#and then of course when all the ice cubes are inside me

[feral-and-or-horny]

Thinking about breaking in your new personal room which you're so excited about, by cornering you and fucking you 💖❤ Stripping you naked and enjoying the feel of thrusting deep between your legs as you get shocked and overwhelmed. Then I push you back onto your bed, hard, tell you quietly "get up before I get back and you'll fucking regret it," and I leave the room. From where you're lying you can just hear me say hi to your roommate in passing, exchange a few words that sound happy and innocent. And soon after I walk back into your room, holding a tray of ice cubes. Telling you "keep laying there beautiful. You're going to have some fun for me to watch."

I can't decide what I like more, the idea of you watching me tease and fill myself with the ice, or you doing it yourself.

On the one hand, it would be deliciously humiliating to take the ice cubes one at a time, shaking as you casually push my legs apart, and begin tracing them around my clit before pushing them inside, all while you watch hungrily, paying no mind to me as a person, just a pretty little cunt to tease and play with.

But on the other hand, I love the idea of you taking all that control from me, just sitting between my legs as you torturously play with and tease me, tracing the ice down from my lips, over my nipples, and lower still until you hold it against my clit, ordering me to hold still when I start to squirm, watching it melt and admiring how my legs tremble. And of course you get to have all the fun of pushing them into my pussy, forcing them deep inside and making sure I feel your fingers flexing inside me.

[zriasstuff]

Slytherin boys x reader (kinky shit vol.1)

lowk embarrassed because this is from my shortlived unhinged wattpad era, but here you go (i didn’t want this to just rot away in my google docs drafts), vol.2 in case you’re interested

Warnings: overstimulation kink, sexual content, no plot, mdni, yk the drill, not proof read

Mattheo Riddle:

He enjoys it so much when you continue to suck him after he just came down your throat. His tip is always hypersensitive, and he turns into a groaning and swearing mess when you swirl your tongue around it. Although he tries to control it, the occasional whimper slips through too. The feeling of pain and pleasure combined makes his swollen dick twitch in your mouth and come extremely quickly.

“Fuck princess, only you can make me feel like this”

Tom Riddle:

He will almost always tie you up, either to the headboard, or arms behind your back. After he comes inside you, he knows that you’re still sensitive.

Since he himself is too, he’ll shove three fingers in you and watch as you squirm and whimper from the overwhelming sensation. Your insides are barely able to handle the immediate penetration and start to feel like they’re twisting. He’ll either tell you to beg for release or for him to stop. “Use your words, doll”/“You’re such a fucking slut for me, you deserve whatever I do to you”/“Beg for it you desperate slut”

You always come a minimum of three times, and he will make sure that you can barely walk afterwards. The control that he has over you just turns him on all the more.

Theodore Nott:

After you finish, he’ll tell you to finger yourself and to come once more. He enjoys having the power over you and you being obedient. Of course you do what he wants, painfully so and during it, he’ll control your speed and the amount of fingers. “Good girl, doing whatever I tell her to”/“Such a good girl for me”/“Come on, I know you can do it”

You also love all the praise, so you always make sure to put on a show for him.

After the pleasurable torture you put yourself through, he always gives you sweet aftercare.

Blaise Zabini:

He especially loves it when you ride him. Normally he wants both of you to come at the same time, but sometimes he tells you to control yourself a little after he came already. Then, after he came, he’ll tell you to keep going at his own expense, and watches you as you use him for your own pleasure. Every time you clench around him a moan slips out as he goes completely insane from the overstimulation on his already exhausted cock. It makes him feel incredibly turned on, to be at your mercy and to be used. Yes princess, use me all you want”/“All this is yours”/“Fuck you look hot on top of me”

Enzo Berkshire:

Overstimulation is one of his biggest kinks, so any way, shape or form of it is always extremely welcome. You make sure to do it to the point where he is completely out of breath and can only whimper under your control. After doing it, you sometimes wrap your hand around him and jerk him to come once more. At that point he’s already a moaning mess and his dick is consistently red and leaking. “Please can I cum?”/“You make me feel so good”

Instead of your hand, you also use your mouth sometimes. You deepthroat him for maximum pleasure and you feel his hips bucking and begging for renewed release.

Draco Malfoy:

For him it involves a bit of temp play too, but after both of you finish he’ll get a few ice cubes to drag out your post-orgasm pleasure. He’ll slowly drag them along your hardened nipples, all the way to your clit, holding the cube in place there. The sudden change in temperature always brings out uncontrollably loud moans from you and makes you squirm around. As soon as you move too much, he’ll shove one cube inside you, which causes you to melt into a whimpering mess. “Bad girls need to be punished”/“You look so pathetic, barely being able to stay still”

[ddejavvu]

'oh, you LOVE me!' - send me a request for a baby blurb! give me a character, and a plotline, and i'll write you a little fanfiction :)

The thought of Hotch going to Penelope’s office knowing reader is most likely there to walk into Penelope fully piercing readers ears and everyone involved is just like 😶 while reader is like “oh.. hey! 😁” LMAO

join my 20K celebration!

'oh, you LOVE me!' - send me a request for a baby blurb! give me a character, and a plotline, and i'll write you a little fanfiction :)

--

If you're not in Aaron's office, which you're not at the moment, there's a very good chance you're in Penelope's lair. You hang out with the bubbly blonde more than he does, and he works with her. So when he starts getting hungry for lunch and wonders if you'll tag along, his feet take him to Garcia's doorway.

He hears your chatter before he sees you, so he has no hesitation in twisting the knob to find you inside. Maybe he should have knocked, though, because it might have given Penelope some time to put her needle away.

Penelope has blue gloves stretched over her hands, an ice cube melting away on her desk, and a needle through your ear. He's sure if anyone in the office is qualified to give out makeshift ear piercings it's her, but it is a concerning sight to walk in on.

Penelope stiffens at the sight of her boss in the doorway. She knows he has a soft spot for her, hell, everyone does, but she's not sure that extends all the way to poking holes in his girlfriend with a needle.

"-but of course I walked into the room and found them right away- Aaron!" You turn at the sound of the door creaking open, as well as the uncomfortably stiff grip Penelope now has on your ear. Aaron stares at you with an unreadable expression, but Penelope's is much more clear; terror.

"Penny was giving me an ear piercing," You explain, though it's not a very helpful one.

"I see that." Aaron's brow furrows almost imperceptibly, "Why?"

"Because... I wanted one?" You seem legitimately confused, like you can't understand his apprehension.

"It's a sterilized needle, sir," Penelope pipes up, gently sliding it out of your earlobe, "And- and I washed my hands before, and the gloves are fresh, and she's totally numb so she doesn't feel a thing, so-"

"Alright." Aaron nods, "Alright, Penelope, I'm not upset. But we should keep an eye on it, honey," He gives you a look that's fonder this time, laced with concern, "Just in case it gets infected."

"Okay!" You nod, ear now properly pierced as Penelope slides a stud into the hole, "And- uh, I saw a pair of earrings I really like, Aaron."

You grin sheepishly at him; that's his cue. Penelope bites back a smile of her own, turning away to let it explode in full force while also keeping her job.

Aaron heaves a sigh, not in annoyance but amusement, nodding as he backs out of Penelope's lair, "Send me the link, and be ready for lunch in ten, sweetheart."

[sxcret-garden]

ღ Ateez Yunho x gn!reader ღ words: ~1k ღ genre: smut (sub!Yunho, he's blindfolded, temperature play (ice cubes), nipple play, oral, handjob, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (all idol receiving), dacryphilia) ღ reader: no description of reader’s anatomy, no pronouns used to refer to reader ღ warnings: none ღ prompt: “I can’t get enough of you.”

Author’s note: Idkkkk I just love the concept of letting service dom!Yunho lean back while you take care of him and repay him for all the times he’s done the same for you,,, and subsequently having him become a moaning, shaking mess underneath you,,,,,,,

Your boyfriend lets out a breathy moan at the cold sensation of the ice cube against his skin. Holding it between your lips, you drag it from his sternum all the way up to his throat, making him throw back his head instinctively to give you access, and then once you lift it off his skin, he lets out a shaky sigh. You cup his face with one hand, thumb brushing against his cheek and the silky fabric of the blindfold, placing the ice into your other hand, before you lean in for a kiss. His lips feel hot against yours for a moment, until you’ve adjusted to the temperature difference, and while you kiss him at an unhurried pace you don’t hesitate to part his lips with your tongue to lead him into an open mouthed kiss. He lets you take control as his hands find your hips on top of him, loosely holding onto them.

“I’ll take care of you today,” you mutter once you part. It’s been a while since you’ve last done this, switched roles, made him sprawl out on the bed for you to have your way with him - but oh, how you missed this. Of course you like it when he’s in control, doing everything in his might to make you feel nothing short of amazing. But sometimes the urge to give all of that back overcomes you, and in times like these you always find yourself baffled at how much more badly you could need him.

You roll your hips on top of him once, a teasing gesture, and yet - the deprivation of one of his senses heightens all others, and you don’t fail to draw another of those pretty moans from his lips.

“Shit, Yun… I can’t get enough of you.” It’s merely a whisper as you lean back in, pressing another impatient kiss against the corner of his mouth, and then you take the ice cube between your lips again, letting a drop of the cold water fall onto his chest. Mesmerized by the goose bumps forming on his skin and his nipples hardening without you needing to touch them, you eventually lean back in to take one of them into your mouth. The mixture of the cold ice and your hot tongue swirling around the sensitive bud has him arching his back underneath him, and the way he reacts so strongly has you moaning while you continue your ministrations. You move on eventually, scattering ice cold kisses down his stomach, leaving the remainder of the ice cube behind on his navel for it to melt there. Your hand finds Yunho’s cock, grown to its full size now, and you find yourself amused by how affected he is once again. Starting to give him a few slow strokes, you lick up the droplets of water running down his skin, and then you position yourself in between his thighs, aching to please him even more.

“You good, baby?” you ask, running your nails down the inside of his thigh, your lips hovering just above his tip.

“Y-yeah,” he gives you a strained answer, desperation in his voice and you grin to yourself.

“Gonna make you feel even better…” you say, before you press a kiss to his head and even at such a tiny gesture you can feel him shiver underneath you. “Fuck, you’re so sensitive, Yun…” Very slowly, you lick a stripe up the underside of his cock, and when you finally reach the tip, you wrap your lips around it. Your boyfriend lets you hear a whine, one that you assume wasn’t supposed to slip out, as he immediately presses his lips tightly together, but you can’t help but want more of it. “Let me hear you, baby,” you say. “Sounds so pretty…” And as soon as you take him into your mouth, sinking down on him as you hollow your cheeks until you have as much of him inside of you as you can take, yet another of those sinful whines bursts out of him. His breathing heavy and his thighs attempting to close around your frame, he moans at your touches. You go at exactly the pace you know he likes the most, doing all the things that will be sure to drive him crazy in no time, and when you begin to moan in tune with him, a curse escapes him.

“Shit, Y/N… g-gonna cum…” His fingers grappling at the bedsheets until his knuckles turn white, you keep your pace steady, until finally you can feel his warm seed spilling into your mouth and you swallow without hesitation. Leaving not a drop of his cum behind, you sit up eventually, and before he can fully come down from his high, you continue stroking him until you can feel him getting hard again. “Sh-shit…” Yunho tries to hold back any more of those desperate whines as he bites his bottom lip, but it’s no use. You watch your boyfriend squirming underneath you, sometimes instinctively bucking his hips into your hand while he mewls at the overstimulation. His ears bright red and his muscles working underneath the skin in futile attempts to balance out the overwhelm - and still he doesn’t tell you to stop. Instead, there’s soon broken moans falling from his lips, your hand that’s moving up and down his pulsating cock picking up in speed, and the way he cries out as he cums again could’ve sent you over the edge as well.

“You did so well, baby,” you coo at him once you finally let him rest, hovering above him as you leave a trail of soothing kisses up his chest, and when you take off his blindfold, you can see the tears in the corner of his eyes. Running your fingers through his hair, you press a kiss to his temple, to his nose, and finally to his lips. “So, so well.”

[writingoddess1125]

saw ur request is finally open dlsksksks i hope modern au is your jam 🤞🏻

I would love to get your thought on buggy, shanks, and minawk reacting to reader accidentally sending them a nude pic 🤧

Oh I love you RN ���️

Okay so did I go overboard? Absolutely Do I care? HELL NO!

You Accidently Send them a Nude Pic!

Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk

SPICY THEMES! ❤️‍🔥

You are gonna need some Ice cubes 🧊 after this one ;D

If you like please Support me on Ko-Fi

Buggy

"For fucks sake" You grumbled as you looked through google- You needed a specific pose for this commission, it was an expensive NSFW one and yet you could not find the right pose and for some reason couldn't figure it from memory-

"Fuck it time to go old school-" You grumbled, Peeling off your clothes and walking to the bedroom were your mirror was, Setting up you snapped a few pictures in the pose needed.

Looking at the few shots you couldn't help but pat yourself on the back. You looked good and got the pose perfectly- Dressing back you went back to your computer.

You kept your phone gallery opened to look at the photo, embarrassed you had to go to such lengths to do so- But money was money.

As you continued your sketch you saw a message ding and smiled- It was non other then Buggy, your close friend and truthfully your partner in crime.

Buggy Boo 🤡: U busy?

Me: Yeah I'm trying to find some references, but what's up?

Buggy Boo 🤡: NVM wanted to hang out

You smiled at this.

Me: You can still but at a price 😌

Buggy Boo 🤡: Price? 💰

Giggling you open up your text gallery. You scroll through the photos to find the McDonald's meme youd saved earlier and quickly sent it-

Me: Gotta Bring Me The Mickey D's 😩 💦

However you saw two images loading to be sent with the text. Raising a brow as you waited for it to load- However when it sent and showed you the second image you threw your device across the room.. there just below the McDonald's Meme was your nude reference photo.. You tried to panic unsend but saw he read it instantly.

Fuck FUCK FUCK!!!

Expecting a call or a WTF text of some sort but .

Silence- You didn't see him text back or anything. Fear eating you up inside as you thought the worse.. He's going to fucking hate you now- you two had just been really really good friends for years and maybe had a few drunken nights together however nothing like this!

In your panic you didn't realize how much time had passed before a knock snapped you from your thoughts.

You heard frantic knocks in your front door, surprised by the urgency of them and walked over- Opening the door your face flushed with what you saw. There was Buggy, with a shirt barely and clearly backwards, his hair down in thick waves looking wet and barely holding up his pants like he had gotten into clothes on the way to you however the 4 massive bag of McDonald's in his hand clued you in he had stopped at the restaurant right before.

"Buggy?-" You say shyly and face cherry red at seeing him in such a disheveled state- that and his boxers didn't exactly hiding him very well.

