#how to make your room bigger

[r0semultiverse]

It’s wild to me that some of you have entire discourse accounts dedicated to shipping hate & over analyzing shipping between the anime, manga, & light novels to the point of making harassment campaigns against the authors/writers of the side stories. Yet y’all don’t send the same hate towards Ikemoto & his highly suspect ass art style with the way he draws some of these kids.

[whattraintracks]

30. Wrestling - TMNT 1990s

"You are unique among your brothers, for you choose to face this enemy alone. But as you face it, do not forget them, and do not forget me. I am here, my son."

Splinter breathes deeply, allowing the flow of air to guide the outside world to the forefront of his awareness. Stale subterranean scent, cushioned armchair beneath him, dim candlelight, footsteps. Someone has drawn him out of meditation. Perhaps his sons are home earlier than expected.

"You may enter, Raphael," he offers to the hovering shadow. The turtle creeps inside, halting but a moment before bowing deeply.

He smiles warmly, "Have you and your brothers returned?"

"The guys are still out." Raphael's shoulders hunch; from what emotion, he cannot tell. "I, I didn't go with them."

The scattered candles flicker. A great darkness seems to cross Raphael, and he glimpses someone very much unlike his passionate son. Someone exhausted, worn down, nearing the brink of collapse.

Raphael's voice brittles, "Can I stay with you?"

Splinter's not sure what is more alarming, that Raphael has declined an opportunity to go to the surface—with his brothers, no less—or this weariness so evident in him.

"What troubles you?" He implores.

Raphael shakes his head mutely.

He insists, trying to keep his disquiet at bay, "I cannot help you if you do not tell me what is wrong."

A coarse whisper, "It's nothing."

"This is not nothing," he creaks to his feet, "You must—"

"Dad."

The sudden plea stills them both.

"Master Splinter." His heart wrenches at the self-conscious amendment. It is not one he needs to make. Not about this. Not ever.

"Please, can I just," Raphael cuts himself off, breathing shallowly. Another flicker of candlelight and Splinter catches the sheen of tears in his eyes.

"Oh," he breathes. What a fool he is. His son has come seeking comfort and company, not interrogation.

"Yes. Yes, come." He beckons, reseating himself. "Sit with me."

Raphael shuffles deeper into the train car, kneeling stiffly. Splinter clucks softly, reaching for his arm to pull him against the chair. He curls forward without resistance, breath hitching.

"My son," he says, soothing with hands and words. "I am sorry. You may always come to me. You need not tell me what is on your mind to do so."

He is unsurprised but nevertheless heartbroken as Raphael releases a heavy sob, giving in to whatever weight he has been carrying. Tears prick in his own eyes at the openly hurting sound. He internally chides the parts of himself that demand answers over acceptance with open arms. Wrapping them now around as much of Raphael as he can, he mourns with his son so clearly wrestling with a great burden. He sends a prayer of gratitude to his Master Yoshi for guiding Raphael to him when that weight grew too large to bear alone.

Much time passes before the rest of his sons return. Long after Raphael cries himself past exhaustion into sleep. At some point, concerned at the angle of his son's neck, Splinter maneuvers out of his chair to rest them more comfortably on the floor. His ears prick at a whisper of movement. Ah, three movements.

Michelangelo peers into the train car, his brothers close behind. "Oh," he blinks, "he really did stay here."

Protectiveness flares within Splinter. "We should not begrudge Raphael's need for comfort or rest," he reproves.

Michelangelo's eyes widen in dismay, "Of course not!"

Donatello shakes his head, "No, we're not— We don't think Raph—" His eyes dart as they do when he's searching for the most precise explanation. "We're just worried about him."

"He's been having a rough week," Leonardo murmurs.

Oh, his sweet sons. He should not have been so quick to assume they meant anything uncharitable when they are but concerned brothers. As with Raphael, he wishes they had come sooner instead of struggling and worrying alone. He can be grateful they are here now.

"Tell me," he invites, resting a muffling hand on Raphael's tympanum.

They glance between themselves as they kneel, silently urging one another to speak first. He is careful to display only calm patience despite his inner turmoil.

Michelangelo finally bursts, "He's not eating." The other two look at him, befuddled.

"Okay, he's not, not eating," he revises, "but he didn't even finish a whole pizza at April's on Monday!"

Splinter trusts this is a remarkable incident, given their identically serious nods.

"I think he's having nightmares," Donatello contributes. "At the very least, he's not sleeping well. I keep finding him awake at odd hours, and sometimes he's pretty freaked."

Splinter huffs fondly. "Should I ask what you are doing awake at 'odd hours', Donatello?" The turtle shrugs cheekily.

He ponders these insights, soothing Raphael as he twitches. Do dreams haunt him now, even surrounded by loved ones?

"Leonardo?" he prompts, drawing his final son from deep thought.

Leonardo begins slowly as if unsure, "He's been more focused during training." As they all have. With their many hardships, each of his sons has increased their dedication to learning ninja, whether they realise it or not.

He listens keenly as Leonardo continues, "But when we're out, he hesitates. I've never seen so much slip past his defense."

He hums, "You are concerned he is a danger to himself and your brothers?"

"Never," Leonardo swears.

He tilts his head, not unkindly.

"Well, yeah, I guess," Leonardo concedes. "But not like that. Raph usually loves fighting." His eyes resonate with confusion and grief and fear. "He doesn't seem to enjoy it much lately. And he's always so tired, Master Splinter. It has to be more than him not sleeping."

"Maybe they're connected," Donatello suggests, "Maybe whatever's going on is affecting his sleep, and improper sleep is exacerbating the symptoms, on and on in a vicious cycle of—"

Michelangelo groans, "We get it, Donnie."

"Shh, quiet," Leonardo hisses.

They shush each other back and forth as Splinter watches Raphael slumber with a heavy heart. Holding up a paw, they fall silent. "You are right, my sons. Raphael is wrestling with something very grave indeed."

He reaches out to them. "My turtles, you have been through so much in your young lives." They lean in, allowing him to rest a hand on them, one by one.

"How do we help him?" Michelangelo asks.

Moved as he always is by Michelangelo's generous spirit, he is loath to admit he has no answer. He is stopped before he can.

"By following Master Splinter's teachings," Leonardo pronounces, looking at him eagerly. "Ultimate mastery comes not of the body but of the mind. Through mindfulness and unity, we draw each other up."

He is humbled to hear his own words in his son's voice. Warm with pride, he inclines his head.

"A break certainly couldn't hurt," Donatello rubs his chin, "A little downtime to focus on rest and healing together."

Michelangelo brightens. "Like family time!"

Donatello and Leonardo share a fond glance. "Yeah, Mikey," Leonardo says, tucking the turtle under his arm, "like family time."

"You guys are the sappiest suckers I've ever known." Splinter chuckles as Leonardo and Michelangelo startle at Raphael's sudden utterance.

Donatello laughs, "Please, you know like seven people."

"Yeah, an' the other three are normal," Raphael grumbles. Yet he unabashedly proves himself equally "sappy" as he shifts to nuzzle Splinter's hand.

Recovering from their shock, Michelangelo exclaims, "Raph!" as Leonardo yelps, "You're awake!?"

Raphael yawns widely, opening one eye briefly to check the room. "Hard to sleep with the lot of you yappin'." He appears, if only for this moment, at ease. It is a gift to see him comfortable and unguarded. More so, Splinter acknowledges, because these things have been absent in him for too long.

"I won't say no to a break," he mumbles. He lifts a hand to swat at Leonardo blindly, "But I refuse to participate in anything called 'family time'."

Leonardo evades the wild arm, a mischievous spark in his eye, "Fine then, we'll call it team building."

Raphael scoffs, "No. That's worse."

And as the four bicker good-naturedly Splinter knows they will find peace, as surely as he knows the love that binds them. However much healing Raphael needs, he will not do it alone. His family would not let him if he tried.

