#Tips for Driving in the Snow

[lupismaris]

Wore my cowboy boots out to smoke and they left the gayest foot prints in the snow fuckin drag meeee ✨

[catboypheromones]

my boss pissed me off immensely yesterday so i told him to eat shit and i quit my job so im officially UNEMPLOYEDDDDD WAHOO im gonna be a lazy piece of shit for a week or two or maybe til the end of the month and then go get another stupid fucking soul crushing serving job

[snapbackslide]

if anyone got tips pls share with the group 🫶🫶🫶🫶

[vulpesintuos]

[inc-immigrationnewscanada]

Snow Day Ontario: Sault Ste. Marie and Areas Brace for Blizzard

Snow Day Ontario: The Sault Ste. Marie region, including areas like Blind River, Elliot Lake, and Wawa, are gearing up for a severe weather event that promises to disrupt normal life with heavy snow, blizzard conditions, and dangerously low visibility. This article delves into the specifics of the weather advisory and blizzard warning, offering safety tips, travel advice, and an in-depth look at…

[ozarkthedog]

WARNINGS: 18+ mdni. riding Joel on the couch. slight size difference kink. -> no plot, only fucking that old man <- W.C: 468 AUTHOR'S NOTE: enjoy this word vomit. i saw this pic and then went brain dead.

Jumping Joel's bones the second he's through the door after a day of patrolling.

Pushing the brick wall of a man back on the couch and dropping to your knees, unbuckling his belt in record time, and teasing his soft cock until he's leaking and throbbing hard over your tongue. His hips rise off the couch as he presses his girth further down your throat, making you sputter and gag. Joel runs his fingers over your scalp, cooing your sticky whimpers. He looks down at you, absolutely memorized by the satisfied tears in your eyes. "Needed him pretty bad, huh?"

You nod with his cock still lodged in your throat; the simple vibration of your muddle response is enough to make his eyes slam closed and cock leak over your tongue.

"Get up 'ere," He grits, helping you rise on weary legs and hastily tug your panties to the ground. He cradles your hips as you settle onto his lap, forming his larger body around yours; he taps his weeping crown against your dripping heat, teasing you like you teased him not long ago.

"Think you can take him? Take e'ery inch?" he rasps, his still throat hoarse from a day out in the cold.

Your hands clutch his broad shoulders, his weather-worn jacket smelling of birch and snow bunches in your grip as he ever so slowly eases you down his cock.

His massive palms curve around your hips and lewdly palm your ass until your clit touches the grey-brown curls that litter the base of his cock.

"There ya go. Spreadin' 'er all the way open for him," He flexes his length, sending a shock wave through your system, igniting all the nerves that drove you mad all day.

You bite back a curse on the first steady rise and fall on his cock. His salt and pepper facial hair bristles your skin as he pants against your cheek while you ride him. "I can feel your fuckin' heartbeat."

Your knees dig into the cushions, and frantic breaths burst from your lungs on each bounce as pleasure blossoms in your belly. Joel's expansive hands easily reach around your waist and guide you along every ridge and blood pumping vein, easing your distress and seeking out the ache only he knows how to quell.

He presses his forehead to yours and shares your breath, driving you closer and closer to becoming one. You drown happily in his coffee dark eyes as a wave of bliss races down you're spine.

"Lookit' you fallin' apart so quickly," a feral hand curls around the back of your neck and tips your head, making you look down at where you're connected. The base of his cock glistens with fresh white cream. "Comin' on my cock like you were made for it."

[newriverartist]

Not in that Direction...

Near Purgatory Original oil painting SOLD Wall Prints and Prints on other items available with the link https://kendall-kessler.pixels.com/featured/near-purgatory-kendall-kessler.html The other day Clyde and I were watching a detailed account of what people should do if they find themselves driving in bad weather. We were caught in a snow storm one time. It was awful. Anyway, as always, the…

[madamechrissy]

Morning after Christmas with Satoru

MDNI- Explicit sex, oral (f receiving) breed kink

There is nothing like waking up on the morning after Christmas with your husband Satoru, blinking sleep out of your eyes and yawning when you feel his big hand trailing down the curve of your waist, his plush lips against your ear. The snow is gently falling outside of your window, but you're nice and warm against his hard body.

"How long before the kids wake up?" He teases, your kids were thoroughly exhausted from Christmas and the long drive home last night from your vacation.

"Long enough, I hope." You tease he chuckles a bit, flipping you on your back then, you gasp out, when he's slipping up your tank top, thumbs pressing right under the swell of your breasts, looking up at you with those swirling blue storms.

"Long enough for how many?" He whispers, kissing down your tummy, slipping off your shorts, you gasp, hips arching, as he eyes your already slick cunt. "Haven't even touched you, so slutty."

"Please, Toru." You whisper, he smirks up at you, as your hand entangles in his silky white hair when his fingers brush your cunt, making your hips jerk, breaths coming in little pants.

"Patience, baby. So eager, so desperate." He's whispering as he kisses up your inner thigh, breath ghosting over your hot eager cunt, flicking his tongue up your slit then, you cover your mouth, muffling your moan. "Fuck you taste good."

You can't answer, not when he's got your thighs spread, when he's fucking your velvety walls with his long, talented tongue, and you're gushing all around the wet muscle, down Satoru Gojo's pretty face. His long fingers press into the plush of your thighs, as he drives you faster and faster, until you're shattering, screaming into your palm, shaking when he presses soothing kisses on your throbbing clit.

Satoru leans over you, kissing your lips after he takes your hand off your mouth, lining his thick length up with you, your eyes are dilated as you stare up at him, breathless. "That's one, think we can get two in?"

You nod with a soft giggle, when he sinks inside so deep, bottoming out and stuffing you so full, his own palm muffling your cries as he pumps, grinning maniacally then. "Want another baby?"

"T-Toru!" You're struggling to speak as he fucks into you, the sounds of skin smacking and wetness squelching in the room, you're full, too full, pressure building in your tummy. "S'expensive..." You mumble, he chuckles, lifting your thighs a little higher.

He leans close, whispering against your lips as his drooly tip slams your cervix. "I'm fucking rich." He rolls his hips, your own eyes roll back in your skull as he watches you. "So I'll ask again." All you can do is nod weakly, earning him putting you in a mating press now. "Good girl."

hcs of DILF Satoru

[dark-and-kawaii]

Candy Cane Kisses

Summary: You had one special request for Santa this year- a creamy, fat creampie xoxo~ ❄︎ ♡

The following stroke, just as brutal as the first, followed after a cruel ten second pause, “Oh, baby, ya like that, don't ya?" he growls, his voice deep as he thrust into your tight little cunt under the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree.

Your cute whines only encouraged him further, his fingers tangling in your hair as he drives the tip of his cock right up against that squishy sweet spot deep within you, the one that makes your thighs quiver and your belly tighten. The scent of pine and sex wafts thick in the air, mingling with the warm aroma of sugar cookies, hot cocoa and freshly roasted chestnuts.

It's almost as intoxicating as the way Gojo’s muscular body is flexing over yours, the sound of his breath hitching in his throat as he continues to pound the absolute fuck out of you, his large, veiny hand wrapping around your jaw, tilting your head back, “gonna fill ya up so nicely, babygirl. Make sure my pretty elf has a belly full of me.”

The feeling of being so utterly possessed by him, the sparkly red ribbon binding your wrists above your head, the sight of him gazing down at you like you're the only thing he's ever wanted for Christmas... It's all driving you closer and closer to the edge, making your heart thud faster and your breath grow shallower.

Each thrust made your toes curl and your back arch, “Ngh~ S-Satoru~!” you gasped… to which made him give you the sweetest and most tender smile, it was the best gift he could have asked for- hearing you cry his name as his cock stretched your pretty pussy out so deliciously.

