#Let me crawl underneath a rock and cry...

[frittbox]

"The website is cleaned now. Nothing should be in there and I’ll make sure it won’t happen again." - W.

"We have since recreated our website in what we feel to be a cleaner and more maintained space with heightened security." - The Welcome Home Restoration Team

Sounds like they went through a lot of trouble to keep someone quiet...

Alternate versions below vvv

[enhaeil]

ICE ! ☆ 박종성

"pull up, she been purring like a kitten preyin' your love. i've been counting on the days you been gone a little too long..."

ice - kelly rowland

devine masculine energy with jay ! ⋆.˚✮

c/w: accidental daddy kink. smut near the end. dominant jay but in a good way

you never thought you'd be into the whole 'daddy' thing until you met jay.

not because he likes it or because he asked you to, but because of who he is.

he's such an 'i got it' guy.

☆ you were at the register of your favorite café, fumbling through your purse to get your wallet. before you could find it, he's already behind you, tapping his card in silence like that's what he was made to do. "next time, just tell me baby, i'll handle it."

or

☆ you're overwhelmed. tired. baby crying. dishes pilled up. when he comes home, he sees how distressed you are and wordlessly takes over, putting on his dish washing gloves. "go lay down. i got it." he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

before you know it, a quiet "thank you, daddy." falls from your lips.

—✩ ₊˚

he just really loves taking care of you. it makes him happy when his girl is happy.

☆ you lay in bed, half-asleep and groggy, when he comes back from running errands. he has sweats and hoodie on, yet still looking yummy as ever.

"hey, baby," he says, pressing a kiss to your lips. "i got the cereal you asked for, by the way." he tells you as he takes his sweater off.

"jay ... you didn't have to go grocery shopping for me babe, i had it." you say as you open your arms for him to crawl back into bed.

"of course you had it, but then what am i here for!"

or

☆ you mentioned a meal you were craving a few days ago. you forgot about it, jay didn't.

you come home from work to the smell of food and soft rock playing. you see your husband with a 'kiss the cook' apron on, focused on setting the table.

"i just wanted you to come home to something good."

when you tell him he didn't have to, he rebuttals saying that he "wanted to."

—✩ ₊˚

leadership, without control. he would never force you or make you do anything. you're an adult. but the way he speaks to you ... makes you want to obey.

☆ he never raises his voice. and he'd most definitely never lay a harmful finger on you. but one glance and a "come here" has you moving before your brain could process. he doesn't say anything that doesn't have to be said. a simple "try that again" and you're apologizing with your eyes.

—✩ ₊˚

he does know that you're human and will get moody or even angry with him at times. that's okay, you don't have to be soft with him all the time.

☆ you had a bit of an attitude, and you admit, you don't even remember what about, but you had one.

jay sits on the bed watching you huff around the room, purposely slamming a drawer extra hard. "you done, baby?"

you shoot him a glare, one that would probably kill anyone else, but not him. he moves from his spot on the bed, stepping closer to you, eyes still soft as ever. "get it out your system, i'll be here when you're done." you can't deny the way your heart softens.

or

☆ you really are mad at him, which leads you to giving him the cold shoulder all night.

"i'm sorry for what I did love, but can you at least talk to me so I can fix it?" he says, sitting across from you on the couch.

you remain silent, pretending to be locked in on your book.

"okay, be mad. when you want to talk, just let me know."

—✩ ₊˚ smut ahead

in the sheets, he never asks you to say it. you just do. he's not performative, he's just doing you in that good.

☆ you're underneath him, barely holding on. his strokes deep and slow, like he knows every nerve inside of you personally. (he basically does.)

"look at me, baby." and you do, or at least try your best with the way he's hitting it. he's so calm, not rushed, completely focused on pleasuring you like it's his purpose.

his rhythm is unforgivingly perfect, causing your head to tilt back as your back arches.

he grabs your chin, not to control you, but to anchor you. "don't hide from me. you feel that? you feel me right there?" he says, tilting his hips just right.

"fuck, yes daddy .." it slips out . not intentional, not to exaggerate like pornstars do, but because it feels right.

his breath catches, once like it does every time, but he doesn't stop. he smiles before leaning in. "that's what i thought."

after that, he doubles down, not going any rougher, but deeper, slower, more possessive, like he's claiming a spot inside of you. like he's reminding you that you're safe, and you don't need to think, just feel.

—✩ ₊˚

of course, aftercare is A1.

☆ you lay there, breatheless, limbs feeling like noodles. but jay is not in a rush. "you okay?" he asks, voice hoarse, the kind of voice that let's you know he felt it too.

"you did so good, so sweet for me."

he gets up, still within the eye's view as he grabs you a warm towel and bottle out of the mini fridge. "c'mere, i got you." there it is again.

when you fall asleep in his arms, jay doesn't move, not even when his arms go numb. it's worth it.

—✩ ₊˚

jay wears the title of being "your man" with pride. he loves being yours, as much as he loves you being his.

☆ he sits on the couch, scrolling on his phone as you talk on the phone with your sister.

"yea, my man took me there once. it was so fancy, the food is good too!" jay looks up from his phone, suddenly interested in your conversation. when you hang up he scoots closer to you.

"say it again."

"huh?"

"call me that again. your man."

you do, over and over again, until he's dragging you to the bedroom. because jay is your man, who doesn't just want to love you, but wants the world to know he's the only man who gets to.

a/n: ive been thinking this 4ever ive never been into the whole daddy kink thing but sumn abt jay mane IF I CATCH HIM ITS ON. also I SWEAR IM FINISHIN Y'ALL REQUESTS.

[science-hoes]

Robby is a physician. He’s a brilliant physician. He was ranked number one by every single emergency program he applied to for residency and fellowship.

So he shouldn’t be so frustrated that he can’t come in you.

It’s all so new to him. After you and Jack and Dana and just about every other loved one in his life suggested he go to therapy, he visited a psychologist and didn’t hate it. The psychologist prescribed him an SSRI for his anxiety and depression, and it’s been a miracle drug to him.

His days are brighter, his jaw is unclenched, and the back of his neck finally has a break from being rubbed raw as a nervous tic. There’s only one problem.

After a couple of months adjusting to the medicine, he’s fucking you, pounding his hips into yours over and over and over and over. But he doesn’t come. It’s like his finger is on the trigger, pushing down as hard as he can, but the gun will not fire.

At first, you both brush it off as a particularly stressful day. The next time it happens, you both blame the wine from dinner. But the third time? Robby is fucking pissed.

His only reason for living most days (aside from loving you) is to fill you up with his cum, watching it drip out of your weeping pussy, dreaming of the day your IUD expires and his seed finally takes.

You blame yourself for a while, worried that he isn’t as attracted to you, or you’re unable to stimulate him to release. Robby nearly strokes out at the presumption that you don’t make him feel good. You’re what brought life back into him. Every squeeze of your pussy and rock of your hips drives him absolutely insane. He spends the better half of that night assuring you that you make him feel good.

Luckily, Robby is a man of science. When the experimental protocol fails, troubleshoot. There are several failed attempts: roleplay, extended foreplay, asphyxiation, bondage. None of which brought him over the edge.

Until you have your IUD removal appointment without telling him. When you ride him that night, a smirk crawls onto your face. “I got my IUD removed today.”

The admission alone is enough to make Robby’s hips stutter. “You- what?” He croaks.

You roll your hips harshly against his, taking every generous inch of his cock into yourself. “My IUD is out. Means you can fuck a baby in me now.”

It was like you were dangling a raw, juicy steak in front of a wolf. He was literally salivating at the thought of getting you pregnant. “You wanna have my baby?” He asked, brow furrowed, eyes glimmering with hope.

You bounce faster, your hands pressed against his soft abdomen for balance. “I wanna have your baby, Michael.”

That’s enough. A whole month of pent up cum blasts into you. It catches you both off guard, the way his entire body convulses. His screams are vile and drug from the depths of his core, trembling underneath you. His cum leaks out of you before he’s even finished unloading, pulsing for a good while after you’ve finished rocking your hips. It’s so much fluid, negating any friction that existed before. Your eyes roll back at the absolute fullness.

“Jesus, Robby.” You moan, falling forward into his arms.

Robby just pants, keeping you close against his chest slick with sweat. “I’m sorry, kid.” He grumbles, letting out a struggled cry as his cock pulses again.

You peppered his neck with butterfly kisses, matching the flutters of his length inside you. “Don’t apologize.” You whispered. “I think you came enough for it to work the first time.”

[hitomisuzuya]

ARCHON SCARA X MIKO/SHRINE MAIDEN READER AND WE'RE HIS GUUJI (LIKE YAE) AND HE EATS US OUT (either by having us face down ass up or LIFTING OUR PUSSY TO HIS MOUTH) IN THE SHRINE'S HONDEN BEFORE FUCKING US INTO OBLIVION??????

-⛩️ Anon

Archon! Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Cunnilingus. Creampie. Degradation. Ego stroking. God complex!Scara.

I chose the latter in parentheses cause you sounded more excited about it. 😳

The intense eroticism of it all nearly overwhelmed you. You were being eaten out but your Archon in the shrine's honden. Whenever Scaramouche came into his quite frankly rightfully power, it didn't take him long to appoint you as his personal shrine maiden.

Why wouldn't he enjoy defining his pet in one of the most sacred halls at the shrine? Whatever Scaramouche wanted, Scaramouche got. It was an added bonus for him that you are puppy dog eyed in love with him.

He had an arm braced under you, lifting your pussy onto his mouth as you needily grinded on it. You let out a breathless cry of pleasure, feeling more of his drool pool between your folds as he latched his lips greedily on your throbbing clit.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, the ever persistent pressure of a building orgasm knotted tighter in her stomach, fighting the urge to close your legs around his head.

A moment later, a scoff followed by a pinch to the inside of your thigh made your eyes snap open. "I told you to keep your eyes on me," He growled, grazing his teeth against your clit to remind you of your place, "Or are you too fucked dumb on my tongue to comprehend such a simple order?"

"M-My Lord," You moaned, obediently directing your gaze back on him. Scaramouche groaned in bliss hearing you address him that way, his swollen cock throbbing as he flattened his tongue on your clit, "Only your tongue can fuck me this good!"

Scaramouche's fingers rubbed your hip in both approval and encouragement as you rubbed your puffy pussy on his tongue. "That's right, grind your greedy cunt on my mouth like the fox slut you are."

Your hands shook as they found the back of his head, tugging on his hair with a whimper of need. You pressed his mouth down into your cunt, your cheeks flushing as your clit throbbed harder on his tongue. Your eyes watered in desperate tears, your toes curling as he swept his tongue up inside of you to taste you clench on his tongue while he degraded you.

You squirmed, causing Scaramouche to narrow his eyes at you, smirking at the tears welling in your eyes. "What's that look for?" He taunted, he knew what you were going to say. And he couldn't fucking wait to hear it.

