#MY BODYS CALLIN YOU!!!

[heathersapples]

Cara 'e buena y en la cama doy duro - Chulo pt.2 (ft. Toksicha and Young Miko)

[mcondance]

hotch and that jacques remix of body party……..

[nanaslutt]

Ok so I was thinking about soul swap (??) With gojo. Gojo doing🫣 stuff to his body in which readers soul is from readers body. Or can have reader doing stuff with her body..hope u understand kinda high rn. 😵‍💫😵‍💫

Body swap with Gojo

contains: fem reader, masturbation (m&f), reader & Gojo’s perspectives, perv!gojo & reader, multiple orgasms, “first orgasm” (experienced as the opposite sex), dirty talk, teasing, mutual pining

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Gojo this is fucking serious!" You yelled, still getting caught off guard when Satoru's voice could be heard in your ears even though you were the one talking. "Okay okayy, I'll text Ijichi to come to get us, relax your little head." He responded in your voice. This whole thing was so fucked up. The two of you were fighting some curse together-- Gojo had no real reason to be there but he insisted on it for "safety reasons" (he was bored). You had gotten hit once by the curse right before you finished it off, and nothing strange had happened until Gojo came up to you and laid his hand on your shoulder to make sure you were alright, and that's when it happened—the soul swap.

Gojo pulled out his phone and held it out in front of himself, waiting for the face ID to scan him in. The man that currently resided in your body shook the device, frustrated. "Oh, this fuckin'..." He gave up, typing in his password as the device buzzed again and again, refusing to let him in. His antics made you giggle, turning your head to the side you sniffed to conceal any laughter he might pick up before you went back to watching him call for help.

"Ijichi? Heyyy, little problem~" Your higher-pitched voice reverberated through his speaker, no doubt confusing the poor overworked man on the other end. "Why do I have Gojo's phone? Funny you ask.." Gojo went on to pace around the area, throwing your hands up in the air as he explained the situation to Ijichi. You took the opportunity to look down at your temporary body, running your hands down the sides of Gojo's massive coat, which actually fit him. You felt the hardness underneath his clothes, pouting your bottom lip out in surprise, you figured Gojo would be fit, but you never knew for certain.

You had been a teacher at Jujutsu High for as long as he had, and the two of you had gotten quite close—which is why you didn't put up a fight when he insisted on coming on this mission with you, now you were starting to regret your decision. "Checkin' out my body while I was callin' for help? Perv~" Gojo teased, blocking your body off in a cross with his arms dramatically as he spoke. "Don't flatter yourself Satoru, you had something on your jacket." You lied through your teeth.

"It feels weird to hear my own voice chastise myself.." He pouts, placing a hand on his hip. "Yeah, well it doesn't feel great to see you flaunting around in my body either." You respond, holding a dejected look on Satoru's features that he probably has never made in his life. "Oh? you don't like me inside you?" He teased, covering his mouth as he giggled mischievously. "Please don't say gross things in my voice," you responded, rolling your eyes as you started to make your way out of the run-down building so Ijichi could see the two of you from the street.

"You're so serious~" He teased, using your shorter legs to run up to you and wrap himself around your arm, leaning your head against his arm as the two of you walked. "Also why did you not tell me you had to pee so bad." He said, making you choke on your own spit as you stopped in your pursuit of the road. "You are not under any circumstances going to piss while you're in my body." You emphasized, making a point to look into his eyes when you spoke.

"Why? Don't want me to see your cunt? heh." He laughed, once again using his filthy mouth to defile your voice. "What do you think Satoru?" You said, deadpanning at him. "Ahh~ you make my face look so scary~" He teased, curling your body up to his own arm once more as the two of you pushed forth towards society once more.

Once Ijichi's car, and the anxious man himself, came into view, you pushed the body that was clinging too tightly to your arm off of you. "Are you two alright?" He asked, coming up to your body. "Oh, Ijichi ~ you're such a caring man~ why don't you-" "That Gojo Ijichi, don't forget.' You reminded, looking blankly down at the dark-haired man, who had started to blush at your words. After an apology from the nervous man, and a quick slap to your body's shoulder that made Gojo whine through his laugh, the two of you got into the car.

The drive had started off with more shenanigans from Gojo in your body, trying to fluster Ijichi, which you quickly shut down by slapping Gojo's large hand over your own mouth. After that though, the drive started to quiet down, the three of you falling into a comfortable silence save for the radio playing some generic song in the background to fill the void. You noticed Gojo had started to bounce his leg in your body, peeking out the corner of your eye you saw your head was tipped back on the headrest, your eyes were squeezed shut, and your lip was pulled between your teeth; you looked like you were in pain.

"Gojo." You whispered, making him drop his chin and look at you, before he smiled through the uncomfortably, "I wasn't lying about needing to-" You quickly cut him off, waving his hands in front of you, "I know, I know." You said, before heaving out a sigh, "This fucking suuuuck." You drawled, letting your own head tip back agaisnt the headrest as you heard your own voice giggle at your unfortunate situation.

—

"Satoru hurry!" You yelled, tapping your foot anxiously on the ground as you stood in front of the bathroom door with your arms crossed, waiting for Gojo to finish his business. "Don't rush me! It's hard to pee with a blindfold on you know." He sighed, your voice coming through the door muffled. You had tied Gojo's own pitch-black blindfold over his eyes before you let him go into the bathroom, making sure he couldn't see a thing. You wanted him to leave to door open so you could make sure he really didn't peek, but then you put yourself in his shoes and realized you wouldn't want Gojo to watch while you were.. so you abandoned that thought.

Right before you were about to yell at the man for taking too long again, he opened the door, the blindfold off of your eyes and in your hands. Your face tunred beat red, your jaw dropped and your lungs filled with profanities and curses, ready to spill but- "I took it off to wash my hands captain stick-up-her-ass, relax~" He said, giving you a smug look before he pushed past you and started walking down the hallway. You bit your tongue as you watched your body move down the hall, "Where are you going?" You asked, placing your hands on his hips.

"Well~ I was hoping you could show me to your room because.." He held your hands out in front of him before he gestured to your body, which was covered in dirt, debris, curse blood, you name it. You could feel a headache start to come on, rubbing your fingers against his temple you sighed, realizing he was going to have to take a shower. You followed in his footsteps down the hall as you passed him, leading him to your room. "Thank you~" He cooed, a pep in his step as he followed behind you.

Once you reached your room you gripped your hand on the top of the door as he slipped under your arm and made his way into your room. You were caught off guard for a second, you knew Gojo was big, but you never really realized your size difference until now. Feeling yourself grow hot in the face you quickly snapped yourself out of it as you followed him into your room.

"Ahhhhh~" Gojo moaned in your voice, plopping him and his filthy body down on your pristine sheets. "You have two seconds to get off my bed before I use your own technique to kill you." You said with his deep voice, making him sigh as he reluctantly dropped his legs back down onto the floor and dragged his body off the sheets, standing as he crossed his arms at you. "Im tireddd, you seriously need to work on your stamina." He said, rubbing your thighs with your hands, "This body is exhausted, I feel like I'm going to collapse." He complained.

You ignored his comments as you dug through your drawer, trying to find something sufficient for him to change into. You settled on a pair of shorts and a baggy t-shirt, collecting them under your arm you threw them in his direction, the man skillfully catching them in his hands. "You don't have anything a little sexier?" He said, holding up the ragged band tee in front of him while he tucked the shorts under his arms. "Please." You begged, your eye twitching when you turned to look at him.

"You should probably.." You froze, your face heating up at the words you haven't even spoken yet. "Stop making me look so bashful, it's unbecoming." He said, a face of displeasing spreading itself on your futures. "God- Fuck, please just go take a shower and don't.. don't- don't be weird!" You sputtered, throwing your hands in the air in defeat before you opened the door and stepped aside so he could leave your bedroom and head for the shower rooms. "Yes ma'am~" He cooed, looking up at you through your lashes at you while he walked past you and started down the hallway.

Once he was out of view, you shut your door behind yourself as you slid down the wood dramatically, burring your face in Gojo's massive hands as you tried not to think too hard about what he might see, or what he was going to do with your body.

--

Gojo locked the door to the shower rooms behind him, screw anyone else that needed to wash up he needed to be alone right now. Your pleas and begs to not look at your body too long or be weird with yourself getting thrown out the window when your frame came into view in the full-length mirror that was in the bathroom before the shower stalls. He whistled at what he saw, turning himself around he looked over your shoulder and stared at your ass through the mirror.

Gojo was having the time of his life checking out his new temporary body. He was astonished at how pretty you still managed to look with messed up hair and ruined clothes. He stared intently at your body as he turned back around and started unzipping your jacket slowly, biting his lip when your body clad in a tight black t-shirt came into view. "Fuck, this is insane." Gojo laughed to himself, feeling a familiar yet unfamiliar warmth blossom in your stomach.

He let the jacket drop to the floor before he crossed his arms over your body and gripped the bottom of your shirt as he slowly dragged the fabric up and over your head, a shaky breath escaping your lips when he saw your bare flesh, the top half of your figure only being clad in a bra. "She'll never know." He giggled to himself before he turned around again, slipping your fingers under the hem of your pants he slowly and seductively slid them down your body, the heat in his stomach growing when your pantyclad pussy came into view as he kicked the pants to the side.

"Who knew all I had to do to get you naked was to do it myself." He said, watching himself in the mirror. Fuck, your voice was turning him on. He might be the one in control of your body right now, but the soul residing inside was still Gojo Satoru, the man who got hard watching you stretch your arms over your head before you spared. He turned around and reached his hand behind his back to unclasp your bra, biting his lip and smiling when he felt your tits fall freely in the air.

"Fuck." He wined in your voice, making your body grow wet as he slid the garment off your body and let it join the pile that had built up on the floor. He brought your hands up to your breasts as squished them together, kneading the soft mounds in his hands, pinching your nipples, jiggling them around, he touched and manipulated them in all the ways he could thing, all while he giggled at his own ministrations. "Now to see this cunt~"

--

Back in your room, you were still on the floor, your head had left the confines of your hands as it rested against the door with your eyes shut. You were going over in your head the way you looked from his point of view; how much smaller than him you were, the height difference, his deep voice, how warm his body was, how- what the fuck was that? You swore you felt something twitch in his pants. You dropped your gaze hesitantly to his lap and noticed a large tent was poking up right where his crotch was.

You had got to be joking. While fantasizing in his body, you had accidentally riled yourself up to the point you were sporting a boner? This was unreal. How did it go away? How long would it take? Oh god, why was his pervy body so sensitive? You did notice the familiar warmth in your lower regions, only in this body, instead of almost feeling your arousal throughout your whole body, you felt it more focused on his crotch.

You bit your lip, shutting your eyes as you tipped your head back against the door again. You couldn't stop your mind from wandering back to all the little things you noticed while being in his body, you wanted to stop you really did, you could not be like Gojo, you were not a perv, you were not a hypocrite.. but one look couldn't hurt anything right? Gojo would likely be in the bathroom for a while, he would never know if you just looked at it, right?

With a heavy sigh, you stood up and walked up to your full-length mirror, unzipping his jacket quickly and throwing it on your bed you lifted his shirt up on his body and stared at his insane physique. His abs seemed to glow under the light in your room, and the indents and muscles on his frame seemed to go on forever. How did he manage to stay so fit when he was constantly eating all those sweets? Men..

The bulge his body was sporting in his slacks made the whole view look so much more erotic, you bit your lip, your breath picking up the more you shamelessly gazed at his body in the mirror. You lifted his shirt more to get a view of his rock-hard pecs, a shaky breath leaving his lungs at his long and toned torso completely unobstructed by clothes to your eyes. You had already come this far.. looking a little more wouldn't hurt right? It's not like you were going to touch anything and besides! Gojo was absolutely doing the exact same thing right now.

Although the thought of Gojo checking out your body the way you were doing to him right now made your face heat up, you once again felt that same twitching under his pants. "Ugh, fucking quit that!" You chastised his dick, your face scrunching up in annoyance as you spoke to it.

You slipped his fingers under his waistband, you slid the fabric down lower- his v-line became more visible to you, lower- a white happy trail was exposed, lower- the base of his cock was unveiled as you could now see it throb under your gaze. You slid his pants down to about his mid-thighs, biting your lip as a shaky moan left his lips, making you feel dizzy at the erotic sound. His cock dripped a thick drop of pre onto the floor beneath you as you watched it hang freely in the room, twitching in the air.

He was so big it almost made you mad, realizing at that moment his cockiness and confidence not only came from his good looks and impressive talent but also from his massive cock. You dropped to his knees, perching yourself on them as you pulled up his shirt and bit the fabric between your teeth, letting yourself have a full view of his body. "Fuck." You moaned, the sound coming out muffled from the fabric tucked between your teeth as you let his warm hands come up to caress his body.

You felt every indent and ridge his body had to offer as you smoothed his massive hands over his body. Any guild you might've felt earlier being washed away at the unreal sight in front of you. The throbbing in his crotch was becoming unbearable the longer you worked yourself up. You tried to stop your hands from dropping any lower, you really did, but when you felt the way his hand wrapped around his cock, the relief, the pleasure, you had no regrets.

--

Gojo sat on the floor of the shower with a slack jaw as he watched your small fingers piston in and out of your tight cunt, moaning and whining at how warm and wet you felt around your fingers. "S-Satoru, Satoru-" He moaned in your voice, getting himself off on hearing your voice moan out his name. "Fuck- this feels so fucking good-" He whined, tipping his head bak agaisnt the shower wall.

He thought fingering himself would feel uncomfortable, but he was sorely mistaken. Your body was made for taking things inside your tight little cunt, the feeling of pleasure immediately washing over his body from just sliding his fingers inside your cunt. He had already cum twice from fingering your body and rubbing your fingers over your sensitive clit, he just couldn't get enough. He had no idea how long he had been in there for, but the water was still running hot so it couldn't have been that long.

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, yesyesyes-" He moaned in your voice, wanting to get the most out of this experience while he could, he didn't know if he would ever get to be this up close and personal with your body again after all. He tweaked your nipples in his fingers, biting your lip as loud moans echoed off the walls of the bathroom, his hips humping into your fingers as he felt himself approach another orgasm.

"Soooooo fucked- heh- S-so fucked up" He groaned, your voice raising in pitch as he fought the urge to keep your legs apart, moaning out his name once more when he came. Your body curled in on itself as he continued fucking his fingers in and out of your cunt, working himself through the orgasm. "A-ahhh ngh- fuck-" He wined, pulling his fingers from your walls as your legs snapped shut, and your cunt clenched around nothing. The friction your thighs brought on your sensitive cunt as you came down from your orgasm felt heavenly.

Your body relaxed under the pelting water droplets hit his body, your gasps filling the bathroom as he tried to catch his breath. Gojo couldn't help but think how much better it felt to come as a woman, he felt like his whole soul left his body each time he came, the electricity that zapped through his whole body and made his mind cloudy was a feeling that could not be beat. He almost started mourning the curse you had killed, he wanted to experience this all the time.

With a sigh he pulled himself off of the floor, standing on shaky legs as he shut off the water and giggled to himself as he took the towel down from the side of the shower. "Fuck, it feels a little sore down there.. hope she doesn't notice, heh." And with that, the white-haired man started to dry off your hair and dress your body back up in the nice clean clothes you had given him.

