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zorosunwashedleftcheek · 4 months ago

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Switchin’ Up Positions

Summary: OP men and their fav positions 👅

feat: Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Kidd

cw: f!reader, NSFW, spitting, biting, bruises, idk what to tell you this is a freaky fic

a/n: ignore how I already posted Zoro’s section. it’s NOT my problem… and i edited it bc it was highkey cheeks. Also if this is rushed… i don’t care

Zoro: ✨Riding✨

As a swordsman, he is constantly aware of what and who his back is facing towards. It’s been engrained in him since he was a young child to never leave the area unguarded.

And as much as he trusts you, there’s nothing stopping an enemy from breaking down the door and stabbing him in the back while he’s balls deep in your cunt.

You’re the one who proposed the idea of riding… and he shot it down immediately. He saw it as relinquishing control and hated the idea with every once of his being.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about it… when he’s on top of you, he’s never able to fully focus on you, his ears straining as they listen for enemies outside the door, waiting to attack him while he’s pounding your pretty wet pussy.

So after a few night of thinking, he begrudgingly made his way to your quarters and muttered something along the lines of, “I guess we can try it if you really want…”

And it’s been smooth sailing ever since. He still had complete control, one hand constantly gripping your hips to guide your pace. And he was able to pay attention to you fully and completely.

He found subtleties that he had never noticed before because he was too busy being paranoid. The way you would mewl just barely when his fingers curled and twisted in your cunt. The way your thighs would twitch when he pressed down on your tummy while also thrusting in.

Riding quickly became his go to.

He tastes of sake.

It’s as if he’s trying to consume you, his tongue jammed down your throat and his teeth clacking against yours. Zoro took everything he did to the extreme, and kissing was no exception. He may not be super experienced or skilled, but he was hungry, and that more than made up for it.

“C’mere…” Zoro wraps an arm around your waist and drags you down onto the bed, rolling you on top of him and running his hands up and down your bare legs. You’re wearing a skirt… far too small for his liking. And watching you dance and twirl with others all night pissed him off. …Sure, Zoro denied your numerous pleads to dance, but that didn’t mean that another man could fucking dip you, your head nearly touching the ground like that one guy had done.

Now the two of you are alone on the Thousand Sunny, the night still too young for the other Strawhats to retreat.

Zoro kicks off his pants and boxers in a swift motion, his cock sliding out to rest against his stomach, precum beading the tip. He looks up at you expectantly, a stupid smirk on his lips.

God, you hate that you know exactly what he wants.

Zoro grabs your skirt, bunching it up around your waist to watch as you hover above him, your fingers hooked around your panties to pull them aside. He licks his lips at the sight of your pretty pussy, a small string of arousal connecting your folds to the fabric of your underwear.

His hand slides to up and down your thigh, soothingly, before he brings his thumb down to your clit. Rolling his thumb with familiar practiced movements over your pearl, he watches with amused eyes as you suck in a harsh breath, your face flushing as you lick your lips.

“Put it in?” You huff softly, bracing your palms on Zoro’s bare abdomen and rocking your hips forward to rub against Zoro’s length. His mouth twitches and he curses softly under his breath.

Zoro scoffs in response, using his freehand to pop open your blouse. He trails his fingers down the expanse of your stomach before circling around to unclip your bra, freeing your breasts to his hungry gaze. “Why are you asking my permission. It’s yours. You put it in.”

Your nose wrinkles at his expression, he’s looking at you as though you’d asked the dumbest question he’s ever heard. You click your tongue, but lift yourself off of him. Grabbing his twitching cock, you give a few good pumps to spread his precum across his length before positioning his fat, pink tip against your leaking hole.

Zoro twists his hand in your hair and tugs you down for a kiss, his teeth scraping against your bottom lip. You’re dizzy just from his mouth, it’s astounding how you’re ever able to survive his dick.

You can hear Zoro hiss into your mouth as you slowly yet surely suck him inside of you. He’s snug, his tip scraping your walls with every small movement.

“Fuck… you’re good.” Zoro murmur quietly, breaking the kiss to watch your pussy eagerly gobble him up, your hips shimmying to accommodate his cock as it bullies its way into you.

“Zoro…” You groan softly, leaning back and bracing hand on his thigh, your back arching towards him, your tits laying tantalizingly close to his mouth.

“You want it? Yeah, I gotcha, just hold on.” Zoro plants his feet on the mattress, one large, calloused hand moving to grab your hip while the other paws at your breast, squeezing and rolling your areola between his thumb and forefinger. “Use those pretty thighs and help me out, how about it?”

Zoro starts out with a brutal pace, never one to ease into anything. He enjoys the feel of your nails biting into his thigh while the other rests on his navel. Your face is all screwed up, your nose wrinkled and your lips parted as he drills into you. You work to match his pace, but you don’t contribute much. It’s alright though, Zoro likes it that way. He loves having complete control, adjusting how fast you move and how deep you take it. His favorite thing to do is grab your hips and hold you up until just his tip is inside of you, and then watch as you squirm and roll your hips, desperate for the rest of his cock to fill you up.

Zoro leans forward, sucking your tit into his mouth and pressing searing kisses and bites down the valley of your breasts.

Your eyes meet his piercing grey gaze and he can feel your pussy flutter around him. God, everything got you wet, didn’t it?

Your brows furrow, a pout making its way onto your face as you pant, strangled whines and moans slipping past your lips.

“Shit… fucking…” Zoro closes his eyes and drops his head back against the pillows, he can’t even look at you without getting the urge to cum. Your pretty flustered face and those fluttering eyelashes always did him in.

He has to end this quick before he accidentally cums first.

Zoro wraps an arm around your back, tugging your chest down again his. He mouths at your shoulder, leaving shiny saliva in his wake as he adjusts his hips, allowing his cock to ram against your g-spot with each brutal thrust.

He continues to bite and suck along your neck and shoulder while his eyes focus on your thighs watching them twitch and shudder as your ass bounces up and down with each thrust.

“You… gonna cum?” Zoro chokes out as he feels you clamp down around him. It’s more of a statement than a question. He’s fucked you enough times to know your body better than he knows his own. Snaking a hand down to grope and massage your thigh, he drops his head back once again, willing his orgasm away for a few more moments.

Zoro’s not one to talk during sex. He’s way too concentrated on the sensations to try and string together sentences. But he knows that you absolutely adore the sound of his voice, the way it drops an octave when he’s aroused. And in emergency’s he knows that his voice can bring you to the edge with only a few sweet croons.

You give a small, weak nod, a whine tumbling out of your lips, “Fuck… yeah… ‘m gonna cum, Zoro. You’re gonna make me cum… please…”

His lips quirk at your needy voice, god, you’re so sweet to him. “The hell’s stopping you? I wanna feel you cream my cock. Come on… do it already. I’m getting bored.”

His words do unimaginable things to you, the low rasp alone can bring you straight to the edge. Within moments your gummy walls are clamping down around him as you roughly grind against his throbbing cock.

“Ah… shit, Z’ro… I can’t-“ You coo weakly, burrowing your face against Zoro’s neck as he continues to rock your hips, his navel bumping against your clit with each steady movement, causing your thighs to tremble as sharp hisses to escape your lips.

Zoro does his best to ease you through your orgasm, but eventually he has to hoist you off of his cock and set you down on his thighs so that he can pull out in time. Grabbing his blushing cock, he finally allows his orgasm to tear through his body. Zoro’s eyes squeeze shut, his body tensing as he shoots hot ropes of cum onto your stomach. He can feel the evidence of your orgasm dribbling out of your leaking pussy and pooling on his thighs.

“Fuck you’re so messy…” He drawls as a wrack of pleasure shoots down his spine.

The two of you lay in your mess, dozing in and out of sleep until you eventually grow uncomfortable, your mixed cum beginning to dry on both of yours’ body. Zoro doesn’t seem to mind in the least, his muscled arms wrapped tightly around your body, keeping you trapped as he snores softly.

“…Zoro.” You huff, tapping his cheek.

No response.

“Zoro.”

Nothing.

“Zoro!”

You smack his cheek, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to catch his attention. His eyes shoot open, searching the dark room for the cause of your yelling. “Hell’s your problem, woman?” He scoffs, raising a hand to his face and wiping sleep from his eyes.

“I feel gross. Let’s shower.”

“I don’t need a shower, I’ll wipe myself off with a towel or something.”

“God, you’re gross.” Sitting up on Zoro’s chest, you glare down at him. “Come on, just keep me company at least.”

“How about you ask the guy you were dancing with to shower with you.” Zoro grumbles, turning his head to the side to avoid your annoyed gaze.

“You’re still mad about that? You’re so stupid. Dancing doesn’t always have to be romantic.”

Zoro scowls at your insult, “You’re the stupid one, that guy’s dick was practically waving in the wind and begging for a hug when you asked to dance with him.”

“Oh shut up. I’m sorry, okay? I’ll never dance with anyone else ever again.” You tease, crossing your arms over your chest. Zoro’s gaze lazily slides to where your tits are being pushed up and squished together and his scowl slowly melts into a smirk.

You glare at his expression, but there’s no real heat behind it, that hungry look in his eyes has returned, his nap seemingly replenishing his energy. Perhaps there was only one way to get him clean.

“Shower sex?”

“Deal.”

Sanji- Missionary

Let’s be lowkey, Sanji’s default vanilla

He does NOT pull bc he’s such a freak, and when he finally gets together with you, he’s definitely clueless. He’s gotten all of his knowledge of intimacy from romance books and poems for sure

He’ll go along with anything you want, but his go to will always be good old missionary

He likes to see your face, to know that he’s making you feel good, but most importantly, he wants you to look into his eyes and see the undying devotion he has to you

He’s SO talkative, literal yapaholic in bed

He likes being able to lean in and let your soft moans and whispers fill his ear as he rocks gently against you, soft praises tumbling past his lips as his arms hug you tight against him

He's constantly searching for reassurance and praise, he wants you to tell him that he’s doing great, that he’s making you feel good. And in return he’ll whisper the sweetest nothings in your ear as he eases you through your orgasm.

He absolutely adores the feeling of your arms wrapped around his shoulders and your face burrowed against his neck. He can cum just from feeling your bare legs lock around his waist, and it’s happened numerous times before.

Sanji would never admit it, because it’s a little perverted, and Sanji is definitely NOT perverted, never ever forever, but he also loves missionary because he can feel your breasts squished against his chest. He loves sliding a hand down and caressing and kissing the fat, never pinching or biting, as he wouldn’t want to bruise your pretty skin.

“Are you ready for me, love?” Sanji murmurs, his fingers continuing to pump in and out of your leaking pussy, your first orgasm of the night steadily dribbling over Sanji’s wrist.

You give a small nod, grabbing for your lover’s wrist and intertwining your fingers with his shiny, slick, ones. Sanji ducks his head down, kissing your knuckles and lapping up a mix of your cum and arousal. “Please, Sanji… need you.”

He could cum just from your words alone, but instead he gives a mute nod and leans back on his haunches. Sanji stares down at you with bated breath as he massages your thighs with deft fingers. “God… you’re beautiful. I’m gonna make you feel good… I promise… I promise…”

Grabbing your hip with one hand while the other guides his flushed cock to run along your slit. The cook’s breath trembles just slightly and he has to bow his head, his eyes squeezing shut tightly, “I could never get tired of you… you make me feel things that I’ve never felt before… I need you…”

“Sanji…”

Sanji knows that tone, you’re getting impatient. He gives an apologizing murmur, his face flushed in slight embarrassment as he finally rocks forwards, stopping once he’s half way in, his cock easing you open and stretching you perfectly. “You’re so perfect… I love you… I couldn’t live without your touch… You feel so good… so so good… please.”

You love Sanji with every bone in your body, but during sex, he could get a little preoccupied with praising your body that he nearly forgets he’s inside of you somehow. With a soft laugh, you cup his face with your hands and tug him down to your mouth, your tongue darting out to run along his bottom lip, “Shhh, Sanji. I know. Just feel me, yeah?”

Closing his eyes with a shudder, Sanji melts against your mouth, his chest pressing down against yours as he begins to rock his hips into you with slow, firm, thrusts. “…Sorry… y’ feel good…” He mumbles against your lips, his words muffled as he speaks into your mouth.

You go to respond, but instead, a soft moan is torn from your lips, eliciting a shiver to travel down Sanji’s spine. His mouth begins to wander, as it always does when he’s inside of you, and he trails soft, ghosts of kisses across your jaw and down your neck. “I love you… you complete me… y’ make me… ngh… so, so happy-“

Sanji is never one to be aggressive during sex, he’d obviously comply if you asked him to, but he prefers soft, firm movements as he rocks against your pretty, puffy pussy. He wants to make love to you, make you feel beautiful and wanted.

“Sanji… you feel so good… faster?” You murmur softly, your back arching against his so perfectly as you gasp and coo against his ear.

Sanji very nearly whimpers at your soft question, your voice just too pretty, too sweet, to be asking anything of him. You were an angel, perfection incarnate, and Sanji would be a fool to deny you anything.

“Of course… legs around my waist, love, wanna feel you hold onto me.” Sanji purrs, licking the shell of your ear, eliciting a delectable squeak from your lips. Your ankles easily hook around the curve of Sanji’s spine, your thighs squishing against his hips and causing a weak groan to sound from Sanji’s throat.

You can feel Sanji’s stomach tensing as he moves, sliding his cock out to the tip before snapping his hips forward, making your eyes roll and your back to arch as if offering yourself to the heavens.

The bed creaks beneath your body as your toes curl, your hips rolling to meet Sanji’s movements. “Good?” Sanji murmurs, his stubble tickling and scratching your collarbone as he slides his lips across your shoulder.

“…yeah. It’s good-“ You gasp, twisting beneath Sanji’s hands. Sweat dots at your forehead and you can feel your orgasm approaching, glancing at Sanji, you know he’s not far behind.

Sanji grimaces, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before they quickly dance away to watch himself piston in and out of your wet pussy, he listens to the squelches of your body as it practically begs for him. Sanji shudders at the sound, his shoulders bunching up as he listens to your body.

Everything about you is perfect in Sanji’s eyes. You could gut him like a fish and he would thank you before preparing himself into a dish for you to eat. You hold Sanji’s heart in your hands and he trusts you completely, knowing that you’d never break it.

“Damn it, angel.” Sanji hisses, running his hand down through his hair before catching your lips in a passionate kiss. “Please cum. Please, please. I wanna see you cum, angel. Wanna feel it- feel you.”

God, you can’t believe what Sanji’s words do to you. You bury your face again his neck as your hips buck up against him, searching for your release, “Come on…” You mumble impatiently, your face twisted; your nose scrunched and your brows furrowed.

Sanji leans forward, pressing feather-soft kisses to your furrowed brow and scrunched nose. His hand slides down your navel and lower, rubbing firm circles against your clit. His other arm wraps around your neck, tucking you firmly against his chest as his fingers splay across the back of your head. Sanji’s pace begins to stutter, shuddering breaths escaping his lips.

You writhe so sweetly against him, your heels digging into the small of his back. He watches with rapt attention as your orgasm washes through you, reveling in the feel of your nails digging into his shoulders. Sanji feels as though he’s staring at an angel as your lips part, your lashes fluttering and your throat bobbing.

Sanji very nearly cums inside of you, too enraptured with the sounds and sensations he’s caused you to make. You’re mid orgasm when Sanji suddenly pulls out, his eyes widening and his breath catching in his throat in a panic as he coats your stomach with sticky cum.

Normally Sanji would never cum on you. As much as he absolutely adored the sight, something about it made him feel strange, as if he were defiling a priceless artifact. Usually, he would use a condom, or jerk himself off into his hand… or your panties on special occasions- your hand on really special occasions.

“Shit- sorry, sorry, angel.” Sanji groans, his face going beet red. He pulls back to sit on his haunches as he gnaws on his bottom lip. His eyes are glued to the sight of you covered not only in your own cum, but his as well. It makes his heart pound faster.

You hold a finger up, needing a moment to catch your breath, your thighs twitching from the pleasure. Finally you open your eyes and look up at him with a sweet smile. Catching his embarrassed face, you quickly think of ways to reassure him.

Your lip quirks as an idea comes to mind.

Sliding your index and middle finger across your navel, gathering up Sanji’s mess, your fingers swirling as if painting a canvas. Sanji watches with rapt attention, struggling to keep his eyes from rolling back as you bring your fingers to your lips and slowly lick up his cum.

You let out loud exaggerated coos as you suck on your fingers, your gaze focused on your sweet lover. His eyebrow twitches, and he sniffs, pinching the bridge of his nose with a groan.

“You taste as good as your food, baby.” You hum, your fingers pulling away with a pop.

Ace: Against The Wall

Ace is a straight up show off

He loves to throw his weight around, and casually display his strength as if it were normal

Another thing about Ace is that he’s impatient. He wants what he wants and he’ll take it as soon as possible

That doesn’t change during sex. Ace loves picking you up and throwing you around, his hands exploring your body as he shoves you against a wall. At first it’s simply because he was too lazy and impatient to make his way to a bed, he’d simply drag you into a spare closet or pin you against a door

But he soon realized that he preferred a good old wall instead of a bed. He likes the way you giggle when he hoists you up, your thighs wrapping around his waist (or in some cases his face), he loves the way you cling to him after you cum, too weak to hold yourself up and relying on Ace to keep you from falling

Sometimes Ace likes to pretend his legs give out, he likes the adorable look of panic on your face before Ace quickly snaps his hips up, adjusting your weight and burying himself deeper inside of your walls, gravity helping to sheath himself deeper inside of you

You stopped letting Ace eat you out against the wall after a situation during a storm. A violent wave sent the ship rocking and Ace had gone careening backwards, falling straight on his back… with you still on top of him. It was a horrible experience as the two of you had made your way to the infirmary, Ace happily holding his two missing teeth in his hands as you waddled, a wound on the inside of your thigh that suspiciously looked like a bite mark.

You haven’t seen Ace in weeks. He’s been on some excursion, fighting some bigshot or another. He hasn’t left your mind in the time he’s been gone. You thought of him while cooking, while fighting, damn it all, you even thought of him while cleaning the toilets. Ace is your other half, and it’s like you can physically feel it when he’s apart. When you can’t hear his laugh or feel his touch. It hurts.

But that doesn’t matter anymore because Ace is back.

The ship has been a flurry of activity the whole morning, preparing his welcome back feast. Technically, Ace had arrived back home yesterday in the middle of the night but he’d spent most of his time in the infirmary before passing out from exhaustion. Marco’s the only one who’s seen him. Ace hadn’t bothered to say hi to anyone, too tired to think of anything but sleep.

But now was the time to celebrate the return of the Fire Fist.

