#but i think i'll make his eyes just pure white?

[runa-falls]

what a mess~

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader cw: smut, established relationship, superhuman stamina, overstimulation, cum EVERYWHERE, 'use a condom, it's too messy X(', 'bitch stfu i'll show you messy'..., so many sheets, reader is a pushover (bc I WOULD BE TOO) wc: 1k + a/n: i um... just take this and I'll go to a corner of a room and think ab what I've done.

---

Having a superhero boyfriend is great – he gets you discounts at your favorite restaurant, he easily carries you home after a long night out at the bar, he saves you from getting kidnapped by his arch-nemesis for the fourth time this month (though isn’t that his fault in the first place?....) – but there are aspects of the relationship that you didn’t consider before. 

Apparently, with great power comes great… stamina. 

To put it plainly, Miguel’s (sex) drive is unheard of. You better clear out your schedule for the whole day because he can go for hours. And most nights, you can barely sit up after he fucks you.

You like that – or you did when you could afford to be sore every other day. You like how enthusiastic he is – how much he wants you. It makes you feel desired and beautiful. But it’s not just the intense workout you risk every time you steal a kiss that turns into more – it’s the number of times he can…finish. 

Every time you think he’s finished, he’s still hard and thrusting into you, overstimulating you until black stars start to fill your vision. 

It’s a mess in the end. 

You lay on top of him, filled to the brim, dripping all over his lower stomach and onto the sheets under you, breathing so hard you’re sure you’d rupture a lung. You feel like you’re barely conscious on the bed as your heart beats harshly against your chest from how hard you came. Hair sticks graciously against your forehead as your eyes struggle to stay open to see Miguel, who gently pulls out and watches his mess spill out of you. 

He whispers sweetly of how well you took him, how pretty you look all fucked out, how much he loves that he can turn you into a blabbering – mindless whore. Being the possessive man he is, he attempts to shove it back in, using two of his thick fingers to gather and push his essence back into you, hoping that, against all odds, it’ll take, despite the fact you take your birth control religiously. 

Of course, when he sees how your thighs shake and squeeze around his hand from the overstimulation of him fucking his fingers into you after you just came, he immediately gets hard again. 

He gazes down at you with apologetic red eyes as he bites his lip under a sharp fang, “I can’t help it when I see how wrecked your pussy is for me…”

It’s nice – it’s hot – but you end up having to change the sheets 5 times a week. He’s insatiable… well ok, you’re just as thirsty as your boyfriend, but the amount of maintenance you need for each session is ridiculous. You basically gave up washing your sheets after every fuck, and instead ordered several identical sets of bedding to make the process easier. 

Many sheets have been destroyed beyond recognition. Okay, maybe you’re being a bit overdramatic, but the amount of cum-stained sheets in your linen closet is insane. How are you supposed to hide this if you were to have guests over?!

After staring at the layers of folded-up and stained sheets that you’ve accumulated over the past few months, you decided you were going to do something about it. 

You can still have fun without the mess.

…right?

—

Miguel has you on your back at the end of the bed with your legs resting on the crook of his arms. You have on a cute little nightgown – white to symbolize purity (though what you were about to do was far from pure) – with nothing underneath. It was one you bought just to get a reaction out of him – and now you got it. 

He holds you open for him, regarding you like he would a special gift – though there’s nothing to really celebrate (unless you count his raging erection). He breathes harshly against your neck as he paints your skin with kisses and nips. You’re nearly folded in half with how closely he’s pushed against you, but you can barely recognize the mere tinge of soreness in your legs with how fluidly pleasure seems to travel from his lips down to the apex of your thighs. 

Miguel O’Hara, the strong, independent Spider-Man, is truly a mess in front of you. His once neatly ironed tie now hangs loosely around his neck, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned halfway down, and his hair a tangle of unruly curls. His fingers, now caressing your body, are already dripping in your slick from when he forced a couple of orgasms out of you right when he got home. 

You find a sense of satisfaction in the disheveled state of his appearance, relishing how his once meticulously groomed demeanor has been disrupted – how his eyes transition from their usual chocolatey brown to a striking blood red, how his lips swell sweetly with lust. 

Miguel groans deeply as he grinds his clothed hardness against your wet center, “Mm…I want you so bad.” He unbuttons and unzips his pants, sighing as he releases himself from the tight fabric. No underwear? 

“Wait, Mig." he pauses his movements, waiting patiently – prepared to do whatever you want. “Get a condom.” …Except maybe…that. 

“Condom?” He could barely hold back his sneer, but you could faintly hear the growl vibrate from his chest. 

“Mhm, we’ve been too messy lately. We can’t just keep buying new sheets every week!”

“...We could…”

“Miguel!”

“I don’t see what the problem is… this is just how it is.”

“But it’s too messy.”

“I thought my baby likes to be filled up…”

“...I-I mean, I do sometimes, but –”

“Don’t you like it when I get you all messy?” He leans in close, distracting you from denying him. “Have you dripping with me for days?” He presses closer, and you can feel his hard cock slip against your wetness, dragging against your sensitive clit. 

“Miguel.” You whine.

It’s so hard to deny this man.

“How about we just try to be more careful, hm?” He presses against you gently, nearly entering you, but not quite. It feels so good, the tip of him barely stretching past your entrance. 

“Okay…j-just this once though…” You surrender with a whisper.

[adore-laur]

SILENT TREATMENT

— harry being stubborn & regretting it

——

"Where's Harry?" 

You swear he was in the room a mere second ago. As a matter of fact, you swear he was just standing next to you playing an intense game of ping-pong while wearing only his boxers and socks.

Harry has been childishly ignoring you for the past hour by hitting the hollow plastic ball back and forth with someone from the backstage crew in complete silence. You kept stealing glances at him, hoping his expressive eyes would reveal what was irking him, but he never acknowledged you. Based on pure assumption, he's mad at you. You think he's being a bit dramatic. 

"Not sure," answers the crew member with a shrug. "He left without saying anything." 

"Great," you reply, sighing in frustration. I'll go looking for him. 

You snatch your sweatshirt from the chair in the corner and head out on a mission. Harry can't be too far, but the unfamiliar venue with mazes of hallways and covert doors could make your search quite difficult. Thankfully, plenty of workers with recognizable shirts and lanyards roam around backstage, either pushing equipment carts or having muffled conversations with people through their walkie-talkies. 

You politely raise your hand to garner the attention of an older woman casually leaning against the wall. "Excuse me, have you seen Harry Styles anywhere?" 

Her hazel eyes narrow suspiciously. "Are you a fan? How did you get back here?" 

"No, no," you say quickly with a nervous laugh, taking your specialized lanyard out from the pocket of your jeans and showing it to her. "I'm his girlfriend, and I— well, I sort of lost him." 

She walks closer and squints at the laminated card with your name and picture printed. "You lost him?" 

Heat prickles up your neck and travels to your cheeks. "Um, he's quiet. Sneaks right past me all the time." 

The woman smiles faintly. "I'm sure he does." What the hell is that supposed to mean? "I think I saw him going to the private bathrooms in the back," she adds, hiking her thumb behind her shoulder. "Hey, tell him to stop walking around in his boxers, will ya?" 

"Sure thing," you reply distractedly with a nod, not fully comprehending what she said.

After wandering down the brightly lit hallway, you eventually reach the back area of his dressing room. The smooth walls turn into rough, white-painted bricks as the opening of the communal bathroom comes into view. There's still an hour until showtime, and you wonder what Harry could be doing there. Usually, he waits until right before he has to go on stage to get ready.

You find him standing in front of the sink, a plush robe wrapped around his sulking figure as he brushes his teeth with his lucky pink toothbrush. One look at his face tells you he's not in a good mood. 

Fights with Harry tend to be over petty things that are easily forgotten the next day. Joining him on tour has caused some lingering stress since what he does, as fun as it appears to be, is still strenuous when unpredictable mishaps can occur at any moment. You can't really remember what you said today that is making him blatantly ignore you. Maybe it has something to do with jet lag, or perhaps he's just being stubborn. Either is highly possible. 

"Hi," you mutter, looming next to him. 

Harry continues brushing his teeth while avoiding eye contact with you. The air smells of spearmint and his potent cologne, but it doesn't bring you the comfort it usually would due to the palpable tension currently clouding the air. 

"You're mad at me," you say plainly, drumming your fingers along your thigh. 

He leans over the sink and spits out the residual toothpaste, then inhales heavily, almost impatiently, as he picks up his mouthwash. He grants no response and twists open the cap, taking a short swig and swishing it around in his mouth. You rest your hip against the counter and impatiently cross your arms. It doesn't feel nice when he hasn't even so much as spoken a single word to you when you've been in close quarters for the past hour. 

Since when has the silent treatment ever solved anything? 

"If you're not going to speak to me, I think I'll just go hang out in the tour bus for the night," you say, swallowing down the lump in your throat. 

Harry shrugs one shoulder without a care in the world, and you take it as your self-proclaimed cue to leave. You honestly don't have the patience or energy to start a one-sided argument right now, so with a disappointed hum, you begin walking away.

Your feet halt just before you turn the corner. "Have a good show," you mumble with burning sarcasm. 

Once you're out of his sight, you curl your fists by your head and grit your teeth, almost letting out a crazed laugh at his ridiculousness. You want to scream. He sometimes acts like such a kid, too arrogant to admit when he's sorry and too selfish to try and mend the issue before it builds into something bigger. It's terrifying to think it could become unfixable. 

After five minutes of asking around, you're led to the back parking lot, where the tour buses are lined up. The main one you ride in with Harry is guarded by two security guards. You lift your lanyard without uttering a word, and they immediately open the door.

You stomp up the stairs and throw your belongings onto the couch, trying to not let the simmering anger in your blood turn into an uncontrollable boil. No one else is around, so you shut all the interior lights off and climb into the tiny bunk bed you share with your stupidly stubborn boyfriend. The sheets are still crumpled, and his dirty socks lie by the edge. Everything smells like him, and for once, you wish it didn't. 

Exhaustion eventually kicks in, and you drift off to the distant sound of the crowd going wild inside the arena. 

——

"Psst." 

You jolt awake from the voice right next to your ear. Your hazy brain catches up to consciousness as you grumble a noise of protest. There's no need to open your eyes when you know whose body is causing the dip in the uncomfortable mattress. 

A shake is then given to your elbow. You jerk it back and hope he takes the hint. 

"Ow, bloody hell!" Harry whispers harshly. 

"Go away."

That was a bad idea. Instant regret. Harry responds by rolling on top of you, borderline knocking the air out of your lungs. You tiredly groan and push him off, his body falling next to you in the cramped space of the bunk. 

"Seriously, go away," you repeat, putting a pillow between you and him. "Stop sucking up to me and acting like everything's fine." 

Harry takes the pillow and flings it somewhere far. "Yeah, well, I don't appreciate you just leaving and not texting me your whereabouts. That scares me." 

You roll your eyes. "I told you where I'd be, yet you decided to give me the silent treatment." 

He ironically goes silent at the truth. 

"And," you continue, kicking his leg under the covers, "I don't appreciate it when you don't speak to me. It hurts." 

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, remorse leaking into his apology. I was being an idiot. I can't even remember what I was upset about." 

You slowly turn over to face him. "Me neither." 

He's freshly showered, the hood from his sweatshirt thrown over his damp hair. His face is slightly rosy from the recent steam, and his lips look remarkably soft in the minimal lighting. 

"I hated not seeing you in the crowd," he says quietly, glancing at your mouth. "It's my fault, but still... it wasn't the same without you." 

You lean forward and kiss his forehead, making a content hum vibrate in his throat. His legs intertwine with yours as he rubs under his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. 

"Please never stop talking to me," you whisper. "Even when you're annoying, I still like to listen to your voice." 

Harry smiles fondly and places his palm against yours, admiring the size difference. "You're my favorite person to talk to. Do you know that?" 

You feign a gag at his sappy statement, and he laughs before nuzzling his face into your neck and innocently tickling your sides. He eventually stops and wraps his arms around you, planting tender kisses on your exposed skin. 

His addictive scent consumes your senses, and you let yourself drown in it until sleep drapes over the both of you like a favorite childhood blanket.

——

[thatoneoverlyhornybitch]

Daddy's home🗣 | Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader

Warnings: just shameless smut, porn no plot, submissive reader, dom gojo, fingering,creampie, oral(f&mrecieving), deepthroat, facefucking, throatfucking, some degradation kinda, praise, HEAVY BREEDING KINKK

(A/n): this does not have a daddy kink sorry if thats disappointing lol i'm not comfy with that but I'm sure yk why it's named that🖤

"Hnnn~ T-toru, have I ever mentioned how... how long your fingers are?" You questioned, whining loudly despite yourself. He just chuckled in response and placed a hot kiss on your lips, tongue immediately darting for yours in a few wet sloppy mess. You practically mewled into him, pressing your core flush with his palm as his long, thin pretty finger reached places you hadn't known were there and it had you seeing stars.

"Ya feel how wet you are just from my fingers, mmmm sweetheart?" He aaked mockingly, smirking into your eyes with his pure blue eye gazing into you. You felt the urge to sink into him and never leave, his cock buried in you pumping you full of his hot steamy cum, load after load after load, no doubt knocking you up. You didn't mind the thought of that however, a family, with this gorgeous man you desperately wanted to be bred by. "I can tell what you're thinking of you little slut, and I like it, but thats for later, don't worry I'll pump you full of my babies sweetheart."

You whimpered at his words but nodded, whining as he pumped his fingers harder into you, before suddenly taking them out, leaving you empty. You whine at the loss, wanting to feel full.

He, however, surprises you, by placing his mouth on your folds, tongue diving through, licking all-over. He applied suction to your clit, finally wrapping his tongue around the little nub and rubbing, hard. You squealed with pleasure, immediately feeling that knot in your stomach preparing to unravel, though the pleasure was so intense and overwhelming, a pressure began to form as you finally reached climax on the white-haired sorcerer's long skilled tongue, squirting all over his face.

He groaned in satisfaction at having made you squirt, he grins, a cocky look on his face. "You taste so sweet, so wet and slutty, but sweet. I'll need you for my desert from now on, eh?" You whine, nodding in agreement, loving the idea of him devouring you once more. "Now, get on your knees."

You oblige, no question, immediately opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out, knowing he wanted to shove his cock down your tight throat. "Good girl, take it just like you always do." His cock slips past your lips, he immediately forces his hands through your hair and shoves as much of his cock as he can in to your mouth, hitting the back of your throat you gag a bit , but still tilt your head to give him access to your throat. He moans, and quickly shoves his cock roughly down your throat, thrusting hard and fast, seeking his own orgasm.

As he approaches his climax he pulls his cock partially out of your mouth, whimpering a bit. "Please, use your tongue, i want to finish on your cute little tongue honey." You whine immediately putting your tongue to work, getting him to his orgasm in seconds as he facefucks you while you caress his cock with your tongue. You gulp his seed down, making sure to not waste a single bit as it hit your tongue.

"Finally time for the main course, get on all fours, I'm going to shove my cock in that wet cunt of yours." He states boldly, long, thick and hard cock already in his hands. You get into position, spreading your folds to give him clear entry, gaining a good girl for your deed. He presses his tip to your entrance, looking to you just to make sure you're ready, you nod, touched by the act. He then roughly shoves ALL of him into you, balls hitting your ass, you squealed, clenching hard around the incredibly large cock, he had to be around 9 inches.

His thrusts were hard and quick, filling you entirely, your next orgasm already approaching. He groaned as you clenched around him again, ehining and writhing as you came around his cock, still pounding away at you, overstimulating you intensely and your eyes rolled back. "Stay with me now baby, gotta let you watch as I pump you full of my kids. You're gonna look so cute all swolen and plump with my babies~mmm gonna stuff you full of them..." He trailed off as his own orgasm approached, his toes curling as he gave one final thrust deep into your pussy.

You could feel the hot spurts of his seed filling you, you giggled happy he was finally breeding you perfectly. "Again, mm Satoru?" You asked, hoping he understood what you meant. He smiled, beginning you thrust right back into you, fucking his cum deep into you. "I never said we were done anyway, gonna pump you until you're overflowing and I know you'll get knocked up."

You somehow don't mind that at all. 🖤

[homestylehughes]

kiss me

pairing(s): luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: luke and his pretty girl spend a summer day in central park

warnings: none. pure fluff and cuteness.

wc: 647

an: hiiii loves!! i kept having this thought about luke last night and i decided to write it LOL. i'm a sucker for cute and soft luke. it's a short little baby fic but i love it. i hope you all enjoy it!! like and reblog if you do!! as always much love <3.

happy reading <3

The warm summer breeze moves past Luke and I as we walk through Central Park, enjoying a soft summer day. 

“And one vanilla cone for a pretty lady” Luke dramatically says from beside me, handing me the sweet treat on the cone. 

“Thank you kind sir” I giggle back, before wrapping my tongue around the sweet treat, internally moaning at the taste. 

“Good?” Luke asks, chuckling at me, as he watches me eat the desert. 

“Mhm!” I mumble back, mouth full of ice cream. Luke replies with a smile, grabbing his warm hand in mine as we begin to walk further into the park. 

The bright sun litters over the vibrant green trees that litter all around the park, the slight breeze causing them to sway as if they're dancing. Flowers of all types add color and more life to the park, the scene around us is beautiful, like something out of a painting.

I'm not really sure how we ended up here today. Luke wanted to take an impromptu trip to New York, and now we’re here, and I'm not complaining.

Luke looks so amazing in the sun. The way it highlights his chestnut brown curls. Seeing how his mussels contract under the white shirt he chose to wear together is enough to make my mouth water. He's a sight I'll never get used to seeing. 

“Are you okay over there pretty girl?” 

Luke asks beside me, breaking me out of my daydream.

 “Yeah I'm fine” I say beaming up to him, flashing him a sweet smile. “Just thinking about and how lucky I am” I follow. 

“Oh, who knew my pretty girl was such a sap for me” 

“Hey now, don't be mean. I was trying to be cute and admit my love for you and you just bullied me." I say turning on my heel to throw away my cone wrapper. 

