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slttygeto · 7 months

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SWEAR IT’S JUST RIGHT FOR YOU. | NANAMI. K

જ⁀➴ synopsis: when you and nanami are equally as obsessed with each other, it creates this perfect balance. you cook for him, and he treats your pussy like it’s a blessing.

જ⁀➴word count: 3,3k

જ⁀➴ c.w: pure filth with a bit of fluff, soft dom! nanami, he turns a bit rough towards the end, rough facefucking, cunnilingus + fingering, dirty talk + praise, riding, multiple orgasms + squirting.

When Nanami praises you, it’s soft, gentle and endearing. His rough palm gently collides with the soft skin of your jaw and his thumb traces your cheek. He is reminding you of how much you mean to him, how he would burn the entire world if it meant keeping you safe and protected. You are his fairy, his delicate girl whom he could never imagine even raising his voice at. When he scolds you, his voice is stern and filled with worry despite the displeased tone, his hand grabs at your shoulder not to hurt you, and you want to caress your thumb over his forehead and get him to stop furrowing his eyebrows so deeply.

“You’ll get wrinkles, Ken.” Your voice pulls him out of his displeased state for a moment, and Kento hears birds chirping outside of the window and the sunbeam caresses your skin—It hits your beautiful eyes and he takes in every detail; your eyebrows, the slight discoloration the bottom of your jaw, the mole that seems to bring out the beauty in you even more, your eyelashes that aren’t curled but naturally have a pretty shape to them and he heaves out a sigh. He is consumed by love wherever you are near.

Heaven knows how much the man craved domesticity. He found comfort in it—a routine, a promise that when he comes home, he gets to take off his brown shoes at the front door, put his keys in the small bowl that has a mirror hanging right above it. He would then look at his reflection in the mirror and look away immediately when he notices the sweat stains as he removes his jacket. He hears your footsteps as you rush out of the kitchen with a pretty apron around your waist. You made bread, and Nanami isn’t sure whether to be infatuated by the smell of it, or the smell of your hair that hits his nostrils as you wrap your arms around his waist.

He wouldn’t care that your hair is slightly damp, but he would breathe out how the tank top you were wearing was going to get you sick if you don’t watch out. And Kento cares a lot about your comfort, he respects you a lot, so when you hug his sweaty self, his hands would gently try to remove your arms from around him and protest that he was dirty.

“It’s all hard work, Ken. I like it.” To which he wouldn’t say much but give in and let you hold him. He understands that to an extent, having a natural smell like this was attractive, he’s always told you that he likes it when you come home complaining about sweating too much and all he says is that it makes you even more attractive. Your flushed cheeks, your hair sticking up in small antennas, your nose scrunching up at how disgusting it feels to have your shirt cling onto your skin—

“Can I join you in the shower?” Which always catches you off guard, but you accept of course and Nanami sets his book down, he removes his glass and folds them neatly on top of the book before following right behind you in the bathroom. You giggle nervously when you see him close the door and lock it before leaning against it, and you let out a small and timid ‘what?’ when he keeps eyeing with the same intense eyes.

“You are beautiful.” He never denies that he is looking at you—admiring you, but instead reminds you every time that nothing in the world can change his mind about his infatuation with you.

And somewhere in between that comforting thought of coming home to you, a show playing on TV in the living room, bread baking in the oven and the smell of a clean home—Nanami dreams of fucking you stupid on the couch. He wouldn’t remove your apron, he wouldn’t let you wash your hands off of the flour—he would simply drop his pants, push your shorts down and spread your legs only to find out that you weren’t wearing any panties.

He feels sick to his stomach at thought, sighs and rubs his forehead at the fact that he was imagining such dirty things to do with you. If it were a normal fantasy like coming home and fucking you on the bed, he wouldn’t feel that bad. But that was the thing about fantasies, they existed in our head without our control, and it was up to us to act out on them or not. Kento cherished you too much to scare you off with his oh-so-called sick and twisted fantasy of his.

He comes home after a long day at work, and it’s a few minutes past seven. The house isn’t quiet, there is a show playing in the background and that was the first thing that had Kento stop dead in his tracks. He chooses to brush it off and simply rids himself of his jacket and shoes, sets his keys on the bowl before the smell of bread hits his nostrils and his lips part in confusion.

Was he dreaming? Did he somehow astral project into another dimension where his fantasy was a reality? It only confuses him further when you come out of the kitchen wearing an apron—in this reality though, you’ve chosen to wear one of his shirts instead, and Nanami doesn’t know if it’s better or worse. He tries to hide it, the way he can feel his cock hardening in his pants as you approach him with his shirt, fuzzy socks and hands that had traces of flour on them.

“You’re home.” Is how you greet him, your cheek resting on his chest and melting against his body as you breathe in his scent, a constant reminder that you get to be greeted with this sight five times a week around the same time. You boyfriend’s hand travels up to the back of your head and his fingers comb through your hair as he hums a tired response.

“Did you miss me?” Obviously, is what you want to say. But instead, when you look up at him and notice his hooded eyes, you feel his other rest on the small of your back and your heart leaps in your chest. All of a sudden, you feel hot and you feel something poking at you and you’re just surprised.

It was normal for your boyfriend to have needs, you were used to the sexual frustration that comes with having such a stressful job—but normally, Kento would avoid initiating anything with you until he’s showered and made sure he was clean. For him to insinuate that he wanted you, and so loudly with those eyes—you could feel your panties getting ruined.

“Pretty girl,” he calls out for you again when he notices your silence and the hand resting on your waist holds your chin whilst the other firmly grabs your hair. “Did you miss me?” He asks again, stern and you nod. You missed him too much, you realize. Because the lack of conversation beside greeting him and telling him he’s home—all of it was intensifying the sexual tension. It was almost like your body was warning you that Kento wasn’t going to go easy on you this time and you felt jittery.

“I missed you, Kento. Did you miss me?” You say as your hands grab onto his blouse in fists. You bring him closer to you, and gasp when you feel his hand travel down to hold your neck. He isn’t trying to cut your air, but when you make eye contact with him and see that his face has darkened, you let out a small noise.

“Let me show you instead.”

On the couch, Nanami wastes no time to attach his lips to yours and kiss you breathless. He was such a good kisser, always so passionate, always making sure to tease the corner of your lips before biting nibbling here and there—and fuck, did he lose his mind every time you tried to suck on his tongue. He would just push you on your back and cage you between his strong arms.

Nanami feels like he is constantly losing his breath whenever you are near, but when you grab onto his forearms and moan, he goes feral. Suddenly, he is reminded of how much weaker you are compared to him—frail, delicate, soft and sensitive to his touch. He is lucky, he is blessed and he makes sure to spoil you and that pretty pussy.

His kisses trail all the way down from your neck to your collarbones, his takes a whiff of your perfume and hums.

“You smell so sweet,” he mumbles against your skin. Instead of removing your apron and shirt, he pushes them up to reveal the cute panties that you were wearing and his finger traces the wet patch that’s already formed.

“Kento,” you call out to your boyfriend breathless, desperate—as though you were on a deserted island and he was the water to quench your thirst. Your legs spread on instinct for the man to settle between them and you feel his hot breath right against your panties.

“But you smell even better here… Right here,” he says and he pushes your panties to the side to reveal the wet mess hiding behind the fabric. You prop yourself up a bit higher to be able to look at Nanami while he eats you out, and you blush when you notice that he’s already staring at you.

“Up.” He pats your ass and you lift up your hips to allow him to remove your panties for you, but instead of throwing them on the floor, you see him take a whiff of the fabric and sigh and your blush darkens.

“Can I keep these, my love?” He asks sweetly, voice so deep you felt like your pussy was embarrassing you with how wet it was and you mindlessly nod. “Is that so?” He knew you wouldn’t say no, but he still wanted to thank you for trusting him with his perverted intentions.

“You’re too good for me.” Is the last thing that you hear from him before he dives between your legs and fuck—he is too good. You know Nanami is good, you don’t doubt that he can make you cum as many times as he wants before reaching his own high, but something about him eating your pussy like a treat, enjoying every drop and sucking on your clit with the intention of making you lose your mind—that was too much.

You feel his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks before smothering his face in your pussy. His nose nudges at your clit while his tongue licks at your folds and you think that for a moment, maybe he is enjoying this more than you do. His hands grip your thighs to keep them in place, and when he notices that your legs are starting to shake and your hips are bucking up, he takes one look at you and his dick almost bursts.

Flushed chest, swollen lips and a fucked out face. If Nanami wasn’t already in love with your beauty, then he feels himself falling deeper for you. You fall apart on his tongue a couple of seconds later, he enjoys the way you gasp, moan and cry as he keeps his lips attached to your clit and you try to push his head away.

“Too much,” you gasp. “Kento!” you cry out when you feel his two fingers nudge at your folds and by this point, you are breathing too hard. You feel his thick finger prod at that one spongy spot almost immediately and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He presses a hand to your stomach and praises are spilling from his lips like a chant, watching as your soul almost escaped your body with every thrust of his thick fingers perfectly against your spot.

“That’s right baby, you’re doing so good,” “this pussy takes me so well,” “you make me so proud, look at this pussy—fucking filthy,”

The mixture of praise and him losing his composure and cursing has you reaching your orgasm again faster than expected. But this time, you make a bit of a mess and you try to apologize for ruining the couch and his clothes but he is quick to shut you up with his lips.

“You’ve just squirted on me, and you want to apologize?” he mumbles against your cheek, fingers still buried inside you and you whine.

“I made a mess,” you try to reason with your beast of a boyfriend but he quickly retreats his fingers back and delivers a harsh smack to your pussy.

“It’s never been a problem when it’s our bed, has it?”

“Kento,” you call out softly when your boyfriend starts to kiss at your neck again. “Kento, fuck my mouth.” Nanami’s brain short circuits at this and the shock is evident on his features. He doesn’t have time to stop you or protest because you are quick to get off the couch and on your knees for him.

“You’ve been so good to me, keeping me satisfied and happy—I bet you want to fuck my mouth sometimes, don’t you?” Your hands are quickly unbuckling his belt. You don’t remove his pants completely, only enough to free his painfully hard cock from his boxers. Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and you watch as he throws his head back on the couch with each slow stroke.

“You don’t know what you are asking for,” is what he says as he tries to get you to back out of this, but you are determined to let him ruin your life. Him, the only man on this planet whom you would blindly trust with your life.

“I know what I am asking for.”

“I could hurt you,”

“I will tap your thigh if you do,” and then there’s a few moments of silence where Kento just stares deeply into your eyes. When you see him lean down towards you, your breath catches in your throat and your lips part in shock when his hand goes to the back of your head and the other one grips your jaw open.

“Open up.” And when you do, he rests the fat tip of his cock on your tongue. The pre-cum is a bit salty but you don’t say anything as you let Kento handle your mouth to his liking. He tells you to open up a bit more and breathe before he starts to thrust his dick in and out of your mouth at a slow pace.

You’re taking it well at first, but when you notice your boyfriend’s thighs shaking, indicating that he is holding back on you, you decide to take matters into your own hands. Quite literally.

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and you push his dick down your throat, nose nuzzling against his pubes and he curses out loud.

“Fuck--!” You repeat the same motion over and over again, and by the third time, your boyfriend finally breaks and starts fucking your mouth like a starved man. Your knees burn, and so do your lungs—the couch is moving every time Kento brings your head back on his cock and you’ve braced yourself on his thighs for support.

“Sorry—fuck, I’m sorry baby,” he says between gritted teeth. However, when his eyes catch that you’re rubbing your swollen clit to the same rhythm of your head on his cock, something in him snaps.

He pushes you off of his cock, and any complaint you head is drowned out when he stands up and his cock stands proud. You look up at him from your spot on the floor and brace yourself on his thighs again when you feel him grab your face and push his cock inside your mouth.

“Filthy fucking girl,” he breathes out. “Can’t even let me be sweet to you—shit,” based on how difficult it is to even talk properly, you guess that he is close and so you sneak a hand between his legs and starts fondling with his balls—you squeeze them, and that’s when Nanami finally breaks and cums down your throat with a broken moan.

Even while trying to catch his breath, Nanami’s hands caress your face and neck as he takes a seat and pulls you closer to him. He then helps you get back up on your feet and pulls you on his lap to kiss you. He can taste himself on your tongue even after you’ve swallowed everything.

“Was I good?” You ask when he pulls away from your lips to kiss your cheek and down your neck once again, a pattern that he’s learned always turns you into putty.

“Perfect, my love. You are perfect for me.”

You are surprised at how fast he gets hard again, but you supposed it’s also because you were literally grinding your bare pussy against his dick. Your hands hold onto his shoulders for support as you try to slip his dick past your folds, but you let out a surprised noise when he easily lifts you up and aligns the tip of his cock with your pussy.

“Noticed that you like my arms a lot,” he says and you are obliged to stare at his forearms and good lord—the way they flex as they hold you above his cock, Nanami lets out an amused chuckle when he sees a string of arousal drip directly on top of his cock. “You do like them, huh?”

