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#they mentioned on stream its coming out soon
strawchocoberry · 5 hours
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CAN YOU LET ME STRETCH THAT PUSSY OUT OR NAH?
CAMGIRL SERIES PART 4
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୨୧ featuring: michael kaiser x fem reader
ଘ cw: smut, masturbation/use of sex toys, jerking off, dubcon, coercion, intoxication kink, rough sex, nipple play, spanking, slight degradation, praise kink, clit stimulation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, choking, dumbification, dacryphilia, breeding kink, creampie
୨୧ synopsis: his favourite camgirl is his new neighbour
ଘ wc: 1.9k
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Kaiser has just returned from his practice. He walks through the building lobby to get to the lift and presses the button, the door immediately opening with a ding. He gets inside and presses the button to his floor and the door starts closing. He’s startled as someone barely manages to squeeze through just in time.
“Oh, hi,” you greet him, panting. “Sorry, I didn’t want to wait.”
Kaiser remains silent as he watches you press the button on the floor beneath his and leave the grocery bags on a corner. You’re awfully familiar to him. Your hair, your face, your body. There’s no mistaking it. You’re his favourite camgirl, whom he has spent quite the exorbitant amount of money on. And it’s obvious, seeing as you can now afford to rent a penthouse at a luxurious apartment building like this. He assumes that your move here is the reason you haven’t done a livestream lately.
He decides not to mention that he’s a fan of yours, not wanting to put you in an awkward position and instead strikes up a conversation, welcoming his new neighbour. You’re so happy to have made a friend, since you’ve barely talked to the other tenants, being too busy with decorating your house and assembling your bedroom for the streams. You wanted to get back to streaming as soon as possible.
Bidding him goodbye when you reach your floor, you pick up your grocery bags and exit the lift, entering your apartment. What you don’t see is Kaiser’s lustful eyes following you until the door of the lift closes and it starts ascending again. Now that you live in the same building as him, it’ll be easier for him to see you more often — and off camera. And maybe he’ll get the chance to make his fantasy of fucking you a reality.
Late that night, you stream for the first time in a while. Your chat is flooded by your fans welcoming you back and telling you how much they’ve missed you. You spend an hour or so simply talking to them, catching up and all. The real fun begins when you reveal your little surprise for the night. You will be using a vibrator and based on the amount of tips you get, its volume will gradually increase. If you manage to not cum for twenty minutes, then you win. But if you fail, then your fans can punish you however they like in your next livestream.
Lifting up your oversized t-shirt, you sit comfortably on your bed with your legs spread to the camera, your pussy on full display. Soft moans leave your lips as you hold the vibrator to your folds, your tips increasing with each passing second. Within the first ten minutes, you’ve hit the max speed of your vibrator. Your squirm and whimper, doing your best to hold out for the remaining time.
Kaiser watches the scene unfold from behind his screen, as he strokes his hardened cock. “Fuck,” he groans, his head falling back on his seat. He keeps sending you the biggest tips of all, wishing you’ll lose. Because he has just the right punishment in mind. And when his wish is answered and you spectacularly lose, cumming hard on camera, he cannot contain his smirk from growing wider. A moment later, he comes too, watching you slowly come down from your high.
“I really thought I’d win,” you pout. “But a bet is a bet. So, what do you want me to do?”
There are many ideas in the chat, quite banal to Kaiser’s eyes. Cleaning his hand with a few tissues, he then types: How about you take an aphrodisiac on camera? One by one, all the other fans agree to his suggestion.
And so it’s decided. The next night, during your livestream, you take an aphrodisiac. While everything seems fine at the beginning, you’re soon enough writhing in ecstasy, touching your sensitive body and using all kinds of toys at your disposal to relieve this feeling. The livestream is your best thus far, with the highest rate of earnings. Yet even after two hours of masturbating on camera, you’re still consumed by the effects of the aphrodisiac.
When your doorbell rings at 3 am, you’re so confused. You throw a silk robe over your body and drag yourself to the door. Your eyes widen when you see Kaiser standing at your doorstep, shirtless with only a pair of grey sweatpants on. His lascivious eyes devour you whole, his smirk betrays how pleased he is to see you like this.
“I hope you enjoyed my gift,” he says, stepping inside and closing the door.
You don’t quite understand the meaning of his words, your mind a dazed mess from the aphrodisiac. But when he kisses you, you don’t pull away. Instead you pull him closer, consumed by your desire to relieve this intense fire that’s taken over you. Kaiser smirks at your kiss, picking you up in his arms and carrying you to your bedroom. He lies you down and feasts on your voluptuous body, as the robe has come undone.
He kisses your lips again, while his hands explore your body. He fondles your breasts and pinches your hardened nipples, making you squirm underneath him. You break the kiss, your head falling back on the mattress, as Kaiser trails his kisses down your neck and collarbone, reaching your tits. He sucks and nibbles, playing with your nipples and eliciting whiny moans from your lips that make him harder than he already is. Your grinding your soaked pussy over his clothed cock doesn’t help at all.
“K-Kaiser, please…” you beg, looking at him with pleading eyes. He’s too weak to do anything as you pull his sweatpants and underwear down his ankles. Your eyes widen at the size of his cock and he swears he sees hearts in your irises. “I want your cock,” you plead, aligning him with your hole.
He instinctively thrusts inside you, both of you moaning at the sensation. You’re clamping ever so delightfully around him, just as he had imagined so many fucking times. Kaiser doesn’t bother going slow. He knows that’s not what you want right now. And if he’s honest, it’s not what he wants either. Stepping out of his clothes, he starts pounding into you hard. Your back arches off the bed and he grips your waist, slamming your hips on his, hitting your g spot and having you cum in mere seconds.
“Look at you,” Kaiser coos, looking down at you. “So sensitive, so desperate,” he says in a degrading tone. But fuck him if your pulsing cunt isn’t driving him insane. He keeps fucking you, burying his face in your tits, while his hand slides down your body leaving a trail of fire at its way and starts rubbing your sensitive clit, making you writhe in pleasure. He stretches your tight pussy so insanely well, your eyes roll to the back of your skull. He thrusts inside you one more time, before burying himself to your velvet depths and unload his seed.
He straightens his posture, running a hand through his hair, slightly panting. Kaiser is surprised when you pull him down, crushing your lips on his and flipping you over. Your legs straddle his toned thighs and you moan in your kiss, feeling his cock growing harder inside you. He grabs your hair and pulls you back, before burying his face in your neck to leave his marks. You start bouncing on his cock, moaning his name, as he stretches you even further than before.
When he finishes his masterpiece, you straighten your back, riding him and showing off his mark on your neck. Your hair whip in the air, your tits bouncing with your every movement. Sweat glistens down your body, yet in his eyes you look like a goddess. His tattooed hand finds your neck, choking you slightly. Instinctively, your pussy clenches around him. Yet your tired body can’t keep this up for long.
Kaiser realises that and starts thrusting up in your dripping cunt, the squelching sounds lingering on his ears. You moan his name, holding his hand that’s choking you with both yours. Tears spring down your cheeks as you come again. He fucks you through your high, pushing himself off the bed and wrapping his strong arms around your body, feeling it tremble. “Fuck, you’re so cute,” he whispers, his lips brushing yours, before he devours them once more.
A low moan escapes your lips when he pulls out, chuckling at your whiny complaint. “Next time you want to fuck me, I’ll charge you more.”
Kaiser bursts out laughing. “Oh? Am I caught?” he innocently asks with a huge grin on his face.
The aphrodisiac has gradually lost its effect for a while now. It was already weak when Kaiser appeared at your door. Even so, you could barely refuse him. You’ve wanted to fuck him from the moment you met in the lift the previous day.
You wrap your arms around his neck, resting you head on his shoulder. “Handsome bastard,” you murmur.
You squeal as Kaiser spanks your arse. Yet with each spank, your cunt drips from the stinging sensation. He pushes you on your stomach down on the bed and hovers over you, spreading your legs with his. When you turn to look at him over your shoulder, your lips part to moan, as he slowly pushes inside you again.
“You know, I haven’t come yet.” He bottoms out and you whimper, as he nearly crushes you with his weight. His tattooed hand snakes around your neck, turning your face to look at him. “Be a good girl and let me cum one more time,” he orders and you’re throbbing.
Kaiser doesn’t wait for you to answer and starts thrusting hard, shaking the entire bed. You grip the bedsheets tightly, burying your face in the pillow in front of you. He smirks, but doesn’t allow you to muffle your screams. He wants the entire building to hear how good his cock feels fucking you. Wrapping your hair nicely around his palm, he forces your head out of the pillow.
“Let me hear you, sweetheart,” he pants, smacking your already reddened arse. “Let me hear you scream my name.”
“F-Fuck, Kaiser,” you whimper. “S-Slow down. I’m really sensitive.”
“That’s a good girl,” he exclaims pleased, before picking up his pace.
His aggressiveness leaves you nothing but a mumbling mess of incoherent words and moans. You’re too dumbfucked to resist anything he gives you. Kaiser can’t help but chuckle when you come before him for another time. Your arousal mixes with his and forms a white ring around his cock. He groans, as he spills his hot cum inside you. When he pulls his cock out, he watches as your juices drip down your hole.
You can barely keep your eyes open, blinking in vain to stay awake. Kaiser sits besides you on the bed, soothingly running his hand up and down your tensed back. You want to punch him for making you so sore, but you’re too tired to move. He leans down and kisses your lips, smirking as you moan a bit.
“Next time, you need to last more,” Kaiser whispers in your ear.
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© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, translate or reuse my work
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hoohoobeanie · 4 months
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shaymanda fnaf part 2 tonight besties ???
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magentagalaxies · 6 months
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in an unexpected turn of events i'm having to edit down the content in my aubrey monologues so that i can actually fit all four of them in my final performance for my standup class and on the one hand it sucks bc i really love some of the jokes i have to cut but on the other hand someday i'll be able to write more monologues and possibly expand upon this cut material so i can get a whole monologue on a topic that would've just been an aside
#the actual standups in my class who have only ever done a tight five having to stretch their new material to fit the 20 minute final#vs me‚ an extremely extra fag who's used to writing full-length scripts‚ realizing the 3 monologues i've timed already add up to 20 min#and i'm working on a fourth one that works better as an opener than any of the existing pieces so it has to get in#(it'll be short tho i'm making sure of it. it's just like ''here's some material about aubrey's relationship to zir mom!'')#(then immediate segue into the uncle reg bit)#got the catcalling monologue down to 5 minutes and 30 seconds when the first draft was nine minutes#(tbh i'm fine with most of those cuts i think they were mostly filler)#(there's a bit about androgyny that i liked that i cut but tbh it doesn't work as just one paragraph it needs more nuance)#the uncle reg monologue is having the ''dumped at the pride parade'' thing trimmed down which is funny bc that was the original premise#tbh i could probably stretch my toronto pride material ft. uncle reg to a full 20 minutes bc the first stream of consciousness was so long#i wrote it right after i myself got back from toronto pride and tbh i actually wrote it as the outline for a sitcom episode#so the monologue version is very reduced down bc there were so many details that didn't fit in#and i'm realizing the material about the person who dumped aubrey should be its own monologue that i'll do another time#and maybe even add in the rest of the sitcom-style story at some point bc tbh that's some of my favorite aubrey material i've come up with#and the cishetman monologue is getting the intro part about facetime trimmed a bit bc it meanders#and the ''sugar and spice and everything nice'' joke is being cut even tho i like it bc i actually have a ton more material in my notebook#that's just me riffing on how weird those expressions are. and the material isn't polished but i could make it something later#the song isn't being trimmed bc it has a very specific run time and imo is the strongest. so that's my closer#anyway thank you to everyone reading my aubrey updates i'll be sure to post the final 20-minute-special on youtube#and i hope i get to do more monologues soon so i can put the other ideas mentioned here (as well as some i haven't) out into the world
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dante-mightdie · 2 months
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Viking!Soap who goes off pillaging, as one does in their free time, and comes back to Price with the squealing, kicking daughter of their (now dead) enemy clan’s chief.
