#*slaps forehead gently*

[slimey-wallz]

I was supposed to finish this months ago 😭✨✨

So I turned em into little potato bean things instead-

Sorry for FINALLY finishing the oc challenge so late!

Here are the FABULOUS creators of the OCs!

@i-ate-your-dog-srry, @robotoast03, @aceisautism, @macicawthorne, @ilovepuertoricanfood, and @did-you-take-my-plush!! 💕💕💕💫💫

UGHHHHHH so sorry I posted this so late 🥺✨

[blastovkatamarinecromancy]

my brother when I wake him up for suhoor

[classyrbf]

you find it so funny how people think your husband, nanami, is the sweetest, most innocent and romantic man they’ve ever laid eyes on, such a gentleman. Which, they are correct in some ways. Gentleman. Check. Sweet. Check. Romantic. Check. He’s always buying you flowers, opening doors for you, kissing your hand, taking you out on spontaneous dates, calling you ‘sweetheart’, ‘honey’, ‘love’, and treating you like some porcelain doll. But innocent? Oh no, no. You almost laugh because it may seem like your husband is ‘innocent’ or ‘vanilla’ whichever term they may use, but he is anything but that. While he may treat you like a princess in public, he absolutely sluts you out behind closed doors.

You don’t blame people for thinking he may look and act soft because that was your first impression of him too. So, imagine the surprise when you first had sex and he was pounding you in a mating press, tears streaming down your face. Yeah, best night of your life. And now that you’re married? God, it makes the sex one hundreds times better than before. He’s go you on your side, one arm hooked under your leg, reaching so far that he’s able to wrap his hand around your throat. The other wrapped around your waist, rubbing your clit while he fucks his cum into you. He’s forcing you to look him in the eyes, faces inches away from each other, because he wants to watch your pretty face when you cum. So innocent, right?

“Oh my god! Fuck!” You cry out, your breathing labored. He’s so deep inside of you, the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot over and over again to the point it makes your head spin especially when he’s toying with your swollen clit. “I can’t! I can’t, Ken! You’re too fucking deep! Ah!” You grip onto the ruffled sheets below, bucking your hips as you attempt to make his cock not feel so good, but the bruising grip he has on your throat and waist puts you right back in your place.

“You can take it, sweetheart. I know you can. You know why?” He pulls you in closer, pressing his lips to your ear. “Cause you’re a fucking slut for this dick.” He thrusts his hips faster, skin slapping against skin and the mixture of your juices and his cum create a sticky mess between your thighs. “Awe, is that gonna make you cum? Being degraded? I can feel your pussy clenching me,” he darkly smiled, heavy breaths fanning against your damp skin. He rubbed your clit faster, carefully watching the way you threw your head back in pure bliss.

“Fuckkkk! You’re gonna make me cum again!” Your toes curled the closer you got to your orgasm, whimpering as you took in every feeling of pleasure coursing through you.

“Squirt all over this dick, baby. Be a good girl for me and show me how good I make you feel.” He felt your walls tightening with each passing second, sweat trailing down his forehead as he kept his pace. Your legs began to shake as you writhed under him, cursing and screaming as you squirted all over, soaking the blankets below you. “Messy fucking slut. Look at you, you’re still fucking going.”

“Oh my god! Yes, yes, yes!” Your brows furrowed as you watched him fuck you through your orgasm. “It’s too much, Ken!” You pulled his hand away from your clit, holding onto his wrist tightly while he slowed down his thrusts, now going deep and slow. You laid there in a dazed state, trying to catch your breath. His hand gently caressed your stomach slowly inching up towards your tits, cupping them in his hand while he placed sloppy kisses down your neck and to your collarbone.

So yes, while your husband may be such a gentleman, such a sweetheart, such an angel to others, in the back of your head, you think of those moments behind closed doors when he makes you cum your brains out, praising you and degrading you all within the same breath, choking you and treating you like some common whore. But after all that’s over, he’s back to treating you like the most delicate thing he’s ever touched. It’s truly the best of both worlds.

[kurooh]

when choso first learns about what facesitting really is, he brings it up after a make out session that’s left you both hot and heavy. he’s tugging on your hand, practically begging you to take a seat.

“i-i’m not sure,” you stutter, unsure. “what if you suffocate or something? i don’t wanna hurt you..”

the look he gives you is one of pure need and longing. “i don’t care, just sit baby. please.”

for good measure, choso gives you a little pout, breaking into giggles and a smile once you slip your panties and shorts off. your thighs tremble as you hover above his face, eyes squeezing shut at the heat of his breath against your sticky cunt.

“mmm, that’s no good,” he remarks, large hands rising to your hips and settling lightly. “i told you, sit down.” choso’s strong, yanking you down hard onto his face; you feel and hear his muffled moan when your pussy’s all over his whole face.

“choso!”

“so, so fucking good,” choso gasps against you, holding your squirming body in place as his tongue laps and laps at your sticky cunt.

beneath you, his body’s sweltering with heat, racing through every nerve like electricity while tight pressure builds in his cock. with a glance over your shoulder, you notice his hips rutting into the air as he searches for friction.

“cho,” you sob, so overwhelmed you actually feel tears building in your eyes, “i-i wanna suck you off, ‘s not fair—”

he easily lifts you and peers up at you from between your thighs, face flushed and shining with your slick. with a shaky finger, you nudge some of his hair away from his forehead.

“don’t want you to,” it’s painful to say, because he really does, but that’s simply a distraction for the both of you. “baby,” he murmurs gently, “i want you to focus on cumming for me, ‘s all, okay?”

you nod quietly, and the gesture is met with a mild slap to your ass. “okay, cho,” the moment the words leave your bitten lips, he’s pulling you back down and greedily drinking all of you in, taking whatever he can get.

choso’s ministrations encourage you to roll your hips against his face; a light bump of his nose to your clit has you crying out and grinding all over him. that’s right, he thinks, stars in his closed eyes. he wishes he could tell you to use him to get off, but he’d have to lift you up and he doesn’t want to even breathe.

unconsciously, he matches your pace, his hips rising into the air in synchrony with your own. one of your hands slips into his silky hair and tugs; he’s your anchor, keeping you somewhat steady although he’s the reason you can’t stop shaking.

“choso,” you wail loudly, angling your hips to let him take your clit between his lips and suck, “oh, i’m so close, ‘m gonna cum soon—”

from between your thighs, choso sees everything: the parting of your lips, the way your face crumbles in absolute pleasure, the brief moment of stillness as you fully fall over the edge.

it’s too much and not enough, but he cums too.

“c-cumming, choso,” is all you can muster, riding out your orgasm on his face and tongue while his hips buck wildly into the air.

the muffled moan you feel deep in your cunt makes you gasp, pulling away at the feeling of overstimulation, but he’s holding you tight. a look over your shoulder at the right moment, and you watch as his clothed cock explodes, gushing cum and soaking his boxers.

after all your squirming and pulling away, choso finally lets you go with crescent moon indents in your plush skin and a loud huff.