“Baby,” you whimper and Kento cannot find it in him to tease you any longer. He gently drops you down on his cock and he immediately gets to work. His hand rests on the small of your back and pushes you towards him to press your chest flush against his, his hands then grip your ass cheeks and he starts to slam you up and down on his cock with so much ease.

You sound like a mess. The combination of your boyfriend’s strong arms and the tip of his thick cock abusing your spot turns you into a blabbering mess on top of him.

“So good, so good—fuck, oh fuck,” sounded like music to his ears. Your whines your moans, your fucked out look and your eyes begging him to ruin you—Nanami was addicted to every part of you.

And it only takes a few more messy and sloppy thrusts from him and you cum around him with a loud cry.

“There you go,” he says breathlessly, feeling his own orgasm creeping up on him. “Make a mess on me, baby,”

You shake like a leaf on top of him, hands gripping onto his shirt for dear life and lips pressed against his neck.

“Think you can take a bit more for me? I’m really close, darling,”

“Hurry up,” you say desperately and as promised, Kento thrusts a few more times before he is cumming inside you with a loud groan. He buries his face in your neck, taking in your scent that has now been mixed with his own and a hint of sweat. He relaxes in your hold, hand tracing the small of your back as a way to get you to come down from your orgasm and perhaps even apologize for being a bit rough with you earlier.

All of his worries are brushed off when you pull away from him to press a kiss to his forehead, his nose then down to lips.

“I love you, Ken. I love you too much,” you announce, a hint of sleepiness to your voice and a smile finds its way to his face.

“I love you too, darling. I love you too much.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

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12K notes · View notes

justaholeinmysoul · 1 year

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No but I just read a bunch of comments under a skin care video that said that skin care is labour and working your ass off to be healthy and pretty as opposed to believing that genes, class and even ethnicity have a % of matter in how your skin looks. Internet discourse got a little mixed in your little brains folks. Marx and the beauty routine.

#tbh I'm not immune with bdd to skin care videos and routines and thinking that good skin is half the beauty but #i realise that that's bs. healthy skin isn't automatically perfect or doll like or rich plastic surgery made 13 yo kpop idol #and being healthy doesn't equal a skin that doesn't have 'flaws' or shows your age #that's brainwash that is so fucking wrong #beauty standards aren't real beauty or have shit to do w health especially if they're not realistic I HATE THEM #ofc u can do whatever u want with ur body and skin but also be aware that 90% of what we do is only apparently bc u like it/want it #we don't exist in a vacuum kids say well that's true but the moment u get very aware of certain things is so infuriating #I'm talking about beauty here ok nothing but pure aesthetics ik that there are diseases me and my eczema say hi

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norrisleclercf1 · 13 days

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Have My Baby

Pairing: Mafia!Max x Reader

Words: 4.6K

Rating: R

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, slight size kink, p in v, oral (f receiving), wrap it before you tap it, dirty talk, mention of murder, etc.

Synopsis: Max wants another baby, but he'd have to convince you first.

A/N: I could cry with finally finishing this, @leclerced, @mariahcarreyyy, and @piastrification since here go babes, hope you love it, since I kept bothering y'all about it. Sorry, love ya ♥️

"Daddy, when do we go see Tante Victoria?" Max looks down and sees Casper playing with his toy cars on the floor. Max was getting ready to go into the office today, having just gotten out of the shower, and debated shaving. "Why would we go see Tante Victoria?" Max picks up the razor, still thinking it over. "Because Mama said she had a baby," Max hums, put the razor down, and moves into the closet.

He slid on his briefs and black dress pants, pulled out a belt, and weaved it through the holes. "That's right. She did have a baby, but she needs to heal first," Max explains, groaning, knees popping as he sits on the floor, joining Casper in playing cars. Are Mama and you going to have another baby?" Max chuckles, but honestly, that thought has been in his mind for a while.

Max wanted nothing more than to have a baby girl, but he needed to slowly convince you. You weren't in love when you two had Casper and Fabian—far from it. The marriage was arranged, and Max was so cold-hearted to you; the only reason the twins were born was out of the duty of needing an heir. Instead, he got two. Max slowly broke down when the boys were around five months old, and something in him changed forever.

It was maybe when someone tried to kill you three, he just snapped, and it made him aware of his feelings. Max didn't want a weakness, yet not showing it created one anyway.

Shaking his head, he leans over and kisses Casper on top of the head, who looks up with identical eyes, smiling. "Daddy, can we go wake Mama?" Max nods and stands, picking up Casper and carrying him into the bedroom. You lay there, sleeping peacefully, clutching onto Max's forgotten pillow. "Be gentle, mijn lieve engel." Casper nods and slowly crawls up, and Max smiles.

He never thought that five years after the twins were born, he would be carrying his little boy and happy at the thought of you waking up and smiling at him. "Mama, the sun is up; you should be up," Max smirks, seeing a small smile pull at your lips, fingers twitching. You probably woke when Caspian first came in and started to play on the bathroom floor while Max showered.

Casper loved being near Max, constantly surrounded by his father, and Max adored it. Fabian was always by your side; Max loved them both equally, but Casper reminded him of him when he was that age. He loved cars and wanted to be by his father. Max refuses to be like his father, but he still remembers the day he snapped at Casper, and the poor baby was terrified of him. Max still never fully forgave himself for that.

"Mama, wake up. Daddy and I need kisses." Max chuckles, moves to your side of the bed, and sits on the edge of it. Yeah, we need kisses," he whispers, giggling. You open your eyes and see your perfect boys, minus the one who loved sleep more than anything. "Well, let me pay the kiss tax then," Sitting up, you kiss Casper all over his face, turning your head. Max is quick and steals a quick kiss before kissing you again, this time slower.

"Ewwww," Casper gags, making you two giggle and pull him into a hug. "Go wake your brother," Max picks up Casper, who kicks and then runs down the hall, yelling Fabian's name. "Good morning," You breathe, and Max swoops down, stealing another kiss; you sigh, feeling his bare chest against your skin. "Go put on another shirt, we don't need another baby," You joke, but Max doesn't laugh. He wants another baby.

"Victoria had her baby." You smile, and Max nods. He wasn't very close to his sister, just enough to have a relationship, but with him being the head of the Dutch Mafia, Victoria didn't want her kids or husband in harm's way. He respected it. "Yes, a little girl. Is she cute?" Max asks, walking to the closet and grabbing a white button-down. "She's so adorable," You gush; you loved being an aunt but a mother even more.

Max smirked and walked back in, buttoning up his shirt. "Our baby girl would be cuter," He makes the comment offhanded, knowing you wouldn't think much of him saying that. He always liked to say your boys were cuter than his nephews. "Yeah," You whisper, looking at the picture of your niece with a smile. Max smiles and moves, pulling you close by your ankles, causing a squeal.

"Hey, you know I love you, right?" Max rarely said it, so when he did, it always caught you off guard and made you nervous. "I know, I've always known." You whisper, pressing your foreheads together before kissing him gently. "Go say bye to the boys. Come home safe to me." Max nods and kisses you one more time, savoring the moment. Sighing, he pulls away and heads to the boy's rooms.

He stops just a little from their door, hearing their laughter and play fighting. "You'll never win!" Fabby yells, and Casper's loud giggles fill the room. Max could listen to that sound for the rest of his life if he could. He did this job so they could laugh and have that innocence for a little longer. Moving, he knocks on the door and pokes his head in; blinking fast, he takes in the scene before him.

"Casper, why are your pants on your head?" The twins giggle like it's some secret, making Max smile softly and enter the room. "We're bandits, Daddy," Fabian says in an obvious tone as if Max should've known what they were doing. "Bandits, hm, alright, my little bandits, get dressed and eat breakfast. I've got to go to work." Max yanks the pj pants off Casper's head, who giggles and grabs some shorts and t-shirts.

Crouching down, Max helps the twins get dressed, giving each a hug and kiss. "Be good for your mother, understand me, little bandits?" Both boys nod, "Boys! Breakfast!" The twins shove each other all the way, laughter on their trail. Max stands and walks past the kitchen; catching your eye, he winks and walks out the door.

"Mommy, sleepy." Looking up, you see the time and notice you missed their nap. Placing your book down, you let Fabby crawl into your arms as Casper was knocked out on the floor. "Can we watch cartoons?" Kissing the top of his head, you pull him closer and nod. "Of course, Scooby-doo?" Fabby's little head moves up and down quickly.

Hearing the theme, you settle in, but with the warmth and weight of your baby, you, too, fall asleep.

Max hated when you didn't answer his calls, but honestly, it was the perfect excuse to get away from work, leaving everything to the kids and letting them get trigger-happy. He was getting older and didn't find the thirst for blood anymore; it's crazy how you and the kids have changed him so much.

There was also a slight butterfly feeling in his stomach. He learned this was called anxiety from you. He was never one to be anxious, but after you had the boys, whenever you didn't answer, or you weren't wearing your tracker. Max gifted you a first-anniversary diamond necklace; it was small, perfect, and didn't draw attention. While the diamond was perfect, underneath it was a little tracker.

You knew it was a tracker and always wore it for your protection. Today, though, you and the boys were having a lazy day as the nice weather had taken a turn, and it was raining. Max tries hard not to think the worst, as the guards alert him that no one has entered or even left the penthouse, so he knows you and the boys are safe. Pulling up, he doesn't bother locking the car as he steps into the elevator and hits his floor.

Living at the top pays off, especially when you own the building. Stepping off, he nods to his guards, and they move back downstairs, where they had only stayed in the house when Max wasn't home. Smiling, he hears the Scooby-Doo cartoon and slowly moves into the living room and stops, taking in the scene before him.

You lay on the couch with Fabby and Casper cuddled into you. Max can't help but think back to when they were newborns when you and Max would be so tired and fall asleep on the couch with them curled between you two. It was Max's first memory of truly falling in love with you and the kids. Moving closer, he leans over the couch and kisses your cheek gently. "Love you," He whispers, removes his shoes to not wake you three, and heads to the kitchen.

Seeing the staff, Max smiles and waves them off. "Have the night off; I can cook." They all nod, say their thanks, and leave out the back door, and Max smiles, thinking about the cook. Rummaging through the fridge, he finds chicken, nuggets, and other foods. He steps up the grill and turns it on. Max moves around cooking dinner and smiles at the finishing products. Grabbing the plates, he places the plates down and puts the boy's sippy cups and you in a small glass of wine with water, and he just drinks water.

Walking in, he sees Casper is awake and makes grabby hands for his Dad. "Take a good nap with Mommy?" Casper lays his head on Max's shoulder and nods his head. "Hungry?" Casper nods again, Max taking him, placing him in his chair, and passing him his apple juice. "Thank you, Daddy." Max turns and feels his heart melt, seeing his sweet boy so soft and warm. "You're welcome, Casper; I will get your mother and brother. Be good." Casper nods and stares at the strawberries beside the meal, and Max chuckles.

Heading in, he leans against the door frame, watching as you trace the outline of Fabian's sleeping face. "Makes me want another," You whisper, sensing Max's eyes watching you. Your husband has to take a deep breath to stop his body from reacting; smiling sweetly, he walks over and pulls you two into his arms. "I wouldn't mind another," You smile hearing those words but shake your head slightly as Fabby whines and rubs his eyes.

"Buddy, I made dinner. Are you ready?" Fabby sits up, and you're lucky you have fast reflexes. You lean back quickly when Fabian runs into the dining room. "You cooked?" You weren't shocked. Max used to cook for you all the time initially, but he stopped a while ago. I felt like doing it while you were sleeping with the boys." Max helps you up and pulls you into his chest, kissing the tip of your nose.

"I made you a salad if you want it. But I grilled chicken, rice, and some veggies. The boys are eating cut-up grilled chicken, a little serving of mac and cheese, and their favorite fruit. I will also try to get them to try out veggies." You swear you fall in love with him all over again hearing that. "You're hot being a dad, you know that?" Max chuckles and leads you to the dining room.

"I'm a daddy," You laugh, smacking his stomach as you join your two boys for dinner.

"Victoria, she's adorable." You coo, washing your hands, eagerly waiting to hold your baby niece. Victoria and her family decided to pay a visit after she was feeling better. Victoria knew it'd be easier to visit and safer for her to come to you four. Fabian and Casper look into the car seat, staring as their cousins play with Max on the floor.

"Mommy, can we have one?" Fabian turns, staring at you with wide eyes, and you think for a moment. Max's attention suddenly zeroes in on you. Fabby, why don't you go play with your Dad and cousins," You deflect the question, and Max stares at you; looking sideways, you blush at the way your husband is staring at you. "Here you go," you sit down and happily take the baby into your arms, Max clears his throat and tells the boys to run off.

