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#that stare after.. he's insane y'all
slutt4lovee · 3 months
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friends (b.b.)
𝚗𝚊𝚟𝚒 - 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 - 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 - 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝
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pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader
word count: 2356
warnings: NO SMUT, just cutesy fluff, maybe just a tiny bit of angst but not really, nothing really to warn about. might be some typos and shit but at this point y'all should be expecting this from my dyslexic ass.
summary: After being friends with Bucky for years, you finally get the confession you've been dreaming of.
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Being Bucky's friend isn't really as great as Steve made it seem. Sure, Bucky is caring and funny and fiercely protective of the things and people that he loves. Yes, he's funny and charming and everything good in the world, but he is also arrogant and cocky and so emotionally repressed that you're not even sure he knows what feelings are anymore.
Being Bucky's friend means that you're also the Winter Soldier's best friend and that is a horrible feeling. Not because of the fact that he is the Winter Soldier but more so because the Winter Soldier has a fucking martyr complex. Despite the fact that Bucky is an amazing person who you think encompasses every good aspect of the world, he's an incredible dumbass. Not just a regular dumbass, the kind of fucking idiot that thinks everyone else, everything else is more important than him. The kind of idiotic person that thinks everyone but him is worth saving, the kind who runs head first into danger because he genuinely doesn't care if he lives or dies as long as he saves someone. Bucky is the type of imbecile that would run into a building, knowing it was rigged with explosives just to save a cat.
Bucky may be one of the best people you've ever met, but being his friend is horrible.
It's caring so intensely for someone who doesn't even care about himself. It's not being able to see or even speak to him for weeks or months because he's off on some insanely stupid mission to save the fucking world or something stupid like that. It's him constantly thinking he's some kind of invincible god and you having to remind him over and over and over that he's not. No matter how much he might look like one. It's trying to convince someone that hates his entire fucking existence that he deserves every soft, sappy thing in the world no matter how much he thinks he doesn't.
But worst of all it's being in love with a complete fucking idiot who doesn't even think he's worthy of love. You'd take all the anxiety, the panic, the dread, the crying and worry a million times over if you could just not be in love with that complete fucking dumbass. Or if you could maybe convince him that he deserves all the love in the fucking world.
You can't sleep, never can when he's gone. Some stupid romance movie you've seen about a hundred times plays on your tv—a feeble attempt to keep your mind off Bucky. To keep your mind from imagining what he's doing on his mission and all the ways it could go horribly wrong.
It doesn't really work.
It's almost impossible to keep him out of your mind. When you're not worrying about all the ways he could be killed, you're pining after him in the worst fucking way.
Just staring mindlessly at the screen daydreaming about him and the way his clothes always fit just right, just enough to give you a good view of his muscles without being too tight. And the way he looks in his stupidly attractive one armed outfits he wears on missions—which shouldn't be so fucking hot, but it is, it really fucking is. And his lips, just everything about them, their shape, their pretty pink color, the way they look so fucking soft all the god damned time. And that boyish, way too endearing, smirk of his that makes your heart feel like it's about to burst out of your chest. And his hands and the way they feel against your skin, rough calloused fingers with a touch so soft it sends chills down your spine. And—and, God you're so fucking fucked about him.
He's your best friend, really one of your only friends, and yet you can't stop thinking about him doing filthy things—that he would probably never do—to you. It's horrible and dirty and disrespectful but you just can't stop, thinking about Bucky's mouth and if it's really as soft as it looks.
You smell him before you even hear him, woody smoke, and honey, mixed with sweat. You smile softly to yourself as he drops his bag to the ground with a little grunt. Your mind moves slowly, struggling through your lack of sleep to put pieces together. You're clumsily climbing over the back of the couch the second you realize he's really there.
"Bucky," You start to say, stumbling a little at the ungraceful way you dismount from the back of the couch. "What the fuck?" You ask, waving your hands up and down in his general direction.
He's not sure if you're questioning his appearance or his presence...maybe both. You're not really sure either.
"I just got back," He mutters, words dripping with exhaustion as his arms slip lazily around your waist, making you trip over your own feet as he pulls you into his chest.
"You didn't text," You whisper, matching the soft tone of his voice as you slide your arms around his neck, resting your chin on his shoulder.
He doesn't respond right away, he pulls you closer instead, grabbing onto your shirt to keep you there as if you had any plans on letting go. He makes a soft, barely audible noise, as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. His arms are tight around your waist, holding you to him like he's scared you're just gonna disappear and the thought makes your chest ache. You tilt your head, squeezing your eyes shut as your nose presses into the top of his shoulder, your lips just barely touching the leather on his jacket. Your nose floods with his scent, and you find yourself wishing you could capture it and keep it forever. He smells like camping in the summer, like searching for bugs and plants and pretty rocks in the woods, like staring up at the sky and pointing out the prettiest ones.
He smells likehome, warm and cozy and safe.
Slowly it feels like every ounce of worry and dread is leached out of your body. He's home, he's safe, he's here in your arms and nothing else fucking matters. This is the good part, this right here, all the worrying and sleepless nights are worth it just for this feeling. This happy sort of peaceful relief you get every time he comes back safe.
"M'sorry," He mutters after a few seconds, his words muffled in the crook of your neck. "Jus' wanted to get home."
Your stomach twists at that, a giddy sort of feeling floating around in your stomach at his words. He came straight from his mission to you. Didn't stop at his place, didn't go to the compound, he came straight to you. Straight home to you.
"Took ya long enough." You whisper against his shoulder, voice light and teasing as his grip on your shirt tightens.
He doesn't say anything, but you can tell this one must've been rough on him. It's obvious from the way he's clutching your shirt like a lifeline. Holding you to his chest like he thought he'd never see you again, like he's scared to let go. You don't ask him about it, he'll talk when he's ready, but you do hold him just as tight as he holds you. Rub your hands along his back, over his shoulder, up the back of his neck, lingering the softest touches everywhere you can reach because you know it calms him down.
"S'good you came home, you were gone so long I was about to come lookin' for you." You tell him, smiling softly against his neck at the little snort he lets out.
He's quiet for a bit longer, just standing there with his arms around your waist, his hands clutching at your shirt like he's terrifiedyou're going to vanish. After a while he relinquishes your shirt and before you can even think about pulling away, not that you would, his hands are running down to the backs of your thighs.
"M'sorry," He murmurs into your neck, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist like you weigh absolutely nothing. "Came as quick as I could, darlin', didn't even get to shower or anything."
"Did you eat?" You ask softly, holding onto him a little tighter as he hooks his arms back around your waist.
He shakes his head and you start to offer to cook him something while he showers but he's walking in the direction of your bedroom before you can get a single word out. He nudges your bedroom door open with the toe of his boot without saying a word and it makes you frown because Bucky is never silent around you. Talks so damn much you started to think he just liked the sound of his own voice (really he just loved the sound of yours but he's not about to admit something that sappy).
"Do you want to eat?" You ask, voice all soft and sweet in a way that makes his head spin.
He shakes his head again and without even letting go of you, he falls forward onto your bed, sandwiching you between him and your mattress. He's heavy, dense, thick muscle directly on top of you, but you don't complain. You wouldn't dare tell him that he's crushing your fucking chest because then he'd let go and you don't want that.
He settles with his head on your chest, his ear pressed up against the center of it. Listening closely to the sound of your heart like he didn't believe it was real. His hand slips a little under the hem of your shirt but stays resting on your hip as if all he wanted was just to feel your skin.
He's silent for a while, laying so still that you almost think he's fallen asleep. You don't say anything either because what could you possibly say? You could tell him about work or something but you're almost certain he doesn't want to hear that.
"Thought you were dead..." He whispers as he nuzzles his face against the center of your chest. His hands squeeze at your hips and you can't shake the feeling that he's trying to make sure you're real.
You don't really know what to say to that either. You stroke your fingers through his hair and you swear you feel your heart break a little at the pain in his voice.
"God, I thought you were fucking dead..." His voice cracks a little this time and his arms wrap around your waist tight, too tight but you don't say a thing. You're happy to just let him squeeze the life out of you if it makes him feel even a little bit better. "They...they got in my head, made me see things...and all I could think about was that I never got the chance to tell you."
"Tell me what?" You ask and you think your voice comes out a bit strained because he immediately loosens his grip.
"That I'm fucking in love with you," He forces out, voice rough with emotion as he shifts a little so that he's looking down at you.
Your heart fucking stops at his words and all you can do is just stare up at him like a complete fool. Cheeks flushing bright red and eyes wide as you stammer and choke on 16 different failed attempts at speech.
He loves you. No. He's in love with you.
"I thought you were dead and all I could think about was that you didn't know I loved you." He tells you, voice softening some as his eyes scan over your face. "All I wanted to fucking do was hold you and kiss you and just fucking touch you again and I know that's so fucking selfish of me but...fuck."
"You...love me?" Your voice comes out all meek and unsure as you look up at him. You're not even sure if your heart has started beating again because it feels like you could, very well, drop dead at any fucking second.
"Of course I do you fucking idiot." Bucky laughs and the sound is utterly heart wrenching to you. He tries to smile but it just looks so fucking sad that you want to cry.
And maybe he's right and you are a fucking idiot because you can't think of anything to say. You want to tell him you love him too but the words won't come up, they stick in the back of your throat and make you choke. All you can manage is to reach out, grab his face, and pull it down to yours in a pathetic excuse for a kiss.
He kisses you back instantly, taking control of the kiss, somehow calmer than you. His lips are soft and sweet against yours and nowhere near as clunky and uncoordinated as you but he doesn't seem to mind in the slightest. He smiles a little against your near frantic lips, one hand coming up to cradle the side of your face.
It's not your first kiss, not even close, but you're so clumsy with it that it damn near feels like it. He hums against your lips like it's the best damn kiss he's ever had, strokes his thumb over your cheek and laughs when your teeth hit his.
You think he'll pull away, you would if you were him, but he doesn't. If anything he kisses you a bit harder, trying to take control of the kiss and guide your lips to work with his and it works wonders, you practically melt into it. He makes a soft, pleased sound in the back of his throat when you finally relax and then his tongue slides over your bottom lip and you melt all over again.
You've never been the biggest fan of tongue kissing, it's always just so wet and slimy and forceful. But there's something about the way Bucky's tongue slides so so softly across your bottom lip that has you parting your lips without a second thought. And you don't fucking regret it at all.
It doesn't feel all slimy and gross like you're used to. His tongue is soft and wet and there's a faint hint of sweet mint as he kisses you. One of his hands squeezes at your waist under your shirt and he fucking groans like kissing you is the best thing he's ever experienced.
He kisses you until you're both breathless, until your lips are raw and swollen and slick with spit.
His forehead presses against yours and his voice comes out all hoarse and raspy as he says, "Fuck, I could kiss you for fucking ever,"
You laugh at that and the noise is so soft and sweet that it makes his breath hitch. You flutter your eyes open, thumbs stroking at the side of his neck as you look up at his flushed face.
"I love you too," You whisper and God, the way he smiles sends a jolt of warm heat through your body. "I didn't say it earlier, but I do. I really fucking do."
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girlygguk · 1 year
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denial - jjk (18+)
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➵ summary; it's been a plethora of secret meetups, quickies in the bathrooms of his award shows, and 2 am 'you up?' texts during your year-long situationship with jungkook. you both agreed in the beginning that your careers are far too hectic to commit to anything serious, but you can't shake the shitty ache in your chest every time the high wears off, or when you're crawling out of his bed in the middle of the night. trying to exile the shitty feeling of longing that you harbor for him, you spend time with another one of your guy friends. jungkook sees, and he's mad.
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➵ pairing ; idol!jk x (f)actress!reader
➵ word count ; 5.3k
➵ rating ; 18+ minors dni
➵ content ; jealous (& possessive 🫣) asffff kook, mutual no strings agreement / fwb au, older (just a lil) reader, taehyung sister reader, secret-ish situashionship, smut/fluff-ish/angst-ish, this is FILTHYY i even shocked myself.
➵ warnings ; teasing, swearing, kissing, fingering, spitting, nipple play, dom!jk, oral sex (f rec.), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap it UP. don't be silly), sexy stuff starts a lil later on in the story so basically pwp.
a/n ; while i'm working on the next chap of my fic i come bearing a gift! this is a oneshot but if y'all enjoy it i have a bunch of ideas for this pairing i could work on and maybe make an additional part! thanks sm for reading, hope u enjoy <3 also this is my first time writing smut, so any feedback is insanely appreciated and encouraged! mwah
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Jungkook's room was quiet, the only noise being his soft humming as his thumb dragged down the expanse of his phone screen, scrolling mindlessly through his private Instagram feed. He's already passed a few of his bandmates' photo dumps, leaving a like on a few and a teasing, sarcastic comment on the others. But, then, smirking at his remarks that he finds absolutely priceless, his thumb grinds to a halt as he comes across your latest post.
There you are, in all of your glory. You're posing prettily with an overfilled cup of ice cream from a popular parlour in Seoul Central. A spoon rests against your lips; eyes closed gingerly for the snap. The side of Jungkook's mouth pulls upwards before he can stop it, a soft, dazed smile coating his lips as he stares at you for longer than he'd like to admit. However, the daze ends as abruptly as it began when his focus shifts to the person seated on your left. He recognizes the guy sitting next to you as the leading male in your latest drama, Jae something. 
A hot, uncomfortable feeling bubbles in the pit of Jungkook's stomach as he stares at the classically attractive male in your photo. The feeling intensifies tenfold when he notices the spoon clasped in Jae something's hand, and his eyes search every pixel on his phone screen, begging to find this dirtbag's own cup of ice cream. Finally, he scoffs after scouting every inch of your photo for the third time. So you're really sharing a cup of ice cream with this guy? And it's not even for work. And you posted a picture of it on your Instagram. Your public Instagram.
Jealousy claws at Jungkook's throat with vigour, and he has to lock his phone and put it next to him on his bed before he stands up and hurls it at the wall. Of course, he knows he shouldn't and has no right to be jealous. But he can't help it. He can't control his actions and feelings when it comes to you. He's been infatuated since day one, and though you both have the mutual no-strings agreement as your blooming careers don't allow you the time or freedom to commit to something like that right now, he can't help but feel fucking sick looking at the photo of you and someone else.
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The stadium is boisterous; fans hastily rush to get to their seats in the various sections surrounding the stage as if the concert would start without them. You were currently on your way backstage to visit your brother before the show began. After five minutes of weaving around equipment and dodging the stressed crew rushing around doing last-minute preparations, you finally arrived at your destination.
Knocking thrice on the dressing room door, a muffled "Come in!" has you twisting the handle and walking through the threshold with a cheesy grin. The seven men you've been good friends with since your brother introduced you come into view as you enter the room, each of them beaming a mixture of greetings.
"Happy first show!" You exclaim as you walk towards your brother with a bouquet of mixed flowers. Taehyung takes the gift from you with a smile before placing a kiss on your forehead as thanks.
Jungkook's eyes haven't left you since you stepped foot in their dressing room. He swallows harshly, hoping to rehydrate his mouth as all his saliva has apparently decided to dissipate. Jungkook takes in your outfit, the short Chanel dress hugging the curves of your body and showcasing your smooth, slender legs. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he suppresses his smirk when he sees the long-sleeved white undertop you're wearing. Images of you withering beneath him as he marked the top of your breasts a few nights ago flash through his mind, and he has to blink a few times in an attempt to return back to Earth.
Your gaze meets Jungkook's for a split second, watching him drink in your figure before you look back at the rest of the guys with a smile. Then, stepping back to your original position after breaking from the hug with your brother, your arms motion towards the man that you dragged in with you. "This is my friend, Jae Lee."
That's enough to crash Jungkook back down to Earth as his focus shifts to the tall brunette on your right. Jae Lee offers a quick bow with a smile as the rest of BTS chorus a polite greeting in return. "Nice to meet you guys; I'm a big fan." His voice is deep and rugged, just like it is in the drama he starred in with you. The drama that Jungkook binged in one sitting on release day, but he wouldn't tell you that.
"Likewise," Tae returns with a nod and his signature toothy grin before setting the flowers on the tabletop by one of the mirrors, "we're on in ten—do you know where your seats are?"
You nod at your younger brother's question, patting the pocket of Jae's faded jeans, "Jae's got our passes; we'll go there now and let you guys finish getting ready."
Jungkook is fucking fuming at this point as he watches the interaction, tongue pushing against his lower teeth to stop himself from spewing something that would embarrass the both of you.
You bid them one final good luck before spinning on your heel and exiting the room, a cloud of your sweet perfume trains behind you in your departure, invading Jungkook's senses and rendering him dazed as Jae follows you closely, shutting the door gently behind him.
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"God, you guys were insane." You arrived back at your brother's apartment (that he shared with Jungkook) a few minutes ago, the three of you piling through the door as you beelined straight for the couch. "Hoseok has the stamina of a horse, I swear. I'm always shocked whenever I watch you guys perform."
Taehyung laughs from behind you as he shrugs off his jacket before jumping over the back of the couch and landing next to you with a huff. His best friend opts for a different route after ridding himself of his coat, walking into the kitchen to grab a drink of water and hopefully clear his head a bit. 
It's bad enough that he had a foggy grey cloud glooming in the back of his mind during the concert, but then he had to sit in an enclosed vehicle with you and your brother on the way home because Tae wanted to spend more time with you. Of course, Jungkook doesn't blame his friend; you have a week off before your next shoot, and you're headed to Gwacheon in a couple of days to get settled in. Usually, you and Jungkook would be utilizing this time off in a very different way, but unbeknownst to you, Jungkook is not in the mood right now. And he's always in the mood.
The bottle of water is downed in seconds, and the crunch of the now-empty plastic bottle in his hand pulls him out of his thoughts. Stepping on the pedal of the garbage can, he disposes of the rubbish and listens to the sound of soft padded footsteps entering the kitchen.
"You needa put that in the recycling bin."
Your teasing is gentle as you approach the ink-covered man, brushing past him lightly as you lean against the island opposite him. His lips pull into a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, and your eyebrows furrow, leg lifting slightly to nudge him with your sock-covered foot.
"What's wrong, grumpy?" You poke, watching as he shakes his head before pushing off the counter and heading out of the kitchen. Your hand reaches out for him a liiiitle too quickly before he can slink away, "Kook? Are you okay?"
"Yeah, ____. I'm good. Exhausted from the show, that's all." He removes his hand gently from your grasp before continuing his departure and leaving you in the kitchen by yourself. A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you head back to the living room, not surprised when your brother is the only one there.
"I'm going to go and pick up the pizza; they shut in 20, and delivery's off for the night," Taehyung informs you as he chucks his jacket back on, "Kook's headed to bed, so we'll just save him some."
You nod at him before falling back onto the couch and reaching for the TV remote. "Drive safe," you call, and he assures you he will, the sound of the apartment door shutting behind him echoing in your ears. That's all you need to hear before you carelessly throw the remote aside and scramble off the couch towards a certain grumpy cat's bedroom.
"Koo?" Your tone is soft, one hand on the door handle of his room, the other rapping gently at the wood.
His low hum from the other side reaches your ears, and you twist the handle, stepping inside quietly before closing the door and leaning against it. You're not entirely sure how to approach this situation. Most of your interactions with the gorgeous man sitting at the edge of his bed with a somber look have had quite a different vibe. Extremely fucking different.
"Tae's gone to pick up dinner, " you try, "I'd say like twenty minutes or so."
He sighs and nods at your obvious hinting, lifting his gaze from the ground and watching as you saunter towards him. The little black dress he first saw earlier today still has him rattled, and your scent getting more robust with each step you take enhances his stupor. You lift one of your legs over his thigh when you reach him, the bottom of your dress riding up as you settle in his lap. 
Shoving his dreary subconscious to the side, Jungkook leans forward into you before burying his face into your clothed stomach and inhaling as deeply as he can. Your stupifying, sweet, familiar scent invades his nostrils, and he knows he can always count on that to distract himself. You run your hands through his hair with a mewl as his head rises at an achingly slow pace before it's level with yours. 
His eyes are hooded as he closes the distance between you, capturing your lips with his own, and you drink in the soft moan that escapes him when your fingers clutch his hair tighter in your grasp. His mouth is sinful, his tongue delving deeper into your mouth to connect with your own. Instead of your usual teasing fight for dominance, you let Jungkook take control of the kiss, hoping it will soothe the unease you've noticed in his demeanour as of late.
His hands are gliding over your hips, fingers squeezing at the meat of your middle, and you can't help but purr at the feeling, almost as if he's trying to grab as much of your body in his hands as he can. Suddenly the reminder that your brother would be home at any moment returned to your mind, and you reluctantly broke the connection. Climbing off his lap, your feet shakily meet the floor, and your hands reach for the hem of your dress, ready to slip it over your head before you notice the look on his face. He's fighting another internal battle, and it makes you release the fabric in your hands, your dress falling back into place.
"Please tell me what's wrong, Kookie." You mumble, standing in front of him with your hands slumped to your side in defeat. He blows out a quiet breath, shaking his head for what feels like the fifth time tonight before he reaches out for you. Finally, you give in with a deflated sigh, letting him pull you close towards him before he continues your previous actions and clutches the hem of your dress. Dragging the fabric up slowly, he lets it ride just above your stomach before he uses one hand to slip your panties down your legs.