“i wasn’t done,” he heaves, skin smeared with your cum. it’s glossy and messy, but he won’t think about washing it off until you’ve cum at least three more times.

“but you came and everything, i—”

choso silences you by sealing his lips against yours, and you can briefly taste yourself— sweet, just like he’s always said.

“a few more times, please?”

[nanamisgirly]

taking a shower is impossible ྀི

“suguru…”

you're bare, pressed against your very much naked husband under hot water, and all you want is to scrub your scalp peacefully. not to be pinned against his chest, which—yes, feels divine—but is not helping your situation.

“you always do this,” you sigh, smiling despite yourself.

“well, it's important isn't it? bonding with your wife, not letting the flame die between us.” he leans down, nose brushing yours.

“suguru, we just had sex this morning. i just wanna wash my hair, you're making this impossible…” his hands move up your sides, then down again, sliding over the curve of your hips. he just never stops. “you know i can't wash properly when you're stuck to me like this,” you mumble, trying and failing to tilt back.

water rushes over your shoulders, geto doesn't bother budge an inch—he only reaches behind you to grab his shampoo, “then let me do it.” he says not letting you protest as he squeezes the bottle, letting the luxury spill into his palm. “y'know mine's better anyway.”

“i don't wanna smell like cologne,” you mumble under your breath, your nose scrunching. it wasn't unusual for your husband to shampoo your hair—or to sneak his fancy products into your routine—but it was always funnier when he didn't know. not like he cared, he loooves when you smell like him. plus, the man had long, thick, silky black hair—any woman would sell her soul for strands like his—so it was only fair, right?

he clicks his tongue, “it's sandalwood and vanilla." he insists, “it's classy. it's sensual. it's the reason old ladies flirt with me at the farmer's market.”

you roll your eyes. “because your hair's shiny and look like a myth.”

“and i fuck like one.” he winks, all smugness and sin.

“suguru.” you try to scold, pinching his nipple barbells. he lets out a dramatic squeal that turn into a laugh. his smile falters just slightly as his soapy fingers start to scrub your scalp. 

and it was all cute and tease until you feel it—his cock twitches, pinned between your matching belly piercings. (a stupid VERY IMPORTANT detail you both got on a trip years ago—his dark stud with your initial and yours, a delicate charm that curves to match his.)

“every time,” you whisper “you say it’s about hair, and every time, you get hard five seconds in.”

“correction,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “i’m hard before we step in. this just… makes it worse.”

his hands drift—long fingers sliding down the back of your neck, down your spine, until he’s grabbing a handful of your ass with a soaked slap. you squeak. “sugu—!”

“shh,” he hums, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth, slow and wet and open. “just let me love you a little. you feel so good like this. so warm, so soft—” he presses his forehead to yours, breath hitching. “…i can’t stop touching you.”

his lips drag to your jaw, nipping gently. he lathers up again, and this time, his hands come to your chest—slippery palms gliding over your breasts like he’s trying to memorize them through touch alone.

“i’m being helpful,” he says too innocently, voice low, soaked in need. “just a loving husband washing his pretty wife.”

“totally normal,” you manage, barely able to breathe.

“perfectly respectful,” he hums, thumbing over your nipples until they pebble, then dipping down to mouth at one—open kisses on wet skin.

“this is—ngh—this is not how showers work.”

“this is exactly how ours work.”

[mooningningg]

"ᴡʜᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ᴅɪᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ?"

...In which someone gets violent with you in front of him.

sukuna, gojo, megumi, and suguru.

genre, fluff? warnings, violence! notes, ughhh i love when men...

★ RYOMEN SUKUNA

It happens fast. Too fast. One second you’re blinking back shock from the sting of a slap across your cheek, and the next—

“You fucking dead piece of shit.”

The air shifts. A blood-red blur barrels past you before your heart can catch up. Sukuna’s fists connect with the guy’s jaw, a bone-snapping crack echoing through the corridor. He doesn't stop. A punch to the stomach. A kick that slams the boy against the lockers. Then another. You think you hear the guy trying to say something—maybe apologize—but Sukuna’s boot is already crushing into his ribs.

“Touch her again, and I’ll feed you to my dogs, limb by fucking limb.” He seethes, voice venomous and brutal, spitting insults like poison while pinning the guy by the throat. "You wanna bleed, huh? I'll fucking gut you right here—"

“Sukuna,” you whisper, breath catching.

He turns. Blood streaks his jaw, knuckles raw, eyes still wild like an animal fresh off a kill.

But when he sees you— that violence quiets.

“...You good, baby?” His voice drops. Gentle, like the softness was always meant for you and no one else. He walks over, still panting, grabbing your chin with his blood-stained fingers and tilting your face to inspect the damage. “Did he hurt you bad? Fuck, I should’ve ripped his goddamn hands off—”

You shake your head. “I’m okay now.”

He exhales slow. Then kisses your forehead, lips lingering like a silent promise.

But when he pulls back, he’s already turning over his shoulder. “I’m not done with him.”

★ GOJO SATORU

You stumble back, almost losing your footing—and before your brain can process what just happened, there’s a hand on your waist, steadying you.

Gojo’s fingers curl protectively around you, his other hand gently brushing your hair behind your ear. He’s silent for a moment, unnervingly still, before he presses the softest kiss to your temple.

“Baby, stay right here, alright?” Then he turns.

His usual smirk is still there, but something’s different. It doesn’t reach his eyes. The guy who pushed you barely has time to say a word before Gojo’s already in front of him.

“Wow, shoving people smaller than you?” Gojo says with a mock laugh, “That’s cute. What’s next, kicking puppies?” And then— Crack.

His fist slams right into the boy’s jaw, and he drops like a bag of bricks.

Gojo adjusts his sunglasses, like that didn’t just happen. “Oops. My hand slipped.”

He turns back to you, grin bright as the sun. “You okay, sweetheart?” You nod, a little breathless.

“Cool, cool. Wanna grab some ice cream? I think you deserve a treat. That guy’s jaw sure got one.”

★ FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

You yelp when someone pulled your hair. It’s not just the pain—it’s the shock. But the guy doesn’t get to enjoy your reaction for long. Megumi's already there, eyes blazing, hands grabbing the guy by the collar and shoving him back so hard he stumbles.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Megumi growls.

Before the guy can even defend himself, Megumi grabs his hair and yanks it downward, hard.

“You think that shit’s funny? Huh?” he snaps, voice dangerously low. “Pulling someone like that—what are you, five?”

He drags the guy down, practically hissing insults with every breath. “You slimy, brainless waste of air. You’re lucky I don’t throw you off a roof right now.”

And then—slam—he pushes the guy to the ground. Hard. Spits out a final, “Pathetic,” before dusting off his hands and turning to you.