"I came over as fast as I could- I also got everything on the menu-" He said breathlessly holding up the bag and you glance to see his car parked sideways in your driveway, words seemed to leave you as you could practically see the desire in his gaze as he grinned widely.

He stepped forward and gently pushed you back into the house closing your door behind him as he quickly closed the space between you two, handing you the bag whicj you could barely hold onto.

"Gotta say, that was a welcomed surprised from you. I loved it~" He purred out, You squeaking in surprise at his words as his hands found their way to your hips.

"I have some modeling I'd like to see you do~ For art purposes of course" He said with a wink.

"Y-You actually liked those?" You manage out- Buggy laughed at this.

"Of course! It was sexy, flashy, surprising all at once. Not gonna lie if it wasn't for me needing to get the McDonald's I'd have came straight here and fucked you into the floor" He growled out in desire. You decided to not tell him you were joking about the McDonald's thing.

"In that case-" You sent the bag to the side and smiled as you felt him practically waiting for you to give the OK.

"Food can wait~"

Shanks

So bored- You thought as you laid on the couch of your boyfriends apartment. Shanks, The famed biker gang leader in your state. It was famous for his skills, the brutality of his gang and the unfortunate missing arm from a accident to save a child.

However for you he was just the love of your life- and also the one who had left 3 hours ago to do some sort of meet up with his gang which always ment leaving you behind-

Deciding to text him you open your phone to snapchat seeing he was still at the bar and sent a message.

Me: Red I'm Bored 😴

Red Head: I know Babe but I'll be home soon.

Me: It's been 3 hours 🙃

Red Head: Almost done here. I'll Bring you flowers if you're good.

You rolled your eyes- Flowers if your Good hm? You stewed for a moment before jumping up and marching to the bathroom. Maybe it was boredom or sexual frustration but you figured some teasing was in order- Deciding to take off your bottoms you poses in the mirror and snapped a quick picture. Smiling as you loaded it to send

Me: Good like this? {Image}

Prepared to hit send you stopped yourself and sgiggled... This was so stupid. Why would you do this? Rational thought clearing your heated mind and you tossed the phone on the couch to stop yourself.

"Just watch TV Jesus-" You said to yourself and plopped down. Turing in the TV but heard your phone rapidly ding, raising a brow you picked it back up and your face fell- It had sent dear God it had sent. It seemed when you tossed it the screen pressed sent by accdient.

Red Head: I'll be damned-

Red Head: Holy Shit did you just take this now?

Red Head: Baby?

Red Head: I'll be over in 10 minutes..

You saw Shanks text and you felt your face grow hot. This was not how you wanted it to happen but you weren't mad either-

In 8 minutes you heard a knock on the door and you quickly rushed over to open it. Assuming his hand was full-

He smiled at you, Holding the flowers in hand which had somehow survived his speedy ride to you.

"As promised flowers" He said with a grin and you stepped back so he could enter fully and took the flowers that were handed to you.

"Thank you" You say shyly but can't meet his gaze.

"You just love giving me a heart attack hm Love?" He purred out grabbing your chin gently to look up at him.

"I had to put away my phone so quickly cause I was at the bar with the gang" He said with a chuckle as you held the flowers close to your chest.

He leaned forward releasing your chin and began to kiss your check- His body pressing into you and you felt dizzy and warm.

"I-It was an accident" You Squeak out as Shanks layered kisses down your neck- His hand pulling you by your waist as he pulled you closer, your hand setting the flowers to whatever was closest to you as you felt warmth flutter through your body.

"Really?~ Didn't seem like one to me. As yoj said you were bored~" He said softly, you hadn't realized it but he had worked you two backwards till you felt the couch hit the back of your legs and you fell with a surprised yelp. Shanks smiling at this as he pulled away his leather jacket.

"Well let's make sure I don't leave you bored again~" He winked and lowered himself right after you.

Seems you were about to have the ride of your life~

Mihawk

You kicked off your heels with a sigh as you finally made it back to your home. Flopping on the couch with a groan- be a lawyer they said, You'll make a lot of money they said- BULLSHIT!

You were overworked, under paid and under laid- it was brutal honestly but you did like your work to some degree and you got to meet interesting people.

You hear a ding from your phone and sigh, already prepared for some client to email- But instead you were met with a text Ling saying your photos were ready.

Photos?... OH The Nude Boudoir Photos of yourself! Jumping up you quickly press the downloadable link and open it up quickly.

It had been a gift for yourself, when your confidence had been down and wanted something to make you feel beautiful and sexy. Opening up the downloaded folder you smiled, it was a bit weird to admire pictures of yourself but the photographer had done such a great job!

However you were cut off when another email rolled in- Sighing heavily as you saw it was non other then you poss and CEO of the firm Mihawk Dracule. The man was a sticklier about everything and he was just lucky he was hot or else you would have slammed a folder in his face by now-

Mihawk D: (Y/N) I need the file for Eros vs Tuller Case. Seems file did not send correctly.

You sigh, that wasn't hard and you'd already downloaded it on your phone. Attaching the document from you phone quickly you sent it-

So lucky!-

There it had been the last thing you...downloaded- wait... it hadn't been the last thing you downloaded.

Dread filled your chest as you slowly opened up your phone once again and clicked the downloaded tap- Seeing two downloaded files, slowly opening the file you sent Mihawk only to see your naked body...

You stared at your phone and screamed- Bloody. Murder

'NO NO NO NO-!!' You panicked as you literally through your phone across the livingroom.

"I'm so so fired I just sent my boss my naked photos!" You sobbed as you fell to the floor, your face as red as a tomato and you damn near cried. You hear another ding and crawl to your cracked device and took a look.

Mihawk D: Come to my office tommorow morning early. We have things to discuss.

You were dead- So very very dead... You cried that night and shot out your resume to several firms and waited for the next morning.

On cue you arrived to the firm brighf and early, having to psych yourself up before going in. You walked in to the building and up to the executive office- you half expected to see a box and a pink slip waiting for you- your head low as you stepped into your bosses office.

"Sir?.." You say softly, looking up you saw Mihawk sitting there looking through some papers- Your eyes focusing on what he was so interested in and you damn near had a heart attack. Seeing professional prints of your boudoir images on his desk and he was looking through them calmly, He glanced up at you finally seeing your wide eyes and flushed face he pointed you over to him calmly.

Slowly stepping forward you stood next to him behind the desk- Seeing the expensive professional prints of your intimate photos sprawled out.

"A-Am I fired?.." You finally asked, Your voice no better then a shaky whisper.

"No. I quite like these infact- I've had many people in my company who have tried to flirt, I was even curious when youd act.. But ive never seen one as bold as this" He said clearly amused, the humiliation burned in your chest- especially since he knew you had a crush on him.. but now you were curious why he didn't want to fire you.

He flicked back to one of the photos, one were you had worn something akin to a playbunny outfit made of lace. He tapped the imagine a bit playfully.

"I must say, This is by far my favorite out of the lot... I'd like to make a proposal to you" He said, craning his head to meet your eyes as a smirk played on his lips.

You felt your brain turn to mush.. first that he liked them and second that Mihawk Dracule was smiling- Had you died?!

"A date if you will, But I'd like to explore your skills in your modeling afterwards. Back at my home. If you're more comfortable with a written contract that is fine with me, but verbal is just as good" He stated calmly, Heat flushing your form at his words and you skittishly nodded.

"What would be the terms of this contract?" You ask shyly, Now more interested then you thought it would be. Mihawk reaching into his caot and pulled out a satin case, opening it to reveal a beautiful necklace, it was very classy looking and could truthfully be worn with anything- but you realized it was a infinity choker with a key lock in the back.

Warmth hitting your body once again asnyou realized what this represented.. A collar.

"Dates, a more personal relationship and some.. let's say recreations of these works?" He said calmly still holding his favorite one.

You thought for a moment, before running your fingers over the necklace and nodding softly.

"I agree to those terms" You say a bit playfully, Earning a smile from Mihawk. He stood up calmly and picked up the necklace, moving behind you as he carefully clasped it and locked it into place.

"Wonderful" He practically purred out and admired you for a moment. Head flooding your body once more at his golden gaze.

"I will pick you up tonight then, 8 sound good?" He asked, you agreeing and he patted your behind playfully.

"Good. Now Run along now Bunny, I still need the file for the Eros vs Tuller Case" He said amused, You nodding quickly.

"Yes Mr. Dracule" You say softly and as you stepped out a blush on your cheeks and a smile on your lips.

That went better then expected~

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Melted

Pairing: Fierce Deity x Reader

Warning(s): smut :))

Notes: Writing this in honor of the 105 degree heat I had to endure a week ago. Also Fierce might be a bit OOC but I want my sexy daddy rn

Masterlist

It was so damn hot.

Blistering heat swept across your skin, practically glowing from the thin layer of sweat, and you sat on the porch and considered your life choices. It was just your luck that your AC decided to die on you in the dead of summer, which is why you were outside in some booty shorts and a bikini top, hair up and popsicle practically down your throat.

"Jewel?" A voice rumbled from the depths of your home, and the Fierce Deity stepped onto the porch, the wood creaking under his impressive bulk. He stopped short as soon as he caught sight of you, eyes wide with some unidentifiable emotion that you were positive had to do something with your current state of (un)dress. Not that you were particularly impressed when you caught sight of his fashion choices.

"Okay, I know you're a god, but how can you wear that," you gestured incredulously to the full set of armor he was sporting. "Why can't you melt like the rest of us?"

The deity gave a short laugh, moving to sit beside you. "I was not aware you would prefer that, though perhaps I can offer an..." his tone deepened. "alternative."

You raised an eyebrow and delivered a sharp, slurp-y suck to your popsicle. There was no way in hell you were going to fuck in this heat, not when you were positive a warm breeze would send you into cardiac arrest. "Nice try, but I fancy my life."

For a second, you could have sworn his expression turned pouty, but it was quickly replaced with a small grin. It was rare to see him so... carefree (even if he was hinting to having sex on the hottest fucking day of the year), and you almost felt inclined to humor him. Almost.

"Of course, but I have taken the liberty of exploring your territory," back was the feral glint in his pupil-less eyes. "are you aware of the springs on the eastern border?"

Aside from the fact that he talked like everything was a military campaign, he did have a point. The only problem was that the neighboring children didn't consider your 'territory' as private as he did, and you had no doubt they were there now. "Thanks, but I don't feel like exposing myself to a bunch of children," you snarked, finishing off your popsicle with one last hearty slurp, blind to how the deity's eyes immediately snapped to watch the spectacle with rapt attention. "Now, we could fill my bathtub with ice cubes, but I doubt you'll fit."

"Inconceivable," was Fierce's deadpan response, and you wondered if letting him watch The Princess Bride was a bad idea.

"Exactly," you flicked the wooden stick into the trashcan and wobbled to your feet. "Welp, I'm going to get naked and hope my skin peels off so I can be cool."

It was almost funny how alarmed he looked at your statement. "You will do nothing of the sort, my vow—"

"It's a joke, it's a joke!" you interjected before he could go all guard dog on you. "The heat's not doing any favors to either of us right now."

A hand sealed itself over your wrist, preventing you from stumbling inside like you hoped. You raised your eyebrow at the deity currently holding you captive, waiting to see if he would explain himself or if it was time for you break out the mom(tm) voice again.

"You need not worry about the children, they would not dare disturb you in my presence."

Of course he had threatened the children. It was to be expected that, whether intentional or not, the Fierce Deity was an imposing figure, and you had no doubt that it had taken nary a cold glance to send those poor kids running for the hills. You pinched your temples with your free hand at the very thought of another encounter with the HOA on the basis of the seven foot deity stalking your land at night. "Oh my god, please tell me you didn't chase them out."

"I did not have to," intoned the deity, as if that made it any better. "They left as soon as the leader caught sight of me."

And by 'left', you just knew he meant 'ran screaming for the hills'. "Fierce..."

"That is my name."

You deadpanned. "No shit, Sherlock."

"That is... not my name."

You were done. Tugging halfhearted in his hold, you whined. "C'mon man, it's too hot for this—"

Without warning, the Fierce Deity rose to his feet, practically casting a shadow over your sweltering form, and hoisted you, butt first, over his shoulder in one quick motion. You gasped in outrage, fists banging on the back of his armor, which did no damage whatsoever. "H-Hey! Put me down!"

Was this really happening? You were half-convinced a fever dream had taken hold of your sanity, because while Fierce was, well, fierce, he definitely wasn't the type to throw you down somewhere and make love to you... or was he? You could count the number of 'encounters' you'd had with the deity on one hand, as you relationship hadn't developed in that way until recently, and he had always waited for you to initiate, though you weren't dense enough to miss the way he glanced back at you with an expression with absolute want. Clearly, this display was him coming out of his metaphorical shell, and you were so here for it. Not that you weren't going to give him a run for his money first.

"Fierce!" You kicked your feet, though they didn't go far with the protective arm slung over the backs of your thighs. "Fierce, are you listening?"

"No," responded the deity honestly. "You would have used the phrase if you truly wanted me to stop."

Fuck, he had you there. You had been the one to suggest a safe word in the early hours of your newfound 'relationship', and Fierce quickly agreed. Though the word 'vow' had entered the conversation, it was quickly shot down, with the deity explaining that his vow to you was a sacred, unbreakable thing, and he had no wish to sully it. You were fairly sure him fucking your brains out wouldn't do that, but relented quickly when you realized just how serious he was.

"That doesn't mean I can't be annoyed with you," you snarked, though it was more playful than anything. Your house had long since disappeared as you traveled further into the forest, though it was hard to tell just how far he had taken you.

"That is why I shall never cease to adore you."

"I, what—" You squawked in abject embarrassment despite the fact that you had seen each other naked multiple times. "Y-You can't just say stuff out of the blue like that!"

"Inconceivable," came the second movie reference of the day. "I would never utter an untruth to you."

The fuck? Sure, he liked call you his treasure when he was balls deep, and there was no shortage of affection from him when you found yourself alone together, but you'd hardly expected such a stoic man to... well, it was as if he was trying to fluster you!

And, by god, was it working. Heat rushed through every part of your body at the thought of him taking control for the first time in, well, forever. Initiating was your thing, but now...

With a face redder than a beet, you muttered. "You better carry me back, dick."

You yelped when something distinctly close to a hand came down on your left ass cheek, not hard enough to hurt, but it got your attention all the same. "I intend to," came the deity's smug promise as you grappled with the fact that he had just smacked your ass.

Before you could muster a response to the insanity that had just occurred, Fierce pushed past a gaggle of branches--making sure they didn't smack you in the process, which was honestly the sweetest--and marched into the clearing where the hot springs resided. You waited patiently for him to set you down, regarding the bubbling spring with thoughtful consideration. The water was cool, that much you were sure of, and the area was blissfully empty of squawking children.