Basically, “Look what I caught,” he says as reader kicks at him to let her go, to no avail, as she calls him a brute. He looks at Price like a dog bringing its master a bird.
god I woke up and hour ago to check my inbox and you guys sent in so many good ass requests i’m so proud of all of you
c/w: basically kidnapping, anal, stripping, dub-con/non-con, mentions of alcohol and pillaging, I can’t write in a scottish accent leave me alone
price had already settled down for the evening, his heavy cloak was slung over the chair in the corner of the room. his long hair had been taken out of the same bun he puts it in everyday, mousse brown hair falling in waves all the way down to his shoulders
he had planned on relaxing in front of the fireplace, nursing a bottle of mead but those plans seem unlikely now judging by the sounds of chaos approaching his tent. loud boisterous footsteps and laughter combined with high-pitched shrieks and cries
john knows that it’s johnny before he even sees him, that scottish brogue is unmistakable. he lets out a deep sigh when he finally sees the warrior burst into his home, a wound-up girl slung over his shoulder. price narrows his eyes as he watches johnny manhandle you, your back to his chest as he holds you down with his arms around your waist
“look what a’ found for ye, chief.” johnny says, a big grin spreading across his face as you kick and thrash in his arms, screaming your head off about what a brute he is, “stop yer whingin’, hen.”
“found?” price grunts out, taking a sip of the honeyed alcohol with a seemingly unfazed look on his face. your aggravated thrashes have calmed down to quiet sobs as you plead for these big, horrible men to let you go
“Anno ye said tae leave that clan alone, chief but ah caught this one bathing in the stream and knew ye would like her.” you can practically hear johnnys tail wagging when the apparent chief stands up and walks over to you, gripping your chin to examine your face before letting out a pleased grunt
“ye like her?” johnny all but whines, dropping you to the floor when the chief jerks his head to signal to out you down. you scramble to your feet, taking a few steps back and backing yourself into a corner
price lets out a small amused huff at your fight, downing the rest of his drink in a few big gulps. he walks over to you, your attempts to push him away are pitiful as his hands grip the hem of your dishevelled dress and tears the fabric in two
you squeal and weakly punch at his chest as he strips you down with what seems like no effort at all. your hands only stopping to cover your completely exposed body. johnny takes this as his cue to leave, turning on his heel with a defeated look on his face
“get over here, boy. I’ll let you have a taste after i’m finished with her.” price says, not even turning to look at johnny. instead keeping his animal gaze on your tits as he gropes them with his rough hand, “need you to tire her out so she doesn’t keep me up all night.”
johnny doesn’t need to be told twice as he takes his spot next to the bed, hand sliding up his kilt to stroke at his cock which had been hard since he snatched you up from your burning home
john grabs your upper arm and manhandles you over to the bed, bending you over the mattress and pinning your wrists to your lower back with just one of his monstrous hands
“please.” you plead, “i’m already promised to someone!”
price lets out a proper laugh at that one, lifting his spare hand and bringing it down on your ass with a thundering crack that echoes throughout the room. you squeal out in bed, pushing back your hips when his hand soothes over sore skin
“then I guess i’ll just have to kill him.” he grunts with a weak shrug of his shoulders as he shamelessly gropes your ass. this does little to soothe you as you soon start up your useless kicking and thrashing again. price only responds to this with another hard slap to your ass, “settle down. I’m not gonna fuck your cunt tonight. I know a lady when I see one. I’ll treat you proper on our wedding night, yeah?”
john uses his grip on your ass to spread your cheeks, spitting a fat glob of salvia at the right rim of muscle above your pussy. two of his thick fingers prodding at your ass before slipping inside. you squirm in his tight hold, let out a loud whine
he lets you adjust for a little while, waiting until your cries had settled down to soft sniffles before beginning to fuck your ass with his fingers. johnny makes himself known with his soft grunts and the slick sounds of his cock being stroked under his kilt
your soft pleads for him to stop are coated with cracked moans as he stretches your ass out. ha scissors his fingers inside, pulling them out when he feels little resistance. he fishes his cock out from his trousers and pressing the tip to the entrance of you
you whine and wiggle your hips slightly, your pathetic attempts at trying to get away do nothing to help as he grabs his cock and pushes himself inside you. his fingers couldn’t compare to this burn of being stretched like this on his cock
johnny lets a choked moan, throwing his head back as precum dribbles from his tip
“quit your whining, mutt. you’ll get your turn.” john grunts, grabbing your legs and putting them over his shoulders as he begins to fuck into your ass relentlessly
his face is inches away from yours, the animalistic glint in his eyes is a sharp contrast to the glossy, subdued look in yours
“he wouldn’t know what to do with a wiley little brat like you, girlie.” he grunts in your ear, one hand coming down to rub your clit with his thumb. he lets out a loud groan when he feels your ass clamp down around his thick cock, “don’t worry, I’ll take all that fight outta ya.”
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lemmetreatya · 1 year
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driving instructor!nanami who knows as soon as you step into his car, that you’re going to fail.
with your hot pink acrylics that click, clack against the wheel, your mini skirt that just about covers the round of your ass and the see-through mesh top you hone that you wear absolutely no solid material underneath. with driving instructor!nanami knows he shouldn’t look but he can’t help his eyes that glance towards your perked nipples that are clearly begging for attention.
and the thing is, it’s not like driving instructor!nanami wants to fail you, but he does have his doubts when you ask him if you can finish the test early because you have “a more important function to attend to.”
But alas, driving instructor!nanami let’s you take your test. and despite his misconception, you’re not a bad driver. you end the course with no major faults but you just about have one-too-many minors and sadly he has to fail you.
“what?! only one minor over the threshold?!”
your glossed pout is adorable and driving instructor!nanami hates that you look you’re about to cry — especially since he’s the one who’s caused your sadness.
but its when you ask if there’s really nothing you could do then and there to make things right or fix the mishap, that driving instructor!nanami suddenly has a change of heart and mentions how maybe there is something you could do to maybe fix it.
driving instructor!nanami is absolutely mesmerised by how your breast bounce in his face, your pathetic little whines of “i can’t do it, i can’t, i can’t!” as you struggle to ride his heavy cock in the back seat.
he bunches your now pleatless skirt in his hands as he grasps at the fat of your ass, swishing his fingers inside your puckered hole as he chants back “yes you can” with the utmost lack of remorse.
the double penetration is so overstimulating that you squirt a messy spray of wet juice all over driving instructor!nanami’s dick, his tan coloured trousers and back car seat darkening in colour. driving instructor!nanami moans loudly into your ears as he pulls out and cums just over your moist pussy lips. he makes sure to tap the head of his cock over the steady stream of liquid that pours from your sex.
“you think im gonna let you pass after you just spoilt my car?”
you whimper at his sign of possible denial of passing, your mind still hazy from your shocking orgasm. on impulse, your hand comes down to languidly stroke at driving instructor!nanami’s dick. as if it wasn’t wet enough from both of your cums, you swaddle a bout of saliva in your mouth before dribbling it down over his curved and semi hard cock.
as a string of spit still dangles from your chin and lips, you give driving instructor!nanami a teary eyed yet manipulative look.
“please.” you whisper.
it’s safe to say that on that day, you gained your driver’s licence.
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yuitoru · 4 months
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𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 - 𝐒.𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
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🌀 — streamerbf! satoru gojo x fem! reader | 🌀 ft — fluff, angst(?) | 🌀 cw — swearing, satoru cant pull to save his life, mentions of death threats |
s.gojo streamer!au - the first time you make an (accidental) appearance on satoru's live stream
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"that guy is definitely cheating!!" satoru groaned in frustration as he ran his hands through his fluffy white hair, grimacing down at the now loading screen in front of him. the neon lights from his monitor shone onto his face, the brightness clearly way too high but he always refused to change it - as he squinted to read the influx of comments in the live comments of his stream, a certain few caught his eye.
fushtoji : 'this guy actually sucks.'
kamo_choso : 'dead game tbh'
a small scowl almost instantly formed on his face, his eyes narrowed as he stared dead at the screen. "firstly, i do not suck! that was one bad round!! and second, fortnite is not a dead game. its in its redemption arc and you know it," satoru huffed, his face resembling a pouty toddler. he spun in his chair to look over to where you where sprawled out on his bed, scrolling through your phone. "can you believe this?? my own viewers are bullying me!!"
meg_gumi : 'oh great hes talking to himself.'
yuujiii : 'is someone there?'
"i am not talking to myself! fucking hell, whats with everyone taking the piss out of me today..." satoru said with a sigh, looking over at you with a pout. "babyyyy, make them stop..!!" he whined, dramatically hanging his head in his hands. you laughed softly, sending him a small smile before going back to your phone - however, your laugh had been just audible enough for it to be picked up by satoru’s mic, resulting in a rapid increase in his live chat comments.
user19899 : ‘wait is someone acc there??’
phantom08 : ‘it sounded like a girl..’
fushtoji : ‘dont tell me this guy actually has a gf.’
satoru glared at his camera before groaning and rolling his eyes, a whiny tone in his voice as he huffed. "why is it so hard for you all to believe that i have a girlfriend??! honestly im hurt..."
ryokuna : 'negative rizz.'
"i dont see why youre talking after your girlfriend just broke up with you, sukuna!" satoru mocked, sticking his tongue out before spinning back around on his chair to face you again. he opened his arms for you to come cuddle him, as one of his hands reached towards his keyboard to disable the camera. you slid off of his bed and walked towards him, before sitting down on his lap and cuddling into his chest. satoru pressed an attack of kisses against the top of your head, his hands roaming up and down your back. what the two of you were unaware of was the fact that satoru hadnt turned off his camera, instead only muting the stream, meaning that both your face and the way you were curled up in his arms were visible to the entire stream - over 20k people, at least.
fushtoji : 'oh shit he does actually have a gf.'
gojoswhore : 'WHAT NO WAY'
meg_gumi : 'this guy out of everyone???'
the two of you stayed how you were, completely oblivious to the fact that your relationship had just been exposed to his whole fanbase, and that the news would practically spread like wildfire. after a few minutes, you shuffled a bit in satoru's arms, trying to get comfortable, but his monitor caught the corner of your eye, causing your face to drop in shock. satoru followed your gaze, eventually locking with his own eyes from his screen, as he realised what had just happened. he scrambled forwards to cover your face and turn off his camera, letting out a groan as he looked at you.
"shit, baby, 'm so sorry.. i honestly didnt realise," he sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. he knew that you would eventually be shown on camera to meet his fans, but not this soon, and not like this. you two had just been shown in a private moment - something that satoru didnt want his audience to see. he looked up at you with an apologetic expression, before gently pressing a kiss to your forehead.
the chats had already started rolling in, with thousands of people commenting on your relationship, your appearance... it felt awful, like the entire world was now watching every single one of your movements and all having their own things to say about it. you couldnt have been on camera for more than a minute or two, but the chat was flooded with people's thoughts.
user38384 : 'shes pretty, but nothing special tbh'
kikio001 : 'kinda expected more from gojo'
miko3 : 'i think shes rly pretty, whats w the hate???'
mods had already started stepping in and removing the rude commenters, but the damage had already been done. people had seen your face for the first time, and were assuming all sorts of things about you. satoru noticed your downcast expression, and leaned forward to reach his keyboard, before unmuting himself, not bothering to turn the camera back on.
"if you are already commenting shit about my girlfriend, who you dont even know, and wont get to know the way i do, then youre honestly just a pathetic excuse for a human. show some more damn respect, its not hard to be a good person," and he ended the stream right there. wiping away any stray tears that had collected in your eyes, satoru smiled down at you before lifting you into his arms and standing from his chair, before carrying you back towards his bed and setting you down. he quickly slipped under the duvet with you, bringing your body into his chest as he sighed softly. "dont worry, baby.. ill sort this all out, okay? you dont have to ever come back onto the stream if you dont want to. i love you, pretty."
his gentle words, as well as his soft embrace, slowly lured you into your exhaustion - you were on the brink of sleep when you felt satoru press a feather-light kiss to your head, and that was the last thing you remembered before you fell asleep, completely safe and protected from all the harsh comments in satoru's arms, and that was the way that it would always be.
