#devour does studying

[study-with-devour]

- schedule for today :

Maths -

Mechanics : Forces (Y2)

[furiousfinnstan]

URGENT!!!Help Abdul Salam Al-Anqar and his family get through this war in Gaza!!!

(URGENT) THEY ARE AT €3,445 OUT OF €50,000 GOAL

I was asked by @nader5555 to make this, if u cannot donate please please share this post. Copy pasted from a message i was sent:

"Only a Few Hours Left Before We Enter Our First Year of War, Genocide, Starvation, and Displacement A Final Plea from the Heart of Hell: Save Us Before Hope Dies 💔🔥 I am Abdel Salam, and I have nothing left but words written by a trembling hand ✍️. The war has not only destroyed our lives; it has taken everything from us. Our home, which was once our refuge, is now a pile of rubble 🏚️.

My car, my only source of livelihood, was destroyed in a sudden strike 🚗, and the work that sustained us is now a distant memory 💼. Today, I live in an endless nightmare. Under a sun that burns everything in its path 🌞🔥, my family and I sit in a worn-out tent, a tent that shields us neither from the summer heat nor the winter cold ❄️. Insects 🦟 invade the place, diseases consume our bodies 🩺, and my younger siblings cry from hunger and thirst 🍞💧. We have no clean water or a crumb of bread to ease our hunger. Each passing day deepens the weight of this hell we live in.

My Daughter Eman is Dying from Malnutrition 😨 My daughter Eman suffers from malnutrition; I have nothing to feed or treat her with. The deterioration of her health is killing me slowly. Every glance in her eyes, every pain she endures, crushes my heart 💔. How can I explain to her that what was once our hope has now turned into nothing but a mirage? The Night Only Adds to Our Pain 🌙 The night does not bring us rest; it only adds to our pain. We sleep on hard ground, feeling the cold in every bone of our bodies 🥶, with nothing but pieces of cardboard 📦 to cover us. My wife Aya cries in silence 🥺 as she watches our daughter’s future fade before her eyes. My mother Eman suffers from illness and needs urgent medical care 🩺💊.

My Father Ahmed is Sick with Cancer and Needs Emergency Treatment My father Ahmed, who is sick with cancer, needs emergency treatment outside Gaza, and the cost of his treatment is at least $10,000, not including accommodation. As he suffers from severe pain, I cannot provide the treatment he needs due to our dire situation.

My Siblings Are in Constant Suffering ⚰️ My brother Omar was unable to continue his studies due to the situation. My brother Nader could not take his high school exams, and my younger brother Mohammad suffers from brittle bones and needs treatment we cannot afford. Every day we live brings us one step closer to the end. Death surrounds us from every side: if not from hunger 🍽️, then from illness 🦠. And if not from illness, then from the despair that devours our souls. Where is Humanity? Where is the World? 🌍💔 We want to leave the devastated Gaza Strip to escape the machinery of destruction and killing and the severity of hunger and poverty. The cost of travel for each person is $5,000, and we are a family of seven members, bringing the total cost to $35,000.

Where are the compassionate hearts? Are you waiting for us to disappear into the depths of this suffering? Are you waiting until death takes us before you act? We are drowning, and we don’t have enough strength to scream for help 🆘. Will you let this cry go unanswered? 😭 Your donation today is our last thread of hope. With the little support I received, I was able to buy a simple phone 📱 to reach out to you. But the bitter truth is that what I and my family need is much greater. We are not asking for much; just enough to save our lives from this hell 🔥. Every donation, no matter how small, could be the difference between life and death for us 👐. Don’t Let Us Disappear in the Darkness of Suffering 🌑 Don’t let our story end here. Be the light that guides us to salvation 🕯️✨.

With every tear, with every pain, I write this final plea to you, Abdel Salam."

taglist

@butchniqabi @xinakwans

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@biconicfinn @stopmotionguy

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@schoolteacher

[anantaru]

you say he's too small — love and deepspace

including. zayne, xavier, rafayel, sylus, caleb

warnings. fem! reader, brat taming, dirty talk, rough syx, big dicks, they took it personal, petnames used: darling, sweetheart, princess, brat, pretty girl

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ zayne

not the reaction you've expected yet zayne laughs like you've straight up offended him— a low, vicious sound dragging through the lengths of his throat as his hands dig into your flesh, dragging you down on his cock until your breathing was caught sharp in your throat.

"you wanna run your mouth, pretty girl?" his voice sinks low, dragging through the heat between you like smoke, his gaze glinting with something cruel and sweet, "then take all of it, come on, take every inch."

he grabs your ass with roughened palms, pulling you flush against him as he fucks into you with a brutal snap of his hips, "really, so small?" he spits, "you really wanna lie like that when you're leaking down your thighs?" as he starts pounding into you like he's trying to prove a point, thrust until your slick walls take his shape, pulse around him like he's the only thing you've ever known as each thrust felt heavier than the last— utterly thick and brutal rubbing on your walls, so deep it made your eyes roll back.

"can't even handle me," he growls, "you keep trying to squirm away— where's all that bratty shit show now?" you're crying from overstimulation, in fact, everything was just way too hot and too wet, your ass tingling where his hands kept slapping it, squeezing and holding you into place.

"darling," he pants, "you said it, yeah? now you take it," and zayne doesn't stop, not until he's spilling into you with a broken groan, pressing down so you cannot move an inch, grinding through the aftershocks just to make sure it sticks.

"that feel small?" he exhales through his teeth, something like a laugh dying in his throat as he sinks deeper into your warmth, "cause you'll be leaking for me for hours."

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ xavier

"...what did you just say?" confusion draws over xavier's facial features as his voice drops into a tone that doesn't even sound human anymore— turning quite disbelieving as his pupils blow wide, staring at you like he might devour you whole.

"you're really gonna say i'm small in the middle of it?" to tease him a little further, you decide to utter it once more, just to see what he'll do and fuck— he snaps, rightfully so as he grabs your thighs, spreads you open with both hands, wide enough that it burns, so you can see the outline of him as he slides back in, "does that feel small?" he snarls, voice thick with possession and something even worse— the urgency to prove you wrong.

"look at your pussy, baby, swallowing me like it's starving— look how fucking deep i am," and you do look as it ruins you, the way he stretches you, the fat base of his cock dragging against something so sensitive it made your stomach seize up, the wet squelch of your cunt fluttering around every inch he buries inside.

he draws back just enough to look, eyes gleaming like he's studying something rare and irreplaceable as his palm snaps sharp against your inner thigh, not out of rage but precision— a sound so wet and filthy it bloomed between you as he watches the recoil with a kind of cold interest that bordered on worship.

"don't lie, you're dripping, look, and i've barely even started moving," as he turns his head down and spits— right where you're joined, thumb smearing the globule of saliva into your clit and mixing it up with the filthy mess, like he wanted to make you see how wrong you were.

"i'll ruin you slow," xavier promises, voice husky, "fuck you until you can't sit without thinking of me, if this is small—" he thrusts deep and laughs, your vision whitening out, "—then you better pray i never really stretch you open."

your nails dig into his back like you're trying to anchor yourself to reality, in fact, to him, to anything, really— because you see, the way he fits inside you was devastating, your stomach coiling and wracked with the agony of being sprawled too rough, his cum thick and endlessly coming in white, warm ribbons as he groans with sin and need, as if your bodies were made only to drown together.

your breath catches onto every gasp as if even the air has become too much for you to endure, your hips stuttering and grinding without meaning, most importantly without will, just chasing the friction that made you feel alive as his cock was the only thing grounding you towards your pleasure.

a fractured hiss slips from him, the sound of a man too far gone as his jaw clenched, eyes wild, like your cunt was some divine punishment and he was utterly grateful to be ruined by it, "that's right, feel how big i really am, sweetheart."

"say it," xavier hisses like he's savoring it, like he wanted you to hear the desperation in his lungs, "say i'm not small— say you love how i fill you up," and you do, because it's true, correct? every single inch of you was wrecked by now, opened up around his cock like you were made to stay there.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ rafayel

"oh?" rafayel gives you an intrigued look, his eyes flicking to where you're spread wide for him, all flushed and aching and already gushing around his cock yet spelling out something so laughable, "small?" you don't get the chance to respond before he pushes in with one fast snap of hips— rougher than he had any right to go as he smiles when your legs begin to shake immediately.

"funny," he hums, "considering the way you're clenching down on me like you cannot let go," he stops mid thrust when you whisper it once more, his cock stilled inside within a long pause as you can hear the tick of his jaw when he exhales.

he leans over you now, hand palming your breasts hard enough to make you gasp out into his mouth, "but you're trembling," he drawls underneath his exhale with his jaw locked, like the feel of your walls tensing around him was too much— like it was destructive on him of how tight you were, how greedy and how bratty you were to him yet rafayel still wanted more.

the man watches you like he's analyzing a painting, "you seem to struggle from something so small?"

"you feel that, no?" he growls, hips grinding in slow, devastating circles, "that's me stretching you out, filling every fucking inch— claiming you, so tell me again, come on, who's too small?"

at this point, you cannot even form the simplest of words, drooling down your own chin as your cunt was squelching and twisting around him loud enough to echo within your bedroom as he just grins filthily.

"that's what i thought," rafayel whispers, his tongue moves in slick circles over your tits, voice low like a secret carved out of sin as if he's telling your body what he's going to do without ever asking, like your entire soul was already promised to him, "you're gonna keep me inside for hours, sweetheart, i'll keep cumming until your body knows the shape of me."

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ sylus

what got sylus the most was the way you've said it to him— quite soft yet smug, with a saccharine coated pout like you're honestly disappointed in his ability to pleasure you.

what else was he supposed to do other than still himself inside you in shock, the deafening silence that followed next not really being silence, because in reality the atmosphere was charged— you could compare it to an animatic stillness as his grip on your wrists were slowly tightening just enough to make you shiver under him, "you know what you just said?" his voice echoes softly against your cheek, too soft, in fact, as if he was trying the words out on his tongue like a wine he's about to spit out.

the laugh he lets out next was the last warning you'll get, because sylus doesn't say anything else— he just grabs both of your ankles and folds you in half, hips snapping forward with a brutal slam that punches the breath straight out of your chest.

"so small?" he grits, voice breaking into something high and ragged, hips jerking as he fucks you into the mattress like he's attempting to fuck the thought straight out of your darling skull, "you're creaming all over me like you need it, and you've got the nerve to lie like that?"

your tits bounce from the force of his hips, and of course, of course, his hands are all over them, squeezing and pinching your nipples, spreading the mounds of flesh as if trying to claim every inch he's obsessed over as he leans in, biting down just under your nipple, growling, "gonna call me small when you can't even take all of me?"

