#“ye i pulled THAT MASTERPIECE off"

[golswia]

homosexuals gays homo-

[kissandtellus]

Hello hello. Can I request the LADs boys with an obliviously sexy hot mc. Like she does not know her own strength and cuteness and how it affects them. I can just imagine my poor boy Raf seething with rage like "I have literally told this girl I like her. HOW DOES SHE STILL NOT GET THE HINT!!" thank u and good day

Perfect

❀ Synopsis: When you are feeling a little down on yourself, your man is right there to pick you up.

❀ Warnings: Mentions of weight, mentions of self-counciousness, feeling down on yourself, happy ending.

⟡ Xavier

You were the picture of beauty Xavier. Everything from the curve of your hips to the tips of your fingers and everything in between. You stared at yourself in the mirror, analyzing every inch of your Hunters uniform.

Was it too tight here? Too loose around there?

Xavier stood behind you with arms crossed over his chest.

“You know, not even the brightest star in the sky could hold a candle to you.” He steps closer to bury his face in your hair, inhaling your scent. You giggle at the ticklish feeling of his breath on your skin.

“I don’t know. It just-“

“Just nothing.” He grabbed one of the fuzzy blankets he kept on every inch of your apartment and threw it over the floor length mirror. “Now that THAT is taken care of-“ he lifts you with ease, his arms tucked under your thighs. “How about I show you how perfect you are?”

The way your hair fell in-front of your eyes in the morning light was perfect. It was too early to be up anyways.

“No, no, nooo!” You whine, kicking your feet. “We are supposed to be training!”

“It can wait. Showing my girl how perfect she is, can’t.”

⟡Rafayel

“Pretty girl, what are you doin’?” Rafayel’s voice broke you out of your trance. You’d agreed to be his model for a painting but you were clutching the sheet too tight to your chest.

Volunteering to be a nude model wasn’t in the bodyguard description. Rafayel wiped the bead of sweat on his forehead away with the back of his hand. “Are you self-conscious again?”

“No!”

Yes.

Rafayel could read you like the back of his hand. He sat down his paintbrush and kneeled next to the chaise sofa you were lounging on.

He flicked blue paint over the tip of your nose. You wrinkled up your face and tried to draw into yourself.

He pulled the sheet away from your body, and then the hands that tried to hide the most unloved places on your body.

“How many times have I told you? I don’t paint ugly things. I only paint the most beautiful sceneries.” He pouted, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Now stay still and let me finish my masterpiece.”

⟡ Zayne

Zayne looked over your chart for the 3rd time since your appointment. “You are completely healthy.” He stated, pushing up his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

You leaned back in the chair, arms crossed over your chest. “I-I read these articles online. I should be a certain weight and I’m nowhere near that. I can’t-“

“What have I told you about those inaccurate websites?” His voice cut through your rambling. Your mouth snapped shut as he placed the clipboard on his desk. “So this is about the way you see yourself then?”

Zayne sighed and took off his glasses as well. He walked around his desk to stand before you. His hand cupped your jaw, tilting your chin upwards.

“I’ve wrote many research papers in my life. About everything under the sun,” he leaned forward so his forehead was pressed firmly against yours.

“But I could never write enough to tell you how perfect you are.”

⟡ Caleb

Caleb was brushing his teeth, watching you try and pin your hair up in different hairstyles. Lazy mornings with you were always the best, but right now you were freaking out about a bad hair day.

With his toothbrush in the side of his mouth, he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway. You had your hair in a makeshift ponytail with your hands. You let out a low groan and threw your head back in anguish.

“I just can’t do it like you can…my hair looks so bad…” The curls that framed your face were angelic to Caleb.

He spit out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth. His strong hands gently combed your curls over your shoulders as he looked at you in the reflection of the mirror.

“Leave your hair down,” he kissed the side of your head when he saw you pout.

“I think the world deserves to see how perfect you are. Do you know how many nights I pray that our kids will have hair like yours?”

“But C-“

“Nu uh, Pipsqueak. Down.”

⟡ Sylus

Sylus loved dressing you up in the finest of clothing. The floor length dress was made for you down to every seam. But somehow, you felt like a stranger to your own reflection.

Sylus buttoned a cuff link as he turned the corner. A sleek smile graced his features.

“You look per-…Kitten?” You tried to wipe away the tears from your cheeks before he could see. His curious red eyes softened immediately as he ate up the distance in a few strides. “Are you hurt?”

“It’s-it’s stupid…” you sniffled, trying to compose yourself. “You spent so much money on this dress and our date and-“

“Let’s stay home.”

“What?”

Sylus cupped your shoulders, his thumbs rolling circles on your skin. “Then let me take you out. Let me show the entire N109 Zone how beautiful of a woman I have in my arm.” His breath ghosted your lips.

“I just feel inadequate to even be with you.” You whisper against his soft lips. Sylus gave a soft chuckle, his long fingers stroking your cheek.

“It’s me who is unworthy. What did I do to deserve such a goddess in my presence?”

[nochepsicodelica]

Toji who leaves hickeys all over you so often that you have to push him away when you start looking like you fought an octopus.

"Toji, you know these aren't always gonna be so small. They're gonna end up looking like bruises. Just look at the ones you already left."

"Mhm," he hums, already leaving another one on your shoulder blade, releasing your skin with a wet smack of his lips. He rubs his spit into the mark like it's some sort of salve that'll make it last longer.

"I'm fine with these," you say, looking at all the one's he left on your chest and below. "but my neck... i'm running out of makeup, baby. I won't be able to cover them if you keep this up."

"Then don't." He would just love that. Despite how nonchalant he sounds about it, it's a highly recommended suggestion. He would genuinely love it if you walked around with his marks all over your neck. People will automatically know that you already have someone you get freaky with.

"I have to go to work sometime. I wouldn't be able to take having my neck stared at by everyone I talk to. No more neck hickeys."

He nears your neck, again. The second you say he can't put another mark on it, he spots a clear area and leans in, lightly pressing his lips against it.

"Tojiii," you whine, leaning forward, away from him. "Leave it alone."

"But, it's clear. It's lonely without being marked like the rest of your neck." He scoots forward again, putting his enormous hands on your waist to pull you close. "I'll be quick. Just-"

"Mm-mm. No," you interrupt, brushing his hands off of you.

"I might just die if you don't let me do this, ma."

"Really?" You raise your brows in disbelief.

"Really," he responds, so confidently.

You scoff. "You're so dramatic. You won't die if you don't get to suck on my neck."

"Who knows? I might spontaneously collapse because of it. Weirder, more unexplainable things have happened."

He's so dumb sometimes. Your hunk is absolutely ridiculous, and yet you find yourself weighing towards his point in this.

"Would marking up that blank space actually cure you?" You feel as silly as him for asking the question.

"Who's to say?"

You tilt your head and deadpan. "Right. I guess i'll take my chances and just keep the random patch of unmarked skin on my neck."

"Hey, that doesn't mean we can't try. Come on, now."

You groan and roll your eyes before making your way back to him. He cups your cheeks, smirking as he looks into your eyes, before turning your head to expose the blank area on your neck.

"It's a reaaally good spot, doll. I think i'm gonna make it."

You huff, unable to look at him because of the way your head is turned. You feel his tongue slide over your neck, the gesture transitioning to his lips kissing the area and then it feels sharp. His lips leave a stinging sensation with every second that they stay on you.

"Ow, fuck, you vampire. It feels like you're actually trying to suck the blood out of me." You wince. "Are you done?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm done." He admires his masterpiece and smirks with pride. You have an entire collar of hickeys that he put on you, and the newest one looks mean.

"You look pretty. Could eat you up, mama." He swipes at the new mark with his thumb, looking at the color that will remain on your skin for the next few days.

"I can tell. You already devoured me. You're insane. Just look at all of this," you say, running your hand over your kiss stained neck.

"I was just nibbling on you," he speaks, into your jaw, before smoothly laying you down, onto the bed. "Just wanted a little taste," he says, taking your hands in his and pinning them above your head. "Am I really insane for that?"

"Um..." you laugh, making your flustered state obvious. "Yes?"

"Damn." He gives you a long, deep kiss, that makes you forget what you were talking about. "You think i'm crazy?" You hum, and he does it again.

"Haven't you played with me enough? I feel like i'm some chew toy for you." You giggle, feeling his lips on your cheek, trailing towards your jaw.

He hums, dismissively. "Found more blank space."

[seichv]

˖ ࣪⭑ CERTIFIED FREAK !

☆ sum: sunday, gallagher, aventurine, and sampo's kinks.

contents: nsfw (MDNI!!!), f!reader, bdsm, dacryphilia, exhibitionsim, orgasm denial, slight degradation, praise, p in v, fingering, creampie, squirting, daddy kink (gallagher) sampo is subby and whiny, choking, just... freak shit hehe ;)

note: writing slump: 0 ellie: 1 ( ͡° ͜�� ͡°)

SUNDAY - BDSM

yeah, he can indeed fool someone with those angelic looks, can’t he? he can easily deceive with them. giving you the impression that you could get away with just about anything under his watch, huh? you were simply wrong. little did you know the things he was capable of.

who would’ve thought you’d find yourself tied up, bound, hands clasped together by ropes, ankles tied to the ends of the bed, with sunday looming over you like a tantalizing, impending, dooming shadow, his sharp gaze like daggers, like frosty ice, boring into you, boring deep. 

“should i have brought a gag along with me too, darling?” he teases, inching his face closer and closer to you as your pussy pulsates with a brutal need, drenched in your arousal. he can practically smell it on you. smell your surrender, your submission. 

and oh, how beautiful the sight of your naked form is… trembling, goosebumps tickling your skin. it’s purely art to him. a masterpiece. and it's all for him and him only.

you vigorously shake your head in response, watching him slowly stroke his cock as he aligned it just barely at your weeping entrance, and you impetuously rut your hips up, desiring friction, attention, any sort of contact, as you writhed in agonizing desperation, deprivation. "n-no, please… please, fuck me…”

he hums at the sound of your frail voice, a smile spreading along his face. "such a pretty mouth uttering such filthy words… hm,”

and before you can say anything else, you suck in a deep gasp, the intrusion of his length taking you out in one go. he buries himself to the hilt in one thrust, and slowly, tormentingly begins rolling his hips, watching your expression like a hawk the entire time. he can’t help but hiss, your spongey, melting walls encasing him, sheer blankets of your slippery slick smearing along his cock. this couldn’t be mere pleasure anymore, this was euphoria.

and he’s already lost his sanity,

“o-oh, yes, yes,” you gasp, the thump of your heart skyrocketing in speed, as his pelvis starts smacking into yours faster… and harder… the woody material of the bed frame beneath you creaking, and ramming into the walls. you simply can’t understand how he can possibly feel so good. reaching places inside you you never knew you could feel, as if he were attempting to merge the two you into one.

"i want you to tell me,” sunday whispers breathily, glacially, almost like an eerie rustle of wind, like a whoosh of arctic air blowing right through every inch of your weakened, restrained body. he reaches out, takes your jaw in his slender hand, his penetrating stare not moving an inch from your beady eyes. “how good does it feel, darling?”

your vocal cords are giving up on you, being pulled at with every labored mewl and sob running off from your quivering lips. you can barely form a response, a creeping warmth scratching at your skull, making you feel dumbified. “s-so good! c-can’t… last long…”

and neither can sunday, not with how pretty you look, not with how the sweet, harmonic melody of your sounds makes the ache in his cock escalate overwhelmingly. all the sensations are getting sharper, more vivid, his pulse syncing with his rapid panting.

"cum with me,” he permitted, his tone close to urgent, almost like a plead. “let go for me. together.”

and it all happens quick. sunday grabs onto your waist, tightly as if for leverage or grounding, his eyes going wide as he’s met with his climax, his cock twitching inside your cunt before dumping his load inside, strained groans breaking out his throat as you gush all over him simultaneously.

yeah, he’s addicted. addicted to basking in the blissful pleasure of your body, basking in it with you.

GALLAGHER - EXHIBITIONISM

oh, the things you do to him.

he’s on a shift. but you, being the damn minx that you are, decided to prance on into the drink lounge with your pretty ass, giving him that look, seductively licking the rim of sugar that coated the top of your glass, while looking him dead in the eye.

you little tease,

would it be shocking for you to end up pressed up on the wall in the employee room, that gratuitously short skirt (that you very much wore on purpose) hiked up around your waist, with his thick cock drilling into you? he shouldn’t even be indulging in this, since you’re such a brat. you shouldn’t be getting what you wanted. but he can’t fucking resist, not when you play with him like that.

"showing up to the lounge, teasin’ me like a little slut, huh? while i’m working?” he snarls, his deep, gruff voice snaking up from behind you and right into your ear, making your knees give out. gallagher peers down, before lightly pushing at your ankle with his boot, urging you to spread those pretty little legs wider for him, his hands grabbing at your bubble ass, fondling and spreading the globe-y flesh. he wants a nicer view of that pussy swallowing him whole.

and god, it’s like a fucking glove. a sleeve,

your pussy is crying for him, hugging him, holding on like you can’t bear the thought of letting him go. you’re coating him in that creamy, syrupy slick, and every stroke has the static in your mind playing more and more frenzied. and he’s just so big, that thick head of his cock bullying your cervix with every sloppy, rough smack of his hips against that ass… fuck.

"hngh— n-needed you… so bad…” you’d whimper, choking on every whiny noise that you try to suppress, as you’re still trying to keep in mind that you are indeed in public. not that you’d admit that it turns you on more. you can’t help yourself. not when you’ve got him on your mind all day, his musky scent that engulfs your senses in flames, his perfect body… those muscles that you’re always ogling at.

oh, and speaking of muscles— your eyes suddenly roll right back into your skull the moment his beefy, rock-hard bicep curls around your throat, manhandling you in a chokehold, pulling your head back and making you arch against him, his dazy gaze right up in your fucked-out face, and he chortles. 

"yeah, didn’t you? can’t go a little while without some dick, huh?” gallagher practically growls, his teeth gritting hard with his jaw taut and set in a firm clench. if anyone could get a glance of his expression right now, they’d think he fucking hates your guts, like he’s fuming. with the way his sleeves are pushed up his arms, the veins in his forearm are visible, throbbing and bulging just like the veins of his cock inside you, the veins that your pussy can map out perfectly,

"w-with no haah— panties underneath this fucking shit,” gallagher groans, before his free hand lands a sharp smack to your ass, leaving behind a delicious sting. he’s not even surprised that you like that shit. like the naughty, cock-hungry whore you were. 