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© yuitoru™ — dont copy, plagiarise, repost, modify and/or translate my works
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hoseoksluna · 5 months
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BOOKWORMS | knj
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pairing: boyfriend!namjoon x reader
genre: smut; fluff
word count: 4.4k
summary: namjoon thinks of you when he reads a smut scene in his book.
warnings: boyfriend namjoon!!!, kimi namijoon reading, mentions of sex (riding), oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, the importance of consent, teasing, raw sex, breeding kink <3, big dick namu!!, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, joonie's chain dangling in ur face, tummy bulge, creampie, bruising, hickeys, aftercare:(
note: it took blood, sweat and tears (hehe) to write this and i'm so happy it's finally here!! i loved writing about namjoon. he's my whole soul and the entirety of my heart and i have to write abt him again soon. please take your time reading this and enjoy urself! let me know what you think in the comments mwah (or tell me anonymously in my inbox) and as i always say please like and if u want to - reblog, but i won't pressure u baby. love love you!!
side note: if you want to jump straight to the smut, it's right under the asterisks &lt;;3
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You revel, you truly do, in seeing your boyfriend in such a serene state of mind. 
Nose buried in a book, Namjoon pays no mind to the surroundings fleeting by him with each flutter of his eyelashes. It goes unnoticed by him, strangely so, how you tidy up the apartment you share. How you feed the two cats that chose you and him to be their human parents. How you fondle their soft ears. How you bend over the furniture to whisper ‘pspsps’ at them when they need a moment away from you just to see their round eyes look up at you stupidly. Namjoon usually observes these moments; this utmost natural behavior of yours. He draws strength from the homeliness of it all with each and every swell of his lungs. Needs it to survive. That is until he gets a hold of that one papery portal and sits comfortably on the couch, one ankle propped over the knee. Then, he ceases to exist in this world. 
You’re happy for him. Over time, you’ve come to find that you have a certain fondness for the way he remains stoic. Because you always know what kind of book he’s reading, a smile blossoms on its own over the line of your lips whenever your eye catches the sculpture-like look on his face. It’s like even if he let himself hold his breath, his consciousness would waver back to the earth and the wretched awareness that he’s here, among mortals and the unfair capitalist system aftermath, would stream in his bloodstream, poisoning his experience. It takes the leisure out of it and makes the bed for misery instead. He doesn’t like it. Hates it, in fact. It’s a necessity that he focuses, as he embarks on the journey, because he does it for you.
Namjoon confides in his feelings and his literature with you almost on a daily basis. On the same couch, with the same cats snoring faintly, their small bodies spilling over the perimeter of your tangled legs. Doesn’t matter if it’s his thigh or the curve of your hip. The animals always find a warm crook to doze in, eavesdropping in, with their curious little ears, on the conversations you’re having. Though you reckon they like the meat of his thigh the best. You do, too. Can’t really blame them. The same serenity that intimately knows the person of Namjoon perceives the person of you when he prompts you to rest your head on his lap while he brushes his book-kissed fingers through the silky waterfall of your hair. Thoroughly explains the intricacies of the plot he’s invested in to you. Describes the characters as if they’re real people he’s become acquainted with. They are real to you as you listen. As you ask additional questions and gaze up at his eyes just to catch that one body of a shooting star fiery hot in the glossiness of his eyes. As you wonder, openly, what will happen to them.
“I’ll tell you when they tell me.” He sunk the promise onto the smooth skin of your forehead with the pucker of his lips.
It’s how you discovered, in all seriousness, that the plaster of his stoicism breaks during these literary moments.
Various colors of emotion tug and twist his features, the bare kind. The unrestrained kind. You know it’s a relief for him when the dam bursts open, soaking you in the beauty of humanness one only finds in literature these days. You can’t help but fall in love with him all over again when his eyebrows furrow. When his orbs nearly burn a hole in the ceiling when he’s trying to think of the right word that will ultimately help him convey the unfolding of the storyline. When he gives up and weaves English into his sentences, relying on his hands to say what his overstimulated brain fails to do. 
He reads to pass knowledge to you. The serenity whispered it into the chambers of your heart, a puff of hot breath in winter’s cold. It soothingly rubbed his shoulders when Namjoon told you there used to be a time when he couldn’t stand the sight of his books lining up the walls of his apartment. Wanted to burn it down and watch as the evidence of his melancholy dies in front of him. Because that’s what most of his book collection consisted of back then. The innermost shadowy faces of his pain. Loneliness. Sadness. Despair from life, from it not being enough for him, from it not saving a spot there for him–not once throughout the course of his life. That’s why he reads different kinds of books now. Ones that do not reflect his survival before you.
The reader has to get wiser, ruffled by life in order to gain more, gain what they need from those once deeply loved pages. It’s what the serenity believes. It’s what you believe and hope for Namjoon. That one day, somehow by the healing of the love you give him, he will look back and pick a souvenir from that moonless country of pain. Put it up somewhere between the spines of his new cluttered collection. Look at it from time to time and sense that it’s telling him something. Something that will fill the stitched-up cracks in his heart with sunlight. Something that he will pass over to you. It’s your love language after all. Namjoon reads because you read. It’s his own personal healing thing. 
You two are just a pair of two bookworms. Unfit for the world outside. Fit for the land you two created. Whose soil you take care of together.
***
Dinner is almost ready by the time you feel his fingertips gripping your hips. You hum, acknowledging his presence. Glad for the homely heat that radiates off of his body and seeps into your bones as you stir the risotto you decided to make on the stove. Coldness had been embracing you all day while he read so you’re overjoyed that he ripped it away from you.
Namjoon places a kiss on your temple and you sigh in relief. You might be too dependent on him, but so is he. He wouldn’t be nuzzling his face in your hair, squeezing your waist, peppering kisses on your tender skin if he wasn’t. It’s the perfect balance. And it’s not that you’re not able to be away from each other. The principle of looking forward to one another is what makes it so sweet, so endurable for the pair of you. Of the coming back and coming into contact at the end of the day. It’s natural. Simple. Human.
“Missed me?” Namjoon husks into your ear. 
You smirk and turn off the stove, turning around to face him. “Terribly.”
His body is clad in a black T-shirt that fits his broad figure well and a pair of baggy sweats of the same color, having discarded the warm crewneck he was wearing earlier somewhere in the universe of his book. A long silver chain twinkles in the middle of his chest in the yellow light. You caress it with your fingers and leave your palm there, on the hardness of his pecs. 
“I finished the book,” he says and you blink up at him. You’re not surprised at all. “Couldn’t put it down.”
Sleepy wrinkles have left their mark on his face from the cozy position he laid in for too long on the couch. His short sunlit hair, grown healthily from his military service, is tousled in all directions and you smooth it down for him. How did God bless you with such a beautiful man is something you’ll wonder about for the rest of your life. 
“What happened to Theo in the end?” you ask, genuinely curious about whether one of the characters you’ve grown attached to is okay after all the shit the author put him through. 
Namjoon was reading a coming-of-age book about a boy named Theo. A panorama of his childhood and adolescent life, you’ve heard all about it. Namjoon cared a lot about this story, cared a lot about the protagonist’s emotions and reactions to the reappearing storms. What made him stick with it, despite the nearly triggering themes, is the fact that Theo never let go of his optimism no matter what. It was incredibly inspiring for Namjoon. Something new. Something that he never thought could be possible. You’re proud of him for daring to read a book so reminiscent of his past.
“You’re not gonna believe it,” Namjoon says, a blush creeping along his cheeks.
You raise one of your eyebrows in question. 
“Theo got laid,” Namjoon reveals, laughing softly. “I’m so happy for him.”
You gasp and burst into giggles. “What?”
“He got some!” 
Your laughter rises in volume. “He lost his virginity and that’s the end?”
“It was a big moment for him. A triumph of some kind. Like he shed his old skin and left that broken life behind. It was amazing.” Namjoon’s eyes glint with tiny shooting stars and you melt. He always finds poetic meanings in the varieties of the character arcs. You think you just fell in love with him all over again. 
“That’s really beautiful,” you admit. It reminds you of something. Of something quite personal. “My first time with you changed my life as well.”
Namjoon’s eyebrows curl in tenderness. Dragon eyes widen and round in fervent emotion. He squeezes his arms around you, enfolding you in a hug. Kisses you warmly. Strokes your hair down your back. Your own eyes pool with little tears with the intimate knowledge that you chose the right person to unfold your raw femininity with. No one, no man other than him could have created such a safe for that to happen.
“Tell you what,” Namjoon says a bit hoarsely. “I saw us in it.”
You hum, encouraging him to continue. Crave for more of his thoughts and confidential findings. Its fire spreading through your body, as each word of his registers in your brain, always makes you feel phenomenally alive. You’re not timid to avow that it’s your addiction. Shame doesn’t know you.
“Elena was on top and he was watching her. In awe of her,” he murmurs, caressing your cheek with the tip of his thumb. “Made me think of our last time. A life changing experience of mine as well.”
You welcome the fire and suspire with sudden desire, eyes lidding. Your heart begins to thump. Namjoon studies your reaction. 
“You remember well, don’t you?” He nudges his nose against yours. “I was in awe of you just the same.” 
It’s impossible not to remember. The memory consumes your mind every waking hour. Gets you needy in ways you haven’t felt before. Namjoon had you sat on his lap among the fluffiness of your innumerable pillows and plushies. Had you do all the work as he focused on the sleekness of your freshly moisturized calves, its coconut aroma interfused with the scent of sex and the euphony of your bounces, ragged breaths and broken moans making his head all fucked up. He was loud himself, more loud than you ever recalled him being. Reading your body at the mercy of the pleasure his hard length was giving you with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Not once did he take his eyes off of you, not once did he help you. Just gripped your calves. Your thighs. Your tits all in his face. Only when you came hard, out of your own delightful merit, did his eyes roll back. You left his hips glazed with the evidence of your well-deserved orgasm, a porcelain statue made glossy.
A little later, during your pillow talk, he told you he’d found the idea of you using him while getting yourself off extremely hot. Made him more hard than he’d been in a while. Begged you to be even more selfish next time, adding an indistinct, ‘well, of course, if you want’ to the end of his sentence because he’s Namjoon.
“I do,” you breathe. “Touched myself to it this morning while you were still asleep.”
Namjoon groans. “God.” He kisses the side of your neck. Gets close to your ear. “You wanna do it again, hm? Wanna fuck me?” 
You might burst. His closeness, his heat, his need to ask for your consent turns you unstable. You’re choked up on your words, mind too fuzzy to say something. Turned on. Fucked up.
“You wanna show me how you touched yourself?” Namjoon continues, but you shake your head against the side of his face. 
You had touched yourself in the shower. Couldn’t say no to the impulse. Sharing that part of you for his eyes to see isn’t something you’re quite ready for. To you, it’s still something that’s yours. Something private. A courage you have yet to pluck up. You’re afraid to give him this last part of your femininity.
“Not today,” you whisper, planting a kiss on his neck. Feel him shiver. “I’m sorry. Do you mind?”
Withdrawing from your neck, Namjoon looks you dead in the eye, brows twisted in stern seriousness. “Don’t ever apologize for something like that again. Hear me when I say that.”
You squeeze his shoulder, the corners of your mouth lowering in a pout. Thankfulness grips your heart and suddenly it’s hard to breathe. 
“You know this is why we do this right?” he asks you. “Why I ask you these questions? I need to always know what you’re comfortable with so I don’t make a mistake.”
You nod. “Yes, Namjoon, I know and I’m so thankful.”
“Good. I’ll never push you to do anything you don’t want. Don’t forget that, okay?”
