#and idk if she’ll let it slide

[birdy-bird27]

I’m so normal and not overthinking things rn :) I’m the normalest human ever

[rhaeheartzsquirrelz]

Handsy Vika

Sevika x Female Reader.

Your girlfriend loves your chest.

(Head Cannons || Smut + Fluff)

MEN DO NOT FUCKING INTERACT!!!

Cw: Nipple play. Reader doesn’t have a specific chest size, but do they bounce?? idk if thats like.. IDK. 🤷🏽‍♀️

Not Proofread || Note: HAPPY NEW YEARS AAYYY!!! 🥳

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Sevika’s more of the handsy type.

She likes having her grip on things. Whether it’s holding your hand, tapping your ass, wrapping an arm around your waist or even your hips, she likes having you in her grasp— she likes the silent marking of her territory. Letting everyone know you’re hers and only hers.

One thing, however, that gets her attention more than anything else is your chest. She likes how plump your breasts look, how they’re just screaming for her to touch; for her hands.

She doesn’t have a specific type in how big her girlfriend’s boobs should be. But, as they say, the more the merrier.

She enjoys the view of your cleavage. She could stare at it for hours, really. The sight of you in a low cut top makes her hands itch for a poke, a squeeze even.

Even sitting in her lap at The Last Drop she has to hold back the urge to get a brush of a touch. It’s like there’s this invisible force pulling her hand to your chest.

One thing she’ll never admit is that she actually enjoys watching you walk around. She gets lewd thoughts just watching your breasts slightly bounce up and down.

We all know Sevika’s pretty damn protective, but it’s heightened whenever she sees someone’s eyes lingering a millisecond too long on the exposed skin of your chest. She knows you’re pretty, and pretty things attract attention, but that doesn’t mean she likes it. You’re her pretty thing, not some lost diamond waiting to be claimed.

What about when no one else is around? When it’s just the two of you in your shared apartment? When she can do whatever she wants to you?

Watching you walk around with your tight tank top turns her on. More than you’d ever expect.

It’s the way you’re so casually making your way towards the kitchen for a cup of water that gets her heart rate spiling. It’s the way your damn breasts look, all round and soft, that gets her mouth watering.

After trying her best to hold back, your girlfriend will call you over, feigning loneliness and luring you into her lap. And, undoubtedly, you never say no. Not even when her finger runs up and down your stomach, inching closer to your bra. How could you say no to pleasure?

She’ll sweet talk in your ear, whispering dirty little words about your breasts all the while cupping them under your shirt.

“My baby has really soft tits.” Yes, she calls them tits. “You’re harder than before, y’like this?” She’s referring to your hardened nipples. “What if I just?..” and she’ll give you a pinch and a hard pull.

Sometimes what turns her on further is pulling your shirt over your chest, not taking it off but only moving it. Sevika doesn’t understand why she thinks it’s so much more hotter, but all she knows is that she enjoys it.

Kissing your neck with her dark lips while twisting your nipples inbetween her fingers is one way to start it off. She’ll occasionally give them soft squeezes, pushing them together and, as embarrassing as it is for you, poke them and watch them recoil.

All you can do is shiver and moan. The cool metal of her mech hand always makes it harder to focus, especially when she slides it down, under your shorts, and presses it against your clit. It’s a sensation you can’t get enough of, can’t really describe. There’s no real motion, no friction, just a cold touch that makes you squirm.

(No, she won’t stick her mech fingers up your hoo-haa. She’s too scared it’ll scratch you. What if it malfunctions? She’d rather use her flesh fingers.)

Switching spots with her mech hand, she’ll rub against your pulsing clit. She likes feeling your hips shudder in her lap, the way your thighs close and push her fingers harder against you. She has no shame in what it does to her.

Her silver eyes never leave your form. She’ll stare at how her mech fingers are able to dig into your breast, how her flesh hand looks under your shorts, giving them a buldge, how you bite your lip in pure enjoyment, and even how your jaw drops afterwards. Sevika’s in love with your reactions.

Other than using her hands, Sevika likes tasting them aswell. In a comfortable position, she could gobble you up. Nipple in her mouth, she rubs her tongue against the tip. She’ll even, occasionally, give you a gentle bite, a suck and a pull.

She likes keeping eye contact while she does this, because, again, she loves seeing your face as she’s making you feel good. Knowing full well your cunt’s throbbing for more, yelling for contact, she won’t give it to you that quickly.

Alright, now.. what about Sevika when she’s not in the mood for sex? When all she needs is comfort?

After a long day of fixing up after someone’s bullshit, all your girlfriend needs is you.

She’ll come home late and immediately drag herself to the bedroom, laying her eyes on your half-asleep figure. It makes her sleepier.

And you, being the amazing girlfriend you are, always opening your arms for her muscular body to melt into.

She’ll rest her head on your natural cushions, arms lazily draped beside you on the bed as she deeply sighs in relief. Her back pain’s gone (she’s just distracted), her headache lessened, and she’s feeling so, so, so much better.

You’ll press heavenly kisses on her head, fingers playing with her dark hair all the while massaging her scalp. You know full well how to get her relaxed.

Earlier, the mention of your breasts feeling like stress balls— Yeah.. she’ll flip on her side and let her flesh hand give your chest a few, lazy squeezes. Your girlfriend’s too exhausted to care and she’ll continue until she’s snoring in your arms.

[michimichim]

author’s note: yes, yes i wrote 8.2k of pure filth and sin. yes i did that. and you would do it too, for a check?!🧍🏾‍♀️

ningning x g!p reader -> you were so adamant on never crossing the line between coach and client. what changed??

Lucky me

The metro hums steadily, its wheels grinding against the tracks in a low, rhythmic growl that vibrates through the floor and up into your legs. The air is cold, mixed with the distant scent of someone’s coffee and the crisp, sterile smell of the train itself. You’re slouched in your seat, one earbud dangling loosely, the other playing a muted TikTok audio with your duffel bag sitting heavily between your spread feet.

You swipe lazily through your feed—a dog singing Expresso by Sabrina, a chef flipping pancakes, a man tumbling mid-spin—when your screen suddenly goes silent. A notification slides in from the top, muting the video.

For a moment, you think it’s probably Ning announcing she’ll be late again, her schedule bleeding into yours like it does at times.

“the companys gyms closed come to my place instead … i still want my session :( ”

You stare at the message, your thumb hovering over the screen. The gym’s closed? Since when? You tap the notification and type back, “Why’s the gym closed?”

Her reply comes almost instantly, as if she’d been waiting for you to ask. “not the owner idk.”

You let out a small laugh. Typical. You send back a thumbs up, followed by, “Address?”

The response is swift, as expected. An address pops up. Before you can click out of the chat, your eyes catch the last message from her—a view-only-once photo she’d sent a week ago. You hadn’t responded, but the image lingers in your mind like a stubborn song.

It was late that night, after your workout session. She’d texted you out of the blue, asking about squat positions. You’d rolled your eyes, knowing full well she’d already mastered the form. But then the photo came through—a view-only-once shot of her hips, the curve of her waist accentuated by the dim lighting. Her skin had looked soft, almost glowing, the faint shadow of her sports bra strap cutting across her back. The caption read: “sooo sore.”

You hadn’t replied. You never did. But the image stayed with you, popping up at the most inconvenient times—like now, as you sit on the metro. You shift in your seat, bouncing your legs lightly as the train slows into the next station. The address she sent isn’t too far—just five stops past the gym. You exit the chat and pull up the map, double-checking the route. 

You’ve been Ning’s fitness coach for a little over three months now. When she first walked into the gym, you didn’t recognize her—not that you would’ve, anyway. You don’t keep up with pop music or the latest celebrities. But even then, there was something about her that made her hard to ignore.

She’d strutted in wearing a pink tracksuit that hugged her figure a little too perfectly, the zipper pulled down just enough to reveal a sliver of a sports bra underneath. Her hair was styled in loose waves, and her makeup was flawless, as if she’d just stepped out of a photoshoot rather than a workout session. She carried herself like someone who knew exactly how much space she deserved to take up, a cold confidence bordering on arrogance.

Yet, there was a playfulness to her too, something appreciative in her eyes as they swept over you, lingering for a moment too long on your arms, your shoulders, your stomach. It wasn’t subtle—the way she looked you up and down, as if judging you but couldn’t quite decide if she approved.

“Are you my new trainer?” she’d asked, flipping her hair over her shoulder with a practiced ease. Her voice was light, almost teasing, but there was an edge to it, like she was testing you.

Far from impressed, you’d nodded, your tone flat. “If you’re Ning, then yes.”

She’d smirked, as if your indifference amused her. “Lucky me,” she’d said, dragging out the words like she was savoring them.

At first, you thought she’d be like most of your clients—rich, entitled, and quick to quit when the workouts got too hard. But Ning surprised you. She showed up consistently, pushed herself harder than anyone you’d trained in a while, and never complained. Well, almost never. She had a habit of backtalking, questioning your methods with a snark that made it clear she was just trying to get under your skin.

And she did. Not in the way she probably intended, though.

It wasn’t that you were affected by her. You weren’t. But you noticed things—the way she’d “accidentally” brush against you while reaching for a water bottle, her fingers grazing yours just long enough to make you wonder if it was on purpose. The way she’d stretch in front of you, her movements slow, as if she were putting on a show. The late-night texts she’d send, asking about workout tips you’d already explained a dozen times, only to follow up with a photo that had nothing to do with it.

You told yourself it was harmless. That she was just being Ning—playful, flirty, and a little too confident for her own good. But you couldn’t deny that she had a way of testing your patience, of pushing boundaries you hadn’t even realized were there.

Like the time she’d placed her hand on the small of your back, her touch light but lingering, as she leaned in to ask a question about her form. Or the way she’d laugh at her own jokes, her eyes sparkling as she looked at you like she knew something you didn’t.

You didn’t let it get to you. You couldn’t.

The elevator doors slide open, and you step into the hallway, the plush carpet muffling your footsteps. The air smells faintly of vanilla, mixed with the crisp, clean scent of expensive cleaning products. The walls are lined with modern art, the kind that looks like it costs more than your monthly rent, and the soft hum of the building’s heater system fills the silence.

You follow the numbers on the doors until you reach hers. The gold plaque beside the door reads “Penthouse A” in sleek, minimalist font. There’s muffled music coming from inside—a rap song with a heavy bassline that thrums through the door. Adjusting the strap of your duffel bag, you knock twice.

The door opens almost immediately, as if she’d been waiting on the other side. Ning leans against the frame, her arms crossed over her chest. She’s dressed in a white top that stopped just below her navel and a pair of booty shorts that hugged her curves in a way that felt almost intentional. Her hair is pulled into a high ponytail, a few strands framing her face, and her lips curved down as she takes you in.

She tilts her head, her gaze trailing slowly from your hoodie to your navy blue shorts, lingering for a beat too long on the exposed skin of your legs. “You know it’s freezing, right?” she says, her voice lilting with mock concern, though the glint in her eyes gives her away. “Did you even check the temperature before leaving the house?”

You shrug, the movement loose and unbothered. “I run hot,” you say, your tone dry. 

Ning steps aside, her arm brushing against yours as you pass her. The contact is brief, almost accidental, but her lips curve into a small smile as she closes the door behind you.

The living room stretches out before you, bathed in the warm glow of a single floor lamp. The city glitters through the windows, a painting of lights blurred by the faint condensation on the glass. A yoga mat lies in the center of the room, flanked by a pair of dumbbells in front of the t.v. The air carries a faint sweetness—vanilla, maybe—mixed with the crispness of clean linen.

“Nice place,” you say, toeing off your shoes before dropping your bag by the mat.

“Thanks.” Her voice floats from behind you, light and airy. She moves toward the kitchen, her steps unhurried, the soft swish of her shorts brushing against her thighs. The muffled bass of a rap song pulses faintly in the background.

She opens the fridge, the cool light spilling over her face as she glances over her shoulder. “Can I get you a drink?” Her white nails tap lightly against the door, a casual rhythm that matches the beat of the music. “Water? Tea? Something stronger?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.”

You kneel by your bag, unzipping it with a sharp tug. The sound of Ning rummaging in the kitchen fills the silence—the clink of glass, the soft hiss of water from the tap. When you glance up, she’s leaning against the counter, a glass dangling from her fingers.

“You sure you don’t want anything?” she asks, her head tilting slightly. The light catches the curve of her neck, the faint sheen of sweat already glistening at her collarbone.

“I’m good, love,” you say, pulling out the resistance band. The material stretches taut between your hands as you test its give, the snap of rubber sharp.

She hums, low and noncommittal, “Love,”  before pushing off the counter. “That’s new.” Her footsteps are soft against the hardwood as she crosses the room, glass still in hand. She sets it down on the coffee table.

You hum back distractedly. Dismissive.

“So,” she says, turning to face you. Her arms cross over her chest, drawing attention to the way her top rides up just enough to reveal a winking jewel nestled in her belly button. The light catches the piercing, sending a faint glimmer. “What’s the plan for today?”

You stand, the resistance band still in hand, and gesture toward the mat. “Warm-up first. Then we’ll work on your core.”

Her lips twitch, like she’s holding back a laugh. “My core, huh?” She steps onto the mat, slowly , savoring the way your eyes follow her. She pauses, tilting her head slightly, her ponytail swaying with the motion.

“What do you think of my progress so far?” she asks, her voice light but laced with something sharper. Without waiting for an answer, she turns around, her hands resting on her hips as she glances over her shoulder. The curve of her waist dips into the swell of her hips, the fabric of her shorts clinging just enough to emphasize the shape of her ass.

When she turns back around, the outline of her breasts is unmistakable, the peaks of her nipples pressing against the fabric as she shifts her weight slightly. Her stomach is taut, the faint shadow of muscle definition visible beneath her smooth skin. Every movement she makes—the slight arch of her back, the way her shoulders roll as she adjusts her stance—draws attention to the lines of her body, lean and sculpted but undeniably soft in all the right places.