You’re rummaging through yet another closet, Marco having asked you to search for tablecloths. But for some reason you can’t seem to find them anywhere.

If you’re being honest, you’d prefer if there wasn’t any sort of party, you’d much rather have a quiet day with Ace, just him and you. But you suppose that’s selfish, the rest of the crew want to see the safe return of their crew mate just as much as you do.

Just as you’re about to give up on what you think is the fifth closet, your eyes catch on a hint of fabric poking out from the bottom shelf.

With an annoyed gruff, you brace your hands on the wall and hoist yourself up, standing on the bottom ledge and praying it doesn’t snap under your weight as you stretch your arm out, your fingers just barely brushing against the cloth.

Just as you manage to hook your finger in a fold, you hear the familiar squeak of the closet swinging shut. A curse escapes your lips as you twist around in an attempt to reach for the door, but in the process, your foot slips and you go tumbling towards the floor.

You yelp, bracing yourself for the pain that’s sure to follow, but it never comes. Instead you feel a pair of arms wrap wrapping around your chest, tugging you backwards away from the shelf. Hold on… those arms… they feel a bit too familiar.

“Clumsy girl.” Ace muses with a chuckle, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek and tightening his hold around you, “Y’miss me?”

Spinning around, a grin already on your face, you meet the familiar eyes of one Portgas D. Ace. His silhouette just barely visible in the dim light of the closet. Adrenaline still pounds at your chest, but it’s mixed with excitement as you wrap your arms around Ace’s neck. “You scared me.” You scoff, a playful pout on your lips as you tug him down for a light kiss.

You’re expecting some banter in return, but instead; Ace lets out a groan as if he hadn’t drunken water in weeks and you are the sweetest of nectar. Suddenly his hands are slipping up your shirt to press against your abdomen, walking you backwards against the shelf as his mouth practically devours yours.

“Jump.” Ace pants softly, hooking his hands beneath your thighs.

Ace is thrusting into you with reckless abandon, the shelves creaking and groaning with your weight as the ledges dig into your back. Mouthing at your throat, Ace coos quietly, “Missed you so, so much, pretty girl. Yeah? You miss me too? You’re sucking me in right now.”

His hands devour your body, his fingertips warm to the touch as he pushes your shirt up around your neck. Ace pulls back for a moment to watch your tits bounce with thrust. His freckles glow faintly as he licks his lips.

Your quiet coos and moans surround Ace, your eyes kept focused on the door as if physically willing any crewmates from walking in on the two of you. You distantly pray that they can’t hear the sound of Ace’s skin slapping against yours.

But Ace is decidedly not trying to be quiet.

If anything, he’s louder than normal. A stupid grin on his face as he lets out low groans and cries of passion as if he’s in some cheap porno. You scowl at him, your stomach flipping as Ace brushes against your g spot. “Quiet!” You hiss, your scowl broken by a sweet gasp as Ace drives his hips up while tugging yours down.

Ace grins madly, throwing his head back and letting out a long, loud moan. “God… I missed you so much…” He cries out, grabbing the shelves and shaking them, objects wobbling and clattering together, “I can’t believe I’ve gone so long without your pretty body… your pretty little pus-“

You grab the back of his neck, a scowl on your face as you tug him into a deep kiss. Ace chuckles against your mouth, your lips finally managing to shut him up for once. You grab his hand, prying his fingers off of the shelf and guiding his palm to cover your breast.

“…missed you.” Ace finally murmurs against your lips, his voice much softer as he rolls your nipple between his fingers, his hand massaging the underside of your tit.

“Shit- Ace… missed y-“ You’re barely able to get your words out before Ace is slapping a palm over your mouth, pausing in his movements and bracing his knee against the shelf to hold you up as he reaches behind him to grab the doorknob. Your brows furrow in confusion, you hadn’t heard anything, but a few moments later you hear the sound of a pair of footsteps making their way down the hall.

Ace grins wildly, holding a finger to his lips. You know that mischievous look on his face. Shaking your head, you glare at Ace, already knowing what he’s planning. He quirks his head, pouting his lip in a false questioning look.

There are voices outside the door, some dumbasses chose this particular hallway to have some stupid conversation while you’re getting fucked balls deep only feet away.

Adjusting his stance, Ace grab your hips and begins to move once again, careful not to let his skin slap against yours. Biting his lip, Ace grins at your annoyance, using his freehand to massage your thigh while the other keeps its hold on the door.

You can feel him pulsing inside of yours, his tip ramming against your g spot with each thrust. It feels good. Too good.

Bringing your hand to your mouth, you bite down, your breath shuddering. Ace guides your head down against his shoulder, pressing featherlight kisses to your ear.

“Come on… good job being quiet, baby.” Ace whispers softly, resting his chin on your shoulder. His words are sweet and smooth, each thrust sending your heart beating out of its cage. “Gonna cum when there’s people right outside? I swear you’ve been gripping me even tighter since they showed up.”

Your hand moves away from your mouth to grip at Ace’s shoulder, your face is pressed firmly to his neck as your thighs begin to tremble from the strain of keeping quiet.

“Ace…” You groan, your words muffled as you grind your hips down against Ace, your clit bumping against his navel with each buck of your hips.

“You know I love your voice, but you gotta keep quiet.” Ace murmurs, “Can you be quiet, or do I gotta stop?”

With a firm shake of your head, your thighs tighten around Ace’s waist. You’re so close, you think you might actually start crying.

It feels like an eternity as you wait for whoever’s outside to leave, Ace continuing his steady thrusts into your wet pussy. He whispers quietly to you, his lips brushing against your ear as his filthy words flood your brain.

But finally, the sound of voices fades and you nearly sob in relief. “Faster.” You snap impatiently, too frustrated to try and be cute.

Throwing his head back, Ace lets out a laugh, “Yeah… yeah I can do that.”

Your brain positively melts as Ace bucks his hips into you with reckless abandon, each roll of his body causing his cock to drive straight against your g spot.

Shuddering moans and cries fill the closet as you writhe in Ace’s arms, squirming as you chase after your orgasm.

“You gonna cum, pretty girl? Yeah… me too.” Ace pants, “So you better make it quick before I accidentally cum inside.”

You click your tongue at his teasing but you can’t deny the excitement at the thought of Ace cumming inside of you. Fucking his seed up into your cunt and putting a pretty baby in your stomach. You know that Ace has… difficulties with the idea of fathers, but you can’t help but think he would be a great one.

Before you know it, you’re thrown into an orgasm, your back arching as you throw your head back. Ace just barely manages to cup the back of your head in time, stopping you from bashing yourself against the shelves and probably giving yourself a concussion.

Your thighs tense and your whimper, pawing at Ace’s chest as you slam your hips down against Ace, chasing after your orgasm.

Ace curses, turning his head to the side at the sight of your pretty face. Your cheeks are puffed out adorably, your lips pursed and your brow furrowed in concentration. Glancing down, his eyes catch on the small flame that had burst on his foot. Ace flushes in embarrassment, stomping it out.

Ace hauls you off of him, holding you up against the wall as he pulls out, your pussy tries to cling to his cock, and it practically breaks Ace’s heart. With a grunt, he cums over his hand, careful not to get any of his mess on your clothes.

“I want…” Ace pants, stooping down to grab his boxers and wipe off his sticky palm, “I want you to go to the bedroom… I’ll meet you in about fifteen minutes, ‘kay?”

He lowers you to the floor, pinching your shaking thighs playfully, “You’ll make it there alright?” He teases, wiping up any evidence of orgasm with his underwear before tugging your pants back on. Ace goes about fixing your clothes, buttoning your shirt, zipping your pants and fixing your mussed hair.

Once he thinks you look presentable enough, he quickly tugs his own pants back on, throwing his boxers to a corner and silently promising to grab them later (he won’t).

Pressing a kiss to your cheek, Ace opens the door and shoves you out with a smack on the ass, “See you soon, sweetheart,” He coos, walking in the opposite direction. He sends you a stupid wink before turning the corner.

Kidd: BACKSHOTS!!!!

BACKSHOTSBACKSHOTSBACKSHOTS FACE DOWN, ASS UP, THATS THE WAY WE LIKE TO FUCK!!!

Guys I may or may not love backshots as much as I love Kidd

Kidd loves every position as long as he’s able to see your body jiggle and move. He especially loves hitting it from the back in any way; doggy, prone bone, face buried in the pillows and your hips wiggling around, throwing your ass back against him like the needy thing you are

He’ll bend you over anything, a desk, a bed, the railing. Hell, if you’re flexible enough, he’ll make you bend down and touch your toes while he plows your shit

One of his favorite things to do is make you grab your ass and present your pussy to him, showing off the way you drip and leak for his fat cock

Kidd uses any jewelry you have to his advantages. Bracelets? He’s forcing your hands above your head while you practically suffocate in his pillows. Anklets? He’s tugging your legs apart until you’re nearly doing the splits as he bullies his dick into your tiny cunt. But his absolute favorite piece of jewelry that you wear are waist beads.

Even if you’re completely and utterly exhausted, too tired to move or even cry anymore. He’ll take control of your waist beads and force you to keep throwing your ass back against him, the fat jiggling and practically begging for him to slap and fondle

Let’s be honest, Kidd’s fucking feral. He licks and bites his way down your spine, leaving a path of red kisses in its path. By the time he’s done with you, you’re absolutely covered in Kidd’s lipstick. Red pigment smeared down your spine and across your face.

~ Metal clatters against the ground as your body is roughly shoved down against the cool metal of Kidd’s work table. Your bikini top has been haphazardly tugged up around your neck, the strings all tangled, showing off your pretty tan lines. Your skin tingles from the temperature as you lift your head to look behind you. Kidd grins wolfishly at your lustful gaze as he toys with the strings of your bikini bottoms.

Kidd isn’t quite sure what’s come over him, he’s seen you in a bikini hundreds of times before. Damn it, he’s seen you naked even more. But the sight of you lounging on the deck of his ship, your skin shiny from tanning had made his heart jump to his throat. You had been sleeping on your stomach, the slope of your spine and the curve of your ass on full display for the crew to see.

He had been working in his workshop when he had caught a glance of you through the window, your tits squished against the floor and your lips pouted slightly in sleep. Kidd hadn’t even realized what he was doing before he was activating his devil fruit powers, latching onto the silver bracelet he’d bought for you last month and tugging. You awoke to your hand being dragged by a seemingly invisible string. You were bleary from sleep but you already knew what was going on.

Your captain was waiting for you.

And that’s how you’d been practically dragged to the workshop, your feet stumbling over steps and nearly sending you crashing into the railing. The crew snickered and whistled at the sight of your hand being dragged by an unseen force. They knew exactly what Kidd wanted.

You’re barely able to get the door to the workshop open before Kidd is grabbing the back of your neck and tugging you into a bruising kiss. His hips rutting against your thigh as he drags you towards his desk, haphazardly sweeping his hand and sending his little ‘projects’ (deadly weapons) flying. Sliding a hand to your shoulder, he slams you down against the table, hoisting your hips up onto the surface so that your toes just barely graze the ground.

“You’re lucky I didn’t go out there and fuck you in front of the whole crew.” Kidd snarls, his hand groping your ass, his touch rough enough to make you flinch as he swats your thigh. Your hips jolt, your body jerking against the table as a sharp keen escapes your lips. “Maybe I should make an announcement, huh? Call everyone in here and make ‘em watch you cream my cock like the slut you are. How’s that sound?”

He chuckles, reaching down to poke and prod your hole through the bikini bottom, pinching your clit and rolling the nub between his fingers, watching the fabric grow damp with your arousal as your feet twitch. You twist around to look at him, your thighs clenching at the sight of your lover; he’s practically drooling at the sight of you laid out across the table. His bottom lip caught between his teeth as he kicks your legs apart, stepping forward and rutting himself against your clothed pussy, earning a gasp from your lips.

“What’s got you all worked up?” You tease, rolling your ass back against Kidd’s raging hard on. Even through his clothing, you can feel that one prominent vein on his cock that never fails to drag you into orgasm. Arching your back, you wiggle your hips in the way that makes Kidd’s eyes roll back as he attempt to hold himself back from fucking you hard and deep right now.

Kidd snarls, his eyes locked onto your ass as if entranced. In one swift movement, he tugs the string of your bikini, the fabric falling to the side to give your captain a wonderful view of your messy cunt and puckered asshole. “Tch. Show me.”

This was Kidd being nice, giving you a few moments to prepare yourself, because there are many things that your captain is, but patient is definitely not one of them. When Kidd had first asked you to expose your weeping hole to him, you had been an embarrassed, blubbering mess. Arguing and telling him that it was weird.

But that was then, and now it was like second nature as you ease a knee onto the table and reach your hand behind you, sliding your pointer and middle finger between your dripping folds and sliding them apart to reveal your pulsing hole to Kidd, arousal steadily dribbling out of your cunt and over your skin. Sliding your digits inside, Kidd watches with rapt attention as you scissor your fingers, preparing your tight pussy for Kidd’s above average cock. More slick drips down your wrist as your ass shakes, your knee jerking and your head dropping down against the table.

With a growl, Kidd unbuttons his pants and you can hear his fat cock slap against his abdomen as he watches your fingers eagerly “Whaddya need, baby?” He croons, his voice sickening sweet as he wraps a hand around your hair and tugs your head back up. Hoisting your back against his chest, Kidd licks up into your mouth, biting your lip and stealing the breath from your lungs. His other hand travels up your navel, across your stomach before grasping the fat of your breast, tugging and twisting. It’s painful, his fingers pinching and flicking your areola as if it were a toy, making you squeak and squirm against him. Yet your hand continues to work at your pussy, it’s better for both of you if your cunt is plenty stretched by the time Kidd enters you. Once Kidd loses his patience, there’s not much that you can do to stop his from entering you.

You try to respond, your chest fluttering as you try and fail to catch your breath. Kidd’s mouth chasing yours every time you try and pull away. “Mph- Kidd… can’t-“

It’s not until you fear that you might actually pass out, black spots dancing in your vision, that Kidd finally pulls away. Lipstick and saliva smeared across his lower face, and most likely yours as well. “I said, whaddya need?”

You pant, tears dotting your lashes as Kidd finally releases his bruising hold on your tit, his hand sliding to your shoulder and shoving you back down against the table. “Fuck… fuck me, Kidd… shit.”

Kidd catches your wrist, stopping your hand from continuing its ministrations against your pussy, before slamming it down by your face, your eyes linger on the sight of your shiny fingers, strings of arousal coating your skin. Without a moments hesitation, Kidd aligns his twitching length with your entrance and bottoms out inside of you. One moment he’s outside of you, and the next he’s balls deep, his tip very nearly kissing your cervix.

A mix between a relieved groan and a chuckle fills your ears as you let out a ragged cry of pleasure, a sharp jolt of pain coursing up your spine before it melts away into a blissful throb. Your back arches and your hips jerk back against Kidd as he massages your ass, his attempt at comfort. Slowly dragging his cock back, the ridges of his vein catches on your ring of muscle and you shudder, a soft coo sounding from your mouth. Kidd pulls back until his tip is just barely lingering inside of you, his gaze focused on the sight of your pussy all stretched out around him, your arousal coating his cock and dripping down his balls.

You shimmy your hips enticingly, whining with need and impatience as you look at him from over your shoulder, “Come on. Hurry up.” You huff, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and pouted lips.

Scowling at your order, Kidd scoffs and rolls his eyes, but the sight of your pretty face makes his heart jump, he secretly loves it when you’re bossy, “Yeah, yeah. You always say that shit and then cry and beg me to slow down a few minutes later. You’re annoying you know that?”

You open your mouth to shoot back an equally sharp retort, but all that comes out is a choked cry as Kidd’s hands move to grip your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh as he hauls your ass back against him, beginning his punishing pace.

Your core aches with each brutal thrust. It’s painful, the pleasure coursing through your body just enough to make it worth it. Or maybe the pain is what making it feel so good? You’re not quite sure that it even matters.

“Fuck, you love it when I treat you like this. You probably couldn’t even cum if I’m not at least a li’l mean, huh?” Kidd teases, his teeth baring as he ducks his head down. Starting at the small of your back, his mouth attaches to your skin, sucking and biting and licking his way up the curve of your spine, leaving a mess of saliva, bruises and lipstick stains in his wake. You taste of sun tan lotion, coconut oil, and sweat. It’s making Kidd’s knees buckle with how good you feel on his tongue.

“You talk… way too much…” You bite out, dropping your head in your arms as your eyes squeeze shut, your head buzzing with pleasure.

“Good thing my teeth are as sharp as my tongue.” Kidd snarls, biting down on your shoulder. His canines dig into your skin as he feasts on your pretty figure. As if to punctuate his point, Kidd thrusts into you, purposefully pressing his tip to your cervix and making you keen in a mix of pain and pleasure.

Stars dance in your vision as you very nearly wail, your body writhing on the table in your attempt to wiggle away. It’s in vain as Kidd grabs your hips and drags you back. “See? I ain’t all talk.”

Kidd snakes a hand around your front, his fingers digging into your abdomen as if searching, “I can feel myself right… here.” Kidd sounds triumphant as he massages the slight bulge. He groans as he presses down, your gummy walls closing in around him as he resumes his thrusts. “Maybe I should put a baby up there one day, how’s that sound, babe?”

You bite your lip, unable to respond anymore for fear that you might let out a sob. Tears dot your lash line, your face splotchy and your breath shuddering. Each rock of Kidd’s hips send electricity up your spine. “I-“

Kidd cocks his head, leaning forward to peer at your face. He grins rakishly, wrestling you into a chokehold and brushing your hair past your ear. He presses a kiss to your cheek, “Are you gonna cry? Go ahead, you know I don’t mind.” Kidd grunts, snapping his hips. He’s close, both of you can tell, he’s struggling to keep his rhythm, his hips stuttering every few moments.

“‘m not… gonna cry.” You choke out, the metal beneath the two of you has grown slick with sweat and condensation. Each time Kidd thrusts his cock into you, there’s a squeak as your skin rubs against the table. You can’t help but giggle at the stupid sound, your cheek pressed against Kidd’s bicep as your eyes roll back.

“God, you’re so sweaty. What’s your problem?” Kidd gruffs, but you can hear the hint of endearment in his voice. “Just cum already, yeah?”

You turn your head, your tongue lolling out in search for Kidd’s mouth. Grinning at your fucked out expression, Kidd eagerly accepts your tongue into his mouth.

You bite down on Kidd’s lip as your orgasm washes over you like a wave. Your entire body jerking and twitching as your hips chase after Kidd’s cock, sucking him in deeper and deeper.