Your eyes flutter shut as the finger hooked into the waistband of your underwear drags across your inner thigh on its journey downwards, his other hand still full of your dress, the thumb on said hand rubbing soft circles against your skin. "Are you together?"
Your eyes snap open at his question, still in a hazy fog from his touches but coherent enough to make out the undertone of his question. His hand doesn't falter in the slightest, your panties hitting the ground with a soft thud, and he drags his hand back up the underside of your thigh when they fall. "No."
So you knew who he was talking about, he thought. "Hm," is all he mutters, the hand on your hamstring bending you at the knee and pulling you abruptly onto his lap. You swallow a yelp as he guides you back over him, unable to help the motion of your hips grinding down when you feel him through his sweatpants.
The feeling that brews inside you when your now bare heat brushes against the fabric of his pants is euphoric, the small wet patch you leave behind being first-hand proof. "10 minutes," you remind in a whisper, leaning forward to attach your lips again, needing additional contact with him more than your next breath.
Jungkook ends the kiss quickly, and it has you pouting when he pulls away. He reaches between you, shoving his sweats and underwear down in one motion, his erection jutting out on demand and hitting his stomach once free. He leans back a little but doesn't allow himself to lie down entirely, and you usher him backwards before his grip on your waist tightens, and you stop your action. You look at him in confusion, his intoxicating chocolate brown eyes lifting from where you're seated to meet your gaze. "Sit on it."
Your breath catches in your throat at his demand, but you follow it nonetheless, his readjustment allowing you to plant your knees on the bed and lean forward slightly. You look down for a split second to grasp at his hardened length resting against his stomach and guide it to where you need it most. You look up before letting it enter you, your eyes flickering over his face and realizing he's already staring at you. He doesn't say anything verbally, but his features give everything away without the need to. 
Jungkook leans forward, his hands sliding around your stomach before they reach your back. The flats of his palms cover almost the entirety of your back as his head falls into the crook of your neck. He places a single restrained kiss on your sweet spot, his lips finding it easily as they've visited the area hundreds of times. "Baby," he mutters into your neck, "sit."
And you do.
You finish lining up the tip of his cock at the entrance of your hole before letting go and fully sinking onto him. The mangled breath that he chokes into the crook of your neck paints a devilish smirk on your lips, waiting until you feel his entire length submerge into you before lifting up and slamming back down, harder.
His breathing is heavy as his hands slide down your back before resting on your ass and grabbing a gluttonous handful when you rise. A strangled moan escapes your lips as he squeezes, spreading your cheeks and listening to the elicit sound of your walls sucking him in. You throw your head back in ecstasy, your clit throbbing every time it comes in contact with his balls, the feeling igniting a fire in your belly, arousal coursing through every cell in your body.
"Fucking. Hell," Jungkook curses; his eyes are slits as he glances down at his lap, watching your centre swallow him whole and mercilessly. He lifts one of his hands to his mouth, tongue swirling around his thumb before it presses against your clit, rubbing against it expertly and causing you to spew another strangled moan. "That's it, baby," his tone is low and filthy, and your hands grab onto his shoulders to balance yourself as the pleasure is getting too much.
His torture on your clit doesn't stop, not even when your hips stutter momentarily, the abuse to your cunt pulling at the rubber band holding you together harder and harder with each passing moment. "Stop playing with my clit," you cry, "or I'll fucking cum."
You almost regret opening your mouth because his hand pulls back instantly, and a soft whine leaves you at the loss of contact. You don't think twice before lifting your hips again, about to resume your action of riding him, when all of a sudden, he lifts you slightly, flipping you around until your back hits the mattress. "Wha—" your excuse of a question is cut off abruptly when he kneels down and drags you closer to the edge of the bed, mouth attaching to your clit with vigour.
"Fuck. Fuck." Is all you can mutter, your hands automatically going to his head, fingers threading through his hair and tugging when his tongue hits that part of your cunt that blurs your vision. Jungkook is lost in it, his tongue wrapping around your clit, relishing in the moans spilling from you. Lifting his head slightly, he gathers the saliva in his mouth before he spits on your pussy and dives back in. "What the fuck," you scream as he devours you like he's on death row and your cunt is his last meal, "Gguk—"
"I know, baby," he nods after pulling away for a split second, "just let go." He punctuates his words by sliding a finger, and then two, into your hole, and that's the knot in the fucking noose. His fingers are relentless, pushing all the way into you until they reach that spongey part before sliding out and repeating the same torturous routine. He knows you're close; he knows everything about you at this point. He's proven right when he feels your walls clench around his fingers and shoves his face deeper into your heat in response. His nose is buried in your cunt, tongue lapping and sucking at your clit feverishly, and you lose it. Your moans are silent, your throat not having the power to produce noise anymore as your eyes roll to the back of your head. "Baby," you manage, "I'm fucking cumming."
Jungkook moans into your pussy; its vibration is the tipping point as your vision blurs, flashing white as your orgasm washes over you. Your knees shake, closing around his head as he doesn't relent, your body convulsing and grinding into his mouth as he works you through your orgasm. 
Your head is slumped against the pillow as you crash back down to Earth, Jungkook eventually pulling away from your core as you shudder, pressing soft kisses against your inner thigh as he detaches from you. Pulling himself up, he makes his way onto the bed, lowering his strong body over you. He's hungry on his journey upwards, lips dragging against every inch of your skin, his tongue dipping out to wet them when the skin of your leg absorbs their moisture. He explores your stomach, his bunny teeth grazing against your belly button as he gets higher. It looks like he's where he wants to be when he's levelled with your chest. He pulls at the dress that you're honestly still surprised that he's left on you for this long before he lifts it over your head, chucking it to the side without another thought. A grunt leaves his lips when the white long-sleeve you had on under your dress is still there, and he rids it the same, just with more furrowed brows.
A giggle leaves your lips at his frustration before it's replaced with a content sigh as he latches onto your left nipple. Your hand runs through his dishevelled hair; lip caught between your teeth as his tongue wraps around the bud, his teeth grazing at it softly. "T-Taehyung will be back soon," you warn through a moan, "need you inside of me."
A string of spittle drags from your nipple and his mouth as he pulls back, his head tilting slightly as his gaze catches yours. "Still needy," he hums, leaning forward and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips before lifting his hips and grabbing hold of his hardened length. He drags it between your wet folds, the sound of your slickened cunt music to his ears. Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling, still sensitive from your orgasm, but the need to feel him inside you outweighs the overstimulation.
"Beg for it." He says simply, the length of his shaft still firmly in his hand as he drags it through your sticky folds. Your eyes snap open, eyebrows ruffled in astonishment as you stare at the cocky piece of shift above you.
"Jun—" you start, "beg for it." He finishes, his focus lifting from where you're almost conjoined to your face. His face is hard, and you know better than to fight him on this. Your breaths come out shortly; his tone should not be turning you on this much.
"Please." You mewl, your chest heaving once as he presses his cock deeper into folds, not quite yet at the hole you need him to fill. "Please, Jungkook. Fuck me. Fuck me. Ruin me." You spit, losing all sense of self-worth as the heaviness of his lower body against you turns you into a pathetic mess.
His smirk is taunting. It's the last thing you see before your eyes roll back to the back of your head, a disgustingly loud moan booming from your throat as he thrusts into you with one motion. A strangled gasp blows from your lips as he pulls out before slamming back into you twice as hard. Sweat is gathering at the base of his brows, a moan of his own chorusing with yours as he slams his cock deeper with each thrust. You're at a loss for words as the pleasure intensifies, the coil in your stomach bubbling ferociously for the second time tonight. "Does he fuck you this good?" He can't stop himself, the words spluttering from his lips before he has a chance to stop them.
He's leaning a little further back now, his hand pressing against your belly slightly, feeling the motion of his cock sliding into you through your fucking skin. How he expects you to respond right now is beyond you, the only noise you can possibly muster being a high-pitched screech as his pace increases. "Huh?" He spits, spreading your legs wider, lowering slightly to delve his cock deeper into your cunt.
"No." It comes out as a mixture of a gasp and a moan, "Nobody fucks me like you do." A stupid wave of relief rushes over him as he hears you speak, the sound of your squelching walls suctioning him in parading through the room. Your assurance ignites something inside him, and you're surprised you can keep your eyes open long enough to see the transformation. He secures one of your legs around his waist, his hand holding your other open as he plants one of his knees firmly on the bed. He stares at your pussy in awe, watching your clit glisten with slickness before spitting harshly at it; his thumb reaching down to spread it over you. A choked sob leaves your lips at the action before an even louder scream cuts it off; you don't even recognize your own voice.
Jungkook is ravenous. His hips are pulling back at record speed, every inch of his cock sliding out of you until just the tip remains before slamming back inside brutally. "Oh my fucking god, Jungkook!" You screech as he hits that spot deep inside you on every thrust like he's been training for this his whole life.
"You fucking love it, don't you? This what you wanted?" He spits as his cock splits you in two, "You know I hate seeing people touch what's mine. Knew I'd fucking lose it."
"He never touched me. Wouldn't let him." You choke, your back lifting slightly as you feel him push in just that much deeper at your words, "I'm fucking yours, idiot."
Jungkook's hips stutter as your words catch him off guard, cracking his cocky persona for a millisecond before he recovers and grips the meat of your thighs even harder and drills back into you. You're fucking dripping at this point, and Jungkook groans at the feeling. His cock drags the juices out of your hole, and he watches as it slides down your ass, filthily pooling at the sheets beneath you.
You can't do anything but reach your hands out, and he understands immediately, releasing the hold on your legs before leaning down and falling into your arms. Your hands are on the back of his neck as you pull him closer, needing to feel his full weight on top of you in hopes of it taking some of the pressure off your abused cunt. He doesn't stop, even when his face falls to the side of your neck, plastering soft, wet kisses to your skin and pulling a soft moan from you.
Tears are welling in your eyes as he continues snapping his hips into you; the new position you're in means he's permanently in contact with your clit, and it's brutal. The room begins to spin as the familiar feeling coils in your stomach harder than you think it ever has. "I'm so fucking close," he heaves into your neck, and all you can respond with is a nod, the tears that pool at your waterline threatening to spill.
Your hands fall from his hair to his back, fingernails digging into his smooth skin as you try to cling to the last string of coherence you have, "cum in me, Gguk. Fill me up. Fill me." You moan, fingernails dragging down his back just how he likes it, and that's his fucking end. A low growl leaves his lips, goosebumps flooding your arms at the noise. 
"Fuck." He curses loudly, hips pulling back in one final shaky thrust before he pushes all the way, your walls clenching tightly around him as he convulses, his release spilling from him and painting the walls of your cunt. He moans tenderly as you milk his cock, trying to pull every last drop of his orgasm from him.
Ten seconds or so pass while you both catch your breath, and you smile giddily beneath him; his heavy body feels comforting on top of you, like your own weighted blanket. You're ready to roll off the bed once he recovers, your hand drawing lazy circles across the expanse of his back before you hear him let out a deep, heaved breath. Lifting his hips back up, he ruts gently, resuming his movement inside of you. Your eyebrows furrow in shock, ignoring the burning feeling that immediately resurfaces as he shifts, "No, Jungkook, you don't have to—" He cuts you off with a kiss, hand reaching up to caress your cheek in a much softer manner than the majority of your night.
"When have I ever not let you cum?" He muses after breaking the kiss, his thumb slipping from the edge of your jaw to press against your lips. Your heart is beating at the fucking sweetheart above you, your lips parting slightly to take in the finger of his inked, calloused hand into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around it, gathering as much spit onto it as you can, just as he taught you, before using your tongue to push it out of your mouth. He smirks at the action, shaking his head as a train of saliva runs from his hand to your mouth. "Fucking filthy," Jungkook hums, his hand falling between you and connecting to your clit before the spit falls off his thumb.
Not that he needed the extra moisture, because you are fucking soaked, he flicks at your nub gently, satisfied as you shudder slightly at the contact. His overstimulated cock pulses inside you, the heat of your pussy making him release a strained breath before he pulls back out and begins to fuck you again. You can't even be shocked at his stamina at this point, many nights before having proven that he is fucking insatiable, pulling four of five orgasms out of you before turning in.
It doesn't take long before you're teetering on the edge of bliss again; the crude sounds of Jungkook's cum inside you, squelching around his cock as he slides in and out of you, are fucking erotic, arousing you even further. "Listen to thattttt," he groans at the noise, his overstimulation long forgotten as he gets lost in you again. 
"Oh," you cry at his nasty words, "my shit. Shit. Shit. Shit!" You can't even form a sensible sentence, the pleasure becoming too much. Your back lifts off the bed slightly as Jungkook's hand follows your cunt when it tries to cower away. "God! Please!" You wail as his hand slips, the juices coming out of you causing his hand to slide around messily. He chuckles at the absolutely filthy sight; it's the best thing he's ever fucking seen.
"Good fucking girl. My gooood. Fucking. Girl." He praises as you grip his bedsheets in anguish, your body shaking, breath stuck in your throat as your head lifts toward the ceiling. Your mouth drops open as the band breaks, the tears that were sitting idle beneath your lashes finally spilling out, a loud sob spewing through your lips as you cum. Your orgasm is intense, ears ringing as Jungkook drags it out as much as he possibly can before you're shrivelling away, falling back into his mattress in exhaustion.
You groan lowly as Jungkook slowly pulls himself out of you, grabbing the shirt he discarded halfway through your activity off the floor and using it to capture the liquid that drools out of you. You giggle at the sight, swatting him with your foot as he wipes, "That's disgusting," you cry at his use of a dirty t-shirt to clean you up.
"It's clean! I chucked it on just before you came in," he assures with a smirk, continuing his action and ignoring the eye-roll you throw him. Then, suddenly, your eyes widen, and you all but scramble off his bed, diving for your clothes on the ground before shoving them over your head. He laughs softly at your haste before pulling his own sweatpants back on, minus the underwear. He's about to head to the shower, an invitation to you dangling on the tip of his tongue as he watches you fix your hair and makeup in his mirror. He watches in amusement as you manage to tame your hair but fail to fix the smudged eyeliner at the root of your waterline, giving up with a huff and looking over to him with a teasing glare, "This is your fault."
His shoulders rise slightly, and his mouth is pulled into a faux pout when you deliver a soft smack to his arm, making your way to his bedroom door. He turns to finally head into his ensuite and shower before your strangled gasp meets his ears. He spins around quickly, confusion coating his features before his eyes trail to what you're fixated on.
Taehyung is sitting on the couch, legs crossed beneath him, AirPods in his ears as he munches on a slice of pizza. Your brother looks up when he feels your presence and nods in greeting. Then, fishing one of the earbuds from his ear, he waves the piece of the pie in his hand toward you. You're frozen in your spot, every word in your vocabulary flying out of your head as you're rendered speechless. Your brother pauses the show on his phone before swallowing his mouthful, "Pizza's here."
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part two out now💗: click here
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arminsumi · 7 months
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Seeing ex!Geto again after years
💗 すぐる
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note : srry to make y'all cry 👍 this was written from a raw heart lol
summary : oh god, he still loves you. oh god. all of it comes back to him in the moment he sees you. you say his name and it feels like a gunshot wound to the chest.
warnings : angst, kinda hopeful ending, not proofread
playme : my love mine all mine
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In the moment you turn to face the stranger, the world stops. Or at least the world between you and him. You always did "live in your own world" when you were dating, everyone pointed it out.
When Suguru sees you for the first time after not talking to you for... what, a year? He's so stricken. His eyes widen. His pupils dilate a bit. The color drains from his face. He doesn't know what he feels, but it's a snapping shattering breaking ruining feeling.
And when you, so shocked as you are, whisper his name with a chip in your voice "Suguru...?" It's like a gunshot wound to his heart. Bang. It kills him. And god it's only his name, isn't it crazy that the effect is so severe?
It has such a hold on him, you saying his name. He can't move; he's stationary, statue-like just like you in the middle of this cafe. He's paralyzed by your voice. The voice that used to sing him to sleep. The voice that used to talk philosophy with him at 2:32 AM on school nights. The voice that was the only thing that calmed him down during his darkest hours.
He stutters. No words come out of him or you, and yet so much is said. So much is said.
"Hey." he chokes out.
"Hey." you return.
Isn't it funny, he thinks when he gets home and slumps against the door after closing it.
How we used to speak until we ran out of breath, until we exhausted all topics possible. And then stared with pure love at each other in silence...
...and yet when you encountered each other in public by chance again, nothing but "hey"? He used to tell you that he was gonna spend his whole life with you. He used to call you baby. He used to cradle you in his arms. He used to love you vehemently. He used to kiss you until he gasped for air and laughed. He used to smile into those kisses. He used to swear he was yours, all yours. He etched your name into his skin, not figuratively; when you were teenagers you were fucking insane and giggled over the idea of etching your names into each other.
Sad. So sad. He feels his whole chest weighted, gravity pulls on his heart like it's pulling him into a grave.
While in bed, he stares at your phone number in his contacts. He blocks and unblocks. He types and deletes. He calls and ends calls. He nibbles his lip and sighs and gives up.
What would I even say...?
The image of a memory from September 21st 2019 flashes in his eyes. Your smiling face. Okinawa.
He snaps. And calls you. And it rings, rings rings rings rings rings —
"...hello? Whose number is this?" you ask, voice sending a shiver down his spine.
Fuck, that voice. That voice... is capable of murder. You kill me, baby. You kill me with your voice alone.
He makes a strangled noise. Tears roll off his cheeks. There's so many tears in fact. So many. Endless. It hurts him to shed every single one. And all his tears are for you.
"...Suguru, is that you?"
How could she know?
He chokes up and stutters, and says the quietest "hey" after clearing his throat.
It's 1:30 AM.
"You're still a night owl?"
There's tense silence............................................then you chuckle and it fucking breaks him. Devastates him. Tortures him so deliciously. Oh he missed that. Oh god he missed that. That laugh. That laugh is so beautiful to him. It's so brief and yet it nourishes his whole soul just to hear your laugh again. Oh god your laugh. Oh god... your voice.
Oh god, you.
"I am, yeah." you respond. "But you're awake too, aren't you?"
I want to hear her say my name again.
"I am..."
Please say my name again.
"You are."
Baby say my name. Say my name. Say my name.
There's silence. He knows, and you know, that the both of you are feeling flashbacks of memories crashing over the two of you like tidal waves. Memories of you and him.
Us.
"...did you ever think of me?" you ask.
"...I thought of you every day from the moment we parted."
You choke up. You laugh to cope with his revelation.
"How dramatic..." he can hear your voice grow hoarse, like you're in pain but trying to be funny. Because... it is funny, isn't it? This insanity we call reality?
"Sorry..."
"I've got to sleep... got work tomorrow."
"Me too."
"Okay..."
"Yeah."
"Hey?"
"Yeah?"
He holds his breath.
"Suguru."
His whole world... god, it's... he just... he...
"Y/n."
The two of you hang up.
A few minutes pass. Then the two of you call each other again. It's you calling him. His heart thumps hard. His chest is so tight.
"...hey."
"...hey."
And then... well, it's... it's just like the old days. But different. But still... that old feeling engulfs you and him during this phone call.
A phone call that starts at 1 AM and ends at 5 AM.
Dawn comes. When birds chirp.
And the two of you pass out while talking, the phone call still going. You wake up and see that he never ended the call after saying he would once you fell asleep.
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pretty as a vine (sweet as a grape)
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pairing: luke castellan x reader summary: luke castellan might be everyone's favorite councilor over the summer. he might be a little too sweet for you in the fall. word count: 1.7k warnings: none
authors note: thank you to @wlntrsldler for letting me steal this concept from you even if making luke a real tried and true loser was a struggle. hope y'all enjoy!!
It was rare to see Camp Half-Blood’s golden boy without his signature smile on his face; always ready to help, always ready to please. 
You’d only had a handful of conversations with Luke Castellan, passing words in the height of hectic summer heat. Most of them in the middle of the night, when all the campers should be tucked away in the cabins, but you’d take the brief moments of quiet to wander the grounds with a lit cigarette hanging off your lips. 
Luke would approach you every time, always the same way, a pink flush on his cheeks and a quiet, timid voice telling you that he had to enforce the rules, that he had to send you back to your cabin because it was past curfew.
You’d roll your eyes, lick your lips, wave the smoke obscuring your view of him away playfully and promise to head back after this one. He’d nod and walk away, and you’d pretend not to notice his silhouette hidden behind one of the trees, not quite obscured enough by the lack of lighting to go wholly unnoticed, waiting for you to make your way back to where you’re supposed to be. 
He was sweet, too sweet, sometimes. Making sure you were safe, that nothing bad would happen to you even after taking his supposed leave. It was cute, really, how he acted around you underneath the starlight, always so nervous and flustered, like he’d never seen a woman before. You supposed, confined to the parameters of camp for so many years, he really hadn’t seen many of them.
It’s something you carry with you this year, watching as summer fades into fall, how camp suddenly empties. You’re not sure what to make of it, how still everything seems now, how the usual noise dampens into almost nothing and you itch for the hurriedness of July to return. 