You step closer, the resistance band still dangling from your fingers. Your eyes trail over her body, oh so slowly, taking in what you hadn’t let yourself linger on before. 

You don’t rush. You take your time, letting your eyes roam over every detail, every inch of her. 

When your eyes finally meet hers, she’s still looking at you, lips parted slightly, like she’s waiting for you to say something. Anything.

You don’t disappoint.

“You’ve got the kind of body,” you say, pausing, your voice low and steady, “that makes me want to skip the workout and just fuck you right here on this mat.”

For a moment, she freezes. Her lips part slightly, a soft inhale catching in her throat, and her eyes widen just enough to betray the shock she’s trying to hide. 

She then bites her lower lip—plump, teasing, the kind of mouth that makes you wonder how much work she could put into something if she really tried. The glint in her eyes sharpens, flickering between shock and something darker, something intrigued.

But before she can regain her footing, you’re already pulling away. Your face smooths into cool indifference, like the last five seconds hadn’t just happened, like you didn’t just knock her off balance and leave her scrambling for control. Let her chew on that for a while.

The corner of your mouth twitches, barely noticeable. You lean back, exuding nothing but ease, like you weren’t the one who just set fire to the air between you.

“Let’s get to work.” The sharp clap of your hands slices through the tension, final, dismissive.

For a beat, she doesn’t move. Then, a soft, breathy laugh escapes her—equal parts incredulous and amused. She tilts her head, smirk curling slow and taunting. “That’s it?” she says, her voice thick with mock disappointment. “No follow-through? Figures.”

The taunt is obvious—bait, a challenge wrapped in condescension. She’s used to winning, used to having people scramble to impress her. She’s trying to make it sound like you’re the one who can’t keep up.

You don’t take it.

Instead, you pick up the resistance band, rolling it between your fingers, your grip tightening just slightly. Follow-through? She’ll get it. Just not the way she’s expecting.

“Warm-up first,” you say, tone all business, as if you hadn’t just said something filthy enough to make her breath hitch. “Then we’ll hit your core.”

Her eyes flick to your hands, then back to your face, her smirk deepening like she’s already imagining ways to make you crack.

Good. Let her try.

The workout begins, and it doesn’t take long for Ning to start pushing boundaries.

During side lunges, she sways her hips with every rep, exaggerating the movement just enough to make you notice. The curve of her ass so fucking alluring as she dips low, her shorts riding up with each motion, teasing more skin than they cover. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

She glances over her shoulder, catching your eyes flicker—just for a second. Her lips curl, slow and knowing.

“Am I doing this right?” she asks, voice drenched in faux innocence. To drive the point home, she arches her back ever so slightly, her sports bra straining against her chest.

You twist your lips. “Lower your stance,” you say, voice flat, unreadable. But when you step in to adjust her form, your hands hovering just over her hips, you don’t miss the sharp inhale she takes, the way her breath catches for half a second before she steadies herself. The heat radiating from her skin, even through the fabric, doesn’t go unnoticed either.

She doesn’t make it easy.

During planks, she shifts her weight, her body trembling just enough to make it obvious. As she lowers herself a fraction more, her cleavage pushes forward, a bead of sweat tracing a slow path down her collarbone.

“This is harder than it looks,” she says, voice breathy, teasing. You catch the flicker of amusement in her eyes, the way she’s barely biting back a smile.

By the time you move to resistance band exercises, she’s fully committed to the game. She stands in front of the mirror, positioned just right so she can watch you watching her.

The band stretches tight around her feet, her thighs flexing with the effort, shoulders rolling back. Her breath comes slow, controlled, her lips parting slightly as she exhales. But it’s the way her gaze flickers—to your mouth, just for a split second—that makes your fingers twitch.

“How’s my form now?” she asks, her voice dipping lower, threading with something suggestive. She already knows the answer.

“Better,” you say, tone even, detached. But the slight clench of your jaw betrays you.

And she sees it.

The workout is over, but the tension lingers—thick, heavy, undeniable.

You're sprawled out on the couch, legs spread, back sinking into the cushions, muscles still burning from exertion. Sweat clings to your skin, cooling in slow, sticky trails. Your breathing is heavy, labored, chest rising and falling in deep, steady pulls. Across the room, Ning isn't much better—her shirt damp, her skin glistening under the low glow.

The only sound, aside from your breathing, is Flo Milli playing low in the background—sharp beats and cocky lyrics.

You watch her. Unapologetically now.

Ning stays stretching on the mat, rolling out her shoulders, arching her back in a way that puts her body on full display—whether it’s for you or just because she knows you’re looking, you can’t be sure. She tilts her head as she leans into a side stretch, her hair sticking to the damp curve of her neck, her breath coming out in slow, steady exhales.

Your fingers tap idly against your thigh. But the pressure between your legs is a different story—half-hard, pressing against the fabric of your shorts, aching just enough to make you bite down on the inside of your cheek.

Ning’s eyes flick toward your lap. And for once, she doesn’t smirk. She just watches back, lips slightly parted, chest still rising and falling with exertion.

“Look at me,” you say, voice low, firm.

She does.

And then—

“Take your top off.”

Ning doesn’t hesitate.

She shifts, languidly, sitting up on her knees on the mat, her hands sliding over her thighs as she straightens. 

Her gaze stays locked on yours as her fingers hook under the hem of her top. She drags the fabric up over her stomach, revealing inch after inch of glistening skin, the defined lines of her full waist, the swell of her tits beneath the tight compression of her bra.

She peels it off in one slow motion, arms raising above her head, back arching slightly as she pulls the damp shirt over her head. The movement makes her chest lift, makes the slick skin of her stomach tighten, and you catch the way her breath shudders as the air rushes over her overheated body.

The shirt drops to the floor.

She sits there, on her knees, looking up at you, her white sports bra dark with sweat, clinging to her like a second skin. The fabric outlines everything—the perky buds, the goosebumps.

Her fingers trail absentmindedly over her thighs, nails scraping lightly over damp skin as she holds your gaze, her chin tilting up just enough to look like a challenge.

Your fingers stop tapping against your thigh.

And then—

"Come here," you say, voice rough, thick with something that coils tight in your stomach.

Ning's lips curve, slow and taunting, but she doesn't move. Not yet. Instead, she shifts her weight forward slightly, tilting her head. "That all?" she asks, voice low, teasing, her eyes flickering down, then back up again, like she's daring you to give her something more.

Your patience is razor-thin.

"Now," you say, sharper this time.

And this time, she listens.

Ning moves.

Slow. Cat-like.

She leans forward, pressing her palms flat against the mat, and starts crawling toward you.

Her hips sway behind her with each measured shift of her body, her back arching slightly, the smooth curve of her waist rolling with every movement. She keeps her eyes on you the entire time—heavy-lidded, dark with intent, burning with something teasing, something so fucking sexy.

That look—it sinks into your skin, into your chest, into the heat pooling low in your stomach. 

Her gaze flickers down for a second—just for a second—to your lap, to where your fingers have already moved between your legs, pressing. She sees it all. The way your hand is pressing against the hard, aching shape of your dick in your shorts. The way your thumb drags along the waistband like you’re debating just how far you’ll let this go.

And fuck, the way she looks at it.

She licks her lips—takes it between her front teeth. Then her lashes flutter as she looks back up at you, her eyes molten, her smirk barely-there but devastating all the same.

You don’t stop.

Your fingers tighten around your cock, your palm pressing down, pleased at the attention. You want her to watch.

She keeps moving.

Every inch she crawls forward, the space between you shrinks, the tension growing thick, charged, a live wire stretched between your bodies. You can feel her heat before she even touches you. The scent of sweat, of skin, of something unmistakably hers, seeping into the space between your knees.

And then she stops.

Right between your legs.

Her hands rest on your thighs, light at first, barely-there touches that only make the burn under your skin worse. She tilts her head, eyes dragging over your face, then down—down to your mouth, down to your hand, down to where your cock is begging for something, anything.

She breathes out, soft, amused.

“So impatient,” she laments, her voice sweet and taunting, her nails dragging the slightest bit over your skin. “Didn’t even wait for me.”

But you don’t miss the way her own breath shudders at the sight, the way her fingers flex against your thighs like she’s trying to stop herself from moving too fast.

Like she’s just as desperate as you are.

Your eyes drag over her, taking in every inch, feeling every emotion—she’s close enough now that you can feel the warmth of her body between your legs, her hands still resting lightly on your thighs, fingers tracing barely-there patterns.

You let her sit there for a moment, just looking. Letting the weight of your gaze settle over her.

“Take it off.”

Your voice is low, even, but there’s no mistaking the command.

Ning tilts her head, her smirk deepening, playful and knowing. But she listens.

Her fingers move to the band of her sports bra, gripping the fabric, pulling it up—deliciously slow, enough to tease you. The damp material peels away from her skin, revealing inch by inch, until it drops to the floor beside her.

Your stomach tightens.

She’s so fucking sexy like this – flushed, glistening, every inch of her begging to be touched. Her breasts are perfect, soft and perky, the kind that makes your mouth go dry and your pulse spike. Her nipples are already hard, pebbled from the cool air—or maybe from the way your eyes drag over her, slow and unrelenting. You don’t know. You don’t care. All that matters is the ache in your hands, the hunger curling deep in your gut, the overwhelming need to touch, to taste, to take.

The way she stretches, the way her hands ghost over her tits, teasing pink nipples, knowing exactly what she’s doing. She rolls her shoulders back, letting herself be seen, and you catch the slight rise of her chest as she exhales, the way her thumb and index pinch her own skin, toying, testing.

You let your tongue swipe over your bottom lip, “You like showing off, don’t you?”

Ning moans, dragging her nails down her stomach, slow and absentminded. “You like watching,” she counters, her voice sweet, teasing, but there’s something darker under it now—something just as sharp as the way she looks at you.

And yet—

She looks up at you through her lashes, lips curving. “Do you like me like this?” Her fingers press a little harder against your thighs, a deliberate shift. “A pretty princess like me, sitting on the floor for you?”

She’s high maintenance, that much is clear. A spoiled little thing who knows exactly how much power she holds in a moment like this.

Your breath comes out slow, controlled, but the fabric of your shorts strains against your cock, already hard and throbbing, the tip damp and sensitive where it presses against the material. Every shift of your hips, every breath Ning takes, makes the coil of tension inside your stomach wind tighter, hotter, until it feels like you’re one touch away from snapping.

God, she’s something else.

And you need to take it up a notch. 

You watch her, a smile spreading across your face as you take her in once more. “You want me to like you like this, huh?” you ask, voice thick with amusement. 

You don’t break eye contact as you lean in, “I do love you like this,” you admit, the truth leaving your mouth like a slow burn. “A pretty little thing on your knees, looking up at me like you want to take my dick. Like you’ll do anything for me to fuck you the way you need it.”

Your hand slides from your thigh to grip her chin firmly, tilting her face up to meet yours. You let your thumb trace the curve of her cheek, dragging down to her throat, “But you’re going to have to work for it,” you murmur. “I want to see you begging. See how far you’ll go to make me want you more. If you can do that, then maybe I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

Your eyes trail down her form, “Get ready, love. You’re gonna need more than just a pretty face to get me to give in. Touch yourself." Your voice is rough with desire, leaving no room for backtalk as you lean back against the cushions.

Ning’s breath catches, just for a second. She doesn’t move right away—she lets the moment stretch, lets the silence thicken, lets you wait. But then, finally, her fingers start to trail lower, one hand skimming over your lap, and the other continues its trail down her pelvis, teasing herself just as much as she’s teasing you.

Your eyes stay locked on her, dark, but your hands aren’t still either. One slips inside your shorts to grab at your cock, while the other drags under your shirt, up your torso, under your bra, fingers brushing skin before finding your breast. You toy with yourself lazily, rolling a nipple between your fingers, watching the way her gaze flickers—between your hands, your mouth, your eyes.

She’s breathing harder now, her body tense with anticipation, her thighs pressing together like she’s feeling the weight of your stare everywhere at once.

"Show me how you touch yourself thinking of me."

Her lashes flutter, her fingers finally dipping lower, and the moment she touches her pussy over her shorts, the sound that slips past her lips—soft, breathy, wrecked—makes something tighten inside you, sharp and unrelenting.

And still, neither of you look away.

Especially you. Not when her fingers press gently against her shorts, the outline of her pussy unmistakable, the puffy shape of her lips visible beneath the thin material. She rubs herself at a teasing rhythm that makes it clear she knows exactly how much it’s affecting you.

She keeps her touch light at first—  the fabric clings to her, dampening with each press of her fingers, and you watch as she traces the seam of her shorts, feeling the way the pressure makes her hips shift, seeking something—more, more of her fingers. And more of your dick.

Her breath hitches, a soft sound that carries through the room, and her touch grows more urgent, her fingers pressing harder, making circles over her clit through the fabric. The shallow, uneven rhythm of her breath fills the space between you, and you don’t miss the tremor that runs through her thighs, or the subtle arch of her back as she grinds against her own hand, pushing for more friction, more sensation.

“Like this?” Her voice is quieter, breathless, teasing, but with an edge. It’s charged, heavy, and you can feel the way her gaze locks with yours, so hungry. It’s a question, yes—but it’s also an invitation.

You make a low sound of approval, a soft hum that vibrates in your chest, before your hand pats your lap, the gesture clear. And Ning doesn’t hesitate. She settles onto your lap, her body fitting against yours in all the right fucking ways. You feel the heat of her skin, the warmth of her pussy pressing against you even through the barrier of clothing, and it’s enough to make your cock throb, already hard and leaking against the fabric of your shorts.