The four terrors run down the hall to the twins, and Max stands, fixes his pants, and sits down next to you. "What do you think?" You giggle at Max's dumb question but really consider it. Did you really want a third? Recently, you've been seeing the kid's old baby stuff around, making you miss having a baby in the house. "Can I?" Max whispers as your niece has fallen asleep.

Victoria smiled, relaxing as her husband was watching the boys, letting her have a breath. Max gently takes the baby and stands, rocking side to side, and damn if it didn't do something to you. Seeing your husband in his suit holding a baby girl did something to you in a way you couldn't understand. It made your body light up with need, making it impossible to sit still.

Max knew what he was doing to you; it was a dirty trick, really. He noticed how you reacted to some character on a show who was still in his suit and holding his child. Max ensured they arrived right when he got home, so he had no excuse to change. Seeing how your breathing has picked up, your pupils dilated to the point he couldn't see the color in your eyes.

"Tori, she's so lovely," Max whispers, gently lowering the baby into the little cot. He smiles when she grabs his finger and holds on tight. And strong, too," he giggles and can't help but imagine holding his little girl. A little girl with your hair and his eyes, he could picture it. "Daddy, can we have one?" Max looks down, sees Casper, and chuckles, kneeling slowly with the baby in his arms. "You want another sibling?" Casper nods and leans, kissing his cousin's head gently before running down the hall.

You can't help but think about liking another baby in the house.

Standing in the bathroom, you gently remove your makeup and watch Max climb out of the shower. "Max?" Wrapping the towel around his waist, he grabs his toothbrush. He looks at you through the mirror, waiting for you to continue. "Um, I've been thinking about having another baby," you look down, embarrassed to even say this. "So have I, I'd like a little girl, but I'd be okay with another boy," Shrugging his shoulders, he starts to brush his teeth while you smile. "Yeah, I'd like a little girl too," Picturing yourself holding a baby with a pink hat.

"Do you have to go?" Holding your tea, you sit on the ottoman as Max packs a bag, fast and filled with anger. "Yes, I don't want to go, trust me. The last thing I want to do is leave you and the boys," Zipping it up, he almost breaks the zipper and leans on his dresser, the tension like a rubberband ready to snap.

"I'll tell them you went to visit Victoria," You never liked telling the boys what their father was really doing; they're only four years old. "That's smart, considering she lives far." Max stands up and faces you. It was early, far too early for you to even be up. But, the sound of his phone going off woke you, and here you sat with one lamp, wearing his shirt and drinking tea.

He couldn't love you more. "I love you," He can't help the words pass his lips as he stalks forward, pulling you up and kissing you deeply, but with such passion, you want to cry. It was the kiss he gave you, the same one that said goodbye in such a strange way that made your soul ache. Pulling away, Max smiles, seeing your eyes closed, taking in the kiss. "Come back to me," You whisper, eyes fluttering open as you stare into his. "I'll burn the world down to come home to you." Kissing you gently all over your face, arms strong around your body.

Kissing you one last time, he slips into the shadows, leaving you cold. You never thought Max would be your warmth.

"Mommy, I miss Daddy," Fabian whispers as you tuck him into bed. It was the fifth night Max was gone, and you were trying to explain why he had been gone so long. "I know, baby, I miss Daddy too." Lying on his bed, Casper is fast asleep and curled around his lion plushie Max got him when they were firstborn. Fabian curls more into your side as you read him another bedtime story. Soft breaths pull your attention, and you see Fabian is now passed out, clutching his lion stuffie close.

Sliding slowly off the bed, you're careful not to wake him. Bending down, you ghost over a kiss on both your boy's heads, slipping out of the room and closing the door. Resting your back on the door, you wish you had Max with you; the boys would love to sleep in your bed with your husband. They always slept with you two when he came back from his trips.

Closing your eyes, you take another deep breath, push off, and head to your bedroom. You hated how cold it felt still, how much you craved to smell just a hint of his cologne, his gummy smile when the boys did something that made him so happy, the way he moved through the house like he wasn't there, but you knew from the giggles that trailed him. You missed him in such a way that ached deep within. You fall asleep crying.

Max groans, rolling his neck as he steps into the penthouse. His guards nod, but he waves them away and slips his shoes off, not wanting to wake anyone. Max wants to slip into a hot shower, pull you into his arms, and fall asleep. He wants nothing more than to grab the boys, but he worries that seeing him slightly bruised and cut will scare them. So he just heads to your shared room and slips in; noticing how you're curled around his pillow, he feels a deep pang in his heart.

He missed you the most during the night, wanting nothing more than to reach over and feel your body melt into his. It's been cold at night, and he no longer refuses to deal with that. Sighing, he pulls at his shirt, groaning quietly as his ribs ache from the cuts and bruises on them. Mud and blood in his hair, face, and clothes, burying a dead body was not easy. Especially when the body used to be one of your men. Turning on the shower, his muscles relax as he thinks about how good it will feel to have the warmth on his cold-bitten skin.

Stripping off the rest of the clothes, Max stretches, steps into the shower, and groans at the heat seeping deep into his skin. Closing his eyes, Max leans his head back and enjoys the silence of his own home. Max craved silence as he grew up with such anger and hatred it was never quiet. Now, he loved the silence here, but it was a different type of silence. The silence meant everyone was happy, loved, and at peace. Max loved the noise; it was no longer filled with anger and hatred. It was one filled with childlike innocence and happiness; he craved it while he was away.

Max opens his eyes and smiles, turning his head and seeing the outline of your figure. "Join me?" It was a soft ask that required you to lift his shirt over your head and drop it. Max craved to feel your skin against him, like air, and he couldn't breathe. "You're home," You whisper, sighing when Max pulls you close to each other's naked body. "I'm home," He whispers, resting his forehead on your shoulder blade. You loved having his body pressed against you, which made you feel safe, but it was also dizzy. Max was built and bigger than you, and it just made your brain go fuzzy around the edges.

Max knew what he was doing, pushing his body against you; you made it no secret that you loved he was bigger than you. "Max," You whisper, running your hands down his back as he presses himself against you, pressing kisses over your neck and shoulder. "Max," You whimper as his teeth scrape the weak spot over your neck that makes your legs feel weak. "Yes, Schat?" His voice husky and deep, pulling back his eyes dilated and dark. "I want another baby," You whisper, slowly spreading your legs, and Max groans.

Reaching down, you let your head thump back on the glass as his rough fingers ghost over your lips. "Yeah? Do you want another baby? Want me to fill you so deep?" His voice turns into a growl, fingers moving and pinching your clit before rubbing slow circles. You whimper, grabbing onto his shoulders, and nod your head fast. "Yes, fuck please, fuck me so deep, use me. Please, Max." You beg, the ache between your legs growing so that you could cry from him just burying himself deep inside you.

Max smirks, moving his hand up your back and into your hair, grabbing it and pulling your head back, and you hiss, the burn scratching something deep in you. "Spread your legs, my little siren." You giggle, having not heard that nickname in so long. You clumsily grab the bars in the shower and spread your legs, Max slowly getting to his knees and pressing kisses on your hip. "Sorry," You apologize, and Max arches an eyebrow. "Siren, I don't care." He chuckles at the hair. He could give a damn.

You gasp, closing your eyes when his tongue flattens and suddenly licks up and down with slow, long stripes. Body relaxing, you let your weight fall on his face, and he groans, feeling it. Large hands move up the back of your legs before slapping your ass. A surprised laugh escapes you, and Max smirks, blue eyes bright, as his lips wrap around your clit and suck before letting go and moving his tongue fast before slowing down. His hands move away from your ass and hold onto your hips and groan, feeling the way you're getting puffy.

He's missed this feeling, the way your pussy feels on his face. He could die like this happily. You whine at Max's pace, and he moves one of his hands, fingers moving down and slowly entering you before curling and moving in and out. You sigh, the feeling in you turning warm as you feel that slight tightness in the stomach grow more and more. Max, feeling your warm and cushy, pulls, pulls his fingers out and lays one last kiss. You open your eyes, vision hazy as you slip, and Max catches you holding you up.

"Turn around, siren." You nod and turn around, spreading your legs as you feel him stand right behind you. He groans, staring at your ass, slapping it, the sound bouncing off the shower walls. You groan, dropping your head at the heavy feeling of his hand slapping you. Max smirks as he jerks himself slowly. He moves and rubs himself between your lips, and your mouth waters, missing the weight of him in you. "Max, don't tease me." You beg, and he chuckles, leaning over your back.

His hand grabs your throat and arches you back. "Don't mouth off to me, siren, or else I'll choke you with my cock instead." Moaning at the idea, he chuckles and slowly slides in, your mouth dropping open as he stretches you open with a delicious feeling. Max bottoms out, groaning as he takes in the sight of your back arching and the reflection of the glass, your mouth open and eyes rolled back. "Ready?" You nod at his question as he pulls back and then forward.

The motion has you rocking forward, slamming your hands on the glass they drag down as his hips slam hard on your ass, fucking you hard and deep. "Fuck, feel so damn good." You whimper, trying to find something to hold onto. Reaching around, Max takes both your wrists in his large hand and pulls your arms back. The sting of everything itched something deep in you. "Right there, fuck Max," Max smirks and pulls your arms and moves his hips faster, watching your tits bounce; leaning back, he enjoys the view of him pulling out and being swallowed by your pussy.

Max pulls you, and you whimper at the loss. Spinning you around, he picks you up with ease, and you whine as he presses your back onto the cold shower window and you whine. Max wraps his arms under your legs and places your ankles on his shoulders as he slides into you again. Your fingers pull at his short blonde strands, groaning; he fucks deeper into you from this angle.

"Want a baby? Want me to fuck a baby into you? Fuck, you'd look gorgeous all swollen with my baby. Goddamn," Max groans, his legs burning, but he doesn't care to be driven by his need to fill you and make sure you know who's gotten you pregnant. "Yes, please, Max," You cry, tears swimming in your eyes. "Yeah, going to fuck you, full baby, beg for it." You whimper as you try to find the words, but your mind is blank, just being so fucked out of it. Max groans and reaches down, rubbing his thumb over your sensitive clit. "Max," Your voice is airy and squeaky as you feel everything in your body becoming hot and tight.

"Going to come around, my cock; such a good girl for me, my good girl." You whine as he angles his hips and hits your spot. As you close your eyes and open your mouth, no noise emerges as you surround him. Max still fucks you through it and groans before pulling out and then sliding deep inside you and coming, his muscles so damn tight they could snap as he continued to fuck you, making sure it was staying inside.

You whine as he pulls you and slowly sits you down. "Max," Your throat raw, but he moves and slides two fingers in you, making sure nothing drips out. You whine, sensitive, and he kisses your face gently. "Sorry, want to make sure nothing goes to waste." He whispers and pulls his fingers out, and sucks them into his mouth. "Let's finish showering." Nodding your head, too tired to keep your eyes open, he smiles and holds you close as he cleans you both.

Picking you up bridal style, he dries you off and dresses you. Kissing you gently, he lays you in bed. But he doesn't lay down just yet, pulling on some boxers and shorts; he doesn't like not having the boys here. "I'm getting the boys," you whine as an answer, breathing evening out as you fall back asleep. Max smiles and moves through the house, going to the twins' room. Stepping in, he smiles, seeing them both with their lion stuffies. Moving carefully, not wanting to step on stray toys, he scoops both boys up and smiles at their weights in his arms.

Casper whines but cuddles closer, and Fabby just lies like dead weight. Walking back to the bedroom, he lays them down gently and tucks them in before climbing in. Max smiles, pulls you three close, and sighs. Max never wanted to give this up.

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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months

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Another small Drabble 🦦

‘You comfortable there?’ Luke asks, smiling as he watched you burrow yourself further into his neck. You only hummed in response, finding yourself unable to think of anything outside of how warm he was, which only made you grew sleepier with each blink of your eyelids.

‘Is all you’re going to say is hmm?’ Luke lightly teased. ‘I have become your pillow -against my will no less- and all you have to say for it is hmmm?’ He sighs dramatically as he looks away from you and through a nearby window that peered out onto camp. ‘The things I do for love.’ Luke adds and upon hearing you chuckle, he couldn’t help but smile at the heavenly sound that not even the most beautifully composed song could compete nor compare. He absolutely adores your laugh as much as your smile; You being happy in general, but more so if it was because of him, was what Luke loved more than anything.

‘Your sacrifices have been fully recognised and I must say that you make the most comfortable pillow.’ You replied -equally as playful- whilst dotting kisses against his skin and feeling Luke tighten his hold on you, as though that you weren’t close enough to his liking, like he wanted your souls to touch instead.

‘Am I the best pillow you’ve ever had?’ You hear Luke whisper against into your ear.

‘The absolute best.’ You said without hesitation. ‘I never want to be anywhere else than right here, with you.’ Luke pressed a plethora of kisses into your skin, squeezing you tightly as he let out a soft chuckle. ‘I’m glad to know that my willingness to do anything for you is finally being acknowledged after so long.’ You gave him a light smack to the bicep for this comment. ‘But for now I wanna stay in this moment for as long as possible, in hopes that I may remember your warmth while I’m away on quests; for even if my memories were to ever be taken, you’ll always be what I fight to come back to.’