“Okay, I won’t.” 
“That’s my girl. 
You grab him by the back of his neck and engulf him in a hug. Luckiest girl in the world? That you are. The fact that you’re his is still something you can’t wrap your head around.
“We can stop. We don’t even have to do anything tonight—”
“No, Namjoon.” You withdraw. “Look.” Wrapping your hand around his wrist, you slip his hand beneath the confines of your panties. 
His breath shakes when he reaches your soaked folds. He traces your hole with his middle finger and your hips follow his movement, the pleasure so faint but so good that you flutter your eyes closed.
“Fuck, baby.” 
“Yeah, I need you. Need more,” you breathe out. “Can’t leave me like this, can you?”
Namjoon hums. “No, I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of this pussy.” 
He kisses you. Massages his tongue against yours. You buck your hips into his hand and Namjoon hears your body language. Takes his fingers up and rubs your swollen clit from side to side, quickening his pace as he swallows your moans down his throat. Gets angry at your tight leggings hindering him in giving you more, so he gets on his knees and swiftly pulls them down along with your underwear. 
“Sit on the counter.”
You comply right away. Namjoon takes your feet in his hands and gently removes your slippers, removing your garments fully so they don’t pool around your ankles. He needs your legs spread and he needs them spread wide for what he’s about to do to you. 
Torso long enough to reach you, he remains on his knees. Runs his hands up the back of your thighs to guide you into the position he wants you in. “Lock your arms around the back of your knees. Don’t let go.”
You do as he says, biting your lips in nervousness. Intertwine your hands together. Prepare yourself to die. 
Namjoon studies your dewy pussy, index and middle finger mimicking the letter V as he slides them up and down your folds, squeezing just right to hear you mewling. Your knees being so close together makes her look a lot more pillowy and you hear Namjoon breathe hard, absolutely hypnotized by the beauty of your flesh. 
“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping down my hand.” He withdraws his fingers to show you how your slick trickles down the lines on his palm, changing the course of his life once and for all. 
Your clit throbs, breath matching his. “Please, Namjoon.”
He curses inaudibly. Brings his fingers back down to your folds, squeezes your lips and your clit together. Hisses at the sweet whimpery sounds spilling out of your mouth. Presses tighter so you whine needily for him. Takes you into his mouth when he accomplished what he wanted, tonguing your clit in slow agonizing circles that has you buckling your hips again. Puts his hands on your thighs to keep you down, flicking fast to absolutely abuse the fuck of you. Dragon eyes zeroing on yours, he gives you the hypnosis that your pussy did to him as he sucks on your bundle of nerves. You can’t even scream. Can’t breathe. The pleasure overwhelms you wholly and straps you down. There’s nothing you can do but take it. 
You come hard on his tongue. Namjoon laps it all up gladly. And when he’s finished, he stands up and slips those two digits that ruined you into your hole. Doesn’t move them. Lets you adjust instead.
“One more,” he mutters. “Please.”
You nod.
“Use your words or we’re stopping.”
You groan and close your eyes, your thighs visibly shaking in your iron grip from your orgasm. “Yes, Namjoon, one more. I’ll come for you.”
Namjoon places a wet kiss on your thigh to praise you, and to thank you as well. Begins to move his fingers promptly, but can’t seem to get enough of your skin. Proceeds to make it shiny with his liquid love, sucking it to bruise you. To remember this moment a little more fondly in the morning. 
Creating a trail up to the back of your knee, his digits pick up the speed. The pool of slick you left in his palm sloshes with each rapid thrust of his hand. He looks back at you and sees you lost in the pleasure, eyes lidded and unfocused. “Look at me.” 
You do, weakly.
“Just a little bit more and I’ll fuck you, all right?”
You’re about to nod, but decide against it. “Mhm, yes, Namjoon, fuck.” 
He smiles down at you. Your relief inches closer. “I’m so proud of you for speaking up today. For letting me know.” 
You could cry right now. Because of his fingers making you feel so good. Because of his kindness making you feel so safe. It all closes in on you and you whimper. 
Abruptly, Namjoon unravels your grip on your knees and kisses you, tongue slipping in. You come all over his hand, without meaning to, and he doesn’t stop. On the contrary, Namjoon fucks you harder. Takes all four of his fingers and strums your clit, prolonging your orgasm, swallowing down all of your moans. 
“Come on.”
Namjoon helps you down. If it weren’t for his arms holding you steady, you would’ve collapsed on the floor. Your legs shake, muscles taut and tense. 
“I got you.”
Sat on the floor with his joggers and boxers pulled beneath his crotch, he pulls you down on his lap. A wisp of precum adorns his tip and you wrap your hand around it, collecting it with your thumb. Watch him as you swirl your tongue around the digit before sucking on it, letting go with an obscene pop. Namjoon licks his lips, hands clasping your hips hard enough to bruise you. Twitches in your other hand.
“Don’t fucking do that to me, baby.” 
You laugh almost inaudibly, drunk on him. “Are you gonna come in me?” 
He replaces your hand, holding his length at the base for you to sink down. And you do, gasping softly at his thickness. Your dewiness helps it to be a smooth ride.
“Gonna pump you full. Leave you dripping,” he promises, voice restrained. “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll remember it for the rest of your life.” 
One thing about Namjoon, he’s a man of his word. 
Seated perfectly on him, he waits for you to adjust. Alleviates the tremble of your thighs with his palms, massaging the muscles. Takes off your shirt and flings it across the kitchen. Gropes your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You start to grind on him, throwing your head back. He latches onto your nipple and flicks the nub with his tongue. You lose your mind, leaking down his balls. 
“Ready?” he asks against the fullness of your breast. 
“Yeah, fuck me, Joon.” 
He thrusts into you once to watch you fall apart. Locks your arms behind your back. Grabs your forearms for his use.
“You forgot something.”
He thrusts again, harder this time.
“What?” you breathe out, meekly. 
“What word do you use when you want to ask for something?”
He watches you as you work it out in your brain. Fucks into you three more times, equally hard, to disrupt you. 
“Fuck, sorry. Please, Joon, please.”
He grinds, hips rotating in circles. 
“Uh-huh, that’s right. Now use it.” 
Namjoon envelops your tit in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your areola. Sucking. Keeping up the agonizing pace. Groaning when you clench down on him. 
“Please, hmph, fuck me.”
Your breast bounces back when he lets go, biting his lip. “Knew you could do it,” he coos. “Smart fucking girl.” 
He begins to fuck you properly. Thrusting up and down as he holds you steady, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As he takes control of your squirming, leaving his fingerprints on your forearms and waist. You’re breathless, whimpering, on the verge of sobbing. So turned on and needy for him that the emotions brim in you, threatening to spill over. 
“Aren’t you?” Namjoon continues. “Aren’t you a smart girl?” 
You nod, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “I’m a smart girl.” 
He spanks your ass to reward you and you arch your back. Tits all in his face. He’s mesmerized watching them bounce and nearly slap against each other, nubs hard and pointed. He licks them up, flicking them with his tongue. You round your shoulders a little in pleasure, his strong grip not letting you fold like your body wants. 
“That’s right. So smart and good for me. So fucking wet. Making me lose my mind.”
Namjoon kisses you. Inhales you. Withdraws only for a mere second before he’s back, tongue in, toying with you the way you like it. You feel your relief calling your name.
“Namjoon, I’m so fucking close. I’m so close. I’m gonna come,” you whine, forehead pressed against his, face twisted in ecstasy.
Namjoon stops out of the blue and slips out of you. You whine loudly, but before you know it, he carries you to the couch and lays you down on it. Takes off all of his clothes until only his silver chain remains, shining bright in the dim light. He spreads your legs, one limb over the backrest, the other around his thigh. Grips his length and tugs at it a few times, the feeling of your wetness making him slippery pulling moan after moan out of him. 
He enters you again and resumes his fast pace, holding your calf in his hand. “Smart girls come on the couch, not on the floor like whores. You got that?” 
You nod almost too eagerly, fucked out beyond measure. “Yes, Joon, please make me come. Please, come here.” 
Namjoon leans towards you, propping his elbows by your head, cradling you. “I’m here. I’m gonna make you come.” 
From this angle, he fucks you more deeply than before, his tip reaching your cervix. You roll your eyes back, but bring them right back to his face when his chain taps you on the chin. You find it so hot that you grind your hips against his, meeting his thrusts, encouraging him to fuck you harder. The chain meets you in erratic staccatos and you scratch your nails down his bare back, the sword-like pendant hurting you in a way that you like. 
Namjoon notices. Slows down his movements. Pinches the chain from the back of his neck. Prompts you to lift your head and slides it over, letting it rest in the middle of your breasts. Then fucks you back into the couch.  
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips. “Gonna breed you. Hm. You want that, don’t you?”
The cord tightens in your lower belly. The bulge of where his tip is hitting you nudges him in his stomach and he looks down. Curses. 
“Look.” 
You follow his eyes and moan. “Namjoon, Namjoon, please come in me. I’m so close. Wanna feel you. Please.” 
He grunts, nodding his head. Licks his fingertips and presses them against your clit. Pleasures you in fast and swift jerks until you’re knocking your head back. Only when he grabs your jaw and kisses you does the cord snap, his lips being your ultimate undoing. 
Namjoon presses you down with his body, keeps you calm and collected. Kisses you all through it, your jaw, your neck, your cheeks. Then his thrusts turn sloppy and his cock twitches in you. He gives you one final hard thrusts and fills you up, groaning against your mouth.
You’re smoothing down the sting of your scratches on his back when he pulls out of you and his cum drips out of you. You wish you could see what he sees, hand on his mouth, careful to catch his drool. You push out more for him and he curses, fondling your pussy with his thumb before he pumps it back in. 
He comes back to you and kisses you. Fixes your hair. Caresses your cheek. Helps you stand on your feet as he leads you into the shower. Washes every inch of your body, heedful of the bruises he left on the back of your thigh. Lathers your hair in your favorite shampoo. Wraps you in a towel. Wanted to moisturize your body, but you told him off, knowing both of you would get horny again. You let him brush your hair, though, placing a comb in his hand. He’s gentle as he undoes the knots, then he blowdries your hair. 
And you do the same for him.
Once the pillow touches your cheeks, you’re both out like a light. 
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evie-sturns · 3 months
Text
period - 𝗖𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀 𝗦𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗼𝗹𝗼
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summary: you unexpectedly get your period after spending the night with chris, he does everything he can to make you feel better.
contains: mentions of blood, fluff, crying, swearing.
----------------┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐------------———
chris and i have been dating for almost two months, i sleep over at his house often though, including last night.
9:46am
i'm rudely awakened by frantic tapping on my shoulder, i rub my eyes and roll over where i'm met with chris's distraught face. "hm..?" i groan out.
"y/n, are you okay" chris rambles, his vision flicks between my eyes and the matress.
"what..?" i mumble, my vision is still partially blurred from the sudden wake up.
"you're bleeding" chris says quietly, swallowing harshly.
i sit up, the matress is dotted with blood, along with the small pyjama set i wore last night.
my period has always been irregular, ever since i was about 12. i'd never know when it would come but i would just deal with it when it did.
my stomach sinks, my cheeks instantly flush from embarrassment, this is the kind of thing thats meant to happen 2 years into your relationship, not 2 months.
my eyes start to burn, im already an emotional person but now that this has just happened i don't think i can physically be okay.
"im so sorry chris." i say, my voice breaking.
chris clears his throat, i can tell he's slightly awkward about this.
the silence in the room grows, but is quickly cut short by a sob coming from me. chris's head snaps round to look at me, "oh fuck-.. no its okay!"
he gets out of bed, without a second thought he leans over the matress and picks me up in a bridal position. he speed walks to the bathroom, "look at me." chris says calmly as i cry into his shoulder, i tilt my head up and lock eyes with him. "don't cry sweetheart, it doesn't matter to me."
i nod with a sniffle, he places me down on two feet. "you wanna get in the bath?" chris says gently.