The anger drains from his face in an instant.

“Hey… are you okay?” His hands hover before they gently cup your cheek, checking if you’re hurt. “Did he pull too hard? God, I swear people like that don’t deserve to breathe—”

“I’m fine,” you say quietly.

But he doesn’t let it go. He slips his hand in yours, squeezing. “Come on. Let’s go home. I’m not letting anyone else near you today.”

★ GETO SUGURU

It wasn’t even subtle. A full, deliberate splash of red punch, drenching your shirt, staining your chest. You freeze in shock, blinking down at the mess—

And Suguru sees red.

Without hesitation, he grabs the nearest lunch tray—full of food—and storms toward the guy who did it. The boy barely turns before Suguru slams the tray into his face, sandwich and all. The cafeteria gasps. Suguru leans in, towering, voice low and venomous.

“You. Fucking. Monkey.” He drops the tray. “Stupid, brainless animal. Is that how you get off? Staining what you’ll never have?”

The guy tries to stammer, backing away with mashed potatoes on his face, but Suguru just glares him down with pure disgust before turning to you.

“Oh, baby…” His tone flips completely. Gentle. Sweet. He takes a napkin and carefully wipes the juice off your arm. “Hold on, I’ve got extra shirts in the car.” He brushes your damp hair from your face, eyes soft now. “Let’s get you changed, yeah, doll?”

You nod, a little stunned by how fast it all happened.

He wraps an arm around you, guiding you away from the mess, shielding you with his body. “You’re not walking through this place drenched in sugar."

[jaesblogstuff]

He doesn't listen I fear.

You know those instances where you’re a kid at school and your parents have to pick you up from school because you’re sick. That reminds me of Simon only time he’s much more stubborn and doesn’t take no for an answer most times.

⸻

You told him not to go in.

That morning, watching him drag his shirt over trembling fingers, you knew something was off. His shoulders slumped just a little too far, his voice caught in his throat when he said, “Just tired, that’s all.” And the heat rolling off of him when you touched his forehead—hellfire, even then.

“You should sit this one out, Simon,” you said quietly. “You’re running a fever.”

He grunted. Kissed your temple. “I’ve had worse.”

You didn’t argue. Not really. You just watched him lace up his boots and walk out the door like the stubborn bastard he is.

⸻

It doesn’t take long.

He holds out through briefing. Through training updates. Through a round of morning paperwork where he stares at the same page for twenty straight minutes. Nobody says anything, yet, but Price is watching him closely. Always is.

Then it happens.

Mid-conversation, Simon loses his balance. He rights himself fast—too fast, but not before his hand slaps against the edge of the table for support. He’s pale beneath the mask, which makes the red flush on his neck stand out even more.

“Riley.” Price’s voice cuts through the air. Calm. Measured. “Med bay. Now.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re burning up, son.”

Simon opens his mouth to argue again—but sways instead.

Price sighs. “That’s it. You’re done. You’re no good to anyone like this. Go. And we’re calling your emergency contact.” you

“No—no, I’m good,” he rasps.

“Not asking, mate.”

⸻

The number they dial is the only one listed.

Just “Mrs. Riley – Home.”

When you answer the call, your voice is calm but laced with expectation. You excused yourself from the meeting you were in. “Let me guess. He didn’t make it through the morning.”

There’s a pause on the other end. Then, “That’d be correct, ma’am. Captain Price here. I’m sorry to call out of the blue. He’s in the med bay now—won’t let anyone near him. We’d like you to come collect him.”

You’re already getting your keys. “I told him this morning to —. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

And you are.

⸻

The base is quiet when you arrive—at least the part they bring you through. You’re escorted by a corporal who keeps glancing at you like he doesn’t know what to make of you. Neat coat. Composed expression. Eyes like polished glass. You move like someone used to command, but not in the military sense—something quieter. Older.

They don’t know who you are, not really. They’ve heard of “the missus.” Simon’s muttered references. A few quiet mentions of home, of normalcy. But none of them have seen you before.

Until now.

You step into the med bay and everything shifts.

There’s Simon—half-sitting on the cot, mask still on but sweat plastering his shirt to his back. He looks miserable. Barely holding himself upright. The medic stands a few feet away, clearly not trying to get too close.

You don’t speak loudly. You don’t need to.

“Simon.”

His head lifts.

The change is instant.

His shoulders relax. His breathing slows. He looks at you like salvation has just walked in wearing your coat.

“Love,” he croaks. “Didn’t want them to call you.”

You walk straight to him, planting yourself at his side.

“You should’ve stayed home.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re delirious.”

He opens his mouth, then closes it again. Lets you rest your hand against his forehead. His skin is scorching. You look at him for a long second, then reach to gently peel the mask up and off.

The medics blink. Soap, lingering in the hall, actually stares.

You’re the only one he lets touch him like that.

“Let’s go,” you murmur. “Now.”

And he follows.

Like a shadow. Like a man undone.

Nobody says a word as you lead him out—his massive form leaning on you like he’s hollowed out, his head bowed slightly, his steps heavy but obedient. He doesn’t resist. Doesn’t argue.

The sergeant at the desk stares openly. One of the privates murmurs under their breath, “That’s Mrs. Riley?”

Price just nods once to himself, looking quietly satisfied. “Told you she was the only one who could get through to him.”

⸻

He’s out before you hit the highway.

One arm folded against the window, cheek pressed to his sleeve, breath slow and raspy. His body sinks into the passenger seat like it’s the first safe place he’s had all day.

You glance over at him, your fingers tight on the wheel. A small sigh escapes your chest.

“You never listen,” you whisper. “But I’ll always come get you.”

[gloomwitchwrites]

Been absolutely feral for this idea but - request for a reader that matches their partner's freak. Is forward and horny. Throws them a pick up line, slaps their ass, whispers something filthy in their ear 😂 catch the boys off guard but quickly make them love it 🤭

Ty ty!

Ah! Anon, I love this. I love this idea. It's so fun. I think all of us are used to the guys being forward, but not necessarily their partners. This is a nice spin on it, and I'm here for it! Enjoy!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader) *Price is f!reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, dirty talk, established relationship, shenanigans, pick-up lines, implied sexual content

Word Count: 600

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price (w/ f!reader)

“I want to bounce on it,” you announce.

John blinks and looks up. Bounce on it?” asks John over his tea mug.

You nod downward toward his dick, and John’s head tilts slightly.

“I mean—I want to sit on your face first. But then I’d like to bounce on it.”

John stares, and you’re not sure if he’s heard you correctly. But then he clears his throat, setting down his mug and the morning paper on the coffee table.

He reclines on his back, resting his head on a pillow. “Come here then,” he purrs, gesturing at his face.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Hey handsome.”

Kyle glances up from the stove, one hand clutching the handle of the pan in front of him. He looks around the kitchen as if there is someone else in the room.