You’re lucky, really, to have spent so long exploring the world beyond camp, seeing what growing up had to offer as if it were normal. A lot of the kids you see now, they haven’t experienced a half of what you have, trading high school for battling dragons at someone else’s request, and it shows each year like clockwork. 
If you’re honest, hidden behind the treeline near the lake, camp makes you uneasy like this. Less busy, less extreme - walking the thin line between a place to train and a place to live - and it has you more on edge than before. It could be that you’ve grown accustomed to the bustle of the Boston streets. It might just be that Luke has been hiding just beyond view since you lit your cigarette.
“I know, I know,” you say when he finally approaches. He stumbles, familiar flush blotching the skin of his neck, climbing the tips of his ears. “Just let me finish this one.” 
He nods and you wait for him to walk away, follow his usual path back into the forest. He doesn’t, standing on the damp grass nearby without saying a word, and you look at him again. 
You’re used to seeing Luke Castellan in different forms - it’s part of how he lives. Nervous and unsure and so confident with a sword that it’s a little insane that he’s the same person during training as is standing in front of you now. 
He’s got this little dip to his shoulders, fingers tapping against his own thigh as you stare at him. His curls are slightly longer than when summer started, curling around his ears and resting just above his brows. He’s got a sweatshirt on, dark green and oversized, and his teeth sink into his bottom lip the longer you take to look away. 
“You can head back,” you say eventually, flicking ash to the ground at your feet. “I promise to be good and go straight to bed.” 
It’s not meant to be anything, merely an assurance. But there’s this way Luke reacts to it, how his fingers stop tapping in favor of clenching his first, how he breathes deeper for a few breaths, how he swallows around nothing, that ignites something under your skin. Makes you want to push that little bit further. 
“You really need to stop coming out after curfew,” he mumbles in the end, tucking his hands into the front pocket of his sweater. It’s soft and a little warm and you wonder if it’s the humidity or Luke himself that’s responsible. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
“You’re sweet, Castellan,” you crush the butt of your cigarette out, brushing past him to start the trek back to your cabin. “It’s kind of adorable.” 
You hear him suck in a breath. You don’t hear his footsteps directly behind you as you walk through the foliage. You kind of wish you’d turned around to see the blush rise on his cheeks. 
Maybe you will next time.
*
Next time doesn’t come for weeks. It gives you space to observe Luke now, when he’s being pulled in fewer directions, when there’s lower expectations. You learn that neither of those things exist where Luke is concerned; that he has this inability to not be helpful, to not put himself forward when no one else will. He somehow takes up more responsibilities as fall gets underway, smiling wide when you know you’d be stretched thin. 
It’s admirable, to a point, and you want to know how he does it.
A few years ago, you convinced yourself Luke was only on when the sun shone brightest. Watching him demonstrate a throw to a young Athena kid, you think he might be the sun itself. 
“Nice arm,” is what you greet him with when the little girl runs off, ball in hand. He pauses his hands where they rest on the fabric of his pants, still slightly bent at the knees from helping and lips parted as he glances up at you. “She seemed happy.” 
“She just needed some help with the technique.”
He shrugs and stands to actually face you. 
Mid-afternoon at camp has never really sat well with you. Always slower, sun burning and campers left to fill their own time before dinner. You’ve never really known what to do with it; Luke squints at the grounds before you as if he’s searching for who needs him next.
“Do you ever take a break?” Is what you say when the silence drags on for too long. 
Luke blinks, lips parting. A group of Hephaestus kids laugh from down by the lake. You wait. 
“I go to bed at midnight.”
“And what time do you wake up?” You kick at the grass below your feet, taking in how Luke stumbles for an answer, brown eyes darting each way as if it’ll fall from the sky. 
“The apollo kids really love watching the sunrise,” he chokes out in the end, digging his hands into his pockets. You wonder if he thinks it makes his nerves less obvious. “It’s a really nice sunrise.” 
“Come watch it with me tomorrow.”
You say it partly for the reaction itself. That same quick breath Luke takes each time you say something that shocks him, the red tint to his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the harsh movement of his adams’ apple. You kind of also really want to see how Luke Castellan changes between day and night - if it’s a version of him you just haven’t read yet. 
You don’t mention that you’ll have to force yourself out of bed, unused to early rising. 
He nods, three quick nods like he thinks you’ll take it back if he’s not enthusiastic enough. 
You smile then. “I’ll see you later, Luke.”
*
He meets you where he usually does, further north than anyone tends to go at any hour, let alone this early. There’s less hesitation to his steps than a few nights ago, your invitation dangling between you both something like a promise. 
“I’m not gonna bite,” you say when he stops just short of the rock you’ve claimed. You glance over at where he’s just feet away, bright orange camp tee peeking out from his grey hoodie. “It’s too early for that.”
“Oh.” 
There’s some shuffling before Luke is perching himself on the stone next to you. He’s close enough to touch from here, the makeshift seat just barely big enough for two people to share, and you take in how he tucks his hands into his pockets, makes himself take up as little room as possible. 
Outside of his swordsmanship, you’ve never seen Luke take up much space at all.
“This is nice,” he says eventually, the sun starting to peer over the lake. 
There’s something almost beautiful about what the sunrise does for him, you realise. Neither of you have moved, Luke’s gaze still locked on the horizon, but you’ve transferred your attention to him. You’ve seen the lake enough times. You’ve never seen Luke Castellan’s chest rising and falling with each steady breath, or the way his eyes turn a little gold when the sun hits them just right. How he relaxes in the autumn chill.
“You’re really pretty, Luke.”
It slips past your lips before it fully forms in your mind. His head snaps to the side, cheeks flushing and lips parted. You hadn’t meant to say it, too caught up in the slow start to the morning, but it’s out there and you don’t want to take it back.
“Such a pretty boy,” you mutter, shaking your head. 
“I-“ Luke starts, before clearing his throat. You see his hands twitch in his pockets. “What?” 
You twist on the rock underneath you, lifting your legs so they’re crossed, knees brushing the edge of Luke’s thigh. His eyes drop at the movement.
This should feel weird at camp. You’d fallen into the habit of flirting back in Boston, something to fill the gaps and score you a cigarette when you really needed help to get them. Never like this though - like the moment was delicate and its shattering was solely in your hands. 
The ability to shatter Luke Castellan, Camp Half-Blood’s golden boy, rests on your shoulders in an early sunrise.
When his breath hitches as you push yourself closer, you think you’d like to watch him shatter in the sunlight. 
Pretty doesn’t even come close when it happens.
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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months
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Vox x Reader Headcanons: Fiancé Edition
Fiancé!Vox x gn!Reader
A/N: MY BRAINROT IS BRAINROTTING OKAY I JUST NEEDED TO DUMP THIS STUFF SOMEWHERE AFTER SEEING ALL THE WIFEY ALASTOR AND LUCIFER STUFF- LIKE I LOVE THOSE TWO BUT LEMME YEET IN MY BELOVED SAMSUNG TV NOW YALL- THIS COULD MOST LIKELY BE OOC COMPARED TO CANON BUT LIKE- LET ME DREAM I WANT THIS FLATSCREEN SO BAD P L E A A A S E-
A/N: This little thingy would have both an SFW and NSFW portion, mostly because I'm a depraved little shit and I am downbad for a 7ft bipedal television with issues-
SFW HEADCANONS:
Now first off, y'all probably would've been dating a long long while before this mans would pop the question.
I feel like he'd know that he wants to marry you, but he's so unsure of it plus he's concerned about how that would affect you in all of it.
Like, oh great if this gets out suddenly you've got one of the biggest targets on your back because you're the technology overlord's fiance and soon to be wife/husband.
As if you hadn't already when you both started dating-
Vox is a perfectionist so I'd imagine he would try so so hard to get everything completely flawless for his proposal.
But nothing goes his way that day, none, nada, zilch-
That's just his luck, totally not because it got screwed over by a certain radio demon for shits and giggles.
But he ends up asking you anyway, though a bit indirectly because it slips during his irritated rant.
"I can't believe they managed to spill wine all over me back there! All over one of my best suits as well!"
"Hun, we could always send your suit to the professional cleaners. It's okay! We can always just go someplace else next time too-"
"No! That- ugh! I had all these plans today and they were just ruined! I wanted everything to be absolutely perfect for when I was going to propose to you-"
"You were gonna what-"
Vox immediately shut up once he realized his screwup then.
So much for keeping it a surprise!
That's kind of how you ended up with a diamond ring on your finger that night.
And that's how Vox ended that really stressful day with an extremely satisfying night.
He ditched work the next day and just spent it being all over you.
Yes he admires the ring on your hand from time to time, this man just stares.
You can betcho ass that ring is expensive as fuck too.
Like as if this man didn't kiss your hands enough, that new accessory marking a new chapter of your afterlives just makes him do it more.
He's actually kinda housewife material if you squint-
This man can cook and clean, and as a bonus he's filthy stinkin RICH.
Bro I need me one of these holy shit-
If he wasn't clingy enough before, oh boy get ready for this.
He will always have an appendage on you at all times, a hand on your lower back, your hip, in your hand-
Or he'd just have you in his lap while he worked on stuff in his office.
Also, Vox being possessive as all hell if someone so much as just stared at you too long-
Please that goes straight up to 1000% when you agreed to wear that ring.
You guys planning to get hitched doesn't stay secret for too long though.
With Valentino and Velvette sticking their noses in Vox's business as a daily pastime anyhow-
Hence why a lot of sinners started shipping you two.
And oh goodness the ship wars.
Sometimes Vox wishes the internet wasn't really connected to his brain-
The magazines went wild with that one too-
Cuz imagine, the richest and the pride ring's probably most esteemed bachelor-
Aside from Lucifer probably, Vox's marketing and PR team are insanely good at their jobs-
Was now off the market and due to get hitched with you.
I'd imagine even if Vox doesn't post anything on social media, you or Vel would-
Literally like those married couples on TikTok or something with a whole bunch of cute shit.
You can best believe the most cracked out shit happens while you're both engaged though.
"Oh this is Vox, he's my ex-boyfriend."
"... You have got to stop saying that. I'm their fiancé."
You did not stop saying that.
Actually you wouldn't stop saying that even when his title upgraded to husband.
Not that Vox cares, your shenanigans were what caused him to gravitate towards you in the first place.
And until now they're what keep your relationship fun and interesting.
"Hey hubby, ooooh~ you're looking like the hottest thing in all of the pride ring despite having just rolled out of bed."
"Hahaha, good morning to you too doll."
It doesn't register what you called him at first until he's had his coffee and then it clicks.
You play it off attempting to be coy until he replays the video of you greeting and calling him that on his face.
His. Face.
Sneaky little shit that's what-
He doesn't really respond to any other petname now, you've dug your grave.
"Vox."
"Vox."
"Vooooooxxxx-"
"What? What?? What do you want???"
"Can you peel this orange for me?"
"Really? That's it? Why don't you peel it yourself?"
"Because it tastes better when you do it?"
He does it eventually, hell if he's in a particularly good mood he'll even feed you.
That's always kind of how it goes when you ask him for things.
If it's something you want/can buy though?
You're already in possession of his credit card, just get whatever tf you want HAHAHAHA-
He's still a busy bastard though so it's not really much different from how it's like when you guys were dating-
But he genuinely tries to balance his work a little better to spend more time with you.
This man is such a workaholic though you end up having to drag his ass out of his office to rest anyway.
Again, nothing new from when you were just dating.
You guys jokingly throw around your soon to be marital titles in private.
Vox kind of feels like a kid in a candy store when you do, just giddy and excited for what's to come.
Not to mention he now has a partner in crime when he riffs on Alastor!
He'd be over the MOON if you just joined his chaos.
The radio demon probably wouldn't give a shit, he's just built different like that-
You both get so comfortable that you almost forget that you have a wedding to plan and set a date for.
Until Velvette asks about it and you're both just: "Oh. Right."
Your fiancé's schedule is so fucking packed though it was nearly impossible to.
This guy was going to work himself to death before you could tie the knot lmao-
But eventually you both got a date and venue settled, so that was one step closer.
NSFW HEADCANONS:
Okay so like, I know sinners can't actually copulate unless you're Lucifer but that's besides the point-
And Vox isn't really a family man at all-
But boy oh boy if he didn't have it before-
This man would have an insane breeding kink after you both got engaged.
This man wants to see you stuffed.
Literally doesn't matter if you're riding him or he's just impaling you on his cock-
This guy just wants to fill you up so bad.
I'd also think that you guys would be screwing around a lot more often after he popped the question-
Something about emotions constantly running high and dopamine being one hell of a drug.
I think Vox is a switch, so I'd also imagine he'd be more inclined to let you dom him every now and then.
Or when he just wants to be a bratty little shit please go ahead and tame him, he likes it.
You can kind of get away with more stuff when you're both engaged.
Like tease him a whole ton and he just bites hook, line and sinker.
It's already gotten to the point where the power in the tower would die often enough that Velvette herself has gone through some crazy lengths to cockblock her colleague.
Speaking of, Vox would probably use you as a stress reliever after work if you let him-
Like he will just fuck you stupid until all you say is his name because this guy is addicted to hearing it.
Or he'd let you fuck him stupid until he's so far into sub space he forgets about his shitty day.
Cuz if it's rough, it's rough with you two.
But on the gentler side-
It's just as addicting and if not probably a little worse.
Though you would probably be the one taking initiative/domming whenever you both have gentle rounds.
I'm all for Vox being able to switch some of his parts cuz he wanted to/can.
So y'all have fucking choices when it comes to wrecking this idiot.
Like a multiple choice exam, literally shotgun the fuck outta those answers like you deteriorate his mental.
And consequently the entire city's power grid.
"GODDAMNIT! VOX! (Y/N)! NOT AGAIN!!"
543 notes · View notes
borathae · 2 months
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↳ Full Art
"You run in on Yoongi touching himself in the shower and he begs you to punish him because of it. Hard."
Pairing: Yoongi x n.Reader
Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut
Warnings: sub!Yoongi, masochist!Yoongi, rough Dom!Reader, he is naked and wet, CBT, cock slapping, safe ball busting with a knee, leaky cocks, dirty talk, degradation, he wants to be called dirty/bad slut, hair pulling, subby boy tears, drool, praise, handjob, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (m.receiving), Yoongi has a kink for being manhandled, male masturbation in shower, nipple sucking, cuddly aftercare, he's just a cute lil masochist who wants his balls busted and get hugs after <3
Wordcount: 2.5k
a/n: okay so, I'm trying trying the new format. istfg besties, Patreon is so stressful I might actually cry. idk how to do it so I'll like it 😭 okay so, my idea is that i'll post the story and a very cropped art preview (as seen on the header) here on Tumblr and if anyone wants to check out the full art to the story, they have to go to my Patreon. Engagement as far as stories is concerened is very bad on Patreon *glares* and I really miss yelling about the stories with you guys. So for my own peace of mind, i'll keep the stories on Tumblr and give all my true connoisseurs something extra spicy to thirst over on Patreon hehe <3 thank you for being patient with me. I promise to keep drawing and improving and to feed y'all thirsty hoes (affectionately) as much as I can 💜 also lmao those are long a/n fjajsdf have fun besties sorry it took a lil longer today, i tried to figure out how i wanna do sexy art of the month from now on fajdjfs
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The bathroom is fogged up and smells heavily like Yoongi’s soap. Masculine, clean and expensive. You find yourself hazy because of it. What truly seals the state of you, however, is the view. Mirrors misted up, air milky from steam and right there in his expensive walk-in shower, Yoongi is having his throbbing cock in his tight fist. The water is turned off right now, but his body is still wet. His dark hair is slicked back, his silky skin is glistening and his head is tilted back in bliss as soft sighs slip past his pouty lips. 
You walked in on him touching himself. You really didn’t plan on doing so, but can’t seem to get yourself to leave. Or to stop staring for that matter.
He has a languid rhythm going. Slow, but clearly skilled. His long fingers are wrapped tightly around his veiny cock. His thumb is drawing circles on his flushed tip and pretty frenulum. He is sensitive there, likes it especially when someone is being gentle with it. His dark nipples are hard and the pale skin around them is flushed as if he had played with them moments before. Knowing Yoongi, he did. He is such a slut for nipple play. He is so fucking tender there. 
“Fuck”, Yoongi presses out breathily, gliding his left hand up his own torso as he fucks his cock slowly. 
He is tensing and relaxing his stomach, broadening his stance as his knees wobble. He furrows his brows, biting down on his lower lip as small mewls leave him repeatedly. His long fingers close around his own biceps, giving it a needy squeeze. Look at the marks he leaves, look at how he is tensing his muscles.
You find yourself gulping and taking heavy breaths at the view.
What made him so goddamn needy? 
One thing Yoongi rarely does, is to jerk off. He sees it as something useless because if he gets horny, he has you to take the burden off his shoulders. He also rarely gets horny without you in the first place, so there is that. So to have him so incredibly lost in masturbation is rare and therefore insanely addicting.
What made him so needy? Was it a memory? A fantasy? A picture or video? Was it nothing of that sorts and he merely touched his cock wrong as he cleaned himself? Did the water hit the right spot and trap him in the delicious sensation of its wet massage? 
What did it to him?
“___”, Yoongi moans loudly, leaking onto the floor.
Your stomach clenches. Holy fuck. You did it to him. You did. The thought of you, the memory of your touch and the image of you did it to him. You let out a small gasp at the realisation.
Yoongi startles at the sound and opens his eyes. He stops, tenses up. You freeze, holding your breath. The air between you and him is tense and electric. He blinks at you, mouthing your name quietly.
“I uhm”, you begin, clearing your throat loudly.
He drops his hand from his biceps, tightening his fingers around his cock. He can’t seem to leave his trance of shock. The only indicator that the view of you is turning him on, is his increasing breathing and how needily his long fingers still hold his cock.
“I uhm, sorry. I wasn’t staring, I mean, I was but I- sorry, I uhm, I’m gonna leave now”, you stutter and turn to leave.
“Help me.” 
You halt, wobbling slightly because he is making your knees buckle. You turn around, dancing your eyes over his body.
“Sorry?” 
“Help me. Please”, he begs and tugs at his cock weakly, biting down on his lower lip as he does. Look at the needy kitten eyes he is making at you. 
“Really?” you get out, feeling dizzy at the view. You want to ruin this man. You really do.
He nods his head, lowering his eyes at you. He is taunting you as much as he is begging you.
You do not bother to take off your clothes, he only has to nod his head twice and then you are already in the shower, eating him up with just your eyes. 
Yoongi cups your face and kisses you. He mewls needily as he does it, sucking on your lips and tongue more than he actually kisses you. It is so lazy, so slow and yet so intensely passionate. He is so lost in you, so entirely addicted to your taste that he is solely running on it. Whatever he fantasised about before really did it to him. You feel up his torso hungrily, moaning at the delicious taste of him.
He is shivering with each touch, chasing the feeling of you with wiggles of his hips which force his cock to grind against your clothed stomach. The fabric of your hoodie feels rough against his sensitive tip. He craves the silkiness of your skin like plants crave sunlight.
He breaks the kiss with a sigh of your name, resting his forehead against yours. 
“I was bad”, he breathes.
“You were?” you are kneading his waist, staring at his flushed face with hazy eyes.
“Yeah. Thought of you ‘til I got needy”, he rasps and mewls quietly, mouthing at the tip of your nose, “touched myself to you.”
“Fuck, Yoongi.”
“Punish me.” 
“Punish you?” 
“Please.”
You step back and pick up his cock so you could slap his tip. Gently for now, to test the waters. 
Yoongi moans loudly, squeezing your cheeks softly. His knees buckle slightly.
“Like this, mhm?” you ask, slapping him again. Soft. Careful. Get him used to it. Or needy for more. You are fine with both options as long as it ends in your boyfriend panting and needy.
He scrunches his face in pleasure, letting out a shaky “mh-hm” before he follows it up with a breathy, “don’t stop please.” 
“Fuck Yoongi, you’re driving me insane. You’re so hot.”
“I’m a bad slut”, he croaks.
“Yeah, the fucking worst. Bad slut, such a bad slut”, you growl, giving him harsh spanks. Now that you know he wants it, you are so happy to give it to him.
He takes each of your spanks with a blissed moan and a twitch of his cock. His pink tip got so much pinker ever since you started playing with him. His chest is flushed as well, looking so untouched.
You take his heavy cock between your fingers and pick up his favourite rhythm. Then you step closer to litter his chest with kisses. Wet and sloppy. You need to mark his skin as yours and taste him in the process.
Yoongi arches his back, dropping his head against the glass behind him. Your name slips past his lips, his hands grab your waist and squeeze. 
“You’re a bad slut, Yoongi love, but you’re such a pretty slut at that”, you rasp and take his left nipple between your teeth. You tug on it, making him moan. You suck on it, making him mewl. You lick it, making him sigh your name.
He is tender there. Just as you said.
And as you give him heaven with just your mouth, your hands are busy feeling him up. Your right hand fucks his cock like it deserves to be fucked, while your left hand feels up his waist and hips. He fits so perfectly between your fingers. It is like he is made to be touched by you and only you. His skin is so soft and warm, leaving behind wetness on your fingertips from the previous shower. His cock is twitching so cutely in your hold.
You lift your lips from his right nipple after worshiping it as well, tilting your head so you are looking at his pretty face. You cup his pink cheek.