--

"Fuck- fuck- o-ohmygod" You rapidly stroked your hand over his cock while you stared at Gojo's body in the mirror. It was a weird feeling, being aroused by this body while you had full control over it, but the fucked up situation almost made it more exciting. Gojo's balls felt so heavy and warm under your palm as you massaged in between your fingers. His back arched in the mirror every time you ran your hand over the sensitive tip of his dick.

It had taken you a minute to get used to the feeling and to find the right rhythm, but once you did, you were going fucking insane. You don't know how Gojo had lived his whole life with such a sensitive cock, every time you stroked over his length his body jerked and twitched, pre cum dripped from his dick, and his breath hitched, it was a mess. His needy whines and deep groanes you had occasionally let slip was driving your arousal up the walls, the way his abs clenched under your ministrations, and the feeling of his cock twitching when the stimulation got too much; you were feeling drunk.

"Right fucking- there- yess~" You groaned in his voice, stroking his cock slower but rougher as you squeezed your fist tightly around him. You wished you could fuck someone while you were in his body. If his hand felt this good, could you imagine how a mouth felt around it? Or a pussy? An ass? The possibilities and fantasies you were painting in your head were making his balls tighten, a familiar feeling coiling itself in the pit of his stomach.

"Shit, think I'm gonna cum." You vocalized, wanting to hear his voice, as the effect it had on you was embarrassing. You might be incapable of saying the filthy shit Gojo says on a daily basis, but you were sure as hell good at moaning and vocalizing your pleasure when something felt good. You wanted to hear how his voice sounded when it moaned out your name, but the embarrassment was too much, just thinking about it made you blush.

Your breath picked up as you thrust his hips to meet your strokes, both losing rhythm as you brought his body closer and closer to orgasm. "A-ahhh- fuck its coming its- fu-fuck-" You groaned, watching with a slacked jaw as long ropes of cum spurted out of his dick. Some of the ropes coated his hand and eased the slide on his cock as you stroked him through his orgasm, some being shot out onto the mirror in front of you, making the whole scene look pornographic.

His orgasm felt different from the ones you were used to, but it felt just as good. The heat was stronger in the pit of your stomach, and his cock was ten times as sensitive as your clit usually was right when you came. You felt different afterward too, a wave of shame and realization flooded over you when you realized what you had just done. "Ughhhh.." You groaned, being able to blame the unreasonable hornieness on this new body of yours as you washed the shame from your head, using a nearby towel from the other night to wipe off your dirtied mirror and his sensitive cock.

You winced and sucked a breath in through your teeth at the oversensitivity you felt while you wiped off his softening cock; silently curing him as it was still massive when it was flaccid. As soon as you tucked his cock back into his pants and straightened his apearance back up, you heard a knock on your door that nearly sent your soul flying out of your body.

"Let me innn, it's cold out here~" You heard your voice whine from the other side of the door. You took a deep breath before you walked over to the door and pulled it open, being faced with a damp-haired you. "Why do I look like shit? My face is so red." Gojo complained, walking past you as he dumped your clothes in your hamper before he walked over to your mirror to fix up your still-wet hair.

"Just got hot," You brushed off his remark. "How was your shower?" You asked, avoiding eye contact as you watched him fix your hair in the mirror. "Ohh you know~ Hot." He giggled. You rolled your eyes at his words, dismissing him as you plopped his heavy body on your bed and stared at the ceiling.

"I need to get my body back." You mumbled under your breath, making him look over to you from his place in front of the mirror, "What was that?" He asked, making you bite your lip between your teeth as you sighed heavily, replaying the last couple minutes over and over in your head. "Oh, nothing." You replied, biting the inside of your cheek.

part 2 :)

[leilanihours]

# TO MY BED

pairing: paige bueckers x reader

word count: 2055

warnings: smut (MDNI), fingering + head (paige receiving), almost not rlly public sex (they're on live idk if that counts)

summary: you can't help yourself when paige is sitting on your couch looking sexy as ever.

⭑ from lani: nearly collapsed when i saw the pics from tds live so heres this short smut 🤭 also chose this song bc it was on paiges freaky playlist so i just had to

masterlist !

“PAIGE, I’M HOME!” you announced as you dropped your keys onto the kitchen counter of your new york city apartment. you had just got back from practice with your new team, the new york liberty, and you were desperate for some quality time with your girlfriend.

“hey, y/n, i’m on live!” you hear from the living room. as you turn the corner you see paige sitting on the couch with her phone tilted against the glass vase on your coffee table.

normally she would’ve greeted you with kisses and eager hands but with thousands of people watching her every move, she had to control herself.

it was also an unspoken rule that if either of you were on live you would announce it when someone walks in the room so they would watch themselves. it’s safe to say that there have been many…incidents…on live that may or may not have almost exposed your relationship.

nodding to her, you go into your shared bedroom to change out of your practice clothes and into some house clothes. you were fairly warm from the workout, so you decided to put on a simple shirt and shorts before making your back out to where paige was seated.

“yo, you said y/n is there? lemme say hi!” you hear kk, your former teammate, say from paige’s phone speakers.

“kk wants to talk to you,” she says, handing you the phone once you sat down on the armchair across from the couch.

“hey kk! how you been girly pop?” you smile with a wave.

“i been doin’ real good, how ‘bout you? i know you been living it up there in new york with your new team,” she jokes with the last comment, playfully side-eyeing you through the screen.

“you can just say you’re jealous, it’s okay,” you add.

“and what if i am? you look better in blue and white anyway, not no seafoam green and black likeee.”

“man shut up, kk,” you laugh, giving the phone back to paige who has been quietly giggling at the interaction.

“you being a menace again, kk? this is what happens when y/n leaves, huh, you start actin’ up?” paige teases.

“who you callin’ a menace? you can’t talk with the way you jumpscared the entire internet with those island braids,” kk snickers.

“bro, it wasn’t even my fault!” she defends. she begins to talk about how a lady offered to do her hair and ended up doing her dirty.

for the first time since you got home, you are able to fully take in her appearance. she no longer has the full braids from the cruise, but rather a couple side braids on either side of her head, the rest of her hair in a simple ponytail.

she was wearing a white nike sports bra paired with white and black basketball shorts. there was a fluffy blanket draped over her shoulders - one that she had bought for the both of you when you first bought the apartment.

you subconsciously bite your lip as you continue to scan her body. the wide spread of her legs as she gets comfortable, the flex of her arms and abs whenever she adjusts the blanket, the way her tongue occasionally darts out between her lips as she talks. god, she looked sexy.

this girl could literally be doing the most normal, domestic thing but you would still feel the urge to rip her clothes off, similarly to how you feel right now. you clench your thighs together at the thought, wanting nothing more than to take her right there on the couch.

meanwhile, while you were completely zoned out, paige ended her story and looked up at you. with her own lip between her teeth, her eyes darken slightly when she notices you checking her out. she clears her throat to get your attention, making your eyes shoot to hers.

with a slight movement of her head, she wordlessly motions you to come sit next to her. you oblige, of course, the desire to be close to her too strong to resist. the sun has started to set outside your apartment windows, creating a warm, influential atmosphere in the room.

“you okay?” she whispers seductively as kk and kayla argue about something on her phone.

“mhm,” you nod, eyes trained on her pink lips. she smirks at your quiet state and decides to tease you even more.

she goes back to talking with the two girls on live, but sheds the blanket covering her to fully lean back against the couch cushions. her entire body is now on display. shit.

her muscles are defined as she crosses her arms and the smooth skin of her thighs is exposed as her shorts ride up from her adjustments. she knows exactly what she’s doing.

your lips part at the sight. you were currently out of the frame, but if you weren’t, thousands of people would see how down bad you are for her (as if they’ve never seen it before).

you get up from your seat next to paige to grab a drink from the kitchen in an attempt to compose yourself. as you take a deep breath and sip your sparkling water,

you look up to see paige’s hungry eyes on yours, a teasing smirk on her face. she returned to a sat-up position, blanket draped over her legs. you shake your head in pretend annoyance, not wanting to give into her just yet.

with a plan set in your head, you make your way back to the couch and set your drink on the table. however, when you retract your arm and “accidentally” knock the camera over, you set it back up so that only the top half of paige was visible, not her bottom half. 

“sorry, y’all,” paige says, “my blanket accidentally hit the phone,” she lies as she eyes you suspiciously, your actions not going unnoticed.

you simply smirk at her and kneel to the floor in front of her. quietly, you remove the blanket from her lap and begin to rub her thighs with your hands. her skin was cold to the touch but beneath that, she was burning up from the tension. slightly panicked, she widens her eyes for a split second before raising an eyebrow at you.

you look up at her as you start placing delicate kisses on her skin, making your way closer to her heat. your fingers find their way up to the waistband of her shorts and tug, silently asking for approval. she nods while one of her hands sneakily drifts to move some of your hair out of your face.

slowly, you pull her shorts down along with her boxers revealing her wet cunt. the sight of her already aroused by your touch turns you on even more.

you revert your attention back to the paige’s face. she is nodding absentmindedly along to what kk and kayla are talking about, her expression straight yet flushed from your actions.

finally, you slide two fingers into her with ease from her slick. she bites down on her lip harder to prevent herself from making any noise as you pump your fingers in and out of her at a relentless pace. you lick your own lips as you continue to observe her vulnerability because fuck she looks hot.

you continue to pound her pussy, occasionally curling your fingers in a “come here” type of motion. once you notice that she is getting more squirmish and shifting her hips to buck up against your fingers, you lower your head to lick at her clit. she puts her fist up to her mouth at this, eyebrows slightly furrowed. you can tell she’s trying so hard to have some decorum, but you were not making it easy.

as your tongue laps at her clit and your fingers ram her entrance, paige can feel herself nearing her release. her stomach is tense as her abs flex. the bright pink tint on her cheeks reflects how the rest of her body feels. she’s still covering her mouth when kayla decides to ask her if she’s okay, noticing her sudden silence.

“what?” she says, snapping out of her daze, “no, yeah, i’m good over here. just really focused on y’all’s conversation. what were you saying about that game from last year?”

you laugh into her cunt at her shaky cover up. the vibrations force a hushed “fuck” out of her, eyes widening at her slip.

“what was that, paige?” kk asks suspiciously.

“oh, nothin’ i just…stubbed my toe on the..table leg,” she sounds out of breath as she continues to lie, and she’s thankful for the overall poor quality of the livestream because everyone would be able to see small beads of sweat form on her forehead and her chest start to heave otherwise.

your fingers push against the special spot in paige’s pussy, making one of her hands fly down to your head, encouraging you to continue. you oblige and abuse that same spot, hitting it over and over in attempt to get her over the edge.

you raise your lips from her cunt so you can get a good look at her face when she comes. she senses the knot in her stomach tighten, and with a few more pumps of your long fingers, it snaps.

she lets out a long, shaky breath as she releases all over your fingers and the couch. even after this, you slowly keep pushing your fingers in and out of her as she comes down from the high.

when you remove your fingers and place a delicate kiss on her thigh, the tensity she didn’t even know she had in her shoulders is gone as she tries to catch her breath as discreetly as possible.

kayla is still caught up in sharing one of her stories from one of her classes, but kk has paid close attention to paige’s behavior and noticed the abnormality of it.

there is a confused look on her face until she realizes that you were still in the room with paige, and awfully quiet might she add, when you were typically very chatty and bubbly. her jaw drops as she quickly sits up and begins to laugh.

“okay so boom i think we gotta end the live now y’all!” she says hurriedly, still laughing.

“wait what?” kayla questions.

“i think paige has to meet up with someone in a bit, right paige?”

now paige’s face is scrunched up in confusion. it’s not until kk raises her eyebrows knowingly that she understands what she means.

“ohhh, yeah you know what i totally forgot i had somethin' tonight,” she plays along, “but i’ll text you guys soon?”

“nah it’s all good,” kk continues tease, “ion expect to hear from you for a while…or y/n.”

“i’m so confused. what is happening?” kayla sighs.

“paige is just a real busy girl, i guess,” you hear kk say.

you laugh at kayla’s confusion and kk’s antics. kk’s ears practically perk up at the sound.

“alright bye y/n, bye paige, bye kayla, hope y’all have fun doing…whatever…” she smirks through the phone.

“bye y’all,” paige responds.

“okay…bye…i guess?”

and with that, the live has ended and you are suddenly thrown against the couch cushions. paige is now on top of you, trapping your body from moving.

you can tell from the way she pins you down that she couldn't wait to take you to your bed, the need for you too strong at the moment.

“you must think you’re so funny, huh?” her voice is low and enticing as she begins to rip your clothes off of you, lips attacking your skin, “almost got us caught. again.”

“couldn’t help myself,” you whisper, “looked so sexy just sitting there.”

“yeah? well since you wanna act like a slut in front of our friends then i’ll treat you like one. is that what you wanted?”

“maybe.”

“fuck, y/n, you’re gonna make me lose my mind one day,” she basically moans into your neck as she grinds her hips down onto yours.

you’re both oblivious to the text message that dings on paige’s phone, both too caught up in each other’s embrace to put your attention on anything else.

kamorea pop: y’all are so damn nasty.

— leilani signing off ! 📁

[backwzzds]

ೃ⁀➷ love me, connie springer (nsfw)

thinking about babydaddy!connie fucking you nice and slow after finding out you got stood up by your date. having little constentina (his idea, but tina for short) for the weekend, your precious angel just couldn’t keep her mouth shut to her daddy when you’d told her you were going on a small ‘dinner’

“she said dinner but that really means date, daddy.”

connie isn’t surprised. no one knew how to handle you beside him. i mean, he’s had your ass in place successfully for nearly ten years; only he was man enough to handle you, your mind, and most of all your body.

you loved connie like no other, you wanted no one else to be the father of your children. but you knew the streets would eventually take him away from you, and you just didn’t wanna stick around for that. not when you had a five year old girl depending on the both of you. connie looked for other ways to make bread without selling or doing anything…illegal but it was hard to match the stacks he was bringing home every weekend.

your separation was a one sided agreement anyways it seems. to you? you two were broken up. to connie delulu ass? you were his wife and you’re ‘smoking dick if you think ion belong to you and you’on belong to me.’

you didn’t even have any words for the absence of your so called ‘date.’. after an hour of waiting, you figured you’d call in to check on tina. ringing connie, your babyfather answered on the first ring, of course with a wood in his mouth and multiple lights on his face, signaling he was watching tv.

“hey,” your voice is solemn and low. you really were tired and ashamed to say anything more.

“hey mama, you okay?” connie’s hazel brown eyes quickly flick over to yours through the screen.

you shrug though he can’t see it. “i’m okay.” you admit. “just callin’ to check on my baby.” the frame was only on your face, but from the small shake of your hand, connie had managed to get a glimpse of a pretty black dress you’d sported, breasts looking three times as big as it usually did because of your sitting position. he could tell you dressed up for the night.