“Me?” he asks, pointing at himself.

With a little swagger in your step, you saddle up beside him. Kyle beams, extending his unoccupied arm to accept you into his embrace. You slide your arm around his middle and place your hand on his chest, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Who else?” you reply with an alluring sweetness that has Kyle grinning like an idiot.

“You’re being awfully affectionate,” he muses, kissing your forehead before returning his attention to the pan.

You rub your hand against his chest, pressing in even closer. “Maybe I want something,” you murmur.

“Like what?” he laughs. “My wallet?”

“Like this,” you sigh, reaching down to gently cup him.

Kyle exhales deeply through his nostrils as you continue to rub back and forth, urging his dick toward hardness.

“I’m making dinner,” he breathes, eyelids fluttering slightly as you dip beneath the waistband of his grey sweatpants.

“You can still make dinner,” you reply softly as you slowly sink to your knees.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“There you are,” muses Johnny.

He strides forward, arms encircling you low at your waist, hands resting on your ass. You drape your arms around the back of his neck, bringing him even closer. A mischievous smile spreads across Johnny’s face.

He has no idea you’ve got the same thing on your mind.

“Missed you,” he murmurs, leaning in for a kiss.

“Missed you, too,” you reply, going in for your own.

“You did?” he asks, an eagerness in his tone.

This time when you go in for a kiss, you slow it down, stretch it out. Lingering. Lingering more until he softens, the tip of his tongue teasing your bottom lip.

“I did,” you affirm, opening wider to allow him in.

Your hands descend, slide under his shirt, caressing bare skin. Johnny shivers, and then he’s grinning.

“What are you after?” he asks with a cheeky smirk.

You draw back slightly, giving him your best smile. Leaning in, you press your lips to his ear, whispering. “I want you. Naked. Right now.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” groans Johnny, taking a step back as he starts stripping.

You admire the reveal, salivating over every discarded piece of clothing.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“Simon.”

“Yes, love?”

You cozy up beside your husband, casually draping your arm around him. Simon leans into your touch.

“Let’s pretend I’m a shark,” you begin.

He glances at you. “A shark?”

“And you’ve got some swimmers I need to swallow.”

Simon stares at you for a long second before he chuckles. “You—”

“I’m not a meteorologist but do you think I could expect a few inches tonight?”

Simon guffaws. “Bloody fucking hell.”

“So, anyway,” you sigh. “Wanna go fuck?”

He sighs, shakes his head, but you see the smile.

“Simon,” you sing-song.

“Get to the bedroom, love.”

[anlxcqrd]

` 𝐖𝐇𝐎'𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐍𝐎𝐖?

sypnosis: how the jjk men punish you after doing the "she's busy bro" prank on them.

contains: rough unprotected sex, creampie, spanking, true-form sukuna, aftercare?, etc.

warnings: sexual content is present in the following. read at your own risk.

featuring: gojo, geto, toji, sukuna.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

"You thought that was funny?" Your ass receives a slap, dragging out a yelp from your quivering lips as the malleable flesh of your buttcheeks recoiled from the impact. Sounds of your wet skin slapping against each other. Over. And. Over. Again. Fills the room accompanied by the smell of sex lingering in the air.

"Ah! S'toru hngh..."

Swollen pink lips make contact with your shoulder, kissing them tenderly while his fat thumb snakes down to your clit and starts eriting his name harshly to your swollen nub, pushing you to the edge. "Take that—fuck!" His voice breaks into a whimper as he nears his orgasm. His fat cock bullies your g-spot repeatedly before he releases his load into you making your eyes roll back to the back of your head.

He pulls out looking at the scenery of his cum dripping out of your poor hole. He pecks your lips tenderly, silently muttering an 'I love you' as he wraps his arms around you to carry you to the bathroom. "Was I too rough?" His voice was quieter than the sound of the water filling the tub. You shake your head reassuringly giving his hand a tender squeeze. "Not as rough as he did."

Uh oh.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

"Ah ah ah. I didn't tell you to stop. Finish what you started baby." Suguru coos and you whine frowning at him because you know he wouldn't fuck you. "You did this to yourself. Now suck." He slaps his thick cock on your tongue. "And no touching yourself." He strongly reminded.

You obeyed his order and started to lick his slit slowly earning a low groan from him. You kiss his dark reddish tip before wrapping your plump lips around it and start bobbing your head up and down.

You put his hands on top of your hand giving him full control of your head and thats when you almost gagged because he started bullying your throat, the tip of his shoe starts to grind against your crotch, you let out a muffled moan as you both pleasured each other.

His ass clenches, voice cracking, balls tightening. "Babe—I'm close—hngh" he choked out, gently stroking your hair as he busts his nuts down your throat.

After riding his orgasm, he picks you up before settling you down to his lap, "you did such a good job" he kisses your forehead, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Water please" his smile falters at your hoarse voice before nodding.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

"I'm too old for—Ah.. that shit, y'know?" He lets out a breathy groan when you clench around him. "Well clearly to old to get the joke." You try to get on his nerves and you mentally pat yourself on the shoulder cause it's clearly working.

The way he's so deep inside you makes you mewl and arch your back. "I'm growing white—Hngh.. hair because of you." His tip pressing kisses to your cervix as he pistons himself in and out of you.

Your skin was painted with red marks. He admired the canvas, hips slapping harder against yours, fat balls slapping against your ass. "T-Toji—m'close...don't stop—Ah!" You claw on the sheets till your knuckles turned white as you near your climax.

His thrusts started being sloppy and before you knew it, he was cumming hard inside you, painting your walls white. He rubs your clit making you squirm, screaming his name as you cum around his cock.

He pulls out of you, putting you over his shoulders, your legs limping and twitching as your juices drip down. "Let's get you cleaned up."

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

His claws were drawing scars around your back as he pounds into your tight hole, groaning and choking you with his second pair of arms. "How dare you mess with me like that hm?" You look at him with teary eyes, lips swollen and red. "M sorry kuna—Ah!" You yelp as his hand hits your ass.

"Sorry doesn't cut it." You hold onto him, limbs wrapped around his torso. Your eyes roll up when you feel his mouth on his abdomen lick and suck on your clit. "S-Sukuna w-wait—Ah!" You squirt and that triggered his cock to shoot out his load.

And thats when everything went black.

He pulls out when he feels your limp body against his. "Hey, woman?" He cups your face with a hand hoping you'll wake up but seeing how tired you are, he decides to let you rest.

He ordered some servants to bring a clean cloth and a bowl of hot water. He wipes your bruised body with the damp fabric, hand brushing your hair behind your ear. As much as he hates to admit it, he's much gentler with you for some reason.

[veichua]

accidentally cumming while ellie is disciplining you.