"I..I need my God's permission to..to.." Scaramouche tongue swirled between your gummy walls, making you unable to do anything but moan loudly. He raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to continue. "I need your permission to cum," You managed to finish.

Scaramouche vibrated a moan on your cunt, holding your cunt against his mouth for a moment before he pulled away, dropping your lower body somewhat unceremoniously as he sat up. He caged you in with his hands on either side of your head as he crawled on top of you. "You'd prefer to cum on your God's cock, hm?" He purred, reaching out to wrap his hand around one of your ears.

"M-Master, my ears are really, really," A loud moan keened from your throat as he tugged on it, "sensitive," You rocked your hips up into his cock feeling it start to rub between your folds.

"Oh?" Scaramouche taunted, rubbing and pinching the tip, "You don't look like you mind," He kept a hold of your ear as he rubbed his cock between your drooling folds. He chuckled seeing you squirm underneath him.

The ever present pinches to the tip of your ear made your clit swell and throb more. Your pussy clenched around the head of his leaking cock as it prodded against your entrance. "Please, I don't want to do anything but cum on my Archon's cock," You couldn't believe how shameless you sounded.

You been long since content with Scaramouche stripping away and corrupting your innocence.

Scaramouche snickered, squeezing your ear as he pushed his cock inside of you. Your walls immediately clamped around his cock. "Such a slut, begging to be bred by your Archon," He groaned, bottoming out with a snap of his hips.

He put one of your legs over his shoulder, bending it up towards your chest to fuck his cock deeper into you. Your pussy was just as worshipping on his cock as your words are, an embarrassed blush coating his cheeks from not being able to hold back his own moans.

Your hands scrambled to latch onto him in any way you could. "Can I cum? Pretty please, I'll be a good girl," You pleaded, your body twitching in bliss as his cock head drove into your sweet spot.

Scaramouche laughed shakily. He was going to let you cum, rest assured. It was just oh so sweet to hear you beg for it. For a moment, the look in his eyes softened. You indulged him, stroked his ego, cried and begged for him. He'd long since discovered what a treasure you truly are. "Prove it, be a good girl and cum on your Master's cock," Your cry of bliss made his cock pulse cum inside of you.

You mewled in bliss, the pulsing of his cock emptying inside of you making you cum on his cock. "My Archon's cock feels so.." You babbled almost incoherently behind moans, "so good."

Scaramouche indulged himself in fucking his cum back inside of you, collapsing on top of you when he was satisfied. His head dropped down into your neck. "Get dressed," He murmured into your neck, nuzzling against it, "I need you by the side for the rest of day," He carefully hide the blush coating his cheeks, "and night," He added.

"Of course," You replied, stroking a hand through his hair.

[miyuhpapayuh]

sex entry #4

Ass back high in the air, jiggling like jello as her lover slides inside her wet paradise, already grunting up a storm from how good she feels.

She's gripping for the sheets as he drags his dick back and forth, little resistance from dedicated foreplay.

“Oh my god,” is what she'd been saying all night, sounding like a broken record.

But what else could she say?

It felt too good to put into words.

“Oh my god, what?” He mocks, turning her on.

“It feels so good!”

His thrusts get deeper and a little faster, making her gasp and tighten around him, making him moan and bare down on her hips, pressing her into the bed.

“Oh my goddddd,” they moan in unison.

“That's the spot, huh?”

“Yes! I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum,”

“Let it out baby,”

“Don't stop,” she whines, “fuckkk, don't stop!”

“Cum on this dick, baby,” his encouragement sent her over the cliff, diving deep into that orgasm she'd been dying for, for a couple of days.

She wasn't sure what kind of noises she made, but she knew her audience was loving it.

“I'm cumming again,” she moans, reaching back to push him even deeper.

“Ohh, like that?”

“Yess,” she breathes, drooling into the mattress, “fuck mee,”

“Keep cumming on this dick, baby,” he smacks her ass, before grabbing both arms up behind her back, moving faster and digging right into her spot.

“Oh fuccckk! Just like that, justtt like that!”

Repositioning with his foot up on the bed, he drives up into her, making her eyes roll back.

“Yess, yesss!”

“This how you wanted it?”

“Yes, daddy! Yess!”

“Nut on this dick,”

“Oooh shit, don't st-stop!”

“Why not?”

“I'm cumming, I'm cumming!” She whimpers, going limp in his hold.

“How much?”

“Sooo much, daddy,” she whispers, squeezing him as the remnants of her orgasm shake through her, forcing him to pull out for a moment and gather himself.

“Shittt,” he sighs, rubbing against her clit, watching the way she twitched at the sensation, before sliding back inside.

Leaning up on her hands, she meets him thrust for thrust, loving how his grip on her tightens.

“Fuuck, you tryna make me nut!”

She smiles like he can see her, continuing to throw her ass back in his lap.

Gripping the bottom of her shirt up, he watches in amazement as she bounces, soft brown cheeks clapping in a perfect circle.

“Get that shit, baby,”

Amped up, she circles her hips before slowly rocking up and down, making him hiss as her pussy grips him tight.

“Shit, baby,” he moans, “pussy so good!”

“Just for you, daddy,” she bites her lip, her rocking coming to a teasing crawl as he shudders behind her, gripping her hips.

“Fuckk,” he tucks her legs tight underneath her, thrusting up into her again, making her mouth fall open.

He frees up a hand to grip her wild hair, keeping her in position as he pistons his hips into her ass.

Her eyes roll back at the overwhelming pleasure, the urge to cry sitting behind her closed lids.

“Oh my— fuck, oh my god,” she whimpers, feeling the tears slide down her hot face as he fucks her good.

“Fuccck, how you feelin’ baby?”

“S-so good,” she squeaks, wiping her face, “soooo good, baby!”

“You love me, don't you?”

“Yes, yesss, I do!”

“I love you too, mamas.”

“Oh my god, I'm gonna cum,” she gasps, her eyes crossing at the feeling creeping up her clit.

“I'm cummin, too,” he grunts, slamming into her as their orgasms hit simultaneously, a blend of curses and moans filling the room.

@abeautifulmindexposed @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @consent-is-king @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @ghostfacekill-monger @thegifstories @xo-goldengirl @dbaileyblog @blackpinup22 @kumkaniudaku @starcrossedxwriter @theereina @dabratzchronicles @hotgrlcece

[twola]

may i request some slow and lazy spooning sex with high honor arthur? with some thorough aftercare at the end?😳

Morning Light

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader  Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

The first vestiges of the dawn creep through the canvas of the tent, the red-purple light from the east spills across a small hole in the fabric. You blink yourself awake, clutching at the old quilt that covers you.

Stretching in the cot, you realize quickly that though the morning chill rolls inside the flimsy walls of the tent, you are warm.

Incredibly warm. Warm and secure and, lord, it’s wonderful. A heavy arm slung over your waist keeps you grounded as you are unable to stifle a small sound as you arch your back slightly.

“Mornin’ there, sweetheart.”

You smile, the arm round your waist tightening as his voice is still hoarse with sleep.

“When did’ya get back?”

His lips press against your neck as he draws you impossibly close, so that all of you is plastered against all of him.

“Late. You were dead to the world when I got back, darlin’.”

“Well why didn’t you wake me up?” You pout softly, threading your fingers through his against your belly.

“Ain’t no reason to wake you up. ‘Sides, you’re a veritable Sleepin’ Beauty there.”

You cannot help but to smile, drawing his hand to your lips and kissing his knuckles. You settle it against your chest, fingers still intertwined.

“You know how much I like you crawling into bed with me,” you laugh softly; and you can feel the chuckle in his chest

“I do. But I think you like wakin’ up like this too.”

Your hand reaches backward to card your fingers through his hair as he kisses at your earlobe, drawing the hemline of your chemise up to bare your rear and hips to him. He groans quietly when he finds that you did not wear bloomers to sleep in.

Sliding his hands between your thighs, your neck arches back into him as you open your legs, letting him softly touch the parts of you only he gets to see.

“Arthur…” you sigh, bliss obvious with how breathy your voice has become.

Underneath that old quilt, his hand works blasphemous miracles, making you swear on the Lord’s name as his fingers dance across your most intimate skin. After moments that leave you whining, knuckles white from gripping the side of the cot, he withdraws, and you want to cry out loud from the loss of his hand.

Arthur tilts your head toward him and leans over you, pressing his lips against yours in a smothering kiss.

With his other hand, he deftly unbuttons his union suit and draws out his cock, pumping it several times under that quilt as his tongue plays with yours.

With a light push, he turns you fully back on your side as he grasps your hip, burying his face in your unbound hair as he presses the head of his cock through the rim of your cunt. Your hand flies to grasp the side of the cot again as you squeeze your eyes shut, biting your lip. Taking your lover is always a stretch, the girth of him pushing into your body burns for that first moment.

But he is gentle. For a man so practiced in violence and force, when he splits you with his flesh, he coos sweet nothings in your ear, rubs at your hip, kisses up and down your neck. Praises you, his love, with all the sweetness of a man smitten and drowning in affection.

By the time he is fully sheathed, his hand leaves your hip to draw your hair back so that he can press his cheek against your temple, looming over you with his much bigger frame. Arthur rocks his hips once, experimentally, within the confines of his cot, and you let out a breath raggedly as the column of him withdraws and fills you again.

In the solitude and quiet of the morning, the chill creeping in from outside, under the blankets he gently thrusts his hips into yours, cocooning the warmth of your bodies together as you lay side by side in the cot.

“One of these days, “ he rumbles, whispering in your ear as he moves against you, “I’m gonna stay, I’m gonna fill you ‘nd god, you’re gonna be so perfect all swollen up with my child.”

You mewl, unconsciously clenching down on him, making him gasp raggedly as he slows down. Breathing out harshly through his nose, he grits out his response, “Ain’t gonna last if you do that.”

“Ar-Arthur- god, y’ cant just say that-”

With a barely concealed groan, he thrusts himself into you hard before retracting his hips in the nick of time, his spend splattering hot on your ass as he pants in your ear. You shudder, your cunt drenching as you come also, wishing desperately that he could have stayed where he was.

Your fingers remain tightly wound against each other as you come down, he pants into the back of your neck for several moments before slowly unwrapping his hand from yours and and leaning the other direction, extricating himself from you to get up from the cot and grabbing his black neckerchief from the small table against the side of the tent.

He returns and wipes his spend gently from your skin, pulling you to lay down on your back as he dips the cloth between your legs, your slick smeared between your thighs that he quietly cleans from you. Arthur smiles fondly down at you as he draws his hand away, tossing the neckerchief in a pile of dirty clothes next to his shaving stand.

With one knee on the cot, he leans over you to press his lips against yours for a quick kiss, but you pout and throw your arms around his neck, trying to pull him down back to the cot. The idea of you pulling him down was laughable, but you try nonetheless.