“I was jokinggggg, come here '' Luke says, grabbing my wrist, pulling me back towards him. “You better be,” I say with a small pout on my lips. 

Luke chuckles at my face, “you're so cute” he says before leading me down the trail again. We walk in silence for a few moments, taking in the view around us. 

“It's so pretty out here today” i say looking at luke, “thank you for taking me here today”, “you're welcome pretty girl” he says looking at me 

“I feel like I haven't, we haven't seen each other a lot recently, and I wanted to take my pretty girl to a pretty place.” 

Luke's words have my face heating up instantly, he never fails to make me feel loved and special. “Now who's the sap?” I say playfully, nudging my elbow into his side as we continue walking. 

“Wowwwww. Okay i see how it is' ' he says with a dramatic sigh.

 “You know I'm kidding” I say, pulling his arms, so he's now standing in front of me. 

“I love you” I softly say looking into his eyes.

“I love you more” he counter,

 “impossible.'' I say looking back at him with narrowed eyes. 

“Shut up” Luke laughs at me. 

“No, you shut up” I sat tilting my head to the side, waiting for his next move. 

“Oh really?” he says, taking a step and half closer to me. 

“Mhm, what are you going to do about it?” he says, tilting his head down closer to my face. 

“Kiss me” I say, not even a beat later, I feel his warm hands cupping my cheeks pulling me into a sweet kiss. My arms circled around his neck, pulling him closer to my body. 

Luke pulls away from my lips softly, “I'll never stop talking if you always shut me up with a kiss.” he says in a teasing tone. 

“Oh shut up” I mumble back, 

“oh I will” is all Luke says before pullin me back for another kiss. 

[narcissistshandler]

You don't have to take this if you don't want to but can I please ask for a yandere sae x brother reader

Where sae gets jealous and shows his brother who he belongs to

If you're uncomfortable with incest feel free to ignore

𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘'𝗦 𝗔 𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗬 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦 𝗠𝗘

pairing. itoshi sae x male reader

warnings. yandere sae, step-incest, dubious consent, possessive and aggressive behavior, slight threat, younger brother!reader, amab!reader, dry humping, semi-public

a/n. you definitely can, thanks for the request ♡

You brought the glass to your mouth once more, the cold in contrast to the liquid that ran down your throat, burning all the way. You had already lost track of how many shots you had had, something you normally wouldn't do, but when you recognized the reddish-brown hair under the multicolored lights and the familiar green eyes scanning around stopped on you, you immediately knew you needed alcohol to deal with what was to come.

"What are you doing here?" It was the first thing Sae asked you, his tone rigid as if it were you who had walked into the bar and found him there and not the other way around.

You simply raised the glass in response, muscle in your jaw clicking in a attempt to contain your anger.

Sae had been impossible the last few days. Acting so strangely that he had even managed to shake up your relationship with Rin, who wasn't happy with how Sae seemed to think that since you were now once again single from a relationship that ended very quickly, too quickly, you should now be 'taken care'. Sae's care of course included you not leaving the house and spending every possible moment with him, which wasn't even viable.

"I thought I told you to stay home," he said, looking tall and imposing as he stood next to the bench you sat on. He reached out a hand and covered the glass to stop you from continuing to drink. "If you wanted to drink just tell me, we could do it. Alone. At home."

"Sae, I'm not your little dog to keep on a leash. If I want to go out I'll go out, if I want to drink I'll go and if I want to go on dates, guess what? I don't need your permission." The last words left your mouth just in time for a person to approach you from the other side.

"You-" Sae began, but stopped when he saw the new presence preparing to sit on the free bench next to you.

"Sorry it took so long, there was a huge line at the bathroom," they said, the bright smile on the lips that didn't fade even in the face of the hardness on Sae's pretty face. "And you are?"

Even with the alcohol coursing through your system and slowly rising to your head, you would be able to notice the change in the air under any situation. Sae's green eyes were poisonous, seeming to pierce through the soul of your mysterious encounter. He leaned in close, chest pressing against your shoulder in a movement that you initially thought was to assert superiority in that strange mania your older brother possessed, soon however, you noticed that he seemed to be trying to get a clear view of their faces under the neon lights of the bar.

A warning light triggered in your brain.

"Sae," you tried, not even sure what you were trying to avoid.

"Get out," Sae growled, teeth clenched.

"What?" They looked confused, the smile becoming weak and uncertain as they looked from you to Sae. "Who is this, [name]?"

"It’s none of your business who I am, get lost or or I'll make you do it myself," Sae spat out each word and you watched his knuckles turn white where he pressed them onto the glass cup in your hand.

"Sae," you repeated, your own voice hovering in that harsh tone of reprimand. Your free hand grabbed Sae's arm, trying to keep him under control in a purely instinctive action. You knew that anger shining in Sae's eyes well, you knew it was an anticipation of disaster.

Your night date however didn't know Sae and despite seeming pushed back by his words, they didn't seem as scared as you. "Why don't we go somewhere else, [name]?" they asked, standing up and reaching towards you. "Somewhere quieter-"

As everything always seemed to happen when Sae was involved, the situation quickly turned ugly and messy.

Even so close to your brother, feeling his chest rise and fall against your arm, you didn't react quickly enough to prevent him from pulling the glass from between your fingers and practically bending over your lap, slamming the object against the side of the head of your encounter. The glass shattered, alcohol and blood running down their pale faces.

A single blow was enough to make them stagger. The music pulsed, swallowing the chaos in its darkness and multicolored acid lights. Your reaction wasn't agile enough, arms grabbing Sae's waist and pulling him back and against you. He ended up sitting uncomfortably on your lap, one knee on your leg and the other foot resting on the floor. The bench under the combined weight creaked and shook, threatening to knock you both to the floor.

A commotion ensued, people slowly taking notice of the scene, screams and voices rising in the air. Soon the bar's bouncers approached to guide you and Sae out among the shaking, dancing bodies, but not before you saw your older brother's lips curled proudly as he saw the blood diluted with alcohol forming a puddle on the floor and the look of pure shock on their face.

"What the fuck, Sae?!" you exploded, pushing him against the dirty wall on the side of the bar you thought you could never go back to. "Are you crazy?!"

"This was all your fault," he said, calmly as he rubbed the red stain that melted into the pure white of his shirt. His eyes looked black, clouded with a darkness that made you tense. "And since I saved us from a problem, why don't you be more grateful and thank me?"

“You’re really crazy,” you stated.

"Maybe. But that's your fault too. I told you to stay home, where I could keep an eye on you, take care of you, keep filthy people like that from getting their hands on you. And what did you do, [name], uhm?"

You shook your head.

"Wait until Rin hears about this."

The choice of words seemed to be a trigger and Sae stepped towards you, graceful as a feline. "Rin, Rin, Rin, that's all you know how to say," he said, stopping so close to you that you could feel his uneven breathing. "What is it between you two? Are you fucking him? Or is he fucking you?"

You looked at Sae in disbelief and when all that confronted you back was sharp steel, anger bubbled in your chest. "What the fuck are you talking about? Don't be gross, he is our brother. Rin-"

Before the words could leave your mouth, Sae's body slammed against yours, so violently that it forced you to step back. Your back hit the wall. Confused, shocked and angry, you looked at your older brother, expecting a punch or anything else that rivaled the anger on Sae's face. Instead, his mouth crashes against yours, teeth meeting and pain immediately piercing through your jaw.

With alcohol clouding your senses and anger heating your veins, it takes you a few full seconds to process the contact. Sae's hands grab your face, fingers digging painfully into your cheeks as he moves his lips against yours in a way that could only be described as angry.

That was his brother. And he was kissing you like he hated you.

"I hate the sound of his name in your mouth," Sae mouths each word against your mouth, forcing you to swallow the sound of them. "I hate everything about him and I hate everything about you even more."

"What? Sae-" you're genuinely confused by the sudden change of scenery, trying to move away, but with Sae against your front and the wall at your back, there's nowhere to run.

"Shut up," he orders in a growl, wet tongue licking from your lower lip to your upper lip. "Shut up and let me kiss you, that's the least you owe me, the least."

And you, against all rationality, against all the tangle of questions and doubts and confusion in your mind, surrender to the order.

Sae immediately picks up on the submission in your body language and with a little sound of laughter that haunts the dark alley, he sticks his tongue inside your hot mouth, about to ravage you.

You're tense, arms lying at your sides not knowing what to do and your mouth hard under Sae's violating ministrations. He doesn't care though. Sae seems to be having the time of his life, tongue exploring every corner of your mouth, slapping against yours, body pressed against yours from chest to crotch.

The heart was beating fast in the ribcage, sighs and heavy breathing filled the air, then a moan resounded — these coming from you or Sae, your mind couldn't distinguish. You two were so close, Sae seemed to desperately want to merge into you, that later, when you were sober, it could scare you, but not now, so drunk that you thought maybe you were staggering.

You closed your eyes, trying to pretend that it was someone else kissing you. The smell that filled your nostrils however was the characteristic perfume of your older brother, the voice echoing against your mouth could not belong to anyone else and the fingers, stuck in your face, nails digging into your skin, was very purposeful, very familiar and possessive to belong to anyone else. Everything screamed Sae.

"Who are you thinking about?" he asked, separating his mouth from yours, as if he could read your thoughts.

Your chest rose and fell, panting after the aggressive kiss, still feeling the ghost of his tongue against yours. "No one. You."

Apparently happy with the answer, Sae kissed you again.

There was an insistent bulge pressing against your thigh and when Sae slammed into you and the harsh friction of jeans against jeans scratched your skin, in the blur haze, reality hit you. Oh, no.

You pulled your mouth away from his, trying to move away from the firm fingers on your face that tried to pull you back. "Sae, this is going too far," you warned, tongue running over the words.

It was one thing to kiss, here in the dark and so drunk that you already had a perfect excuse to pretend not to remember anything tomorrow. But this, this was a lot, it was crossing all the lines and you didn't want to go to whatever was on the other side once you crossed them.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Sae repeated, sounding ecstatic, but you knew it wasn't from alcohol. His fingers moved, hand grabbing both sides of your face and his index and middle fingers digging into your mouth to shut you up. You felt his other hand reaching between your bodies and then, his hot, bare member released to press against your leg.

The alcohol had become an oily pool swirling in your stomach, leaving you dizzy and sick. Part of your mind didn't even know if all this was real or maybe you were passed out at the bar after drinking too much. Your hands squeezed Sae's hips, the waist of his loose pants allowing you to feel the warm bare skin. Why did he seem so real then?

No, don't go there. Don't think, don't question.

You closed your eyes and let your head fall back, the thud of the crash passed right through you. All you could feel was Sae's body against you, hot like a living fire, the little sounds he made as he rocked against your leg. Like a damn stray dog, you thought, wry and sharp. His fingers were sprawled against your tongue, the taste of salt heavy on your taste buds. Sae, Sae, Sae. He was everywhere.

"I hate you so much, you're so carefree and clueless-" His voice echoed through your ears, breathless. A groan interrupted him and his hips tensed as the dripping tip of his member rubbed against your groin. "And you are hard when you should hate it and the next time you disobey me I'm going to rip your dick off... oh- I-I swear I will, [name]."

You paid no attention to the threat, to his dark tone, trying to ignore that your body was reacting to all this rubbing with your older brother and that your cock felt damn sore trapped in its tight confines. You could feel every movement of Sae's hips beneath your fingers, the muscles working in slow, hard thrusts, his dick dripping against the entire front of your pants.

Sae was lost in his ramblings, seeming delirious with pleasure between confessions of love and hate and desire. I knew you were mine since the day my parents brought you home. The words hit you somewhere deep, or maybe, it was just the shock of the contact of Sae's bare shaft rubbing against yours, giving you a pleasure so deep that you wanted to refuse.

This wasn't right, you knew, even as the involuntary sounds left your mouth and were muffled by Sae's digits, feeling the slippery mess growing between your legs. Even with the need making you roll your hips back against his, meeting him halfway with each thrust, so that you were soon shamelessly grinding against each other in the dark alley, the pain of the raw scratch becoming mild and discarded.

You knew you had to stop this madness, but you couldn't muster enough strength, you didn't even know if you wanted to.

"More." One of you two asked, already on the edge of that precipice. Maybe you, maybe Sae. Maybe both. In any case, you both obeyed, hitting against each other with more urgency and need.

Sae sunk his teeth into the side of your neck, rocking erratically as his cock exploded, spilling all over your leg. "Oh, [name]," he groaned against your skin. Shame gnawed at your insides, chest rising and falling rapidly and your member throbbing, envious of Sae's release, feeling him ride out his orgasm with little sharp gasps. You stay completely still, mortified and with your brother's cum cooling on your jeans, where a noticeable stain was sure to be.

Your mouth was open around Sae's fingers, gasping for air and saliva running down your chin. You fought the voice in your ear that told you to bring Sae's hand to your hardness and beg him to touch you. Even under alcohol intoxication, you thought it was a good enough punishment to walk home with your cock hard, denied release and with evidence of your weakness stinging and burning from head to toe.

[halaxia]

— the language of flowers 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 the jjk boys

❥ featuring | itadori yuji, fushiguro megumi, inumaki toge, okkotsu yuta, gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, kamo choso, and mahito ❥ cw | mostly fluff, unrequited love in megumi’s (sorry), brief mentions of violence in mahito’s ❥ note | reposted from my old blog, rewrote some stuff :) also not proofread lol don't come for me for typos/stuff that doesn’t make sense i'll edit it in the morning!!! also some of these are ooc i know i don’t wanna talk about it :,(

❀ ITADORI YUJI : DAISY — INNOCENCE, LOYAL, LOVE, AND PURITY.

Yuji's love was akin to that of a day in mid-spring when sweet birdsong filled the air and the smell of flowers wafted through the atmosphere as the trees rustled with a gentle breeze passing by. Yuji's love brought you peace, contentment; it was kind, gentle, and welcoming, and it felt like home. Anything you could ever want, ever need, Yuji tried to provide you with it to the best of his ability. Meeting his affectionate gaze never failed to bring a smile to your lips and warm your cheeks, much like the sun would on a beautiful day.

Your love was pure—Yuji didn't care for your flaws or imperfections, nor did you for his. All that mattered was that, after a long, tiring day of exorcising curses or enduring gruelling training from your seniors or sensei, you could find solace in the arms of each other.

— After your first date, Yuji gifted you a crisp, fresh, white daisy, and would continue to do so whenever he noticed the ones he'd given you prior begin to wilt. Now, though, he is sure to get you one each day before seeing you; they're becoming a small bouquet of clean, white flowers on your dresser in a crystal vase next to a framed photo of the two of you.

❀ FUSHIGURO MEGUMI : GARDENIA — SYMBOL OF SECRET LOVE.

Megumi loved you, and you loved him, too, but not in the way he so craved.

Passing smiles and lingering embraces were never enough to quell his ever-growing love for you. Megumi wanted nothing more than to see the look in your eyes when he confessed his feelings to you, to let you hold his aching heart in your hands and watch you handle it with care, to hear you whisper the four words he'd been dreaming of hearing leave your lips; "I love you too."

How he longed to kiss you, feel the way your lips slotted perfectly against his and taste the fruit-flavoured chapstick he always saw you applying. He wanted to hold your hand when you were scared, tuck your hair behind your ear and tell you that he would always be there for you, that everything would be okay as long as he was by your side.

It hurt him, not being able to show you just how much he loved you. He swore to himself that one day he would be honest with you, let his mind step aside and let his heart take over. That day, however, had yet to come.

— Megumi's eyes always fall on the gardenias arranged neatly by the exit as he leaves the store with you by his side. Next time, he thinks. I'll give them one next time. Deep down, he knows that next time will never come.

❀ INUMAKI TOGE : WHITE ROSE — SECRECY, SILENCE, INNOCENCE, AND CHARM.

What you adored most about the love you and Inumaki shared was the innocence of it all; warm, comforting hugs after tiring missions, stolen kisses in empty corridors, giggly nights spent together in each other's rooms after everybody else had retreated to their rooms to sleep.

Nobody else knew about what you and Inumaki shared, but the two of you preferred it that way. The love you two had was secret, hidden away from all but the chirping crickets and hooting owls that surrounded you on those warm summer nights spent together on the roof of Jujutsu High.

Your love was pure, innocent, perfect, and you wouldn't trade it for the world.

— Inumaki never fails to greet you with a smile, peppering your face with kisses just as the door shuts behind him. He places his fingertips on your eyelids, a silent instruction to close them, before sliding the stem of a white rose behind your ear. You leave it there for the rest of the night, and before Inumaki is about to return to his room, just as the sun kisses the horizon, he gingerly removes it from where it had found a home behind your ear and places it on your nightstand, beside it, a note written in his distinct scrawl: "sleep well, my flower." He leaves silently, though not before placing a gentle kiss on your temple.

❀ OKKOTSU YUTA : LILY OF THE VALLEY — RETURNING OF HAPPINESS.

Yuta felt himself begin to regain his humanity after becoming acquainted with you. He could finally begin to appreciate life for what it was—he would smile as the warm summer sun kissed his cheeks, close his eyes and relish in the natural sounds of nature, a breeze sweeping delicately through the trees, the sounds of birds singing happily to one another. He felt present, he felt alive, and for that, he had you to thank.

You were the one who showed him what a joyous, content life could look like, and it was because of you he, for the first time since his childhood, felt happy. Every time he felt your lips against his, heard your harmonious laugh and saw your smile that never failed to warm his heart, he was reminded of his reason to try every day—you.

— Yuta is sweating bullets the first time he asks you out on a real date (Panda, Inumaki, and Maki all insisted that the two of you spending time together during a class outing barely counted as a date). When he knocks on the door of your room and sees the grin on your face the moment you lay your eyes upon the bouquet of lily of the valley he held in his shaking hands, he could feel his anxieties almost immediately melt away. Since then, he's made it a tradition to greet you with those same flowers before each date—he can never get tired of seeing you smile.

❀ GOJO SATORU : DELPHINIUM — OPEN HEART AND ARDENT ATTACHMENT.