“daddyyy…” you whine, your tongue lolling out dumbly as you went limp, every part of you going numb except your pussy, throbbing and aching harder and harder the more he plowed into you with ruining force, as if he was trying to make you crumble apart entirely.

”gonna cum for daddy, huh?” gallagher huffs, his tone of voice nearly mocking. “yeah… how ‘bout you shut the fuck up and take it? k-keep milking my shit dry f’me… f-fuck.’

and that’s when it hits, your orgasm. it’s like a freight train, like a harsh blow, knocking you out in a blink of an eye. there was no way you could hold it anymore, not with the authority in his voice combined with his unmatched fervor and strength—

it’s splattering, your juices squirting out your pussy like a fountain, your mouth agape as your nails claw at his arm that stayed put around your throat. gallagher groans out loud at the sight, his own eyes rolling back as a rushed, ‘fuck, fuck,’ rasps out his strained throat. thick, hot streams of his seed plugs your wet heat up to the very brim, and he stays there, panting hard with you pressed against him.

"f-fuck, sweetheart. made a goddamn mess—"

"gallagher?! whaddya’ doin’ in there, man? you disappear on me, or what?” aaand there’s siobhan… fuck.

you can only glance back at gallagher with a cheeky little giggle. hehe… whoops.

AVENTURINE - DACRYPHILIA

“don't you take those eyes off of me.” aventurine coos, his gaze flickering back and forth from your pussy, then back towards your face. he’s got you prettily sprawled out on the bed, two of his slender fingers pistoning inside your drooling cunt, curling at just the right angle, reaching nice and deep. his vigor is just relentless, you’re desperately trying to clamp your legs together, your face shying away as your eyes squint and your eyebrows curl inward, a squeal escaping from your throat.

“oh, i don’t think so,” aventurine grunts, his free hand roughly spreading your legs back open, his forearm shoving against the back of your thighs so that they stay pushed back. “you are not running from me, darling. take it like a good girl, won't you?” he purrs, and you gasp, dragging out a hoarse whine as he picks up the pace, the wet sloshes that your cunt produces getting progressively louder. even flecks of your juices were flying out with every thrust of his hand at this point, and fuck, was it lewd…

“gonna cum—!” you’d croak out, warm tears flooding your vision and pooling up along the waterline of your eyes as you’re unable to sit still, creaks and rustling ringing out from the bed as you desperately attempt to thrash around, despite aventurine holding you in place. that familiar tingle in your lower tummy was brewing up, and quick.

and oh, were those tears he saw?

the ache and the strain in his pants only hardens at the sight, serving to drive him even crazier. he can’t help it. you look so helpless, so vulnerable, yet so needy, so desperate. and it’s all because of him…  fuck. makes him wanna devour you whole, like he’s lost every train of thought, every bit of composure…

“my, oh my,” he snickers, shaking his head incredulously as he keeps his gaze glued to you, his violet orbs bordering a feral look to them. he loves seeing those crystal streams trickling down those cheeks that are prominently coated in a deep, rosy flush of color. you look like a doll.

his doll,

and he can tell when his doll is close. that adorable look on your face gives it away, eyes wide, gazing up at him, your mouth dangling open, hands grasping at the sheets for dear life. “gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his tone low, almost taunting, so velvety, so smooth, it's practically spine-chilling, and that alone makes your walls clench around his digits once more. as if you hadn’t done that enough already.

"y-yes, gonna— fuck!” you’re cut off as aventurine’s thumb meets your clit, rubbing the swollen nub with skilled precision, causing your pleasure to soar up to insanely imposing heights. its as if he’s trying to coax your pussy into orgasm, trying to lure you into cumming. and fuck, is he doing a good job at it. a good job is an understatement. his hands... it’s like they could cast a damn spell on your pussy,

“cum, pretty. make a mess all over my fingers. go on,” he urges, the smirk on his face flashing brighter as one last whimper rips out from your throat, until you’re squirting all over his hand, and his mouth drops open, his pupils blowing and darkening.

"oh, yess,” he groans, eager to milk every last drop out of your pretty pussy, continuing to finger fuck you through your high, elongating it, even as you’re a shaking mess, trying to pry away from him. 

“mhmm, would you look at that,” he huskily purrs, sliding his creamy, sticky fingers out your pussy with a squelch, licking them clean with a smirk, before your pussy throbs at the contact of his hand meeting it in a mean slap, spanking your pussy and sending a jolt through your body. 

"made my pretty girl cry from both her eyes, and her pussy, hm? poor thing…”

SAMPO - ORGASM DENIAL

sampo is a mouthy one, there’s no doubt about that. roguish, cocky, cheeky. you can't help but feel this itching urge to shut him up. to put him in his place.

hence why you’ve got him in between your legs, his back to your chest, one of your hands pumping his cock while the other is over his mouth, muffling his needy moans.

he’s bucking his hips up as you stroke his cock, fucking up into your hand, his eyes rolled back,

”ohh, baby,” you coo with a sly grin, your warm breath fanning against the shell of his ear before you give it a small nibble. “don’t tell me you wanna cum already, hm? its too early for that, silly boy.”

you lift your hand off of his mouth, only to gently wrap it around his throat, and he lets out a hoarse whimper, shaking his head. “n-no… w-won't cum yet… won’t cum…” he whines, and it practically pains him to say that, as he’s just dying to cum, his angry tip flushed bright red, his balls heavy and aching, desperate for release.

"good boy. you just sit still and take it.” you giggle, your words alone making him even needier by tenfold, his legs shaking, his hands grasping at your legs like lifelines. 

you’re pumping harder now, schlick after schlick, sticky and creamy, his arousal making a mess out of your hand.

he throws his head back against your shoulder with a loud moan, his hips bucking more frantically before you land a soft spank to his balls, earning a sound from his throat that almost sounded close to a shriek. 

“didn’t i just tell you to sit still?” you resume your quick, rough stroking as sampo has to hold back from literally throwing himself around, his consciousness practically out the window at this point. “you were doing so good f’me, sampo. what happened? don’t you wanna cum?”

"yes!” he’s quick to respond, burying his face in your neck as he sniffles, shaking hard like a leaf. “y-yes, please… ‘m sorry, so sorry… w-wanna cum so bad—!” he whines, hearing that buzzing begin to ring in his ears, his vision a bright white light. his limits are being pushed and pushed and pushed, about to burst like a balloon. its too much for him.

"p-please… can i cum for you? n-need to cum for you…” he whimpers, lifting his face to look into your eyes with a pleading, almost teary gaze. his cock is solid, and he needs this release so bad it’s close to paining him. “s-so much… i have s-so much for you…”

"mm, wanna make a mess all over me, don’t you? all for me,” you giggle, pumping especially harder at the tip, making the twitch in his thighs quicken.

"go on, then. cum for me. let me see how bad you need to,” pfft. you didn’t need to tell him twice. like jets, his cum splurts out, shooting straight up and all over your hand as he’s whimpering— whimpering fucking loud. his jaw falls slack, fat beads of sweat running down his temples, his eyes going straight back into his head yet again as he thrashes back against you. you gasp, chuckling softly as you keep your gaze glued to his twitching cock, leaning in to gently pepper kisses along his neck, making him shiver harder. 

”oh, lookkk at that,” you purr, your hand that was around his throat sliding up to brush his hair away from his face. “there you go, easy, baby,” you whisper, and he chuckles breathily, whimpering small little, ‘thank you’s’ before his eyes flicker back open and fall upon your tongue licking his cum off your hand.

yeah. that’ll do it for him. now he’s definitely gonna slurp your pussy off the bone.

[botanicsoul]

Petty

College AU | Shouto Todoroki x petty!Reader

₊⊹𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹

You knew what heartbreak felt like before, but betrayal? That was something else entirely.

Your hair was a mess, makeup smudged, and your mouth dry like you’d swallowed sand. You trudged into the kitchen of your college dorm expecting nothing but coffee and quiet. Instead, Mina’s voice sliced through your skull.

“God, you missed it last night! Hagakure ended up in the closet with Kirishima after spin the bottle—”

You stopped mid-pouring your coffee.

“She totally sucked him off,” Mina added, oblivious, laughing like it was no big deal. “Did not see that one coming.”

You couldn’t even breathe. The world started to blur around the edges. The words barely processed. “What?” you blinked.

“Oh yeah, it was sometime after you headed to bed…” her giggling died after seeing your reaction. “The party was starting to die down a little so a group played spin the bottle. Kami dared hagakure. Closet. Seven minutes. She sucked his dick.”

Mina glanced at you for a moment before realizing. “Wait… weren’t you crushing on him?” Crushing wasn’t the word. You’d spent months soft-liking Kirishima. Sitting close in class, joining gym sessions, sharing earbuds at study nights. Your throat burned.

The question ‘She what?’ kept playing in your head. You left before your vision could blur anymore. The worst part? You told her. Told Hagakure you liked him. That you’d been working up the courage to say something. Flirting a little more. Getting closer. She smiled through it all. “Omg do it!” she’d said. “You’d be so cute!”

She waited till you were gone to get on her knees for him.

⸻

She found you later that day, fake-innocent voice and that same chipper tone that made your stomach turn now.

“Are you mad?” she asked, walking beside you her clothes floating next to you.

You smiled. “Mad? No. I’m good.” you lied.

She smiled with a relieved look. “Great! I was just suuuuuper drunk”

Your smile got so wide it was sharp enough to slit skin. “Not like I owned him.”

And just like that, the plan wrote itself. You remembered every time she stared too long at Shouto Todoroki. The way her invisible ass always somehow ended up next to him. The giggles. The failed attempts at small talk.

And lucky you… you knew how to strike where it hurt. She might’ve been bold, might’ve made the first move when you were too shy to—but you? You were calculated. Visible. Petty enough to weaponize lust like a blade, and wield it right where she bled.

⸻

You got him slowly.

A shared bench at lunch. A casual laugh during class. Sitting just a little too close. Pretending to struggle with the homework you’d already done.

He was quiet, reserved, polite—but the flush on his cheeks didn’t lie. And when you asked, “Want to hang out after this?” He said yes.

That night, you kissed him first. Pulled him down by the collar and moaned against his mouth like he’d been yours for years.

“You sure about this?” he whispered, voice breathless as you slid into his lap on his couch, straddling him. You smirked. “Positive”

⸻

The next night—your masterpiece began.

You were sitting in his dorm,laying in his bed in nothing but one of his half-zipped hoodies, cheeks warm from the tea he made, thighs still sore from the night before. He was out grabbing a charger from a friend upstairs.

And you had his phone. Quick fingers, perfect timing.

—

6:38 PM. - “Hey, Can I borrow your chem notes? Left mine in the library. Could you just drop them at my door? Thx”

—

Send.

Door unlocked. Just barely cracked open.

You sat back down. Smiling.

⸻

7:08 PM.

Shouto’s cock was buried deep inside you.

You were riding him. Slowly. Viciously. All deliberate bounce and filthy grind, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you circled your hips. Wet, noisy, disrespectful.

“Shit,” he groaned, eyes fluttering. “You’re so—tight, fuck—”

You leaned in, breath hot in his ear. “You like watching me fall apart on you?” He moaned. He couldn’t even answer.

You were moaning shamelessly, riding him like he was the only man left on earth. Slick noises echoed off the walls, obscene and wet, your thighs shaking with every grind of your hips.

He was so deep. So thick. Every drag made you see stars. You tilted your head back, pretending to cry out from the pleasure—when really, you were listening.

His hands gripped your hips, fingers bruising, and you smiled as your rhythm stayed steady— And then the door creaked.

You didn’t stop moving. You looked. Right over your shoulder where Hagakure stood, notes in hand, frozen like a ghost just watching. Her quirk must’ve shimmered out from the shock because you saw her. Fully. Your eyes met. And you grinned.

Big. Wicked. Satisfied.

Bouncing faster now, voice dripping in pleasure and poison. “Wanna leave the notes?” you panted.

She bolted.

Shouto groaned, completely unaware. “What—was that—?” You turned his chin back toward you, nails raking down his chest. “Nothing that matters, baby,” you whispered.

And you fucked him harder—moaning loud, messy, vindicated—until you came with a cry and collapsed against his chest, skin sticky and sweat-slicked, heart thudding with perfect, evil joy.

You didn’t just win.

You burned the whole game board down.

₊⊹𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹

[cayleeuhithinknott]

— rewarding sub!chris just the way he wants. . . tw: pegging

filthy.

the scene unfolding before you is purely filthy. your hips loudly knocking into chris’s ass as you pound into him from behind. poor thing is sobbing. on his hands and knees—a whiny, messy, incoherent mess.

this was supposed to be a reward. for his good behavior all week. you hadn’t had to nudge him back in line or correct his behavior the past 7 days, so you decided to reward him for it.

by blowing his back out.

you’ve made him cum…what, 3 times now? maybe 4? he’s literally crying, shaking like a leaf in the wind. but he just begs for more. tells you he can take it, he promises. swears he can handle it.

so, per his request, you’re still absolutely ruining him.

“such a good boy for mama,” you pant, sweat glistening on your forehead. “takin’ it so, so well. aren’t you, baby?”

chris’s arms begin to burn from having to work overtime to hold himself up. fat, hot tears trickled down his face, jaw hanging slack, making it easy for his pathetic, whiny sobs to flow out.

you slam into him, burying yourself deep inside him, the pink dildo attached to the strap completely disappearing. you still, your hips resting against his reddened ass. the tip rests snug against his prostate, making him squirm.

“answer me, chris. aren’t you taking it so well?” you smack his ass, the loud noise ringing throughout the room. chris nods his head fervently, unable to form words as you start hammering into him once again.

“words.”

“y-yes!” he squeaks, fists clenching desperately into the sheets beneath him. you chuckle darkly at that, one hand leaving his hips to press into his lower back, forcing him to arch further. what a sight.

chris’s whines become louder, more high-pitched. you knew he was overstimulated. you knew it was too much. but you also knew he was really enjoying this.

he starts to squirm away from you, running from the overwhelming pleasure. you harshly grip his hips yanking him back onto the dildo, and chris yelps sharply.

“ah-ah. don’t run from me, sweetheart,” you tut, pulling his hips back repeatedly, fucking him onto the dildo instead of you fucking into him. “you wanted this, didn’t you?”

chris’s eyes roll back in pure ecstasy, mouth dropping open again, drool seeping onto the sheets beneath him. you scoff. “st-still do!” he cries out, that familiar heat pooling in his tummy for probably the 5th time tonight.

he reaches beneath him to touch his dick, to which you grab his arm and pin it behind him down on his back. “absolutely not,” you snap. chris whines. “is this not enough for you, christopher?”