You saw how his hand reached for one of the candy canes that hung from the tree, his teeth ripping the wrapper open before holding it above your face, “Stick out your tongue, pretty baby...”

Gojo watched as your mouth hung open like the good good girl you were, the sweet, sticky flavor coating your tongue as he pressed the thick end of the candy in between your lips, letting you suckle on it for a moment. Your cheeks grew rosy, your eyes hazy, your moans muffled as you tried your best to lap at the sweet treat.

“That’s my good little elf, keep sucking,” his voice rumbled, his icy blue eyes trained on the way your lips moved, your tongue licking along the striped cane as if it were a cock, “You look so mmn’pretty like this, doll, so fuckin' good.”

His hips snapped, pushing his cock right up against your cervix, his hands moving beneath you to grip at your ass, tilting your hips upwards, letting him sink even deeper into you. His eyes closed for a moment, his head tipping back, his snowy hair falling back, exposing his handsome jaw and the pretty veins that ran along his neck.

All you wanted for Christmas was a creampie from Gojo Satoru, but you had no idea just how much of it you were about to get.

As the ornaments clinked and the snow fell softly outside the window, you came with a whimpering moan, your inner walls fluttering and squeezing around him, milking his thick cock of every last drop of cum. He was more than happy to give you everything you wished for Christmas, his hot seed spilling inside of you, his hips twitching as he continued to rut into you, his nails biting gently at your skin, his hands gripping onto your ass.

It took a few minutes for him to finally finish, but when he did, he let out a sigh, his chest rising and falling as he slowly pulled out of you. You could feel his seed dribbling down your thighs, making a pretty white mess beneath you.

The candy cane had fallen out of your mouth, leaving behind a trail of sticky saliva on your cheek. He smiled, brushing a thumb across your bottom lip, “Let’s see if ya taste as good as ya look,” he murmurs, leaning forward and capturing your mouth in a sweet kiss.

The warmth and tenderness of his lips against yours made your heart swell with joy. He tasted of peppermint and chocolate. And now, he had made this holiday complete, giving you the perfect gift and making you the happiest little elf ever.

[hoshigray]

꯳⃘꤫⃛✿ contents: Gojo x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! gym friends - oral (f! + m! receving) - clitoral play (licking + sucking) - boobjob - prone bone position - unprotected sex - creampies - pet names (angel, baby, princess, sweetie) - gojo is a perv, ngl - pussywhipped + whiny! gojo - mention of sweat and drool/spit.

Been going to the gym lately and can’t stop thinking about gym friend! Gojo, who indisputably has a massive crush on you. 

Why else would he drag you in to do something that he loves to do? To share the same interests as his POI? To see you all the time? His reasons could be endless; however, those exact reasons seem to be doing more harm than good as his eyes can’t stop watching your body move on the elliptical, the sweat on your body shimmering on your gorgeous skin, or the positions you do as you stretch. All it does is add more fuel to the erotic thoughts that gnaw his heart out the more his azure orbs gawk at you. 

“Ahaahhn!! S-Satoru, don’t lick so fa—Mmm!—Fffuuuhuuck!!”

Or stir up more guilty fantasies for his perverted brain to think about.

On his life, Gojo wishes he’d snatch you off your feet and take you to the locker rooms to devour you utterly. If he has to look at your ass shielded under those leggings one more time, he will rip them off the seams and stuff his face into your panties. And he knows you’d make the cutest sounds as he does so, shrilling up above with hands grabbing tuffs of his silver snow hair while his teeth tug your panties to the side and latch your folds to his mouth. 

You looked way too good not to do so! He would have you hunched on the locker room bench, your knees to your chest, while his tongue ravishes your labia and eats you out. Jesus, your taste is intoxicating enough for his head to pound, spiraling the muscle to every cranny of the orifice to drink your fluids. “Holy fuck, so good…”

“‘Toruuu, waait!!” You plead with teary eyes, unsuccessful attempts to escape the tall man’s hold. “You’re going too fassst. Please…! Slow do—Oohoo!”

“No can do, baby~,” he’d lift his face and reveal his chin, just drenched with your essence mixed with his spit, before placing his tongue back to lap around your clitoris. “You said you’d cum for me three times, remember? Can’t just stop with one!”

“Bu-But…! I cannn’t, I’m too sweaty—“ you hasped aloud at the suck of your clit, Gojo letting his tongue run wild by licking and pressing on the pearl feverishly before sucking it in again. “—Tahaaa…!! Stop, stop! Let me shower firsst!!”

“C’mon, angel,” he kisses your vulva idly, enjoying the shudder of your thighs. “We can shower plenty together right after this, ‘kay? So, just keep cumming on my tongue for me, yeah?”

It doesn’t stop there. Because what’s hidden under your pants isn’t the only thing that drives him crazy — your cleavage peaking from your sports bras will always have him in a chokehold, the sweat shimmering across your attractive skin…All it needs is for his cock to be stuffed inside.

Oh fuck, it’s insane to even think about! Those lovely tits of yours giving his aching cock the time of its life has shivers crawling up his spine. That’s a sight that he’d store in his memory forever, watching his dick be swallowed up by the understrap of your bra and into the warmth of your chest. Fuck—he can’t think of anything better!

“Gosh, Satoru,” you’d look at him with a hooded gaze and smile while your hands press on your breasts to push together and trap his erection. The plush sensation makes Gojo’s hips buck, and you giggle. “What am I going to do with you? I can’t even work out in peace without you eyeing up my tits. Hmm, what do you have to say about that?”

“Hahhh…ahaaa, shit, I can’t—“ Gojo bites his lip at the display of your chest motioning up and down, his cock gliding in between your soft mounds making his eye twitch.

“Oh? Do you like watching my tits?” You inquire with a playful glint in your eyes, blowing on the pink tip to make the man moan. Precum trickles down your chest and joins the excess fluid that pools down to your bra and his sticky pelvis. “Does my pervert friend like my tits so much he wants to stuff his dick inside and make them dirty like him?”

“Fucking shit, yesss,” he throws his head back, his thighs trembling. “Yes, I love those cute tits like crazy.”

“Really?” You bat your eyes — holy hell, you were too much for him. “Would you like to cum on them again? Tell me, tell your gym partner how much you wanna stain these precious boobs you love so much.” You tease the cockhead with a flick of your tongue, nearly having Gojo bite on his. 

“Oh, my God, sweetie, please!” His blue eyes sparkle with a misty wanton, drunk on this sensation between his legs. “I can’t think right now…Lemme fuck your tits like crazy!”

You smirk with no words, sticking your tongue out to drizzle your warm saliva on his tip, the poor partner choking on the air before you suck his entire tip into your mouth. Greeting his sensitive glans with your tongue, your chest continues to squeeze and stroke his shaft to have him a whining mess. Shaky hands find your shoulders, but it doesn’t stop your rhythm that can easily have him melt to the floor. And if that doesn’t do it, then your tongue flicking and teasing his urethra sure will—shocks travel across his body as you suck harshly for his precum, and his head is too mushy to stop his peak from crumbling down.

He surprises you with a burst of his semen, screaming with a gleeful smile as his white substance protrudes out and paints your chin and your messy chest. You lift a bit to have him come into your bra, seeing his come create a damp and sticky spot as your nipple rubs on him. “You’re so bad, Satoru~,” you titter. “So naughty and dirty.”

That’s precisely what he feels: bad and dirty for thinking of you like this…and worse, he keeps going.

“Ohhh!! ’T-Toruuu, yer going so faast! Nooohh!!