“Lay with me.”

Arthur frowns, “I should really get the day goin’…”

“Please.” You whine, tugging at the neckline of his union suit, and his frown melts away as he chuckles softly, moving to lay down next to you once again. You nearly squeal in delight, scooting in the cot to give him room. You turn to lay on your side, facing him, as he does the same. Throwing your leg over his hip, you once again thread your fingers through his hair as you pull his lips to yours.

As the morning light invades the tent, it finds the two of you there, wrapped up in each other, staving off the day for at least one more moment.

[kakashisbabymama218]

there’s something about seeing big, strong, scary copy nin kakashi on his knees, lapping desperately at your cunt that drives me crazy.

you weren’t expecting him to drop to his knees practically the second you both walked through your front door. one of his hands coming up to pull his mask down, the other pushing your dress up until it was pooling around your stomach, giving him the perfect view of the black thong you had on underneath.

he’s in so much of a hurry that he doesn’t even bother pulling them down your legs, instead, he takes one of your legs and lets it rest on his shoulder, two of his fingers pushing the thin material off to the side.

kakashi whines when your bare cunt is finally exposed, its high pitched and desperate, a sound that he’ll only ever allow you to hear slip past his lips. he pushes his face into your pussy, and takes a deep breathe, inhaling your intoxicating scent before his tongue is poking out from between his lips and he's licking a long stripe from your tight entrance all the way up to your puffy clit.

“mmm kashi—” you gasp when he places a soft kiss to your swollen nub, hands instantly tangling in his silver strands and giving an experimental tug. he’s hard as a rock, his thick cock remains ignored, straining against the fabric of his underwear, kakashi’s too busy trying to push his face deeper into your cunt to worry about himself right now.

"fuck baby, you taste so fucking good." he has to force his face away from your heat, gasping for air before he's diving right back in, tongue lapping at your clit over and over, warm and wet, and just the right amount of pressure that has the one leg your standing buckling under the pleasure that surges through your body.

he licks his way back down to your fluttering entrance, tentatively pushing his tongue into the tight hole.

"fuckkk kakashi— feels s'fucking good" you moan as you begin grinding your cunt harder against his face.

he lets the hand that’s not holding your panties to the side slip down to find his aching cock, palming himself over his pants to try and relieve some of the pressure from being ignored for so long.

kakashi lets his eyes flutter shut as he loses himself to the pleasure. he lets you guide your messy cunt back and forth against his tongue, lets you use him to chase the orgasm he knows is approaching.

long fingers fumble with the button on his pants, quickly undoing it and pushing them down enough to allow his cock to spring free, his long, fat dick slapping against his stomach.

he wraps his hand around the base, stroking himself slowly, trying not to cum to quickly, but the feeling of your clit against his tongue has him close already.

"gonna cum" you warn him. all he can do is moan in response, the ironclad grip you have on his hair preventing him from doing anything else.

it doesn't take long, seconds later your crying out, cumming on kakashi's tongue, coating his pretty face in your essence.

kakashi cums seconds later, fisting his cock hard and fast as he paints the floor beneath you white with his seed.

kakashi doesn't bother to warn you before he's picking you up bridal style and carrying you towards your bedroom, tossing you down gently on the bed.

"i'll clean that up later" he says as he crawls between your legs.

[chelseeebe]

there’s a honey

title based on there’s a honey - pale waves

i would give you my body but am i sure that you want me?

the one where eddie’s probably in love with you and yet you can’t even be seen in public with him.

kinda really angsty and sad i’m sorry

18+. mdni. smut. r is kinda very mean to poor eds here, maybe there’s a ltitle redemption/hope at the end.. who knows. modern au i guess.

eddie’s not supposed to be doing this, your number had been deleted and he knows he should’ve just let it ring out.

but he’d recognised those last three digits and hadn’t be able to help himself. at least this time he’d let it ring out a couple of times before picking up.

and now here he was, hand fisting your shirt, pulling it tight around your waist as he slams his hips against your doughy ass, the bed frame matching his pace as it slams against the wall.

he felt terrible.

chrissy was probably somewhere across campus waiting for him to text back while he was here, balls deep in the girl he’d sworn off last week.

they weren’t together, he’s not even sure if they’re talking but he knew he at least liked her. thought she was cute and not mean to him, but truthfully, she’s not you. she’s never going to be you.

and he’s not stupid enough to think that while you’re still in his life, they could ever be anything.

nobody else that he had ever had sex with had ever felt like this, not that it were a long list of people but still. he thinks that’s what keeps him coming crawling back every single time.

“oh my god,” you whine, arms collapsing underneath you as you fall into the mattress. moving back against him in unison, his palm coming to slap your ass, his handprint lingering.

he takes that as a sign to keep going, slamming into you with such ferocity that the sound echoes through the tiny room. the wooden bed frame close to smashing through the drywall.

“fuck,” he grunts, keeping his grip tight on your shirt, “you feel so fucking good,” unable to contain his babbles. breath becoming laboured as you squeeze around him.

your noises are muffled, face pressed into the blanket as you incoherently mumble what he thinks is his name. he can tell you’re close just by the way you’re breathing. he’s had years of experience, learnt every trick in the book to get you there before he was.

he lands another smack to your ass before pressing his chest to your back, lips sloppily connecting to the back of your neck, pressing you further into his rocking bed.

this new position allows him deeper, nudging himself against your sweet spot, just about able to keep his body hovering over yours.

“shit.. i’m close eds don’t stop,” you whine breathlessly but he already knows that. can feel himself teetering on the edge though it is absolutely necessary that you go first.

“i know.. i know,” he pants, sweaty body melting together as his pace falters, giving you everything he had for the last however many seconds.

your legs begin to shake from underneath him, fist balling his tousled bedsheets while his name falls from your lips like some kind of prayer. eddie will never tire of hearing you whine and cry his name nor the way you clench around him, turning to mush right before his eyes.

it’s the only time you’re ever soft, malleable even.

“that’s it,” he soothes, open mouth pressed to your clammy skin, hand finding your hand and resting his palm on your white knuckles as he topples over.

“fuck.. oh fuck,” he pants, slamming into your quivering cunt, painting your walls with his load, his forehead falling to the skin between your shoulder blades, head spinning a hundred miles an hour.

his arms let out, collapsing on top of you, breathing into the crook of your neck as he regains any sort of semblance of control. he eventually rolls off, outstretched on the tiny slither of bed as you come to.

“jesus,” he weeps, pulling his boxers back up around his waist, the elastic dealing a harsh snap to his skin.

you don’t honour his words with a reply, turning to lean back against the pillow, readjusting your t-shirt. you’d be off soon, he can sense it. not so long ago, you’d maybe stay the night but now it was out of the question.

eddie misses it dearly, maybe it was his fucked up way of playing make-believe for a little while but he missed it nonetheless.

“you going to tina’s party?” he asks from the pillow, eyes narrowed as you shift around.

“yeah i think so,” you shrug, readjusting your bra straps. you’re itching to leave, christ, you won’t even entertain him with a little pillow talk now.

“who’re you going with?”

you sigh, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, not willing to entertain this conversation, “i’m not sure yet,” grabbing your discarded clothes with a haste.

“why don’t we just go together?” he asks, knowing that it’ll probably push you over the edge. he can’t help himself, has never been able to understand why you’re so evasive about your relationship.

“oh my god eddie,” you frown before slipping into the connected bathroom, eddie jumps up from the bed, he’s not gonna let you run away from him again.

“oh so you are still doing this?” eddie asks, following you into the bathroom. he stands in the doorway, watching as you comb your fingers through your hair.

“doing what?”

“pretending that you don’t want me,” he pokes his finger into his temple, “playing your weird fucking game that nobody else understands,” he should stop there, but he doesn’t, “you know, nobody cares if you fuck the freak, we’re in college now, right? you’re the only one that gives a shit,” it’s truly cathartic to get it all out but he knows he’s going to regret it.

“what?” you mutter, speechless. confused why he’d just unloaded all of this onto you seemingly out of nowhere. spinning on your heel to face him, still half-dressed and disheveled.

“you heard me. and you know what? maybe i understood why you didn’t want anyone to know in high school but we’re adults now, you can’t pretend that you’re still worried about people finding out,” the scowl deep-set and unbudging on his lips.

“well i don’t want you eddie,” your face turning sour, jabbing your finger into his chest. “maybe you’ve deluded yourself into thinking that this- the sex, means more than it does, but it doesn’t,” you’re angry now, he’s got you riled up, exactly how he wanted, “i don’t care if you’re a nerd or you play board games or whatever the fuck it is that you do, i just don’t want anyone to know that i’m fucking you.”

your words are bitter, sharp even. slicing through his chest with harsh force. it’s not true, he knows that much. it’s no secret that you do care about that shit, you’ve made that abundantly clear over the years.

he just can’t understand why you still think anybody else cares. everybody’s too busy to give a shit about outdated cliques and who’s fucking who. it’s your worst-kept secret anyway, by the end of the night you were always hanging off of his arm or pulling him out of whichever bar you’d both coincidentally fallen into.

“you’re a liar,” eddie bites, levelling his eyes to yours, “even you don’t believe that,” he steps closer, brows knitted together as you rage on.

“fuck you,” you spit, deciding to do something he could’ve never expected. smashing your lips to his, it’s a short, passionate kiss, your fingers twisting into his shirt before he pushes you off.

“you’re fucked in the head,” he utters, voice full of sorrow. he pities you, truly. because he knows that if you’d just shake whatever weird self-doubt you still carried, that the two of you could be good together.

you push past him, pulling your jeans on as you grab the rest of your belongings. you’ve done this before, plenty of times. stormed out of here because eddie had asked you a question you didn’t like, only to call him up next weekend begging for his attention.

and he gave it, time and time again.

at your mercy, completely.

it’s the only way he’d known, not enough self-respect to end it completely. and even now, when it feels different, permanent somehow, he knows you’ll be back.

“don’t call me again,” eddie calls out, still lingering in the doorway, “i mean it, delete my number, block me, whatever. just don’t fucking come back,” his arms folded over his chest, like he meant it this time.

“oh i won’t, don’t worry,” turning to face him one last time, eyes full of spite before you disappear into the hallway, not for the last time.