“i-it is! just want m-more—“ chris’s words break off into a series of strangled, high pitched moans as you push him further into the bed, gaining a new angle that allows you to repeatedly hit his prostate dead-on.

“oh, you like that, huh? is that good enough? doesn’t matter. you’re gonna cum the way i want you to,” you grunt, pounding him into oblivion. chris weakly manages to turn his head back slightly to catch a glimpse of you, and you also happen to catch a glimpse of him.

he’s absolutely fucked out. drool seeping past his swollen, red lips. his eyes rimmed-red and pouring tears. his cheeks cherry red and tear-stricken. hair messy. what a masterpiece.

chris nods frantically, a violent shiver running through his body, sweat beading on his forehead. you could tell he was getting close. “gonna cum, baby?” at your words, a wrecked sob falls from chris’s lips, and you knew. “yeeaah, you are. c’mon, sweet boy, you’ve earned it.”

and the string snaps.

chris chokes on a violent, whiny sob, his body convulsing. his ropes of cum land in the same soaked spot on the bedsheets where his sore cock is resting. you tap his hips before leisurely pulling out of him, careful not to further ruin his wrecked hole.

“oh, such a good boy,” you praise, admiring his stretched hole, massaging his ass cheeks soothingly. “d-did good?” chris stammers, still catching his breath, slumping down to lay on his stomach, ignoring the soaked sheets.

“did amazing, honey. c’mon, let’s get you a bath,” you press a kiss to his shoulder, voice sweet as you whisper, “gotta take care of my perfect boy after he takes me so well.”

chris hums in response, too fucked out to form real words, his cheek smushed into the tear and drool soaked pillow. his body’s trembling just the slightest, still winding down from everything you just gave him.

you shift carefully, pulling back the mess of sheets and brushing some hair from his face. “up, baby. bath time,” you coo gently, tapping his hip. he groans, but obeys, sluggishly dragging himself upright with heavy limbs like dead weight.

you help him all the way to the bathroom—arms around his waist, trying to soothe the aftershocks. once there, you run the water warm, adding a little lavender bubbles just the way he likes.

he sinks into the tub with a shaky sigh, and you kneel beside it, cupping water in your hands to pour it over his chest. “you did so good for me, sweetheart,” you whisper, kissing his temple as you lather up a soft cloth. “you always do.”

chris leans into every touch of yours, eyelids heavy, letting out a soft whimper when you gently massage his thighs and wipe swiftly between his legs. “love you,” he mumbles.

“love you more,” you whisper back, fingers carding through his damp hair. “my good boy.”

author’s note. . . uh hi 😥 sorry this is really short and like awful like idek what’s going on i was just writing random stuff and i feel like i made reader kinda mean but oh well. kinda based on this post from @theyluvivi ! short taglist for this one since it’s pegging—let me know if u’d like to be on the alternate taglist! again sorry this is short and shitty!

🏷️ : @oopsiedaisydeer @grace-sturnz @strnilolover @adorechris @courta13 @sturnboos @owenstar @mattybsgroupie @tezzzzzzzz @surprisecurlyfriesbackup @zenithsturniolo

© cayleeuhithinknott

[alygator77]

❖ cursed by color — satoru’s new look ❖

❀ summary. satoru gojo faces a challenge no amount of cursed energy can prepare him for—his daughter’s makeover. with pigtails, polish, and plenty of giggles, satoru finds himself utterly powerless to resist her antics.

❀ contents. pure fluff. pre-established relationship. you're both sorcerers. domesticity. satoru being the best girl dad.

❀ wc. 2.7k

As you push the front door open, the first thing you hear is giggles. Not just any giggles—those giggles. The kind that signals trouble or, more likely, your husband being roped into something ridiculous by your daughter. Toeing off your shoes as you walk in, you turn the corner, curious to find out what mischief is happening now.

And there, you are met with Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer in the world, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table—completely at the mercy of your daughter.

“Hold still, Daddy! You’re gonna mess it up!” she scolds with all the authority a four-year-old can muster.

“I’m trying,” Satoru whines, his head tipped back against the couch. “But I’m starting to think I’ll be stuck like this forever.”

Biting your lip, you suppress a laugh as you step further into the room.

“Oh, and what’s going on here?”

Satoru’s head swivels toward you, a grin instantly spreading across his face.

“Ah, my love, you’re just in time to witness history in the making. I’m being upgraded.”

Your eyebrow raises as you take in the sight of him—each finger covered in glittery pink nail polish.

“Upgraded, huh? Looks more like a full-on makeover.”

Proud of her work—your daughter beams up at you.

“Mommy, look! Daddy said the glitter makes him super strong!”

“Did he now?” you glance at Satoru with a smirk. “How much stronger are we talkin’ here?”

“Like, a million times stronger!” she declares with a big smile, capping the nail polish bottle like a professional. “All done!”

Satoru lifts his hands, admiring the sparkling polish with a mock serious expression.

“I’m practically invincible now.”

Ah, but—your daughter, isn’t done. Jumping up with excitement, her eyes gleam with a new idea.

“Daddy! Daddy! Now I’m gonna do your hair!”

Satoru freezes in panic, eyes darting between you and your daughter.

“Uh, my hair? I’m pretty sure it’s perfect as is, don’t you think?”

But before he can protest, your daughter has already dashed off to grab her hair accessories.

“y/n! Help! I’m being held hostage by a tiny tyrant,” he pleads, giving you his best puppy-dog eyes.

But you just grin, crossing your arms.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of stopping her. Besides, I’d love to see what she comes up with.”

“Traitor…” Satoru mutters under his breath as your daughter returns moments later with a plastic comb and a handful of colorful hair ties.

“Sit still, Daddy!” she demands, climbing onto his lap and tugging at his snowy white hair with enthusiasm.

Satoru winces but stays obediently still, his lips twitching between a grimace and a grin.

“Yes, ma’am. I wouldn’t dream of ruining your masterpiece.” He flinches as she accidentally tugs a bit too hard. “Ouch. Careful, sweetheart. Daddy needs to keep some of his hair please.”

Too engrossed in her ‘hairstylist’ role to notice his plea, your daughter starts gathering little sections of his hair, combing it carefully, and securing them with bright pink and purple hair ties—the pigtails are uneven, sticking out at odd angles, but she works with such determination—her little tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration.

“There!” she announces, standing back up to admire her work. “Now you look perfect, Daddy!”

Satoru raises an eyebrow, looking at you with a mix of resignation and amusement.

“Perfect, huh?”

Stepping closer, you pretend to give his new look a serious evaluation—his hair is pulled into several lopsided pigtails, each one accented by colorful clips and ties.

“Hmm, I don’t know... It’s close, but I think something’s missing sweetheart.”

Satoru narrows his eyes at you suspiciously.

“What do you mean, ‘something’s missing’?”

Giving him a playful grin, you pretend to study his face before snapping your fingers.

“Ah, I’ve got it. Makeup. A look like this just isn’t complete without some makeup.”

Satoru’s eyes widen in horror as your daughter gasps excitedly.

“You’re right Mommy!”

“No, no, no—” Satoru starts to protest, but your daughter is already darting toward your room, her giggles echoing through the house as she searches for your makeup bag. He drops his head back against the couch, groaning. “y/n, why would you do this to me? Haven’t I suffered enough?”

You plop down next to him on the floor and tap his nose teasingly.

“You’ve handled curses. You can handle a four-year-old stylist. Stay strong.”

“Don’t worry, Daddy!” your daughter chimes in, running back as she triumphantly holds your makeup bag. “You’re gonna look soooo cute!”

Satoru lets out a resigned sigh, leaning back and closing his eyes.

“Alright. Do your worst, kiddo.”

As your daughter starts unpacking the makeup bag, he mutters under his breath to you.

“Just so you know, I expect full compensation for this. Something involving chocolate cake.”

Chuckling, you reach out for his hand and interlock your fingers—offering him a comforting squeeze.

“Oh, you’ll get cake. Maybe a crown too, after this.”

“Great,” he sighs dramatically, “I’ll take the cake in exchange for my dignity.”

Your daughter, too focused to even notice your banter, pulls out a tube of bright pink lipstick.

“Okay, Daddy, pucker up!”

Sighing dramatically again, he puckers his lips for your daughter, who eagerly leans in to apply the lipstick with far more enthusiasm than precision—half of the lipstick ends up on his upper lip, and the other half, somewhere closer to his chin.

“Beautiful!” your daughter announces proudly, standing back to admire her work.

Satoru tries to glance down at his lips, his eyebrow quirking up.

“Beautiful, huh? Uh… should I be concerned that I can’t feel where half of this is?”

You cover your mouth, trying not to burst out laughing.

“It’s very... abstract.”

Before Satoru can comment, your daughter is already moving on—she pulls out the blush, her face scrunched in concentration as she starts swirling it onto his cheeks. The rosy color quickly turns into something more akin to a deep flush.

“Um, I think you’re using too much—” Satoru tries to say, but your daughter shushes him with a stern hand wave.

“Shhhh, Daddy! I’m the artist, remember?”

She dabs even more blush on his nose for good measure, and you cover your mouth again— trying to stifle your laughter as Satoru glares at you through squinted eyes.

“y/n, this feels personal.”

“Oh, not at all,” you exhale—grinning, “but I’ll admit, it’s a great look.”

Your daughter continues, switching to mascara—she fumbles with the tube for a second, and Satoru tenses, his eyes growing wide as she holds it up like a delicate weapon.

“Now for your eyes, Daddy!”

He blinks, sitting up a little straighter, and your daughter, eager to get closer, stands up on Satoru’s lap—wobbling slightly for balance. But as she leans in, her footing slips, and she topples forward, the mascara wand making a beeline for his face.

“Whoa—wait!” Satoru blurts out, instinctively pulling back, catching her mid-fall just before the brush nearly pokes him in the eye. He holds her steady as the brush grazes his cheek instead.

“Jeez, kiddo,” he chuckles, but there’s a hint of relief in his voice. “Let's not get too close with that thing. I still need my vision for exorcising curses.”

As he pats her head gently, your daughter giggles, scrambling back up—completely unfazed by her near-miss. She quickly regains her balance, waving the mascara wand again with renewed enthusiasm.

“Oops, sorry, Daddy! I’ll be more careful this time!” and without skipping a beat, she leans in for another attempt while Satoru sighs in playful resignation—a grin curling upon his lips.

“Okay, artist, but one smudge and I’m calling a redo. I have standards, y’know.”

You pull your knees into your chest—watching them with adoration.

“Hmm, I thought Infinity was supposed to block all external threats,” you grin, raising an eyebrow. “Guess it’s no match for a determined toddler, huh?”

Satoru laughs softly, watching your daughter carefully swipe the mascara across his lashes. As his gaze lingers on her, his smile softens—his voice lowering as the playful banter fades, leaving behind something more heartfelt.

“Mm, well… infinity can handle most things, but when it comes to her?” he glances up at you, a gaze full of warmth and affection as his voice dips lower—he offers you a small shrug. “And you? I’m powerless.”

Warmth floods your chest as you see the love in his eyes—it’s moments like this where he’s just Satoru—not the strongest sorcerer, but the man who adores you—the man who would do anything for his two girls.

“Well,” you murmur, a small smile curling up your lip, “powerless looks good on you.”

You hold his gaze—an unspoken intimacy in the air, and your daughter, blissfully unaware of the tender moment, finishes her masterpiece with a triumphant flourish.

“All done, Daddy! Now you look soooo pretty!”

Satoru blinks a few times, adjusting to the feel of the mascara on his lashes.

“Oh yeah? Am I ready for a night out?” he asks, raising an eyebrow, still holding onto that playful grin.

“Forget the night out—you’re ready for a photoshoot,” you quip, quickly snapping a picture of him before he can react.

The moment the camera clicks, Satoru’s eyes widen, and his grin falters.

“Wait—did you just...?” His tone turns from amused to mock-horrified as he realizes what you’ve done. “Oh no, no, no. Give me that phone, y/n.”

You hold the phone up just out of his reach, smirking.

“What, you don’t want the world to see the ‘prettiest’ sorcerer in all his glory?”

Satoru lunges toward you, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“You’re not keeping that!” he declares, and before you know it, he’s trying to snatch the phone from your hand.

You squeal, spinning away from him as you clutch the phone tightly to your chest.

“Oh, come on! This is gold!”

Satoru reaches out, his hands grabbing at your waist as he tries to get closer.

“Nope, delete it!” he insists, laughing as he playfully wrestles you for the phone.

You twist away again, giggling as you evade his attempts, dancing just out of his reach.

“Oh, but it’s too good to delete! You’ll thank me later when this becomes your new profile picture.”

“Like hell I will!” Satoru laughs, lunging again, this time managing to grab your wrist. He tugs you closer, using his free hand to reach for the phone. “Come on, y/n, hand it over. No one needs to see me with pigtails and mascara.”

You’re both laughing now, the playfulness escalating as you try to wiggle free from his grasp.

“But you look stunning! This could be your big modeling break!”

Just as Satoru tries to make another move for the phone, you hear an excited giggle from behind you—before either of you can react, your daughter’s voice rings out.

“Dog pile on Daddy!”

Satoru lets out an exaggerated groan as your daughter climbs onto his back, clinging to his shoulders with her little arms.

“Ahhh! No, not you too!” he cries dramatically, the grin never leaving his face.

Your daughter bounces excitedly on his back, giggling as she tightens her grip around his neck.

“Mommy! You too! Dog pile on Daddy!”

You can’t resist the pure chaos unfolding in front of you—the joy in her laughter pulling you in.

“You asked for it ‘toru,” with a grin, and a playful lunge, you tackle Satoru to the floor, landing on top of him with a light thud.

Satoru stumbles under the weight of both his girls, dramatically flopping onto the floor as if utterly defeated.

“Ahh! Nooo! I’m down! I’m down!” he cries, laughing so hard his eyes squeezed shut.

Your daughter squeals with joy, her laughter infectious as she bounces on his chest.

“We got him, Mommy! We got him!”

“Yeah, you did,” Satoru groans, still laughing as he reaches up to dramatically shield his face with one hand. “I didn’t stand a chance.”

The three of you are laughing uncontrollably now, tangled together on the floor in a mess of arms and legs. Satoru—still pinned beneath you and your daughter—finally rolls over onto his back, pulling you both into his chest as he catches his breath.

“Looks like you’re officially outnumbered, Satoru,” you tease, holding your phone up to show off the photo of him—his hair a colorful mess of pigtails and clips, his lips bright pink, and his cheeks dusted heavily with blush.

Satoru’s eyes widen in mock horror when he sees the picture.

“Betrayed by my own family... I should’ve seen this coming.”