Kidd watches with bated breath as tears slip down your cheeks, your cries and moans quickly swallowed by his eager mouth. He continues to thrust impatiently into your creamy pussy, dragging you through your orgasm while chasing after his own.

Your cum creates a foamy ring around the base of Kidd’s cock. His face burning, Kidd allows you to kiss him one final time before he pulls back, blood coating his bottom lip from how hard your teeth had dug in.

You feel empty as Kidd finally drags his dick out of your cunt, your hole pulsing with his absence. Kidd grunts in annoyance as he jerks himself off, his bicep flexing around your throat as his own orgasm washes through him, his cum painting your back.

“I’m gonna cum in your pretty pussy one day, and it’s gonna be the best day of our fucking lives, I promise.” Kidd grunts, releasing his hold on you and running a hand through his hair. He steps back from between your legs, admiring the view of your body on display for him to see.

The lipstick marks on your back are partially covered by his cum, oil and sweat still lingering on your skin as bruises form on your ass. Your thighs tremble, your fluids coating your folds and dripping down onto the table.

You wake up in Kidd’s arms, your body aching as you lounge across his lap, your nose nestled against his neck. He’s toying absentmindedly, one hand tinkering with a small trinket (bomb), while the other massages your thigh.

Your body feels as though it’s been through the wringer, your thighs aching and your core throbbing. There are bruises on your hips from the table repeatedly digging into your skin.

“Hi.” Kidd grunts, barely soaring you a glance.

“…Hi.” You croak, clearing your throat as you sit up to peer at Kidd’s little invention. You smooth a hand through your hair, groaning as your hands run down your face.

“I told you you’d cry.”

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bunnigumi · 9 months ago

Text

─ MESSY PUPPY

ASK HIM and he'll tell you, Megumi has always been more of a dog person. His favorite breed? You, of course.

cw. megumi x reader , implied/indirect petplay , finger sucking , blowjobs

The first time Megumi realized he had a small thing for petplay was when the two of you were lying together in bed. He was reading some book while you lied there idly next to him, phone thrown somewhere on the bed. There was never a cure to your boredom, it seemed.

He remembers vividly how you stretched your arms above your head, letting out a satisfied noise. Back slightly arched and stomach exposed like a dog showing its submission. It's been engrained into his mind and Megumi hasn't been the same ever since.

He is far too embarrased by the fact that he wants to see you in cute puppy ears and a little tail. It's one of his secrets that will never see the light of day, but he tries to subtly feed into his fantasy.

For instance, he likes to make you taste yourself after he fingerfucks you 'till you're a sobbing, overstimulated mess. Soft lips around his fingers as you gently suck on them—glossy with a mix of spit and arousal. If you had a tail, he thinks as he watches you lap up at your juices so obediently, it'd be wagging with content.

Then, he'd have you go down on him to see you struggle to take him all the way in. Drooling like a dog on your knees, hands grabbing at his thighs with saliva collecting at the base of his cock. Its just that hes so big it's hard for you to fit him in your mouth...

He'll stroke your hair and spill his praises when you finally manage to go all the way down, tip kissing the back of your throat, you'd looking up at him with those big, watery eyes. That look in them that always asks, am I doing good? followed with little, whiny noises akin to that of a puppy when you start to suck him off.

Megumi really hates himself for it, but he's in too deep—how can he possibly resist when you're so adorable, all obedient and messy, like a little puppy!! This is the closest he can get without outing his dirty little secret. Please believe him when he says that he just cant help it!

He wants to be your owner and take care of you forever and ever... all you have to do is be your pretty little self. Megumi will spoil you with all the headpats and belly rubs in the world. ( ´ ▽ ` )

#jjk megumi #megumi smut #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jujutsu megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro smut

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scoobysnakz · 2 years ago

Text

Older

||* Maybe it's because he's safe and keeps you warm in times or need. Or maybe it's because he has those unruly salt and pepper hair and worry lines. Either way, you want him and maybe he wants you.

Maybe you don't know, or maybe you don't care. But he can smell you, the rush of dopamine when he turns his back and you can see his trapezius shining deliciously in his dimly lit room.

pt2

||* dilf!miguel, vaginal fingering, praise kink, eye contact, perv!miguel, college-age reader, lap sitting, slight hair pulling, one shot, Daddy issues, Dom/sub, smut written by a virgin, not proof read

You're young. And oblivious. So painfully oblivious.

At first, Miguel had just assumed it was a defence mechanism. Don’t give them a reaction and they’ll leave you alone. But the more you smile at the guys flirting with you, the more you lean into their non-platonic hugs, the more certain he becomes that you’re just unaware.

And- in all honesty- he's jealous. He doesn't want to feel the shame that weighs down on his shoulders each time your expression softens at his praise. He doesn't want to feel guilt for watching your hips sway as you walk away. He doesn't want to be like them but he craves the audacity to leer at you in broad daylight.

Maybe it's his morals or maybe it's because he's a coward.

Either way, you’re young and oblivious. And deep down, he loves it.

It's worse in HQ, these men are meant to have morals, good morals, and yet they treat you like a fuckdoll to the eyes.

Your perfect, untouched, college body just for them to perv at.

And Miguel hates it. He hates how he has to ignore your pretty eyes staring up at him as he talks, how he has to scold every Spiderman for being a pervert, and he hates how he's just as bad.

Maybe if you weren't so bubbly sweet he wouldn't have to spend each night palming himself to the thought of your perky body, every shower spurting his hot cum on the misty glass and every moment alone with his office with the doors locked and hand muffling his moans.

“Migs?” that nickname, that only you can use, that only you dared to think of.

He turns to face you, a lazy smile drawn across his painfully perfect lips. “Princessa?” And you immediately try to hide the blush that threatens to bloom on your cheeks.

You hold out your hands, a tray holding a ‘spidey spectacular’ on top. In reality, it's nothing spectacular- a beef burger with barbecue sauce, large fries and a medium drink.

“Got you some lunch,” you grin.

He hops down from his podium, cringing at how your body tenses at the loud thud. “Why?” his tone is harsh, cold, forced.

He knows why. You care, you check in on him when no one else does, you randomly ask him if he's drinking more water than coffee that day, if he actually went to sleep the night previous- unknowing to the thoughts of you that kept him up.

“You haven't eaten today,” you stick your arms out, a playful smile on your face and he doesn't ask how you know. You just do, “and you can't capture those nettlesome anomalies on an empty stomach!”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Nettlesome?”

You laugh, a soft one that makes his core ache with need. “My literature professor has permanently engrained fancy words into my brain.” your shocking professor. Probably some perv who keeps you behind to help you with your tests and oggles at your perfectly shaped ass when you bend over to pick up a pen.

And a painful reminder that as mature as you may be, you’re still young. 18 years too young.

He takes the burger from the tray, gaze lingering on the second as he tries to decide if it's for him or not.

“I’m eating with you,” you answer his question without him asking.

“No, princessa.”

You huff at him, soft, rounded lips falling into a pout. It's a habit you've made- bringing him lunch and sitting with him to make sure he's actually eating the food you've bought no matter how hard he protests.

“Fine. I won't eat with you, I'll just sit and stare and probably piss you off,” you smile smugly at him.

“Whatever,” he grumbles, turning away from you and throwing the paper from the burger in the bin.

You hum in response, not even caring for his grouchy attitude because it doesn't bother you. Because you're young, and you don't understand how men work yet.

He pulls himself up to his podium, glowing red webs dangling from the large metal disk where you soon follow.

Maybe you don't know, or maybe you don't care. But he can smell you, the rush of dopamine when he turns his back and you can see his trapezius shining deliciously in his dimly lit room.

You pull yourself close to him, hand resting just between his thigh and yours. So soft and delicate and he wants to ruin the innocence within them. Wants to see your dainty fingers wrapped around his cock, wants to see how you use those digits inside of yourself while- hopefully- thinking of him.

“How’s school?” he feels like an awkward uncle at an even more awkward Christmas party. Is this what it's come to? Him having to ask about your college life because that's your main focus because you’re young… er.

A small scoff escapes you, and you immediately cover up with a cough.

“I’m not seven,” you tease, hand held out to shove him but you immediately withdraw it which makes him frown.

“You look it.” it's your turn to frown.

You blink up at him, wondering if he knows how you crave these sweet moments between the two of you. You hate how dependent you've become on him, how you can't get through the day without thinking of him and using his health as an excuse to come see him.

“You’re an ass,” you fold your arms across your chest, nose scrunching in feigned irritation.

Miguel clicks his tongue at you, head cocking to the side in disapproval. “Language, princessa.”

You mutter a feeble “sorry”, a forced waver to your voice that makes him chuckle lightly.

You turn your head to face him, his dark, almost curls illuminated by the neon orange of his numerous monitors. His eyes meet yours, deep maroon paralysing you in place, peeking fangs slowing your breathing, chiselled features pinking your cheeks.

And you smile. A sickly sweet, beautifully innocent smile. Any other person would look away, grow red with shame, and maybe say something embarrassing. But you? You just smile.

Because you're painfully naive.

“Really?” you turn your head to face him, neck craned back so he gets a perfect view of your soft skin. “Do I look seven?”

Of course, you don't look seven. You look twenty, which you are. But you're mature and not in a creepy way. No one else would think twice about seeing if he's okay, and no adult would have their panties organised by colour like you do either.

The sound of his chewing eventually fills the bleak room. You can see him looking straight ahead through your peripheral.

“No.”

“A man of few words,” you grin.

“A girl of far too many.”

You aren't a girl. You’re a woman. You don't spend time chasing boys, you enjoy literature, and you have your whole life planned out. Kids don't do the things you do. Kids don't want a life with a decent man, with him.

“School’s boring,” you cut through the silence, voice soft, quiet, shy.

Relief washes over him like the first rainfall in the Sahara. He swallows- quickly, and brings his attention back to you- not that it ever really left you.

“It shouldn't be, you're smart, princessa, and if your professors are doing their job you should be engaged with their subjects,” he hates that he sounds so parental and demanding when he speaks to you but it's like a default setting. He expects the best from you because he knows you can achieve it.

You scoff and this time you don't bother hiding it at all. “Thanks,” you mutter dryly, “I’ll keep being smart and then school will be more exciting.”

He grimaces at your dull tone. He's used to your sparkly side, the smiles and the giggles and now you're acting your age, all attitude and sarcasm.

“That’s not what I meant,” he groans, his voice harsher than before.

“What did you mean then, Miguel?” you press on.

“I meant that you're smart enough to entertain yourself, unlike other people.”

And in its own strange way, his ‘complisult’ makes you smile. He sees who you are, that you aren't some immature child.

It feels nice not being viewed as a child for once. A slow, steady warmth travels through you. He's being nice to you, not a rare occurrence but uncommon enough to mean something.

Slowly, you edge your hand closer to his, fingers gently nudging against his own. You pause for a moment, knowing you’re pushing it and waiting for his reaction but when he doesn't pull away you give his hand a squeeze.

“Thanks,” your gentle voice making his cock harden beneath his suit, “in its own way, that was sweet.”

And you grin at him again. Soft lips beaming up at his plain expression as he tries not to think about how badly he needs some relief.

Against his better judgment, he squeezes your hand back. And the soft, nervous, almost squeak that escapes you makes it all worthwhile.

“It’s true. When I went to your universe,” not to jack off while you shower, “I saw your study notes. You work hard, princessa, and it's good, admirable,” hot.

All your life you be craved words so sweet. Someone to tell you that all those years of dedication to being the best and coming second is too, better than good. Someone to tell you that when they saw your study notes they didn't see you as dumb you have to revise but studious enough to want the best.

You don't even think twice about him being in your universe, just putting it down to an anomaly or another perfectly innocent reason.

He can smell it again, that dopamine rush. You pull yourself closer to him, taunting him unknowingly and let your head rest on his shoulder.

You do this often, allow yourself to lean against him, intertwine your fingers with his, plant endearing kisses to his stubbly cheeks when he helps you out. And you do it so secretly that it's almost sexual but the innocence you perform these acts with makes it feel painfully platonic.

All he can do is ride out this moment of pure torment. Cock stiff and thighs burning.

Deep down he knows he shouldn't be like this, savouring your innocence that he can so easily capture on cameras he can use later. You're so pure, sacred almost, that it feels wrong to even have his arms wrapped around your waist.

“Migs?” that nickname that only you get to use because if he gets to call you princessa its only fair.

Your hand slips off of his and moves to rest on his thigh. “Migs?” you say a little louder this time. He hums dully.

“Princessa?”

Sometimes you wonder if he knows how wet his voice makes you. The low rumble that passes through his chest, the silky smooth movements of his lips, the slight tinge of an accent that makes your cunt flutter.

You let your thumb travel over the ridges of his fingers, smooth over the peaks of his knuckles.

His hand is so big compared to yours, something that the two of you haven't ignored.

He wonders how the rest of you feels, past the tight lycra of your suit as it covers your wrists, against the fresh cotton of his bedsheets, flush against his chest.

The dull humming of the monitors accompanied by your heavy breathing and the subtle whirring of the random machinery warms up the silence between the two of you.

You shift yourself to face him, pretty lips pursed and brow furrowed.

Maybe it's because he's so safe right now. Or maybe it's because you failed your paper and his praise is all you need. But he looks painfully handsome.

Broad shoulders rising and falling with every breath. Soft lips parted in hunger. The sea of deep sepias and carmines that is his eyes.

Miguel has always been there for you. Well, maybe not always, but often enough. Your roommates being assholes? You can sleep at HQ. Suit ripped? He’ll make you a new one.

And in this moment, you can't see past that. He may be older, grey strands peppering his umber locks and worry lines framing his features, but that doesn't matter.

So you lean up close to him, faces inches apart. Just to smell him, just to see him, just to be near him, just to feel him.

He flinches at first, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed. His gaze runs up and down your figure, trying to figure out what you're doing, your innocent expression leaving far too much up for interpretation.

For a moment the two of you just stare at each other, arousal burning white-hot in your core and bodies thrumming with desire.

A calloused hand moves to cup your cheek and pull you closer. Miguel lets out a low sigh, hot breath tickling your face and making your nose scrunch in a way that can only be described as perfect.

Your breathing slows and your heart hammers. He's so close, soft lips just within reach.

“Can I?” his voice is almost a croak, a desperate plea.

He can't tear his eyes away from your quivering lips. He wants to feel them against his own, taste you, have your mouth in his possession.

You don't get time to finish your feeble “please” before he's pressing his lips against yours.

It's soft at first, the two of you gradually warming to the sensation of each other. But when you let out a soft sigh something inside him switches. All morals and guilt go completely out the window and his senses are filled with you.

His tongue probes hungrily at your lips, seeking access to the warmth of your mouth and you happily agree. His hands slide down to your hips, fingertips pressing into the soft flesh crudely hidden beneath your suit.

“Need you,” you groan, hands gripping his chest with desperation. He silences you with another kiss, tongue immediately attacking yours, too impolite, too hard, too impatient to wait for your sanction.

He's blinded by lust, a desire that's been building up inside him for too long. His arm snakes to the small of your back, protruding talons catching on the material of your suit. He pulls you into his lap and you nearly gasp at the sensation of his erection brushing against your clothed cunt.

You lean back slightly so you can look at him, chest rising and falling with each pant. “Say something,” you pout, his mutism making your head swarm with confusion, “let me hear your voice.”

The neediness of your tone makes him smile, a boyish, cheeky one that makes your stomach flutter.

“What do you want me to say?” he questions, fingers tracing up and down the bridge of your spine.

“Just… talk me through it,” you pause, cunt fluttering and thighs tensing, “it’s my first time,” you admit quietly. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment. It's something you've never admitted, viewing virginity as a burden more than the blessing men do.

“Who said I'm gonna fuck you?”

Oh.

You purse your lips, your smile faltering and skin prickling with embarrassment as you fidget on his lap. His cock strains against his suit, hips threatening to buck up when you unintentionally grind against him.

You look down and a smirk forms on your face. You press the heel of your palm against his erection, eyes widening with arousal at the whine that escapes him. “This did.”

You swear that for a moment you can see a glint of red in his eyes, much darker, meaner, than his usual cool mahogany.

“Don't,” he grunts, hand gripping your wrist.

The excited grin on your face brings him back. He can't do this to you. He can't take your innocence, be the one to steal what makes you so pure. He's done things he's ashamed of, killed, lied, hated. He isn't deserving of the sweet bliss that’s you.

Your lips fall into a disappointed pout. Have you done something wrong? Maybe you’ve been too eager?

“I… I'm sorry?” you pose your apology as a question, unsure of what's actually going on. You’re inexperienced but this… this isn't normal.

“No, mierda, no, princesa,” and his hands back on your cheek, thumb tracing over the curve of your vermillion. “No digas lo siento.” your brow furrows in confusion but he doesn't elaborate.

He wants to ruin you, corrupt your pretty pussy with his hot cum and watch it seep out in think dribbles before he can stuff it back in with his fingers. But he can't.

That sweet innocence in your eyes, lashes fluttering with arousal from a simple kiss. He can't do this to you.

“Look at me,” he commands and on instinct, your eyes meet his.

“Good Girl,” he croons.

“I'm confused, Migs,” you push his hand off your cheek softly, head cocked to the side, “you’re confusing me.”

He brings a hand to your cunt and he cups it, the heel of his palm digging into your cunt. “Let me do this instead, hmm?” you nod in agreement, head too fuzzy with the strange mixture of arousal and bewilderment to even process the jolt of pleasure that shot down your spine.

The sound of ripping draws your attention down to your arousal-slick folds but he clicks his tongue. “Eyes on me, chica,” his tone is slightly harsher now but his eyes are still warm.

You don't know what he's doing. If he's coming or going. If he's teasing you or allowing this to go further.

“Mi-” he presses his index finger to your lips, not that he needed more than his intense gaze to silence you.

“You said this is your first time?” you nod again.

“No one else has touched you?” his fingers part the tear in your suit, your damp panties on show for him.

“No one.”

His thumb starts to slowly circle your cotton-clothed clit eliciting a soft gasp from you.

“Do you want me to touch you, princessa?”

Your fingers dig into the muscle of his thighs but he doesn't flinch. A sharp talon nips at your weeping bud and you nearly cry. It sends a jolt of pain fused with sickly sweet pleasure coursing through your veins. “Asked you a question didn't I?”

You nod your head again, not knowing how to answer.

“Use your words.”

Your cunt is dribbling its juices all down your thighs- and he can smell it. His mouth is practically drooling at the scent it your arousal. He's trying so hard not to rip your suit all the way and split you open with his cock. But you're gentle, soft, sweet, delicate. So he has to be as well.

Taking a shaky, deep breath, you nod your head again, “I want you to touch me, Miguel.”