"all this mess, and you still wanna lie?" and you feel it— the tension between your legs, the burning stretch and your swollen folds, how slick your pussy sounded every time he slams himself back in, every twitch of his thickness dragging against your soaked walls, your body straining and holding, straining and holding, the sheer pressure of him inside you enough to make your vision go halo, like you're being reshaped from the inside out into something that belonged to him.

alas, you put a mental sticker inside your head to never lie to sylus again— you simply can't, in fact, you're already crying from the rough pace he's going for, shaking so bad he has to hold you in place by your wrists just to keep going.

you feel him add additional grinds on your pussy whenever you swallowed him whole, his tip pinching against your sweet spot every time he sinks too deep— like he's reshaping your frame, like your body was always meant to swell around the size of him.

you sob out his name while being stuffed full, thighs shaking from the pressure as he bears down on you, a rhythm built from slow destruction, the pressure inside you mounting as your belly contracts tight, your cunt milking him raw and seizing from how thick and hard he moves and shoves his hips, "there, there's your truth, not so small now, am i?"

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ caleb

caleb pauses, his brain rewiring and blinking down at you in complete disbelief, "you really think that's funny?" he asks you earnestly mid thrust, like he didn't just bottom out and leave you totally whiny underneath his broad figure.

you nod devilishly, lips curled up into a smug little grin when, well, that's what does it, really— with that he leans into you like a challenge, tucking a hand behind your head with his fingers tangled tight in your hair, fucking through the tightness of your hole, all the way until you choke up his name, your smirk suddenly crumbling.

caleb kisses the corner of your tear stricken eye, his ragged breathing warm against your cheek as he coos, "not so small now, huh? it's like your body knows who it belongs to."

the man only just begun and doesn't think your thighs shaking around his waist was enough for you to understand to never say that again, not when your mouth falls open with a strangled moan of his name, not when you attempt to whine that it's too much when he just shushes you sweetly with his soft lips.

"hm, i forgot i'm dating a comedic," he says it like it hurts him and for a second, you see it flicker in his eyes, real heartbreak, or just feigned innocence? before his gaze twists into something dark, near devotional, "princess, oh princess," he coos, grabbing your face in both hands and fucking into you slow and tender like he's trying to reach your heart from underneath, "no, you don't mean that, you're just being cruel, aren't you? just trying to get me to break?"

his cock pulses deep inside you, thick and dragging over every trembling ridge of your cunt as your toes curl and your legs kick just a little, involuntary from the stretch, "you feel that, baby? you feel how your pussy's milking me already? tell me— does something small make your breath hitch like that?"

to caleb, there was nothing more mesmerizing than hearing your voice falling apart, adoring it whenever he's making you taste the consequences of every bratty little lie you've told him, "oh, you're perfect, you're so damn tight i can feel everything, you're gonna take it all for me, every inch, yeah? and then i'll ask if you still think it's small, okay?"

your whines come out in shattered bursts, your vision blurring as your body clenches around him, mind fraying at the edges from the slow, relentless drags of his thick cock grazing at your walls, in fact, you're shaking under him as he plays with your body, brain emptied by the way he keeps filling you up.

©2025 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[dreadbornesaint-moved]

"Any chance I could use this two week notice thing to quit being a Saint?"

[ice-man-goes-bwoah]

Wanted||Remmick x fem!reader

Summary— when Remmick wants something he gets it.

Word count —1065

A/n— this Irish vampire from sinners has me in a chokehold and he would definitely get me to come outside while he was singing rocky road to Dublin

Y/N was tired.

Tired of the knocks at the window.

Tired of the whispered promises through her dreams.

Tired of Remmick.

But still she stood by the door, fingers ghosting the lock, pulse thumping like it already knew what she was about to do.

“Come outside, sweetheart,” his voice purred through the crack in the frame. “I promise I’ll be gentle… for now.”

She rolled her eyes. “You never shut up, do you?”

A chuckle. Low, dark. “Not when I want something.”

And he wanted her.

It had been weeks of him slipping through the edges of her life dark eyes watching from alleys, grinning at her reflection in mirrors he didn’t belong in, finding her even when she swore she was alone.

She hated how he got under her skin. Hated more how her skin missed it when he didn’t show.

Tonight, she cracked.

The door opened.

Remmick didn’t lunge. He stepped forward like he had all the time in the world, like he knew she was already his. And maybe he was right.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to say yes,” he murmured, fingers skimming down her cheek, his touch colder than it should’ve been. “You’re gonna thank me when it’s done.”

Y/N didn’t answer. She couldn’t not when his lips crashed into hers like a storm, not when he shoved her back against the wall, and not when his hands slid beneath her clothes like they were searching for something sacred.

The world narrowed to heat and breath and his body pressed against hers.

She didn’t realize what he was doing until his mouth left hers and dropped to her neck.

Didn’t register the shift from kiss to hunger.

Not until she felt the sharp sting

The bite.

She gasped more shocked than in pain and he growled against her skin.

“I told you,” he breathed, licking at the wound, sealing it with something that felt too much like a kiss. “You’re mine.”

And god help her, she wanted to be.

Her knees buckled, and he caught her of course he did. Held her like something precious, even as her blood still warmed his lips.

Y/N’s breath hitched, heart hammering in her ears. Everything felt too much his touch, the air, the throb of the bite pulsing in sync with the ache building low in her stomach.

“What did you do to me?” she whispered, but even her voice trembled like it wanted more.

Remmick smiled, slow and cruel and adoring all at once. “Everything you asked for without saying it.”

“You’re insane,” she hissed, hands pushing at his chest.

But he didn’t move. Instead, he leaned in again, mouth brushing her ear. “Then what does it say about you… for letting me in?”

His hand slid beneath her shirt again, fingertips trailing heat and sparks across her skin. She hated how her body arched into him, traitorous and wanting.

“You feel it now, don’t you?” he murmured. “The hunger. The way your pulse is already changing. The fire under your skin.”

She did. God, she did. It burned. It bloomed. She wanted to claw it out or let it devour her whole.

“You turned me,” she said, eyes wide with fury, confusion, and something far more dangerous: need.

He nodded, kissing the corner of her mouth. “And now I’ll ruin you properly.”

Then his mouth was on her again—rougher, deeper. Her back hit the wall with a soft thud, and he lifted her with ease, like she weighed nothing, like she was his to handle.

His hips ground into hers, and this time she moaned. Loud. Unfiltered.

The worst part? She didn’t even care.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling, scraping. His name was a curse on her tongue and a prayer in her throat.

“I hate you,” she whispered.

“No,” he growled, biting her lower lip, “you just hate how much you want me.”

And then he was inside her, and all the words vanished.

He moved like he owned her body like he’d studied every inch of it long before tonight. Every thrust made her breath hitch, her fingers dig into his back, her head fall back with a broken cry.

He fucked her like he was starving.

Like the bite wasn’t enough.

Like her pleasure was the last thing tethering him to control.

Her skin felt like fire and ice all at once every nerve exposed, every touch electric. And it wasn’t just him anymore. Something inside her was shifting. Awakening. The hunger he warned her about spread like smoke in her chest, wrapping around her ribs, curling in her gut.

She clawed at him—furious, frenzied, lost in the storm he’d pulled her into.

“Remmick—” she gasped, voice wrecked.

“I’ve got you,” he growled into her throat. “Let it happen. Let me happen.”

And she did.

Her orgasm tore through her like a scream. Her vision blurred, her cry strangled in her throat. He followed with a deep, desperate moan, burying his face in her neck like he could sink into her completely.

And then

Silence.

The room swam back into focus in slow, creeping waves. Her body was shaking, oversensitive and half-numb, her heart racing like it wanted to leap from her chest. She blinked, trying to remember who she was.

Remmick pulled back, just enough to look at her. His eyes glowed faintly inhuman. “You feel it now, don’t you?”

Y/N’s breath caught.

She did.

Her senses were too sharp. The thrum of the city outside felt like it was under her skin. The taste of blood still lingered at the back of her throat and it wasn’t all his.

Her hands went to her neck. The wound had already healed.

“No…” she whispered. “No, you didn’t—”

“I did,” he said softly. Almost reverent.

“You bastard.” Her fist slammed into his chest, weak but furious. “You took everything from me.”

Remmick caught her wrist, gently. Not to stop her but to feel her.

“I gave you more than you’ll ever understand,” he murmured. “And you’re not angry because I turned you.”

She shook her head, blinking hard against the tears. “Then what am I?”

“You’re angry because now you want what I am.”

She couldn’t answer.

Because deep down under the panic, the betrayal, the fear she did.

And that terrified her more than anything else.

[sv3t1ana]

Husband!Sukuna is such a fucking munch.

He’s not just any munch, but a four-course meal kind of a munch. A drop to his knees like it’s holy communion kind of munch. A lives, breathes, and thinks about your pussy kind of munch.

The immortal being would rather die than admit it, of course. He’s a King. The walking apocalypse. And yet, he’s also the kind of man who subtly tracks your water intake. “Drink more,” he growls, shoving a glass into your hands.

You’d ask why, only for him to grunt and look away.

But you know

Oh, you know.

Because the second you sit on his face, he’s like a starving man at a feast, tongue already teasing your clit with obscene expertise. He pretends he’s doing you the favor, when really, this is his daily act of devotion.

And oh… how he loves to be used.

He’d never say it aloud, but the way your fingers fist in his hair, tugging with enough force to make anyone else hiss in pain. The way your thighs tremble around his head, threatening to suffocate him as you ride his tongue like you’re mad at it. That’s his idea of bliss.

He won’t moan, not audibly. He’s too proud for that. But the low, gravelly groans he lets slip, the harsh, guttural breaths dragged from his throat as he devours you, yeah, those count. Especially when they vibrate against your dripping folds and you nearly scream.

He’s so precise with it too. Tongue pressure, perfect. Circles ‘round and ‘round, faster, then slow again, just to tease. And when he slips two thick digits into your soaked cunt, curling just right, yeah, he knows exactly when to stop, when to let you shake and stutter and ride it out on his face.

Because he loves it when you gush for him.

And not just once.

No, Sukuna’s rule is two orgasms on his tongue minimum before his cocks even make an appearance.

(And to be honest, both of them are twitching the whole time, leaking so much pre that it’d be embarrassing for any man who had the capacity for shame.)

He watches you shatter for him each time, studies it like art, like he’s deciphering a language only he and your cunt understand, a dialect that lives somewhere between divinity and delirium.

And after he’s ruined you with his mouth, he doesn’t ask if you want to be fucked after.

He already knows.

