signed with sana's signature in the bottom, and another paper.
in a written letter from your own father, you nearly crumple the paper in your own hand. the clauses of placing your company in the hands of your father, all shareholder signatures at the bottom. indicating the removal of power. in another line it reads in big bold letters, date sana for three months or your company will be absorbed by your father.
you call up your father.
"father, this is ridiculous, you cannot do this to my company. why are you meddling now?"
"you insolent child, given the opportunity to grow your business, you choose instead to be selfish? i present to you the opportunity of a lifetime: marriage into the minatozaki group. and i've been told you're pushing their patience." his deep voice rumbles into the phone. "my final words are these: you want your company so bad, prove that you are committed to the minatozakis, then i will transfer the power back." he firmly states.
"i don't even have the time, father. my schedule is busy with the new year and final changes with new clientele."
"i've already spoken to your assistant, all work for you the next three months have been transferred to my coo. he will take over for the time being, i trust him to run my own company, so don't you go spouting nonsense about his credibility." you bite your tongue at the sight. how dare your father meddle in your company? one that you built up with your own hands. the only piece of yourself that wasn't controlled by your father.
"do not forget who raised you. i can take everything away." his voice booms through the speakers. he ends the phone call there. and you throw that phone like a baseball, shattering the device into pieces.
--
so you do date sana for three months, finding it absolutely absurd in the beginning. often visiting her wherever she traveled. when she was busy, you would send out bouquets in your absence. you tried your best to date her, devoting time to getting to know her better. she's like you remembered when you were younger, loud rambunctious and had an eye for all things expensive. you spent trips all over the globe within those three months.
it's a strange feeling. letting yourself rest, you can't remember the last time you went on a vacation other than in law school. here you are, lying in a lounge chair on a private beach in santorini. drinking mai tais while you stare into the horizon. confused with your own life right now.
it should've been the merger. you get antsy just at the idea of your father's coo leading the merger, but what can you do. that company is not "yours" right now. while you are trying to enjoy the sight of the bright sun and clear waters, you watch out of the corner of your eye as sana flirts openly with a resort worker.
hand on his bicep, leaning in to show more cleavage, all the while keeping a sultry smile on her face. you're done letting your life be decided for you. you walk over.
"hi honey, how is it going?" you smile towards her, leaning in for a quick kiss. holding her neck in place, as you watch the man walk away. you let her go.
"jealous?" she smirks.
"no. i need answers." you sit down in front of her. "why me?"
"what do you mean why me?" she sips on her cosmopolitan, not provoked by the question.
"why marry me? my father is well known, but we are not a conglomerate group, why do you wish to marry me? i provide nothing to the minatozaki group, it doesn't make sense. there's the watanabe clan, the abe clan, the ito clan. i really don't understand why my family."
"it's not your father or his companies, it's you." she points at you. still sipping her drink. she doesn't skip a beat, no hesitation in her words.
"i hold no power on the world stage, you would be well off marrying any clan." you try reasoning with her, beyond perplexed on why she chose you.
"the watanabe clan are dirty: plagued with dirty lust, the abe clan are ruthless killers, the ito clan has been known to kill their woman. so tell me, how much better off i will be marrying them?" she continues. face hardened.
"i see...they are not as great as their name." you stare at her. less perplexed but definitely confused.
"we all grew up together, all the heirs, i know them better than they know themselves. and i do not like what i see. but you and i didn't speak to each other." she signals for another cosmopolitan, thanking the staff member and digging through her bag. pulling out photos of you two when you were children at the annual balls.
"you are worlds better than all of them combined. i could see it in the way you never vied for my attention. they all were intact dogs, hoping to hump something by the end of the night."
"sorry for the assumptions," you offer. the way she looks away from you, watching the ocean. and letting out a long and heavy sigh. she tucks the photos away. "so, marriage out of convenience? is that all this is?"
"yes." she nods.
you grab the contract from your bag, signing it in front of her. and then placing it in her hands, "to a happy marriage sana minatozaki, i hope you can handle my snoring." you laugh.
she grins at the contract, and tucks it into her bag. "then i hope you can handle my kicking. you groan jokingly and laugh loudly, her joining you.
--
minatozaki weddings were no joke. halls lined with marble pillars with gold accents. dishes made out of the finest and purest porecelin. waiters dressed in their finest, not a single hair out of place. global leaders and their children attending, even if they had no ties to the minatozaki.
the grandiose hall with beautiful mirrors dating centuries ago. recovered artifacts from the edo period, adorning the shelves. the giant minatozaki family crest on the back wall. with long tables lined with wedding gifts. you stand next to sana as the reception procession continues into the night. many notable figures congratulating the marriage. as well as the intricate gifts being handed off to you. each gift being placed and documented by the minatozaki security team.
the minatozakis look happy, wearing traditional kimonos and inviting all the guests to talk about their daughters marriage.
even though the place is filled with laughter and happiness, you can't help but feel like you just entered a loveless marriage. where you are destined to avoid sana, she smiles at everyone, showering in the attention, while you can't wait to get back to work.
--
you had explained to sana you wanted a quiet honeymoon, one that was peaceful and relaxing. so you both went puglia, to enjoy the rich Italian culture and the beautiful greens and blues of the water.
sana spent nearly ever second of the day buying herself clothes while enjoying pestering you. often times dragging you along to carry her bags, and be at her beck and call. she calls it "conditioning for a happy marriage." you had rolled your eyes when you heard it, but you wanted a happy marriage too so you complied.
now you stand in the middle of puglia, taking photos of sana, at her request. for the third time that day.
"how many photos do you need sana?"
"as many as i want. stop talking, more clicking!" you get back to taking photos and letting her enjoy the scenery. it's quite nice being with sana, she may be a bit high maintenance, but she doesn' t overstep when it comes to your boundaries. letting you enjoy your own alone time and venturing through the city alone.
sometimes you bring back flowers or a small gift to her, all of which she happily enjoys with a warm smile.
--
after the honeymoon, its back to the real world. in which your father happily returned the company back to you. the merger had been successful, but you're still catching up on paperwork that only you could sign. in the coming months, sana has moved in.
living together has become a routine. when she moved into your manor, she claimed it was a nice change from her home. you were confused because her house was far more amenities, but you let her move in.
so, every morning and night, you spend time with her, sleeping in the same bed, drinking the same coffee, and sitting at the same dining table. you don't share more than a few words with her, but her presence has become a nice addition to your life.
she's made herself comfortable, her makeup products all lining your sink, heels filling the floor of the closet. her closet so big that she ordered construction to build her own walk-in.
often times you see her out lounging in the sun room doing yoga or pilates. or when she's in a good mood, she'll join you in your study room to do work herself.
she goes out at night frequently, so you make it a habit to stay up until she gets home. you know she's protected and safe with her trained bodyguards and chauffeur.
it just brings you a sense of comfort to bring her inside in case she's unwell. some nights she gets home with love bites all over her body, other nights she comes home drunk falling into your arms. you never comment on it.
she comments on your life first.
"do you...have someone special in your life?" she asks with a glass of wine in hand. you look up from your table, eyeing her in the doorframe.
"no, i'm married to my job." you look back at the work laid out for you, pushing glasses back up the bridge of your nose.
"have you slept with a woman before?" you stop your work, putting the pen down.
"sana, are we asking about each other's sex lives now?"
"well i can be curious, cant i? you always look so proper." she walks in to sit by you.
"well, yes in the past i have." you comment, a little thrown off with the line of questions. she nods her head and gives you her wine, you sip it and place it on the desk. "why do you ask?"
"we've never consummated our marriage, don't you think it's time?" she leans over, eyeing the work on your paper.
"what happened to marriage out of convenience?"
"marriage out of convenience could mean we're sex partners out of convenience," she smirks. she stands up, pushing the paper off to the side. you raise your eyebrow, trying to get her to stop messing with your work.
"sana."
"yes?" she takes the glasses off your face. a coy smile on her lips.
"we don't have to do this."
"i want to. do you?" she stands in your way, eyes trained on yours. a playful smile on her face. you get up to set your mind straight, no way were you sleeping with your non-wife.
"sana, please, you must be drunk." you walk past her, calling out to staff. "hi, could you please assist sana to bed." sana scoffs at you, flipping you off and pushing past the maid.
you return to your desk, eyebrows pushed together and a headache forming. but you can feel that spike in your stomach, you're sexually frustrated.