"yeah.." i say, my voice still wobbling.
i stand still with my hands by my side vulnerably. "you want me to.." chris whispers, keeping his eyes locked on mine. "if you dont mind.." i reply.
he reaches his hand out and peels my tank top off of my body, along with my shorts. he does it so nonchalantly its impressive.
chris has only seen me naked once, which was only a week or so ago after our first hookup.
he flicks the bath on, putting his finger under the stream to check the temperature before lifting me up and placing me down.
chris bends over and picks up the pyjamas, before leaving the bathroom, closing the door behind him. i throw my head back as soon as he goes "how did this happen." i groan to myself.
-
about 10 minutes has passed, the whole time i've just been trying to calm myself, crying about this isn't gonna make it any less embarrassing for me.
my head snaps to the side as i hear 2 soft knocks on the wooden door, "come in" i say with a forced smile, chris peeks his head round the corner with a sympathetic look. hes got a freshly folded pair of sweatpants and a hoodie in his arms, which he places down on the sink. "you okay?" he asks casually, sitting down on the side of the tub.
"i mean, i'm okay as i can be right now!" i smile warmly up at chris,
he reaches into his pocket and clears his throat "i found this downstairs, i think one of nick's friends left it here-..uh" chris murmmers, pulling a tampon out of his pocket.
"thank you chris, honestly i'm sorry about being a pain." i sigh, chris shakes his head "no you're good, promise."
"just gonna go make the bed, yeah?" chris sits up off the tub and walks out of the bathroom.
-
after getting myself together i open the door to the bedroom, chris is sitting on the bed, laying the pillows out strategically. i feel like a kid thats just thrown up, staring at my parent who just had to bathe me and clean the sheets.
he stands up and runs over to me full force, grabbing me around my waist and picking me up, earning a high pitched squeal from me. "chris!!" i screech as he flops down on the bed with me still in his arms.
"what can i actually do to repay you." i whisper into chris's chest.
"give me some awesome head next week."
"christopher."
----------------┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐------------———
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avtrbee · 8 months
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safe
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✢ summary: just like everyone else, sometimes megumi just wants his mom.
✢ tags: mentions of the death of a pet, implied satoru x reader
✢ a/n: my friend has psychoanalyzed me with a diagnosis of mommy issues and i have always denied them. then i caught myself reflecting on what type of fanfics i write. especially this one.
Ever since Megumi had started school in Tokyo, he was barely home. Of course, he comes home every now and then, and living within the school's dormitories is part of the high school experience- hell, even you stayed in the school when you were a student- but the house is quiet without him, too quiet, which is probably why he does not go home as often as you'd like- that, among other things.
Everyone in your household knew that Tsumiki was what made your house into a home. Your girl always greeted you with a smile and volunteered to make hot meals for the family when you and Satoru didn't feel like cooking. She was warmth, she was energy, she was life. Until she wasn't.
The house became cold without its fire. You couldn't blame Megumi for wanting an escape from the halls that still echo her memory. Which was why you were surprised to see him sitting on the couch with his arms resting on his thighs, hands buried in his face.
"Megumi?" You call. "I didn't hear you come in."
His head lifts up and looks at you. "Liar," he accuses. "You can sense my cursed energy miles away. You knew I was coming home as soon as you felt it ."
His words were harsh but his tone was not off of his usual deadpan manner of speaking. You can't help but smile. He is still the same child who refused to sleep unless he clung to his divine dogs, Tsumiki, you, or Satoru (reluctantly, of course) in some way. He claimed it was for "warmth."
But he knows you as much as you know him. As he made his way to the house, you noticed something- his cursed energy was off. It was more powerful than usual. Of course, it could be a good thing- perhaps he was doing really well in school, but his downcast eyes and even broodier vibe are telling you otherwise. "What's wrong?"
Megumi leans back on the couch, sighs, and contemplates. He stares at your wall that is decorated with framed pictures and pictures you memories from his childhood. You've even framed pictures of his drawings- usually doodles of his shikigami.
He stands abruptly. "Never mind," he dismisses. "I don't wanna- I don't want to talk about it. It's childish and stupid-"
"Stupid enough to make you retreat back home?" You ask. You watch as your question sinks in through Megumi. Slowly, he sits back down. You sit on the other end of the couch.
"What's wrong, 'Gumi?" You ask again. "Tell me." I can fix it. Whatever it is, if I can fix it, I will shouts your inner thoughts.
"I lost one of them," Megumi whispers.
“Oh, Megumi, I-” you say, racking your brain for something to say. Deaths in the jujutsu world is so common that when you’re within the industry for too long you get used to it. “Losing a colleague- this won’t be the first time, baby. Nor will it be the last.”
“No,” Megumi groans out frustrated. There are tears streaming down his cheeks that he angrily wipes away. “My dogs. I lost one. I- Yuki died.”
Your heart breaks at Megumi’s childhood name for his white demon dog. “‘Gumi, I’m so sorry-”
You move to his side of the couch, wide arms open. Megumi falls in, just like he did when he was small. Megumi feels himself melt in your hold, his walls and defenses crumbling away like ash.
Megumi refuses to cry at all times but when you have his arms wrapped around him he finds himself not caring at all. It was like his heart recognized you too.
He buries his head in the crook of your neck and you pretend not to feel his tears.
You hold him until he lets you. Megumi is the one to pull away, and you never do. This boy js fickle with touch, and you always leave the duration of your hugs to his discretion.
You cup his face in your hands, thumbs swiping away the tear tracks. You’ve never seen Megumi this heartbroken before.
“I told him to scout the area and I just left him for a second- and he-” Megumi hiccups. “His head was on the wall. The curse threw his head so hard it made the pavement crack.”
You do not pretend to know his pain for you will never feel it. Megumi’s divine dogs were his first achievement. He smiled the first time he summoned them, even as Satoru threw him in the air in joy. Those dogs would trail after him in the house, obeying his command. You would turn a blind eye to the spare pieces of meat Megumi throws under the table just so they could taste cooked beef.
Megumi would refuse to let them go even when he slept, and was upset that they would disappear when he rested or lowered his guard. As a present, Satoru gifted him customized stuffed animals of the dogs that he never slept without. You were sure he packed those toys with him in the dorm.
When Tsumiki volunteers to run errands, Megumi would summon a dog and follow her. Just in case. They both always came back safe.
“He just did what I commanded, he was good, he was a good boy.” Megumi said, in a quieter voice.
“The best,” you agreed. “But didn’t Yuki merge with the other one? Isn’t that how your technique works when one of them dies?”
“It’s stupid-” A glare from you was all it took. “It’s not the same,” he admits. “I just want my dogs back.”
You give him a sad smile. You pull him close for another hug, and he melts in your arms once again but this time, he does not pull away. You hold him until his tears have dried, until his breaths slowed down, and until his eyes closed for a well deserved rest.
extra note: yuki apparently means snow in japanese. get it? snow=white demon dog (im not creative at all yall)
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redr0sewrites · 2 months
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One thing I can't help but feel a Sub!Vox would unexpectedly enjoy is getting reminded/teased about the fact he has a safe word he can use.
Like, beyond just the safe, practical etiquette of double checking and making sure everything's still okay, in the scenario that he absolutely is still okay: You got him so worked up, overstimulated, repeatedly sobbing out "I can't"s, only to have you sweetly cut in with a sweet "Do you need to use the safe word~?" (Or any other possible non-verbal "STOP" sign that got agreed upon), and having that answer be "No."
Him getting faced with the fact that he can so, so, so easily have anything that's happening to him stop, should he so wish it, and yet, despite all his whining and begging and crying, he's actively choosing not to have it stop.
Him just getting so flustered by that paradox of him being reminded that he's in complete control over having no control~
YESSSSSS AUGHGHH I NEED TO PAMPER HIM‼️
🥀Cw: smut, sub!vox, safeword mentioned, overstim, not proofread bc i am both sick and tired im so sorry
🥀minors dni
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once vox is in subspace, he really is a mess- drooling, moaning, whimpering, clawing at the sheets, and most obviously, crying
to most people this would give the impression that he wants to stop, but in reality, vox very very rarely uses the safeword but fuuuck it is SUCH a turn on for him that the opportunity is there
we all know he has a power kink, and he's so obviously in a submissive position during sex, but the fact that you're the one allowing him to stop if he needs to? it gets to his head
it also opens the door to his humiliation kink, bc nothing turns him on more than being humiliated. the fact that he could so, so easily quit, just walk out and be out of the embarrassing, submissive position he's in but instead he finds himself wanting to be wrecked- more than wrecked, downright ruined by you when he could so easily walk away. the entire situation is exhilarating and arousing to him
he also adores it when you use it mockingly, if you start cooing "aww, poor baby, do y'need to tap out already? gonna use the safeword sweetie?" he's already babbling, pleading with you to keep going, how he's being suuuuch a good boy! and then? well, he's rambling on and on about how he can't stop yet, how he needs to cum! how could you deny him?
vox takes punishments well, but will brat out the whole time, whimpering and whining about how he can't take it. however, the second you threaten to stop, or offer the safeword? he's putty in your hands, drooling and clawing at the sheets, practically begging you to keep going. its the quickest way to get him to completely submit to you without even another word!
vox isn't used to relinquishing control in general, so the power dynamics proposed by the safeword honestly make him trust you even more. even outside of the bedroom, it flusters him when you ask before touching him or when you ask about sex instead of just initiating.
when it comes to softer sex, vox also likes to be reminded of the safeword! sometimes he's just so stressed out that he just wants to be pampered, but he reaches a point where his mind gets so fuzzy he just can't stop :( he's mewling and whining as you ride him, tears streaming down his screen as you praise him, and he doesn't realize how far gone he is until you gently remind him he can tap out whenever he needs to. vox will nod, eyes watery and face flushed, and soon he becomes more aware of just how sleepy he is. he always makes sure you both cum one more time before tapping out, but i can also see him having a bit of a somnophilia kink, so he would probably consent to letting you fuck him in his sleep, with the promise of the safeword still being valid
i mentioned this before in the dry humping hcs, but sometimes, vox will get so needy and horny that he just can't stop, so the reminder of the safeword is often very useful when he's too far gone to communicate but is like 2 seconds away from passing out. but sometimes he likes to be pushed to the edge too, so he won't always use the safeword but gets off on the fact that the option is there
also tiny additional hc, i think he would like to use a meaningful word for a safeword. maybe something related to technology, like radio or something, or possibly electric. like if he started saying electric, it would mean he wanted to stop. or i think he would use a color system, you would ask him what color and he'd say red green or yellow depending on how into it he is or how he's feeling etc etc. either way he wants it to be meaningful and not just some random word- like he wants a sentimental reasoning behind whatever word you choose (feel free to comment safeword ideas so i can use them in future fics 👹)
vox lets out a wanton moan, glitching and panting as he humps your thigh like a dog in heat. he's writhing under your touch, unsure of where to put his hands when all he can focus on is the pressure against his painfully hard cock. its sinful the way he drags his hips, mewling deliriously as he creams in his pants for what feels like the hundreth time, and yet his pace doesn't falter as he ruts against you. he's a panting mess and barely coherent and he babbles, whimpering your name over and over. "fuc- zzz -k, 'm so- ple-zzz-" vox gasps, thighs shaking as you wrap your arms around his neck. his cock throbs when you make eye contact with him and his thighs squeeze around yours. a stain darkens the front of his pants, leftover from his previous release in his dazed rut. "vox," you coo, rubbing the ports on the back of his screen as he struggles to remain coherent enough to focus on your words. "vox, baby, do you need the safeword?" your voice is sickeningly sweet, laced with concern and lust.
vox paused at the thought, dread seeping into his body as he let out a pathetic whine. "nno, 'm fine," he slurred, rolling his hips against your thigh. "m not even tired," he mewls deliriously, and you nod, taking notice of his drooping eyelids and slowing movements. "okay sweetie, only one more round though, okay?" vox nods, tears streaming down his screen as his claws dig into the plush of your hips. you steady him, and you move your leg, assisting him in grinding against you as you shake your thigh. vox whimpers, static lacing his voice as he glitches out entirely. repeating your name like a prayer, his body tenses as he cums fast and hard, soaking his pants yet again. vox collapses against you, breathing ragged as he struggled to keep his eyelids from drooping. "you okay, baby?" you purr, and he nods, slumping deeper into your touch. "lets get you cleaned up, hm?"