Your poor, overstimulated pussy gets bullied by his thick cocks before you can even catch your breath. That delicious switch from fluttery aftershocks to the aching stretch of him filling you up again, that’s the sweet spot.

He lives for that.

You live for that.

You even teased him once, whispered all innocent, “Wanna hear you moan for me next time.”

He didn’t respond. Just scoffed. A King doesn’t moan.

Except he does, all low and quiet, more growl than anything human, when you gush on his face and tug his hair like you’ll never let go. And even though he pretends not to care, you notice how his eyes roll back just a little.

Because even in the middle of massacre, blades soaked in mortal blood, his mind will wander. Not to strategy or victory, but you.

To your slick folds, your breathy whimpers, the way your thighs clench when he flattens his tongue just right.

It’s unhealthy, really. Obsession doesn’t even begin to cover it.

And even when he’s mad at you he’s still eating you out like he’s trying to pull contrition from your cunt. Like if you cum hard enough, you’ll know how sorry you are.

Every night starts and ends the same:

His face buried between your thighs, tongue relentless, breath heavy, fingers buried deep.

And you’ll whisper that same damn line every time you’re close,

“’Kuna, you’re such a fucking munch.”

more husband!Sukuna hcs here

[nana-au]

𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇! 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 the crowd (me) chants...

warnings: MDNI, afab/fem! receiving cunnilingus, just another short horny drabble

love love love thinking about munch! mark who devours you like it's his second job. whether it's on his bed, in your car, on the couch, in the shower... he loves savoring the taste of you on his tongue....

munch! mark who gets on his knees while you two are showering together, his big hands spread apart your thighs, guiding them onto his shoulders - forcing you to grab the walls of your shower.

munch! mark who looks up at you with his sweet little puppy eyes - so excited to stuff his face into your folds. he'll always have something so playfully mark - but deviously sexy to say like, "been waiting all day for my favorite treat"

munch! mark whose cock is twitching with excitement, hitting his stomach while he grins up at you. you're shaking with anticipation - knowing damn well he's about to give you the best head of your life, outdoing the hundredth times before then.

munch! mark who can literally hold his breath for two weeks and he sure as hell won't let you forget it. the way he licks up and down your folds, refusing to unlatch his mouth from you and completely unafraid to get his face messy. his nose prods your clit while his tongue is exploring deep inside you.

munch mark! who you don't have to worry about keeping yourself upright for - he's strong enough to do that himself. and thank god, because with each lap of his tongue your bones turn more and more into jelly.

munch! mark who makes you cum until you're shaking because he's so proud of his affect on you. he loves having to support your weight while you shiver above him - your grip on his wet hair making his stomach stir with want.

walk with me for this next part ...

munch! mark's first time eating your pussy:

you're in his bed wearing nothing but his t-shirt - his face buried between your thighs. when you look down at him his eyes are locked onto yours - his lids low and sleepy while he licks languidly at your pulsing clit. his chocolate brown swirls study your facial expressions with every flick of his tongue. it's intense. almost as intense as the head he's giving you; slow and torturous while he's figuring out what feels the best for you.

you're biting your bottom lip to keep quiet because his family is just downstairs but it's hard when he starts to pick up speed - his hand reaching up to clasp yours when he hears you gasp suddenly.

he's still watching you, watching the fluttering of your lashes when his tongue reaches deep inside you and he can't help but grind himself into the mattress beneath him. his pre-cum latches onto the fabric of his sweats while he gets off to you coming undone by his tongue.

munch mark! who after some experience loves to eat you out from behind - ass up and head down. his thumbs keep your folds spread for him while he all but makes out with your cunt. you feel his tongue everywhere - it's overwhelmingly delicious and each time he laps at your cunt it feels better than the previous time... because if mark is good at something it's learning - no, training. mark is definitely training himself to eat your pussy so good you could never find that kind of pleasure from anyone else.

munch! mark who would never ask for anything back... and when you insist on returning the favor you'll occasionally find the evidence of his own orgasm sticky in his pants. he'll nervously laugh, giving you a shrug. he just couldn't help himself! not when you wriggled under his body for an hour.

(does anyone else want to clean up his jizz with their tongue before giving him the sloppiest top of his life ? or just me...😔)

[sincerelyneo]

sweat | l.hc

“let me touch you where you like it...let me do it for ya”

📀now playing: sweat by zayn

❯ summary: Hyuck is nothing if not a pleaser. What can he say? He just loves eating pussy—your pussy.

❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, smut

❯ words: 1.9k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, oral sex (fem!receiving), squirting, fingering, overstimulation, dirty talk, swearing, literally just me contributing to the haechan biggest pussy eater agenda.

Hyuck is nothing if not a pleaser. 

Which sounds so generous—sweet, even—like he’s doing it just for you. But he’s not. He’s a selfish man, and nothing makes him harder, nothing gets him off faster, than pleasing, satisfying, and absolutely ruining. It’s wired into him, like instinct. Born to eat, breathe, and fuck pussy—your pussy.

And that’s exactly why he’s still up, waiting for you to get home from work. Why the second you walk through the door and drop onto the couch with a tired huff, he’s already burying his face in your neck, lips warm and greedy. And when you sigh about how your boss has been driving you insane, he nearly smiles—because he knows he’s got the perfect remedy.

A perfect remedy that starts with him carrying you to bed, tearing off your clothes to strip you bare, and putting his hands exactly where he knows you need them. His voice low, breathless, begging—“Please… just let me do this for you. Let me make it better, baby. Let me take the ache away.”

And you do. You let him give you all his attention, let him show you just how badly he wants you. And damn, it’s obvious—because he wastes no time pulling your ass to the edge of the bed and diving between your legs. His perfect, wet lips wrap around your clit, sucking, lapping, teasing.

“Fuck, Hyuck…” you whine, back arching as you try to pull away.

But that won’t do. That’s not how this works—how he works. He won’t let you run away from him. His hand presses down on your stomach, holding you in place, forcing you to stay where he can devour you the way he knows you need. Hell, he needs your pussy in the perfect spot for his mouth to do its job—taking, tasting, making you forget everything but him.

And when he sees the whites of your eyes, watches them roll all the way back in your head, he knows he’s doing exactly what he set out to do. He could watch you like this for hours—knees jerking, toes curling, chest heaving—all because of nothing but his tongue. He can’t take his eyes off you—he won’t—not when seeing you bite down on your lip to stop the noises gets him so fucking hard.

Except he wants those noises—needs them. 

He pulls his lips away from your clit, pupils darkening at the sight of how puffy and swollen he’s made it—his work, his mess. Then he hooks his arms under your knees and pulls you flush against his mouth, tongue dragging a slow, filthy stripe from your soaking entrance all the way back up to your bud. The second you shudder and whine, a sick thrill shoots straight to his cock. That’s the reaction he craves—needy, helpless, all for him.

So he does it again. And again. This time letting his tongue push inside you, teasing and prodding, fucking into you with lazy strokes while his nose bumps your clit at just the right angle. 

It’s all too much for you. The way his tongue moves. Your thighs twitch, hips bucking against his face, chasing every bit of friction he gives you. And despite your squirming, he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t let up. Because the cocky bastard lives for this—lives to watch you fall apart on nothing but his mouth.

So you play his little game, propping yourself up on your elbows to meet his gaze through dazed, heavy-lidded eyes. And fuck—he looks like he belongs there, buried between your legs, staring up at you with that sweet, doe-eyed look. Watching. Studying. Waiting for every twitch, every breath, every moan—so he knows exactly how to make his next move. Because somehow, he knows your body better than you do.

Hyuck notices the way your eyes go heavy, lashes fluttering, and takes it as his cue. He sinks a finger into you, knuckle deep, sliding in with ease after working you so damn wet.

Your eyes squeeze shut, a soft, desperate gasp escaping you. “Oh my god—Hyuck!”

“It’s okay, baby,” he coos. “You’re doing so good for me. So fucking hot—holy shit,” he groans low in his throat when he slips a second finger in and you take it without hesitation, clenching around him. “I don’t deserve you.”

You shake your head, barely able to keep your voice steady. “Yes you do,” you pant, eyes fluttering. “No one else—fuck—no one else could make me feel like this. Oh my god.”

He already knew that—but damn, does he love hearing you say it. Loves knowing he’s carved out space in your mind, ruined you so much that there’s no one else who even comes close. 

And that’s exactly why he latches onto your clit again—rewarding you for stroking his ego. He smiles against your pussy, moaning into it, sending filthy, electric vibrations straight through your core while his fingers keep fucking you deep and relentless.

So relentless that everything next hits fast. 

Your back arches off the bed, fingers fisting the sheets as his tongue flicks and sucks, perfectly synced with the curl of his fingers inside you. Your thighs try to clamp around his head, but his grip is iron-tight, keeping you spread and helpless while he works you through it.

“Hyuck—fuck—I’m gonna—” you gasp, breath catching on the edge of it. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t, baby,” he groans against you. “Wanna feel you cum on my tongue.”

And you do—your body seizing with the force of your orgasm, legs shaking, pussy clenching hard around his fingers as a cry rips from your throat. He doesn’t stop, not for a second. Just keeps licking you through it, moaning, dragging it out until you’re trembling beneath him, wrecked and breathless.

And he’s not done. He never is. 

“Look at you,” he breathes, pulling away just long enough to let you catch your breath. “So fucking beautiful when you cum.” His hands are firm on your legs, keeping you spread as he leans back in, lips trailing up your inner thighs, kissing, nipping, before finally meeting your swollen pussy again. “Keep these legs open for me.”

Your body jerks, more sensitive than before, when he licks another familiar stripe up your drenched slit. He chuckles darkly. “We’re just getting started, baby.”

“Hyuck—”

“Shh, don’t talk,” he whispers, his breath hot and teasing against your sensitive skin. “Let me do this for you. I want to.”

You moan, not just because it feels so damn good, but because the fact that he wants to do this—wants to make you cum, without asking for anything in return—is so beyond hot. He licks at your pussy again, that same intoxicating desire driving him as he teases and works you over.

Your fingers thread through his hair, guiding him closer, though he doesn’t need the help. You do, though. You need something to anchor you, to ground yourself from how hot he is—how hot he’s making you, getting you to writhe and squirm for him so easily.

You can feel the heat spreading through your body, sweat starting to bead on your forehead, slipping between your breasts, and trailing down the exposed curve of your stomach. It’s almost too much, too unfair—you're laid out, wriggling beneath him, while he remains fully clothed, the outline of his cock pressing hard and solid against the fabric of his sweats. 

He’s such a tease. 