“Muy bein, princessa,” his thumb slips under the waistband of your panties and comes to rest on your clit but he doesn't stimulate you. Just leaves it resting on the hardened nub.

You whine at the lack of friction, hips trying to grind against his hand but his free hand holds you down.

“Migs, please,” you know you sound pathetically needy but you don't care. The man you've been lusting after since he first recruited you has his hand in your pants.

“Then keep looking at me,” he instructs, “wanna see your pretty face. Can you do that for me?” he grins at the twitching in your cunt caused by his words. That's all the confirmation he needs.

His thumb begins its slow pattern around the hood of your clit while his other hand rests on your waist, keeping you planted firmly on his lap. And maybe so you can feel how big he is.

His hands are surprisingly gentle. You've seen him kill before, seen the plethora of blood he can draw from someone with one fell swoop. Yet he's always been so careful with you, right now being no exception. Maybe that's what’s drawn you to him, the idea of him viewing you as something so sacred that he can't bring himself to damage your fragile body.

The tedious speed he's using is purposefully slow. He wants to draw this out for as long as possible, keep you a squirming mess on his lap, your sweet nectar running down to his thighs. But you want more; you’re too shy to ask for it but you want it.

You press your lips to his again, tongue slipping into his mouth almost sloppily. He's taken aback at first by your sudden burst of confidence but he doesn't protest. The hand that was resting in your hip moves to the back of your head to press you deeper into the kiss.

You whine hungrily and he rewards you with a faster pace. Your thighs clench around him, not actually expecting your plan to work. Your eyes flutter for a moment but he grips your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him.

“Princessa, I'll stop,” his warning is heed enough.

Your mind’s a foggy blur of arousal and pure bliss. He keeps toying with your clit, slowing down when your gaze falters but speeding up and rewarding you if you've kept eye contact.

“Please, I'll be good, so good for you,” you mewl, craving his kind words of praise again.

“Will you? Will you let me see those pretty lips of yours smile so sweetly for me while I make you feel good?” you nod your head excessively, mumbled “yes I will”’s and “good for you”’s spilling from your lips.

The hot coil of pleasure tightens with each flick of his distal. More and more sweet moans spew from your loose hanging mouth which are just music to his ears. Your leaky hole clenches around nothingness but you're too shy to ask for more. Miguel’s thumb is good enough but what you really crave is that hard cock that's pushing up against your stomach.

Soft, sticky clicking sounds mellow in the warmth of the rooms atmosphere, arousal blending in smoothly along with the scent of your nearing climax. He can sense it, your hips stuttering and your nails digging into the meat of his chest. But he can't let you go just yet.

“Hold it for me,” its a command, not a request.

You bite your lower lip, eyes nearly watering as you try you hardest to hold back. Your poor cunt throne needily while it continues to pump hot juices all over his hand. “I-I don't know how,” you blubber, thighs trembling and hands twitching.

Your body runs white hot with pleasure while your mind teeters on the edge of climax.

“I know you can, be a good girl, princessa,” he pressed earnestly, two-toned lips falling into that signature smirk.

You let your head come to rest in the crook of his neck. He flinches at the warmth of your breath and grabs the back of your hair roughly. You whine at the sharp tug but don't protest further.

“Fuck did I tell you ‘bout looking away?” his voice is almost harsh but you don't care. Your whole body is tingling with so much euphoria, blood pumping hot with pleasure, that you don't even care about his talon catching on your clit.

You’re so close to cumming, to reaching that paradise he's dangling in front of you like a carrot on a stick. “Let me, I-i can't, Migs.”

He frowns.

Once you're done that's it. He has to let you go, push off his lap and keep you at arm's length. But he can't bring himself to do that, get rid of your warmth and tiny frame.

“Migs? Please, let me…” you cut yourself with a silent moan.

Your mouth falls slack, eyes widening for a moment before fluttering closed. Warmth washes over you, trickling down your spine like honey from a jar. And for a moment you think you've gone deaf because Miguel’s lips are moving but you can't figure out what he's saying.

Your arousal spills from your cunt and all the way down his hands in a warm, blanketing trinket of your pleasure.

He clicks his tongue in disappointment but lets you ride out your high with his thumb remaining on your pussy.

“Fuck,” you breathe, voice cracking in a way that only makes his cock harden.

“Mmmm, did my princessa enjoy herself?” you look up at him, eyes glazed over with lust.

Your orgasm took enough energy for you to be exhausted now. You can barely lift your head let alone reply to him. When you try to smile your eyes just roll back slightly, your lashes fluttering and your nose scrunching.

You’ve come before, plenty of times, but this feels different. This time it feels all warm and gooey like it's going to stick to you forever. Maybe it's because it's Miguel’s fingers instead of your own toying with your cunt or maybe it's because you got to hold onto him. Either way, you've just cum all over his hands and can't form a proper sentence now.

Miguel smiles down at you, revelling in your blissed-out expression. Knowing that he's drawn this pleasure from you makes his insides churn.

“Pretty Girl,” he coos, hand smoothing your spine, “so pretty for me, hmm? Cumming just from me playing with her pretty pussy.” as if to prove a point, he spreads your sticky folds open with his thumb two middle fingers, a soft gooey sound catching your attention.

“Wonder if your cunt is just as pretty?” be slides a harsh finger inside with a grunt, eliciting a sharp gasp from you, “want me to fuck your tight hole, princessa?”

And you nod. Too fucked out, too tired, too needy, too in love with him without either of you knowing it yet, to push him away.

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel x you #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099 #fluff #miguel fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut

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angellic4l · 6 months ago

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la vita è bella - s.r

in which; sunshine!bau!reader and season2!spencer see a foreign film together after work.

content: fem!reader and season2!spencer, they’re so in loveee, fluffy fluff, mentions of drinking but no one actually does it, brief mention of spencer’s germaphobia, mention of the holocaust and ww2.

a/n: i wrote this all in one go bc my draft that i’m working on is so not ready, so i apologise if it’s bad. also, la vita é bella means life is beautiful, the Italian name of the film, which is why i called the fic that. WAIT I JUST READ IT AND I NEED TO SAY I DON’T THINK ELLE IS MEAN I LOVE ELLE! anyway, kisses!!

After a pretty rare, uneventful day at the BAU - just hours of paperwork, filing, reports, and a lot of team banter - the team of profilers begin to pack up. Coats are lifted from the backs of chairs, bags slung over shoulders, chairs put under desks, and a chorus of contented sighs coming from the agents.

The team, bar Hotch and Gideon, begin to make their way to the elevator together, walking in a huddle on their way out of work while making light conversation about their plans, considering everyone’s getting out early today.

“I say we all go the bar, a few drinks, maybe some darts, and lots of fine women,” Morgan suggests with a smirk, patting Spencer on the back when he says ‘fine women’.

Elle and JJ laugh, the thought of Spencer trying to talk to ‘fine women’, as Morgan called them, an amusing thought to the two of them.

Spencer, who’s walking in between you and Morgan, pushes his glasses up his nose with his index finger, his face sporting one of his infamous looks you’ve come to know, his brows furrowed as he silently questions Elle and JJ’s laughter.

“Actually, I was going to go and see a foreign film downtown, if any of you want to come. It’s an Italian film, but I can whisper translate, called ‘Life is Beautiful’, which is kind of ironic because it’s about a Jewish man and his son becoming victims of the holocaust, but-“ Spencer’s cut off by a comment from Elle about him being ‘dorky’, his face loses the small smile he’d had while talking about the film, and his once gesturing hands fall to his sides.

You think your heart might’ve actually shattered at the sight, Spencer’s dejected look never becoming easier to see, no matter how many times you do see it. The other three agents agree to go to the bar together while you and Spencer remain silent, walking in step with each other.

“You coming, sunshine?” Morgan asks, looking past Spencer to gaze at your face, Elle and JJ turning their heads slightly to look at you stood behind them, all of you coming to a stop at the elevator doors.

“No, I think I just want to have a quiet night in. I hope you guys have fun, though,” you reject them, a small smile on your face because only you know what you’re actually going to do.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

All of you step out of the FBI building, JJ, Morgan, and Elle splitting off to head to the bar, Spencer walking through the parking lot and starting his journey to the metro station, while you wait for the other 3 to be gone.

It’s not because you’re embarrassed of Spencer, no, you wouldn’t have cared about offering in front of the others, but you knew he’d probably be teased for it, and that’s the last thing you want. He’s so sweet to everyone, unbelievably kind to you, but everyone teases him regardless. It hurts your heart every time he goes quiet after being told to ‘shut up’ or someone comments on his rambling.

Once you’re sure Morgan, JJ, nor Elle are in earshot, you hurry over to Spencer’s slender figure that’s slowly dissipating, emerging with the dark night sky, becoming nothing but a shadow as he gets further.

“Spence! Wait, come back!” You call out, quickly realising his long limbs are no match for you and he was getting further by the second.

Spencer stops almost immediately, spinning on his heels when he hears your voice. He could recognise it anywhere, your sweet, melodic voice engrained into his brain; it’s one of his favourite things about you, how each word you speak seems to be infused with honey, ringing out sweet and soft.

Although, even if your voice is sweet and soft, despite the fact that you’re shouting, adrenaline spikes in his body - Why are you shouting him? Are you hurt? Are you okay? - the questions plague his mind, increasing his heart rate faster than anything ever has before. That’s saying something, considering he sees dead bodies, crime scenes, and confronts serial killers almost weekly.

Spencer’s legs have carried himself over to you before he’d even processed it, his own mind had distracted him, thoughts had clouded his head, and he only realises he’s stood in front of you and that you’re okay when he hears your melodic voice again.

“Spence? Spencer? Are you okay?” You ask, brows furrowed ever so slightly and pink lips pouted to express your concern for the brunette boy.

You didn’t ask him to ‘snap out of it’, make a joke about him being stuck in his big brain, or say ‘are you even listening?’. No, you just asked if he was okay. Spencer smiles softly at that, another gentle reminder that you really are an angel personified, despite his agnostic beliefs, regardless of whether he prays to a God or not, you are angelic to him.

“Yeah, yes, I’m okay,” Spencer reassures you, the soft smile on his face still there as he looks down at you. His brain catches up after he stops being dazed by your seemingly divine presence, in his opinion.

“You called me over, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s okay. Could I come and see that movie with you? I know some Italian and you said you’d whisper translate.”

Standing in the middle of Quantico’s parking lot, the pair of you clad in thick coats due to the recent spike in cold weather, your head tilted back so that you can look up at Spencer and his tilted down so that he can see you. You watch Spencer’s face go from a small smile to a full blown grin, his teeth peaking out from behind his pink lips making your heart warm in your chest, winter weather aside.

“Yeah? You’re serious?” Spencer asks, you nod.

“I’ll drive us there, no need for the metro. I’ll take you home, too,” you say, dangling your keys on your ring finger. The pair of you begin to walk to your car as Spencer explains what the movie is about, not being cut off this time.

In the car on the way there, he starts to talk about WW2, rattling off all of the details he knows about it, mainly ones he thinks will be relevant for context to the film. Smiles rest on both of your faces as he does so, his hands moving frenetically as he talks. When you know what he’s talking about, you’ll wait for him to finish before talking yourself, but mostly, you just listen to him.

Spencer stays true to his word and whisper translates the film to you, his voice in your ear something you like much more than you probably should, close proximity between the two of you because of it. His head is tilted towards you, lips by your ear but not so close that all you hear is his breath, Spencer’s very mindful of that.

At some point, you both reach for the popcorn between you without looking, his hand coming to rest on top of yours in the bucket. Suddenly, you’re very thankful for the dark room hiding the pink tint of your cheeks, completely unaware that he’s thinking the same thing.

Retracting his hand from the bucket quickly, he whispers a small “sorry,” secretly hating the loss of contact with your smooth, silky skin, warm fingers, no longer under his.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, eyes never leaving the screen in front of you for fear of him seeing the blush that’s painted your cheeks. You reach into your bag and hand him a hand sanitiser, knowing how he is with germs.

Spencer can’t help but wonder if you carry this just for him as he takes the clear bottle from his hands, reading the label as best as he can in the dim theatre and learning the hand sanitiser smells like vanilla. So do you, he notes, and he decides he doesn’t mind his hands smelling like you, in fact, he actually quite likes it.

An hour into the film, despite your best efforts not to, you succumb to sleep, the sound of Spencer’s voice in your ear every few seconds, the dim room, and how warm you are all lulling you into the unconscious state you currently find yourself in. Well, Spencer finds you in that state when your head drops to his shoulder, looking down at you through his glasses, and realising you’d fallen asleep.

He blushes at the sight of your head on his shoulder, the weight of it grounding him and sending him to some extreme height at the same time, your hair splayed over his shoulder making him smile to himself. In this moment, he decides that, despite all of the horrors he sees daily, the trauma he was subjected to growing up, and everything else in between, life is beautiful.

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remlionheart · 7 months ago

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up against the wall

୨ৎ MDNI. this is the first fic i've really posted that's come with a caution sign, but dark content ahead, you have been warned ♡ this was originally an oc x dazai but i converted into dazai x fem!reader for all of you who wanted to read it ♡ a bit yandere on both dazai and reader's part. full submission. degradation and praise. gunplay. dom!dazai ((fucking yum)). lemme know whatcha think, luv you ♡୨ৎ

take me, take me back to your bed i love you so much that it hurts my head. say I don't mind you under my skin i'll let the bad parts in, the bad parts in... ─★ now playing: degausser

You had always known what and who Osamu Dazai was. The parts of him that he’d given you and the parts of him that he tried to hide– they were both engrained into your mind. Clawed and carved into your heart no matter how much he attempted to conceal off pieces of himself that he didn’t want you to have access to.

He'd learned pretty early on in your relationship that there was no such thing as avoiding you, not just because of your Mind Glimpse, but because of who you were as a person. The sheer lengths that you'd go just to get to him were hopeless and absolutely devoid of all logic.

At 16, you'd tattooed his initial on your forearm when Mori tried to put an end to your relationship. Nearly killed yourself a couple of years later when you somehow managed to teleport all the way from Port Mafia to his apartment, collapsing in his living room from overusing your ability all because he wouldn't answer your calls. There was no obstacle or barrier strong enough to stop you from gravitating towards him the way you did and the worst part was, Osamu... liked your earth-shattering devotion to him.

He'd never experienced love before and he'd certainly never experienced… whatever it was between the two of you before either, but there was something about your raw and unapologetic honesty that captivated him. He’d spent so much of his life being conditioned to lie and manipulate to get others to bend to his will and yet, you... would happily break yourself for him just because.

You'd do anything, really. Any request, no matter the cost. Any command, no matter the risk. Any hoop, no matter the height– you'd always find a way, finishing the task with with wide eyes and a smile. “Like that? Was that good?” You might as well have been a puppy with how you obeyed him so thoroughly. It was equal parts amusing and… something else entirely. Something that Dazai wasn't quite ready to face.

The nickname “little ghost” that he'd gifted you expanded well beyond your ability to vanish, it rang true in all aspects of your relationship. You were his shadow. His mirror. Your curiosity just as relentless and unwavering as his own. Your determination and shamelessness just as dangerous when it came to getting the things you wanted and he was always the thing you wanted most.

You saw him, even when he didn’t think you did. Not just the flippant exterior that he presented to the outside world. Not the hollow cut-out version of himself that he used to blend into crowds. No, you saw him– the full scope of who he was and who he pretended not to be, and you still clung onto him like your life depended on it. Craved him. Haunted him. Trusted him. And worst of all, loved him. Really, sincerely, desperately loved him.

In your first year at Port Mafia, Dazai had written you off as entertainment. A fun, fragile little toy that he could pick up and dissect whenever he got bored and he got bored a lot. But you were happy to oblige, often catching him off guard with how excitedly you would offer parts of yourself up to him without him even having to ask.

You were an enigma in your own right. Something he’d never really seen before. So starved for attention but so infuriatingly stubborn when it came to letting yourself receive it. So obsessed with the idea of love but so tragically clueless when it came to actually being able to identify it. So in-tune with the emotions of everyone else around you but so completely unaware of your own. You were dangerous– Mori’s worst migraine and Dazai’s best asset with the way your ability would spiral out of control when your feelings became too much for you to bear.

Dazai was hardly solid, made up of nothing more than loose-leaf ideas and questionable personality traits that he’d stolen from others and pieced together for himself over the years. But to you, he was so much more. He was the very foundation beneath your feet, the gravity that kept you standing and upright most days, never letting you float too far into your mind. He was the only thing that could stabilize you and not just from his nullification, but from simply being there. As Chuuya had pointed out so many times, the two of you were “a match made in hell”, but you both seemed to find more comfort than threat in the flames you created together.

Four years ago, if you would’ve asked Dazai how it happened– how your relationship with him had morphed into something that bared such an eerie resemblance to that of trust and understanding, he would’ve dismissed it, but now…

His eyes narrowed, amusement flickering across his face as you circled him in your makeshift training room. “Careful. I told you I’m not gonna let you win this time.”

A spark of silver and blue electricity cracked into the air, your small frame vanishing from where you had been standing across from him, only to reappear right beside him. Your breath hot and tantalizing against the shell of his ear, “Be rough with me then, I can take it.” The smile in your voice was palpable and then– gone.

Now… there was no denying how much he loved chasing and breaking you, his favorite little toy.

He let you have your fun for a few more minutes, folding his arms over his chest with a smirk as you teleported across the abandoned warehouse with precision, pressing soft kisses against his cheek before disappearing into a snap of iridescent energy.

You hid behind a crate, concentrating as your gaze locked onto one of the heavy industrial light fixtures before pulling it down from the rafters, letting it crash next to where Dazai was standing.

"Wow," he mused, giving you a fake clap. "Had I been 12 feet closer, you might've actually gotten me."

He didn't have to know where you were hiding to know that he'd struck a nerve, a smaller lightbulb bursting in one of the overhead lights indicated that you heard him.

"Come here," he said, his voice softening a bit as he rolled his shoulders and shifted his weight. He barely had to side-step to dodge the tire that had been hurled his way. Your emotions were erratic but always predictable.

"Baby, c'mon. It's not my fault you have terrible aim. That's why we're here anyway, remember?"

There was a crackle of energy, another flash of steel blue before you finally reappeared in front of him, a pout that he was all-too familiar with looking back at him.

He bit back a laugh watching you sink into yourself.

"Look, it's about focus, okay?" His tone transitioned into something more serious as he took a slow step towards you. "As long as Mori sees you as his own personal project, I need you to be prepared for anything. You're gonna start getting sent on higher ranking missions sooner than later and I need to know that you're ready for that."

There was something about the way he said it– about the genuine concern coating his words that made your chest tighten.