“Look at me.”
Yoongi obeys, fluttering his lashes at you. He is breathing so heavily, gazing at you as if you were his fucking everything.
“You’re a pretty slut. You know that, don’t you?”
He nods his head, choking out a shy “yeah.”
“You do. Good. Don’t forget it, kitten”, you order and slow your hand around his tip. It sits between your fingers. You increase the pressure slightly and move your hand again. Just a little, just enough that he’s getting fucked so good.
Yoongi gasps, widening his eyes for just a second before rolling them back.
“No, no look at me.”
Yoongi obeys with a mewl of your name.
“That’s better. I wanna look at your pretty eyes.”
“I have to cum”, he moans.
“Cause you’re looking at me?”
He nods his head, leaking all over your palm, “can’t hold it…like…this.”
“God, you lovedrunk slut, you”, you tease, giving his favourite spot a good rub.
“Please”, he begs, “please, can I cum?”
“Mhhm, don’t know. Do you deserve it?”
“Please I, mghm, I’ll give you head later”, he bargains with the prettiest kitten eyes.
“Obviously, you’re gonna do that anyways. Do better, Yoongi slut”, you warn, slowing down dangerously.
“Please”, he begs louder and thrusts his hips into your fist. 
It earns him a harsh spank, “behave.”
“Fuck please. I-I’ll cockwarm you, promise I, I won’t move. Please.” 
“But Yoongi, where is the fun in that? I’ll do that anyways. You know that bad, dirty jerk off sluts get cockwarmed”, you coo as your skilled fingers torture his flushed tip. He is burning up, smearing his precum all over your digits. 
“I have to cum so bad”, he croaks and spills tears, “please can I cum? I’ll be so good please.” 
“Fine. You can cum”, you say calmly even if your hand is giving his cock such a good fuck. He didn’t convince you, you just simply have a better way to ruin him how he so clearly craves.
“___”, he moans and closes his eyes sensually. Moments later, his swollen cock releases all over your hand. His knees buckle, he finds support by grabbing your shoulders and arching his back. His moan is loud and drawn-out.
“Look at you”, you moan with him, speeding up your hand now that he is giving you such a good show, “good slut, cum for me. That’s my good slut.”
Yoongi is shaking and trembling in bliss, but soon begins shaking and trembling for other reasons. You aren’t slowing down. His balls are empty, his cock so overstimulated, but you aren’t slowing down. You jerk off his cock as if it has a debt to pay, giving him burning heaven in the process. 
He finally realises what he signed up for and that your sweet words were nothing but deception. He didn’t convince you. You aren’t done with him. One wasn’t enough. 
“Please, please, pl-please”, he begs, trying to flee you as much as chases you. 
“One more, kitten. Give me one more.” 
“I can’t. Oh god, I can’t”, he mewls and stumbles as he tries to flee.
You grab him and pin him against the glass harshly, knocking a weak gasp out of him. His knees buckle, his teary eyes gaze at you with all the devotion he can muster. He loves when you’re rough with him, when you show him that he is yours to manhandle.
“Give me more”, you growl, speeding up around his cock.
“No please”, Yoongi mewls and tries to wiggle away just so you can put him back in his place. He parts his legs, hoping that you take the silent hint.
You do. Of course you do. You lift your knee against his balls hard enough that it hurts. Yoongi folds into himself with a pained moan, grabbing your waist. He is already so fucking hard again, throbbing in your hand as if he never released before. 
“Stop fleeing me”, you growl and knee him again, twisting your hand around his burning tip at the same time. 
Yoongi sobs, burying his face in your shoulder. It hurts so much. He has never been so fucking high on pleasure before. It feels so good. Yoongi swears every second is the best second he ever experienced.
“Understood? You do not flee me”, you give his tender balls one last harsh nudge with your knee, then grab his hair to pull his head back. 
He coughs out a sob, spilling tears and drool all down his pretty face. He can barely even keep his eyes open, let alone stop them from crossing. 
He is so pretty. 
“What’s with that pretty face?” you challenge, pumping his overstimulated cock quickly as you grind your knee against his balls at the same time. 
“Yours”, he croaks.
“That’s right. Mine. My pretty slut.”
“You’re making me cum.” 
“See? I knew you could give me more. Don’t hold back, slut.”
“Knee. Please.” 
You knee him a fourth time. Yoongi wails up, folding into himself in both pain and pleasure before spilling all over your hoodie and his stomach. So his balls weren’t empty yet. Of course they weren’t. You are proving to him how much of a slut he actually is.
He melts into you, shaking on your knee as your name leaves him like his prayer of bliss.
“Good slut, give me everything. Such a good slut. That’s so much better, I knew one wasn’t enough. Your pretty balls are never empty after only one. That’s it. Good slut”, you talk him through it, holding him safely as your hand milks him dry.
Soon Yoongi slacks into you, grabbing your wrist to stop your movements.
“No more.”
You don’t listen just to tease him, giving his burning tip a tight massage. He trembles and writhes, squeezing your wrist.
“Stop.”
You are going to stop, but first you need to tease him just a little more. A few more squeezes and rubs, a little pump and tug.
“Please”, he begs breathily, wiggling his hips away from you.
“You’re so cute”, you coo and finally drop his ruined cock.
“Thank you”, he sighs and sinks into you, hugging you tightly as he recovers.
You hug him back, tracing his spine.
“How was that, mhm?” you ask him, speaking in a soft voice.
He nods his head slowly, humming. 
“Yeah? Was it good for you?” 
“Was perfect”, he lulls and purrs contently, “thank you. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Oh god, I need to lie down now”, he says and chuckles, “my balls are so fucking tender.”
“I can imagine. I kicked them really hard. Are you okay? Should I get something for the pain?”
He shakes his head, “you did it so right. Thank you so much.”
You smile, “that’s good to hear. You’re such a good boy.”
Yoongi nuzzles his nose against your neck and purrs softly, melting under your praise. You know exactly how to love him.
“I love you so much”, he mumbles.
“I love you too.”
“I actually wanna lie down though.”
You chuckle, “okay, okay let’s get you cleaned up and cozy. You’re gonna get back scratches in bed”, you say as you lead him to the shower head.
“And ear rubs.”
“And ear rubs. As my prince wishes”, you say and turn on the water to wash away the mess he left. Yes, you will change into different clothes, “how’s the temperature, love?”
“Good. Nice.”
“Yeah? Is it good how I’m touching you?” you ask as you clean his cock and balls with gentle fingers.
He nods his head, “hm.”
“Good. God, Yoongi love, you’re so handsome.” 
Yoongi blushes, lowering his eyes shyly. Yeah, you definitely know how to love him.
436 notes · View notes
adventuringblind · 4 months
Text
Caught in a Lie
Maxiel x Reader
Genre: Smut
Summary: The reader gets caught in Max's shenanigans and decides to take the blame. Daniel isn't happy she lied for Max, third time WDC or not.
Warnings: BDSM, dom/sub, sub reader, switch Max, dom Daniel, spanking, unprotected PinV, Overstimulation, mild denial if you squint, Max being a menace
Notes: I have a website now! It would mean a lot if Y'all checked it out. I'm still working on it but it's a fun creative project. It's still in the works, so if you have suggestions, I will gladly take them.
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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It really wasn't her fault. Max had been the conspirator. She was just the bait. Unknowingly, mind you. The bastard had done this on purpose!
Winning a third title had inflated his ego far too much. They couldn't celebrate properly in Qatar. Alcohol sure, sex had to wait. Not because any of them wanted to, Daniel had made it a point that sex, especially the kind they do, needs to come after races. Thursdays and Fridays can be soft things. Saturdays are an absolute no. Then Sunday comes around, and they are trying to get back to wherever they are staying as fast as possible.
Now, back at home in Monaco, nothing to disturb their peace. They decide to ruin it all by going out. It's one of her least favorite activities. Being in bed with the cat has her name on it. But Max wants to celebrate, and Daniel is social, so she drags herself out of bed.
She should've known something was amiss when Max said he got something for her to wear out. She should've known it was going to end this way when Max whistled at her and laughed, whereas Daniel's eyes had darkened. The familiar look he gets when he wants to absolutely take her apart and build her up piece by euphoric piece.
She'd caught Max's arm on the way out. "What the hell are you playing at?"
"Felt like a show tonight," he shrugs, then winks at her.
The black dress barely covers her ass. It's lacy all over and sheer aside from the important places. She wears stuff like this often since it's something she likes. It doesn't make sense why this would be the thing to drive him insane.
Dancing had been fun. Their other Monaco friends had come out with them to celebrate. Daniel's eyes had burned into her every time she moved. Much to her surprise, he wasn't the only one.
Carlos Sainz is staring at her from the corner. He looks like he's trying desperately not to but failing miserably. He turns away every time she catches him, still exuding confidence.
It's not well known that she's dating Max and Daniel. They've been friends for a long time. Friendship turned into a situationship, which then made them confess. They look like they always do to the outside world. To touchy to simply be platonic but no real announcement that any of the three are taken.
Carlos was staring, Daniel was glaring, Max was smirking, and she was the center of it all. Embarrassment hit her like a train when she realized she'd been played. Max was watching Carlos stare at her and snickering about it.
Feeling insecure, she went to get some air. The joy of feeling nice in a dress Max had picked out now ruined from knowing why he did it. He was playing a game. He could've at least asked first.
Daniel and Max find her outside slumped against the wall. She can still hear Max laughing about something and it's pissing her off.
"Stop laughing at me!" She throws her arms up in defeat and turns her back to them. "I didn't ask to be ogled at by Carlos, Max."
"Then why did you pick that specific dress?" Daniel spins her around and pins her to the wall. A shiver runs up her spine as his breath sticks to her ear. "The exact one Carlos had mentioned wanting to see on a pretty thing like you."
She doesn't know whether to blush or cower. She ends up settling for both at the same time. She debates her options. Either she tells the truth and saves herself, or she takes whatever punishment is coming her way.
Once. She will do this one time for Max since he just won his title.
"I picked it out because I thought it looked nice and you would like it. I swear I didn't know Carlos liked this dress and was going to be here tonight." She's pleading desperately with her voice. Maybe she'll get lucky.
Max has gone oddly silent. She tries not to even look at him, let Daniel figure out she's taking the blame for the Dutch.
Daniel is still staring her down. The silence hanging thick between them until he decides to break it. "Anything to add, Maxy?"
Noticing Daniel's mood, he doesn't answer. A smart move by him. Daniel just hums and grabs her wrist to lead the charge to the car.
None of them speak during the short ride home. She hates every second of it. Daniel is probably mulling over everything he wants to do to her. She feels like a child waiting for their parent to start a lecture.
Daniel waits for them to get their shoes off before turning to face them in the entryway of the apartment. "Where'd you buy the dress from?"
And he'd seen right through it. "I don't remember."
"You don't remember, or you weren't told?"
She winces when his tone goes soft. The one that makes her drop to her knees for him. Well, any tone from Daniel can have that effect on her. This one is just the one that makes her all fuzzy in the head. “I don’t remember,” she whispers.
Daniel sighs heavily. “Alright, if you’re not going to tell me the truth then I guess I’ll have to spank it out of you.” She nearly falls over, but manages to catch herself. “Bedroom, clothes off and on your knees.”
She scrambles to comply. The drop is imminent at this point. She just hopes Max enjoys the show because this will not be happening again. At least, she hopes.
The clothes come off and are folded neatly in a pile. She feels cold, exposed, and bit insecure, and then yet the floaty feeling is threatening to spill over. Her knees digging into the carpet don’t help that.
Max comes into the room silently. Daniel must have said something to him because he kneels next to her. Not a rare occurrence, but is mildly unusual.
“Max.” The stern tone has Max grumbling, but he gets back up off the floor, strips, then kneels again.
Daniel beckons her over to him. Her face is flushed red with embarrassment as she stands between his still covered legs. “You have the choice to tell the truth or not. I’m not mad at you, but I’m sad you felt like you needed to lie about what happened tonight. So, I’m going to keep spanking you until you tell the truth.”
“Yes sir.” It comes out so easily; a second nature now. She lays across his lap, trying to hold back the already threatening tears.
“What are your colors, baby girl?”
“Green is good, yellow is slow down and talk, red is stop.”
“Good, what’s your color?”
“Green.”
She’s probably too far gone already to really say no at this point. She just needs his hands on her in any kind of way.
The first hit shocks her. It’s not the hardest he’s can go by any means, but it still stings. “I’m gonna keep going until I get the truth.” She remains silent and another hit lands to the other side.
The next three have no rhythm and are more towards the tops of her thighs. She whimpers a bit but doesn’t give in. This is for Max. He wanted a show, he won the title, and she’s willing to, unfortunately, provide.
Daniel tugs her hair back and forces her eyes to look at his face. Four more hits and she’s hissing. Each one is harder than the last.
She starts getting hazy around number twenty-five. She's taken more, but the fact that Daniel keeps sweetly telling her she can stop this by telling the truth makes it worse. Like every hit is sending further to the breaking point. Not the good one, mind you, the one where she cries and tells him the whole story.
"Just tell the truth, baby." He lands another five hits in rapid succession. Each one burning more than the last. The tears have started free falling and are making Daniel's leg wet and salty.
"Color baby?"
"Green," She manages to sniffle out. Voice high and cracking. Why is she getting punished again? Oh, right, for Max. It should really be him up here.
The overwhelming urge to do as Daniel says hits somewhere around hit forty. The breaking point has reared its ugly head. She starts bawling her eyes out as the last hit is the hardest she's received thus far. "Yellow!"
Daniel halts any movement. "Did that last one hit too hard?" The softness in his voice only brings more tears.
"I'm sorry!" She drops all her body weight over his legs. "Max got the dress. He said he picked it out for me. I didn't know anything about Carlos. Then, right before he left, I asked him what was going on, and he said he wanted a show. I figured he did just win his title, and I didn't want him to get in trouble, so I lied."
"Oh, baby girl." Daniel helps her up and lays back so she can plaster herself on his chest. "I knew what was going on, but I wanted you to tell the truth. I'm not mad at you, okay?" He runs soothing fingers along her spine. It only makes the tears come harder. "That must've been hard! I'm so proud of you for telling me the truth. I know you wanted to do it for Max, but sometimes Maxy needs to learn his own lesson."
Daniel slides out from underneath her and grabs something from the bedside table. "I'm gonna take care of you now, okay? You did so well. I'm not upset. I just needed to hear the truth." She doesn't hold back the tears as Daniel works on getting her cleaned up. "So good for me," He coos to help her calm down.
She's lost all sense of time. She has no idea of how long she's been over Daniel's or how long he's been cleaning her up for.
She's still splayed out on the bed facing, now facing Max and his solemn expression.
"Here's what we're going to do. Max wanted a show, so that's what he's gonna get since we are celebrating his win." He turns towards Max. The Dutch's knees can't be feeling good at all. Daniel leans down and forces his head upwards. A few seconds at the Australian, then holding on her.
Daniel drags over a chair and rips Max up from the floor. "You are going to sit here and watch. You will not move, you will not touch, you will not make a sounds. Am I clear?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good, color?"
Max looks oddly and achingly hard from her position. It makes her wonder if this is actually what he wanted or if he's just slipping further. It takes more to put max down, but Daniel is good at getting him there if the occasion calls for it.
"Green."
Daniel, much to her relief, finally gets his clothes off. He leaves on his boxers for the moment, though the outline of his hard on is obvious. It has been since they got in the car to come home. “Baby girl, do you want my fingers or my tongue tonight?”
“Tongue please.” Pleasurable shivers run down her spine. Sometimes, she’s convinced that Daniel was molded by Greek gods and sent to live among the humans solely because his tongue can work miracles.
Her head hangs off the bed giving her an upside-down view of Max. His skin has flushed even more since the last time she saw him.
She doesn't get much time to think about it. Daniel's tongue presses against her and she loses herself. He knows her body like it's his favorite book to read, movie to watch, and song to hear.
Her fingers slip easily into his black curls. His hands are on her waist, absolutely buried in her. She's going to feel the bruises soon, but it only adds the pleasure of it.
Her free hand flies to cover her mouth out of habit. She makes it half-way before Daniel snatches her wrist and pins it to her side so he can grip both her hip and her hand.
The strings of moans and profanities leaving her are not even close to the way she can hear Max whining behind her. High pitched and desperate.
Daniel is lapping at her like she's producing healing waters and he'll die without it. Nose bumping against her just right. The grip on her body only getting strong as she writhes around in ecstasy.
"Sir please - need to - please-" It comes out strangled in panted breaths and heavy moans.
He doesn't stop. Never does to tell them yes. Daniel taps her hip with his index finger three times. She jumps over the edge without any kind of hesitation. Plunging herself in the familiar feeling of warmth overwhelming amounts of dopamine and serotonin.
Her back arches. Daniel holds her in place as her body contorts in every direction in an attempt to push him away. He is unmoving wall. A force she can't do anything but submit her body to.
Daniel leaves her alone for a mere minute. Only to drag Max over, fingers clutched around the back of his neck. He slams Max onto the bed and manhandles him until he's right where Daniel wants him.
He then moves to flip her. In between them and still sopping. "Think you can keep Max in your mouth?"
Of course she can, she's done it enough times. The consent thing still makes her melt either way. "Yes, sir."
"Good, I think we've tortured Max enough. We are still celebrating his win, after all." There is a hint of mischief behind Daniel's eyes that doesn't go unnoticed.
Daniel, mouth still wet with her, kisses Max in the sloppiest manner she's ever seen.
She stares in awe for all of ten seconds. Her ogling is cut short by Daniel gripping her hair and shoving Max's length down her throat. She gags at the suddenness but recovers quickly and gets to work.
She can't see what Daniel is doing anymore. Their positioning is not the most convenient for watching. She can hear it though, and It's driving her insane. Max's body is quivering and it's an effort to stay where she is and not bite down every time he jerks in a different direction.
It takes less time than normal for him to spill down her throat. Daniel is quick to rip her off and get her over Max. Her ass still stings from earlier, but she could care less as Daniel plays puppet master and guides Max into her.
It's a stretch, Max certainly isn't small, but she's well adjusted.
She loses her head again when Daniel sets her pace. Max is wrecked from the lack of stimulation into a constant stream of it. Daniel rips off his boxers and slams into Max's mouth. "Bet you wish you hadn't done all that snickering, huh?" Max is so far down that his eyes are rolling at Daniels tone. The gentle one that is condescending enough to make anyone whimper.
Daniel keeps talking, she's registering his voice, but has no idea what he's saying anymore. She can't even hear past her own moans. She can't feel anything besides the hands on her body and the overwhelming number of endorphins flooding her mind.
Kissing. Daniel is kissing her through another jump off an even larger cliff.
Flipped over again. This time Daniel is slamming into at an unholy pace. Maybe Daniel is a fallen angel. To good with his body to stay in heaven, so he brought heaven to the humans.
Fingers. Max's fingers are everywhere. He shoves them down her throat and coos as she mans around them. Rough calloused hands made for drowning her in whatever this cacophony of feelings is.
Her favorite song on replay. Over and over and over again. Never getting old.
She comes back to herself at some point. Nobody has clothes on still. Daniel and Max are gently coaxing her muscles to still.
"Hey baby, you passed out on us." Max's voice is still fuzzy. She groans in response. Every inch of her is in some state of pain, pleasure, or both.
"We're gonna try a bath, okay? I want to help the bruises as much as possible." She nods against Daniel's chest, agreeing that would be a brilliant idea.
"Before we do that though, I want so apologize." Max sounds timid and unsure of himself. His hands wring together in anxiety. "I shouldn't have set that up. It made you both uncomfortable and I should've just asked."
Daniel pulls Max back on top of their cuddle pile. "I would've happily made this happen and I will happily do it again."
That same mischievous glint comes back to Daniel despite the exhaustion. They end up laughing deliriously all the through their aftercare routine.
Yeah, she'd happily do this again too.
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spideyhexx · 4 months
Note
the first time coryo & sej's cocks touched was when reader said she wanted to suck both of them off at the same time or neither of them were gonna cum so they both just sucked it up and when she told them to kiss in order to let them cum they did that too 🤭🤭🤭🤭
anon, i've been thinking about this since you sent it and i'm very happy to answer it <3 i hope y'all like this one i feel insane
mdni
You'd probably offer it after both of them have had a hard day and you know Sej is too tired to just fuck his frustrations out. And since you have Coryo with you guys now, you figure, why can't I just pleasure you guys at the same time? No harm, no foul, right?
Honestly, Sej thinks it’s a great idea and Coryo is the one to protest even though deep down, his heart is jumping at the idea of it.
“Coryo, I’m not gonna let either of you cum if I can’t do this,” and you pout at him, but realize that maybe he's just too embarrassed to admit he wants it.
So you lean up on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “I know you want it. I’ll make it extra good, I promise,” and you kiss right below his ear, a weak spot for him and he folds immediately.
So now you got both of the boys slouching against the pillows on your bed. They're next to each other, shoulder brushing against shoulder as you lay between them.
You're swirling your tongue around Coryo first, given that you knew Sej could last longer since he's more used to your mouth.
Coryo's hand caresses the side of your head as he watches you and he dares to avert his gaze to Sej's cock which is being held by your hand, your thumb rubbing up and down against the vein that runs along the side of his length.