“yeah? she good, just upstairs sleepin’ right now. how was your date, pretty?” you hear connie turn down the tv in the background and give you his full intention.

you furrow your brows. “what? boy, how’d you know about it?”

your baby father blows out a huff of smoke and chuckles, flashing his gold canines. he wasn’t gon snitch on his lil informant princess. “i got my ways. tell me bout it baby.”

with a roll of your eyes, you let out a tired sigh and felt your shoulders sag. “wouldn’t know. the nigga never showed.”

connie furrows his own thick eyebrows. “what you mean? he told you he couldn’t come?” he asked. from the shake of your head, you see his face soften on the screen. “come over n’ smoke with me. lemme make you feel better.”

you kiss your teeth and throw your head back, already knowing where the conversation was headed. embarrassment flooded your expression. “you eating my pussy is not gonna make me feel better, constance.”

connie kissed his teeth and waved you off dismissively. “you’on know that.”

a blush can’t help but creep its way onto your brown cheeks. “i’m supposed to be staying away from you, ya know.”

connie gives you a knowing grin, shamelessly flexing the two deep dimples in his cheeks that constentina inherrited from him. “yeah? how’s that going for you, mama?”

“obviously not good because i’m actually considering your offer of being a booty call tonight?” you laugh.

“come onnn mama, tina’s sleep, i got a wood rolled for you and i want you here.” your ex compromised with a kiss of his teeth. “lemme rub ya feet and all on ya butt i promise you’ll feel better.

“i’m tired and don’t feel like driving, con,” you whine in the same tone. you knew if he didn’t have your daughter he’d already be at your door, but you refused to risk waking her up in a car ride over here.

connie rolls his eyes and puts you on pause for the moment. a minute later he comes back on screen and takes a pull of his backwood. “your uber on the way baby.”

“ooh daddy,” you cried, trying your hardest to breathe straight. “you know i cum fast like this, oh shit,” connie had your legs spread wide open, forcing your huge tits up against the bottom of your face as he pumped in and out of you.

“you like that mama, like when i fuck you nice and slow? all romantic n’ shit?” connie teased. tears streamed down your face and he wasted no time in kissing them from your pretty face.

you’re too far in euphoria to even fully comprehend exactly what he’s saying. “yes, i love when you stroke this pussy so deep daddy.”

connie holds your breasts up damn near to your face and takes his time sucking on each of your nipples, making sure to stretch and pull it all the way back as far as it could go, grinning at the sound of it snapping back toward you. “you’on need no one else to love you like this but me, you heard?”

you can’t help but shake your head, the small responsible part of you left that hadn’t been fucked out by connie yet (though he was close) was slowly bringing you to reality. “no,” you respond.

“nah, nah, dead that shit or imma stop,” your ex threatened, straightening his back out so he stood tall, yet still very deep inside your gummy walls. you can’t help but stare down the tattoos that littered his body; many dedicated to you and your shared daughter. “you grippin’ me so tight baby, boutta make me cum, fuck,” connie throws his head back and whines. “tell me you’re mine n’ we gonna get back together.”

“no, con,” your words were saying one thing, but the cream ring of your arousal forming around connie’s tanned dick was betraying everything leaving your mouth. “w-we’re we’re toxic—oooh, yes, right there right there!”

suddenly, a large pair of hands come to wrap around your neck, gripping lightly. “tell me you’re mine or im not fuckin’ this pussy,” he orders. “you know i don’t be bluffing, mama. ‘specially when it come to your spoiled ass déjame oírte decirlo.”

more tears fall from your eyes as you feel your lower region bubble in evstasy. “con—“

“say it if you wanna cum.” connie’s grip around your neck tightens as he inevitably starts to babble. he was not gonna let up off you no matter what. “come on mama, say it n lemme give you another baby. gonna make you a mama all over again, want you so full of my babies, pretty—fuck,” he breathed out. “you know daddy sorry, you gonna forgive him?”

it wasn’t until connie started to add his thumb rubbing circles around your clit did you finally fold and give in. “oh fuck, yes! yes yes i forgive you con—please—“

“go head and cum mami, te quiero.” connie breathed out, feeling his own orgasm approach. “te amo joder joder por favor dame más hijos mami te estoy rogando déjame correrte dentro de ti,” the man curses into the atmosphere as he strokes himself in you a few more times.

“yes yes,” you nod in response to his pleads of cumming in you. a nanosecond later, connie’s cumming deep into you until he ends up shooting nothing but blanks. you’re full to the brim to the point where drops of his cum couldn’t help but ooze out between your puffy cunt.

“dio mio.”

[kaiijo]

NICKNAMES — MIYA ATSUMU

pairing: miya atsumu x gn! reader content: timeskip! atsumu, fluff, suggestive

atsumu’s always liked nicknames, ever since he was little. it’s evident in his calls for “‘samu” and “omi omi” and “bokkun.” he’s never once called suna by either his first or last name; it’s always been sunarin.

atsumu can’t remember the last time he called you by your actual government name. it’s always baby, sweetheart, babe. you always grin at him when he does, pecking his lips and wrapping your arms around him.

but you still call him atsumu. not love or honey or baby, not even ‘tsumu. it makes him huff and pout and he’s honestly on the verge of a tantrum when he thinks about it. he uses every pet name under the sun for you and yet, to you, he’s just plain old atsumu.

the two of you are sitting on your couch, you cuddled under his arm, watching some show on netflix that neither of you are really paying attention to. your phone buzzes and you lift it, snickering at a message one of your high school friends sent you, and when you open up your messages with her, atsumu blanches at the contact name.

“baby!” he whines, making your head snap towards him. he detaches himself from you and crosses his arms.

you raise an eyebrow. “everything okay, atsumu?”

he only frowns further and points accusingly at your phone. “so, ya can call yer friend ‘goddess shimizu’ but ya can’t even bother callin’ me ‘babe’?”

you blink owlishly at him. “what are you talking about?” you set your phone on the sidetable and fully turn your body to atsumu, who’s sinking further into the couch cushions.

“why do you call me atsumu?”

“because that’s your name?”

“no!” he says, “i mean… why don’t ya call me anythin’ else? like any nicknames? ya don’t even call me ‘tsumu and literally everyone does unless they’re mad at me.”

you sigh heavily, “you’re not serious.”

“it just… i—”

your face softens as atsumu struggles to find the right words, and you place a tender hand on his knee. “atsumu,” you say gently and he glances at you. “i use your name because i like your name. it’s you. it’s yours.” your hand moves under his chin and you tilt his head. “you’re atsumu. you’re my atsumu.”

the possessive tinge to your voice sends a jolt of electricity down his spine. “yeah?” he says, mouth stretching into a dazed smirk. “i’m yours, huh?”

you reply, “yep, all mine.” you cup his face with one hand, stroking his jaw with your thumb. “as long as you want to be.”

“think yer stuck with me for a while.”

you chuckle, “i think i can live with that.”

atsumu pulls you to straddle his lap, running his hands up and down your thighs. your own hands settle on his shoulders as he asks, “can ya do me a favor, though?”

“sure, what is it?”

he blushes a little and says, “call me somethin’ cute once in a while.”

“hmm, like this?” you hum, leaning forward, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “baby.”

atsumu feels his brain turn mushy as you dip your head, pressing a slow kiss to the skin of his neck just below his ear. “love,” you drawl out again and the mindless chatter of whatever show you two were watching fades into static. atsumu’s stops rubbing your thighs, gripping them tight instead.

“sweethe—” your purr is swallowed by atsumu’s mouth in a fiery kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth, salacious and solicitous. your fingers card through his hair and you grasp a few strands, tugging and relishing in atsumu’s moan.

seems like you’ll be calling him a lot more than atsumu from now on.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Coming up with the idea to take Simon out so that he can pick out a couple pieces of lingerie he wants to see you in, his choices really surprise you.

Request from here.

The minute you brought up the idea, Simon was on board, ready to dish out whatever money he needed to spoil his princess. It seemed like a win-win: you get new lingerie and he gets the benefit of picking out a few items that only he would get to see you in. How could he ever say no to something like that?

The first day you were both off you headed out to the local mall, ready to go on a different kind of mission, one that already had Simon salivating and itching to finish so you both could get back with the items in hand. You did promise that as soon as you got home you’d model them for him and there was no doubt what would inevitably come next.

Walking into the Victoria’s Secret all 6’4” of Simon drew a few stares, but he didn’t care; he was focused on you just as he was any time you two went anywhere. Arms wrapped around your middle to hold your back against his chest as you both slowly made your way through the store.

“Remember, it’s what you want to see me in,” you reiterated the rules for this excursion.

“Best believe I remembered, luv,” he said, his gravely voice hitting you ear just right to make you shiver with anticipation. “Haven’t been able to think of fuck all else since you brought it up, but I think that was your fuckin’ plan.”

You passed by several things that you were sure he would have picked up, you did say anything so nothing was off limits and that included whatever string number he may want to strap you in. The point was to get him excited to chose the bit of wrapping he wanted around his present, not that he needed it. He’d take you in a trash bag and still think you were the hottest piece of tail around.

A severe lack of Simon around your body broke you out of your thoughts as he had let you go to walk over to a display off to the left of you. The way he locked on, it was clear something had caught his eye and you followed him over just as he picked up a bra and pantie set and handed them over to you.

Baby pink with a bit of delicate lace lining the top of the cups, a tiny silken bow in the middle along the rib band and the same matching bikini style panties that had a slightly larger bow on the back, that was his choice. It was very sweet and dainty, something a very soft girl would pick for herself.

“Really? This one?” you questioned, eyebrow raised curiously.

“You said to pick one I liked,” he said. “I like this one. Is that a problem, sweetheart?”

It wasn’t a bad choice at all, just surprising. Never would you have imagined Simon pick something so...quaint. In fact you were sure he would have gone straight for the string thongs or see-thru lace bras, so when he chose that one it caught you off guard.

“Not at all, just didn’t think you liked that sort of style,” you backpedaled, not wanting him to think he screwed up.

“I can like pretty shit too, luv. After all, I chose you, didn’t I?” he chuckled. “This is what I want to see coverin’ across that sweet arse of yours... well, until I get to admire it layin’ on my floor.”

Your cheeks flushed bright red. Fuck, how did he always do that? “I was the one that did the choosing,” you pushed the subject as you tried to dissipate the heat in your face.

“Oh, is that so?” he shot back coolly, moving back in close to take your chin in his firm grasp. “The one that still gets nervous probably wasn’t the one callin’ the fuckin’ the shots. Don’t force me to make that blush brighter just to prove my point, luv.”

Touche, he had won this round; you knew he would too, screw being in public. He wasn’t afraid of people staring as they had been staring at him his whole life, might well enjoy himself while he drew the eyes. You gave in and backed down, receiving a quick peck on your lips for your troubles.

“Now, let me finish my shoppin’ so that we can get outta here and get to the actual fun part,” he said with a smirk.

Lord, he was insatiable. That man could have your pussy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and still be hungry for more.

Going through the rest of the place another similar set he found after a bit more of searching, this one a pale yellow with a little silk flower in the same places the bow was on the first set. He handed over everything over to you so that you could double check the sizes and make sure it was correct before he took it back so that he could pay.

Always the gentleman to his girl.

That large palm was plastered to your inner thigh the entire drive back and every now and again he gave it a squeeze. His mind raced as his imagination ran wild with images of what you’d look like in his purchases: beautiful? Always, but these pieces were more delicate than the others you had and so he was curious to see just how pretty you’d look in them.

“You ready?” you asked through the door.

Once you got back, you left him sitting in his chair as you went off into the bathroom to get changed. He had chosen the yellow to go first, saving his real favorite for last. As you slipped everything around your curves, you had to admit that it was actually really cute and surprisingly not too uncomfortable as well.

Good job baby.

“Get out here now, beautiful girl,” he called back.

Opening the door slowly, you stepped out and sauntered your way to him, stopping just shy of the tips of his boots. Placing your hands behind your back, you stood twisting your body back and forth as you let him admire his choice.

Silently Simon eyed you up and down, taking you all in. “Well?” you asked after a moment.

Eyes came back up to meet your own. “Do a spin for me, darlin’,” he said, making a spinning motion with his index finger. “Slow like.”

Turning around smoothly at a steady pace, you came all the back around until you were facing him again. He was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, eyes locked to your body.

“What’s the verdict?” you asked again.

The corner of his mouth unturned. “I’ve got good taste,” he smirked. “Exactly what I fuckin’ wanted. You look amazing, sweetheart.”

His approval made you smile, excited that he liked it, even though you knew he would since he was the one to pick it out. That obsessive stare gave you new life; who wouldn’t want to be the object of Simon’s desire? “Should I try on the other one now?”

Simon nodded his head as he adjusted the crotch of his pants and you scurried back off to the bathroom to change, fueled by his intense interest in you.

The pink on slipped on just as easy and you actually enjoyed this one even more as it enhanced your skin tone to perfection and the little details were so sweet you knew why this one would be his favorite; you could hardly wait to go show him how good you looked.

Coming back out again you nearly ran straight into him as this time he was leaning against the door frame as if waiting for you. He didn’t say a word, but you swore you could hear his breath hitch in his chest as he gazed down at you in that soft little pink number. Calloused fingers came up to trace over the thin ribbon detail, following the curves of the mini bow in the center of your chest.

“This one I really fuckin’ like, sweetheart,” he purred in that gruff, low tone that set you alight.

You swallowed hard, your pulse racing in your veins already. “I have to admit you did really good baby,” you said. “Never thought you’d pick something so pretty.”

Fingers traced the line of the band under your breast along your ribcage before they came back up. “Like you in pretty, sweet things,” he said, slipping a thick finger into the top of the band between the cups. “Bows and flowers, light colors, that sort of shit. Suits you best, luv.”

“Aww,” you picked at him. “You going soft on me?”

That finger fully hooked itself into the fabric between your breasts and pulled you forward, making you take a step to bring you in closer until you were flush against his chest. Those amber eyes shimmered as he tilted his head down close to your neck. “All the shit I’ve to deal with at work, don’t ya wanna give this bastard somethin’ beautiful to touch?”

Well, when he put it like that…how could you deny him?

“My pretty little thing, so goddamn sweet,” he said with a groan, exploring hands releasing your bra so that they could run down the line of your back towards your hips before coming to a stop just under the curve of your ass. He cupped the cheeks one in each hand, massaging the meat in a circular motion.

Hungry lips embraced your neck, quick, burning kisses connecting with the skin to leave a trail of fire where he went. His arousal was already pressing up against your thigh as his hands on your ass squeezed harder; he had been worked up all day and seeing you all pretty for him it pushed him over the edge.

“Just wanna fuckin’ corrupt my little flower, ruin her pretty petals with my fat cock,” he breathed against the nape of your neck. His warm breath wafted down your collar bone to the tops of your breasts, making the skin pinprick with goose pimples while his words worked on your nerves to send you into a tailspin.

Were you supposed to stay sane after that? Because it just got really, really hard to think straight. “Yes,” was the only word your mind could form and you moaned it against the side of his head.

Fingers flitted around the waistband of your panties, outlining the band around your hips before it found the band descending between your legs; he followed that with his fingertips as well. “Mmmm, my beautiful girl, you know no one else even comes close?” he groaned. “Got the prettiest little thing around. Sets me on fuckin’ fire, how lucky I am to have such dainty thing at my disposal.”

Desperation gathered in his movements as he pawed at your body, causing you to respond to him as all your nerve ends across your skin began to ignite like he had just lit a match.