Satoru didn't let just anyone in—despite his bubbly exterior and friendly (although irritating to some) exterior, he was rather particular about who he let take a stroll through his aching heart. At the beginning of your relationship, he, of course, welcomed you with open arms and loved you wholeheartedly; he made you feel like you were the only person in the whole world who mattered to him. You, however, could feel the distance at which he kept you—he was open, but only enough so that you wouldn't question whether or not he trusted you with his secrets.

It wasn't until further into your relationship that he finally began to feel as though he could further drop his guard around you and shed his (sometimes) forced sincerity. It started slow at first, with Satoru telling you short stories of his youth and his friends from his past. He would tell you just enough that you were practically dying to know more, but you never pushed, not once.

One night, however, when a spring thunderstorm left the roads far too dangerous for you to drive home, you spent the night at his, and just like the ferocity of the downpour which transpired outside, all of Satoru's feelings poured out; his fear of becoming attached to you just as he once was with Suguru, how he was afraid of loving you with his whole heart lest he had to hurt you, leave you in the same way he did his best friend. It was the first time you'd seen him cry.

Although he expected you to shy away, leave him after seeing his vulnerability and realize that The Strongest was nothing more than a weakling who couldn't so much as get over the death of his best friend, that he was only a child who'd been forced to grow up far too quickly, you embraced him and told him you'd love him no matter what.

— Satoru loves to place the heads of delphiniums around your home whilst you're at work. You were vaguely annoyed by it at first, scolding him (though with no spine) for making a mess of your place of living. One day, though, you find yourself smiling at the violet-blue buttercup staring you in the face from the inside of your medicine cabinet. Satoru makes sure to hide extra flowers for you to come across whenever he has to go on long missions, leaving you something of his for you to find so you "don't miss him too much". You feel your heart swell with love each time you find another flower.

❀ GETO SUGURU : ZINNIA — LASTING AFFECTION, DAILY REMEMBRANCE, AND GOOD MEMORIES.

You and Suguru were textbook high school sweethearts—spending your days together outside of classes, holding hands or locking pinkies whenever you were in the vicinity of one another, watching the sun rise and set together. You were practically made for each other, and as grossed out by you as everyone else was, they couldn't deny that fact. You and Suguru were undeniably, irrevocably in love with each other.

That's why his betrayal left such a dark stain of hurt on your heart, so full of him that you weren't sure you could call it your own anymore. Waking up to a cold, empty bed that you once shared, buying him things you think he'd like just for them to gather dust on your dresser—not one day went by where you didn't think of Suguru and the curse of love he'd left with you, gnawing away at your heart as a constant reminder of not only what once was, but what could have been.

You never held any hatred for the boy who was a traitor to Jujutsu Society, the one who would meet your lips with a sweet kiss each morning, night, and any time in between, who would dance with you in your room to a song sung by himself to cheer you up after a particularly gruelling day. You remembered nothing but the good things, and you could only hope he remembered you, too.

— Suguru has a bouquet of zinnia kept in a delicate vase next to a photo of the two of you on a small table in the corner of his room. He finds himself smiling as his eyes land upon them, spritzing them with a bit of water if he finds that they're drying out, replacing them upon noticing the petals begin to wilt. With each spritz of water, he remembers everything the two of you shared, both the good and the bad—now, all that's left of the two of you is a fond memory.

❀ NANAMI KENTO : LILY — PURITY OF THE HEART AND REFINED BEAUTY.

Kento was a tired man who devoted himself to his work, so much so that he never really had the time to let himself think about anything but an upcoming project or deadline he had to meet—that was until you managed to worm your way into his heart.

Your innocence was what initially drew him in, your gentle gaze and soft hands clean of sin. Your ignorance, at first, bubbled a sense of annoyance from deep within his chest, but only after pondering his feelings did he realize he did not resent you, but envied you, your purity and kind-heartedness.

If he was unable to live a life of comfort, of happiness, then he could at least keep you safe from the angry claws of the cruel world. The feeling of solace Kento so craved, he found in you.

— No matter how tired he was after a long day at work, once a week, Kento always makes sure to pick up a bouquet of lilies for you before returning home. Seeing your eyes light up and face break out into a smile always manages to brighten his day, too, no matter how exhausted he's feeling; if you're happy, then he is, too.

❀ KAMO CHOSO : GLADIOLUS — REMEMBRANCE, FAITHFULNESS, AND SINCERITY.

No matter what time or day, Choso's thoughts were clouded with nothing but the thought of you. He was undeniably infatuated with you, from the way your fingers ran through his hair on a lazy day to the way your shampoo and perfume always seemed to match. There wasn't a moment in his life where he didn't think of you.

Choose was sincere in his feelings for you—when the words "I love you" fell from his lips, he swore that, leading up to that moment, nothing he'd ever said held as much truth as did that declaration.

— Choose gifts you a small arrangement of gladioluses, along with a small note attached to the metallic string holding them together. Written in his messy scrawl is a short message about how he adores you so, all wrapped up with a small, asymmetrically-drawn heart and a dopey smiley face. You keep the note in the drawer of your bedside drawer and find yourself looking at it when you're missing him.

❀ MAHITO : LAVENDER — LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT.

With Mahito, it wasn't so much love at first sight as it was intrigue.

You weren't afraid of him the very first time he'd appeared before you, nor when he'd turned the two attackers attempting to shake you down of your valuables into faceless, disgusting curses—hell, you'd even asked him to walk you home. What kind of a person wouldn't be afraid of him? Who could do such a thing?

That's why Mahito was so utterly fascinated by you.

He began frequenting your apartment, something which caught you by surprise the first time he did so (you thought he was an intruder and threw a tv remote at him, he thought it was funny), but after a while, you began to grow used to his somewhat eerie presence always lurking behind or beside you—you found your apartment feeling almost empty on the days where he didn't show up.

You craved the moments when he would appear beside you, plopping down on your couch next to you and completely disregarding your evident exhaustion following a hard day at work to ask you incessant questions about what you'd done that day or if you'd missed him (he did so only to see the way you grew flustered and furiously deny his proposition). Feeling a sudden presence behind you as you typed away tirelessly at your computer, stopping only when you felt his hands fall on your tense shoulders and feeling your face grow extremely warm upon hearing his sultry voice purr in your ear: "Only relaxed when I'm around, huh?", you could no longer deny the voice in your head telling you that you liked having the curse for company.

You enjoyed having him around, however unnerving he was, and with each night that he found himself at your apartment, Mahito realized he enjoyed being around you, too.

— Mahito once asked you why you liked to keep a vase of flowers in the main room of your home; What's the point of taking care of something without a soul, much less put in the effort to keep it alive? It gives you a sense of responsibility, you tell him. If you find yourself too tired to take care of yourself, you can at least find happiness in the small flowers that relied on you to live. One day, he notices the petals growing dry and lifeless, and after coming home one night from work, plagued with exhaustion, you're pleasantly surprised to see the purple flowers replaced, flourishing and blossoming once again. Although you don't know why he did so—you seldom know why Mahito does anything, really—you can't help the smile making its way onto your face at the thought of the blue-haired curse who placed them there.

[hoseoksluna]

STORY | knj

pairing: soft dom!namjoon x reader

genre: smut

word count: 7.8k

summary: yours and namjoon’s story is a bit more perverted than traditional.

warnings: serious big dick namjoon, rough touches, hair pulling, use of pet names and titles, dom/sub dynamics, horny namjoon can't help but palm himself:(, desperation, masturbation, spanking, praising, tit slapping, nipple play, teasing, oc and namjoon not being comfortable with certain practices, playful orgasm denial, oral sex (m. and f. receiving), rimming && ass play :3, cum eating yum yum, tit fucking, orgasm countdown fuck

note: smut is so fucking difficult to write but i loved every second of it. i love writing about namjoon, he just makes me feel so safe. this is purely my fantasy with him and i'll probably dream about this for a long, long time. please, take your time reading this as it's pretty long. i hope you enjoy it and that it makes you dream like it made me dream. as always, let me know what you think in the comments, like the post and if you want to—reblog, but i won't pressure you angels <3. love you guys so much, thank you for all the love. kisses!

side note: i miss namjoon and i wish he were here. all i can do is watch his lives and pretend he never left for the military.

Namjoon makes himself comfortable on the wooden chair before you.

The scene is set. Like a mermaid bathing in the sun, you rest your elbows on the cold rim of the ivory bathtub. Small surges of violet-tinted water, perfumed with your scent, blanket your body in a thin layer of glittery sheen. They kiss the tiger stripes along the curve of your bottom as it rolls over, passing by the dip in the small of your waist, breathing in your patchouli fragrance in greeting. The bath bomb, cornered by your knees, sizzles and spins, the width of the tub allowing your form to float like a little fish in the open sea as copiously as you please.

A gift from your loving boyfriend. Both the clawfoot, and the bath bomb.

The scene expands. Your Eric slouches in his seat, balancing his greatest and most stellar possession on top of his lap with one hand while he runs the other through his silver mane. He fits perfectly in the picturesqueness of the background. Soft orange and chocolate tiles zig zag behind his back, transposing him momentarily into a sunlit illustration, where he rests in the shade of a palm tree on a faraway beach. Reads the book to pass the time as he waits for you to emerge from the waters. Sets it down on his lap as soon as his gaze catches yours. Periwinkle clams for a bra, panties thin and translucent from the oncoming waves, you rest your front on the sand. He smiles down at you and you know for a fact you won’t be able to get on your feet. Might have to learn how to walk, too.

You keep this picture in your heart. Mentally, you rip out the page. Fold it and tuck it somewhere within you to keep it safe.

Legs outstretched by the sides of the tub, clad in slacks in the muted color of a persimmon, it’s almost as though you’re propped on his lap. Sporting a simple white button-down, sleeves rolled, you’re close enough to touch the material if you so much as wished so. From his angle, Namjoon sees nothing but the roundness of your eyes through the brownish rims of his glasses, hair unkempt in their dampness as the short paper thin layers frame your flushed face in such a celestial way. If he were to lean over, it’d be a different kind of book.

The one in the clasp of his hand isn’t a tale as old as time.

It’s one of your favorites. An existential story that ridicules the traditional. A transfusion of liveness to a certain forgotten room of your heart. The unlit one while the others brim with sunlight, with the golden sepia projection of the contents of the fairytales you love so much made into stop motion. A coloring book of some sort, hues fitting into the lines by your helping hand—the attention of your eyes. 

Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka. The book that sweeps away all those cobwebs in that chamber. Makes it less lonely.

It’s all you had talked about on your dates when you and Namjoon first started dating, having been reading it at the time. You had confided in him that the writer was the only person who understood you without ever learning your name, without familiarizing himself with the subtleties of your calamitous life.

No one has ever shared something so vulnerable with him, especially not on the first date. Not that he’d gone on many, but the few that fell into his grasp were hell to get through. Insufferable, to say the least. Absolutely superficial.

He went home in the rain thinking of you. Not for boyish reasons. But for reasons of literary character, of melancholy nature that squeezed his long-unexpressed heart in perpetuating intervals too consistent for his liking. Filled it with a nectar bubbling with a newly blooming love for books, with a sudden longing to be found within the words. His body decided for him that it was yours. Yours to teach again how to read between the lines.

The scene breaks out of the margins on the page.

“Is the water warm enough?”

The idea constructed by his own geniality, it’s by his will that you’re basking in your bare femininity before his eyes. Idleness lingered in the living room between the pair of you, the flimsy curtain by your balcony lifting and falling in a little dance as the cold air perfused the place with the drowsiness of winter. Pulling his eyes away from the TV to sink a soft kiss into your hair, Namjoon muttered into your ear: “How about I draw you a bath and read to you for a little bit?”

You said nothing. The click of your phone turning off and your hasty movements to untangle yourself from the warmth of his limbs answered him for you. Leaving your clothes as a trail for him to follow, you gave him a glimpse of your ass, arched and pointed in the draft before you ran away. Before he scolded you with his index finger like a father, raising to his feet to close the balcony door.

In two seconds he joined you in the bathroom. Leaned against the doorframe as you circled a pink roll-on lip oil you’ve been obsessed with lately around the perimeters of your lips. The one that makes them look bigger, juicier. That makes them more fun to kiss and toy with. The one that leaves his length sticky once playtime is over. You seem to cast aside little trinkets of yourself for him to collect everywhere you go.

Tits pushed towards each other while you slightly bent over the vanity sink, tapping the excess into the fullness of your mouth, Namjoon palmed himself. The tiredness from work earlier weakened his self-control to the point of unrestrained indulgence. And the plumpness of your ass just encouraged it.

You fluffed your hair and Namjoon ran the bath. Disappeared into the kitchen for a moment to retrieve the purple bath bomb from the plastic bag on the counter, one that he got from the convenience store for you. Dragon fruit and hibiscus. Thought of the twinkle that would sparkle beneath your lashes upon seeing it. Wasn’t disappointed when you exceeded his expectations.

Having seen it in the mirror, almost microscopic and round in his big palm, you turned on your heel and burst into giddiness as he took off the plastic packaging with his teeth. You pouted in gratefulness when he showed it to you. 

“You planned this, didn’t you?”

You hugged him, locking your hands behind the nape of his neck. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t, and he told you so. A bit hoarsely, though.

Namjoon struggled not to moan. Groaned a little when he felt the curvature of your belly against his hardness and the pointed nubs of your tits beneath his pecs. Managed to conceal it, thankfully, by clearing his throat and by allowing an authentic grin to bloom on his dimpled face at your joy. Thanked the heavens for all the bath bombs in the world.

He placed it in your much smaller palm for you to plop it into the increasing water. Watched your eyes widen at the gilded glitter spreading around. Spurred you to get in. Held your hand as you lifted one limb, then the other. Knelt by you as you engulfed yourself in the violet tinge, your hair swirling around you, silky and ethereal, coming to a stop at the top of your head to fix a splendid crown for such a princess like yourself.

Namjoon turned off the tap while you rested your back against the curved wall of the tub. You swooshed your hands around, gathering the glitter into the fine lines of your palms. Looked up at him in elation, the twinkle doing its thing in the glossiness of your eyes, and smiled. Namjoon smiled back at you. His hand reached out to your chest in a fervent need to touch you. The glitter adorned your chest with its perfect speckles and they resurfaced when you arched your back in response. Clung to his palm in the middle of your tits, held on tighter as he took a detour to your chin by brushing across your sensitive nipple to hear your little mewls because if he made a sound, then you must, too. Because if he was horny, he must get you on the same page as well. Fairness is very important to Namjoon.

He squeezed your breast hard. Pinched your nipple between his thumb and the knuckle of his index finger in broken intervals, similar to little dashed lines of Morse code. You imagined he was telling you something through that secret language as you closed your eyes during an intense wave of pleasure coursing down your body, and perhaps he truly did because he pulled your legs apart harshly when you pressed them together. Punished you by lightly slapping your tit—the same one he abused with those firm touches—the force splashing you in the face with violet pearls. All as if you disobeyed the command he transmitted wordlessly.

The command possibly being: Only I will give you the release you need when I decide it’s time.

You bit your bottom lip to suppress the neediness erupting in you. Namjoon wrapped his hand around your throat and you dragged his rolled sleeve further up his arm, so it wouldn’t have gotten soaked in the water. He smeared your lip oil just because he wanted—just because he could, scattering the rosy tint around your mouth messily. He took advantage of the aftermath of his punishment and collected those tender beads, now translucent upon your carmine skin. Not with the thumb as you expected him to, but using the pillows of his lips, he kissed the round bulb on your cheek. It melted on the puffy surface when he withdrew. He looked you in the eye for a mere beat of time before he lowered to your other cheek to collect another trinket. None of the corners of your mouth were overlooked, not even the button of your nose. He peppered those kisses to erase the harshness of his selfishness, supporting your lifted chin with his long thumb beneath it, still sticky from the consistency of the lip oil, apologizing, smoothing down his sternness until you giggled.

Once he cleaned you, Namjoon returned the digit to your smudged mouth, delicious in his sight due to the essence of sloppiness that gets his length even harder in his pants. He presses the pad against it, already craving your tongue. You kissed it, a thank you for his softness, before you granted him the access. Tongue toying with the tip, you said hello in the mother language of the love stored in your bodies for each other. Wrapped both of your hands around his wrist. Didn’t break eye contact. Smiled, teeth showing happily, when he bit his lip, but soon got distracted by a small movement on his groin area out of your view.

You peeled your back off of the tub to curiously take a peek, but Namjoon pushed you back to your place. All while his thumb remained sucked by your mouth. You frowned at him, dismayed by his recurring roughness that you weren’t used to.

Namjoon tapped your cheek twice with his fingers to let you know it was enough and rose to his feet.

“Joon, what’s going on? Why are you so rough with me?” you asked, voice tender, the question shooting arrows into the wideness of his back.

Stopping in the doorway, he hung his head, fingers coming to intertwine with the short hair above his neck. “I’m sorry, baby. Let me get the book.”

A moment later, he returned with the stellar possession in one hand and a wooden chair in the other. He slumped against it, fingers finding the first chapter unwittingly.

You swam forward as if to the shore, propping your elbows on the rim to be closer to him.

“Is the water warm enough?”

You nod, your teeth picking at the excess skin on your lips. Namjoon notices and, as if registering the reason why you put on the lip oil in the first place, he leans towards you and rubs away the smudginess he caused. As if the walk into your dining room sobered him enough from the dark wine of his lust that he now regretted his actions.

“You really scared me when you were rough,” you said calmly, unafraid to uncover your feelings, knowing you’ll be caught now that you’ve jumped head-first into the hungry sea of honesty.

He apologizes again. Repeats it in the aphonic form of a deep chaste kiss.

“Won’t do it again,” he promises. “Unless you ask me to.”

Your lips form a smile, but it quivers into a straight line just as quickly as it appeared. The yet unknown cause behind his untypical behavior troubles you.

“Did something happen today at work?”

Namjoon sighs. “No, I’m just tired.”

“Just tired or tired of your job?” you try, tilting your head to the side, remembering this isn’t the first time quiet broodiness clutched his figure when the clock struck five.

“Both.” He kneads the heel of his palm against his eye. 