He lets out a moan at the sight and you smirk, letting some spit dribble onto him before your other hand wraps around him, jerking his cock slowly as your mouth finds Sej's tip.
While Coryo's moans sound light and airy, Sej's feel lower and you know he's holding them back.
Your eyes focus on Sej's lips, parted just a little as he sucks in a harsh breath. Then to Coryo's lips, his bottom one bitten underneath his teeth.
You take Sej out of your mouth, tapping his cock against your cheek as you say to them, "you guys should kiss."
Neither of them look at each other as they stare wide eyed at you and you rolls your eyes.
"Oh, c'mon, you've already tasted each other's cum one way or the other, what's the harm in kissing? Plus, I wanna see," you add in the last part in a quick whisper and Sej chuckles and turns his head to Coryo.
Your hands continue rubbing each of them and you watch them with curious eyes. Coryo's cheeks redden even more as he looks at Sej.
"Are you okay with this?" Sej leans closer first, his nose ever so slightly bumping against Coryo's.
He nods, speaking just above a whisper, "yes."
Sej presses forward to connect his lips to Coryo's and it's soft at first. Sej's hand remains on your head while Coryo's stay awkwardly at his sides, fiddling with the sheet below him.
You watch them pull apart, gazing into each other's eyes for a small second before they're kissing again, their lips slotting together almost perfectly in your eyes.
You see Sej press harder into it and you swirl your thumb in a circle on top head of Coryo's cock, causing the man to moan into Sej's mouth. It felt evil, but the sight that you get to see makes it worth it as Sej prods his tongue into Coryo's mouth.
You pick up the pace, stroking Coryo's cock with a tighter grip, leaning over to take Sej back in your mouth.
Your cheeks hollow as you suck on him, slowly taking each inch of his length into your mouth until you're hearing Sej moan back against Coryo's lips. You take him out of your mouth, smiling and kissing down your lover's length.
You feel Coryo shift as Sej's hand moves to cup the man's cheek.
Coryo has no thoughts in his head, just the feeling of Sej's mouth and tour hand consuming every fiber of his being. And with these blank, desire filled thoughts, he turns on his side to kiss Sej deeper, but the movement angles his cock just enough that his tip brushes up against Sej's.
That small amount of friction makes Coryo's abdomen tighten and he's spilling himself onto your lips and Sej's cock.
Sejanus breaks away from the kiss with Coryo and meets your eyes. When he sees the mess Coryo's made on you and on himself, it triggers his own release and you stuff the tip of his cock into your mouth so you can take every drop he has.
When he's done and you've rested your head on his thigh, replaying everything that happened, you notice Coryo's head pushed into one of your pillows and you sit up, cupping his cheeks and turning his head to look at you.
"don't be embarrassed, that was the hottest fucking thing i've ever seen, okay?" And Coryo can't even look you in the eye cause you've still got his cum on your lips and chin, but he nods in your hold.
Sej leans over you to wrap his arm around you and Coryo, finding Coryo's hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
let's chat about sejanus, coryo, or both, here :)
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gracieheartspedro · 7 months
Text
Somewhere With You
Part 4 of How Long
pairing: f!reader x brother-in-law!joel miller
Tumblr media
FIND Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 HERE!!
description: sleeping with your exes brother is one thing, but envisioning a whole life with him? that's a dangerous game. but you did it. now you're here, and tommy is fucking pissed.
word count: 5.3k
warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, pre!outbreak joel, there is smut in this part!! fear of being caught by sarah?, unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), joel is a CONSENT KING, dirty talk, overstimulation, titty fucking (yw caly), light violence, tommy is literally evil.
author's note: jesus christ i'm so glad I am finally here with this. I feel like finishing this is my greatest success in life lmao. I will probably continue this series but this is the last part for a while. I appreciate everyone's love on it and I can't wait to get more stuff out to y'all!
“Are we going to have a celebration when we get home?”
Joel laughs, “Yeah, we can. What did you wanna do?”
You just listen to Sarah list off all the possible ways to celebrate winning the tournament. The movies, going to the mall for new jeans, going to the local ice cream parlor every night of the week. Joel shakes his head at that one as he turns the truck onto the highway. You have your knees up to your chest, the zip up Joel let you borrow hanging off your shoulders. You had complained about how cold you were all weekend, so Joel shut you up by tossing you his zip up. You haven’t taken it off since. 
The sun was setting over the horizon, drawing the Sunday to a close. You had to work in the morning and you were dreading concluding the weekend you spent with Joel and Sarah. 
Everything with them seems natural. It felt like family. 
You did not want to face tomorrow, especially when there was no set plans as to when you would be hanging out with them again. 
Luckily, Sarah has not mentioned much of anything about what she saw early Saturday morning, so there was no awkward tension. The only time it came up was when you all were tired from Saturday’s events and you arrived back to the hotel room.
“You two sleeping together tonight, too?” She asked, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. She wasn’t even trying to be rude or demeaning, she just wanted to know if she could fall asleep in one of the beds without being stirred. 
“Yeah, you can have that bed hun.” Joel answered. 
Sitting on those horribly uncomfortable bleachers and cheering Sarah on had taken a lot out of you, so you were ready to throw yourself into the plush mattress, too. 
You watched Sarah throw herself onto of the comforter, sinking into the pillows face first. It makes you giggle while you grab your pajamas to change. 
Joel nudges you while you dig through your duffle, “No funny business tonight, ma’am.” 
You shake your head, his comment making your stomach turn upside down with nerves. You smack his chest with the back of your hand, “No duh, asshole.”
Sarah puts her headphones on, drowning out Joel’s humming to an old country song. You just stare ahead, watching him speed pass car after car. His truck revs every time he does it which makes you clench your knees a bit tighter. 
“In a rush, dear?”
The nickname makes his heart race.
He taps his fingers, trying to act like that nickname doesn’t drive him insane. “Want to make sure to get you home so you can be rested up for work in the morning.”
“That’s mighty sweet of you, but take your time. I’m in no rush.”
He eases off the gas a bit, taking your advice. 
“You talk to your Mama lately? She still likin’ Maine?” 
It wasn’t a question you were expecting coming from Joel. You had told him about your mom around the time that she moved away, however long ago that was. You truly didn’t expect him to even remember.
“We talk every week, she likes it there. Wants me to come experience a winter there, so I may go up for Christmas,” You explain, remembering back to conversation you two just had last week. She wanted you to feel what fluffy snow felt like and maybe go skiing with her. 
It makes Joel’s heart sink a bit. Not because you would be visiting your mother, but instead you would not be here to spend Christmas with him and Sarah. He had already planned on making a spot for you at the dining table. 
“That’d be nice,” He licks his lips, contemplating if he should say what he really wants to say, “‘M bettin’ she misses seein’ your beautiful face everyday.”
You smile, your cheeks burning hot at Joel calling you beautiful. You knew you had to throw him off and give him a sarcastic response to keep him on his toes.
“Gonna freeze my ass off there. May have to borrow some of your flannels.”
He chuckles, tilting his head towards you, “You already havta’ have about four of my t-shirts, now that hoodie. You wanna raid me some more?”
“If I’m remembering correctly, you said I just had to “get with you” to get clothes,” You’re whispering, leaning into him. You don’t want Sarah to hear the words you’re speaking to her father, “How many times do we need to go at it before I get one of those denim jackets you own?”
He peers over at you. You smirk, quirking one eyebrow up.
“You with me to get my clothes or somethin’?”
“That and other things,” You tease, pulling away, leaning your back against the seat again. 
Joel peers into the rear view mirror. Sarah is asleep, her headphones blasting her favorite pop album. He tilts his head towards you, his eyes not leaving the road, “You’ll havta remind me of those other things when we get home.”
He could get used to always having you in his passenger seat. 
-
Sarah was dead asleep in the backseat, so you both decided to get all the stuff from the back inside before nudging her awake. You quietly shut the door, grabbing Joel’s one bag from the driveway and slinging it over your shoulder. 
You follow close behind him as he unlocks the front door and places Sarah’s stuff on the staircase. 
The idea of having to leave made you want to scream. You didn’t feel like driving home and laying lonely in your own bed. You didn’t want to resume your boring life at work. You just wanted him. 
This weekend made you realize that you really couldn’t live without him. You’re not only comfortable around him, but he’s exciting. He cracks jokes and compliments you when you don’t expect it. Those couple of months without him were still months he was plaguing your mind, even though he wasn’t physically around you. 
You snap out of your thoughts quickly. You start watching Joel’s muscles restrict over his gray t-shirt and it’s enough to send you to your knees. You didn’t even realize how crazy he was driving you. His messy curls that were trapped under a hat most of the weekend are finally loose and curling up his neck. And the way his jeans hugged his ass while he walked away from you? You didn’t know how long to could refrain from telling him you needed him, right this second. 
“I may call out tomorrow. Too tired to sit on my computer all day and run reports,” You say while he wonders back to you from his bedroom down the hall. You’re hoping it leads to an offer.  
He nods, tossing his keys on the entry table next to you,“Yeah, I am off tomorrow. Have to get this house in order and make sure Sarah actually wakes up for school in the morning.”
No offer. Maybe you could propose it?
“Maybe I could just spend the night.”
The air is thick instantly with tension. You can hear the hitch in his throat. Once you say it, you realize how desperate you must sound. But you want to be able to lay next to him again. You want and need him. 
“If that’s what you wanna do, sweetheart. I don’t mind none. Love havin’ you here.”
He grabs your waist lazily, pulling you into his chest. The connection sends chills down your arms. 
“Are you sure? I don’t want to you to think I’m being needy.”
He doesn’t even hesitate, he just bows his head to capture your lips with his, giving you a slow sensual kiss. You move your hands up to his neck, pulling him down further into you, eager to be close to him. 
When he realizes that’s where it’s going, he pulls up for air. 
“Lemme go get the last couple bags and get Sarah inside.”
As he says that, the door flings open behind you. A sleepy Sarah blinks at both of you, shaking her head instantly when she sees her Dad’s arms wrapped around you. You push back, flinging yourself backwards and away from Joel. 
“Can you lovebirds do that somewhere else,” She groans, while rubbing her eyes, “Don’t need another sibling created right in front of m-”
“Sarah Jane!”
-
You smile when Joel drops onto his mattress with a huff. 
“So…” You drift off, crawling onto Joel’s lap, “You come here often?”
He chuckles, his hands beginning to trail your waist.
“Come here quite often, actually,” He jokes, his hands resting right under your shirt and on your hips. “How about you?”
You hum, “Not really. Maybe a couple times. Would love to come around, more though.”
“That so?”
You lean down, using your fingers to pull back his brown locks and pivot his head upward. You kiss him gingerly, smiling at his small groan.
You pull away, “I’d love to come to your bed every night, Joel Miller.”
The guttural moan he makes sends a rush to your core. He grabs the nape of your neck and brings you back down to his lips. He takes control of your movements, switching positions by gently laying you back. He leans over your body, his lips carrying the weight of his emotion. You’re scrambling though, tugging at his shirt, trying to rid it off his body. He pulls away to throw it off his body, motioning you to do the same. Soon, you two are completely naked.
“I never get sick of this view,” He rasps, his eyes raking your body. 
You smirk, “Back atcha, babe.”
He positions himself on top of you, his lips lingering on your neck and collarbones. 
Joel’s kisses are always intentional. It’s like he knows every pressure point on your body. His lips are always wet and supple, dragging across your soft skin. 
When his mouth reaches the skin around your breast, you start to arch up for more contact. He grabs your stomach, pushing it softly down onto the bed. 
“Patience, baby,” He mumbles, kissing the same area on the other breast. You jerk up again, absentmindedly.
“Can’t help it,” You whine, trying not to sound so desperate. 
He clicks his tongue, “You can and you will.”
His lips wrap around your nipple and you just watch with hooded lids. His eyes are closed, so focus on teasing every inch of your body. You can feel the slick pool between your legs at the sight. 
“Joel, please.”
He releases the pink nub, “What, baby? Use those words.”
“I want you all over, Joel.”
“Yeah? Where? Here?” 
He grabs your breast roughly, making you mewl. 
You finally gesture down. Your hand slides between your legs, dragging up and down your own slit. You gather as much slick as you can, bringing it up to Joel’s surprised expression. 
“I see…” He brings your fingers up to his lips. You gape at his next actions, amazed that he’s so filthy. He takes your two fingers and licks them like a popsicle. You audible sigh as he sucks on your fingers like a man starved. 
“You goin’ to be extra good for me?” He asks when your digits escape his mouth. 
“Always am.”
Your voice is shaky when you say it. It makes Joel smirk. He loves when you sound ruined.
“Love hearing those words come out of your pretty little mouth.”
He crawls down your body, peppering kisses from your stomach down to your thighs. You watch him closely as he props your thighs over his shoulders. He does not waste time, diving straight into your divine center. You try to refrain from screaming his name, knowing Sarah may not be asleep yet. You clap your hand over your mouth while he licks your sensitive clit. He lays his tongue flat, pressing into you as he shakes his head back and forth. When he does that, you yelp into your palm. 
“Mmm, baby girl wants to be loud so bad,” He chuckles darkly, using his fingers to spread your lips, “You wanna be loud for me huh?”
“Yes, please, God,” You pant, “Need you in me, Joel.”
“Yeah? Lets stretch you out a bit,” He doesn’t even give any warning when he sinks his fingers inside your pussy. “Gotta make sure you’re nice and ready, baby girl. Want you to cum before I stick this cock in ya.”
You swallow, letting him take the lead like usual. You liked it this way, when he ravishes you with his abilities and you get to cum several times. You never had sex like this in your life, especially consistently. 
His fingers curl inside you, pumping in and out. You can hear how wet you are, the wetness sequelching against Joel’s fingers. Your pussy is graced with his tongue again while he fucks you with his digits. It’s like it’s pulled out of you. The orgasm sends white hot flashes to your vision. You know you’re saying something, but it’s no word in the English language. 
When you come back down from euphoria, Joel’s ontop of you again. He’s kissing your cheeks, mumbling something about how beautiful you are when you cum. 
“Joel, please,” Your hands grab onto his biceps, “Want you inside me.”
His cock drags along your navel, as he situates himself between your legs. 
“Yeah? Always so eager,” He grabs his cock with his free hand, “Wanna try something a little different?”
Your stomach drops, “Like what?”
He toys with your nipple with his pointer and thumb, “Always wanted to fuck these.”
You smirk at the thought, your stomach finally at ease.
“You want to fuck my titties, Joel?”
“If you’ll let me,” He squeezes your boob gently, “Think these things are perfect. Want my cock right between them.”
You nod, “Fuck ‘em then, baby.”
He pulls you up, practically shoving you on the ground beside his bed. He wasn’t being aggressive, just guiding you to follow his lead. You sit on your knees, watching up at him as he pumps his cock over you. You use both hands to push your tits together. He grins as he touches the head of his cock to your hard nipples. 
“So good for me,” He groans, slipping his cock between your cleavage, “Obeyin’ me and doin’ everythin’ I want. My fuckin’ dream girl.”
He starts to fuck your squeezed together tits as you stare up at him with a completely spent expression. You dribble some spit down between the break in your breast to lube up the area. Your pupils are blown and you feel the wetness of you slit soaking the skin of your legs. You can tell by the look on Joel’s face that he could cum at the sight of you. 
But he stops and instead, grabs your bicep and tosses you back on the bed. You watch him crawl up between your legs, his face untamed and filled with anticipation. 
“Need to cum in that pussy,” He pumps it a couple times before slipping in between your pussy lips, “Do you need me to put on a condom or anything? I don’t have to fuck you raw every time.”
You bite your lip, “I like feeling every part of you, Joel. I promise.”
“Mmm,” He hums, sinking his cock head inside you, “Love to hear that, baby.”
You circle your hips, practically fiening for him to sink all the way into you. He takes the hint, plunging into you with one snap. Once he’s finally sheathed in you, you groan out which only instigates him. He draws out and back in, his pace painstakingly slow. You grip onto his forearms, digging your nails into them. Maybe he will take the hint that you need it faster. 
But, no.
“Words, darlin’. Tell me what you need.”
You choke out the words, “Faster. Harder.”
He kisses your lips, shushing you as his tempo picks up. He wants to feel the vibrations of your moans. He knows if you’re too loud there may be listening ears, so kissing you will hush the sounds of pleasure. He sits up and repositions, grabbing the back of both of your legs, practically folding you in half. You smirk in delight, watching his furrowed expression focus on your body’s reactions. 
“This pussy is mine,” He huffs, watching himself plow into you, “All fuckin’ mine. Ya know that?”
“Yes,” You manage to peep out, “It’s yours, Joel.”
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” He spreads your legs, opening you up nice and wide. His thumb finds your responsive clit, circling it with the momentum of his hips, “Cum for me, baby. Soak this fuckin’ cock.”
Your body reacts in the way he finds so satisfying. Your hips lift up as the climax takes over, your whole body shaking at the ecstasy he brings you. He doesn’t let up, chasing his own bliss. You are so overstimulated, you are just gasping for air. He starts to falter, his pace slowing as he coats your insides with his cum. 
You start to chuckle when his body practically collapses onto you. His sweaty curls stick to your perspiring cheek. You find yourself kissing his temple, practically thanking him for fucking you so good every time.
He stands up, his half-hard dick slipping out of you pain-stakingly slow. You whimper at the feeling, still a mess from your orgasm. 
“God, you are perfect,” He mumbles, his hand slipping down your bare thigh, “Could fuck you every day for the rest of my life.”
You are still awestruck by the interaction, you don’t even know you’re saying it, “Why don’t you?”
He smiles while he helps you sit up, “I will. Now let’s get you all showered and ready for bed, huh?”
“Yes, please.”
-
Luckily for you, your body naturally wakes up at 5:30AM. You creep out of the bedroom, making sure not to stir Joel awake. You find the house phone and call your boss, letting her know you were “sick” and needed to use a sick day. She just mumbled a “whatever” and you hung up, heading back to the warmth of Joel’s bed. 
Joel wakes up as soon as you crawl back into bed, but he knew he had to get up and make sure Sarah got ready and off to school, anway. He cuddles you for a bit, watching you nod back off to sleep. He let you sleep in while he cleaned up the house a bit. He tries his best not to much too much noise, not wanting to rattle you awake. 
You did wake back up when you heard the vacuum. You pull yourself together, putting your hair up into a bun as you stumble out of the bedroom. Joel stands in the living room, not even aware you’re behind him. He jumps when he notices you in the threshold, turning off the vacuum. 
“Mornin’ sleepin’ beauty,” He laughs as he wraps up the vacuum cord. 
“Mornin’ handsome.”
You watch him roll the machine back into the hall closet before taking note to how nice and clean the house looked. 
“Looks good in here,” You mumble, noting how every surface looks dusted, “It’s missing one thing. You have a vase?”
He silently nods, looking at you confused.
“Go fill it with water, I’ll be back.”
You walk towards the front door, swinging it open as you begin tip toeing to Joel’s side garden. He had started it with Sarah years ago, and for the most part, it was completely overgrown. Some flowers still bloom in the Texas sun, so you pick the prettiest from the dirt. Once you have a bundle, you practically jog inside to show Joel your bouquet. 
“Hmm,” He smirks, “Didn’t think we needed flowers.”
“Well, you do.”
He shows you the vase on the coffee table, letting you take on the responsibility to make it pretty. He watches you carefully, your tired eyes trained on the task. 
You were his dream girl, truly.
Once you’re satisfied with your arrangement, you make a grand gesture. 
“Beautiful, baby,” He beams, wrapping his arms around your waist. He drops down onto the couch, pulling you into his lap. 
“Who me or the flowers?” You joke.
“Both.”
You give him a lazy kiss, smirking into it. 
This part of life with Joel is so domestic and perfect. You two could create this little world and live in it forever. He appreciated your silly antics, knowing how neglected this side of you must have been with Tommy. He didn’t care about the small gestures like Joel did. 
It was so reassuring being with Joel. He praised you like you had never been before. 
As you pull away from his lips, you hear a door slam outside. Before you could even react, the front door swings open into the house. You sit on Joel’s lap, turned away from the front door, completely dumbfounded.
“What is going on here?”
His voice scares you. You don’t even want to turn around in Joel’s lap to face him. Joel slowly helps you out of his lap, his eyes never leaving Tommy’s. 
When you finally turn to face Tommy, his eyes are wild and bright red. He looks like he hasn’t showered in days, his longer hair greasy and standing in all sorts of directions. It’s not his appearance that scares you, it’s the energy he’s brought into Joel’s living room. It’s the same scary tension you experienced when he lashed out on you before. 
Joel finally speaks up, clearing his throat. “What do you mean?”
But Tommy isn’t talking to Joel. He’s looking at you. 
“Are you fuckin’ my brother?”
He’s pointing at you, his finger waving at you like an adult who’s scolding a child. You open your mouth, but you can’t say anything. Your throat is dry, the shock and terror taking ahold of your vocal chords. 
“Tommy, we aren’t doing this.”
Joel puts himself in between Tommy and you, ensuring he doesn’t creep closer to you. You want to believe Tommy would never get physical with you, but the way he looks now, you’re not one hundred percent positive. 