She feels it too—the way it presses deeper, pulsing, the shape firm and insistent even through the thin barrier of fabric. Each shift, each subtle movement, each brush of the fat head pressing against her.

The music changes. The sound is light, playful, but charged with an energy that mirrors the way you’re both moving. Ning giggles, something light and teasing as she shifts, her hands traveling over your shoulders, fingers lingering at the nape of your neck. She leans in, brushing her lips close to your ear.

“That’s my song,” she whispers. 

You feel the heat of her words settle between you, but there’s a different kind of heat now—the kind you can feel all over, the way her pussy starts sliding over your cock, the friction just enough to make your hips jerk forward instinctively.

“Let’s fuck to it.” Your voice is quieter, and without hesitation, you press your hips closer to hers. It’s a slow burn, a pressure building, each movement of her hips grinding against you sending shockwaves through your body.

“Let’s record it.” You feel her shift again, grinding just a little harder, her body rocking with the beat of the song. Each movement makes your cock strain against the fabric of your shorts—it feels like too much and not enough all at once, every inch of her body pressing against you, her warmth seeping through the thin material. Your cock is leaking at this point, the tip slick and sensitive where it presses against her clit.


Your hands slide down her sides, fingers digging into the curve of her hips as she grinds against you. She’s driving you absolutely wild. The heat is unbearable, but you’re not done teasing her yet.

One hand slips lower, fingers tracing the curve of her ass before you bring your palm down in a sharp, stinging slap, skin on skin. The sound echoes, and Ning gasps, her body jerking forward against yours.

"Mmm," she exhales, her voice unsteady yet laced with something playful. A slow smile tugs at her lips, and her eyes gleam with mischief as she gazes down at you. 

You smirk, your hand lingering on the warm, reddening skin. “You’d like that,” your voice low and rough, “seeing how I’d fuck you senseless to your songs? Watching yourself bounce on my dick while your own music plays in the background?”

Ning laughs, a soft, breathy sound. She shifts her weight, grinding harder against you, her hips rolling in a way that makes your cock throb. “Wouldn’t you?” she teases, her voice dripping with playful arrogance. “This ass was made to be seen over, and over again.”

“Damn right,” you agree, your fingers digging into her flesh as you pull her closer, your lips brushing against her ear. “And this ass?” You give her another slap, harder. “This ass is fucking. perfect.” 

She moans back, high and needy, and you feel her body tremble against yours. Her fingers tighten around your shoulders, nails pressing into your skin as your hands glide over her waist, fingers curving possessively around her sides. With a firm pull, you guide her hips back—against your hard bulge. 

Ning’s breath catches, a sharp inhale before she tosses her hair over her shoulder. Then, without hesitation, she leans in, lips grazing your neck before sucking softly at your pulse. Her tongue flicks out, tracing a slow, heated path from the base of your throat to your ear, the sensation sending an army of goosebumps all over your spine. And just as the warmth of her breath ghosts over your skin, she moves—hips rolling forward, grinding the cleft of her pussy lips right on the outline of your cock. 

“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” you reply, your voice steady despite the fire burning inside you. 

“Mmm,” she keens, her voice barely above a whisper. “Imagine what else I can do with my mouth.”

You grin, and your hand slides around to her front, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of her shorts, and she gasps so prettily, her hips bucking against your touch. Your fingers tease and tease her fold through skimpy fabric – and damn, is that a thong? – feeling how wet her pussy is. “You’re making me want to skip all that,” you say, your voice thick with desire to fuck her already. “Skip all of it and fuck you right away.”

Ning’s breath crumbles into stuttered gasps, her eyes locking with yours as she grinds against your hand, and you deliberately slide in one knuckle … then the next, the juices of her arousal giving you easy entrance despite the very tight clench of her inner walls. You can feel them fluttering, soft flesh enveloping your finger and almost sucking it in while she keeps at moaning and grinding. 

Your eyes drop to her tits, the sight of her pert nipples, so hard and begging for attention. You don’t hesitate—you lean in, capturing one nipple between your lips, sucking hard, your tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. The sharp gasp that escapes her lips is music to your ears, and you feel her body arch into you, her hands tangling in your hair, pulling you closer.

This close you can taste the salt on her skin, feel the way her breath hitches, the way her hips grind against yours. She bites her lip, a high-pitched moan slipping past her clenched teeth as you switch to her other nipple, giving it the same attention. Her back arches, her body trembling under your touch, and you can’t resist the urge to slap her ass again, hard.

“Fuck,” she whimpers, her voice breaking as her nails dig into your shoulders, her hips rocking against you, desperate for more friction, more of you. “Don’t stop,” she breathes, her words barely coherent, her body writhing under your hands and mouth.

You pull back just enough to look up at her, your lips glistening, her nipples red and swollen from your attention. Your hand keeps sliding over her cunt and the other still grips her ass, squeezing hard. “You like it when I take what I want?”

She nods, her eyes dark with need, her breath coming in shallow gasps. “Yes,” she whispers, her voice trembling, her body pressing into yours, begging for more. “Don’t stop.”

You smirk, your hand coming down on her ass again, the sharp sting making her cry out, her body jerking against yours.

“Oh, God…” Ning says, her voice trembling. She lifts herself slightly, just enough to slip her fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts. The elastic drags against your skin as you help her ease them down, before your cock finally snaps free. Her gaze lowers, drawn between your bodies, her lips parting slightly as she takes in the sight of you— dick resting thick and heavy against the flat plane of her stomach, the contrast making her breath hitch.

The hand that had been teasing her pussy, slick with her wetness, moves to grip your cock, the warmth of her arousal coating your skin as you tap the tip against her stomach. Both of your fluid smear across her skin as you tease her. 

“Think you can handle it?” you ask, cockily, your grip tightening slightly as you drag the head of your cock across her skin. The question hangs in the air, as you watch her reaction, your thumb brushing over the sensitive tip, smearing a bead of pre-cum.

Ning bites her lip, her eyes dark with mischief as she brings her thumb to your lips, pressing it gently against them. Her touch is soft, her nail sliding against your lower lip and before you can react, she pushes your hand away from your cock, her fingers wrapping around you instead. Her grip is firm, her thumb brushing over the sensitive head, and it’s your turn to curse, your hips jerking instinctively.

“I’ve seen bigger,” she says, her voice teasing, her lips curving into a smirk as she looks up at you. Right … It makes you laugh, a light, rumbling sound that vibrates through your chest, but the way her hand moves on you quickly sobers you up.

Thick beads of precum meet her fingers as she delves right up to the head, her soft fingertips massaging your aching gland, rubbing the slit with a precision that makes your breath hitch. You sigh, your hand gripping the flesh of her ass, fingers digging into her skin as she works you with practiced ease. Ning moans softly, her thumb brushing light, curved paths under the very tip of your cock, the sensation sending a shudder through the root of you and pushing up a fresh gush of precum—right onto her waiting hand.

She circles your slit, slowly, before starting a slide up and down your length, her palm slicked with your precum. The wet, sticky sound of her hand moving on you fills the room, mingling with the soft, breathy noises escaping your lips. Her eyes never leave yours, her gaze heavy with intent.

“But I bet,” she murmurs, her voice a sultry whisper, thick with mischief. Her thumb pressing against the sensitive underside of your cock, “you’ve never had this kind of pussy in your life.”


Ning’s words hang in the air, but instead of responding, you decide to take matters into your own hands. In one swift, decisive motion, you flip her onto her stomach, throwing her face down onto the couch. Her surprised gasp is muffled by the cushions, but it quickly turns into a laugh—soft, breathy, and dripping with amusement.

“Let’s put it to the test,” you say, your voice low and rough, your hands gripping her hips as you position yourself behind her.

Ning doesn’t resist. Instead, she arches her back, presenting herself to you. Turning her head just enough to catch your gaze, her lips curve to the side, amusement dancing in her gaze. “Mmm, I hit a nerve?” she purrs, her voice lilting, teasing, as she gives the smallest sway of her hips—just enough to taunt, just enough to push you further.

You don’t answer. She titters once again.

You tug your shirt off in one sharp motion, leaving you in just your bra, the cool air brushing against your heated skin. Your hands move to her shorts, fingers hooking into the waistband and yanking them down the round of her ass. The sight that greets you makes your breath catch—a black thong, barely there, framing her ass perfectly. The fabric clings to her, accentuating the curve of her back dips into the rise of her ass, still red from the marks of your palm. The muscles there are taut but soft, the kind that begs to be touched.

“Jesus.” You mutter, marvelling next at the faint stretch marks that curve along the sides of her hips, subtle and easy to miss. 

Ning glances back at you again, her smirk widening. “Like what you see?” she asks, her hips swaying again – she knows too well what it’s doing to you.

Her breathing hitches when your hand settles on her ass, the warmth of your palm so much better than the with the cool air against her skin. You tug the thong aside, the fabric sliding against her slick folds with a soft, wet noise that makes you shiver. 

Her pussy is a work of art, glistening and swollen, the kind of pretty that makes your mouth water and your cock aches. The lips are full and puffy, a delicate shade of pink that deepens to a flushed red where her arousal pools. The folds are soft, almost velvety, parting slightly, begging for you, the wetness coating her thighs and glistening under the light. Her clit peeks out from its hood, swollen and sensitive, a tiny bead of desire that seems to pulse with every shaky breath she takes. 

It’s so perfect, so hers. You want to ruin it in the best way possible.

A firm push of your thumb, and she stretches open, taking your digit with a low, raspy gasp that almost breaks into a moan. Her eyes flutter shut, her face flushing hot as she tries to steady her breathing, but it’s just not possible with the way your thumb plunges deep, exploring her slowly, dragging out with accurate precision.

And when your thumb slides free, she lets out a faint, protesting whine, but you don’t give her a chance to recover. Instead, you bring your hand down in sharp, stinging smacks—one after the other—each one landing on a different cheek with a satisfying crack, the sound mingling with her breathy cries.

By the time you’re done, she’s reduced to a trembling, sobbing cry-baby, her body arching into your touch even as she tries to catch her breath. You don’t let up. Leaning forward, you press your hips heavily against her ass, your cock grinding against her slick mound from beneath. The friction is delicious, the heat of her body searing against yours as you rock against her, light veins rough grinding against her clit.

“You want this dick? Hmm?” you tease, sliding your cock across her slick entrance, the tip catching on her soft, trembling lips. You can feel her warmth, the way her body quivers in anticipation, and it’s almost too much to resist. Ning tenses, her breath hitching as she fights to hold herself together, but her body betrays her. Her pussy is greedy, desperate, and even the slightest pressure has the head of your cock sinking in, her wetness making it impossible to resist. She gasps, a sharp, broken sound, and you can’t help but smirk. That’s how wet she is—how much she wants you…

She can barely speak, much less think on her own.

She wants you. She wants you. She wants you so badly. So blindly, bad!

She’s barely coherent, her mind a blank slate as she arches beneath you, blindly reaching out, her fingers clawing at the air as if she could pull you closer. Her heart pounds in her ears, a frantic rhythm that matches the way her body trembles. A desperate, whimpering sound escapes her lips, and you know she’s lost in this moment, consumed by the need for you. Everything else has faded away—there’s only you, only this. 

A deep, pulsing ache coils inside her, an unbearable emptiness that leaves her trembling with need. It’s maddening—the way she craves you, the way her body betrays her with every shallow breath, every instinctive movement. She’s drunk on anticipation, on the slow, torturous build of what’s to come, until she can’t help but press back, rolling her hips in search of more.

And then—relief, sharp and so good. The head slips fully inside, stretching her open, and a strangled cry spills from her lips. Her walls grip you instinctively, clinging tight, as if trying to hold you there, refusing to let you go.

The sensation is dizzying, your teeth sinking into your lip hard enough to taste copper, the world narrowing to nothing but the slick, suffocating heat of her cunt.

“Hmm, fuck,” you breathe out, a laugh tumbling from your lips—breathless, almost delirious. Slowly, you pull back, just enough to make her feel the loss, before sinking in again. Her walls yield effortlessly, wrapping around you, in a scorching, velvet embrace that pulses and grips, the sensation so intense it sends a shudder down your spine to your toes. You shift, angling your hips just right, upwards, and the effect is immediate—another broken moan spills from her lips, her back arching as pleasure rips through her.

"Aah—slow down, s-slow d—" she stammers, her voice barely a whisper beneath the rhythmic slap of skin against skin.

But you’re not feeling generous. Leaning in, your fingers tangle into her hair, tightening at the roots as you pull her head back, forcing her to meet your gaze.

” But you’ve had bigger?" you murmur against her ear, voice dark and edged with something primal. To punctuate your words, you thrust deep, savoring the way her body reacts—how she clenches around you, how her eyes squeeze shut as she cries out your name like a prayer. And Ning just takes it like a champ, her hole suckling at the base of your cock like a good cunt. Like a good whore. “Hmm? Answer me.”

And to drive the point home, you quicken your pace, each snap of your hips merciless, relentless. Her cries grow louder, more urgent, every stroke pushing her closer to the edge. Your grip in her hair tightens as you lean in, voice rough and demanding—

"Answer."

“No,” she gasps, her voice cracking, barely holding together as she struggles to form words. "Hmm—fuck, no, I lied," She reaches back, fingers grasping at you in a desperate attempt to slow you down, but you catch her wrist with ease, pinning it behind her back. A quiet, defeated whimper escapes her, but it only fuels you.

Your other hand grips the soft curve of her ass, fingers digging into heated skin before you drag her back onto you with a sharp, punishing thrust. She screams—high, broken, the sound raw with pleasure and something dangerously close to surrender.

The room is filled with it—the sharp slap of skin meeting skin, the ragged sobs that spill from her lips, the wet, obscene sounds of her taking every inch of you. Your moans. You don’t let up. You can’t. You drive into her harder, deeper, until her toes curl and her entire body quakes beneath you, pleasure teetering on the edge of something unbearably exquisite.