Not expecting his honesty, your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. It propels you to investigate further. Gives you the green light. Namjoon usually keeps to himself when it comes to work-related storms, holding respect that reaches the bottom of his heart for those above him and for his peers as well.

“Did someone make you upset?” you ask, paving your way in this inquiry to the realm of understanding so you can help him. At least in a small way.

He drops his hand, gazes up the ceiling to stare at a fixed point. Perhaps he’s looking for words, perhaps he’s avoiding the question altogether. The regret of your prying swallows you. You’re afraid you’ve overstepped a boundary. 

You reach out your arm, wrapping wet fingers around his wrist on his lap. The gesture says, ‘you don’t have to tell me but I’m here,’ and you squeeze the limb to emphasize that. As if he heard you, he looks down at you. His eyes that are usually narrowed into slits now round in tenderness. The swallowing lets go, the lump that threatened to obstruct your throat disappears.

“It’s Friday, Joonie, and you can forget about your job for a little while. It’ll get better,” you say, caressing his soft skin.

To your another surprise, Namjoon nods. Slips his fingers into the hollowness between yours, squeezing back, saying, ‘I hear you.’ Your heart jumps with gladness that you haven’t made a mistake, that instead your reassurement made a difference.

To lighten up the atmosphere, you begin to joke around.

“Should I beat them up?” You raise your brow in mischief, a goofy smile coating your face in lightheartedness.

A grin cracks on his face. “Don’t get your hands dirty for me, baby.”

You scoff, half-seriously and half-unseriously shaking your head at his eagerness to please but never letting himself be pleased. “But I want to. I’ll do it for you.”

Namjoon shakes his head as well. Leans over to you. Cradles your head in his hands and kisses you. Picks the hair plastered on your face and puts it away. You forget all of your jokes for a moment, breathless. Your neediness nudges you in your sensitive parts, reminding you of its lingering presence. 

“Come on, Joonie,” you coo, prolonging the vowels, the best you could come up with considering his allure, “I’ll fight them,” you start to construct your imaginary plan, the dimples adorning his face making it a bit harder for you to get the words out, “then, they’ll be scared of me and they won’t bother you again. Because if they do, I’ll smash their fucking teeth in. And then… then, you’ll get your peace for good. Easy.”

Namjoon listens with his features bathed in enamoredness, seemingly lost in a deep thought. A twinkle, a twin to yours, glistens in his eyes. Dimples out provoking you, he softly smiles at you. Coyly. He’s unaccustomed to being the one fought for. He’s always been the one who fights. The one who settles, resolves, makes things right. He’s never been the person these things are done for by another person. It makes his heart pulsate in a strange new rhythm. 

He stretches out his hands and runs his fingers through your hair. Begins to plait an intricate braid down your back, keeping you caged in the confines of his arms. Safe. Protected. His warrior princess.

“There’s something else you can do for me,” he mumbles, finished with your braid. Now your hair is away from your face, just like he needs it for what he’s about to do.

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow in question, your smirk growing on the side of your face. “Like what?”

“I’m so hard for you, baby,” he whispers into your ear, shoulders hunched, lips tracing the edge of your earlobe. A secret just between the two of you. “My body’s confused. I need a release.”

Even though you saw it coming, even though you saw it a hundred times before, you can’t help but gasp at his desperation, bare and open before you. It’s a new experience each time. Thrilling and titillating, the vividness and ferocity of his sexuality. It causes a flock of playful butterflies to buzz you with electricity in your tummy and a shiver to run down your spine. You feel your own neediness making itself known again and you squeeze your thighs together. 

This is the Namjoon you know. Strong in his softness. Mellow. Intense. The Namjoon who showed you plain roughness was a stranger to you, one you could take the time to get to know, because now you understand that the incentive to act like he did was his frustration from work. You can’t really blame the natural inclination of his body—his body that is yours to love in all shapes or forms.

You perceive he needs to let out some steam—he said so himself. Proud of him for voicing it out, a decision to be his helper already makes a way to your heart. You no longer feel slivers of consternation slithering in your veins. Knowing the cause, knowing it’s still your Namjoon helps you submit to the call of his needs. If a dab of roughness is what entails the sand-speckled footpath to the seaside of his well-being, you’ll take it. Welcome it, even. Within the realm of your established boundaries, that is. 

“Can I see?”

The book falls to the floor with a thud. Namjoon stands up. 

Ever so eager. Responding to his body language out of pure instinct, you hum and lift yourself to your knees. The outline of his engorged length, tight in his pants, greets you and you will your brain not to tell your fingers to rub your swollen clit. To busy your hands, you grip the rim until white brushes along your knuckles.

Emerging from the water, it left you smothered in a luster of wet silkiness. Namjoon’s eyes rake over your bare femininity. Heavenly, pure, seraphic. Groans a little loud. Doesn’t know whether to touch you first or his painfully hard and heavy member. You move your body to the side wall of the tub and he follows you, hand opting for his girth to relieve himself a little bit. 

You sit prettily on your folded legs and lean over, pulling his wrist away. You plant a dewy kiss to the middle of his clothed length and look up at him, just at the right time to catch him whimpering. Your clit pulses again and you feel like crying, needing release as much as he does. He doesn’t make it easy for you, making sounds like that.

“What does my baby girl need me to do?” you ask, stroking his member while stifling your giggles at the title that fits him so well. 

“Baby girl?” He frowns down at you. 

It’s usually what he calls you, hence why his confusion. And you call him by an entirely different title, too.

A giggle does escape your mouth after all. You squeeze at his tip, drawing those delicious whimpers out of him again.

“Only needy little baby girls make sounds like that. You are needy, aren’t you?” You lick that sensitive part, palming his balls. 

Namjoon whines. 

The shift of dynamics, the change of titles ever so dizzying to the mind. He doesn’t even have the strength to correct you. 

He grips the back of your head and moves you away from his cock. Then the realization he’s being rough again wafts over him and he softens his hold, fallen stray hairs coming to rest at your temples. Namjoon tucks them behind your ear. Taps you on the cheek once.

“Get to sucking off your baby girl,” he rasps. 

You smile. Find it immensely attractive that he’s embracing the pet name while still being dominant. A masculinity in its true form.

“You can be rough with me if you want to,” you say, wanting to make that clear. “I think I can handle it.”

Namjoon traces the shell of your ear with his thumb, pondering.

“Just don’t hit me, okay?” 

He says your name sternly, as if you offended him. “I would never deliberately hurt you. How can you think that?” 

“No, I meant—” You lick your lips. “Don’t slap my boobs or anything. You can spank me, I like that. But don’t be as rough with me as you were. Can we take it slow? Is that okay?”

He stares at you for a moment.  

“Do you trust me?”

You nod, turning your head to press a kiss into his palm. “Yes, I trust you.”

“I’ll teach you, then. We’ll take it slow,” he says, fingers stroking the side of your cheek, where a small amount of fluff creates a path for him to lay down his silent love on. “It was a mistake on my part for not preparing you for it, and for that I’m sorry. But I’ll teach you. Show you how good it is.” He pauses. “Until you beg me for it.”

Your throat dries up. The pulsing in your cunt unbearable. 

“Fuck, Namjoon. Save the talk or I’ll come on the spot.” 

“The talk is important,” he reprimands you. “Whether you come or not without my permission is your problem.” 

“Shit,” you whimper, gripping his hand on your cheek. You tighten your hold as if to brattily change his mind on having this kind of control over your orgasm because you need to come as soon as possible. And not just once. You’re sure your dewiness is leaking into the water. 

“No bad words or I’ll fuck your filthy mouth.” 

You gasp. So unused to this side of him. But it turns you on, now that you feel safe. Turns you unstable.

“Say you’re sorry.”

You’re tumbling out the words before he’s even finished with his sentence. “I’m so sorry.”

He beams at your immediate submission, purring at the quintessence of your compliance. Wants more. “Who are you apologizing to?” 

You pause. His usual title almost slips off of your tongue. But since this is new and you’re both experiencing a new dynamic that causes you to feel so playful, that guides you ever so gently and carefully into the kingdom of subspace, you opt for the pet name that suits him well. “To my baby girl,” you say, laughing softly. “I’m so sorry, baby girl.” 

He laughs as well, the sound a deep rumble in his chest. You’re giddy that you’re allowed to be wild, your inner child healing and quivering within you. You overflow with the desire to kiss him.

“What for?”

He wants you to say the full sentence. You take a deep breath. 

“Baby girl, I’m so sorry for having a filthy mouth and saying bad words.”

“Hm, do you regret it?” 

You almost curse again. “Yes, I do. I’m sorry for being bad.”

“Good. Get to work, then,” he says. “Make that mouth useful.”

Fuck.

“Kiss me first, please. Make it better,” you beg, fluttering your eyelashes at him. 

Namjoon moans and you bite your lip. Bends and sucks it between his, deepening the kiss as he opens your jaw and slips his tongue inside. Massages the muscle against yours. Makes those sounds again. Palms his cock. Withdraws with a pop. 

You mewl in satisfaction. That kiss alone ruined you. 

“Good girls get kisses.” Hand under your chin, he squishes your cheeks. “You’ve been exceptionally good. I’m gonna destroy you.” 

He kisses you again with the same intensity but briefly, inhaling your skin. No tongue this time. 

Cheeks awash with rosiness, you hastily unbuckle his belt. Not to cut time and get to his promise faster—on the contrary, you’re dying to pleasure him. He doesn’t help you like he normally does; he merely watches you as you pull down the cotton material of his slacks along with his boxers down his muscular thighs. Only when you wrap your lips around his cock from the side does he throw his head back. Thrusts his hips. 

He’s rock hard. The weight of him makes you absolutely fucked out.

Namjoon likes you there so he keeps you still—there in the middle of his girth. You moan, producing as much saliva as you can to gratify him while he uses your mouth, alternating between keeping those pillows firm and soft. When he gets you to his tip, he expects you to swallow him, but you merely move your head from side to side rapidly, flicking your tongue. Namjoon groans lowly, a string of curse words spilling from his throat. His precum drops onto your chin and you suck in a breath, horny beyond your mind.

You swipe your index finger to collect it. Check if he’s watching before you plunge the digit into your mouth. Roll your eyes back as the tanginess overwhelms your senses. Namjoon hisses. Grabs your braid as if it were a ponytail. Kisses you, aching to be one with you. You feel the vibrations of his fervid mania in unity with him like this and it echoes down your body once he pulls away. 

“Take it in your mouth.” 

Namjoon holds it at the base for you and you find the long vein that you favor so much. Pepper kisses along the length of it, feeling it throb in tandem with your clit. Straightening your spine, you bite your lip. Give him an utter look of adoration before you swipe your tongue along the slit. Humming in delight, you slip him into your mouth. Your cheeks hollow and you begin to bob your head, fingers following your movement, bumping into his fist. Tears pool in your eyes when you dare to inch closer to his hand and even though you gag, you try your hardest to keep him nice and tucked in your warm throat. You sputter and cough, swallowing around him, because you deem he deserves it, knowing how much he loves it when your flesh contracts around him like that, and Namjoon groans deeply. It fills you with a dose of satisfaction almost akin to an orgasm, the lack of oxygen in your brain heightening the experience so much that your head spins. 

“Such a good girl,” he whispers. “Breathe, baby.”

He slips out of your mouth. Pats you on your head before he sinks his fingers into your hair, gripping at the roots. Ascertains you pay attention to him. 

“Don’t do that again,” he says, softly. “You need to breathe. Take a deep breath with me.”

You’re still on your knees and he’s merely looking down at you. You fold your hands on your lap. Your mind is so empty that you’re not sure how you feel right now, having been entirely focused on his pleasure. 

Namjoon inhales deeply with his nose and you do the same.

Inhale, exhale. 

Fondly, he caresses you on your cheek.

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” you explain yourself, thinking that you should.

“I know, baby, and you did. It’s okay, I’m not mad at you.” He smiles at you. “You hear me? I’m not mad at you.”

You nod your head yes. Pout. 

“You feeling okay? Take a deep breath for me again.” 

You do as he says, your senses returning to you like a warm spring wind. 

“Better now?”

You nod again.

“Words.”

You wet your lips with your tongue. “Yes, I feel better now.”

“Good. Do you still wanna continue?”

“Yes, Namjoon. I wanna make you come.” 

Almost like you flipped a switch, his eyes darken. 

“Hands behind your back,” he rasps. 

You oblige, crisscrossing your wrists below the dimples on your lower back.

“‘Atta girl. Back to work, come on.” 

It’s much harder to do so without your hands, especially in the position you’re in. You hesitate.

“I don’t know if I can,” you admit. 

He tuts in pity. “Should I use you then?”

You roll your eyes back, the idea intoxicating your body. You feel woozy. 

“Yes, please.” 

“Focus on your breathing, okay?” 

“Yes, Namjoon.”

Humming, Namjoon grabs your hair gently and sinks your mouth down on his cock, moves you up and down slowly. You focus on not just sucking in your cheeks but also on breathing through your nose like he told you, although you can’t help but moan around him. It turns you on how he manhandles you to his liking so delicately. You swirl your tongue around his tip once he wants you there and you let out a series of whines and whimpers. He keeps you there for a little longer, moaning after you, the sounds creating a paradisiacal symphony. You twist your head in half circles as you continue sucking him, slobbering all over him, using your tongue to flick beneath the mushroom. 

“So good, baby. Yes, fuck.” Namjoon squeezes his eyes shut. “You’re gonna make me come.” 

You pull away, but a string of saliva still connects you to him. 

He blinks at you. “You want a spanking?” 

You run the tip of your tongue along the top of your lip, giving him the eyes. Cock your eyebrow at him. Namjoon draws a sharp breath in. 

He leans over. One hand tugs at your braid firmly to arch your back over the edge of the tub. The other smacks you sharply on your ass cheek, smoothing over the sting. You moan, nipples rubbing over the cold surface, curse words dying on your tongue. Namjoon grips the flesh, spanks you again. Skims his fingers over your exposed heat. Repeats it on the other cheek, twice in a row. You wiggle your hips, needing to feel more, needing him to touch you right there between your legs. You cry out into his ear.

Letting go of your braid, Namjoon kisses you beneath your jaw. Slides his tongue along the sensitive spot, sucking it between his lips. A secret message that he hears you, that he’ll fuck your needy cunt soon.

“Think you’ll be a good girl for now?” 

Furrowing your eyebrows, you nod a few times. Not a single rational thought passes through your brain. 

Namjoon straightens. Pulls down his foreskin for you. “Spit on it.” 

You watch as your liquid love trickles down and lands on his tip. He hums and surprises you by wrapping your hands around his girth, spreading down the lubrication with you. You feel the ridges and the thick vein in a new, vehement way and even though you’re not the one pleasured, you moan. The simple up and down movement grows in rapidness that your body follows, emulating the effort, making it seem like you’re bouncing on a dick. Your ass splashes the water around, creating tender waves full of love, inherited from your still leaking dewiness. 

His hands are so warm enclasped around yours, pressed tight. Not once unclenching.

You start blabbering. 

“You’re so big. I can’t even wrap my hand around you.” You make sure to look him in the eyes as you say it. “So big in my mouth, too. Could barely fit you.” 

Your words set those twilit embers in his eyes on fire. His breathing quickens. He’s close again and you’re stunned, once more, by the vividness of his sexuality. Your hands go limp in his grasp.

“Nuh-uh, keep up the pace,” he husks. “Thought I was your little baby girl?” 

You shake your head, willing your hands to gain strength again, but it has no source to draw from. “Not anymore.”

Namjoon chuckles, darkly. Notices your movements fluctuating, arms shaking. “Tired?”

You nod and he unclasps his hands. You twist your wrists in circles to alleviate them from a cramp. 

Then, you get an idea.

Sitting back on your heels, you arch your back. Tip your chin down and spit on your chest, the essence flowing down the pathway between your breasts. You do it again, though this time you spread it on your skin. 

“Fuck, baby,” Namjoon mumbles. Unbuttons his shirt. You squeeze your nipples with both hands as your eyes flick to his, then down to his exposed chest. “How are you gonna address me, huh? What’s my name?”

He forcefully tugs the fabric off of his arms, tossing it on the floor. His body—with its vulgar beauty, broadness and definition—takes your breath away. You don’t let it show, or perhaps you pretend that you don’t because you allow your hand to travel down your stomach. Namjoon imitates you, running his fingers down the chiseled muscles that make you drool. He stops at the hair adorning his pelvis. You don’t.

You rub circles on your clit instead.

“Daddy,” you cry out in pleasure, announcing his title—his rightful, most fitting title. Face contorting at the brisk, blooming flashes of sensuality rising up your form.

His body tenses. It’s like he’s stopping himself from reaching for you, pulling you out of the bathtub and spanking you until your bottom resembles the water. Or tugging at his length until he paints you white with his cum. 

You make it easy for him. 

Lifting your body, you step over the edge of the bathtub. Kneel at his feet on the fluffy black mat. Far enough for him to see purple liquid pearls make their way down to your cunt. Far enough for him to see how you resume those circles on your bundle of nerves, fingers reaching to your hole for lubrication. You roll your hips into your hand, arm propped behind you.

“What’s this show?” Namjoon rasps, his cock twitching. “I don’t remember giving you permission to touch yourself. You wanna end up with zero orgasms?”

You pause. 

“That’s what I thought,” he says. “I believe you have unfinished work to do.” 

You smile mischievously. “You want it bad, don’t you?” 

Namjoon nods. Holds out his hand. “Come to Daddy.”

Exuberantly, you leap into his arms. Namjoon throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing and walks into your shared bedroom. Sets you down on your bed, spreading your legs, and he crouches between them, reaching into his bedside table for the tool that he wants. 

The aroma of strawberries lovingly boops you on the nose. Namjoon squirts a good amount of lubrication on your chest, paying special attention to the pathway in the middle of your breasts. He massages it in, incorporates your sensitive nipples in the preparation, coaxing whimper after whimper out of you by squeezing them and rolling them between his long fingers.

“I’m gonna make a mess,” you say, grinding your hips against nothing.