--
you've been actively avoiding being too close with sana. whenever she circles around, you scoot further away. opting for open spaces where she won't make sexual advances. rejecting her isn't fun either, she gets all pouty about it, but the way she makes you feel lately, has been dangerous. so you try your best to exercise restraint.
in the coming weeks it's harder and harder. some days she visits with your dress shirts tucked into a pencil skirt. walking in like a wet dream into your office. you will yourself to have self control but you can feel it slipping. the way you want to grab her, feel her skin under your fingertips, wanting to wrap around her.
today she manages to get under your skin. "darling, you must be so tired." she slides behind you. and starts massaging your shoulders, pressing the knots away.
you let her, feeling the tension release from your shoulders. her hands move expertly, and soon you feel more relaxed than ever. her hands begin to wander, sliding over your torso and frame. you turn to look at her, playful eyes staring back at you. you pull her into your lap, grabbing her neck for a kiss.
"i think it would be rather impolite of me to have our first time here in my office. maybe later?" you offer, playing with her pencil skirt.
"i don't care where we do it, as long as we do it now." she smirks and plays with your hair. you pull her up and place her atop your desk. walking quickly to close the door and drop the blinds.
she laughs when push her back, back hitting the desk, and then you lean over her. giving her a long kiss, before sliding your hands up her legs.
"come take what yours." she grins. you begin unbuttoning her shirt, hands trailing down until they reach her hips.
you kiss her fervently, moving towards her like a magnet. "yes miss minatozaki."
--
you might have to label yourself a sex addict, maybe a sana minatozaki addict actually. after sleeping with sana, you can't keep your hands off of her. often messaging her and taking days off to be around her.
it's unlike you, so unfocused and nonchalant about work. but you can't help it, sana feels like a drug and you need your supply. so here you are in your study, trying to clean up the smell of sex before your mother-in-law arrives. sana's an absolute vixen and trying to coax you into another round, but you know at any second her mother will walk into the house like its her own.
you spray a scent over top of the room urgently before closing the door behind you. a clingy sana kissing you deeply, trying so very hard to get you in bed with her.
"sana, no. your mother will be here any second." you force yourself to be the bad guy, pulling her arms off of you. to which she flicks your forehead.
"sana!" the sound of her voice booming like it's through a speakerphone. sana immediately tenses up, posture straight like a board.
"hi mother."
"glad to see you still recognize me." her mother chastises her. you watch the two woman, and you stay quiet. letting sana speak to her mother in a hushed tone, while you stand nearby.
it's hard to get a gauge on sana's mother, she's fierce and demanding. you also can't tell if she likes you, she keeps her distance. but you also can't tell if that's a good or bad thing. oftentimes she shows up requesting your presence at her events. but you play the part well as much as you can.
the older woman walks towards your living room, where she was months ago, and requesting you to marry her daughter. now she moves around your home like it's her own.
"now that you two have been happily married, it's important to discuss the next step." she starts. "we need heirs, multiple."
you and sana look at each other in horror.
"sana was the only heir in her generation of minatozaki's, i need you two to produce more than a single heir. to protect the minatozaki clan." she states firmly.
you groan into your hands, horrified at the conversation. and for the first time you see the matriach smile as she shows off photos of sana as a baby, cute as a button.
it does make you wonder about having a little sana running around, so you take the conversation topic in stride. letting the matriarch discuss traditions, schooling, extracurriculars and education to maintain the minatozaki standard.
sana is horrified to hear all this from her mother, but when she leaves, a light bulb turns on in her brain. then she smiles at you in that knowing smile.
"honey, come on, you heard my mother. we have to produce heirs. you know what that means?" then she wiggles her eyebrows as she drags you upstairs.
and you let her.
--
a/n: sana, sana, sana. she's been plaguing my mind recently. hope you enjoyed, proofreading is difficult work so i didn't do it. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!
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luvs4jhutch · 4 months
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Night calls.
Fanfic type: Smut One Shot
Word count: 1.2k+
Pairing: Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ MDNI. calling names (baby, sweetheart), dirty talk, no penetration, jerking off and fingering. (I'M BAD AT WRITING ENDINGS).
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Summary: You find yourself alone in bed, yearning for more attention from your partner, Mike, who works night shifts and is often too exhausted for intimacy. In your need you decide to call him and express your desires.
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"Good night, kiddo," you said to Abby before turning off the light in her room. “Sleep tight” you added, and she returned a smile and a whispered “Goodnight.” You left, closing the door behind you, and headed to Mike's empty room. You turned the light on and fell into bed. Due to his night work, Mike had almost no time for you because when he returned from his shift, the only thing he wanted and needed was to sleep. And, of course you understood. The poor man had to stay up all night… but you wouldn't be lying if you said you needed more than just the kiss and hug that Mike gave you when he came back from that hellish job.
As you lay in bed, your mind racing with thoughts of need and desire and the lack of attention from Mike. You begin to fantasize about him, and you couldn't help but start to touch yourself. Your heart races as you imagine him kissing every part of your body. The more you think about it, the more you need it. You moan softly at your own touch, your fingers finding the spot that sends shivers down your spine. You need more; you need him. As you continue to touch yourself, you begin to massage your breasts, your hard nipples standing at attention against your palms.
Your need intensifies, and you close your eyes, imagining Mike's voice moaning and whimpering in pleasure. The sound of satisfaction that only he could provide. You need to hear those noises and feel him moving beneath you. And out of nowhere, an idea forms in your mind. You've never done anything like this before, but you need Mike's voice and his moans of desire.
"Should I call him?…" you ask to yourself, hesitating for a moment before picking up the phone. Your heart races as you dial Mike's work number, your fingers trembling slightly. He picks up with a "Hello?" through the phone line and you can't help but whimper his name.
You take a deep breath, your body tense with anticipation. "Mike," you whisper into the phone, voice shaky and needy, "I need you… I can't take it anymore." Your words are laced with desire, your voice shaking slightly. You need him; you need him to feel what you're feeling right now. You need him to know how empty you feel without him.
Mike is alone in his office, trying to focus on work but finding it increasingly difficult with your moans and pleas echoing in his ear. Mike's heart races as he hears your pleading voice over the phone line. His body responds instantly, growing hard beneath his desk. He tries to maintain control, but finds out that's almost impossible. "Baby, I can't come to you now…" Mike manages to say between gritted teeth. He can feel his cock throbbing in his pants, and he knows he needs release too. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't resist any longer. With a shaky hand, Mike begins to undo his pants, his mind filled with images of you: your moans, your needy voice, the way you've been touching yourself. He can't help but imagine himself inside you, feeling your warmth and tightness around him.
You're growing increasingly desperate, your need for him is overwhelming. "Mike, please," you whimper into the phone, your fingers moving faster against your sensitive nub. "I need you… here… now." Mike can't believe what he's saying, but he can't stop himself. "I want to feel you around my cock so bad." he groans into the phone. "You're such a dirty girl," Mike whispers, his fingers sliding against his slick skin. "I can't wait to feel you wrap those perfect lips around me." His hips jerk forward, mimicking the motion he wants to take inside you.
Your moans intensify, echoing through the phone lines. "Fuck, Mike… don't stop" you beg him, your fingers pinching at your swollen clit.
Mike's breath hitches at your words. "I won't," he promises, his voice rough with desire. "I want to bury myself deep inside you," he groans, imagining the tight heat surrounding him. "Feeling every inch of my cock stretching you out." Mike's hand moves faster, his cock leaking pre-cum. "God, I'm gonna fuck you so good," he growls into the phone. "m' gonna pound into that tight little pussy of yours until we both cum."
"Mike… please… fuck me," you beg, your fingers working even faster against your clit. Your hips lift off the bed slightly, seeking out the connection you crave. "I need you… inside me… now." Your moans become high-pitched whimpers as you imagine him filling you up. Your eyes roll back in pleasure, lost in the fantasy of him taking you roughly. You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge; the need for release is overwhelming. "Mike… fuck… yes," you gasp, your fingers moving faster around your clit. "I need…" "What?" Mike asks, his voice thick with lust. He could almost feel your wetness on his fingers as he imagined pushing inside you. "Tell me what you need, baby."
"Mike, I need… I need your cock inside me," you moan, your fingers still working furiously against your clit. Your hips rock back and forth, seeking some sort of release from the overwhelming desire. "Please, please fuck me." The need for release growing more urgent. Your hips jerk up slightly, seeking out the connection you crave. "Please, Mike…"
"Fuck…" Mike groans, feeling his cock twitch in his hand. He can feel the familiar pressure building inside, threatening to explode. "Hold on, baby, just a little longer." "I'm… so close," you whimper, your hips rocking faster now. "Oh God, Mike…" you moan, your body tensing up as you feel the familiar rush of pleasure. "I'm going to cum…" Your fingers dig into your clit, urging it to climax. "Cum with me, baby" Mike growls, his hand moving faster. He could feel himself about to lose control, the pressure building inside. "Mike!" you moan his name again through the phone, your body shaking as you feel your orgasm wash over you. "Oh fuck… so good…" Your hips jerk up off the bed, your pussy clenches around your fingers. Mike's body tenses and his eyes roll back in pleasure.