If Gojo is likely to lose his mind at your chest, it’s entirely plausible that he’d go wild at the snug feeling of your vaginal walls clamping around his dick. Oh, he can just picture it: your legs locked between his as he pummels his cock into your bare cunt, your hands tied to your back with a headband, and your firm hands placed on your shoulders as he drills himself to churn your insides. 

Nothing can keep him at bay; his hips going buck-wild, slamming his pelvis down to your ass to make the flesh jiggle, moaning aloud at the sensation of you squeezing him whenever the tip grazes your sweet spots accurately, and thinking about nothing more than stuffing you full of his load. Fuck, you’d look so pretty, all fucked out and coated in his cum, filling it to the brim nonstop until his limb goes limp. Now that’s a workout he’ll get behind til the end of his days!

“Satoruuu!” You cry out his name, drooling escaping your pretty lips as you writhe. “It’s shoo muuuch, ‘oo muuuch!!”

His eyes roll to his skull from how much you are clenching around him, grinding his hips down to your ass to rub on your G-spot to the point of unintelligible babbles. Tighter, tighter! “Ahhhh, shiiit, baby, you feel so good,” he hiccups with abrupt ruts to your chasm. “So fucking…good!”

“Nnnmm, mmph!” Your eyes are sewn shut as the pleasure becomes overwhelming to bear, Gojo’s curved dick making it easier to scratch your vaginal walls to a euphoric itch. A poke to your cervix causes a sharp gasp and eyes to widen again. “—Gahaaa, wa-wait, Satoru, stop! If you keep—Mmmph!”

“Ahaah, there it is,” he draws his length outward before shoving it back inside to hit your womb once more. You yelp and tighten around him again. “Your little weak spot is right here, huh?” More gnashes to your ass cause frequent jabs to your womb, your lower half jerking to every single one.

“Ohhh fuuck, I’m gonna cummm…!!”

“Yeah, I can feel it,” Gojo licks his lips before kissing your nape. “But not yet, right? You said you’d help me with my endurance training, so hold on a little longer, okay, my princess?”

Before you could retort, his hips began to jackhammer into your cunt at an irregular pace, your screams only fueling him to pound you even more. “OhhhhGod, Satoru, go slooow…’Toru, please!!”

SNAP, SNAP!!

“Hey, Satoru, you okay? You’re daydreaming again.”

With the snap of your fingers, Gojo is brought back to reality, realizing he’s been adrift with his thoughts yet again as he sits aimlessly on the adjustable bench. “Ah, sorry, what were you saying?”

“I said, let’s get outta here; I’ll treat you to some burgers.” You beam before turning on your heel. “Now, hurry up; the place is closing soon!”

The white-haired man watches you go, eyes lingering on your finger and thanking the stars you hadn’t noticed the pink of his cheeks and ears flourishing. Nor the white towel that he held by his groin and quickly covering the tent protruding from his shorts.

…Fuck!

© HOSHIGRAY2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊹ dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[anglbunny]

SHE'S COLDER

♡. sae itoshi x snow leopard!reader, smut mdni, established relationship (kinda? not rlly?), based on this req

Men are annoying. But Sae Itoshi might be the exception… if he stops acting like one.

You’re spread out on the couch in his hotel suite, one leg dangling off the edge, scrolling your phone while dressed in the tiniest pair of shorts and one of his shirts — not because you like him, but because it smells good and your own laundry was annoying you.

Sae’s watching you from across the room, shirt unbuttoned, expression unreadable.

“You’re here,” he says dryly, “so you clearly want something.”

You don’t even glance up. “Mm. Air conditioning. Yours works.. mine wasn't.”

He scoffs. “So that’s it? You show up, take over my couch, and ignore me?”

You tilt your head lazily, finally sparing him a glance. “You’re a man. You should be used to being ignored.”

His jaw tightens. He’s quiet for a beat too long, eyes narrowing just enough to make you smirk. You like poking at him. He always acts like he doesn’t care. But you know better.

You go back to your phone.

That’s when it happens.

Your phone’s snatched from your hand, flung somewhere behind him. His hands are already on you — one gripping your chin, the other sliding under your thighs as he pulls you to the edge of the couch.

“You really think I won’t fuck that attitude right out of you?” he says, low and threatening.

You smile. “you couldn't fuck an orgasm out of me even if you tried.”

He curses under his breath. His mouth crashes into yours, all teeth and frustration. You kiss him back only to bite his lip — not hard enough to hurt, just enough to provoke.

“Fucking brat,” he growls.

You gasp when he lifts you suddenly, dragging you into his lap on the bed. His hands are on your ass, grinding you against the bulge in his sweatpants, and your resolve starts to crack just a little.

Just a little.

His fingers push beneath your waistband and slide into your panties like he’s done it a hundred times. They slip between your folds, finding you already wet, and he laughs under his breath.

“So much for bored,” he says, voice laced with triumph.

“Body’s just reacting,” you whisper. “Doesn’t mean you’re good at anything.”

That’s it.

He shoves your shorts and panties down your thighs, fingers curling inside you while his thumb rubs sharp circles on your clit. You jerk, breath catching. He’s fucking ruthless with it — two... three fingers, deep and unforgiving, the heel of his palm pressing against you as his pace quickens.

“You still bored, sweetheart?” he hisses into your ear.

You try to answer. Try to bite back something smart. But your head tilts back when he crooks his fingers just right, hitting that spot inside you that makes your vision spark.

“C’mon,” he murmurs, licking the shell of your ear. “Thought you hated me?”

Your nails dig into his shoulders.

He knows he’s winning. You’re leaking onto his hand, riding his fingers like you forgot who was supposed to be in control. Your breath is shaky now, moans spilling out in gasps, your hips moving without permission.

“You talk like you’re better than every guy who wants you,” Sae speaks low, dragging his mouth down your throat. “But you're grinding on my hand like a fucking slut.”

You moan at the filth. You hate that it turns you on. That he turns you on.

“Say it,” he orders. “Say I’m not like them.”

You pant against his shoulder, desperate, dizzy. “Y-You’re still a man.”

He pulls his fingers out and slaps your pussy, sharp and wet. You yelp.

Then he’s pushing you onto your back, dragging your legs apart. He pulls his sweats down, cock flushed and hard, tip already leaking.

“You wanna play that game?” he whispers darkly. “Fine.”

He pushes in without warning.

Your eyes roll back.

He’s thick, deeper than you expected, and the stretch makes you cry out — but you don’t stop him. You wrap your legs around his waist, nails clawing his back as he drives into you harder.

“Still annoying?” he pants.

“Yes! ahh- fuck, sae!” you gasp, “—but at least you’re finally doing something useful!”

His hand wraps around your throat, not tight, just enough to pin you there as he fucks you into the mattress.

“You’ll be begging by the time I’m done.”

And honestly?

You might.