Without warning you were picked up and brought over to the bed where he set you down carefully along the edge. In an instant he had dropped down to his knees before you, one large hand gathered at the back of your head to pull you into his face so that he could press his lips desperately to yours. Wet, aggressive kisses he greedily stole from your mouth over and over again as he moved up into you.

“Lean back for me, darlin',” he said against your mouth.

Releasing you from his grasp you did as Simon said, laying back on your elbows so that you could still watch him. Hands on your parted thighs to steady himself, he swooped in. His face was at your pubic bone and he opened his mouth, collecting the waist of your panties in his teeth before he was pulling them down your legs, undressing you completely without the use of his hands.

Well damn, you had been curious to see how good they’d look on the floor since he had brought it up, but who could have predicted that they would look exquisite in between his teeth?

…Definitely a good choice indeed.

[eff4freddie]

Play With It

Joel Miller x AFAB Reader

Explicit - Minors DNI

Your busy schedules have meant you just can't get it together, and you're starting to miss each other. Joel is finding it particularly...hard.

(AU no outbreak)

Warnings: Just some good old PWP, smut, phone sex, Joel is a menace, dirty talk, praise kink, Joel talks you through it, kind of soft pleasure-dom vibes? Please tell me if you like this, if you can't already tell I also have a praise kink, love me damnit

Words: 3.5k

NEW! Sequel - Play With Her

You just kept missing each other – literally and figuratively. If you had a late shift at the hospital, Joel had an early start on the site. If you got home to make dinner, Joel was working late. If you both managed to get home at roughly the same time, you lay on the couch next to each other in sweats and barely scraped the energy together to turn the TV off for bedtime. Your schedules were just out of whack. It happened.

But you were missing him. The fold of his crow’s feet when he smiled, the gentle little huff of effort when he bent down on his bad knee to pick up a fallen utensil, his heat behind you in bed, enveloping you and soothing your frazzled, jangling nerves. Your hindbrain was struggling to soothe itself without the weight of his body on yours. You were unmoored.

This morning was no different – you’d come home late, past midnight, tiptoeing up the stairs and slipping under the covers as gently as possible, knowing he had an early start. You were tired to the bone anyway, your knees aching from hours upon hours striding up and down hospital corridors.

You could sleep in, at least, until 10 AM the next morning. It was the one solace as you drifted off, pushing yourself against Joel’s back and winding your hands around his chest. All of this work the both of you were doing was for your future, for yours and his and Sarah’s. Within a year you should have scraped up enough for a deposit on a house. It would be worth it, even if you ached for him.

Your phone woke you, and you cracked an eye to try and gauge the time. You determined it to be half-past too early. You let it ring out. If it was important they’d leave a message.

A minute later it rang again and you fumbled for it on your bedside table just to silence it, seeing as you lifted it that it was Joel. A little scalpel of panic sliced at your insides. He never called twice unless it was important, and never during the day. What if he’d had an accident? What if he was hurt?

‘Joel?’ you asked, your voice cotton and sandpaper.

‘Hey, baby,’ he said, his voice calm, gruff, maybe a little frayed around the edges.

‘What’s happening, are you OK?’

‘M’fine, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry ya.’

‘Y’never call twice,’ you muttered, settling back down against your pillow, your eyes closing of their own volition.

‘I needed my girl,’ he said, and you noticed his tone, then, the darkness in it. You let out a little shiver, wrapped up warm and tight in your bed.

‘What are you playin’ at, Joel Miller?’ you asked, and you heard him hum in response.

‘I’m bored at work, baby,’ he said, and you could hear that he was pouting.

‘Surely you can find yourself something to do,’ you said.

‘S’why I’m callin’,’ he replied.

‘Something productive,’ you clarified, and you listened to him huff out a little laugh.

‘Baby?’ he said, his voice back down to burnt honey and salted caramel.

‘Mmm?’ you asked.

‘I wanna watch you play with it.’

Your eyes shot open, gasping. You felt the tangle of want in your belly, little tendrils reaching down your thighs to tug, tease, at your cunt.

‘Joel!’ you scolded, and you heard him snicker. ‘Aren’t you on site?’

‘Found m’self a little quiet place, out of the way.’

You didn’t respond, thoughts obliterated as your traitorous mind replayed his words on repeat in your head.  Wanna watch you play with it. Wanna watch you play with it.

‘I’m in the truck, baby,’ he said. ‘Parked way down the back. No one can see, no one can hear.’

You felt the tension in your shoulders release, slightly, but your heart was still racing and you supposed it wasn’t going to stop. Not while you could hear him gearing up to destroy you without even being in the same suburb.

‘She droolin’ for me?’ he asked, his voice gravelly and you could hear the way his breath was shaking, knew that his own pulse was thrumming so hard in his neck it was making it hard for him to breathe out the words to you.

You squirmed, rubbing your thighs together under the sheets. He knew, of course he knew the fucking filthy old man, that you were almost permanently wet for him.

‘Mmmhmm,’ you said, and you heard him groan a little, snuffle it down with a bite to his lip.

‘Fuck, baby, been thinkin’ about you all morning. Woke up with you wrapped around me like a fuckin’ koala bear, took all my strength not to roll you over and fuck up into you while you were dreamin’.’

You gasped again, struggling to hear him over the blood rushing in your ears. Joel was so stoic, used his words so carefully in real life, that you could hardly believe your luck when you got him into the bedroom for the first time and he let loose the filthiest stream of consciousness you’d ever heard. He bathed you in his dirty little fantasies, doused you in his furious want for you.

‘Can I see her?’ he asked, and suddenly you were shy.

‘Just woke up, Joel,’ you said in protest, reaching up to smooth your hair without even thinking of it.

‘Love it best first thing,’ he said, ‘when you’re all warm and soft and pliant, let me do whatever I want to ya, keep those sweet warm thighs wrapped around my ears… or my cock buried deep in that sweet little cunt of yours and have you too sleepy to tell me to quit it.’

‘Mmm…quit it,’ you said, stretching, and he snickered.

‘Too late, baby, want you too bad.’

You liked him like this, although you’d never tell him that. Liked him a little bit needy, a little bit cunt drunk, wanting you so bad he had to pull his car out back and see to himself. You sighed. You were going to do it for him, you were always going to do it for him, but sometimes you had to put up a fight just for the appearance of the thing.

‘Please, baby,’ he said, and his words were punctuated with little breathy sighs, now.

‘Wanna see you too,’ you said, bargaining, stalling for time and not sure why.

You heard his voice grow distant as he pulled the phone away from his ear, and you did the same, waiting for facetime to connect.

You held your breath, holding the phone above your face as his ancient phone camera adjusted.

Then there he was, those beautiful brown eyes you could never say to, so soulful and kind and currently blown wide with want. His hair was scruffy like he’d been tugging at it. You giggled a little when you saw him, genuinely pleased.

‘Hey baby,’ he said, grinning at you, and you watched as his dimples emerged.

‘Hi,’ you said, suddenly shy, burying half of your face in your arm.

‘My beautiful girl,’ he muttered as he gazed at you through the phone screen. ‘I’m missing you, baby.’

You nodded, humming your agreement. ‘Miss you too,’ you said.

‘She missin’ me?’ You blushed, your core pulsing the moment he came on the screen. You nodded again. ‘Show me, please, baby,’ he implored. You could never refuse him.

He waited, his eyes bright and watchful, as you positioned yourself onto your back, angling the phone to travel down your body; first the tips of your straining nipples against the light cotton of your singlet (he whimpered at this, especially as you reached down and tweaked one a little), then lifting the cotton to reveal your belly, softening in the years you had known him but confident that he loved it just the same (he cooed at it, and you thought you heard him inform your belly he wanted to nip it and then kiss it better when he got home), then down a little further, your other hand now trailing along with the lens, to the aching heat of your core (you heard his sharp intake of breath as your pussy came into view, still covered by your panties, where the gusset was darkening with your slick. ‘There she is, fuck…’ he trailed off, and you felt your clit throb at the heat in it).

‘Let me have a little peak,’ he said, his voice reverberating around your empty bedroom as it shot out of the speaker on your phone. ‘Somethin’ to get me through the day.’

You giggled, pulling hard on your underwear so that the cotton stretched over your lips, outlining them perfectly for him as he groaned. You ran your fingers over the cotton, pushing and pulling at your lips, teasing yourself as much as you were teasing him.

‘You hard for me, Joel?’ you asked, and you heard his guttural ‘uh-huh’ in response. You slipped a finger under the leg of your panties, pulling them to the side so he could inspect the pink, the slick, of your folds.

‘Oh fuck, baby,’ he said, ‘such a good girl for me.’

You preened under his praise, your clit throbbing as you fought to control your breath, determined not to let him know what he was doing to you, not to let him win. Instead, you pulled your phone back up to your face, grinning at him.

‘Hey, where’d she go?’ he asked, and you laughed.

‘You know exactly where she is.’

‘Want to see her, baby, please,’ he said again, whining now, and you saw his shoulder moving slowly, the flex of his bicep just within view of the camera.

‘Show me what you’re doing to yourself, Joel Miller,’ you said, and he grinned at you, busted. His cheeks were pink, and he was starting to glisten from sweat. You wanted to lick it off him, take the salt of him into your body.

He angled his own phone down, so that you could see he was palming himself through his jeans. He let out a little gasp at one particularly hard tug.

‘Take it out,’ you said, and he tutted, raising the camera back to his face.

‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,’ he said, and you were up on your knees in an instant, swivelling to prop the phone up against the head of the bed, balancing on a pillow, as you reared back and slipped your underwear from your skin.

You watched as he freed himself, his belt moving aside so he could reach into his pants and pull himself out over his waistband. You felt more slick gather at the top of your thighs as you gazed at it, thick and large and with a vein on the underside you loved to rub along your tongue.

‘Play with it,’ he said, and you hated that you couldn’t gaze at his cock and his face at the same time, resolved to settle for the current view for now, as beads of precum gathered at the tip. You watched as he ran his fist over the shaft, leaving the head. You knew how sensitive it was, that when you sucked on it as you pulled, gently, at his balls he couldn’t help himself but to buck himself up into your throat, grunting your name as though you would bestow him mercy. You hadn’t, yet.

‘With this?’ you asked, teasing your fingers along your glistening cunt, avoiding your clit because you were already too close, wanted to prolong it, see how crazy you could make him.

‘Fuck yeah you know with that,’ he said, his irritation real and adorable, and you grinned.

‘Tell me how,’ you said, feeling your cheeks go hot and remembering that only recently had you built up the guts to tell him you loved it the most when he encouraged you, instructed you, talked you through it.

‘Run your fingers along the outside, gather up the slick,’ he said, and you did, shivering a little both at his words and the gravelly tinge to his voice. You could see his hand trembling as he held himself, the way his cock was flexing, throbbing, for more. ‘Run your fingertip over ya little clit, tight little circles… but not too hard,’ he said, and you groaned when you touched yourself there, your stomach clenching and nearly pitching you forward, the pleasure shooting down into your legs and up into your chest. ‘Nuh uh, too hard,’ he said, and you released the pressure a little. You realised he was going to punish you for teasing him. You realised you were going to let him.

‘She feelin’ good, baby?’

‘Mmhmm’ you breathed, nodding, momentarily incapable of words.

‘I want to watch her stretch,’ he said, and you opened one eye to see that he was now tugging at himself, pulling at the skin of his cock, drooling precum and using it to lubricate the head. He was grunting a little, his breath catching as he fought to keep talking. You smiled to yourself.

‘With my hands?’ you asked, feigning innocence even as you sank down further on your knees so he could get a better view.

‘Just give her one finger f’now, don’t wanna scare her,’ he said, and you nodded. ‘She’s so tight, baby, need to be gentle with my precious little pussy.’

You gasped, rolling your head back to the ceiling as though Jesus himself might save you.

‘Oh, I want it,’ you sighed, not sure what ‘it’ even was.

‘I know, baby, I know,’ he cooed, soothing you even as he tortured you by proxy. ‘Slide one inside, let that little cunt gobble it all up, that’s the way.’ You bucked again, riding your own finger, as you whined. ‘Rub that clit baby, make it easy on her.’

You took your other hand and kept the tight little circles on your clit, whimpering all the same. You raised your eyes to him, realising now he had placed the phone on the dash so you could see his face, the naked heat in his gaze as he watched you, and you gasped at the sight of him, your cunt clenching on your fingers as a bolt of want shot through you at the sight of him.

‘Joel…’ you whimpered, called for him, and his brows furrowed.

‘I know, baby, but you can do it,’ he said, and you keened, speeding up on your clit.

‘It hurts, I want you so bad,’ you complained, and you saw the grin start to emerge on his face before he schooled it, pulled it back down to faux concern for your predicament.

‘My poor girl,’ he said, nodding at you as you saw his shoulder flex, watched as he licked at his lips, trying to stave it off so that he could continue to torture you. ‘Give her one more, let that greedy little cunt have what she wants.’

You could feel tears prickling the back of your eyes, the ache for him in your chest nearly as strong as the ache for him in your core, and you slid another finger in without any resistance, your slick leaking out to pool in your waiting palm.

‘S’good baby?’ he asked, and you nodded, then shook your head, then nodded again.

‘S’better when it’s you,’ you answered, honestly, trying to hook your fingers forward like Joel did but not having the length, not having the angle.

‘Imagine I’m right there behind ya, baby,’ he said, and even as he said it you felt heat bloom on your back. You rolled your head back again, as if his imaginary shoulder could hold it. You were dimly aware that you were swivelling your hips, fucking yourself down onto your hands, as you imagined Joel’s delicious, throbbing cock poking at the small of your back.

You could feel every nerve ending from the tips of your toes to the edge of your tongue singing for him, the sparks combining with the throb of need in your cunt. You couldn’t stop moving, couldn’t stay still, set on fire by the heat of it.

‘Look at me,’ he grunted, but you couldn’t, couldn’t coordinate your movements, couldn’t crack open your eyes, drowning in it, feeling the pull of it slip over your nose and mouth. ‘Look at me while you play with it,’ he said again, louder and a little meaner this time, and you felt yourself react almost purely on instinct, snapping to attention.

He was panting, his own hips shifting as he tugged at himself, sweat gathering now at his brow, the sides of his forehead wet. He was jutting out his bottom lip, jaw flexing as he bared his teeth to you, trying hard to stave off the pleasure while simultaneously being driven mad by it.

‘Look what that sweet little cunt does to me,’ he said, his voice dangerous now, low enough that you found yourself holding your breath. ‘You seein’ this, baby?’

You nodded, almost wanting to apologise for how thoroughly you had deranged him.

‘Such a good girl,’ he praised again, and you felt a shudder of your hips. ‘Can she take one more?’ he asked, and you nodded, without hesitation. He had done that to you, had made you so wet and so wanting, your cunt pounding so soundly now, that you would take anything he instructed you to give yourself. ‘Do it,’ he grunted, and you did, a third finger sliding in to greet the others, a yelp of beautiful agony leaving your lips.

‘Fuck…’ you muttered, breathless, winded with the pleasure. ‘I can’t…’

‘Yes you can, baby, doin’ so good,’ he said, and you were losing yourself to it now, could feel the momentum, that you were nearing the point of no return, that you wouldn’t be able to pull your fingers from your needy, stretched little pussy until you’d come on them, until Joel had made you come.