"Ahhh… fuck!" he groans, his hand moving faster over his cock, tightening it. He can feel himself about to cum, the familiar heat and pressure building inside him. "Oh fuck, baby…" Mike groans, his voice raw with lust and desire. He can feel his cock throbbing in his hand. "I'm gonna cum…" His hips jerk forward, his hand moves faster.
You hear him moaning and panting through the phone, feeling his pleasure vibrate against your ear. Your fingers, still twitching from their own aftershocks, grip the phone tighter. "Mike… oh God… cum for me…"
"Ahhhh…!" He cries out, his cock pulsing in his hand, hot, thick cum shooting out over his fingers and onto his stomach. "Fuck…" He moans, his hips jerking again as the last few spasms of pleasure wash over him. You let out a soft sigh of satisfaction. The line goes quiet as both of you catch your breath, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms. Finally, Mike chuckles softly, his breathing returning to normal. "That was… intense," he admits, his voice still heavy with lust. "Are you okay there, sweetheart?" You giggle softly, as saying a whispered "yes," feeling a wave of warmth spread through you. "I love you," you murmur, your heart fluttering in your chest. "Thank you."
"I love you too, sweetheart" he says back, feeling warmth in his chest.
As you drift off to sleep, your breathing grows deeper and more rhythmic. Mike can't help but smile at the phone. He's more than happy to keep the line open.
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onismdaydream · 2 months
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a collection of drabbles of jujutsu kaisen characters based on nsfw twitter videos
✧˖°. — volume 1 [ ft. megumi, yuji, nanami ]
viewer discretion is advised: fem/afab reader. aged up characters. unprotected sex, p in v, creampies, slight breeding kink [m. f.] | teasing, handjob, soft smut, m. sub [y. i.] | fingering, dirty talk, pet names, soft m. dom [k. n.]
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✧˖°. — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO (episode 1)
“baby,” megumi groaned, his hands squeezing roughly at your hips. “gotta stop doing that or i’ll cum.”
you felt so good around him, your tight walls clamping around his cock and dragging out low moans as megumi bit his bottom lip. lewd sounds echoed, skin smacking against skin and the squelching of your dripping cunt made the room even hotter. he could feel the sweat beading at his hairline, some of his dark strands already sticking to his face.
“it's okay. you can cum.” your voice is so sultry, so tempting as you bounce yourself on his lap, your breasts following the movement.
“‘m not wearing a condom, remember?” how could you forget though? feeling him raw was always the best for you, you could feel how hot his cock was, could feel each vein drag along your walls — and it's not like he ever complained about it either. but megumi would always pull out, choosing to release his load on your body instead of inside.
but you needed to feel him fill you up, wanted to feel him claim you entirely. “please, ‘gumi, cum in me. promise it's okay.”
“s-shit…” he breathed out, lips parted as he panted and watched you fuck yourself faster. you looked beautiful, so desperate as you kept whining and whispering little pleas. “can't. gotta pull out…”
but his hands were grabbing at any part of your body he could, groping your tits and holding your waist, not even trying to push you away. you could feel him twitching inside you, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to stave off his impending orgasm.
“please, wanna be filled. pleasepleaseplease,” you begged, practically crying for a creampie with the tears forming at your lash line. it felt so right the way megumi was deep inside you, you can't imagine him pulling out and leaving you empty and aching. “need it so bad.”
megumi wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you closer to him so he could plant his feet on the bed and thrust into you, setting a new and harsh pace as he chased his high. there was no way he could deny you, especially when your pussy felt this perfect. “shit, yeah, gonna cum, gonna fill you up.”
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✧˖°. — YUJI ITADORI (episode 2)
yuji couldn't help the way his hips bucked up, abs twitching and fingers flexing at the thin sheets underneath him. even with your thigh draped across his lap, he just could not stay still. every small movement made his entire body jump.
“does it feel good, baby?” you coo, fingers circling and rubbing over his cock head. the answer was obvious, a wet spot was forming at the band of his briefs and quiet moans kept leaving his throat, but you liked hearing it from him anyway.
“y-yeah,” yuji choked out, “feels really good.”
you hum, eyes flickering up to his face to see it twisted in pleasure. yuji always looked so cute like this, his cheeks flushing to match his hair and pretty lips parted as he panted. your hand continued to tease him, slowly drifting up and down his length, the occasional bit of pressure making him whine. 
you could feel his cock kicking underneath his underwear, each graze of your gentle touch adding to the damp patch on the fabric.
“you’re making a mess, yuji,” you tease, a sly smile pulling at your lips as you press on his sensitive tip. “look how wet you are.” 
“oh fuck…” he moaned, eyes rolling back and hips lifting off the mattress.
“so cute.” your hand moves down, cupping his balls and fondling them to make him squirm underneath you. he was so reactive, and it never failed to make you leak your own arousal. 
“gonna make me c-cum,” he gasped, voice hitching when you squeezed his shaft, “if you keep doing that.”
“it's okay, baby,” you pressed a soft kiss to his pink cheek, his skin warm to the touch. “you can come whenever you want.”
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✧˖°. — KENTO NANAMI (episode 3)
"you're doing so good, baby," his voice was smooth, deep in that way that makes you just melt into him, makes you do anything he said. though he would never take advantage of that. nanami was far too sweet and caring — too soft. but that doesn't mean he couldn’t treat you the way you deserve. he knew exactly what you need.
laying down on the bed, stripped down completely as nanami pressed two of his fingers deep inside your pussy, curling them just right to make you whine. he was still dressed in his work clothes, jacket discarded and tie loosened, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, biceps flexing in the tight material. he didn't want to waste any time.
"k-kento," you gasped, your hands gripping at the sheets underneath you, knuckles turning white as you try your best to stay still. it's impossible, though, your body squirming and hips rising when his thumb brushed over your swollen clit.
"i know, darling," his fingers resumed to simply pumping in and out of you, a lazy rhythm that allowed you to suck in a shaky breath. "but you can handle it, can't you?"
it's not much of a question. he knew your body so well, like the back of his own hand, like it's an extension of his own flesh and bones. nanami knows when you hit your limit even if you don't — and he knows when he can push further.
you nodded your head regardless, biting your bottom lip to stifle any noises as he eased his other fingers, stretching you out even further. the slight discomfort was nothing you couldn't deal with, especially when he pressed against that spot and made more slick drip from your pussy.
“such a good girl for me, hm?” his fingers were so much bigger than your own, reaching further than you could. they were covered in your arousal, too, glistening and shining each time he pulled them out.
you could barely think, could barely do anything other than whine and cry, with the nearly pornographic sounds of his fingers fucking into you. you didn't even know you could get this wet.
“look at you, taking my fingers so well.”
786 notes · View notes
sunarc · 3 months
Note
OK SORRY FOR THAT MANY REQUESTS MY MIND IS JUST WANDERING
how would nanami react if you suddenly you will start looking at yourself in the mirror from the side and touching your stomach, He doesn't understand what's going on, and when he asks you, you avoid the issue by saying it's nothing. One day he comes home from work and hears you talking on the phone with a friend of yours saying "I would look so beautiful pregnant" "I would love to have a child, but I don't know how to tell him."
HAKWHQKDHWKHE I LET YOU IMAGINE THE REST
🐧
I-
Panties soaked because of big breeder balls nanami
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Nanami dreams about a family. He imagines himself as an amazing dad, constantly catering to his babies, you included. When he first sees you gazing in the mirror he worries it may be a self esteem issue so of course he showers you in love and attention, telling you how beautiful you are, how he's desperately in love with you and can't see a life without you. This honestly makes you want a family with him even more because how can a man be so perfect. When he finally hears you on the phone talking about how beautiful you would look pregnant his heart flutters. He 100% agrees. Nanami is a man who always wants the love of his life to be happy so he's more than willing to make those dreams come true. The moment your free from your call Nanami is closing in behind you with his hands wrapping around your waist pulling you flush against his chest. His lips are pressing sweet soft kisses down your neck while he hums blissfully breathing in your scent.
"I think you'd look beautiful carrying my babies" he whispers the words as he presses a wet kiss to your jaw.
You almost cant believe the words that leave his mouth. You feel embarrassed yet happy with his reply.
Nanami's cold fingers run lazily across your skin causing you to shiver. His hand slips past your waist band so quickly you don't even have time to react. His fingers press into your core rubbing slow, teasing circle around the bundle of nerves. Your head is lulling back as your overcome with the pleasures of his touch.
"We can start now if you want" his voice is a low rasp.
How can you possibly say no to your loving husband asking to put his babies inside of you.
Like the speed of light Nanami has you in a mating press plunging himself so deep inside of you you're practically losing your mind. The only thought in his mind is how pretty your going to look with your round belly carrying his child.