Before you can respond, your daughter leans in to look at the picture, her eyes lighting up as she gasps.

“Daddy! You’re soooo pretty!” she declares with an enthusiastic smile.

Satoru’s faux horror softens immediately as he laughs, pulling her into a hug.

“Pretty, huh? Well, I guess if my favorite artist says so, then it must be true.”

“Guess you’re not just the strongest anymore—pretty’s your new title,” you grin, propping yourself up on your elbow as you rest your chin in your hand.

Satoru narrows his eyes playfully at you, but there’s a mischievous glint forming in his gaze—grinning, he leans back as if an idea has just struck him. His voice drops to a teasing murmur as he turns to your daughter.

“But you know...” he begins slyly, his grin growing wider, “since my little artist did such a great job on me, maybe it’s Mommy’s turn next.”

You shoot him a look, instantly suspicious.

“Oh, don’t you dare.”

Satoru’s smirk deepens, clearly reveling in your mock hesitation. He pulls your daughter closer, his hand gently running through her hair, adding a touch of tenderness to his playful plotting.

“It’s only fair, right, princess?” he asks conspiratorially, glancing down at her with that warm, affectionate look that always gets her excited. “I say it’s time for Mommy to get the full makeover treatment.”

She gasps, clapping her hands together in delight.

“Yes! Mommy’s turn! I can make you look soooo pretty, Mommy!”

You sit up, laughing nervously as she squeals—your hands up in a surrender.

“Wait, wait, maybe we should—”

But it’s too late—your daughter is running towards the nail polish, and Satoru leans back on his elbows as he watchers her go—looking far too pleased with himself.

“Looks like you’re not getting out of this one,” he says smugly. “You’re in good hands,” he continues, nodding toward your daughter as she eagerly collects nail polish and clips. “She’s a pro—you’ll look ‘soooo pretty,’ just like me.”

You groan in mock defeat but smile nonetheless.

“Oh great, the prettiest sorcerer title will soon belong to me.”

Satoru sits up, chuckling softly as he glances over at you. His eyes find yours and the world seems to slow—his expression softening in that way that always makes your heart flutter.

“You’ve always had that title,” he murmurs, with a tender smile. “No contest.”

A warmth creeps up your face as his gaze holds yours—you can feel the sincerity in the way he looks at you, like you’ve always been his everything.

Reaching over, he gently brushes his knee against yours in a simple but affectionate gesture.

“I love you, you know that?”

His voice carries the weight of those words, and you lean in—unable to stop yourself from pressing a gentle kiss to his temple before you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath you.

“I know,” you whisper back. “I love you too.”

Satoru sighs lightly, the sound barely more than a breath as his arm wraps around you—drawing you closer against him. His hand moves in slow, soothing motions along your arm, his thumb tracing soft circles over your skin.

Together, you sit in peaceful contentment—like nothing in the world could disrupt this moment—wrapped up in the easy warmth of each other’s presence as your daughter hums happily in the background, carefully arranging her colorful collection of nail polishes and hair clips.

Satoru’s voice, barely above a whisper, breaks the quiet but not the peace.

“As long as I have you two,” he murmurs, “there’s no curse I can’t handle.”

a/n. yeah... fuck ch 271. i needed some satoru comfort so here you guys go :')

[zorosgirlfriend]

Vinsmoke Sanji ~ !! Match Made in Heaven.

context: When you boarded the Sunny, it was love at first swoon—literally. You and Sanji mirrored each other’s over-the-top flirtation, fawning, and dramatics like two hopeless romantics in a stage play. basically you simp for men like how sanji simps for women

warnings: none! it's kinda cheesy sooo..!, yeah i dunno, pick up lines here and there. reader is probably more pro at swooning, hehe. mentions of luffy and zoro they talk in the background

masterlist and rules || have fun reading!

The moment your foot stepped onto the Sunny’s deck, Sanji's sixth sense for beauty activated.

His head turned in slow motion, wind seemingly sweeping through his hair as he caught sight of you with a gasp.

But before he could even take a single step forward—

“OH MY GOODNESS!”

You clutched your heart, lips parted, eyes wide. “You’re… you’re real?! A man in a suit, with a tie undone just the right amount, AND smoking?!”

Sanji blinked. “Eh?”

You took a step forward, eyes practically sparkling. “Your collarbones are divine, and those eyes? I could drown in them!”

He froze. “You’re swooning over… me?"

“Yes!” you exclaimed, dramatically fanning yourself. “I’ve never seen such elegance and flirtation rolled into one man! The way you walk! The way you hold that tray! The way your hair covers one eye like you’ve got secrets—I’m weak!”

Sanji’s cigarette drooped from his lips. “Mon dieu… I must be dreaming.”

With a graceful spin, he flicked his cigarette to the side, caught it mid-air, and kneeled with one arm pressed to his chest. “Beautiful angel, radiant muse—how could such a perfect reflection of myself exist? Tell me your name before I collapse from love!”

“y/n,” you whispered, your own hand placed delicately over your heart. “But you can call me yours.” you said while batting your eyes.

His eyes sparkled. “Magnifique…"

Luffy blinked. “Is that… what happens when two Sanjis meet?”

Zoro groaned. “No. This is worse. They’re multiplying.”

Both of you ignored what they said and continued.

You stepped closer, both of you orbiting each other like two dramatic, hopelessly romantic comets. Your fingers brushed his lapel, and his hand found the small of your back with theatrical precision.

“You’re like the living embodiment of everything I’ve ever adored,” you said breathlessly. “Chivalry, charm, and a dangerous smile.”

“And you,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “are everything I’ve ever wanted to bake the world’s fluffiest soufflé for.”

You both stood still for a beat—hearts pounding, faces close, tension sparkling in the air like champagne bubbles…

Then Sanji took your hand gently, turned it over, and kissed the back of it with reverence.

You gasped softly. “You’re… incorrigible.”

He winked. “You’ve only seen the beginning.”

You pulled your hand back to your chest, dramatically flustered. “If you keep this up, I might just faint.”

He leaned in, just close enough for a flutter, his voice soft. “Then I’ll be ready to catch you.”

Your heart leapt.

A storm of butterflies swirled between you both—no kiss yet, but a promise hung in the air like petals waiting to fall.

A match made in dramatic, over-the-top heaven.

Not long after your theatrics on deck, Sanji insisted—no, declared—that he would cook something just for you.

“For someone as radiant as you, only the most exquisite dish will do,” he said, already rolling up his sleeves with a fiery gleam in his eyes.

You sat prettily at the counter, chin in your hands, watching him move with reverence. “That vein on your forearm when you stir the sauce? Be still, my heart.”

Sanji stumbled with the ladle, face turning red. “Y-You can’t just say things like that!”

“But it’s true!” you sighed. “You're a masterpiece in motion.”

He muttered something in French you couldn’t quite catch, his hand trembling ever so slightly as he garnished your plate. “You're too good at this… you're throwing me off my game!”

You giggled. “So you admit I’ve got you flustered.”

He turned his face away dramatically. “I will not confirm or deny.”

When he finally served the dish—golden, warm, and fragrant—you gasped.

“Did you just make heart-shaped potatoes?!”

“Only the best for a woman who clearly appreciates the art of a perfect spud,” he said, giving you a dashing smile.

You took one bite and moaned. “Sanji. If you keep feeding me like this, I will fall in love.”

He grabbed the counter for support. “You’re gonna kill me…”

You reached across the counter, gently fixing the collar of his shirt. “You forgot this button.”

He froze.

You leaned in, brushing your cheek close to his—so close that your hair tickled his jaw. “There. Better.”

He blinked, stunned. “You’re dangerous.”

You giggled, then leaned back with a sly grin. “I could say the same about you, Casanova.”

He placed a hand on his chest, pretending to swoon. “This... is what destiny feels like.”

And just like that, the kitchen felt like a dream—where blushes danced with laughter and flirtation sparkled like champagne.

No kiss yet… but the tension was simmering like the next course.

Long story short? After countless flirty kitchen disasters, dramatic compliments, and enough heart-shaped potatoes to feed a kingdom…

You and Sanji got married.

He cried more than you did at the ceremony. You made the cake together.

And yes—he still blushes every time you call him “mon amour.”

Match made in heaven? Absolutely.

[svtiddiess]

Red Silk

Synopsis: Your boyfriend's birthday gift? Him—wrapped in a pretty little bow under you.

Pairing: Mingyu (SVT) x afab!reader

Genre: smut, fluff, established relationship, oneshot

Rating: mature/nsfw

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: no plot just filth, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), bondage, blindfolds, masturbation, ab riding, degradation, spanking, creampie, big dick!Mingyu, size kink, mean dom!Mingyu, sub!reader, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: Mandatory Mingyu birthday fic. Happy Birthday, Mingoori! I hope your birthday is filled with lots of love and happiness!

Thank you @chugging-antiseptic-dye for beta reading!

Thank you @okiedokrie for the amazing banner and dividers!

Click here to join my taglist!

Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

A soft giggle escapes your lips as you put the finishing touches on the crimson silk ribbon. Leaning back, you admire your handiwork: red silk wrapped snugly around your boyfriend's toned and naked body, his hands pinned together at the top with the ribbon in a delicate bow keeping him in place. It's hard not to let your eyes linger—his tan biceps straining against the vibrant red, his hooded gaze locks onto yours, and his pink tongue occasionally darts out to wet his lips.

"This doesn't really feel like a birthday gift, babygirl," Mingyu grumbles, tugging lightly at the restraints.

You chuckle, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "Oh, but it is! You just have to trust me, Gyu."

He lets out a resigned sigh as you shift off the bed, his eyes following your every move.

"I've got another surprise for you," you purr, your voice dripping sugar tainted with mischief.

With a teasing smile, you slowly undo the robe you're wearing, letting it slip to the floor and revealing the red lingerie underneath, matching the silk binding Mingyu. His eyes widen, and a low growl rumbles in his chest as he tugs harder at the restraints. You can't help but giggle at his futile struggle.

"Do you like the surprise, Gyu?" you tease, giving him a playful twirl and a little show.

"Untie me. Now," he demands, his voice rough and dark with desire.

"But that would ruin the gift," you faux pout, very much enjoying his reactions.

"Baby," he growls, his voice dropping even lower.

"Yes?" you reply, grinning ear to ear.

"Untie me."

"Nope."

His biceps flex as he strains against the silk, the material digging into his skin. Your eyes light up as an idea strikes you. Giggling to yourself, you grab your phone and open the camera app. The moment was too perfect not to capture. Mingyu's dark, intense gaze follows you as you snap a few pictures, his expression a mix of irritation and something far more primal.

"You look so pretty like this, Gyu," you croon, unable to hide your amusement.

"Alright, fun's over, babygirl. Untie me. Now," he growls, his patience wearing thin.

"Oh, but we're just getting started, my dearest Mingyu," you smirk, your voice dripping with playful defiance.

His eyes track you as you walk over to the cupboard and pull out another red silk ribbon, this one shorter than the one binding him. You return to the bed, straddling him once more, a mischievous grin plastered across your face.

"One last surprise," you whisper against his ear, your breath warm as you tie the ribbon around his eyes, blindfolding him.

Leaning back, you take in the full picture—your strong, dominant boyfriend, now completely at your mercy, tied up and blindfolded—your masterpiece is finally complete.

Another growl rumbles from Mingyu's throat as he tugs at his restraints, clearly caught off guard by the blindfold.

"Do you like your blindfold?" you tease.

"No," he grumbles and keeps on tugging. The irritation in his voice only makes you laugh.

"Don't worry," you murmur, "it's only going to get better from here."

"With you? Doubt it." His voice is thick with irritation, but you catch the underlying tension—the way his muscles coil in tension (and anticipation) underneath the silk.

A slow grin curls your lips as you settle back, spreading your legs just outside of his. Beneath you, Mingyu is tense—waiting for the start of the finale.

Biting hard on your bottom lip, you shift your panties aside, slightly embarrassed by how soaked they are. God, the effect he has on you. With a shaky breath, you slide a finger inside, the wet sound obscenely loud in the quiet room.

Mingyu's head tilts, his entire body locking up.

"Baby…what are you doing?"

"G-Guess," you whimper, beginning to move your fingers in slow, deliberate strokes. "If you get it r-right I'll give you another surprise."

A moan slips free as you add a second finger, and you catch the exact moment realisation hits him—his jaw starts clenching, his breaths laboured and hitching.

"Figured it out yet?" You let out a breathy laugh, quickening the pace of your fingers, slick sounds filling the air.

"Babygirl—" His voice drops to a growl, his body straining against the silk holding him in place.

The deep, rough edge of his tone sends a thrill through you, your own moans mingling with the sounds of your fingers fucking into yourself. Your gaze drags over his body—his every muscle taut, his cock hard and dripping against his stomach. Unable to resist, you lean down, swiping your tongue across the tip just to hear him groan, his hips jerking helplessly.

"Gyu, I'm close," you pant, the tight coil in your stomach winding tighter.

"Don't you dare cum," he warns.

You let out a whimpering laugh, the hand currently not inside you circling your clit, determined to push yourself over the edge.

"Fuck!" Your back arches as you come, your release coating your fingers—and spraying Mingyu.

Catching your breath, you shift to straddle him properly, bringing your glistening fingers to his lips.

"Open wide," you purr.

With a low groan, he obeys, sucking your fingers clean, his tongue laving over every drop.

"Untie me," he murmurs against your skin, "and I'll make you cum at least three times with my mouth."

"Tempting," you hum, trailing a finger down his chest. "But I'm not done with your gift yet."

You hurriedly push your panties aside, leaving yourself completely bare. Straddling Mingyu's waist, you sink down, your wetness pressing against his toned abs with a gasp. The moment he realises what's happening, a low growl rumbles in his chest. Your hands brace against his shoulders as you start to move, slow at first, then with growing need.

"G-Gyu—" Your voice trembles, pleasure already coiling tight in your stomach.

Your hips roll faster, your slick coating his skin, making it shine under the dim light.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, head falling back.

His muscles flex beneath you, the friction sending sparks through your nerves. His jaw is clenched, breath ragged—he's barely holding on.

"Let me at least see you, please," he grits out, voice strained.

Taking pity, you reach up and tug off his blindfold. Mingyu blinks, adjusting to the light before his gaze locks onto you—his eyes darkening as he watches your hips work, your arousal dripping down his stomach.

The hunger in his stare only makes you wetter, your movements growing more frantic, chasing another release.

"Yeah, just like that. Use me, babygirl," he growls, and the sound goes straight to your core.

"Gyu, I'm gonna—!" Your nails dig into his shoulders.

"Do it. Make a mess all over me."