But Hyuck doesn’t care—because this isn’t about him. It’s all about you. How good he can make you feel, how deep he can make you burn as you sweat for him. He wants to lose himself in every inch of you. 

And when he sees your skin start to slick with sweat, your thighs trembling, legs quivering like leaves, as he tastes you, he knows he’s already beyond the point of no return. He’ll forever be a man desperate to please you…

Which, frankly, is fine—because you’re certain your body belongs to him, utterly and completely. At his mercy permanently.

“Hyuck, please…I–”

You try to speak, to beg him to stop, to beg him to never stop, but all that comes out is a series of incoherent moans and gasps.

Hyuck's fingers curl inside you, stroking your sweet spot with precision, making you see stars. Your back arches off the bed, your body contorting in ways you never thought possible… and oh God—

“Hyuck—think I’m gonna—fuck!”

Your pussy starts to squirt, a rush of warm liquid spilling onto the bed as your second orgasm hits you. Hyuck’s eyes widen, lighting up with excitement. For a second, he almost just wants to watch, struck dumb by the sight, because fuck—he’s never made you do that before. But awe quickly gives way to greed. That insatiable part of him takes over—the part that needs to taste, to claim every bit of the mess you’ve made.

He groans, tongue lapping at your release, licking up every drop like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted (it is). He doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. Because now he’s seen it, felt it, tasted it—all he wants is more.

“Goddamn, baby,” he growls against your pussy, lips shiny, face slick with your juices. “You’re so fucking filthy—look at this mess you made for me.”

Your cheeks flush. A part of you wants to hide, to cover your face behind trembling palms, from just how messy, how vulnerable you are. But then you remember—this is Hyuck. Your Hyuck. The man who would never let you feel embarrassed about anything—especially not for cumming like this.

His eyes flick up, wide and wild, like he’s just broken something in you… and unlocked something in himself.

“We’re doing that again, and again,” he groans, breathless, voice vibrating against your dripping cunt. “Shit—look at you. Dripping down your thighs, so fucking hot.”

You try to squirm away, legs trembling, overstimulated beyond belief—but he doesn’t let you go. Doesn’t even think about it. His hands clamp down on your hips, holding you in place. 

“No, I’m not done,” he mutters, tongue already diving back in, sloppy and ruthless, licking up every drop and dragging more out of you. “Just one more, baby,” he pleads. “Give me one more—please. Would and will do anything to see you squirt like that again.”

Your body jerks with every swipe of his tongue—every slow, punishing drag across your clit. It’s too much, too slick, too wet, too hot. Your legs kick, twitching helplessly. 

“Hyuck, I—fuck—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he growls, mouth never leaving your pussy. “You’re gonna cum for me again. Gonna keep cumming until this sweet little pussy begs me to stop.”

And you do. You cum again—harder this time—your whole body seizing, back arching off the bed as you scream his name. His tongue keeps moving, lips wrapping around your clit, fingers sliding back inside you, curling deep, fucking you through wave after wave of pure, maddening overstimulation.

“Fuck,” he pants, groaning as you squeeze around him. “So messy. So fucking perfect. Don’t stop—give me another one.”

And with the way his fingers keep slamming into your sweet spot, and his mouth keeps sucking like he’s addicted to the taste of you, you give him more than just another one—and then some.

Because he’ll keep going until the windows fog up, the sheets are soaked, and neither of you remembers what time it is.

Because Hyuck is nothing if not a pleaser.

[fleurvi]

Service top Vi

cw: smut (minors dni), fem!reader

Vi is whipped. She's completely head over heels for you. She carries boxes, your bags, your heels when you're drunk, you. She pays for you to get your nails done and buys you dinner. And, to everyone else's chagrin, she won't shut the fuck up about you. She constantly finds ways to make any conversation she engages in about you. At some point, she just starts referring to you as her wife because she's so fucking sure about your relationship.

Her devotion doesn't end when you get home though. She decides the best way to show devotion is through worship. She lays you down against the bedsheets, voice firm as she tells you how beautiful you look. She travels kisses over every inch of skin she can get to, offering compliments as she goes. Her hands are gentle as she undresses you. When she travels back up to your mouth and gives you a proper kiss, you feel lightheaded, overwhelmed by the feeling of love she pours into it.

She shuffles down the bed, using her strong hands to part your thighs as she lowers between them. Her mouth is right above your pussy, and you're so worked up you might cry. She doesn't mean to keep you waiting; you're just so pretty, and she loves to stare at you. When you whine out a soft please, threading your hand through her hair, she shakes her head.

“Baby, you don't have to beg. I'll give you whatever you want,” she says as she finally swipes her tongue over your pussy, sucking your clit into her mouth. She moans against you like she's devouring a five-course meal. She is.

She eats you out with the same passion she throws into everything she does for you. Your pleasure is her pleasure. She's studied your body like the piece of artwork it is. She knows how to elicit the most incredible noises from you. She presses two fingers to your hole, smiling against your cunt at the way you moan when she pushes them inside you. The added stimulation pushes you towards your orgasm. Her other arm is steady and holds you down as she works on pleasing you. Taking care of you is always her top priority. The mere act of pleasing you is a stress reliever. Though she'd deny her obvious praise kink if you asked her, she can't help the way she's encouraged when you tell her how good she makes you feel.

Your orgasm hits you, and your grip on Vi's hair becomes harsher, tugging at the hair as she continues to work you through it. “Atta girl, let it all out”, she praises as your back arches away from the sheet. When you come back down, Vi pulls her fingers from you and licks them clean. She's a little obnoxious with her noises but just wants to show you how much she loves your taste.

“Was that good for you, baby?”

You nod.

“Good. Now, how many more do you want?”

[webbluvrsugar]

earlyseasons!spencer making you squirt.

cw: doesn’t mean sub!spencer, it’s more like eager Spencer experimenting on reader, written mostly for funsies.

Every since you and Spencer have been messing — fucking — around, you’ve noticed that he’s been a little shy, at least at first, his touch has been gentle but also… experimental, the way he looks at you when you’re under him and pushes you just a little harder almost makes you feel like like he’s studying you, testing something on you. But he’s a profiler, he’s learned that you don’t mind, so when he comes with the proposition of trying to make you squirt, you’re doubtful, specially as he pushes you down on your bed — already naked.

“Spencer, you don’t really need to do this, I —“ you try to speak but he’s quick to interrupt you, his hands running down your thighs.

“I know, I just.. I just want to try something new, just for a bit,” he hushes, eyes looking up to you for approval as he puts away his glasses and when Spencer says ‘just for a bit’ he is indeed just… lying, lying to your face.

His tongue licks a fat strip up your folds, it’s bold, something that he’d at first would hesitate to do, gently circling your clit before he attaches his lips onto it, gently sucks and his fingers go up to spread you further.

Spencer’s tongue feels good, but by now, you know that he would’ve already tried to stick a finger or two in you, but he doesn’t, it almost seems like he’s trying to reach this personal goal of his all with his mouth, and he’s doing a good job at it, because his tongue prods at your entrance and you arch your back, softly moaning, head throwing back and meeting your pillow.

“How does that feel?” He questions as if you need to answer for him to know it.

But still, you nod again, “Good,” you whisper, hand going down to grab at the sheets.

“Yeah, I can tell.” He grins, cocky, before his mouth latches onto your cunt again.

He devours you, nose bumping into your clit as his tongue precisely chooses where to run through, your breath being taken from your lungs when it caresses your insides one more time, the warm tip of the muscle moving within you.

“Spence,” you whimper, your knees struggling to keep themselves in place as he pulls back and pays attention to your swollen pearl one more time.

“Close?” He asks, tongue licking up a few more times through your folds, trying to get all up in there.

“Mh — Mhm,” you moan, a pleased sigh following suit.

“Did you know that —“ he pauses, “statistically, only thirty-five to fifty percent of women have experienced squirting mid sex—“ he presses an open mouthed kiss to your cunt. “But it depends on the method, I’ve read about it, we can try and see if this will be the one for you.”

And for someone who’s so used to talking, Spencer finally goes to quiet after a while and focus on your pussy, paying extra attention to what you like, guiding himself with your moans and gentle curses.

“Spence—“ with that, he thinks this really might be his chance of getting you to do it the first try, so his lips wrap around your clit one last time, only letting go when he hears a hushed cry of his name escape your lips— “Spencer!” A stream of fluid expels from you, and he watches in awe, slightly tilting his head as your body shivers and writhes right before him.

His hands gently caress your thighs, fingers letting go of your folds, his eyes finally meeting yours when you take a breath and before you can speak, he notes;

“Let’s do it again, maybe you’ll do it quicker if I actually use my fingers…”

[lovelycandie]

Forgotten Items

Leona Kingscholar is a lot of things, but forgetful isn’t one of them. So why does he keep leaving behind his wallet at your dorm?

Leona Kingscholar x gn!reader. Unestablished relationship. Leona cares about you more than he wants to admit.

A significant amount of time had passed since you and Grim first started fixing up the guest room in Ramshackle Dorm. The two of you had worked tirelessly (or rather, you had done most of the work while that lazy furball lounged around devouring endless cans of tuna leaving the empty ones scattered everywhere, creating even more work for you…) But, despite the setbacks, you managed to gather the right materials and use your newly acquired magitool to craft intricate pieces of furniture. Eventually, you furnished the guest room exactly as you envisioned, feeling satisfied with how everything had come together.

But what was a guest room without guests? Naturally, you began inviting your friends over to hang out. The Heartslabyul duo, Ace and Deuce, were among the first, followed by plenty of others. Soon enough, you had a steady stream of visitors from all seven dorms

With guests came feedback, and you gladly considered their suggestions to improve the space. This was especially important to you because there was one particular guest you hadn’t invited just yet — this was none other than Leona Kingscholar, the notoriously picky Savanaclaw dorm leader.

You knew Leona had high standards when it came to his lounging spots, so you wanted to create a space even the particular lion prince would find comfortable. Once you were satisfied with the room’s cozy atmosphere, you extended more invitations — including one to Leona himself.

What was his reaction to the guest room you ask? Well in his exact words:

“Hm. It's less dusty than the lounge. Guess you're serious about hostin' people here.”

He said with a sly, teasing smile, his gaze sweeping over the room with apparent indifference. Sure, it wasn’t exactly glowing praise — but coming from Leona, you’d take it.

However, despite his seeming indifference to the room, after the first few invitations, Leona started showing up frequently — and unannounced. Not that you minded. In fact, you found it pretty amusing (and oddly endearing) to see the lion prince sprawled out on your couch, napping away as if the room were his own. Chances were, he was dodging his dorm leader responsibilities. Or maybe Ruggie’s nagging — but either way, you didn’t complain.