"If it's a boy what do you want to name him?" his question goes unanswered
Your mouth hangs open with a line of drool dripping ever so slightly. You feel so full with how deep his is. Your fingers are digging into the sheets in an attempt to compose yourself. A string of loud moans fall past your lips. Nanami's praises fill your ears and you can't help the blissful smile that seeps onto your face.
"My beautiful wife" he groans "Gonna stuff you so full"
His pace is relentless. He's slamming his hips into you mercilessly. The squelching sounds of your hole would usually leave you embarrassed but you can only seem to focus on the hungry look filling Nanami's eyes. He has a mission. His eyes are filled with love mixed with lust as he stares down at the way your hole is sucking him, taking everything that he gives you.
"Fuck I'm close my love" he moans
His moans are like music to your ears. Your whimpers fill the room as you beg for his cum. Your pleas are all Nanami needs before he's stuffing your full grinding into you. Nanami pulls out watching his cum spill from your hole. Your trembling still trying to gather yourself. His fingers push inside of you, stuffing his cum back inside.
"You're being wasteful my love" he groans as he rubs his red tip over your cum covered warmth "Let me help you keep it all in"
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bahrtofane · 11 days
Note
dialogue 7 and trope 16 (Secret Relationship) with jude please
also congratulations on 300 followers my lovely, you deserve even more!! <3
Thank u sm for the lovely words i hope you enjoy <333
"ooohh you wanna kiss me sooo bad
Secret Relationship
word count. - 600+
watch it - Jude is clingy and does NAWT care
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"Ooohh you wanna kiss me sooo bad.” Jude smiles, leaning into your space as you back hits the wall. He stares at you, gaze trailing shamelessly down to your lips where he lingers there for a moment. He inches closer, so much so that you can smell the body wash on him. Minty fresh. Dear god.
You look around the hallway that you’re both in, eyes wide,“Yeah but not here.” You hiss, pushing him aside and walking away briskly.
He pouts, chasing after you. Pet names and pleas on his lips.
Ever since he landed in Madrid his sights have been on you. You were so kind and welcoming. So sweet. But timid. He thought you were afraid of him at first, if not wary.
Quick to duck out of the way when your paths crossed and never once starting a conversation. Turns out you just had a crush and didn’t know how to deal with it. And the rest is history.
After much pleading, begging, promising, and much compromising, he has you more or less.
Sure you can’t kiss him in public, hell you can’t even go out together, but he's yours and you're just as much his.
The media would tear him apart for having a regular girlfriend imagine if they found out he was with a staff member. You wouldn’t hear the end of it.
Besides, he likes to keep you all to himself. Just for his eyes.
And you want to keep out of the public eye at all costs so it works out.
It’s nearly empty around the training facilities today, it's why you popped in where you know he lingers around to say hi. He has other plans, obviously.
Unable to keep his hands to himself and begging for kisses. There’s cameras all over the place, you would know. You monitor half of them yourself.
You turn a corner to a dimly lit corridor lined with contraction supplies at each bend and twist. It leads to a storage closet, and you know the cameras don’t reach back here.
Jude follows, squinting as he has to duck under a few wooden boards and shooing away spider webs. Plums of dust curl around him but he follows. Even if he's in nothing but a white wife beater, shorts and slides. He’d follow you to the ends of the earth if you wanted. Just lead him.
You lean against a tall cardboard box, you think it's filled with steel beams but what do you know.
He reaches you soon enough, opening a hand out and you gladly take it.
”Where in the world did you take me?” He looks around.
”Super secret hideout.” You nod.
”Do I get a kiss now?” He tries, eyes wide.
You pull him closer to you, “mhm.”
He leans down, gently bringing his hands to cup your face, setting a soft kiss to your lips. And another, and another and another till you’re a giggling mess.
“Want to come over for dinner later? Mom wants to make you your favorite.” He mumbles against your lips, thumbs caressing your cheeks.
You eyes shine, “really? That’s so sweet of course I’ll come.”
peck, “perfect,” peck. Peck. Peck.
You say your goodbyes, and he pouts the whole way. But you kiss promises into his skin and he perks up. Excited to have you for dinner.
What a man. You can’t wait to see Denise. She’s so sweet to you. Jude is a bonus you suppose (you love him so so much).
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wroteclassicaly · 1 year
Note
so, like, my horny steve thot is almost always the same: i just love the idea of his cock being sooo uncommonly long and girthy that he has to take his sweet time getting you ready and even tho he makes you cum on four fingers and his tongue twice, he still can only fit about half of his cock inside you before you’re crying (crying for more? crying for less? you don’t even know … you’re crying for more probably) :(((( hehe
I know this is way more than a Steve thot, but I do hope you like it anyways? Hehe, thanks so much for sending it in, my dear Cece! I tweaked it a little bit ;)
Note: My vaginismus having ass could not take Steve’s monster very easily (if at all), but this is nice to think about. And I felt like having trouble, even with prep from four fingers (my god, I struggle with sometimes one and definitely two) — is relatable af!
Warnings: Language, smut, NSFW, touches on sub space a little bit, mentions oral sex, handjobs, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, and the reader has a hard time taking Steve, so there’s significant pain. I think that about covers it?
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Sometimes you felt as if you were floating. Higher than the tallest cliff hanging off the quarry, rocks jagged and waters a deep, enriching blue, rippling in velvet serenity. Your particles could be scattered to the Midwest winds and you’d have yet to realize, halfway through time — maybe even space…? It happens more and more frequently now, tonight is no different.
You shift, one jut of your knee that slides into a slippery sloping press, his wiry leg hairs tickling your calf. He moves, widening your right thigh, your ankle sliding across your rose colored bed sheets, and back behind his slender form, where he’s kneeling in front of you. An electric heat flows so hot between your legs that the cool air rushing in hurts. You fist your own fingers into your air, massaging, tugging, neck stretching to expose the delicate tendons that run up your throat — ones he’s littered in his claims. God if he could suck them raw, nip the sore flesh into his teeth, enough that you whimper again, opening yourself just the way he needs you to…
Your arm is still thrown above your head, the outline of your forearm pressing into your pillow, your kiss-swollen lips shiny with spit and dormant pleas that he’d heard not long ago. He’s tried to say a few words, even used his palm to push down on your abdomen, still four knuckles deep into your soaking wet pussy. It’s to no avail, your eyes completely glassy, lash line soaked, gaze fucked over and reaching outer limits — a place he can only imagine what’s it like (from your perspective, anyways). He knows this path you go head first into. The books and magazines he had read a long time ago in his High School days mentioned how sex is obviously different for girls, how they can experience things more intensely sometimes.
But nothing could’ve prepared him for this. The very first time it happened coincided with a two hour long foreplay. Steve remembers it like the back of a Farrah Fawcet spray canister. He was prepping you to take him — all nerves and mangled, panting breaths. One finger and his mouth on your neck, two found his lips sucking underneath your jaw line and crooking against that spot just right, three had you stifling whimpers into his neck and riding his splayed palm that stayed drenched, and four… Well, four was an unremarkable set of attempts that took up the better part of the second hour.
You’d done it with Steve’s patience, his languid coaxing. And when you had berated yourself for being unable to take it much past the tip of the fourth, he’d slid between your legs and lifted them apart, his tongue finding your creamy opening and helping himself. You lost count on how many fuses he’d lit and caused to explode, only touching your senses upon hearing Steve hiss out a yes when his fourth finger easily joined the other three. It took a few minutes with him talking to you, high on a raspy ease, a delicious chorus of praises pouring off his lips — then you were back. Some sort of transitioning space, Robin had told him when he couldn’t help but to ask, wondering if it was too much for you.
And that fed into Steve’s addiction to satiate his hunger for seeing you in such an uncaring, completely melted state. All because of him.
He grabs your chin with a calloused thumb and pointer finger, pinching to tilt, your lips catching his and separating in an easy smack. His nose tucks into your cheek, another glide of his mouth, four fingers turning back into three and a stretch, and you inhale sharply — everything coming back into focus. Your breath is winded, bosom heaving and nipples dragging across his tufts of chest hair. He’s so fucking warm, his freckle splattered skin stained red with flush, his aftershave sinking into the corners of your mouth, stubble tickling your chin, and inky pupils littered with cinnamon rings. His brows pinch together, pearly white teeth grinning lazily as he presses another kiss to your mouth the moment that you sigh into a shared breath.
“Welcome back, baby.”
His free hand reaches for your forearm above your head, fingers sliding along damp and salty skin, tickling across your palm and lacing with your own digits — squeezing.
“Mhm. Stevie…” His thick fingers buried in that scorching mess between your thighs is suddenly on the forefront. Holy shit he’d gone to town on you. The evidence has slicked down your ass and onto the bed sheets, that’s no secret.