His words snap the last thread of control. You cry out as pleasure crashes through you, your body shuddering. Dragging him into a desperate kiss, you swallow his moan, still trembling from your high.

Then—fabric rips.

Suddenly, you're on your back, Mingyu caging you beneath him.

"Had your fun, babygirl?" His grin is all wicked amusement.

"You—how?" you stammer, stunned.

Mingyu only smirks before capturing your lips once more. His movements are hungry, primal—any illusion of control you had is long gone.

One large hand pins both of yours above your head as his lips trail hot kisses down your jaw. His free hand tugs your bralette down, baring your breasts, and a whine escapes you when he pinches a nipple between his fingers.

"I asked if you had fun torturing me, baby," he purrs, twisting it just a little harder.

"Ah! Y-Yes!" Your back arches, desperate for more.

He chuckles against your skin before his mouth closes over one breast, sucking hard while his fingers tease the other. You moan, writhing under his touch—until he suddenly hooks your leg over his shoulder and slams into you without warning.

Your eyes roll back. Mingyu's big, always so careful to prep you first, but tonight, you've pushed him too far.

His hips piston into you relentlessly, as his mouth and hands work your breasts. You're pinned, overwhelmed, your mind melting under the sheer pleasure of him filling you, stretching you, owning you.

"Please let me cum, please!" you sob, teetering on the edge.

"No." His teeth graze your neck. "You don't get to."

"P-Please, I can't—!" Tears spill as you struggle beneath him, but his grip is iron, his pace unyielding.

"You didn't untie me when I asked," he growls, "so now you don't get to cum."

You whimper and thrash, but his huge body is pressed against yours, reducing you to nothing but gasps and broken moans. You try—god, you try—to hold back, but the pleasure crashes over you, your body convulsing as you shatter anyway.

Dazed, you blink up at him, barely registering his scowl before his hand grips your jaw.

"Didn't I say no?" His voice is dangerously low.

"'M sorry—"

A dark laugh. "Count."

Then he's flipping you over, and you know you're in for it.

A sharp smack echoes through the room, followed by a stinging burn across your backside. Then another lands—harder this time.

"I said fucking count," Mingyu growls, delivering another punishing strike with his broad hand.

"T-Three!" you stammer, tears already streaking down your cheeks.

"Looks like you're finally learning to follow orders," he sneers before landing another blow.

"F-Four," you whimper, the mix of pain and pleasure sending shivers down your spine. You know your ass will ache tomorrow, but right now, you're too lost in the haze of sensation to care.

The next few smacks come in quick succession, each one fiercer than the last, until you're nothing but a trembling, sobbing mess. He clicks his tongue, his hand soothing the heated skin with a gentle rub.

"I'm not done with you yet, babygirl," he murmurs.

A choked moan escapes you as he pushes inside again, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. His thrusts rock your entire body, leaving no room for thought—just Mingyu, Mingyu, Mingyu echoing in your mind. A low whine builds in your throat as another orgasm coils tight inside you.

"Gonna cum again, baby?" he groans, feeling you clench around him.

You nod desperately, too far gone to speak. Mingyu chuckles at your wrecked state.

"Go on, babygirl. Let go for me," he purrs.

And just like that, you shatter again. Pleasure whites out your vision, your ears ringing as your body convulses around him. He fucks you through it, chasing his own release before finally spilling into you with a deep moan. For a moment, all you hear is the panting of heavy breaths—then he collapses on top of you, pulling you into a crushing embrace.

"Mingyu! You're heavy!" you complain halfheartedly.

"Don't care," he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.

You sigh but don't push him off. His weight is oddly comforting, like a human-weighted blanket.

"…How did you even get loose?" you murmur after a beat.

"Was never tied up in the first place, baby," he admits with a laugh, fingers carding through your hair.

"What?!" Your eyes widen. "So all that struggling against the ropes—"

"—was just for show," he grins. "You put so much effort into tying me up. Didn't wanna ruin your fun."

You pout. "I'll get you next time, Kim Mingyu."

"Good luck with that, babygirl," he teases.

"At least tell me you liked your present," you huff.

"Loved it," he says, pressing another kiss to your lips. "Put on quite the performance for me."

"You better be grateful. I worked hard on it," you mutter petulantly.

"Mmhm, thank you, my precious baby," he coos, sealing your lips in a slow, deep kiss.

You grin against his mouth, whispering, "Happy Birthday, Gyu."

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina @theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @gyuhao365 @mysticfairies @cherrylovescheol @cookiearmy @4shypotato @lxnnrobin @sashaaahh @xueisaaa17 @aeriyell @eshia16 @dreamingofpcy @archivistworld @kyeomiis @iwannakisspoutycheol @foxiesgf24 @livelaughloveseventeen @kwanniehae @ateez-atiny380 @junnhuisworld @horangipower17 @cheolsbb26 @aliiikareed @jennwonwoo @cherrybb96 @smiileflower @yumyumcoo

[dontsh0vethesun]

i’m hungry, i hope you feed me

masterlist

my username used to be just-a-torn-up-masterpiece

natasha romanoff x reader

summary: carol and valkyrie bring you a bottle of an asgardian aphrodisiac, you decide to put it to use

18+: sex potion?, smut; edging, fingering, face riding, oral, overstimulation, slight degradation, masturbation, underwear used as a gag, lots of biting nom nom

a/n: please let me know if you want a part two where valkarol join in too because i’m so tempted 🙏

word count: 2.4k | song for the vibes - ‘desire’ by meg myers

Carol and Valkyrie sat across from you, recounting their recent visit to Asgard whilst you leisurely sipped on drinks; the conversation was always easy and the four of you had made it a habit to spend your evenings together whenever you could. 

As the evening bled into the night, you were gulping the last mouthfuls of your drinks before you parted ways; Carol reached beneath her seat, pulling a bag into view. 

“So, we brought you a couple of gifts,” she spoke with a mischievous smile pulling at her lips. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you returned, eyeing the bag she pushed across the table. 

“We know,” Valkyrie returned. “But we always do. Plus, we know you get sulky if you don’t get a souvenir.” 

“I do not,” you gasped, finding three pairs of questioning eyes peering back at you. “Okay, fine, I like gifts - is that so wrong?” 

“I, for one, think you deserve gifts every single day,” Natasha grinned, poking your side teasingly. 

“Open it then,” Carol groaned, growing impatient with her excitement. 

You eagerly took her command and reached in, grabbing something from the bottom of the paper bag and immediately smiling at the sight of it. 

“Is this what I think it is?” 

“If you think it’s a piece of rock from Aladna, then yes,” Carol laughed, leaning back in her chair as you marvelled at it. 

“You got me space rock - finally.” 

“Well, considering you ask me to bring you some every time I go to space, I figured I’d actually make good on my promise.” 

“The other gift was my idea,” Valkyrie smirked. Natasha reached in this time, wrapping her hand around the neck of a bottle. She peered at the label for a moment before laughing slightly. 

“I’m not sure we need this,” she cockily murmured, handing the glass bottle over to you to read. 

“Don’t knock it before you try it, Nat,” Carol grinned in return. 

“An Asgardian aphrodisiac?” you asked, feeling your cheeks heat up bashfully. You missed the way the three of them exchanged looks at how adorably shy you can get. 

“It’s strong stuff, have fun ladies,” Carol laughed. 

“And let us know how it goes.” 

— 

Despite agreeing you wouldn’t use it - not any time soon, at least - only a few days later, you were sat with two shot glasses in front of you. Natasha poured the pale pink liquid until they were full to the brim before sitting in front of you on the bed. 

“I have a wager for you,” she murmured, a playful smirk pulling at her lips. You looked at her curiously for her to continue. “A competition to see who can abstain the longest.”

“You’re setting yourself up for a loss already,” you grinned. 

“Mm, I don’t know,” she cooed, stroking the back of her fingers along your cheek to feel how easily they heat up with her attention. “You get pretty desperate. And you’ll be so pathetically eager for my attention - begging me to get you off.”

“Well, what does the winner get?” you huffed, looking away from her before you gave in before the game even began. 

“Total control,” she returned. “If you win, you can do whatever you want with me - I’ll do anything to you that you beg for. And, if I win,” she began, pretending to ponder on her response. “I think I’ll keep that to myself for now.” 

“Then let the best woman win,” you answered, passing her a glass whilst you lifted yours to your lips, waiting to drink the liquor down at the same time. 

— 

Twenty minutes later your back burned against the headboard of the bed; you’d built a wall of pillows between your bodies whilst you distracted yourselves with a movie. 

Every inch of your skin was on fire, your veins pulsed with need. Within thirty minutes, your shirt had been discarded with a petulant huff, hoping to cool off under the light breeze coming through the window. Your core throbbed and begged for some attention - some sort of release - but the smugness on Natasha’s face each time you squirmed in your seat only fuelled your competitive streak. 

The movie wasn’t even halfway through and you’d both stripped down to your underwear to combat the prickling heat the dreaded drink had caused. Natasha’s neck shone with beads of sweat, and you thought of dragging your tongue along her skin to taste it. She was so close that you could pull her into you with ease, pushing her hand between your legs; the desperation made you dizzy. 

She looked over at you when she felt you staring, her eyes dark and lust-blown, pupils wide and cheeks pink. Her breathing faltered beneath her desire and her fists grasped at the sheets to keep herself from touching you. 

“You giving up yet?” she rasped, desperately wishing you would so that this awful competition could be over. 

“No.” Your voice was breathy, it made her need you more. She could see your thighs clenching tightly together, your hips beginning to subtly buck upwards. 

“I can see you need me to touch you,” she mused, licking her lips. “I could make you feel so good, baby. I could give you what you need.”

You let her words linger. The way your cunt throbbed and ached was almost painful, your hand began its descent without any thought. You were so close to bypassing the waistband of your underwear until a hand wrapped itself around your wrist. 

“I don’t think so, sweetheart,” she mocked with a laugh. “Just admit defeat.”

You’d lasted 45 minutes. Surely, that was long enough to keep her from holding this victory over your head. You couldn’t wait a minute more. 

“Fine,” you grumbled, rushing over to plant your knees on either side of her, instantly pushing your clothed cunt against her thigh. You gasped at the mere contact and gave in to the kiss she dragged you into. Never have you felt a kiss so heated with passion, a newfound arousal made for sloppy kisses, teeth clashing and hands groping at anything they could reach. 

You felt as though you were on the brink of combustion, teetering on the edge with just a push against her; each nerve ending in your body was alight, frayed and ready to spark at a mere glimpse of heat. Natasha moaned into your mouth, grinding against your knee as best she could. You could feel the growing dampness of her underwear. 

She pulled you closer and closer to release; your body twitched and bucked with reckless abandon until she pulled away just at the precipice. You whined as she lifted you out of her lap, positioning you on the bed as she shuffled away to kneel before you. 

She kept her eyes on your panting form as she slipped her underwear away from her, putting her soaked cunt on display,

“Don’t think I forgot about our deal, honey,” she breathed, tossing her bra to one side, making a show of the soft pinching of her pert nipples. 

“But I-”

“Mm mm,” she tutted with a shake of her head. “No talking. And no touching.” To keep you silent, she forced her underwear past your lips, and you slackened your jaw to obey. “Patience is a virtue, little slut; good things come to those who wait, so sit back and look pretty, and I’ll fuck you when I’m done.” 

You fisted at the bedsheets to refrain yourself and, despite every muscle begging for the opposite, you kept as still as you could. She wasted no time before her fingers danced over her clit, swollen and sensitive, pulling a grunt of desperate arousal from her throat with the slightest pressure. Her hips rolled, her digits thrust into her core, and her head leaned backwards.  

It was the most desperate you’d ever seen her; a pure ravenous streak coursed through her and you could see it in the fervent movement of her digits. Each rub of her thumb against her made her gasp a moan, and her body flushed deep pink with need. 

You could hear how soaked she was - you could see it dripping to her knuckles - you wanted to wrap your lips around them. A choked moan fell from her lips as she came, you’d never heard her make such a cry of hunger before but it only made you need her more. 

“Fuck, I wanted to make you wait a little longer, but I can’t,” she sighed through heaving breaths. “I’ve never needed you so bad - I feel like I’m starving for you.” 

You couldn’t even utter a reply before her lips were claiming yours, hungry like she was parched and you were her only source of salvation. Your bra and underwear were soon discarded and your skin pressed against hers in a burning heat, the scent of sweat and sex filling the air. She knelt between your legs, trailing her fingers down to swipe through your folds; she smirked against you at how drenched you were and brought the shining digits to her mouth to lick them clean. 

Natasha’s eyes were primal when she looked at you, sparing no time before she shifted on the bed, licking a stripe through your cunt. It was messy and sloppy, each suck to your clit and flick of her tongue; the hand that wasn’t roughly digging into the flesh of your hip was buried between her legs; she practically whined against your sex whilst she humped her own hand with pathetic need.

She felt you near the edge of release and, for her amusement only, she pulled away. She left you hopelessly balancing on the precipice of relief whilst she came again, sinking her teeth into your inner thigh so roughly you’re sure they drew blood.

“Nat, I-“

“No. Just do as I say.”

You obeyed, of course, somehow enduring three more waves of relief being ripped away from your grasp. You ached and your eyes grew tearful with how much you just needed to be allowed to cum. Your jaw ached too from the way your teeth had been tightly clenched, biting into the underwear she decided to shove past your lips again when all you did was whimper and murmur unintelligible grumbles of disapproval. She’d allowed herself the freedom of rutting against her hand, soaking the duvet beneath her, whilst simultaneously leaving you in painful purgatory. She’d lapped at you for so long that your core burned with pain, clenching around nothing with tear-stained cheeks. 

After what felt like an eternity, she pulled away from you completely; her lips were plump and shining with your slick, stray hairs clung to her forehead and the rest was mussed up from the aimless tugging of your hands. 

“Such a pretty little slut,” she mused, panting almost animalistically as she cupped your jaw and pulled her underwear from your mouth. “Such an obedient girl.” The Asgardian elixir still had her pupils wide; both of you continued to thrum with desire, hearts thudding. 

Despite the want for attention between your legs, you couldn’t withhold your excitement when she crawled up your body, gripping onto the headboard as she lowered her cunt to your lips. The taste of her coated your lips immediately, soaked and hot and ready for you to devour. You moaned at the flavour, letting her grind onto your face with mindless pushes of her hips, burying your tongue deep within her. With the way you were so sex drunk, you ached to consume her entirely, dig into her as far as you could until the end of you and the beginning of her was too difficult to distinguish. 

She moaned at the feeling, pulsing around the muscle of your tongue, revelling in any feeling of friction applied to her sensitive bud that she could get. Your lips latched around her, messy and unbecoming and your nails clawed at her thighs whilst your own clenched as tightly as they could. 