You let your eyes meet his again as you nodded. "Okay," you breathed, the bratty rebuttal you had lined up promptly dying on the tip of your tongue as you took in his features. "What do you want me to do?"

"Teleport to me, we're going to go over intuition and reflexes."

You drew in a sharp breath before closing your eyes, electricity dancing along your skin as you accidentally snapped yourself directly in front of him so that you were chest to chest.

"Surely you wouldn't get this close to an enemy," he smirked, "but for argument's sake, let's say you did. Let's say you landed right in front of them, just like this and they –"

Without any time to think, Dazai had already reached into the inside of his coat pocket, the cold metal of his Beretta suddenly resting easily against your temple. “What now?” He whispered, looking down at you with provoking curiosity. "What are your instincts telling you to do?"

It wasn't the first time you'd had a gun drawn on you, but it was definitely the first time you'd had a gun drawn on you this... intimately. Your body betrayed you, displaced warmth migrating to your cheeks as you blinked back at him through heavy lashes. Your instincts were certainly there, they were just... all wrong.

Dazai caught your reaction immediately, the fleeting but unmistakable flicker of lust that washed over you.

"Oh?" He quipped, leaning down while pressing the barrel further into your delicate skin. "What’s this, huh?" His stare was equal parts predatory and incredulous as his eyes trailed over you, zeroing in on every small, subtle shift you made. The way your breathing had slowed, the goosebumps that decorated your arms, the way your hips couldn't help but tilt towards his ever-so slightly. "You like it, don't you? Like the way it feels when your life’s in my hands?”

"No, I'm–" You faltered, your words completely stolen by the knowing smirk that had cut across his face. "I'm just– thinking, is all."

"Thinking” he echoed, his other hand gently cradling your jawline as he forced you to keep your eyes locked with his. “And what exactly are you thinking about? Please, enlighten me.”

You had to bite back a smile, trying your best to mask your flimsy composure though you knew he could already see straight through it. "Strategy." You lied, jutting your bottom lip back out in faux innocence.

Dazai couldn't help the laugh that escaped him as he tilted his head towards yours, closing the already small gap between you. "Is that right?" He mused, his lips just barely grazing yours. "My diligent little ghost, always so focused."

You nodded back at him helplessly, his grin razor sharp as his hand trailed from your jaw to the back of your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcefully cocking your head to the side.

It earned him a yelp as he continued to hold his weapon to you. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?" His breath fanned across your skin, leaving a delirious static in its wake while his body pressed against yours, pinning you between him and a metal crate. "Your eyes give you away every time."

"Dazai..." It wasn't quite a moan, but alarmingly close to one as his lips found the nape of your neck, his teeth lightly sinking into you.

"This opens up all sorts of doors for us though, doesn't it?" His curiosity was reaching new heights, dangerous ones that he'd always tried to keep at bay, but now... the glazed over eyes staring back at him were giving him all the confirmation he never needed to keep going.

You nearly moaned into his mouth when he finally kissed you, your hands desperately tangling into the collar of his shirt as you pulled him in closer. Your movements urgent and beyond your control.

"Spread for me." He said between breaths, using his leg to coax yours apart. "I wanna see something."

You were so lost, so needy and overtaken by the feeling of him that you merely whimpered in response, not caring about anything else except for the feeling of his lips back on yours.

"Good girl," he exhaled, hiking your skirt up as he slowly began to slide his gun down along your face. "You trust me, don't you?"

“Always.” You said despite the way your legs were trembling, your nerves dancing with a vicious mix of excitement and fear as he traced the barrel of the gun over your puffy lips.

He angled his knee just right, giving your clit a much-needed brush of friction while you gradually parted your lips for him, welcoming the cold metal into your mouth.

Dazai had never been one for big acts of commitment, but watching you moan into his loaded Beretta made him realize that maybe he did need to know your ring size after all. Just in case.

"Look at you," he groaned, nearly losing himself to the sight of it. "So fucking gorgeous when you're at my mercy like this."

The praise went straight to your center, your body humming with dizzy want and unrelenting need as he carefully retracted it, his mouth dropping open watching the trail of spit that connected you to it break and drip graciously down your chin.

You were fulfilling fantasies of his that he thought he'd only ever get to dream of as he leaned into you again, letting you cling onto him tighter. The two of you worked in perfect feral synchronicity, him pulling the thin fabric of your underwear down over your thighs to help you step out of them before you kicked them out of reach.

"Osamu..." Your voice had been reduced down to a heady plea, one that he'd do anything in his power to satisfy.

"I’m right here.” He lulled, his grip tangled straight back into your hair while his mouth returned to yours, his other hand working on something much more... nefarious.

"Relax for me,” his voice was soft but commanding, laced with something that made you trust him though you knew you shouldn’t. “That's right. Just like that.”

Your pupils doubled in size as you felt the harsh metal begin to slip between your sensitive folds, your words suddenly eviscerated by the way he was staring down at you through dark, clouded eyes. How completely and utterly lost he looked as he spread you apart, a sense of desperation that you'd never quite seen from him before radiating off of each move he made.

"Oh...my god," Every last bit of logical thinking you had was gone, your mind and body both succumbing to the foreign sensation as he kept up a firm but gentle pace, running it uppp and dowwnnn in a way that made yours legs threaten to buckle.

"Dazai," you whined, your nails tearing into his shoulder for support as the motion became more fluid, your arousal acting as a shameful lubricant. You were almost embarrassed by how noticeable it was, how easy it was for him to glide it across you and how loud you’d gotten as you tried to bury your face into his chest.

Dazai, on the other hand, was on cloud nine. Only ascending further into the heavens with each lewd, begging little whimper that spilled out of you. "Do you have any idea how perfect you are?" He soothed, kissing and nipping at your collarbone while you started to find a rhythm, the steel still sending chills down your spine each time it brushed across your overstimulated clit. "I don't think you do," he groaned, "I really don't think you fucking understand what you do to me."

Getting praised by him to any degree always had a way of bringing you to the edge, but this... this was a type of euphoria that you didn't even know existed.

“You know the safety’s off?” He purred against your neck, his heart slamming into his chest as he watched the pouty, pleading look that had taken over you. The same one he’d seen so many times before but never quite like this.

Your slick was practically dripping onto his fingers the more he taunted you, your center greedily searching for release as your hips rocked up towards him.

“All it would take is one little slip, you know.” He was tortuously intoxicating, bringing you to your breaking point by whispering the most infernal little nothings. “With how soaked my fingers are, it’s almost like you want me to. Like you’re just begging for me to-”

Your entire body shook by his last threat, your brows knitting together while you frantically pulled him closer, repeating his name like a prayer in the small space between you. In all his time with you, he'd never seen you this undone before, this fucking beautiful and pathetic. There was something about it, about knowing that he was the only one who would ever get this type of blind obedience out of you that made something inside him ache.

“Dazai ~!”

The whine you let out was so heavy your eyes nearly crossed, more incoherent obscenities bouncing off the concrete floors.

Your cunt was pulsating, absolutely desperate for something to fill it as the orgasm hit you in waves, the rigidness of his gun still sending shockwaves through your thighs. There was a sense of pride and awe that crept over him at how well you responded to him, how overwhelmingly easy it was to break you.

"You're so pretty." He whispered, pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead as he meticulously drifted the weapon back up over your stomach with a small grin. "Fucking insane, but so, so pretty."

You smiled breathlessly back at him, the loaded gun against your body completely forgotten by the weight of his compliment. “You think so?"

“Oh, I know so,” he smirked against your neck, freeing himself from his pants as his teeth sank into your skin. "You just came to the idea of me killing you and now you're all heart-eyed asking me if I really think you're pretty or not." He let out a semblance of a laugh, propping you up to wedge you against the crate again while your legs wrapped around him for support, his Beretta now resting tenderly under your chin. "My sweet girl... you're almost as deranged as I am."

The pink that swept across your face only added to the long list of reasons you were able to hold his attention. You were innocence mixed with sin. Naivety mixed with lust. He was holding a loaded gun to your head and you were all but saying “thank you.”

Your blush deepened as he prodded at your entrance, your eyes glazing over at how thoroughly his tip stretched you. “Dazai –” you whined, both of you reeling from how faithfully your walls sucked him in.

“What is it, angel?” His tone was thick with mockery, his finger resting lazily on the trigger as your nails met his back again. “Feel good?"

You nodded back at him, lips parting the deeper he went. “So good,” you exhaled, your back arching to invite him in more as he thrusted into you. “So fucking good.”

He watched you intently, his dark eyes nearly burning holes into your skin with how fervent his movements had become.

He was drowning in you, both physically and mentally– sinking further and further into the way you welcomed every part of him, both the good and bad. Even with the possibility of death looming over you, your only focus was him. The rest of the world, the threat of your life ending with one easy slip of a finger– none of it mattered as long as it was him that pulled the trigger.

"You'd let me, wouldn't you?" His voice was venomous, gentle enough to subdue you but still poisonous enough to seep into your veins without detection. "You'd let me be the one that to make that fragile heart of yours stop beating."

The answer was written all over of your face, evident in the way your core clenched around him the further he pushed.

You were soaking him, letting out the most gorgeous fucked-out noises he'd ever heard as he continued to wrap around your mind like the serpent that he was, robbing you of the last bit of dignity you had left.

"Say it." Dazai commanded, his thrusts becoming more punishing. "Let me fucking hear, it baby." He was just as lost as you were, riding a high he'd never experienced before as his hips met yours with untamed urgency.

"I –" Your vision blurred, your thighs trembling while his tip relentlessly slammed into your sweet spot. You could barely form a thought, let alone a sentence, his dark stare the only thing keeping you tethered to the room. "I– would." you finally choked out, almost drooling from how deep he suddenly was. "Dazai please, I'd– let you. I'd let you do anything, any... thing."

It wasn't the first time that he'd had someone beg while under the scope of his gun– some had begged him to spare their lives. Some had begged for him to just end it altogether. But no one had ever begged out of... love.

The noise he made was guttural, primal as his lips crashed into yours, his resolve crumbling entirely. His forehead pressed against yours while your walls spasmed around him like a vice, your core unravelling in a way that made him forget all of his senses.

You were smothering him, your nails tearing into his skin as your broken voice sang out his name like he'd trained you to do.

"There it is," he almost wasn't sure if it was you or himself he was saying it to as he began to twitch inside you. "There it– is, baby. Keep going. Don't stop." He was falling straight into the same abyss you were, the two of you tumbling hand in hand into a seemingly never-ending void of bliss.

"You're mine," he promised, letting his body seal the vow he was creating as he watched a desperate kind of sincerity settle over your features.

"Yours." you repeated softly, eyes full of conviction.

His chest heaved as he buried the last of his logical thinking and carnal desires into you at once. A damning warmth suddenly coating your walls while he slowly retracted the gun away from you and replaced it something much more sinister– affection.

His fingers gently traced over the side of your cheek as your uneven breathing mingled together. "Deranged." He panted with a faint smirk, "Certifiably insane."

You merely smiled as he pulled out of you, carefully getting you back to your feet. "And yours." You reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah," he teased, kneeling down to grab your discarded underwear. "Just stay still for me." He was tentative as he helped you redress, adjusting and smoothing down your skirt while stealing proud glances at the mess he'd left dripping down your leg.

You quietly admired him, noting the tenderness in the way he handled you as you stood perfectly still, only moving when he’d guide you.

Your brows furrowed slightly when he stood back up and pulled his Beretta out of his pocket again, opening the chamber to let a bullet fall into his hand. "Here," he said, offering it to you, "a little keepsake. Maybe you can turn it into a necklace or something."

You held it up to the light like it was a precious stone, your jewelry box back at Port Mafia suddenly calling your name as your brain danced with ideas of how to turn it into something even more beautiful.

Dazai couldn't help but grin as he watched you twirl it between your fingers with all of the delicacy in the world, your eyes wide with wonder.

It was fitting, he thought, the way you were able to make art out of even the most broken things.

⋆.𐙚˚

#rem writes #bsd fanfic #osamu x reader #dazai osamu #bsd smut #dazai smut #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai x fem reader #soukoku

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vouges · 9 hours ago

Text

word count: 750 - nsfw, minors do not interact.

Tattoo artist Simon! who had a busy schedule, very high in demand yet for some reason always had a spot available for you.

Tattoo artist Simon! who swore the discount he gave you was just a friendly gesture, brushing it off as a way to make a loyal client feel appreciated.

Tattoo artist Simon! who never did more than necessary, the touch routine and practiced, yet with you he always let his fingers linger longer than they needed to, almost caressing, before you heard the familiar buzz of the needle.

"Gotta keep still for me, yeah?" he murmured, "Can’t be messing up my pretty canvas"

Tattoo artist Simon! who felt like a fool every time his cock hardened when you’d send through a picture of your healed up tattoo, with a sweet little thank you message always accompanied by a heart that pathetically made him want to cum in his boxers.

Tattoo artist Simon! who insisted you were just another client, even as he fucked his fist to the images of you engrained into his mind. He felt like a desperate mess, cock achingly hard as ropes of cum shot out, splattering across his stomach all from the slithers of skin that he’d seen when tattooing you. God, how easily you made him feel like an inexperienced virgin.

Tattoo artist Simon! who messaged back embarrassingly fast when you asked if he ever wanted to meet up outside of just a tattooing session. He cringed afterwards, noticing the typos and the awkward combination of emojis used.

'A thumbs up and two smiles?' he thought to himself, 'Real great Simon, should've thrown in the entire happy categories of emojis whilst you're at it'

Tattoo artist Simon! who couldn't believe his luck when you and him wound up on your sofa after dinner and a few drinks at a local pub but makes no move to question it as you both kiss messily, tongues dancing and hands reaching everywhere they can with the current restriction of your clothes.

"Wow- this is actually happening, huh?" he mumbled as you kissed messily, hands grasping at each other, "God, you've no idea how long I've been waiting for this"

Tattoo artist Simon! who had to bite down on your shoulder to muffle the groan that escaped him as he bottomed out in you for the first time. Hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise as if he was scared you'd disappear if he let up.

"Fuuuck-" he whispered shakily as he tried to remind himself you had neighbours and very thin walls, "God that feels so good."

Tattoo artist Simon! who quickly gave up on any attempt to be quiet once he heard how pretty your moans sounded, selfishly wanting them to grace his ears with every thrust as he tilted your head back, not wanting you to stifle your moans with the cushions underneath you.

"Shit- no, keep making those sounds," he murmured, breath hot against your skin, "Wanna hear every single one of ‘em, don't go quiet on me, doll"

Tattoo artist Simon! who honestly felt like he'd never experienced sex this good, even on a less than comfortable sofa that he knew would leave him sore in the morning, it was worth it as he felt your pussy clench around his cock, so warm and tight, milking him for all his worth.

"Fuck- so...so, good-" he almost whined, punctuating each word with a thrust, his balls slapping against your skin as he increased tempo, "Could stay like this forever."

Tattoo artist Simon! who kissed you with so much more care than you'd ever expect as you both came, you gushing around his cock as his cum shot out, painting your walls, before slowly oozing out from where you were both connected.

Tattoo artist Simon! who had to take a moment to admire the sight of your blissed out face as you lay back on the sofa, slick with sweat and his cum running out of you.

Tattoo artist Simon! who laughed as he lay beside you on a sofa that was way too small, the both of you talking about everything and nothing at all before realising you'd both denied wanting this for so long.

"I tried so hard not to like you, thinking you were too good for me- hoping it would keep the thoughts at bay," he chuckled, a contagious sound as he ran his fingers across your skin, "Didn’t work for shit obviously with you wanting me just as bad."

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atrwriting · 1 year ago

Text

rivalry — blackwood and bracken arranged marriage au

pt. 2 my luvs

so i wasn't an aeron girly and then a few people requested him and i was like shii maybe y'all are onto something

ok full disclosure i genuinely didn't think i would be able to write for him and then suddenly i think i wrote the dirtiest thing i've ever written in my life (like ok maybe im exaggerating but fr i was quaking in my boots)

as always, warnings: enemies to loves, smut smut smutty smut smut, blowjob, p in v sex, hate fucking, he's so pretty i cried writing this, dom!aeron, swearing, bit of pre-sex violence in an ok way, anal play, rough sex, arranged marriage, heavy on the sexism, aeron is a consent king u can't convince me otherwise

don't tell me if this sucks lmao actually please tell me im a whore for validation and critiques

_____

he did not know how he found himself in this mess.

genuinely, he did not.

when aeron bracken was a man grown, he understood duty and how he needed to uphold it. he understood that duty and tradition needed to be put over his own wants and needs, for it was for the greater good for his house.

...until that greater good came in the form of two marriages between brackens and blackwoods. his younger sister would marry a blackwood, and he would marry the younger sister of his new brother in-law. he bit his tongue at the idea — aghast at how a feud that is so engrained in their bones could be thrown away with two simple marriage pacts. how could a wound so deep, so festered — be expected to heal so fast, let alone at all?

despite the fact that it left him aghast — he would not show it on his face. his face was that of stone throughout the entire ordeal; the ceremony, the feast, the dancing — all of it. he hadn’t even had a proper look at his bride — because what would it do? it wouldn’t matter. he would bed whoever it was once or twice a month, and hope for the best.

that was until the wedding night.

there was no bedding ceremony, thank the gods — but there was throwing of cups.

lots of cups.

aeron had never had so many silver and gold chalices thrown at him in his entire life — especially not by a woman.

there the pair of you were — in your nightwear, behind a locked bedroom door, and you were throwing cups at your new husband.

aeron hadn’t even stepped within ten feet of you. he had simply sauntered into the room, greeted you, and began taking of his clothes as you were already dressed for the occasion.

“will you stop it?!” he hollered, bending to avoid the goblet hitting him in the temple. “i command you to stop!”

“you think that because we are married i will obey you?” you spat, throwing anything in your line of sight to keep him from you.

“i would hope that you would refrain from pelting me with objects until i have at least done something to fucking deserve it!”

“you’re a fucking bracken!” you spat.

aeron couldn’t believe the mouth on you, his new wife — but he could believe such atrocities came from the mouth of a blackwood.

“trust me,” he spat, dodging the next object. “i would rather be anywhere else than here!”

“you think me ugly, husband?” you responded curtly. “that i am not fit to share your bedchamber?”

“not when you’re trying to maim me — no, wife!”

“or that i am beneath you?” you spat.

suddenly you were out of objects to throw at him — but that relief was clouded by his sheer realization that your bark was just as bad as your bite.

“i never said that —" he said, trying to catch his breath. “if i recall correctly — it was your brother who referred to me as craven, and then agreed to the marriage pact. your brother began with the insults —“

“but not until you —“

“wife!” aeron suddenly hollered, his fists balled at his sides as his skin began to turn pink. he was a few feet away from you, keeping his distance. when you did not flinch at his volume or tone, he kept going, “am i bedding you — or your brother, hmm?”