“That’s not what I fuckin’ asking, Joel. Are you two sleepin’ together?” 
His voice is booming, bouncing off every corner of the room. It makes you shrink three sizes. 
Joel places his head up, warning him silently not to get any closer, “Tommy-”
“Answer the fuckin’ question!”
You want to curl into a ball. You knew this would fucking happen. You knew he’d go insane. 
You look at Joel finally. You realize your eyes were trained on Tommy in terror, unsure on how to console him. Joel licks his lips, rolling his eyes a bit. You just nod, trying to answer Tommy’s question without saying anything. You didn’t want him to realize how shaky your voice was. 
Once he gets confirmation, all hell breaks loose. He’s pushing on Joel with his chest, screaming expletives at him. You stand in the corner of the living room, your body practically wedged between a lamp and the couch. You want to become one of the dustbunnies on the floor boards, not wanting to be apart of this situation.
“You’re a fuckin’ asshole! You fucked my girl-“
Before he can even finish the statement, Joel becomes a brick wall. He’s staring down at Tommy now, all the while snot is running down at his little brother’s face. He looked pathetic. As he nudges Joel’s chest, he hardly moves a milimeter. Joel doesn’t even hesitate when he says the next words. 
“Not your girl.”
You truly cannot believe the words coming out of Joel’s mouth. You knew what he was insinuating and it brought chills up your back. Tommy’s movements completely halt and he stands there in a stunned silence. Joel’s jaw is slack, his eyes trained down at Tommy. It’s a stand-off. 
Tommy crooks his head to the side, like he’s stretching it. “You want to pull that shit now, Joel? I knew you wanted my sloppy seconds the moment you told me she was at your house that night.”
Being referred as “sloppy seconds” makes your blood boil. It’s so dehumanizing. 
“Stop talking about her like that,” Joel warns, his voice a whole octave lower. 
“No,” Tommy growls, his gaze finally falling on you again, “You’re a whore. Just like your stupid sister.”
You swallow hard. It’s finally your moment to shine. The burst of adrenaline chorusing through your veins finally propels you forward, pushing Joel out of your way. 
“You’re the town whore, Tommy Miller. You fucked your way around Austin and then came home to me every night,” You are shaking. Luckily, your voice isn’t wavering, “You lie. You cheat. You are a decietiful little shit. And I’m so glad you are because if you hadn’t slept with my sister and told me, I would have never realized how terrible you were to me all these years. I wasted so much time on babying you.”
The vein in his forehead is bulging and it makes you smile a bit. 
“If I could go back in time, I would’ve saved my fucking tears and ran the other direction.”
He has the audacity to giggle, “Instead you ran right into Joel’s arms.”
You don’t hesitate, “You never gave a damn about me, he actually did. I should’ve taken the hint the moment he brought me flowers for my graduation, and you showed up with a flask.”
“You graduated college! Big fuckin’ deal! Get over yourself!”
Now you’re laughing. 
“Bite me, Tommy,” You reach out and grab his t-shirt, pulling him into you. It makes Joel super nervous how close he is to you. He knows Tommy’s temper and how easily he will snap. He doesn’t know the next words about to come out of your mouth. 
“You cheated on me, you fucking loser. I told you then we were done that night, did I not? What I did after that point is not your business. I’m not yours anymore. And your brother, he treats me real good. Way better than you ever did. He can actually last, unlike you,” You smack your lips together, “He can fuck me better than you, that’s for sure.”
Joel’s eyes widen at the words. Tommy looks completely dazed, but as soon as the last line leaves your mouth, he pushes you backward, right into Joel. You squeak at the contact, your brain registering that he actually put his hands on you. Joel quickly grabs you from tripping over him, and places you behind him quickly. Tommy reaches out for you, but Joel stops him meer inches from your face. 
“Fuck you!”
Tommy tries to throw his hand at Joel’s head next but it’s quickly stopped by Joel’s forearm. Instead of Tommy continuing the fight with you two, he takes it out on the new flowers and vase you just put out on Joel’s coffee table. He uses all his force, grabbing the vase and launching it towards the wall. The glasses shatters, water splashes on the wall, and pieces of flowers litter the floor. 
The action sends Joel pushing Tommy backward and against the wall. You want to yell out for them to stop, but all that comes out his Joel’s name. 
When he pins Tommy to the wall, he finally turns to you. 
“Don’t.”
It’s the only word you can say. You’re shaking, your eyes welling with tears. Joel knows you don’t want to see him demolish Tommy with his fists, so he thinks quick. He grabs Tommy’s collar, dragging him out the front door. 
You follow far behind, not sure what Joel’s gameplan is. 
Tommy is yelling, telling Joel to unhand him. Joel just tightens his grip. 
“Coming into my house, talking to my girl like that. Fuckin’ disrespectful little shit.”
“Fuck you, Joel,” Tommy yells, his voice probably waking the neighbors. Joel launches Tommy’s body into the front yard, right near the flower bed. You watch from the doorway, wanting to keep your distance from the confrontation. 
“Remember when you had temper tantrums when Momma told you no as a boy? Nothings changed. You’re an immature little brat.”
Joel reaches down into the flower bed, grabbing the hose. Tommy is still on the ground, scrambling to get up. Joel does something so unexpected, it makes you yelp. He starts soaking Tommy with the hose. 
“Yeah, like the girl said before,” He aims towards Tommy’s face, “bite me.”
Tommy starts to spit up water, jumping up and away from the stream of water. Instead of tackling Joel like you anticipate, he just shakingly wipes his hair out of his eyes. 
“You two are sick. Fuckin’ sick. And everyone will know about this.”
It makes your heart sink to your stomach. You don’t really care if anyone knows anymore. You knew this was going to be the worst part, but its the way he makes it sound like a threat. 
“I bet they will, I just don’t give a damn.”
Joel sprays him while he stands up, making Tommy groan and yell out in annoyance. Joel just smiles, sickly. 
Tommy storms off to his truck, dripping wet from the shower Joel just gave him on his front lawn. Joel tosses the hose back into the garden, satisfied with his work. You two stand there, watching Tommy do a burn out and speed off down the road. You breathe out loud, your hands finding your face. Joel glances between his neighbour’s houses, ensuring there is no one outside watching the events unfold. He did not care if they did watch, but he knew you would probably care. 
He grabs ahold of your shoulders, guiding you back inside the house. Your eyes instantly fall on all the shattered glass and flowers as you walk inside. Joel ignores it and brings you into the kitchen. 
Your mind is racing. You knew every word you said to Tommy was right deep down. But the girl you were, she wouldn’t have instigated his rage. She would’ve sat there and took every word he said to heart and believed them. 
But the girl you are now, that girl is completely ruthless. You are petty. You are harsh. You are angry. 
You kind of scared yourself. 
“Joel-”
“No baby,” he mutters, “You better not say what I think you’re gonna say.”
“Joel, we can’t d-”
“We can. Because fuck Tommy. Fuck everyone,” He grabs your hips, letting his hands settle softly on your curves, “I want you. I want you so bad. I am not lettin’ you get away. Tommy can tell everyone in the fuckin’ world about us, and I won’t fuckin’ care. What he says doesn’t reflect you. You did nothin’ wrong. Okay?”
You swallow. You know he’s right, but you’re so scared of all this fallout. You don’t want it to scare you away from Joel, but it’s nervewracking to wait around and anticipate all of the chaos that will follow this incident. You did not want to tear apart a family. It’s the same feeling you had the morning after you first slept with Joel.
You’re scared to have him because of what it means for him. It means weird holidays and weird stares at grocery stores. It means you will be known as his brother’s ex girlfriend never just his girl. 
You don’t realize it, but you’re staring past Joel. He tilts your head towards him, making your eyes connect. 
“I love you, okay?”
His words make your heart flutter with relief. Maybe that’s what you needed. You needed him to finally say those words. Because those words were hanging in the back of your mind, simmering, waiting to be said.
“I love you, too, Joel.”
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restinslices · 4 months
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okay chat maybe him like getting jealous
Assuming you’re the anon who asked about Spooky
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Him this episode >>>>>>>>>>
I've seen posts before about Spooky and people say he'd pull out a gun and start swearing when he's jealous and really show his ass but honestly? I don't think that's accurate 
I haven't watched OMB in a hot minute and Netflix is being some hoes rn so forgive me if I'm wrong but wasn't he incredibly patient?
He was patient with Cesar and with Cesar’s friends. I don't recall him ever losing his temper and going insane besides season 4 when he heard people fucking shit up outside 
Spooky gives me the silent jealous type. Silent but also petty 
Like if you came back to him after talking to a guy he'd say some petty shit like “thought you'd be around him all day”
“That's your man now, right?” “Stop being childish”
You could tell when he's jealous though cause you'd feel him staring at you the whole time 
I could also see him clearing his throat loud as hell if you're nearby to both get your attention and introduce him to whoever it is you're talking to 
It's gotta be a guy he doesn't know cause realistically what Santo is dumb enough to flirt with you?
I feel like I'm expected to say he'd have this huge outburst but Oscar doesn't give me that vibe. He's pretty patient and I think especially if y'all have been together for an extended amount of time, he'd feel secure enough to know you won't do some foul shit 
I feel like someone touching you would cause him to immediately get involved. He'd walk over and physically take their hand off of you while pulling you closer to him or behind him 
And let's be real, no one is dumb enough to try shit with him. He's 6’1 and known as the leader of the Santos 
But if someone did try him because they're drunk or whatever, I feel that even though he's jealous he'd still put your safety first. His jealousy would go to the back of his mind and he'd try to get you out in case shit gets intense 
Another situation he'd step in is if you're visibly uncomfortable. Typically if someone's flirting with you, he knows you can handle it but if you're so obviously uncomfortable then he'd step in and get you away 
I feel like if you're dating Oscar your safety would go over everything so while he's still a man and wants to play all big and bad in whoever's face, getting you away is his biggest priority 
“Are you jealous?” “Should I be?” “No” then he'd nod or smth 
Now let's say you're hanging around a new guy a lot. Would he get jealous? Probably. He's a guy. 
This is a different situation ‘cause he's not seeing anything. He can't pull you away. What does he do?
Short answer; nothing. Long answer; he doesn't seem like the type to be so jealous he'd snoop on your phone or follow you because relationships require trust and if you caught him, you'd be upset. I could see him asking questions about the guy and then denying he's jealous ‘cause “I have nothing to be jealous about”
And it's like??? Are you telling me  that or telling yourself that? 
Over time it'd become obvious he's feeling a certain way. You'd say you're gonna hang out with whoever the guy is and he'd just make a “mmm” sound instead of actually responding 
“Something wrong?” “I didn't say anything” “Exactly”. Eventually it'd come out though 
And the idea of him flirting with someone else to make you jealous comes up but I don't think that'd happen. He hardly has any relationships besides his gang which means he hardly has any close relationships. He has the kids, who he's like an older brother too (or literally an older brother to) and Mario (and we don't know how much they interact) so I don't see him risking a relationship just to be on petty shit 
He'd say smth petty but flirting with someone else just as payback for some shit you can't control? Nah
You could probably calm him down easily just by being near him. Making jokes about him being jealous would help also because it's you acknowledging that you see how he feels without having a sappy ass conversation 
I feel like this is so anticlimactic and disappointing but realistically I don't see him flipping his shit. He's 19-25, which could make him a bit immature but 1) he's grown up quickly so I think he can handle his emotions. 2) He has two strikes already. He's not popping his shit and risking life in prison because he was jealous. And 3) he knows you know where home is. 
He gets jealous, sure, but all those reasons stacked together makes him act calm, only getting somewhat aggressive if someone is touching you or making you uncomfortable. He’s more petty than anything
Quick story time. So I got away from my abusive dad when I was 13-14, right. I was also obsessed with Spooky. Tell me why my therapist said “I think you love him so much because he’s a strong and scary guy and in your head he’d protect you if your dad came back for you”. The way I almost blocked her-
I’m still seeing her years later😃
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little-diable · 16 days
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"Angel" He calls me – Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)
Listen, this is fucked up – even I was unsure where this came from. But I ain't sorry for it, I know y'all will love this, you filthy heathen (i love you). Shamelessly inspired by the song "The Fruits" by Paris Paloma. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Her mother accuses the reader of preparing a satanic ritual, so she hopes that Priest Riddle can free the young girl from the devil's grasp. What a shame that the young priest is even more cunning than the Devil himself.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, smut in a church, heavy dub!con, choking, wax play, blood play, Tom being Tom, religious connotations
Pairing: Priest!Tom Riddle x fem!reader (about 2k words)
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My love, are you the devil? I would worship you instead of him, I have no time for confession, for I'm too busy committing sins
“Priest Riddle!” Her mother’s shrill voice echoed through the empty church, repeated with every further step she took. (Y/n) struggled against her mother’s grasp, feet dragged along the cold ground as if she prayed that the floor would open up, that something or someone would crawl from the eternal darkness to hold onto her, rescue her from the hell she would experience any moment now. “Priest Riddle!”
The tall man appeared after another loud call of his name, concern tugged on his features, a facade her mother instantly seemed to buy into; a facade (y/n) instantly saw through. Priest Riddle was a devilish handsome man, a man so handsome he easily fooled those who clung to him, distracting them from his sinful character. 
“Mathilda, (y/n), what is going on?” His bright eyes carried concern as he looked at (y/n)’s mother, concern that changed into something dark the second his gaze found (y/n)’s. Her mother’s torture was nothing against what he’d do to her, that much she was certain of after all those confessions she had been forced through – confessions that had ended with her knees having a carpet burn, with her ass bruised, and her jaw pulsing in pain from being stretched open. 
“She’s gone insane, I’ve found her worshipping the devil! He has his dark grasp on her, oh you have to free my girl, you’re my only chance of finding help for her sinning soul, Father!” Tears dripped from her mother’s eyes, tears (y/n) silently cursed. She had done no such thing, all she had done was read a book Priest Riddle had borrowed her, one of the few interests both shared – Latin prayers her mother had mistaken for satanic rituals as (y/n) had tried to pronounce the words. 
For a second, he studied (y/n), the annoyance she couldn’t shake, the wide pupils he had grown all too used to, feeling his cock twitch in his trousers at the excitement now thumping through his veins. “Leave her with me, Mathilda. She’s in good hands. I’ll take care of our girl.”
"Angel“ he calls me, does he know that I'm falling from a precipice that I tripped off long ago?
“Rituals, huh?” Her mother had left the church seconds ago, leaving the two of them behind. (Y/n)’s skin prickled, she was fighting against the need to scream, to throw a tantrum against her mother’s foolish behaviour. All because of him. 
“This is your fault! She heard me read that prayer book of yours.” Within seconds he stood in front of her, ringed hand wrapped around her throat. Her heart was pounding, blood rushing through her veins, he could feel (y/n)’s fast pulse against his fingertips, a sensation that left the man smirking. 
“My fault?” The way he spoke the words, with a voice so raspy and deep, (y/n) didn’t manage to stop her body from reacting, her thighs from trembling and her walls from clenching around nothing. For a few moments, neither of them spoke, all they did was stare at one another. “My fault, really, (y/n)?”
“I,” her words got stuck in her throat as he squeezed, cutting off her strength to pronounce any words. Priest Riddle always enjoyed silencing her, showing her how much power he held over her. (Y/n) was shoved backwards as he let go of her, watching her fall onto the stone stairs leading up to the altar. 
“You see, (y/n), your mother may think I’m the saving grace, the voice of reason, but I think you know better, don’t you? There is no saving left for you, no grace I can give you. The Devil would have tried to save you, what a shame that I’m not him.” Angry tears welled up in her eyes, tears that began to drip as a laugh clawed through him. There was no escaping him, no matter how much her mind begged her to run, to never return to these unholy walls, her body craved his touch, desperate for everything he could offer. 
“Undress, lay down on the altar, for me.” It took (y/n) a second to snap into motion, to undo the buttons of her dress with shaky fingers. Not once did her glassy eyes leave his frame, not as she stood naked, not as she slowly heaved herself onto the altar, not as she watched him alight the red candle placed next to the Holy Bible.
“Do you remember what John teaches us, (y/n)? He tells us: Whoever makes a practice of sinning is of the devil, for the devil has been sinning from the beginning. But tonight you will sin, tonight you will offer yourself to the devil, even though he will never have you. He fears me, and he will fear my precious toy once I’m done with you.”
“In nomine Patris et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.” He was standing behind the altar, with his ringed fingers holding onto the burned candle. (Y/n) was forced to watch him tilt the candle, letting the wax drip down onto the valley between her naked breasts. She hissed at the sensation, torn between excitement and fear, and yet she craved more. 
“Princeps gloriosissime caelestis militiae, sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio adversus principes et potestates, adversus mundi rectores tenebrarum harum, contra spiritalia nequitiae, in caelestibus.” Priest Riddle’s voice didn’t carry any emotion as he spoke the lines of the prayer to Saint Michael, a prayer used in exorcisms, a prayer he used to mock her now. The candle kept dripping, one by one the drops of wax marked her body, leaving (y/n) moaning as his cold hand joined the wax, touching her hardening nipples with a smirk growing on his lips. 
“Veni in auxilium hominum, quos Deus ad imaginem similitudinis suae fecit, et a tyrannide diaboli emit pretio magno. Te custodem et patronum sancta veneratur Ecclesia; tibi tradidit Dominus animas redemptorum in superna felicitate locandas.” No longer did (y/n) try to keep her moans bottled in, she arched her back off the altar as he added more strength to his touch, tweaking her nipples as the wax dripped onto her stomach. It felt as if he was making an offering, sacrificing (y/n) for the sins they had committed together, giving her up for his eternal salvation. 
“Deprecare Deum pacis, ut conterat Satanam sub pedibus nostris, ne ultra valeat captivos tenere homines, et Ecclesiae nocere. Offer nostras preces in conspectu Altissimi, ut cito anticipent nos misericordiae Domini, et apprehendas draconem, serpentem antiquum, qui est diabolus et Satanas, et ligatum mittas in abyssum, ut non seducat amplius gentes. Amen.” The last drop of wax fell as Priest Riddle ended the prayer, tossing the blown-out candle aside to press his lips against (y/n)’s. Both moaned in unison as her fingers began to work on his belt, needing to free his cock with the silent hope that he’d fuck her on the altar spurring her on. 
He twitched in her grasp, a sensation so familiar, she found herself relaxing, giving her mind a few seconds to relax. Seconds he used to study her with danger laced in his gaze, danger that deepened as her eyes were drawn to his throat, watching him rip his silvery necklace from his neck. The necklace twinkled in the dim light, momentarily entrancing (y/n) as if she was studying a rare gem, an offering only God would make. 
“We have been bound together for months, you are my possession, and you will do as I say, you will let me lead you till I no longer think you’re worthy of my time.” He tightened his grasp on his necklace, and without another warning, he ran the sharp edge of the cross along his skin, instantly drawing blood. Blood so red, it looked like sacred wine, richer than Jesus’ blood, more powerful than any other offering.
He wiped his bleeding thumb along her lips, letting her taste the copper staining her skin like a tattoo made for eternity. They held eye contact as she parted her lips, letting her tongue lick his skin clean, unable to stop her moan from clawing out of her. She was nothing but a toy, someone he used to pass time with, someone to fuck whenever his body called for excitement – and she loved it, every fucked up second of their time together. 
Priest Riddle let go of her to position himself between her thighs, his fingertips dug into her skin as he wrapped her legs around his waist. Soon he’d fuck her, soon he’d remind her that she was his – his only. 
You're faithless, for you pitched me, against your holy father and it seems that I am winning
Without giving (y/n) any chance to prepare herself, he pushed into her, forcing his cock into her tightness. Her arousal allowed him to move without any struggles, moving as if their bodies had been made for one another. In some fucked up way she could have found something romantic in this, claimed in a church for all holy and unholy eyes to see, but the darkness he emanated was enough to keep her from thinking these thoughts. 
Months ago when this had happened for the first time, (y/n) had been frightened, not knowing what the man would do to her. But after the first of many orgasms had wrecked through her, she had felt like Judas, the backstabber, the liar she had been turned into. No longer held back by the fear of sinning, rather giving in – all for the promise of being punished by Priest Riddle. 
“Even the devil wouldn’t take you in, a soul filled with sins that even He would turn his back on. I’m your only rescue.” He panted his words as he buried himself deep inside of her, eyes staring down at her. Without stopping his movements, his hips from snapping against hers, he pushed the cross past her lips, forcing her to hold it between her teeth. (Y/n) could still taste his blood – heightening her senses as her walls fluttered around him. 
She hated herself for enjoying this, for being at his mercy with her legs spread and her back arched. He only spoke the truth, he was her only chance of guidance, the only one to cling to as the others had left her behind, engulfed in darkness. Her saving grace, the poison she was addicted to, the bruising grasp she couldn’t shake. 
“Cum for me, show them that there is no chance of rescuing you from me.” With the cross held between her teeth, she moaned for him. (Y/n)’s orgasm wrecked through her, leaving her shaking and panting beneath him. But the priest kept moving, searching his own high with his fingertips digging into her skin. 
A heavy moan rumbled through Priest Riddle as he came, imprinting himself on her walls without giving her a warning. Once again marked by the man who called her his own property, once again marked by the devil’s most brutal brother. 