“Fuck, you’re doing so good,” she grunted out above you. “Make me cum, baby - God ‘m so close.”

The eager, desirous pleas spurred you on until she came onto your lips. You swallowed down each drop she gave and pressed soft kisses against her as she came down from the high. 

“Nat, I need you, please,” you begged. “I feel like I’m gonna explode.” 

She laughed at your pouted mumbles, kissing along your jaw with bites into the flesh, stroking her fingers down your body until they slid through your folds. The pads of her fingers were instantly soaked, easily pushing into your wanting hole. 

“You’ve been so patient, honey,” she whispered, languidly moving her fingers with the heel of her palm nudging against you. You gasped at the sensitivity, twitching up into her touch. It was soft and gentle; she pampered your abused cunt with tender attention, letting you fall over the edge as soon as you needed to. 

Natasha knew you needed more - even she longed for more despite how many times she’d brought herself to climax - so she kept her attention on you. Your body was littered with marks, anywhere her teeth could reach had grooves and bruises from her bites. She thought of pleasing you forever; staying splayed on the sheets for as long as she lived until you were both worn out and spent. 

The air was filled with sounds of her fingers fucking into you, hoarse moans from the back of your throat and pants for breath like primal animals. The breeze didn’t cool your skin anymore but you were so wrapped up in one another that the sticky warmth didn’t matter.

You came again, and again until you had to push her hand away with a wince at just a ghost of a touch. You needed more but you couldn’t take it, she pulled away with a loving kiss to your lips. 

She crawled from the bed wordlessly, legs wobbling as she padded away, returning moments later with a glass of water for you to share. She took a sip before handing it to you, sitting next to you with kisses pressed against your shoulder as you drank. 

“Carol and Valkyrie are evil,” you grumbled between gulps. 

“I didn’t think I’d still be so horny after all that,” Natasha answered with a laugh. 

“I know,” you sighed with a mirrored chuckle. “How about I return the favour - we can take shifts until it wears off.” 

“Or until we pass out,” she smiled, already dropping the emptied glass to the floor to pull you on top of her.

[wandasgirl69]

A simple request—

Paring(s): Wanda Maximoff X female!reader

Summary: After a long, exhausting day, all you want is to unwind in your girlfriend's arms.

word count: 1.9K

tags l content: established relationship, smut, breeding kink, mommy kink, cockwarming, breastfeeding, induced lactation, sub reader, Wanda has a cock, abandoned movie lol.

A/N: I'm excited and nervous to post this lol, it's just a short drabble. I hope you guys enjoy! (and yes, it's about me and my girl— again.)

The day had drained you completely. Endless lectures, overwhelming assignments—your mind felt like it was on the verge of shutting down. As you stepped into your apartment, the familiar scent of home instantly soothed you—a mix of fresh linen, vanilla, and something distinctly Wanda. With a deep sigh, you dropped your backpack by the door, kicking off your shoes without caring where they landed.

All you wanted—no, all you needed—was to unwind. Just you, Wanda, and a movie. That was your simple request.

As you made your way into the bedroom, Wanda lay sprawled on the bed, a steaming cup of tea cradled in her hands, her crimson-painted nails tapping idly against the ceramic. A book rested open in her lap, though she seemed more focused on the warmth seeping through her fingers than on the words before her. The soft glow of the bedside lamp bathed her in warm light, making her look almost ethereal.

"Hi, my love," she murmured, her voice like a gentle caress.

Just hearing those words made something in your chest loosen. The tension that had gripped you all day dissipated, if only for a moment. You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding and walked over to the bed, practically collapsing onto it.

Wanda shut her book, setting it aside as she turned toward you, concern flickering in her eyes.

"Long day?"

You groaned, pressing your face into the pillows. "The longest. I don’t want to think, don’t want to talk about assignments, and definitely don’t want to see another professor’s face for at least a week." You rolled onto your side, gazing up at her.

"I just need to watch a movie. I need to turn my brain off, cuddle under the blankets, and just exist for a while. That’s all I want."

Understanding flashed across her face, and without hesitation, she nodded. "Okay, baby. That sounds perfect."

She reached for the remote, shifting closer to you. "What do you want to watch?"

Your lips curved into a small smile as you answered without hesitation. "Rom-com."

Wanda chuckled, shaking her head fondly. "I should've guessed."

"You should've," you teased, nudging her arm. "They're the best. They’re funny, they’re sweet, and they make everything feel a little bit lighter."

With an amused sigh, Wanda scrolled through Netflix, already knowing you wouldn’t settle for anything else. "Alright, one predictable, overly romantic, cliché-filled movie coming right up."

"Masterpiece," you corrected, grinning as you reached for her.

Before you could say anything else, Wanda set the remote down and gently pulled you into her arms, shifting you so you rested against her front, nestled between her legs. The warmth of her body instantly soothed you as she wrapped her arms around your waist, holding you close.

"Are you comfortable?" she murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. You hummed in response, melting further into her embrace. The movie played on and she continued to caress you, her hands slowly making their way under your shirt. 

"Wanda" you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. 

"Yes, baby?" she asked, before  nipping at your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. 

“We’re supposed to be relaxing,” you mumbled. She chuckled softly, her breath warm against your ear.

“This is relaxing, no?” You let out a shaky breath, nodding as you surrendered to her touch, letting the movie fade into the background. She continued to explore your body, her fingers trailing along your stomach and then up your ribs, teasing the underside of your breasts. You let out a quiet whimper, arching into her touch.

"So responsive for me," Wanda whispered, her voice low and husky. her slender fingers eventually made their way into your shorts, slowly dipping into your folds. She let out a groan at the wetness she found there, her fingers parting your folds and sliding into your entrance.

"Fuck, baby," she breathed, her voice thick with arousal. "You’re so wet."

She began pumping her fingers slowly, eliciting a moan from you. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more friction. But then suddenly, it stopped, and a whimper escaped your lips. You opened your eyes to see her smirking at you, a playful glint in her eyes.

"What happened to relaxing?" she teased as she removed her hand from your shorts and brought her fingers up to her mouth, sucking them clean. The sight made you shudder, and you could feel the heat building between your legs.

"I- I am relaxed," you managed to stutter out.

"Mmhmm," Wanda hummed, her lips curving into a smirk. "Let's see if we can help you relax a little more, shall we?" her cock pressed against your back and she ground herself into you, making sure that you could feel how hard she was.

"Yes please," you breathed, squirming slightly as she continued to tease you.

"but we need to focus on the movie" she reminded you as she trailed her hands up and down your body.

"It's hard to focus on the movie when you're touching me like that," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Wanda's chuckle was playful, "Maybe we can multitask," she suggested, her breath hot against your ear. "We can watch the movie, and I can... help you relax at the same time."

"I think that can be arranged," you breathed

"Shhh” she murmured as she pulled your shorts down as well as her own. 

"warm up my cock, hm?" A groan escaped your lips as she guided her tip to your cunt, your wet folds allowing her to push right in. The feeling of her stretching you open was almost too much, and you felt yourself trembling against her. She wrapped her arms around you and pulled you flush against her chest as the movie continued to play in the background. 

Wanda made sure to keep a steady pace of small, shallow thrusts, just enough to tease you without being too distracting. Every so often, she would buck her hips, eliciting a soft moan from you as her cock hit that perfect spot inside you.

"You're doing such a good job, keeping mommy's cock nice and warm." Your response was immediate, a whimper escaping your lips as your hips rocked back into hers, driven by a primal need to be closer, to be filled completely. 

"Please, Mommy," you whispered, your voice a faint, desperate plea that lingered in the air as you rested your head back against her shoulder. 

"I want you to breed me." As soon as the words left your lips, Wanda's entire demeanor changed. Her eyes, which had been gleaming with a mixture of desire and playfulness, suddenly burned with an intense urgency. She pulled you closer, her arms wrapping tightly around you as she deepened her thrusts.

Her movements became more frantic, more desperate, as if she was driven by a singular focus to give you what you wanted. The air was filled with the sound of her ragged breathing, her gasps and moans mingling with the creaks and groans of the bed as she pushed up against you with increasing intensity. 

The movie, which had been playing in the background, was forgotten, the sounds and images on the screen fading into insignificance as Wanda's actions became the sole focus of your attention. You felt yourself getting lost in the sensation of her body moving against yours, the friction and heat building as she drove herself deeper and deeper into you. 

Wanda's hands were everywhere, grasping and clutching at your skin as if she was trying to pull you closer, to merge your bodies into one. Her lips were on your neck, your shoulder, your ear, her breath hot and urgent.

As her movements continued, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Your breath came in short, sharp gasps.

"That's it, baby," she whispered. "Take mommy's cock. Take it all." Her hands reached up and cupped your breasts, her thumbs brushing over your nipples. Her fingers lightly pinched, sending a spark of pleasure through your body. You moaned, a soft, breathy sound, as your hips instinctively bucked back into hers.

You were on the verge of losing control, and you knew it. 

"I'm going to—" you whispered, your voice barely audible as the sensations overwhelmed you. The words trailed off, lost in the tidal wave of pleasure that threatened to consume you.

"Cum, baby," Wanda grunted. "Cum all over my cock. I'm going to fill you up." As she spoke, her body tensed, and you felt her release inside you, a warm, gentle flood that seemed to never end. She didn’t stop her movements, instead increasing them to ensure you took every drop of her seed. 

You cried out, your body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. Wanda held you close, her thrusts slowing as you came down from your high and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the two of you panting, struggling to catch your breath. 

"Ohh, my love, you were perfect," she whispered, her lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck as she pressed soft, gentle kisses. With a gentle movement, she shifted your body, turning you around to face her, her cock still nestled deep within you— exactly where you both loved it to be. As she held you, you whimpered a little, your body squirming subtly to press against hers more intimately. 

Wanda's arms tightened around you, holding you close, the steady rise and fall of her breath soothed you. Your body felt heavy with exhaustion, a weariness settling in as you melted against her.

“Sleepy, baby?” Wanda murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from your damp forehead.

A small hum left your lips as you shifted slightly, seeking more of her comfort.

“Mama…” you breathed, half-asleep but still aware enough to know what you wanted.

“I’m here, my love,” she reassured you, tucking you even closer. “What do you need?”

Your fingers curled against her skin as you whispered, 

“Milky.”

Wanda’s chest rose with a quiet chuckle, her amusement laced with tenderness. 

“Oh, my sweet girl,” she murmured, adjusting her position so she could take off her shirt. She bared the soft curves of her breasts to you, her warmth and scent enveloping you in familiar safety. Her hands guided your head back to her chest, where the sweet aroma of her milk mingled with the lingering notes of vanilla that were uniquely hers.

As you latched on, the steady, pulsing rhythm of her heartbeat filled your ears, lulling you further into the depths of relaxation. Wanda’s fingers twisted through your hair, scratching your head absentmindedly. 

“That’s it, baby,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Just relax, I’ve got you.”

The gentle pull of warmth, the rhythmic rise and fall of her breath, the way her arms held you so securely—it was all you needed. 

The weight of the day faded, the last remnants of tension melting away as your body sank fully into her embrace. She shifted slightly, her fingers gently brushing against the corner of your mouth to wipe away a stray drop of milk that had lingered there. And with a gentle motion, she wrapped the blankets more securely around you both. Even as she started to drift off, she was aware of your tight walls still wrapped around her cock. 

"Sweet dreams, my love," she whispered, her voice barely a breath, as the warmth of her heartbeat pressed against your cheek. You felt her hold you just a little tighter.

[kitten4sannie]

backstage back shots with san ♡

a/n: listennnnn im still fighting with writer’s block and it’s winning i’m not even gonna lie to you but …… COACHELLA SAN. i wrote this in twenty minutes so please don’t expect a full fledged masterpiece TT that being enjoy the brainrot babes <333

w.c: around 500 words

warnings: reader’s older in this (she’s their manager shjsdh), dom! san, possessiveness, dirty talk, semi public sex, tit play, unprotected sex, back shot

Once San left that stage, he could feel his heart pounding against his glistening chest, his ears still ringing from the intense surge of adrenaline outlining his wired brain and body, and he could still hear their fans chanting and cheering for them, even as he made his way through the hectic backstage area. All of it concocted an invigorating mix of exhilaration inside San that he couldn’t shake. It almost bordered arousal.

It didn’t help when he saw you, Ateez’s precious manager, opening your arms up to him for a hug with a bright smile on your face, tears in your eyes, and an endless bout of praise leaving your pretty lips.

“I’m so, so proud of you, San…” you whispered into his ear, unaware of the state he was in, until you felt something hard pressing into your lower abdomen.

“How proud, Manager-nim?” he whispered back, running his fingers down along your waist, squeezing into them enough to make you squeak. “Do I deserve a reward?”

“A r-reward? I mean, of course you do, but…right here? Right now?”

San slowly led you backwards until you both were just barely out of sight of the event’s employees and your beloved coworkers. He rubbed his thumbs gently over your hips, angling his head down to see the way his hardened cock pressed into your body through his designer pants. “Right here…right now…”

You gulped, knowing everything about the situation was wrong, but you couldn’t help but to give in, like every time before.

-

San had you just how he liked, with your bare ass on full display for him, watching it bounce each time he pushed himself into you, groaning at the sensation of your hot cunt swallowing his cock up like you were made for him. You practically were, considering the way you always spread your legs for him, even as his boss. But, how could you say no?

San leaned forward, his bare, heated chest pressing heavily against your back, his throbbing cock hitting your sweet spot even easier at this new angle, resting his chin on your shoulder. He looked at you through the corner of his eyes, his lips quirked up into a knowing smirk. “Hey, Manager-nim. Whose pussy is this?”

“I-it’s yours, San,” you breathed out, feeling your cunt begin to squeeze around his length, your legs starting to grow weak underneath you.

“Yeah?” San perused, running his hands up under your disheveled clothes to grope at your tits, squeezing them in between his thick fingers, flicking and pulling at your nipples just to hear you try to hold back your pretty moans. “This cunt is all mine? Mine to fuck raw and fill with my load? Mine to use whenever I’d like, huh?”

Just as San’s filthy words left his mouth, you felt him go into overdrive, fucking into you so hard, you could hardly catch your breath, clawing at the walls of the backstage as an attempt to keep from completely losing yourself in the immense pleasure. “Yes, yes, yes…!” you cried out, knowing from the pleased groans and growls coming from San that you were creaming yourself on his rapidly moving cock.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl. You’re so filthy, Manager-nim…” San exhaled against your ear, dragging his tongue up along it, just as his body began to shudder and his rough thrusts were instead replaced by the slow, concentrated rolling of his hips. “Let me make you even filthier, okay?”