....her hand comes down again, a sharp crack against your ass, and you flinch, the sting blooming hot. “six!” you gasp, fingers gripping her thigh for balance.

she hums, approving, but her hand lingers, tracing the spot she just hit, then her fingers brush lower, grazing the damp patch on your panties, and she pauses.

“well, fuck.” ellie says, her voice dropping, a smirk tugging at her lips. “you’re wet? you liking this, huh?” she sounds half amused, her fingers pressing against the damp fabric, making you squirm.

“ellie..” you whine, cheeks burning, but your hips shift, betraying you, she chuckles, dark and knowing, and before you can say more, her hand slaps down harder, the force making you yelp.

“seven,” you choke out, tears pricking your eyes, the sting sharper, her other hand slides to your panties, tugging them aside, and her fingers find your slick entrance, circling slow, teasing.

“dirty girl,” she mutters slipping two fingers inside you, stretching you with ease. “gettin’ off on a spanking? naughty.” her tone’s teasing, but her fingers pump steadily, curling to hit that spot that makes you moan, loud and desperate.

“e-eight,” you stammer, another crack landing, harder still, as she spanks you while fingering you deeper, your ass burns, your pussy clenches around her fingers, and you’re a mess, moans spilling freely.

“keep counting,” she orders, her voice firm, slapping again hard. “nine!” you cry, tears sliding down your cheeks, the mix of pain and pleasure overwhelming.

her fingers thrust faster, her thumb brushing your clit, and you’re shaking, so close. “ten!” you gasp as her hand lands one final smack, the hardest yet, and she curls her fingers just right, pushing you over the edge.

you come with a broken moan, trembling across her lap, pussy pulsing around her fingers as she works you through it.

ellie slows, pulling her fingers out gently, her hand soothing your sore ass with soft strokes. “good girl,” she says, her voice softer.

she helps you sit up, smirking at your flushed, teary face. “you took that well.”

“fuck you,” you mutter, voice hoarse, she laughs, kissing your forehead. “anytime, baby.” she says. “wanna mouth off again? i got more where that came from.”

[youngheejay]

Stubbles and Kisses

A little drabble for my starving readers—It’s been a while since I posted because I’ve been focusing too much on writing long and detailed fics. Enjoy this little snack ❤️

Yes I’ve gone feral ever since I saw these pictures. Why is he so hot when he’s being a normal dude? Idk his manliness is driving me insane (I need him so bad pls)

Sunghoon x fem!reader [established relationship]

You were making yourself a snack when all of the sudden your boyfriend had caged you in a tight back hug.

“Where were you…” he mumbled sleepily into your skin as he had just woken up from a nap. He closed his tired eyes and buried his face into the depth of the crook of your neck.

“I’m just making some snack,” you quickly patted his head before focusing on your sandwich again, weighing between sweet-chilli sauce and teriyaki sauce.

“When did I allow you to leave the bed without my permission?” He slapped your butt, his face still buried in your neck. You yelped at the stinging feeling, “you were sleeping, what was I supposed to do?”

His arms tightened around your waist as he began to sway your bodies in a soft rhythm, “hmmm…” he began, thinking about a response.

“Hmmm…” you mimicked, cutting some pickles. You felt his smile form against your skin, “I don’t know… just don’t leave me again like this. Ever.” He threatened lightheartedly, but you knew deep down he was being serious.

“Ok, you big baby~” You replied as if you were talking to a child.

Contented, he rubbed his face against your skin, his chin now planted on your exposed shoulder as the stubbles on his neck began to scratch against your skin. “Gosh~ you’re so soft,” he sighed as rubbed himself against you like a cat.

You pushed your finger against his forehead, putting a distance between your skin and his stubbles, “and you’re scratching me with your unshaven beard stubbles.”

He gasped dramatically, “oh no! What are we going to do?” He attached his chin and neck on your skin again, scratching you now with determination.

“Hoonie~” you began to laugh, “what are you doing?” You tried to pull your head away but he followed you. “Punishing my girl for leaving me all cold and alone in the bed.”

Your laughter echoed through the kitchen, “you’re so annoying.”

He then began to rub the unshaven stubble of his chin against your cheek, you squeezed your eyes at the discomforting scratchy feeling. “I’m not annoying, I’m just a man who believes in a fair world where everyone is punished for their wrong doings,” his attacks didn’t seem to stop, he enjoyed the close proximity between you two. His arms never loosened around your waist, one hand firmly placed underneath your shirt right under your bellybutton.

“And what can I do for a reduced sentence? Because your girlfriend here wants to eat her sandwich,” you squealed as he now started to gently bite into your cheek, trailing down your neck with his love-bites, his stubbles continued to scratch along the way.

“A kiss will do it,” he now peppered your cheek with tiny pecks.

You turned around in his embrace. His eyes softened at the sight of your angelic face, “hi,” he whispered, love-dazed.

“Hi,” you chuckled, caging your arms around his neck to pull him down.

His soft lips met yours, putting all of his love and affection into the kiss. Just as he put his hand on your cheek to tilt your head towards him, you pulled away, “your hair is tickling me…” you giggled as you pulled at the beard hair on his chin. He groaned dramatically, “yeah right. I’m a man. Of course I have hair there.”

“But you usually shave and now it feels rough and weird,” your eyes glistened with childish-like enthusiasm as your fingers now pulled at the hair on his adam apple.

After a couple moments of comforting silence, you made an announcement: “Okey, payment’s done. I wanna eat my sandwich now.” You turned around quickly before he could react.

“Nooo~!” He whined in protest. His cheek rested on your head, pouting, when he suddenly had an idea. He swiftly grasped your face in his hand to turn it to him and rubbed his rough, scratchy jaw and chin all over it.

“Babe!” You gasped at his attack, “what are you doingggg~” you complaint as you tried to pull away, “I already completed my sentence.”

“No, you didn’t kiss me properly.” He continued to scratch his stubble on your face.

You giggled, “Sunghoon, stop…”

“What did you just call me?” He asked, scandalised, and carried on with his assault.

“I- I meant babe,” you bursted out in laughter.

Suddenly, he pulled away and pouted his lips, indicating his need for a proper kiss. You closed your eyes with a dumb smile as you turned to him completely again, hand on his rough cheek, to pull him in for a kiss. He sighed softly into the kiss, eyes fluttering at the butterflies in his stomach. “You drive me crazy,” he murmured against your lips, almost forgetting his initial plan.

When you finally pulled away, you pecked his lips to satisfy his needs, “good?”

He smiled at you dumbly, eyes twinkling, “yes.”

“Can I eat my sandwich now, you needy baby?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, his smile never faltering. You pecked his lips once again cutely—he almost felt bad at what he was going to do.

Almost.

And when you turned around to finally devour the sandwich which you had perfected to your liking, you quickly realised that it was gone.

Eyes widened, you whipped your head back to your boyfriend, only to see him standing a few steps away—distancing himself from you. One hand holding half of your sandwich as he had already shoved the other half into his mouth.