You tried to bark out a warning, that you were getting too close, that it was about to sweep you away, except that when you opened your eyes to look at him you saw that he was right there with you, that he was sucking in great billows of air to steady himself, that he was panting and sweating and gasping your name, calling for you, his head rocking backwards to the headrest of his truck, overcome by the want for you, only to immediately swing forward again to watch you, to stare at your hands between your thighs on his phone screen, his hard, bulging cock in his hands, ready to burst.

‘Oh!’ you gasped, when you saw the state he was in, and his eyes snapped from your cunt to your face.

‘I know, I know,’ he repeated, fighting for air, ‘I know, I know, I know….’

‘May I?’ you asked, as though you would have been able to hold back, as though you had a choice, and he nodded, releasing you from the torment. You felt it speed up, the peak rising up to meet you, the backdraft scorching a path through your core as it caught you, and you came, hollering for him, whimpering and huffing, shocked at the intensity of it, at the way it obliterated you, whited you out, the sound of Joel’s twin cries nearly drowned by it.

--

At some point you had collapsed, falling from your knees to your belly on the bed. You could hear Joel, buried somewhere under the pillows, whimpering as he came down from his high, and when you had recovered the strength you fished the phone out and brought it back to your face. He sat, his head thrown back in his truck, as he gathered himself.

‘Christ on a cracker,’ he said, and you giggled. It had been too long. You wanted to do it again.

‘You OK, honey?’ you asked, and you heard him huff out a laugh.

‘Made a damn mess of m’self,’ he said, and you giggled again, little fizzing joy finding your chest. You felt lighter, not having realised how heavy the burden of missing him had been.

‘You got a towel or anything?’ you asked, and he rolled his eyes.

‘No, I don’t have a towel. Didn’t expect to be doing that this morning.’

‘You didn’t plan it?’ you asked, incredulous.

‘Just got overcome,’ he said, his dimples re-emerging as he looked at you, bashful, through the phone.

‘Mmmm,’ you agreed, feeling somewhat overcome yourself.

‘What time’s your shift start tonight?’ he asked, and you felt reality encroach ever so slightly on your happiness.

‘Start my shift at 5,’ you said, and he nodded. You could see the crease in his brow as he concentrated.

‘Fuck it,’ he said, having apparently come to a decision. You watched as he reached forward, turning the engine over, and heard the truck roar to life. ‘Don’t move a muscle,’ he said, putting the truck into gear and reversing out of the lot.

‘Joel, what are you doing?’ you asked, laughing a little at the look of pure determination on his face.

‘You stay right there,’ he said to you, winding down the window and calling out – presumably to his boss – that he was feelin’ poorly and needed to head home.

‘Joel, you can’t leave in the middle of the day,’ you said, and you saw his smile as he totally ignored you.

‘Be there in fifteen minutes,’ he said, pausing for a second to gather his thoughts. ‘You got to play with it,’ he said, picking up the phone and preparing to hang up so he could drive. ‘Now it’s my turn.’

[konigsblog]

what would everyone prefer to be called in bed?

who would prefer things like "daddy" or "sir" vs their actual name?

könig likes to be called ‘sir’, ‘colonel’, or any name that gives him authority over you. when you're on your knees, all he wants to hear from that pretty mouth is soft chants, slobber and drool dripping from your lips, while the tip of his twitching, girthy cock throbs and oozes out his white, thick load. :(

“that’s right... you filthy thing, ja?” ... “my dear. who’s sir, baby?”

soap likes to be called by his name usually, but he doesn't mind when you occasionally let ‘daddy’ slip from your puffy lips. he'll let it slide, slapping your tight ass for each moan, while you sob into the bedsheets, mewling out at the stretch... his big cock pushed deep inside your tight hole!

“tha’s right, girlie... ‘m yer’ daddy, huh? aye... look at the mess yer’ makin’, pretty lassie.”

gaz likes to be called ‘handsome’, or any nickname that makes him feel hot and sexy, though he doesn't mind being called by his real name -- he loves the sound of it, when your voice is dripping and laced with euphoria. when he's sucking, lapping at your asshole, his tongue coating your hole in thick saliva and spit, drooling down your thighs and leaving indents on your hips from his grip. the soft mutters, or squeals driving him insane, making him feel sexy and hot as he eats your ass.

“aren’t‘cha pretty, doll? callin’ me handsome, god-- you make me feel hot things, dove.”

ghost likes to be called ‘sir’, that's it, and he expects nothing less from you. he expects to be called ‘sir’ whilst he's dragging his dick out of you, your soft pleads for more followed by a weak, quiet mutter of ‘sir.” he'll make sure you're screaming it, while he fucks you on his office desk.

“yeah--yeah, that’s fuckin’ right. ‘m you’r sir, ain’t that right, lovie?”

price, unsurprisingly (because i think a lot of people use this as a headcannon), likes to be called ‘daddy’, or any name that gives him a sense of authority over you and your pretty, gorgeous body. when he's sucking at your needy, wet clit, all he wants to hear is ‘daddy’ moaned loudly, echoing.

“oh-fuck! good girl... there we go, princess. listen to daddy, c’mon...”

[shotmrmiller]

Needs Must III

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

WC: 2.2k

TW: frottage into outercourse, unprotected p in v, squirting, creampie. explicit smut.

18+ MDNI

“Hey, John—” and choke back a yelp when you realize that the person standing in front of you isn’t Johnny, but the one man you haven’t seen in months.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Despite your shock, a sound of disgust escapes your lips involuntarily, causing him to chuckle. Ghost walks past you, brushing his bicep with your shoulder, and heads to the living room to take off his leather jacket, placing it on the backrest of your couch— and the gloves follow. You stood behind him, arms crossed, curling your socked toes nervously into the soft fibers of your carpet. 

He leisurely rolls up the silky satin dress shirt sleeves, exposing the intricate tattoos adorning his forearms. Without turning around, he softly says, “C’mere, pet.” His deep baritone voice pulls at your heartstrings because it’s been so long, you missed him more than you’d like to admit. With a deep breath, you attempt to steady your racing heart, your gaze fixed on the ground, and slowly approach him.

“Oh?” and he tips your chin up with his finger, demanding your attention, noticing his amused smile. “Johnny fuck you into submission, er somethin’?” Blood rushes to your cheeks, and you’re unsure if it’s out of embarrassment or anger.

“Don’t look surprised. He’s my best friend.” Spluttering, you heatedly ask, “And what? Y’all just gossip like old hens over ‘work’?” finger quoting the last word. With a cheeky grin, he casually shrugs his shoulders. “Somethin’ like tha’. If you worried, he gave you a glowin’ review,” the grin turns into a slight sneer, “bastard.” 

Ghost gives you a once-over, sweeping his eyes from your feet to your head, and holds your gaze for a second, then murmurs, “Come.” With a gentle yet commanding hold on your wrist, he pulls you towards the bedroom, and you’re reminded of the times he pinned both of your hands onto the bed with his large one— sending a very familiar ache between your legs. He sits you on the edge of the bed, toes his shoes off, and starts to undo the buttons on his shirt, exposing the strong muscles of his chest and his soft, slightly round stomach. He doesn’t even bother removing it fully, instead, he reaches for the waistband of your shorts. You extend your leg out, firmly pressing your dainty foot on his sternum, keeping him in place.

He stills, and you speak before he gets a chance to. “What’re you doing here, Ghost?” His heavy, dark gaze is unwavering, entrancing. “‘M here f’you. You didn’t honestly think tha’ I’d let you keep callin’ Johnny instead o’me?” He encircles your delicate ankle with his long fingers and pushes your leg to the side— the other hand taking the hem of your skirt, dragging it up until it bunches around your waist, and slots himself between your spread thighs. Lips brush against your cheek before moving up to your ear. “What is it? He treat you better than me?” His warm breath sends a shiver down your spine. Instead of waiting for a reply, he catches your earlobe with his teeth, nibbling on it. Your hands promptly fist the sides of his open shirt, mewling at the pinch of his bite. “Hm?” he questions as he grinds his clothed erection against your center. 

You’re lightheaded from the sound of his voice, the heat of his body seeping into your skin, the smell of his cologne— a woody aromatic fragrance, all of it so fucking intoxicating. He delivers a sharp, stinging slap to the side of your thigh, demanding your attention, and it sends a jolt straight to your dripping cunt— making it contract around nothing. “He fuck you better than I have?” You give him a vigorous shake of your head, and a needy moan spills from your mouth as he gives your core a particularly hard thrust, the hard metal of the zipper rubbing against your clit. You begin to grind your hips down onto him and move one hand from his now very crinkled shirt, to hold on to the hairs at the nape of his neck.

“You boutta come all over my trousers, baby?” 

And then his hands are on your waist, firmly keeping you in place. You whine loudly, you were so close— 

“Then why did you stop seeing me?” Your head is so heavily clouded with arousal, drunk off of him that the answers tumble out unwittingly— mind solely focused on getting the friction back where you need it most.

“I wanted you all f’me,” slurring your words, “Guess the hand y’always used to choke me with kept the blood from flowing t’my head—” your rambling is cut off by his mouth slanting over yours, tongues entangling. He swallows all of the salacious noises you let slip, drinks them in, makes them his— makes you his. When he pulls away, you find yourself gasping for air. With a raspy voice, you mumble, “I thought you—” and he silences you with another hungry kiss.

“I only kiss what’s mine.” He hooks his thumbs into the band of your knickers and pulls them off, throwing them somewhere behind his shoulder. He swiftly undoes his trousers and steps out of them along with his boxer shorts. “Let’s play a game of Simon says, pet.” He maneuvered your hands to grab under your thighs, keeping them spread for him. Leaning forward, he leans on one arm, using the other to press the head of his cock on your puffy lips, holding it in place with his thumb. He slowly thrusts up, making sure you feel every ridge and vein against your swollen clit, “And I say, you come f’me, just” thrust “like” thrust “this.” 

You push your hips down when he pulls back, up when he drags his thick cock up, delicious friction on your bundle of nerves. Every roll of his hips gets you closer to your climax, your pussy dripping slick down to your perineum. Your thighs start to tremble in your sweaty hands, body tense. “Oh my god. Ohmy—”  

He shifts his weight from his arm to lean on his elbow, heavy body flush against yours, pressing you into the bed—  fisting your hair and pulling it taut, tilting your face up to his. 

“It’s either my name or none at all.” He punctuates the syllables with his thrusts. “Si - mon.” 

Releasing your thighs, you dig your nails into the sides of his waist, grip tightening at your impending orgasm. Simon grunts a low, gravelly sound. “There they are. My kitten’s sharp claws,” one more thrust, then again, he moans, “Come f’me, baby.” And you tip over the edge. Anything he might’ve said after is completely muted either by the ringing in your ears or the wail that clawed out of your throat. Collapsing, you twitch and shake in Simon’s arms, taking in ragged breaths. 

“You with me?” giving him a weak nod. Slowly, he pulls away, and there’s clear, stringy liquid dripping from his tip connecting to the hood of your pussy. He moves you to lie in the middle of the bed gently, body completely limp, plain dead weight, then walks to your nightstand. “What’s with all the lambskin condoms?” 

A soft, relaxed sigh slips out of you. “Johnny’s allergic to latex, I had no idea. Had to go without one the first time.” Simon lets out a drawn-out hum, then drops the protection back into the drawer. He shrugs off his damp satin shirt, then gets on the bed, crawling over you— covering your body easily with his, and prods his bare cock at your entrance.

“But you’re mine now, aren’t you? Gonna let me take what’s mine?” Swallowing thickly, you look at him, and his eyes are dark, glittering— gaze intense. Maybe you took too long to answer because he starts to slowly push the tip in, and hisses, “You’re mine, only mine. Got it?” and your tight, rippling walls stretch around his invasion. Your breathy moan is cut off when he bottoms out, flared head firmly pressing into your cervix. He’s at a dead end, and he grinds down, almost like he’s trying to push it past that, feeling a deep pinch at the entrance of your womb. The pressure is punishing, incessant, you swear you can feel him in your throat. “Nod if you understand,” he snarls.

You do as he says, no commands, nodding with messy, jerky movements. “Good girl.” He relents, pulling back to sit on his haunches to press one leg into your bed and hook the other over his shoulder. Wordlessly, he sets a fast pace, but his thrusts are shallow, in a staccato rhythm—  and fuck him, because he knows precisely where to hit. Ruthless prodding against your sweet spot, over and over again. It feels like jabs to the underside of your bladder, and every tap makes that feeling sharper, acute. Oh no. Nono— 

You know exactly what’s going to happen. Your eyes glisten with tears, cascading down your cheeks, as the overwhelming sensation takes hold, and with every thrust, it only becomes more concentrated.

“Awh, my poor pet. Feels tha’ good, does it? Look at you, cryin���.” You can't find it in you to be even the slightest bit humiliated because you’re about to lose the last of your sanity, he’s about to break you. You can’t even control the shrill moans Simon all but punches out of you. 

“Oh, I’d recognize tha’ cross-eyed look anywhere.” He chuckles, “C’mon then. Make a mess f’me.” His thrusts are unyielding in his pursuit of what he’s about to make you do.  “Squirt f’me, pretty.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your body locks tight, and this time you scream. Liquid warmth floods in between your legs, drenching yourself, your bed, Simon— but you don’t care. There isn’t a single thought in that empty head of yours. 

Simon was languidly thrusting, fucking you through the aftershocks until a wavering breath escapes your lips, mirroring the shaky tremors that are currently rippling through your body. As he leans in, his lips softly caress your face, wiping away any stray tears that remain, and the spit that drooled out of your mouth. “You did so well f’me.” Your eyes widen at the feel of his solid, heavy cock still at full mast inside of you. 

He changes position, this time hooking the other leg over his shoulder, then gives you one soft thrust and you distinctly hiss, oversensitized. Simon presses your knees into you with his body weight, pinning you down fully, with no escape, and loops his arms underneath your torso to grab onto your shoulders— and starts snapping his hips viciously. A merciless pace, each slap of his hips against your ass making your pussy squelch obscenely, and there’s nothing you can do other than take his assault. It is unbelievable, how just seconds before were squirming away from him because of how tender you were, and here you are, about to fall over another mind-numbing edge.

“If you want me to come, then squeeze that tight cunt and wrench it out of me.” He pounded into you harder, the headboard of your bed furiously smacking against the wall that you know there’ll be cracks on it. Crying out, he continuously hits the deepest part of your pussy, and you come undone. Vision darkening, you’re slammed with wave after wave of pleasure, your walls squeezing him so tight, you’re strangling his cock and he makes a choked sound. 

“Oh-of, f-fu-” he lets out a low, drawn-out moan that lasts all four last thrusts— before his hips stutter, and finally still, spurting thick, sticky white ropes of cum into you.

—

The room was echoing with both of your heavy inhales, desperate to fill your lungs with air. It was humid, smelt of sex and body sweat. Simon grunts as he turns to his side, getting off of you, and the sharp gasp of air you intake is comical.

“Am I tha’ heavy, love?” 

You look like you’re tittering on the edge of consciousness, but snort and answer him. “Yes. Obviously. The only thing small about you is your humility.” He gives a belly laugh and leans in to give you one last sweet, tender kiss. 

“Go to sleep, love. I’ll take you out for breakfast tomorrow, maybe meet some of my friends.” 