"...You may be on to something here."

A chuckle rumbled from Fierce's mouth, and he began to remove his armor. You froze as his breastplate and tunic came off, revealing miles of battle-scarred skin, glistening temptingly in the blazing sun, then scrambled to remove your shorts the second he undid his belt, because damn if you weren't going to get a piece of that. "You're such a bad influence," you teased, tossing your shorts to the way side as his leggings flew to the ground below. While you had the foresight to put on a pair of swim bottoms, the deity had done no such thing, standing naked before you without a care in the world. You were glad to see him so confident, even though it was wholeheartedly unexpected. "Scaring kids so we can play hooky."

But Fierce wasn't fazed, marching forward to scoop you up once again. You laughed in surprise, arms falling around his neck, legs wrapped around his very naked waist, as an arm came under your ass to support you. "I live to serve," rumbled the deity softly, and you pecked his lips with a cheeky grin.

"I know."

You giggled when he entered the spring, tall enough that no water reached you for a few steps. You wiggled out of his grasp as soon as the water touched your bum, paddling away happily in the blissfully chilly spring. The deity made no move to grab you, standing waist-deep with his arms crossed over his delicious chest. You began to tread, swiveling your body to face his. "Isn't it nice?"

Fierce offered you the ghost of a smile, though the softness in his eyes said what he didn't. "It is."

Still treading, you continued: "You know how to swim?"

He nodded, expression flashing to something more grave. "How am I to protect you without?"

That was the question, wasn't it? Chuckling, you paddled back over, leaving a trail of bubbles in your wake, hands outstretched like a child. The Fierce Deity caught you under the arms, pulling you close. His skin was cool, and you snuggled closer, practically purring... until something very familiar poked your prone thigh.

You bit your lip, feeling a rush of heat in your abdomen that had absolutely nothing to do with the weather. Glancing up at him through your lashes, you quipped: "Is that a sword or are you just happy to see me?"

Fierce's large hands slid down to cup your rear, covered only by the thin fabric of your swim bottoms. His expression seemed to darken when you arched slightly into his touch

"Fierce..." you breathed, running your hands over his broad shoulders as his hardness slid against your core, and it was then that the deity chose to capture your lips in a searing kiss, pulling you impossibly close. You moaned into his mouth, water rushing past your bare sides as he backed you against a conveniently-placed rock at the edge of the spring. He pressed you to them, deepening the kiss as you pawed at his shoulders.

"--Wait," you all but gasped when he broke the kiss. The Fierce Deity froze, hands stilling. His gaze never left your face, studying your panicked expression as he waited for you to speak. "--What if someone sees?"

A hand came up to stroke your cheek, tender enough that you scarcely believed it had happened in the first place. "No one shall disturb us," your deity soothed, but you knew that if you truly wished it, he would stop without so much as a complain. It was simply how he was.

You chewed the inside of your cheek, averting your eyes for a split second. It wasn't that you didn't believe him, but there was something so taboo about enjoying each other in such a public space. Gaze flitting back to him, you whispered: "...Promise?"

"I vow it," was his response, so sincere that you could have cried. Heart swelling, you gave a shy nod and pulled him in for another blistering kiss. The Fierce Deity's reaction was slow, but purposeful, as his hands stroked up and down your sides, eventually sliding upwards to hold your cheeks. Your legs tightened around his waist, bringing you impossibly closer to his rock hard dick. You broke the kiss, offering him a small, cheeky grin that coincided perfectly with the slow roll of your hips. The tips of the deity's ears pinked and you didn't miss the way his jaw clenched. "I guess you are excited to see me."

Instead of responding, he dove for your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point gently. You whimpered, chin tilting up for better access. His hands roamed back down to your sides, noticeably cautious, and you realized why when they cupped your breasts, thumbs stroking your pebbled nipples through your bikini top.

"Fierce!" You quivered as his tongue lathed over your neck, peppering the trembling skin with featherlight kisses. It didn't matter that you had done this before--it was amazing every time. He tweaked a nipple carefully and you broke. "Ah!"

Your hands grabbed hold of his stark white hair, tugging softly as you struggled to contain yourself. Your back arched when one of his hands slid across your spine to untie your top, tossing it aside as soon as the fabric slackened enough to be pulled off, baring your breasts to the open air. You shivered, half from the chill and half from the intensity of his stare, as though he would never get tired of you.

Almost reverently, the Fierce Deity dipped his head, taking a nipple in his hot mouth. You threw your head back when he rolled the other one between two thick fingers, plucking the tender bud hard enough to make you squeal. His gaze snapped to your face, drinking in every single one of your reactions with such a starstruck glint in his eyes that you could hardly stand to hold his burning look.

"Please," you whimpered, unsure of what you were actually asking for. Maybe it was his body, pressed closer than you could ever imagine, or maybe it was his soul, practically cradled in the palm of your hand. You felt as though would die for those eyes, gazing up at you with more emotion than you knew what to do with. "Fierce..."

Maybe it was the way you said his name, or the way you looked above him, face flushed a deep cherry as you panted for breath, but the Fierce Deity released your nipple to press a sweet kiss to the top of your left breast, directly over your beating heart. A soft gasp left you when his hands cupped your ass and he lifted you onto the rock, laying you down like you were the deity in this relationship.

You craned your neck to watch him settle between your legs, face to face with your undoubtedly soaked swim bottoms. Calloused hands stroked your hips, but Fierce didn't go further, staring at you with a questioning gaze. The tips of his fingers grazed the waistband, and his voice practically rumbled through you.

"May I?"

It warmed your heart that, even now, he was still this soft, this gentle with you, always asking before going further. Every one of his touches was a question that you were all too eager to answer, practically trembling with anticipation. "Go ahead," you whispered, shooting him a dazzling smile. Your swim bottoms were abruptly removed, but you didn't find it in yourself to care when his mouth immediately sealed over your throbbing pussy, delivering a strong suck that had you clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle your noises. A sort of growl reverberated through you and the Fierce Deity was immediately above you, gently removing your hand and pinning it to the stone with his own. The head of his dick pulsed against your entrance, but you weren't able to appreciate it when your chin was abruptly grabbed.

"No," rumbled the deity in a tone that reminded you of the distant crack of thunder, so close that you could feel his breath against your face. "I want to hear you."

You could have cum at that very moment.

Holy. Shit.

You could only manage a wobbly nod, jaw nearly at the floor, and he scooted back down, giving you a pointed look before lacing your fingers with his, holding your hands at your stomach as he reacquainted himself with your swollen clit, suckling the throbbing bud with enough force to make you moan louder that you had in your life. After a few seconds, he pulled back, tongue flicked against the small nub before he dover down to absolutely devour your dripping cunt. Your hips attempted to buck at the overwhelming pleasure, but they didn't go far with your arms in the way. You yelped as that godly tongue licked a stripe from base to clit, then diving down do slurp at the slick of your entrance. If there was any hope of you holding your moans back before, there certainly wasn't now, even as you twisted and shivered. Even so, there was no reprieve from that glorious mouth of his as he chased your every which way, rumbling lowly against your lips when you moved a bit too harshly.

"Fuck, Fierce–" you wailed as the coil in your belly tightened more and more, drawing you closer to the precipice of orgasm than you thought possible. it was all too obvious that he definitely wasn't human, and you were living for it. "Oh god, I'm going to–"

You finished the sentence with a shrill cry when he released one of your hands to push two thick fingers into your pussy, crooking at just the right angle that–paired with the sharp, all-consuming suck he delivered to your clit–made you quite literally see stars as your orgasm crashed into you like a speeding train. Your body shook, back arching with wild abandon, as you screamed your release to the bright, blue sky, too far gone to care whether anyone saw you or not.

Fierce released you when the tremors stopped, removing his fingers from your overstimulated cunt, though it wasn't for long, as he had you in his arms before your knees could drop from their folded position, cradling you to his naked chest as he made his way to shore, carefully sitting against a stone beside the bank with you in his lap, head buried in the center of his chest.

"Are you alright?" came his concerned rumble, and you couldn't help but chuckle, lifting your head to deliver a swift kiss to his chin.

"Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have you?" you asked softly, pushing some hair from your sweaty forehead.

"Many times," answered the deity with a small smile, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. He tasted sweet, a bit musky, and you couldn't imagine anything better... until you registered the pulsing penis–large and thick, wreathed in trimmed white hair that most definitely matched the drapes–settled against your aching cunt. It was sweet that he was giving you time to recover, but you wanted that in you now.

"Fierce," you moaned, rocking your hips slowly into his dick. A soft groan was your answer, and his hands were at your hips, guiding you up. Panting, you took him in hand, bringing the tip to rest snuggly between your drooling folds, angling yourself to that the appendage brushed heavily against the base of your clit, eliciting a shiver and moan.

Something dark glinted in the deity's stark eyes for a split second, but you didn't dwell on it when he began to push you down on his cock; slowly, as to not harm you, but there was definitely an insistent edge to his guidance that you couldn't help but notice. That, combined with the subtle clenching of his jaw, was all you needed to know on the subject. Gathering your strength, you sealed your hands on his shoulders and slid all the way down in one fell swoop, drawing a surprised gasp of your name from Fierce himself. You knew he wasn't much of a talker during sex, which was why moments like this were so damn delicious.

Gathering your strength, you began to bounce with reckless abandon, drawing more grunts from your lover as he grappled with the newfound pleasure. He always did what was good for you, which made returning the favor all the more overdue.

"Does that– huff, feel good?" You asked between bounces, making sure your grin was as cheeky as could be, reaching up to grasp handfuls of his hair. You tugged gently, forcing him to bend down for a sweet, sweet kiss. His hands tightened on your hips, but no move was made to restrain you, so you continued like your life depended on it, moaning softly as the head of his dick caressed that spongey spot within you with every swooping thrust. "You're always– haa, fuck, doing things for me, s-so I'm going to return the–...ohhh god, favor."

Time seemed to meld together when he kissed you, tongues swirling together in a dance only known to the two of you. The Fierce Deity wasn't a man of many words, but you felt his devotion in the way he pulled you close, his desire as his hand snaked down to play with your swollen bud of a clit, and his love in the way he looked at you with absolute, unadulterated adoration.

There was no doubt in your mind that you were in love with Fierce , which is why you reached beneath you to fondle his balls, large and heavy, in a featherlight caress, drawing another half-moan from the depths of his throat. You joined the chorus when the coil in your abdomen began to tighten once again under his careful ministrations. Your hips and thighs burned as you struggled to keep pace, huffing and puffing as determination flashed in your eyes. he did so much for you, so how could you not return–

As if on cue, Fierce's hands returned to the sides of your hips, gripping your love handles with a conviction. His legs, once straight, curved as he planted his feet on the ground and delivered a harsh thrust into you that had you screaming like a maniac. Over and over, he pounded into your poor pussy, rocking your very soul as you fought for stability, arching your chest into his own, which he told advantage of in the form of his mouth closing in on a bobbing nipple, sucking deftly as he practically hollowed you from the inside out. A myriad of whimpers left your throat, raw from all the yelling, but there was nothing you could do but scratch your nails down his biceps, crying your pleasure to the sky above.

It was then that your climax hit you with the force of a tsunami. You threw your head back with a half-sob when he slammed your hips to his own, holding you in place as you thrashed and babbled in overwhelming pleasure, eventually wandering up to control your upper body so he could press gentle kisses and bites onto your tender flesh. One thrust later and scalding cum filled your overstimulated, drooling pussy, but you were far too gone to react with anything other than a soft moan.

Exhausted, you allowed yourself to fall back into his chest, heaving with exertion. The Fierce Deity held you close, and you simply existed there for a few precious moments, drinking in each other's presence. It was only when his hands stroked over your spine, eliciting several shivers, did you find your voice again.

"W-Wait, I need a–" you tried to sit up–mildly panicked at the thought of him wanting to go again–but a gentle hand kept you down. "–I need a break."

"I know," came your lover's comforting rumble. He sounded weary, but you knew it wouldn't last; he was a god, after all. "How do you feel?"

"Fucked," you snarked tiredly, earning yourself a tender swat to the ass that felt more like a caress than anything. "I'm joking– I'm tired."

"I can tell," sneered the deity, hands coming under your armpits. You did your best impression of a rag doll as he lifted you off his massive dick, standing up and cuddling your prone form to his chest. You loosely wrapped an arm around his thick neck, black spots dancing in your vision when he bent to retrieve his clothes and yours. "Sleep, my dove."

And who were you to refuse? With a sleepy rumble, you pecked his shoulder once more and allowed sleep to take you.

The next morning, there was a note on your front door.

You had awoken in your bedroom, satisfyingly sore, to one of Wild's patented omelets on your nightstand. You grabbed the accompanying fork and ate the still warm creation before traipsing down the stares to greet the boys, though not before exchanging the large tunic placed over you for some regular clothes, because while you loved wearing Fierce's clothes, you had some sense when it came to the other men in the house knowing of your... escapades with the deity, who was nowhere to be found. Time informed you that he was 'out', which was code for 'likely doing something illegal because no one wanted to fight him', but it was far too early to deal with whatever bullshit that scenario would bring.

You saw the note–which was really just a sad piece of notebook paper taped to the center of your door–after getting the mail. Puzzled, you retrieved it, tucked the mail under your arm, and nearly dropped everything when you read the blasted thing.

It was a note from your neighbor, Cindy, a middle-aged woman with either two or three kids–you had fallen out with her after she caught the Fierce Deity stalking over her property line in the dead of night–informing you that your guard dog had struck once again and she was calling the police if she saw his 'satanic cosplayer ass' again.

After taking a moment to gather your bearings–and once again contemplate the insanity your life had become, you crumpled the note, opened your mouth, and bellowed: "FIERCE DEITY!"

That's a wrap! I hope y'all enjoyed the product of my conversation with @h4wari. I'll do edits tomorrow so feast on this unedited sin.

Tag List:

@ash-staff

[thefangirlfever]

"Let me keep you warm"(a Miguel O'hara NSFW story, 18+)

Summary: What would happen if the two of you spend the night in a cabin during a snow storm?

Tags: NSFW, MDNI, F/M, dad bod Miguel, oral sex (F. receiving), married couple, breast play (slightly), masturbation, face sitting, curvy y/n

==========================

The two of you were cuddling in front of the fireplace while the storm kept raging outside. You’ve been taken by surprise by the weather and since the beginning of the storm, the power has run out in the cabin. There were some candles in the cellar that you used to light up the room and you could also rely on the fireplace’s light and warmth.