“I tap out again for a second? Fuck, you’re so good.” You coo at him, enjoying how his eyes light up in a mirth unmatched.
He hooks your right leg around his lower waist, leaving the other lowered to where you’ve got it propped. His eyes find yours and he drinks you in as he pulls his fingers from you slowly, both of you letting out a choked moan. His thumb pad caresses your clit, his digits smacking your cunt and scattering some arousal. You jump, toes curling, digging into his waistline.
“Shit, honey, let me taste you first.” He’s teasing, smirking that Steve Harrington smirk, popping his sopping fingers into that plush mouth, making a real diabolical show of it.
You practically chase his touch, eager to sample yourself — whatever he’ll let you have. He wiggles his shiny fingertips and barely touches your bottom lip, teasing you, making you raise up — the action causing his very prominent erection to nudge your folds. You jump a little, that instinctual preparation that promises a very defining pain — working its way to the forefront. Steve shakes his head and swipes his fingers across your mouth, planting them on your hip to massage in soothing circles. You’re so fucking wet that you’ve already soaked him, and that makes holding back from taking what he wants that much harder.
“Easy, okay? Haven’t even tried to put it in yet. You know I’ll always ask you before I do, right?”
You nod, breathing in a few self-comforting breaths. It’s not that you’re terrified of the pain. Hell, your little kinky ass indulges in it most of the time, but there’s also that percentage that is nervous, that worries about how much it usually does hurt, (despite many orgasms and lubrication), or if you won’t be able to take him at all this time. His walnut strands tickle your cheek as he descends to nuzzle your nose with his own, reassuring hand still on your hip.
“You want it like this tonight?”
You nearly combust on the spot, body bowing to a magnetizing nostalgia of various positions he’d fucked you in; nice and deep, or ever-so-slow and fucking filthily. You can almost taste his sweat from thrusts he’s yet to initiate, feel the goosebumps pepper your flesh as his silky mane tickles your forehead, maybe even your neck and shoulder (it all depends on which way he has you, really). You aren’t quick enough to draw in your timid answer, starting to slip again, preparing to drift and seek him out. His fingers leave your hip and pull down on your bottom lip, releasing it with a plop as the digits head towards your jaw — strumming a slow scrape. “Babe?” He’s amused, questioning. “How do you want me?”
“I..” And your throat feels like it’s overworked, yet you’ve barely spoken. It drips with elated exhaustion, slowly clambering upright. “Right where you are. Get the stuff, honey.” You flip his nickname for you back onto him, and it has a reaction that crashes into his chest, making it swell in size for you.
He nods immediately, the hand that’s holding yours — leaving, but only to work open the bedside drawer in haste, fumbling clumsily as he decides to capture your bottom lip between his teeth — leaving little love pecks as an after motion. You can barely leave his mouth, his neck straining and flushed bright red, caked in sweat. He rolls back on his haunches, his heavy cock bobbing against his stomach and leaving a connective trail of your slick and his pre-cum to both, your thighs and his.
“Jesus,” he mutters in awe. You’re always so wet for him.
You do shift a little, relaxing your legs around his lower back and connecting your ankles. He has the lube bottle in hand, cracking its lid and wiggling his brows at you. A silent signal not missed, you present your palm and he squeezes out a good amount of gel in, tossing it onto the nightstand beside your head. And fuck, you really wish you had your Polaroid right now, because watching him inhale through clenched teeth, toned waist giving into a bunch, and licking a sharp swipe of his tongue across his lips, the moment that your hand is reaching forward to take him in your grasp — it’s forever seared into your pitiful, Steve-stamped retinas. Screw your pupils, might as well be little Steve’s there instead.
His breath trembles, caressing his tongue, body unprepared as your fingertips tap a tempo up his shaft, barely grazing, before moving back down again. His cock twitches, jumping in your hand, and that’s the moment that you take your chance and wrap your fist around him. He falls forward on hefty palms, fingers splayed beside your head, bunching your sheets in a white knuckled grip. This is one of the parts that you absolutely go to the outer limits for.
He mouths at your jugular, nose pathing up your neck and dragging across your chin until he’s able to kiss you and pant against your lips. “That’s it, baby. Use it however you want to. S’ all yours. Don’t need to be afraid of it. ”
That first sticky contact where he’s finally parting your folds turns you into a babbling mess, a wanton whimper tangled at your tongue’s tip. The fingernail of Steve’s thumb scrapes at your chin, tugging and encouraging your sounds to spill free. When you oblige, he slides that very digit into your mouth and presses, salt, his saliva, and your own musky essence pouring over your taste buds.
“That’s my good girl — shit!” You roll your tongue around his finger and take him down to the knuckle, your fist gliding across his length at an easy rhythm in a simultaneous thievery.
“Monster madness.” You whisper, letting your tongue flick around his thumb, before releasing.
He meets your mouth in a shared grin — all teeth, light laughs. “So I own a monster and a python, huh?” He winds your hair back behind your ear and you know it’s almost time. Your grip on him has loosened a little.
You share a heavy stare, a connection that doesn’t falter, even through one raise of his bushy brows. You watch in a marveling, drool-lathered wonder as the tendons in his wrist flex when his fingers separate, pushing your folds apart. They disconnect with an audible squelch, making you grip him tightly again — squeezing. A diagram-deep groan punches through his esophagus and claws its way from his mouth. “Oh. Fucking do somethin’, honey. Please…”
His voice sounds wet, like a hurricane is rising inside his lungs, battering his insides, and threatening to flood his throat — a desperation that finds an adjoining link within your own desires. As he still holds you open, you bring his purpling tip to your swollen clit, and with a blinking of newly tear stained lashes — you use him. He couldn’t stop it if he tried, another beading escaping him and helping the friction you’ve begun to stimulate you both with. Your knee jerks and he thrusts into your hand, his thick, full balls catching on your ass, your wetness having found a home there too. It’s all too messy to comprehend a clean up. And he doesn’t want to, if he’s being honest.
“Baby, you have the prettiest clit. God it feels so good, you know that? Don’t stop for me.” He’s shaking in his forearms, biceps rattled, muscles caving in. He’s not even inside of you yet and he’s already drenched and throbbing, about to blow his load.
Luckily, you know him as well as he knows you. And you release, quickly lifting your ass in a slight wiggle, legs still locked and now wound around his lower back. You give him one pleading command. “Split me open, Stevie.”
He takes an intoxicating initiative, finding your left hand to hold on tight, fingers leaving your cunt and wrapping around his glistening base, curls matted with your cream. This isn’t gonna last long. “Need more lube, baby?” He checks one last time, your head shaking
You’re fucking warm and soft when he drags his dick through the seam of you, teasing, slapping your inner thigh, your clit, finally teasing his head to that ring of nerves. “Fuck.” His hand lifts on your hand, knuckles smashing into your pillow case, palms held and fitted. You’re relaxed enough that you’re close to sucking him right in, and as soon as the head pops past your opening, he sees your eyes fill with tears. You dig your nails into the top of his hand, scratching, nearly breaking skin. What comes out of your mouth before he can say anything shocks him.
“H-hold on. Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum.”
Steve’s lips find your neck and they suck, bite, licking clean the evidence of a beginning claim. He has to stop himself from fucking you up the bed at this new knowledge. “Oh yeah? Feels that good?”
“Just go slow.” You whimper into a kiss he bestows, tongue greedily slinking into his mouth to take what you want.
He sees what you mean when he presses in a little more and is flooded with a fresh wave of cream, his eyes rolling back and clouding over. And that’s the moment he knows that he has to check in, because you sniffle. There it is.
“Honey? You alright?”
You’re trying to say you are, but it comes out as a broken “mhm” and you lick your lips, eyes focusing on the ceiling, sclera burning. It fucking stings, your body is telling you what it knows — that it’s gonna be too much, that you’ll be sore. But he’s so warm, so heavy inside, and he isn’t even completely there. You try to shove your hips and seek out more, only to be rebuffed. “Baby…” he warns, composure tilting over that precipice, wavering.
And the air changes, your body goes light, and that’s it.
“Come here.” Your hand that’s unheld, is digging into his hair, its soft strands becoming rising waves in the gaps between your fingers, tumbling over yourself to get to his mouth.
His knees help keep him above you, or else he’d collapse. You breathe in deep, releasing it against his lips when you part, your nipples prodding at his slippery flesh. Smashing your nose into his own, he nudges, he shifts, and you’re caught — his thick cock sinking into you. It’s not even half, but you cling to Steve through gasping cries and tear splattered lips, everything aching and throbbing. Your heart is racing so hard that you’re sure your bones are being dusted to ash.
Despite the nearly unbearable fire his size carries, your body welcomes him halfway in without anything else needed. Steve pauses, not just for you, but for himself and the ridiculous choppiness that he can’t even call breathing. He lifts your combined hands and kisses each finger, making you tighten around him and his hips shove forward. You both curse and he apologizes, to no avail. You’ve begun to beg him, and he thinks he might be in his own transitioning space.