TL: @samm1e13 @demiitria @syleepy @chaoslibra @bontenxo @pinkymangacaps @riinniies @samthesimp1 @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cookiesandcreammy @rinniebinniebay @ravenbc @kamelika @luvsymai @werfiedeii @mikemsmm @silverwings920 @cyberheartrebel @arwawawa2 @yanderebluelockfan @valexqpt @bigclownshoes @rinniewinnie787 @satorella @mitsurisupporter @meikstv @mihyas-dieehefrau @ravenbc @greekyoghurtwithberries

A/n: haven't written for my bae, snow leopard, so i had to write sum for her

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

[Masterlist]

[inkskinned]

i have spent a few days listening to the music you like. you have a tattoo of the band's logo on your ribs. you got it when you were still kind of a kid. my first tattoo was a bird instead. i did the math - we got our first tattoos in the same calendar year. isn't that kind of cool.

my mom loves hallmark movies, so i grew up thinking love would look like a firework. it feels like one, after all. it's just that my house wasn't safe. i thought love was a weapon, could be pointed at your eyes. could lose a finger to it, or teeth. my father used to say passion is everything. i thought that meant constant fighting was a good thing. i thought that meant love looked like a week of bickering, because it was worth the the weekend's boombox apology. i thought quiet love was boring. i thought love had to blot out everything, compel the body and the mind like puppetry. i thought love looks like ruining your own dinner table - but at least you set a feast.

but love looks like a scarf. your hands smoothing it down my chest, being sure each of the edges are tucked in, worried about my asthma attacks being cold-activated. i race you while i'm wearing heels, you hold my hand to guide me downhill while walking my dog. we dance in my living room to waltz of the flowers, i show you how to hold your arms in proper ballet port de bras. you write a song about looking out of my window while the snow falls. i ask you to text my friends back while i'm driving. you play dj in the front seat. somewhere on route 93, we start murmuring about secret things.

oh. there is a difference between peace and dispassion. it was never that i feared quiet, it's that i didn't know what safe felt like. i liked the chaos because it was familiar, not because it was kind. i think i used to fear the word wife. i didn't like the idea of long, lonely days and being yelled at for small things. i didn't like the idea of sacrificing my one beautiful life.

you meet my friends and make a point to learn things about them. we both get excited about the other person's passions. you read my book for hours, squinting at the small words. i try to understand basic guitar information. we talk for four hours on the phone while i string together a garland. we talk for six hours while you write a poem. i save a pintrest tip for the summer about making paper kites. i plan us a week-long trip to maine, map out my favorite places for an eventual hike. you fall asleep on the ride home, and i turn down the radio so it won't wake you up. your quiet hands fold over mine.

when i look up, the stars are brighter. how carefully you've woven gold into the corners of my life. when i move, i feel some part of my soul reflected back onto you.

oh, love is not a net. it's a blanket.

[bernardsbendystraws]

ೃ࿔*:･ Snow .ᐟ Reader x FWB.ᐟ Matt

You had the perfect idea - you want Matt to be marked and messy.

⚠︎ smut, more smut, even more fucking smut, dry humping tho, im too fucking horny from this idek read at ur own risk, barely proofread

[ Can be standalone but here's Part One ]

His dick is painfully pulsing, the sight of you like this driving him absolutely insane. You’re straddling his lap while he’s sprawled flat on your bed, dressed in the silky blue matching set that made his eyes frantically draw over your skin—especially the parts of your body that were covered in a delicate lace. 

“Baby, hey—mmmm,” Matt moans, his nostrils flaring as he attempts to suck in a heavy breath while his eyes squint shut. 

The mischief etched on your face is enticing, it’s enough to warn him that every time you ‘accidentally’ tease him has a purpose. It’s un-fucking-believable. 

Your teeth gently gnaw into the inside of your cheek, the sheer heat from his body radiating upwards making your skin crawl with anticipation. The hairs behind your neck feel like they’re tingling with some sort of electricity—some sort of sensation that makes your entire body flood with an unbearable ache. 

“There,” you announce, clicking the cap back on your eyeliner as you worship the sight below you. It’s your name—his chest is decorated with the black eyeliner, each letter making your lips purse into a devious smile. 

As you let your eyes drift upward, you're met with a sight that makes your stomach drop.The way he’s looking at you is everything—the way he’s already breathless and all you’ve done is written a couple letters on his skin like it was your personal canvas of passion. 

Matt licks over his lips, his mouth parting while he lets out short pants as his hands grip tighter on your hips. “Sweetheart, I…fuck, you’re so sexy like this—so—so fuckin’ perfect like this,” he purrs, his hands groping and massaging into your skin greedily. Your heart races from the incessant touch, the thrill pulsing from your heartbeat and echoing in every part of your body—especially between your legs. 

You had to lean forward in order to get a good enough grip on the eyeliner to draw your name neatly across his chest. Matt opted for stripping down to just his briefs, wanting you to be well aware of how hot this was to him since you had been hesitant to ask to do it in the first place. 

And god—now you’re brutally aware of how much he’s enjoying this. Especially as you sit back down, his hard bulge pressing directly against you through the thin silk in a way that makes your body pulse with a dizzy sensation—one that makes it a little hard to breathe properly. But you’re not complaining. You could never complain about this hazy feeling—some sort of dreamy cloud consuming your senses with a feeling of a hot bliss. 

“Matt.”

Your hushed words are paired with a relaxed face. He wants to respond, he tries to gather up the thick amount of saliva gathering in his mouth in order to speak—but fails. 

The second you shift your body to grind your core directly on him, he’s gone—his eyes roll back, his grip on your hips relentless, and his abdomen tensing as he feels a coil of pleasure knotting in his gut. 

“You’re—you’re such a fuckin’ teas—”

He doesn’t get to finish the complaint—not before your eyes drift down to his chest, the display of your name making some sort of possessive urge fall over you with complete lust. And the feeling moves your body for you, your muscles and ligaments only a vessel of overwhelming emotions as you glide yourself to roll your hips. 

God. You feel his girth slide between your folds, the ridge of his tip brushing against your clit despite the two thin layers left separating the two of you. 

“Shit—fuck,” Matt seethes, his eyes squinted shut as his hands keep you pull tighter against  him, the silk apparently more damp as he moves grinds himself up against you. 

Your brows scrunch together, your mouth drawing into an open circle as Matt really starts to hump himself up against you with pure, feral desire. 

A gasp purses through your lips, your hands falling onto his chest as you try to find some sort of balance while he practically fucks you through the minimal clothes left between your bodies. Your sweaty palms are met with a tacky texture, your eyes barely open enough for you to see the slight smudge of letters from your name being written on his chest. 

“My girl, my—my fuckin’ girl. All dolled up for me, hm?” he tuts, drunk off every sensation as he lets his body follow instinct. 

It’s fucking hot. 

Matt’s under you, small pants and moans leaving his mouth as he ruts himself into you from below, desperately clinging onto your hips as he keeps you pulled against himself with each hard drive of his cock pummeling against your clothed core. 

“I—mhm, for…for—you,” you puff, your voice cracking when he hits an especially sensitive spot that makes you feel like you’re bursting with pleasure. 

It’s barely anything, but it’s a lot. The way you look so dazed above him makes his motions more eager, the sounds leaving his lips becoming louder and louder while he tries to keep a steady pace in the one spot that seems to make you react the most with your nails grasping to dig along his chest. 

“You close? I…I can feel it,” he says, almost like he’s laughing to mock you as you let out an admirable cry. 

You nod quickly, your head bobbing as your eyes squint shut, your body becoming more stiff and reluctant. “-uh, uh,” Matt warns, gripping your hips so tightly that your body is forced to feel every sensation, “-no runnin, sweetheart. I…I gotta make my girl feel so good, hm? Just like—fuck, just like I promised.” 

You wanna smack him for sounding so cocky, but you can’t find it in yourself to do anything but cry and moan as he uses precise movements to somehow target every nerve between your legs. 

It’s so good. You can’t help but scratch along his chest, your thighs burning as every muscle runs stiff while complete euphoria washes over you. 

“M—matt, god!” you breath, your voice heavy with a certain tone that makes him feel his own orgasm inching up on him fast.

“Gonna—gonna fucking cum—I—mmm, god,” he moans, his voice strained as his eyes roll to the back of his head, the wave of pure bliss making it hard to concentrate on what he’s doing as his hips buck uncontrollably, losing his previous rhythm. 

The warm sticky cum erupting through the fabric of his briefs makes your mouth water, your eyes bulging as you drink in the sight of him—marked and messy. 