“I need you on your knees, it’s time to beg for His forgiveness, (y/n).” 
……
Translation of the Latin prayer: 
St. Michael the Archangel, illustrious leader of the heavenly army, defend us in the battle against principalities and powers, against the rulers of the world of darkness and the spirit of wickedness in high places.
Come to the rescue of mankind, whom God has made in His own image and likeness, and purchased from Satan's tyranny at so great a price.
Holy Church venerates you as her patron and guardian. The Lord has entrusted to you the task of leading the souls of the redeemed to heavenly blessedness.
Entreat the Lord of peace to cast Satan down under our feet, so as to keep him from further holding man captive and doing harm to the Church.
Carry our prayers up to God's throne, that the mercy of the Lord may quickly come and lay hold of the beast, the serpent of old, Satan and his demons, casting him in chains into the abyss, so that he can no longer seduce the nations. Amen.
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tipsyleaf · 12 days
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Young parents but it's re2 leon or re4 leon... he has a cute and sweet girlfriend but he ended up getting her pregnant by accident (ahem) and now he needs to learn how to take care of his pregnant girlfriend.... (He watched Twilight and was worried about the possibility of she breaking like a stick like Bella.) 👛anon.
(RE4 Leon is 27, you think 27 is young?? I'm 27 bless you 👛anon 🥺)
This would probably fit better with RE2 Leon. A rookie cop who accidentally knocked his girlfriend up. Obviously he's happy regardless, you two love each other and he knows he'd want a family someday. It just so happens to be sooner than he thought.
I'd picture him going bat shit insane. Talking about how you'll snap like a twig and you're just staring at him like 🤨 babe... We're not have a vampire baby.
Yeah, but like WHAT IF SOMETHING HAPPENS!?
Would definitely buy every parenting book he sees. He wants to be prepared. Extra precautions after you move into his shoe box of an apartment cause he wants you close by. Definitely walking around putting up those corner covers they have for counters and tables so kids don't cut their heads. Even though you're a grown ass woman... He's just scared you'll bump your belly and hurt you or the baby.
The moment you start getting cravings he's on it any time of day.
You want cookies at 3am? Insomnia cookies here he comes.
You text him that you want noodles while he's sitting at his desk at work. He's an hour late coming home from work because he stopped at two different markets to get any flavor of instant noodles he could find so you'll be able to enjoy your meal.
You want grilled steak in the middle of fucking winter?! BABE GET YOUR COAT, WE'RE GOING TO OUTBACK!
Definitely overwhelmed with all the responsibilities he puts on himself because he refuses to let you do cleaning or anything to requires lifting. And yes, even if it is light!
Leon put most of the nursery together (cute little alcove in the living room until y'all can find a bigger apartment or rent a house). Quite literally only let you supervise, which irritated the hell out of you but he loves you and you know he's just paranoid.
Once the baby comes though, he's awake for days... You're recovering and he's taken on the role of father very seriously. So sleep deprived he's probably stared at the baby thinking he can't see their chest move. But they wiggle their little arm and his stomach nearly falls out of his ass he was clenching so hard.
At one point he'd be rocking the baby to sleep during your recovery and close his eyes for 2 seconds and suddenly it's morning. The babies not in his arms and he starts freaking out. So freaked out he looks under the damn couch for his kid. But you come out of the kitchen carrying a bottle and the baby in one of the swaddling scarves and he can breathe again.
But all in all Leon would be a fantastic father!
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girlbossblackbeard · 7 months
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I think I'm actually going clinically insane over the reverse "you wear fine things well" scene because 1) if Ed looked at me Like That it would be game over I would literally do anything he asked me up to and including throwing myself overboard I literally do not know how Stede didn't legitimately spontaneously combust the second Ed turned those eyes on him 2) GNOSSIENNE NO.5 FINALLY BEING USED THIS SEASON AS A JOYOUS MARKER OF ED AND STEDE'S LOVE FOR EACH OTHER AS GOD INTENDED THIS IS NOT A DRILL HOLY SHIT 3) THEIR FUCKIN!!!!!!!! COY TEENAGER SHY LITTLE SHUFFLE TOWARDS EACH OTHER RIGHT BEFORE THEY KISS!!!!!! THE WAY STEDE EVEN LOOKS AWAY FOR A SECOND BEFORE LOOKING BACK AT ED AND ED'S TINIEST LITTLE SMIRK BEFORE THEY BOTH LEAN IN WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 4) the way they grab each other's arm during the initial kiss I'm so sick to my stomach 5) THE MOON Y'ALL!!!!!!!!!!!! IT'S NORMAL!!!!!!!!!!! BECAUSE THIS ISN'T A MOONLIGHT FANTASY OR AN INFATUATION THAT FEELS LARGER THAN LIFE BUT BURNS OUT QUICKLY!!!!!!!!!!! THIS IS REAL AND IT'S RAW AND IT'S VULNERABLE AND IT'S GONNA LAST BECAUSE THIS NEW CHAPTER OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS BEING FOUNDED ON DOING EVERYTHING THEY CAN TO NOT LET THIS PRECIOUS THING THEY'VE FOUND WITH EACH OTHER TURN INTO ANOTHER WHIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM LITERALLY GOING TO START FEROCIOUSLY CLIMBING THE WALLS 6) hoooooooly fuck the way stede inhales and grasps Ed's neck like he's a man lost at sea dying of dehydration and Ed is the first sip of cool clean water he's had in months im ill im so so so so ill 7) ED'S LITTLE SHUFFLE AFTER ASKING STEDE TO TAKE IT SLOW SIR IM BEGGING YOU TO STOP BEING SO ADORABLE it's causing me to develop a heart condition 8) stede's quiet "huh, okay 😌" after Ed busts out his fish wanting to get caught metaphor he's literally so charmed by Ed it seeps into everything he does 9) WEHN THYE!!!!!!!! HOODL AHNDS!!!!!!!!!!! HAND TOCUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 10) the way Ed is staring stede DIRECTLY in the eyes as he says "this? perfect" my vision is going black 11) SHUT IP SHUT UP SHUT UPPPPPPP THEIR SILLY LITTLE HAND HOLDING GAME AND STEDE WHUSPERING "you won 🥰" AND ED'S BLUSHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SMILE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AS HE LOOKS AWAY AND PATS STEDE'S HANDS BEFORE TELLING HIM A COOL FACT HE LEARNED TODAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEY! ARE! LITERALLY! TEENAGERS! FALLING! IN! LOVE! FOR! THE! FIRST! TIME! EVER! oh I am in desperate need of medical attention after this one fellas I can tell this is going to have extremely long lasting and far reaching effects on my already severely compromised psyche
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chrollosbm · 4 months
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Jujutsu Kaisen Men + Period Sex
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basically my take on if i think they would be down for period sex, and how far they would go
characters mentioned: gojo, geto, nanami, choso
female reader, no mention of her features but i'm black so, established relationship, slight aftercare with geto and nanami
cw: blood (duh,) cramps, unprotected sex, piv sex, begging, rough sex, overstimulation, cum eating, blood drinking, it's pretty nasty but i'm a kinky fuck, lowercase, barely proofread
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Satoru Gojo:
y'all he is so down
what isn't this man down for?
he would definitely fuck you on your period, and he wouldn't be grossed out or anything by your blood
he would in fact enjoy it because he loves how much more lubrication there is
he loves how much your tits swell and how they're so sensitive to the touch and how your nipples are erect without him having to do anything
he does anyways, using his talented, thick tongue, but makes sure to be gentle after a scolding from you about how much it hurts when he uses too much pressure
he gives you that toothy grin with an apology even though he's not really sorry, your tits seems to grow almost a full cup size according to Satoru, so he's going to relish in it
he is such a boobs guy to me so he's super excited to stuff his face in your cleavage randomly throughout the day
you act like it annoys you but you find it funny how obsessed your boyfriend is with them
it freaks you out how he just knows you're on your period just by taking a look at them though
"hm...looks like someone's about to start bleeding from their vagina" he'd throw out casually out of nowhere, electric blue eyes fixated on your covered bosom, causing you to give him a creeped out stare, partially from the way he'd phrased that sentence, the other part from his odd hypothesis
that night in the bathroom you would wipe and see he was in fact very spot on
anyway, when he's super horny and you're not in the mood due to excruciating cramps, he convinces to get nasty with him by reminding you that orgasms help with the pain
which proceeds him to start eating you out as you're basically on your death bed, heavy flow and all
you try to tell him how much you're bleeding, but he really does not give a fuck at all
so he goes to work on your clit, not caring about the extra metallic taste of your pussy, just flicking and sucking and making out with your sensitive clit, driving you over the edge embarrassingly quickly.
like you don't know if it's from the sensitivity from your time of the month, or if Satoru is purposely trying to drive you to your orgasm quicker than usual, but he has you grinding on his face, forgetting that it's a blood bath down there.
he was right, after he has you seeing stars the pain from the assault on your uterus ceases to exist
when he comes up with that red sheen on the pale skin of his nose, and bottom of his face, your cheeks get so hot from embarrassment that they start to hurt, but he reassures you that he loves the taste of you, even your blood
like he's grinning like you just took him to get his favorite treat from his most frequented bakery
obviously fucks you afterwards
tries to be gentle but ultimately loses himself in the process because of how wet you are, the squelches from both your arousal and blood are driving him insane
your warm walls are suffocating his large cock with the way it's squeezing around him each time he presses that gummy spot inside you
his pretty eyes are rolling to the back of his head as he holds your legs towards the ceiling, releasing his hot, potent cum inside of you shortly after and just creating a mess of fluids onto the towel below the two of you
he's smiling again, the bottom of his face a dark red color now and you can't help but laugh
"oh you didn't cum? let me help you with that" and he's going to down below again, not caring about the mixture leaking out of you
your man is such a nasty fucking freak and you're so lucky
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Suguru Geto
not super into period sex, but would try it once with you just to see what it's like
wouldn't suggest it, you would have to ask for it
he would say yes of course, out of curiosity and because he'd read somewhere that orgasms can ease your pain
and he adores you and doesn't like seeing you in agony, so he'll do anything to help
loves the feeling of your tight cunt as he's thrusting into you gently with his breath heavy, strands of his hair sticking to his skin, his lip caught in his teeth as he's smirking down at your pretty, fucked out face, glad this seems to be helping
he's sure to be gentle with you, as he knows you're in pain, which you appreciate
he enjoys how much wetter it is, and how you seem to be enjoying it as well with how much you're vocalizing your pleasure, rather than the whines of pain you were letting out beforehand
would still last pretty long, trying to drive that orgasm out of you before he releases his load into you
he's not a selfish lover by any means, so even if he does cum quickly, he would go another round for you, regardless of how oversensitive his girthy cock would be
would not eat you out
he's open to a lot but not that open
probably wouldn't want to look at the scene below the two of you after you've finished, knowing your blood was probably stained on his pelvis and your thighs
not grossed out or anything from it, he just doesn't want to know what your body is doing to you, it would make him feel your pain with you
would still carry you to the shower to wash the both of you up though, he wants to make sure you're comfortable and clean before putting you back to bed
he's whispering sweet nothings into your ears and kissing your cheeks as he washes in between your legs, the red hue running down the shower drain
would probably do it again, just wouldn't make it a regular thing
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Kento Nanami
it's a regular thing between you two
like he's a simple man, a period doesn't stop anything but a sentence to him
the two of you have a routine with sex, you have an understanding of when you can and can't, it's usually a couple times a week when he isn't too tired after work
like i said he's pretty normal about it
you'll just be like, "oh, Kento i started my period," and he's like "i know, the app on my phone told me"
then when you're about to get nasty he'll grab the towel and proceed as usual
he wouldn't eat you out, though
sorry i have the mindset of Kento being slightly vanilla besides the whole rough sex and hair pulling thing, so although giving you head while you're bleeding doesn't gross him out or anything, he just doesn't prefer to do it
he would if you asked though, you would just have to put a tampon in and he would focus on your clit, knowing exactly how to drive you wild that way
would probably take you two minutes tops to cum, he pays attention to your reactions and knows what you like so he can get you there pretty fast
when he's inside of you he's very gentle, almost too gentle really
like you'll roll your eyes and get irritated with the way he's treating you like you're fragile
"baby, but you are fragile right now" he'd say sincerely and you would whine with your bottom lip quivering, so frustrated and emotional and fucking horny
how could he resist giving you what you wanted?
so now he has you bent like a pretzel, plowing into you roughly just like you asked and you feel fucking fantastic, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as you're sputtering your words of gratitude throughout the room
neither of you last long of course, with the way he's thrusting into you and the way your warm, gooey pussy is sucking him in has the both of you seeing stars only minutes later
the aftercare is immaculate of course
he runs the two of you a bath with muscle relaxing bath salts
his large body is behind you, kissing your sticky, moist forehead and giving you praise of how well you did for him
you cling to your thoughtful, lovely boyfriend and fall asleep in the bathtub with the warmth of the water and the complete erasure of your cramps, feeling safe and protected in his arms
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Choso
another freak i'm telling you
doesn't give a fuckkkkkkk
he's going to town on your pussy, he can never get enough of it, so why would a little or a lot of blood stop him?
he's the one who's in fact begging you to let him fuck you
like this man prefers period sex over normal sex
"Choso it's gross down there, i don't want you to see me like that" you'd said the first time he'd asked to try it out pretty early on in your relationship
that pitiful pout on his face would make you reconsider what you said almost too quickly
"baby, please, 'wanna fuck you so bad, 'wanna make you feel better" his voice came out so pathetic, so unrecognizable, with his pupils shaking as the grip on your hips tightened from his large hands
so now he's going down on you, slurping up your blood and juices so loudly, moaning and talking into it of how good you taste, how wet you are, how sexy you look with your swollen tits
another boobs guy
he's using his fingers too, thick digits sliding in and out your hole easily from the extra lubrication, not ignoring your g-spot and pressing into it over and over again, and you're delirious from his ministrations
he doesn't neglect your boobs, with them looking extra large and perky, being sure to bring his blood-stained hands up to your upper half, gently fondling with your nipples, creating a a sticky mess on your chest
you cum hard, tears coming out your eyes and legs trembling and he uses his arms to lock you in as he opens his mouth wider to clean you up, not stopping until you're the one begging
he loves when you ride him, so you're sitting on his abnormally large cock, bouncing up and down roughly, creating splashes and large squelch sounds, blood running down his thigh and onto the towel he'd laid down
Choso looks like he's in fucking heaven, wetness coming out the side of his dark red-stained mouth and you continue to rock your hips on him, driving yourself closer
it's fucking messy
so messy you'd wished you'd laid out multiple towels, because now you're going to have to change your sheets at two in the morning
he loves looking down at the crime scene below you, witnessing how dirty the two of you have gotten makes his dick twitch inside you and he's letting out fucking whimpers
he's never been one to last super long while inside of you, so when he brings his wonderous fingers down to your clit and starts rubbing vigorously on the wet bundle of nerves, you know he's close
he's on a mission so as soon as you're feeling that sweet sense of relief, with your eyes fluttering shut and your pretty moans filling the room loudly, he shoots hot ropes of his cum into your throbbing cunt
he's just a pussy whipped freak, so he'll do anything as long as it means his head, hands, or cock are in between your legs
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my masterlist
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reveluving · 20 days
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But just, imagine Graves is suuuuuch a hard ass to you in front of his men and a total ass (almost more than he is to his other men) so it doesn’t seem like he’s giving you favoritism and doesn’t make it obvious that you two are doin’ the dirty dooooo. But behind closed doors Graves gives you whatever you want. Want to go on a specific mission? Sure. What a shiny new gun? Absolutely. Want him to bed you over in his office and just devour you(I imagine this mans is such a giver)? Fuck yes. Wanna blow him under his desk while he’s on the phone with Shepherd? He’s already rock hard and ready. AHHHHG It’s just Warren’s Graves’ damn smile. 🫠
WARREN'S GRAVES’ SMILE MAKES ME INSANE TOO, BABY! I FEEL YOU 🤲🏼😭
Includes: mentions of s~mut; oral s~ex, both m & f receiving (minors DNI!), sugar daddy-ish Graves (but he loves tf outta you), this man is a GONER. 
COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌
Come & check out my COD m.list!
Pray for this man because Phil knew he was done for as soon as he first saw you ✋🏼😔
Him being extra hard on you (in more ways than one) isn’t necessarily in terms of raising his voice more than the authoritative tone he already uses, but more so with an intense stare, or a deeper tone, you know? A stare which I feel like it takes everything in you not to do anything embarrassing as you stand with your team, be it a moan or a slight indication of you rubbing your thighs together. 
And it takes everything in him not to express his satisfaction the way he would behind closed doors. 
No doubt you can take whatever he gives as a commander, just like how he treats the rest of his team—you were a soldier before you were his, after all. But as soon as you and him get together, he has some sense of not letting his ego take charge in a disrespectful sense just to prove a point in front of his company. 
Listen, he’s not a relationship guy. He’s had his fair share long ago, only to opt for one-nighters with his line of work.
But now? He wouldn’t even dream of being in anyone’s presence (and bed) other than yours. 
You may as well mistake a Cupid’s bow accidentally shooting him each time the two of you are in private; raising your hands to his lips with a warmer look in his eyes, tugging you by the hand to sit on his lap as soon as you lock his office door, personally tending to your injuries. Or if the wound needs further medical attention, he'll come to check up on you once the professionals have settled their part.
Picture this: on your day off, you and him in bed after ‘sexc time’, cuddling in bed while looking out of the gigantic hotel windows, though really, Phil’s just looking at you and how the city lights just shine on your skin. 
But back to buying you shit!
Whether you’re the kind to react to his exorbitant gifts bashfully or immediately thank him by showering his face with lipstick-stained kisses, there is nothing in the world he wouldn’t get for you. Even with a mere glance at an item as you window shop, don’t be surprised to find it under your pillow or suspiciously slipped into one of your bags at the barracks. So, the second he notices your eyes linger on something, he will buy it, with or without your knowledge. 
This is just my two cents, but most, if not, all of the blorbos I've written for have a deep passion for you in red lipstick, and Phil is no doubt a part of that list. Even if you can't wear it all the time for obvious reasons, he wants you to keep it with you at all times. 
Because there are days when the two of you can't be in the same team together, much to his dismay, say, because of speciality differences, so one of you is needed elsewhere. 
So, when one day, you surprise him with a little gift before his departure by leaving a pretty red kiss mark on a piece of card, handkerchief or even on the glass of his watch, just know it'll be an always-thing. A habit, if you will, even if you're on the same team at that moment.
Missions, too, even if he downright hates your choices. Again, your respect over his own ego. He won’t stop you, and he has no right to, but expect to be in the same regime/team as his. Should anything happen to you, and he prays to God nothing does, he’ll be the first to find you. 
When days off seem so far, though, his office is where the ✨️ magic happens ✨️. 
It’s a common meeting place for the two of you, be it for sharing food you snuck out of the kitchen or letting him take his frustrations out by smothering his face in between your luscious thighs while you lay back on his desk. His office just has more life whenever you arrive. The reports can wait, he’s (mostly) his own boss, after all. The time you both have is more precious. 
And the part about you blowing him under his desk while he’s on the phone is so real of you.
He’s able to drone out Shepherd’s voice on the other end of the call because he knows the general’s just repeating what they’ve discussed days or hours prior. Phil’s more focused on your glassy eyes, struggling to encompass his sheer girth in your pretty little mouth, all while attempting to smile behind your tears. Looking up at him as he tilts his head back onto the office chair and occasionally bucks his hips while he disguises his moans with mindless grunts as if he had been listening to Shepherd yapping in the first place.
“Mhm, right, right…” His jaw clenched, eyes lidded and a lazy smile worth making you whine around his cock as he stared down at you. His phone was pressed in between his shoulder and ear as he rested his forearm on the head of the chair. The other hand brushed your hair back, enjoying the way your cheeks became just a tad more prominent at his gentle touches.
“Yeah, I’ll call you back about it,” He wanted to roll his eyes, initially at the thought of having to face him again, only for it to drag into a groan when the tip of his touched the back of your throat. He tossed his phone as soon as the call ended, a smirk returning to his face when he could finally focus on you. “Sorry, pretty girl.”
You choked a little when he gently pushed you to take him even more.
Oh, he wanted to hear more of that sound.
“You can take more o’me, can’t ya?”
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
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Bonus:
Have you guys seen this video with the guy testing out a pink gun with a teddy bear keychain? THAT. Is most definitely the kind of gift that he’d definitely get for you at first sight. Deadass would twirl my hair if he got that for me.