UWRGJREHHEHEHEHE I AM ALWAYS IN THE MOOD FOR SUB VOX!!!!!!!!!! i love the idea of being soft w him sm- i genuinely have not written enough sfw stuff for vox so if anyone has anything fluffy to say ab him PLEASE come into my inbox. ALSO IF ANYONE HAS ANYTHING LUTE RELATED TO SAY ESPECIALLY/INCLUDING SMUT ALSO PLS COME INTO MY INVOX BC RUEGRHRGRHGR THEYRE BOTH MY FAVS RN
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spitdrunken · 4 months
Text
Vox x Reader Relationship Headcanons
This post contains SPOILERS in the sense that it is based off of the version of Vox as presented in episode 2. None of the actual plot points featured within are discussed. notes: background vox x valentino / polyamory (reader only dates vox), extremely unhealthy relationships, stalking, manipulation, hypnosis, power imbalance. kidnapping + physical abuse mention (neither done by vox)
To catch the eye of a demon as powerful as Vox is not an ideal situation. While he could be considered more levelheaded than your average demon, and certainly is when compared to his associates, he still has things that rile him up like no other. No, he doesn’t have a whole string of sexual partners to use and abuse like Valentino does, but that makes the weight of his gaze all the more crushing when it does fall upon someone.
Once you’ve got his interest, it’s practically impossible to slip away from him. He’s got vantage points all across the Pride Ring, being able to slip in and out of its many scattered screens with ease. While the usual tracking Vox Media subjects its customers to is already an invasion of privacy, yours would be on a whole other level.
With how inescapable his company is amongst Sinner demons, it’s more than likely you’ve at least got some kind of device he’d be able to peer into. As soon as your phone is being plugged into a port, he’d be skimming through your messages and search history. Though your face-to-face meetings might have been minimal or non-existent at this point, he would already know far more about you than most of your friends. …You should really clear out your search history more often. But, hey, he’s not unhappy about it! There’s no traces of his presence as soon as he’s done.
Vox cares a great deal about his reputation and image. Not only because he’s the very face of a high-earning brand, but it is also simply the kind of person he is. Whereas someone like Valentino might have gone right ahead and shot any possible partner in the head, Vox is much more careful than that. What would people think, if he simply went around and started electrocuting a bunch of unknowns to death? No, that’s just not his way of doing things whatsoever.
Even besides that, there’s also much more satisfaction in it, to him, to convince you to leave them and join him, of your own accord. Vox has always been the brain behind all operations, the meticulous and thoughtful one, the one who got investors on board and appeared in interviews. In other words, he’s become quite good with words, and can easily come off as charming whenever he so wishes. That is exactly the way he will present himself to you, at least at first: a demon unlike other demons, practically a gentleman.
You wouldn’t have known him from his early days, the time where he still made mistakes, and nobody knew his name. When he invites you over for dinner (through an email that you’re convinced is fake spam, the first couple of times you receive it), he wants to appear nothing but infallible and powerful to you. You, who is only familiar with him through screens, as a flawless news presenter, gameshow host, and much more. A smile would never leave his screen, and he is constantly courteous.
He’s got a couple of expensive gifts at the ready as well, ones that hail from his own company. Perhaps it’s the newest iteration in his own line of phones, or a brand-new kind of security system. He’ll wave off any kind of dismissal of his gift, telling to just take it, you don’t even know how many of those he has lying around! Trust him. (In fact, they are modified to grant him even more easy access into your life. A constant stream of information directed at him, with Vox never even having to enter your device anymore.)
In a place like the Pride Ring in Hell, existence is demeaning at best, and utterly miserable at worst, for the average demon. Vox is more than aware of this and, at first, doesn’t even try his absolute best to sweep you off your feet. The power and the safety net someone such as himself would provide would be more than enough for most people. For the average demon, time spent by his side would be a vast improvement, and no one can deny that.
And, in this case, he is most likely interested in someone with far less power than him: you. Whether actively aware of it or not, and if he was, he’d never admit it, a part of Vox desires to be with someone from whom affection comes more easily. And that is… Not Valentino. Not that he’d ever separate from him, mind you, you’d simply be the antithesis to him. If you aren’t, he’ll make you something closer to that.
One of the largest drawbacks that immediately becomes noticeable, is the political target spending time around Vox makes you. Whether he purposefully makes the two of you appear in Hell’s largest tabloid, or only goes someplace where the two of you are sure to be spotted, you’ll surely become a demon worthy of kidnapping after this. It is exactly this, and the fear that comes along with it, that Vox would weaponize against you.
Wouldn’t it be much better, and safer, to stay in one of the company’s buildings? You’re bound to get kidnapped anywhere else, you know. He’s just looking out for you! Really though, he’d never let something like that happened to you. Not only because such an occurence would cause his reputation to take a great hit, but also because he cares! The praises he heaps on top of you are never outright lies, though some are perhaps exaggerated. He wouldn’t spend so much time on a demon he wasn’t genuinely interested in.
Vox, to the vast majority of people, would come on too strong, and too fast. The kind of attention that comes from someone who hasn’t been denied anything in a long time. At the same time, underneath his collected demeanor, seen in his stalking and meticulous collection of information, there is something that could be seen as a glimmer of desperation.
One might stop and think that, if he truly were as capable and faultless as he makes himself out to be, why would he go through all of this trouble? Wouldn’t simply being himself, or something rather close to it, be enough? This is truly where the heart of the issue, his deeply-hidden insecurity, shines through. Besides just the way the thought of being rejected by you upsets him, as well as he tries to hide it, he can’t simply back out, now that he’s spent so much time around you. He’d never live it down.
If, for some reason, ‘diplomacy’ and his usual wooing doesn’t work… He’s an Overlord for a reason. He still has plenty of tricks left up his sleeve. He can manipulate any digital image he wants, including video, without ever touching editing software. Vox can show you the people closest to you saying outright brutal things about you, with their exact mannerisms and voice. All data gathered through the various devices of his he owns, then capable of creating replicas. In a limited way, he can bend reality to his will.
If even that doesn’t work, he has his powers of hypnosis as a last resort. In this case, he doesn’t like having to use them, would have preferred the satisfaction over getting you to fawn over him all on your own… But it’s just so much easier to plant a little trigger inside your brain. For him to snap his fingers, and have you become more agreeable. Your thoughts growing that tiniest bit hazier, your head the slightest bit heavier.
All you have to do is look into his eyes, and take a deep breath… That’s better, isn’t it? What were you even getting so upset about before, huh? (And again, hypnosis is a last resort here. He’s spent so many years dealing with Valentino’s temper tantrums that he’s an expert at diffusing any kind of argument, and nothing surprises anymore.)
Vox wouldn’t be likely to physically hurt you at all. He sees himself as being capable of more self-control than that, even when in the throes of jealousy. Really, the one you should be most afraid of during this entire ordeal is Valentino. While their relationship is by no means monogamous, and it never will be, he’s still used to being the center of attention. He uses violence and unpredictability to have Vox, largely, at his every beck and call. While Vox isn’t used to having denied things, Valentino’s is many times worse about it.
Initially, he ignores you. Designating you as some kind of fling, not even worthy of being one of his whores, soon ready to be forgotten. Vox doesn’t do those kinds of things all that often but, hey, anything’s bound to happen with an eternity of time to kill, right? It’s only when you become a more permanent fixture in their life that he really becomes more of a threat.
He’ll let his temper cut loose, specifically during times where the two of you are spending time together, causing mayhem around the company. If Vox’s attention is entirely unwanted, this may even be a welcome reprieve for you. Still, Valentino being jealous of you should be about the last thing you want. Frankly, it makes you liable to get shot on a bad day, or because of a poorly worded comment.
…Perhaps it would be better to stay close to Vox, then.
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anundyingfidelity · 3 months
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BLOOD, SWEAT & TEARS — Billy Butcher, Soldier Boy
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Summary: A normal night where Butcher and his new pal, Soldier Boy, fuck just their stress out with a new toy, you.
Pairing: Billy Butcher x female reader x Soldier Boy
Word count: 1.5k.
Warnings: porn without plot, dom!butcher, dom!ben, one thought of dub-con but not really, double penetration, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, unsafe sex (creampie and switching holes basically don't do it, this is just porn), squirting, dirty talk, blowjobs, facial, degradation (usage of whore, slut, etc.), cumplay, some dacryphilia, choking, hair pulling, blood, mentions of violence, Ben and Butcher being kinda jerks, normal misogyny coming from SB, some ego competition, hints to aftercare.
Notes: You already know english is not my main language, not betad and barely revised, lol sorry for the mistakes in here. The amount of horniness I have for these two I swear is not fucking normal. Normally I'd apologize for writing this, but I'm ovulating.
the boys/jackles tags: @k-slla
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
GEN MASTERLIST!
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A pair of rough hands held your legs open. Your empty pussy was throbing as Butcher knelt between your thighs rubbing the tip of his cock against your cunt.
You gasped, the man behind you spreading you further for his new team mate to get better access while he fucked your ass senseless. His cock reaching all the right spots. You moaned loudly, almost screaming when Butcher finally pushed inside you. Soldier Boy never seemed to cease his insane thrusts from behind.
"Luv, you're so fucking tight," Butcher grinned, your walls engulfing him perfectly.
They both soon set up a rhythm, one pushing in while the other almost slide out of your hole. Each stroke of their massive cocks inside you exploded something you never felt before. It was a new kind of spark eliciting from the deepest places, and you wanted to come undone there, over and over, forever, between their strong bodies.
"Oh, fuck! Yes right there, god!" you growled, screamed, and cried out incoherences as the two men continued fucking you to bliss.
A layer of sweat covered your skin and you rolled your eyes back, the familiar knot on your belly building up yet again. You didn't have an idea of how much time had passed since you arrived back to the dirty motel. All three of you arrived covered in blood, dirt and the weight of murder, and you still let them take you and you welcomed them the same way. You let them have fun with you however they pleased.
The last thing you remembered from that night was coming back from a mission. Your aching body begging for a shower and good sleep, but Butcher and the new supe found other ways to take their own stress out. You doubted at first. Of course you didn't know it could feel this good. They left bite marks all over your neck, nipped your tits, spanked your thighs open for their mouths to devour you while the other fucked your throat until tears streamed down your cheeks.
They continued bruising and marking your skin. Like a canvas, they left their prints, covering your flesh with different colors all over and used your mouth and pussy as they fucking wanted, granting access to the other, spreading your legs, manhandling you all over the disgusting, shitty room. Then Soldier Boy had the idea of using your ass, just for him, and at first, you were fucking scared. It was all too much. But once he had you ready and stretched enough with his fingers, you quickly fell for his rough touch and his dick, which was as huge as his ego. He was fucking addictive. Both were, in fact, fucking you amazingly hard.
One of Ben's hand wrapped around your neck, climax reaching its peak as Butcher rubbed your clit with his thumb. Your walls clenched around both of them and the vulgar sound of your pussy filled the place along with their skin hitting yours.
"Little slut, gonna cum for us?" Ben said, voice full of lust, pressing your back against his bare chest. You clenched again, his dark chuckle enhanced heaven down your cunt.
Wetness increased between your legs, and you moaned. Louder than ever. The whole place might already know what was happening in the room, but neither Ben or Billy made you shut up. In fact, they wanted you to scream your lungs out.
"Oh, she's definitely gonna cum," Butcher followed, a smirk on his lips. "C'mon sweetheart, don't be shy. Give us one more."