Namjoon clicks his tongue. “Already?” 

Your dewiness oozes out of you onto the bedding. To prove your point, you lean back on your elbows and lift your knees, revealing your dripping hole and the shine of your soaked folds. Namjoon stares at your cunt but doesn’t touch, doesn’t blink. He bites his lip. Flicks his eyes to yours. 

He kisses the middle of your tummy. Moves over to your heat. Licks a tiny stripe on your clit.

You cry out.

“Namjoon!”

Hands on either side of your waist, crawling up to you, he growls. “Good girls are patient, aren’t they?” 

He doesn’t wait for your response. 

“They take what is given to them and they finish what they started,” he continues. “Don’t they?”

You nod.

“And you are a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m a good girl.” 

“Then thank your Daddy for what he gave you.” 

Your walls squeeze around nothing when you hear him utter his title. It refreshes your body with energy. 

“Thank you, Daddy.” You smile. 

Namjoon kisses you, rewarding you.

“Sit up.”

Changing the layout, it’s Namjoon who reclines halfway on the bed while you sit perched on your knees between his legs, cock in your face. He spurts the lube on his length and jerks himself off, his skin shining in the abrupt spillage of burnt-orange sunlight from the window. Watches your eyes round in astonishment similarly to the way they did earlier when you had gazed upon the glitter swarming around you. 

He nods at you, giving you the green light, and you sheathe his girth into the tightness of your squished tits. You may start a face pace from the get go, fucking him into oblivion, but all Namjoon sees is the whites of your eyes, the glimmer, the pure enjoyment of what you’re doing while the rest of you is immersed in subdued late afternoon shadows. Sweat glistens on the planes of his face, dribbling down to the strained column of his neck.

It’s intense. So intense that he can’t vocally react. 

Precum appears once more on his mushroom, displaying his arousal, and you slurp it up, the braid coming undone—your hair falling around you like a curtain. 

It’s brutal. It’s wet. 

Namjoon gathers your hair to the side in a makeshift ponytail and leans over to be closer to you. Needs you like this. Feels his relief catching up to him the more effort you put in, the more you stick out your tongue to flick at that sensitive part of him whenever you can. 

“Want your come. So bad. Want it all over me,” you whisper, and that’s it for him. 

“Say please,” he murmurs, and it’s barely a sound, but you hear him. 

“Please, Daddy, come for me.” 

Pulling your hands away, Namjoon takes charge. Fucks your tits in frenzy, your hair, now half dry, tickling your skin. With his thumbs, he stimulates your nipples to coax those little sounds of yours and—

“Play with your pussy,” he commands. “But don’t come. Tease yourself like you teased Daddy.”

The relief on your face inches him closer to his. He hears the wetness as you dip a finger in, your walls sucking it in. He hears your breath get stuck in your throat. The slow crescendo of your moans. Suddenly, he hears himself too. 

Whiny, desperate, so unlike himself.

It’s a fortress of safety, his forehead on top of yours. His nose bumping against yours. Open mouth ghosting over the sounds of your well-deserved pleasure. It’s a safe place for him to come in.  

And he does. 

Ropes upon ropes of come color you ivory white, color you clean. The reversal of a coloring book—changing the lines, changing the scheme, changing your life. 

You milk him dry, your pussy long forgotten. Milk him until he pushes you away, chest heaving, unable to catch his breath. You just watch him, his seed hot on your chest. Glittery. And not just there. On your neck, on your chin, in the wavy strands of your hair. 

You’re in awe of him. You can see the pressure leaving him like a ghost slinking out of the window. 

Namjoon takes off his glasses. With two fingers, he collects as much of his essence as he can and plunges them into your mouth. The other hand rests on the crook of your neck, thumb protectively over your throat. “Swallow.”

Not for long. Namjoon throws you on the bed. Doesn’t waste time.

He laps up your pussy, clit to hole, sucking your labia into his mouth. He does it again, but this time he travels a bit further. Clit, hole, ass. Tongue flat. Your screams are muffled by the rumpled bedsheet you grip.

Going back to your leaking hole, he circles the flesh before he dips the tongue in. Wraps his arms around your ass to control your squirming, feeling the dip of your spine as the sunlight kisses it. Dust particles spiral in the air—Namjoon sees it. The dark grey curtain keeping half of the world shrouded in dimness while the other illuminated, a picture cut in a heart shape due to the deliciousness of your ass. 

Fuck, Namjoon longs to play with it again. 

He spits on it, rubbing the saliva around it before he slides his tongue back into your wet hole. Says hello to it—long time no see—teases it, before he dips his thumb in. You arch your back even more, welcoming the intrusion, and Namjoon kisses your pussy lips as a thank you. He quivers with the craving to fuck you right there in your ass, but knows better than to do it. You’re not ready for it. 

Spreading you more open, while keeping his thumb there in that sweet place, he begins to focus on your poor little clit. Swirls his tongue around it firmly, sucking it until your back trembles—goes up and down like a seesaw. The kisses he leaves there are obscene, loud, full of thankfulness that he gets to play with you. Full of love for you that he burns bright with—that propels him to flick his tongue harder. And full of joy that his stress is gone. Joy that you’ve been the helper unscrewing the steel body of heaviness off of his because, as of now, his bones feel lighter.

“You’re so good for me.” He smacks his lips against your cunt. “Fucking Daddy like that when he needed you.” 

Vigorously, he rubs his face against you, shaking his head from side to side. You stretch your fingers behind you and helplessly grip the back of your thighs. Namjoon catches one of your hands, holds it with his free four fingers, sucking your clit. 

“Thank you, baby,” he whispers, withdrawing to pay attention to your other hole, missing it. Abuses it once he spits on it, eating it, dipping his tongue in with ease since he stretched you. Fucks you there in the only way he can. 

“Wanna come?” he asks and as he waits for your answer, he goes lower to drink your freshness, not letting a drop go to waste. 

You’ve lost your voice screaming. “Yes, Daddy, please. I can’t hold it in anymore. Please, let me come,” you croak. 

Namjoon makes a sound of appreciation, proud of you for holding out for so long without saying anything.

“I think you can,” he says. Stuffs a finger into your dripping hole and lets you adjust for a moment. Adds another. “I think you can hold it while I count to ten.” 

His digits pump into you slowly. Kneeling by your side, he turns your head so you can see him, twisting your body into the position he wants. The curve of your back is so beautiful in his sight that he can’t help but run his free hand over the route that your spine has become. The route he wants to plant kisses on like flowers of various colors, adding to the coloring book, erasing the old. 

And he does. Begins at the nape of your neck. Picks up the speed.

“One.” 

You cry out. First before your tears rush out, pooling in your waterline. You clench your whole body in naive hope it would stall the orgasm, but it quickens it, squeezing his fingers in, so you relax your muscles. 

“Two.” 

A kiss to the first round protrusion of your spine. Shifting your weight to your shoulder, you take his cock into your hand. 

“Three.”

The middle of your shoulder blades. You hear your wetness oozing out of you, the relief prowling closer. You whine and Namjoon understands.

“Hold it or I’ll stop,” he whispers. “I can feel your pussy squeezing around my fingers. Relax.” 

You match your pace with his. Namjoon begins to pant. You feel his hot, heavy breath beneath your shoulder blades. 

“Six.” 

Ass shaking from the force, he jackhammers into you. Pulls out for a moment to spank you, a merciful gesture, before he’s back in. Leaves a wet fingerprint on your skin.

“Eight.”

The last protrusion of your spine. You silence your moans by pressing your hand against your mouth because they bring you closer to your orgasm, however Namjoon yanks your arm away. 

“Make those pretty sounds for me, come on,” he huffs, kissing both of those dimples on your back. “Ten. Come. Come for Daddy. Come all over his hand.”

And you do.

It’s a paradise, the heat closing in on you. The loss of hearing, the muted ringing, resembling the flap of a bird’s wing. The loss of surroundings as you’re momentarily transported somewhere entirely else. A gilded illustration, perhaps a lively projection. Something, somewhere, where all is good. The orgasm rips through you and the repetitive echo of his name leaving your mouth is what brings you back. Away from the storybook into a brand new coloring book.

Namjoon strokes your hair. 

He holds you in his arms, but something sticks you uncomfortably together. You peel yourself off of him and cringe. Strings upon strings of his come, gleaming with speckles of glitter, do not want you to leave. You sit on his thighs, resting your palms on his chest. 

He kisses you. “Are you okay?”

You nod with droopy eyelids. 

He carries you into the shower and makes a way for all colors of the rainbow to perfuse your body. To create a new storyline for the day, for the week, for the month. Reds and pinks show their faces first in the steam, and even though Namjoon is glad to see them, he looks forward to meeting the rest. To learning their objectives so he can fulfill them. 

Grabbing the yellow book on the way back to the bedroom, Namjoon makes himself comfortable beside you. Is careful not to touch your face out of habit because you have a face mask on; careful not to bump into you either because you have a plate of mozzarella and sliced tomatoes on your lap. He kisses your hair, though. Doesn’t have the strength to fight internally—grabs your jawline and ever so slowly and heedfully, he kisses you, fingers finding the first chapter unwittingly. 

“When Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from troubled dreams, he found himself changed into a monstrous cockroach in his bed.” 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[suugarbabe]

Halloween party, mattheo with little demon horns and reader wearing an Angel costume that just drives him crazy (yes that man has a huge corruption kink and ruining his little Angel is 10/10 for him)

literally so sorry my requests are so so backed up because of the series i was working on and life in general. hope you don't hate me or think i forgot about you :( 18+ under the cut

Mattheo adjusted himself in his seat again, tugging at the crotch of his trousers to try to hide the increasingly growing boner he was sporting as you danced around with Pansy just a few feet in front of him. It was fitting that he chose to dress up as the devil for the Slytherin's Halloween party, horns charmed to look like they were growing directly from his head, because the thoughts he was having about you were sinful.

Dressing as an angel and devil seemed a little cliché to some, but to him it couldn't be more fitting. You were truly heavenly, ethereal even without the dangerously short white silk slip you were wearing and the charmed little wings sprouting from your shoulder blades. If he didn't know any better he'd assume this was your true form. You falling for him was definitely a miracle.

Downing the rest of his firewhiskey he hands the glass to Theo next to him before standing up, making a b-line straight for you. His touch is something you'd recognize in a crowd of thousands, so you weren't at all startled when his arm slinked itself round your waist. He leaned in closer to whisper in your ear, the feathers of your wings tickling the bare parts of his chest his chose to display that night.

"You're looking exceptionally pure tonight, Princess," his nose pressed into the nape of your neck, inhaling deeply, getting drunk on the mix of your scent with sweat and alcohol, "m'gonna have to fix that." You turned in his embrace, a small smirk playing coy on your lips. Your arms draped over his shoulders coming at a cross behind his neck, "Is that so, Mr. Devil? And how exactly would you take this angel's purity?"

You looked up at him through your lashes, batting your eyes as innocently as you could muster with the slightest little pout on your plush lips. Mattheo's grip on your hips tightened, fingers digging into the flesh through your slip dress. He closed his eyes momentarily, letting out a low huff of air that you swore has the sentient of a growl attached to it.

Pulling your chest flush to his, he started swaying your bodies slightly to the music, his mouth next to your ear giving you a direct play by play of what was running through he devious mind. "First, I'm going to take you back to my dorm, seemingly innocent to anyone that watches. As soon as the door closes," he dragged a finger under the strap of your dress slowly, goosebumps eliciting on your skin, "I'm going to rip this tiny fucking thing off of you."

"Then you're going to get on your knees, wings and all, and you're gonna take my cock down that pretty little throat of yours until there's tears running down this angelic face." He ran his forefinger gently across the apply of your cheek before gripping your throat lightly, leaning back down to your ear. "After, I'm gonna sit on the bed and your gonna sink that tight little cunt all the way down until you can feel me right here," his hand moved from your hip to put pressure right at your belly button, "I'll even let you use my horns for leverage as your ride me, how's that sound, Princess?"

[happybird16]

Levi x reader, post-war hurt/comfort drabble

Red fills his vision, dark and angry clouds of burning crimson, while the smell of smoke scorches his nose, searing his lungs with acrid heat. The explosion's deafening roar reverberates through his frame, shaking his bones, and leaving his ears ringing with a high, metallic sound that drowns out everything else. Even beneath his eyelids, the burning red persists, a reminder of the fire, scorching heat, and pain.

Beneath the ringing in his ears, Levi hears someone yelling—a deep, rough baritone muffled as if it's underwater. Or maybe he's the one submerged.

Another voice breaks through, “Hey, Levi! Come on, come on, open your eyes!"

The yelling grows louder as the ringing fades. Something brushes his face, slowly trailing up from his chin to his cheek. His frantic mind can only think of shrapnel, bits of metal painfully digging into his skin.

Surging forward, his forehead collides with something, resulting in a painful yelp. Awareness filters in, sleep fading as his heart continues to thunder.

“Levi,” you hiss urgently, tugging at his shoulder. “It's just a dream. It's just a dream. Everything is okay.”

His limited vision drags across the room, reality setting in as his heart slows. A small bedroom with a too-large mattress, rumpled and twisted stark white sheets, and his wheelchair positioned too close to his side of the bed. You.

He's home, Levi realizes. The war is over, and he's home, in bed with you. Red still lingers behind his eyelids, even as reality sets in.

“Sorry,” his voice is rough, like he's swallowed sand. He must've been yelling in his sleep. Hovering half over him, you're rubbing your forehead and wincing. Emotion wells in his throat, a thick and heavy ball. “Sorry, I’m so sorry-”

“It was just a nightmare,” you reassure him, waving off his concern. “Was it the last fight again?”

Frowning, Levi shakes his head. “It was the explosion,” he croaks, his eyes stinging with tears welling along his lash line. “Fuck, I’m sorry-”

“There's nothing to be sorry about,” you assure him earnestly, scooting closer and placing a comforting palm over his chest. “Your heart is still a bit fast. It's been a while since you've had a night terror.”

“I hurt you- I- I-” he trails off, his voice shaky.

“You bumped me, if anything. You have a hard head, don't worry about it.” Tugging him forward, you pull his head to rest on your chest. Levi sighs, letting out one long shudder, while the remnants of red still linger behind his eyelids. “Do you think you'll be able to go back to sleep?”

“No,” his voice cracks. “I never can, you know that. The dream will just continue where it left off.”

Levi feels the warmth of your lips linger on his forehead, a soothing touch that eased some of the lingering tension from his nightmare. He can't help but marvel at your unwavering support. He doesn't deserve you. As he shifts on the bed, his good knee presses against the mattress while his injured one protests with a slight hiss. "You can go back to sleep. I'll find something to do. I think laundry needs to be done-”

“Your knee hurts,” you point out, your observant eyes filled with concern. Gently, you push him back, urging him to lie against his pillow. “Your wounds always ache after a nightmare, and you always try to hide it.”

Levi nods, appreciating your understanding more than words could express. He manages a small smile, grateful for your presence in his life. Outside the window on the far side of the room, pure pitch black darkness lingers in a heavy shroud. "It's the middle of the night," he points out. The remaining fingers of his hand curl hesitantly around your forearm, his grip firm but still a bit shaky. "You should get some more sleep, at least."

Running your fingers through his hair, you offer, “How about this: I'll make some tea for us. It'll help your throat too. You can tell me everything I did wrong, and then we’ll try to go back to sleep?”

His smile grows, the corners of his lips curving softly. Your kindness never fails to amaze him. His hand finds its way to your arm, a gentle, reassuring touch. “Okay,” he says, his voice filled with gratitude and love, realizing once again how lucky he was to have you by his side. “Love you..”

[echoofadream]

Part 3 of "Your favorite patient"🥺👉👈

Your favorite patient...

Part 3

Summary: you came back from the hospital after a very stressful day and your good boy helps you relax

Contains: sub!male!yandere, AFAB!dom!reader(no gender specified), smut, oral(r!receiving), master/slave dynamic, praise, little bit of feminization

Short note: I hate how doms are portrayed like these people who don't moan or whimper because that's what a sub does and they only make those guttural noises and groans. Like, let people enjoy themselves. Anyway you moan a lot in this one

Part 1 Part2

You had an awfully exhausting day at the hospital. Trying to convince a stubborn man that surgery was the only way to save his life, then performing a three hour surgery on him is no easy work. You were stressed and could barely keep your eyes open as you made your way to your apartment on the tenth floor of the complex. It was nine pm. The elevator was broken. Such a wonderful day.

You took your keys out of your coat and unlocked the door on the third try. Sighing, you opened it and stepped inside. A small smile appeared on your face when you noticed the man kneeling in front of you.

"Welcome home, doctor" he said with the biggest, most loving smile you've ever seen in your life. He was on his knees, hands on his thighs and his back straight(the "good boy" pose, as you called it). He was wearing a short black skirt you'd bought him and an oversized white shirt. A couple of buttons were undone, leaving the bite marks on his chest exposed. What a sight he was.

He started untying your shoe laces, carefully taking them off and putting them aside. Then, he slowly grabbed your ankle and put your foot inside the house slipper before moving to the next leg.

"Dinner is ready, doctor. Would you like to change into some more comfortable clothes first and then eat?" the man asks, the same smile on his face.

"I'm not hungry" you say, fatigue palpable in your voice as you started walking towards your shared bedroom. He started living with you a couple of days ago and was already taking his job as your slave very seriously. He'd have breakfast ready for you every morning before he'd come and wake you up. He'd help you shower and stand by your side as you brushed your teeth. Sometimes he'd do your skincare since you were always in such a hurry in the morning. When you'd come back home, he'd be waiting for you on his knees in front of the door, helping you take off your street footwear and your coat. Then he'd either help you change into house clothes or straight up follow you into the kitchen where he'd serve you the food he made with pure love and adoration just for you. Every day another healthy homemade meal. Every night a relaxing bubble bath(when he wasn't fucked out of his mind; when he was you'd take care of him).

He whines and jumps to his feet, following you into the bedroom. "B-but I worked so hard to make dinner..."

You ignore him and take a seat on the bed. When you start taking your clothes off his hands stop you.