“Perfect fuckin’ idea, baby. I….god, you’re just perfect,” he huffs, trying to catch his breath as his hands start to pet up and down the tops of your thighs soothingly. 

You bite on your lower lip, your mind and body still buzzing from the after effects of your orgasm as you smile to yourself.

It really was the perfect idea.

A/N: Bitch. I don't even need lube atp, I AM lube tf

·˚ ༘ ʚ 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒊𝒈 𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒔, ���𝒐𝒔𝒆 𖧧

꒰ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ๑ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ๑ 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ꒱

[munsster]

sharing a bed (trope bingo)

A/N: i could melt (pun not intended. you’ll see) this trope is literally my fav, all my fics would be about it if i could… (gif creds: @bubbarnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Summary: You're cold, Bucky's a living heater. Need I say more? 1.2k words

Warnings: fluff, fluff, more fluff, sharing a bed, cuddling, nervous/borderline horny Bucky, pet names (doll, sweetheart)

You should have made this decision before your fingertips went numb. November in a northern motel room found you freezing. In basketball shorts and a crewneck, no less. You should have been in California by now, but Bucky has been dragging his feet since Maine. Though, he does drive more than half the time, so it's a sacrifice you had been willing to take.

There's no snow on the ground, but you can feel the beginnings of it on the damp pavement. Your socks are soaked through, and you cringe making a mental note to burn them. You cross your arms over your chest and tuck your fingers under your armpits, jaw clacking as you shiver. The heater in your room scuttled hurriedly to a wheezing stop five minutes after whacking it alive.

Now you're shifting from left to right outside Bucky's door with your blood about to run purple. He hollered something through the door when you knocked the second time. It was either a it's unlocked or a don't come in and you don't trust your hearing enough to distinguish between the two at midnight.

"Bucky," you whine, resting your forehead just below the peephole and trying to shake the low beating sound from your ears. You lift your head. Footsteps then a rattling chain, and he whips the door open.

"Why are you up?"

"What?" How could he be annoyed right now when you're freezing your ass off and you can practically feel the heat rolling out of his room in waves. "I'm cold."

"Well... what am I supposed to do about that?"

You roll your eyes and glare up at him. You could swear he's doing it on purpose. You could swear he's making mental bets just to play with you. Right now he's betting all his cash on who'll crack first. His bet's on you. It always is.

"James, I swear to fucking God—I will walk back to Brooklyn if you don't—"

"Jesus, don't have an aneurism, doll. Come in," he mumbles. You follow him into the little square motel room: one bed, one table, half a bathroom. Plus a TV that only plays soaps and, half the time, crackles with static. The door shuts, and you sigh. You're swaddled by heat; the blood gushes back into the tip of your nose. You can feel your joints again.

"Take this." He tosses a coat at you. At you. It's heavy and green and thick. It's army grade. "Put it on." So you put it on and zip it up. He chuckles at the sight of you because the jacket is massive: down to your knees, quarter-foot past your fingertips. It dwarfs you. It's incredible.

"I feel like a gym teacher."

"What?"

"It's a... mm… nevermind," you hum, "'M tired." Your eyes sink shut, and he watches you from the bed, entertained by your sleep-standing act. For a second, he thinks you're actually gonna fall asleep like that. But then your eyes snap wide open and he looks away.

Bucky shuffles under the sheets, and you watch him curiously through the window of the coat's hood. You suppose you'd missed the fact that he's wearing only boxers, completely shirtless with his cropped hair messily flared around his head. You start to sweat.

He looks up when you whine. "What now?"

"... It's hot."

"You're killin' me, doll."

"I know, I'm sorry," you huff, hands fiddling the flannel insides of the hot jacket sleeves. He watches you struggle to glance at the floor and becomes flush with pity for you. He sighs.

"Alright, hon, take that off and c'mere. We'll get you warm, hmm? Come here."

You flail your arm before latching onto the metal zipper tab and tugging it down with a hissing bzzzz. Bucky watches you relax and let the coat slump to the floor before you peel your socks off and toss them in the small metal trashcan by the door. You pad your way to the empty side of the bed and pat the moth-eaten comforter a few times, smoothing your hand over the soft cotton.

"Don't be shy now. I probably won't bite," he teases.

"You piss me off, Barnes."

"Oh, feel free to freeze your ass off in your room, sweetheart. I'm doin' you a favor."

You harrumph and swing your legs onto the mattress, sliding yourself under the sheets and tucking the blankets under your chin. You face the door, and Bucky settles in beside you, leaving a comfortable six inches of space between you. He faces the wall.

"Night, Bucky."

"Goodnight."

You’re not sure when you fell asleep, and you don't know when Bucky got so close. Or when you turned around. What you do know is that Bucky runs red hot in the middle of the night. Or maybe all the time, but you've never been skin-to-skin in the day. Hell could freeze over and Bucky would still be an inferno.

Sometime between two and three, you tossed around and ended up facing him as he crept closer unconsciously. His hands felt empty in dreams about dancing, so he reached into the darkness and tucked his fingers into the crooks of your knees to draw you into his warm body. On instinct—and because you're still in need of thawing—you curl into him and let your heart beat comfortably alongside his.

Bucky's a talker. He's a vocal sleeper. Good thing his deal was talking. Becca got saddled with sleep walking, and he remembers Ma asking him to install an extra lock high up to keep her from wandering out at twilight. Again. They'd found her mumbling at a brick wall half a block away one night and decided it was for the best.

Now he's rambling on about goats, describing their rough coats as he nuzzles into your navel. His palm spread over your back, he keeps you close, taut to every bit of his body, your leg draped over his waist.

He moans. Loud. And you shift in your sleep, fingers moving to cup the back of his head, brushing through his soft hair. His scalp is hot, and you sigh lazily as you melt further into his tight skin and smooth muscle. If either of you had woken up, it would've been a bloodbath. But for now, it's peaceful, and a dove coos from a lamppost outside.

A couple of times, you open your eyes but find yourself so disoriented, you can't bother to assume it's anymore than a dream and pass out again. At the crack of dawn, Bucky's lashes flutter open, and each of his veins flows with new life and the rising sun. It takes a second for him to realize he's breathing in the warmth of your skin. And he doesn't hate it.

He falls back asleep.

In the morning, you're both too busy adjusting to central standard time to register that you'd been pressed up close and personal all night. Too busy to acknowledge the comfort you both found in each others arms. And hands.

Over breakfast at the twenty-four-hour diner, he smiles meekly, and you blink down at your short stack like nothing happened. Like nothing ever will.

marvel masterlist

[strnilolover]

Cabin On The Mountain

in which . . . matt and reader decide to go to a cabin for a get away up on the mountains, secluded from everyone and everything else. what happens when they get snowed in their first night and matt decides on how to keep them busy?

content warnings : this is a short little mini series that will explicitly contain smut and mature themes. this whole thing will basically be smut with zero to very little plot whatsoever. this also skips a lot, so they are all different days and things they do each day. length also may very (they will mostly be short, but can be longer).

additional warnings : none for this part!

intro , one , two , three

INTRO

day one and two…

going to a cabin up on the mountains was something you and matt had been wanting to do for a while. going to a place that was away from everyone—secluded and quiet. it wasn’t often that you both got time for just yourselves, so when the opportunity came, you snatched it.

the drive up the mountain had been long, winding roads twisting through towering trees dusted with snow, but it was exactly what you and matt needed—a break from everything.

the cabin was nestled in the quiet solitude of the woods, it was small but cozy, with a stone fireplace and windows that reached from the floor to the ceiling. they framed the snow-covered trees like a painting, making them look absolutely gorgeous.

“look at how beautiful it is matt.” you said once he parked the car, quickly unbuckling yourself and slipping out the passenger door. your head tipped back to look at the building, already feeling the comfort it would bring to your tense mind.