She’s a mess beneath you—shaking, breathless, her thighs trembling, her ass flushed and hot beneath your grip. And you can’t get enough. Not of the way she clings to you, not of the way she tightens around you like she could die if you let her go, like she’s trying to milk every drop from you.

And she really didn’t lie. It’s the best pussy you’ve ever had. 

The distant thrum of music plays in the background, muffled and insignificant against the raw sounds of her pleasure—ragged breaths, gasping moans, the soft, wet suck of your cock inside of her.

You press her into the couch, your weight a delicious burden, pinning her beneath you as you drive into her with ruthless precision. Every thrust forces a choked cry from her lips, her body arching instinctively, desperate to take you deeper as she starts pleading to keep going.

But you don’t.

Slowly, you withdraw, savoring the way her walls clutch at you, slick and trembling, reluctant to let you leave. The sight of her—stretched, quivering, her body begging for more—sends a dark pulse of satisfaction through you.

And then, just as her fingers tighten in protest, you feed her the tip of your cock, slowly fucking into her. The drag is delicious. 

“Oh, look at that." your grip tightens around the back of her neck, pressing her deeper into the cushions as you claim her. The strain burns through your arms and thighs, but you don’t stop. There’s no stopping this. Your hips drive forward with relentless force, each thrust sending shockwaves through her body. "You're so fucking pretty when you're screaming my name, Ning."

Those moans, broken and breathless, feed the fire curling low in your spine. You're close—so fucking close.

For a moment, you pause, chest heaving, grounding yourself in the sight of her beneath you. But Ning isn’t having it. She pushes back onto you, hips rolling in desperation, her body greedy for more. Her moans come in shattered gasps, trembling with need and you can’t help but groan at the sight of her ass bouncing against your hips, her pussy dripping with every thrust. 

“Hmm, you’re so big,” she whimpers, cries, voice raw, breath hitching as she arches her back, taking you deeper. “Oh, fuck!” 

Your gaze is heavy, hooded, as you watch yourself disappear into her, each lsnguid thrust mesmerizing. The sight of her—sprawled out, pussy taking you so greedily—sends a thrill curling through you.

She rolls her hips on the next drag, making her ass jiggle, thighs slapping against your skin as she forces you deeper, desperate, insatiable. It’s like she’s been starving for this, for you, ever since she first laid eyes on you.

A low, guttural moan tears from your throat as you pull back before slamming into her again, harder, faster. The pace turns frantic, all restraint shattering. Ning’s cries pitch higher, her body bowing against the force of your thrusts. Her thighs shake, her ass reddened beneath your grip, and she can feel herself dripping, her pussy throbbing with an imminent release. She’s dripping, throbbing, falling apart beneath you, and when she whimpers your name, voice ragged and desperate, it nearly undoes you.

She’s screaming now, her body writhing beneath you as you fuck her through her orgasm, fucking her like she’s nothing more than a whore, your hands sliding down from her waist, pressing two fingers to her engorged clit, and she can’t even scream, her pussy clenches around you as she comes, her body shaking with the force of it.  You’re right behind, gripping her tightly as you pulse inside her and fill her with your release, the sensation so intense it leaves you breathless.

[covenofagatha]

Hi! I’m new here! Idk if you are taking requests rn but umm, do you think maybe you could write the filthiest smut where Agatha is obsessed with readers pussy and after she pulls out she like holds her open just to watch her convulse and throb and watch everything seep out and she just talks about how perfect her pussy is? And then maybe reader has a biiiiiig thing for Agatha’s titties and can’t get enough of them in her mouth and falls asleep sucking on them for comfort? If not it’s okay I totally get it. Your fics do more for me than any other fics I’ve read 🙈

This was a hot request tbh so thank you! Hope it's as filthy as you wanted it to be

Title is Lana Del Rey song because coming up with titles are the bane of my existence and it kind of works

Cherry Cola

Agatha comes home after being away on a work trip for a week and you two have some catching up to do

Word count: 2400

Warnings: porn, literally pure filth and smut, girl penis agatha, cum fixation, fingering, sex, mommy kink, nipple fixation, slight nursing kink, so much dirty talk, think this is all

You’ve been perpetually horny for a week straight and it’s all your girlfriend’s fault. 

She left on Sunday for a work trip and as she kissed you goodbye, told you that, under no circumstances at all, were you allowed to touch yourself until she was back on Saturday. 

You thought it wouldn’t be that much of a challenge, since she wouldn’t be here constantly turning you on. 

And then the texts started. The photos. The videos. 

Messages like I wanna fuck you so bad and Need to fill you with my cum and watch it leak out of you and God I miss your tight pretty pussy so much filled your phone and she would send accompanying pictures and recordings of her hard and leaking cock or of the mess she made after she came. 

Your particular favorite was a video of her furiously stroking her cock by the hotel window and splattering her cum all over it. Her grunts are still ingrained in your mind. 

After a week of those, you were slowly going out of your mind, constantly having to change your underwear, but never once touching yourself. 

Even though it was literal torture. 

But it’s finally Saturday, and you are vibrating with need while you wait for Agatha to come home. She hasn’t told you when she’ll get there, so you pace restlessly around the kitchen for most of the day, trying and failing to distract yourself with something. 

You’ve never been so turned on in your life, and Agatha has never let you go this long without an orgasm. 

And then finally, finally, you hear the key turning in the lock and the front door opening. 

Agatha barely makes it into the foyer before you pounce, slamming her back against the wall and kissing her. You’re already wet just from that when she sweeps her tongue into your mouth and switches positions to pin your arms up. 

“Did you miss me, baby?” She asks amusedly, tugging your bottom lip between her teeth. 

“So much, Aggie,” you say, squirming against her restraint. You just need to feel her against you. 

She tightens her grip with a smirk and looks you up and down in your desperate state. “Were you a good girl while mommy was gone?” 

You nod and groan. “I didn’t touch myself, no thanks to what you sent. You were killing me.” 

“So good for me, doll. You’ll do anything I say, won’t you? You want my cock inside you?” 

You bite your lip, eyes dropping to the tent in her pants. All you can think about is having her inside you. It’s not a want anymore, it’s a completely all-consuming need. 

She grabs your chin in her hand and roughly tilts you up to make eye contact. “Use your words, baby. Tell mommy what you want.” 

You swallow thickly, desire holding your brain hostage. “I want you,” you rasp and she raises an eyebrow, urging you on. Her fingers slide down to your throat as a warning. “I want your cock inside me. I want to feel you throbbing and twitching because of me and I want you to fill me up like only you can. Fill up my perfect pussy that belongs to you. Feel you drip out of me cause I love it when you cum inside me.” 

You’ve been with Agatha long enough to know exactly what she loves to hear. And she loves to hear filthy, explicit details, especially about your cunt. Which you loved to provide.

Before her, you had never really been one to voice your desires. It made you feel embarrassed, almost. 

But with Agatha, she wants to hear every single dirty thing on your mind. It had taken some getting used to at first, but when you realized what to say, and the effect it had on both of you, you couldn’t believe you’d never done it before. 

Agatha moans at your words and drags you in for a hot kiss, her tongue moving against yours and staking her claim of your mouth. It’s like she’s trying to invade your body through your lips and you let her. 

The hand around your throat slides down your stomach and dips under the waistband of your pants and you whimper when she touches you over your underwear. 

“God, have you been this soaked the entire week?” She asks with a taunting laugh and your cheeks flush. 

But she isn’t wrong. “I went through so many pairs of underwear,” you admit quietly and her smirk gets even bigger. 

“Well, we better do something about that, don’t you think?” 

“Please, mommy, need you to fuck me,” you beg and she grabs your hand and drags you up the stairs and to the bedroom. The ache inside you has grown into a gaping cavern. 

Agatha puts you onto the bed and makes quick work of unbuttoning her shirt and unclasping her bra. She shimmies off her pants and you do the same, throwing your clothes somewhere across the room. 

Your eyes immediately fall to your girlfriend’s breasts. 

You may or may not have a huge thing about them. 

They’re perky and so soft and there’s something about having her nipple in your mouth that makes you feel at peace with the world. 

She sees you looking. “Want to suck on mommy?” 

The question makes even more heat flare through you but you only have one thing on your mind right now. 

Her cock. 

Which is harder than a rock, precum dripping off it, and standing at attention pointing right toward you.

You shake your head. “Maybe later, just want you inside me now.” 

She growls and crawls on the bed to you, grabbing your legs and yanking so you’re flat on your back. You gasp, waiting for her to push into you, but instead you feel her fingers stroking through your folds. 

“God, I’ve missed your perfect pussy,” she sighs, teasing at your entrance. Your hips roll to try to get her inside, but she collects your wetness and circles your clit with it. 

“Mommy,” you whine, needier than ever. 

She shushes you. “I know, sweetheart, but be a good girl and let mommy play with you for a bit. I’ve missed your pretty cunt so much this past week.” 

You bite your lip but noises still slip out as she fucks two fingers into easily and twists them. She scissors them to stretch you out, grinning when your back arches off the bed. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight and wet and warm around me,” she says, curling her fingers just right. “Can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock. You always feel so good squeezing around me, just need to fill you up and watch mommy’s love drip out of you.”

You keen at the visual, a light sheen breaking out over your body. She’s still fucking you with her fingers and you’re panting, babbling for more. 

“Are you ready for my cock?” She asks and you immediately whimper, making her laugh. 

“Please, mommy, need you to fuck me,” you say, your head spinning with want. 

“What do you want?” She gets into position, grabbing her cock and stroking it, spreading her precum up and down her length. You get sidetracked watching her hips jerk forward and you moan loudly when she leans down to rub her tip against your clit. 

Your head twists to the side as she begins to move herself up and down, coating her cock with your wetness, each time coming back up to move around your clit. Agatha lets out little gasps at the feeling and it’s only doing more to spur you on. 

“Aggie, please, please, please,” you cry, and she pushes just the tip in. You squirm to try and get more of her in you, but she pauses and just admires the sight. 

“Fuck, baby doll, you look so nice like this. Might have to take some pictures of my cock stretching you out for the next time I have to go away for so long,” she says and you clench around her. She, of course, notices and smirks. “I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

“Anything you want, mommy, just please fuck me!” 

She tuts at your impatience, but pushes in and bottoms out nonetheless. Your mouth opens at the not unpleasant stretch but nothing comes out and Agatha moans at the feeling of your walls around her again. Her hands scramble for purchase on your hips so she’s able to angle you up and she can slide in deeper. 

“Fuck,” she swears in a low voice and you think you get wetter. Hearing her so affected by you is always a massive turn-on. She starts slowly rutting into you, never pulling out very much like it would be a pain to leave your cunt. “Been too long, I missed this. You feel so good stretched around me.” 

She positions herself over you so she can kiss you as she begins to move in and out of you more. You have to continuously break away from her mouth though because she keeps hitting that perfect spongy spot inside you like always and it feels too good. 

Your head drops back against the pillow beneath you and your eyes roll back in your head from the way she’s fucking you. 

Agatha always knows exactly what you need and she always gives it to you. And based on the way she’s breathing, she’s getting exactly what she needs, too. 

You become distracted by the movement of her breasts with every push and you can’t help yourself from grabbing them with your hands. When you brush over her nipples, you can feel her pulse inside you and her rhythm stutters for a moment. 

“There you go, baby, play with mommy’s boobs,” she mutters, putting more effort into regaining her speed than talking loudly. But her mouth is right next to your ear so you hear her clearly. You roll her nipples between your fingers, tugging whenever she gives you a particularly rough thrust. 

You can feel her throbbing inside you and you know she’s getting close. Which is perfect, because you are, too. You know she can feel you clenching when she deliciously drags her cock against your walls and tiny noises from both of you fill the air. 

“Fuck, baby, mommy’s going to cum in your pussy,” she groans, her drives becoming shorter and shallower. You reach down to rub at your clit to push yourself over the finish line but she slaps your hand away and her thumb takes its place.

You’re so close. 

“Need you to cum inside me, need to feel it,” you blather and her whole body stiffens and her breathing gets tighter. She goes silent for a moment before letting out a long moan, and you feel her throb inside you before a warmth spreads. 

Her cum inside you triggers your orgasm and you tip off the edge of the precipice and pleasure explodes through your body. Cumming for the first time in a week is like dying and going to heaven, only to be revived by an angel. 

The moment you come down, Agatha pulls out and quickly moves down your body. 

This is her favorite part. 

She maneuvers your legs so they’re bent with your feet on the bed and spreads your cunt lips open with her fingers. You gasp when you feel her cum start to ooze out and Agatha’s nails dig into your thigh at the sight. 

“God, baby, look at that,” she says in awe. She collects it on two fingers and holds it up so you can see. Your lips part involuntarily and she reaches back down to wrap her hand around her cock and start lightly stroking. 

Your throat suddenly feels dry at the image of Agatha doing that and you lightly cough. 

A glob of her cum splatters out of you and Agatha groans lustfully, hips lurching forward. 

“Your fucking pussy,” she says. “So fucking perfect and pretty for me. I fucking love watching my cum seep out of you after I ruin you.” 

You can’t help but moan when she takes her hand off her cock and begins spreading her seed all over your pussy lips, absolutely smearing it everywhere like she’s marking you. 

“God, Agatha,” you whimper when she begins to rub at your clit. Your walls squeeze and it sends more of her cum trickling out, which is her plan. 

“It’s so hot seeing you covered with me,” she sighs and begins to circle you even faster, not penetrating you at all so when you start to convulse, her cum can flow right out. And it does; you can feel it leak and you can hear Agatha’s sharp breaths. 

You cum again, making a huge mess all over the bed and Agatha, who doesn’t mind one bit. 