“i wouldn’t be surprised —“

he couldn’t take it anymore. he stomped over to where you stood. his tall height forced him to lean down so his face was only a few inches from yours.

“whether you like it or not — you’re a bracken now,” he spat. his eyes were blown wide above you — consumed with an anger that appeared to be foreign to him. as you studied him, he continued, “we can either get this over with, or we tell our families we would not perform our duties. is that what you want?”

“you think i’d scoff at duty?” you demanded. “i refuse to be any man’s triumph — let alone a maiden on my wedding night!”

the admission caught him by surprise — but the look of fear that cross your eyes threw him much more by surprise. you weren’t a maiden, but what did that matter now? he could've scoffed at your admission. just like a blackwood to make a decision they regret.

“look,” he sighed, shaking his head. “that doesn’t matter now — and it would ruin both of us if anyone knew that. it does not bother me that you’ve been with someone else, nor will i force you to be with me. however, i will not be subjected to hatred from my wife when this is the first time we’ve spoken. if you wish —“

“get on the bed,” you spoke, sighing.

his brow furrowed in confusion.

“get on the bed,” you repeated.

he looked over you once before he pulled his shirt above his head, discarding it. as he turned, he began to unlace his pants — but he did not take them off. he let them hang loose on his hips before he laid down on the bed.

he returned his eyes to you as soon as he had laid down. when he set his eyes upon you, he realized you were bare. bare in all of your glory. he had never seen a woman so perfect in all of his life. skin as soft silk bed sheets, hair cascading down your back like that of the most coveted mare, and a figure that even the king himself would ask your hand in marriage for.

but he did not say that. any of that. his eyes were trained on you in the way any man would be on a woman as beautiful as you. and when his mouth parted slightly, his lips falling open in awe — you knew you had him and that no words would’ve been as good as the look on his face.

you fought the urge to smirk, but that did not stop you from walking towards him. you straddled his hips, letting your cunt fall right on top of where his pants hid his bulge.

“i prefer to be on top, husband,” you spoke.

he raised his eyebrows, silently conveying that he was impressed. “you’ll find no quarrel from me, wife.”

aeron bracken wouldn’t say that he was inexperienced, but he definitely did not have the confidence his lady wife had. he also never thought he would like a woman taking control… but the prospect of hurting a woman made him so nervous. he never saw he would actually see the day — him, a bracken, afraid to hurt a blackwood.

“but i must ask you one thing,” he spoke, refusing to touch her just yet. “this is of your own volition? — because i don’t want to do this if you do not wish it.”

you quirked an eyebrow at him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a loose embrace. “what of duty?”

“if duty comes in the form of forcing your wife in the bedroom — ” he spoke softly, and then continued, “i want no part in it.”

you couldn’t believe your ears. you didn’t think he would be aggressive or ruthless, but you never thought aeron bracken would want your consent — of all things! you didn’t think any man would ever understand the concept — and yet here was your husband, sitting below you and not touching you until he had your consent.

a small pool of wetness collected between your folds, and then slipped onto the laces of his pants. you didn’t think he’d notice — but you did.

he was looking at you intently — studying your face, but also waiting for your reply. you couldn’t help but give a knowing smile.

“are you pleased with the wife you received, husband?” you asked, gesturing to your naked body.

“i consider myself very lucky, wife,” he spoke, a slight smile coming to his lips. “but no one had ever conveyed to me how pretty of a face my wife had.”

“did they convey how poor my attitude is?”

“i already knew that, my lady.”

you swatted him lightly and playfully — both of you smiling.

“i want to do this with you,” you spoke, taking his hand and putting it on one of your breasts. “do you want this to be with me, husband?”

his hands were greedy with what he had been granted access to. his large hand grasped at your breast before he rolled your nipple in between his index and thumb finger. your hips jerked forward then at the sensitivity while your mouth parted slightly. aeron couldn’t help but watch as a blush rose to your cheeks, and he realized then that he wanted this very much.

“very much, wife,” he spoke, suddenly realizing he should at least try not to sound too eager.

he’d never know, but you didn’t mind his eagerness. you took it for candor, and that you appreciated.

you grabbed his other hand, and place it on your other breast. you witnessed his gaze flicker between your breasts and your face, almost like a silent question. when you bit your lip and smiled, aeron bracken did not waste any time.

his perfect lips wrapped around your nipple, which looked too good to aeron not to get a taste. his teeth had found the bud, lightly grazing it as he sucked at it. with his other arm, he wrapped it around your back with a focus on your waist. he began to thrust his hips slightly upward as he pushed and pulled you forward and backward onto his bulge.

“tell me what you like,” aeron ordered, still pinching your nipple.

you gasped at the feeling — surprised at aeron’s confident nature. you ground your cunt down harder onto his bulge, enjoying the friction from the laces of his pants. you grew worried at the prospect of soaking his pants, wondering how he would react.

“i want your cock inside me,” you mused. “and in my mouth.”

he moaned against your breast, the vibrations sending ripples throughout your entire body. he replied, “more, wife.”

you laughed, threading your fingers through his hair. “i like to be taken from behind — and i want your arm around my neck. i like it rough, husband."

for a mere instant, he thought about how other men would respond to her admission and use of coarse language. within that same moment, the thought vanquished from his mind. he realized how lucky he was to have a wife seemingly as experienced as you — for what trouble would there be now? you would tell him if he was hurting you, and you would be able to tell him what you like.

“and what do you like, husband?” you asked, running a few fingers up and down his upper arm.

he moved his hands down to your knees, running his large palms up and down your thighs. you watched his shoulder and bicep muscles tense and release as his arms extended and retracted, rubbing your soft skin. “i want to make you finish on my cock.”

you raised your eye brows at him as you blushed, laughing. “is that so, husband? i was led to believe that brackens were selfish — but now i see they're just ambitious."

you watched him as he appeared to turn over words in his head, contemplating what to say. you realized then how different aeron already was from what your family was like, and what your family believed him to be like. “can i ask you for something?”

“what, husband?”

“just allow me one night.”

you quirked an eyebrow at him. “what… do you mean?”

“allow me one night to prove that i am not what your family believes me to be.”

“my family?” you asked, stunned.

“nor you, wife,” aeron stated with a knowing grin. “just one night — for me to prove that this does not have to be a union consumed by hatred.”

you did not answer. you simply leaned down, and connected your lips with his. with both hands cupping the sides of his face, you kissed him with only sweetness and curiosity. aeron was so… different than you had ever thought he would be. he intrigued you. he honestly did. maybe it was the feud, maybe it was something else… because it didn’t matter. all you wanted to know what was the extent of his sweetness.

when he had finally discarded his pants, you marveled at his cock. it was bigger than you had ever seen, and your eyes told that. aeron smiled when he saw your surprised reaction, and couldn’t help but feel more confident at the prospect of an experienced woman being pleased with what he could offer.

you couldn’t help yourself — you immediately took him into your mouth.

aeron had received blowjobs before, sure — but not like this. oh… definitely not like this. with your hollowed out cheeks, you took him deep into your mouth and down your throat. the warmth from your mouth made him shiver, but not before his muscles tensed at the same time his mind relaxed. he had never known bliss like this. how could his pretty wife ever think he would scorn her for her experience, especially when he benefitted from it so sweetly? few hairs fell down to cover your face as you sucked on his cock, and he couldn’t help but think about how fucking lucky he was.

so lucky. so fucking lucky.

that was until you pulled off.

“does etiquette escape you, husband?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

he raised an eyebrow. “no — but your meaning does. why have you stopped?”

“because you should be holding my hair out of my face!” you snapped, eyeing him.

you didn’t let him respond. you took him back into your mouth before one of his hands picked up all of your hair and piled it on the back of your head — away, and out of your face.

good, you thought. he can take directions.

that was until you felt him begin to push down on the back of your head, causing the tip of his cock to nudge further and further down your throat. you wanted to scold him — reminding him you’re the one in charge when his cock is down your throat — but you didn’t. you didn’t because when you snapped your eyes up and saw the look on your husband’s face, you would’ve gasped if you could.

his cheeks were tinted a light pink as his eyes had drifted closed. with his mouth slightly parted, falling open in pleasure, he fought back the urge to let small moans escape his throat. with his adam’s apple bobbing — all you wanted to do was keep him teetering on the edge of not enough of and the perfect amount of pleasure.

you should’ve scolded him for pushing down on your head without asking, but you realized suddenly that it ate at your womb like the hunger for his big member inside of you. your realization occurred at the same time aeron noticed you watching him.

he smiled.

wickedly.

“are you enjoying yourself, wife?” he asked, holding your head up so you were only sucking the tip.

you narrowed your eyes at him, unwilling to give him what he wanted.

he threw his head back in laughter. you went to tell him off, but he pushed your head down again. you gagged around him, fighting the urge to cough and cry. you were growing irritated with his actions — wondering where in the seven hells he got the fucking nerve.

he noticed your anger the instant your brow began to knit together.

“you’re so pretty, wife —“ he spoke, relishing in the pleasure you granted him with a wicked smile on his face. “but you are so much prettier when your cock is down my throat and that attitude escapes you.”

he pushed your head down again, causing you to gag and a tear spring to your eye. you wanted to tell him off — but when the warmth in your womb curled with the anger in your chest, you couldn’t. you just couldn’t. you couldn’t bring yourself to scold him, because what if he stopped? what if he stopped the delicious, bittersweet feeling that he was giving you without even touching you?

“i can see it by the way you’re rubbing your thighs together,” he spoke, eyes on the backs of your legs. “can’t help it, i see. all that blackwood attitude, 's too much for you, isn't it? — all you needed was for a bracken to put you in your place.”

he wasn’t choking you, no — but the surprise attacks on the back of your head and into your throat threw you for loops. you didn’t like to be out of control, and didn’t think you ever would — but you couldn’t deny the slick that had fell from your folds and was now collecting between your thighs. you grew insecure at the thought — that if the flames from the fire or the lanterns caught the shadows just right, aeron would see your slick glisten in the light. the realization was embarrassing and exhilarating all at the same time — but you couldn’t deny you wanted more.

“that’s it, wife,” he cooed condescendingly above you. “take that bracken cock down your pathetic fucking throat.”

you did. oh gods, you did. your throat was hoarse with the bittersweet attack on its inside. you were fighting back coughs and gasps, wanting to wipe away every bit of saliva from around your mouth but you couldn’t. you were stroking the bottom of his cock and bracing yourself with your other hand — working him as fast and as hard as he wanted you to.

and then he pulled you off when you reached the tip of his cock.

you were hazy — lost in lust. he pulled you off of his cock with your mouth still open, saliva beginning to run down your chin. you were gasping for air once aeron let go of your hair, only to replace his hand around your throat.

you immediately grabbed his wrist — you weren’t sure why. to brace yourself, maybe — but that was all you could do as aeron held you before him with your back arched towards him while he sat upright.

you weren’t sure what you looked like — probably a mess; spit, tears, and messy hair. but aeron? fuck, aeron — he was himself. completely himself. confidence and pleasure and arrogance formed to make a look of power on aeron, and you couldn’t help but want him more. the pink hue of his cheeks and lips did not suggest innocence, no — but exertion of a man’s power. at that moment, all you wanted was your bracken husband inside you.

“you hate that you liked that, don’t you?” he asked, a small wicked grin playing at his lips.

you couldn’t answer. you could only gasp for air in response, throat still dry from his cock.

“cock keeps you quiet, wife?” he laughed then.

your eyes narrowed at him, even through your tears. that set you off.

“well, when you shove your craven cock down my throat —“

he chuckled then, and you were too weak to protest. “craven cock, that right?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “well, maybe i should let my reputation precede me — i guess i don’t care about fucking my wife the way she needs me to.”

“i don’t need you to,” you spat, lying through your teeth.

“you don’t?”

he held you upright then, leaving you on your knees with your back arched. he towered over you on your own knees as you felt a hand of his slip down your abdomen, and in between your thighs.

he laughed once more. “you don’t?”

you went to hit him, but he caught your hand. your cheeks were beginning to sting with want, need, and embarrassment. when his fingers began to rub circles on your clit, the fucking center of the ache — you almost doubled over onto him, hoping to catch yourself on his chest. you fought against his fingers, forcing yourself not to show any sign of enjoyment.

he chuckled darkly. “i’m going to have to fuck that blackwood attitude out of you, aren’t i?”

“as if you could,” you replied, glaring.

he raised his eyebrows at you then — a dare. you were feeling weak, and definitely weren’t able to match him — but you couldn’t let that show.

“i was going to be nice and let my pretty wife ride me,” he ordered, sighing. "get on your stomach."

he let go of your throat with a slight push on the release. your muscles were wound so tight that the abrupt action caused you to lose your balance, and fall. with a huff, you rolled over onto your stomach.

aeron couldn’t believe the sight before his eyes. the flames and the moonlight from the window caused shadows to ripple across your perfect hourglass shape and ass. aeron pushed your soft, long hair off of your back and onto the bed so that his fingers could trace the length of your spine from your neck to your tailbone.

you shivered at the feeling. you were about to scoff at him when he smacked your ass.

“bracken!” you spat. “how dare —“

he chuckled before he pulled you up the hips. you caught yourself on your knees and hands, trying to keep your balance. a blush rose to your cheeks as you realized you were… completely exposed to your husband. you felt his hand come up to the fleshy part of your ass, kneading the thick skin. you froze.

“my perfect wife…” he mused, massaging your skin.

you wriggled in his hold, and he held you still — spreading your cheeks. you gasped at the further exposure — every private area of your body now visible.

“husband…” you spoke.

his tone mocked you. “you’re still soaking, my lady — do you really want your lord husband to stop?”

“piss off — !”

he smacked your ass again, causing you to yelp.

“can’t expect better from a blackwood…” he sighed. he spat on the puckered hole of your ass, and you froze. he let the spit drop from your ass to your cunt, mixing with the juices collecting on your folds. “are you going to lose your mouth?”

“i swear —“

you felt his finger circle your puckered hole, and before you could protest — he slipped his thumb into you.

you gasped, leaning forward. his laugh vibrated through him, and you felt it against the backs of your thighs. it was only his thumb — but you had never been touched in such a way. you had never had anyone, nor anyone breach such a private area of yours. you felt it bury itself to the last knuckle, all of your muscles tightening around it. you should’ve felt violated, dirty, something of the sort… but you didn’t. all you could register was how empty your cunt felt in comparison.

“have you ever been touched here before?”

you didn’t answer, still speechless.

he smacked your ass once more. “you will answer when your lord husband speaks to you.”

“no, husband…” you whispered. “please, husband… i want your cock…”

“…i could give you my cock, couldn’t i?” he spoke, slipping his thumb in and out of you gently. a sharp intake of break was involuntary from your throat. “i could, but what would that teach you? my greedy blackwood wife would continue to think so little of her bracken husband.”

“don’t make me beg,” you whined. “i want you so bad, please…”

you couldn’t see it — but you could imagine the smirk on his face at your words. he slipped a finger inside your soaking cunt and aching clit, and couldn’t help but let out a sigh at the feeling. your cunt clamped down around his finger like you had never had someone inside you before, needing him so desperately. his circles on your clit were agonizingly slow, and soon the relief from his minuscule touch was turning into desperation.

he realized this at the same moment you did.

“who knew my lady wife could be such a whore for her husband,” he spoke lowly. your hips began to rock against his hand, wanting and needing more. so much more. “do you wish me to stop? tell me.”

“no —“ you cried. “you can’t stop, i’ll… i’ll…”

your body felt like it had pins and needles everywhere. you had been pushed and pulled toward an orgasm, over and over, but never fully brought to the peak. you were warm, cold, hot, freezing — all at once and it smashed your resolve to pieces. you were a pathetic, drooling, sopping mess that needed her husband to quell this ache; to put it to rest so that you may rest.

he ripped his hands from you, and you sobbed. you actually sobbed. you bent your hips back to meet his, but met nothing. you bit back a sigh of frustration as tears threatened to overflow from your eyes.

“seven hells…” you sighed, shoving your face into the bed cover.

then, you felt your hips being pushed down as your knees flattened. you went to turn around to question it, but then you felt your husband spread your thighs. the cool air hit your cunt like lightening and you whimpered at the feeling. you felt an arm snake around your throat as a weight settled on top of you.

you felt aeron’s lips press against your jaw — pushing your head to the side as his touch calmed you. you let your head be supported by his strong arm, whimpering when you felt the tip of his cock at your entrance.

“maybe brackens are mean…” he whispered against your ear. “an honorable husband would right that mistake, wouldn’t he?”

he didn’t wait for you to respond. he thrusted his cock into your wet cunt. once his cock filled you, a gasp left your lips on reflex. you could feel a groan rumbling in his chest as he bit down on your neck. your husband had complete control over your body, and you gave in to his thrusts as his hips snapped against yours.

“that’s what you needed,” he stated with a wicked grin against your cheek. “cunt so warm and wet — just wanted to be fucked so bad.”

“you fucking bastard —" you cried. “it feels so good —"

with a groan, he spoke, "i know it does — didn't i promise i'd make the ache go away?"

your cunt sucked him in — refusing to let him go as he thrusted inside of you. he slid his hand underneath your stomach and let his fingers find your clit and roughly rub shapes on it. you reflexively bit down on his forearm, crying into his skin. your hips wanted to move with him, or against him, fucking anything — you weren't really sure, as they had a mind of their own. the pleasure was too much — and way too much for your mind. aeron was fucking you dumb into the bed without anywhere to go.

you felt his lips by your ear, "that's it. take it for me. ungrateful cunt — can't get enough of craven bracken cock."

nothing that left your lips was coherent. you were gasping onto his forearm for dear life as his sword hand drew the greatest weapon of all — forcing the sobbing, strong woman to become clay in his fucking hands. with his own hips and arm, he held your hips down as they tried to fight against them. try they did, but they were no match for a man like aeron bracken.

"tell me you can't get enough wife — " he grit against your ear. "tell me you can't get enough of craven bracken cock."

"don't make me — "

he stilled not only his hips, but his hand.

he held your still with his forearm, locking you in place. you fought against him, trying to buck your hips back against his cock for anything you could get. with malice, he replied, "i could use my hand and hold you down on this bed as i finish all over your back. would you prefer that, wife? spilling over you like a common whore? or will you listen?"

"fucking —" you spat, consumed by frustration. "aeron, please —"

"are those words too dirty for you, my lady?" he asked condescendingly, softly and slowly moving his finger against your clit. not enough to satisfy you — but definitely enough to frustrate you further. "you want me to fuck you like other lords fuck their new wives? slow, and shallow? maybe three thrusts before they fall asleep? barely caring if their wife feels good?"