[ssreeder]

bro i swear ara might be one of my Favorite characters she makes me so sad but i also like girly get a grip 😭 i love the way u write everbody especially sokka because hes so different but still has his yk quirks and tbh when ppl write him romantically they kinda leave it out

heres ara cuz i am this 🤏🏻 Close to just giving her a playlist since shes so ..woman. yk what i mean??

anyway i kinda Imagine her cut to be simliar to zuko and very uneven cuz bro Zhao will not acutally give a fuck to at least make it nice

this is just a fall from grace even tho its Basically the best thing right now since shes away from all that crazy shit

OMG ITS THE GIRL! The one & only Ara!!! I love how you did a before and after, girl thought she had her shit handled! Only to have her shit handed to her. She has serious sad girl energy but you’re so right she needs to handle it haha.

Thank you so much for this I am squealing with joy you’re amazing!!!

[seawitchkaraoke]

Discovered that I can just.... make homemade fries really easily and now i am liviiing

(literally just... cut potatoes into fries shape, mix with some sunflower oil, salt and whatever other seasoning you want (i like paprika and some garlic) and bake for like 30-40 minutes at 200°C)

what other foods am i missing out on that are actually super simple? what other things have i fooled myself into thinking are hard to do?? this is literally 1 ingredient plus seasonings

[gibbearish]

it is fascinating seeing ppl say "if you still vote biden just bc he's protected trans rights youre putting your own rights above that of the other people he'll kill" bc i'm like. well that operates under the assumption the Not Biden Option won't be killing those same other people Plus Trans People and given the history of presidents i would say that is a. how should i say this. wild fucking assumption? like idk framing it as "hello transgender, would you rather kill a bunch of non-americans or a bunch of fellow trans people. oh, you don't want to kill trans people? so you personally want to kill non-americans? racist selfish piece of shit" seems uhhhhh disingenuous at absolute best and a psyop at worst

[marinaandthefeminists]

Ok so I went to a local bar on live music night and blah blah blah, go to local bars with live music events bc you'll meet really cool artists and cheer loudly for their original songs bc you'll totally make their week if not their month,. It was so nice hearing the guys set change from covers to originals. Also he gave me a sticker.

[freakied]

guys im new to tumblr but i just had a thought about pornstar!gojo that i had to share. plsss can i sit at the gojofucker table for lunch plsss ^^

pornstar!satoru who just so happens to live in the apartment next to yours. sharing a wall means you don't get to be blissfully ignorant about his profession, because he just has to be a workaholic... or sex addict if you look at it in a different light. some nights you get no sleep because of the banging of a headboard against the wall and the long drawn out moans that sound a little too real for porn. if satoru wasn't such a good neighbor (or so attractive) you'd make a noise complaint by now.

but of course you get curious one night when one of the 'co-stars' he has over is crying joyous climax. surely he's not that good, right? you don't even register your actions as you open up your laptop and search up his name.

of course you click the first link that comes up. and of course you hold your breath as the first video loads up and you find out he's a whole lot bigger than you had imagined he was. then, of course, you scold yourself for thinking about his dick size in the first place as you dip your fingers beneath the waistband of your pyjama pants to touch yourself in time to the thrusts of his cock into someone else.

you have him on full view in the video in front of you, and the sounds of him fucking some girl into her third or fourth orgasm of the night just beyond the thin walls of your apartment. but the video in front of you ends and so you click on his profile and press play on the first thing that comes up because you're horny and in need of visual stimulation.

but you realize once the video starts up that it isn't a recorded porn video, it's a livestream: a cam show. you're watching your neighbor fuck some girl stupid while you're on the other side of the decorated wall in his background fucking yourself dumb on your fingers wishing it was him.

hundreds of people are watching, too, but none of them are hearing it in real time. feeling the walls vibrate each time the headboard hits it. none of them are going to wake up in the morning and bump into him in the hallway. he'll tell you good morning and get that sheepish look on his face because he knows he's loud when he cums and you look too tired to have slept through his orgasm.

you time your climax with his. release all over your sticky fingers when he cums deep in the girl he's got pinned into a mating press beneath him. you then realize, of course, that you'll never be able to look your neighbor in the eyes ever again now that you've watched him drain his balls into someone else, and you close your laptop lid to sleep.

you swear it will never happen again.

until it does.

the next night you're sitting on your couch with your laptop open. sitting in the waiting room of his cam show, a little 'thehonoredone will be live soon!' notification lighting up your screen as you make sure your toy is charged.

when there's a knock on your door, and you get up to answer it in your horny-brain-fog state just to swing the door open to satoru gojo, who is asking if he can borrow a laptop charger because his broke and he really can't have his laptop die in the middle of his... work meeting.

and you're so bashful seeing him, especially after what you did to yourself whilst thinking of him the night prior, that you don't even think about it, you just let him in! and the man you've now seen cum ropes is stepping into your apartment just to see your laptop (and vibrator) left laying on the couch. with his camshow waiting room open.

you'd be mortified if you had the time to be. because you don't know how or why it happens, but within minutes satoru's scheduled solo show turns into a marathon sex stream. 'SEEING HOW MANY TIMES I CAN MAKE MY NEIGHBOR CUM' is streamed live to hundreds of people who are all doing what you did last night, as they watch you get folded in half and fucked mean.

the screen doesn't even do it justice. he's big and rough but gentle in a way you can't think of the words to describe because the tip of his cock keeps kissing your cervix over and over again. the hands that you've only felt once when you shook his hand in greeting are now physically holding your thighs up so he can get deeper inside of you.

you learn a few things about your neighbor that night: like how he loves it when you say his name. and how he bites when he cums, sinks his teeth into your neck or shoulder or your chest when he spills into you just to fuck it deep and keep going. he also points out to you, when he whispers low in your ear so none of his viewers can hear, that every single person he's brought over to fuck, resembles you in some way or another.

you learn that they're all so loud because he really is just that good, but also because he wanted them to be loud. he wanted you to hear them get fucked mindless so that you'd get all hot and bothered at the thought of it happening to you too!

you also learn, as he fucks you through your last orgasm (sixth, by the way), that stumbling in on you gearingup to watch his pornm wasn't a mistake. he saw your name in his audience list... plus, he heard you time your orgasm with his lat night.

the walls are thin, after all.

i made a part 2!!!!

[sirfrogsworth]

Nostalgic memory loss and cherry picking annoy me to the core.

2006 features other CGI-laden flims such as...

Son of the Mask

And Ultraviolet

While 2024 featured...

Dune 2

Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes

This shot was literally impossible to create in 2006.

Good CGI is made by good artists who have the proper funding, time, and resources. The year doesn't matter.

There has always been bad CGI. There has always been good CGI.

Current CGI is much more advanced and allows for much bigger stories to be told. Most of it is so good, people do not even realize they are looking at CGI. Yes, Top Gun 2 shot a lot of amazing practical footage. But they still had 2400 VFX shots.

And no one could tell the difference.

But also, movies with 2000+ CG shots usually have a quality delta. They run short on time and budget and they have to prioritize which shots get the most love. If there is one valid complaint about modern CGI, it is the lack of consistency.

You might have a weird looking floating head in one scene...

And that is very easy to cherry pick and say "look at how bad CGI is these days!"

But then later in the movie you have the shadow realm moon.

A gorgeous scene that used a groundbreaking lighting effect. Using a strobe technique and a high speed camera, every frame in the scene had six different angles of lighting.

They were able to show a fast revolving sun circling around the characters without having to rig up some crazy light that flies around the room.

Again, not possible in 2006.

When artists have proper resources they will blow your mind.

CGI isn't worse. It is better than ever. It's just that the artists making Davy Jones were amazing. They had the time and money to realize their vision. They had 1400 fewer shots to make than Top Gun Maverick. (Jurassic Park only had 63.)

They also understood their limitations and didn't try to force the CG to do something it wasn't ready for yet.

[ramonathinks]

HIGHEST BIDDER.

summary: tired of your virginity, you decide to auction it off — but you weren’t thinking it would be leader of the notorious group, onychinus who offers the most money of $10,000,000.

cw// 18+ virginity loss, soft sex, small plot but not really, pet names, slight? knife play, oral, she/her pronouns, choking, finger sucking, praise, dumbification, degradation, slight fingering, corruption kink( if you squint), female guided masturbation (? kinda? idk!), squirting, attempt at aftercare, the twins have a cameo. wc: 5.3k

tagging: @lvminy @kissxcore @sunasbon @preciousamethyst (hope it’s okay to tag you guys 🥹🫶🏾) @satorubi

You could only assume it was Luke or Kieran who had told Sylus where you were and perhaps what you were up to. Or maybe it was that damn crow, who insisted you stayed inside. But really, it didn’t matter who said anything because Sylus was grabbing you before a single hand flew up. 