"I'll do it for you" he tells you confidently. You let him unbutton your shirt and slide it off your shoulders, hearing the soft sounds he made at the sight of your bare torso. "You're so beautiful, doctor..." he says breathlessly, smiling and kneeling at your feet.

"I'm tired" you tell him and he frowns.

"It's all that geezer's fault" he mumbles. You raise a brow at his words, silently telling him to continue. "That old man who argued with you about the surgery" he adds, his voice full of hatred. "How dare he think he knows better than you!?" he snaps. "How dare he stress you out!? Who does he think he is? That guy deserved being refused the surgery! He should've fucking died!"

His face flushes red at the sudden touch of your hand, gently stroking his cheek. You were giving him the same kind smile you used to when he first saw you in that hospital room. He bites his lower lip and lets out a tiny whine.

"How do you know about that, pretty boy?" you ask him. You weren't mad at him, god forbid! How could you? He was your boy after all.

" 'm tracking you, doctor..." he says softly.

"Yeah? How so?

God the way you were talking to him was making him lose his mind already. Every time you spoke to him like he was an inferior being, someone who could barely comprehend the meaning of your words, everything would go fuzzy for him and he'd lose himself completely.

"App" he says, giving you his signature puppy eyes.

"App?" you repeat, a smirk on your face. He whimpers at the sight, his hips slightly rubbing against your foot.

"On...phone...your phone...track location and...can hear...you...mic..."

You laugh. You've already gotten used to his obsessive and possessive behavior, so the news didn't surprise you that much. But the way he was already so desperate and you haven't even touched him yet! Never in your life had you ever met someone so sensitive. And you loved it.

"Is that so, baby?" you ask teasingly. "You're tracking my phone?"

"Mhm~...mhm..." he whimpers, nodding his head rapidly. " 'm taking care of you..."

You burst out laughing again and that only makes him feel smaller. You start stroking his hair, slowly moving upwards to the top of his head and pat him.

"That's so nice of you, pretty boy" you praise him.

He chuckles, his cheeks getting redder. " 'm pretty...your...pretty boy"

You kept caressing his hair as he leaned into your touch, soft sounds escaping his lips. You looked at him so lovingly, he was practically melting. Your thoughts were filled with...love for him. God, were you truly getting so obsessed with him that you didn't mind him tracking your phone and listening to all your conversations? Well, did you have something to hide from him anyway? Of course you didn't! He was the closest person to you. You could tell him anything. It wasn't as though you had any secrets he wasn't allowed to hear.

"Sweet thing, why don't you finish taking these clothes off, huh?"

He gulped and started nodding his head eagerly. "Yes, doctor! Everything you say!" His hands began to unbuckle your belt and you watched him with a proud smile on your face. He looked so pretty in that little skirt of his and you were one hundred percent sure he didn't have anything underneath. He was such a cute little boy!

He practically moaned when he finished taking off your pants, his trembling hands grabbing the hem of your underwear. You spread your legs in front of him so he could see the sticky wet spot on your panties.

"I'm so tired, sweet boy. Do you wanna make me feel better?"

"Yes!" he responds without hesitation. "Wanna taste you. May I taste you? May I? Please..."

How could you deny him when he asked you so politely? He's always been so well behaved! You never had to tell him to beg for what he wanted(except for when you wanted to torment him). He was such a good boy! If you weren't so mean he'd never receive any punishment because he never deserves it! Those are the times when you get mad at him for no reason, just because you need to justify why you wanted to cover his body in bites and bruises and smack his ass till he couldn't sit comfortably for days.

"Pleaseee..." he whines once more and you get pulled away from your thoughts.

"I want you to make me cum, you think you can do that?" you ask, teasing him.

His eyes light up and he starts nodding his head. "I'll make you cum...make you feel so good..."

You smirk before leaning on your elbows and waiting for him to start worshipping his master.

As soon as he saw you get in that position, his head was buried in between your legs and his tongue was already licking at your clothed clit. He grabbed your thighs and lifted them on his shoulders as his tongue pressed on your entrance and his nose rubbed your bud frantically.

"F-fuck baby..." you cursed, biting your lower lip, trying to suppress the sounds you were forced to make.

He grabs the hem of your panties and pulls them down, rapidly taking them off and throwing them on the floor, leaving your pussy exposed to him. A whine escapes his lips and his hot breath hits your sensitive cunt, causing you to groan and grab a hold of his hair.

"So pretty..." he says, already sounding breathless. "Such....pretty...pussy...wanna make you feel good..."

Before you can tell him anything his mouth goes back to work, tongue lapping at your folds and causing your body to tremble. Lewd sounds started filling the room as he kept eating your pussy like a starved man. And boy was he doing a good job.

"Does...mhm~ feel...good mhm...?"

You couldn't even answer his question. The pleasure overtaking your body at that moment was too intense for you to talk. He went back to your hole, shoving his tongue inside and rubbing his nose against your clit rapidly.

"F-ahh baby...a-atta boy..." The praise only made him go faster, his hands rising to your thighs and pushing them inwards, squeezing his head between them. His tongue started rubbing circles on your red bud, each stroke drawing a moan of pleasure from you.

Your sounds boosted his confidence as he moved his head faster and harder. You didn't even know such a slim man could possibly have that much strength! The bed was fucking creaking with every thrust of his face in between your legs. Oh, he's humping the bed. Yeah, that makes sense.

That's when your grip on his hair tightens and you try to sound as demanding as you could while he was tongue fucking you.

"D-don't ahh~... st-stop thrust...f-fuck...the fuck...oh fuck!....fucking bed...!!"

And he stops. Wasn't he such a good boy? He pulls his face away from your cunt for a second, catching his breath. "S-sorry...I'll b-be good~...from...now-"

You push his head back in between your legs, muffling his words as you start to grind on his face, getting closer and closer to your release. "Fuck baby...yeah! That's f-fuck...so g-good...atta boy! Atta fucking boy!"

You felt your orgasm approaching, your legs shaking and walls clenching around the tip of his tongue, which was laying numb at your entrance, too tired to keep going as you fucked his face. As you came he let out a loud whimper, then pulled away from your pussy, panting like crazy. His face was covered in your release and he was licking his lips sloppily.

"Taste so good~...mhm...love you..." he says, giggling like an idiot.

You weren't in a much better state yourself. Panting and full of sweat, clit feeling sore from his abusive tongue and legs still shaking slightly. Your gaze lowers and that's when you see the sheets and his little skirt, both covered in white fluid.

"Oh baby..."

He looks away, cheeks getting redder. He covers his mouth, trying to hide the smile on his face. God, he was so perfect. He came just from humping the bed and eating your pussy and he didn't even get to finish grinding on the mattress cause you made him stop!

"Darling, look at the mess you did..."

"Mhm...are you proud?" he whimpers, big puppy eyes staring right into your soul. "Did I do good? Was I a good boy?"

You smile lovingly and you couldn't deny the feelings you were starting to develop for this man. "You did so good, my sweet boy. I'm proud of you"

"Mhm...thank you...pat my head, pretty please..."

You pat your lap and his mouth curls into a smile. He stands up and places his thighs on either side of your hips before wrapping his arms around your neck and sitting on your lap. You were right, he wasn't wearing any underwear. You smirk at the feeling of his now semi-hard cock on your skin.

"Pats!" he whimpers. "Please...!"

You can't but chuckle as you start caressing his hair with one hand while stroking his back with the other. His breathing was starting to go back to normal as he let himself relax in your arms.

"Mhm...thank you...I love you..."

"I love you too, pretty boy"

Thank you for reading this! I hope you enjoyed it! You can send me requests for what you want me to write about in the next parts❤️

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: Anon request - "virgin!reader x Sam"

Warnings: soft SMUT18+, some strong language, mentions of wine, fingering, protected first time sex, hair pulling, sensual smut, fully smut

Word count: 4.2k | not edited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

"You don't have any plans tonight, do you?" Sam asks as he slips his big sweater over his head. You purse your lips as you think for a second before shaking your head, "Not unless they're with you."

You smile as he smiles and he walks back over to you, "Good. I made us dinner reservations, I'll be back at six to get you."

"Fancy or casual?" You turn around to rest your arms on the back of the couch, eyes watching him as he comes over and leans down, "Slightly fancy."

He peck your lips, "That okay?"

You nod, "more than okay, baby."

He brushes hair from your face, "Okay." He presses his lips to your forehead, "See you later."

You hold your hand up, watching as he walks towards the door, "Bye." As soon as the door closes, you pull your phone out, texting your best friend to call you.

A few minutes later, your phone rings and you answer, "Sam has a dinner planned tonight." You blurt out, "I think.. I think he wants to, you know."

"Have sex?" She asks with a slight laugh, "There's nothing wrong about that word, y/n."

"I know.." you say resting your cheek in your palm, "I just.. we've been dating for almost- we'll, it'll be three months tomorrow and I.." you let out a sigh, "I haven't told him yet."

"Told him wh- wait." She pauses for a moment, "You haven't told him that you've never had sex before?"

You loved your best friend because you can talk to her about anything, no shame at all.

She was your safe place.

No judgment at all.

"I haven't.. I just didn't know when, not like there's a right or wrong time or anything but mainly because I'm scared to tell him."

"Why are you scared, y/n?" She asks, pausing so you can answer, "What if he thinks I'm weird?"

She laughs, loudly, "I highly, and I mean high-ly doubt that he'll think you're weird. Someone who has never had sex before is hard to come by."

"I just.. I don't want to embarrass myself with him, you know, like I really want to with him, I just let my mind get the best of me, I guess."

"I want you to listen to me, y/n." She sighs, "The way Sam looks at you, is the way someone who knows they have a forever in their hands looks at someone, and that's even more rare than someone who still has their virginity."

You smile, "I know it's probably way too soon, but I honestly do think I love him."

"I wouldn't doubt it. You guys are tooth rottenly perfect for each other." She laughs slightly, "I'm sure he feels the same way about you."

You take a deep breath, "I'm going to tell him tonight, I mean it it all goes wrong and he does find me weird-"

She cuts you off, "He's not going to find you weird." She laughs, "I'm sure that will turn him on even more."

"Oh gosh, no. Stop it." You close your eyes, shaking your head, "I'm already nervous as is."

"Sorry, but no. I think it'll be okay." She pauses, "Just remember, that good things take time, and I'm sure that you being such a pure little angel will make it even better."

You smile, laughing slightly as you nod to yourself, "I'm sure you're right and I'm just overreacting."

"Isn't that what usually happens?" She laughs and you your eyes, "Mhm."

"Alright, well let me know how it goes. If you need, my door is always open for you."

You smile, "Thank you. I'll call you tomorrow or something."

"Sounds good. Now go pick out a pretty dress."

"I'll send you pictures. Thank you." You stand up and she sighs, "You got this. He isn't going to go anywhere."

"Okay." You nod, "Talk later."

"Talk later."

You hang up, letting out a long sigh as you make your way into your room to rummage through your closet.

After a while of holding up dresses to your body, you settle on a white knit dress with a cropped sweater attached to it.

You lay it on the bed, walking over to find a pair of shoes that go with it nicely. You pull out each pair of heel you have, nervous that nothing will go with it.

You set a pair of tan ankle boots next to it and tilt your head as you take a picture to send to your friend.

You smile at her reply, That is the cutest dress ever and the light tan color of those boots go so well. You'll look great, y/n!

You text her back and look at the time, it's almost four, which means you have two hours until Sam is back to pick you up.

You head for the shower, hoping to wash some of the anxiety you have, away.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You set the curling iron down after curling the last strand of your hair. You look into the mirror of your vanity and let out a sigh, "You got this."

Your phone vibrates and you pick it up, smiling when you see a text from Sam, On my way, sweetheart.

You text back, See you soon, baby.

You set your phone down, applying any last minute touches to your makeup before you stand up to smooth out your dress.

You grab your purse, hooking it onto your shoulder before snapping a picture to send to your friend.

She replies back as you walk out of your room, telling you that you look pretty and what not. She was your biggest support, besides Sam.

Sam has been there for you through everything that's happened these last two, almost three months. You guys clicked instantly and just like your friend said, you felt like you had forever in your hands when you looked at him, too.

There's a knock on your door and you stand up, walking over to open it. An instantly smile on your face when your eyes meet Sam's.

"Wow, you look gorgeous." He smiles as his eyes move down your body, "These are for you."

Your lips slightly part as your eyes move down to the bouquet of red roses in his hand, "Sam." You whisper looking back up at him as you take them, "They're so beautiful."

You open your arm, wrapping it around his neck. His hand lays on your hip and he turns his head to kiss your cheek, "Beautiful flowers, for a beautiful girl. You ready?”

You smile, "Yeah, let me just set these on the counter." You turn, walking back into your apartment to set them down on the counter, "Okay. Ready."

You walk over to him and link your arm with his. You pull your door shut before he leads you down to his car. He opens the passenger door for you, giving you a smile before he closes it.

He walks around, getting into the drivers seat, "That dress looks beautiful on you."

You run your hand over the fabric and look up at him, "Thank you. I got it a few weeks ago, figured now was the perfect time to wear it."

"Any time would have been the perfect time, babe." Sam smiles as he lays his hand on yours, interlocking your fingers together.

You bring your other hand over, tracing gentle circles on top of his hand. Your mind starts racing, but you quickly shut it down by reminding yourself of what your friend said.

You rest your head back, staring out the window at the lights of the city. Sam squeezes your hand, "You okay?"

You look over at him, "What, babe?"

"I asked if you're okay." He glances over at you, "You're quiet."

"Oh, I'm fine. Just enjoying the lights." You nod towards the window and he tilts his head, "You sure?"

You nod at him, "Yes, baby. I'm good." You smile, giving his hand a squeeze back. He smiles and pulls up to the doors.

You look over at him, "Valet?"

He smiles and nods, "Uh huh. Now wait here." He gets out, walking around to your side. He talks to the attendant before opening your door, "This way, sweetheart."

He holds his hand out and you take it as you exit the car, "Sam. This place is fancy."

He wraps an arm around your waist as you walk in, "You deserve it."

You smile as you walk with him to your table. He pulls your chair out for you and you sit down. He helps move your chair in before moving to sit beside you.

Your eyes scan down over the menu, "Everything sounds so good."

He nods, "I came here with Colby a few months ago, it was very good."

You set your menu down, looking from it to Sam, "I have to tell you something."

You can see it in his face that he doesn't like the sound of that but you quickly reassure, "Don't worry, it's nothing bad."

He lets out a sigh, "Oh god. Okay." He laughs slightly, "What's up, babe?"

Just as you're about to say it, the waiter comes over, "Good evening, my name is Frankie, I'll be your waiter tonight. Can I get you started with something to drink?"

"Hello Frankie." Sam gives him a smile, "Actually, yes." He looks over at you, "How does a bottle of Sangria sound?"

You smile and nod, "Please."

Sam looks back at Frankie, "Well do a bottle of Sangria, red." He nods at Sam and smiles, "I'll be right back with that."

"Thank you." You and Sam say as he walks away. Sam looks at you, taking your hand, "So you were saying?"

You laugh nervously, "Oh, yeah. That." You brush a curl from your face and sigh, "There's something I've been meaning to tell you, and I think you need to know before anything happens-"

He cuts you off, "Anything, sweetheart. You can tell me anything." You catch the hint of worry in his voice so you lean in, "I'm.." you pause, laughing slightly as you build up the courage.

You look up at him, "I'm a.. virgin."

He lets out the breath he was holding, "I thought you were going to say you can't see me anymore or something."

You lay your other hand on top of the one that's in your hand, "No, baby." You shake your head, "I just thought I should tell you, I'm not trying to rush anything by saying that, I just.." you raise your brows, "I just don't have any personal experience and I figured that that would be embarrassing on my end."

He reaches his hand up, thumb brushing your cheek, "There's nothing embarrassing about that, sweetheart." He smiles, "I think.. that's kind of sexy."

Your friend was right, you think as you bite your bottom lip, "Really?"

"There's a first time for everything, darling.." Sam smiles, "And if you are willing, I'd be honored to show you the ropes." He winks, causing a slight blush to take to your cheeks.

"Considering we're celebrating our three month anniversary tonight.." you rest your elbows on the table and lean forward, "I think tonight would be the perfect night for you to do that."

He tilts his head, "It's been three months already?"

You laugh, "I know. Time flies when you're having a good time." He laughs, sighing as he looks up at Frankie, "Thank you."

He nods, "Are we ready to order yet?"

"I am." Sam nods and looks over at you, "You know whatcha want?"

You motion to him, "You go first." You look back down over menu as Sam orders. You look up, ordering what you want before Frankie walks away.

You feel Sam slip his hand under yours and you look over at him as you sit your wine. He stares at you for a few seconds, "Why were you nervous to tell me?"

You shrug, "I didn't want you to think I was weird."

He laughs slightly, "Oh baby, why would I think you're weird? I think that's a good thing, you know?"

"Well.." you sigh with a smile, "That's certainly a relief."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·

As you leave the restaurant, your arm linked with Sam's, you can but feel a rush up nervous excitement.

You were more than ready to give yourself to Sam.

You wanted him to be the one to have you for the first time.

The more you thought about it, the more it felt like it was meant to happen this way.

You watch as the valet attendant brings his car around. Sam leads you down, opening the passenger door for you.

"Thank you, baby." You give him a kiss on the cheek before getting in. He smiles, "More than welcome, my love."

He shuts your door, waving to the attendant and yelling a quick 'thank you' before getting in, "Alright. So where to now?"

"We can go back to my place." You bite your lip as you look over at him. He smirks, "say no more." He starts to drive, his hand finding yours like it always does.

You can tell he wants to ask something, but chooses not to.

"You can ask me, babe." You laugh slightly, "I'll answer any question you have."

He glances over at you, "I don't want to make you uncomfortable by asking anything."

You shake your head, "You won't."

"Why haven't you.." he pauses, "i don't know how to word it." He laughs nervously and you rest your head back, "Why haven't I ever had sex with anyone before?"

He nods and you shrug, "I just.. I don't know, really. It just never felt right with anyone. I was thinking about it, after I told you, and I honestly feel like it was meant to be this way."