-

unbelievably, the two of you had gone weeks of no-contact.

not even a drunken text to lure him over. nothing. nada. zilch.

eddie had taken that as a sign and asked chrissy if she wanted to go to the party together, at least this time he hadn’t been met with slamming doors and a screaming match.

she’d helped him do his makeup, dotted fake blood around his mouth and made them take a picture for her instagram, an incredibly foreign experience to what he’d ever had with you.

you’d taken selfies before, stupid ones that never saw the light of day. lounging in bed with a joint hanging out of your lips, refusing to ever send them to him incase he did something unthinkable. like post them or dare show anyone.

he shakes his head as if to rid his brain of the memory, trying to zone in on whatever bullshit chrissy’s friend heather was droning on about. he can’t focus, not when he knows you’re here.

see, it’s different when you’re apart. he can compartmentalise you, all of your memories, bury you in the back of his brain and enjoy the time he had with chrissy. it’s like you’ve infected him, weaving your web throughout his mind.

eddie’s phone buzzes in his pocket, pulling him out of the hole he’d burrowed himself into.

those familiar three digits flash across the screen.

bathroom 5 mins

he hasn’t even seen you yet, not that he had been keeping an eye out (he had). he shifts over from where he and chrissy sat squished on the couch, too engrossed in the conversation to have seen his phone.

“i’m just gonna go to the bathroom,” he smiles, guilt running through his veins, “get me another beer?” using that as an excuse to not do anything stupid.

though he knows himself, knows you too and most certainly knows that won’t happen.

“okay,” she grins, none the wiser, making him feel so much worse. her halloween costume was completely different to anything you’d ever worn, opting for a cute little rabbit as opposed to the ridiculously sexy getup you usually had on.

he wonders what you’ve chosen for this year, what low-cut, revealing outfit will have him on his knees, regretting his decisions this time around.

there are hoards of people everywhere, crowding the hall as he tries to shuffle through, not even bothering to knock as he reaches the bathroom.

he slips inside, quickly locking the door behind him as you sit perched against the sink. he was right. you’re in some tiny red dress, horns adorning your head. it’s fitting, really.

“so you didn’t block me,” you state, smug as shit as you lean against the white porcelain.

eddie just rolls his eyes, “is that all you wanted to say?” his hand already clamped around the door handle. it’s an empty threat, he’s not going without a fight, or a kiss, but probably both.

you bite down onto your bottom lip, the red lipstick already slightly smudged, “i missed you,” squeezing the words out, as if they physically hurt to verbalise.

“me? or my dick?”

“can’t it be both?” you smirk, pushing yourself from the sink to near him.

“not if you’re lying about the first one,” keeping his head stood tall, not letting his gaze wander, no matter how much he wanted to peer down your dress.

“i’m not,” placing your hand on his chest, looking at his lips rather than his eyes, “you didn’t miss me?”

you’re so.. so terrible. for him. as a person. whichever.

because he knows that you know he can’t resist. all you have to do is bat your eyelashes and speak softly to him and he’s right back at your feet. eddie wants to be stronger this time. to turn around and march out of here with his dignity still in tact.

but then your hand creeps lower, fingernails dragging down his unbuttoned shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake and he knows he’s fallen for it again.

“of course i did,” he whispers, barely audible because even he doesn’t want to hear it.

“who’s that girl you’re with?” you question, fingers lingering at his belt buckle, gaze flickering between his eyes and his parched lips.

“chrissy,” he feels like a dick for even speaking her name right now.

“she’s cute. she your girlfriend now?” teasing him, drawing a line down to his crotch your finger.

his breath hitches in his throat, wetting his lips, “no.. she’s- uh,” stuttering when your palm meets his dick, already rising in his pants.

“she’s what?” grinning devilishly, hah.

“she’s waiting for me,” he chokes out, just about remembering that he’d asked her for another beer.

“why don’t you run along back to her then?” knowing full well that he wouldn’t. couldn’t even.

the words tangle in his throat, coming out in a squeak, “tell me- tell me that this is just sex and i will,” finding a spurt of courage from somewhere deep within.

you don’t reply, keeping a firm hand on his shifting jeans, “eddie,” more as a warning than anything else.

“or tell me you want me,” swallowing the lump lodged in his throat, “and i’ll stay,” he’s pathetic, begging for an inch of your love, just a little of your heart.

“i can’t.. i can’t be who you want me to be,” you choke, dropping your palm from his zipper, hanging limp as you back away.

“why?” reeking of desperation, pitying himself more than you ever could, “i don’t.. i don’t understand,” the party bounces on outside and eddie can’t think of anything worse than having to go back out there with teary eyes and a tent in his jeans.

you turn away from him, keeping your palms pressed to the porcelain as you stare into the basin, “why don’t you just leave? i’m not going to have this conversation with you again,” point blank refusing to even look at him anymore.

eddie scoffs, swallowing his despair to make one last statement, “you’ve ruined my life,” choking back his cry before swinging the door open, elbowing his way through the crowd.

he pushes past drunk assholes until he reaches the front door, storming out onto the sidewalk, gasping as the fresh air hits his nose. all he wants is to scream, or puke or maybe both. he can feel the eyes of concerned partygoers as he stumbles out onto the street.

everything sounds weird, metallic like ringing through his ears until a familiar voice calls out from the doorway.

“eddie?”

[husbandhoshi]

all these asks are so cute omg wait i just saw this !! if you're still doing them i'd love to hear about jun please :3

mdni underneath the cut!

it's nights like these where you're thankful soundproof walls exist. ("soundproof", heavy on the air quotes. you're 90% sure the hotel concierge mentioned something like that when junhui had checked in. the other 10% of your poor brain was figuring out how to deal with the vibrator in your cunt.)

the silk sheets of the bed feel endless, cool like water against your skin. you lie on your back, feeling the bite of your fingernails in your thighs as you hold them open. between them, junhui's kneeling figure.

earlier, your fiancé had given you your first birthday gift of the day. double holiday, he had called it. double the gifts. naively, you had thought it was makeup, maybe a new perfume. instead, you had undone the big bow, unwrapped the sparkly paper, and found, instead, the vibrator. quickly, you had felt all the blood rush to your cheeks, then, downstairs. even more quickly, junhui had you bent over his knee, watching you take every inch of your new gift. (the second gift: the most beautiful necklace you had ever seen. the price, even more outrageous.)

"c-can't," you breathe. your voice crawls its way from your chest, curls in your throat. "wanna cum...feels too good."

he responds with a cruel tilt of his head, a smile playing on his lips. "you're almost there, darling. show me how good you are."

delirious, you nod. almost there, you repeat, your mind treading over those two words despite the pleasure. you had already endured a phone call with your best friend (in which junhui had decided to try out all the intensity settings on his phone) and your birthday dinner (in which you wore a dress with no panties, and he couldn't seem to get his hands off your thighs). you could do this, a few minutes more.

through your frosted vision, you watch junhui palm himself over his jeans, rough, desperate. without thinking, you whimper, feeling yourself tighten around the toy. compared to feeling him, this was nothing. this didn't hug your sweet spot, didn't fill you til you couldn't breathe, didn't rock against your clit just how you needed, not like junhui did.

fuck. now you're thinking about junhui fucking you, which is not helping your situation. if you're lucky, he'd do it tonight, with your ankles over his shoulders.

"you're soaked," he murmurs, voice quiet, reverent. he parts your legs a touch wider, his touch searing into you, so that you are fully on display. "so cute."

like this, you can feel everything, the cold air of the room you're in, the way his gaze seems to haunt your skin. a few gasping breaths, oh, even just a breath too deep would send you over, but you're determined to be good, no, better than good. you squeeze your eyes shut, letting your lips fall open in another noise somewhere between a moan and a pathetic hiccup--no longer can you tell the difference.

it's then that junhui sees this gasping window of opportunity and places two long fingers in your mouth, right against your tongue, and watches as you gag. "you know what to do, pretty girl," he tells you, and you do. like a dog, you suck, dreaming about him doing the same with his cock. traitorously, your hips rock up at the mere thought, oh, all the pressure in your belly might just make you explode.

but junhui is never cruel, never unloving to his favorite girl, the only one he's loved like this. so with these fingers, covered in your desperation, he trails them down your trembling neck, the curve of your tits, swollen from his mouth, over your stomach, and presses them to your puffy clit.

no words come to you, instead just a cry, shuddering, one that rips through your body. a white-hot feeling erupts inside you, one like fireworks, and you cum around the vibrator, again and again and again, as junhui works you with two fingers alone.

you're gone, somewhere unspeakable, too high to tell him again, again, i want more. luckily, he's always been able to read your mind. a long gasp, a reaching hand, a hot mouth over yours; before you know it, the vibrator is god knows where, replaced by junhui's cock, heavy on your abdomen.

"ready for round two?"

[onlinedolly]

tw: submissive erwin, mentions of pregnancy, some mild degrading, p in v, edging

submission doesn’t come easy to erwin, he was the leader, the one who gave orders, the one in charge. so when he meets you, shorter then him and (he was sure) weaker, all he can think about is pinning you down and fucking you until you’re a mess. but— that wasn’t you. you weren’t a submissive person, someone to toss around and fuck as they please, and when erwin would do subtle things to display his dominance you saw it as a challenge.

getting erwin to fuck you wasn’t hard, low cut shirts and faux innocent looks had you in his bedroom in no time. he was immediately handsy, touching your waist, you lower back, and when he found the nerve to bring his hands up to grope your tits you pushed his hands away with a tut, “not now, baby. not yet.”

erwin was bewildered, as any man in his position of power would be, he stepped back with furrowed brows. “oh a bossy little thing, ain’t cha?” he coos, “don’t forget who’s in charge.”

oh. you wouldn’t. you laughed softly to yourself, “lay on the bed?” it was meant to be a question, a testing of the waters to see if erwin would follow what you said. he smirked to himself before plopping on the bed, unbuttoning his shirt. you knew then, you had him right where you wanted him, where you needed him. he wasn’t all dominance, not as much as he wanted to be, and you were going to chisel away at it until all that was left was a whimpering boy.

“yeah? wanna ride me sweet girl?” he smiles cockily, leaving just enough of his shirt unbuttoned to give you a view on his chest. “normally i start out with you on all fours but we can play it this way too.”

“sure.” you spoke, walking between his legs and pushing back on him until he was laying flat against the bed. you crawled above him legs on either side of his waist as you sat up, watching from above as his face turned from confusion to one of slight irritation.

“don’t forget who’s in charge him, angel.” he bites out, gripping the thick of your thighs making you smirk.

“oh believe me, baby. i know who’s in charge.” you bite out a laugh before sinking down against his body, placing kisses along his jaw as he hums underneath you. you travel the kisses down to his pulse point before biting down, rough and hard and it makes him cry out before pulling you back by your hair with a snarl.

“the fuck was that for? stop being such a bit— oh.” you’d thumbed at his nipple, a soft touch that has him mewl underneath you for a second before he recollects himself and pulls at your hair harder, “behave.”

you pinch his nipple and you can feel him jerk himself up, humping the air in attempt to alleviate the suffocating feeling of his hard cock. “do you want to get fucked?” you ask looking down at him, a glimmer in your eye that made him shiver.

“yes but—“

“then behave.” you threw his words back at him.