“10 million.” His voice was sharp — a hint of anger, annoyance and frustration on him, it oozed off his body and with the dazzling ruby eyes of him staring everyone down… they got the hint that he was throwing around. He was pissed. Too pissed to hear what anyone else had to say. Power rolled off of him in waves everyday but it was obvious that this day, and this girl and this place was provoking him. 

The auctioneer's lips trembled in his presence. “T-ten million going at once.” He awkwardly scanned the room, not a cough of a mumble was heard. “Going twice.” Breads of sweat gathered around his forehead and he swallowed. “Sold!” He exclaimed, nodding his head rapidly in Slyus’ direction, guiding the both of you towards a secluded area.

He scoffed and tightened his grip on your body, it took him little to no effort to hand over his card and in a few seconds the transaction was completed; a portion for them and the bigger sum of the money going to you. His eyes narrowed as he glared at you briefly. 

You couldn’t help but feel like the stupidest person ever and perhaps at this moment… you were. Being stuck inside and with nowhere to go most days because of the claims of dangers awaiting you, it was tiring. Plus, you had urges, like anyone else – womanly and carnal urges, desires and fantasies. You couldn’t help yourself when Luke mentioned it in passing and Kieran slapped him on the head telling him to shut up about it; it was simply interesting and something Linkon City would’ve never allowed. 

You hated the silence. “Are…are you mad at me?” Walking out of the pale building and to the dark cold outside, moving close to his motorcycle. Looking around you think about how the tenebrific ambience that’s casted over this place, it really wasn’t the same as where you grew up, time moves differently here, almost. 

“You went into the N109 Zone alone, potentially putting yourself in danger and you want to know if I’m mad at you?” He speaks with a hard tone, his touch scorching hot against your arm, his touch addicting. “Of all the times to be reckless…” He does a heavy sigh, followed by pinching the bridge of his nose. 

He’s handing you a helmet and putting his own, sitting down and waiting for your arms to wrap around his waist before he drives off. The wind rushes through you swiftly and no matter how many times you’re on his motorcycle, you can’t help but to feel fear course through every fiber of your body. 

Time always seemed to move faster when you were with him and it moved especially fast being on his motorcycle, he drove dangerously and it always led to you clinging more closer to him than you realized. 

Upon making it back, you jumped off the motorcycle and handed him the helmet, shaking your hair to make sure it looked halfway decent. 

Stepping back inside of the Headquarters of Onychinus, Luke popped his head around the corner and you mustered up the angriest glare that you could make him cower away. You could hear him and Kieran chattering about something. “No use in being mad at them, you brought this on to yourself.” Sylus told you, ushering you into his room.

You just sighed, sitting with your legs crossed on a singular chair that was near a small table in the room. The air felt more tense and uncomfortable than the other times you were here and you couldn’t help but to think of how for once you wished that Mephisto was here so that you wouldn’t be alone with him, not with this temper he clearly had. “Listen Sylus, it was a stupid thing and I know that—”

Lightening wasn’t as quick as him when he grabbed the sides of your face and kissed you. Nothing with him was ever warm and inviting, always hard and even a bit mean but luckily not forceful. His tongue licked at your lips and you complied with no hesitation. His tongue felt hot against your own, it sent flames up your body and you could feel everything in the pit of your stomach and to your throat. When he pulled away, he looked at you and from the way he smirked… you knew you looked out of it. Your eyes alone felt heavy and your knees were wobbling, too weak to stand. With your eyes on his, you watched the dazzling red become harder to look away from. 

The voices came strong and with a clear message: “fuck him… fulfill your desires…” they spoke to you and you both loved and hated the throbbing sensation that followed. You wanted to remind yourself that he was an enemy… it was too hard to do when he looked like he did and with a voice as deep and rich, it was almost unbearable. Yes, he was an enemy but you couldn’t lie to yourself; you knew the real reason you went to the auction was to make him jealous. You don’t know what it is about him that makes you react the way it does but it burns inside of you and to your very core. 

When the light from his eye dimmed and with rapid blinks you were back and felt more stable. “Your little mind always tells me more than your lips do. If you wanted me… I would’ve given you all of me with no hesitation.” It sounded like a promise and it swayed you, you leaned into his arms. “I can try to be gentle.” He whispered close to you, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. 

“Sylus,” His name trembles out of your lips. “I want you to touch me. I want you to make me…” You squeezed your thighs together. “I want you to make me feel good.” You felt too vulnerable in his presence but the truth slipped from your lips so fast as if you were forced to.

He looked as if something took over him, desire deep in his ruby eyes and you couldn’t look away from him, too turned on. “Take your clothes off.” His husky voice said above you. He didn’t move, just watched you shuffle your clothes off until you were in nothing but your panties; when you moved to take those off, it was then that he stopped you. “I’ll handle the rest.” He assured you before he laid you down — your head on his soft black pillows and your body rigid. 

You don’t know where the knife came from until it’s rubbing up your calf and moving its way up to your underwear, the cool metal piercing your skin just barely. Your breathing labored and measured, trying not to show your fear but it was failing you. “Stay still, I would hate to nick your pretty skin.” The knife tickled your thighs when he finally snipped open the front that held your secret possession.

He groaned at the sight, audible and bit his lips to contain himself more. You wanted to cover yourself but when your legs moved even a tiny bit to hide, he spread them wider and the cool breezes from around the room slapped across your feverish cunt. There was a smile so deep on his lips as he spread your lips open for him to see. “You ever touched down here?” The way he said it, as if you were all innocent, he narrowed his eyes when you nodded yes. “Show me.”

“H-huh?” You stuttered out. “I can’t just…” 

“Just show me what you normally do… when you’re all alone… in your room…under the covers.” He says it slowly, letting you absorb every word he says.

You’re bare and can feel just how comfortable his comforter set was. Your cunt wet and inviting but his eyes stay on yours, which makes it harder for you to breathe. “I just kinda just do…” Clumsily you spread your lips and simply slid your fingers around yourself, barely focusing on your clit but already overwhelmed. “But I can’t make myself cum, ‘m too sensitive.” His eyes transfixed on your fingers and pussy as you work yourself, your face contorting between pleasure and something else before you stop, heavily breathing. 

“Oh? No wonder you’re so unsatisfied, you don’t know your own body. Good thing I’m here to help.” He’s closer, sitting at the end of the bed yet so close to you. He spreads your legs and you can see a glimpse of excitement dancing in his eyes. He inspects you – stroking up your legs and inching his way up and down your thighs, ignoring how with every touch your breath hitches and your toes curl. “I haven’t even touched you that much and you’re already a mess.” He spreads you; opens you up and closes your folds again completely immersed in the gushy noises that follows.

“This,” Sylus says, spreading your sticky lips apart and his breathing getting heavier. “This is your pretty little clit.” He taps the bud with the rough pads of his fingers. “She sits right here behind these lips.” His fingers are lighting a fire and trailing it around your body. “Open these up again… and this,” you gasp, his fingers sitting right in the spot you never touch. “This twitching little hole? That’s where I’m going to fill you up.” He chuckles humorously, circling the hole and gathering the leaking wetness there, your hips rising on their own accord before he pulls away. 

“Now, your turn.” 

“But I—” You’re close to tears, wetness gathered at your lash line daring to fall. “I can’t, I don’t think I can do it like you.” You hated how needy you sounded and how clingy you were being. 

“I hardly did anything. Just simple touches, to show you where everything was. Pleasure points that you should follow. Did you want more? Did you like how I touched you, little one?” You couldn’t help but to gasp at the nickname, it filled your body with more wetness and he watched it leak down to his sheets. 

Your insides continue to flutter at the name and your face feels hot. “This is what you paid for right? Might as well get your fill from it.” You try to sound bold and intimidating but his demeanor just softens at your attempt. 