“Honey — Baby, hold on, m’ tryna make it better for you.”
“More, I want it all, S-Steve… Don’t stop!”
“But you’re tensing on me —“
“Please, oh god, please — Steve!”
His control vanishes and his closed fist reaches the bottom of your folds as he helps himself push the rest of the way in — in two swift, squelching glides. His tip finds that spot right away, settled like a flesh tight glove, and it sets off a series of sparks, your throat barely able to let out a scream before your release squirts from your cunt and reaches the happy trail scattered around Steve’s navel. Yep, it’s over. He pulls your linked hands up and drapes them by his neck, pumping his hips on one good time, forehead sticking to yours, eyes wide and lips parted in disbelief, and he comes. Your exposed hands that aren’t together, they find one another and match the other two, lacing, pieced just right.
Steve crumbles and collapses on you, your breasts dripping with combined exertion, his pulse racing to stabilize, face burrowing on the swell of your chest. It’s a few silent moments — his cock softening inside you, your cunt brimming with his warm spend, and then he’s looking up at you from his spot. That five o’clock shadow surrounds his mouth, his pupils trying to normalize, and fuck — his own eyes have spilled moisture. Every freckle and mole is visible, his easy grin and silent apology starting, but you brush the hair of his forehead, enjoying his reddened cheeks.
“I love you, honey. Are you okay? Want me to—“ His own voice sounds discombobulated.
“Stay a little while with me, like this? Inside?” Is your airy soft response.
And now, now you think that Steve will be floating over the quarry with you. Particles that fuse together. Of time and space.
// eat me paragraph //
2K notes · View notes
risingoftime · 4 months
Text
home sweet home
⤷ mafia!coriolanus snow x housewife!reader: Coriolanus comes home after a long day at work and needs some tlc.
contains: smut mdni 18+, coriolanus being horny af, blood, unprotected sex, p in v, voyeurism, choking, oral (reader receiving), slight orgasm denial, fingering, possessive behaviour, overstimulation, breeding kink? body worshipping? porn no plot.
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a/n: lowkey want to write a modern mafia!au series fic of coriolanus snow x reader.
You had just finished mashing the potatoes in the kitchen when the alarm went off on the cuckoo bird timer on your countertop. It was time to take out the whole chicken cooking in the oven. Grabbing your mitts, you took the perfectly roasted chicken to cool on the rack before you heard your name being yelled from the front foyer.
"Honey, I'm home!" Coriolanus called out. His henchmen stood not too far behind, straight-faced and unfazed by his theatrics.
Coriolanus Snow, the most wanted mafia boss in Panem, is a man of power, feared and respected by all. His name invokes terror, and his empire spans the city. Coriolanus was known for his ruthless tactics and cold-heartedness, a force to be reckoned with. But, hidden beneath his hardened exterior is a deviant soul inexplicably drawn to you. And he wasn't timid about it. Your heart still skipped a beat whenever Coriolanus had returned home safely, given his line of work.
When you walked to the front door, Coriolanus stood in his glory in an impeccably tailored suit. His platinum blonde hair was slicked back with no sign of his curls, giving you a clear view of his blue eyes and face. The white rose pinned to his blazer was stained with crimson red blood splatters that painted his white dress shirt into a deep rustic red, blood that partially dried—the only indication of what his day entailed as Coriolanus smiled brightly at the sight of you. Everything else about him remained clean-cut. He resembled what you would imagine an angel of death in a suit.
"Busy day?" you asked.
"Things got a bit messier than I had anticipated, but nothing that I can't handle," Coriolanus unbuttoned his dress shirt and removed his blazer before handing the items to the hired help. The maid offered him a hot sanitization cloth to wipe his hands, and he gladly accepted. Then he pulled you closer to him into a tight embrace, pushing his muscular frame against yours. Coriolanus's hard cock pressed into your abdomen, making it very apparent what he wanted from you. Goosebumps appeared over your skin, and it became difficult to breathe normally as his hands roamed over your body freely, as if it were his for the taking.
"Coryo, we have company." You whispered urgently, attempting to voice your objections, but his lips silenced you. Coriolanus trailed tender kisses along your jawline and down your neck.
"I can't help it," he murmured between kisses, his voice filled with longing and lust. "I missed you so much." You were barely able to keep yourself steady at this point, with your rapid heartbeat, and he knew. Grabbing your waist, he lifts you off of the ground, and your legs wrap around him instinctively. His hands feel huge, gripping your ass to support your weight.
Your body desperately wanted him to fuck you right then and there, but the embarrassing thought of his henchmen hearing your moans and pleas was enough for you to keep your composure. Although, you wouldn't mind if Coriolanus did it anyway.
Something ignites in Coriolanus's eyes when he looks down at your core pressed against his dick. He watches as his hands push you against his cock, creating friction between you. The movement elicits a lewd moan from your lips, "Coryo, please." Coriolanus's Adam's apple bobs in his throat at the sound. He placed you on top of the entryway table and pushed your legs further apart, exposing your wet panties.
"Coryo, they'll see…" You feigned concern, but the truth is that you like to be watched, and Coriolanus was aware of this. His men stood still at the doorway with their gaze ahead, but one slipped up and made eye contact.
Coriolanus grabs your chin and forces your attention back onto him, "let them," he grumbled, his judgement hazy from your effect on him. His actions were calculated, taking one of your legs over his shoulder as he pushed your underwear to the side. Coriolanus shoved two fingers into you, "Ugh, you're so wet, and I haven't even given you my dick yet." You were practically writhing on his hand like a crutch, hypnotized by his touch. Each time was better than the last. It's intense. His thumb massaged your clit at the same speed as his fingers. You were ready to collapse at the ecstasy he brought you from just using one hand. “Such a pretty pussy, all for me.” Coriolanus got off by pleasing you and seized any opportunity to show how genuinely devoted he was to winning you over and showing others you were only his.
"Hmmm, look at the mess you’re making," Coriolanus cooed.
You watched while he played with your arousal between your folds, gathering more of it for lubrication before pushing his fingers deeper inside your cunt. Guiding his lips back to yours, he bit down on your bottom lip, slightly drawing blood and tasting it with his tongue before enticing yours.
“Fuck you make me feel so good.” you exhaled and relinquished all control to him. “Baby, I’m so close,” moaning softly in his mouth.
“No, not yet. They don't deserve to see you." Coriolanus slowed down his speed. You whimpered from his denial of your release. "That's only for me, you're mine." He picked you up again, taking his fingers out of you, ready to take you to bed. But the darn cuckoo bird clucked from the kitchen once more.
"You cooked dinner already?" Coriolanus asked. You nodded shyly, acutely aware that you were not far from cumming in front of an audience. In your peripheral vision, you could see the henchmen adjust their pants in a failed attempt to hide their erection. “I can’t wait to taste what you made,” he said. Coriolanus looked over his shoulder at them and muttered under his breath, “Perverted fucks.” he continued to carry you towards the kitchen. Having his arms wrapped around you made you feel safe and protected.
Coriolanus placed you on top of the kitchen countertop, hooked his index finger around the band of your underwear and tugged them down.
“what are you doing?” you giggled.
“I told you I can’t wait to taste you,” he stated.
“No, you didn’t,” you replied.
“Didn’t I?” He questioned as he lowered his head between your legs. Coriolanus took his time teasing you, lazily dragging his tongue from your inner thigh and inching closer and closer to your exposed cunt until it met its mark. He lapped up your juices, sucking on your clit and flicking it over and over again with the tip of his tongue. Your eyes fluttered shut, overconsumed by bliss.
"Don't stop," you sighed. Coriolanus ate you out as if it was his last meal. Hungrily, licking and slurping your pussy.
"I wouldn't dare," he swears under his breath and groans. “Fuck, taste so good." Your hands tangled in Coriolanus's hair from tugging him closer while you roll your hips across his face. He'd done this countless times, yet this felt different. On his knees, Coriolanus moaned out your name like a prayer, worshipping your body. He moved with vigour and dedication to add to the tension that grew within you. "Ah, Coryo-" your breath was staggered, and your legs clenched and shaken around his head, trapping him there on the edge of the counter. It was too much as your orgasm rippled throughout your body all at once.
Coriolanus reappeared with your fluids still on his chin and lips. While taking you in a passionate kiss, he wasted no time in unbuckling his trousers. Your arousal still dripping from his tongue as he lined his cock up to your entrance. You bounced up and down on his cock, as Coriolanus grinded his waist up to eagerly meet your movements halfway. "That's it, baby girl, just like that." He’s so hard that it almost hurts. Coriolanus couldn’t get enough of it. His fingers dug into your thighs while he fucks you and watches your breast move with each thrust. Coriolanus was aggressive and needy, and you loved every moment of it.