“it’s very beautiful. but not as beautiful as you.” matt said, a smirk tugging at his lips as you just glared at him—heat crawling up your neck. you never could take a compliment from him even after all this time.

by the time you got everything inside—your bags, the groceries, the thick blankets you insisted on bringing—night had fallen, casting a peaceful hush over the mountain. the two of you had settled in quickly, lighting the fireplace and curling up on the couch side by side. your head resting against matt’s shoulder as he scrolled through his phone absentmindedly. the air smelt of pine and firewood—the smell bringing you comfort.

it kind of reminded you of matt in a way—this was all matt.

“y’know,” matt started, turning his head slightly to look at you. “I could get used to this. just us being out here with no loud noises. no one to disturb us.” he smiled at the thought, leaning down to press a kiss to your head. “would live here with you.”

you hummed in agreement, closing your eyes as his arm draped over your shoulders, pulling you in just a little closer. the two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in the comfort of the moment, before eventually dragging yourselves to bed.

outside, the snow had started falling, light at first but quickly picking up, swirling through the air like something out of a movie. you hadn’t noticed—you were too warm, too comfortable, too wrapped up in the feeling of matt beside you as you both drifted off to sleep.

⸻

the next morning came quicker than you would have liked and you woke to an eerie sort of quiet. no birds, no wind, just… silence. slowly you stretched your arms above your head, rubbing your eyes before turning over on your side to glance over at matt, who was still buried beneath the blankets, face pressed into the pillow.

you giggled softly, reaching a hand out to brush his hair away from his face before you sat up, stretching once more. swinging your legs over the side of the bed you slipped out of the warmth and padded over to the window to pull back the curtains—only to be met with pure white staring back at you.

you squinted, temporarily blinded as the brightness hurt your eyes. you couldn’t believe it—the snow had doubled, even tripled over night and now..you couldn’t even see where things ended and where they began.

your stomach dropped slightly—you weren’t necessarily scared, just nervous at what to do. considering you and matt both had plans that were now going to have to be put on hold.

“matt.” you said, turning back towards the bed as you saw his body shift against the sheets. no response, so you tried again.

“matt baby, wake up.” finally a groggy, muffled sound came from the bed. “hmm?” you rolled your eyes at his response, and you couldn’t help but to smile—but that was quickly wiped away once you remembered what you were trying to tell him.

“we’re snowed in.” and that got his attention. he groaned, turning himself over and dragging himself up before stumbling over to stand beside you, eyes narrowing at the wall of snow blocking the view. “holy shit.” he breathed.

you turned to him. “what do we do? i mean we had plans that we had for the day.” you asked, worry laced through your voice.

he ran a hand through his messy hair, sighing. “well… we could panic, or…” he turned to you with a smirk, “we could take advantage of it.” you narrowed your eyes. “take advantage of being trapped?”

and he nodded. “think about it,” he said, reaching out and wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you against his bare chest before he peered down at you.

“now we have an excuse to do absolutely nothing. no expectations, no interruptions—just us.” and now his mind was racing with just exactly what they could do.

a/n : i came up with this on a whim, props to me for sticking it out and already having the next few parts of this either done or being written.

[jungkookstatts]

All Over Again

[Summary]: Paternity leave has its effects on Jungkook. After his first day back at work, he can't help but show you how much he doesn't want to go back.

[Theme]: Dad!Jk, CEO!Jk, Married Couple AU, Parent's AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes. Marking, kissing, nipple play, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up y'all), dom!JK, mentions of another pregnancy, talks of pregnancy and getting pregnant, etc.

[Word Count]: 4,274

[A/N]: This is a pure result of the urge my body suddenly gets to want a child right before my period smh. Anyway, felt cute, might delete later once I am sane.

It’s been a long ass day. Jungkook’s white button-up feels stapled to his skin, his pants folding uncomfortably with every step he makes as he exits his office. A long finger comes up to his neck, digging underneath his striped tie, wiggling it a little to loosen the chokehold it has around his neck. His other hand feels bound to his briefcase, which carries so much importance in his life but yet so much burden at the same time.

It’s his first day back at work after his baby boy was born. The briefcase he holds reminds him of the duty he has to his family — of his passion and his support for you and your baby. But it also reminds him of the time it has ripped away from spending with you. He clutches it with so much strength at the thought of you, pulling his car keys out of his pocket and pressing the unlock button so hard, that he thinks he almost might just break it.

With a deep breath, he takes off his tie and tosses it in the passenger seat along with his briefcase. He’s ready to go home. That picture of you, him, and your son that you insisted on framing and Jungkook bringing to work has been a constant reminder of what he has to look forward to at the end of the day. If only his paternity leave could have been longer. You and his son are all he’s been able to think about. How you were doing, if you needed his help, if Jaemun was being feisty, how the cute crinkle on his nose resembles yours to a T.

It’s late January, and the winter air is unforgiving. He wonders if you have the heat on high enough; if Jaemun had enough blankets, or if the tip of your nose was cold like how it always is in the winter months. He can imagine you holding him close, swaddling him as you sing to him delicately. The thought makes his whole body warm, even though the air is so cold that it feels like glass is cutting against his skin.

He’s convinced he will take more time off. He’s the CEO, after all. He could take months off and it not matter. He wants to be with you always — at all times of the day to hold you and be there for you like he should be. If only the world had been that easy to where passions didn’t have a price. He got lucky, his passion having a heavy penny attached to it. But he wonders where that passion took something more valuable away from him — time. He finds himself now strapped between the choice of time and passion, and he fights the fact that he cannot choose both.

The door to your home is welcoming to his eyes as he pulls up to it. It’s not big by any means. Just homey and enough for the three of you. Even with the snow covering almost every inch of it, the reminder of how warm it is on the inside makes his drive to enter it even greater. He does so with a shiver, coming up to your shared home with a stomp of his boots to shake off the snow just before he enters.

To his surprise, he’s met with hushed music coming from the kitchen as he puts his winter coat on the hook, places his briefcase on the wooden floor, and shimmies out of his shoes. He looks at his watch first, making sure it’s not Jaemun’s nap time, to which he finds out it is. The soft music makes sense now, and he smiles when he makes his way down the hallway to the source of the noise.

The rest of the house is dark except for the kitchen-living room area that you and your baby rest in. Jaemun is peacefully sleeping in his bassinet by the couch, cuddling his dinosaur blanket, while you are by the stove, stirring something.

You look over your shoulder at the sound of familiar footsteps, and your heart immediately softens at the sight of your husband in the doorframe. He smiles back tiredly, running his hand through his hair in an exhausted attempt to pull himself together before he makes his way over to you. He looks relieved, like he’s finally received what he’s wanted all day. You’re happy to see him, knowing all too well that that’s what you’ve been waiting for all day, too.

Big, warm hands slide around your waist, a heavy chin rests on your shoulder as he kisses your cheek softly. He takes a deep breath, breathing in your presence as he releases the tension from work off his shoulders. You tend to have an instant effect on him — he missed you so much.

“You’re stirring water?” he laughs as he stares at the pot of water on the stove, unboiled, as you stir it as if it is.

“I’m trying to get it to boil quicker,” you explain with a defeated sigh. “Doesn’t seem to be working. I feel like I’ve been standing here for 20 minutes.”

He hums from behind you, taking your stirring hand and stopping your motions. You’ve never been a big cooker, but he knows you’ve been trying lately. “Just let it be, love. It’ll get there.”

You do as he says, putting the ladle down on the countertop and turning around in his embrace. You wrap your arms around his neck, staring at the tall man who holds you close against him. You’re met with a tired Jungkook who rests his forehead against yours as you play with the hairs at the back of his head.