“Sunghoon!” You screeched.

He laughed loudly, though the food in his mouth muffled the sound, as he stuffed the rest of the sandwich in one go. Chewing and swallowing everything in a matter of seconds.

You sprinted towards him. His eyebrows shot up in panic, he quickly began to flee.

“YOU LITTLE SHIT I SWEAR TO GOD-“

Did you land on his back and clung onto him like a monkey while you hit him repeatedly?

Yes.

Did he take you to your favourite burger place to make it up to you?

Yes.

Did he steal most of your fries there?

Also yes.

Did he shave off his stubble?

Well, you kind of liked it so you didn’t let him until he had to shave it off for some shooting again.

Did you develop a habit of burying your face into his unshaven face and neck and scratching yourself like cat whenever you two cuddled?

Yeah.

And he loved every second of it.

—————————————————————————

Wanna read more? Check my masterlist!

Comment, like, reblog, feedback, requests always appreciated very much!

All works are copyrighted ©youngheejay 2025 . Do not repost or re-write without the permission of author.

[emisluvr]

‎ 𝗗𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗚   ✦   𝗣.𝗝𝗦      

‎ 【 𝓮́𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗍𝖾 】 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉.

박종성 / 𝒇.𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋  ୨ৎ  791.  ───  𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 , 𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 & 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗑 (𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗎𝖺𝗅) , 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗁𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺 , 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾

‎ ꒰◞ ˕ ◟୨୧꒱ REBLOG FOR CUDDLES !

the room is dim, quiet, blankets half thrown off your shared bed with jay as you both lay asleep—except for him.

the soft rustling of sheets and jay’s subtle, deep groans fill the air. he wakes up from a pathetic, wet dream about bending you over and fucking you dumb.

he wouldn't be able to fall asleep at this point. not with his cock hard, pulsing, already leaking in his sweatpants as his chest rises and falls.

he turns to his side, facing your back as he eyes your sleeping figure. and fuck, you looked so good. hair messy but still soft and perfect, your oversized tee ridden up slightly, exposing the arch of your back.. and then his eyes drift down.

your laced-lingerie shorts had shifted in your sleep, and if jay tugged them just a little more, he’d have perfect access to your pussy right then and there.

his breath is shaky as he pushes his sweatpants down just enough, cock springing free and slapping against his stomach—already flushed and dripping, desperate to be inside you.

he moves closer to your body, tugging your shorts aside until he’s met with your wet slit. he groans lowly, guiding his cock to your folds, not pushing in just yet. he rubs the head up and down your pussy, letting your wetness glaze him.

the feeling stirs you slightly, body still heavy with sleep, but you feel jay’s hand on your hip and the familiar pressure between your legs.

"mmh.. jay?" you whisper, voice dazed, too tired to even move.

"shhh.. go back to sleep, doll, ‘kay?" he whispers, thumb tracing lazy circles into your hip as he aligns himself. his cock, already slick from your arousal, presses into your hole before slowly easing in.

"fuckk.. missed this pussy so bad," he groans, burying himself deep. your walls hug him tight, wet and warm around his length.

you breathe out softly in response, his hips angled just right, every slow thrust pressing right into your sweet spot.

"look at you, still so tight even in your sleep," he mumbles. he pulls out halfway before pushing back in, again and again—obsessed with the way your pussy sucks him in, like it needed him even while you slept.

"ngh, jay.." you whimper, your voice soft and needy. little moans of his name slip past your lips as he stretches you open, brushing against that perfect spot.

his hand slides from your hip to under your thigh, lifting it slightly. his fingers find your clit, rubbing gentle circles.

the touch makes your hips jolt, ass pushing back into him. your hand reaches behind you, holding onto his wrist with a weak and sleepy grip.

"always feel so good for me—fuck," his voice cracks as his cock throbs, tip twitching deep inside. he’s close, and so are you.

your walls pulse around him, the pressure of his cock hitting your sensitive spot mixing with the overwhelming pleasure on your clit. your body gives in before you can stop it.

you both cum, your pussy tightening around him as his hips stutter, spilling thick spurts inside you. he groans deeply, staying buried as he fucks it into you, your mixed arousal dripping onto the sheets.

he takes a few slow breaths, forehead resting against your shoulder before kissing it gently. "i love you, angel.. thank you," he whispers, pulling your shorts back into place and wrapping an arm around your waist before dozing off again.

୨ৎ taglist: @murassl, @chuhees, @heebear, @kisuumei, @bangchanwifey, @hoonipies, @kikidoul, @highway-143, @kyanmeai, @nithxhoon, @fdzvie, @hyeinsveil, @curryyed, @heeseungsbm

© emisluvr 2025. all rights reserved.

[sourkiki]

husband!hee who eats out the reader like a man starved since she’s overstimulated from looking after the kids all week 🥲

ALBUM'S CONTENT: explicit mature content, married relationship, dom! husband! 이희승 x fem! reader face-sitting fingering pussy eating ❀ heeseung being kinda nasty here 𖤐 655 ... ᧔♡᧓ catalogue.

FROM PRODUCER: another one for the husband! hee agenda ><

“Heeseung.. are you sure about this?” You asked for the unknown time, biting on your lip as you looked down at your husband, who’s determined to get what he wants. 

He grinned at you, eyes gleaming with excitement and desire—the sight enough to make you clenched down on nothing. With one final shaky exhale, you held onto the bed frame and slowly lowered yourself. Only for Heeseung to grab you by your thighs, making you sit on his face squarely without hesitation. 

“Hee—fuck!” You attempted to protest but your mind blanked out when his tongue darted out, licking along your dripping, puffy folds. 

Heeseung audibly groaned, burying his face deeper into your soaking wet pussy, the sound sending vibrations and shivers down your spine. “Shit, you’re dripping like a fucking faucet princess. Bet you’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?” 

You could only let out a pitiful mewl, back arching from where you sat as your husband parted your folds with his fingers, plunging his tongue deeper inside as he ran it along your gummy walls. Your thighs spasmed, locking his head in place when he pushes two fingers in without warning. You wanted to loosen your grip but Heeseung had a different idea. 

He clicked his tongue when you tried to pull away, detaching his mouth from your pussy. You gulped at the visible sight of a thick, white string mixed with your slick and his saliva, snapping into half. It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes and Heeseung was already nearly gone. His lips and chin glistened underneath the ceiling light, strays of red hair sticking to his forehead covered in a layer of sweat. 

“Nuh uh, don’t try to run from me, darling. You’re going to sit on my face like the good girl you are, alright? Lemme reward you for taking good care of the kids,” he purred, voice lowering an octave.

“H-Hee, fuck, please,” you begged, rolling your hips against his nose, eyes rolling up to the back of your head at how it perfectly aligns with your cunt. 