She gets you a warm towel to clean your pussy and you lay on the bed, eyes closing, while she gets you a change of clothes. 

“How was that, baby?” She asks, helping you put on pajamas. She puts on sweats and an oversized purple flannel. 

You moan happily, immediately flocking to her side once she lays down next to you. “So good,” you answer, taking your rightful place on her shoulder with her arm wrapped around you. “Missed you so much.” 

She kisses your head and gently plays with the ends of your hair. “I missed you too, baby. Might have to take you with me next time.” 

You nod eagerly. “Hide me in your hotel room and fuck me all day and night,” you add and she chuckles. You shift a little, unsure of how to ask for what you need right now. 

But she notices your loaded silence and can put two and two together based on what you usually need after she’s been gone awhile. 

Without saying a word, she slowly starts to unbutton her flannel with one hand and you quickly help her to open it. 

“So needy for mommy,” she remarks but you can’t find it in you to care because her chest is bare to the world and so are your favorite things. 

You contentedly suck one of her nipples into your mouth and suckle on it, hand coming up to lazily play with the other one. 

Agatha moans softly when your tongue flicks around her and that’s how you fall asleep. 

With her nipple in your mouth, feeling perfectly fucked and fulfilled. 

[lxvsiick]

ICED COFFEE | JAKE SIM X READER

PAIRING: down bad! jake sim x nonchalant! fem! reader

SUMMARY: Jake visits the cafe every day to study but to only order drinks and watch his crush work.

GENRE: cafe, crushing, down bad jake, fluff

WORDCOUNT: 1.3k

A/N: I thought of the idea yesterday but wrote it today while thinking about coffee -- i really want some coffee right now but idk if im willing to walk through my campus for that ... um anyways, enjoy!

‧˚꒰🐾꒱༘⋆

The hum of conversation and the clatter of mugs filled the cozy coffee shop, sunlight filtering through the windows as customers quietly worked or chatted. Jake sat at a table near the counter, his textbooks sprawled open in front of him, but his eyes were far from the pages. Instead, they were glued to Y/n as she moved behind the counter, efficiently taking orders and preparing drinks.

He pretended to scribble something down in his notebook, glancing up every few seconds just to watch her pour a latte or chat with a customer. He’d been here for hours, supposedly to study, but all he’d done was order drinks he didn’t even want and admire the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she concentrated.

“Dude, you haven’t touched your notebook in over an hour,” Heeseung suddenly said, sliding into the seat next to him.

Jake jumped, startled out of his trance, as his six friends filed into the coffee shop, smirking knowingly.

“What are you guys doing here?” he muttered, trying to sound casual as he shut his notebook.

Jay raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “We’re here to witness this trainwreck.”

The others snickered, pulling up chairs around his table. They were grinning, fully aware of why he was there in the first place. Sunghoon across from him leaned in, smirking. “How many drinks have you ordered so far just to keep watching her?”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I’m just...you know, getting some studying done. That’s all.”

“Right,” Ni-ki drawled, glancing over at the counter where Y/n was working. “And totally not here because you’re down bad for her.”

The group broke into quiet laughter, and Jake shot them a warning look. “Shut up, she’ll hear you.”

“She probably already knows,” Sunoo teased. “How could she not? You’ve been sitting here like a lovesick puppy for hours.”

Before he could respond, Y/n came out from behind the counter, walking over to their table with a no-nonsense expression. She glanced at them, her hands on her hips, looking every bit the part of a no-nonsense employee.

“I just got a complaint about a group being too loud,” she said coolly, her eyes flicking to Jake and then back to the rest of them. “Keep it down, or you’re getting kicked out.”

His friends stifled their laughter, shooting each other amused glances, but Jake just sat there, trying—and failing—to look casual.

“Yeah, yeah,” Heeseung said, grinning up at her. “We’ll behave. Promise.”

Y/n nodded, giving them one last look before turning and walking back to the counter. Jake couldn’t help but watch her, and his friends caught him staring—again.

“You’ve got it bad, man,” Jungwon said, shaking his head. “Like, embarrassingly bad.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, cheeks flushing slightly. He couldn’t help it. She was right there, and every time she looked his way, it felt like his heart was trying to jump out of his chest.

Jay leaned in, still chuckling. “How long are you gonna pretend to ‘study’ before you finally ask her out?”

“I’m not pretending,” Jake protested, though even he didn’t believe it.

“You’ve been pretending since you walked in,” Ni-ki quipped. “And now we’re here to enjoy the show.”

As his friends continued to tease him, Jake let out a defeated sigh. They weren’t wrong—he was hopelessly in love with her. But for now, all he could do was watch her from across the room, his heart pounding every time she looked his way.

‧˚꒰🐾꒱༘⋆

The café had quieted down after the rush, leaving only a few customers scattered at tables, sipping their drinks or working on laptops. Jake remained at his table, idly tapping his pen against his notebook. He hadn’t been doing much studying since his friends left, but he wasn’t about to go home either—not when Y/n was still working behind the counter.

The bell above the door jingled, and an older male customer stepped in, glancing around before heading straight for the counter where Y/n stood. Jake watched as she greeted the man with her usual professionalism, her voice calm and polite as she took his order.

But something about the man’s demeanor put Jake on edge. He leaned forward, watching the exchange more closely.

“So, do you work here every day?” the man asked, leaning over the counter with a sly grin.

Y/n offered a polite smile, staying professional. “Only on some days. What can I get for you?”

“Maybe your number?” the man said, not-so-subtly ignoring the menu. “A girl like you probably has a long line of guys waiting, huh?”

Jake felt his stomach twist, a flash of annoyance flickering across his face. Y/n, however, remained calm.

“Just here to work,” she replied, her tone firm but still courteous. “Would you like to order something?”

The man chuckled, unfazed. “Come on, don’t be like that. How about after your shift? We could grab a drink.”

Jake clenched his jaw. He could tell Y/n was handling it professionally, but the guy wasn’t taking no for an answer. Standing up, Jake crossed the room before he even realized what he was doing.

Approaching the counter, he slipped into a role that he hoped would help.

“Hey,” he said, pretending to be irritated. “What’s taking so long? I’ve been waiting to order forever.”

The older man turned to look at him, clearly not pleased by the interruption.

Jake shot him an impatient glare. “I mean, you’ve been standing here for ages. Some of us are thirsty, you know?”

The customer frowned, clearly annoyed. “I’m ordering, kid. Relax.”

“Well, if you could hurry it up,” Jake said, folding his arms and acting like an impatient customer. “Some of us have places to be.”

The man huffed, grumbling under his breath before finally turning back to the counter. “Just a black coffee.”

Y/n rang him up, her face as neutral as ever, though her eyes flicked briefly to Jake, a hint of amusement there.

The older man paid for his coffee, still muttering, before walking away to wait for his order. Once he was out of earshot, Y/n let out a small breath, glancing at Jake with a faint smile.

“Thanks for that,” she said, her voice light but genuine. “He wasn’t getting the hint.”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, flustered now that the moment had passed. “Yeah, no problem. I just...didn’t want to see him keep bothering you.”

She smiled at him, then, in her usual nonchalant way, asked, “So, what do you want to order this time?”

He stared at her for a moment, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and resignation. He hadn’t planned on ordering anything, but now that he was at the counter...

With a sigh of defeat, he glanced at the menu. “I’ll take... another iced coffee. Thanks.”

She chuckled softly, shaking her head as she started preparing the drink. He watched her, feeling both proud of stepping in and a little awkward for having to order yet another drink just to cover his tracks.

As she handed him the cup, she gave him a knowing look. “You should really start studying instead of ordering all these drinks.”

He couldn’t help but smile sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get right on that.”

She laughed softly before turning back to her work, leaving him to return to his table with his heart racing, though he tried to play it cool. At least, for now, he had an excuse to stay a little longer.

‧˚꒰🐾꒱༘⋆

MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024

[strawberryblue-blog]

idk if this is weird if it is sorry! but hector eating out reader for his own pleasure after a bad day? like she’s squirming tryna get away when he’s overstimulating her but he’s holding her down because he knows if she’s acc too tired she’ll say the safe word (which she doesn’t)

Safe word —Hector Fort.

Summary: request.

Warning: yes. +18. Smut, oral f receiving, hector being dom, TOO explicit.

Words count: +1.8k

#SEXYNOTE: I apologize for the mistakes. English is not my first language.

The sound of pencil scratching paper and the soft typing on your laptop are the only things filling the room as you try to concentrate on your homework. College has you exhausted, your head filled with formulas, essays and deadlines that seem to give you no respite. Sighing, you stretch out in your chair, feeling the tension building up in your shoulders, wishing for a breather, if only for a moment. You know it's late but not yet your boyfriend hasn't returned, so you have a while longer to figure out your assignment and keep working.

A while later, or so you think, the door opens and you hear his presence before you see him. Minutes later, Hector walks through the door of the room, sighing, his breathing a bit labored, the floor creaking slightly under his steps. You know he's come in from training and with just a glance, you understand it wasn't a good day. His expression is hard, jaw clenched, muscles still tense with frustration. You watch him toss the bag with his workout clothes and booties in the corner of the room, making an unnecessary clatter.

The last few weeks have been like that, Hector still can't make the starting lineup and that has him a little upset. He knows he needs to give 100 percent and he's failing these days, so you try to support him as much as possible. You have your own problems, too, though.

He doesn't say anything at first. He just comes closer, his hands seeking your shoulders from behind, his warm body clinging to yours. His face sinks into your neck, his warm breath brushing against your skin. Your mind also wanders as you feel Hector's warmth on you, his still damp hair caressing your skin softly and ruffling your hair.

"Hi baby" you greet with a certain sweet tone.

He stops hugging you and looks at you with his tender but exhausted eyes. You feel the weight of his bad day, the need to let it all out, to release.

"I missed you" he murmurs against your skin, and his voice has that tinge of urgency, of restrained desire.

You missed him too. You also need something more than books and screens full of endless texts.

When you turn in your chair to look at him, his eyes are already dark with intensity. There are no more words. You barely manage to get up from the chair to embrace him when his lips fall on yours hungrily, with the desperation of one who seeks refuge in the only person who can soothe him. You respond with the same need, letting the passion accumulated by stress, the distance of daily routines and pent-up emotions overflow in that fierce kiss.

Your hands run up his back, feeling the tension in his muscles still scarred from training. His fingers run down your body with the impatience of someone who has waited too long. Entangled in a whirlwind of kisses and caresses, you stagger back to the bed, still touching, still devouring each other with your gaze.

You need this as much as he does. And you know Hector will release this tension when you do too. So you let yourself be driven by need, exhaustion and desire.

When your back touches the sheets, he leans over you, leaving kisses down your neck, down your collarbone, exploring you with a mixture of tenderness and fervor. The warmth of his mouth slides across your skin, drawing sighs from you, and when he finally gets to where you want him most, the whole world disappears. The clothes quickly disappear from your bodies, you were just wearing his big old T-shirt and he was wearing his shirt and training pants with his flip-flops.

You kiss for an infinite time, while his hands make a mess of your body. He caresses your neck, your breasts, your belly, your thighs. Hector gasps at the sensation beginning to grow in his crotch as your hands scratch his big back.

The electric current ignites as Hector's mouth begins to move down your chest, first kissing your neck, biting and licking. Then your collarbones and chest and finally he leaves a trail of kisses along the center of your breasts down to your lower belly, past your navel and kissing every nook and cranny of your exposed skin.

The fabric of your panties is literally ripped from your body as you gasp at the feel of his skin rubbing against that area. Hector looks up at you from below and you stroke his cheek in acceptance. Then, his fingers begin to run through your warm, moist folds. It's kind of embarrassing to be hot so fast but Hector's power in you is superior when it comes to pleasure. He knows it. And he uses that to his advantage.

His big hands caress your thighs, his lips kiss them as his nose brushes your center and you writhe with pleasure. Hector barely touches you and you're already a mess. His mouth moves further to your center and his fingers caress your little button in a gentle touch, as your heat continues to rise.

Your hands stroke his hair, tangling them as his breath plays with your pussy. He blows a little, making you grunt, as his fingers spread your lips open to watch the wetness fall between them. You gasp needily and hear a giggle from Hector.

"Hector..." you ask in a gasp.

"Don't be impatient, baby" he scolds from below. Your head hits the mattress. "I've had to wait all day to have you"

Oh no. You're not going to wait. You can't.

"Touch me, please" you ask honeyed, using the voice you know will corrupt him.

His finger still exerts gentle pressure on your clit but not enough to make you moan. He does it to make you angry. He wants you desperate so he can devour you. And you already do.

"Can you take it, baby?" he questions and you immediately nod, shaking your head rapidly.

He uses that tone of voice that he usually uses when he is tired but excited to make you touch the sky. He'll release his tension when you do and you know what's coming, you're ready.

The pressure in your belly begins to grow as he inserts his finger into your hole but only gropes, making you moan. You stir uncomfortably, asking for more. And Hector understands right away because two of his fingers penetrate you all the way in, making room in your tight, wet pussy as the movement on your clit begins to grow.

You moan in relief but exhilarated by the new sensation. The pleasure begins to come in waves to your body making you moan desperately. His eyes focus on you, on your pussy, hot, wet for him. Hector inserts another finger and your walls receive it delightedly, preening against his fingers. A scream escapes your throat as his movements begin to hit hard and right at your peak, feeling every cell in your body exalt. Your legs spread wide as one of his hands holds you tightly and possessively, trembling under his touch.

The sensation is pleasurable, him penetrating you so focused on you, as if you were the only thing in this world. It makes you feel wanted and wanted at the same time, but this time, you take the first option. You want to feel Hector, you need Hector.