“As you wish.” He bends down and cups your cheek before placing a delicate kiss on your lips and you can’t help but to squeal a bit at the warmth that his lips bring you. His fingers brush your face before he moves his mouth down to your neck, licking a stripe before sucking on your skin. You can feel his lips curling into a smile at every noise you make. “I could do this all day… but where’s the fun in that? I’m sure you’ll make even better noises when I touch here.” Cupping the palm of his hand and gently slapping it against your core, your back arches and a whiny moan slips out. 

“See? So much better.” You hate the smug look on his face, his red eyes radiant in the dim room staring you down makes you self conscious and ready to hide yourself from him. “I’m going to put my fingers right here,” His breath tickling your core. “Then my tongue, okay?”

You just nod…unable to speak, he watches your face and holds his fingers up to your lips.“Put 'em in your mouth for me, get' em all wet…” Your tongue slides between them, saliva spilling out of the corners of your mouth. “Good girl,” he patted your head, ruffling your hair and you couldn’t help the feeling that took over you. Your mind was everywhere yet nowhere, just him… that was all your mind could think of and be consumed with. The praise had your body on a different kind of high.

He uses those same cool wet fingers to open you wider. Slowly dipping inside of you, circling your center and easing inside, making you tighten up. “Don’t clench, just relax. It’ll only hurt more if you do that.” You take a few deep breaths, allowing your chest to fill up and expand before a release. He spreads your lips and he just looks. There’s a hum on his lips before he kisses your clit; full tongue running across the sensitive area. Your back lifts and arches off the bed but putting his hand on your lower stomach – he forces you to take it. There’s a look in his eyes that’s daring you to disobey him and it makes your tummy flutter. 

He puts his full tongue against your clit and you try not to move but your body trembles. His fingers draw circles around your thighs, inching closer to your slit. It makes you realize that he was simply distracting you to alleviate the slight pain from when his fingers actually slipped inside. When they did, you gasped aloud. “Syl–us… please.” Your legs threatened to close but you forced yourself to keep them open and it took a lot out of you.

“Good girl.” He muttered, obviously appreciating your efforts. “So tight…” He tries to move his finger but you only flinch and groan, which makes him use two fingers from his opposite hand to rub lazy circles against your clit. That alongside your breathing helps your body relax and brings a lot of ease to you, opening yourself up. He slowly strokes your insides, taking his time to drag it forward and back, slipping it out before bringing it back inside. You can’t help but notice how eyes flicker from your lower half to your face occasionally but you don’t say anything. “Deep breath.” He tells you before he slips another finger in beside the other. 

You whine when he moves them both inside of you, your body rocking against his fingers with a circular motion of your hips. He opens them up before closing them again, you grip the sheets. He felt so deep inside of you with just his fingers… the real thing would be different – longer and thicker – you didn’t know if you were ready. “You’re overthinking aren't you? Just focus on how you’re feeling right now.” His eyes are on yours, his fingers curling inside of you so deliciously that you forget to breathe. When he takes them out, you feel incredibly empty, your hole clenching for more. You're huffing and shaking when you look his way again, he’s opening and closing the two fingers that were inside of you; playing with the slick that was there before he sucks them off. He slips them back inside, sliding them on your inner walls and pressing upwards – the pads of his fingers rubbing circles inside of your soft insides; which makes you squeeze his fingers tight. Rubbing your clit again to soothe you, he slowly curves them as he slips them out – you gasp at the feeling.

He grips your hips and forces you to slide down, his breath knocking the wind out of you when you feel it right by your slit. Your fingers tightly gripping the duvet in anticipation, awaiting his tongue. You gasp when his tongue circles over the hole, nudging there just a bit before he licks up a wet trail; moving back to your clit. He plants a small kiss on the pink throbbing bud, then another before he takes it in his mouth and sucks. His tongue moving around in shapes you can’t make out until you feel the hard S he craves in with his mouth, his head rocking against your legs. When the Y comes, he’s peeling back the hood of your clit and flicking the initial inside rapidly. He slides his face down before he finishes, he pulls your sticky lips apart and dives inside. The tip of his tongue sliding back and forth achingly and painfully slow, his head shaking to the sides when he licks upwards, curving his tongue to hit a particular spongy spot that makes your thighs shake. Your fingers now dig through his silvery hair, pulling when he does a harsh lick against your core. “Taste so good…” He mumbles, rolling your clit between his tongue.

The obscene noises that you hear comes from his mouth feasting on you – slurping, sucking and even the noises of his own groans. Groans that were akin to a dying man giving his last prayer, his groans were drowning out the sounds of your own moans. “I can’t take it–” Slushing sloppy noises are what drowns out your moans and pleads. “Sylus please…” You can feel your own wetness under your bottom and embarrassment floods through you, and at the right time his nose bumps into your clit and you grind into it more with a huff; nothing but useless babbling coming out of your mouth. Another lick causes your toes to curl and your body to twist and coil when a leaking orgasm passes through you; which doesn’t stop him from sucking everything that you have to offer. 

 His hair now disheveled from you tugging and pulling on it — his face sopping wet from your juices and you can’t help but look away from him, he sits completely upwards. “Look at me.” Your eyes back on his, biting your lip before you looked down at the bulge in his pants – it looked so big and your mouth ran dry. It was an accident and unconscious thing but you licked your lips while staring and before you knew it, he was speaking again. “You look really interested in pleasing me.” His brow is arched and his voice low. “This is going to be fun.” He said more to himself than you, standing and unzipping his pants. 

You were still completely naked yet he was clothed – almost fully – just his cock sitting out of his pants standing hard and proud against his stomach. This sight before you made you remember who was in power and just how much power you lacked. But wordlessly, you got on your knees. “You want it? Want my cock? ‘Can see how you’re panting for it.” He was truly condescending and knew how to put you in your place, but the way he made you cum made you see nothing but starlight and you wanted to please him.“Come and take what you want sweetie, take what you need.” You stared – 7 and a half inches of a tanned cock and two firm balls blocked your view of everything else – the tip leaking with white sticky precum dripping down. You trace your tongue up the sides, licking up anything you can to get the taste of him before you kiss the head; then you open your mouth around him and let your teeth run against the sides before you suck him in.

“Watch your teeth, kitten.” His nose scrunched up and he closed his eyes, his shoulders growing relaxed, you take what you can’t fit in your mouth in your hand and give it a few gentle strokes. “And be careful around the— thehead.” He says when your tongue runs a circle around the tip and one wet suck. His face relaxes for a second and you can’t help but to look him over. You knew he was good looking but right now with pleasure all over him, he looks a thousand times better. 

The heaviness in your mouth felt so foreign but you welcomed it, the masculine salty taste that followed when you bobbled your head back and the way your cheeks puffed out because of him; it felt good. Your saliva dripped on the floor beneath you, your technique sloppy but when Sylus gripped the back of your head, you felt like you were on cloud nine. He gently guided you, pulling you forward and back – letting your mouth take him as deep as you can, before he pulled you back off. He inches himself inside, you suck and swallow around him, hearing him groan above you sent your body into a frenzy. You choke a bit but he keeps a steady pace to train your mouth again, muffled moans erupt from you when he moves your head again, hitting a deeper spot almost reaching the back of your throat. 

“Such a good girl…” He cooed and a whine slipped through your lips, his praise making your thighs clench together. When he finally pulled you off, strings of spit broke off from your mouth and his dick. “I’m going to come inside of you.” He tells you, but you can barely register what he’s saying too far gone on your high of being used. You’re smiling a dopey grin and he squeezes the sides of your face to make you look at him, your glossy eyes in a permanent daze. “That was only the beginning, are you sure you can handle the rest?”

“Mhm. I’m sure.” Your voice is trembling and hoarse as you speak. You wanted to feel him cum inside of your throat but maybe you were being too greedy, your body swayed. He lifted you up from the floor, your knees burning. You lay there, your eyes droopy as you wait for him, all you hear is movement and a zipper before he returns to you. 

“You belong to me, got it?” His hand wrapped around your throat. “Your body is mine to please, to fuck with… to do whatever I want with. And I don’t plan on letting you forget it.” His voice is hard and mean again, his jaw tense as he stares in your eyes.