You didn’t say anything as you didn’t know how you could compete with such poetic words, but made your feelings known through a chaste kiss upon his perfect lips.

#pjo x reader #pjo imagines #pjo imagine #pjo fanfic #pjo tv show #pjo series #percy jackson and the olympians #Percy Jackson #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fanfic

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chososdiscordkitten · 1 month

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Synopsis: jjk men and their favorite sex positions :P

Includes: 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨, 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨, 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚, 𝐧𝐝 𝐊𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐛𝐞 Content: mostly fem!reader, multiple positions, no plot, cum eating and cumplay, spanking, rough sex (?), p vanilla if im being fr

MDNI

Toji Zenin

Had you asked Toji what his favorite was- he would insist he didn’t have one. That they were all equal and that they changed little to nothing when it came to sex.

But the way his hands would hold your waist down onto the bed with your knees propped up- his hips slowly rolling behind you with a deep nudge against your sweet spot every time.

You couldnt see his face- but you could hear the grunts and low moans rumble past his lips when your walls would pulse around him. You could feel his desperate grip on your skin.

Every time he would hoist your hips back up when your knees would slip to the sides from his powerful thrusts. Giving him a better angle for his cock to fill you.

Your hands gripping the edge of the bed with your forearms holding you up.

Not his go-to, but secretly one of his favorites.

Be it the way your spine beautifully curved with the assistance of his hands or how guttural your moans sounded when he would push himself deeper into you and hold himself there.

Or every wave your ass made from his hips making contact, the wet schlops and squelches in full view when he would look to where you were linked.

Toji liked it even more when his hips would slow in the slightest- and your ass wouldn’t hesitate to bounce back and meet his thrusts halfway.

And the other- When you were on your side, your legs pressed together and curled into a ball with his hands holding the plump of your ass and your thighs to keep your knees bent.

His posture straight and looking down to your hands trying to keep the hold on the back of your thighs.

Now he didn’t like this position in particular- what he relished was when your hands were barely keeping their hold on your thighs. Threatening to spread your legs- but Toji did it before you could.

Thralling a leg over his hip and guiding you onto your back. Planting his hands on your sides and gripping harshly before continuing his deep thrusts.

Missionary so he could watch your eyes roll back with a crinkle forming on your nose when his calloused fingers made contact with your clit- and what he liked was how fucking carnal it felt pounding into you this way.

How primal it was that he could easily lean down and slot his tongue against yours- keeping a tedious but deep pace as your hands sprawled onto his back as a brace.

And how your ankles wouldn’t hesitate to lock at his waist, pulling him closer and urging him without words to fill you.

Satoru Gojo

This man was always unpredictable regarding what position he would twist you into. Satoru was always willing to try a new one twice or three times to be sure either of you didn’t like it.

But, when it came to his favorites- Gojo always liked bending you over and pressing your face against the wall. His hands groping at your bottom, his hips pushing his erection into your clothed core.

Something about caging you against the wall, your back arched and giving him the perfect angle to sink himself into you. And your hands planted beside your face, bracing and ready for him to start.

Satoru thought it was the vulnerability you were put in, easily accessible, your ass pressed against him so firmly you could feel the print against the swell of your bottom.

And he was so mean when he had you this way, one of his hands on your waist, and his hips threatening to push further. A cheeky smile on his lips knowing you had nowhere else to go but further into the wall. That or his hands would guide your back into a pretty arch- just for him.

Satoru liked it most when you wore a large tshirt— sliding the hem slowly up your back, giving him an eyeful of the little dimples he loved seeing on your lower back. Placing his thumbs into the little divots, and ignoring your demands for him to hurry.

To Gojo, he always liked seeing you turned away from him- not for any reason other than the fact your ass was in full view- but, when he would give you a firm spank. Some kind of compliment, in his own way.

And you would look back at him over your shoulder- eyes full of urge and need when he would take too long teasing you. Almost telling him to hurry with just your eyes- he liked having your ass in his hands and your face in clear view for his eyes.

To Satoru, missionary was the most intimate position he could think of. His knees barely holding him up, your hand pressing into his back and pulling him even closer to your chest, the other holding his face inches away from yours.

One of his hands at the side of your thigh and the other on your side- not even fucking anymore, just rolling his hips softly into you. Barely pulling his cock out, stroking deep- deep rolls into you and trying to maintain eye contact.

Not even daring to connect his lips with yours- barely brushing against his plush ones, inhaling every moan and whimper that would leave his throat.

Missionary would be pointless if you didn’t look into eachothers eyes, in Satoru’s opinion. Being able to watch your orgasm form with every crinkle on your nose, with every pinch of your eyebrows.

In these moments, Satoru never dared to pull away from you. The warmth of his torso searing against your bare front, holding him too tightly as his chest heaved against yours. If you focused enough, you could feel his heart pounding against your own.

Satoru liked missionary, because he knew that’s when your hearts could beat as closely together as they could.

Naoya Zenin

If you asked him straight on- he would say some bullshit like “Face down, ass up. Because that’s the only time you shut up.”

His response had some truth- Naoya liked that position because there was hardly any backtalk, as his cock perfectly reached the sweet spot with every rough thrust he made.

That’s what pissed you off most- as horrible and annoying as he could be, he always hit that special spot with ease.

And he knew it- the way your spine would shudder at the first prod, or your twitching walls hugging him. Even if you never praised him for being rough- Naoya knew he must be doing something right.

Like when your hands would ball into fists with the sheets tangled between your fingers. Or the guttural whines that Naoya’s thrusts would pound out of your throat.

And his hands were equally as unforgiving as his hips were- planted on your waist to keep you in a mean arch. Even more so when he would flip you over- pleased with the fucked out look on your face.

Not Naoya’s favorite that you could say- but he never complained when you would ride him. Doing all the work for him- but with one condition.

You got to set the pace, and he had to stay still as you fucked yourself on his cock.

Naoya liked it most when he would be lying on his back, with you slowly easing down on his cock. Hands behind his head and watching one of your hands plant onto his carved tummy and the other on one of his thighs.

Your head thrown back and using him as you pleased, and Naoya watched- watched you get off without any of his help.

You could go as slow as you wanted, and even if it killed him— not being able to pound into you as he wished to— Naoya knew you preferred to take things slow every once in a while.

Naoya would never admit it- but he knew you had a point.

He liked watching you slowly move your hips against him- being able to feel every small pulse and throb your cunt made against his cock.

But when your hips would tire, leaning down and pressing your chest to his and asking him to help; Naoya would gladly roll you over- still inside and pound into you as you had asked him to.

Kento Nanami

One of this man’s favorite forms of sex, was morning sex.

The hazy state still lingering behind his eyes, rolling over and scooching closer to your back. Cuddling you and humming softly against your ear with his hands on your waist.

Nanami would wait till you would stirr awake before even considering what grew between his legs.

Hearing a pleased hum leave your lips as his hands caressed the side of your thigh.

And when you started pressing your bottom back against his growing erection. Nanami would get the hint almost immediately.

He would have one hand between your legs, guiding his cock to nestle into your plush walls with a smooth exhale brisking against your ear. And the other wrapped around your ribcage, holding you close to him as he starts rolling his hips.

Nanami’s lips against your ear pressing gentle kisses onto the cartilage- whispering praises as your sluggish hand pressed against his forearm.

He liked this position because of the access he had to your ear, easily being able to whisper how well you were taking him. And how close he could feel your skin against his.

Even more so when he would finish- unwilling to pull out and expose his cock to the cold air outside of your cunt. So he would drift off to sleep with a smile, his cock still inside of you, keeping you plugged up till he would be forced to get up from your warmth.

And this just relays back to the whole- sleepy sex. But when you’re facing Nanami, one knee propped up on his thigh as his hips sloppily thrust into you, that’s when he feels closest to you.

His hands splayed on your back and held you tightly against his chest. Lightly groaning into your ear as your cunt greedily sucked him back in with every pull he made.

And when Nanami would tire from the position- he would roll atop you. Planting his forearm beside your head and looking into your eyes. Lazily thrusting into you- his knees not even holding him up.

His hips would do all the work as you came in unison.

If you asked Nanami, he would say that missionary was probably his favorite- enjoying the intimacy shared with every thrust he would roll against you.

Being able to feel his affection with every slap his heavy balls would smack against your ass.

And his other favorite- When your ankles would be held to the sides of your ears, a different kind of missionary- sure.

He would start it that way- as missionary. But by the time you noticed Nanami's hands hooking at the ditches of your knees- he was already pushing them up and raising his hips as he maneuvered your hips upwards.

Your cheeks pulsing with blood from the pressure his hips would push against your bottom. Folded to his whim and grateful for it.

What Nanami liked about this- was that he could watch your face churn with every low moan leaving your lips. Showing him that he was hitting the perfect spot at the angle he was thrusting into you.

His knees planted right next to your hips- only one move or two away from a mating press, but not quite there.

But his strong hands holding the back of your calves keeping you in the harsh position would tighten their grip when he would look down to where you were connected.

Choso Kamo

Choso is a simple man. He won’t dance around what he wants and wait for you to guess what he wants when it comes to positions.

Glad that he had no shame in whispering into your ear- “Ride me.” when his cock had ached since your hips started their slow drags against his clothed cock.

Sat on the couch with his hands massaging the plush skin of your hips and thighs. Kissing softly at your collarbones as you raised slowly on his lap.

Your hands tussled in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp between soft tugs.

Choso’s hands were known to wander- up your side or lower on your bottom as you worked yourself on his cock. His lips leaving soft markings at the center of your chest and wherever else his lips could find.

What he liked most was how you set the pace- how it was up to you whether or not to keep the slow, tantalizing pace that had him on the brink of bursting with every lagging roll your hips made.

Even worse when your hands would tug at his hair- giving him more desire to allow himself to succumb to his orgasm. Or when you would purposefully clench around him as you dragged yourself up his cock.

His eyes dared to roll back- feeling as though you were purposefully trying to milk him dry.

And when you would grant him the freedom to fuck up into you- raising yourself till only the very head of his cock was left in the taut ring of muscle. Holding his head in your hands as he braced onto the malleable skin of your hips.

Noses brushing against each other as he looked into your eyes in a plea. Breathing the words, “Fuck me-” in a hushed whisper.

That’s all Choso needed to hear to start bucking his hips into you. Desperate for release and his eyes shut tight, his bruising grip on your ass made it clear that’s what he was waiting for.

And his other favorite was when it was unplanned. Tension so thick, Choso couldn’t bear to inhale another breath if it was not against your lips.

Morning, noon, or night: Choso never hesitated to have you sat on any surface with his hips between your thighs. Kissing you with urge as his hands roamed to the ditch of your knees.

Hiking them up and planting his hands onto the counter- pinning your legs open at the perfect angle for his cock.

And with the pressure- your head pressed against the cabinets, grasping onto his nape as a brace when he plunged into you.

Grateful for any surface there was that angled your entrance with his pelvis- knowing where there was a will, there was a way.

And there was nothing that Choso was more willing to do than have you sat in a cramped space with your legs pinned to the side- perfectly spread for him and his cock.

Suguru Geto

Now, we have already established that Suguru is an ass man- Right?

Geto had a penchant for reverse cowgirl.

Something about watching your cunt suck in as much of his cock as you could- and your hands planted on his thighs, bracing for every slight rise you made with your hips.

And Suguru’s hands? Greedily groping at the swell of your ass and enjoying the show you put on for him. Even giving you a handful of spanks whenever your hips would stutter in the movements.

Even more when Geto would spout some filth at you- how selfish your cunt was, swallowing all of his cock up and not even wanting to move once his head was nestled right next to your gspot.

Urging you to touch your clit- being able to feel every spasm your walls made against his shaft when you would do as he asked.

What Suguru liked most was when he finally came- his spend seeping from your entrance and trickling onto his pelvis with every small shudder your body made from the fill.

Regardless if he had just come inside of you- Suguru had no doubts in pulling you off of his cock and guiding you by the hips to let him taste you.

Ending up in a lazy 69, your mouth held on his tip with your tongue licking small swipes at his tip- your moans vibrating against his twitching cockhead as he greedily ate out the mess he spurt into you. Less for his pleasure- more because he liked the face you would look at him with when he was done giving you another orgasm.

As though you had never seen such filth in your life before then- like that was the nastiest thing he had ever done to you.

You looked at him the same way every single time he would pull some out of pocket shit like that- and that’s what brought a smile to his face.

Knowing that anyone after him will only do a whisper of the things he would do to you.

Hiromi Higuruma

When it came to his favorite kind of intercourse- Hiromi always feigned being too tired to do all the work.

Urging you to use him as you pleased- that if you wanted to fuck, you’d have to do it yourself. Not because he was lazy- or was actually tired.