"I— shit, I'm gonna cum," you could feel Coriolanus’s body tremble against yours. "Give it to me. Every last drop," you moaned. Demanding him to surrender you all his body can offer, you would take whatever he yields to you. Riding his cock until Coriolanus couldn’t keep his eyes open, “Baby s’too much,” he slurred. Wet slapping sounds echoed throughout the house, intermingled with your moans. Cumming together. Coriolanus's hand raised around your neck, applying enough pressure to slightly cut off your circulation as he continued to pound into your pussy relentlessly. "Tell me that this pussy is mine," he growled. "It's yours, Coryo." you cried out. You stuttered out his name as you lost control of your limbs, trembling in bliss, your walls clenched and pulsed around his member. You were at your wit's end, but your body wouldn’t stop, edging yourself closer and closer to orgasm. There was an insatiable urge that remained between the two of you. Even as he pumped his cum deeper and deeper inside of you, it was never enough.
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teatreeoilll · 4 months
Text
|| Selfish (Gojo Satoru X Reader) ||
(Reposted from my old blog which I don't have access to anymore (thanks Tumblr), if you liked it reblogs or likes would be appreciated to get me back on track since I've lost all my followers and half my work :(
In which Gojo is so protective over reader she's sure he hates her. Couldn't be further from the truth, but how would you know it without some good old-fashioned over dramatic angst?
TW: mentions of smoking and blood.
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"He hates me. I swear, I know it sounds like I'm exaggerating..." You catch yourself muttering on the steps leading to the training field. The breeze tickles your skin, you cast your shoes aside to change them to trainers. "I didn't even have time to go back to my room and change. All day it's do this, go get that… I swear, Kyoto sounds like a great idea these days."
Nobara sits beside you, her look shifts to your shoes, "Where'd you get those? I never saw them in this color before."
"Kugisaki!" You plea, "I'm serious, please. Gojo hates me. How does it make sense that I'm stuck in damn Grade 2 for the past year and half?"
"Maybe," She takes her phone out to take a picture of your shoes, "You're just not as good as you think?"
"Oi, Kugisaki, don't talk to your elders like that!" Yuji's voice butts in, he sits with a thump on the stairs next to you. "But I can't imagine Gojo-Sensei hating anyone. Especially a teaching assistant. It makes no sense."
It really does make no sense, you drowned your face in your palms. How are all these kids supposed to take you seriously when they see you humiliated daily? Rejected from missions. Stuck on the same Jujutsu-Grade as the second year students for so long you've lost all hopes of ever advancing anywhere. Forever a teaching assistant, a mere substitute teacher for the times when the truly powerful had more important things to do.
Disheartened, you've reduced to sharing your feelings with first-years before training. "Alright, pair up. We haven't got all day!" You get up from the steps, trying to pick up the remains of your self-esteem.
Dusk crept over the surrounding trees. You've been watching the students for hours now, noticing how through each change in their pairings they've gotten better and faster. Familiar feelings loomed over you. That's it. That has to be it. Another day of watching these kids surpass their own limits so simply will surely be the end of the line.
You marched straight into Gojo's office, not even making an effort to change to something not drenched with sweat.
"We will not have that conversation again," the white haired man didn't even bother to look up from his phone. It's true, you've had this conversation every couple of months - and you've always received the same unsatisfying answers.
"You're right," you found yourself standing straight across from him, the palms of your hands hitting the desk in between you a little too hard.
"Careful with that, it's expensive." He says. You stare at him in silence. How is it, that with all the anger you hoped he'd notice you've directed at him, he wouldn't even avert his gaze from his phone for one minute?
"Saturo, I've -"
"First name basis, are we now?" Another smug smirk sent your way, your cheeks began to burn.
"I think first name basis may be appropriate, since I've decided to transfer to Kyoto." Oh god, when was that decision made? You've always liked Tokyo, the proximity from the city made all your futile efforts here worthwhile. But it was too late to back down. Gojo's hand reached to his blindfold, one blue eye peeks at you.
"Alright, good luck then." The blindfold snapped back on, his attention returned quickly to his phone.
"Good luck then," you mutter to yourself, walking back through the darkening corridors to your room, "Good luck then, huh?" It's been over five years now since you've first arrived in Jujutsu High, was good luck then all that he could say? What a fucking -"
-
"Emergency!" A voice rang through the building. Oh god, what now? You think, with your eyes set on your room to wallow the evening in your newly made terrible decision.
"Someone! Please!" Your legs carried you before your reasoning did. Through the curves of the hallways, straight to the first-year's rooms.
"It's Yuji," Kugisaki looked at you, panting, "He tried to pet Megumi's divine dog. I don't think the dog liked it."
Yuji held out his arm. After a thorough inspection, it was just a scary looking graze on his forearm. He muttered to Nobara it wasn't much to fuss about, the blood smearing on the sleeve of his uniform. "It's nothing bad, we'll tend to it any way to avoid an infection," you prompted him to get up from his seat, "I think Shoko's still in the infirmary."
You sat on the infermary bed, with Yuji already on his way back to his room you'd found the time to share your troubles. Shoko sighed, fumbling for a lighter through the things on the tray next to her. "Shoko, I'm going to Kyoto."
She lit her cigarette, the smell of smoke suffocating the small room. "That's nice, when will you be back?" She asked, huffing smoke in the direction of the open window.
"I don't think I'll be back for a while. Or at all, actually." She dragged a chair to the side of the bed, watching your fingers tap on the fabric.
"I wondered when you'll finally do that. You spoke to Satoru again, didn't you?" A sigh escaped her lips. She'd rarely admit to liking spending time with anyone, but the occasion seemed to call for it. "I'll miss you. That prick always thinks he's doing the right thing."
"I hardly think it's right to deny promotions from anyone for so long. He made sure I was so busy that I could hardly find the time to go on missions." Shoko weighed her words carefully, tapping carefully on the ashtray, removing the ash residue from her cigarette.
"It's because he'd never tell you how scared he is for something to happen to you. It's still selfish, don't get me wrong there - but I think he's far too afraid of something happening that it has become easier for him to sabotage you. I told him repeatedly to stop but he just -" Her words cut off by a knock on the door.
"Ieri! You there?" Gojo's impatient knocking had turned frantic. "The lights are on, Shoko. Open up!" Your eyes shot up at Shoko, speak of the devil. The handle turned lightly.
Gojo entered the room, turning straight to Shoko, not even looking at your direction. You'd managed to quickly find an excuse to leave, struggling to believe that's the same man who'd do anything out of concern for you. You closed the door, fingers lingering on the round handle, thinking how wrong it would be to eavesdrop while pressing your ear to the door.
"You know she's really leaving, right?" Shoko's distant voice lectured. "That's on you for acting selfish, Gojo." As you thought, he said nothing. Quickly diverting the conversation to something relating to a mission, another one you weren't supposed to be a part of. Perhaps it was wrong to eavesdrop. You stepped away from the door to turn to the direction of your room. Finally, some good wallowing time.
-
By the next morning, you've already made all the necessary calls. Wishing somehow it would be harder to convince the higher-ups of your sudden move, but it seemed that help was welcome anywhere, and work always needed to be done.
With your bags half packed, you were almost ready to say the sudden goodbyes to the students. The nostalgic look on every part of your room had already taken over, the final time of staring at that crack on the ceiling, the final time of covering that old coffee stain on the nightstand with a small glass whale statuette Gojo brought from one of his trips. Perhaps it's better to leave it there.
You gathered your nerves, opening the door, just to watch the tall white haired man pace from side to side in the hallway. "Did I forget something?" Your hand held the door open. He jumped up a bit from the sudden voice.
His pacing slowed, he took a step towards you, you gulped at the narrowing distance between your bodies. "I - spoke to Shoko. I think I got carried away, you don't have to leave on my account." The words felt empty as he said them, Shoko must have chewed him out well yesterday.
"You know Go-," You inhaled, "Satoru, not everything happens because of you." He dropped his sunglasses further down on the bridge of his nose, his blue eyes piercing through you. You hardly ever saw him without his blindfold, his stare sending shivers down your spine.
"Shoko was quite adamant it's all my fault, So I thought I better -"
You laughed, "Shoko was also quite adamant that all this time you just cared about me, so I guess even smart people can be wrong sometimes."
"But I do." His hand brushes through his hair, just for it to fall over his eyes again.
"Funny," you snarl, he studies your expression silently. You've taken advantage of that silence to continue, "So all these years you were just protecting me from dying? I thought sorcerers had accepted that fate when walking in here."
"Some things are worse than death," A solemn look takes hold of his face, you could have sworn the color of his eyes darkened.