I imagine that if your team learned about the pink gun (whether or not you added that Phil bought it for you), I just find it hilarious that they’d think it wouldn’t have a strong recoil since you didn’t seem to have a problem with it. And as soon as they give it a try, they just jerk back so violently, and Phil’s watching with the most infuriating smirk on his face since he’s seen you play and pose with it when you shoot, taking the drawbacks like no problem 😭😭
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» gorgeous rose divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics ♡
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starryficsfinishwen · 6 months
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✧!。◟[kinktober 2023] ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ — PGR & GI x reader [week 3]
baptize in your thighs until it hurts
a.n. - waow I'm on my break, what a surprise. I'm super super sorry for the delay. I got busy again after midterms week, and also other real life stuff. meanwhile I'm writing this down while in the bathroom LOL
pairings - forsaken + cerberus [watanabe, noan, noctis, murray] & anemo bois [kazuha, venti] x fem!reader
kinktober masterlist
warnings - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. NSFW THEMES: breeding kink, praise kink, size kink, bimbofication, dacryphilia, lingerie, body worship. cervix fucking?? size kink includes tummy bulging heuheue. also includes exhibitionism (bar; noctis, venti). "just the tip, but whoops" (noctis). some soft sex (kazuha, venti). cunnilingus (venti). fingering (noan, kazuha)
special mention - banners by @/rookthornesartistry, @/cafekitsune
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! — Watanabe: Epitaph [ breeding kink ]
[a.n. - have y'all SEEN this man's awakening portrait? I'm creaming.]
Your lover doesn't take “no” for an answer.
“Nngh, w-wait, Wata-ah,” your whines are muffled into the sheets, “s-slow down, please!”
You've long been accustomed to Watanabe's absence— one of the cons for being an ally of Forsaken and especially being their leader's lover. You'd spend days, even weeks and months, find yourself without him. However, you've been an angel to the faction, always helping around whenever one needs help. Things do get different by the time your lover, your Watanabe, comes home—
“That's it, fuck,” mumbled Watanabe, “doin' fucking well,”
He becomes a different person; burying into your cunt as deep as possible, fucking you into oblivion.
Unfortunately, your pleas fall on deaf ears; Watanabe's gloveless fingers trail down from the nape of your exposed neck, to the base of your spine, where your hands are currently tied, holding it down with only a fraction of his strength. His other hand grips hard on your hips, one that you were sure would leave bruises in the morning. You gasp as the sensation, tickling and teasing, overwhelm you.
“I missed you,” he groans, a hard thrust to your pussy, your walls clinging onto his large dick mercilessly. “Ah, ha, I see that this pussy missed me, too.”
“Wa-Watanabe,” you whined further, squirming as he bullies your pussy, “t-too much, s'too big...!”
“But you're taking it so well,” he hums as he leaned onto the arch of your back, one hand now fiddling with your breast, and the other now trailing to your face, “you've always taken it so, so well, darling. That's my girl, mmh?”
Your cries intensified as his free hand finds your mouth, fingers shoved in, and you automatically sucked it, “fuck, yes, that's it...fuck, good, good girl.”
You feel your walls spasm uncontrollably as Watanabe fucks you harshly, certain that his dick snugly rams into your cervix, the drag of his shaft achingly alpng your walls made you feel so full after months of his absence. You cried out, mouth drooling over his fingers, and Watanabe laughs.
“I fucked you so many times now, but you're still so tight; god, you're driving me insane.”
Your brain fogs up at his praise, drowning in the endless waves of pleasure. Without a warning, his cock still deeply inside of you, he flips you over— and you find yourself staring at his green eye.
“Mm, my darling's already fucked out, mmh?” The hand on your mouth now trails to your jaw, and you feel yourself ache as he looks at you so tenderly despite his rough thrusts, “Did you miss me that much?”
“Y-yes,” you mewled, feeling his other hand effortlessly bring your legs over his shoulder, feeling his dick bury itself deeper in you, “W-Watanabe...yo-you're going to break me-”
“Can't help it,” his other hand now frees your tied hands, “not when you looked so good with those children.”
Although your brain is a messy mush, you faintly recall the event earlier— the kids who were at Watanabe's legs, laughing and cheering for their grand hero's welcome. You remember calling them back to you to not distract Watanabe, how you laughed alongside them, and how you carefully took care of them in the main team's absence.
“W-wha-”
“You'd look so good, fuck,” his hand now grips the other side of your hip, the other on your slightly bulging belly and holding it down, somehow aware that his big dick was rearranging your insides, “if I could fill your belly up with kids, mmh? I think you'd look so good carrying our child.”
A part of you wants to point out that you can't, but god— the way his cock was splitting you in half, drilling into that one spot that's making you see so many stars, you forget and instead latch onto his broad shoulders, nails sinking into them.
“Watanabe,” you moaned, your back arching to meet his fast thrusts, “fill me up, please, fill me up so good,”
His body pressed into you, his lips nibbling onto the expanse of your neck, leaving hickies wherever he could reach, while fucking you without a fail.
“Wanna make you a daddy,” you dawdled out, cockdrunk as his dick pulsed inside of you— “fuck and fill me up, Watanabe.”
And oh, it felt so good, too good, when his grunts in your ear makes you shiver all over— the tall tale sign of him coming soon.
“God, fuck,” his fingers reached to rub your throbbing clit, your orgasm cresting over your foggy mind, “cum for me, [Y/N], let me fill you up with my cum.”
You cried out your lover's name as your high comes unexpectedly, with Watanabe unraveling alongside you— his cum filling your empty womb, overfilling you more maybe so as something wet and sticky coats your inner thighs, and him fucking you through your orgasms. Although tired, you whined as you pulled Watanabe back in your bare chest, pouting as he attempted to pull out.
“D-don't,” you whispered, lethargy pulling you to sleep, “don't wanna let your cum out...”
“I missed you, too,” Watanabe chuckles, “but you already know that...”
You pouted, feigning obliviousness, “no. But I do believe in miracles.”
You clench around him, his still-hard dick, and he looks away, his hair covering half of his face. “[Y/N]...”
“Fuck me until I can't walk, Watanabe. Who knows, you just might get me pregnant.”
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! — Noctis: Indominus [ size kink ]
Sometimes, you think your boyfriend is a little dumb.
Sure, causing a ruckus and nearly getting you (and Cerberus) in trouble nearly costs half of your mortal life— you're quite surprised you haven't ascended to heaven yet. Although that happens, you still love your boyfriend to bits; knowing that he's just a little dumb boy who needs a little guidance.
Or so you thought.
“N-Noctis!” a moan slips out of your covered mouth, as you felt his cockhead tease the entrance of your slip, “w-what if someone sees us-!”
“So they would,” he groans in your ear, breath tickling you from your neck, down to your wet cunt, “god, I will die if I can't fuck this pussy.”
“Noctis...!” Although you want to reprimand him for being less careful, you can't help but succumb to the way he shallowly thrusts into you. “I-I thought you said-”
“Mmh, just the tip, hngh,” he assures you, leaving little kisses all over your jaw, “I-I promise, it won't take long.”
You dumb ass as a boyfriend is nothing but trouble. You sigh, already feeling full just from his cockhead, “o-okay...just please, make it quick...”
“thank god,” he whines into your ear, hips uncontrollably rutting into you, “i-it won't take long.”
But your boyfriend is kind, loving even— seeing the way your lips curl into crescents, teeth biting into them as you suppress your moans, your closed eyes, pussy gripping onto him like a vice— it almost feels like he's close to drowning. Drowning to the point that he ruts into you like he's running, holding you down further.
You notice this quickly, eyes wide open as he sinks you further into his long and thick cock, tears forming in the corner of your eyes,
“W-wait...!” you cried out, feeling the delicious stretch of your cunt just to accommodate his length, “Noctis, y-you promised!”
Although it's been so many times since you've engaged in such acts, your pussy still struggles to take in everything in Noctis; sometimes, only half of his dick is inside of you. But now-
“shit,” he growled loudly, caging you further as he drills you into the walls, your cries only turning him on as he sees his cock finally nearing to be buried deep inside of you, “such a greedy little pussy.”
Your cunt throbs as a response as you felt him split you open. “Ah, hah, Noctis, p-please...”
“Look at this,” his hands run through the bulge in your stomach, where his cock snugly rests, “I knew you could take it. You're a champ, babe.”
You whined— overwhelmed as he starts to fuck you, the first time that his dick immediately reaches the sweet spots inside of you. Maybe he's not the one who's dumb, but you. It's harder to hold back your moans now, no— not when your boyfriend is now chasing the high alongside you, the pleasure burning your mind.
“Fuck that; don't cover your mouth, baby. Let the whole bar hear how you're only for me, yeah?”
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! — Noan: Arca [ praise kink ]
Noan is the prettiest construct you've ever seen in your whole life.
Soft black hair, innocent and careful lime green irises, smooth yet refined jaw— he's basically the whole package. Not only that, you're lucky to have him as your lover.
A lover who's hellbent on getting your praises.
“Good boy,” you cooed, fingers threading through Noan's hair, moans spewing out of your lips as you felt his own fingers toying inside if you, “you're doing good for me.”
Picture this: a lazy Sunday morning, and you're both watching some cheesy telenovela to pass some time before you go back to work tomorrow. At some point, while the casts are busy arguing over trivial issues, clothes have long been forgotten, and your boy is under you, looking confusingly pretty as he plays with your cunt.
You straddle him by the hips, leaning back, pride swelling in your chest as you notice Noan is trying so many things with you. His usual smiling expression is flushed pink, as he looks at you with such interest and curiosity.
“Noan, no,” you whispered, a hand on his cheek, “you're doing so, so good, nngh, I love it when you do this.”
A poor boy, just experimenting with everything new. It could be overwhelming, seeing as he never had any experience, but you think this is the perfect time to try— especially now that you're both horny.
“Fuck,” you cursed as you felt his fingers curls around the spot you've waited, “r-right there, Noan, shit, you're so good...”
Noan wouldn't admit it, but it's true- he's getting too turned on. Just the way you've looked above him, your moans and calling out to him, and just how warm and wet the inside felt. He unconsciously licks his lips as he looked up at you, already feeling so lightheaded just from looking at you.
“[Y/N],” he maintains the pace as he sees you rolling your hips to meet his thrusts, a waterfall of moans crying out his name, “you look so...”
Without a warning, you unravel in Noan's fingers, something wet and sticky coming out of your pussy. Noan keeps his fingers going, even after you came, coaxing whatever liquid was still left inside of you.
That was your first orgasm in front of the boy, somehow, it made the boy's chest throb— was he really that good? To make someone- his lover- come so good like that?
Reality pulls him back, when he felt your fingers wrap itself around his shaft, a lewd and unapologetic moan coming out of his lips. You stared back at him, a small smile on your lips.
“Did you like that, Noan?” You purred, standing a bit so you could slot yourself in between his shaft, making the both of you moan, “you made me cum with your fingers; you're doing so well.”
His dick throbs at the phrase, “i-it's my first time...”
You start to grind on his shaft, eyes rolling back at how long it would be inside of you. “Mm, I'm enjoying it, I really do confess...”
It sparked his interest. Noan shifts a bit, so the prominent vein in his dick perfectly grinds with your trembling clit, “what is, [Y/N]?”
“I think about this situation a lot.” Your grinding becomes rougher, causing the both of you to moan out loud, “god, the thought of you fucking me is so unreal; but here we are.”
He groans as he felt your hands back at his hair, pulling him close as you grinded more on his leaking cockhead now, “that you must look so pretty when you're under me...”
You stood up slightly, one hand now aligning his aching dick closer to your warm hole, “seems like I won't be imagining that now, hm?”
Moaning out his name, you bottomed out in one thrust. Noan gasps in surprise, as he felt your walls tremble with his cock inside of you.
“Look at me, Noan,” you opened your mouth to warn him, one hand tilting his chin to reach your line of vision. “you'll be a good boy and fuck me like this, yeah?”
He groans, but thrusts up, as a response to your order, “y-yes...”
“Good boy,” you cooed once more, bouncing on his cock with a smile on your face as his expression contorts in pleasure, “let me be the one to teach you proper etiquette in fucking me.”
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! — Murray: ?? [ bimbofication + dacryphilia ]
If he wasn't being a doting brother to Lee, then he's known to be one of the most calculative and cunning commandants— a well-known fact even that he is Cerberus' esteemed commandant. You wouldn't lie; Murray lived up to all his titles and responsibilities. He's the perfect man for any job you'd ask for: in politics, in the battlefield, and anything else in between.
As a foundation of his existence as an extraordinary individual, another comes into the picture: his pretty, little trophy girlfriend— you. A sweet, sweet little thing; always at his beck and call, always there to relieve him from his stress and sadness. In the eyes of those around you, you're always his support person, giving him hugs and kisses when he's looking down. You also bake pastries to give out around the hall, and occasionally to your lover's team, too. What a pretty, little, sweet thing you were—
Quite literally.
“Do you like the view?” Murray's sinister grin is etched on his face, your eyes nearly close to forming heart-shaped irises, the drag of his dick in between the crevices of your breasts, “you do, you little minx?”
Behind the tasteful eyes of the public, your Murray was not the sweet man they knew; vicious, manipulative, and—
“Yes, yes,” you dawdled out, a shudder across your body as you felt the vibrator slip in deeper inside of you, “that feels s-so good, m-master...”
Murray's favorite little plaything: you. Other than being his doting girlfriend, you were his plaything; dolled up to his preferences, always hungry for his cock.
“Mhm, it does,” Murray fucks between your breasts, his hand finding your jaw and slotting his thumb in between your open lips, “such a good girl for me.”
When he pulls away (you whine from the loss of his heat; he finds it endearing), he slowly pulls out your favorite pink vibrator out of your overstimulated pussy. You cry out, “w-wait, n-no...!”
“Mm? What's wrong?” He teases, mirth dripping from his tons, “do you prefer a poor old vibrator than my cock, dear?”
You whined once more, desperate to feel something fill up your awaiting walls, hole clenching around nothing.
“W-wanna feel you in me, m-master,” you sniffled, tears beginning to form like crystals in the corner of your eye, “I feel so empty, wan' your dick in me, master, please?”
And who was Murray to deny his pretty little plaything; you, sprawled out so beautifully in his bed, pussy aching and drenched in your arousal, little tears escaping your eyes? Murray growls as your tears begin to turn him on, crawling so that his shaft rubs your neglected pussy.
You've both been awfully stressed anyways. But god— he wishes he could keep teasing you until you break.
“Fuck, pretty girl,” he moans your name when the tip of his cock catches your clit, “be good for me, hm? I'm going to start fucking you...”
Without a delay, he slips in his pussy into your wet, warm walls; the instrusion make the both of you cry out. Tears now spill out of your eyes, and Murray ruts into you, without even letting you adjust.
“God, still so tight for me,” he chuckles, watching you squirm as he fucks you harder, “my little girl, my little plaything.”
But you've long descended into heaven, your wordless babbles of "more, more" and "please, more", feeling the drag of his dick now filling you up more than ever.
When Murray feels your orgasm teetering closer, he only hastens the pace, hand over your drooling mouth, as you mindlessly drown in the pleasure he gives, “You'll take more, hm? How about you count the number of times I make you cum tonight; we'll start again if you lose count, okay, darling?”
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! — Kazuha: Scarlet Leaves Pursue Wild Waves [ lingerie ]
Kazuha has always been away far too long.
Always traveling to where the winds would take him— you believe that it's really the reason why he has anemo as a vision; he can talk to the trees with only a whisper of the wind— and only comes back weeks or months later.
Although a ring is out of the picture, he once promised his love to you with the call of the wind as your witness. At first, it was stupid; but you loved him that you'd let him go, when the wind was as free as it could get.
To cope with his absence, you started to look for ways to surprise your lover when he comes back. At first, they were little trinkets you'd find by the market, into desserts and food that you can make. Quite recently though, after asking around the married ladies in Liyue harbor, they told you about a secret they'd do when they wait for their husbands at sea: wearing something that their husbands couldn't wait to see them in.
Lo and behold, an autumn-colored lace drapes around your body. Lingerie. Although it's awkward (you've never been entirely confident with your physique), you think that it might look different in your lover's eyes anyway. You prepare to put it away, waiting for the day Kazuha would come home.
Yet, that day seemed to be today.
“Are you trying that on for me, my love?”
You whirled around to meet Kazuha, who was leaning by the doorframe, a gentle smile on his lips. Quickly, you try to grab the nearest clothing to shield yourself from his knowing gaze, “K-Kazuha! You're home early!”
He says nothing, but walks lightly to you. You back away until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you are left with Kazuha, bodies touching and his face inches away from you.
“I asked you a question, my dove,” he smiles, taking your hand to his lips, “are you trying this on for me?”
You try not to look at his face, guilt and embarrassment making your cheeks flush a deep shade of red, “I-I...was just trying them on...”
“My dove, my love,” he calls out, lips from your hand now trailing to your shoulder blades and to your jaw, a soft kiss there, “why are you so flustered?”
“U-um...”
Words die on your throat, as you felt his hands snake to your hips, guiding you onto the bed, his lips kissing and teeth nibbling on your skin. “You look...very beautiful in it. I know you've always been so beautiful, but in this...you look so...breathtaking.”
You softly moaned at his words and his ministrations, his kiss turning into a hickey in one side of your neck, “Kazuha, I...”
“So beautiful,” he laughs and his breath tickles your skin, your cunt throbbing when his other hand now rests at your inner thighs, massaging it down there, “my pretty dove is dressing up like a gift for me.”
His fingers deftly brush your clothed pussy, a small patch of wetness staining it. Putting light pressure onto where your clit was, Kazuha starts to rub you down there, making you squirm. But Kazuha doesn't mind; he leaves more hickies where his kisses left, his other hand now delicately massaging one mound of your breast.
“I-I wasn't sure if you'd like this...”
“Darling,” he purrs in your ear, making you shiver, “you are a gift to me; naked or not, I will always think that you are so beautiful.”
Pushing your lacey panties aside, Kazuha swiftly slips in a finger inside of you, making you gasp, but he quickly kisses you. His thumb caresses your clit while fingering your little cunt, your moans get swallowed in his kiss. The smell of Inazuman air, sakura trees, and ocean drives you insane— this was your lover, and he was back once more in your arms.
With a loud cry, you come undone in Kazuha's fingers, squirting after such an intense atmosphere. When you've calmed down, you notice a glint in Kazuha's eyes, and you knew that wasn't the end of it.
“I missed you, my dove. Why don't I show you how much I've missed you? Ah; don't take that off, I want to make love with you while you're wearing that.”
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! — Venti/Barbatos: Windborne Bard [ body worship ]
Your god is kind; benevolent, unwavering, commited.
His aquamarine eyes glow so brightly than you've ever seen before. Even as he stands before you, a sinner so bare in the eyes of a god—your god— his lips are a sweet smile, and you've known these lips for a long time now.
“My angel,” your god is a lover, voice used for singing ballads and songs of tales, “so, you are here.”
In a cathedral. In Barbatos' throne, where his lyre laid at his feet. You throb at the very thought of sinning in his holy cathedral— stained glass shone by moonlight cast an ethereal glow over the man in front of you as he looked at you with such reverence, you forgot for a moment that you were going to do something so...unholy in this sacred place.
“This is your idea,” you huffed, already feeling conscious as you shuffle in your makeshift bed (your cape and clothes), feeling so shy in your god's presence, “are you sure I won't get sentenced to hell here?”
Venti laughs, settling in between your legs, “relax~ I double checked everything. You needn't worry, my muse.”
You've always known Venti had a penchant for doing so many reckless things— never would have thought that having sex in a cathedral— his cathedral— being one. Venti blows a strong wind to your exposed cunt, causing you to yelp.
“V-Venti!”
“Pretty,” he purred, fingers tracing the inside of your thigh, “my windblume, have I ever told you how pretty you are?”
“Countless times now,” you retorted, “including now.”
“Tsk, I ought to teach you better than that.” He smiles at you, the same aquamarine irises you've fallen in love with glowing brighter once more, “this offer is so tempting, you wouldn't have the heart to deny it.”
“I'd like to see you try, then, my bard.”
Your bard, your god, chuckles. Effortlessly, he hoists your legs up to his shoulder blades, your ankles over his shoulders. You watch as he keeps his gaze at you, sultry and honest, as he kisses the area above your feet.
“My windblume,” he breathed into your legs, trailing kisses without breaking eye contact, “my precious dove,”
He kisses and kisses— your legs, your knees, the back of your knees— and you think of it so endearing, even as arousal pools down there, and his kisses are still so gentle; his fingers would absentmindedly trail your thighs, and his gaze was far too intense, you had to look away.
“My muse, don't look away,” his spare hand finds your jaw, to make you look at him, as he goes down and kisses the inside of your thighs. “let me worship you, the same way you did to me.”
It tugs an unknown emotion in your heart, as you cannot look away; no, when he reverently kisses the inside of your thighs more, near your sopping wet core. It makes you cry out—“Venti,” but he nibbles that area more.
Your god spews words of worship and prayers in between them, your core that throbs at his words. You hold onto his hair, but he remains unfazed, only teasing you more.
“Barbatos,” you cried out, and Venti only smiles down there.
“Yes, call me that, my muse,” he holds onto your hips, as he licks a long stripe of your pussy, tasting you.
“Call your god,” he whispers in between your folds, now hellbent to fuck you with his tongue, “and I'll make you cum.”
Venti is relentless as he tastes you, face buried in between your legs. You moan and cry out his name, archons your witness; but tonight, your god forgets he is a god. Rather— he worships you, a sinner, as he makes you unravel in his touch.
“That's it, my muse,” he hums, coaxing the first orgasm of tonight, “let this cathedral know whose god you're worshipping while I fuck you hard like this.”
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-ˋˏ starryficsfinishwen ˎˊ
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