But because of the softness your hands held in undressing the crucial parts of him- undoing a few buttons at the top of his dress shirt, loosening his tie, and undoing his belt and the button of his slacks. Giving him a few strokes to wake his half-hard cock with an eager smile.

And when he was as ready as you were- standing tall with your mouth watering from the sight, you lowered yourself onto him. Shameless and uncaring if his eyes looked at you with amusement circling his pupils.

He told you to use him, and you weren’t going to let that opportunity go to waste. So determined to finish yourself off and leave Hiromi as he is, using the same excuse he made if he wanted more.

Hiromi did it for the sole purpose of being able to watch you with tired eyes- already fucked out from a few rolls of your hips with your hand making small circles against your clit.

And as your lips pressed soft kisses at the side of his neck- your hands braced on his shoulders and your hips threatening to stutter. Hiromi couldn’t help but descend into the slow pace you held- closing his eyes and enjoying the mouthwatering strokes you made.

Even if his hands were at your hips- caressing the skin softly with his thumbs to encourage you to finish. The burning ache in your thighs and the growing frustration in your lower tummy were far too much to keep going.

And Hiromi felt as though his cock could get harder inside of you when you would look at him with bleary eyes- asking him to help you with a pouty lip.

Hiromi- being the man he was, he would help you.

Bend you over the nearest surface with a strong willed hand on your hip. Lining himself up with your entrance again, and his other hand pressed your neck onto the surface.

Your hands placed on either side of your face as he sunk himself into you again.

Hiromi’s thrusts start slow, a stark contrast to the mean grip his hands held against your skin. But with every thrust— each one firmer than the last, came the realization that Hiromi wasn’t as tired as he claimed he was.

But you, too stuffed of his fat cock to care right now- raised on your tiptoes as his hips inched you further and further on the counter.

His hips unforgiving, and his mouth the same. Littered with grunts and low moans between every mutter he made. Calling you greedy for wanting him to help- and being able to feel your cunt tremble around his fast-paced shaft at every mean name he murmured with tenderness.

Atsuya Kusakabe

Kusakabe knew what he liked, and didn't. He knew which way to bend you over in a way that made his cock twitch in anticipation from just looking at you.

What he liked most was when he would be laid up on the bed, the broad of his shoulders pressing against the headboard with you in a reverse cowgirl. Slowly riding him with his hands massaging your hips.

His eyes always caught on every small thrust you would make, on the pretty curve of your back and how it glistened with a light sheen of sweat from how worked up you were getting.

Your hand met his on your hip, and the other held you up as you slowly rode him. Fully and wholly splayed for his greedy eyes that wished to look at every part of you.

Where your cunt was swallowing his cock with ease, the swell of your ass lightly rising and falling with every grind you made. Every shudder your shoulders when you would grind down into the perfect spot.

And when you would look over your shoulder, only seeing the curled corner of your lip and your hazy eyes looking back at him.

Even more when his hands tightened their grip—a whimper laced with a giggle leaving your throat at the little bite he made at his bottom lip. A low groan in admiration rumbled from his throat at the scenic view he had.

And when Kusakabe felt a little mean- He would press you into a lazy prone bone. His arms caging you in between the bed and his body with his cock making sloppy strokes into your entrance.

Purposefully dragging out his thrusts just so you’d ask him to go faster. Laced with a whimper and bordering on illegible- but you still asked.

He would lean down into your ear, pull himself from your warmth- as slow as he could and tell you; “You want it faster- do it yourself.” and would watch your hips desperately pound back into him.

Unpatterned and sloppy as you fucked yourself on him. Your hands gripping at the pillows as he huffed in amazement. Knowing you were stubborn and willing to take on any challenge.

But this- The sheer sight of you moving your hips at the speed you wanted made him want to give you what you wanted. In his brain, itching to provide you with the fast pace you requested.

But maybe he was just mean enough to keep you like this longer. Have you fuck yourself silly on his cock- all while moans mixed with hushed pleads leave your lips.

(a.n) wow my very first kusakabe piece, dedicated to the kusakabe fuckers in my asks ✊🏽 imma take a nap now

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madschiavelique · 9 months

Note

accidentally overstimulating miguel while you’re riding him so he literally has to lift you up off him and he’s like “okay, yeah, that’s enough”

yESSSSS AAAA (i know this is not a request per se but i felt like writing a lil smth about it)

summary : overstimulating miguel while riding him to the point where he has to lift you off him... so he fingers you and gives you oral instead

content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, pnv sex, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), reader riding migul, overstimulation, no use of Y/N, fem!reader word count : 839

tag list : @fandom-ash

Miguel couldn't wait, it had been too long since you and him had fucked. The reasons were varied: you were on a mission and he wasn't, he was on a mission and you weren't, you were both on a mission and had to take care of business, or you had to take care of reports and other interdimensional problems.

So when you had a little more free time and he welcomed you into his home, he couldn't hold on any longer. He'd double-locked the door, and as soon as he'd done that, he'd guided you in the bedroom, pulled down your bottom, practically ripped off your panties and thrust himself inside you.

And now you'd been in there for over an hour. You were on top of Miguel, riding him, undulating your body perfectly on top of him as he just had an orgasm.

He'd gripped your buttocks tightly, taking your skin entirely between his fingers as he'd pressed his pelvis as close to yours as possible to go deep inside you.

At last, he'd let his head rest on his pillow.

Only you hadn't stopped moving. The sensations you were experiencing were delicious, his whole length and width plunged into you and stretching you to perfection. The rocking of your hips was delicious, yet Miguel's sensitivity was beginning to kick in.

It was as if you were gently caressing a fresh wound, each movement turning the touch into a painful grip.

He grunted, sighing as you continued your movements. He looked at you, absolutely magnificent above him.

He had no desire to interrupt your pleasure, to suddenly stop the superb sounds you were producing thanks to him - he was too proud of making them.

But the sensation was becoming less and less sustainable, and with a final grunt he gripped your thighs firmly and lifted you off him to let his cock fall back against his lower belly, still glistening with your juices.

"Okay," he huffed, completely out of breath and relieved, "yeah, that's enough."

You looked at him, equally breathless, the small regret that it stopped so suddenly settling on your face.

Miguel felt almost guilty at your apologetic expression, but he was unable at the moment to continue satisfying you like this, unless he proceeded otherwise...

"Still wanna go at it, nena?" he questioned, stroking your thigh.

You nodded softly, the warm desire in your lower belly still present and demanding attention.

"I'll give you a choice then," he nodded, "choose: fingers, or mouth?"

You bit your lower lip with a smile before only leaning into him and confirming:

"Both."

A low rumble vibrated in his chest as a sneer stretched one of his lips in a dark smile.

"Good choice."

In one swift movement you found yourself in his place and he in yours, towering over you with his massive body as he began a trail of kisses across your skin and you chirped under his touch.

He moved down to your lower belly, leaving small marks in his wake before bringing his hand to your wet folds, coating two of his fingers with your wetness before sliding them in.

The shaky breath you took made Miguel smile against your skin, the warmth of his breath crashing against your exposed flesh. You deserved this attention, and he was going to give it to you.

As his fingers slowly began to curve in and out of you, he came to kiss your skin, moving down with each kiss towards your clit. The sensation of his lips grazing the latter inevitably brought your hand to rest in his hair as you arched your back.

The gesture elicited a slight moan from him, which vibrated on the sensitive ball of nerves, and you sighed a mix of a breath and a moan.

His tongue made sinuous circles around your clit as his two fingers accelerated slightly. He knew which places he had to touch to make you produce the sweetest sounds, and he wasn't going to deprive himself of hearing them.

He would never tire of seeing in your eyes even the size of your desire, and he would never tire of the idea that it was meant for him. He knew how lucky he was.

Your walls were perfect, taking his thick, long fingers into you so good. He curved them while making smaller and smaller circles centered on your clit, kissing and licking it.

The state you'd been in just a few moments ago while riding Miguel was close to orgasm, and his calculated gestures were going to push you over the edge. Instinctively, your pelvis began to undulate on its own.

Your hands gripped his hair more firmly, your breath quickening as the heat rose to your cheeks and the knot tightened in your belly.

And then it all exploded, Miguel tenderly kissing your skin as you felt like he was kissing a second heart beating in your entire body. He waited a bit before pulling out his two fingers gently, bringing them to his lips, sucking them until all your juices were clean from his fingers.

Then rose to kiss you, murmuring tender words to your ears.

"You're amazing, nena, and I need you to know it."

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monicascot · 10 months

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ellemj · 3 months

Text

Flustered: Part 1

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Two-Part Fic: SMUT

Request by @aryarcharon: enemies to lovers, fuckboy!Bucky, praise kink.

Summary: Bucky seems to thoroughly appreciate all women...except for you. When he finds out one of your weaknesses, he can't help but use it against you, which only makes you hate him more.

Warnings: profanity, masturbation, fuckboy!Bucky, size kink, praise kink, teasing, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: I've had major writers block + lack of motivation lately. I started this WEEKS ago and didn't have a single good idea for it again until today, so here you all go. I meant for it to be a one-shot but it sort of turned into a two-part fic on its own. Special thanks to @aryarcharon for this wonderful combination request from the smut menu!

It’s not very easy to get under your skin. You’re so level-headed and even-tempered, capable of dealing with the most heinous criminals and lowlifes without ever breaking a sweat. However, there is one person who not only knows how to get under your skin, but takes pride in doing exactly that. That one person is none other than Bucky Barnes.

As a heavy rain pours down, soaking your clothes and sending a chill throughout your body, you stand with your arms crossed over your chest and a simmering rage bubbling up in the pit of your stomach. It’s his fault you’re stuck out here like this, freezing your ass off and probably nearing hypothermia as you wait for an extraction team. The mission went fine. You got the intel you needed, you got in and out without a hitch, and you even made it all the way back to the getaway car. The getaway car that Bucky left idling for too long, which drained the battery and now leaves the two of you standing in the rain.

Your eyes flit over to your left, where Bucky’s carefully analyzing the machinery beneath the hood of the car, like he’s going to be able to magically fix a drained battery. Just the sight of him feeds the fire of anger within you.

“Give it up, we don’t have any way to jump it off.” You grumble, running your hands through your wet hair. Bucky lifts his gaze to glare at you. His eyes briefly travel down to your wet clothes, but he focuses back on the machinery within a second. It was already cold out before it started raining, why the hell would you have dressed in such a thin shirt? And then to only pull on an equally thin jacket over the top of it, Bucky’s decided that you’re not the brightest.

“If you had listened to me and gone in when security was in the back half of the building instead of waiting until shift change, we wouldn’t have had to leave the car idling for that long.” Bucky points out, letting the hood down and closing it with a metallic thud.

“If you had turned the ignition off, time wouldn’t have been a factor.” You retort. You know there isn’t any use in arguing, it’s not going to change your current shitty situation. However, you never seem to be able to stop yourself when it comes to Bucky.

“I was trying to keep the car warm so you wouldn’t be freezing your ass off on the drive back to the compound.” Bucky huffs, moving around the side of the car to join you in standing on the passenger side. The laugh that leaves your lips is genuine, and if you weren’t laughing at Bucky’s words, it might’ve been infectious enough to make him laugh right along with you.

“Don’t lie and pretend like you were keeping it warm for me, you were doing that for yourself. You’re never that nice to me.” It’s true, he’s never that nice to you. Any other woman? Sure, he’s a gentleman to anyone else. But to you, he’s an ass, constantly. It’s part of his fuckboy charm. He puts on the perfect show for women he wants to sleep with, and then gets them into bed and never calls them again, forever seemingly afraid of commitment. It’s how you figured out that you’re the one girl he’s never thought about sleeping with. He’s never been nice to you.

Before Bucky has a chance to continue your pointless argument, his phone rings in the pocket of his leather jacket. He’s quick to pull it out, note that it’s Torres calling, and then press the device up to his ear as he narrows his eyes at you. You roll your eyes the moment you make eye contact with him.

“I’ve got a car coming your way, ETA is about two minutes. But, it looks like the people you stole the info from may have caught on to the ruse, so you need to move.” Torres informs him quickly. He can hear him tapping away on a keyboard as he speaks.

“Which direction is the car coming from?” Bucky asks, already scanning the street for signs of danger.

“Head north of where you are right now, when you get to the construction site at the end of the road, take a left and find a place to tuck in until the car gets there.”

It’s less than a minute later that you and Bucky are jogging through the rain in silence. You follow a couple of steps behind him, routinely glancing over your shoulder to check for the people that are supposedly on your tail. Though you haven’t seen or heard anyone yet, it doesn’t mean you aren’t being watched. After a short twenty seconds of you jogging behind Bucky, his protective nature gets the best of him and he slows down, switching places with you. He’s not letting you hang around the back and be the first one to get shot at when those guys catch up.

“I can take care of myself, you know.” You mumble as Bucky lets you take the lead.