“How was work?” you ask gently.

He groans, wrapping his hands around your waist and holding you tighter against him. It causes you to rest your cheek on his shoulder, hugging him in full.

“That bad?” you chuckle.

Your husband just sighs against your neck. “It’s too early to go back, Y/n,” he candors.

You tuck a strand of hair that fell in front of his face behind his ear. “We’re ok, Kook,” you comfort. But he only shakes his head, making the tucked strand fall out of its place again.

“I’m not,” he says. “I want to be here with you. Spend time with Jaemun before he’s suddenly 25.”

You chuckle at that. It does feel like that sometimes. It’s been three months since your son was born, but it feels like it was just yesterday that you were holding him for the first time.

You can only hold his cheek in response, running your thumb slowly against his soft skin. You feel for him, you really do. He’s such a good father. It makes your heartstrings tug and twist and pull every time you see him with your little boy. It’s only a matter of time before you have to go back to work as well. The thought makes your stomach turn, and you can completely sympathize with your husband dreading going back to work and leaving you and Jaemun.

“Your water is boiling,” he breaks you out of your daze.

“Oh,” you turn around. You smile, knowing he was right before. “I’m making pasta if that sounds ok?”

Jungkook kisses your neck in response, a gentle thing that has your tummy flipping for a second.

“You could also probably wake up our son,” you check the time on the microwave. “He’s been a little sleepy today, so I let his nap go for a little longer than usual.”

You add the pasta in and turn the water down, moving over to the greens left on the cutting board. You start chopping until your husband’s lips move lower.

“Our son,” he whispers, kissing your collarbone. The statement makes him jittery. It feels unreal still, even after nine months of waiting, and another three of actually having your little family here with him. You’re his wife, the mother of his kid, and he loves you more than anything in the world. You gave him something he can never find an equivalent to giving back to you. You gave him your heart and a family, and there’s nothing that can replace or overcome what that means to him. His soul lives for yours; it’s overwhelming what you’ve done for him. It’s overwhelming how you make him feel.

He kisses your collarbone softly once again, his heart full. You tilt your head to the side for more, and he gives it to you, kissing up your neck with slow wet kisses.

“Kook,” you exhale gently. You feel him hum against the skin just under your ear. Large palms cup your waist, his body moving closer to yours, trapping your hips against the countertop. Your knife feels loose in your hand when he bites at your skin gently, his tongue brushing over the bite mark afterward.

He stirs something within you. Something that you’ve missed terribly for the past few months. It makes your thighs tremble as he gently caresses your skin under his fingertips.

“The baby—“ you begin, but Jungkook’s motions cut you off yet again when his fingers slowly slide down your front. He’s unsure, his hand hesitating over your skin as his breath stops momentarily in thought.

“Is this okay?” He asks you genuinely. You nearly fall to your knees, dropping your knife onto the board, when his fingers put pressure over your clothed mound. It’s subtle, and much more gentle than what you’re used to with him. You know he’s being cautious, but god did you miss him. “If it’s too much, I’ll pull away.”

You shake your head.

It’s been a long time since the two of you have gotten intimate. Childbirth wasn’t easy, and your doctor just recently gave you two the “ok” for sex. The first time you tried since then wasn’t like what you’re used to with your husband. It was slow and painful, ending with a lot of apologies, embarrassment, and frustration. It’s safe to say that you have to get used to sex all over again.

“No,” you lean against him. “J-Just be gentle. I’m still a little sore.”

“Ok,” he whispers against your neck, kissing it softly. “Just relax for me, baby. I’ll make it feel good, I promise.”

You nod, loosening your nervous shoulders as your husband takes control. He stops swiftly for a second, turning the stove on the lowest setting before looking over his shoulder at his son to ensure he’s still fast asleep. Once he sees that he is, he immediately returns to you.

“So good for me,” he says, slowly circling your clit over your sweats. His other hand squeezes your waist before it moves up, sliding under your shirt and trickling over your breast. You’re wearing a soft bra today—one without an underwire—which makes it easier for him to slide his fingers under.

You whimper when he softly massages your boob, his fingers playing with your nipples gently. Your body, especially your breasts, has become 10x more sensitive since birth. You can feel everything, and everything either hurts or feels really really good. Whenever your husband seems to hold them, you’re a whimpering mess, melting like putty in his arms as he plays with you.

“Sensitive,” Jungkook smiles. His fingers rub harder against you, and you subtly buck your hips against him. His lips graze against your skin, his hair tickling your collarbone as he assaults your neck over and over again. 

“You’re so cute when you’re pregnant,” he rasps against your cheek before planting a sweet kiss upon it. “Wanna see you like that all the time. So full of me — carrying our babies.”

“Jungkook, I—” you whine, grasping onto his wrist. You’re unsure what to do with yourself, wanting him to do so much to you, but not knowing where to start.

The man behind you takes his hand away from your mound, and he chuckles when you whine in protest. But his thumbs hook on your pants and underwear, slowly pulling them down.

“Relax, baby,” he asks again. “I told you, I’m gonna take care of you. Don’t worry.”

His hand slides around your waist again, smoothing over your skin until it’s sliding between your folds. The back of your hand comes up to your mouth as your other grips the countertop for support as he plays with you.

“So wet,” he moans, feeling the effect he’s had on you with his fingers. “This all for me? I’ve barely touched you yet.”

You nod, feeling completely at the mercy of the man behind you. His other hand plays with your nipple again, and you feel another wave of euphoria go straight to your pussy.

His fingers gather your slick generously, smoothing it over your clit before circling it gently. He plays infinities over it, making your knees go weak. It’s getting harder to stay quiet, especially when he pinches your nipple gently, making you gasp at the soreness and pleasure it causes.

“K-Kook,” you whine, but he only chuckles, quickening his motions on your clit as he presses further into you. You can feel his dick strained against his work pants, and the thought of him inside you again makes you feel so needy for him. “Want you,” you pant. “Please.”

“Patience,” he shushes you, kissing your neck surely. “I haven’t even made you cum yet.”

“Wanna cum with you,” you whine in protest.

“You will,” he promises.

You gasp as he switches his finger, his thumb trading places with his middle. It circles over you just the same, except this time, it’s joined by his middle finger slowly inserting itself between your folds.

“Oh,” you exhale, feeling weak when he pumps it in and out of you slowly.

He lets himself test your reactions, seeing if the insertion is too much — if it hurts or feels uncomfortable. It doesn’t seem to be, and he slowly lets his ring finger join with his middle, causing you to roll your eyes back slightly.

“So good for me, baby,” he encourages. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes,” you reply almost immediately.

He kisses your neck. His lips leave hot, wet marks all over your skin as he curls his fingers against your g-spot. His other hand quickly comes to your waist, stabilizing you as you whimper against the back of your hand, trying your best to keep quiet.

He circles his thumb faster, his fingers circling and brushing against your g-spot in tandem with his movements. You feel your orgasm looming over you, and with a certain pressure against your clit, you’re coming undone just as he said you would all over his fingers.

“There you are,” he coaxes you. You’re a whimpering mess, and he feels his dick twitch at the sight of you falling apart on his fingers. He helps you ride out your high, his fingers very gently brushing over your clit as you come down.

Once you're calmed down, you reach around you, playing with his belt loop as you rest your head on his shoulder and look up at him. He looks back down, hesitating again knowing what you want but unsure if it’s too much for you to handle yet.

“What,” he smiles teasingly with a kiss to your forehead.

“I want you,” you candor, looking at up him with pleading eyes.

He kisses your nose. “Are you sure? You said it hurt last time.”

You nod. “Please, Koo,” you beg him.