You looked back just in time to see him pull out and rest his thick cock against your ass, admiring his flushed, sweat-covered face, the way he could barely keep his eyes open, and the way his blazer was falling off of one of his broad shoulders. You didn’t look down until you began to feel something hot covering your lower back, watching as he painted the rest of your exposed skin and disheveled clothes with white.

San simply smiled back at you, running his fingers through his glistening hair to keep it from falling into his upturned eyes. “Thank you for the reward, Manager-nim. I’ll work even harder during the next stage because of you.”

You couldn’t help but smile back. “That’s wonderful to hear, San.” You shivered, suddenly feeling San’s load drip down your back and along your ass. “Now, if you don’t mind, could you help me clean this mess up?”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[kissenturine]

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐀 boothill x m!reader — 3.3k words, not proofread, minors do not interact

TO NOTE: mechanic!reader, sub!reader, reader gives boothill a dick, reader takes away his censorship, mean dom!boothill, maybe ooc!boothill, fingering, heavy heavy dirty talk, boothill calls reader a whore & slut, boothill steps on reader's dick, blowjobs (boothill receiving), degradation. lmk if i missed anything!!

KAI SAYS: boy am i down bad for this little space cowboy

As a hardworking mechanic, you often pride yourself on your accomplishments. You—like any decent one—had many. From what you worked with to what you managed to fix, there were many things that could be considered impressive to a crowd.

None of them, however, were as impressive as the time you managed to remove Boothill’s censorship and give him back what he called: “a missing piece of his heart.”

Your dimly lit mechanic shop is cluttered with tools amongst other sharp things. Scattered about every flat surface usable is a screw, nail, wire, metal board—anything you could make use of. In the centre of the workshop is the only real space you kept clean.

Sitting in the middle of the room is a large, metallic workbench. It’s impressive, to say the least. Hooked up to an uncountable number of wires, switches and knobs decorating the sides, tools hanging from hooks, everything about it is a sight to behold.

What’s more impressive—even more magnificent—is the man sitting on top of it.

With his legs sprawled out and his head idly lolling from side to side, Boothill himself is a man to bless the eyes. The way his body worked, how each wire and sensor inside his cyborg body worked in tandem with each other to create the masterpiece that was him.

Of course, you only think like that because you’re a mechanic. You know how hard it is to put together a synesthetic body part, let alone a whole human being.

To people who don’t know the complexities of machinery, they might just think he’s a handsome cyborg. And really, they weren’t wrong. Whoever created his body, whether it was Boothill himself or another person, was quite the artist with the way they’d managed to create Boothill as a cyborg and still leave in his human charm.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Boothill grumbles, pulling you very quickly out of your thoughts. “Ya gonna continue starin’ or ya gonna actually help a guy out?” He waved at the dent in his hip, a noticeable cave to the metal plate.

“Yes, yes.” You huff. While you did find the cyborg part of Boothill impressive, his personality… not so much. He was endearing at times, but mostly he could be a pain in the ass.

A lot of the time, he’d get himself scratched and broken just to come back to you only when he’s on the brink of shutting down. Or, he’d either only come to you with the smallest, most irrelevant and easy-to-fix problems known to man.

His current state being the latter.

You make your way carefully over to Boothill, dropping to your knees beside the workbench to inspect the minimal damage done to his hip. “It’s… not even that bad.” You murmur, eyes darting up to his. “You could probably play it off as a hip dip or something.”

“Nope!” Boothill grunts, moving his metallic hand to tap against the metal of his hip. “Not happenin’ cutie. Need this body o’ mine to be in tip-top condition for my next bounty.” He grins widely, stretching his legs in front of him as he rests his arms back behind his head.

You only roll your eyes in response, already pulling out your screwdriver to replace Boothill’s so-called “broken” hip. “Whatever you say then…” You grumble, working away at the screws on the plate.

“Thanks, sweet cheeks.” Boothill hums, absentmindedly picking at the metal of his shoulder.

You wince at the nickname, your eyes shifting from where you’re working to Boothill’s face. “What’s with the nicknames…?” You say, voicing your curiosity. “We’ve known each other for what, six months now?” You raise an eyebrow at him before you continue. “Six months, and we're not even dating yet you always seem to use some form of a nickname.”

“Well,” Boothill hums, “the guy that made this good ol’ body of mine decided I would benefit from losing a thing or two. Those bein’ my ability to swear and of course my clock.”

“Your… clock?” You give him a confused look as you screw the metal back into place, finishing off his new hip.

“No, no, cutie, not an actual clock.” Boothill rolls his eyes. “My, uh, manhood, ya know?”

“Your…” You trail off. “Oh.”

He grins at you, opening his legs widely on the table. “Look if ya want, I got nothin’ to hide down there.” He gives you a wink before leaning further into your workbench.

You glance down at his crotch and see that it is, indeed, very flat. I guess what he said is true then…

You’re about to pick up your tools when you hear Boothill call for you, his name dropping from his lips. “Hey, uh, you don’t happen to have any o’ those synesthetic clocks, do ya?”

You give Boothill a blank look. While you did have a few lying around, as per a customer who was willing to pay a hefty price of seven million credits for one, you didn’t think Boothill would want one.

“Yeah…” You eventually respond. “I do.”

Boothill’s eyes widen as if he wasn’t expecting you to actually say yes. “Oh, mother fudgin’!” He says before eagerly jumping off the workbench. “Please,” he begs, “ya gotta hook me up with one! Haven’t felt it in so long, ‘s like a piece of my heart’s been missing!”

You cringe at his choice of terminology before looking up at the pleading man. “Well, they cost a hefty price—”

“I’m willin’ t’pay!” Boothill cries, the same pleading tone still present in his voice. “Please, anythin’ for my clock back!”

“I—y’know what, fine.” You grumble, not having the energy to think up an argument. You wave your hand at your workbench. “Sit on the edge while I grab one. I’m just gonna assume you want the biggest size.”

You hear the faint rumble of Boothills laugh. “Oh, darlin’ you know me so well!”

You roll your eyes, pulling out a key to unlock a drawer where you kept your synesthetic… manhoods. You eye them all, cautiously taking one on the very left end before closing the drawer and going back up to Boothill.

“So.” You say, holding the synesthetic member awkwardly in front of Boothill. “Eight inches, pretty thick, the colour an’ design of the metal goes pretty well with your cyborg parts, I think it matches you.”

“Oh-ho-ho!” Boothill grins, his sharp teeth shining under the light. “Now that's what I’m talking about. Can’t wait to have my fudgin’ shift back.”

You roll your eyes at the censorship before tapping Boothill’s knee. “Spread your legs, gotta get to you if you want me to actually put this on.”

Boothill gives you a teasing look and you already know what he’s about to comment on. “If you wanted to see my new duck in action, ya could’ve jus’ asked.” He grins and you roll your eyes again. Just what you predicted.

“Shut up and spread your legs.” You say, a harsh tone evident in your voice. This time Boothill complies, his knees spreading as you once again take your place, kneeling on the floor—this time between his legs.

Slowly, you unscrew the metal panel on Boohill’s crotch area.

Once it’s fully out, you take a peek into the hole you just opened, trying to grasp what you’re working with. You puff out your cheeks, sighing as you peer into the hole between Boothill’s legs.

There’s an assortment of jumbled wires, a few switches, and—is that a remote control? With two fingers, you manage to pry your way into the cavity in Boothill’s crotch. Lithly and carefully, you pull the remote from the little clasp it was stuck in before sliding it out.

You inspect it cautiosly, taking note of how there’s only one singular switch on the flat of it. You contemplate flipping it, but then it crosses your mind that touching random things that came from inside Boothill’s body wasn’t the best idea.

Setting the remote to the side for later, you continue your work with Boothill’s new member.

Carefully, very, very carefully, you attach each wire to the base of Boothill’s new appendage, making sure everything is kept neat and tidy. With a quick glance up at Boothill, you can instantly tell he’s at least somewhat relaxed.

“Boothill.” You call, tapping the inside of his metal thigh. “I’m gonna connect the synesthesia now, so you might get a bit…” You cough awkwardly. “Aroused… But just ignore it and try not to like—y’know, cum all over my face.”

Boothill grins down at you, once again flashing you his sharp teeth. “Don’t worry, pretty boy, I’ve got some self-control.”

You nod your head, cautiously pushing the two wires together. The instant you twist them into place, you hear Boothill let out a loud groan. “Fudge, I missed this.” He murmurs, his dick twitching to life right in front of your face.

The sight, being able to watch as the new tip of his metal cock twitches and lifts, sends a shiver down your spine—one you chose to ignore as much as possible. Your hands go back to his shaft, gently pressing a screw in and Boothill lets out a loud hiss, his dick twitching in your hand.

“Darlin’ you’re teasin’ me.” He grunts before peering down at you through half-lidded eyes.

You don’t say anything, making sure to work carefully at his dick, making sure everything is functioning. As you trail your hand along the underside of his shaft, Boothill’s thigh twitches, pushing against your head and forcing your face closer to his cock.

You let out a squeal of surprise, eyes darting up to Boothill, whose face is flushed a warm pink with his teeth pulled between his lips. “Didn’t know this would affect you this much.” You murmur, a playful edge in your voice. You hate to admit it, but you’re already half-hard from being so close to Boothill and working on him in such an… intimate way.

“Shut it, darling.’” The cyborg grunts, and you laugh at the way his hands curl into fists beside him. “Haven’t felt like this in a while.”

“I can tell.” You hum, tapping his tip a few times and smirking at the loud groan that leaves his lips.

“Fudging—” Boothill grunts, his hand grabbing tightly at your shoulder as you stand up. “Such a fudgin’ tease, aren’t ya, sweetie?”

“Dunno what you're talking about Boothill.” You say, feigning innocence. Sitting up from your kneeling position you grab the remote. “Any idea what this is?” You question, showing it to Boothill.

He eyes it carefully before shrugging. “Nah, got no clue.”

“Well, that’s a shame.” You huff. “Cause I found it inside you.”

Boothill gapes at you, his jaw going slack. “Inside me!?” He roars. “And you just—just took it out!? What if I need that to live?!”

“Relax, cowboy,” you groan, his loud voice getting on your nerves slightly, “it wasn’t connected to anything, and you seem pretty fine now.”

Boothill glares at you seemingly having forgotten about his rock-hard erection standing tall against his metal abs. “Give it here.” He says, making a ‘give’ motion with his fingers. He practically snatches it from your hand the instant you’re within arm's reach, his hand grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer as he grabs at the remote. “Hmm…” He hums, inspecting it in his hands. Slowly, he slides the panel down, revealing two short words that make the two of you gasp.

“Censorship… Control.” Boothill reads, and you instantly snatch the remote into your hands.

“Hey!” Boothill yells! “Wait a darn minute—I need that!”

“No,” you respond flatly, “you don’t. Whoever built in that censorship must’ve done it for a reason—”

“Yeah!” Boothill grunts. “To annoy the fudge outa me!” He growls again, desperately trying to reach for the remote again. “Oh, fudgin’ give it! What’ll it take for you to give me the darn thing?!”

You grin.

Finally, he asked.

“I think a good enough payment would be to test out this new dick of yours.”

Boothill’s expression turns from anger and annoyance to a smirk in the blink of an eye. His hands are no longer grabbing at the remote, and instead resting on your waist. “Oh?” He coos. “Didn’t know you liked me that much.” He smirks, leaning closer to whisper in your ear. “But a test drive would be so much more fun if I had my swearin’ back. Think of all the dirty lil’ things I could say to you, hm?”

Your face flushes as you feel Boothill’s cool breath fan over your ear. “I bet you'd really like if I turned it off, be able to swear to your heart’s content” You do your best to stand your ground, ignoring the blood that rushes to your cock and the way your pants grow tight. “But I think I can think of a better way to put your mouth to use.”

Boothill growls lowly, his grip moving from your waist to your ass to give it a harsh squeeze. “Turn it off and I might just show you what this mouth of mine is capable of.”

“Hmph.” You grunt. “Fine. Let's see how dirty this mouth of yours can get, Boothill." You whisper, your warm breath fanning over his chest. With that, you’re flicking his censorship off, once again leaving Boothill free to say whatever he wants.

“Atta boy.” He growls.

Boothill’s eyes narrow as you flick the remote, effectively ending his censorship. Your face flushes, watching his lips pull into a wide grin as he grips your ass, tugging down your pants and leaving them dropped at your ankles. “Don’t worry whore, I’ll show you just how good I am.” Boothill growls, his voice dropping an octave. “I’ll have you screaming my name while you’re wrapped ‘round my cock.”

You don’t say anything, only moving to press your face further into his neck.

“I’ll tell you every dirty word, every filthy thought that crosses my mind while I pound into your tight fuckin’ hole.” Boothill groans, starting to tug down your boxers too.

And suddenly, like he only now could process the extent that he could speak, Boothill is tugging you away from him only to press his lips harshly into you, murmuring into the kiss as he does. “You little slut, I’m gonna fuck you till you’re stuffed fuckin’ full of my dick. You’ll be drenched in your own cum, worshiping my cock, begging for more.” He lets out a loud groan, pulling away. “And don’t think you can fuckin’ hide, ‘cause I’ll take you right here an’ now, on your stupid workbench.”

A wicked grin spreads across his face, watching the sight of your absolute arousal dripping down your dick.

“Look at you, so fuckin’ hard.” He wraps his palm around your cock, giving it a sharp tug before pulling his hand away only to return with a sharp slap against your tip. “Bet you’d pull your pants down for anyone on the street, like a common whore.”

You whine, knees buckling at the slap. You collapse onto Boothill’s chest, letting out a plethora of pathetic sounds as you do.

“Aww.” Boothill coos, lifting your chin to face him. “This weak already?”

He grips your body, getting off your workbench only to lay you on top of it. You lay flat on your tummy, with you face pressed into the thin padding of the workbench.

“You’re gonna be a good boy now, an’ take what I give you, ‘kay?” Boothil says, bending your knees to push your ass into the air. His finger teases your puckered hole, tracing your rim, but never pushing anything in,

“Boothill.” You whine. “Put it in already!”

“What’d I say?” Boothill growls, bringing down a hand against your ass in a harsh spank. “That you’re gonna take what?”

“T-Take what you give me!” You whine, pressing your face into the cushion in embarrassment.

You can’t believe what’s currently happening. Here you are, face down and your ass in the air as Boothill eases a finger into your tight hole, occasionally giving mean spanks against your balls and ass.