“You have to, since you sure as hell don’t like to let anyone else do it.” He spits back lowly. For someone who can’t stand being around you, he sure knows a good bit about you.

---

Bucky stands in the shower, running his hands through his hair as he lets the hot water trickle over the curves of his muscles. He let you get under his skin today. He let you distract him from the mission at hand and he forgot to turn off the damn ignition, which resulted in the two of you getting stranded in the rain. Truthfully, you barely even did anything. It was the same shit that always distracts him when he’s in the field with you. The way you can be so serious and focused on your task, yet still throw casual insults and banter with him on the side. The way you’ve never acted like you were scared of him or like you even care who he once was. The way you roll your eyes. Every time he sees you roll your eyes at him, which is often, he can’t help but think about making you roll them for a very different reason. God, if he could just get you out of his life, he’d be fine. He’d be more the fine, honestly. He’d be fucking great.

But, you’re a part of his life whether he likes it or not. You both live in the tower, you get sent on the same missions more often than not, and you’re as close with Sam as he is. So, over the last couple of months, Bucky came up with one foolproof way of gaining a little control back in this situation. He goes out of his way to make you want to insult him, to make you want to give him shit, so he can convince himself that you’d never give him a chance. Of course, it helps that he’s a bit of a modern-day fuckboy and you can’t stand that. Your take on his sex life is a bit off, but he doesn’t care to correct you on it, hoping it’ll make you hate him even more. You think that he sleeps around and because you think he fears commitment, you assume he leads women on and gets them into bed with the promise of something more. He does sleep around, but with no promise of commitment or anything resembling that. He lets women know up front that he isn’t looking for anything, that he’s happy to have one fun night and give them pleasure beyond belief, but that it’ll never go anywhere after that. Besides, who would pass up the chance to sleep with a super soldier? He’s practically fulfilling women’s fantasies left and right. He’s doing his civic duty by sleeping around. Isn’t he?

Bucky had been planning to grab something out of the fridge for dinner after his shower, and then lock himself in his room for the rest of the night. Until he stepped out of his room, freshly showered, and the heavenly smell of whatever you chose to cook for everyone that night graced his senses. He couldn’t help himself from venturing in not only to see what you were making, but also to try to get under your skin as much as you got under his earlier today.

“Don’t tell me you’re cooking pasta again.” Bucky’s voice rings out just as you’re leaving your sauce to simmer and thicken up on the stovetop. Your back is to him, but you know he’s approaching the kitchen with a sure plan to piss you off. As you wash a wooden spoon in the sink, your entire body tenses up when you feel him behind you.

“You know I like to be alone in here when I’m cooking.” You remind him coldly, shutting off the water and drying the spoon on a hand towel. Bucky chuckles lowly before backing away from you and moving over to the stovetop, glancing down at the pasta sauce that you’ve spent the last fifteen minutes whipping up.

“And you know that’s why I’m in here.” Bucky points out. God, he’s infuriating. He’s made it his main purpose in life to piss you off, you’re sure of it. When you finally turn to face him, you catch him eyeing the sauce with piqued interest.

“Get away from the stove.” You say boldly, pointing your wooden spoon at him like it’s a weapon. Bucky’s eyes dart over to you with mild amusement as he assesses the situation. You need to turn the burner off, but Bucky’s seen you cook this exact recipe enough times to know that, so instead of moving like you told him to, he reaches over and turns the burner off for you. It’s his next move that really pisses you off. A smug smile tugs on the corners of his lips as his hand ghosts over the stovetop to the edge of the saucepan, and then glides across the rim of it, gathering a small sample of sauce. “Don’t you dare.” You threaten him. “It was your fault that I ended up soaked on that mission today, you’re not eating anything I’m cooking tonight.”

“Soaked, hmm?” Bucky repeats the word, giving it a much filthier connotation as he raises a brow at you. You shake your head, stepping forward as he lifts his hand closer to his mouth, his gaze focused on the sauce on the tip of his flesh index finger.

“You know what I mean.” You huff, reaching for Bucky’s arm to stop his movement.

“It was my fault that you ended up soaked.” Bucky says the sentence slowly as he thinks about you being soaked in an entirely different context. You poke his chest with your wooden spoon before grabbing his flesh wrist and pulling his hand toward you, effectively stopping him from tasting the sauce.

“Why do you have to make everything sound so filthy?” You question, looking around for your hand towel so you can wipe the sauce off of his finger. It’s too far for you to reach without dropping his hand, and you’re sure as hell not letting him go now.

“I like seeing you flustered like this.” He teases. Secretly, he’s enthralled that you’re touching him right now, that you’re standing so fucking close to him. He came in here hoping to piss you off just enough to make you yell at him, to make you chase him out of the kitchen, to remind him that you don’t give a shit about him so he could go to bed tonight without thinking about you. Yet, here he is, enjoying every second in your presence.

Flustered. It only takes two seconds for you to decide that you’ve had enough of being flustered at Bucky’s words and actions. You’re always the one that’s flustered and he’s always the one that’s smug and cocky over getting a rise out of you. The action your body chooses to carry out doesn’t seem to go through the proper channels in your brain first, so you carry it out without pausing long enough to realize that it would be a mistake.

You pull Bucky’s hand closer to your face, look up into his eyes, and wrap your lips around his finger, sucking the sauce off as your tongue glides against his skin.

Fuck. You don’t hear the very audible sound of Bucky swallowing. You don’t hear the way every single thought jumbles up into a ball of incoherent words in his mind before disappearing altogether. You most definitely don’t notice the way his cock is quickly hardening, even though he’s wearing gray sweats and his growing bulge is somewhat obvious.

You did it, Bucky’s flustered. You’ve never actually seen him like this, with blush-tinged cheeks, blown pupils, and narrowed eyes. He’s looking down at you like he wants to rip his hand away from you and storm off, but he isn’t moving a muscle. Satisfied with your victory, you drop his hand and use the spoon to tap on his chest.

“I like seeing you flustered like this, James.”

---

With a hand wrapped around his cock and your name threatening to crawl past his lips, Bucky chases his release less than an hour after his interaction with you in the kitchen. The image of you sucking on his finger while you looked up at him through your lashes ruined him. It fucking ruined him. Bucky works his cock with no intention of prolonging his pleasure, he wants it over with. He wants to knock out this one, shameful orgasm and then figure out a way to get you back for doing this to him, for making him want you this damn bad. He wants to have you on your knees, swallowing his thick cock with tears on your face and lust in your eyes. He wants to have you naked in his bedsheets, crying out for mercy as he fucks you so thoroughly that you can’t tell where his body ends and yours begins. He wants to have you so hooked on his cock that even a day without it leaves you restless and on edge. He wants to hear you fucking beg for him.

Only a moment later, Bucky is cumming all over his lower stomach and abs, grunting as quietly as he possibly can as he imagines his entire load filling you. More than anything, Bucky hates that he doesn’t actually hate you.

---

It’s been two days since Bucky started avoiding you, two days since you sucked his finger into your mouth and gave him something to fantasize about. For the first time since that moment in the kitchen, you’ve found yourself in the same space as Bucky.

As Bucky finishes up his workout with various pieces of gym equipment, you’re in the sparring ring with your latest trainer. You go through trainers about as fast as Bucky goes through women. Bucky’s sure this new trainer won’t last through the week. He watches as the guy pulls his punches, leaving you with only the lightest of swings to dodge and block. He’s going too easy on you, playing it safe so he won’t hurt you, because he doesn’t think you can handle yourself if he comes at you full strength. Bucky saw the same thing last week when the guy was here for the first time. Honestly, he expected you to request a new trainer after that first session, but for some reason, here the guy is again, treating you like a little princess in the ring.

You’re light on your feet as you duck beneath another one of your trainer’s wide swings and then rise back up, landing a gentle punch of your own to his gut and sending him stumbling one step back. He’s quick to hold his hands up in defeat, shaking his head at your perseverance. You’ve been going at it for over an hour now, and although you’ve both been going easy on each other, it’s still cardio.

“I’m calling it for today. I’ll be back again on Monday and you can rough me up then.” The tall, broad-shouldered man promises with a smile. You let out a deep breath and nod your head as you start to unwrap the protective fabric from around your knuckles. Taking a few steps over to the far side of the ring, you steal a sideways glance at Bucky, who’s completely engaged in his own workout with a weight set.

“Rough you up? I don’t think we’ve gotten anywhere close to rough.” You joke, though it’s true. The man has been treating you like it’s your first week sparring, like you’re something to be handled with care and caution. You drop the sweaty fabric strips onto the mats before tugging your hair out of its ponytail and lowering yourself to sit on your knees on the mats.

“If you wanted it rough, you could’ve just said so.” Your new trainer is bold. Though he fights you like you’ll shatter with his first real punch, he takes risks with his flirting. That’s the only reason you haven’t requested a new trainer yet.

“Good to know.” You say coyly, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes and an innocent smile playing on your lips.

It was that innocent smile paired with the way you looked up that simultaneously twisted Bucky’s stomach into an aching knot, yet still managed to send all of the blood in his body straight to his cock. If it was him that you’d been looking up at, his stomach would’ve been fine. But no, you were looking at your fucking trainer, the man who clearly thinks you’re fragile and incapable of making it through a real sparring match. After a few more words are exchanged between the two of you, the guy leaves the gym, promising he’ll see you again after the weekend, unless you call for him sooner. Bucky briefly imagines himself hurling one of the heavy weights across the room to knock the guy out of the door a little faster, but that would cause more trouble than it’s worth.

He was going to ignore you. Honestly, he was. He wasn’t going to let himself interact with you, for his own sanity. But his deeper desires are repeating like a mantra in the back of his mind. He wants to hear you fucking beg for him. He has to have that satisfaction. He’s thought about it enough over the last two days that he’s imagined it to the point of committing the fantasy to memory. He has to have it.

“I was wondering why you haven’t put in a request for a new trainer yet, since that one seems to think you’re too weak for a real sparring match. I get it now though.” Bucky says lowly, setting his weights down and lifting the hem of his t-shirt, using it to wipe sweat off of his brow. You narrow your eyes at him as you remain seated on your knees, stretching your arms up above your head. You know him well enough to know that he’s not done talking. “You want to sleep with him.”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” You laugh. You reach for your water bottle that sits a few inches closer to the corner of the ring, grabbing it and pulling it to your chest.

“Good to know.” Bucky repeats your words. He has a habit of remembering exactly what you’ve said and using it against you in various ways. It’s one of the things you hate most about him.

“What does it matter if I do want to sleep with him? You sleep with any girl that comes within ten feet of you, you can’t really judge me, can you?” You retort. Bucky watches with an amused smile on his face as you set your water bottle back down and grasp the hem of your own shirt. He thinks you’re going to lift it just as he lifted his own earlier, to wipe sweat off of your brow. In retrospect, he should’ve left the gym when you lifted your shirt over your head, removing it and dropping it on the mats beside you.

“You think he’d be good in bed? He won’t even throw a real punch at you in the ring. He’d probably fuck you so softly you wouldn’t even feel it.” Bucky scoffs, letting his eyes roam down your body as you’re taking another sip of water. You sit there in black leggings and a matching black sports bra, on your knees, making him question every decision he’s ever made with your appearance alone.

“Maybe he thinks throwing real punches at a girl would dampen the mood.” You lie. You know Bucky’s right. The guy would be a bore in bed, but you can keep up the façade for a bit since it seems to bother Bucky so much.

“Because he doesn’t know you very well.”

“And you think you do?”

“I think I know more about you than he does.” Bucky slowly approaches the sparring ring, keeping his eyes trained on yours the whole time. You don’t move from your spot on the mats.

“List one thing.” You dare him.

“A real sparring match with a man would do the opposite of dampening your mood.” Bucky pulls himself up on the side of the ring, sliding through the ropes with ease and coming to stand a foot in front of you. He studies the way you look on your knees in front of him. He memorizes it.

“You think sparring would be like foreplay for me?” You ask, already knowing that that’s exactly what he’s insinuating. You don’t know why you let him talk to you like this, why you let him cross every single professional boundary again and again. But here you are, on your knees in front of him as he stares down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Do you want to prove me wrong?” Bucky holds his hand out to you, awaiting your decision.

Your back slams against the mats for the third time, knocking the wind out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for air. It takes you a few seconds to catch your breath before you bend your knees and run your hands over your face. When you move your hands, you see Bucky standing above you and a little to your right, looking as smug as ever. He’s practically getting off on throwing you around like this, or at least that’s what you think he’s getting off on. He’s really getting off on hearing all of the heavy breaths, gasps, and soft whimpers that have been leaving your lips over the course of the last fifteen minutes.

“Maybe I should’ve given you a safe word.” Bucky taunts, holding out a hand to help you up. You swat it away and take a deep breath before moving into a sitting position and then rising to your feet. You’re quick to assume a defensive position once again, though you’re learning that being on defense against Bucky is the wrong move.