As more of your friends would visit you and use the space as either a hangout spot, a place to relax, or as a study room it wasn’t uncommon for them to leave things behind. Some of the things you would find ranged from Ace’s playing cards (that boy never tired of showing off his card tricks), Vil’s mauve nail polish, Ortho’s power cable, Jade’s tea guide and…Trey’s portable dental hygiene kit? (Okay…well someone certainly cares about their teeth it seems! That’s not weird at all…Good for him!)

Like the good host and friend you were, you always made sure to return everyone’s belongings as soon as you saw them again. And after misplacing their things a couple of times, most of your friends got the message and stopped forgetting their stuff so frequently.

Except for him…

Leona, for some reason, no matter how many times you returned his designer wallet, would always, always, always forget it somewhere in your guest room. It was strange, really. There was no way he was that careless. Aloof as he may be, he wasn’t the type to be so absentminded, especially with something as important as his wallet.

But, little did you know that the lion prince was doing it on purpose. Obviously, someone as observant as Leona wouldn’t constantly leave his belongings behind unless… it was intentional. And in this case, it definitely was. Just like how he’d “accidentally” overpay Ruggie or “carelessly” leave his wallet out in his room for his sticky fingers to find, he was doing the same thing with you. He wanted you to take the hint and use it to fix up this dingy dorm of yours. But you just weren’t getting it.

The first time you returned his wallet, he was a little confused but didn’t outright show it.

“My wallet? Oh, I left it in your dorm?… thanks I guess…”

Alright. Maybe it just didn’t click for you yet. He’d try again.

“Ah, again…thanks…”

The second time, he expected you to understand. But no. You just handed it back to him like before.

Fine. Maybe he had to be more obvious. This time, he’d leave it right in plain sight—on the coffee table that Grim had proudly dedicated to displaying his empty tuna cans (his contribution to the décor, if that wasn’t obvious enough).

But there you were, cleaning the guest room again only to find that once again, Leona had forgotten his wallet. You have to return it to him of course!

And so the cycle continued. Over and over again. Each time, he made it more obvious, certain that this time, you’d finally take the hint. But no. You just kept giving it back.

At this point, Leona was exasperated.

Alright, herbivore, just how dense are you?! Do you seriously need me to spell it out for you?! He thought internally.

He felt like his intentions were so obvious. But was he going to outright tell you? No, of course not. He’d rather keep up this nonsense than admit—out loud, that… he cared about you enough to want to subtly provide for you. He wanted you to have enough to buy yourself something nice, to make this dorm a little nicer, or even buy Grim that fancy tuna if it makes you happy. But since you were clearly too dense to understand, he’d just keep “forgetting” his wallet until you finally got the message.

Or were you really that dense?…

Little did the poor, frustrated lion prince know—you were well aware of what he was doing. You had figured it out long ago. But, well… watching the gradual frustration build on his face every time you handed his wallet back was just a little too entertaining for you to end the game so soon!

So, you decided to keep it going.

Whether you’d take pity on his frustration or wait until he finally snapped and admitted he cared about you—that remained to be seen. But for now, you were more than happy to let him suffer just a little bit longer.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ .

Author’s Note: So I was struck with inspiration to write! My school work lessened up a bit too! I wrote this based off a post I saw that said that Leona leaving his wallet behind in the guest room in the game was really on brand for him. So, I came up with this! I hope you enjoy! - 🍬 (also posted to ao3 :)

[sukiyurii]

arcane milf sfw/nsfw headcanons! (f!reader)

ft: ambessa, sevika, cassandra, grayson.

SEVIKA | SFW

sevika, who definitely has a hard time learning how to be vulnerable with you. once you eventually peel away the thick layers of her gruff and cold exterior, you'll find a woman who only wants what's best for her girl.

who comes home bruised, battered, and on her last thread as she confides in the comforting and soft skin of the lovely lady waiting for her at home. she'll sigh deeply into the crook of your neck and wrap her flesh arm around you as you help pry off the now broken robotic arm.

who keeps you sat prettily on her lap as she plays against the crass and nasty men of the undercity. she'll keep her flesh hand on your waist as she claws at the cards with the other. the men watch warily as you pull the cigarillo from her lips and pull your own drag off of it, giving them a mocking smirk after.

she would move heaven and hell for you. who would do everything in her power to provide you with the life that you deserve. while she may be cold and hard on the outside, her devotion and loyalty to you and everything you are is unwavering.

NSFW

she can be nasty when she wants to be, she'll lick and suck at all of the sensitive and weak points on your neck. she'll pin your wrists above your head with her mechanical arm as she trails her cold fingers down your chest, leaving faint red marks in their wake.

much more of a giver than a taker. she likes to watch you writhe, squirm, and plead as she stares down at you. she loves the ego boost she gets as you grovel at her, begging for her to touch you.

but other times, if she notices that you're a little more down and out of it– she'll go slower. she'll undress you gently and press chaste kisses into your skin, gently running her hands up and down your back and waist. she'll lay you out on the bed and devour you until you forget the prior worries.

catch an attitude with her? she'll make sure you remember her handprints on your ass for days to come. she'll press your chest into the bed as she pounds into you, wrapping her fist into your hair as she cranes your head back.

she's not crazy on sappy aftercare, but she'll hold you to her chest as she lights another cigarette, scratching at your scalp softly with her metal claws. if you really need it, she'll murmur additional praises and a few "i love you's" until you feel better.

GRAYSON | SFW

(i miss my girl)

grayson, who is often absorbed and swallowed in her work– still manages to make as much time as she can for her sweet girl. whether it's stopping by your apartment on her lunch break, or letting you curl up on the couch in her office, she'll take care of you.

she'll take you on romantic dates on her time off. she'll buy you a new dress for nearly each one and help you dress, pressing kisses to your skin as she slides the straps onto your shoulders. wherever you wanna go, she'll take you.

once she comes home from a too stressful day at work, she'll lay her head in your lap as water boils in a tea kettle. she dozes off as you stroke your hands through her hair, keeping your focus on the book in front of you.

she'll keep a nice fire going on the colder nights, holding you against her as you ramble about your job or studies, both of you sipping on a hot mug of tea.

she's protective and stern when she needs to be, but she also trusts you to be your own person. she doesn't let you go too far without her and prefers when you keep your arms linked, or your hand on her bicep.

NSFW

she's definitely on the softer side of being dominant. she loves watching you writhe in the same way that sevika does, but she'll be much more gentle about it. rather than pinning you to the bed, she'll wrap a strong arm around you as she holds your back against her chest, teasing her hands up and down your thighs.

she'll coo sweet praises into your ear, telling you how pretty and sweet you are.

however, don't take her kindness for granted in any way– she'll pry your legs open and hold them with her own. once she's finished with forcing you over the edge again, and again, she'll wipe the tears off your face and pout at you.

she prefers giving as well, she likes making you feel good, seeing you moan and gasp because of what she's doing sets something off inside of her.

as soft as she may be, she will fuck you within an inch of your life when presented the chance. she had a rough day at work? you better prepare yourself for what's to come.

she takes aftercare very seriously, as well. she'll wipe you down with a warm, wet towel and kiss all of the marks and bruises she left. there is no exception to this treatment, either. she'll lower you into a warm bath and wash you thoroughly.

CASSANDRA | SFW

cassandra, who struggles with balancing her job as a councilwoman and it often sends her home frustrated. but, she does her absolute best to never let you see that side of her. she's doting and attentive, making sure all of your needs are met.

she's stricter than the others, understanding that her position also puts you at more risk. she rarely let's you go out on your own, ensuring you always have a guard of some kind with you.

she loves when you write her letters or notes, whether you send them to work with her, or simply hand them to her.

she's sweet and caring, but she's the last person you would want to cross, especially when it comes to you. we saw how she pulled that gun on cait and vi, and she wouldn't hesitate to do it again.

on the rare occasion her frustration is projected onto you, she takes the space to collect her emotions before returning. she'll pull you into her lap and stroke your hair as your cheek rests on her shoulder. she'll apologize sincerely, correcting herself and immediately addressing her behavior.

she'll often send a maid to your quarters after she had already gotten up for the day, making sure you receive a nice breakfast in bed, filled with all of your favorite foods.

NSFW

some would say she's the strictest out of all of them. she doesn't tolerate brattiness or disobedience in any capacity. she expects proper behavior and obedience from you.

on the rare occasion you do choose to disobey her, it's normally due to lack of attention. she'll strap a vibrator against you and turn her attention to the work on her desk. listening to your whimpers and cries is a melody to her, satisfied as she finally breaks your bratty attitude.

she'll eventually untie you and ask if you're going to choose to behave. once you agree, she'll return to her usual self, dropping the once cruel façade.

similar to grayson, she'll wipe the tears from your face and press a gentle kiss to your head. she'll slowly work through your orgasm, singing gentle praises as she holds your trembling form.

she lovesss sticking her fingers into your mouth, watching you grovel at her feet as you sit on your knees and stare up at her.

she's also really great with aftercare. she's naturally nurturing, she'll coax you out of the submissive headspace slowly and help you sit up. once you have food and water in your system, she'll take you to the shower and clean you off.

AMBESSA | SFW

ambessa, who is difficult to work with sometimes. her stubbornness and callousness make it hard for her to properly express her love and appreciation for you.

she often does it through sending gifts or bringing back treasures and jewelry during her escapades. don't get me wrong, she adores you. but, growing up in such a rough environment has made it hard for her to understand how to treat you.

on the extremely rare occasion she's vulnerable with you, she shows it by slowly shedding her armor and sitting on your shared bed, head in her hands. she lets you rub your hands over her shoulders as you remain quiet, letting her open up when she's ready.

she loves when you sit on her lap during meetings, keeping her hand tight on your thigh or hips– smirking as the men before you two gawk at your pretty figure.

she likes watching you prance around the gala's she attends, admiring your pretty body through the dress she had chosen for you earlier that evening.

NSFW

you think sevika is rough? you're definitely in for it with her.

she likes it when you choose to be a little bratty and disobedient, she gets off on putting you right back into your place.

she'll grab you by your jaw a little too tightly and stare down at you hungrily, tilting your head back painfully. she likes wrapping her hand around your throat and listening to your whimpers, watching as you take in little gasps.

she's definitely the type to strap you so hard you walk with a limp the next day. she'll watch you smugly and tease you about it, askin' what happened to you in front of your peers.

she's more likely to degrade you than the others, calling you her pretty slut as she chokes you on her fingers.

she would DEFINITELY like watching grind against her thigh or leg, gripping your hips tightly as she controls your pace.

she likes when you're on top, forcing you to work for your orgasm if she's feeling a little extra mean. she knows you can't get off without her help, so she'll laugh as she watches you struggle.

she might not seem like it, but she is very good with aftercare. she makes up for her cruelness with a massage to the bruises on your skin. she'll wipe you off and help you drink your water, guiding your hands gently. she reminds you of how much she loves you, and means nothing of the mean words she says.