Even so, your body was slightly shivering under the covers. Miguel was hugging you from behind, his strong arms circling your much smaller silhouette, holding you close enough to keep you warm and still being gentle with you as if you were made of glass. He knew that the storm was worrying you and he was trying his best to reassure you. One of his hands kept stroking your hair while whispering sweet nothings, trying to keep your attention away from what was going on inside. Still, your eyes would often linger on the window. There was something mesmerizing in this eerie landscape, as white and pure as a pearl. You were both fascinated and frightened by this sight. Feeling your body shivering, Miguel’s arms held you tighter and he planted a quick kiss on the top of your head. His eyes also looked at the window but he didn’t seem as impressed as you. He just sighed.

“I’ll have to shovel all the snow tomorrow I guess…”

You scoffed at his so-practical mind, which made him smile softly. As long as you were not scared, he didn’t mind shoveling as much snow as possible the next day. His mouth didn’t leave your head and instead he gave one quick kiss to your ear and then to your nape, making a few hair standing up.

“Miguel...do you think it’s the right moment for that?”

Even if you couldn’t see his face, you knew that he was smiling. His lips kept giving some quick pecks to your skin, carefully moving your hair to the side.

“Of course. It’s just the two of us, trapped in the middle of the woods… It’s like we’re all alone in the world.”

“I didn’t know that you were such a romantic.”, you teased him. Even if you rolled your eyes at his words, you were clearly amused. When his hands slipped under the blanket and began to run up and down your back, you didn’t move away. His hands were surprisingly warm, while you’ve been feeling like an ice cube all the time you spend in this place. Even if you already knew it, it still surprised you every time, just how warm his body constantly was. You were not shy to say the word. Miguel just felt comfortable and he knew it, whether it was good or bad for you was still up to decide. It could be quite delightful to come back home after a long day of work and just lay your head on his tummy, let him cradle you in his arms and make the little spoon out of you. But sometimes he knew you were unable to resist him in these conditions and he didn’t shy away from using these advantages.

“Romantic? If you could read my thoughts right now, I don’t think you would call me this way.”, he teased you back while his fingertips ran over your spine. His hand tugged at the hem of your shirt and you felt his fingertips on the small of your back. Your ears perked up at his words and took a pink hue, which you couldn’t hide from him in this position. Miguel was ruthless in these moments; he just knew it wouldn’t take a lot of time for you to indulge in this moment.

“Maybe this storm is even a good thing? It’s been such a long time since I had you all for myself…”

You couldn’t tell him he was wrong. It’s been so long since the two of you have had a moment for yourselves and these holidays were supposed to be the occasion to catch up on this time. Yes, life has kept you busy these last months, work has been hectic and you were often too tired to do anything. Miguel never pressured you into doing anything against your well-being or that could deprive you of some well-deserve rest. But that didn’t mean you didn’t want something to happen. In fact, you had some ideas on how to spend these holidays… Everything was supposed to be perfect, romantic in every way… and this stupid storm ruined everything. This simple thought frustrated you even more. Feeling your body tense, Miguel kept massaging your back, rubbing his hands over you in slow, circular motions. He knew it was frustrating for you since you had planned everything so well, and he appreciated your efforts. But he didn’t need all that and he was determined to prove it to you.

Miguel’s lips kept kissing your neck, even gently nibbling on it. You were slowly feeling your body getting warmer, especially one area.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t think about it…”

Well, you did think about it. Honestly, at some point you were only thinking about this, especially after weeks of inactivity.

“Maybe, I did…”, you answered quietly. Miguel smiled against your skin as he pulled you closer to him. The blanket fell from your shoulders and his hands snaked up higher on your back. Your shirt slowly lifted up, revealing more of your skin and Miguel smirked, noticing that you didn’t have a bra on.

“You’re really making this almost too easy for me.” His fingertips brushed against your spine, making you shiver. He took his time admiring your body squirm under his touch, the way the freckles and moles on your back seemed to dance against your skin, looking like a constellation. Under your skin, your ribs were heaving up and down at a slow pace, just like your breathing had slowed down. Miguel couldn’t fight back the urge to wrap his hands around them, feeling how thin your skin was, how you were shaking so slightly… His hands kept moving higher, soon resting under your chest, feeling your heartbeat under his fingers. After weeks spend without touching you, or at least not how he was dreaming of, he felt like he could get drunk from your skin.

“I need to see you. Please…”, he whispered in the crook of your neck.

In the silence of the room, only the noise of the fire cracking could be heard. You slowly lifted your arms, not making any other move, letting him take control of the situation. Despite his craving for your body, he managed to slowly take your shirt off. He tossed the fabric on the side without a lot of care, his eyes too focused on you. The fire was creating shadows on your body, highlighting every curve there was to see. You were sweating a little and he could feel it, smell it, just like he could feel the warmth of your body. None of that bothered him, quite the opposite. It was the proof that you were there, real and more beautiful than ever. Wherever his fingers were caressing you, its shadow was clearly visible on your skin and you couldn’t help but follow him with your eyes.

“I’ve missed this so much. I’ve missed you…” He didn’t need to tell you. His hands were speaking for him as he gently cupped your breasts, feeling their weight and the texture of your skin. He took his time feeling them as if it was his first time discovering them. In fact he knew them by heart at this point, just like the rest of your body. But that didn’t stop him from following the blue veins under your skin with his fingertips. Finally his calloused fingertips reached the center of your breasts and brushed against your nipples. You felt your body stiffen at his touch. You’ve never felt this sensitive in such a long time. It felt like waking up from a very long nap.

“I’ve missed that too…”, you answered quietly. Miguel nibbled your ear, watching with a growing excitement your body responding to his teasing.

“How bad did you miss it?”

Bad. You missed it so bad and it’s easy to read this hunger in your eyes. You turn your head and watch Miguel’s expression. He looks as hungry as you, if not more. Both your faces are close enough for you to kiss but he refuses you his lips and instead keeps nibbling on your earlobe, teasing you between each bite:

“Show me. Show me how you’ve missed it. I want to see what you were doing when I couldn’t take care of you.”

You were more than happy to know that you could ease the aching burn in your lower body. Since Miguel has started touching you, you felt yourself getting wet. You were so responsive, so needy that you obediently lowered you pajama pants, exposing a wet patch in the middle of your underwear. Miguel groaned at the sight before kissing your skin end encouraging you to keep going. With your eyes closed, you slide your finger up and down, feeling your swollen lips and the wetness spreading down there. You were taking your time and Miguel didn’t rush you, enjoying the show you were giving him. When you finally slipped one finger inside your underwear, he finally said something:

“Take it off please… I want to see it.” One of his hands held your left thigh and moved it to the side, spreading your legs further as you kept undressing. You may have been naked in this moment, but you’ve never felt hotter. Your sweat kept dribbling in small droplets over the curves of your body, down to the patch of brown pubic hair between your thighs. Your arousal was glistening on the brown little bush and when you parted your lips, a sharp contrast appeared between your slick, pink and puffy lips and the tuft of hair.

“So pretty…”, Miguel whispered in awe. His hands were dying to touch you but the sight of your fingers moving between your little forest, diving into this little river made his breath heavier.

At first, you were hesitant, almost shy but the more you were remembering these long nights of solitude and this frustration, the deeper you delved into your throbbing cunt. You were knuckles deep inside your hole, your thumb brushing against your clit, and you were soon panting. No matter how hard you tried, how fast you were fingering yourself, you would never achieve the same sensation as when he was inside you. And he knew it. He knew what you were craving, what you wanted and he would make you say it, ask for it.

You were so close and yet you didn’t reach your peak. You could almost feel your orgasm slipping between your fingers. The more you chase it, the further it ran away, leaving you a mess, your fingers covered in your juice and still this craving sensation inside of you, like an itch that needed to be scratched but you couldn’t reach it. Miguel sensed your desperation; he saw your face crunched up in a grimace of agony, your lips slightly parted in an annoyed grunt. He kissed your neck one last time and whispered:

“Let me take care of that.”

He was more than eager to help you. These weeks had also left him needy and frustrated. No matter how much he tried to relieve himself of that pressure, this was never enough. What he needed was not to just empty himself, to give into this release, but you. He wanted you. With one gentle move of his hands, he helped you lie down on the fuzzy carpet. You were facing him and the fire kept projecting his soft shadows on your body. He didn’t even know where to begin with you. Everything he saw, every single part of you seemed to call him, to ask for his attention. He quickly removed his flannel shirt and a soft sound escape your lips. You stretched your arms, as if you were asking for him to embrace you, to let you lie down his powerful chest. His eyes kept roaming your body and he undid his pants with such an urgency that his fingers were almost shaking and he had to try twice to unbuckle them. Once his body was finally free of his clothes, he finally leaned over you. You’ve missed the way his body was crushing you, engulfing you, wrapping around perfectly as if he tried to cut you from the rest of the world. You were calling his name, pleading for him to suffocate you even.

“I’m here mi Vida. I’m coming...I’m coming…” His lips met yours in a heated kiss while you kept on stroking his hair. Once he had broken the kiss, Miguel gave your lower lip one playful bite and he began to trace his way down your body. His lips didn’t neglect any part of you and all this time, he never stopped looking at you. When his lips reached your navel, he could smell your arousal oozing from between your legs. It was intoxicating, bittersweet and just like some rich honey. He couldn’t stop himself from taking a bite…

Miguel’s hands slipped under your butt and he grabbed it, lifting you slightly from the ground until your lips were connected. He took his time kissing your womanhood, his lips grazing your mound, your inner thighs… His thick tongue made its way between your folds, exploring every inch of you, tasting you like you were some ripe and juicy fruit. He was eating you like a starved man with no consideration from the mess he was doing on himself as your cyprine leaked down his chin and made his lips glisten. As if this wasn’t already too much for you, he never stopped looking at you all this time. His face buried between your thighs with his eyes only poking out, looking at you in awe. The sounds he was making while eating you out only added to your pleasure and you squeezed your thighs around his face. Only muffled sounds reached your ears as he kept moving his tongue, deeper and deeper. Frustrated to not reach your spot, he lifted your hips higher, your legs hanging around his neck as he kept lapping at your juice like an animal. You were moving your hips in rhythm with his lips and the more you kept moving, the more you felt hot, almost burning. But it was worth it. Still, Miguel couldn’t stand the sight of you working so hard when he just wanted to pleasure you like you deserved it after all this time.

“This won’t do it. I want to feel you deeper…” He gave your lips one teasing lick before dragging you closer to him. Sometimes you forgot how strong he was, but not in these moments. Without any struggle, he lifted you and pressed your body against his.

“Miguel, what are you doing?” You were still a little dizzy from your last game and you didn’t understand why he made you move, especially since you were quite enjoying what the two of you were doing.

“I think there’s something we could try… and that would be more enjoyable for you.”

Nothing good ever comes out from his wicked smile, and that’s why you liked seeing it on his face so much.

“Is it really going to be enjoyable for me or just for you?”, you asked with a teasing smile. Miguel chuckled at your insinuation and kissed your neck once again, while holding the other side of your face with his hand. You could feel the sweat dripping down your back, strands of hair clinging to your forehead and the skin of your neck turning moist from your sweat. This didn’t stop Miguel to kiss you hungrily. His own body seemed to glisten in this light, revealing golden undertones to his tan skin. Your skins rubbed against one another, your scents mixing into one heady aroma that you would take to you sheets for the rest of the night.

Miguel’s teeth dragged along your skin, tasting your essence until he reached your pulse. Purple and red marks had bloomed on your neck from his caress and he delighted himself, knowing that the next day you would wear the proof of his love. His lips kissed the part of your neck where he could feel your pulse. His lips trapped your heart and he whispered:

“I think it could be very enjoyable for the two of us.”

You smiled against his temple and replies: “What do you have in mind?”

“I want you to sit on my face. I need to feel you deeper.”

This seemed really tempting but you’ve never tried this before. In fact, you were a little afraid that your weight could be a problem. You looked at your body and Miguel’s eyes followed yours. With a gentle motion of his hand, he tilted your head up. His eyes looked for yours, trying to reassure you. He patiently listened to your explanations, to yours fears and as much as he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, he also craved this contact. You thought you would be too heavy for him? That you would crush him? Hell, he’d die a happy man if he met his death between your legs.

And that’s how you ended up sitting on his face. You were very careful to not crush him but that wasn’t enough for Miguel. He grabbed your hips and made you sit on him, really sit on him. Just when you were wondering if it wasn’t too much, you heard a muffled moan coming from between your legs. As much as you were embarrassed, you had to recognize that it was indeed as enjoyable as Miguel said it would be. His hungry lips were sucking on your cunt, drinking down from your hole as if he had stayed thirsty for too long. Your mound was rubbing perfectly with his strong nose every time your grind your hips, something you quickly took the rhythm for. Your hands grabbed his hair in a tight fist as you rode the wave, feeling yourself getting higher with each stroke of his tongue. Your moans joined in unison and Miguel’s tongue was danging against your clit, making the little nub stiffen more and more...until you couldn’t take it anymore. You erupted on his face and if you weren’t already dizzy with all this heat, you would have swear you heard him laughing.

On his side, it seemed that he had enjoyed this as much as you. It was impossible to not spot his hard-on as you slowly left his face. Miguel just gave you one look and you knew that this night was far from over.

==============================

I hope you enjoyed this new episode of "Dad bod Miguel O'hara does naughty things to you"™ I have other ideas for him.

Edit: thanks for the 200 likes ~~

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Private Dances [1]

Club!Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info • series masterlist •

A/N: A MASSIVE HUGE THANK YOU TO THE WONDERFUL, AMAZING, STUNNING @lonelyisamyw-0love for not just being one of the kindest and best people ever, but also for tipping me on ko-fi! Here is a little gift for you 💚

(Also, I'm so sorry this became more than one part.)

Warnings: overuse of italics, sub!Blue, choking, biting, a little blood, hand job, there's some power dynamics in here because reader is a dancer (but like Blue is getting his ass handed to him), swearing, badly proofread, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 2680

________________________________

The Best Room in the House

The best course of action was to stay out of his way, really. That had been your plan so far at least. 

Avoid his attention like Perseus circumvented Medusa’s glare. Keep your head down. Don’t make a fuss. Stay relatively quiet and blend into the background as much as possible. 

Being a back up dancer helped. All you had to do was make sure you kept in time with the other girls, make sure the spotlight was firmly pointed on the star. And far, far away from you. 

It had all been working out quite well. That was, of course, until tonight. 

Someone always brought Blue a nightcap (well, morningcap) in the early hours of Sunday. When the club had just closed for business. 

And that someone was always one of the dancers. Crystal did it most often, or Peach. Sometimes Trixie, or Songbird, or Sweetie Pie. They were the stars. They were the ones Blue wanted to… provide him with a service. 

So how it somehow fell upon you was madness. 