"I-I feel like- fuck!" with a loud cry you squirted all over them, their dicks sliding out of your holes. Shit, that was the harderst you came for the night.
Immediately you tried to close your shaky legs, but Butcher's hands held you in place, pussy clenching around nothing as your fluids coated their hard lenghts and thighs.
"Fucking hell. I'm gonna break you, sugar," Ben hissed, taking your legs and fixing your position on top of him, sliding you down his dick, but this time he claimed your pussy, pistoning in and out of you without any mercy. Even if your body still trembled and you were so fucking overstimulated. You moaned.
Butcher tskd as he watched you, tears streaming down your face and lost in pleassure. "That was mine, pal."
"Yeah, I don't give a fuck- Jesus, she's fucking tight!" Ben hoarsed.
He didn't care about Butcher, he just wanted to fuck you until you passed out and his name was the only thing on your mind.
You whimpered softly. "Please, please," you were getting there again, under the brunette man's dark eyes as the soldier fucked you insane.
But before you reached that sweet peak again, Ben pulled out of you. His strenght forced you to bend over the matress on your hands and knees, Butcher positioned himself right in front of your face. It was so fast and they moved quickly, like a dance already choreographed between them to take advantage of all you got to give.
"Open wide, baby" Butcher ordered. You complied happily, letting his cock touch the back of your throat smoothly.
Ben's rough hands gripped your hips, down your ass, giving a spank on one of your cheeks, making you jump slightly. He grabbed your ass cheeks spreading them to expose your hole, the tip of his cock teased your ass until he slid in a swift motion. You whimpered with your mouth stuffed. He filled you up perfectly and you fucking loved it.
"Such a good cumslut, taking my cock so fucking well," Ben praised, voice husky. He roughly gripped your hair, forcing yourself down more around Butcher's shaft. You gagged, he smirked. "Might just keep you around as my little, personal fuckdoll."
"Fuck- easy there, mate," Butcher warned, as you worked your tongue and lips on his cock as much as you could. "We have another deal, remember?"
Ben smirked cockily at him as you clenched around his cock. You let out a moan muffled by Butcher fucking your mouth. Both their thrusts harder than ever. "Still, I don't give a shit."
Ben's gaze admired you, hands on your hips, as he watched himself shoving into your hole. "You're gonna fucking cum again, you dirty little bitch," he ordered.
"Mmm..." You nodded as best as you could with the twitching cock on your mouth.
Butcher suddenly pulled out of your mouth, a string of saliva leaked down your lips to the tip of his cock. He kept your head in place as much as he could and jerked himself off with his other hand. He came with a hard groan all over your pretty face. His white seed painted your cheeks, lips and your tongue sticking out as you shut your eyes.
"Bloody hell, don't you look ravishing," Butcher whispered darkly. His thumb collected his cum, now mixed with your tears and a small stain of dry blood on your face. He dragged it to your lips so you could taste it. Your plump lips closed around his finger with a moan.
"Insatiable slut, just how I like them," Ben hissed, pulling out of your asshole, making you whimper. "Now, I'm gonna cum inside this pretty little pussy."
He rubbed the tip of his dick on your slit and entered slowly. You felt every inch stretching you out and he slammed into you brutally, he was so fucking close. You could feel it. It surprised you how much they actually endured, their stamina was endless and you lost count of how many times they made you cum already. And yet, you felt that precious sensation anew, soft walls clenching repeatedly around him.
"C'mon whore," Ben gripped on your hair, pulling your back against his muscular chest, taking both your wrists with his other hand. "Cum around my cock."
Your cunt pulsed, he grunted. And you came, again, with shaky legs, shaky breath and the sight of a naked Butcher, who already had taken a seat on the couch in front of the bed. Your orgasm triggered Ben's, and he filled you up completely. You cried out when his fingers found your clit, the grip on your hair long gone now. He continued fucking his cum inside you, balls deep, until he started to soften inside you. His thrusts slowed down little by little.
Ben finally pulled out, letting go of your wrists and you collapsed on your hands and knees on the mattress. He spread out your pussy with his fingers and admired his white cum dripping out of you.
"Well, that was a fucking ride," he smiled. His middle finger wiped his seed and forced it back inside your pulsing cunt. "Fuck, where do you find these kind of women?"
Butcher shrugged. "I have my contacts."
"I'm still here, y'know," you breathed out, rolling on your back.
Ben hovered over your tired figure. Messy hair, cheeks stained with Butcher's cum, teary eyes, and some dry blood spots decorated your face. They did break you and put you back into pieces. He was damn proud of that. He leaned down and sucked into the skin of your neck. You moaned, your fingers tangled on his scalp as his lips carressed your neck, his beard burning on your soft skin.
"Ben, I'm tired," you said, and he stopped his kisses. He shared a suspicious look with Butcher and then locked his lustful green eyes with yours.
The supe winked at you. "Later, doll."
You rolled your eyes and heard Butcher standing up.
"Gonna prepare you a bath, luv," he said as he disappeared inside the bathroom. "Have to take good care of ya."
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thisismeracing · 3 months
Text
The one | CS55
― Pairing: Carlos Sainz x fem!reader (she/her) ― Warnings: mentions of break up and food; typos. ― Summary: Yn is doing well a few months after her break up with Carlos, and so is he. Everyone thinks that this paragraph of their lives is over, but as it happens they may be a chapter to each other, and Yn makes sure everyone knows he was her great love, the one - through her new song. ― A/n: None of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps, but the work is, and I do not allow it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛
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▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee
February, 2023
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February, 2024
realyn
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liked by charles_leclerc, sza, and others
realyn "The One" has just come out on all streaming platforms. I hope this piece of my heart reaches yours. Tune in and dive into the feels 💐🤍
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saintsainz "for old time's sake" HELLO?????
ynsummer omg another bop!!! I wish I could write songs when I'm sad, the few breakups I had I could only cry and try not to choke on my own phlegm
⤷ fan2000 ewwww LOL
hammert1m3 charles on the likes 👀
leclowns1655 in my head they're not over yet
⤷ mercmickey you need therapy, bestie
lewishamilton great music as usual 💜
francisca.cgomes 😍😍
szadirection I love how the grid's still here supporting here even a year after she and carlos broke up 🥺
popyn WE WERE SOMETHING DON'T YOU THINK SOOO ROSÉ FLOWING WITH YOUR CHOSEN FAMILY 🎤🎤🎤🎤
ferraristrangers I have so many theories for the lyrics and the cover and kksjksdj aaaaaaaa
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Old posts
March, 2018
realyn
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liked by lewishamilton, ynfan, and others
realyn eat pasta, run fasta, they said 😋😂
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bieberf1 they my new fav couple now 💋
raintyresainz thank you for feeding us that last carlos pic
hurricaneyn welp now I wanna eat pasta but its like the middle of the night
⤷ alonsochamp eat pasta, sleep fasta 😙😂
carlossainz55 ❤️❤️
amarelorenault her glasses are so cool!!!!! her style is always on point
carlossainz55
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carlossainz55 we tried homemade, it worked 😋
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realyn we didn't run fasta this time though :(
⤷ carlossainz55 there wasn't any race this Sunday, cariño
⤷ realyn shhhh, let me be funny
harrystylistee I want what they have!
April, 2018
realyn
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realyn enjoyed April with my fav spaniard, wrote a few songs for you guys - new album dropping soon!!!!! 🥳
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aussiegrid howd you like Australia, Yn?
⤷ realyn I loved it, def gonna come back soon 🥰
ynfan 💙💙💙💙💙💙
carlosfullname1 where’s your jacket from?
⤷ realyn website.com 😘
fab2000 can’t wait for the new song and espec the new album!!!!!
July, 2018
carlossainz55
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carlossainz55 Yn's new album "I used to know her" is out now and you guys should run to listen to it 💙💙 she did an amazing job as usual. I'm very proud of you, cariño @ realyn
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lewishamilton congrats, Yn!
hulkhulkenberg everyone here loved the new album, well done, Yn!
renaultf1team its our garage soundtrack 😎💛
March, 2019
realyn
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realyn the past few months wearing papaya have been amazing! 🧡 and yes, last concert clothes were orange bc of the team
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landonorris looks like the concert clothes gave us some luck, make sure to wear orange again next time!
⤷ realyn I love you guys but I can't be wearing orange all the time
⤷ yourmanager yes, you can
⤷ realyn shut up, I'm gonna fire your ass
⤷ yourmanager no, you won't
⤷ carlossainz55 jajajaja
tifosinha I love how lando looks like their kid 😂
spaincarlos_ not yn and carlos adopting lando lol
ynfan4 her music taste is *chef kiss* 🤌🏾
ynandsainz yn, your album still on repeat on my apple music!
mclaren 🧡🧡
December, 2019
carlossainz55
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carlossainz55 ¡Feliz Navidad! 🎄❤️
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saturnracer FELIZ NAVIDAD TAN TAN TAN PROSPERO AÑO Y FELICIDAD 🎤
szalover 😭😍 its the way she loves pasta
⤷ cowboyvettel @ realyn pasta or carlos? choose one
⤷ realyn carlos cooking pasta 😙😋😜
July, 2020
realyn
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realyn compilation of some of the flowers Carlos gave me and pics he took 💖 Te amo, cariño 💐🌷🌹🌸🌺🌼🌻
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fonedirection God I see what youve done for others
carlossainz55 you’re my favorite flower, love 🌸💖
⤷ fernandoalo_official you guys know how to be sicklengly cute huh 🙄
piastripastry see? carlos gets flowers regularly to yn and yall out there crying over an ugly ass man who gives you the bare minimum 🫵
March, 2021
realyn
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realyn new character unlocked hehe ❤️💛🏎️
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ynfrance We want a new album, queen!!! save us!
swiftverstappen the way they went through everything togerher 🤧
⤷ russellsainz I want what they have
monegasque16 another day another yn post to make me cry in single and alone
carlossainz55 thank you for the endless support, cariño 💛 you’re my everything
tifosisunshine you’re 😭 my 😭 everything 😭
August, 2022
carlossainz55
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carlossainz55 my kind of free-weekends 🩵
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sunnyyn yn looks so good 😍😍
yourbestie ❤️ aweee
realyn te amo! 😘
January, 2023
realyn
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realyn happy new year 🙃
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charlsmonaco where's carlos? 😟
mylightyn I don't like this vibe…
ynwardrobe what is she reading?
lewishamilton 💙
⤷ mclatinha lew do you happen to know something we don’t?
carlossainz55
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carlossainz55 ¡Feliz Año Nuevo! 🎉
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brocedes2010 where's Yn??????
schumini_ at least they seem to be on the same place 🙏🏾🙏🏾
redsainz he looks so good it hurts
back to 2024 💬📩
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────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I hope you guys liked this piece! I'm set on publishing my drafts but I need time to work on them, this one was saved for a while now, and it's finally here heheh let me know your thoughts!
If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘
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yandere-daydreams · 10 months
Text
Title: Scorched Earth.
A Grab Bag For A Very Lovely Anonymous Commissioner.
Pairing: Yandere!Warrior x Reader.
Word Count: 1.3k.
TW: Unhealthy Relationships, Mentions of War/Death, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, and Kidnapping.
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You saw the torchlight hours before he reached your cottage.
Bright and brilliant, a red stain ebbing through the trees and bleeding into the dark sky. The forest was dense, the canopy stifling, yet somehow, the light he and his soldiers carried was awful enough to pierce through it all, to burn away every behind them and fill the open air with thick, choking smoke. You could’ve tried to flee, it wasn’t as if you couldn’t guess what was coming for you, but you didn’t keep a horse, and you knew better than to stave off the inevitable. He’d catch you, no matter how far you ran, no matter how many times you refused him. He’d promised as much, the first time he declared that you’d be his.