“what the fuck— oh god.” his curses turn to moans as you lean back and squeeze his clothed cock in your hand.

“behave and i’ll fuck you, let you cum inside me like i know you want, or i can leave you with no release.” you smile sadistically, “bring you to the brink over and over and then just…stop.” you worked your way backward, pressing your ass against his large cock as you scrape your nails down his chest.

erwin was mumbling all sorts of things at this point, disagreeing with you, cursing at you, but it all fell of deaf ears as you realized he wasn’t resisting. he could curse all he want but he still laid underneath you, cock rock hard as you rocked your ass against him. you knew whole heartedly then, that it wasn’t going to take much more to break him. turn him into putty in your hands. you sunk down then, unbuckling his belt as you slipped his cock out.

“we’re going to play a game, yeah?” you look up at him, not acknowledging his cock, not gawking over it like so many women had done in the past, and it made him feel a little emasculated if he was honest. “i’ll fuck you— but, first i’ll jerk you off. and you’re not to come, do you understand?”

“no what the fuck. you told me i could cum—“

“you will. if you behave. now do you understand?”

erwin snarls, teeth exposed as he grips the bed sheets in frustration, “are you fucking ser—?”

“do. you. understand?” you cut him off, thumbing his tip and he cries out, jolting his hips upward. “i won’t ask again, baby. i don’t like to repeat himself.”

erwin was desperate, it’d been so long since he sunk himself into a wet cunt, especially someone’s who was so attractive, so he found himself nodding. a meek yes leaving his lips and he shivered again in the way your eyes lit up in nothing less then pure sadism.

in the span of an hour you had worked him to an almost release twelve times, he started out cursing, telling you what a sick bitch you were for finding enjoyment in this, but by the fourth time you had almost worked him there you could see the tears forming in his eyes and the way the look in his face glazed over into something you easily recognized: submission. honestly, your plan was to stop after the sixth time, but he began crying, full fat tears around the fifth time and it fueled you to see how far you could push him. he began pleading around the seventh time, ‘please’ and ‘i’m behaving i promise’ left his mouth over and over again as you squeezed his tip repeatedly. the ninth time he almost came, his body locked up and you had to remind him he was so close to feeling how wet you’d gotten for him and he pushed the feeling down, pussy drunk without even having a taste yet.

finally the twelfth time you took your hand away and he cried out, and when you slipped your panties off, a string of slick present and on view for him as your panties made their way down your legs, any dominance that was present before had been zapped from his body. the thoughts from before, on pinning you beneath him and showing you how a real man takes pussy, had been replaced with the desperation to just feel you sink on top of him. and that you did, you cooed out, told him what a good boy he was, and lined yourself up with his thick cock. the stretch his cock gave was other worldly, it made you clamp down on him hard and he let out a loud scream. he was already sensitive from the stroking so to feel your pussy around him in a vice grip it made him release a new set of big fat overwhelmed tears.

“did so so good.” you mewl out as you take your time to sink down on his cock, you were letting him take you in, your tight hole and plushy walls, the way you leaked down his length as you slowly slowly inched yourself down. and when he had finally adjusted to the speed you were going, finally content in the way you were letting him get used to you, you slammed yourself down hard on him, taking the rest of him in one thrust downward as you cried out. “jesus fuck—“ you scream out the same time erwin lets a animalistic sound release from his chest. “tell me how much you like it.” you looked down at him, hair covering part of your face as you kept that same sadistic smile across your face.

erwin was having trouble finding words, placing them together to make a coherent sentence as you stilled your movements waiting for his praise, “feels so—“ he took a deep breath, “feels better then anything in the world darling.” he let the words tumble out of his mouth as his head dug into the pillow, eyes clamped shut.

“i know.” you smirk, before rocking your hips, feeling his pelvis against your clit. you mewl and decide to not be so mean as you pick yourself up and slam back down against his cock. erwin can’t do much but scream and cry at this point, overwhelmed and exhausted he lays against the bed and takes it as you fuck yourself hard and fast on him. erwin prefers slower strokes, slow hard thrusts that way his partner could feel all of him, but the fast pace you were going nearly put stars in his eyes.

you were becoming a mess too, praises falling from your mouth as you rubbed your clit and bounced up and down on him. his cock was pressing against your gspot and it was making you weak in the knees, your thrusts were turning frantic as you neared your high. “you gonna cum soon, baby? cmon cum for me—“ you whine out, as you felt your high approaching, “fuck a baby into me. i know you want to, look at that desperate face.” the thought of getting you pregnant made erwin’s head spin, he was close enough as it was, and the thought of you pregnant had cum spurting out of him as your cunt clamped around him. you came together, his hot cum spurting deep inside of you, filling you up fast with a hot sensation as your body shook ontop of him.

you’d fucked erwin into submission, and you were already wondering if you could do it again.

[shamelessmaia]

jason dilaurentis fic brainworms

found this in the depths of my notes…i’m not sure how i feel about it

18+ under the cut :]

this was wrong. you knew it was. yet you just couldn’t help yourself as you slipped out of Alison’s room, sneaking over into Jason’s, finding him asleep in only a pair of pyjama pants, leaving his oh-so gorgeous abs right on display for you. it wasn’t your fault that you got horny! he just looked so delicious, he must’ve known what he was doing to you!

you really tried to keep things PG-13 as you slipped into bed next to him, but as your boyfriend’s arm slipped around your stomach, as he pulled you into his defined chest, you couldn’t help it! you needed him. his crotch was perfectly lined up with your ass and you had talked about this sort of thing before…waking the other up with sex was something that you two liked experimenting with…so why not try it right now?

you slipped out of his arms, instead gently pushing Jason onto his back to start gently kissing your way down his chest, his abs and eventually his hipbones. the softest groan made its way out of his mouth and you could’ve sworn your panties suddenly got 100% wetter.

after teasing his sleeping form by nuzzling into his half-hard dick, you had had enough and pulled him out of his boxers.

you never really got used to how big he was. there was the prettiest drop of precum at his tip and you eagerly licked at it, craving to feel him in your throat for days to come.

you traced the veins on his cock with your tongue, feeling him shudder underneath you. you took him into your mouth inch by inch until your nose touched his pubic bone. after starting to drool, you made it your life’s mission to give your pretty boyfriend the best head of his life; sucking his tip, licking up the pretty veins, gently raking your nails over his abs… everything felt so good with jason. eventually once he woke up with a groan and raked his fingers through your hair, gently tugging on the strands as his hips moved in sync with your head bobbing.

“god baby…you always make me feel so damn good.”

he groaned out, his head falling backside against his pillow, and you could’ve sworn you felt your clit throb. you whined around his dick, wanting to feel it inside of you sooner rather than later…

“what is it babygirl? tell me what you want, c’mon, use your words.”

he pulled you off of his rock hard cock, a few strings of saliva connecting your mouth to his tip. you clenched around nothing at the sight.

“jase…please…you know what i want.”

“…do i? you have to use your words baby, i don’t know what you want.”

you were two seconds away from literally crawling into his lap and showing him what the hell you wanted, yet you didn’t have a chance to do anything as Jason flipped your positions until your body was underneath his…his hair fell in front of his eyes as he gazed into yours…fuck. he always looked so handsome without even trying.

“…i want you to fuck me…please…?”

your words were so sweetly spoken, there was no way he could say no to you…he just wanted to test your patience first.

“okay baby, but i need to prep you first…i wouldn’t want your pretty pussy to be sore because of me…”

you felt like sobbing in relief as those gorgeous hands of his slipped into your panties, sliding them down your legs. you thought he’d just finger your and get the prep over with, yet you realised his intentions once he placed your legs over his shoulders and he made his home in between your thighs. you practically wanted to cry out of pleasure as his tongue made contact with your clit, yet you knew you couldn’t be loud with Alison and the others down the hall, asleep. you clamped your hand over your mouth as Jason made out with your pussy, practically worshipping it as he kissed and licked it before spitting right on your hole, making you arch your back. it was humiliating how quickly you got close to cumming. by the time you realised you were going to cum, Jason backed off, instead letting you heave as he softly kissed your inner thighs.

you should’ve known he wasn’t going to let you cum that quickly.

[hitomisuzuya]

HIIYYA

scaramouche and kunikuzushi x reader where they both take turns fucking her and kuni is praising her while scara degrades her💯💯

Threesome. Scaramouche x fem!reader. Kunikuzushi x fem!reader. Smut. Praise (Kunikuzushi) Heavy Degradation (Scaramouche) Filthy brain rot.

😳😳 Praise from Kuni in one ear and degradation from Scaramouche in the other. Mmm😳

If Kunikuzushi thought Scaramouche was going to let him fuck you first then he had another thing coming. He smacked Kunikuzushi's hands away when they reached out for you. "Hands off, brat. I'll be fucking this pathetic slut first,"

Scaramouche thrust his fingers in and out of your drenched cunt, a cruel smirk tugging on his lips while he watched you writhe and buck your hips up into his fingers. "That's it, babble, moan and beg for me to fuck you like the whore you are," He pinched your throbbing clit before he spread your legs apart.

He could ever get enough of how tight your walls clenched around his cock when he degraded you. Scaramouche groaned as he sank his cock into your cunt. "The deeper my cock gets in your whore cunt, the tigher you get," His hips harshly snapped into yours as he bottomed out. "What a filthy slut."

The more you whimpered and cried for him to let you cum, the harsher his pace became. A buldge poked up in your stomach, making Scaramouche press his hand down on it.

That was what broke the knot of your orgasm apart. Your body fell limp with pleasure a moment, stunned by the intensity of your orgasm, your release flooding onto his cock. He laughed at you, taunting you while he fucked his cum inside of you. "Take all of my cum, then serve as Kunikuzushi's cock sleeve next. We know you like being used, slut."

Kunikuzushi was whimpering, rutting into his hand while he watched Scaramouche ruin you. The second Scaramouche rolled off of you, Kunikuzushi grabbed you by the ankle, pulling you towards him.

"Finally, finally," He said, grinning down at you as he crawled on top of you. He soothed his tongue against the inflamed skin from Scaramouche's bite marks. "My brother is fair too rough with you. You need to be handled delicately."

Kunikuzushi nuzzles his face into your neck, his handling of you was drastically different. His nips and bites were gentle and loving on your skin, whimpering in pleasure as he hastily pushed his cock inside of you.

Your body quivered from overstimulation brought on from Scaramouche's passionately agressive fucking. "You feel so good," Kunikuzushi cooed in your ear, gently kissing his cock against your sweet spot, "and you sound like an angel."

Your cheeks flushed from his praise, wrapping your arms around him to hold him close to you. Your walls felt gummy and tight around his cock, sending Kunikuzushi reeling, his cock throbbing from how good it felt.

His hands caressed up your body down to your hips, rocking them into his. "You look so pretty," a blush coated his cheeks, drinking in the way drool pooled from the corner of your mouth, your body twitching underneath him.