Peach and Trixie were otherwise engaged. Songbird was ill. Madam Gorski couldn’t find where the hell Sweetie Pie had disappeared off to after close (something you now wished you had thought of). And Crystal… well, she wasn’t in Blue’s good books at the moment. 

You were pretty sure that you had just had the unfortunate luck of being the first person Gorski had set eyes on.

You knocked on Blue’s office door, resisting the urge to use your shoe and actually going to the effort of balancing the tray in one hand. On the tray was a bottle of expensive whiskey and a glass with those fancy chilled stones in it instead of ice cubes. Though, why go to all this effort escaped you. You were almost certain that it was just for show, and besides Blue had a drinks cabinet in his office. 

You crept in slowly when he called out for you to enter. Half-heartedly hoping that maybe you could sneak in, leave the tray and get the hell out of there before he’d even realised you’d stepped inside. 

Blue sat at his desk, a small frown on his face as he scribbled in a ledger. Presumably checking the day's takings. 

That little spark of hope grew a fraction as he continued to ignore you as you walked quietly to the side table by the sofa and set the tray down, just as you’d been instructed to. Maybe sometimes he just wanted a drink. Maybe because you weren’t one of the stars you’d get out of here scot-free. 

You pause for half a second, nervously watching Blue as he keeps writing before you turn and take a step towards the door. 

“Sit.” 

Fuck.

You turn, swallowing down the anxiousness that threatens to close your throat. 

He’s still writing, staring intently at his papers. But he gestures when you don’t move straight away, pointing to the sofa but not looking up. “There.” 

You sit down quickly, perching on the edge as if the soft blue velvet would transform into teeth at any moment. 

He keeps working, the clock in the corner ticking away the seconds. You try to breathe steadily, to match your racing heartbeat to the gentle tick, tick, tick. It doesn’t work. 

Blue sighs, an unimpressed look on his face before he glances up, his dark eyes boring into you. 

The expression disappears instantly. Replaced with a subtle bemusement. A small smile pulls at the corners of his plush lips and he tilts his head to the side ever so slightly. 

You look away quickly. Choosing to stare ahead and focus on the ornate clock. 

Blue carefully puts his pen down and closes the ledger, you can see his movements out of the corner of your eye. The precision he purposefully injects into his actions as he savours the tension. 

“You’re new.” He says offhandedly, but it’s clear he expects a response. 

You shake your head, “No, erm, a few months.” Closer to six than two, but who was counting. 

“Really?” He raises an eyebrow at you as he leans his elbows on the desk. 

You nod.

“Huh,” he pauses for an unnecessary long time. “Strange, I would have thought I would have recognised you.” 

“I’m, I’m just a back up dancer.” You shake your head, shrugging a little as you tuck your hands under your legs to hide their shaking. 

“Now, now,” he tuts playfully, “back up dancers are important. It takes a lot of skill to work in a team like that.” He smiles, the expression viper like and poised to strike. 

You nod and stay quiet. 

Blue gets up slowly, just walking around to lean on his desk and crossing his arms. “Still… odd that Gorski didn’t recommend a pretty thing like you to me.” 

You swallow. The back ups were solely handed by Madam Gorski, while she jointly oversaw the main dancers with Blue. 

“I, erm, I don’t have the coordination.” You mutter. It’s a lie. And a bad one at that. 

“Hmm.” Blue nods, seeming to consider your words for a moment. “You do any private dances?” 

Private dances. What a fucking joke. 

“Not… currently.” You say carefully. You try your best not to look directly at him, keep your gaze on the clock or the floor.

He lets your answer hang in the air for a moment. “Why?” 

Fuck. “Madam Gorski said I’m not ready yet.” Not a complete lie. Not the whole truth either. 

“Virgin?” 

Your line of sight snaps up to him in surprise and you shake your head. 

He smiles again at you. “You sure?” 

You frown at the tease, despite how hard you’re trying to not provoke him. “Yeah.” 

His expression widens into a grin. “Could’ve fooled me with how skittish you’re being.” He moves slowly, coming to sit down next to you. He leans against the sofa, placing his arm over the back. You can feel his body heat radiating off him, even though there is a sliver of space between you. 

You swallow and say nothing, staring at the floor. Perhaps this would be so much easier if he wasn’t so upsettingly beautiful. 

He tuts again playfully and lightly touches your jaw, sitting up as he turns you to face him. “There, that’s better, isn’t it?” He looks you over with a quiet examination, like he was evaluating a painting.

“I think I’ll call you Bunny,” he tests the nickname on his tongue and nods. “Yeah, that suits you, my little skittish Bunny.” 

You frown, not liking the gleam in his eyes at all. But resist the urge to pull your face away from his hold.

He strokes your cheek absentmindedly, apparently not noticing your glare. “You know what you’re here for right?” He says softly, “what’s expected of you when you’re in my office?” 

You nod. And he smiles. 

“Sometimes it’s just a quick use of your mouth,” he runs his thumb over your bottom lip. “If I’m feeling tired or… satisfied with how the day’s gone.” 

He pauses, waiting to gauge your reaction. But you school your face into neutrality. Part of you expect his annoyance at this, but instead, that glow in his eyes brightens. 

“Sometimes I bend them over my desk until they’re a screaming, crying mess.” He runs the tip of his tongue over his lip. “Crystal likes that best, you should hear the sounds she makes, how she begs.” Despite the teasing nature of his tone, the word ‘Crystal’ still comes out harshly, barely veiled anger simmering just below the surface. 

You keep your face calm, force yourself to breathe slowly and steadily.

“What’s this?” Blue chuckles, “either my little Bunny is scared stiff, or she’s trying to be defiant?” 

Nothing, you give him nothing. 

He grins wickedly, almost giggling with glee. He shifts closer, his thigh brushing against yours. “Oh, defiance now is it? My little Bunny thinks she can be brave?” He teases, leaning closer still and lightly pinching at your jaw. “Silly thing,” he whispers, pressing his lips against your throat and you shiver. 

“I’ll make you beg.” He bites your neck, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to pull a yelp from your tongue. 

He chuckles and something in your soul just snaps. 

You move instinctively, not even thinking your actions through as you turn. The movement looks like you are going for a kiss, but instead, you sink your teeth into his bottom lip. 

He yelps in surprise, his eyes going wide for a second. He flinches back, but is cut short by your hand around his throat. 

There’s a bead of red on his lip when you pull back, bubbling up from the very centre until his tongue darts out and Blue groans, savering the iron spreading along his tastebuds. 

You squeeze his neck ever so slightly, just boarding on the side of discomfort and Blue moans again. His eyes roll back for just a second before he quickly closes them. His breathing stutters and he gasps, mouth agape as he presses closer to you. 

You swallow, your self-preservation seemingly coming back to you in an instant. 

That move had been stupid, so, so stupid. But here Blue was… seemingly enjoying it? Submitting to you? 

All the stories and warnings you’d heard, none of them ever mentioned Blue being anything but a sadist, a control freak who needed to have power over others. 

He whines again when you squeeze a little tighter. His hand has dropped from your face to your forearm, stroking your skin softly with his thumb. 

His eyes flutter open, hazy and desperate as he looks at you from under his lashes. 

You can’t help but think he looks better like this. Sweeter. 

Perhaps it’s panic, or just the need to not give up that fragment of power you have found, but you lean forward again, keeping your grip on his neck tight and kiss him. 

His whimper is musical as your lips touch his, as your tongue pilages his mouth and forces his surrender. He starts to kiss back a little forcefully, pushing his chest into yours and you squeeze his neck hard as you bite down on his lip once more. 

He yelps, eyes flying open as you pull back, his blood on your mouth. 

You keep your hold on him tight, nearly suffocating and he doesn’t fight back, doesn’t resist just gasps and mutters a hushed, “sorry.” 

The sincerity of it is puzzling. But it still sends a flush of heat to your stomach. 

He’s breathing hard, looking at you with large doe eyes. A dusting of pink to his cheeks. He tries to keep still, practically shaking as you look him over, appraising him like cattle bound for the slaughter. 

His cock presses painfully hard against his trousers. Your eyes linger on it for a moment, how it twitches under your gaze, how Blue’s breathing increases and his heartbeat flutters under your fingers. 

Oh, this is such a bad idea. But you can’t stop yourself. 

With your free left hand, you undo the first three buttons of his shirt and pull his tie just enough that it’s hanging loose and out of your way. Then you push him back by his neck, forcing his shoulder blades against the sofa. 

He moves easily, following your command and letting out a little grunt of air as you squeeze a fraction tighter. He closes his eyes again as you kiss the nape of his neck and shoulder, just below where your fingers press. Moans loudly when your kisses turn into bites. 

“I, ah, please!” His throat bobbs under you, his hips buck upwards uncontrollably, trying to chase a friction that isn’t there.  

You growl, moving your mouth close to his ear, “shut the fuck up,” you bite a little harshly on his earlobe and can’t help the satisfaction that rages in you when he whines so prettily. 

“S-sorry,” he breathes, eyes closed tightly, tears starting to build in the corners as the sensations start to bubble over and overwhelm his every thought. 

He squirms under you as you continue to bite and suck at his neck, breaking and bruising the skin. You squeeze his neck tighter in warning every time he moves just a little too much. 

Slowly, you inch your left hand down, the angle is a little awkward, but you manage it, and pop open his trouser button before unzipping his fly. 

He whimpers again as the pressure on his cock eases, the sound turning into a high-pitched sigh as you take him in hand and pull him free of his underwear. 

“Please, fuck, please, please,” he rocks his hips up, needing the warmth of your hand, needing you to touch him so, so badly. 

But you let go the second he bucks and Blue sobs. 

You squeeze his neck hard again and he shudders. “You’re such a little bitch, you know that? Can’t even fucking control yourself and I’ve barely done anything.” You hiss into his ear. 

He moans. He knows he shouldn’t be enjoying this. Shouldn’t be rock hard and leaking and needing anything you’d give him. He should be taking. He should be in control. He should-

You squeeze the base of his cock and neck at the same time and all thoughts fly out of his head. 

You let go of his dick and hold your hand up to his face. You slap him lightly when he keeps his eyes shut. 

He whimpers in surprise. 

“Spit.” You order.

For a second he stares at you in confusion, but panics the moment you frown and quickly spits into your palm.

“Again.” 

He follows your command. 

“Again.” 

He swirls his tongue around his mouth, summoning as much salvia as he can in hopes of pleasing you. 

You don’t praise him, but you don’t ask for more. 

He whines as you take him roughly in your hand, pumping him hard and fast and not giving him a second to adjust to the sudden onslaught. His back arches, eyes fluttering closed for a second as he moans loudly, whimpering and biting at his bloody bottom lip. 

Little breathless sighs of ‘please’, echo from his chest with every thrust. 

You keep a firm hand on his neck as you work him over, hampering his movements and keeping him in place. 

To your surprise, he doesn’t even try to fight your hold at all. Let’s you press him further into the back of the sofa as your hand glides over his velvet soft skin. 

Heat starts to tighten in his stomach, twist in the base of his cock and he sobs out in pleasure. “Please, I, please kiss me,” he whines so desperately, so needily as if he would fall apart if you refused him. 

You move forward, keeping up your pace and squeezing his neck tightly as you press your lips to his. 

He whimpers into your mouth, tears leaking down his cheeks and smudging his makeup. He grabs hold of your cheek hastily, but softly, stroking your skin as if you were made of fragile china. 

His hips buck as he chases his high, licking into your mouth and kissing you for all he’s worth. 

He comes with a sharp cry, spilling himself over his shirt and your hand. 

You pump him slowly, enjoying his little after shocks and spaced out expression before you stop and pull your lips away from his, move your hand from his neck. 

Blue breaths deeply, his head foggy and mind swimming. His thoughts don’t quite make sense, don’t fall into order the way he’s used to. He can’t remember when he’s come so hard. 

Nerves sneak back into your stomach, twisting your intestines. You swallow and wipe his cum from your fingers and hand onto his thigh before you stand quickly, breathing hard. 

You leave the room quickly before he can string a coherent thought together and head back to your room. 

You ignore the roaring heat in your stomach and the ache between your legs.

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @romanarose @saturn-rings-writes @boredzillenial @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho @pimosworld @melodygatesauthor @steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @queerponcho @lunar-ghoulie @dumdaradumdaradum @plastichearts @silver-night-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom

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[tiredofthehumanlife]

Draco malfoy headcannons

flavor: fluffy and smutish but they're separated so you won't get jump scared

Also I'm returning to my roots with this stinky mf okay I have writers block

Sfw

Liked you in the hallway crush type of way yk like when there’s that one person in the halls that you're like “god damn, anyways where’s my next class”

Never even tried to speak to you was just like ” I'll gaze from afar”

The only problem is that he has major resting bitch face so you were sat there racking your brain over what you could’ve possibly done to this random daddy’s money kid (like this isn't set in a private school but LOOK OVER THERE)

Confessed by just standing in front of you and 👁👁 before handing you an outdated birthday card with a 100 dollar bill inside with a note inside that was basically just him like “PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLE-“

You did give him a shot and he did actually speak words to you

bitchest bitch ever yall bicker (lovingly of course) 24/7

“did you for real just copy off of me?” “Okay well at least I don’t have daddy issues” “You cannot be talking and you know it”

He gives stick bug vibes yk

does not comprehend normal human life you could be complaining about doing laundry and he is like “Just have one of the elves do it?” and you are like “😶right so-“

just assume you have the answer to everything bc like you’re his partner? tf?

“how far away is Saturn in kilometers?” “They don't measure distance with kilometers, Draco, you dumbass. It’s called lightyears.” ‘right so in lightyears then?” “How tf am I supposed to know?”

he’ll hear a crash and look to you like you know what’s going on and you’ll turn his head back

I'm not one to assume someone’s sexuality but it's very much bisexual for the both of you (he likes guys and you know it)

a hot guy will pass and you both turn to each other like {insert Bratz meme here}

has created mustard gas on accident

laughs at his own jokes unironically (he is the only one laughing)

will try to be relatable and it's just like “yk that moment when your Prada shoes get gourmet chocolate on them”

makes up new names for your stuffed animals bc he thinks all the ones you picked were “lame”

his beauty sleep comes above everything else

Once Theo woke him up (there was a fire they had to evacuate) and the next night you found him hovering a pillow over Theo’s face you tackled him to the ground

Only knows how to play dominoes no card games or anything only dominoes

Bought you guys matching sleep masks

And embroidered PJs

And bunny slippers

PDA hater

He’ll sit next to you at max when you're around lots of people when you're just around his friends he's down with hugs and hand-holding holding maybe a cheek kiss but that's it

Alone is a different story he's attached to you he's actively trying to crawl under your skin as we speak

Terrified of bugs he's standing on a chair and screaming the second he sees one

Pays you in kisses when you take the bug outside (after you wash your hands)

Prefers baths over showers

Hates dogs and growls at them more than they growl at him

Only likes cats in theory bc they leave hair on his clothes

He's a reptile man

has owned a bearded dragon and will own more

Cold mf you wanna look me in the eye and tell me he has good circulation

Presses his cold ass feet against you while you're on the brink of sleep so confused when you swing your hand back to smack him

“I'm just cuddling you?”