Eventually, Boothill presses his first finger in. The feeling makes you gasp out, your back arching against the workbench. His fingers are so thick. You whine out, instinctively rocking your hips against his fingers.

“That’s it.” Boothill praises, bringing a hand to rub your back gently. “Fuck yourself on my fingers, like a good lil’ slut.” He presses in another finger, beginning to match the pace of your hips as he curls them.

He thrusts them in and out, and in and out until you’re seeing stars. Your eyes are rolled back, drool slipping from your lips as you moan and writhe against Boothill’s hand. He curls his fingers, easily finding your prostate and laughing cruelly when your dick twitches.

“Fuck, you’re so easy.” He moans, watching you fuck against his fingers. Slowly, he grabs his new metal dick, dragging the cool tip across the crack of your ass. You whine, your eyes squeezing shut at the cold sensation.

“Boothill!” You moan out. “D-Don’t stop, I—I’m so close!”

“Oh?” He questions. “And who told you that you had any right to tell me what to do?”

Just like that, he’s pulling his fingers away from you. You’re a whining, crying mess at that. Sobbing about how you needed his fingers, his dick, his anything to make you come. “Please!” You beg. “Need t’cum so badly!”

“Really?” Boothill smirks. “If that’s really what you want…” He tugs you off the workbench, watching you fall to the floor into a pathetic heap. “Then beg me for it.”

You nod eagerly, instantly getting on your knees and kissing against Boothill’s hard cock. The rough concrete of the floor is painful against your bare knees, but you can make due.

You’re quick to take his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the cool metal before pressing your lips slightly lower. Your tongue presses down, forced to drag along his underside the more you take him in.

You blink up at Boothill, tears welling in your eyes as you plead with him to help you. Help you. Use you. It didn’t matter.

Boothill lets out a tsk before grabbing your hair harshly. “What happened to my smart mechanic I knew so well? When’d he get replaced by this cock-hungry bitch who can’t even suck dick to save his life?”

At that, Boothill’s pressing your face all the way down. Your nose pokes at the cold metal of his pelvis before he’s pulling you back and thrusting his dick deep down your throat. He sets a quick pace, fucking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a fleshlight for him to use and throw away at his disposal.

Your jaw hangs slack, tongue forcefully dragging along the metal of his cock. Drool slips from your lips but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when your mouth is being stuffed so full. Boothill’s pace quickens and you moan weakly around his cock, feeling something poke at your own.

From what you manage to see through the corner of your eye, Boothill is stepping on your dick, rubbing the sole of his dirty shoe against your tip as it leaks precum all over the rough concrete. The feeling of his shoe on your dick, his cock stuffing your mouth—it’s all enough to send you over the edge.

Your eyes squeeze shut, your cock twitching pathetically under Boothill’s shoe as you shoot ropes of cum from your tip. Some of it sticks to the bottom of his shoe, and some squirts farther. Boothill laughs, rubbing his shoe harder into your dick, watching you whine around his cock.

“C’mon slut, you can take it. This is the payment you wanted, so don’t go crying on me now.”

© KISSENTURINE. do not translate, plagiarize, edit, or repost

[buckiverse]

hiiii, im callista, the one who actually made the CAWK ANALYSIS DIAGRAM, and im begging you to talk about xav and raf too so i can add them to our very important research <3

☆ warnings: mdni, a cock analysis for rafayel (including lemurian form) and xavier

☆ a/n: when i saw your post on twitter I was so shocked >< (in a let me pick up a mf pen and paper type of way) but, when I started cooking this one I did in fact realize I am a monster fucker when it involves rafayel (and sylus too who am I kidding fr), so I am looking forward to the updated research hehehe

sylus, caleb, and zayne ver.

R6.76GGPV - #dc9ca2

Rafayel’s physique is striking. He’s tall, with a lean, wiry frame that speaks to his grace and agility. Don’t be fooled by his size—this man is one with the water. His strength is deceptive, fluid, and undeniable. And, let’s be real: he’s lean, he’s sculpted, and damn, he looks incredible. His stamina is off the charts—of course, he’s a God of the sea. Hello?

Now, let’s get to the real topic at hand: his cock. It’s not the biggest—6.76 (17.1704 cm) inches, rounded to the nearest decimal—but Rafayel is a grower, okay. And what he has is a masterpiece. Gorgeous. I mean gorgeous. The kind of cock that makes you want to worship him, offering yourself up at his altar. There’s a bit of girth to it, too, and trust me, it’s a blessing in itself.

The head? Perfectly shaped, a stunning, pretty pink—honestly, it could be my new favorite lipstick shade. As for his pubic hair? None. Nada. Rafayel is smooth, clean, and pristine. (or he has designs because, yes the fuck he would) But here’s the thing: he doesn’t care what you do with yours. Whatever you’re working with, it’ll drive him wild.

Oh, and the veins. He doesn’t have many, but each one is perfectly placed like his cock was crafted by the gods themselves (maybe because he is one). No more than three, all connecting at various places on his shaft, and if you trace your fingers on it—even if it's a feather-light touch, his cock will jump. It’s almost too pretty—like a work of art you can’t stop staring at.

☆

Now, let’s talk about Rafayel as the Lemurian. His cock in this form? Thick. Fat. Gloriously imposing. At a solid nine inches (22.86 cm), it’s crowned with a knot at the base that’s thick and impossibly enticing. And his shaft is covered in soft, smooth scales—silky to the touch, like oiled skin or delicate petals. That knot? It’s primal, and when he’s overcome by the need to breed, it’s game over. Once he’s inside, don’t even think about running. You’re his, and he’s not letting you go until he’s filled you with his little sea heirs.

Oh, and just imagine him murmuring in that low, teasing voice: “Isn’t this what you wanted, pretty girl?” And you know his eyes are dark and overcome with need.

The scales don’t stop at his cock, either. They trail up his sides, climbing his torso, adding a texture that’s as sensitive as it is otherworldly. When you run your hands over him, he’s electrified, almost trembling with the intensity of sensation. And his cock? Hyper-sensitive. In this form, he’s consumed by the urge to breed, to claim you completely.

Careful what you wish for—because when Rafayel takes you, there’s no turning back.

X6.5GGPT - #c97677

As we all know, Xavier’s figure is quite shrouded in clothes. But truly—his figure is imposing. He’s tall, surprisingly muscular, it’s easy to forget this man is a trained (experienced) hunter. Of course he’s in good shape—it’s impossible for him not to be. He needs to be agile and perceptive—just like how he fucks by the way (like a jack rabbit).

So, his cock. Well, it's pretty—too pretty. A solid six and a half inches (16.51 cm), and yes, he’s a grower. Like I said, his clothes hide everything. And it’s thick, too thick for his own good—Xavier has a habit of reveling in your reaction to it—everytime. When he pulls his pants down and he watches your eyes grow big, your pupils dilate, he can see the wheels turning in your head. 

The head is like a mushroom and is so pretty pink, it has a beautiful red tint to it. So thick and it stretches you out everytime, and the tears pooling in your eyes get him going, he might say something like “You’re everything—do you know that? Everything.” Oh gosh and he keeps the hair low and trimmed or he’s bald—a perk of aging slowly is that everything grows slowly too.

And did i mention—he can make it glow. The craziest thing about him is that he's a come machine. He has this innate ability to pump endless amounts of come into you—he needs too. He has too much stamina and can go forever.

He’s literally fucking insatiable, once he has a taste of you. 

☆

R6.76GGPV: rafayel-6.76inch-girthy-grower-pink-veiny

X6.5GGPT: xavier-6.5inch-grithy-grower-pink-trimed

[azlrse]

➳ 10 years later (a sol brugmansia x gn!spouse!reader drabble)

cw: yandere themes, mentions of murder & injuries (in the past), themes of obsession and possessiveness, mc and sol had a kid together (consensually & can be depicted as biological/adopted), ooc!sol (writing him for the first time), domestic au, overall fluff w/ a bit of angst

a/n: there's only a few fics of sol from tkatb vn and im a bit disappointed ngl so imma contribute (and planning on writting for tkatb hehe). but pls note that this game is for adults (18+) only and respect the creator's wishes in terms of playing the game (minors stay away plss)

"papa.." a small voice snapped the thoughts of sol as he stared into the painting he created a decade ago; a painting whom he considered as a masterpiece, a memorabilia and serves as a core memory of his entire life. sol's head turned downward and saw his own daughter raising her hands indicating that she wants to get some upsies. (e/c) colored eyes stared at his reddish ones, now soften as he picks up the little girl from the ground. "yes, munchkin?" sol replied to hazel, her little fingers pointing at the figure next to her father.

his head turned to see what, or whom rather, his little girl is pointing towards. "who's the person next to you?" he stared your portrait next to him, dressed in an all white attire while holding a bouquet of forget-me-nots and a brugmansia flower is seen on the top of your head as a gleaming smile is shown on the portrait.

the same portrait he painted all those years ago.

he looks at hazel, an awestruck smile is seen on his face. "that's your mama/dada. they're looking majestic and radiant, aren't they?" the little girl nodded in return, jumping within his arms as if to express on what her father is saying is true all along. "mama/dada is indeed radiant! like a shooting star passing through the sky!" sol let out a soft chuckle at his daughter's answer.

that remind of sol about someone, where are you anyway?

just as he is about to ask hazel on where you are, the door opened revealing his precious spouse, carrying loads of paper bags from the trip to the grocery store. hazel quickly jumped off from her father and quickly clinged into your leg. "mama/dada, you're home!!" she squeaked and giggled as you continuously walked into the kitchen whole carrying what you've bought an hour ago. "hazel, watch it or you might hit your head on the ground." you said out of concern, placing the bags on the counter quickly and carried your daughter into your arm, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

"no kisses for me?" sol teasingly asked while giving you a pouty face. "of course, you deserve one too, dear." putting down hazel on the ground, you quickly leaned in and kissed him on the lips and felt a pair of hands on your waist, pulling you closer towards his black tank top. hazel let's out a gag, trying to separate the both of you from your declaration of love from one another. "that's disgusting!" hazel exclaimed, pulling her father off of you. "I want more kisses mama/dada!!" you laughed from the commotion that took place in front of you.

"one day, you'll be just like this with someone you truly love, zel." you spoke, still clinging into your husband's arm. "don't wanna, that's disgusting." hazel replied, pouting as her arms crossed in between her chest. her father shrugged and proceeded to place a kiss on your cheek. "who knows," sol said, staring directly at you. "you may find someone whom you considered as a soulmate, like your mama/dada here."

your eyes widen a bit from being flustered, slapping his arm lightly. "oh hush you, you never failed to make me like this even after 10 years of marriage." a laugh emitted from the both of you as hazel continuously pouted from her parents answer. the sound of laughter faded away from his ears and only what's left is the sound of ringing. from the inner depths of sol's mind, he will never forget how far he can go for him to obtain this domestic life.

all the bloodshed..

his possessiveness..

the smell of iron and the familiar grip of a sharp object..

obsession and greed to keep (m/c) all to himself..

and all thanks to that, he obtained the family he always wanted, a family that is far more different than his. no abuse, no bruises or harm is present within his little family. just you, his precious pumpkin and his little munchkin.

he hopes that you'll never know the truth on what happened to crowe. who knows? maybe he went on another country to pursue his master's or doctorate? or perhaps also having a family of his own and awaiting for his message to meet his children.

or is it??

final a/n: named the daughter 'hazel' since it's associated with autumn and pumpkins (the endearment sol referring to the player), couldn't picked a better name i apologize :'>>

Do not republish, edit, or repost to other websites. Reblogs and likes are appreciated! 💕

[aeristudios]

cw: kissing, unprotected car sex, creampie, masturbation, definitely some dirty talk, pet names, exhibitionism? 18+ for the anon who requested "the devil's tango" part 2 to this drabble and @hobeemin

You had a very long day.

You had a deadline to meet at work and your boss was on everyone's coattails to make sure it was met. He yelled, screamed and threatened to fire the whole dept by the end of the day. You were frustrated, annoyed and need to release some stress.

5pm rolled around and you could not get out of there fast enough. You saw Wonwoo, standing there with his camera in his hand, ready to snap your photo when you walked out of the building. Noticing you were upset, he pulls you into a hug and kisses you in ways that makes you melt in more ways than one.

"You had a bad day baby?"

You nod, leaning your head on his shoulder as he walked you to his car. He smelled good, looked good, and you have this fervent need that you need to scratch.

"I really need you to fuck me."

Wonwoo looks at you curiously and chuckles, opening the door to let you in.

"I'm serious," you stand your ground. "Work absolutely sucked and I need to release some stress—"

He shuts you up with another kiss, his hands entangled in your hair as you lean against the open door. "Get in the car princess."

You hastily in the car and buckle in as he pulls out, driving until he pulls into a secluded spot surround by trees and facing a lake. You have always driven passed this area and wanted to see what it led, as the trees surrounded with vines of marigolds. Looks like he had the same idea.

Once he made sure the car was in park, he motions for you to go in the backseat, and you do just that, hiking your skirt and scurrying out of your panties. Your hands eagerly pull on the drawstring of his pants, pulling them down and revealing his hard cock, leaking with pre-cum. Your mouth salivates at the thought of tasting it, and watching him rub along his shaft makes you wet.

"Play with yourself," he commands, pushing your legs apart. "I want to see how bad you really want me."

Your fingers play against your needy clit, rubbing it furiously as he stroke himself to your entrance. The tip is barely touching your folds, but you want him. Need him.

"Wonwoo please just fuck me—"

He is good at shutting you up. He hikes your legs up and slides in you, his cock fitting inside of you perfectly, like you were made for him. He gently kisses your face, thrusting slowly and deeply so you can feel all of him. He knew you could take it.

"You're so impatient," he grits his teeth. "Did you really need that bad?"

You nod fervently, locking your legs around his waist as he fucks you harder. The car shakes and the windows fog up, the sound of skin clapping and your moans turning you on even more. It doesn't take you long to cum, your essence coated all over his lower half and part of the backseat. You are breathless and thoroughly fucked out, but you still beg him to cum inside of you, wanting to feel his hot load dripping out of you. You like feeling like his personal whore.

"Is that what you want, baby? You want me to fill up your pretty pussy ?"

"Yes. I need it."

Small beads of sweat form on his forehead as he continues to fuck you, his movements becoming more rigid until he reaches his peak, keeping his promise and filling you up with his cum. He kisses you deeply, and you whisper you love him too, gently wiping the sweat off of his face. Once you are full of him, he pulls out of you slowly, watching his load leak out of you slowly, like a river. He leans forward to the front seat and grabs his camera, taking a picture of the masterpiece he created.

"What? It's looks pretty baby."