If there’s one thing about Heeseung, it's that he loves to spoil you. Hence, he dived back in, alternating between kitten licks and long, fat stripes of his tongue while pushing his fingers in and out of you. The double penetration of his tongue and fingers made your body tremble as you sat on his face. Moans, whimpers and chants of his name endlessly spill from your lips. The obscene sound of him slurping your juices like a greedy dog along with squelching from his fingers pushing in and out of you bounces amongst the four walls. 

You nearly let out a high-pitched moan but you remembered that your precious children are sleeping peacefully, right in the room beside yours. Which was why you slapped a hand over your mouth, looking down to see Heeseung smirked. 

“Don’t cover your mouth. Lemme hear you fall apart,” he murmured, lips ghosting against the bud peeking out from the hood. 

The final straw comes in the form of Heeseung sucking on the bud, drawing a whiny and downright most porngraphic moan you’ve made as you squirted all over his face. Hot, transparent liquid frantically gushes from your pussy. Once again, you tried to pull away but Heeseung was stubborn. He held you down, lapping them up like a kitten lapping at its plate of water. Your thighs were trembling by the time you calmed down. 

Heeseung gently maneuvered you away, placing you down on the sheets. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, slipping his soaked fingers into his mouth, not wanting to waste a single drop. Your face burned at the lewd sight as he maintained eye contact with you the entire time. 

“You taste amazing as always. Must be from running around while taking care of the kids,” he teased, laughing when you flung a pillow at his face. 

“Heeseung!”

tags list: @chuhees, @byshens, @hoonstqr, @doucious, @emisluvr, @riqomi, @onlyywwon, @minjunis.

[shosweet]

“what’s in that pretty head of yours?” tooru oikawa asks.

the room glows with the morning light, peeking through the curtains. tooru’s fingers lightly brush some of your hair.

“dunno… just spacing out, i guess,” you reply.

tangled in the sheets, clothes pooled somewhere on the floor, your breathing syncs with his. your head lays on his arm, left hand resting on his bare chest and drawing little shapes.

“still can’t believe we did that,” you mumbled, raising your hand to admire the band on your ring finger, shining brightly as it caught the sun’s rays.

“yeah, me neither…” he replies, kissing your forehead sweetly. “you’re my wife now,” he smiles, taking your fingers and kissing it.

“and you’re my husband,” you giggle, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. his fingers graze up and down your spine, tickling you, yet you never wanted to pull away.

“can’t believe you could make such pretty noises either— hey!” he teased, interrupted by a sharp slap to his peck. you sat up to give him a dirty stare, hair falling onto your shoulders. he only stared back, smug as ever as he chuckled deeply.

“whaaatt? come onnn, don’t be like thattt,” he whined, trying to pull you back into his arms. as soon as you fall back onto the bed, he’s facing you head on, scooching close enough to nudge your nose with his.

“i hate you,” you grumble with a small pout. he takes your chin in his fingers, leaning you up to share a kiss with him.

“yeah? how ‘bout now?” he asked in a softer voice.

“dunno, try it again,” you whispered back. he only smiles and meets your lips once more. quick pecks turn into a long, deep kiss, fingers tangling in his messy hair as his return to your back.

tooru’s tongue licks across your lips, gently asking to be let in. out of breath, you push him away by his chin.

“tooru, we have to get up,” you reminded him. he rolls his eyes and dips his head to kiss along your collarbone.

“five more minutes,” he protests.

“you said that earlier and now we’re naked. come on, i’m hungry,” you groaned. he only whines and traps you in his arms.

“tooru, get offff!” you giggled, his hair tickling your neck as he started giving loud smooches to your chest, lips smacking with each muah! “you’re such a little freak!”

“yeah and you married this little freak,” he giggled back, hands unwilling to let go.

“then i’m filing a divorce,” you say, but only tangle your legs further with his.

“go ahead,” he says, climbing up to meet your face, forehead pressed against yours.

“anything to marry you all over again.”

[ice-man-goes-bwoah]

Thank god someone else sees the potential of remmick’s sub side bc 👀 that man has been looking for connection for centuries - if you were kind to him I think he’d be putty in your hands and it would be glorious. I’d love for you to explore this in your writing - I know you’d kill it and leave me screaming into a pillow haha

Let me be soft with you||Remmick x reader

Summary — remmick has never known an act of kindness in his life until he met you.

Warning smut dom!reader sub!remmick p in v reader rides remmick

Word count—1017

A/n— I LOVE SUB REMMICK AND I NEED MORE

Tagging @abriefnirvana @fuckoffbard

The wind outside howls, brushing dead leaves across the rotting windowsill. The cabin creaks around you—old wood, brittle bones, shadows so thick they feel alive. This place is half-forgotten, sunken into the ribs of the forest like a wound no one wants to reopen. No one comes here. Not anymore.

Not since he made it his own.

You shouldn’t be here.

And yet, Remmick can’t look away from you.

You’re warm. Real. Grounded in a way that mocks the rotting walls and the ghost-thick air. You stand there like you belong, unshaken by the stink of old blood or the teeth of the cold. All soft curves, steady breath, and those kind, quiet eyes that haven’t flinched once—not even when you stepped over the threshold and saw him bare-chested, blood-drenched, wild-eyed.

“You should’ve run,” he rasps, back pressed to the wall like he thinks you might burn him. “Should’ve screamed.”

You tilt your head, like you’re studying a puzzle rather than a predator. “Why would I scream? You haven’t hurt me.”

His jaw flexes. His fingers twitch. There’s blood dried like rust across his collarbone, a streak of it trailing down toward the edge of his sternum. The chain around his neck catches the firelight—dull gold, heavy. Worn not for style, but like penance. Like ownership.

“You don’t know what I am,” he growls. There’s something raw under it. Not menace—shame.

“I do.” You step closer, slow and sure. “And I think you’re tired.”

He flinches like you slapped him.

It’s the kind of answer he doesn’t know how to fight. Not judgment. Not fear. Just truth, laid bare between you. And you, offering it so gently he could scream.

“I’ve done terrible things,” he mutters, voice fraying.

“I know.”

You’re right in front of him now. He could reach you. He could snap your neck. Drain you. Feed on you until the blood runs down his chin. But he doesn’t move. His hands stay clenched at his sides, trembling with effort, nails biting into his palms.

You press your palm to his chest.

His dead heart stutters. Not a beat, not life—but something. Recognition. Longing. Ache.

“You don’t scare me, Remmick.”

And something inside him—something old and ruined—breaks.

He doesn’t remember his knees hitting the floor. Doesn’t feel the pain of it. Just the cotton-soft thump of surrender as he folds, head bowed, hands gripping the hem of your shirt like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. His forehead presses into the warmth of your stomach, desperate, reverent.

“Please,” he breathes, voice so quiet it trembles. “Don’t be cruel.”

“I’m not,” you whisper. Your fingers find his hair, slow and soothing, and his whole body shudders like the simple touch is too much. “Let me be soft with you.”