He smiles as he comes to a stop, looking over at you, "Really?"

You nod, "I haven't felt this way with anyone. I actually told my friend earlier today that-" you stop once you realize what you're about to say.

You look over at him and he nods, "Keep going."

You take a calming breath, "I was just telling her today that I think.." you smile slightly, "I'm falling in love with you."

A smile takes over his face and he shakes his head, "I actually had sorta the same conversation with Colby the other day."

"You did?" You can feel your cheeks heating and he nods. He brings your hand up to his lips, pressing them against the back of it, "I love you, y/n."

Your heart skips a beat and you nod, "I love you, Sam."

He presses a few kisses onto the back of your hand as he comes to a stop at a red light. He lets go of your hand and reaches up to pull you over as he leans over, and that's right when you knew that you definitely have the kissing at red lights kind of love.

"When we get back to my place.." you whisper as you lean back, "I want you to take me into my room and show me just how much you love me."

You were shocked that those words came from your lips.

But you weren't arguing about it.

"Anything for you, baby." Sam takes his hand back into yours as he continues driving.

Your stomach fills with, what feels like a thousand butterflies and he pulls into the parking space in front of your building.

He looks over at you, reaching up to cup your cheek with his hand, "I've never felt this much love for someone."

You lay your hand on his, "Me too, Sam."

He pulls you in, pressing his lips to yours before whispering a small, "Come on, sweetheart." He gets out, and like usual, comes and opens your door.

You cling to his arm, smiling as you walk up to your door. You unlock it, immediately pulling him in. He kicks the door shut as your hands go to the sides of his neck, lips meeting his.

His hands go to your waist, backing you up a few steps before he pulls your body into his.

"Are you sure?" He whispers, leaning his head back a little to look at you.

"I've never been more sure of anything before, Sam."

He smiles, brushing hair from your face, "Okay." He leans down, gripping the back of your thighs so he can lift you up.

Your legs circle his waist, arms wrapping around his neck as he walks you into your bedroom.

The most you’ve done with Sam is an old fashioned high school make out. Nothing more. He never pressured you into more, with him, it just feels so right.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, pressing little kisses onto your cheek as he lays you down on the bed. Your legs fall to his sides and he leans up to shrug off his jacket.

You watch was his hands move to undo each button on his white shirt as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

Your eyes move up to meet his as he slides it down his shoulders and drops it to the floor. He leans back down, body over yours as he presses his lips to yours again.

He grinds against you, earning a low moan from your lips, “That’s it, baby.” He kisses down your neck and back up, “If it feels good, tell me.”

You nod, tilting your head back as he attaches his lips to the skin of your neck, sucking to leave a mark.

You moan out quietly as your nails dig into his shoulders. His hand moves down to pull your dress up, letting it lay high on your thighs.

His hand dips in between them, gently dragging lines up and down your clothed, but soaked center.

“Please.” You whimper as you move your hips, “Please, touch me.”

He nods once, tilting his head slightly as he watches your face. He slips his fingers into the crutch of your panties, pushing them over before gently gliding a finger up and down, “This what you wanted, baby?”

You nod quickly, moving your hips up and down, “Y-yes.”

You thought him just grazing the outside of your pussy felt good, but it quickly heightened when he slowly plunged his finger into you.

You arched your back, letting out a whine as you squeezed around his finger.

“Feel good?” Sam asks rubbing your thigh with his free hand. You look up at him, lips parted as you moan to him slowly moving his finger out and back in, “Fuck, yes.”

Sam bites his lip, watching your body move from the pleasure he’s giving you.

He was in awe that you were his.

He slid his hand over, palming himself through his suit pants because the image of you was making him ache.

“Fuck, I know I keep saying it, but you look so beautiful.” He leans down, hand still between your legs, “So pretty.”

He gently presses his lips to yours and your hands move to his neck, sliding one hand up to tangle in his hair.

He lets out a groan as you tug, “So mine.”

You smile against his lips, arching your back as he curls his finger, “Fuck.” You slide your hands down his chest, “Please, Sam. I need you.”

He nods, “Alright.” He slowly pulls his finger out, “Take this off for me.” He tugs the hem of your dress before getting up to take off his pants.

His eyes are glued on you as you sit up to reveal your body to him. You let the dress drop to the floor before reaching behind you to unhook your bra.

He slips his fingers into the band of his boxers, pausing to just take a good look at you.

“What?” You ask, a shy tone consuming your words.

He shakes his head, “Nothing, I-“ he sighs and smiles, “You’re just.. ravishing.”

You give him a smile and look down, “Oh, thank you.” He strips away from his boxers, “Do you have a condom, by chance?”

“Actually.. I do.” You laugh, “my friend gave it to me a few weeks ago, long story but it pertains to you.”

He chuckles, “Oh jeeze, okay.” He walks over to the stand you pointed to, pulling out and putting it on before walking over to crawl up between your legs again, “You okay?”

You look up at him, laughing nervously, “Just.. kinda nervous.”

He brushes your cheek with his hand, “I got you, sweetheart.” He leans in, pressing his lips to your forehead, “If it hurts or gets to be too much, I’ll stop.”

You nod, lying back as he moves up to hover over you, “Tell me when.”

You take a deep breath, giving him a nod, “I’m ready.”

Sam gathers some spit onto his fingertips and reaches down to coat the tip of his cock, “Just try and relax, baby.”

You spread your legs, laying your hands on his biceps as he positions himself at the entrance. You close your eyes, the rollercoaster of emotions hitting you at once.

Nervous.

Excited.

Happy.

But, you were ready for him.

You close your eyes, squeezing his biceps as he slowly slides into you, “Fuck.” He breathes out, “You okay?”

You nod quickly, eyes still shut tight, “Yeah.”

He pauses for a moment, reaching up to tilt your head up, “You sure?” You give him a smile, “Yes.” You lay your hand on his cheek, “K-keep going.”

He brushes hair from your face before reaching for your hand, interlocking your fingers with his. He continues to push in, earning small moans from you.

You wrap your leg over his waist, squeezing his hand tight.

“Sam.” You moan out quietly, “That feels so good.”

He leans down, peppering your face with kisses, “That’s good, baby.” He pushes all the way in, resting for a moment, “You feel so good.”

You lay your free hand on his cheek, wiggling your hips ever so slightly, “Okay.”

He tilts his head, “Ready?”

You nod and gasp as he pulls out, gently thrusting back in, “Fuck, y/n. You feel incredible.”

His words send the anxiety and nervousness away. You feel so much closer to him already. You now know that this was the way it was supposed to be.

“I love you.” You whisper out, “I love you.”

Sam rests his forehead against yours, “I love you so much.” He lifts his head to plant a kiss, “So fucking much.”

You snake your arm under his, laying your hand in the center of his back as you moan out, louder than they’ve been.

“You sound so pretty.” Sam whispers in your ear before kissing down your neck. He groans lowly, “I want to get you off before I do, okay?”

“Okay.” You breathe out, “Fuck.”

He thrust a little bit faster, still holding your hand in his. He reaches down with his other hand, pulling your arm away from his and holding your other hand.

He pins it by your head, forehead on yours, “I can’t get over you.” He whispers lowly, a moan following his words.

You smile slightly, brows furrowing as you feel an intense pleasure building up in your stomach, “I-I think I’m close.”

He nods, “Whenever you want, sweetheart.” Sam kisses your lips and you moan into his mouth, “Shit. Shit.”

You tighten your leg around his waist, bringing the other one up to lock around him. Your eyes roll shut as your back lifts off the bed and you squeeze his cock.

You drag your moan out, “Fuuuck.”

“That’s it baby. Cum for me.” Sam encourages, “That’s my girl.” He lets go of your one hand to brush hair from your face, “So fucking beautiful.”

Your chest rises and falls quickly as you come down, Sam not too far behind you.

His throws slow down, almost to a completely stop and you feel him twitch inside of you. He presses kisses over your face, “You okay?”

You nod, laying your hands on his cheeks, “I’m wonderful, baby.”

He smiles, “Alright, I’m gonna..” he nods down and you brace yourself before he slowly pulls out. He gets up, walking over to your bathroom to discard the condom and to grab a towel for you to clean up with.

You toss the towel down and turn back slightly to move the covers of the bed down. You move up and slide your legs under them, “Are you staying the night?”

You look up at him with a smile and he smiles, “You know it.”

He walks over to you, sliding in beside you and pulling the blankets up around you both. You snuggle into his chest, letting out a content sigh, “I definitely believe now, that this is the way it was to happen for me.”

Sam rubs your back as he smiles, “You think?” He looks down at you and you look up at him, “I know.”

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

I hope you enjoyed! I think this is one of my favorite Sam one shots that’s I’ve written so far.

As usual, let me know what you thought and thanks for reading! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 🖤

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

I apologize in advance, but the brainworms did a heckin screech and I felt the need to share the chaos.

Imagine, if you will, that our Creator let's it slip that they've interacted with other worlds before reaching Teyvat. (Played other video games) Imagine having to explain that in these other worlds, they may or may not have been interested in the denizens of those realms...sometimes in the romantic sense, which led to wedding bells and/or children.

Cue the uproar from the Genshin cast. The Creator, Blessed Maker of All...you have courted others? Have been married?? You have had children??? Their image of you being pure and untouchable, blown apart into tiny little pieces of confetti. 🎉

Though many loathe to admit it, they are curious...who are these people, what are they like? Is there a common factor in your selection of spouses? You would only pick the very best of a realm to choose as a potential partner, surely another being of creation...or perhaps a demigod?

It leads to the proverbial red string board getting made, the Archons trying to find out who is your most likely pick from their regions. It's all for your safety, your Benevolence! If you insist on having a partner, they must find the perfect match for you! You deserve only the best of the best, after all.

Bonus points if the Creator was a fan of games like the Harvest Moon/Rune Factory series. They're gonna need to make a list of all their partners, there are so many options to choose from. >>_>>

I'll admit I never played any of those games so I skimmed through the harvest moon wiki and chose one of the bachelors and chose some other game characters lol. Plus a game for all of you, guess the characters.

Though I do think that the reader having children before causes a bit of whiplash because it's totally unexpected, mostly because there were no records of you taking spouses or kids, even knowing you ‘have’ (play) other worlds is a surprise that causes a bit of a crisis. Either way here are some head cannons.

“I must admit, your grace is awfully attached to Qiqi” Zhongli hums as he blows on his white tea, a small cloud of steam leaving.

Qiqi doesn't pay him much mind, her head coddled under your chin like a little puppy, between her hands there is a small bird plushie “Well, I must admit she does kind of remind me of one of my little ones” Your hand softly pats her head, a few strands of hair moving as you do.

He stills as you spoke, eyes fixated on his cup “your… little ones?”

“Mhm?” Without looking up from the braid you were giving to the little girl you just nod “yep, she is quite soft spoken like Milenoe”

“... I wasn't aware your grace had sired children” there was never any mentions about holy spawns or spouses taken by you in any manuscript he got his hands on.

“Well, I never chose a couple from this world, so there wouldn't be any descendants” the comment slips airly from your lips as Qiqi slides off your lap towards baizhu who had finished checking the books from your bookshelf. “Do you want to see her? She started elementary school a few weeks ago” without waiting for an answer a screen appears displaying a tall man with black hair and horns standing regally behind you and a child with emerald eyes and horns.

“She looks rather shy”

You hum nodding “she is as shy as her father when he was her age. There aren't many children her age she can play with so she was pretty lonely her first 50 years”

“50 years?”

“her dad is a slow maturing species” so it should be 10 times the life expectancy than humans. Not that long for him but certainly longer than usual.

•°•°•

“It's a wonder to see how you manage to get Klee to change her mind about going fish blasting,” albedo scribbles some data half mindedly as he watches you hover next to Klee, who showed you a new drawings every few minutes “she is so stubborn even with Alice”

“Well I do have experience with headstrong children, Pardine is as focused on her goal as her father” one of your hands fall on her blonde hair, bright but still darker than Pardine’s almost champagne blonde and her red eyes polar opposite to her icy ones, a carbon copy to her dad. Even if your genetics rarely showed up on any of your kids it was uncanny how similar she looked to her dad and aunts “but I will admit she does annoy many guards asking to train her”

Albedo just laughs it off, listing the few loose characteristics of one of her spouses. Venti has been annoying him about his nation almost getting no information so he hopes a few spare tidbits and Klee’s rough drawing of a blond blue eyed man with a big shield works for whatever weird thing the archons have going on.

•°•°•

“Your Grace has married before?!” Ayaka gasps as you take a stroll around the nature surrounding her home. Her hand had swiftly unfolded her fan in front of her face.

“Mhm, I don't know why people get so surprised, after all it would be weirder if I spent so much time somewhere but took no lovers” you laugh at her slightly seeing her slightly flustered “it's almost a tradition at this point, to wed someone from each world. Want to see some family portraits?” She nods fervently looking at the tablet like thing that appeared on your hands, first a white haired cowboy like man is kneeling on the ground holding a baby by the armpits surrounded by three wolves ,seemingly playing with an older child, by the time the next imagine passes Ayaka is almost hanging by your shoulder, asking things about the siblings and begging to see more photos of your babies.

“And who did you take from teyvat?” Ayaka looks up sweetly at you, she has always held you in high regard and now that you are in Inazuma she can't help but get giddy thinking about how you decided to spend the stay in her state and most of your time with her.

Feigning surprise you tap your chin with your index finger “now that I think about it I didn't choose anyone yet... maybe it's about time”

“Then that means you could pick my brother!” She wraps her hand around your own, smiling as if she got the best idea ever “I could even call you older sibling!... If you wanted so of course”

“Big brother you remember how you told me you would find me a proper bachelor”

“If this is about wanting me to rush it won't work”

“It's not about it, I found you someone”

“Fine, as you please, need I remind you my standards are quite high”

“It's their grace!... Why are you choking on your tea!?”

•°•°•

“There isn't one damned coincidence…” Raiden slaps her head against the table with the rough drawings and some information about them “a king, a captain, a cowboy, a damned sorcerer…”

“Maybe there isn't supposed to be a coincidence” Nahida guesses “maybe they just look for someone who catches their eye”

“It doesn't help out as much as you think it does” the tsaritsa crosses her legs and leans against the back of the chair “if we are doing people with very clear characteristics maybe Ajax could fit nicely? Redheads aren't very common”

“Mhm, maybe but don't they have a liking for smart men? Then Alhaitham would be closer to their past couples”

“Well if we are going by that logic they should like the geo archon, as one of them has dragonic features” the tsaritsa side eyes Zhongli from the other side of the table.

Sighing deeply Furina, who came in place of Neuvillette, chimes in “It is their decision who they want to marry and even if they wanted to!”

"obviously you would be so calm, after all they are very close with your iudex. Don't get so cocky, I heard the commissioner Ayato is interested in the idea"

[bluehourbucky]

Travelling for Pleasure

pairing: mob!bucky x f!reader

summary: you and Bucky are currently on a vacation travelling around Europe but there's other things you'd rather do than explore the city

a/n: these pics brought out the worst out of me I apologise / no plot just pure filth

warnings: daddy kink / degrading / dom!bucky / spanking / orgasm denial / unprotected sex/ face fucking / brat taming /

NO MINORS PLEASE !

masterlist / bucky masterlist /

You'll never get tired of seeing your husband the first thing in the morning. It is always your favorite time of day. Even though you're not a fan of waking up early, seeing your husband in the morning light is always worth it.

It is breathtaking the sight you have privilage of waking up to.

"Morning handsome." Your husband turns around to look at you. He's standing in front of the mirror of the hotel suite just a few steps from the bed.

"Morning doll."

You smile and stretch Buckys eyes immediately, falling to your naked chest covered in his marks.

"Where are you going so early?"

"Got a meeting with a friend. Then we'll get breakfast and I will hopefully manage to take you out to see something."

You groaned into the pillow. Bucky promised to take you on no work vacation, but so far, he went to a meeting with a friend in every single place you visited. It's not like you're not thankful that your husband is taking you on a summer trip around Europe, but it's not as fun when you barely see him. And when you do see him,you're usually too horny to leave the hotel suite.

"Honey, you have to leave the hotel room eventually."

you dramatically sighed.

"But I don't want to go alone I wanna go with you ."

Bucky rolled his eyes because he tried to get you out of the room more times than he could count over the past few weeks, but you somehow always get him to fuck you like a little brat you are.

"Baby girl, the only landmark you saw was my cock and no matter how much I like being inside you, I gotta take you out a bit."

Bucky rolls his eyes again when you remove the whole cover off of you and your fingers find their way down to your clit.

"Doll." he gives you a warning, but you couldn't care less.

"You look so handsome, Daddy can't take it. I need you." You look at him through your eyelashes, checking him out once more. It is true you don't need much to get in the mood, especially with your husband looking like that. However, there's something about Europe Bucky that has you weak. The pants and the white tank top that shows off his arms and muscles makes you weak. Oh, how you love having his hands around your throat.

"I'll give you three seconds to stop doll, after that you'll be at my mercy and I promise you I won't be kind."

"Daddy.." You moan out, moving your fingers faster, chasing your release. Right as you were about to let go, your hands got pulled away above your head.

"My little wife is a fucking whore." Bucky grunts into your ear biting your earlobe, pushing you harder into the bed and his buldge against your dripping pussy. When he calls you little wife, you're a goner.

"Can't take you anywhere. Attention whore, I give you everything, the dresses the shoes the bags fucking taken you on a tour through Europe and all my little wife can think about is her husbands cock."

You squirm under him trying to get some friction, but he's holding you in place, and with every word, you're getting wetter and wetter.

"Please, Daddy." You cry out, which only gets you thrown over Buckys lap and a hard slap on both your ass cheeks.

"Can't believe I thought I taught you anything. You're just a hole to be filled. Look at you, already cock drunk without me even touching you."

The slap you receive next makes you move forward from the force Bucky hit you with, leaving you with a handprint over your ass. Tears start streaming down your face as your husband continues to spank your ass raw.

"Told you to stop, but my little brat doesn't know how to listen." Bucky slaps your ass one last time, then picks up the juice dripping from you and rubs it on your ass.