“You mean Kyle and John? They’re very nice.” He falters because what? But you were already softly snoring. 

Stretching his arm across the nightstand, he swiftly retrieves his phone and a mischievous grin spreads across his face upon seeing a text from Johnny from hours ago.

Ya really answered her text on my phone pretending to be me. Pussywhipped.

You really told her you’re allergic to latex, when you use latex gloves to cook. 

Oof. Fair. 

And you’re gonna explain to me why she knows Gaz n Price.

Jus’ sharin the love, Simon. 

Sucking his teeth, he puts his phone underneath the pillow, and loops an arm around your waist, pulling you to him. With a tender kiss on your sweaty forehead, he drifts off into a peaceful sleep.

A/N: ngl i was fighting for my life? shit had me aroused. oof. im def writing price and kyle into this because 141 til i die. maybe a könig? unsure.

@rookiesbookies KYLE COMIN NEXT

[aemnd]

𝓇.cameron. ┆ princess treatment.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ i srsly looove fem!reader callin' rafe 'dad' in my lil' stories. !!! mwahahahh . <3

princess treatment comes naturally to somebody like rafe cameron; who loves nothing more than to spoil you with his love, attention, and money. he adores how sweet you're, and he genuinely doesn't think you have a bad bone in your body—too angelic and sweet and naïve to be deceitful.

rafe cameron loves the sweet, gentle, little demure smiles you give him, all doll eyed and misty from the rough, downright nasty fucking he'd just given you—your long, mink lashes fluttering dreamily (and wetly) as you both come down from your explosive highs, with you panting gently and sweetly whimpering into his hard, broad, sweaty chest—not that the cameron man minded, he loved having you close, perhaps, sometimes… too close.

"gon' make you my lil' wifey someday, yea?" rafe mumbles casually, his voice raspy and deep, with a slight, teasing drawl to it, a bit of that rich boy, nasally tone of his that always kept you weak in the knees coming through.

you were always a shy girl at heart, his sweet little baby, he'd do anything you'd ask and more.

"y-yeah?" you hiccup shakily, softly pawing gently at his hard, bare chest, gently scratching your freshly manicured nails down his defined pectorals, feeling the ridges of taut, strong muscles underneath his warm, sweaty flesh.

rafe nodded, leaning over you completely and claiming your already kiss-swollen lips into another deep, passionate, possessive kiss, full of teeth and tongue and lots of rafe's saliva—coating your mouth in the most delicious, sinful ways of his ownership over you.

shyly, hesitantly, you reach down between your two bodies, bumping against his half-hard shaft, earning a low, warning growl to rumble against your boyfriend's chest.

"need more, don't ya', kid?" rafe taunts, before easily gripping himself by the base of his drenched cock, giving himself two quick, firm pumps of his large hand while mindlessly knocking your dainty one outta his way, knowing you liked to constantly touch things.

swiftly, he presses the now leaking tip against your abused, fluttering, dripping fuckhole, before pressing into you with a soft, deep grunt, already feeling those euphoric flames licking at the sensitivity of his heavy balls, positioning himself above you so he wouldn't crush you—but knowing you, his sweet girl, he already knows how you like to be roughly manhandled by him, like a pretty, innocent little dolly.

"dad!" you mewl femininely, a cute, glossy pout curling on your pretty lips, making them appear extra kissable, causing rafe to blink three times frantically, already feeling the blood from his head rushing down to his swelling cock, before he finally (and easily) slips back inside of you.

already, without failure, rafe can feel your sweet little pussy fluttering wildly around him, making him fully hard and desperate to come inside of your womb once again, a low groan escaping him as your little cunny began suffocating him, restricting him from pulling out for a moment.

"don't worry, baby—dad's always got you, yea?" rafe hums, before pulling his hips nearly all the way back, until just the leaking tip of his cock remained inside of your sopping, quivering little pussy, making rafe feel like he could blow another load into you any second now—still, he could be patient for his girl to catch up with him, and he knew he wouldn't have to wait long, not long at all.

"yeah... yea, dad! I-love you," you mewl breathily, feeling your little nipples harden from your overwhelming arousal, your doe-like eyes finally locking with your boyfriend's—and oh, you could see the darkness brewing inside of him, the insanity and desperate hunger he felt for you, and all of his possessiveness just rising to the surface, ready to claim you.

"such a good girl for daddy," rafe praises with a low, deep voice—a small, mocking smile appearing on his handsome, slightly flushed pink face, his abs clenching erratically as he can feel his cock twitch and pulsate inside of you, making him nearly whimper as you give him another harsh squeeze around his oozing prick.

roughly, rafe firmly grasps at the fat of the skin of your smooth, silky hips even tighter, holding you down with a knitted brow, tongue in his cheek as he begins to concentrate on fucking you again, hard and fast and nastily sinful—just the way his baby enjoyed.

"yea, yea... fuck, baby—feels so fuckin' good 'round me," rafe chuckled lightly to himself, floppy bangs falling into his eyes, but he couldn't care less, not with how fucking gorgeous you looked underneath him, so submissive and obedient, getting railed by him, becoming his over and over again without stop, without complaint.

"that's daddy's good little girl, huh?"

[blondieeu]

gangsta. connie s.

based off rio from good girls

connie who’s just so bad for you.

you knew from the moment you met him he was someone to not be messed with. i mean you met him in a bar, got to know him a little better in the restroom and that was all!

so wasn’t it a shock to you when you came home from your 9-5 to see him sitting on your porch, the purse you wore the night before in his calloused hands.

“you left it.”

“you can’t be here i have a husband!!”

“i’ll kill em.”

connie had tattoos over all the scars on his body, piercings, smells so expensive, always found with a blunt in his mouth.. apart of a gang!

you knew you weren’t supposed to be with him from the awkward looks you got from people when they say this girly girl with some gangster but you really really couldn’t help yourself.

confession — at night when you were all alone, panties forgotten around your ankles and your fingers were stuffed in that pretty cunny, you could only think of him.

couldn’t help yourself but to just think about him and that time he had you all ugly bent over the sink while he fucked you. even when you swore you hated when he pushed your face against the mirror — it’s what made you cum faster.

so after a few glass of wine on a lonely friday night, even though you knew you shouldn’t.. you called him. almost squealing like a little girl when he answered.

“hello?”

…silence

“connie?”

…

“whatchu callin’ me fa?”

you laid on your couch, legs lazily parting while the strap of your skimpy night gown slipped off your shoulder. your hand skated down to the hot needy spot between your legs and into your panties.

“..nothin’”

“i’m hangin up—“

“—could you come over connie?”

he chuckled through the phone, you could almost hear him wipe his face with his hand.

“don’t waste my time girl. i look like some prostitute to you?”

“no! no!— never..”

“but that’s what you askin’ right? you want me to come to your house and fuck you in your husbands bed?”

“no..”

the hand in your pretty maroon panties rubbed slow at your clit, you let two of your fingers dip down deeper into your lingerie and inside of your cunny.

“yea? you don’t think about it mama?”

“…..no”

your once level voice became breathy as you fingered yourself, imagining it was his scarred tattooed ones instead of yours.

“yea alright. be there in 10.”

blondieeu xx

[heich0e]

“Miya-san!”

Osamu’s head swivels towards the sound, and he spots you right away even though you weren't the one who called for him.

You’re a few metres down the road, sitting on a bench in front of a bustling restaurant, slumped over onto the shoulder of your junior who seems to be doing everything he can to keep your head tipped up against his arm. Kimura, the name Osamu had once been introduced to him as at one of the events your company held, has blushy cheeks when the older man approaches—he seems flushed due both to being flustered and a little tipsy, and the knot of his tie is loosened at the base of his throat.

“Kimura-kun,” Osamu greets him with a dip of his head as he approaches, his eyes scanning your seemingly sleeping face. “She asleep?”

“No,” you slur in reply, but your eyes stay closed. Osamu’s not certain it’s the truth, and even less certain you realize he’s the one who said it.

“I-it’s all my fault,” Kimura squeaks, looking increasingly like he might burst into tears. “They were trying to make me drink more, but Senpai kept switching out our glasses when the other section leads weren’t looking.”

“Yeah, that sounds like somethin’ she’d do,” Osamu replies with a fond but exasperated sigh.

“I’m sorry for contacting you so late,” Kimura says, flinching as you slump away from him unexpectedly in your drunken stupor. Osamu is quicker to react than the younger man, stepping in and catching you in the crook of his elbow before you can go toppling off the bench onto the sidewalk. He keeps you steady.

“Don’t apologize, I appreciate ya callin’ me to come get her—and thanks fer lookin’ after her,” he says down to the younger man, who seems relieved now not to be responsible for keeping you upright. “Tell her to bring ya by the shop for a meal sometime as payback. She owes ya one.”

Kimura’s eyes widen and he shakes his head like he couldn’t possibly accept, but before he can decline the offer Osamu turns his attention back to you. With an arm wrapped around your waist, he gently pries you from your seat.

“Up ya go,” he mutters encouragingly as he eases you onto your feet.

Your eyes flutter slowly open, looking around blearily for a moment as you take in your surroundings.

“Samu?” you ask, his name slurred on your alcohol loosened tongue. You perk up noticeably in his arms once you realize just who’s holding you. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to take ya home, Cinderella,” he says with a light laugh as your fingers twist into the material of his sweatshirt against his chest. He looks to Kimura again, who’s also risen to his feet now. “We’ll be off, then.”

“Thank you, Miya-san!” Kimura bows deeply forward, a nearly perfect 45 degree angle at his waist.

He’s a sweet kid, Osamu can’t help but think, even if does follow you around like a puppy.

Osamu helps you down the sidewalk towards his waiting truck, then up into your seat on the passenger’s side. He makes quick work of buckling you into your seatbelt even as you squirm counterproductively, then he jogs swiftly around to his own side of the truck and climbs in behind the wheel.

Kimura waves from outside the restaurant as the truck pulls away.

“Seems like ya had fun tonight,” Osamu remarks as he drives in the direction of your home. You hadn't even wanted to attend this work gathering, but had been forced to by your director. Now look where it had gotten you.

You’re fiddling with the controls of the radio, stations crackling in and out as you switch rapidly through the channels. 

“Drank too much,” you complain, settling on a talk radio station (of all things) that seems to be midway through discussing prefectural bylaws.

“Don’t I know it,” Osamu quips in reply and you swat at him harmlessly over the centre console with a laugh.

You’re turned in your seat, your body facing in his direction, watching him as he keeps his eyes on the road. He can feel your gaze tracing over him, but doesn’t glance back.

“Hey,” you whisper, something conspiratorial in your tone. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Sure thing,” he plays along with your antics, fighting back a grin.

It’s silent for a moment—only the voices on the radio discussing trash collection to be heard. Osamu pulls up to a red light, and finally looks over to meet your gaze.

Your eyes are glassy and a bit unfocused, but they’re bright with affection.

“I have a crush on you,” you tell him with a giggle.

Osamu’s chest pangs.

The light turns green.

“Well,” he remarks, returning his gaze to the road ahead and proceeding through the intersection. “That’s good.”

From the corner of his eye, he sees your shoulders slump dejectedly. 

“I’m being rejected,” your next words are positively morose. You turn away from him and lean your body over to the side. He hears a loud thump as your forehead head hits window on your right.

“Hey!” Osamu chides you in concern, reaching out and grabbing the collar of your blouse to tug you up a little straighter. It’s not the most elegant motion by any means, but he’s fairly limited with his other hand on the wheel and his eyes still on the road.

“Owww,” you complain, rubbing your forehead weakly. You bat the hand he has clutching the collar of your shirt away. “You’re so mean.”

“How’m I mean?” Osamu guffaws beside you.

“I just confessed my love for you, and all you had to say is ‘that’s good’!” You turn your body in your seat to waggle an unsteady but judgemental finger at him. “A woman’s heart is a precious, fragile thing, y’know!”

“There’s nothin’ fragile about ya,” Osamu mutters under his breath, thinking about how much you had to drink that night as a prime example of this fact. “Yer tough as a brick wall.”

“Mean!” you jeer at him again, your mouth agape in the wake of his words.

Osamu flicks his turn indicator on before he pulls his truck over to the curb, putting it into park. You’ve stopped outside a convenience store, and when he turns to look at you, the fluorescents from inside the shop bathe you in a backlit halo where you sit in the passenger seat.

He grabs your hand. The one you still have lifted to point at him.

“D’ya see this?” he asks, holding your hand up in front of your face. The ring on your fourth finger catches in the glow of the convenience store lights.

Your eyes widen.

Osamu holds up his left hand where there’s a ring that matches your own.

“I said it’s good y’got a crush on me ‘cause we’re married, dummy.”

Your lips form a surprised little ‘o’ as your eyes flicker rapidly from the band on your finger to his own and back again. 

After a moment you grin, your eyes squeezing shut with how high your cheeks lift. “What a relief!”

Osamu is quick inside the store, just popping in to buy a vitamin drink for you and a pack of cigarettes for himself. He doesn’t smoke as much these days—you’d nag him incessantly if he did—but every so often he gets a craving, and tonight is one of those instances. 

The two of you sit side by side on the curb in front of the shop, the truck parked a little ways down the road. 

Osamu takes a drag of his cigarette, sighing in contentment with wispy plumes of smoke slipping from his lips. He peeks over at you from the corner of his eye. 

“Ya feelin’ better?” he asks.

You’ve got the little bottle of vitamin drink cradled in your hands, working your way through it slowly. You hate the taste of them, he knows that, but you’d regret it more tomorrow morning if you didn’t force it down tonight. You nod a bit, and seem to have sobered up in the time since Osamu arrived to take you home.

“This reminds me of when we first started datin’” Osamu laughs to himself. And he means it. Everything about it. Being out so late. The taste of the tobacco on his tongue. The way you keep creeping a little bit closer to him unconsciously, as though his space isn’t already yours to freely take. “I can’t believe ya forgot we’re married.”

You groan in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

He bites back a grin, trying not to revel too much in your misery.

“And I’m sorry I made you come pick me up,” you mumble after a moment, taking another sip from the little bottle in your hand and wincing against the bitterness. “I planned to just take a cab.”

“It was that little junior of yours who contacted me,” Osamu laughs, lifting the cigarette to his lips and holding it there while he rifles in his pocket for his phone. He holds the device out so you can see the conversation where your subordinate had commandeered your phone, remorsefully messaging Osamu asking him to come and collect you from the bar. He’d even used a funny little sticker of a bunny with tears in his eyes bowing apologetically—it bears a striking resemblance to Kimura himself. 

“That kid,” you sigh, shaking your head lightly as you rub your temple. Your eyes suddenly widen and your face snaps towards your husband. “Wh—“

“Tsumu’s there watchin’ ‘em,” Osamu laughs, reaching up and plopping a hand down atop your head. “Not that there’s much to watch since they’re in bed. He was still at the house when Kimura-kun messaged me.”

You lean into Osamu's touch as you think of your twins at home, tucked up in the little bed they share, and it makes your heart ache a little bit. You wonder if you’ll be able to creep in and give them a kiss goodnight when you get home without waking them. 

You go terribly quiet for a moment, and Osamu finishes his cigarette. He stamps it out on the curb beside him and then slips the extinguished stub back into the pack to throw into an ashtray later.

“Samu?” you call to him, your voice quiet.