"no..." you whimpered.

"then say it."

"please, husband..." your mind going numb with frustration. "please — i need your craven bracken cock."

"that's is, love," he spoke, sheathing his long cock inside you once more. "that's all i needed. such a good little wife for me."

his fingers immediately continued their assault on your clit, and you gasped at the feeling. you could feel and hear aeron's laugh behind you as your hips jerked once, twice, thrice before you let out a cry. it filled the room and would fill the ears of anyone walking by your room. you dug your nails into his forearm as he pulled you closer against him, closer, closer, closer — kissing your forehead as you came. you came, and you came, and you came. there was nothing like it. there was nothing left of you. you had never experienced an orgasm that was so fucking earth shattering. it pushed and pulled you like nothing ever before. with each aftershock, aeron sucked on your neck and hummed at the taste. he wanted to swallow you whole, and leave nothing left for you. you were clay — barely crumbs in his hand, but only his to mold.

when you went limp, aeron let out a hearty, earthy grunt. he pushed you down onto the mattress as you lay flat on your stomach. on his knees and between your thighs, he grasped the flesh of your ass in both hands and fucked your cunt straight into that perfect spot that you had only found once or twice in your life. he was like an animal behind you; predator and prey, with the carnal need to breed you dumb. when aeron delivered his final thrust, his hips snapped against you and you could feel him against your cervix. it hurt in the most delicious way possible — almost like you could feel your hips, cervix, womb, fucking everything open for him and swallow him whole.

he collapsed next to you before he pulled you into his arms. he placed a single kiss on your forehead, long and hard and you sighed, content.

"did i prove myself to you?" he whispered as the flames from the fire begin to die down, cloaking you both in darkness.

you scoffed, nuzzling further into him as you kissed the skin of his chest.

"no need to admit it, wife," he laughed, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "i already accomplished tonight's ambition."

you swatted him — and he laughed, not fearing you in the slightest.

____

lmk what u think ;)))) -L

#house of the dragon #hotd #aeron fic #aeron smut #aeron imagine #aeron bracken #aeron bracken smut #aeron bracken fic #aeron bracken imagine #house bracken #davos blackwood #house blackwood #dom aeron bracken #aeron x you #aeron x reader #aeron bracken x reader #aeron bracken x you

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erwinsvow · 1 year ago

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there is nothing in this world that rafe cameron loves more than a sundress.

correction—that used to be the case. there's nothing in this world that rafe loves more than you in a sundress.

what had started off as a small preference, usually just joked about and then forgotten until the next sundress season started, had now turned into a full-blown obsession.

rafe stares, though he really shouldn't—mostly because he looks like a complete creep with his gaze locked on you all the time. even when you're just a few feet away, his eyes are burning holes through your body, especially when you're in one of those dresses.

he stares at the hem, how it floats around your thighs when you walk and brushes gently against your skin. doesn't that bother you? he thinks to himself, fully knowing how sensitive that part of you is because usually he's the one touching you there. you squirm when his fingers trace behind your knee and up your thighs, but the dress doesn't seem to do anything like that.

he stares at thin straps, sometimes hastily tied into a bow resting on the top of your shoulders, other times skinny little things that he thinks he could rip off with a little tug. he wouldn't even have to put much strength into it, it would probably tear away from your dress at the first pull. he can't—of course—you love your precious dresses too much for that and he's thinking these thoughts at the dinner table in front of a whole restaurant, but the thought still lingers.

other times it's the way the straps have slid off your shoulder, resting around your arm until you bring your fingers to lift it again. and even then, it just falls again at the next jostle of your body.

like now, when you're shopping for something new and rafe's following right behind you. there's a shopping bag in one hand that you won't let him hold, and your purse on the other arm, and everytime you try to browse through a rack, the strap falls down.

you give up after the next few times, letting your bare shoulder face rafe while you try to find a new pair of jeans from the options in front of you. when you pick up a pair and turn to rafe, you find he's already staring.

"rafe?" you ask, not sure exactly what he's looking at you so keenly for. "do you like these?"

you hold the jeans out to him for an opinion, though you know what'll he say—that all of the ones on the rack look the same to him.

but he doesn't say anything. still staring at you with an intensity you don't understand, your boyfriend's eyes briefly flick from the jeans back to you, and then to your shoulder. he reaches out, fingers brushing your skin, and your head turns to follow. he picks up the fallen strap from your arm and brings it up around the curve of your shoulder until it's secured once again.

"oh," you say, turning to rafe with a smile. your face feels surprisingly hot. "thank you."

"yeah," rafe mutters, looking back at you while you turn—a little confused—back to the jeans on the rack.

it's not just the straps, either, it's all of it. the pretty colors that make your skin glow, some of the floral patterns he's engrained into his memory from looking at for far too long, even the way the dress sits on your body.

but more than that, it's because he knows exactly what's underneath these dresses and what's waiting for him.

he knows all of it—miles of smooth skin, curves that are made for his touch, the places where the two of you fit together like pieces of a puzzle. staring at you now, mindlessly sifting through the clothes without a second thought or even an understanding of what exactly is running through your boyfriend's mind, you wander over to other dresses.

there's more of the same—skinny straps and short, flowy skirts. each one you hold up paints a vivid picture in his head—how easily he could lift it up to your hips, how the fabric would look bunched around your stomach while he holds you in place.

he does that a lot—keep you in your little dresses while he fucks you, sometimes out of impatience, sometimes out of the sheer desire to watch your body sweat and strain inside the material until he eventually gives in and rips it up.

yes, rafe loves your sundresses.

"pink.." you say, holding up one dress with another sweet smile, snapping him out of his thoughts instantly. "or white?"

both look similar—the pink is smaller, maybe a little more snug on you, which is an appealing thought. the white is looser, but with the little straps he likes so much, the ones he can untie with one tug and reveal your tits in one go.

"hm," rafe says, as though he's actually considering it. he leans in a little, and you keep smiling, eyes a little big, waiting for an answer. but you don't get one, just rafe taking both hangers out of your hand.

"no, i didn't mean-"

"i know. c'mon, kid, let's get outta here."

"rafe, i just want one-"

"well you're gettin' both."

a little pout takes over your features—you don't really mean it, he knows, since two dresses instead of one is nothing to complain about. instead he knows you feel bad about it. but to you, rafe is nothing if not generous. he turns back, clutching both of your new dresses way too tightly in his fist.

"how 'bout.. you get both, and you thank me at home? huh?" your pout replaced with a smile, you nod at rafe while you lead him to the check out counter.

he stares at the back of your dress while you walk away. too distracted again, he stays in place, watching.

"rafe? are you coming?"

"yeah, kid. comin'."

#short and sweet ♡#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #shy reader

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nuggets-small-corner · 6 months ago

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Camp Counselor Choso who only got this job because his little brother wanted to go to this summer camp and Choso was too old to sign up. However, he wasn’t about to leave his little brother in the wilderness all alone, so he became a camp counselor.

Camp Counselor Choso who got a chance to meet the nurse during the main tour and he was shocked to see such a pretty little thing like yourself in the middle of nowhere. The way you had on a red crop top with a pair of short blue jeans that hugged your thighs in a way that made his mouth salivate.

Camp Counselor Choso who listens to you apologizes for your appearance and how you had to restock everything from the camp session and it gets hot. You even gave the sad news that you would dress more professionally once the kids were around.

Camp Counselor Choso tries his hardest to engrain the image of you reaching above to get a bottle of something and how all your plump flesh looks spreading out.

Camp Counselor Choso who does actually manage to pay attention as you describe the different harms that are common at a summer camp and how to handle it. You also made sure to state that everyone should know how to get to the nurse station from whatever location they are at.

Camp Counselor Choso who stiffened up when you looked over at him and he swore you stared into his eyes for 6 years while you talked, but it was actually 30 seconds. Once you stop going over the different ways to help a child appropriately to not cross any boundaries, but also being efficient, you point to him to give you a demonstration.

You laid on the ground and complained about how your knee hurt and you think you twisted it. You looked up at him with a pout and your long eyelashes fluttering towards him. Camp Counselor Choso who realized at that exact moment that you had him wrapped around your finger without trying.

Camp Counselor Choso who reaches down and puts one arm underneath your knee and the other behind your back before effortlessly picking you up. You didn’t seem to expect that as a cute little squeal came from your mouth. Choso was delighted to feel your arms wrap around his neck and your nails accidentally scratch him. He could feel the blush coming up neck at the sensation.

Camp Counselor Choso is confused on why you start laughing at him. You simply explained that “while you are strong, extremely strong”, he didn’t miss the way your eyes looked up and down his arm muscle, “if a kid complains about their knee hurting, picking them up like this can put pressure on it.”

Camp Counselor Choso slowly puts you down as you try to explain to him how to properly handle the situation. Your solution was so much better. You grabbed his arm and put it around your waist. The warmth from your exposed skin felt amazingly under his finger tips. You leaned into him and lifted your other knee in front of you.

Camp Counselor Choso got the gist of the training quite quickly, especially when you used him 3 other times to demonstrate something. He loved the feeling of your hands on him or you asking him to put his hands on you.

Camp Counselor Choso who is sad that he didn’t see you for the next few days, only until the last two days did you show up. You appeared in the main cabin in the middle of a presentation. Your eyes looked around and Choso’s entire head was turned around to look at you. He felt like a dog who was finally getting to see his favorite toy again.

Your eyes landed on Choso and a smile instantly came onto your face. You quickly walked over and sat down next to him. “There goes my favorite helper,” you whispered. Choso could only stare in excitement at the fact that you choose to sit next to him. “Did you miss me?”

Yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes.

Camp Counselor Choso decided to respond with a small quiet laugh as he nodded. He wished he could say that every day he came to the main cabin and looked for you. He couldn’t say how after the full first day of you not coming in, he asked the trainers if you would no longer be participating. A member had explained to him that you had to review the medical history of the kids coming in and was going to be busy for most of it. He couldn’t explain how three days without you here made everything seem so dull.

“I missed you too. It’s rare to see an alternative person out here in these woods. We typically get preppy people or weirdos,” you mumbled, leaning into his shoulder to talk. He could feel his brain short circuiting at the feeling of your soft body pressing against his. He couldn’t help taking a deeper breath and you smelled just as good as he remembered. He hopes your scent rubs off on his shirt so he can continue to smell you.

Camp Counselor Choso who realizes that he may be one of the weirdos.

Camp Counselor Choso and you become almost inseparable the rest of the training. During the third tour of the different places, you guys walked side by side as you told him about the different medicals you got from different spots. When lunch came, you took him to the lake to tell him about the best places to take the kids to see the most fishes. Then for the last day, you actually gave him a hug and told him you’ll definitely be seeing him soon.

Camp Counselor Choso who is confused why someone is knocking at his cabin door so late at night. He ignored his bunkmates who told him to ignore it, but something in his gut told him to answer. He opened the door to see you standing there in an oversized shirt that fell off your shoulder and a pair of night pants.

Camp Counselor Choso doesn’t even get to question you as you put a finger to his lips to shush him and reach for his hand. He lets you drag him away from the cabin into the woods. It was only 3 minutes into the silent walk that Choso realized that he didn’t know where he’s going and that all it took to get him into the woods alone was a pretty person grabbing his hand.

You stopped moving once you reached a clearing that had a small pond in the center. “I thought you would like this, Choso.” He couldn’t believe his eyes as the field seemed to be alive as fireflies danced all around in the grass. The pond reflected the moonlight giving everything a serenity vibe.

“It’s… wow,” is all Camp Counselor Choso manages to get out of his mouth. He looked back at you to see that you were already staring at him. The pale moonlight made you look heavenly. A small smile came to your lips as you silently clapped, seemingly pleased that he liked it.

“Would you think I’m a weirdo if I wanted to kiss you right now?”

You stopped moving as you looked up at him. He watched as you took a step towards him until only a breath of air stood between you. “Would I be a weirdo if I wanted you to?”

Camp Counselor Choso who didn’t waste another moment. His hand reached towards your face to gently hold your face as he leaned in towards you. He gave the smallest peck, almost as if hesitant. You let out a pleased hum and that was the greenlight. His lips pressed firmly against yours as if trying to mold himself into you.

Camp Counselor Choso who couldn’t get enough of you. You broke away to gasp for air, but he still needed you. His lisp trailed down your face until he settled on your neck. A groan left his lip as your scent flooded his mind and clouded everything. He used his hand to lean your neck further to the side to give himself more access. The groan that left your lip would be playing in his mind forever.

Camp Counselor Choso who realized that he was thoroughly wrapped around your finger, especially when you make the sweetest sounds under his hand.

Camp Counselor Choso who the next day is staring down at his little brother, tired beyond belief from the lack of sleep. He felt bad that he completely forgot the main reason he joined this camp. Although, looking over to see the nurse meeting parents with a turtleneck and a limp made him see a very good second reason to keep coming back.

#choso kamo #jjk choso #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso jjk #kamo choso #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso fluff #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x y/n #choso kamo x reader #choso #choso kamo fluff

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zorosunwashedleftcheek · 4 months ago

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Like a Rodeo

Pairings: Zoro x Reader

Summary: What’s Zoro’s favorite position?

cw: f!Reader, NSFW, dirty talk, riding

a/n: Originally I was going to do a collection of OP men and their favorite position but lowkey I got lazy so maybe I’ll do more in the future, if so, who do you want to see?

Hear me out now…

✨Riding✨

As a swordsman, he is constantly aware of what and who his back is facing towards. It’s been engrained in him since he was a young child to never leave area unguarded.

And as much as he trusts you, there’s nothing stopping an enemy from breaking down the door and stabbing him in the back while he’s balls deep in your cunt.

You’re the one who proposed the idea… and he shot it down immediately. He saw it as relinquishing control and hated the idea with every once of his being.

So after a few night of thinking, he begrudgingly made his way to your quarters and muttered something along the lines of, “I guess we can try it if you really want…”

And it’s been smooth sailing ever since. He still had complete control, one hand constantly gripping your hips to guide your pace. And he was able to pay attention to you fully and completely.

Riding quickly became his go to.

~ He tastes of sake.

It’s as if he’s trying to consume you, his tongue jamming down your throat and his teeth clacking against yours. Zoro took everything he didn’t the extreme, and kissing was no different. He may not be super experienced or skilled, but he was hungry, and that more than made up for it.

“C’mere…” Zoro wraps an arm around your waist and drags you down onto the bed, rolling you on top of him and running his hands up and down your bare legs. You’re wearing a skirt… far too small for his liking. And watching you dance and twirl with others all night pissed him off. Sure, Zoro denied your numerous offers to dance, but that didn’t mean that another man could fucking dip you, your head nearly touching the ground.

Now the two of you are alone on the Thousand Sunny, the night too young for the other Strawhats to retreat.

Zoro kicks off his pants and boxers in a swift movement, his cock sliding out to rest against his stomach, precum beading the tip. He looks up at you expectantly, a stupid smirk on his lips.

God, you hate that you know exactly what he wants.

Zoro grabs your skirt, bunching it up around your waist to watch as you hover above him, you fingers hooking in your panties to pull them aside. He licks his lips at the sight of your pretty pussy, a small string of arousal connecting your food to the fabric of your underwear.

His hand slides to up and down your thigh before he brings his thumb down to your clit. He rubs small circles around the pearl, watching with amused eyes as you suck in a harsh breath, your face flushing as you lick your lips.

“Put it in?” You ask softly, bracing your palms on Zoro’s bare shoulders and rocking your hips forward to rub against Zoro’s length. His mouth twitches and he curses softly under his breath.

Your nose wrinkles at his expression, he’s looking at you as though you’d asked the dumbest question he’d ever heard. You huff, but lift yourself off of him. Grabbing his twitching cock and giving it a few good pumps to spread his precum across his length.

Zoro twists his hand in your hair and tugs your down for a kiss, his teeth scraping against your bottom lip. You’re dizzy just from his mouth, it’s astounding how you’re ever able to survive his cock.

You can hear Zoro hiss into your mouth as you slowly yet surely suck him inside of you. He’s snug inside of you, his tip scraping your walls with each small movement.

“Fuck… you’re good.” Zoro murmur quietly, breaking the kiss to watch your pussy eagerly suck him in, you’re hips shimmying to accommodate his cock as it bullies its way into you.

“Zoro…” You groan softly, leaning back to brace a hand on his thigh, your back arching towards him, your tits laying tantalizingly close to his face.

“You want it? Yeah, I gotcha, just hold on.” Zoro plants his feet on the mattress, one large, calloused hand moving to grab your hip while the other paws at your breast, squeezing and rolling your areola. between his thumb and forefinger. “Use those pretty thighs and help me out, how about it?”

Zoro starts out with a brutal pace, never one to ease into anything. He enjoys the feel of your nails biting into his thigh while the other rests on his navel to brace yourself. Your face is all screwed up, your nose wrinkled and your lips parted as he drills into you. You work to match his pace, but you don’t contribute much. It’s alright though, Zoro likes it that way. He loves having complete control, adjusting how fast you move and how deep you take it. His favorite thing to do is grab your hips and hold you up until just his tip is inside of you, and then he watches you squirm and roll your hips, searching for the rest of his cock to fill you up.

Zoro leans forward, sucking your tit into his mouth and pressing searing kisses and bites down the valley of your chest.

Your eyes meet his piercing grey gaze and he can feel your pussy flutter around him. God, everything god you wet, didn’t it?

Your brows furrow, a pout making its way onto your face as you pant, strangled whines and moans slipping past your lips.

He has to end this quick before he accidentally cums first.

Zoro wraps an arm around your back, tugging your chest down again him. His lips attach to your shoulder as he adjusts his hips, allowing him to hit your g-spot.

He continues to bite and suck along your neck and shoulder while his eyes focus on your thighs watching them twitch and shudder as your ass bounces up and down with each thrust.

“You… gonna cum?” Zoro chokes out as he feels you clamp down around him. It’s more of a statement than a question. He’s fucked you enough times to know your body better than he knows his. Snaking a hand down to grope and massage your thigh, he drops his head back once again, willing his orgasm away for a few more moments.

Zoro’s wasn’t one to talk during sex. He was way too concentrated to try and string together sentences. But he knew that you absolutely adored the sound of his voice, the way it would drop an octave when he was aroused. And in emergency’s he knew that his voice could bring you to the edge.

You give a small, weak nod, a whine tumbling out of your lips, “Fuck… yeah… ‘m gonna cum, Zoro. You’re gonna make me cum… please…”

His lips quirks at your needy voice, god you were so sweet to him. “The hell’s stopping you? I wanna feel you cream my cock.”