Rather than escape, you stayed where you were, perched on the rotting wooden steps leading up to your door and watching the oncoming flare. His scouts, dressed in black and prone to circling your meager home like vultures, reached you before he did, then sergeants, piling in by the dozen, well-armed and jeering and carrying his insignia with a sort of heady arrogance. Finally, he emerged from the growth, surrounded by his lieutenants and mounted on a sleek, grey steed larger than any you’d ever seen before. He was a far cry from how you’d seen him last – his bandages gone, his pitch-black hair grown down to his shoulders, the rags you’d been able to lend him traded out for shining armor clean enough to catch the torchlight and glow scarlet. A great-sword sat at his hip, two more curved blades crossed over his back, but you couldn’t seem to find much joy in his fortune. Not when you’d soon be counted among one of his many, many precious things.
As he dismounted, the movements practiced to the point of thoughtlessness, you rose to meet him, hyper-aware that this would likely be the last time you’d be able to stand on equal ground. “Wren.”
It wasn’t his name. You’d misheard him, the first time you asked; made what you could out of the slurred syllables he’d been able to spit out and never found the time to look back. Even when he started to recover, when he was able to hold onto consciousness for longer than a minute at a time and more than just your clumsy stitching held the jagged cut stretching from his shoulder to his hip shut, he always failed to correct you. His real name – Wyvern, given to him as an unknown orphan after he slayed his namesake and delivered its head to a king who’d let him massacre armies and rampage through the countryside as he pleased – was something you had to learn the day he left, the day he told you who he was and why you’d found him bleeding out in a stream all those months ago. He’d asked you to come with him, back to the castle, and through tears, you’d told him that you wouldn’t have helped him if you’d known you were saving the life of a murderer. He’d tried to kiss you, and you slapped him and told him to get out of your cottage.
It wasn’t his name, but he smiled like it was, taking a step toward you. His soldiers started to close in, but he held up a hand, keeping them at bay. “Beloved.” It was a familiar petname. It used to make you blush, stammer, want to make flower crowns and kick your feet and learn to play some ridiculous stringed instrument. Now, it just made your stomach turn, your vision dim at the edges with rage. “I’m sorry I took so long to return to you. I had to gather a few friends – thought you should meet the future guests of our wedding.”
There was cheer from his soldiers, a flash of a grin from Wren. You stiffened, squaring your shoulders, but he remained unaffected, his expression only softening as you forced yourself to respond. “I meant what I said. I could never love a man with blood on his hands.”
If he heard you over the milling of his soldiers, the crackling of his torches and the distant sounds of the forest’s nightlife, he clearly wasn’t listening. Rather he closed the remaining space between you and him and took you in his arms. Your feet were off the ground in a moment, your chest against his chest in another, being spun idly as he let out a throaty laugh. “God,” he sighed, when he finally came to a stop. The sharp corners of his plated armor dug into your skin at odd angles, and his hold on your waist was tight enough to bruise. You’d had to ask him to be gentle before, to mind his inhuman strength when he touched you, but it was a lesson he just couldn’t seem to take to heart. “I missed the sound of your voice. I’ll have to take you with me on my next campaign - I don’t know if I could stand to leave you at court for all that time.”
“Put me down,” you hissed, hitting his shoulders with as much force as you could manage. He abided you, but didn’t let go of you – just moving his hold from your hips to your hands, taking them in his own before you had time to pull away.
“I couldn’t. I absolutely couldn’t. Most of the knights are absolute bastards, and you’re too sweet – they’d try to take you for themselves in a heartbeat. No, I can’t let you out of my sight for a moment, can I?” He paused, his face lighting up with apparent zeal. “You’ll adore the castle. I’ve already secured a cottage on the edge of the grounds, and you’ll have full reign of the gardens. We won’t have to—”
“Stop.” You attempted to wrench yourself out of his vice-grip, and when that failed, let out a ragged groan, tears already forming in the corners of your eyes. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“That’s not true.” His smile didn’t so much as waver. “You saved my life. You told me that you loved me, and I love you, too. How would either of us ever be happy if we were seperated?”
Something deep in your chest ached. It was impossible to look at him and not picture the countless mornings you’d woken up by his side, the countless days you’d passed teaching him how fish and tend to a garden, the countless nights you’d spent bundled beside a fire sharing stories with a man you thought you’d loved. It was impossible not to think about what he’d done and wish you’d driven that knife into his stomach yourself.
“I can’t love someone like you,” you said, finally, because you couldn’t bear to say anything else. “And I’m not leaving my home.”
At that, you could’ve sworn you saw something register in his dark eyes. He was quiet, his enthusiasm fading, and for a second, you thought he might’ve understood. For a second, you thought he might call away his soldiers, get back on his horse, and leave you to your quiet suffering.
Then, he leaned forward, his lips coming to rest against the top of your head. “Beloved,” his voice was low, stifled your skin. “You don’t have a home. Not without me.”
Abruptly, he pulled away from you, raising a hand and looking toward his soldiers. While you were left in the dark, they knew their signal, surging forward in a chaotic wave of yelling and footsteps. You pressed your form against Wren’s side, clenching your eyes shut and bracing yourself, but there was only a burst of heat, a sudden visible even through your eyelids. Another kiss, this one pressed into your cheek and chased with a soft chuckle.
When you could bring yourself to look, you found not a volley of arrows or a hundred swords all pointed at your neck, but your cottage engulfed in flame, shining golden in the oppressive night. Your shoulders fell, your mouth opening, but you failed to make a sound. Wren wasn’t as stunned, grinning as he pulled you close and pressed his lips into yours, the kiss delicate and tortuous all at once.
“Don’t worry,” he muttered as he pulled away, his tone so soft and so gentle, you could almost tell ignore the blood-soaked cruelty lingering just underneath it.
“The only home you need is with me.”
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exactlyyoungchaos · 20 days
Text
Loss of my Life.
Husband Simon X Reader.
My first time writing here!!! Please don't mind the mistakes as I'm writing this at 5 in the morning. enjoy!!!
TW: loss of a relationship, hurt, angst, little comfort, cursing, trauma(loss of family, mention of miscarriage), "its not you, its me bullshit" let me know if i missed something!
You used be a medic working with TF141 for years before you retired. that's how you met your now husband Simon Riley. he was the most loving, attentive and responsible partner you could've asked for, he was ghost to everyone but not you, never you. But something's changed recently.
ever since his last mission eight months ago, he's been detached, not talking to you properly, coming home extremely late and drunk. he hasn't even touched you since he came back and its saying something for a guy who used to be attached to your hips whenever he could.
you tried talking to him, tried asking what's wrong but you always got the same answer, " you're thinkin too much lovie, nothings wrong."
but you know your husband so you start digging, and that's the biggest mistake you have made.
you found a note in his vest pocket, where he keeps his wedding ring during missions that read " be safe and come back to me" in a handwriting you knew by heart but it wasn't yours.
it was of his childhood best friend. she was in the special forces as well, and recently worked with Simon's team on the last mission.
you knew then and there, the reason of the detachment, the curt responses. your husband was in love with the woman he told you not to worry about.
your eyes blur with the realization that the life you once knew is soon going to come to an end, the man you're in love with , who's ring you have been wearing for years is not yours anymore or maybe he never was.
you sat there in your closet, tears streaming down your face, gut wrenching sobs coming out of you mouth. he isn't home, like usual so there is no one to witness the loss of your life.
your brain conjure up all the good times you had with him but now all of it is tainted by the realization that none of it was true.
you remember every time you caught both of them looking at each other, the friendly adoration in Simon's eyes now looked like longing, with his hands still around your waist.
every time he said to you "you're the love of my life" with his lips on yours, was he wishing it was her? all these years, you were so in love, so blinded by the rose tinted glasses you had over your eyes that you never saw it?
you sat there for hours, mulling over your whole life. how the one person you thought was yours forever was never yours. so you got up, eyes hollow, bloodshot and puffy, your form trembling. you put the note back where it was and go lay on your bed.
you stare at the wall for hours, around three am, your front door opened and closed. you felt him as he walked in the bedroom and slipped under the sheets next to you.
for the first time in weeks, he put his arms around your waist and pulled you towards himself, " you awake love?" he murmured in your neck.
all that came out of your mouth was, " Am I not enough?" in a rough whisper.
his arms tense around you, he knows that you know. before he could say something, you turn to face him, still in his arms.
you look at his face, and trace his scars with your fingers as tears fell from your eyes on your pillow.
his expression is tortured, " Its not what you-" but you cut him off with a soft shush and a finger on his lips. the lips you called home for as long as you remember.
you don't want him to lie to you anymore so you smile, the same smile Simon has witnessed when you lost your whole family in an accident as he stood next to your shaking form during the funeral, the same smile you gave him when you had a miscarriage as he stood next to you on the hospital bed holding your hand, grieving with you.
his heart was breaking, he was cursing himself for doing this to you. but you don't blame him, you haven't said anything to him except "will you hold me for the last time? please?" and you bury your face in his chest, taking in his scent for the last time. feeling his erratic heartbeat for the last time.
Simon's hand tightened around you, he doesn't want to let you go. the only good thing that happened to him. he destroyed you, like he always does to anything he touches.
he knows he cant fix this, nothing he could say would fix this. so he held you, with all his might, for the last time.
part 2?
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smooth-perceval · 6 months
Text
“It’s snowing!-”
Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: Its snowing, Reader wants Max to come watch the snow on the sofa.
Warnings: fluff? A lot of it, Google translate.
Key: Y/N (your name)
Word count: 511
A/N: This is SUPER short, but quite cute 🙂💞
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“MAX!” I ran as quick as my legs would take me, darting through the halls of our apartment.
“MAX!” Breathing heavily I barged the game rooms door open, it bouncing back off the cabinet behind and smacking back into me.
Hissing I stepped back rubbing my head, before officially emerging in. “Max.”
“Honey I’m streaming.” Eyes glued to the screen, possibly glancing up at the camera.
“Oh-” shuffling over out of shot, I gave sassy a pet, looking back at Max praying for two minutes of his time.
“Whats up?” His brows furrowed as he turned into a corner, thus being his concentration face.
“I’ll show you when you’re done-” smiling I picked sassy up leaving the room.
“Schat-” (darling-) closing the door behind me, I headed back to the lounge curling up with sassy on the sofa, jimmy soon following.
Call me cruel but I know he would be churning to know what I had to show him- maybe his heads in the gutter he is definitely thinking of the naughty things- but I what I had to show him was all kinds of nice.
Pulling the blanket off the back of the sofa I pulled it over my legs watching the view outside- it really was the most wonderful time of the year.
“Sweetie- what did you have to show me?” he was bent over the sofa cradling my head close to him, leaving a trail of wet kisses up my exposed neck.
Without a sound I nodded my head towards the large windows, my hands reaching up and brushing over his arms.
“It’s snowing!-”
A light gasp escaped his lips, one simple delicate kiss placed on top of my head,
“Isn’t it beautiful…” humming happily I sink further into the sofa, and Max being Max- he practically launched himself over cuddling up next to me.
“Shall we get the tree out?” Tutting i swatted his arm. “No that’s bad luck.”
“You and your superstitions…” rolling his eyes, he then shuffled around finding himself more comfortable laying down with his head in my lap. “Says the guy who wears the same-” pressing his finger against my lips he looked up at me smiling.
“You really talk to much you know.”
Laughing lightly, combing my fingers through his hair I soon found myself cradling his face with my hand. “Says you, there’s plenty of videos online for evidence.”
“No idea what you’re talking about.” Rolling over he looked back out the window, my hand now resting on his back, rubbing it in a soothing manner.
“Maxplaing, Max…” smiling happily more to myself, I was watching what I could see of his face, bringing my other hand up to delicately trace the sides. “You could talk for England.”
Humming in response, his hand was now resting on my knee rubbing it gently. “Good thing I’m Dutch.”
“Good thing you’re mine.” His cheeks tinted a slight red, like he had been out in the snow.
“That was so cheesy.”
“Yeah let’s never bring that up again.”
“Can’t promise it won’t be mentioned.”
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