“I don’t think this is intense enough to require a safe word, unless you think you’ll need one.” You huff. The two of you begin moving in a slow circle around the ring, sizing each other up once again.

“You sure about that? How much more can you take?” Bucky challenges you. You exhale slowly as you fight to calm your racing heart and come up with a plan of attack.

“I can take whatever you have to give me.” You must’ve spent too much time around Bucky lately, because the innuendo that just left your lips is on par with the kinds of things he normally says. He falters at the implication of your words, letting his hands fall away from his defensive position for just a moment. You take your shot, rushing forward and shoving his chest with both hands as you lock your ankle around the back of one of his knees and knock him off balance. He goes tumbling backward, but before you can break away from him to maintain your own balance, he grabs your wrists and takes you down with him. You land on top of him on the mats with a soft thud. You begin scrambling to take control of the situation, attempting to free your wrists from his hold to pin his arms down on the mats. A low laugh erupts from Bucky’s chest as he witnesses your struggle. He actually finds it adorable that you think you have even the slightest chance at pinning down his vibranium arm. He lets you try for a moment, watching as you expend a little more of your energy, before he takes charge. Bucky easily breaks your grasp on his forearms and then grabs your right hand, tugging you down to his chest. He rolls you both over in one swift move, coming to rest half of his bodyweight on top of you.

“Do you say shit like that to your trainer? Or just me?” He has to ask. You see the tiniest semblance of jealously peeking through his question and it brings a smug smile to your lips instead of his, for once.

“Do you need me to tell you that you’re special?” You tease, trying to free your arms from where he has them pinned down on either side of your head. He watches with poorly veiled amusement as you struggle beneath him. In an effort to gather more strength, you pull your knees up and place your feet flat on the floor, which lets Bucky’s lower body slide between your legs. Your sudden move catches him off guard and he just barely pulls his hips back before his erection has the chance to brush against the crotch of your leggings. You let out a soft sigh as you try once more to break out of his grasp and Bucky can feel his cock growing impossibly harder at your sensual sound. The next sentence that leaves his mouth is one that could take things in one of two very different directions.

“You look so fucking pretty when you’re struggling for me.” He says lowly. You freeze in an instant. When you meet his gaze, focusing in on his blue eyes, warmth suddenly begins to flood your body. You feel your breath hitch in your throat and a sheen of sweat form across your chest. Bucky notices every little physiological reaction he gets out of you. You liked what he said. You fucking liked it. A new boldness comes over him and he licks his bottom lip before biting into it and letting his eyes trail down to your chest. His gaze doesn’t linger there, but you can see the briefest appreciation in it as you lay there and let him look you over. Bucky wants to have you just like this, in his bed. But, if he can only have you like this on the gym mats, he isn’t going to waste the moment. Leaning down until his nose is almost brushing against yours, Bucky still keeps the majority of his weight off of you. He tilts his head to the side and lets his nose graze the shell of your ear. When you feel his lips against your earlobe, your eyes flutter shut and your breath hitches in your throat once again. “So. Fucking. Pretty.” Bucky repeats in a hushed whisper, emphasizing each word. You’re fighting to keep your legs in the exact position they’re in, they’re beginning to shake as you strain to keep them firm. Every single muscle fiber you have wants to take part in spreading your legs. Bucky can feel it. He can feel how badly you want to spread your legs for him, he can fucking feel it. He thinks he might want it even more than you do.

“What was the safe word?” You ask in a breathless whisper. You can feel the movement of Bucky’s lips curling into a devilish smile against the shell of your ear.

“I thought you said you could take whatever I have to give you.” He tsks. His warm breath fanning against your cheek is driving you absolutely insane, and it’s adding to all of the other sensations that are sending your body into overdrive. “You can take it, can’t you?” You’re trembling beneath him and he fucking loves it. You barely even think about his question before you find yourself nodding your head. In the back of your mind, you’re hating the way your body is fully complying with him, but for some reason it feels so good to do exactly what he wants.

“I can take it.” You whisper softly. Bucky pulls back to look into your eyes as his teeth press into his bottom lip.

“Good girl.” You reaction is instant and visceral. A whimper falls from your lips and your eyes close tightly as your legs spread all on their own, giving Bucky the freedom to press his clothed cock against you if he so wishes. But, he doesn’t. He’s completely mesmerized, entranced by your positive response to praise.

That was the moment Bucky realized that you have a praise kink. When you finally gathered yourself and opened your eyes to look up at him, the way he stared back down at you like he wanted to ravage you right there on the mats of the sparring ring sent a jolt of electricity through you. Yeah, you wanted him to do every filthy thing that was running through his mind in that moment. But it was Bucky Barnes. Bucky Barnes, the man who sleeps with anyone and everyone, the man who is never nice to you. You couldn’t let him have what he wanted, so you came to your senses and finished the fight. You shoved him off of you when he least expected it, sending him to land flat on his back beside you, and then you scrambled to your feet, quick to put a bit of distance between the two of you.

“Had enough already?” Bucky asked in a condescending tone, as he bent his knees and ran his fingers through his slightly damp hair, not making any moves to get off of the mats.

“I said I could take it, I didn’t say I would. Find someone else to fuck around with.” You spit the words back at him with sheer malice.

The following week was torture. Bucky, being the little shit that he is, decided to use your praise kink against you. Knowing your secret made getting under your skin that much easier for him. It started out small, with whispered praises in passing. He was leaving the gym one day when you were halfway through a heavy core workout, and as he passed by you, he couldn’t help himself.

“Look at you, sweating and panting but still looking so fucking pretty.” He said lowly as he passed you, shooting you a smirk as the words left his lips. It set a fire deep in your stomach, which you swore was due to rage, but really, it wasn’t. The heat from that fire went straight to your cunt. You finished your workout in record time before hurrying upstairs to your room and telling yourself how much you hate him while you gave yourself the pleasure you so desperately needed.

As Bucky teased you more and more, he began to become familiar with even the most subtle ways that your body would react to him. When he said just the right things, he could see your breath hitch in your throat, your posture straighten in the slightest, and your pupils dilate as you glared at him. Your eyes showed nothing but hatred but your body sang a different tune entirely, and he was feeding off of it.

It’s now a few days later, and Bucky has grown even more confident in reading your body language. You’re in the kitchen late at night, washing a mug you used earlier in the evening. As you stand at the sink with your back to the rest of the living space and hallway to the bedrooms, Bucky slips out of his room quietly. Honestly, he didn’t know you’d still be up and out of your own room. He was planning to grab a cold bottle of water from the fridge and get back to his sleepless night, but there you are, in those little pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt that almost makes the shorts pointless. When he joins you in the kitchen, you’re instantly aware of the heightened tension in the air around you both. You watch out of the corner of your eye as Bucky pulls the fridge open and retrieves a cold bottle of water. You listen as he unscrews the lid and takes a long sip, before screwing the lid back on and leaning against the island behind you. You continue washing the mug, spending way too much time rinsing the soapy bubbles off of the ceramic dish.

“You’re not going to look at me?” Bucky asks. His voice is tense, filled with anticipation. You refuse to turn around an face him. You finish rinsing the mug and shut the faucet off, shaking the mug over the sink to get off the excess water. As you reach to your left for the hand towel that sits on the countertop, Bucky suddenly rushes forward, reaching his arms around either side of you and letting his hands rest on the countertop. You try to act unbothered as you dry the mug and keep your breathing as even as possible. He isn’t even touching you. His chest is only an inch or two away from your back but the proximity makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “Come on, look at me.” Bucky coos. He leans down and lets his nose brush against your ear so lightly that it tickles and you pull your head to the side, away from him. As your heart rate increases and the warmth between your legs begins to grow, you start to think. He has the advantage. He’s had the advantage for a week now and you’re sick of it. You want an advantage of your own. As Bucky waits for a response from you, your mind races back to the night you sucked on his finger in this very kitchen. You got to him that night and he stayed away from you for days after that. You want that advantage over him again, you need it. So, you let that need guide your actions. As you inhale a deep breath, you turn your head and let your cheek brush against Bucky’s, catching him by surprise. He pulls away an inch and turns to look into your eyes. His surprise quickly fades into a look of pride as he sees you doing exactly what he wanted, looking right at him. “Good girl.”

“Bucky…” You feign a whimper, setting the mug and towel down on the countertop before mirroring his position. You place each of your hands right beside his on the edge of the countertop and lightly press your ass back against him. You’re not even a little bit shocked when his erection makes contact with your ass, you knew he’d been getting his own twisted enjoyment out of this little game. As you grind gently against him, he draws in a sharp breath and you face forward once again, glancing down at your hands on the countertop. “Look at how much bigger your hands are.” You say incredulously, noting the size difference as he peers over your shoulder. “I’m so glad we never tried to fuck, I don’t think I would’ve been able to take you.” You whisper.

Bucky stiffens behind you and you’re sure that you actually feel his cock throb against your ass before he pulls his hips away. In a flash, his hands are gone from the countertop and he’s retreating, leaving you by the kitchen sink.

That was the moment you realized Bucky has a size kink, the moment you leveled the playing field.

TAG LIST:

@sunnyhummingbee @gyokujyn @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13 @ordelixx @crist1216 @twlkdead @claireelizabeth85 @charmedbysarge @blackhawkfanatic @kentokaze @nyashonality @h2oaffirmations @lulawantmula @i-l-y-3000

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #mcu #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier

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angelltheninth · 2 months

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Lucifer Morningstar as Your Husband

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, married couple, domestic fluff, cooking, kissing, dancing, flirting, dates, gift giving

A/N: Me personally I think pre-depression Lucifer was the perfect husband.

Husband!Lucifer can't start his day without kissing you, they have the same function as morning coffee, both of you are very sluggish and sleepy without them

Husband!Lucifer never has someone else make breakfast for the two of you, he always has to be the to cook so he can show you how much his cooking skills have improved since at first they left much to be desired

Husband!Lucifer always finds time to text you back even when he has a really important meeting since you're are way more important to him

Husband!Lucifer sends you really silly texts when he's bored and wishes you were at the meeting with him, maybe... under the desk so you can take his mind of how boring everything is

Husband!Lucifer knows he doesn't need to buy you gifts for your anniversary yet he will do so every year, each one will be better then the last, not necessarily costing more money since that's no measure of his love for you, he only wants to see that smile on your face again and that is enough

Husband!Lucifer puts on your favorite song on the days you feel down and starts a slow dance with you, talking about your problem as you sway

Husband!Lucifer wants you to leave love bites on his pale skin because just a ring isn't enough in Hell, if you want others to know he belongs to you then you need to send a very strong, and very obvious, message

Husband!Lucifer tells you stories of his time up in Heaven and of his friends, admitting that sometimes he feels homesick, even after all these years

Husband!Lucifer kisses you with passion every time, his kisses are never lazy or tired, he wants to give you as much as you give to him, for you and only you are his equal in Hell

Husband!Lucifer thinks of you as his new home, you're where his heart is, where his new life is, and he will do anything and everything in his power to make you happy

#hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #lucifer morningstar headcanon #lucifer headcanons #hazbin hotel fluff #lucifer morningstar fluff #lucifer fluff #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #x reader

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iliektehhaxs · 2 months

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Task Force 141: Teaching You How to Ride

Pairing: Task Force 141/Reader

18+, MDNI

❥ Price

He’s slow about his lesson, making sure to tease you until you’re begging for it. He wants you eager, so needy that when you finally sit on his cock it slides in without a hitch, your wetness smeared across every inch of him.

Slow and gentle, Price knows how eager you are from how fast you grind into his bulge, so desperate to get off your little hips are already stuttering before you can actually ride him.

“Relax darling,” he says, a heavy hand at your waist. Slowly but surely, he guides you still, chuckling at the whine that leaves your lips.

“Can’t have you coming when you haven’t even had my cock, can we?”

He coos at you in that gravel-like voice of his, stroking your hair as his opposite hand makes quick work of his boxers. His grin stretches further when he sees how your eyes are drawn to his cock, standing at attention.

“See that doll? All for you,” he grins, pulling you closer.

He fists his length, dragging it between your labia, amused at how easily it glides in. Your legs shake when it catches on your sensitive clit, fingers digging into the bare skin of his shoulders.

You beg him for more, getting off to the tantalizing drag of it, so close and yet so far. The head of it, nice and pink, kisses at your entrance and you swear you nearly cry.

Satisfied with your depravity, he puts your hands on his shoulders and leers at you.

“Go ahead doll, take what’s yours.”

❥ Gaz

He takes his time with you, methodical in his approach. Comfort is his main goal, making sure you feel safe and secure above all else.

“Right there doll, that’s it…”

His voice trails off, focused solely on your comfort. Your movements are shaky, not quite certain what you should be doing, but Gaz is a wonderful teacher.

His hands keep you steady—up, down, you bounce on his lap, grinding yourself slowly. He guides you until you find that perfect rhythm that makes your brain go a little foggy.