“Cuddle somebody else fucking ice cube bitch ass”

Every single night

He sleeps on his back with his hands on his stomach like he's going to get lowered into his casket it's embarrassing

Thinks he knows how to shake ass and then when he tries (and fails) he considers never speaking to anyone ever again

Has gotten flirted with while he was with you and he just stared at them blankly bc he couldn't tell if it was happening

And then he left the room entirely

Walks in on people butt ass naked bc he has not learned how to knock (only child syndrome)

Stares a lot

He has nothing better to do so he’ll just come join you in your dorm and 👁hi👁

You've learned to block him out so he’ll scare the shit out of you

Sure he doesn't know how to flirt but he has money so he makes up for it

If you look at anything longer than three seconds he's following behind you with his card and the other twelve bags you have

This does have you ending up with things you didn't want so your friends love your random gifts

One of them will walk into potions with a luxury purse and one of the other kids will be like “tf Did you get that?” and your friends are like “🫵” And you're like “I didn't want it” So some of the student body does hate your guts just a little

favorite food is plain white rice

Thinks that acrylic nails go under the skin yk like in those videos with the fake hands pushing the nails up the finger yeah he thinks that actually happens to people

Jaw on the floor when you explain to him that's not what happens

Nsfw kinda

Down to three-way and will NOT let you forget

“I met this cute girl at the-” “I'm down. 😐”

“Oh did you see Harry this morning he was-” “Do you think he'd hook up with us?😐” “Babe. We've talked about this” “just once please”

Has asked you to peg him

unless you have a dick then he's asking for one of those two-way things (you're on my blog you know what I'm talking about dude)

Sub SUCK MY DICK DUDE HES A SUB SHUT UP

Actively begging sobbing on his knees “Please baby Please being so good please”

Would be a swinger and he'd have a pineapple on his front porch

Sorry

Has dabbled in the lockerrooms

Will ask you if the boys can watch him hit and you said only if they see him at his lowest begging and pleading for you he is silent as of now (give him two weeks)

Type of bitch to be covered in hickeys and when someone is like “What happened? To your neck?” and he's like “Literally what are you talking about?” will gaslight them into thinking there's nothing on his neck

Prefers cuddling naked but hates not immediately being in the bath after sex so he has to battle himself in his head

Can't dirty talk he's like “You look so nice when you're not in clothes? Do you like my wee wee?” and you're sitting there “bitch your what?”

Have resulted in him not being allowed to talk

Quickies number one hater

Needs his time to get into pussybitchboy mode

Okay bye

[squirting-sub]

My dom punished me for being a brat with ice. I'm very sensitive to cold and basically only like ice on my body when I'm in a hot hot sauna.

So she tied me to the bed spread eagle and tortured me with ice cubes, rubbing them all over me. Sometimes, she'd put one in her mouth and kiss my body, letting me feel the cold. When she was particularly mean, rubbing it on my waist where I'm even more sensitive, I bit her. Of course, she wasn't having it. She took another ice cube and rubbed it over my pussy, then pushed it inside me. I was struggling so much, fighting the cold sensation. She pulled the ice cube back out just to put it in my mouth. After scolding me she decided to warm me up though.

First, she sat on me to kiss me when I felt her hot piss on my stomach. Eventually, it escalated to her standing over me, giving me a golden shower. She told me to open my mouth and had me drink some, then she also aimed at my pussy and let me move my hips to get it on my clit. It was so hot, having her warm me up that way.

Finally, she edged me by fisting me. I loveeee the feeling of having her whole hand inside me, especially when she pulls it out and pushes it back inside. The feeling of being stretched out to the max. The entire time I felt like I'm about to cum but she knows exactly that I can't cum with her fist inside me. I begged her to "please let me cum Daddy. Please please please.", but no. She just kept fucking me, telling me no. Eventually I begged her again and she finally pulled out her thumb to fuck me with four fingers and I basically came right away. Squirted all over her hand. She kept going, making me cum again and again, telling me to show her how much I can squirt. I haven't came this hard in a long time. Probably because she edged me for so long beforehand. I screamed so loud, I'm pretty sure my neighbors heard.

[steddieas-shegoes]

It was hot. Too hot.

Eddie never liked being outside much, even as a small child. He hated being dirty, hated the way the dirt caked under his nails if he played with the kids on the playground. Hated the way his nose always got sunburnt.

It was burnt now, he could feel it. 

Steve had asked, no, forced him to weed the garden. It wasn’t even his garden, so this should be proof how wrapped he is around Steve’s finger.

He pulled a weed from the ground, making a disgusted face when he saw that a dead worm was somehow connected to it.

“This is worse than gym class,” Eddie mumbled to himself. 

He mumbled to himself because Steve wasn’t outside. He was inside, in the air conditioning, probably already enjoying his nice cool shower after mowing the grass. 

Their tiny ass yard takes about ten minutes to mow.

Their garden? A lifetime to weed.

Steve started the garden as a project when Robin left for college. She made him promise he would find something to do while she was away, and of all the things he tried, this is what made him happiest.

Eddie supported him, of course. Anything that made Steve happy made him happy.

But Eddie was not happy about having to take care of it alone.

He heard the door open just as he pulled out a particularly large weed. He ignored it, focusing on his task so he could be finished and take a shower.

“Looking so much better, baby. Thank you for helping,” Steve said from the porch, cold glass of water in hand.

Eddie took a deep breath.

Do not lash out. He’s being genuine. He’s happy. Leave it.

Steve walked back inside, probably seeing the way Eddie was ignoring him.

Within ten more minutes, Eddie was done, or at least thought he was. Steve would probably find some stragglers tomorrow, but that was something he could handle on his own.

He walked inside and took a deep breath.

Steve was making dinner. It smelled like his homemade cheeseburgers. My favorite.

When he entered the kitchen, Eddie couldn’t help smiling fondly at Steve dancing around the stove, throwing spices on the burgers as they sizzled and popped in the pan. 

A glass of water with ice cubes was sitting on the counter waiting for Eddie with a Tylenol next to it.

Eddie always got a headache when he was in the heat too long. 

He wordlessly took the pill, not wanting to interrupt Steve’s cooking or dancing. 

He headed to the bathroom to take a shower, slight limp from being in one position for too long outside slowing him down. 

There was already a fresh towel and clothes sitting on the closed toilet lid, and his favorite candle burning on the sink. 

Steve.

He rushed through his shower, scrubbing thoroughly to remove all the dirt and mud caked up under his nails and all over his body. He threw on his clothes and made his way back out to the kitchen, where Steve was putting their dinner on plates.

Eddie wrapped his arms around him, pulling him back into his chest and nuzzling his neck.

“Hello there, Eds,” Steve giggled.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Eddie said against his shoulder, leaving a kiss before pulling away.

“For what?”

Steve was giving him a confused look.

“For taking care of me.”

“Oh. Well you did me a big favor so.”

Steve tried to shrug it off, but Eddie wasn’t having it. Not after how negative he’d been before.

“It’s not a big favor to help you with something that makes you happy.”

Steve kissed his red nose, then pulled away to hand him his plate.

“Well, since I’m happy, now it’s time to make you happy, okay?”

“Okay, Stevie.”

[the-hole-in-terzos-shoe]

Trying to Resist

Terzo x Reader

Enjoy this little drabble that came to mind after watching too much Sex and the City 🌆

CW: Terzo gets his best friend pregnant

Word Count: 600

Terzo is your best friend, you'd slept with each other a handful of times over the years, but he was always a gentleman and kept it platonic when that's what you wanted. Now that you're older, it happens a lot less frequently, but after the two of you get particularly tipsy one night at a ministry party, you can't help it; you're drawn to each other like a pair of magnets.

You wake up naked in his bed, of course with his body tangled around yours. "Do you know how long it's been since we last did this?" you grumble in your sleepy morning voice.

"You were perfect last night. You are perfect this morning," he coos.

Weeks later, you find out you're pregnant. It could only be his. In the shock of everything, you think maybe it's best to get rid of it, but before you commit to that decision, you ultimately decide to keep the baby. Maybe it's your only shot at having one; you aren't getting any younger.

So you give in and tell Terzo. He's so surprised but in the best way! He's happy to be having a baby with his best friend of all people. But you lay down the ground rules that everything is strictly platonic, and that you will co-parent the baby separately. Terzo seems disheartened by this, but agrees.

Months and months later, Terzo is THE best dad. When he's not at work, he's always there to fill in when you need him. He gets you a nanny so you don't have to do it all yourself. He supports you when it's all too much.

Well one particular night, it is WAY too much. The baby won't stop crying, the nanny is off tonight, and you're beside yourself. At your wits end, you walk to Terzo's quarters, trying to shush the screaming one-year-old.

Like a knight in shining armor, he scoops his son up, and immediately knowing the problem, he walks right to his kitchenette for a cup of ice. Carefully he gives it to the little one, letting them slurp and chew on the cold cubes. "Mia Madre did the same thing for me when I was small. He's teething."

Damn Terzo and his magic baby touch. Once the baby is down for the night in the crib in Terzo's room, you stand in the living area, not sure what to do. You feel guilty putting the baby off on him.

Terzo walks in to ask what's wrong, and it's like something snaps inside you, and the tears start falling. In a second, he's at your side, holding you in a tight embrace, while you apologize, saying you don't know what's wrong.

"I think someone is just tired, cara mia. It's been a long night. Come, you stay with me. You will feel better staying with the baby, but you need to sleep."

Your lip quivers as you look up at him, considering his offer, considering the way he takes care of you. "I love you," you blurt out without thinking, and immediately you slap your hand over your mouth.

He responds with a chuckle and squeezes you tighter before telling you he loves you too.

"You do?" You ask.

"Sì, you are the mother of my child and my best friend. I always have love for you."

With soggy eyes, you consider his simple explanation. Then you lean up and kiss him. Really kiss him. Not just those sloppy kisses that lead to sex, but one of those kisses that lets out years of unresolved emotion. And then he scoops you up and takes you to his bed, this time to stay.

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO x FEM READER 

Gojo deserves a trophy for winning his fight against Sukuna. You’re happy to deliver.

wc — 3.5k

tags — mdni, oral (m receiving) (sorry) but he makes it up to you, praise, possessive Gojo, vaguely inspired by fight club, violence (not towards reader), this is the result of me seeing the leaks so potential spoilers, banner art from Jen Mazza’s incredible Peripety collection, title from On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong

You never get used to Getou’s lavish den of iniquity, no matter how long it's been since you were first indoctrinated. Indoctrination is the right word, because it's less club than cult. Once you’re in, you never get out. 

Hakari’s just finished throwing some stranger out on his ass when he spots you. He jogs a little to get to the warehouse doors before you can and pulls them open, grinning when you thank him and slip inside. There’s a certain level of respect afforded you as someone who runs in the right circles. 

It’s Getou’s name, of course. Yuuji and Maki and all of them, too. But mostly, it’s being known as Gojo’s girl that gives you the reputation you have. No one touches you without consequences. No one even looks at you the wrong way without consequences. Gojo’s the reason you can sail into this cage of violence and immorality without a care in the world. 

“Over here,” Getou shouts over the din as soon as you walk in. 

As the manager of this, whatever this is (half fight club, half business frat, full of the depraved elite), he likes to keep an eye on who’s in and who’s out. Both of the doors, and of consequence. You’re, of course, in. 

He hands you his drink. It’s something blue, tastes vaguely like gin. There’s an ice cube shaped like an eyeball in it, lining up with his weird tastes. You hand it back to him with a nasty shudder once you see the price tag, caught off the menu some politician is flipping through to your right. He’s making a killing off fleecing his spectators between the entrance fee and the drinks. 

“On the house, pretty girl,” he says. “Get whatever you want.” 

Even if Gojo has a soft spot for him, he’s playing a dangerous game. That doesn’t stop you from ordering, nursing your drink as you wait for the match to start. The rest of the audience sits on rickety chairs lined up in front of the makeshift ring. Getou guides you to the VIP booth at the front with only slightly less rickety chairs before he heads off. He’s a busy man, and there’s quite a lot to prepare before the match starts.  

At heart, he’s a businessman, priest costume be damned.  He certainly has the funds to pay for a better set up, but why would he? The ambience of this place does something for the crowd. The smokey lighting, the run-down furnishings, the suspicious stains on the floor - they all live for it. This place feeds off violence and corruption, a dangerous thrum through the baseline of it all promising depravity.  

You can’t lie and say it doesn’t enthrall you, too. 

Otherwise, you wouldn’t be as attracted to Gojo as you are. 

He leans against the ropes in one corner of the ring, a little too tall to relax fully. You can tell it’s irking him from the little tick in his jaw that you like to kiss away once his matches are over. His white hair is down instead of slicked up, a sure tell that he didn’t prepare for this. It flops into his eyes. He needs a haircut, you note fondly. 

He’s all long, lithe limbs and lean muscle. His shirt is already off, draped over the pole. There’s an easy confidence even to the way he waits, like a tiger stalking prey. It’s the attitude of a predator. He knows he’ll win. If there’s a doubt in the minds of anyone in the crowd, he’ll prove it tonight, just as he proved it for his past 5 matches. 

It’s a problem that Sukuna looks just as tough. He has the eyes, as Getou taught you to watch out for when he helped you place your first bet. You can always tell if a fighter is in it for the adrenaline or the money by looking at their eyes. Sukuna looks like he’s in it because he likes the taste of blood. You suppress the chill that goes through you. 

Gojo’s little prodigies are seated next to you when they arrive, three of them in a neat little row. It makes you smile. Megumi protests any assumption that he cares for the man who took him in after he was orphaned, but he shows up to every single match without fail. The trio follow their mentor around like little ducklings to their mother, hoping to soak up every last drop of strength. 

Megumi’s won 2 out of his 4 matches this quarter, a great showing for a rookie. Some might say his strategy is working. Gojo is, however much he goofs off, a relentless teacher. 

“Hi,” he says. “Sorry we’re late.” 

You pull him into a hug. “No worries! It hasn’t started yet.” 

Yuki’s collecting bets for this match. You personally think it’s a dangerous move on Getou’s part. She’s just as likely to skim off the top as she is to steal the whole box and never come back. Maybe she’d move to Singapore again. 

“Who are you betting on?” She asks with a grin. 

“Who else?” 

For the first time in a while, you find a pretty even split between Gojo’s box and his opponents when you go to submit your bet. Usually, no one bets against Gojo. 