"Fucking hell, you're dripping for me, you like when I leave marks on this ass, see who you belong to."

Bucky leans down and bites your cheek making you scream.

"Please, please , Daddy touch me please."

Your husband chuckles darkly, fisting your hair and pulling you up just to drop you on our knees, and with the other hand, he unbuckles his pants, pulling out his cock. Your eyes water at his hard member, the veins and the precum making you drool.

"Open up wide, brat." Bucky slaps your tongue with the head, which earned a moan out of you.

He doesn't give you a moment to adjust to him before pushing his cock down your throat making you gag. You're doing your best to take all of him but he's too big and thick. Bucky fucks your mouth with no mercy, saliva dripping down your next straight to your pussy.

"Just like that." He says as he looks down at you taking the opportunity to grab your neck with the hand that's not in your hair.

"Taking me so well, see how deep I am." Bucky smirks when your face gets red from lack of air.

He releases your neck as he pulls out your lips swollen from the fucking.

"If you were just a bit patient, I would've treated you like a princess, but now I don't think you even deserve to cum." Bucky picks you up by your neck and throws you on the bed.

"What's your safe word?" his hands grab your jaw forcefully so you focus.

"Yogurt ." you manage to say and that's all he needs to spread your thighs and dive in.

"Oh god, daddy." you moan holding onto the sheets and Buckys hair for dear life. Bucky was feasting on you like a man starving.

"Please, please, please." You beg, and you don't even know what you're begging for anymore, your only thought is that you need to cum. Bucky, knowing your body better than you do pulls away right as you're about to let go.

"No. Please. No." You cry out jerking up, searching for something to help with your denied orgasm.

"Ah, you really thought I'd let you cum. Already got you cock drunk. Brats don't get to cum but you already knew that. You like that I'm now late to a meeting, and you'd like me to make an excuse for why I'm late. Ah, but I'll just say that my wife is a whore who needed to be thought lesson."

Your husband laughs when he slaps your pussy and you cry out.

"Don't you dare cum, little brat."

Bucky says as he finally enters you, giving you no time to adjust and thrusts deep into you and pulls out.

"Daddyyy."

Bucky wraps his hand around your neck as he fucks into you deeper and deeper until you see the stars.

He flips you over pushing your head down ass up and continues to fuck into you like there's no tomorrow.

"You like being fucked like this huh. Your husband fucking you like you're nothing more but a fuck toy."

You cry out when he pulls you by the hair and spits on your tongue.

" Fuck, gonna fill you up so good. Don't you dare cum you won't come for a month or two months even think about that."

"But-"

You don't get to finish the sentence since Bucky has just come in you and your mind has gone blank.

"Ao good to me my good little wife good only for breeding and nothing else."

Bucky grunts as he rides out his orgasm and you dare not to come, knowing fully well that you could not have an orgasm for a month.

When Bucky pulls out he goes straight to the luggage, pulling out a plug and slipping it into you.

"Be good. Don't touch yourself, I'll know if you did. Keep this here for 10 minutes and when I come back we're going for a walk and breakfast. Understand?"

You nodded half-heartedly, absolutely fucked out of your mind.

"Be back soon, I promise. Love you darling."

"Love you too." you whisper even though your husband already closed the door, you're not even sure how he managed to clean himself up so fast but to be fair you're in a haze and have no sense of time.

"Damn, I'm so lucky." you say to yourself when your brain finally exits the fucked out state, your body still shaking from the denied orgasms.

[the end]

likes comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

[yandere-romanticaa]

Here are some crumbs about yandere mortician! From now on, his name is Viktor. (I'll make a detailed post about him, his personality, looks later, I promise.)

masterlist.

Viktor can often be seen with headphones in his ears, his expression neutral and eyes glazed over with a sheen of nothingness. When he's spotted in public people want to give him the benefit of doubt and say he's just lost in his own world, consumed by the sound of music. Perhaps he's just so in tune with the lyrics, maybe they speak to him on a level which people often seek out when listening to music. His playlist is filled with all sorts of songs - be it long ballads, cheesy love songs, generic pop, heavy metal, screamo, classical music, frankly some songs you wouldn't even expect someone like him wouldn't even listen at all(a la WAP by Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion).

Even while working, Viktor likes to have something playing in the background. His co-workers often joke about his music taste but he just shrugs them off without saying anything. It's all just a rollercoaster, a complete mess but he likes it that way. It's fun to be on his toes.

Truthfully, Viktor never liked music. He never bothered paying attention to the lyrics nor the meaning or even the tune of the song.

He simply can't stand the silence.

Viktor is a walking contradiction - he dislikes most people and yet wishes to be a part of them. He wants to be someone. But he doesn't know how to do that. His way of coping became listening to music. He even learned to play some instruments growing up, thinking that maybe someone would take a liking to him.

Even so, no one bothered with him. He was still a nobody.

Some did admire him, from a safe distance at least. His aura was black as charcoal and posture stiff as a board. Even if one dared to look at him for too long it felt like Viktor would pluck their eyes out if he caught them looking.

Perhaps he would. He wasn't sure either.

The sounds had no meaning to him. It was all used to cover up the silence, pure white noise. Nothing more, nothing less.

All of that came to a screeching halt once he met you, his tiny piece of sunshine.

You'd go through his playlist, sometimes scoffing, sometimes liking the things you saw. His eccentric side never failed to amuse you. Amongst that jungle you'd ask him who his favorite artists were, if he had anyone specific he liked.

Viktor said the names of some random artists he thought you fancied yourself. He wanted you to like him.

His answer ultimately did not matter in the end as you would still recommend some of your own personal favorite songs to him. Viktor promised he'd give them a listen as soon as he could.

Later that evening, he was hard at work. As he was putting on his coat he turned towards his phone and reached towards it, slightly eager to see what you had in store for him. The song played quietly in the background as gently rain tapped against the window, giving the morgue a more tranquil feel than it ought to have. The person on his table tonight was an old man who presumably died of a heart attack earlier this morning.

Poor soul. That was all he could bother to say.

The evening went on as it usually did but Viktor could not stop thinking about you. His sweet little sunshine, he was so touched by the fact that you bothered to go so far for him. He could feel his heart racing as unfamiliar butterflies started to flutter in his chest.

Badum. Badum. Badum.

If he wasn't careful he would be the next one to die of a heart attack.

The music got a bit louder as it reached the chorus, its tune almost perfectly in sync with his heart. He hadn't even realized that he started to sway his hips gently. Left, right, left right.

It felt like the correct thing to do.

Viktor also picked up the sound of a male voice humming which was odd, considering the fact that the singer of the song was a woman. He nearly dropped his scalpel as he realized that the one who was humming was him, not someone else, him.

For the first time in his life, Viktor bothered to pay attention to the song. The singer detailed her undying feelings for her lover, promising herself to them and them only.

Viktor thought about you the entire time. He never fancied himself as a dancer but if he could, he would want nothing more than to dance with you.

Would you want to dance with him?

For the first time in his life, Viktor found joy in the music he listened to. And it was all thanks to his sunshine.

🔪 TAGS: @shamelessdarkprince

[mrsmikaelsxn]

Oblivious To Love

masterlist 1k celebration

pairing: five hargreeves x female reader

warnings: fluff, kinda flirting, kissing

summary: five is your boss at the commission, always flirting and hinting that he likes you. you're oblivious to this but then finally admits his feelings - requested by anon

a/n: not to toot my own horn but i think my writing was pretty good in this. thanks so much for requesting for five because i have to write more of him !!

song: i wanna be yours - arctic monkeys

Five Hargreeves was certainly a character.

He was a decently closed off person. He was always thinking... calculating. Always working to be ten steps ahead of everyone and everything.

He didn't enjoy working at the Commission. He'd rather be enjoying life with his family, and enjoying a decent cup of coffee. For a while when he was there, he was always aggravated at someone or something.

That was until you came.

Or well, until he met you. You've been working there for a few months already.

You're the most stunning person he's ever laid his eyes on. To make things better, he was over the moon when you became his assistant.

You are absolutely lovely. Not to mention, incredible at your job.

You're sweet, smart, and extremely sensible.

Five loved your company. He was always in a good mood when you're around. He often dreamt about you, not to be taken out of context.

He dreamt of a life with you, seeing as how you two are so compatible.

To put the cherry on the sundae, you made the best coffee he's ever had. That says a lot coming from him.

"Good morning, Five," your captivating voice fills his office.

"Morning, gorgeous," he smiles.

He watches as your cheeks turn a light shade of pink. "You have got to stop calling me things like that."

"Nonsense, everything I call you is fitting."

He leans back in his seat and watches your movements as you move towards him. He takes in your outfit and curses the unprofessional thoughts that invade his head.

Today you were dressed in a knee length black skirt, a white button up blouse, and a black blazer.

The blouse had a few buttons undone which gave a glorious view of your cleavage when you lowered yourself to pick a fallen paper off the floor.

However, he considered himself a gentleman, so he looked away.

"Anyway, I was just about to go and make your coffee. Would it be troublesome if I joined you today?"

He stands up from the chair and strolls over to you. He brushes a strand of hair that sways in front of your face. "You're always welcome to join me, doll."

"Great! I'll be right back," you beam and leave.

To say you enjoyed having Five as your boss was an understatement. He was always kind to you, never let anyone say a bad word about you.

You wouldn't deny the fact that he was an attractive young man. The way he called you pet names that had your stomach flutter made you have a sliver of hope that he liked you.

True, pure love.

It's something you've always dreamed about. Reading it in books and seeing it in films gave you a longing to have someone to spend your life with.

After you finished preparing the two coffees, you walk back to Five's office. Your heels make a sound with every step you take.

You open the door and send a soft smile to your boss. "Welcome back, beautiful."

You break eye contact and place his beverage in front of him. "Hi."

He leans his head in his hands as he rests his elbows on his desk and admires you. "How did I get so lucky," he mumbles, not meaning for you to hear it.

You chew the inside of your cheek, "Get lucky with what?" you ask quietly.

He blinks. Then blinks again. "How did I get so lucky with you? When did I do something to deserve you?"

"Oh, um, t-that's very sweet of-"

"Have you ever taken into consideration that there's a deeper reason why I act the way I do with you?"

"Well, not exactly..." you trail off.

"Hm. Did you ever cogitate about how maybe there's a more meaningful explanation to how I behave around you? One besides getting entertainment from witnessing you blush?"

Your mouth opens slightly, and you are at a loss for words. After a moment, your eyes meet his intense ones. You take a breath, "Are you saying..."

He nods once, "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."

"But what about-"

Before you have the chance to finish your sentence, he strides over in front of your chair, puts his hands on each one of the arm rests, and connects his lips softly onto yours.

He felt you freeze for a split second, before you tilted your head upwards to kiss him back easier.

He drowns in the feeling of your lips. The kiss being shared between you two is better than anything he ever could have imagined.

You both taste of coffee, and he loves it.

You pull back and smile shyly as him. He takes a step back and hops onto the desk, so he's now sitting on it and facing you.

He leans his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together. "I hope after that kiss you'll join me for dinner tomorrow night."

You stand up and smooth your skirt. "I would be delighted."

[dwindlinghaze]

HIII YOU’RE SO AWESOME! I was wondering if I could request a extroverted introvert!fem reader x introverted!Remus, where she is introverted and very sunshiny in public and remus is grumpy but he’s literally madly in love with her? like sarcastic, confident Remus is with this like bubbly and giggly girl and just a cutesie little story about them?

I hope this isn’t too much!

-Anon 🫶🫶

hi, lovelyy! thank you for requesting this! i loved the idea a lot and i hope you don't mind me writing r as girly and feminine :) 🫖👛🫧🪽🎀

sunshine and midnight rain

(remus lupin x reader)

contents : fluff, kissing, sweethearts in the sweetest love 😭🩷

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

when he first saw you walking this morning with the brightest smile ever, he wanted to hold you and forget about everything in schedule today.

he saw you waving to a ravenclaw, blowing the girl a kiss as the two of you laughed. it was so adorable and heart warming. he couldn't believe it.

you plopped down next to him, greeting your boyfriend a good morning.

"morning, angel," he replied, kissing your head with a gentle yet firm pressure.

"how'd you sleep last night?" you asked, rubbing his cheeks softly.

"um good," he replied shortly. "would be better if you were with me but i'll survive," he smiled.

"oh rem, you can always ask me to be with you whenever you want okay?"

"i know, lovie," he replied, kissing you once more on your soft cheek.

when you two first started dating, it was a huge shock to the friend group. you two were the absolute opposite of each other and maybe that's why you two completed each other so well.

remus needs rays of golden sunshine, a beautiful princess-like girl whose heart is veiled with fresh daisies and soft hands to keep himself grounded while you needed those midnight rains to keep your flower field of your heart blooming continuously.

he remembered the first date you two had was on the most whimsical day ever. he laid out a picnic date for the two of you in the middle of a field of wild flowers.

when he saw you walking in from the door, his eyes were met with fleecy skin, sparkly eyes, light pink clothes, and a pure heart to tie them all together.

he couldn't believe it. such a dreamy girl wanted to be on a date with him!

he felt special. lucky. and best.

"you're absolutely stunning," he mumbled in awe as he saw you sitting down next to him, your soft skirt calmly hovering above his leg.

"remus, so are you," you said, smiling at him with a smile so sugary.

remus realised how quiet you were being. but he knew that he's not the cause of it. you were calm and peaceful, enjoying the soft winds surrounding you two.

"i made some food for us both, i hope you're hungry," he said, putting a good amount of food on to the plate he brought.

"mmm looks tasty," you beamed. "you must be a very good cook."

"i try," he smiled weakly. "i hope it isn't too bad, sorry if it is."

you took a portion of it, placing it on your mouth as you hummed in contentment. "it's delicious! do you cook a lot?" you asked.

"i help my mom sometimes, yeah," he blushed, squeezing your soft knuckles.

"oh that's so sweet of you!" you giggled.

he loves you. so very much. he has been looking for you since he first heard his mother reading a romance fairytale when he was a child.

of course he wasn't thinking of you at that very moment. but he was hoping to have a lovely fairytale, he's glad his hope was fulfilled by meeting you.

he knew at the first moment he landed eyes on you, you will wrap his fragile heart in the most precious and endless love. he wasn't mad about it, he knew he will always have you by his side and he can rely on you whenever.

despite his rough and grumpy exterior, inside his heart was painted with your colours of pearls: pale white, pink, and softly glowing.

his friends teased him about it.

"how can she make you so soft and puddly? you're like a stone with us," sirius groaned. they're best of friends. remus is familiar with sirius' hyperbole jokes.

remus didn't reply, he kept on reading.

"moony, what do you call a dark house with pink interior?" sirius asked, one of his jokes.

"hmm?" remus replied, unamused.

"a remus!" sirius roared with laughter, james laughing along as he patted sirius' back for his horrible joke.

usually after a full moon, remus wouldn't even break a smile. he physically couldn't. but ever since you're his, he smiled whenever you visited him at the infirmary.

even james told you about it. "our grumpy remus smiles more often now that he met you," said the boy when you returned from the hospital wing to eat breakfast.

"really?" your heart warmed. you loved making people smile. it felt like you had accomplished something so special. although it's not a hard thing for people to do when you're around.

"yup. he usually sulks around the room after his furry little problem but now he looks... healthier and more alive somehow," sirius said.

"i'm so glad. i think he deserves the best of the best."

at first remus' friends were hesitant about your relationship, afraid that remus' cold demeanour would gloom down your shine but it never did. if anything your shine had brightened him up.

his friends were grateful and happy for remus. they know you're the perfect girl for him. a big part of loving someone else is to love yourself first. and you did that both so wonderfully.

remus isn't scared of you not accepting him for his lycanthropy. though he does have a fear of hurting you one day. that doesn't stop him from loving you and being open to you about himself.

he knew you're open minded. with your bold beliefs of equal rights in society. he wasn't scared. he wasn't in pain. after all the awful things the universe had given him, a lovely sweet girl is there, making the life he has bearable again.

the first night after he told you about his lycanthropy, you wanted to stay for him. but he insisted on you to not to do that and meet him the next morning instead.

no, he wasn't embarrassed of his appearance right after the transformation. his scars don't heal overnight. he physically looked the same the night before and the morning after, except that he's more relaxed the next morning as for the slumber really helped.

he just doesn't want you to be tired. he wanted you to sleep well. having the rest an angel always needs. of course you wanted to be with him before and after. but you know better than to go against him during his weakest point.

you see him the next morning, bringing a bag of chocolates and croissants.

you placed the bag on the bedside table, reaching for his hand instead. he was still asleep, eyes fluttering cause he's dreaming. you caressed his rough and scarred fingers softly, humming a tune.

remus woke up in the most peaceful way ever. seeing you beside him, playing with his fingers. "morning, princess."

you looked over at him, smiling so big. "oh morning, my remus," his heart fluttered when he heard the nickname. he is yours. forever yours.

"you're here, darlin'."

"i am, i brought breakfast for you," you grabbed the bag of chocolate and croissants, opening them.

he sat up, reaching for the pastry but you pushed his hand away, making him frown in confusion. "i will do the work for you. you've been doing so much to me and i want to do this in return," you giggled. "sit back and relax."

"you don't have to," he said.

"i know. i would never do this to anyone except you."

remus smiled at that, opening his mouth to let you feed him. "you're such a doll. you're so good to me and sometimes i feel like i don't deserve this treatment... i'm not good enough."

"rem, don't worry about that," you smiled at him softly, wiping away the drop of chocolate on his chin. "you have to love and accept yourself. i'm here to be with you all along the journey. i want you to be good to your body, be good to yourself and never say such things like that. life becomes good when you love yourself."

"is your life good?" he asked.

"the best," you answered. "i've learned to be grateful for everything- 'cause i have everything," you chuckled, squeezing his knuckles. "maybe i'm not the ideal type of girl in every person''s eyes but i am my type of girl."

"you're everything i aspire to be," remus said, holding his hand over yours over his heart.

"i love you," you said.

"i love you, darlin', i won't ever stop," he smiled.