Your fingers close on his dark fibers as he continues to devour you. Now his mouth joins in, sucking on your clit as your moans begin to grow steady. His strokes are deep and hard, the pressure in your belly grows and you know it won't be long before you reach orgasm. Your back arches with a scream as the knot in your belly unties and the orgasm hits you. Waves of pleasure leave you dazed as you continue to feel Hector keep penetrating you with his fingers.

He never stops. Instead, this time it's faster, more erratic, more violent. You open your mouth to a moan of pain but pleasure at the same time, your legs ache and the over-stretching makes you gasp for air. You can barely recover from your orgasm as Hector's teeth take your clitoris and bite it, his fingers continue in an endless in and out while your erect nipples ache from the sensation.

The stress of studies, the frustration of training, the daily worries... all fade away under the slow, expert rhythm of his mouth and fingers. You let go of his hair as your hands clutch at the sheets, trying to grab something firm for yourself, you're about to fall over the ledge again and it's Hector who pushes you off. But you love him. Your breath hitches, and a feeling of utter abandon runs through your body. He knows exactly how to touch you, how to take you to the limit, how to make every second feel eternal.

He doesn't stop at any moment, his movement is somewhat brutish and your walls continue to tighten as he keeps hitting your weak spot. Your swollen lips ache but you can't stop wanting to get that feeling of new. Hector doesn't even notice as you moan in screams and your vision blurs again but this time you let it out. You let it all out.

A scream full of adrenaline, of pleasure, of ecstasy. The orgasm hits you brutally as Hector continues to penetrate you and suck your clit to the point that your center begins to burn with pleasure and the buildup in your belly seems to have an infinite point.

"Hector, please" you call out to him in a moan as your body arches.

Your whole system twists with tension. A third orgasm hits you and this time, you feel like you're going to pass out. The electric currents in your body disperse and your body trembles under his touch, it's too much. Your hands go to him and you try to push him away a little, even your legs close from over-stretching but Hector seems to be too focused and his weight falls back on your leg, opening you up for him. It's too much. You won't be able to take it again, even if you wanted to.

"Hector!" you scream with a desperate spasm reaching climax again unexpectedly.

Your body vibrates squirming as your face is disfigured with pleasure and pain, it is a different sensation that makes you feel butterflies. You barely catch your breath and calm your body from that limbo.

Hector's gaze lifts from your spot as you can barely peek out, your legs let go from his back and you fall back in surrender.

"Baby, I'm so sorry" he apologizes as you try to catch your breath. "I didn't hear the safe word, sorry" he apologizes apologetically when you can barely move.

"I didn't say it" you sigh for air with an innocent expression.

Hector comes over and helps you get settled. Your body is too sore but the feeling in your belly is incredible. You smile barely with encouragement.

"God, I'm so sorry" he apologizes kissing your cheek. "You should have done, baby. I could have hurt you" he murmurs somewhat worried and you deny taking his cheeks.

"It's okay, Hector" you say quickly. "I know you would never hurt me and we both needed to get free somehow" you try to reassure him.

His body hugs your chest, rolling you completely over. Your skins are sweaty and sticky but you don't mind at all.

"Besides not just anyone can give you four orgasms with just their mouth and fingers" you whisper somewhat sassy and he raises his head quickly to look at you.

A guilty chuckle escapes his lips and you caress your face gently as his dark eyes watch you lovingly.

In that instant, there is only the warmth of his body, the way he adores you with every movement, the connection that goes beyond the physical. It is more than desire, more than passion. It is the certainty that, no matter how exhausting the world out there is, you will always find in each other the perfect refuge.

[suyanova]

idk if you're comfortable with this topics.. but can you write about g!p Wonyoung who will dicking you up everytime and everywhere? 😩

warnings: g!p wonyoung, public sex, creampie, overstim

wonyoung having a constant, desperate need to fuck you—everywhere and every time she gets the chance, it seems her cock is hard more often than not. and it’s always because of you. 🥹 she’ll wake up in the morning pressed against your thigh and whimper softly because she’s too shy to wake you up, but also too needy to stop grinding. 💗 her hips move on their own, her cock leaking against your skin as she presses soft kisses to your shoulder and whispers “just for a second, baby…”

wonyoung is obsessed. you could be brushing your teeth and she’s behind you, palming herself through her pants and watching you in the mirror with flushed cheeks and fucked-out eyes like she hasn’t even touched you yet but is already close. 😵‍💫

she’ll take you anywhere—bent over the kitchen counter while you’re trying to cook, pressed into the mattress in the middle of folding laundry, legs around your waist in the shower, and she’ll fuck you at the worst times, too. you’re on a call with someone? she’s sliding her cock in from behind and forcing you to stay quiet. 💔

she doesn’t even need a reason anymore. she just needs you. there’s no planning. no warning. it’s like her body is addicted to yours. 😇 she cums so fast when she’s inside you that you have to hold her hips still after, whispering “already? you really can’t help yourself, huh?” and she’s just nodding, breathless, and her lips pouted softly.

she’ll fuck you in the backseat of your car, in the stairwell of your apartment, on the bathroom counter at a friend’s party, biting your shoulder to keep from moaning while her cock slides into your soaked cunt again and again and again. 😵‍💫she doesn’t care about anything else. just you.

and when she’s spent, sweaty, panting, her cock twitching weakly inside you after the fifth time of the night, she’ll look up at you with glassy eyes and say, “again? please? i’ll be good. i’ll fuck you however you want.” 🥹

because wonyoung will dick you up everywhere and anywhere—she just needs you to let her. 💗

[jesuistrestriste]

omg could we have some ellie crumbs?

i think about ellie williams all the time and i dunno but i truly feel like she’s a rlly soft/loving stone top or a sub-leaning top idk . like she loves to give her partner pleasure and she’ll get naked with them when they have sex but she’s going to wanna do most of the work (if not all)

i feel like she loves to lay you back somewhere secluded when the two of you are finishing up a patrol, sliding her hands up your shirt and gently squeezing your tits as she kisses down your stomach and sinks to the ground. she’ll pull off your pants and underwear slowly, taking her time to let out little shy chuckles and compliment you as she goes. but goddd when she finally gets her mouth on you, it’s so over. she’s gripping your thighs and holding them over her shoulders while she buries her face in your folds. licking and slurping up everything your body gives her, drinking it down like it’s liquid gold— not wasting a drop. she’s gonna suck your bud of nerves into the warmth of her lips for a few seconds before dragging her flat tongue over it till she feels it twitch.

and then her fingers will slip in once you’re wet enough to take them, her middle and ring finger curling inside you and against your special spot as she closes her eyes and whines. her brows, one scarred and one intact, pinch up and waver as she listens to the sound of your moans and lovingly strokes your shaking hip to comfort you.

i just think she’d be so attentive in her work of making you come. i could see her being switchy as a top too; sometimes whimpering when she feels you clench around her fingers and sometimes lowly purring out some praise when you start to get close.

[wosoragebaiter69]

the heart wants what it wants

alexia putellas x fem!reader

request: here & here

A/N: tried a diff writing style in this one, i think i like it better.

TW: swearing? (idk if it’s considered but i see other people doing it)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

National camp, you hated it. Nearly everything about it sucked. Keyword, nearly. It means you got to see her. The captain of Spain, and the captain of Barcelona. You know it’s probably not a good idea to fall for your ‘enemy’ but how couldn’t you? Faded pink hair, absolutely drop dead gorgeous. Who wouldn’t love that.

It would be easier if you weren’t so devoted to your own club, Real Madrid. The biggest rival of Barcelona. But that can be put aside for the little bit that comes with National camp, even if friend groups are very much seperate.

You wait as the rooms get announced. For who knows what, you get paired with Alexia. Olga sends a sly smirk to which you immediately slap her on the arm.

“Don’t you dare say a word Carmona.” Is all you say before lugging your bags and taking a keycard, heading towards the shared room.

“The bed on the window alright for you?” She asks, you nod.

You miss the way that she’s slightly nervous, and blushing. Too focused on trying to keep your own feelings at bay.

After unpacking everything, you’re laying on the bed staring at the ceiling, daydreaming which soon turns to actual dreaming when you fall asleep.

You’re woken up by a soft voice telling you that dinner is ready and to go down to everyone. It’s Alexia, you blush again looking away. Nodding before getting your shit together and moving on.

You walk down splitting from Alexia and going to sit down at a table with Olga, Ivana and Athenea.

“Don’t give me that look Olga.” You sigh as she smirks.

“I will make you do laps.” You threaten.

“You would not! I saved you a plate, look here.” She slides a plate over which you accept in thanks before turning to small talk with the girls.

Something which somehow goes unknown to everyone at your table, Alexia is watching. Receiving teasing from her own friends.

“Alexia, just ask her out already. My God it’s getting annoying of you two just blushing and staring at each other all day.” Jenni says to her friend, while they may be exes there’s still a lot of respect.

“I don’t know Jenni, she wouldn’t feel the same. We are captains of rival teams!” The dark haired spaniard rolls her eyes.

“Alexia.” This time it’s Misa. “I’m on the same team as her so let me. She says she has a crush but only Olga knows of it. And apparently it’s someone from another team. That’s all I know, but I did see Olga smirk when your rooms were read and then Y/N hit her whispering something.” She shrugs.

“If that doesn’t scream, my best friend is roomed with her crush and now she’s hitting me for pointing it out behaviour. I don’t know what is. You have until the end of camp to do this or I will ask her out for you myself.” The goalkeepers outburst surprises Alexia but she nods anyways, thinking that maybe tonight she’ll tell you. Maybe.

After dinner, and all the players are sent back to their respective rooms or to play games in the common area. You find yourself wondering around the hotel. Thinking about upcoming games and literally everything in between that.

After an hour or so of exploring different areas, finding a gym, swimming pool and jacuzzi you make your way back to the room where Alexia is pacing around.

“Penny for your thoughts?” This seems to get her out of the trance and she immediately looks up, blushing lightly. Is that a blush? You wonder.

“Lo siento, it’s nothing.” Your eyebrows light up in surprise.

“Well, if you need anything I’m right here.” She nods slowly, as if considering her options.

“Actually, there is something I’ve been meaning to ask.” She looks down nervously at her hands, fidgeting with them.

“Go ahead.” You answer lightly with a small smile.

“I was wondering… maybe you’d wanna go on a date?” Your eyes open wide, this wasn’t what you expected at all.

“Uhh, y-yeah! Sure. Like… romantic right?” You stutter as she relaxes and nods.

“Yeah, like that. Maybe when we have time to explore, the day before the game? We can find a place.” You nod.

“That sounds amazing, it should be fun.” After the conversation ends, you immediately message Olga the news. Who is… screaming in text messages.

- - - - -

Unable to keep a smile of your face for the next few days, it seems the team is doing alright given certain circumstances. Alexia does take you out on that date and it ends with a kiss that makes you feel like a high schooler experiencing their first love. Cheesy, but true nonetheless. The team hasn’t found out yet but the respective friend groups teased both you and Alexia relentlessly, which only resulted in blushing messes and stuttered words.

Sometimes, a little bit of encouragement and fate can work wonders.

[siawritez]

Yes,it's totally random and whatever idk...just whatever i wrote while hearing this song on repeat, bcz let's be real,it's one of my fav song,and it makes me feral or sane idk anymore..also i like imagine falling in love to this song,so yeah.Also wonyoung makes me crazy too,so.

You feel like a teenage cliché every time you look at her—Wonyoung, all cardigan soft and glitter gloss. She’s sitting cross-legged on the floor in your room, flipping through old yearbooks that aren’t even hers, pretending like this isn’t weird. Like it’s casual. It’s not. You keep having to remind yourself to breathe.

The glow from your fairy lights hits her cheek just right, and for a second, you forget how to speak. She looks up. You look down. Your mouth tastes like strawberry soda and heartache.

You want to find her in a crowd just to hide behind her. It’s stupid, really—like if she’s there, you can disappear, but also... maybe she’ll see you. Really see you.

“Do you remember the first time you saw me?” she asks out of nowhere, like she didn’t just shatter your bones with one question.

God, of course you remember.

She was standing in the hallway, all legs and long hair, laughing at something dumb her friend said. You weren’t supposed to be looking, but you did. You always do. She looked up and caught you, and instead of looking away, she smiled. That soft, curious smile, like maybe she already knew everything about you. Like maybe she saw right through every layer you’ve ever wrapped around yourself to feel safe.

You mumble something noncommittal, because how do you tell her she made time fold in on itself? That her gaze has been a wrinkle in your life ever since?

She laughs and leans back on her hands, casual and devastating. “You’re so weird sometimes.”

And you melt. Just like that. Like you haven’t spent a thousand hours rehearsing things to say and still fail every time she’s actually here.

Outside, her friends are playing Grand Theft Auto too loud in your living room. Inside, she’s close enough for you to see the shimmer in her eyeshadow and the curl of her lashes like little question marks. You wonder what she’s asking for.

You wonder if it’s you.

She tosses a popcorn kernel in the air and catches it in her mouth. Show-off. You giggle—too high, too fast—and instantly regret it. She grins like she’s proud of herself. You want to kiss her so bad it makes your head hurt.

“Truth, dare, spin the bottle,” she says, tilting her head at you, voice low and playful like she doesn’t even realize she’s setting you on fire.

You raise an eyebrow. “We’re not twelve.”

“No,” she agrees, “but it’d be a good excuse to kiss you.”

Silence.

Then the pounding of your heart, hot and loud in your ears.

“I mean—” she stammers, face going a little pink, “just… hypothetically.”

You say nothing. You’re afraid that if you speak, your voice will break into confessions and wanting.

She leans forward, presses her palm to yours. Her fingers slide between like they were always meant to. Her eyes are wide and impossibly sincere. “I’d pick kiss. Every time.”

You want to laugh and cry and maybe scream into your pillow, but instead, you whisper, “You already know, babe.”

She smirks like she’s just won something. Maybe she has.