“I’m just letting you know cause you’re a pretty girl,” someone leers at you. “But Sukuna has something up his sleeve. I wouldn’t bet on Six Eyes if I were you.” 

“Fuck off, Mahito,” Yuki says. She makes a move to put down her clipboard and he turns tail. You would, too. You’ve seen her fights. “He’s on Sukuna’s side. Don’t listen to him.” 

The lights dim, and the talking quiets into a whisper. No one wants to miss a moment. 

Getou’s the perfect announcer. He knows how to work a crowd. You don’t know who writes his speeches, if he prepares at all, but he always knows the right thing to say to drive them insane. They’re half-frenzied, foaming at the mouth. 

It helps that there are two legends in the ring. 

“Sukuna, the King of Curses,” Getou announces. The only light in the arena centers over the ring, spotlighting the fighters. The crowd goes wild. Personally, you think ‘King of Curses’ is a little cheesy. It can’t be worse than your boyfriend, though.

“Versues Gojo, Six Eyes!” 

Six Eyes is not what you had wanted him to call his alter ego. It’s not nearly as cool as Infinity, which is what you were pushing for, but Gojo’s insistent. Besides, it’s not like anyone will laugh at him. 

It’s Gojo, after all. 

He’s the golden boy of the crowds at these matches. Celebrities pay top dollar to see him fight. You know the appeal. When you were a kid, horror movies used to make you sick. You couldn’t watch a minute of a slasher without feeling the need to close your eyes, but Gojo makes everything different. 

He makes violence into an art form. The line of his arm as his right hook smashes into his opponent’s face paints a silver arc into your eyes. He makes fighting look like a dance, or sex. There’s nothing quite so alluring as watching Gojo go head to head with someone. 

He pushes into their space with the sort of grace that you wouldn’t expect from someone who packs so much brute force behind a punch, managing to execute the cleanest strike every single time. There’s not a single wasted movement in the execution of his attacks. 

Go-jo. Go-jo. Go-jo. 

The crowd is chanting his name. Gojo is encouraging them, making a lap around the arena while Sukuna seethes. He raises his arm, asking for more, more. 

More of their love. More of their adoration. More of their awe. 

Gojo doesn’t fight for the fame or glory, but it definitely helps.  

“The great Gojo Satoru,” Sukuna says, posturing. “You look weaker than the last time I saw you.” 

His last match was Getou, one of the rare matches the announcer will actually participate in. It’s an indulgence he only affords his best friend. It was also the closest one Gojo’s ever had to call, though he won in the end. He always does. He has had an uninterrupted streak of victories from his very first moment in the ring, something no other fighter can claim. Rather than deign to give Sukuna an answer, he calls to someone else. 

“You lost to this, Megumi?” 

Megumi makes a noise of irritation that’s barely restrained by Yuuji tugging his attention away. He’s rarely hotheaded except when it comes to Gojo, who delights in riling him up to see him fight harder. 

“I know he has it in him,” he told you once. “He’s just intent on keeping it down. You gotta pry it out of the kid with a crowbar.” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t be pushing if he doesn’t want to fight,” you had said, amused despite yourself. 

“Nah. It’ll be good.” 

You haven’t seen one of Megumi’s fights yet, but Gojo’s are always a show. 

Sometimes, the less experienced will try to circle their opponents, showing off that they know how to corner someone. They’re too quick to anger, having something to prove. That pride will be their downfall. Others who have a little more time under their belt stand stock still, waiting for the first hit. They want to show off. Their opponents come to them, so they can project the confidence of someone who doesn’t need to attack first. 

It’s all an illusion. If they were really confident, they would be doing what Gojo and Sukuna are doing - brawling. They get dirty quick, swinging at each other with all their strength. 

Sukuna goes for a left-right, smashing through Gojo’s left side with a preliminary feint and trying to needle in a right punch just after. Nothing gets through Gojo’s defenses. It leaves faint red marks on his arms, but not much else. His blocks are perfect, as every other move in his arsenal is. 

Then it’s Gojo’s turn. His jabs are quick and fierce, landing in quick succession. You’ve heard Sukuna never stumbles, but it’s a near thing now as Gojo presses him hard. He takes the impact of one of the heavier hits in his stomach, a bad place. 

You can practically see the cockiness oozing off Gojo. He’s just about hitting his flow state. 

When Megumi touches your arm, you almost snap at him, though you know he’s only concerned for you. With the way you’re white-knuckling the armrests of your seat, anyone would be. You can’t help it. You’re completely unable to look away from the arresting sight of his figure. The way he leans into Sukuna’s blows, dodging them at the last second. His perfect hands, the bruises they leave behind. They all leave an indelible impression on your heart, as they have from his very first match you watched. 

There’s a shocking beauty in this world that you would’ve never realized if he never brought you here. It’s only here, among the most primitive forms of beauty, that you can witness life at its utmost, just flashes of it, all the more enticing for its transience. Gojo’s pale hand catches Sukuna across the throat, cutting off his air. Sukuna scrambles to fling him off. 

The image remains in your mind, appearing behind your eyelids every time you blink. Gojo’s winning, pushing Sukuna towards his corner of the ring. He has him on the defense. Gojo has you enthralled. You’re hungry for more, hungry for the very sight of him. 

Then, there’s a sickening crack as Sukuna’s fist makes contact with Gojo’s jaw, right at the corner of his mouth. His head shoots left, following the impact. You cringe at the solid, meaty noise the hit made. The roar of the crowd goes silent. Megumi especially cringes at the sight. His hand goes to his own cheek in sympathy. 

You always love these until this moment. 

Even Sukuna seems stunned, as if he didn’t actually expect to land that hit. He reacts more slowly than he normally does, retracting his fist instead of pressing his advantage. It’s almost like he’s suspicious. 

Gojo spits blood onto the floor and straightens up with a sanguine smile. “My students are watching. Hope you don’t mind if I get serious.” 

After that, Sukuna doesn’t stand a chance. 

Left kick. Right kick. Left punch. Right punch again, and again, and again. Sukuna can’t fend him off. Gojo lands the same hit over and over, completely blowing through his defenses. At some point, Sukuna’s head hits the mat so hard it looks like the threat of a concussion. Gojo doesn’t waste his chance. He pins him down so he can rain blows down on him. Sukuna tries and fails to buck him off, cursing. 

It’s more than a fight at this point, it’s an execution. He makes crushing a man like Sukuna look like child’s play. It’s a show, and you can’t help but wonder if it’s for you, even as around you, the surge of the crowd is proving otherwise. They congest the barriers, begging for more. 

Gojo looks into the screaming crowd. Half of them are on their feet, jumping up and down, roaring his name or title alternatively. Even Sukuna’s side looks caught between fear and awe. He doesn’t care about any of them. 

When he realizes you’re watching, he strikes the final blow. 

A perfect arc of shiny white flies across the ring and lands on the cement outside of it. Instantly, people are scrambling for the memento. It’s Sukuna’s tooth. 

He doesn’t get back up. 

Only Gojo looks up, grinning like the devil. 

There’s a fire burning in your gut. He’s sweeping the crowd for your face; when his eyes meet yours, you make sure he knows exactly what he’s going to get once you find him in the locker room. He grins, splitting a just scabbed wound so blood begins trickling into his teeth. It’s messy, it’s gross, you want to lick it off his face. 

“Please just go,” Nobara says, pained. “I can’t watch you two eyefuck for another second.” 

You don’t need another invitation. 

No one protests when you push your way past the door marked “PRIVATE” in obnoxiously red letters. They’re used to you. Besides, no one wants to get in the way of Gojo’s girl and have him find an issue with them outside the ring. It’s bad enough when there are rules - a private fight with him is an absolute no go. If anything, they see you and know it's time to head home before they’re subject to a scene they absolutely have no interest in seeing. 

He’s waiting in his dressing chair, but he makes it look like a throne. 

Before you even finish closing the door, he’s on you. You have to scramble for the handle so you can lock it through the blinding haze of his kiss, the crush of his gentle hands on your waist, your jaw as he tilts your head up. 

“Are you here to give me my reward?” He says when he finally pulls back, gasping for air the way he didn’t in the match. He hadn’t even broken a sweat. Something in you delights at being the one to pull this side of him out in a way that even Sukuna hadn’t been able to. 

“Get back on that chair,” you say. 

“Oh, baby. You know I love it when you’re bossy,” he coos, and then he’s not acting so cocky anymore because you’re pulling his boxers down. No one can get him to shut up unless it’s you, on your knees. He cups your jaw possessively as you lick your lips. 

He can’t help it. You’re sweet and soft and perfect for him, everything he wants. It helps that you’re good with your mouth, the result of hours of practice. When his cock hits the back of your throat, his fist clenches in your hair before he can stop himself. Muttered sorries can’t compare to the way his eyes are rolling back into his head, the way his head is tipped so far back you can clearly see the bob of his throat when he swallows. 

The effect you’re having on him only makes his effect on you worse. Your cunt throbs, empty, but you’re determined to give him what he deserves before you give yourself any attention. 

“You’re making such a mess,” he mutters, low and guttural as he watches you drool on his cock. “Just look at you, baby.” 

The pet name makes your pace stutter. He laughs at you, because he may be sweet on you specifically, but your boyfriend is an asshole in general, and sometimes he just can’t help it. You make him regret it, licking up the underside of his cock, tracing a sensitive vein with your tongue. 

His hands are petting over your hair, as soothing as the quiet praise he drops, always some variation of ‘pretty little thing’ or ‘my good girl.’ You’re gagging, trying to fit more. You are good, you think as you struggle, hollowing your cheeks around him. So good, just for him. He moans and his hips jerk forward with a sudden spasm. It pushes his cock further into your mouth, hitting impossibly deep. Even when tears well up in your eyes, you urge him on, hand on his thigh. Given permission, he fucks into your mouth with abandon. 

When he pulls you off, you whine without shame. 

“Don’t be like that,” he coos - he’s always cooing at you, always softening his words, giving you the best of him. “I’m going to give you what you need.” 

He bends you over the vanity so you can see your face in your mirror. Your cheeks are warm and your eyes slightly watery. His hands have tousled your hair so thoroughly you look debauched. You love it, especially when he slips a hand under your skirt and flips it up. 

“Cute panties,” he snickers. 

They’re the same blue as his eyes. 

“You would like them, you narcissist,” you shoot back. 

Your voice dies as he pulls them off. You’re so wet it leaves a string stretching between the fabric and your pussy, only breaking once Gojo impatiently rips it off of you. You can’t even be mad, you’re so desperate for him. 

He slides a thigh between your legs and presses you open until you’re spread wide for him, on full display. One large hand grips your hip in a way that makes your brain go hazy and stupid, seeing the splay of his fingers across your flesh. Possessive. 

He slips two fingers into you gently. It’s still not enough. You knew before you came to this room that you were ready, that you prepared for him, but he always insists on opening you up nice and slow. It’s a pleasure for him to first see the way you fall apart on his fingers, riding them like you’re mad for it. He’s not big on delayed gratification until it comes to you, and then he can be maddeningly patient. He curls his fingers just right until your legs are trembling with desire. 

“Enough,” you gasp. You’re clutching onto his forearm with shaky hands, trying to push him away even as your cunt is sucking him in. Gojo raises an eyebrow at the mixed signals you’re sending.   

“I barely started,” he says, amused. 

“But I want it now,” you whine. 

He never refuses you. You’re so wet that he should push into you easily, but he’s big enough that it punches the breath of you anyway. He stays there, waiting, while you shake through a mini orgasm, lightning traveling up your spine and nerves as you shiver apart. 

“Told you,” he says, unsympathetic even as he pets your thighs for your comfort. “This is what happens when you get greedy.” 

Even being put in your place like this doesn’t deter you. Before long, you’re pleading for more again, begging for him to split you open on his cock. He groans, playfully put upon. When he accidentally bumps your clit, you clench down on him so hard it finally shuts him up. You’re so full of him you can barely breathe, his hips finally flush to your ass. 

“Perfect little cunt,” Gojo hisses, drowning in you. His face is buried in the crook of your neck as his hips snap forward. He’s too wired to be gentle but you want it, crave it. You need to see him like he was in that arena, a brutal machine. “Made for me, aren’t you?” 

You mindlessly hum your agreement as both hands pin your hips down to the cool surface of his dressing table. You feel so good you can’t even think straight, every single thought in your head centering on the tension in your core. When he finally, finally gives you what you need, fucking you so hard the table shakes, you cum so quickly you can’t even warn him. Your cunt spasms around him as your eyes flutter shut. If he hadn’t been holding you open, your legs would’ve snapped shut around him. 

“Good, sweetheart?” He asks as you come down from your high. “Because I don’t think I’ve gotten my full reward yet.”

[crimsonicarus]

GR RPF FIC REC MASTERLIST!!

Long post!

Big shoutout to @arsenalgbt for suggesting i made a list, here are my fave GR fics, im a multishipper so it will be a couple or ships here, anyway, enjoy!

I wanted to also thank all the authors here listed for their awesome contributions to this lovely fandom, im really grateful for all your work <3333333

If any of the authors here listed would rather have their work taken down from this list please let me know .

new year's resolution by @wormeo-and-juliette

Pairing: OT3 Fernando Alonso/George Russell/Lance Stroll

Lance gets the text from Fernando well into the afternoon on the first day of the year: I slept with George.

Um. What?

eagle eyed by @prettydangrotten

Pairing: OT3 Alex Albon/George Russell/Logan Sargeant

“He’s watching, you know,” Alex says, voice level and conversational, like Logan being in the room is a normal part of this experience, “he’s hard.”

i’m your number one (it’s so obvious) by @63historian

Pairing: OT3 Lewis Hamilton/George Russell/Max Verstappen

“Tell him what you want, Georgie.”

He clenches his hole just as he starts begging, “I need you to come inside me, please, Max, please, I want it so bad.”

And who is Max not to obey such beautiful cries?

positive negatives by @ctimenefic

Pairing: Alex Albon/ George Russell

George doesn’t regret that shoot, exactly.

He had for a long time. After the first high of seeing the rushes wore off; after overhearing a murmured warning in general casting, days too late; after he woke up at three am to reread the release he’d blithely signed without thinking, and spent the next four hours staring at the ceiling hoping to wake up. He’d regretted it then.

For years after, the memory of it could hit like an ice cube sliding down his spine. Always, of course, at the most inconvenient moments. When he was working, or networking, when he needed his wits about him, couldn’t afford to stutter over his words. They’d put him in white silk, or offer him wine, or he’d walk into a room with slow, warm jazz playing, and the whole excruciating mess of it all would come back. He’d learnt how to smile through it, then how not to blink at all.

June is the coldest month of the year by @beabnormal24

Pairing: Max Verstappen/ George Russell

“Just don’t be a stranger, yeah?” It doesn’t sound as empty as George would’ve expected.