[p1astr81]

very random but could you do one where reader is a ferrari heiress and her and oscar have a secret thing going on and they try to see each other during race weekends (with some fluff please)

This was a bit angstier than I anticipated 🙈

Y/n Ferrari. A name that carried status wherever she went. A name that came with expectations.

One of those expectations being to not fraternize with the enemy. Which was easy.

Until he came along.

Sauntering into the paddock with his stupid floppy hair looking like a prince that just walked out of a Disney movie. And his ridiculous laugh that sparked humor in other people even when nothing was funny. And his chiseled face like it was crafted by michaelangelo himself.

It all started as genuine hatred between you two, kicking off after he nearly crashed Charles out.

“Touch one of my drivers again and I swear to you Piastri-“

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know the trust fund princess ran the team.”

You scoffed. “Are you the pot or the kettle?”

“What?”

“I’m calling you a hypocrite.”

But it slowly turned into a playful banter.

“Where’s the princess off to this time?” He called out to you as you passed him as he was exiting his hospitality.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Prince Charming?”

His brows raised at the new nickname. “Calling me handsome now?”

“No you idiot. I’m making fun of your ridiculous hair.”

“What? Should I cut it then?”

“Absolutely not.” You looked horrified at the idea.

A smirk curled his lips. “Ah, so you like it then?”

“Ha! Only in your dreams would I ever like anything about you.” You didn’t let him get another word in, walking off too quickly.

And then the banter slowly turned into tension.

“That dress is going to have a lot of eyes on you.” Oscar commented, taking note of your bright red sun dress with a low v-neck.

You hummed. “Eyes like yours?”

He shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

“Saying I look good?”

Oscar shook his head. “Whatever the Ferrari princess wants.”

And the tension soon transitioned into a restrained pining.

Your paths crossed after taking the grid photos for the 2025 season. “Your hair looks… slightly more put together today than it usually does.”

He felt like an object of study under your gaze. “Careful, that almost sounded like a compliment.” He chuckled.

“I think it was.” A pause, then, “It looks good.”

Oscar froze. Then swallowed, and found his words again. “Did someone put you up to this? Charles? Lewis? Was it Ollie? Are you feeling okay?”

You laughed. A genuine laugh. “No, no one put me up to this, and yes I’m feeling okay.” You laughed again.

Fucking hell, Oscar enjoyed that sound. It made him feel like he was walking on clouds. This was dangerous. “Okay,” he started and wavered. “Thanks.” He muttered.

You took note of the blush on his cheeks, but you didn’t mention it. You sure as hell made sure to get him flustered every time you saw him, though.

And then the pining turned into… something. A situation of sorts.

You rushed into his room in the hospitality, tearing the hood off your head.

He was on you in seconds. Hands wrapped around your waist and his lips devoured yours. “Did anyone see you?” He rasped into your mouth.

“No, I don’t think so.” You confirmed in a whisper.

His hands slipped under your hoodie and he tore it over your head. He paused, caught off guard by the low-cut shirt. “God, you’re unbelievable.”

You grinned, shoving his shoulder. “Ah, c’mon charming it’s just a bit of cleavage don’t lose your head.”

He ignored your teasing, picking you up by the waist and carrying you over to the small sofa. He let you fly from his arms and you hit the cushions with a dull plop. He kissed the exposed swell of your breasts, sucking on the skin.

“Quit! Someone will see there!” You yelled in hurried whispers, and gave his head a small push.

He pulled back, gazing up at you with a dazed look in his eyes. “Good. Maybe then everyone else will stop trying to make moves on you.”

He dipped his head again, but before his lips could attack your chest-

knock, knock, knock. “Osc! Do you still have my charger?!” Lando shouted from the other side of the door.

Oscar’s eyes went wide, as did yours. You both swapped glances between each other and the door.

Say something, you mouthed.

“Uh, yeah.” He hesitated. You wanted to face palm yourself.

“Great! can I have it back?”

He looked to you in panic. You gave him a look that basically said, ‘this is your problem now’.

“Uh, yeah.” He grabbed the white cord while you did your best to hide.

He opened the door just enough to poke an arm out.

“What’s that about?” Lando asked in reference to the cracked door. “You got a girl in there or something?”

“No!” He answered far too quickly. “I’m, uh, I’m naked.” He covered.

You heard lando laugh. “Alright, mate.”

You both let out sighs of relief when the door clicked closed.

“You’re helpless under pressure if it’s not out on the track.” You shook your head.

And when he asked you out, options for a date location were very limited.

“I didn’t know where to go that we wouldn’t be seen so…” he gestured to the homemade full-course meal laid out on his dining room table.

You smiled. “I didn’t know you could cook, charming.” You took the chair he pulled out for you.

He shook his head. “That damn nickname.” He muttered, sitting across from you.

“You don’t like it? I think it suits you.”

“I know, because of my hair.”

You tilted your head at him. “Well, that is a factor.” You conceded. “But I think your pretty face lives up to the name too.”

His face flushed immediately, and he let out a nervous laugh. “Didn’t you say you’d only call me handsome in my dreams? Am I dreaming now?”

You shook your head. “Maybe you’ve hexed me.”

After that, it became official. Now both of you were concerned with not getting caught.

Singapore was scorching hot. Even inside the lobby of the Hilton as you tried to collect more towels for your room.

As you waited at the front desk, you felt a hand slide across your back. Not a lot of pressure to the touch, just… there. You jumped, ready to fight, but you gasped when you caught the eyes of the perpetrator. “Oscar! I didn’t know you were staying here!” You cheered in hushed tones, glancing around for prying eyes.

He looked just as happy to see you. “I could say the same.” He laughed. “What floor?”

“Five.” You answered.

“Two.”

You let the silence float between you. “I could-”

“Yes.” He anticipated your proposal. He had since the moment he caught you. He was just waiting for you to say it.

You smirked at his eager reply. “I’ll take my towels back to my room and I’ll see you then? Just text me your room number.”

Oscar nodded as the lady came back with three towels in her hands. You gave Oscar a small smile as you parted.

Too focused on you, he’d forgotten the reason he came down to the lobby in the first place. Awkwardly, he shuffled from the front desk and to the elevators.

Shit. His room was a mess.

He frantically threw things in his suit case and shoved stuff in the closet. Three hurried knocks landed on the door just as he zipped the suitcase closed.

“Hey,” he greeted, red in the face and slightly panting from all the running around. He waved you into the room.

Finally alone, you stand to your tip toes and place a sweet kiss on his cheek.

It wasn’t enough for him. He held your face in his hands, capturing your lips in his. It wasn’t hungry nor hurried, but a tender reminder that you belonged to each other.

“I’ve missed you so much.” You confessed with a soft exhale.

“You just saw me earlier?” He wasn’t stupid. He knows what you meant by that.

You shook your head, taking his hand and leading him to the bed. You kicked off your shoes and stepped from your leggings. You went for his suitcase and unzipped it, ignoring his protests. “I know you, Os. I know you’re not this clean.” You chuckled, gesturing to the spotless floors.

Plucking one of his shirts from his suitcase, you took off your own shirt and replaced it with his. The covers of the bed welcomed you, as did the embrace of his arms. You snuggled your head into his chest. “This. This is how I’ve missed you.”

The next weekend you attended was Abu Dhabi. Safe to say, you were both having intense withdrawals.

Oscar more than you.

You stared at the messages, guilt pricking your skin. Your sweet Oscar. Cast to the side because of your own fears.

After qualifying had long passed, you sought him out. The paddock was relatively empty by then, only the few stragglers of team personnel. Your hospitalities being right next to each other’s was certainly an advantage, one you used to its full extent. You sat outside, scouting for Oscar. You jumped up when you spotted him, quick feet making your way over before he could spot you.

When you reached him, your fingers closed around his wrist and dragged him between the buildings and around the back. There were no cameras. No people. Just solitude.

He looked drained from the day. “I’m sorry.” You blurted. “I love you. You know that, don’t you?” You took hold of his hands. “I’m just so afraid of him breaking us up.” You shook your head.

Oscar pulled you to him, wrapping his arms around you. He held your head against his chest. “Of course I know that.” He stroked your hair. Dull nails scratched your head. “Like you said, there’ll be a time.”

You pulled back enough to see his face. “I want it to be soon. Like maybe during break?” You suggested. “You’re right. I don’t want to keep living in secret.”

“What?” He panicked. “I don’t want to force you to do this if you don’t want to.”

You shook your head repeatedly. “No I want to do this.” Your eyes darted around, and then, “actually I want to do this now.”

“Wait what?”

Oscar didn’t get a response, you were already dragging him.

“No, wait. Like right now?” He panicked.

“Yes.”

Jesus, he was about to die and he only gets thirty seconds to prepare.

Hand in hand, he trailed behind you as the cool air from the Ferrari hospitality welcomed you. Your father was there, talking with Charles. He had yet to see you.

“Papa?” You called, standing in front of him.

He turned, brows furrowing when he saw Oscar. And then his eyes went wide when he saw your interlocked hands.

“I’m dating Oscar. And I’m happy. He makes me happy. And I know he’s not Italian or a Ferrari driver, but I think being with someone who makes me happy is better than both of those.” You rambled in English, ensuring Oscar would understand.

Your father looked between the two of you. The silence stretched, making Oscar more nervous by the second.

And then Charles started laughing.

“I know. Everyone has known for months. You guys aren’t as sneaky as you think you are.” Your dad spoke, clapping Oscar on the shoulder and squeezing him. “I’m just happy it was him and none of the others.” He smiled.

Oscar let out a heavy sigh of relief, earning a laugh from your dad.