“I knowww.” A whimper mixed with a whine comes from your throat. He doesn’t say anything, just sighs. Your body trembles and you sniffle, it makes him cradle your hand in his hands.

“You’re shaking, are you that scared?” He asks you gently, as if you’re a flower who needs tending to. Your eyes wide but say nothing. He laced your fingers together, his hands covering the both of yours in an iron grip. “It’s okay kitten, I won’t hurt you.”

You yelp upon feeling a cool sensation hit your lower half, him rubbing it more inside. He’s hovering over you, his beautiful face watching over yours as he slides his cock over your pussy, not daring to push it inside. He just moves his hips well enough that you’re gasping every time, his tip bumps your clit and you bite your lip, your nails ready to pierce his back. You lean into his touch and he kisses your jaw, trailing them down and gently nibbling at your collarbone, sucking on the skin. “Relax,” He says, playing with your wet folds, he starts to play with your clit again and you shiver. “I’ll be gentle.” Did Sylus truly know the meaning of the word? You’re wailing when he slides just the head in, barely. Easing a small bit of his tip in and fucking you just a tiny bit. 

Then you feel him nudging more inside of you – his head thick and the squelching noises of him moving in make you tense up, but he whispers in your hair to calm you down and then you’re sucking him in. Your voice is gurgly when more of him slides in, a new found warmth inside of you. “Still so tight…” A strained groan fell from his lips, you reached from him with tears in your eyes. Sylus didn’t move, he rubbed your hair but stayed there then he did a tiny jerk of his hips, the stretch makes you sob, but you know that he’s only barely inside of you and that there was more to come. He tells you to take a deep breath and you listen, not wanting to be in any more pain; he slips more of it inside, a thumb on your clit. He presses his thumb and does small circles around it – strangled sounds come out of your lips – he still hasn't moved. 

You look at him, you put his face in your hands and look in his eyes, telling him just how ready you are for this. He’s working his cock in slowly, inch by inch but he looks like he's scared to overwhelm you. When his pelvis meets yours you gasp…your hips buckle when he completely bottoms out, a sigh dying on your lips and tears free falling… it didn’t hurt as much as you expected it to but the pain still lingered. Your eyes rolling back and you squeal, your fingers holding tightly against him. “Oh…oh… Sylus.” Panting – your eyes probably filled with hearts — as you look at him, lovingly.  The stringing stretch subsides when he does a small thrust, not too deep but enough to make you feel good. He pulls back and pushes himself back inside, watching your expression as you take him. 

He’s being as gentle as he can, you notice. His hips thrusting soft, just nudging the soft spots inside of you. He pushes inside of you again, the first painless thrust and you both moan. Your belly tenses when he speeds up and the noises of wet skin slapping makes your body heat up. He’s rocking his hips against yours, circling his hips clockwise in a way that makes you shudder. You can feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of you, he fucks you a bit harder than before. The sound of his balls slapping against you is all you can hear – his strokes getting deeper as he slows down, you look down and see the strings of wetness coating his cock as he stuffs you full of it again. “God, feels so good inside of you.” His mouth slightly agape.

 A small squirt of wetness spills out of you as he thrusts inside, some of it under your bodies and some of it splashing upwards as he digs deeper inside of you. You’re squirming and squirting, eyes crossing over when you hear him say: “Marking your territory, kitten?” It only makes you gush more, squeezing around him. You can feel his deep chuckles as it vibrates from his chest to yours – he’s always mocking you but right now you could care less —the way your body feels has you ready to bend to his whim. “This little kitten and these sharp claws…” he hisses when you press your nails deeper into his skin, you dig them down his back. The long drag of his cock felt amazing against your walls, a small sharp thrust inside has you both grunting.“Clenching around me so hard.” He kisses the top part of your head and you relish in how caring he’s been, you almost forgot how any of this started.

“What’s my name?” His voice thick with a bit of annoyance, it was clear that he didn’t forget how any of this started. You felt full, lifting your hips trying to meet his thrust, his cock hitting spongy parts inside of you that made you see nothing but bright colors.

“Sy-Sylus!” Your eyes rolling back in your skull and your mouth in a permanent ‘o’ shape as he’s inside of you, pure bliss in the form of the gentle thrusting of his body into yours. 

“Who do you belong to?” His teeth clenched and he’s squeezing your waist hard, staring at you… his ruby red eyes glowing in the dim room. His pace picking up faster, squelching plopping noises from the two of you grew louder.

“Youuuu. Sylus.” You admit, puffy pussy sucking him inside. “I belong to you.” He touches your stomach, gazing at it as he fucks himself inside of you. 

“Who does this pussy belong to?” His hand on your throat. Grinding his pelvis against yours, your clit pulsing against him. He stops and slides out before he jerks back in, gripping your thighs.

“Sylus!” You’re breathing hard and feel him twitching inside of you when you say his name again.

“And you tried to give it away.” He slapped your cunt and you jolted, a small squirt coming out of you. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is muffled and tears fall; you feel so good and you can’t believe you made the stupid decision in the first place when you could’ve asked him to do this… to make you feel this good. Closing your eyes, you focus on the feeling. He’s stretching you out, squeezing your ass in both of his hands to further spread your body open for his pleasure.

“Eyes on me. Keep looking at me. Look at me while I touch you. Look at me when I make you cum.” Your eyes still closed and he sighs. “Look at me or I’ll stop.”  He gives a sloppy wet thrust pumping his cock inside of you. 

That simple statement made your eyes snap open, “Sylus please…please don’t stop!”  There’s a tremor in your voice and the bed creaks at the same time; your wet walls swallowing him deeper inside. “Please fill me up. I need it.” You’re babbling and the curve of his cock hits a new spot inside of you, the tip grazing your cervix just slightly… just enough to make you feel good and to gasp around him. 

It felt like he was going to devour you.

And you craved it.

So you let him. 

It was one last thrust that was your undoing as you both cum, your back arched and your body feeling completely boneless, wetness slipping out of you as he pulled away. Your body shaking, he kisses you and pulls you close to his bare chest. As you’re drifting to sleep you hear him whisper in the sweetest voice, “I truly do adore you.” 

But maybe you dreamt it.

When you wake, your body is covered in sweat and a heavy arm has you caged in. There’s a dull ache between your thighs and you feel wetness there too, you shiver. You slide from behind the arm and attempt to stand. “Fuck.” You mutter, looking for your clothes or for any clothes. You mentally slap yourself upon remembering that Sylus cut your panties as you rummage through his closet. You pull out a folded plain dress and slip it on, making your way out of his bedroom. You close the door gently so that he can stay asleep and you walk towards the main hall.

“Sounds like Boss really taught you a lesson.” You heard snickering and with a slight limp to your walk, you moved over to slap Luke’s arm.

“Looks like it too.” Kieran said, making you hit him too. “It’s not like we didn’t hear it, you two were so loud that Mephisto left and I swear before he left that he tried to cover his ears. I would’ve done it too, if I thought it would drown off the ‘Sylus don’t stop’ you kept moanin.” Mimicking your voice made you kick him in the shin, which he yelped at. 

“Both of you just hush. I-I’m leaving.” You make your way for the door as they trail behind you.

“So this is you attempting to sneak off?” Luke snorts, you know he’s rolling his eyes behind the mask.

“Yeah right, boss really isn’t letting you leave now.” Kieran chuckles.

“They’re right, you know.” For a split second your body is lifted in the air and slammed against the front of a hard naked chest and for possibly the millionth time today, your body felt hot all over. “You really won’t be leaving my side now.”

But you already knew that.

[the-librarby]

HOME EARLY

- SIMON RILEY (COD)

18+ MDNI.

Simon is overwhelmed by the urge to breed his wife.

Umm ovulation hit, and it’s clearly apparent here. Good luck and happy reading.

You think it’s your imagination when you hear the front door creek open. It’s almost four am, and the wind is making every wall in the house shake so you dismiss it and try to go back to sleep.