He was holding himself back from cumming. He wanted you to cum first, your breathless cries of pleasure when you cummed on his cock were ones he always relished in. Kunikuzushi lived for making you cry the same way Scaramouche did, but it was from gentle, mind-blowing pleasure as he brought you cream on his cock.

Only then would he let himself orgasm, fucking his cum inside of you while you cling to him.

[yinyuedijun]

since it is on the brain tonight. have one of my favourite (very very long) scenes of desire path backstory (happened in both versions of the fic, og and current)

(tw implied child abuse and incest)

background: you've just been adopted into the itoshi household and have had a really hard time opening up. sae hears you crying in your bedroom every night. here, he finally decides to try and help you. you're about 6 here, sae is 8.

___

Still, you had your bad nights. Progress has never been linear with you, not now and not back then. Sae recalls one midnight where you had a crying fit that disintegrated into a violent string of coughs, each one so powerful that it made him wince.

He wondered how the whole house wasn't awake, listening to your pain. Rin always slept like a rock—Sae could see him snoring away in the other bed, so it made sense that he wasn't bothered—but surely their parents were hearing this? But then he decided not to linger on it for too long.

It didn't matter since he was going to help you anyway.

He ended up knocking on your door with a glass of water. Almost immediately, all the shifting in your room stopped, almost like you were trying to silence yourself. But Sae could hear the coughs being torn violently from your throat, even though they now sounded strained and muffled.

"Hey," he called out softly. "It's me. Are you awake?"

Silence. Sae knew to give it a moment before he tried again.

"Can I come in?"

If it had been anyone other than you, you told Sae years later, your fingers running lazily through his hair, lifting the bangs out of his face, I wouldn't have said anything. I'd have pretended to be sleeping. But I let you in because it was you. You squeezed his hand, then, and your eyes were close—so close, heavy on his own and weighed down by the vulpine flick of your eyeliner, by the mascara sooty and thick on neatly curled lashes, by your childhood shadows. Your strawberry gloss shone next to his lips, and your heated and tender words kissed them: Do you understand what I'm saying, Nii-chan? If it had been anyone else, I wouldn't have been—

"...okay."

When Sae crept into your room, found an empty bed. You were hiding underneath it, curled up in the tiny space between the floor and the mattress, hugging the quilt he'd handed to you weeks ago. He crouched down, showed you the glass of water. Sae wasn't sure if the offering would be enough to draw you out from under the bed, but another coughing fit—this one strong enough to make you teary-eyed—had you crawling out. You mumbled a little thank you as you took the glass from him and drank.

"You haven't cried like that in a while," Sae commented, and you gave him a stricken look. After a long moment of unadultered panic in your eyes, he heard you string more than two words for the first time:

"...s-sorry. I'm really sorry." You were looking down at the floor, and it was like all the progress Sae had made over the past several weeks had gone up in smoke—you looked petrified, small, a cornered animal with nowhere to run. "I didn't know you could hear me."

"Don't apologize. I don't mind it."

"...you're not mad?"

Sae thought it was a funny question. "No. Who'd get mad at something like that?"

You didn't reply, just looking away, and Sae felt a little frustrated, then. He'd been working so hard to make you feel comfortable and thought he'd finally made some progress—but now he was seeing you regress in real time. Back into the fragile little thing that his parents had decided to adopt out of the blue, looking like you couldn't trust anything around you. Like you couldn't trust him. Sae couldn't help but think—

"You don't like it here, do you."

Even at that age, you had a distinctly doe-eyed look when you were confused, and he remembers staring at it.

"No," you said. "I do."

"Then how come you don't wanna talk to any of us?"

Maybe his voice was a little too harsh. Or a little too blunt. You flinched, your body retreating into the turquoise shell of your quilt.

"Sorry."

"That's—" Sae paused, chewing his lip. Tried to make his voice as gentle as possible, because he knew his usual tone would scare you. "...you don't need to be sorry. I'm not mad. I just wanna know what's been making you so upset. Like—how come you always cry at night?"

You got that nervous, uncertain look in your eye again, and Sae got the distinct feeling that you were wondering if this whole conversation was some kind of trick. He added, "I just wanna know how to cheer you up. I don't like seeing you so sad all the time."

You blinked, gave him a surprised look, but it was fleeting, quickly making way for another gloomy expression. "You don't need to worry about me… I don't think I'm going to stay here for very long."

Sae's brow furrowed. His mom had made it sound like you were going to be his little sister just like how Rin was his brother—that is, permanently. "Why not?"

The face you made was so miserable that it startled Sae. He hadn't had a lot of experience with sadness as a kid—most of what he'd witnessed revolved around soccer, when the opposing team lost, and Sae never felt very sorry for them. Sometimes Rin would throw tantrums or cry over silly things, but those were easy to handle. Sae supposed that the worst sadness he'd ever seen was in his mother, who tried her best to hide it—

—but not even her saddest expressions could compare to how shattered you looked in that moment.

"...your dad doesn't actually want me here, Sae-san."

Sae's brow creased. You have a new sister, he recalled. You need to take care of her, OK? It's your job as the eldest.

"That can't be right," Sae replied. "Dad said he wanted you to be part of this family. He even said I should look after you."

Instead of responding, you looked long and hard at Sae, and for the first time, he experienced the strange feeling of being dissected by you. He felt translucent and naked under your eyes—keen for such an innocent age, seeing everything in the dark.

"We have the same father, but different moms. You know that, right?" you asked quietly.

He hadn't.

"Your dad didn't like my mom very much, and that's why he didn't want me. He's only being forced to take me now 'cause my mom decided she didn't want me either." Your eyes started to shimmer, and you hid them in your blanket. "My stepdad and my brother also left 'cause they didn't want me. And I don't think your mom likes me very much, either. So"—you breathed in deep and whispered, and Sae felt like he was watching a vase tip over the edge, a sandcastle crumbling into dirt, his mother crying as she fumbled for her cigarettes when she thought no one was watching—"it's not gonna be very long 'til your parents throw me away too."

Sae went silent. If his heart ached for you when he first laid eyes on you, then it was being crushed right now. He didn't think very hard about it when he placed a hand over one of yours.

"They wouldn't do something like that," he said.

Your fingers twitched under his, like you wanted to pull away.

"They want to. I can tell."

You're just imagining things, Sae nearly replied, but then he remembered that he'd never once heard his parents come here at night to check on your crying, and then he went quiet.

"...it doesn't matter," he eventually decided. "I won't let them."

A little sniff. "No?"

"No. I'll make sure you stay with us."

You blinked the saltwater away from your lashes, then gave him a curious look. "Why?"

"Because I'm your brother, and it's my job to take care of you."

"Really?" you asked, voice watery.

His eyes softened, his usual impassivity crumbling for you.

"Really. I would never let anyone throw you away," he said, and the words felt so ugly in his mouth that he couldn't fathom how anyone had done that to you. How anyone could have done anything to you. You were so sweet, and so kind, and so vulnerable, and it left him feeling sick when he imagined you being hurt in any way. "I'll keep you safe. Promise."

Sae nearly jumped when he felt something move in his hand. He looked down, saw your little fingers prodding at his own, and he offered you his open palm. You took it readily, Sae found himself transfixed by the latticework of your entwined fingers.

"Thank you, Sae-san."

"It's nothing," he wrote off. His thumb rubbed the back of your hand, gentle in a way that his voice wasn't. "But I'm your brother now, remember? You should address me properly."

You smiled a little, studying your interlocked fingers, and Sae felt a peculiar warmth in his chest, an uptick in his pulse.

"Okay, Nii-chan."

Nii-chan. Sae's always loved hearing that title in your mouth. Not out of a demand for respect the way Rin obsesses over it, but because you've always seemed so happy to say it, the syllables sweetened by your adoring tongue. Okay, Nii-chan, you've always said. I'll listen to you, Nii-chan. I trust you, Nii-chan. I love you, Nii-chan. I love you, I love you, I love you.

So please don't leave us again.

Please don't throw me away.

[acknowledge-reigns]

Slumber Party | Naomi x Black!fem OC (SMUT) 18+!!!

Kinktober Day #6: Ass Worship

"I'm the Nelly in the party with some rocks for ears (so hot in here)

I'm a slave for you, baby, Ms. Britney Spears.

I'm a Clover, she a Toros, bring it on for cheers.

And I'm sexy like Christina when I dip it low

Not an H-town girl, but I rodeo

Yippee-ki-yay, welcome to the show

It's an all-girl party, clothing optional..." 🎶

Description: Naomi and Kira have a spicy girls night

Warnings: Pet names, Mommy kink, ass worship, rimming, praise, degradation, teasing, cunnilingus, mention of Daddy Kink (in reference to Jimmy Uso).

Face claim: Coco Jones

MDNI!! 18+ BELOW THE CUT

My masterlist can be found here and my kinktober schedule can be found here.

As always my fics are about Naomi, NOT Trinity Fatu

In this universe Jimmy, Naomi and Kira are in a Dom (Jimmy)/switch (Naomi)/sub (Kira) poly relationship. You find other stories featuring those three on my masterlist.

tag list - @mysticreigns2 @queeny23 @jeyusos-girl @notfancyrebelpaper @xbriexx @skyesthebomb @mzv11 @paigereeder @glitterywitchstarlight @v4mp-reads @hunnidmilly

Jimmy had left for the night for some bloodline related obligations, leaving Kira and Naomi alone in the house. The two had decided to have a sexy slumber party, They were both dressed up in cute lil cheer outfits with nothing underneath. Though it didn't take long for their clothing to be entirely abandoned.

Naomi couldn't help but admire Kira's outfit, her eyes roaming over her body. "You look delicious, princess," she purred, running a finger down Kira's arm. "I can't wait to get started on our lil girls night"

Kira smiled coyly, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "I'm ready for anything, Mommy," she said, her voice low and sultry. "What did you have in mind?"

Naomi chuckled, a sly grin spreading across her face. "Oh, you tryna have THAT kinda slumber party." She teased as if she didn't know that was the plan all along. "I want you to worship my ass," she said, her tone firm but playful.

Kira had jokingly expressed plenty of times how she's jealous everytime Naomi has a match and some lucky bitch ends up with a face full of ass.

Kira nodded eagerly, her eyes fixed on Naomi's backside. "Yes, Mommy," she replied, crawling over to Naomi and placing a gentle kiss on her ass cheek.

Kira continued to lavish attention on Naomi's ass, her tongue tracing the curve of her cheeks. She massaged and squeezed the supple flesh, worshiping it with every touch, thrilled to feel the glow.

Naomi let out a moan of pleasure,

"Oh, baby girl, you're so good at this," she gasped, her breath coming in short pants. "Don't stop. Keep worshiping me."