He glances over at you, and sees the way you’ve wrapped your arms around your knees. The anxious posture worries him.

“I didn’t forget you, I promise,” you whisper. “It’s just… sometimes I think this is all too good to be true.”

Your husband watches as you admire the ring on your finger that reflects the streetlight overhead.

Osamu smiles to himself, scooting closer to you on the curb.

“I know,” he reassures you, wrapping an arm around your waist and tucking you into his side. Your head naturally falls to his shoulder. Familiar and instinctive. “I was just teasin’ ya.”

You smell like alcohol. He’s sure he smells like cigarettes. You're in rumpled business casual, and he's dressed in the sweats he planned to wear to sleep. He reaches over and takes your left hand in his own—your wedding rings overlapping. And for a moment, in spite of all the ways the two of you have changed over the years and all the ways that life is different now, everything is exactly how it’s always been.

He tilts his face and presses a lingering kiss to your temple.

‘I’ve got a crush on ya too, by the way.”

[sugusearrings]

( ' safe & sound ' )

just close your eyes, the sun is going down you'll be alright no one can hurt you now come morning light you and i'll be safe and sound.

— summary: captain levi ackerman the strongest warrior alive is struggling to adjust after the war. but you (fem!reader) are there to remind him he deserves peace. — genre: fluff but tiny bit of angst. — playing: safe & sound by taylor swift — note(s): so aot just ended and i'm still in denial it's really over. my boy eren did nothing wrong but i understand, 80% is kind of a lot BUT HE WAS A CHILD WAR WEAPON. anyways, post war. SPOLIERS AHEAD JUST A FAIR WARNING OKAY. levi ackerman and reader have a slight age gape ( reader is 25 and levi is in his mid thirties). mentions of brief sex. mentions of scars and death. maybe some spelling errors i missed but i tried ~ levi may be grumpy and mean but he's a total softie to the reader. — word count: 2k

He inhaled sharply as his upper body sat up from his sleep. He could feel the cold sweat formed on his the side of his head rolling down. His chest rose up and down with each inhale he took. He ran his hand over his face. He glanced down at his hands. His two missing fingers always reminded him what happened almost five years ago now. The rumbling ending. Everyone is trying to rebuild a normal life. He never really knew what a normal life was. His life was all about fighting and survival and now it was over. What was Levi made for now?

He quickly reached over for his cane leaning against the nightstand.

Levi was determined not to be stuck to that damn chair, he did whatever exercise he could without putting too much on his body. There were some days he had to be wheeled around. But using the cane on the daily was happening often. He didn’t want to be helpless or dependent on anyone. He was never like that so why start now?

He made his way out of the bedroom and walked into the small hallway that normally took two minutes to pass but it felt entirely. He was on alert, adrenaline pumping through his veins already. How could he protect now? He felt so useless. Once the greatest warrior to this. At first it was hard accepting this new reality of his. All he wanted to do was sink more into the dark and isolate himself.

If he was gone, would anyone notice? Would anyone care? Those he loved and cared for were long gone leaving him alone. He never knew loneliness would become his true enemy.

He held his breath accepting his fate as he walked into the kitchen. His dull gray eye widen seeing you standing there already pouring some tea in one of his favorite cups. He nearly dropped his cane.

“Name…”

“Captain Levi?” You looked up at him a bit startled he was awake. He let out a heavy exhale.

“After all this time, you still callin’ me that?” He rolled his eye then shook his head. “Give me a break.” You giggled quietly with a light blush appearing on your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, it’s just an old habit I guess.”

“What are you doing up?” He asked you completely ignoring what you said.

“I figured you would want some tea when you would wake up.” You replied walking over to grab another cup from the cabinet. Levi could feel his ears beginning to burn. He cleared his throat.

“You…know?” You turned around to see the flustered older man. You tilted your head slightly to the side and was baffled. He thought he could hide his nightmares from you. His nightmares of the past.

“Of course I do.”

Your warm smile still made his heart throb the same way it did when you two met.

He found you the most annoying thing ever. You were too optimistic for his liking and you were very emotional. You were immature and very impulsive. But he adored that about you. You weren’t scared to stand up for what you believe in, even against him. When he was your captain and you were just a cadet on his squad. You two saw things from different perspectives but he respected that. He wasn’t sure if he ever told you he did.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” He made his way over to the nearest chair at the table. He pulled it out so he could sit. You took the cup full of tea and walked over to place it in front of him.

“It’s okay, Levi. Your nightmares don’t always wake me,” you placed your hand over his, “I have my own too, y’know?” You gave him a gentle squeeze.

The guilt sunk deep in Levi’s chest. How could he not think about you having your own trauma for what you both went through. Losing people you love, being injured and almost close to death several times. You had many scars to prove it. Especially the one on your neck reaching to the top of your chest. It was easier to hide but doesn’t mean it wasn’t a constant reminder when you would change outfits, shower, even during intimate times.

“I’m a horrible husband aren’t I, name?” He sighed deeply, reaching to grab his cup the same way he always has. You smiled remembering the time you made fun of the way he held his glass to your other comrades. It was all laughter until Levi was behind you the whole time. When you turned around looking white as a ghost seeing Levi glaring down at you. You screamed loudly then he made you clean his office and room from top to bottom.

“A little bit.” You teased him playfully. You grinned when your husband glared at you. “I’m kidding, Levi. How are you a bad husband?”

“My wife has fucking nightmares next to me and here I am sleeping.” He snapped. You bit your bottom lip and lowered your eyes. “But I even breathe a certain way, she knows if there’s something wrong with me.” He went on becoming more aggravated with himself.

“You’re being hard on yourself again.”

“You’re not denying it.” He countered. You sighed deeply.

“Levi…I have nightmares, yes. But you help me just by being there next to me.” You gave him another squeeze. Before he could say some smart ass remark you cut him off. “You remind me of what’s happening now. I can’t forget the past...I can never forget. But waking up next you eases it and makes it better to deal with.” Levi remained silent.

He couldn’t believe someone like you could ever love someone like him. To this day he would be in disbelief. You were so warm and he was so cold. But here you are sharing a life with him.

“You make it sound so easy.” He mumbled lowly.

“I know when you have nightmares when you hold onto me tight.” You admitted. His eye widened looking over at you. You smiled shyly looking away. You were trying to hide the dark blush on your cheeks but he would always see it. You couldn’t hide it from him.

He could remember the first time he made you blush. It was the first time he saw you with your hair down. When he complemented you ( in his own way that didn’t sound too mean ), you blushed. His heart fluttered how perfect you looked with your cheeks flushed.

“You woke up because I wasn’t in bed this time…” You spoke snapping him out of his own thoughts.

“I thought in a marriage there was no such thing as secrets.” He joked dryly.

You laughed covering your mouth with your hand. He noticed some faint scars on your hand. He remembered that scar. He remembers all the scars on every inch of your body. He would kiss them gently some nights making your breathing hitch. He would kiss the scar on your neck the most. He felt that needed the most attention. The day he almost lost you for good.

You were fighting alongside him against Zeke for the first time.

That’s when Levi realizes his feelings for you.

He stood by your side whenever he can, waiting for you to recover. He would even read out loud to you. When you woke up a few days later, you asked him to re-read the sentence he just read because you couldn’t hear him.

What nearly broke him when he thought you drank the wine with the spinal fluid.

Thankfully you didn’t but he confessed his feelings for you the same night. Yes, it was inappropriate for a caption to be with his cadet but he didn’t care about his title or yours in that moment. Levi just needed you to know in case something happened. He was ready to hear your rejection but when you confessed your own feelings for him, he was relieved.

That’s when Zeke did the explosion, Levi had enough time to push you off the wagon leaving him to suffer the injuries alone. He doesn’t regret it. He’ll do it all over again.

“Is this how you pictured how things would be after?” You asked him gently. Levi closed his eyes for a brief moment before opening them. His dull gray eyes staring into yours.

“Yes and no.”

“That’s not a fair answer, Captain Levi.”

“Name.”

“Sorry.” You held your hands up in defense. He sighed softly.

“Yes, I pictured this after the rumbling. Marrying you, having a normal life with you. Just being with you in peace. What I didn’t expect was to be like this.” He glanced down at his hand again that bandaged up from the fingers he lost from that explosion. “I wasn’t much of a looker then but god look at me now.” He let out a sad chuckle. You frowned, feeling your heart aching. Was he serious right now? You thought Levi was the most handsome man you ever met. You were drawn to his dark gray hues. During the day they would glisten.

“Levi, don’t think that. You’re still handsome to me and always will be.”

“Don’t feed me that shit, name.” Levi scoffed. His stubbornness was still the same as before. You sighed and rested your chin on your hand letting him ramble on his negativity. “Probably see me as a pity case.”

“If that’s so, why do we still make love four times a week?” You questioned. When you looked over to your husband who was silent but red in the face. You felt your lips curl up into a smirk. “Cat got your tongue, captain Levi? Oh I’m sorry, I forgot to mention how we fuck multiple times. All night if I don’t tap out.” You purred in a tone you knew was his weakness. Levi shifted a bit in his seat then brought his left hand to clear his throat.

“Shut it you brat.”

You simply smiled at your victory.

“I love you, Levi. I don’t know why you can’t accept that.”

“You deserve better.”

“So do you.” You replied back. Levi glared at you once again.

“How can you say that shit?”

“Because you’re saying it so why not?” You shrugged then got up to pour yourself that tea you swore it was cold by now. Levi’s eye scanned down to your body how it hid underneath his white shirt. When you would lift to reach something it exposed some of your bare flesh underneath. He held his breath for a moment.

“I just…hope this is what you want.” His voice spoke. You didn’t turn around. Your eyes glanced down at your cup you were holding. Your ring finger was empty but the silver band stood on your nightstand with your glass of water that was empty now. Levi would always bring you a glass of water before bed.

“I want to spend my life with you, Levi. We’re at peace now. You’re at peace. You deserved this. You risked your life so many times. Everyday it’s a struggle for you to live with what happened. But we can do it together, just trust me?”

You turned with glossy eyes staring back over to him. He used his strength to stand up on his own for a moment. Then he made his way over to you. Once he was close enough, he placed his hand on your cheek just studying your face.

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings…I’m just scared to lose you.” He confessed not trying to make eye contact with you. You placed your hand on his cheek and stroked it with your thumb. You stroked over the scars left behind by the stitches on his face you did for him. “I don’t know what I would do if I ever lost you.”

“I survived to live a life with you, Levi.”

You whispered then leaned forward to place your lips against his. His arm wrapped around your waist to bring you closer to his body. His lips moved against yours passionately. He pushed his body against yours causing your lower back to press against the counter. You let out a shaky breath when he broke the kiss then started to kiss along your neck. His fingers trailed down to the buttons on your shirt. Just when you were going to close your eyes and enjoy his lips sucking on your skin you were interrupted.

“Mommy? Daddy?”

You both pulled away at the same time to see a groggy toddler with messy dark hair all over the place. He hugged his stuffed bear tightly with his other arm.

“Hi baby.” You greeted him softly making. Levi straighten your shirt making sure the buttons were still in tact.

“What are you doing up, hm?” Levi asked him. The toddler frowned with his gray eyes half open.

“I wanna sleep with you and mama.” He made grabby hands towards him. He shook his head.

“Sorry kid, you have to go sleep in your bed like a big boy.” Your son sniffed and his big gray eyes began to water. Of course you were a sucker but you didn’t expect for Levi to be the one who caved in. “Tsk. Fine. Just for tonight.” Levi grabbed his cane and began to walk back into your bedroom. The little boy’s eyes beamed, making you giggle quietly. You brought the two cups to the sink thinking you were in the clear.

“Clean those damn cups.” Levi’s voice echoed from the bedroom.

You sucked your teeth with an eye roll.

“I’ll clean them in the morning.” You entered the bedroom seeing Levi already in bed. He leaned over to bring his son into bed. He snuggled up against his father, sighing happily feeling his warmth. You went over to your side on the bed to lay next to your son.

Levi always spoke about not wanting children. You didn’t have a clear answer if you wanted them or not. Some days you did but bringing them in a world like this wasn’t fair either. But finding out you were pregnant on your wedding day was a surprise. It meant you were pregnant during the fight that stopped the rumbling.

It was a miracle the child growing inside of you survived. But he’s a fighter like his father.

Asher Levi Ackerman.

A fortunate blessing for you both.

You leaned against the headboard stroking Asher’s hair as his eyes began to close.

“He looks just like you.” You whispered to Levi as you moved some of Asher’s dark hair out of his face. He smiled a bit.

“You think so?”

“Everyone says it. He looks nothing like me.”

“But he acts like you. A brat.”

You reached over to shove him playfully. It made him chuckle.

“Sleep, name. We have a long day at the shop tomorrow.”

“Fuck me.” You mumbled under your breath with a groan.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Levi laid down and closed his eyes hearing you giggle quietly before drifting back to sleep. You laid down staring at your son and husband cuddling with one another. You could tell Levi’s nightmare was over for the night. You soon drifted into a deep slumber.

And yes, you did forget to wash the teacups in the sink

But Levi washed them before opening the tea shop for the day but he did remember to scold you about it.

[syoounn]

•Synopsis: Calling them cute~

•Characters: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Sigma

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━Dazai

You calling him “cutie” made him laugh softly, but still in his usual low, rumbling tone.

“Oh? Don’t get ahead of yourself Bella, It's unusual for you to call me cute hm?" He bragged with his usual smirk, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer against his body, trapping you between his chest and the headboard of your bed.

"You're more on the cuter side~" you said.

“More cute, huh?” He repeated back at you, gently nipping at your earlobe. He then proceeded to pepper your face and neck with loving kisses and small bite marks, enjoying how close he was to you.

“You gonna continue teasing me with such praise, Bella~? Be careful, or ‘m gonna have to devour you~.”

He looks at you with eyes filled with affection and adoration.

“Are you trying to start something, Bella?”

He teased, as his smirk turned into a sultry smirk, his body pressed against yours, his arms caging you in as his eyes glinted. He leans down, gently nipping at your neck, his hands going down to your hips and slowly rubbing your thigh.

"No..?" you said unsure.

He chuckled, shifting closer to you in bed, his arm wrapping lazily around your waist as he pulls you against him.

"Then I'll start something~" He said in flirty tone.

Perhaps flirting with him is not a bad idea...

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Chuuya

Both of you were having a cuddly session, you can't help admire Chuuya’s face as the word "cute" manage to pass your lips making him blush a little.

“Yeah, yeah… Quit callin’ me cute. I’m a mafioso for damn’s sake…” Chuuya grumbled quietly, his cheeks turning a light pink as he tried to deny your words. Despite that he couldn’t help but find compliments somewhat adorable.

"Still cute" you said.

Chuuya let out another small huff as he heard you call him cute again, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“Shut up… I ain’t cute…” He muttered in a somewhat flustered voice, pouting.

"Why you keep denying?" you said teasingly.

“Because I’m supposed to be a tough mafioso, not a cutesy dude…” He mumbled back irritably, crossing his arms as he let out a small huff.

“I ain’t cute, I’m rugged and handsome…!”

You giggled as you spoke.. "Cute like a chihuahua.."

Chuuya froze as he heard you compare him to a chihuahua, and then blushed a dark shade of red as the realization dawned on him.