But then there’s a thud from the living room. You shoot up in bed and rush to flick the lamp on, listening out for any other sounds. Cautiously you reach for the metal baseball bat beside your bed and slowly step down the hallway into the living room where you heard the noises. When you get closer, there’s a weird shuffling of clothes rubbing together, with the bat now high in your hands you peek around the corner and see hulking figure by the doorway. It doesn’t seem to move, busy looking down at something in their hands before placing it on the entry way table.

Their calm and careful movements make you sigh a breath of relief. You flick on the floor lamp around the corner, alerting your husband into looking your way as you lower the baseball bat.

“Jesus Simon, you scared me,” you mutter, propping the bat up against the wall.

Simon drops his keys down alongside his phone, “Sorry darlin’ didn’t mean to wake you,”

You eyes widen when you catch full sight of his face, there’s blood crusted all down the side that seems to connect from his cheek to his split lip. You rush over to take a closer look, “What happened?”

He moves out of your worrying grasp by tilting his head away and grabbing your outstretched hands, “Nothin’” he mutters, “Perp’ got scrappy with a knife, had to disarm him. Looks worse than it is,”

You frown trying to look closely at the wound in the dim lighting, “Let me clean it,” Simon is already shaking his head not wanting to make a big deal of it but you won’t let him brush you off, “Let me clean it, Simon. It won’t take long, who knows what was on that knife, could get infected.”

Simon looks down at your determined gaze and sighs, already defeated. Your stubbornness matched his easily on a good day, not that anyone ever believed little Simon’s wife could be capable of that. He’s learnt to just give in when it came to you wanting to take care of him.

“Whatever you want love,” he says softly, letting go of your hands.

“Wait for me in the bathroom.” you reply, stepping out of his way.

Simon does as he’s asked and walks across the lounge room, he’s just about to round the corner when he sees the bar leaning against the wall. All he can do is smirk at the sight of it before disappearing into the bedroom. He’d got you that bat out of protection, and at first you had laughed when he tried to teach you how to use it, calling him paranoid because of his work. All he knows is now he would never want to be on the answering end of one of your swings.

He flicks the switch on to your ensuite bathroom, allowing the warm light fill the small space. Your home was on the smaller side of cozy, being this close to the city meant you couldn’t afford to have a bigger space, but each day Simon was working towards saving up for a bigger place in the suburbs. A place big enough to have little ones running around, the idea is what got him up everyday for work.

He flips the lid of the toilet down and sits on it waiting for you to walk in. He looks down at his hands to see dried dirt and blood under his nails, as well as his wedding ring which glints softly under the lighting. He should have showered at work but it was just one of those nights where he couldn’t wait to get back to you. He was having a lot more of those nights lately, the thrill of chasing criminals just wasn’t his biggest priority anymore.

When you walk in you see Simon hunched over the toilet waiting for you, he watches as you turn the bathroom tap on to wash your hands, “Should take your uniform off.” you suggest.

He hums and begins to unbutton it without question, by the time you fish out the first aid kit from under the bathroom sink he’s already hung it over the shower door leaving him in his white undershirt.

You nod your head in the direction of his top, “Lose the top too,”

He raises an eyebrow at your little smirk but assents, “Yes ma’am.”

You let out a small appreciative hum as he slips it off, carelessly letting it hang from the bathroom counter. With an antiseptic wipe in hand, you step in between his outstretched legs and reach for his chin. Simon tilts his head pliantly in your hold and lets you gently wipe away the crusted blood on his cheek and jaw. Absentmindedly he rests his hands on your bare thighs and feels up and down.

“You’re home early,” you comment, focusing as you get closer to the open cut on his cheek.

Simon grunts when the antiseptic touches the open site, “Yeah, slow night,”

You raise an eyebrow, “That’s the third slow night this week, scarin’ all the criminals off or something?”

He wishes, it would be his biggest dream to rid of all the scum in this city if it meant you could walk freely without any danger.

When he doesn’t reply you frown and tilt his chin up with your pointer finger until he meets your gaze, “Seriously, what’s up with you Simon? You’ve been off all week,”

His arms circle your thighs protectively and pull you closer, “Can’t a man just miss his wife?”

You smile sweetly and thread your fingers through his hair to sweep it off his forehead, “That’s it? Nothing else is going on?”

He shakes his head, “You’re the only thing on my mind, love.”

You roll your eyes at his sappy comment and lean over to reach for another antiseptic wipe. Due to limited mobility with Simon’s arms wrapped around your legs you have to grip one of his shoulders and stretch your arm to grab it. You tear the corner open with your teeth and drop the package into the small waste bin before wrapping the wipe around your finger. The cut on his lip doesn’t look as bad, and it’s already starting to scab. So you carefully dab around the edges with the upmost concentration, when you get too close to the open wound Simon hisses and pulls back.

You mumble a small apology but grab ahold of his chin to keep him still, “Almost done, stop moving,”

“Fuckin’ hurts,” he mutters.

You look at him incredulously, but it quickly melts away when you see the small smirk on his face, “You’re such a baby,” you whisper, leaning down to kiss the side of his mouth, “Thought policemen were meant to be tougher than this,”

He tightens his arms around your thighs and squeezes hard in a flex of his strength. You grip his shoulders as you begin to lose balance but he doesn’t seem to care as he rests his chin on your stomach to look up at you, “Can be tough if that’s what you want,”

You pat his shoulder, “Alright sweetheart, no need to prove yourself,”

“Not enjoying the lip you’re givin’ me, love,” he retorts.

You smile condescendingly, “Gonna do something about it?”

Without warning Simon stands from his seat, lifting you up with him. You laugh and grab his shoulders for support before wrapping your legs around his waist. He takes a step before turning to face the bathroom mirror and drops you on the counter, his hands rest either side of your thighs as he leans close into your space.

Even covered in cuts and bruises you can help but admire how handsome he is. You lean back against the bathroom mirror and run your hands from his shoulders down to his chest, the healthy fat that covers his muscles makes a certain part of your brain purr.

Simon notices immediately and drags you closer until your hips are pressed against his, “Somethin’ you like?”

You look up at him lazily, hands still caressing his chest, “Just admiring the view.”

With his hands still gripping your thighs he leans down to kiss you against the mirror. When his lips meet yours you try to be gentle as to not disturb the cut, but he dismisses all your worries of hurting him when he leans in harder. You can only gasp against his lips when his hand reaches under your shirt—his really—and slip beneath your panties.

“Simon—” you start, pulling away to rest against the mirror when his finger teases at your folds.

He shushes you and presses his lips against yours again leaving you no choice but to let him do as he pleases. It’s a gentle tease at first, he’s more occupied with the way his tongue finds yours than the lazy caress of his finger against your clit. You grab his shoulders for anchorage before dragging your fingers up into his hair at the nape of his neck. His finger is joint by another, both pressed together as rub circles around your clit more earnestly.

You can’t help the way you involuntarily bite down on his lip at the sudden burst of pleasure that spikes up your spine. Simon hisses and pulls away, when you realise what you’ve done you immediately start apologises, “Sorry,” you gasp, holding the sides of his face, “Sorry Simon, are you okay?”

Simon zeros in on the way his blood dots your bottom lip, turning it a rosy red. It’s barely anything but it’s enough to make his cock twitch, “You’re killing me, sweetheart,”

You huff, swiping your thumb under the fresh blood that has beaded on his lip unbeknownst to the thoughts that are running through his head, “I didn’t bite that hard,”

You place your hands on his shoulders before he can kiss you again, “We should clean tha—”

“No,” he couldn’t think of anything worse than separating from you right now.

You look at him questionably, “Just so it can heal properly Si—”

“No,” he says more authoritatively, rubbing your clit with renewed vigour just to convince you.

Your head thunks back against the mirror as you let out a moan. You sink your nails into his shoulders and clench your eyes closed as you focus on the pleasure slowly building within your core. When he leans in this time you let him, instead of a kiss like you were expecting, you feel Simon’s tongue swipe across your bottom lip. With a hooded gaze you look at him suspiciously, only to see his pupils have dilated and his breathing has turned more ragged. Rather than commenting on it you tug him closer and kiss him messily, uncaring of the way his bloodied lip tastes.

It elicits a groan out of him and a reward for you as his middle finger slips further down and curls up inside. You gasp, opening panting against Simon’s mouth as he makes quick work of fingering you just the way you like without all the teasing.