He makes a sound—low, ragged, almost animal. A wounded thing trying not to bleed out in front of you. It tears out of him like a confession. Like a prayer.

You don’t stop. You hold him through it. You let him kneel. You let him need.

“I’m not good,” he says, mouth still pressed to your belly like he’s trying to hide in you. “Not clean. Not… worthy of this.”

“You don’t have to be good,” you say, gentler still. You tug on his hair, tilting his head up until his eyes meet yours—stormy, wide, afraid. “You just have to be mine.”

His breath catches.

God. He wants that.

He wants to belong. To be claimed, even if he doesn’t deserve it. Wants to forget every name he’s ever taken, every throat he’s ever torn open, every night he’s spent drowning in the dark and trying not to feel.

He surges forward, hands sliding up your waist like he’s starving for you—and you let him. You don’t flinch, don’t falter. You hold his face in your hands, and he leans into the touch like it’s holy.

Like you’re holy.

Like if he lets go, he might never find this again.

You guide him to the bed.

He goes willingly, crawling back on the creaking mattress while watching you with wide, desperate eyes. You undress without shame, your full body bathed in the flicker of firelight—and he stares like he’s witnessing a miracle. Not hunger. Worship.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes.

You smile. “You always look at me like that.”

“Because it never stops killing me.”

You climb over him slowly, pressing him down. His breath catches when your thigh settles between his legs, when your weight blankets him. He doesn’t feel crushed. He feels safe.

“Is this okay?” you ask, fingertips brushing his cheek.

He nods, too fast. “Please. I—I don’t want to think. Just tell me what to do.”

You kiss him. He sighs against your lips like he’s never been kissed soft before. Like the world always demanded he take, and you’re the first to give.

“You don’t have to do anything,” you murmur, grinding your hips just slightly. His head thumps back. “Just feel.”

He’s already hard beneath you, hips jerking helplessly, chain cold against your chest as you lean in. You drag your lips down his throat, over the metal links, to the spot above his unbeating heart.

When you rock your hips again, he moans.

“You’re so good for me, Remmick,” you whisper. “So sweet like this.”

His eyes flutter shut. “No one’s ever called me sweet.”

“Then they weren’t paying attention.”

You ride him slow, holding his wrists above his head, letting him tremble under you while his thighs shake and his whimpers fall like prayers. The praise is steady, like rain—washing him clean, softening him where he thought he was stone.

“You take me so well.”

“You’re doing so good.”

“You’re mine, baby.”

“Yours,” he gasps, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes as his orgasm builds. “Yours, yours, please don’t stop—”

You don’t. You stay with him through the high, through the cries and shudders and pleading. When he comes, he falls apart completely—back arching, mouth falling open in silent reverence, body shaking as you ride him through it, gently coaxing him to give more.

And afterward, when you lower yourself to lay on top of him, he wraps his arms around you like a lifeline.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, voice hoarse.

“You deserve everything,” you whisper back. “Especially this.”

You stroke his hair until he falls asleep.

For once in his long, dark life, Remmick dreams of peace.

[yurizq]

ෆ You had a point to prove.

Geto Suguru had been teasing you all day — smug little glances, fingers trailing down your back during dinner, subtle looks that promised far more than his polite words ever said aloud.

“You always act like you’re in charge,” you’d muttered earlier, arms crossed, daring him. “Bet you wouldn’t last if I got on top for once.”

He hadn’t even blinked. Just raised one perfectly smug brow. “Then ride me.”

That was two hours ago.

Now, your thighs were burning, straddling his lap, his cock stretching you open slow and deep. You had wanted control — had begged for it, practically climbed into his lap talking shit — but now?

You were shaking.

Geto looked up at you like he was watching a show. His arms were behind his head, relaxed, leaning back against the headboard like you weren’t absolutely wrecked above him.

“Getting tired already?” he asked, soft and smug.

You wanted to slap the smirk off his face. Or maybe kiss it. Either way, you glared. “I’m… not done.”

You tried again — rising up, hips trembling, sliding back down with a quiet whimper. His cock filled you too deep, too thick, every drag of it sending shocks through your spine.

His hands twitched like he was restraining himself.

You rocked your hips slowly, trying to grind the way you’d practiced in the mirror once. It wasn’t elegant. It wasn’t even coordinated. You were losing rhythm, your arms barely keeping you upright against his chest.

Geto tilted his head slightly. “Not quite what you imagined?”

“Shut up.”

He chuckled — soft, condescending. “You really thought you’d be the one in charge tonight?”

You collapsed forward, forehead on his shoulder, breathing hard. “I can do it—”

“No,” he said gently, voice dropping low. “You can’t.”

Before you could argue, his hands were gripping your hips — and suddenly he was thrusting up into you, hard, forcing your body down to meet every thrust.

You screamed.

“Suguru—!” you gasped, nails digging into his arms. “F-Fuck—”

“Oh? Now you remember my name?” he hissed against your ear, snapping his hips harder, rough and precise. “What happened to all that attitude?”

Your legs trembled uncontrollably.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?” he growled, fucking into you like he had something to prove. “Didn’t even last five minutes. Pathetic.”

You whined, sobbing into his skin. Every thrust sent you higher, every drag of his cock brushing that sensitive spot you could never quite reach on your own.

He knew your body too well.

“Was this what you wanted, baby?” he rasped. “Wanted to ride me, huh? Thought you could handle it?”

You nodded weakly, tears in your eyes. You were close, embarrassingly fast — again.

“I c-can’t—”

“You can,” he said sharply. “You’re gonna cum on my cock like a good little girl, and then I’m going to fuck you again until you remember your place.”

You came with a choked cry, back arching, walls clenching so tight he groaned into your hair, thrusts stuttering.

“Fuck—look at that—” he growled, watching you fall apart in his lap, “you’re soaking me.”

You collapsed forward, boneless, twitching.

And he didn’t stop.

“Uh-uh,” he said lowly, flipping you onto your back with ease. “You wanted to be in control, didn’t you? Let’s see how much more this bratty little cunt can take.”

He thrust into you again — hard, fast, unrelenting.

You sobbed, overwhelmed.

Your body was wrecked, sticky and slick from your release, still stretched around his cock as he pounded into you. His hand wrapped around your throat lightly, not choking — just enough pressure to remind you who was really in charge.

“You wanted to ride me?” he whispered, leaning close, forehead touching yours. “Next time, ask nicely.”

You cried his name again — desperate, ruined — and when he finally came, it was deep, hot, buried to the hilt, groaning into your mouth as he filled you up.

You lay there for a long time after, chest heaving, clinging to his shoulders.

Suguru’s hand stroked your side gently, the dominance melted away now, his voice calm again.

“You’re cute when you try to be tough,” he murmured. “But next time… just let me take care of you.”

You pouted into his neck. “Shut up.”

He chuckled, kissing your hair.

“You started it.”