Max disappears in Monaco’s breeze with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket and his head turned to the side to look at the coast following him, or it’s him who follows the coast. It’s not that simple to guess when George feels the way he does about him.

He stares at the broad expanse of his back until he’s nothing more than a distant figure just like any other person around and he can pretend that he’s no one in the middle of the world.

The blessing of anonymity, he muses, gripping at the hems of his sleeves.

All of a sudden, his chest feels quiet.

nobody else by ginnydear

Pairing: Alex Albon/ George Russell

The Mercedes garage is almost overwhelmingly busy when Alex walks through the crowds of officials there.

or... what if the world was suddenly plunged into omegaverse and everyone started presenting at once... pt two.

 table in the back by @janinaduszejko

Pairing: Alex Albon/ George Russell

“Okay, here’s the offer." Alex says. "I’m going to make you something and if you don’t like it, you don’t pay. How does that sound?”

“So I get a good meal or a free meal?” George asks. “Sounds like a no-lose scenario.”

“Keen eye, George,” Alex grins. “Figured out my terrible business sense on the first try. Alright, take it or leave it.”

 all green lights

Pairing: Alex Albon/ George Russell

Sorry mate I think you've got the wrong number

chrome wheeled, fuel injected, and steppin' out over the line

Pairing: OT3 George Russell/Lance Stroll/Fernando Alonso

Lance and Fernando have been together for over two years and it is great. It is great apart from one minor detail. They are both dominant tops and the irritation is starting to grind them down. Enter Lance's ex-whatever, George Russell.

But George is not going to be as easy to get on board as Lance and Fernando think. He will give his whole heart but you have to open it up first.

DISCLAIMER: THE FIC IS NOW ON PERMANENT HIATUS

Very common crisis (series) by crimandclove

Pairing: George Russell/ Lance Stroll

January 2024 - George finds himself single, stressed, with a set of tits & one Lance Stroll in his home.

Calls and Cats by @raewritesf1

Pairing: George Russell/Max Verstappen

Things go awry when George’s video call with the quartet is interrupted by the form of a familiar half-naked Dutch driver wielding a Bengal cat in the background.

spread before you like a picnic by @janinaduszejko

Pairing: Alex Albon/ George Russell

Now, weeks later, he thinks that was probably the reason he’d said it, why when he came back to himself and noticed that Alex had manhandled him on his stomach and was in the process of peeling George’s jeans down, his first instinct was to say, panicky: “You can’t fuck me.”

it's not about having someone to love me anymore by linearity

Pairings: Alexander Albon/George Russell, George Russell/Toto wolff

George is an omega. He kind of hates himself for it.

Brake Balance by @russilton

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton/George Russell

"Why don’t you come dance?” With me goes unspoken, and George is eyeing him with a familiar look, like he’s sure Lewis will brush him off again, but he still wants to try.

Maybe it’s the buzz of alcohol. Maybe it’s the shiny skin of a tanned collarbone showing through George’s three open shirt buttons. Maybe it’s just the adrenaline of the whole day in general, but for once, Lewis thinks that sounds like a pretty good idea.

Stop overthinking, just go with it.

Bono’s words echo pointedly around his mind. Fuck it

ode to a conversation stuck in your throat by @prettydangrotten

Pairing: Alex Albon/George Russell

They’d agreed on friends when Alex had come to collect the last of his things from George’s flat. George had been adamant about it, all uncomplicated smiles, like they hadn’t just spent six months living in each other’s pockets and having some of the most bizarrely intimate sex of Alex’s life.

And friends is a noble intention, but. Alex still only has one friend who’s sucked him off in their driver’s room.

Allow yourself this happiness by Sonnenscheintraum

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton/George Russell

i can barely breathe (when you're here loving me)

When Lewis wakes up he knows he's going into rut. He will be able to get through the rainy and cold race in Spa if he takes enough suppressants.

But what if George by his side is actually making it worse for him to keep the rut in check?

How is he supposed to keep himself under control when George looks and smells like the most delicious way and makes him want to claim him?

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton/George Russell

Lewis Hamilton may be the sweetest person who ever stepped on earth and choose not to see the truth, but he deserves so much more than a broken, thirteen years younger college student.

So George does what is best for him.

 See my Vision (tell ‘em) by @russilton

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton/George Russell

“Feeling a little desperate, sweetheart?” It’s clearly rhetorical, but George nods anyway, and bites his lip at the conflicted emotions he sees cross Lewis’ face.

He knows it’s late, closer to Monday morning than Sunday night, but it’s been so long since they’ve had freedom to do whatever they want. He loves racing with his entirety, he even loves the intensive training and strict schedules, but he doesn’t love how the need to keep his body in perfect function for a race keeps him from Lewis.

George and Lewis have three weeks break between Monza and Singapore, and they just can’t wait anymore.

[rainydayz-nstuff]

Could we get a continuation of the enemies to lovers Scarab x Reader? :eyes:

Of course!

I just saw little snippets of the last episodes and…. It’s perfect.

After the whole frozen in the ice situation, you just dipped and said “screw it, I’m messing with Prismo”

As much as you liked Scarab, you wanted to see him throw a tantrum because, and you’re honest about this, you actually want Fiona’s world to be legitimate.

You have no reason to harm her and her friends, but your job is to make sure Scarab does his job in a legal manner.

Will you report some of his mistakes?…. Nah, you’ll just tease him.

Like when he got split up into mini versions of himself.

You almost pisses yourself laughing. Prismo didn’t know what you were doing, and you couldn’t help him because Scarab had some weird feature that prohibited anyone from the outside to help him.

You lifted him out of the hot tub to show him it all.

You took pictures to use as blackmail.

You pulled out your crystal staff and made a portal right into Fiona’s apartment.

Ellis P. was inside and he screamed when you just appeared. You blew a small dust in his face which made him pass out.

You bent down and teasingly stuck a finger close to the kennel one of the mini Scarab’s was in.

“Hi sweetie. Having fun?”

You spoke in sickly sweet way that made him try to bite your finger. You pouted while pulling it back quickly.

“Don’t be like that. I thought we had something…” you pretended to be hurt before you cackled and stood up.

“Well, I’ll be leaving. Have fu-“ You were cut off by a flash of light behind you.

You slowly turned, your face frozen in shock as you saw a giant and disfigured version of Scarab. He was pissed.

You started to stutter before he cracked open the kennel his last form was in. It merged in with him before he turned back to his normal self.

“Uh….. can we talk about it?” You shrugged while your breathing quickened.

Scarab grabbed your neck, making you gasp, and he nails dug into your skin. You weakly smiled before he lifted you up and pulled you close.

“….you’re going nowhere.” He spoke with venom in his voice.

He pulled you forward and his face plates opened up. He kissed you deeply while gripping onto your skin.

You tried to grab his wrists while leaning into the kiss. Even though it seemed like he was going to kill you, you knew he wasn’t actually going to do it.

He was giving so much passion in the kiss that there was no doubt he was in love with you.

He just… sucks at the concept of love. So showing dominance over you is his way of saying ‘I want you to be mine, please like me back’.

He pulled back, his lips barely grazing yours while you panted. He studied you flushed face while you slowly opened your eyes.

“Scarab…” you whispered.

He then dove right back him, his grip around your neck disappearing as it wrapped around your waist. His fingers dug into your hips, pulling you closer.

Your one arm wrapped around his neck while the other grabbed his tie to pull his head down closer.

You had a 10 minute make out session in Fiona’s apartment.

Once he remembered what he was going to do, he looked at you before snapping his fingers.

HE PUT YOU….. IN A CUBE!

This mf put you in a tiny cube and he picked you up. He inspected it before placing a small kiss on the surface. “This is only temporary darling. I could never leave you trapped in here.”

You pounded on the walls of the cube in anger. Your vocal chords were starting to hurt because of how much you screamed.

He put you in his pocket and you couldn’t see anything. But your could hear it all.

You could hear the blows he endured and the game he was trying to cause.

Suddenly the whole world shifted and you heard him muttering small ‘no’s, each one getting louder each time.

You suddenly fell out of his pocket and you fell back in the cube. Fiona picked you up and saw tiny you inside.

“Hey kid, take me to Scarab. I gotta yell at him.”

And she proudly did. He got so flustered and embarrassed while you just screamed at him. You breathed heavily at the end since your throat was now fried.

You were let out of the cube and you crossed your arms angrily. He tries to reason and apologize, but you keep turning away from him.

He huffed before wrapping his arms around you, his chest pressing into your back. He tilts his head so he can nuzzle it into your neck.

He attempts to whisper sweet words in your ear as a way of apologizing. Your face grows flustered and you finally caved in.

“Ohh….. fine. But don’t think this will be swept under. I’m using blackmail baby!”

Okay I think this was pretty good. Think I’m getting the hang of things.

Thanks for requesting!

[peachesofteal]

hii!! idk if you’ve already talked about this but how did simon and soap meet darling?

p.s. dead disco has me in such a chokehold i reread it literally all the time💞

Hi! I'm so glad you like Dead Disco, I have loved writing it too and am really enjoying exploring their relationship. I love an opportunity to talk about my pairings and explore them a bit so I wrote something as an answer to your Q. Thank you so much!

How did the guys meeting darling? Ghost x Soap x female reader 1.2k words - no warnings/tags - takes place before Dead Disco This was not edited, just a brain to typing ramble. Sorry for any mistakes.

It was at a bar. Not the dive kind, that you were particularly fond of now, but an upscale, too fancy for you type place. The kind where they serve cocktails in thin rimmed glassware with crystal clear ice cubes and two ounce pours of whiskey that cost triple digits. 

You were there for a party, a bridal shower, of all things. Zipped into an uncomfortable dress, feet already crying from the too tall heels that you chose. The champagne soured your stomach, the fake smile you had plastered to your face slipping more and more as the minutes ticked on, the pressure of too many eyes, too many people, too many questions finally starting to wear you down. The bride-to-be was beautiful, and you were miserable. 

Not because she was getting married, of course. You were thrilled for her, proud of her for actually pulling the trigger on happily ever after even if it was something you’re not sure you believed in. She was happy and that’s all that matters. You’re a supportive friend, after all. But, you were tired, the social aspect of a gathering like that quickly overwhelming you, forcing you to slink to a table in the back where you could hide your bare feet under the pristine tablecloth and slump over in your chair, fixing your eyes on your phone so you could escape, if only for a moment. 

Your reprieve didn’t last long before a gaggle of aunts and well-meaning middle-aged women swarmed you, endless questions spouting from their mouths, inquiries about how you were, how your job was, if you were dating anyone being passed around between them like you were some science fair exhibit to be analyzed and dissected. 

You slipped away when they were distracted, fleeing the table out the side door of the banquet room and down the back stairs to where the brick patio of the street level bar was, which was open for regular business and customers, seeing as it was a Saturday afternoon. 

You met Johnny first, that day. You had turned the corner of the stairwell and nearly stumbled into him, your body skidding to a stop when you felt the cold brick on your bare feet and realized you had left your god damn shoes upstairs. He had been leaning against the wall with an almost empty beer in his hand, mohawk slightly grown out, t shirt accentuating his arms, soft shadow of stubble lining his jaw. You clocked him right away because he was beautiful, gorgeously handsome in the way that made you want to sidle right up next to him and take a closer look. There was something in his eyes, when he registered your presence at the bottom of the steps, something… hot, a heat that curved around your neck and across your throat, down to the very center of your stomach, the feeling of it awaking something desirous, something needy inside you. When he gave you a sweet smile, your knees felt light, and then he gestured to you, a sweeping hand motion that felt like an invitation to come over. 

So, you did. 

His name was Johnny. He was brilliantly charming and utterly funny, while also being extremely intelligent and cordial. He was easy to talk to, and the two of you struck up a conversation without hinderance, the flow of the back and forth actually enjoyable and not a drag like most interactions you had with men lately. He was interesting, and sweet, and sexy and you were trying really hard not to drool as he asked you questions about yourself, what you did, where you were from, who you were. You were so engrossed in him that you didn’t even see the other man, the one in the mask that had arrived to stand opposite him, until he was practically casting a shadow over you. 

He was huge. The width of his body, his neck, even his palms had your eyes subtly widening and your gaze tracing him from head to toe out in wonder, and confusion. Even though he was wearing a black cloth mask over his nose and mouth, you could make out his bone structure, the angles of his face and cheeks telling you that he certainly was beautiful underneath it, and he had a crop of sandy brown-blonde hair that contrasted his eyes, their copper brown hue refracting in the light and nearly startling you with how stunning they were. He pinned you with them, your body frozen where it stood like you were an animal, unable to flee, or speak, or formulate a sentence. You just stood there, blinking at him like you had suddenly gone dumb. Throat dry. Lips parted. 

And then, he handed Johnny one of the beers he was holding. Their fingers grazed, and Johnny’s thumb lifted, stroking along the back of masked man’s hand, an affectionate, soothing gesture that you couldn’t look away from. Something so small, so simple, communicated a million words between them within a second. 

There was something about them, something different that you couldn’t put your finger on that drew you in, pulling you closer and closer into their orbit, until the man in the mask looked down and said:

“Yer not wearin’ any shoes.” The deep, rough timbre of his voice scratched something in the back of your mind, and you felt butterflies thrash in your belly. Your body grew warm, embarrassment snaking up your spine and you took a step backwards, a hand nervously rising to find a piece of your hair to fidget with while you tried to manage a smile and explain. 

“I uh, left them upstairs. At the shower. I was at a bridal shower.” Masked man cocks his head like he’s considering your words. 

“Hurt your feet?” You nodded immediately, a tinge of relief cooling the heat of your embarrassment, and Johnny gave you a sympathetic smile before he turned to man in the mask and gave your name, the Scottish accent shifting the pronunciation so that it sounded all that more attractive. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just regarded you silently, like he was processing you, x-raying you, seeing you inside and out, trying to decide what to say next, before his voice softened and he said, “I’m Ghost.” Johnny tsked aloud and Ghost shifted, his shoulders tensing and relaxing, eyes narrowing above the mask before his chest deflated with a sigh. “Johnny.” He warned, to which Johnny rolled his eyes, and slung his arm around your shoulder affectionately. 

“What do you say you get your shoes, and we go find another bar?” You nodded your agreement immediately, not caring if these two were going to throw you over their shoulders and hide you away forever, or not. You already knew, you’d be going wherever they went. “Atta girl.” He gave your shoulder a squeeze, and you high tailed it up the stairs, pausing to look back for just a second to see him placing his hand on Ghost’s ribs, the gesture reciprocated by Ghost stepping closer and lowering his forehead to Johnny’s, an intimate glimpse that had your heart rattling in your chest. 

You were a goner.