“Just like that, you’re a natural,” he says, praising you with every rise and fall of your hips. You know he means it too, his eyes are practically glued to where his cock disappears inside your sopping cunt, sighing in bliss each time you throb against him.

God, he can’t get enough of you.

“Feels good,” you mumble, starting to pick up rhythm. Gaz’s smile widens in response.

“Yeah? You feel fucking heavenly babe.”

❥ Soap

Johnny’s always excited to fuck you, and this is no different. He makes certain you’re comfortable, but there’s a tension that lingers in the air, as if his self-control could snap at any second.

Praise drips from his lips like a leaky faucet, unable to stop if he tried. You’re just so pretty, practically divine, and the way you look with his cock pressed deep into your pussy…

“Hells fucking bells, yer killin’ me…”

You’re equally as wrecked and you haven’t even gotten to move—just the feeling of Johnny’s cock stretching you out makes your legs quake, holding onto the headboard for balance.

“I can’t do this,” you whine in frustration. “Too much baby, I can’t—“

“Course ye can bon, know ye can,” he gasps. “Look how ye take me, pussy’s made for me ain’t it?”

Johnny’s hands grip into your backside, rocking you forward, slowly building up that familiar wave of heat that makes you bite your lip and groan.

God, the restraint it takes him to not fuck up into you with no remorse. He has to keep reminding himself this is your first time, but damn if you don’t look like a fucking natural riding him.

The wet slap of your hips meeting is proof of that, moving faster when Johnny’s hand squeezes your ass appreciatively.

“Keep it up, and I’ll give ye a reward for yer troubles.”

❥ Ghost

Nothing’s very gentle about Ghost, so when it comes to your lesson he’s a bit more…rough in his approach. Don’t expect him to go easy just because it’s your first time.

His cock punches the breath out of your lungs, the sheer fullness of it making it almost hard to breathe.

Ghost finds it adorable.

“Simon, too big,” you cry, nails digging into his arms. His deep laughter is your only warning before he pushes you further onto his cock, the wet squelch of your pussy like music to his ears.

“I know darling, I know,” he rasps, still keeping your hips flush to his. “But how else you gonna learn? Just gotta get used to it.”

His words seem comforting, but his tone is mean, mocking. Beneath his mask you’re certain he’s smirking at how wrecked you look.

“Besides, look at that,” he says, bringing your hand to your stomach. Your eyes widen in surprise at the tiny bump you feel.

“Feel that? That’s all of me,” he hums, enjoying the way your cunt pulses at the revelation.

You can’t deny how fucking stuffed you feel. You’ve never felt so full, not used to the sensation before Ghost reminds you why you’re here with a heavy hand.

“Not your fault you’ve got such a tight cunt,” he says, bringing you back up just to drop you further onto his length. He watches you shake with interest, enjoying the way your mouth falls into a “o” as he uses you for his own pleasure.

“Just means we’ve gotta train it into the shape of my cock.”

credits to @cafekitsune for the headers!

#call of duty #call of duty smut #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost smut #captain price x reader #captain price smut #kyle gaz smut #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap smut #robo writes

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 4 months

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hii can i request a snow x reader in which reader is married to another men and snow attend a party and try to win reader’s heart/seduce to marry her to fullfill both destinies in gaining power and rule panem together

Birthright || Young!Coriolanus Snow x Capitol!reader

A/n: thank you for the request anon! please send through more requests of coriolanus snow cause im running out of ideas.

Warnings: swearing, smoking, slightly dark!reader and snow?

Wc: 2,089

Divider by @firefly-graphics

You felt his hand slither around the curve of your waist, coming to a rest on the side of your hip. A smile makes it your lip as he peppers kisses along your bare shoulder and the side of your neck.

"Happy anniversary again, darling wife," Your husband, Flint, whispers against your skin. "Happy anniversary, husband," Your hand reaches to the side of his face where he leans against your touch, a light sigh leaving his lips.

"Must we throw this celebration? I'd rather celebrate this special day with you alone, in our room, preferably with no clothes on," He smirks as you breathe out of your nose and turn your body towards him. "I wish nothing more than to do that but this party needs to go through. For the sake of us," You whisper the last bit as he understands what you meant.

You take ahold of his hands and guide them down your body to let them rest on your ass as he squeezes your flesh, letting out a low groan. "Let's get this over and done with then," His tone was flat as he starts walking towards the door, his hand still on your ass as you move it higher up.

Putting on a smile, the doors open revealing the lavishly expensive styled room. Flint spent a lot of money for this celebration to be perfect. It had to be perfect for you. It was not everyday you would be celebrating your one year anniversary.

Your dress hugged your figure perfectly, accentuating the curves of your body. There was a slit on the side of your leg and a deep cut at the front showing cleavage. You were always known to be best dressed in the capitol, and your looks were not forsaken; Flint knew he was the luckiest man in Panem all because he married you.

As you stayed by your husband's side throughout the celebration, chatting to Flint’s fair-weathered friends and discussing the latest gossips with their wives, you were oblivious to a particular somebody's stares from across the room.

Coriolanus Snow swirled the goblet of posca in his hand before taking a sip, his eyes glued on you from where he was standing. The conversation around him drowning out as he watches. Watches the way your husband would pull you closer to him every single time a man would get anywhere remotely close to you, even if he was just walking pass.

Coriolanus knew Flint was a fraud. His businesses were crumbling only after a year, though he kept up a façade, for the sake of his reputation and image. He was a corrupt man who was too greedy and couldn’t deal with the consequences of his impulsive decisions with a stiff upper lip.

Snow wondered how much he had to borrow from the bank to organise such a party like this. He wondered if you even knew that Flint was in serious debt. Someone like you shouldn't be put in such a position. Your reputation possibly crumbling just because of a young idiot like Flint who you were forced to marry for political reasons.

Coming from the wealthiest family in Panem who owns a number of successful business around the Capitol and has large assets in banking, it would only make sense that you married a man with nearly equal wealth, like Flint. His family had assets in transportation and the travel industry, with assets of hotels littered all around the districts.

Born filthy rich and being raised in that environment, you only settled for nothing less than what you were already brought up with. You were the most sought after and eligible wife in the Capitol. You were raised from the age of 10 on how to be the perfect wife, and you were just that at only the age of 21.

Coryo places his goblet down on a tray carried by an Avox and weaved his way closer to you. He knew he couldn't just approach you just like that so openly, especially with Flint close by. Flint didn't even know that Snow was keeping tabs on his crumbling business and knew his dirty secrets.

And he had no idea that Coriolanus has been after you since, well, the day he laid eyes on you. You weren't a stupid person, quite the opposite. Intelligent, obedient, disciplined, stunning, rich, perfect, what else could the future president of Panem possibly want?

Snow always thought that you deserved more than to be with a guy like Flint. Your husband didn't deserve you at all, no, but someone like Coriolanus Snow did. You screamed authority in the marriage, and you would be perfect for First Lady. He always fantasised about you in that position, you walking around the presidential mansion, your children running around. The both of you standing infront of all of Panem, together, untied.

And he intends to make his fantasies come true. And so there he stood, only a few feet away from you, your eyes fixated on the goblet in your hand, a smile on your face when Flint kisses you cheek, though the smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

And as quickly as it appeared on your face, the smile disappears. “Snow!” A voice calls out making you look up and make eye contact with him. Coriolanus narrows his eyes at you before turning his attention to whoever called out to him.

“Festus,” He flatly says, tone bored as he tucks his hands deep in his deep red jacket. The second Festus opened his mouth to talk, Coriolanus caught glimpse of your leaving figure, his eyes watching you as you look over your shoulder. The two of you maintaining eye contact as you silently tell him to follow you. “Hey- Where are you going” Coryo pushes past Festus’ protests, making a beeline to the door you just walked out of.

You were slightly bewildered when you saw Coriolanus standing just a few feet away from you. His return to the capitol hadn’t reached your ears, and there he was, in his full glory. You had to admit though, what he pulled off in the 10th hunger games with Lucy Gray, bold move.

“Why, Coriolanus Snow,” The clicking of your heels came to a halt as you turn around. Coryo quietly shuts the bathroom door behind him, locking it, as you raise an eyebrow at him and fold your arms over your chest.

“Y/n,” He nods his head at you, a smile on his face. “Any reason you wanted my attention?” With a slight tilt of your head, he chuckles, removing his hands from his pockets and locking them infront of him.

“Nice celebration your husband has thrown for you,” Coriolanus nods his head at you as you try and refrain from scoffing out loud. “How much did he take from the bank this time-“ “What do you want from us?” You cut him off sharply, getting agitated by the second.

He opens his mouth, but you beat him to it. “What do you know about my Husband, Mr. Snow.” You sigh, walking over to the bathroom bench whilst pulling a joint and a lighter from the cups of your dress. Coriolanus eyes widen the slightest when he sees you lighting the blunt.

You raise an eyebrow at him, inhaling the toxic smoke before exhaling, “What? Never seen a woman smoke before? Want a hit, Snow?” You chuckle, leaning your head back against the mirror, your hand with the blunt reached out towards him.

You don’t know why you exposed yourself in front of Coriolanus when only Flint and the servants at home knew you would smoke from time to time. For some twisted, odd reason, he brought comfort to you.

Coriolanus could feel his eye twitching at the sight. He had never seen a woman, of your kind, smoking. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on even the slightest. The way your pretty lips wrapped around the joint brought his mind to filthy places.

His eyes go over your body, head to toe, his eyes lingering on your exposed leg with the slit. You catch him staring as Coriolanus clears his throat.

“I know your circumstances,” He finally speaks, “Oh?” Coriolanus wets his bottom lip, “His businesses are falling, and he’s about to be bankrupt. Soon, you’ll lose everything to your name.” You stare at the man. How he knows about this boggled your mind. Coriolanus Snow was many things, but you didn’t quite take him for someone who spent his time keeping an eye on someone like your Husband.

“I know,” You say, close to whisper as you flick the ash from the end of the joint into the sink. Coryo was stunned to say the least. He was practically sure that you had no idea about it, though it would make sense that you would since he was your husband.

But you didn’t seem fazed one bit. Flint’s businesses have been plummeting for well over 6 months now, and yet you would always appear at every event dressed in extravagant, expensive clothing. You walked around as if nothing was happening, fake it ‘till you make it I guess.

But in truth, you were far from being okay in the inside. “Do you know how fucking embarrassing it is to ask for money from my own family because my Husband can’t afford to take care of my needs?” You furrow your eyebrows as you inspect the joint in between your fingers.

Coryo moves close to you, his body leaned up against the wall. “Who would’ve thought, If I knew Flint would end up bankrupt and be a horrible businessman, I would’ve knocked abit more sense into my parents.” You chuckle as Coryo joins.

“So, what was the point of wanting to see me?” You look up at him. “You don’t deserve to live like this, knowing soon you’ll lose everything to your name. The Capitol won’t be very kind to you Y/n, or your parents.” He points out. And you knew that he was right. A Y/l/n, stripped from wealth and privilege. That would go down in the history books.

“Do you know why I came back?” Coriolanus meets your eyes as you shook your head, “I didn’t even know you came back until today,” You admit as one corner of his mouth upturns.

“Let’s just say, I have a very bright future ahead of me,” He chuckles, his gaze on the floor as you listen. “And I need someone by my side, I can’t be the only one to bask in wealth and authority,” His gaze lands on you as you stare out in front of you, occasionally bringing the joint to your lips.

“Someone by your side? Like who?” You played dumb when you knew damn well Coriolanus meant you. Why wouldn’t he. “Don’t act dumb on me know Y/n,” He smirks, “You were born to be in the public eye, live in lavish houses, wear only the finest clothes and jewelry, power. It’s basically your birthright, am I wrong?”

Coriolanus moves to stand in between your legs as you look up at him through your lashes. His eyes lingered on your chest as he had a perfect view of them, the way they were practically pooling out of your top. You take one final hit before stubbing out the joint, and sit up to close the distance between the two of you.

His offer was enticing. The lords have answered your prayers. “You’re not wrong, but there’s just one tiny little problem.” You bite your lip lightly, wondering if you should even point it out because Coriolanus would already know. “My husband. Something that tragic would have to happen to leave me, single. If I divorced him later on, I’m afraid it would be too late,” You flicker your eyes to Coriolanus who wore a small smirk on his lips.

“Very tragic, my dear,” He lifts your chin up before dropping his head and capturing your lips with his into a deep kiss. When knews came that your Husband had mysteriously died, you immediately went to see Coriolanus. When he looks at you from his chair as you stand infront of him, a victories smile is etched onto his face, “Snow lands on top,” He voices out, his hand reaching out to you.

You gladly take his hand and sit on his lap, “Snow lands on top,” You echo, smiling against his lips before kissing him.

#fanfiction #tom blyth #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #tom blyth imagine #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #tom blyth x you #coriolanus snow x reader #young president snow #dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow imagine #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #tbosas #tbosas imagine

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