Kira obeyed, her tongue slowly tracing the puckered little hole. She licked and sucked, her tongue probing deeper with each pass. Naomi moaned louder, her body quivering with pleasure as Kira's face is buried in her ass. "That's it, princess," she panted. "Eat my ass like a good little slut."

Kira continued to devour Naomi's ass, her tongue swirling and thrusting in and out. She reached around to rub Naomi's clit, wanting to bring her even more pleasure.

Naomi gasped, her body trembling with ecstasy. "Oh gods, yes," she moaned, her hips rocking back and forth. "Keep rubbing my clit, princess. I'm so close. Make mommy cum and I might eat your pretty lil pussy."

Kira doubled her efforts, her tongue working furiously while her fingers circled Naomi's clit. Naomi's moans grew louder and more desperate, her body tensing as she neared the edge. "That's it, princess," she panted. "I'm gonna cum, baby.."

With a final cry, Naomi came hard, her body shuddering with pleasure. Kira eagerly lapped up her juices, savoring the taste. Naomi collapsed onto the sofa panting heavily. "Good girl," she said, looking back at Kira with a satisfied smile. "You did such a good job, princess. Now it's your turn."

Naomi pulled Kira over to the couch, her hands firm but gentle. "Lay back, princess," she said, her voice soft but commanding. "Spread your legs for mommy." Kira obeyed, her heart racing with anticipation. She spread her legs wide, revealing her wet and waiting pussy.

Naomi knelt down between Kira's legs, her eyes fixed on the prize. "You're so beautiful like this, princess," she murmured, running her hands up and down Kira's thighs. "I can't wait to taste you." She leaned in, her breath hot against Kira's skin.

Naomi began to kiss and nibble on Kira's inner thighs, working her way closer to her pussy. Kira whimpered with need, her body writhing beneath Naomi's touch. "Please," she begged. "Please touch me, mommy."

Naomi chuckled, her lips curving into a smirk. "Oh, you're so desperate, aren't you, princess?" she teased. "You want mommy to touch your needy little pussy so badly." She inched closer, her tongue flicking out to tease Kira's entrance.

Kira let out a whimper, her hips bucking upwards. "Yes, mommy, please," she pleaded. "I need your mouth on me. I need you to make me feel good." Naomi relented, finally giving Kira what she wanted. She pressed her mouth to Kira's pussy, her tongue delving deep inside.

Kira cried out in ecstasy, her body arching off the couch. Naomi's tongue moved expertly, licking and sucking at all the right spots. She used her fingers to tease Kira's clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body.

Naomi increased the pace, her tongue and fingers working in tandem to bring Kira closer and closer to the edge. "You taste so good, princess," she murmured, her voice muffled against Kira's pussy. "I could eat you all day long."

Kira was lost in a haze of pleasure, her moans and gasps growing louder with each passing moment. "I'm gonna cum," she gasped.

Naomi redoubled her efforts, her tongue and fingers working furiously to bring Kira to climax. "That's it, princess," she urged. "Cum for mommy. Let go."

With a cry of ecstasy, Kira finally reached her peak. Her body tensed, her back arching off the couch as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Naomi continued to lap at her pussy, helping her ride out the orgasm until she collapsed back onto the couch, spent and satisfied.

Naomi crawled up the couch, settling herself beside Kira. She gently stroked her hair, a satisfied smile on her face. "That was amazing, princess," she said. "You did so well for mommy."

Kira snuggled into Naomi's embrace, still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice soft and dreamy. "That was incredible."

"Daddy's gonna hate that he missed this." Kira giggled.

"Guess we'll have to make it up to him." Naomi laughed.

Naomi held Kira close, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. Now THAT is how you do a slumber party.

[thewhumpcaretaker]

ok ok ok your sub! john drabbles actually gave me the best idea. tattoo artist x john wick

tattoo artist reader is there to comfort him and make sure he’s okay and doesn’t pass out esp if it’s his first tattoo.

also writing this made me remember a fic i read that’s not finished but breaks my heart

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21060659/chapters/50100092 if you want to read 🖤

Thank you so much for this ask!! I've been thinking about this idea for a while actually. There was another ask about this a long time ago, maybe on my JohnWickCaretaker blog? I can't find that one, but if that was also you, then thanks a second time. Also, yaaaaay, fic recommendation! 🖤

John Wick x Tattoo Artist Reader (Gender Neutral)

Author's Note: John is a little younger in this one (I’m picturing him being 18-19), so he’s not as mature. He’s even more shy and gets defensive more easily. Also, I'm not a tattoo artist, and haven't gotten any tattoos, so this is just based on what I've read about it!

CW: forced to get a tattoo, tattoo needle, crying, reader swears frequently, bittersweet ending

Image sources: 1 2 3

“You have time for a walk-in?”

You didn’t even hear this guy open the door. Once you’re done being startled, you notice…him. You’re not supposed to let yourself think this way about clients, but shit, he’s cute. He looks soft. Mostly clean shaven, with a thin, elegant face (maybe it’s the high cheekbones), topped off with a mop of dark hair. And probably inexperienced, based on how nervous he looks. A little part of you wonders how this is going to go for him. “You’re in luck. What’s your name?”

No answer.

��Can I see an ID?”

He hesitates awkwardly. “I’m coming from Mrs. Petrov.”

Oh. So he’s one of these. You doubt that’s her real name, but Mrs. Petrov sailed into your shop one day offering to double the usual price if you’d keep quiet and ask no questions, and you sure need the money. Your skin is crawling a bit but you take a deep breath and get into it.

“Okay, good enough for me. What design are we looking at?”

He hands you a paper. It’s the same one you’ve seen half a dozen times: hands touching in prayer over an image of the cross. Guys come to you for this tat again and again, “from Mrs. Petrov.” One told you it was a mark of his acting troupe, another said it was a family crest, another a symbol of his church. They’re probably all lying, but you know better than to call them on it – or to turn any of them away. You’re pretty sure it’s a mob thing. It breaks your heart a little bit to think he’s caught up in all that. He doesn’t look the part. But then, you also know better than to judge by looks alone.

You gesture to the chair. “Settle in, face down. It’s better if we have your shirt off.” He’s way too delicious underneath it. The perfect canvas...shhhhh stop it. You’re a professional and he’s…god knows what. “This will take about four or five hours. Is that okay?”

He nods.

“Silent type I guess?”

That gets a faint smile before he lays across the bench, chin resting on folded arms. You flip the Open sign to Closed, pull on your gloves, and start prepping tools. You turn on the radio to 80s rock, filling the silence between you - though it doesn’t feel like a stressful silence, surprisingly. Both of you know how odd this situation is and you’re both just trying to get through it. There’s a camaraderie to that.

You glance down at the design in your hand and whistle. It’s pretty big, taking up most of the center of his back, between the scapulas. “Is this your first tattoo?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, well I’ll be real with you: this is going right over the spine, so you can expect some pain. Nothing that’ll kill you, just…not super pleasant. So I’ll check in from time to time, see how you’re doing. If you need a break, we can take one.”

“I won’t.” He sounds pretty sure of that. Standing behind him, you shake your head. It’s always the ones that are so sure…

“Well, after a while, I’ll need one.” You run disinfecting wipes over the center of his back and set to work. When the needle touches down for the first time, he winces once, but he doesn’t wince again for the next ten minutes of linework. It takes you that long to realize that he’s barely breathing. “Your muscles are tense, buddy. I need you to relax for me or this will hurt more.”

“…I just…don’t want to move.” There’s something so sweet about the way he says it.

“You won’t move. You’re actually less likely to shake if you can let yourself go totally limp, like you would if you were about to fall asleep. Here, sit up for a second, take a deep breath, and stretch out.” He listens, but he’s not looking at you. You’re pretty sure he’s blushing.

“Okay. I’m relaxed.” Liar. You can still feel the knots in his muscles when you touch him again. But at least it’s a little better than before, and he’s getting impatient. “Keep going.”

Well, the customer is always right. “Alright, let’s do it.” You grab your pen and get back into place. The best you can do is try to distract him. “How did you choose this tattoo anyway?” Might as well see what story this one will make up.

“I didn’t.” That’s probably the truest answer you’ve heard so far.

“Do you…like it?” God, you hope so.

“Not really.”

“…You’re telling me I’m putting something on your body right now that you don’t want there?”

“No,” he says, a little too quickly. “Forget it.”

That’s probably for the best anyway. You’ll get too pissed off if you keep going down this line of questioning. You take a deep breath and try for something lighter. “So what do you, uh…do for fun?”

“Reading, mostly.”

“Oh, sweet. You read anything good lately?”

“Kind of. I’m reading Anna Kerenina.” He slips into a faint accent when he says it, and you have a suspicion.

“What translation?”

“Just the Russian.” He sounds a little annoyed, like you caught him out on something. You suppose you did, and it was kind of fun.

“Bilingual. That’s badass.”

“Thanks.” There’s silence again for a minute, but it feels friendlier.

“So what do you think of it?”

“It’s...fine.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Yeah, it’s kind of dry.”

“I guess, but I don’t mind that. I just don’t like Anna and Vronsky. Which is Tolstoy’s whole point, but…”

“They’re both little shits to everyone. Makes it hard to get invested.”

“Right, exactly.” He shifts his chin. “If I was married, I can’t imagine cheating.” From some people, a line like that would sound like a transparent attempt to come across as a “nice guy.” But he says it so wistfully, you know he means it.

Don’t say what you’re about to say. Don’t say it. Be professional.

…Fuck it, you’re doing this under the table anyway. “Are you dating anybody?”

“No.” It sounds so bitter that, for a second, you think you really are dealing with a nice-guy-impersonator. But then he clarifies. “My…lifestyle doesn’t allow for that.”

“Oh.” You can’t think of any way to reply that doesn’t involve the burning questions in your mind about what exactly this “lifestyle” entails. So you lapse into silence again, for much longer this time, just thinking, wondering what it’s like to be one of these young men with the cross tattoos. Are they all friends with each other? What exactly do they do? Is it difficult? How does it pay? How did they get into it?

You stop when you’re done with the linework. “Okay, that went great! We’re totally done with the outlines, which is half the battle. I’m going to take a break before we start on the shading.” You circle around in front of him to grab your water bottle, and catch a glimpse of his face as he’s straightening up.

He’s wiping off silent tears.

Your heart almost drops out of your chest. “Oh shit. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, but it sounds hoarse and shaky. “Just hurt more than I expected.” He huffs a laugh, trying to play the whole thing off as unimportant.

“Dude, I told you we can take breaks if you need. If you’re crying from pain, you’re too tensed up. Tell me next time, alright?” Before you realize what you’re doing, you’re rubbing his shoulder. He freezes for a second, and you pull back. “Sorry, I – I didn’t mean to – “

“No, it’s okay. I’m just not used to that.”