[lovermake]

sitting in their lap ! ( ft jjk men + women )

synopsis : short cute headcannons that involve sitting in your partner’s lap and how they react to it. some are suggestive / nsfw, others are pure fluff !

content warnings : NSFW 18+ ( viewer discretion advised ), fingering, sitting in lap, grinding, dry humping + dry sex, wlw content ( men dni ), praise, slight degradation, possessive & soft sex <3

choso

it’s unexpected when you plop straight into his lap, when you ask if you could “sit here.” He did not realize he was an option, as you your back rested against him. But nonetheless he is happy with the choice you made and lets you make yourself at home. ( though if you spend too long sitting on his crotch, don’t be shocked when you start to feel something rubbing against your ass ! )

“mind if I join?” you greet entering the living room to choso scrolling on his phone as some news channel plays. he raises a brow confused as to why you asked because you would usually just plop besides him and gossip about your job. before he could even say or react to your question, you plop right onto his lap with your back to his chest, sighing loudly as you are finally comfortable.

you don’t have to turn your head to know that his face was turning to a soft pink, and he was fighting the urge to not gently place his hands on your waist. Choso is left defeated not knowing exactly what to say to your random gesture, so all he does is truly lay back and let you find comfort in his lap and chest.

it’s adorable when you fall asleep after a little while of chatting, for he gently rubs your back and plays with the strands of your hair as you sleep softly against him. he mumbles how cute you are, before eventually drifting off into a sleep of his own.

nanami

it’s grown a regular routine for you to sit in your husband’s lap usually when he is eating the food you have made for him after a long day of work. he never makes any advances, or at the very least tries not to, for he doesn’t want to ruin the intimate moment with devious urges. despite how much he wants to take you over the kitchen counter. but it seems tonight you seem to want him to.

you’re wearing a short apron with not much underneath other than a cute pink pair of panties with a bow, and of course Nanami notices your advances, given that you aren’t much of a chatterbox as always and rather tend to rub yourself against him on his crotch. and while the steak you have cooked and seared for the night was delicious, he was much more interested in devouring something else.

but what was dessert without finishing dinner ?

he does his best to not react to your advances as an attempt to at least finish the meal you have prepared, but you’re really dedicated to get what you want, straddling him and gently pressing your hands against his chest. and with a simple gesture of loosening his tie, he is quick to have you laid upon the dining table, apron pushed up, panties pulled down.

you tried to play it off by reminding Kento of his food, but that could always wait for later. “I’m sorry my love, I don’t have much patience and it seems neither do you.” he presses a kiss to your temple before his lips drag themselves from your cheek, to your neck, to your waist, and to your clit.

though nanami promises to finish his food later, he never does, for you became his priority for the rest of the night.

maki

your favorite thing to do with your girlfriend was surprise her out of the blue, especially by randomly scaring her with a hug, gently biting her cheek, sometimes smacking her ass and playing a game of tag, or plopping yourself in her lap. which is what you decided to do today. she had just finished washing her hair and was taking a moment to relax on the bed when you decide to plop onto her lap. her initial reaction was to scold you and tell you, you should be studying, but she decides to take advantage of your impulsive gesture.

“oh MY god, stop !!” you scream, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, laughter falling from your lips as she tickled your waist and stomach. your kicking your feet, but it doesn’t keep her from tickling you, as your throwing your head back and attempt to push away her hands.

she can only giggle along, satisfied with how ticklish you were. “this is why you should be studying,” she playfully scolds and you can’t help but laugh even harder. at this point she would be knocking the breath out of you. “this is what you get!”

after so long she finally frees you of her mercy and you hop of the bed to go study as she mentioned. she smacks your ass as you leave the room, “and make sure to practice your domain.”

you only stick your tongue out as you leave, earning another chuckle from your sweet girl.

geto

he had asked you to help him dry his hair, given its length. and usually you’d stand behind him as he sat down and rambled about his villainous activities, but today you decided to try a new angle and decide to sit in his lap and dry his hair. the gesture surprises him, but he adores it, keeping a hand on your waist as you dried his hair.

“oh!” he mumbles softly, as he watches you straddle his lap. you’re body is facing his and it’s very close eye contact as you begin to dry his hair with a towel. at first he is looking you up and down as you begin to dry the damp strands. “you’ll be able to get the lower ends of my hair?”

you giggle. “I’ll be able to, don’t worry! continue you on about your day.”

he’s a bit reluctant, for he hated having his hair wet, but he loved having you on his lap like this so he continued on with his rambling, thought he could barely focus again. you were wearing a black tank top and fuzzy shorts, so the sight did his lead his mind to wander. but nonetheless he needed his hair dry so he kept his urges to himself.

nobara

you both take turns sitting in each others lap but you tend to do it the most. and every time you do, it’s always a soft intimate moment you share with your fiancé for she adores combing through your curls. her favorite thing to do as you sit in her lap is either braid or try new styles with your hair since it’s much longer and more different than hers.

“ow!” you whine, squinting your eyes as your girlfriend brushes through your hair. “be careful!”

she whispers a sorry and kisses your cheek. you grow more relaxed in her lap and she continues brushing your hair to a perfect slicked back bun, keeping a couple of curls to bounce out in the front.

“how do you like it, [ your name ] ?” nobara asks, holding a mirror up for you. she has given you a side part, slicked back with two curls on each side of your ears and a beautiful curly bun in the back. you’re so quick to turn back and give him a big kiss and thank her for her work, which she softly blushes for in her ears.

toji

He’s initially pissed when you sit on his lap, rather than taking a seat on his couch (a couch he thrifted for $3 and a wing) but when your rub his ass on his crotch, all that anger immediately rushes to pleasure, hands strapping to your waist. Suddenly his pants have been pushed down, your panties ripped (per usual).

“fuck,” you whimpered, your hands on his thighs, as you bounced on his cock. his eyes constantly going up, and down, up and down. it was a shame you weren’t facing him because he would have adored, seeing your titties bounce in his face to. but the two of you had time after this, so he wasn’t all that concerned. “making me do all the work?”

toji leans back and laughs at your question. “making you work too hard princess?” you aren’t given much time to answer because he wraps his hands around your waist and by keeping you still he begins to thrust deep inside of you, watching you hiccup and whimper in pleasure. his name leaving your mouth all too many times.

at some point you couldn’t even moan words, everything falling from your lips was incoherent and before you knew it you were screaming in pleasure as his seed pumped deep inside of you. your legs shaking and your chest going up and down.

“fucking shit, toji.” you whimpered and he only chuckles, signaling to you that this would only be the beginning.

gojo

in all honesty he’s been waiting patiently until you would hop onto his lap. because it gives him the advantage to tease you and crawl his hands under your shirt with his cold hands. but of course his teasing is never just an innocent tease.

“gojo!” you squeak. you had decided to plop into your boyfriend’s lap unexpectedly, and he then decided to unexpectedly slip his hands under your shirt with his icy cold hands. he can only throw his head back and laugh. “your hands are cold!”

“I heard being cold makes sex all the more exciting” he lies through his teeth, and you can only turn your head with a glare. he lies but somewhere in his heart he does believe that’s true. the type of boyfriend you have is the type to click on exaggerated ads and then wonder why his computer been hacked again.

his thumbs gently flick over your nipples in surprise and you can’t help but moan this time at the feeling. there’s a devious snicker that escapes his throat and you glare again. “see I told you that was true!”

© lovermake’s works 2024. Do not use my writing for language translation, re-editing, plagiarism, heavy inspiration, posting through other social media apps, or stealing.

[xooonism]

Vi wearing only boxers while she sleeps + sensitive nipples

MDNI

Vi comes home after a workout at the gym. Her body wet by the sweat that soaked into her shirt, which is now glued to her skin. She feels uncomfortable and stinky, wanting to hop into the shower so badly.

She sets down her gym bag by the coat rack, striping as she walks to the bathroom, her clothes now leaving a trail behind her. Now naked, she reaches the shower, stepping into it. The water turns on and she feels relief as the sticky fluid washes off of her skin.

She leaves the shower once she’s washed up, leaving the bathroom to step into your shared bedroom, only wrapped in a towel. She sees you, reading a book while you lay on your stomach. She steps toward her drawer and opens it to search for her boxers, deciding that she’s feeling too hot for a shirt.

The noise caught your attention, which made you turn your head, leaving you surprised to see Vi naked. “Vi, why didn’t you tell me you’re home?”, you said studying her naked back, her ass looking amazing.

“I felt disgusting after my workout. I wanted to shower first.”, she replied, pulling her boxers up her legs. She turned to you, immediately grinning after she caught you spying on her naked form. “You like what you see?”

You propped your face on your hand, eyes staring at her boobs shamelessly, humming in response. Vi chuckled, stepping towards the bed, plopping down next to you. She layed down, one arm on her stomach the other layed under her head. The position gave you a perfect view of her boobs, her nipple piercing sparkling due to the light.

Your mouth watered. Vi always sleeps without a shirt after she went to the gym that day, but every time her boobs are freed from the burden of a shirt, you can’t help but feel a burn between you legs. Your hand travelled to her chest, squeezing once it reached its target.

Vi chuckled. She knows how worked up you get when she’s topless. She honestly does it on purpose sometimes, your expression satisfying her. Vi turns her head to see you eye her boobs. Like you want to devour them. She feels like a prey that’s chased by a predator. That’s what she wants.

Your eyes never left her breasts, even after Vi caught you. You want-, no you need them in your mouth. Vi loved how much you’re obsessed with her boobs. She loved how much you’re obsessed with her.

“You wanna suck on them?”, she asked. Your eyes flickered at the suggestion, head shooting towards her chest without a second thought. Vi moaned once she felt your tongue lapping on her nipple, you other hand pinching the other.

After Vi got her nipples pierced, her nipples turned out to be very sensitive. Every touch left her whining, slick pooling between her legs. Once you discovered this, you became obsessed with them, taking every chance to touch, lick or bite them. Hearing her whine and moan at every little touch left you satisfied, a smile tugging at your lips.

Your hand traveled down her abs, your fingers lifting the waistband of her boxers, dipping into her pussy. She gasped, her hips buckling onto your hand….