“A Chihuahua?! I ain’t cute like a damn chihuahua!!” He protested loudly, his face becoming redder.

Chuuya’s face continued to be red as you compared him to a chihuahua, clearly not liking the idea of having traits similar to a small dog. He let out a small, indignant huff.

“Stop comparin’ me to a damn Chihuahua…” He muttered, an annoyed expression on his face.

"I thought you love dogs..." you said.

“I do, but that doesn’t mean I wanna be compared to a Chihuahua…” He muttered back indignantly, pouting slightly. He let out a small huff, clearly not finding being compared to a small dog pleasant.

“Y’gotta stop comparin’ me to cute lil’ puppies, Dollface. It’s annoyin’…” He mumbled, clearly not used to being called cute like that.

You were still giggling as you can't help how cute he is while he kept denying it.

Chuuya stared at you as you kept giggling, his expression conflicted between irritation and embarrassment at your reaction to his protests.

“Quit giggling at me dammit… It’s annoying!” He grumbled in his grumpy voice, crossing his arms and pouting more.

Chuuya continued to watch you, his expression now more pouty than irritated. He huffed quietly before mumbling to himself. Yet he enjoyed the view of you giggling and admiring your face.. he’s such a tsundere...

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Fyodor

A soft huff. Fyodor's expression remains neutral, though the slightest of pink tints his cheeks. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against the door as he stares you down. "My, how quite unexpected that a man as myself would be considered cute."

He lifts his gloved hand and lets his fingers slide through your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear for a simple moment before they find your chin, tilting your head up to make you look him in the eyes, once more. "My, perhaps it really is your charming innocence and naivety that make me accept such a compliment."

"Mhm.. you're truly cute." You said.

"Oh? Is that so, my dear?" He murmurs, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. But the fingers on your chin tighten a little, and he leans in close, his mouth only a few breaths away from your own. "Say that again." His breath tickles your cheek, and there's a dangerous gleam in his dark eyes, the purple of his irises barely visible.

"You're cute..?"

He hums, and finally brushes his lips against yours in a soft, almost chaste kiss - a sharp contrast to the possessive, demanding grip he still holds onto your hair with.

"You should be careful with the way you use your words, my dear wife." His breath ghosts over your lips as he utters his next words, his voice a low murmur. "Though I will allow you to call me cute, since it came from your mouth."

He suddenly grabs your chin again, holding you firmly, as his body pins you back against the door, the height difference all the more obvious as he tilts his head and leans in to whisper by your ear. "Just remember, my dear, do not take advantage of my mercy for you know I could make your life a living hell."

After he said that you can feel the shiver run down on your spine and decided not to call him that again.

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Sigma

His smile widened as you called him cute, the blush on his face spreading across his cheeks as he felt his heart skip a beat while taking in a deep breath.

“O-oh, am I?” He said as he held his soft shy smile, a hand moving up to his own cheek rubbing it as he tried not to get flustered over your compliment.

"You are.." you said.

He felt heat building up on his face, his heart racing as you confirmed what he said was true. The feeling of his beating heart echoing in his ears was enough to tell him that he was falling deeper and deeper for you.

“T-.. Thank you..”

He managed to get out as his voice cracked, still embarrassed.

You stared at him and admiring him.. As he notices you staring at him, making his blush spread across his face even more, his smile widening as he tilted his head, taking in a deep breath he spoke once again.

“Y-you’re making me feel flustered again.” He said softly as he chuckled nervously.

Feeling too shy to look at you, Sigma felt his breath hitch noticing you were still staring. After a moment or two he slowly lifted his head back up to look at you with soft shy blush filled eyes.

“I… don’t think I can work in this state…” He muttered softly, not sure what to with his now rapidly beating heart.

The sudden call and the sound of his phone going off abruptly pulled Sigma out of his flustered state as he immediately sat upright and reached out to grab his phone, answering the call.

“Ah, Yes? What is it?” He asked holding the phone to his ear, hoping that it was nothing serious that required his immediate attention.

Right after the phone call ended, without any notice or warning, Sigma quickly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a tight hug as he buried his face into your chest to hide his flushed face. He could feel his heart rapidly beating as he held you in his arms

You then noticed he only shows you he's soft side which makes you adore him more as both of you had a cuddle session... well.. he probably completely forgot his work now.

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(Request is available!) :3

[redstarwriting]

his girl | ii. envy me

earth 42!miles morales x fem!reader | miles morales x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: language, insults, spoilers, probably bad spanish, 42 Miles and reader get into a little spat, stubborn 42 Miles, violent 42 Miles, Miles and Miles almost fight twice

a/n: teehee and so it begins 🤭 didn’t expect this to turn into a whole series but i’m not mad. i hope y’all enjoy the storyline i thought up and please, by all means, give me your input! thank you all for the support 🖤 enjoy :)

previous chapter: i. his girl

now reading: ii. envy me

next chapter: iii. all the riches

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Miles, in fact, did not run. He was too taken aback to do anything, even though his body was screaming at him too. And he was too focused on your confused face. You looked exactly like his (Y/n), and it made his heart ache. And that is how other Miles was able to knock him out so fast. And why he just woke up in his Uncle Aaron’s apartment, chained to the punching bag, just like he did to Peter after first meeting him. He hears his uncle's music blaring from his record player. He looks in the direction it’s coming from. His eyes widen as he sees his Uncle Aaron. He’s alive. “Uncle Aaron?”

“Not your tío,” 42 Miles says, and Miles glares at him. “I’m just tryna go home, bro. Why are you doing this? What are you getting from this?”

“You said you’re from a different dimension?”

“Yeah. And?” Miles asks, narrowing his eyes at him. “Why are you here?”

“I told you I was sent here by mistake! I just wanna get back to my world, man. Dad’ll die,” he says, exasperated, and Miles stares at him with a blank expression. “Your dad alive?”

“Yeah, of course, he is,” Miles says, and 42 Miles frowns slightly. “Oh.”

Miles normally would be able to piece together what the disappointment in his voice would mean. But he's a little preoccupied with multiple other thoughts currently to necessarily care to psychoanalyze his own behaviors. He also doesn’t have the chance to see Aaron’s face drop and see the sadness in his eyes. Or the way you immediately look at your Miles to make sure the news didn’t break him. “But he’s gonna die if you keep me here,” Miles explains, and 42 Miles nods. “Yeah. Well, you ain’t leaving.”

“…Please. You have to let me go,” Miles pleads. But 42 Miles just stares at him, unmoved. “Why would I do that?” he asks, placing his gauntlet next to Miles’ head. Miles frowns, placing his finger on the piece of metal linking the chains together, ready to electrocute it and make his escape. The other him stares at him with an unreadable expression, seemingly no emotion behind his eyes, and just as it feels like shit is about to go down, he hears your voice ring out. “Miles. Just let him go.” Both your Miles and 1610 Miles turn their heads to you. It’s the first time 1610 Miles noticed you were in here. “(Y/n)? Bro, why are you letting her around your business?” Miles asks, and 42 Miles shoots a venomous look at him. “She insisted on coming. This is her first time around this shit,” Miles hisses at him. 1610 Miles can’t help but feel a tightening in his chest. He wants nothing more than for you from his world to be here with him. Not even in a romantic way, at least that’s what he’s trying to convince himself. He just misses you. He chased you away, and now he doesn’t even know if he’ll be able to fix it. His thoughts are interrupted when you clear your throat. Both of the boys look back in your direction. You’re on Aaron’s couch, staring at your Miles with such intensity it makes even 1610 Miles lock up. He can only imagine what it’s like being the one on the receiving end of that look. He sees other Miles’ eyes soften in his peripheral vision as he removes his fist from beside Miles’ head. “Mi amor…”

“No. Let him go, there’s no point in keeping him here,” you say, and 42 Miles frowns. “Not one to let people go, (Y/n). You know that.”

“I don’t give a fuck, Morales.”

“Damn, ma! Not even callin’ me Miles now?” Miles asks, an edge to his voice. You frown. “No. Not right now. Let him go, and we’ll see.”

“Why you want me to let him go? Got a crush on him or something?” Miles asks, and you raise your eyebrow. You glance at Miles, then back to your Miles. “Technically, yeah. I do. Unless you’d prefer I break up with both of you right now,” you say back, your voice just as cold as your boyfriend’s. “You tellin’ me you’d rather have this guy? Sayin’ this guy is like me? Estás de broma…” he mutters, and Miles looks between the two of you. “Not to piss you off more, but this guy is still technically you,” Miles says, and 42 Miles glares at him. “Cállate. No one was talking to you.”

“Man, why do you hate me so much?! I’m you!” Miles says, exasperated. He just doesn’t understand why this version of him is so hostile to him. They’re basically the same! Except Miles is a superhero and other Miles is a supervillain, but they still both have super in the title so how different can they really be? “Is this a call for help or–”

Miles gets cut off but 42 Miles punching the punching bag, right by Miles’ head. Enough force is exuded that the sand from the bag flies out, starting to pour down the side of it. His eyes widen, and you gasp. Even Aaron reacts a bit to it. But maybe it’s just because someone who looks exactly like his nephew is on the receiving end of it this time. This time. “Miles!” you yell, standing up. “What?!”

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

“What I gotta do! You don’t get it, (Y/n)! This is the job!” Miles yells, and you roll your eyes. “Oh, please, Miles. This is the job? He’s you! Wouldn’t you be trying to get home if you knew you could save your dad?!” you yell, and he glares at you. “(Y/n). Don’t.”

“You know you would be,” you walk over to him, placing your hands on his cheeks. He subconsciously relaxes, but only slightly. You sigh. “You don’t have to be such a hardass all the time, amor,” you mumble, and he shakes his head. “No comprendes, amor… I have to be this way. Or else— “

“Miles, he’s not a part of the cartel. He’s not gonna tell anyone here that you let him go… he’s not even from here. It’s okay for you to think with your heart instead of your head just this once,” you say, and he huffs. “Nah. I stopped thinkin’ with my heart a long time ago,” he says, and a hurt expression crosses your face. “Then what am I? A calculated move for you to use as an adavantage when you need it?” you ask, venom in your words. “No, (Y/n), don’t be estúpida. You’re mi vida, but him? How I know he ain’t just some experiment they made? To get to me?” Miles asks, looking at you with a skeptical look. You sigh. “Dude! I don’t even know what you’re talking about! I have spider powers, is that a thing anyone else here has?!”

“No.”

“Exactly! Why would whoever you’re talking about make a carbon copy of you with enhanced biology just to use me for this?!” Miles asks, and you shrug. “He’s got a point, Miles,” you say, and 42 Miles looks at you again. “Thank you, (Y/n),” 1610 Miles says, and 42 Miles rolls his eyes. “(Y/n) you have to understand that I can’t take no chances. You know that the cartel will go after—”

“I know. I know, Miles, but I really don’t think that—”

“You don’t know that (Y/n). You don’t know them like I do,” Miles says, and you sigh. “Miles. Mi amor. Mi vida. Mi sol, listen to me. If he wanted you dead, he would have done it by now,” you try to get through to him. He glances back at Miles, and Miles can literally see the distrust and paranoia in his expression.

He must have been through so much shit. This is a world with no Spider-Man after all. And all this mention of a cartel? No wonder Miles turned to the Prowler. It’s similar to Aaron in his world, he thinks. He thought that he had nowhere else to turn, so he turned to crime. But deep down, he can’t be that bad. Right…?

“Amor, I need to be cautious. I just have to ask him some questions before… letting him go,” he mumbles, glancing at Aaron. Aaron nods. 1610 Miles gets the feeling they’re not planning on letting him go. You must get that feeling too, because you shake your head, pulling your hands away from Miles’ face. “I can’t believe you right now,” you say, and he frowns. “(Y/n), please just try to understand—”

“No, Miles! I’m done trying to understand you when you never try to understand me!” you yell, and he clenches his jaw. “What do you mean by that, huh?” he asks, and you scoff. “I just. I need to leave. Before I do something I regret.”

“Like what, huh? Break up with me? Fight with me? Actually understand where I’m coming from for once?” Aaron cringes at that. You’re probably the most understanding person in his life other than him. That wasn’t the right choice of words. And you let him know it. “FOR ONCE?! Miles! Oh my god! Are you serious right now?! How many times have you tried to understand me?! I lost people too, you know! And I’m not out here—”

“Do you think I want to do this, (Y/n)?! Be fuckin’ for rea! I do this for you!” he yells back, and you shake your head, frustrated to the point of tears. “I never asked you to do this!”

“You didn’t need to because I love you enough to want to without you asking me to! You need it, Mamá needs it, everyone needs it, and I can provide it for all of you!” You angrily wipe a tear away, trying desperately to keep the rest of them contained. Miles softens. “Amor, no necesitas llorar—”

“Stop, Miles. Just… just stop. I need some air, don’t follow me,” you turn, hurrying to Aaron’s door. Miles steps forward to go after you, but Aaron puts a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. “Nah, man. Give her some space. She’ll come around,” Aaron says, and Miles clenches his fists. As soon as he sees you slip out of the door, closing it behind you, he turns to Miles. “This is your fault,” he says, pointing at him. “Miles,” Aaron says, crossing his arms. While he is also weary of this new Miles, his Miles isn’t thinking rationally right now. Then again, he is only 15. That’s why Aaron is here, sometimes he needs some assistance. “Why you lookin’ at me like that?” Aaron asks the other Miles. Miles hadn’t even realized he’d been staring. He shakes his head. “Nothing… nothing. Just… good to see you. Haven’t in a while,” he mumbles, and Aaron raises his eyebrow. That could mean a few things. Best not to dwell on it, though. 

“Who are you, really?” 42 Miles asks, and 1610 Miles groans. “I’m you, dude! Why is that so hard to understand?! I’m not a part of a cartel or anything I just want to get home!” Miles is frustrated. Seeing the world they live in from Aaron’s window, he gets why Miles is so… paranoid. But honestly, how long can he keep this uncertainty up? “Explain how you got here. And don’t just say ‘by mistake,’ alright?” Miles says, showing the claws on his gauntlets. Miles rolls his eyes. “I’m Spider-Man, right? And there’s tons of different Spider-Mans… men? Not important, there’s other me’s! And Spider-Women, Spider-People in a bunch of different dimensions, one of them, Miguel, figured out how to travel dimensions and we all met each other… except I wasn’t supposed to meet them because the spider that made me Spider-Man actually came from this world so someone here was supposed to get bit and I wasn't supposed to exist like this, but—”

“Wait… you sayin’ my world ain’t supposed to be like this…?” Miles asks, and Miles nods. “Yes. The people at Alchemax on my world built a collider and had the spider come to my world and it got out and—”

“You’re the reason for this?” Miles looks at himself, who is not even angrier. “I… n-no, but yes, I—” Miles gets cut off by a gauntlet getting placed way too close to his head again. What he doesn’t know is 42 Miles just put together everything in his head. This Miles was Spider-Man. And his dad was still alive because of it. If that were the case for him, maybe his dad wouldn’t have died. Maybe he wouldn’t have been like this. 

He could have had everything that was taken from him. 

“That’s enough talking, cabrón,” he growls, ready to escalate things yet again. Miles gets ready to break out of his restraints again, and Aaron gets ready to help Miles out. Then, over the music, they hear a scream.

A scream that undoubtedly belongs to you.

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