“Damn, how do they treat you at Mrs. Petrov’s place?” You’re half joking, but you want to know more and more by the second. And when he just looks grave and doesn’t answer, your heart does that weird dropping thing again.

“…Let me get you a water, okay? I’ll be right back.” You’re grateful for the short walk to the mini fridge you keep in the back of the parlor. It feels so heavy in that room. You’re starting to wish you hadn’t taken the deal, because whatever this is, you don’t want to be involved.

When you come back, he’s perfectly composed again, but looking at you more carefully this time, like he’s finally really seeing you. After he takes a drink of water, he hesitates for a second. “My name is Jardani.”

Warmly, “Nice to meet you.” You take the bottle back and set it on the table, within reach. “You’ll tell me if you get overwhelmed next time?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I’m trusting you.”

You watch him settle in and get back to work. It’s okay at first but there’s a dark shadow under those praying hands that needs to go right over his spine. It’s basically pure black. A couple minutes into it, he exhales sharply, like he’d been holding his breath for a while. “Stop.”

You set your pen down right away. “You got it.” You pull up a chair next to him and he turns to look at you, without sitting up. He’s really pale. “How are you feeling?”

“Lightheaded.”

“Yeah, you can pass out if you get tense like that for too long. But you’re okay. We can take as long as you need.” You put your hand on his shoulder again, massaging it, and this time, he lets you. You can feel some of the tension finally seep away and the color returns to his cheeks. The dark pools of his eyes are fixed on yours, and if you aren’t careful, you feel like you could fall into them and drown. There’s something trapped in cold waters down there, pleading for rescue.

Yeah, sure. If you were being unprofessional before, now you’re being a downright sentimental fool. This guy has probably shot people.

Despite being deep and rumbling, his voice sounds so quiet that it’s almost shy. “You don’t know what this means to me, to have a…nice moment... Thank you.”

“Oh – you’re welcome. It’s nothing, really.” You’re absolutely done for. “Um, do you want to stand up and stretch before we get back at it?”

“Mm-hm.”

Your brain is fried but you manage to hold it together while the both of you get back into position. The rest of the session goes pretty smoothly, and you talk a little more here and there. At first it’s just about how he should take care of this thing when it’s finished – staying out of the sun and all that. But then he starts to ask you about yourself - what you read, how you got into tattooing, your favorite designs. Everything you say seems to interest him. You can’t quite believe it but he’s obviously developing a crush on you. Or at least getting attached in some way. You can’t blame him, if the smallest friendly touch is such a foreign concept.

It's too soon when you place the finishing touches. “Okay! You want to take a look?” You help him up, his hand resting in yours for an instant as he slides off the bench, stiff and probably aching. It sends a jolt straight to your heart, to support some fraction of his weight and to feel the way his fingers squeeze down on yours before letting go. You mourn the contact instantly, and distract yourself by adjusting the two mirrors that reflect into each other, allowing him to see his back. “What do you think?”

“It does look cool actually.” He cracks a little heart-melting smile, and you’re really relieved. He may not have wanted it, but at least he’s not devastated.

“’Course it does, it was done by the best in the business,” you joke. Though to be honest, you really are impressed with your handiwork. Doing the same tattoo so many times pays off – each one has looked more polished than the last. It’s almost a shame to see him put his shirt back on…for multiple reasons.

“Oh, uh…” He fishes something out of his pocket. A wad of hard cash – a LOT of it, as usual. “Here’s the payment.” And then he’s leaving, before you can do anything, say anything, even catch the breath you’d lost trying to comprehend everything that just happened.

“Hey, wait!” You don’t really know what you’re going to say, but then he’s facing you again and you have to say something, and it just comes out. “…Do you need help? I don’t know what’s going on, but look, I’m not an idiot. I know something’s wrong here. I don’t know who Mrs. Petrov really is and I don’t care, but if you need me to do something, like…I don’t know, call a social worker or something or help you get transport out of the city...” Your voice falters. You have no idea what he’d need and even less idea how to provide it without getting both of you killed. And what if you’ve misread the whole situation? What if you’re completely out of line?

It certainly looks that way. It’s like a switch flips in him. “No. Whatever you do, don’t fucking try anything. It’s none of your business.” It’s the coldest he’s sounded. “You won’t see me again.” The door slams behind him.

You brace a hand against the counter behind you, shaking. How could you be so stupid, honestly. This emotional roller coaster isn’t worth it. You wish you’d never seen Mrs. Petrov, let alone this Jardani with his damn pain-soaked eyes and cornered-dog behavior. There’s something awful going on, and you can’t do anything about it, you’re just making it worse. If you can get out of this deal, you have to, even if it means getting out of the city. Maybe out west - San Francisco sounds nice this time of year.

You’re just putting yourself back together and trying to decide what the hell you’re gonna do when the door flings open again and he storms back though it, stopping short right in front of you. For a second, you just stare at each other, breathing hard. Then he catches the flash of foolish happiness in your eyes at seeing him again and musters his nerves.

And he. Fucking. Kisses. You. Forcefully, with his strong hands gripping your arms and his teeth colliding with yours, pulling, desperate, rebellious, like he’s trying to tell you something he’s not allowed to say. You’re pretty sure it’s, “Thank you. For being one of the few people who cared.”

And then he’s gone again, and this time, you can feel it: he’s never coming back.

[sugarbunnii]

daddy’s girl p.4

“Your mom leaves me high and dry most of the time” Wilbur says softly petting your hair, “I wish she wouldn’t but most of the time it’s a not tonight and maybe tomorrow” 

You look up at him, confused as to what he’s talking about, “she doesn’t have sex with you?” You ask softly, almost shamed, Wilbur nods.

“Yeah and I just don’t think, a relationship like this can really continue on, but I love your mother in every aspect except for that. I love how hard working she is and how much she’s sacrificed for you and me” he adds, “she’s given up her time at home with me and you so I can stay home and you focus on your studies, but I just don’t like how tired and exhausted she is all the time, how I work hard keeping the house clean, taking care of you and dealing with you” 

You nod in acknowledgment.

“Basically I keep the home fire going but your mother isn’t suppling the-” 

“wood” you manage to mutter, Wilbur feels the smile appearing on his face, he nods.

“Exactly babygirl” he says smiling, “if you can do that, I’ll let you get away with this if you keep it a secret and your mom doesn’t find out about your little habit”, he lifts your head to look at him and wipes your tears away gently.

“Look, I’m not going to make you, you can say no”

You realize you don’t have much of a choice now. Either your mom ships you off and you’ll never see your friends again or a few minutes of your life.

You swallow your pride and nod, wiping away your tears, “I’ll do it”

“Look, you don’t have to”

“I’ll do it Wilbur! Don’t make me say it again” you cry softly before he hugs you, rubbing your back gently.

“Are you sure?” He asks as you nod, “okay, we’ll do it when you’re feeling better” 

The following day, you wait anxiously, Wilbur not acting any different than ever. He doesn’t ask much of you, just the usual stuff, ‘how’d you like your eggs?’ ‘Juice or coffee’ ‘have you been drinking water?’ Etc. it all makes everything feel so bitter in your mouth later on in the night when you crawl into his bed. 

You’re in a nightgown, not bothering to wear much besides panties underneath, knowing he’s going to take them off anyways.

Wilbur gently rubs your back through the nightgown, “you sure about this princess? You can turn back any moment now” he says softly

“I’m sure” you mutter laying on top of him.

“Alright” he says as you sit up, you softly pull out his throbbing cock from his boxers, watching it spring to life in your hands. You give it a few experimental strokes as he softly groans, “careful honey” he says stroking your hair gently.

“Sorry daddy, it’s my first time” you say softly, leaning down and giving his tip a few kitten licks before taking it into your mouth. You try not to make a mess but your drool ends up all over his cock as he’s groaning underneath you, you pull away from it with a pop.

“Is it ready?” You ask, he nods in response. You move around to pull off your panties, the ones you expected him to take off with no concern. You get on top of Wilbur, slowly aligning his cock with your entrance as he holds your hips.

“Careful now” he mutters “wouldn’t want to hurt you”

You start to sink down gently, Wilbur holding your hips as you let out a silent gasp. You’re trying to hold back your sounds of pain until you’ve fully taken him, letting out a soft cry while his cock is stretching out your tight walls.

“Oh, good girl” he says rubbing your hips “just stay there for a second sweetheart, get used to the size”

“Yes daddy” you whine, feeling the pain before he starts to move you, slowly melting into sinful pleasure. You moan softly, your own body betrays you, starting to rock your hips faster and faster as you feel the pleasure. Your moans and whines get louder and louder alongside Wilbur’s groans. 

Your bodies are rocking the bed into the headboard, taking in the moment that you both had given them and returning only pleasure, terrible sinful amazing pleasure. 

His fat tip manages to hit the spot that will have you seeing stars, only egging on your orgasm. You moan louder, moving your hips faster and before the both of you know it, you have reached euphoria.

You cum around Wilbur’s cock as he starts to bounce you up and down faster before his cum is released inside of you. You collapse on top of him, shaky with your post orgasmic bliss. He strokes your hair softly, gently whispering shaky words of praise. 

“There we go, there we go sweet girl” he says softly, “you did so good for your daddy” 

You nod in agreement, slowly dozing off.

The next morning it’s like nothing happened, like everything was normal, it would make you sick to your stomach if it wasn’t for something else, your mother’s return from her trip. 

She comes back drunk and all smiles, hugging you and Wilbur constantly, talking about how well her trip went and how amazing it all was. Nothing could bring her down from this and at some point she asks about you, “so how was she behaving?” She asks Wilbur excitedly.

“Oh she was a good girl” 

You feel the pit forming in your stomach.

“Really? Well this calls for a celebration!” She laughs “sex all night Wilbur!” She cheers.

“Not tonight honey, maybe tomorrow”

You feel like throwing up, it wasn’t your mother, it was 

“Wilbur!” She chirps “you always say that!” your mother giggles “I’m supposed to keep the money going and you don’t even give me any wood!”

They both laugh softly as you watch them, “n/n, sweetheart, come have a drink with us” she offers

“Oh, no thank you” you say softly, making her laugh 

“That girl is so uptight! You’re young, live a little, it’s not like I’m gonna ship you off to some sort of boarding school!” 

You realize what he has done

“I’m just gonna go to bed” you say starting to head up stairs 

“Without kissing me goodnight?” Your mom asks jokingly

You want to bury yourself in a hole and die, but manage to drag your feet over to them. “Night mom” you mutter, kissing your mom goodnight on the cheek. You go over to Wilbur “goodnight daddy” you mutter going to kiss him on the cheek but he turns causing you to kiss his lips with a soft smack causing you to turn red as your mom bursts out laughing and you walk quickly to the stairs.

Her laughter can be heard through the house, cracking up at the memory, telling Wilbur “it’s fine, she’s always been a daddy’s girl”