“Fuck, Simon—” you moan, clawing your nails down his biceps, “More, please, more,”

Simon grunts, gripping your thigh with his free hand while the other complies with your demands and sinks another finger in. Having you blissed out against the bathroom, with just his fingers alone strokes the egotistical part of his mind— he was responsible for bringing you pleasure, for making you happy. He was such a good husband, and he would be an even better father. A vision of you with your belly swollen and your tits heavy against his palm sent such violent pleasure down his spine that he almost came in his pants at the thought. He has to grip his cock, hard, until it’s stifled to a weak twitch so he can collect his thoughts.

You’re still blissfully unaware, rolling your hips against his fingers until your clit bumps against his palm, completely taking control over your own pleasure. Simon only watches as you bring yourself to the edge, jaw slightly slack as you move with unrestrained inhibition.

“I want a baby,” he announces.

Your eyes fly open, moment completely shattered as your orgasm recedes. You drop your full weight against the counter, hands propping you up by your sides, “What?”

Simon licks his lips, slowly withdrawing his fingers from your cunt, “I want a baby,” he says more clearly.

You pant softly, trying to catch your breath, “Where is this coming from?”

His hands come forward to hike your shirt up, slowly caressing your hips, “Can’t stop thinking about it,” he says cautiously, scanning your eyes for any sense of worry, “I want to take care of you—”

“You do take care of me—”

“And our baby,” he finishes.

At your pause he continues, “Do you not want this?”

You frown, licking your lips in thought, “I do,” you respond tentatively, “I just didn’t think you were ready, I know your job means a lot to you,”

He shakes his head, “Not anymore,”

You sit up properly and carefully cup the side of his face, “Is this why you’ve been coming home early?”

He turns instantly to kiss the palm of your hand, his wordless response says it all. You can’t help but huff and smile at the display, of course there was a reason. There’s always a reason behind Simon’s actions.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You whisper.

He looks at you from the corner of his eye before leading a trail of kisses down you wrist, “Didn’t know how to tell you,”

You laugh, “Well you had no problem telling me now, what changed?”

One of his hands reaches down to rub at your stomach, “I was imagining it,”

You bite your lip and try to laugh it off, but his movements send a shiver down your spine, “Imagining what?”

Simon looks at you more earnestly now as he rubs all around your stomach and hips with his massive hands, “How beautiful you’d look with a swollen belly, carrying our child,” he looks down at you as his hands slide under your shirt to cup your breasts, “How nicely these will fill out towards the end of it,”

You gasp at the rough squeeze of his hands, it makes you throb and circle your legs around his waist. At your response, he grabs your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, you wrap your arms around his neck for balance and stare into his eyes. His gaze is steady, and unflinching, there was no room for doubt.

“You really want this?” You ask.

“Yes,”

You smile and cradle the side of his face, rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone, “Okay,”

“Okay,” He nods. “Now?”

You balk at his eagerness “Now? I’m on the pill, Simon, it won’t work now,”

Your reluctance doesn’t deter him as he leads a trail of kisses down your neck, “Not even if I fill you up?”

Lord help you, the idea is consuming him already. You look up at the ceiling as he pulls the neckline of your shift to continue his trial across your collarbone, “That would kinda defeat the purpose of birth control,”

He pauses, “But it’s not one hundred percent accurate,”

You sigh, “No, it’s not one hundred percent accurate,”

He smirks smugly, “Then I have a chance,”

“A slim chan—” you try to say before he cuts you off with a kiss. It’s urgent, and messy and excited. In his hurry to get the ball rolling he yanks at the old sleep shirt you wearing too hard causing a hole to tear through it.

“Simon!” You gasp, staring down at it, “This is my favourite top to sleep in,”

“Sorry darlin’,” it’s an empty apologise to get on your good side as he lifts the shirt off your head, “I’ll make it up to you,”

You huff as you let the shirt fall away to the bathroom floor, “How?” You challenge.

Simon licks his lips as he stares at your exposed chest, “By filling you up real nice,”

You refuse to acknowledge the way that sends a shiver down your spine, “That’s not really making up to me if it’s something you also want,”

Simon hums, you’re right. It’s completely selfish, he does want this— a lot. So much so, that he doesn’t even defend himself as he reaches for the waistband of your panties, “I’ll spoil you once you’re pregnant,” he promises, pulling your fabric down your legs until they’re all the way off.

He leans forward and latches on to one of your nipples, you gasp and squirm when his teeth tease around the sensitive edge of it until he pulls away, “No missus of mine will lift a finger when she’s carrying our child.”

You moan, arching your back off the mirror to avoid the cold glass pressing against you. Simon continues his path over to your other breast, taking your nipple into his mouth while his hand takes care of the other. You reach for the zipper of his pants, doing your best to remove them without getting distracted.

Simon gives you a hand by shoving his pants and underwear down in one go once you’ve managed to unbutton them. His cock is flushed and aching, it throbs once against his abdomen before you take it in your hand and give it a leisurely pump. He groans and thrusts his hips into your hand as you continue your pace. It’s not long before he lets out a warning grunt, twitching and leaking within your palm, making the slide nice and wet. His forehead rests against your shoulder completely taken over by the way your fingers circle around the sensitive head of his cock taking him closer to the edge. You can tell by his shallow breathing that he’s almost there, so you give him one last flick of your wrist before squeezing the base of his cock cutting off any impending orgasm. He grips your thighs, hard, and clenches his eyes closed at the pleasure coming to a painful halt.

“That’s fucking karma,” you whisper into his ear.

He groans and drops a kiss against your shoulder before straightening up, “No more fucking around.” he states, hooking your legs over his arms so he has a nice view of your dripping cunt.

With one of his hands he guides his cock forward, rubbing the head of it through your wet folds. You lean back with your hands propped against the counter as you watch. When the head of his cock catches, he slides all the way home, stretching you wide open. You hiss at the sting, even after all this time you’re still unused to the way he’s able to stretch you so far.

“S’fuckin’ tight,” he grunts, barely restraining himself from holding still. “How have I still not broken this cunt in?”

You clench your eyes closed waiting for the sting to pass, “Too big,”

He rubs his thumb soothingly up and down your inner thigh, “You can take it love.”

When the pain recedes you let out a deep exhale and rest against the bathroom mirror. Simon takes that has his sign to give a shallow thrust, slowly taking his time until you’re completely falling apart on his cock. Every punch forward sends a breath out of you forcing you to breathe in short pants. He grips your hips and pulls you forward on each thrust sending him as deep as he can in this position.

“Simon,” you moan. “M’close.”

He only grunts in acknowledgment at your warning. You can’t help but reach down with your fingers to circle your own clit, Simon is immediately drawn in watching the way you move against him to get yourself off. It’s not long until you’re clenching tight around him, dragging him down with you into your first orgasm. You rest against the mirror of the bathroom, taking heaving breaths as you try to collect yourself. Simon is still holding your hips with his cock inside you as he does the same.

“Gotta go again,” he mutters.

“Huh? What did you say?” You pant.

Weakly he thrusts forwards to test the waters, you cunt immediately spasms around him in overstimulation. “S’not enough love, I need to fill you,”

“Simon—” you huff as he straightens up, making his cock shift, “We can try again later,” you press your hand against his abdomen when he tries to thrust back in, “I don’t think I have another one in me,”

“Course you do,” he assures, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ears, “Just one more, and I’ll be satisfied. You can do that for me can’t you?”

You whine when he thrusts forward against your wishes. It aches, and you’re exhausted, but with each gentle thrust the twitching of your thighs slowly starts to fade. Simon hoists you up into his arms, walking you into the bedroom, all while still inside your cunt to ensure his seed doesn’t leak out— he’s got to get the most out of this after all.

Carefully he lays you down on the bed, its soft surface is incomparably better compared to the hard counter. You sigh in instant relief and shut your eyes, Simon won’t let you rest though. With one leg propped over his shoulder, holding you nice and open he grinds down into you. He barely even thrusts out as he focuses on driving as deep as he can into your cervix.

“Fuck!” You shout, holding your lower abdomen. You can feel every inch of him going impossibly deeper.