His words did unimaginable things to you, the low rasp could bring you straight to the edge. Within moments your gummy walls are clamping down around him as your grind your hips roughly down against his throbbing cock.

“Ah… shit, baby… I can’t-“ You coo weakly, burrowing your face against Zoro’s neck as he continues to rock your hips, his navel bumping against your clit with each steady movement, causing your thighs to twitch and sharp hisses to escape your lips.

Zoro does his best to ease you through your orgasm, but eventually he has to hoist you off of his cock and set you down on his thighs. He grabs his cock, finally allowing his orgasm to roll through his body. Zoro’s eyes squeeze shut, his body tensing as he shoots hot ropes of cum onto your stomach. He can feel the evidence of your orgasm dribbling out of your leaking pussy and pooling on his thighs.

“Fuck you’re so messy…” He drawls as a wrack of pleasure shoots down his spine.

The two of you lay in your mess, dozing in and out of sleep until your eventually grow uncomfortable, your mixed cum beginning to dry on both of yours’ body. Zoro didn’t seem to mind in the least, his muscled arms wrapped tightly around your body, keeping you trapped as he snores softly.

“…Zoro.” You huff, tapping his cheek.

No response.

“Zoro.”

Nothing.

“Zoro!”

“I feel gross. Let’s shower.”

“I don’t need a shower, I’ll wipe myself off with a towel or something.”

“God, you’re gross.” Sitting up on Zoro’s chest, you glare down at him. “Come on, just keep me company at least.”

“How about you ask the guy you were dancing with to shower with you.” Zoro grumbles, turning his head to the side to avoid your annoyed gaze.

“You’re mad about that? You’re so stupid. Dancing doesn’t have to be romantic.”

Zoro scowls at your insult, “You’re the stupid one, that guy’s dick was practically waving in the wind and begging for a hug when you asked to dance with him.”

You glare at his expression, but there’s no real heat behind it, that hungry look in his eyes has returned, his nah seemingly replenishing his energy. Perhaps there was only one way to get him clean.

“Shower sex.”

“Deal.”

#zoro x reader #one piece zoro #zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #one piece #op x reader #one piece imagine #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece x you #x reader #smut

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kkatsukiss · 1 year ago

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ugghhhhhhh thinking about how you n katsu continuously go back to each other… no matter how many years it’s been…

content warnings: swearing, smut (phone sex kinda?), mentions of fingering & blowjob; not proof read!

—

it’s been on and off since grade school, you’ve dated people, he’s dated people but you’ve never dated each other. and when you’re in a relationship and he’s single, he needs to be removed and when he’s in a relationship and you’re single, you have to be removed — you can’t trust yourself with katsuki in your phone and neither can he. it’s a constant cycle and you know when it’s about to happen after you’ve just broken up with your boyfriend of a year.

first it’s katsuki adding you on socials again, liking your posts and then it’s:

bakugou katsuki added you on snapchat!

that’s when you know the cycle is about to begin once more. you try to resist adding him back, and he waits patiently because he knows that you can’t resist him. hell, if he was in your position he wouldn’t be able to resist you over the phone, much less if he saw you in person.

what starts off as a few snapchats here and there turns into snapping every single day and then it’s conversations catching up…

and then it’s provocative photos of you in your skimpy little pj set, sending him the perfect angle for him to snap you back immediately with a shirtless photo and one thing leads to the next, he’s sending you videos of him stroking his pretty cock that has you clenching your thighs at the sight.

suddenly, you’re having flashbacks about the time you fucked katsuki at a house party. both too drunk to remember, but boy, was it good. the way that his cock fit so perfect and snug up against your gummy walls with each thrust — it was engrained into your memory.

next thing you know, you’re sending him videos of you playing with your pussy, but not showing him all of it because of course, what’s the fun in that? you love the effect you have on him as he loves the effect he has on you… unbeknownst to you, he manages to catch that small little whimper as you glide your blue vibrator over your swollen clit.

“y/n, oh my fucking god,”

“your moan is so perfect,”

“i wanna hear that in my ear while i fuck your pretty pussy,“

he tells you exactly what you want to hear and you know he’s doing it to get what he wants.

he’s telling you how he missed that time senior year of highschool where you gave him the best head of his life and had him shaking and that he wants nothing more than to eat your pretty pussy out until you cream all over his face after you tell him your ex boyfriend never ate you out…

maybe another chance won’t hurt?

—

guys this was SO self indulgent. pls. (i kinda wanna make this a series)

#— sof.writes!#bakugou katsuki #katsuki smut #katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader smut #bakugou #bakugou smut #bakugo katsuki smut #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha #mha smut #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #katsukibakugou #bakugo smut

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melobin · 9 months ago

Note

hello melo!! omg this is my first ask i've been following you for the longest time and i love all your work so much! ❤️ i hope you are doing wel ❤️ saw that you are asking for some full group headcanon inspo! how about some nipple play with riize where they are obsessed with their partner's pierced nipples! (nipple piercings are so hot especially when u can see through tight fitting clothes 🥵) i can totally see eunseok and anton going crazy just from seeing their pierced nipples! partner with no bra and in a cute cropped baby tee 🫠

hi cutie <3 i appreciate that !! i hope you’re doing well too !!

nipple play with riize ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

shotaro

shotaro is a nipple sucker, he loves sucking on them during foreplay. he likes how relaxed you get when he does it, the way your fingers run through his hair and how your back arches up into his touch. could spend hours there if he didn’t end up painfully hard because of it. he’s quite fond of burying his head between them when he gets close to cumming, it’s either in your neck or between your tits and he often picks the latter because of the comfort it brings. he likes laying on them when he’s falling asleep too.

eunseok

eunseok loves to squeeze your nipples. he does it mainly to watch you wince and squirm, he thinks you’re cute when you’re whining for him. he loves having his hands on your tits, loves bringing his fingers down to flick over your nipple between holding it between his fingers and rubbing it, pinching it just to hear you whimper and feel you buck your hips against his. he really wants to make you cum just by nipple stimulation but he’s still working out what gets you going the most. a nipple piercing would also ruin eunseok, especially if he could see it through your shirt. he’d end up hard on the spot and he’d just want the image engrained in his mind forever.

sungchan

sungchan loved watching your tits as he fucks you. he loves the way your nipples harden and your tits bounce with each sharp thrust into you, he’s always reaching forward to take one in his hand, sometimes even slapping it before hand just to hear you moan a little louder. if you had a nipple piercing it would literally be the end of sungchan. he’s find it the hottest thing and he’d do all he can to have you in positions that have him the best access to your tits. he’s obsessed with having you ride him just so he can take your nipple into his mouth and flick his tongue over the piercing.

wonbin

wonbin is one of the biggest titty lovers in riize, he’s obsessed with them and he’s equally obsessed with nipple play. one of the first things you learned about staying with wonbin was that wearing a bra around him was pointless due to the fact it would always end up off and would be placed by his hands, his fingers seem to always find their way to your tits, your nipples being pinched and sucked on each time the two of you cuddle. wonbin would lose his mind if you had a nipple piercing too, he’d be itching to get his hands on you the moment he finds out you have one and the wait for it to heal would be complete agony for him, but once it’s healed and okay he wouldn’t let go of it. he’d love the feel of the metal against his tongue when he takes your nipple into his mouth and he’d be obsessed with how much more sensitive you are because of it. it’s something he uses to his advantage too, when he’s feeling a little meaner there has been times he’s slapped your tits just to watch you wince and cry out as he fucks deep into. the concept of it being too painful for you worried him at first but once he realised you were arching your back and pressing your chest up to him he knew you loved the pain that it brought.

seunghan

seunghan loves when you sit on his lap without your shirt on, especially if you’re in a cute little skirt too. will sit there and tell you how pretty you are whilst squeezing your breast in his hand, running his thumb over your nipple and squeezing it a little just so you sigh into his mouth. he wants to bring you as much pleasure as possible so his mouth always ends up around your nipple whilst his fingers are pressing against your clit over your underwear, wants to make you as wet as possible and he knows sucking on your nipples and playing with them will do that. he’d find a nipple piercing so hot, i can’t help but think he’d love to get matching ones with you ..

sohee

sohee is mesmerised by your tits most of the time, his eyes are always creeping down to them no matter what. he just thinks they’re so pretty and kissable and he needs to have his mouth on them whenever he can. cuddling with sohee always ends with his hand under your shirt and his fingers messing with your nipples, might end up making them sore with how much he plays with them but always kisses them better afterwards. he’d be even worse if you had a nipple piercing, there’d be no point in ever wearing a shirt around him when you’re alone together.

anton

anton is the other titty lover of riize and he would lose every bit of sanity he has if he found out you had a nipple piercing. there’s just something so hot about you having such a secret piercing, in a place only he gets to see. he’d love running his tongue over the metal and hearing you sigh, wants to suck on your tits until you’re grinding up against him and pulling at his hair. he’d always unintentionally focus more on the one that’s pierced, if you have both pierced then he’d be in agony trying to figure out which to go for first. in general he’d just be obsessed with your tits, he has reoccurring dreams of slipping his cock between them and fucking you until he’s making a mess all over you but he has had the guts to ask you for it yet.

#✧ melody answers #✧ anon #✧ hard hours ✧#riize smut #shotaro smut #eunseok smut #sungchan smut #wonbin smut #seunghan smut #sohee smut #anton smut

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azzibuckets · 11 months ago

Text

this isn’t the end or anything part 3 [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

a/n: this is probably my favorite series i’ve ever written so i like to take my time writing each part. apologies for the wait!

word count: 1.7k

masterlist

“Seat taken?”

Paige hovers over the fifth row of seats on the bus, mouth going dry as she anticipates Azzi’s answer. She doesn’t really know what she’s doing; she didn’t board the bus planning to be stupid and try to sit next to Azzi, but when she saw how pretty the younger girl looked all bundled up in her beanie and overcoat, she knew she had to at least try.

Azzi doesn’t look up from her phone. “You know I’m not gonna talk to you.”

“That’s fine.”

Azzi sighs, and after a moment’s hesitation she picks up her backpack from the seat next to her, setting it on the floor instead. Trying to fight back a smile, Paige plops down and casts a quick glance at Azzi’s phone, wondering if the younger girl’s fixation to her screen the past few days is due to a new love interest. When Azzi doesn’t seem to notice her prying eyes, Paige moves a little bit closer, craning her neck to try to decipher who exactly Azzi is texting.

All of a sudden, Azzi looks up, making eye contact with Paige as the blonde quickly sits back with a guilty look on her face.

“Seriously?” Azzi says irritatedly.

“Sorry,” Paige replies meekly, knowing that it’s pointless to deny the obvious.

Azzi shakes her head before shutting off her phone and staring intensely out the window. Paige knows she should be more upset about Azzi’s coldness towards her, especially after what she admitted two nights ago, but right now she’s just happy to be in Azzi’s presence. And although being crammed in a bus surrounded by their teammates and coaches isn’t the most optimal privacy, it’s the closest they’ve gotten to being alone since that night and Paige is willing to take whatever she gets.

“You know I like you, right?” Once the words come out and Paige realizes what she’s just said, she fights the urge to clamp her hand over her own mouth.

Azzi’s head snaps up.

Paige shifts in her seat. She knows she’s probably going about this wrong, but the words she’s said to Azzi months ago is still weighing on her mind, and technically Azzi can’t go anywhere when she’s trapped between her and the window. So she forges on. “You said you needed space.”

“No, you said you needed space,” Azzi says evenly.

Paige rubs her eyes. “Okay, so we both said we needed space.”

Azzi is silent.

“I just…I miss you, you know? And I’ve figured out my feelings, and I don’t want space anymore.”

Azzi folds her arms over herself, as if she’s trying to burrow into herself and disappear completely. “I don’t wanna talk about this right now.”

“Can we talk about it later?”

“I don’t know.”

“Azzi-,”

“I’m not ready, Paige, okay?” Azzi’s voice is tired, and Paige doesn’t like it, doesn’t like how Azzi doesn’t just seem tired, she seems tired of her.

“Okay.” A beat. “I’m sorry.”

Azzi tips her head back and exhales slowly. “Not your fault.”

“I can switch seats, if you’re uncomfortable.”

“You’re fine.”

Paige wants to throw up. This is why she hasn’t tried approaching Azzi - no contact with her is better then whatever this awkward tension is. Paige can feel her sinuses tightening, her throat closing, that familiar feeling pricking at the corner of her eyes. But she can’t cry, not now, when there’s five hours of road ahead of them. So she puts in her airpods and tries to think of everything but Azzi. She fails.

•••••••••••••

“I don’t care about what’s going on off the court, but you better get your shit together. I didn’t make you captain for no goddamn reason.”

Geno slams the door on his way out. He’s furious, and Paige is too. 10 points, 3 assists and 5 turnovers. She knows it’s not about the stats, that Geno cares more about her effort and the way she seemed to just give up during the last quarter. But the numbers are engrained into her brain, and the persistent ache at the back of her head is throbbing now. She tries to reflect on the game, to recall the moments she’d slipped up, the moments she’d gotten too comfortable. But despite the sweat still fresh on her neck, the memories are foggy and she feels dizzy just thinking about it.

Paige’s phone lights up with a text from Nika asking her if she’s going to the bar with the rest of the team, but she ignores it. Alcohol would make her headache worse, and all she wants to do right now is lie in her bed and mourn over how bad she played. She knows it’s not a healthy way to cope. Azzi used to always get on her ass about how getting in her own head wouldn’t make it better. Azzi would force Paige out of bed, set up a laptop with film to go over every single play, both of them writing notes on their observations and then sharing it at the end. By the time their debrief finished, Paige always felt lighter, determined and ready for the next practice now with a new list of things to work on. But Azzi wasn’t here, and now Paige was spiraling.

When she gets back to her hotel room, Paige slumps into clean white sheets. She knows she should respond to her teammates’ messages, but before she knows it she’s out.

•••••••••••••••••

“You look hot tonight,” Amari cheers, hip bumping her friend.

Azzi blushes, hands smoothing down her top. “Thank you.” She looks around the bar, trying to enjoy the lively atmosphere after their tough win, but a pit of guilt settles in the bottom of her stomach when she thinks about Paige. Their teammates assumed that Paige had fallen asleep by her lack of response to their texts, but Azzi knew better than that. She felt physically sick thinking of Paige huddled in her room all alone while the rest of them were out celebrating.

Before she knows it, she’s left the bar and she’s back at the hotel, hand reaching out to knock. When she finally summons her courage to give a couple short raps on the door, a groggy Paige opens the door. Surprise flickers across her face before she straightens up. “Azzi?” Her voice is subdued with sleep, soft, a little bit hoarse.

Azzi takes in Paige’s bloodshot eyes and red nose. “You look like shit.”

Paige harrumphs. “Thanks.”

Without an invitation, Azzi barrels through the door, pretending to be curious about the layout of the room when hers is the exact same. “You didn’t come tonight.”

“Yeah, sorry. Wasn’t feeling it.” Paige goes back to her bed and wraps the blanket around herself.

“Did you eat yet?”

Paige shakes her head.

“Do you want me to order anything?”

Another shake of the head. “Not hungry.”

“You haven’t eaten in 12 hours, you have to eat something.”

Paige finally looks up, making eye contact with Azzi. “Stop,” she says, her tone worn out, her voice a little rough at the edges. “Stop pretending like you care about me.”

Azzi’s veins turn ice cold. “What?”

“I know you can’t stand me anymore. I was fucking delusional thinking that forcing you to sit next to me on the bus would change anything. But it’s fine.” Paige lies down and rolls over with her back to her best friend, hoping that Azzi won’t be able to sense the fact that she’s about to burst into tears. “I took some Nyquil. I’ll be good. You can go.”

There’s silence, and Paige closes her eyes, willing herself to hold back her tears for just a few more seconds. But the bed dips, and the touch on her face is so light and gentle that she thinks she’s dreaming before Azzi speaks. “I care about you. You don’t think I care about you? Christ, Paige, you’re all I ever think about.”

The tears slip out of her eyes, and Paige curses herself for being weak. She can’t even keep herself together for one goddamn minute. “Then why are we still like this? We can’t even talk to each other without being normal.”

“I told you, I’m not ready yet, Paige.”

“Will you ever be?”

When Azzi doesn’t respond, Paige sobs harder. She feels Azzi go in to wipe her tears, but she jerks away before the younger girl can reach her. Paige’s heart is already breaking into a thousand little pieces, and feeling Azzi’s touch would make this so much harder than it already is. “Can you please just leave?”

Azzi’s face falls. “Paige, you’re burning up and have a fever, I’m not leaving you.”

“You’re only gonna make this worse.” Paige knows she’s ugly crying now, but she can’t help it. She’s angry and she’s sad and she’s hurt, and Azzi is so close, so close yet so far away.

“You’re sick and you-,”

“Azzi, please just leave me alone.” And Paige doesn’t mean for her words to come out so harsh, but seeing Azzi sitting there forlornly with that look in her eyes is killing her inside, and she can’t take it anymore.

Azzi stands up, pain written all over her face. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“You already did.” Paige turns around, and she has a cold sense of deja vu. She’s been in this exact situation before, her lying on the bed while Azzi leaves. But this time, she’s the one who’s asked her to go, and Paige didn’t know how it could get worse from that night all those months ago but it somehow fucking has.

Despite the physical exhaustion from the game and the emotional turmoil from the day, Paige can’t fall asleep. When she hears a knock on the door a couple hours later, she half hopes it’s Azzi, but when she opens the door it’s just an Uber delivery man. “Chicken noodle soup from Frazo’s for Paige?”

“I didn’t order this.”

“Uh, well it says the person who ordered this is an Azzi Fudd? She ordered it to this room. Do you know her?”

Paige looks tiredly at the man. “No.”

The man furrows his eyebrows. “Um, well...”

“You can just take it. Free dinner, yay. Here’s a 20 for the trouble.” Paige shoves the bill into the man’s hand and closes the door. She leans on the counter with her face in her hands, a million questions running through her mind. She doesn’t understand why Azzi is so hot and cold. Why Azzi still can’t figure out her feelings after months and months of space. Why Azzi can’t just love her back. She curses, wishing she’d never met the dark haired girl in the first place. But then she thinks about Azzi’s smile, and she takes it back.

Christ. Everything hurts. Paige thought she knew heartbreak when her seventh grade crush turned out to be straight, but this is different. This is all-consuming. It’s like every cell of her body knows she’s missing something. Her heart physically hurts. Head pounding, nose sniffling, eyes watering, Paige lies down on the floor, wishing the granite would absorb her.

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi #uconnwbb #paige x azzi #angst #fic #paige bueckers x azzi fudd #wcbb

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