[wint3rbarnes]

‘the other woman.’

summary ۶ৎ in which, bucky’s sneaks out at night to visit his neighbour.

warnings ۶ৎ 18+ content/minors dni, mentions of cheating ( loveless marriage ), age gap ( legal ), daddy kink, oral ( female receiving ), pet names ( doll, angel, baby, sweet girl ), praise kink, p in v ( protected ), bulge kink, aftercare, no use of y/n.

married, congressman!bucky x neighbour!reader

𝓐/n ۶ৎ first time writing smut in ages so hopefully it’s okay. please don’t copy, translate or repost my work to any other platforms. and please be kind; if you don't like it, simply move on. thank you for taking the time to read this ♡

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

‘and when her old man comes to call,

he finds her waiting like a lonesome queen.’

when bucky finally began to make peace with his demons, he knew he had to do something good that would overpower the terrible things he'd been forced to do. so, he set his sights on congress. and it was a difficult task. no one wanted the man rumoured to have assassinated a president anywhere near the halls of power. but bucky was determined. he threw himself into campaigning, endless events, and alliances. and then, of course, there was the strategic marriage, wedding the woman who was already a powerhouse in congress and state business. it was a gamble, but it paid off, securing him the seat as brooklyn's congressman.

he knew it was wrong, marrying for anything other than love ( power and position in his case ), but he buried it with the rest of his darkest deeds box that’s stored in his mind, convincing himself that the good he was doing in congress, the real change he was fighting for, justified the means.

moving into her modernised apartment, he hadn't anticipated you, his beautiful neighbour. his first day home alone, you brought over welcoming treats, and he'd been helpless as his eyes devoured every detail about you. the way you dressed, that skirt teasing him. the way you smiled, those pouty lips a silent dare to be kissed. the way you spoke, your voice a dulcet sound laced with playful undertones. your kind gesture revealed your gold heart that he found intoxicating. something about you pulled him in, ignited a desire unlike anything he'd ever known. he had to have more. he had to consume you, keep you safely tucked away, a treasure hidden behind a vault in his heart.

that was three months ago. and things have definitely changed since then.

most nights, when bucky knows his wife is fast asleep, he’ll use his stealth skills from being the winter soldier to quietly slip out of the apartment and into yours. that’s when he sees a whole new side of you. the lacy and mouthwatering fabric under your skirt, your lips swollen and puffy from his own, your voice breathless and erotic. angel by day, devil by night. he brings out a side of you no one else has seen, and he loves it.

and as much as you love it too, a pang of guilt tends to twist in your gut. he’s married, vowed to another woman. that same feeling begins to appear now, laying on the edge of your bed as bucky presses kisses down your legs while he slips off your sleep shorts.

he feels the subtle shift in you, a tension in the air only he can detect. he knows you better than you know yourself. knelt on the floor, he smoothes his hands over your creamy thighs, his gaze intent as he studies your face. your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, lost in thought, your eyes distant and unfocused ( and not in the way when he overstimulates you ).

"you're doing it again.” bucky murmurs patiently, his voice a low rumble. with a calloused thumb, he gently coaxes your lip away from your teeth, breaking the spell of your thoughts and drawing your attention back to him.

“hm? oh- sorry,” you sheepishly say, cheeks flushing. “i was just thinking about…her.”

his oceanic eyes soften, a sigh escaping him as he instantly knows what’s going on inside your beautiful brain. “doll, we’ve gone over this before. i don’t love her and she doesn’t love me. i’m a hundred percent sure she’s only with me to gain more popularity.”

it’s so easy for his words to soothe you. he’s so much wiser and has much more experience than you. he knows best, and you trust him wholeheartedly. you relax, but need one more reassurance. you hold out your pinky to which he chuckles and loops his own around. you know it’s childish, but pinky promises have always made you more at ease.

“c’mon, let your daddy take care of you, angel.”

and that’s all it takes for the atmosphere to change, becoming more charged. the wetness that was originally pooling between your thighs returns just by his lust-filled voice and him calling himself that.

you nod desperately, making him smirk. “good girl.” he praises, leaning down to press a kiss to your bare stomach and down to your waistband of your white, lacy panties. “so pretty. you always dress this way for me, don’t you, baby? only me.”

he takes the fabric between his teeth and he glides it down to your knees and you kick out of them. his breath hitches at your glistening, pink pussy. his blue eyes intensify like a storm brewing. he kisses up your thighs, coaxing them open with his hands and rests them over his shoulders, giving him better access to bury his face into heaven. when he reaches your pussy, he inhales sharply. “so sweet.” he groans, licking a slow yet long stripe up your folds, waves of heat washing over you.

his mouth latches around your clit, the sensitivity making your back arch like a delicate ballerina. he places a hand on your stomach, pressing you down into the silk sheets. his cold, wedding band is a relief against your tepid skin. you can’t bring yourself to think about what the ring symbolises as you’re so lost in him and his touches.

he pulls back from your clit after hearing your needy whine, admiring how swollen and twitchy it’s become, practically begging for more. he presses a soft kiss there before bringing his vibranium hand down. he drags your arousal to your clit, and you gasp as the coil in your stomach appears while he draws figure eights on your clit. the sounds of your wetness against his movements are bordering on lewd, turning you on either more. it seems to do the same for him as he grinds against the edge of the bed.

“fuck, you hear that? that’s how desperate you are for me. don’t worry, angel, daddy’s gonna make you feel so good.”

his words add to the euphoric sensations, a mewl flowing from your lips as his tongue circles around your entrance before delving in. your hazy eyes roll back, the sounds coming out of you making him double his efforts, and it isn’t long before your grinding against his face. he rewards you by groaning into you, the vibrations sending ripples through you and your hand immediately clutches his, needing something to hold onto as the knot in your stomach clenches deliciously.

your head throws back into the mattress as your legs quiver around his shoulders. the knot undoes, your orgasm hitting you like waves crashing into each other. intense yet welcoming.

bucky gives a few more leisurely licks, drawing out our release, before he pulls back, his scruff glistening with your cum and his eyes admiring every aspect about you: your hair cascading against the sheets like a halo that’s been corrupted, your chest rising and falling, making your pebbled breasts push against your bra, your bambi eyes venereal.

“did so good for me, doll. tasted so sweet.” he praises, his swollen lips dotting soft kisses up your stomach as he feels you relax. “you’re so beautiful when you cum.” he expertly undoes the clasp of your bra, gliding the venust fabric off and tossing it aside where the rest of yours and his clothes are.

he’s being gentle as he kisses the perky buds of your breast, suckling softly and tongue flicking out. he copies his actions with your other one, but you require more. you can’t get enough of him. he’s teasing you and you can tell by feeling him smirk against your skin.

“daddy, please..”

“please what, sweet girl? hm? tell me what you want.” he coaxes, pulling away from your chest and rising, the wet patch on his briefs and his impressive bulge causing your head to spiral like a rollercoaster.

“need you inside of me…please.”

he groans, palming himself. “god, you beg so prettily. my polite girl.” he slips his boxers off, and the sight of him never fails to make your mouth water. his thick length has a vein protruding from it, it’s head dripping with precum, red and in desperate need to be buried inside of you.

you’re legs instinctively shut at the size of him, but he soothingly coaxes your legs open, hovering over you. his eyes are full of heat and need, but there’s also a soft glint that reassures you he won’t ever hurt you.

bucky kisses you, sloppy and tongues messily dancing with each other, but brimming with so much passion it makes your heart skip. then, he guides himself into you.

thank goodness you’re on birth control because bucky always loves taking you raw.

your moans intwine together as he stills for a moment, feeling the way you’re walls are welcoming him with a squeezed hug. “missed this. missed being deep inside of you.” he breathes out, letting you adjust. “you okay, doll?”

you feel so full already and you’ve only taken half of him. it always takes a moment to adjust due to how big he is and how tight you are. “yeah…please move.”

he begins rocking his hips, slowly at first, building you up to it, before his pace quickens and your dulcet breaths shift into moans. “you’re so good to me, baby. welcoming a married man into your tight cunt.”

your body tingles with each thrust that’s deeper than the next. he looks and feels like a greek statue as you trail your soft hands down his hard chest and abs, tracing the lines and dips, your movements shaky with the way his body moves against yours.

he grasps your small hands in his vibranium one and keeps them above your head, his free hand propping your leg up, sliding himself in further until he’s nearly bottomed out. the moan you let out is amorous, one that he wishes he could have as it morning alarm. you clench around him as he discovers the spot that makes you see stars.

“right there, angel? yeah?” bucky grunts. “gonna make you forget your own name. all you’re gonna remember is how daddy’s cock feels.”

“‘m g-gonna cum...” you cry out, the fever in your stomach building rapidly, matching your heartbeat and coursing lightning through your veins.

“that’s a good girl.” bucky brings your hand, that was trapped under his, down to your lower abdomen, the gasp escaping you making his release approach as well. “you feel that?” he rubs your hand against the bulge in your stomach. “that’s me about to cum inside of you, doll. and you’ll take me so well, won’t you?”

you don’t have a chance to respond as your second orgasm of the night hits you, this one much more heightened than the first. you buck against him, shaking as not only stars, but galaxies form, sending you into a realm of pleasure you never thought was possible before him.

you milk him and it’s one of the greatest feelings he’s ever experienced, triggering his own release, and he buries himself to the hilt inside of you, letting out a rough groan. he’s been with numerous girls before, but no one’s ever made him cum as long and as intense as you have.

“fuck- there we go, sweet girl. gonna feel me for days.”

your hot breaths entangle with his in the air, the musk of arousal and the diamonds of sweat that are beading your forehead mixing in. as the white hot sensations begin to settle down, bucky leans down to press a kiss to the side of your knee that’s propped up before carefully lowering it and sliding himself out. you whimper softly at the loss of him, feeling empty, but he strokes your sides soothingly and kisses your forehead.

“i’m so proud of you. you did so well. made me feel so good.”

“you m-made me feel good too.”

he smiles softly at your innocent response, as if you weren’t moaning ‘daddy’ moments ago. “i’m glad, doll. all i ever want to do is make you feel good.” he tucks his hands under your thighs, and you instinctively encircle your arms around his neck as he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. “c’mon, let’s get cleaned up.”

and so, he draws you a bath, the water full of bubbles, comforting your aching muscles. his touch is tender as he runs a cloth over your skin and between your legs, erasing any trace of what just happened. but the memory will forever be engraved into his mind, kept in a precious box dedicated solely to you. he washes your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp as he murmurs praises on how well you did and just to relax now.

he had slipped his ring off, the gold band now disregarded on the sink, a life he no longer intends to endure. he won’t keep you locked away in the vault of his heart any longer; you deserve to be front and center, bathed in the light of his love for the world to see. he doesn’t care if his image in congress crumbles, if his wife's scorn follows him to the depths of hell. he’s so close to dismantling valentina's empire, and when that job succeeds, he’ll come home to you and call you his.

after drying you off, your skin radiating the scent of vanilla he adores, he braids your hair as you converse about your day. he listens intently, offering a comment here and there. it’s never been just about physical intimacy with you. he cherishes your heart of gold, your whimsical habits, every facet of your being. you have a beauty that is more than skin-deep. his love for you is all-consuming, and he’s prepared to sacrifice everything for you. you’re his everything, the sun and moon illuminating his sky.

now, bundled in his arms, cocooned in the freshly changed sheets, his bare hand gently strokes the braided pattern of your hair, lulling you into a tranquil state. it feels as though a weight has been lifted, a burden finally released. "i wish you didn't have to leave." you whisper softly, the words heavy with the realisation that sunrise will force him back to his other life. back to his wife.

his lips brush against your forehead, a silent promise.

“i’m not leaving this time, angel. i’m staying right here, with you, where i belong.”