"Do you take me for such a weakling?" Your tone of voice already deeming the conversation as pointless.
"I never said that. I think you care, perhaps too much. I would never want to see you sacrifice yourself over anything." The joyless tone of voice was far from his usual demeanor.
"Well, now you wouldn't have to see me at all." Your nerves had gotten the best of you. You hardly meant to say it, but as the words were spat out of our mouth, it seemed inappropriate to back off this course of action.
"You're not listening to me, (Y/N)" He could hardly cover how irritated he was, his hand gripped your forearm, pushing you towards him. His breath stroked your face, "I would never want something to happen to you, but you seem to be pushing towards it all the time. Aren't you happy with the students? Why do all of you have to go running around searching for burdens to carry when you don't have to?" His fist contracts tighter around your arm. His teeth clench to stop another flow of words he'd regret later on.
"Satoru, who's all of us?" In your voice a sense of shame, an empty pit has formed down at the bottom of your stomach, his eyes still fixed upon you. The same feeling of being scorned as a child, a tough love you'd thought would pass you by at this age.
"Aren't you happy?" he questions you again, you wiggle your arm as a sign of pain, even as he lets it go you still feel the marks that his fingers left there.
"I am, It's just that -" He couldn't let you go on for a second longer, his lips pressing firmly against yours, your breath sucked away by his tongue. A long minute passed, your hand had found a happy place inside his hair, his arms had restricted your movement and emitted safety all together.
Just as he'd stopped for a breath, you'd decided it'd be far too hard to continue the conversation if this went on.
"I'd like to not be hindered, Satoru," you wiped the wetness of your lips with your sleeve, "Nobody comes to Jujutsu-High to be protected, they come to protect. If I can't do it when you're there, I'll go." You watched his face change, his mind racing behind the sunglasses.
"You can do it here," A piece of sadness was left in an otherwise tranquil voice.
"Good." Your smile had reminded him to breathe, "Now," you mused, "Would you mind kissing me like you're angry again?" His laughter lifted the tension from your body,
"Oh - Dirty," The familiar smirk had settled down the final waves of emotion.
-
"Not a word, Shoko." You pleaded to her again.
"If you don't want the school talking about it, then don't have your arguments in the hall." She took a long drag from her smoke, "Would you mind kissing me like you're angry again?" She imitates you silently, chuckling under her breath.
"Shoko, I'm begging you!" 
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motelofmermaids · 4 months
Text
finnick odair discovers the deal you made with coriolanus snow during the quarter quell, the time when both of you were reaped.
"stop," you pleaded, backing against the wall, your breath catching in your chest. “stop looking at me like that.” finnick cornered you, his eyebrows pinched together in anger, and his mouth set in a straight line. "looking at you like what, hm?" unable to maintain eye contact, your eyes scanned the room, avoiding his piercing look, that pure disappointment that shattered you.
finnick odair, the man you've loved since your shared experiences began. the man who’s pulled you up and down in the obstacles of life. finnick odair, who waited for you, fought for you, killed for you so that he could kiss you once more. now, exasperating huffs into your face, his hands flexed with overwhelmed emotions.
a lump in your throat made speaking difficult; you felt like you were choking on regret with the way his gaze scrutinized you. "stop lookin’ at me with… with those eyes," you winced, "like i could just disappear, and you wouldn't care why." finnick stepped back, his expression morphing into something more painful than you could imagine—softened brows, raised almost; eyes examining your face, your eyes, your trembling lips. his frown took you down to the depths of hell.
"what?" you knew you deserved this, but you couldn't find the words, the apologies you'd built up for years had turnt into pathetic excuses. "why," finnick began before turning around, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "why would you say that? why would you think that? i don't understand. you lied to me, led me—"
you snapped, walking up to him and grabbing his arm in a wordless plea. "i didn't, finnick. i didn't mean to. it was never my intention to trick you; it was never for show," you cried out, eyes wide and raging. "i made a mistake. i fucked up so bad. please look at me. how do i make you stay?" finnick looked down at you, his mouth parted, and the intensity in his eyes faltered.
he was silent, hesitating with his own thoughts. you took it as an invitation for you to keep talking. "he threatened you, threatened me, my family—threatened us all. i don't know why i didn't tell you sooner… but i was scared; we didn't know each other. i didn't trust it. i took his deal for my family." finnick slowly turned towards you, distrust and love crashing together like an unpredictable storm at sea.
"were we real?" he croaked, needing the reaffirmation for the sake of his blinded heart. his opposite hand gently covered yours that tightly gripped at his arm. you took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment to ground yourself with his touch. "we were— we are. i love you, finn. i love you more than anything." he leaned down, tears threatening his reddened eyes. "i love you, sweetheart." yet he was pulling away, and you felt like you were going to throw up. "but i need time."
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crowborn666-nsfw · 5 months
Text
A Demon Like Me
@simpfortheseven figured I tag ya since you seemed so interested!
(Reader has both wings and a tail!)
Diavolo x Reader
Tags: AFAB anatomy, dry humping, unprotected sex, riding, rough sex,
~~~~~~
Maybe you had fallen, or done bad deeds in life to be sent to the Devildom.
Whether accidental or purposeful, you were here.
Barbatos was the one to find you, crying from the pain your new horns and demonic features brought. He carried you back to the demon lord’s castle, where Diavolo fawned over you like a mother hen.
It took a few weeks to get used to things, the brothers all flocked your side when they heard the news. But you easily fell back into routine, attending RAD with the brothers, attending Diavolo’s parties and Saturday tea time.
It was one such party, and you had ended up staying the night. Awoken harshly by bad memories and a aching, phantom pain in your back and head, you stumbled out of your bed and into the hallway.
Visions in your head had you on the verge of tears, the pain increasing as you hobbled your way to a specific door and knocked.
Nearly falling into the room as the door opened, you tumbled into Diavolo’s chest, choking back sobs.
“What’s wrong?” His deep voice rumbled against your ear, “What happened, (Y/n)?”
You couldn’t articulate what you were remembering or feeling, barely able to let out the word “Hurts…” as you tugged on his shirt. Diavolo pulled you into the room, bringing you to the couch and sitting you down.
Diavolo could remember the aching pain he dealt with as his wings and horns grew in, so he could only imagine what kind of pain you were going though.
He remembered going to others to deal with his pain, sharing it in their company, whether that be a simple chat or something more.
“(Y/n)?” He called to you, warm hands holding your smaller ones. “Would you permit me to try distracting you from this pain?”
You were about to ask how, but with a sniffle and a glance up to his eyes, you were told all you needed to know.
You knew he had been pining on you for a while, even before you grew horns, but here he was open to you, his eyes holding lust as he shamelessly gazed upon you.
“Yes. Yes please.” You replied, shuddering as his warm lips met yours. You were surprised by how quickly your body responded, warmth filling your core, causing you to tug on Diavolo with a soft plea of “More?”.
He nodded, deepening the kiss as he pulled you into his lap. Your hips immediately began moving, bumping into his as you dug your hands into his hair.
“I’m yours tonight.” He promised against your lips, unbuttoning his shirt. He chuckled at your impatience as you reached for his waistband, helping you in pulling his pants and boxers down. Your own pants came next, and with kisses to his neck you shuffled in his lap, lining yourself up with his cock.
He muffled your moan with his mouth, horns and wings springing to life at the sound as you slowly took his thick length inch by inch. Once he had bottomed out, you began to move, up and down on his cock with pretty moans leaving you in tandem with your rhythm.
“S-So much…!” You stuttered, hands digging into his shoulders for leverage.
“I’m here, darling.” He breathed out, “Use me as you see fit for your pleasure.”
You keened into his ear, yours walls fluttering around his cock as you got pushed over the edge.
Diavolo was fully prepared to be done then and there, too used to your old human self having low stamina. But when you began wriggling your hips again, wings and tail twitching as you practically clawed at his chest, begging for more, it hit him that you were now a demon, and with that came a demon’s stamina and libido.
“More! More please! Please Dia!”
You were flipped onto your back then, Diavolo’s form casting you in shadow. His glowing golden eyes held your gaze, his large hands holding your hips in place as he began pounding into you.
You moaned loud, your wings fluttering and your tail curling tightly around one of Diavolo’s legs. Diavolo lifted your shirt, eyes roaming before he leaned down to take a nipple into his mouth.
Your back arched as you were pushed over the edge again, Diavolo fucking you through your orgasm. You moaned into his ear, giving pleas of “don’t stop” and “more”.
His thumbs met between your legs, rubbing your clit in tight circles to bring you to the edge faster than before.
“Cum with me.” He growled against your skin, relishing in the broken moan that left you as your back arched once more, your walls squeezing and milking his cock.
“Do you still desire more, (Y/n)?” He asked, already knowing your answer as your tail tightened around his leg and your ankles locked around his waist.
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