Later, you’ll watch American Pie on your laptop, even though neither of you cares. Her shoulder will press into yours. She’ll laugh at all the wrong parts, and you’ll memorize every second. Like maybe, if you hold it tightly enough, it won’t slip through your fingers.

Her hand will find yours again under the blanket. You’ll pretend not to notice, and she’ll pretend not to care.

And it’ll feel so high school.

So painfully, beautifully high school.

Like you’re sixteen again and the world is ending in soft focus—pink cheeks, tangled fingers, whispered jokes that you inhale like secondhand smoke.

Like there’s a thousand versions of this moment in parallel timelines, and in all of them, she’s yours.

You hold back a sigh as the movie plays on.

Because when you look at her—just look at her—

You’re cracked wide open, a little stupid with hope.

And her?

She’s everything sweet and reckless.

The girl you’d bet all three on.

Kiss.

Marry.

Kill.

She already knows, babe.

[rhiannonsknife]

kind of projecting here but mmm rhiannon with someone who’s in a similar situation to her. feeling invisible, like nobody sees them blah blah blah. one day she sees them and she can physically feel the loneliness and makes it her mission to make them feel seen and loved. like she just gets it because she’s going through the exact same thing

idk lol just kinda been having a hard time lately and the only thing that makes me feel better is knowing that rhiannon lewis feels the exact same way 😭😭

- 🦔

i received this request and immediately got to work!! i hope you’re doing okay 🦔 anon <3

i think rhiannon generally has a tendency to notice the rather quiet people, feeling safer and drawn to those around her who are in a similar situation.

she is no stranger to being overlooked, and that’s exactly why she notices you. it’s in the way you linger at the edge of conversations, the quiet sighs you think no one hears, and the tired smile you wear when you think you’re unseen.

and because she’s made it her mission to protect people from bullies, she decides she might as well try and make you feel seen.

her first approach is subtle. rhiannon starts with small gestures: asking how your day is going, sharing a joke when no one else is paying attention. the little cracks in her aloof persona are intentional, her way of showing that she’s listening. that there is someone who cares to hear your thoughts in a conversation or wants to know how you’ve been doing lately.

this could also be the beginning of her obsession with you…she’s always finding excuses to be around you: rhiannon always seems to be where you are, but never in an overbearing way. she’ll linger near your desk, offer to grab you coffee, or just happen to “run into you” when you look like you need a break. the second she sees someone dismiss you or talk over you, she’s stepping in with a sharp quip and a fiery glare. “funny how they always seem to forget the smartest person in the room,” she says, casually sliding into the seat next to you.

her goal to make sure you never feel invisible again leads to rhiannon genuinely giving this her all. she makes a point of complimenting the things others always overlook. the way you word an email, your handwriting, or even the way your voice softens when you’re passionate about something. it doesn’t take long until she’s no longer purposefully doing it. it’s not like any of it is untrue, but in the beginning she has to try and point them out whereas, over time, it becomes a natural instinct. a habit. you walk in a room and rhiannon notices a hundred different things she would want to compliment.

it’s not often that she feels comfortable enough to connect with somebody, but it comes just as natural as the compliments with you.

rhiannon’s not the best with words, so she shows her care through actions too!! leaving a note on your desk that says, “saw this and thought of you” with a small trinket or snack attached. or remembering an offhand comment about your favorite book and showing up with a fully annotated version one day.

she’s not overly touchy either. while she craves physical touch more than anything, rhiannon obviously doesn’t want to overstep. still, the way she brushes her hand against yours or playfully nudges you feels deliberate. the first time she hugs you, rhiannon is tentative and cautious, scared to do anything wrong. that is, until you hug her back. then, rhiannon never wants to let you go again. you, on the other hand, learn that she gives her best hugs ever.

rhiannon really is the only one who makes your days bearable. whenever you doubt yourself, she’s the first to remind you of your worth. “i see you,” she says softly, her voice carrying a conviction that makes your chest ache. “you’re brilliant, and anyone who doesn’t notice that is an idiot!”

in seeing you, rhiannon gets to heal a part of herself too!! <3 the care she shows you helps her realize how much she’s been craving that same attention and affection. and slowly, the two of you become each other’s biggest supporter!! whether it’s coffee breaks, late-night drives when she offers to take you home, or even sitting in comfortable silence, it all becomes a reminder that you’re never alone anymore, that you’ve got rhiannon’s support no matter what! when you let your guard down about your struggles, she’s the one who listens like her life depends on it. she’ll shyly take your hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “i’m here,” she says softly. “i’ll always be here.”

[elsweetheart]

okay, so. the jail au.

everybody knows that i’m a good girl, officer!

of course, me and @seattlesellie were rambling abt this for like an hour straight and i just had to share some of the little thoughts we came up with because it makes my brain go brrrr ok !!

going back to my roots with girly fem reader !! reader is a lil strap tease, ellie is a loser, and abby is big and scary 🎀

♡ so you find yourself in jail. the reason behind your imprisonment is up to u ok idk !!!

♡ ellie being the corrupt officer who sneaks you in contraband bc poor girly you can’t seem to last without your ‘stupid MAC lipliner’ or rose quartz or whatever it is you have ellie sneaking in.

♡ meeting her in the storage closet for your usual rendezvous, giggling and tugging at her uniform as she swats your hands away, huffing.

♡ “seriously? do you know how hard it is to sneak this shit in? you better hide that good, ‘cus if you get caught m’not saving your ass from Abby.”

♡ abby, of course is the no nonsense prison warden.

♡ the thing about ellie, is she hardly lays down the law. she’s a fucking loser, infact the only reason she lets you get away with so much and got herself caught up in this whole contraband situation is because she quite literally couldn’t resist a pretty girl batting her lashes up at her and caved. it’s pathetic really, but you think she looks super cute under the dim lights of the storage closet, hoping the lack of lighting is enough to hide the blush across her freckled cheeks (it’s not.)

♡ with ellie being a loser, comes ellie being a perv. “gonna have to hide that real good, okay? can’t get caught.” she’s muttering, stuffing the things you’d requested from her down your bra, really getting in there to make sure it’s hidden, of course.

♡ meanwhile, you can’t seem to keep your hands off her — absolutely adoring the thrill of your dirty little secret, feeling special knowing she doesn’t do this for anyone else. she clears her throat when you kiss her on the cheek and grab at her handcuffs. “ooh, can you use these on me?” you flutter making her tsk, flustered and shooing you away despite the burning in her cunt. “those—those are for making arrests okay, shit— y’so handsy.”

♡ maybe if she’s feeling brave enough one day she’ll put you on your knees as payback and hurriedly use your face to get off. maybe. she daydreams about that a lot.

♡ anyway, she’s forever complaining about your ridiculous requests for her to sneak in— and then fulfilling your request within the next few days.

♡ “ellie, i need buttons.” she sighs. “why.” “i’m making a plushie.” the next day she has buttons in her hand.

♡ again, she’d hate for you to get caught — so she’s stuffing the plastic bag of buttons down your prison pants into your underwear before retying the string on your pants and patting over your pussy where she stuffed the bag. “keep that safe. got it? ‘told you, you don’t wanna be on the other end of abby.”

♡ but oh, you did.

♡ how you adored seeing how far you could push it with the big blonde buff prison warden. it started off as you relentlessly asking her dumb flirty questions until she was grabbing you by the cheeks, towering over you and telling you to “get back to your cell.”

♡ but you were unstoppable, always making sure to give her a show in the shower room when she’d be in there on her watch shift. you were starting to think she was trading shifts just to be in there when you were. she’d always stand by the sinks with her arms crossed and eyes narrowed, walkie-talkie on her hip only accenting her toned body. you’d be across from her, shower cubicle door open, hands sliding up and down your body — seeing how long she’d let you slide your hand between your legs and rub your clit until she’d tell you to “cut it out, you’re wasting hot water.” though, you could see the way she shifted her thighs, and her cheeks would go the cutest shade of dusty pink.

♡ abby doing your cell checks was always scary, always just narrowly missing your hiding spots where you’d shove all the things ellie brought you. “you hiding anything in here ma’am?” she’d eye you as you shake your head innocently, watching her pull your blankets up and shake them. “why do i not believe you? little minx like you, always up to something.”

♡ you nearly let a smirk slip, nearly — but instead widen your eyes until they were doe like, looking up at her as she closes in on you, trying to figure you out. “me? no, i’m a good girl. i’d never do that, abby.”

♡ you’d continue to stare up at her as she takes a long look, raking her eyes down your body before back up to your gaze. “thats officer anderson to you.” before departing, never quite giving you what you want.

♡ until, she keeps catching you with officer williams. and it makes her jealous. because obviously, you’re her little prison slut. only hers.

♡ you stand by ellie in the cafeteria for a little too long, talking to eachother under your breath and sparing side glances. abby watches, before deciding to make an example out of you and grabbing you by the scruff of the neck and dragging you back to your cell where you’re out of everyone’s vision, growling something about “stop fraternising with the officers.”

♡ she nudges you back into your cell and is in disbelief at you holding back a mischievous smile when you turn around to face her where she stands in the doorway. “you’re an officer…?” you challenge, batting your lashes. she eyes you hungrily, breathing heavily for a moment before lowly muttering an “other officers.” leaving you with a victorious smile when she storms off.

♡ and then one day she catches you, really catches you. you’re waiting for ellie in the storage closet for an exchange of goods, and when the door opens and closes, you turn around with a smile — only to come face to face with abby. poor ellie was off on prison bus duty, assigned conveniently by none other than officer anderson.

♡ “what’s going on in here, hm? what have you been up to?” her finger stroking the walkie talkie on her leg. your smile fades, caught and your brows furrow — blinking up at her waiting for some kind of punishment. “a little birdie told me you had a thing for officers sneaking in things they shouldn’t, that true?” she knocks your chin up when you look down, attempting to evade her dark gaze.

♡ “i don’t know what you’re—” “you know, everyone breaks the rules sometimes. even a warden like me.” she steps closer, backing you against the wall making you gasp lightly as something light falls off the shelf behind you. she grabs your wrist, bringing your fingers to her crotch, a hard plastic cock bulged beneath her pants. you whimper, because it feels huge. “yeah, see. i can be sneaky too. maybe you can continue keeping that slutty mouth closed, and i’ll keep my mouth shut about your little meet ups with officer williams. we got a deal?” she pushes into you more, a shelf digging into your back and covered cock pushing up against your crotch making you let out a shaky breath.

♡ “i can — i can keep a secret.” “yeah? huh. maybe i misjudged you. maybe you are a good girl.”

♡ and when you show up all weak legged, bruised and hot faced to meet with ellie the next day for your rescheduled pick up — she has a million questions, brows frowning in not so subtle jealousy and pouting.

♡ “so what, i bring you your shit for months and you just let the first warden who comes in here fuck? that shit is so unfair.” she complains, barely trying to shrug you off when you run your hands up her toned arms and rest them on her shoulders.

♡ “lemme make it up to you, show you how grateful i am, els.” she let’s you kiss her for a minute, melting a little at the way you suck on her bottom lip before pulling away and fixing her uniform after your grabby hands had skewed it. “just— take your shit and get lost. i’ll see you in the cafeteria.”

♡ but she can’t stay mad at your cute little face. especially when you’re sooo sweet to her, and let her take her anger out on you in the next closet meet up with her fingers.

[neighbourhoodspidey]

softly

senator taissa and gn reader (i noticed that even when writing for gn reader, i always end up adding feminine pronouns, i’m so sorry and i will pay attention next time, i just write in automatic but that’s a mistake i paid attention this time but please correct me if ever i made an error!)

a/n: i wrote this with a specific character in mind when i thought that taissa was more fitting. also wrote this while watching law and order and didn’t paid much attention so the structure might be a bit off? i did proofread it but there might be mistakes left behind 😔‼️feedback is always appreciated, enjoy reading letsgoooo

warnings: UMMM KISSING??? it's nothing much but i would prefer it if minors and ageless blogs stay away. idiots in love. this is different than what i usually write so idk maybe it should have stayed in the drafts otherwise than that it’s just pure fluff, gay, senator taissas being a perfectionist, reader is soooo in love and thats about it

@chaithetics IT IS HEREEE

it starts below the cut :)

Taissa’s back is hunched, eyes peered into her weeks’ schedule. She was well prepared, admittedly. But she needed to be perfect. And the more she reads her tasks, proofreads and reads it again, the more it is distorting into something completely inaccurate that she hasn’t done and would never do.

You checked in every ten minutes, whether it was to refill her coffee or offer her something to eat. She’s been at it for hours. You understand. Running for Senator is evidently demanding and needs all the serious attention and care. Even more so when your opponent is objectively an asshole and your campaign heavily relies on public opinion. You don’t doubt that Taissa can handle all the pressures. You’re just afraid she’ll end up breaking herself in the process.

You tentatively knock on the door, waiting a bit before hearing a soft “come in”

“Tai?” You peek your head in the now ajar door, all your prepared arguments now evaporated at the sight of an obviously tired future Senator.

She doesn’t answer you for a while, scribbling words in a notepad before she subtly nods her head. “Mhm?”

“I was just wondering if–.

“I don’t need anything, thank you.” She continues to scribble notes. You raise your eyebrows, biting back a chuckle.

“I’m sorry?”

“I said I don’t need anything, thank you.” She finally lifts her head to meet your eyes, offering you a brief smile.

A few minutes pass without you saying anything. And by the looks of it you’re not sure if you should insist or not.

“Not even me?” You stride towards her, placing your palms on the desk and leaning down. She lightly bats you away, shaking her head.

“You know that’s not true. And as much as I’d love to explain how much you are needed, I need to take care of this first.”

“I can’t predict what’ll happen but I know you need to have a clear mind to work it through.”

“I still need to be in shape. There’ll be photo ops, interviews, debates…I can’t relax until then.”