His chest rises, and he takes a deep breath before he nods, kissing you gently as he unbuckles his belt. He places it on the counter before unzipping himself and pulling his pants down. It springs up, pressing itself against your skin gently. But he takes himself in his hands, hesitantly letting it slide down over your folds. 

“Let me know if I’m hurting you, okay?” He says, lining himself up to you with a few strokes of his cock. God, was he nervous. The last time sex hurt really bad for you, and that was just a week ago. He wonders if the prep was enough; he hopes it was, he really doesn’t want to hurt you again.

You nod, holding onto the countertop again as his tip rubs against your entrance. Your coat his cock in such slickness, even you’re surprised at how much you leak onto him. You miss your husband. You need this bad, and so does he.

“Oh, and try to stay quiet, yeah?” He says with a push of his hips. The motion has him covering your mouth with his hand, shielding your moans quickly. “The baby is still sleeping.”

His dick slips past your folds so smoothly, it has you gasping for breath at how good it feels. It’s nothing like the last time. He’s gentler, but still so so big, he fills you up just right.

“Fuck,” he whispers against your neck once he sheathes himself fully inside of you. The man behind you stills, completely overwhelmed with the feeling of you. He, too feels like he’s had to relearn sex all over again. How to please you right now that your body has changed, how to make sure that you are comfortable with his pace and size. You two haven’t had sex like this in so long, he feels overwhelmed when you feel almost too good for him to control. A part of him is embarrassed by how quickly he thinks he’s going to last. 

“How are you still so tight, hm?” he asks with a firm grip on your hip. “Y-You okay?”

You can only nod, pushing your hips down against him. The motion forces him further into you, to which both of you grunt at the feeling.

Testingly, Jungkook pulls out slowly, before pushing back into you a little quicker than before. You coat him generously, creating a motion that makes it easy for him to repeat. 

He develops a pace, fucking you against the kitchen countertop with your juices leaking all over his cock and down your thighs. The stove is on and your baby still sleeps; there are uncut vegetables in front of you and your husband still wears his work shirt. But he fucks you as if none of that matters. As if his only priority is to make sure you feel good, to let yourself go as he fuck you deep and just how you like it. 

His hand comes off from your mouth and settles on your hip. His other hand wraps around your front, holding you impossibly close against his body.

You moan softly when he bends you over slightly against the countertop, the new angle making it hard for you to stay quiet. But you push your hips against him anyway, telling him without words to go deeper.

The action causes him to moan, following your request with a snap of his hips.

“You like it that much, hm?” He grunts, cock ramming into you. “Like it when I knock you up good?”

“Y-Yes!” You whisper. “I love it so much, Koo.”

“Y-yeah?” He leans over you. A tattooed hand cups over yours, palm embracing the back of your hand as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Gonna let me do it again?”

“Mmhm,” you squeeze his fingers. “As many times as y-you want.”

“A-Ah,” he pants, mind going into a frenzy over your words. The fact that he is yours, that you are his. That only he can hear you say that. That only he can make you feel this good. That only he has the privilege of calling you his wife. It makes his heart warm and his cock twitch. 

“God, I’m going to ruin you if you say things like that, Y/n,” he warns. But you are relentless, leaning your head back on his shoulder, giving yourself to him further. 

“W-Want you to,” you whimper. “I love you.” 

Your legs shake, completely weak from your past orgasm and your new one forming at the pit of your stomach. His cock makes you feel so full, like you’re stretched to the max capacity as he fucks you good. You know he’s close when his dick twitches inside of you after your words, which only encourages you to gain some strength and begin fucking yourself back on his cock.

“Mm, fuck,” he grips your hips tightly. “M’ gonna cum.”

He quickly reaches around you again, drawing infinities over your clit with his middle finger. His eyes roll back as your cunt naturally tightens at the feeling. Your hips jolt and the knots in your tummy slowly start to unravel themselves onto his dick as you come undone. Just as he had promised, with a final twitch, he’s cumming inside of you with hot, thick ropes filling you up with whispered exhales of your name on his lips.

He lets the two of you catch your breath, his forehead resting on your shoulder before he’s pulling out, shared cum leaking down your thighs and onto the floor. Quickly, he grabs a paper towel from the roll next to the stove and cleans you up a little.

With gentle hands, he helps you back into your sweats before he helps himself into his boxers. He still lingers behind you when he reaches a hand around you and turns the stove on a higher setting once again. 

You turn around, wrapping your hands around his neck as you pull him in for a much-needed kiss. “I love you,” you whisper against him again. His hair falls onto your skin, dark locks intertangling with yours as his fingers come up to hold your face against his. Soft lips sear over yours, telling you things that simply cannot be put into words. 

“I love you, too,” he brushes his nose against yours. “Was that okay? I didn’t hurt you?”

You pause, looking up at his dilated pupils. He looks at you like you're his world; like he's given you his heart with the full intent of never receiving it back from you. You nod, kissing him softly again. 

“You should probably wake up your son now,” you poke his cheek.

Looking at the time on the microwave, he snaps out of his daze. “Oh fuck,” he says as his fingers leave your side. You watch him leave you with a chuckle, turning back to your pasta wondering how in the world you go so lucky to marry and mother a kid to this man. You’d truly give him anything he wanted. 

***

[Bonus]

With gentle hands, so big against his baby’s frame, he picks Jaemun up in his arms, holding him against his chest. His dinosaur blanket swaddles him softly, and Jungkook does his best to make sure he’s correctly supported and held despite the extra fabric over his small frame. 

Jaemun stirs, and Jungkook places a soft kiss on his tiny head before he gets the chance to freak out and cry. The baby seems to know exactly who is holding him, and he nearly falls back asleep at the familiarity of his father’s arms. But Jungkook bounces him against his chest softly, slowly waking him up for dinnertime.

He makes his way over to you, making unnecessary airplane noises, from what you assume is Jungkook pretending to be an airplane and his son the passenger.

“You know, babies can’t laugh until they’re about 4 months,” you shake your head with a laugh.

“False,” your husband comes behind you again. “I swear he’s laughed before.”

You chuckle, taking the pan off the stove and pouring the insides into a strainer. Just the noodles are left in the strainer now, and you realize that you haven’t thought past the part of boiling the noodles. You ignore that you have no idea what kind of pasta you’re making when Jungkook rests himself against the kitchen island. 

Jaemun catches sight of you, and his arm reaches for you in Jungkook’s hold. You come over, giving him a kiss on the forehead before kissing your husband.

“Were you serious?” your husband asks you suddenly. 

“About?” you raise your eyebrow. 

“You know,” he gulps, holding Jaemun a little tighter. He rests against Jungkook's shoulder, his eyes tempting to fall back asleep again. “More kids.” 

You raise both your eyebrows again, looking at him as if he was serious. His heart beats faster when he realizes what you’re thinking, quickly rephrasing himself. 

“N-Not now, of course,” he gulps. 

You turn around, opening the fridge for some milk for Jaemun as you listen to him. You take out a pot, take the cased breast milk from earlier, and pour it in, turning on the stove afterward. 

“I just mean, like, in the future,” he explains.

There’s a long pause as you wait for the pot to heat up enough. The man behind you is weak, and you don’t know if you want to be mean and give him the blunt answer, or soften the blow. Watching how he cradles your son makes you want to go with the first choice. 

“Don’t you worry Jeon,” you start, as you stir the contents in the pot. You can hear him gulp behind you. “I planned on giving you as many babies as you want. But at least wait until Jaemun is in pre-school or something. I don’t think I can handle two infants at once.” 

You hear little from him at your answer, leaving you smirking knowing full well that you put the man behind you in a frenzy imagining the future you just laid out for him.

***

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]