You stay silent for a bit, mulling over your thoughts. Taissa takes that you gave up and goes right back to her work, before you slide away from the desk and settle next to her.

“What are you doing?” She furrows her brows, a tiny smile letting you know that she’s amused and not all annoyed at your actions.

“How about we compromise?”

“What…?”

“I’ll keep you company while you work. Like that, it'll make your work bearable.”

“You’ll just distract me—”

“I promise I’ll be quiet. And if you end up getting distracted, you’re going to have to take a break.”

“You do know there is a legal term for you’re doing, right?”

You shrug, going to serve yourself a drink from the minibar before moving to sit down on the couch.

“I’m not baiting or luring you if that’s what you’re saying. Besides I know you’ll be able to work without my presence distracting you. You’re smart, good at what you do and can operate under serious pressure, deal with national press attention. You can handle me being here.”

You were comfortable, leaning back on the couch with a certain air of mischief, the same kind that secretly intensified her yearning for you.

“So, do we have a deal, Ms Turner?” You take a sip from your glass, licking your bottom lip from the remaining alcohol missing the hitch in her breath.

She playfully rolls her eyes, already guessing that she’ll win. “We have a deal.”

For the next few minutes you drink, occasionally gazing at your wife. You only get up to look for a book and for another glass. All done in silence as promised. She was subtly following your every move, appreciating that you were respecting your own end of the deal. But it was unfair that you could still make her mind drift away when you weren’t doing anything wrong. It would be so easy for her to just walk over there, sit on your lap, make you hands wrap around her waist and—

She shakes her head before allowing her mind to drift further away and indulge her. It’s just her tired nerves. Just nerves.

“Hey, can you uh…maybe get me a granola bar?”

“Hm?” You drop your book to your lap, using your index finger to mark your page.

“I…”

The more she looks at you the more she’s tempted to maybe take a breather. She slowly exhales, getting up from her seat, walking towards you in small strides before stopping in front of you.

“Tai?”

She doesn’t answer, settling down on your lap, taking the drink in your hand and downing it in one go.

“So are you taking a break or was this just an excuse to steal my glass?” You grin, voice wavering at the sudden close proximity.

“Definitely the second option.” She smirks, setting the glass aside on the coffee table. Your reactions are so endearing to her, your hands not knowing where to go, eyes not knowing where to look.

“But what about your schedule prep?”

“I can take care of that later.”

“I’m not influencing you or anything right?” You find yourself at a loss of words when she places your hands around your waist, your heart hammering.

Instead of giving you an answer she kisses your forehead, before trailing her lips to both sides of your face, the tip of your nose, your chin and finally your lips. It nearly leaves you breathless. It’s downright mesmerising how an innocent kiss can render you weak. Your fingers squeeze her hips, making her break the kiss. Her eyes are glazed, pupils so widely blown that it drowns you into an inescapable forest. You lose all control when her hands trace your chest.

You really don’t want her to stop anytime soon, but you know that you’ll end up making her lose all progress.

“Taissa…”

Your voice was raspy, making a wild heat travel all the way from her chest to her abdomen.

“I really need to get back to work.” She breathlessly whispers, her words barely even audible. She makes a move to slide away from your lap but you hold her close, not wanting to let this go as yet.

“Let me at least make you dinner before you go back. I don’t think a granola bar will be enough.”

“Do you think we stick to just dinner?”

“We can try.” You barely even nod, eyes focused on her lips and how good it would feel to kiss her again.

Your wife chuckles, pushing you back on the couch and getting up.

“You go make dinner. I’ll be in here.”

You clumsily rush out of her office with a quick wave, knowing that if you stay any further seconds you’ll change your mind.

Your wife smiles fondly, before looking over at her desk. With clearer spirits, she makes a few calls to her assistants, relaying her programme and jotting down any notes and important dates to remember, often having to refrain herself from the ghost of your touch.

But soon after that call, she makes her way into the kitchen. She couldn’t stop herself from holding you in her arms. It’s like your a healing balm to her soul.

And she feels that she’d gladly accept any escape, even if just for a moment, that you’ll offer her.

[snail-day]

Babe let me know what you think of this idea for yan satosugu because the brain worms have been at it so bad this week. Medical AU where reader who was previously healthy has gotten an illness that’s been bothering her for about a month until it becomes unbearable and she has to go to the hospital. She was putting it off because she’s got a HUGE needle phobia and general fear of hospitals and procedures etc. Now idk if you wanna make both of them doctors, we did get that panel of nurse Geto but in the satosugu dynamic I feel like it would be Gojo as the nurse. Regardless, our healthcare heathens here don’t wanna discharge their darling little patient so easily. Probably doing unnecessary treatments just to keep her sick and dependent. Ohohoh so much to play with here, the medical play, if she hasn’t been visiting doctors regularly how would she be able to discern what is a red flag in their treatment especially when the doctor with the silver tongue explains it all so rationally you ought to trust him right? They have constant access to any medicine, the perfect tactics of isolating her if they put her in quarantine. Reader stressing because if she takes too much sick leave she’ll be fired from her job not to mention all the medical debt, my, my it’s so over. It would be really cool to have a reader who is absolutely a fighter I’m talking biting, scratching, screaming, thrashing, clawing kicking. She’s not going down without being knocked out and even after she wakes up she’s at it again. Literally doing anything to stop her phobias and fears from happening just to be free. In a lot of works reader is often paralyzed with fear which isn’t bad but I so badly wanna see a fighter (maybe bc when I read I’m like “pshh I wouldn’t let that slide” lolll ) and how she slowly breaks or breaks free your choice. Because of your background in chemistry and I’m assuming biology too because I bet you had to take some courses in order to complete the major, you’re the perfect person to request this to!!!! Ever since I read You Just Can’t Play God I was ascending. Your writing is so expressive and emotional like I’m really going through it here and it’s so addictivly tragic every time. And I could tell that you but your background knowledge into that fic and it deserves MORE LOVE so I’m giving it to you 💖💖💖thinking of this always. Wahhhh I go crazy for science fiction and medical horror and a yandere doctor is such bad news let alone two!!!! I kinda feel bad for making such a lengthy request and especially since you mentioned about wanting to post some more wholesome satosugu content and I come in with this🤡. Alas I am (with your consent) open mouth smooching you, warmly embracing you, feeding you yummy snacks and tucking you into bed. Ok that’s enough yapping out of me I got to go to bed. Good night!!!

- With much adoration 💖 anon

💖 Anon, we are definitely making out right now—especially after you just fed me that delicious FIC IDEA.

Holy fuck, do I love a good medical AU. (The gloves? They do things to my brain. The power play? Chef’s kiss.)

What are you gonna do? Say no to a medical professional?

I totally agree—Geto would absolutely be the silver-tongued doctor, while Gojo would thrive in a cute little nurse outfit. I can already picture them doing home visits. They have your address (and everything else about you). Small-town beloved doctors? No one suspects a thing.

I will be gratefully taking this request. I’m nearly done with a fic for this weekend, so I’ll be starting on it soon. :)

I need to go to bed too, but you’ve got my brain worms munching.

I love you, 💖 anon. Thank you for your wonderful words—I hope you have the sweetest, fluffiest dreams.

[peachie-bumblebee]

hi love!! i was obsessed with ur sb nsfw hcs and recently ive had a bit of a fixation on roxy. ik you included her in ur og hc thjng but maybe you could expand on that with more hcs or smth?? whatever you do itd be much appreciated !! thank you sm and make sure to take necessary breaks <33

hi love!!!! i also ADORE Roxanne Wolf and I’d be totally happy to do extended headcanons for you and anyone else who wants them <3

NSFW HEADCANONS WITH ROXANNE WOLF- EXTENDED

NSFW MINORS DNI

she’s so hOT i’m literally salivating

CW: GENERAL KINK

her nipples are PIERCED! no i’m not just saying that cuz mine are and i didn’t go into enough detail last time. they are pierced with barbell jewelry. its so sexy. i’m so correct.

she likes having them played with

she’s so intense, but not in the way monty is. something about her just instantly gets you submissive and she doesn’t even have to try.

like she can just make you melt by wrapping one nail around your chin

…i know she puts her tongue in a pussy AHGDIDGHDIDHCHD

if you’re amab prepare to get the whole shaft licked HSGDJDSG

i’m actually medically needing her its not even funny

she rides FACE she will sit on her partners face and RIIIIIDEEEEEEE

SHE PLAYS THE KEYBOARD. If Chicas fingers are strong, Roxy’s are flexible.

GODDD i know she slides them in and out so painfully slow.

she makes so much casual fun of her partners during sex. “like oh? this it all it takes to do it for you? god.”

she is also FANTASTIC with the strap. hard and lightning fast thrusts up against the wall.

yet she can also make it brutally, brutally slow.

also likes her strap being sucked. she’ll sit on her little chair and have you keep her strap warm with your throat while she lazily practices keyboard or does her makeup.

she’s randomly thrust a little.

if she’s busy and her partner is needy, she’ll literally just cockwarm them

she likes to be worshipped. she just does. it gets her going. she loves to be craved.

she’s a clit/dick head pincher. dooooont caaaare.

the type to say “that’s right” when you do something she likes

i don’t see her using things like floggers like chica does but she DOES use her claws if that’s something her partner would also want.

she’s careful. she has a shocking amount of restraint.

no matter how much you beg, it doesn’t really faze her on the surface at all.

….aphrodisiac fic anyone?

she tastes like caramel IDK WHY I JUST FEEL IT IN MY PUSSY OKAY

she s p r e a d s. her partners legs during sex. literally has them splayed open so the both of you can watch it go in IM S(CREAMING)

she wants so badly to bite her partners during sex but she holds herself back cuz she knows it could go super wrong

when Chica and Roxy fuck, sometimes Chica will let her a little.

yk how people are like “oh nobody scissors in real life” guess what, i do! and i think she would be very good at it too.

…this is making me seem like a Roxy kinnie- i don’t have the confidence for that

doesn’t tolerate brattiness very well. she can handle it to a certain extent, but after a certain point she’s just like “fine. if you know so much better than me than I guess I don’t need to do anything.”

gives pussyjobs like a pro.

she’s very good at keeping the right angle for it, and sometimes she’ll make her partner cum all over their chest just like that

she groans n shit when she gets close FUCK

GOOOOOOOD

[euijoosorangeslice]

I have thoughts about the hyung line :

• Fuma and K tend to be boy's dads

• Euijoo and Nicholas are more inclined towards girl's dad

I completely agree with this take actually.

warnings: suggestive, a lot of pet names, idk what to label this as fluff?

• (child age 7) kei coming to his sons football meet to cheer for him, hugging his son and lifting him in the air. “Great game! You are gonna be big someday, little guy!” Your son would laugh loudly as kei held him upside down by his legs. Kei would place him back on the ground, his son scrambling to grab his things to go home.

You buried your head into Kei’s arm, smiling like a plastic doll. “What’s got you so giddy?” He’d ask, running his fingers through your hair. “Just my two boys in the same space. I can’t believe he really has your eyes.” Kei reached down, sliding his hand over your butt. “I mean, maybe we could have one that has yours?”

• (child age 2) “Papa! Give me uppies!” His son would cry, Fuma working over the stove to make lunch for his family. “I- oh hold on baby, Papa really needs to finish lunch before mommy gets up.” His son would wail even louder, and Fuma would have no choice but to pick him up and attach him to his hip.

“It’s okay, my love. Papa’s here.” You stumbled into the kitchen, leaning against the counter in your robe with your messed up hair. “Ugh, I slept in again.” You’d whine, Fuma smiling at your messed up state. “Good morning, beautiful. It’s probably hard to not sleep in when your legs are still sore from your…anniversary gift last night. Anyway, sandwiches are in the menu, darling. Made a side of beans since you were craving them.”

“Speaking of cravings, I took another test. Guess who’s eating for two?” You giggled kissing his cheek. “The same girl who has morning breath.” You delivered a hard punch to his stomach, making him shout. “Fuck your sandwiches.” You grumbled, walking to the bathroom.

• (child age 16) Your daughter ran excitedly into the living room, holding her phone. “Mom, can I go to a party tonight? Before you ask, yes there will be boys, but I don’t like any of them! And I’ve been taking my birth control anyways. I’m not going to get pregnant.” You smiled at how hastily your daughter pleaded her case. “Ask your father.” Your husband interjected, “No way. Boys are animals, and I don’t want you getting caught up in trouble.”

“Dad! I promise I won’t get into trouble! You know I’m smarter than that.” She pleaded, but Euijoo shook his head. “There’s no way I’m letting it happen. Unless, you can promise me there will be nothing more than kissing, no touching below the belt, and you don’t take any drugs. Drink responsibly and you better be back by 11:30 on the dot.” Your daughter sighed, subtly rolling her eyes. “Fine, ok whatever! I won’t do any of that stuff, thank you.” She ran back upstairs to get changed, making you giggle.

Euijoo leaned into your touch as you brushed your fingers through his hair. “I just don’t want her getting hurt. I was a teen boy once, and you know how that went.” You kissed his cheek, holding his hand. “You have to be a little lenient. We raised a smart one, she can fend for herself. Trust her. Now, she’ll be gone all night and we can have some time to ourselves.” You smiled, kissing his collar. “We could do it right on the couch.”

•(child age 13) just imagining nicho being proud of his little girl playing in something like a basketball competition, (he’d love if she did a sport that he likes) and he’d turn to you and smirk. “We made such a beautiful baby girl. Maybe we should make another when we get home?” He hinted, making you roll your eyes.

“No. We are going to take our daughter down to her favorite place for dinner, and when we get home we are going straight to bed.” You instructed, making Nico smile. “I’d go straight to bed with you any night, angel.” You rolled your eyes again, standing up. “Want anything from the concession stand?”