“I’m gonna make that belly swell,” he slurs, “You’ll have no choice but to have my child,”

“Simon—fuck—come on,” you whine, begging for him to finish inside you.

“Almost there doll,” he groans.

“Want your baby,” you moan, gripping onto one of his hips to pull him closer, “C’mon Simon, you’ll give it to me won’t you? Don’t back out on me now,”

It’s a ragged breath he breathes out in response to your comments, “Need you to take care of me— take care of us, you’re the only one who can do it,”

He clenches his eyes closed and slams into you one last time as he comes again. You’re starting to feel uncomfortably full with both his seed and cock still straining against your hole. You start to feel boneless as sleep washes over you, Simon will take care of everything as always so you feel no need to stay awake.

Until you feel your world tilt as you flip over. When you open your eyes you’re already on your stomach, knees sunk into the mattress with Simon lined up behind you.

“No,” you cry, angling your hips away, “Simon, no more baby, that’s enough,”

Simon is mesmerised by the way his come is starting to leak out of you. Before it can drip onto the sheets, he plugs it up crudely with his thumb, using his other free hand to hold your wriggling hips in place.

“One more sweetheart,” he promises, “Just one more, and that’s it,”

Jesus what the fuck did you sign up for? He’s completely taken over by his own self image of you, pregnant and barefoot that he can’t even see how wrung out you are. You’re completely exhausted, sore, and full. But all he’s seeing is how much more you can take. With his thumb still plugging your hole, he leans over your back to whisper in your ear.

“You agreed with me earlier,” he states, “this is what we have to do, I need to fill you up with as much as I can,”

You pout slumping your shoulders against the mattress, “I’m sore, Simon, I can’t do it again,”

He lays gentle kisses against your shoulder, “You’re gonna look so beautiful with my child,” he repeats, “I’ll take care of everything, including these,” he reaches down to hold your tits in his hands, pinching both nipples with his thumb and forefinger, “When they get full. I’ll do it all for you,”

You moan weakly, jutting your hips back against his pelvis where his cock is already hard and waiting. Without waiting for a verbal response he lines himself up with your already soaked entrance, and slides back in. It’s easy now, you’ve moulded yourself against the shape of him after multiple rounds and the way his come drips out around the sides of his cock makes it a wet slide. All you can do is grip the sheets beneath you and cry every so often at a particularly harsh thrust that makes you even more sore. You must have your wires crossed because eventually the soreness builds into pleasure, and soon enough you’re meeting his thrusts halfway hoping your clit will smack against balls for some extra stimulation.

“That’s it,” he groans, gripping your ass tighter as he pulls you back against him, “Last one, darlin’ make sure you catch all of it,”

“Put it in me,” you slur, “All of it Simon.”

As if hearing your prayers Simon reaches down to rub your clit, immediately sending you over the edge one last time. Your thighs squeeze shut around his hand, and milk him of one last orgasm. You moan at the past pitiful ropes that fill you up, if you don’t get pregnant this time. You’re sure once you’re off the pill you’ll get pregnant next time.

Simon makes sure to push every drop in as deep as he can before finally pulling out. You moan in relief, slumping against the mattress entirely fucked out and at your limit. When he touches your thigh, you bat his hand away.

“Get the fuc’off me,” you mutter, “Fuckin’ manic,”

He chuckles and leans down to kiss your cheek, “I love you,”

You cringe as you feel his come start to leak out of you, “Love you too.”

[buckytakethewheel]

heavy in your arms

Summary: Bucky has big arms. And you've been dreaming about losing yourself in them since you saw him for the first time. Inspo: beefy!bucky wrapping his bicep around your neck to pull you flush to his chest while he pounds into you deliciously Pairing: beefy!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Warnings/tags: smut; porn without plot; breath play (kinda); arm kink; chocking kink; silent play; p in v; unprotected sex; praise kink (reader); no use of Y/N Word count: 2.6k Notes: quick drabble i wrote in like two hours because i couldn't stop thinking about this post by @fckmebarnes

You’re not entirely sure how you got to tonight’s events.

You met Bucky Barnes a few months ago in a local market. He seemed lost. Like buying tomatoes and plums from a sweet vendor on the street was the hardest chore someone could do in a lifetime. You approached. He looked uneasy, pulled away. You spoke, soft and tender. He barely answered. American. 

But you saw each other again. And again. And again, on the same market. At some point, you wondered if he would come just to see you. One day, you invited him to your home. You didn’t think he would say yes, but he did.

You know his name. He’s hiding something dark, deep, and he’s got a shiny metal arm instead of a left human arm. All the rest of him is… normal. He’s quiet, quieter than should be comfortable, but you’re okay with it. And his presence in your home comes like a balm. Becomes a routine. He comes over once a week, you make him his favorite soup. He always looks tired.

Then, tonight, something shifted. You made a comment about his arms. His big fucking arms, because, God, he’s muscular and big, so much bigger than you. And you’ve wondered what it would be like to lose yourself in those arms, to have them wrapped around you as he fucked you into oblivion, until you forgot yourself.

You’re both in the living room, and Bucky is the first to reach forward, towards you. He’s careful in his motion, but firm, his body moving with a certain precision. Flesh hand, warm, wraps around your smaller right wrist and tugs you closer, until your bodies are practically touching. Every inch of him on every inch of you - almost.

His icy blue eyes trail over your features like he’s studying you, learning, memorizing. They are directly locked into your own eyes for a moment, holding your gaze, and you think you detect something behind that look, like he’s about to say something, but decides against it. Then his eyes are on your cheeks, taking in the pinkish tone on your skin, and then lower, on your lips. Plump, a little trembling, as if they are begging to be kissed. To be devoured by his own. You don’t need to ask it out loud. Bucky’s memories are scattered across the continents, but the look on your face - the want - that one he recognizes.

His body towers over yours and he starts to lean down, and you still catch the moment he starts to close his eyes. And then, a hairsbreadth later, his lips are pressing to yours. The kiss isn’t tender, isn’t sweet. You didn’t expect sweetness from him, anyway.

Bucky is hungry and he kisses you exactly like a man starving. When was the last time his lips were on someone else’s willingly? When was the last time he felt like his body really was his own? He’s not sure he remembers, but this, right here, your small, fragile body on his - it feels good.

Your lips move together, hard and hungry, and he tastes like alcohol and fruit and the mixture is strange on your tongue but not unpleasant. He licks over your lips, inviting himself into your mouth before his tongue slides past your lips and tastes all of you. His flesh hand is still holding on to your wrist, but when he kisses you like that you moan and instantly, his hand moves to grip your hip tight. Bucky holds you hard against his body, and already you feel the outline of his hard cock through his jeans. Your hips roll forward, teasing, seeking friction, and he makes a noise into your mouth which you swallow like it’s your own.

Bucky breaks the kiss for a moment to search for air, and he takes in the sight of your flustered face. He seems proud of the work he’s done, metal arm reaching up and craddling your cheek as his thumb rubs over the reddened skin.

“You’re beautiful.”, he says, and his voice is rough with desire. You open your mouth to say something, but Bucky catches your lips in another lustful kiss that leaves you breathless before you can get a word out. Then he’s pulling away again. “No, love. No speaking unless I ask you to.” His head lowers and you think he’s about to kiss you again but instead his head dips between your neck and your shoulder and he licks a strip across your neck. Then, his teeth are digging into the skin before he sucks it into his mouth and that elicits another moan from you. His hand on your hip tightens and he groans in disapproval. “No noises either, love. You don’t make a sound. Do you understand?” You’re a quick learner, because his question doesn’t receive a spoken answer. Instead, you simply nod, your body already slightly trembling under his hold. “Good. Such a good girl for me.”

His words bleed into your ears like acid, burning their way through every inch of your skin, crawling, a brand being placed upon you. Such a good girl for me. It echoes inside of you, and you can imagine that, many moons from now, those words will still be glued to you like they are a part of your core.

Bucky is still kissing your neck, and his teeth graze the skin ever so slightly a couple of times. He’s testing you, testing your restraint. And you provide nothing. Not a single sound, only your eyes rolling into the back of your head, back arching slightly into him. He’s hot and warm and built like a wall - firm, big, his muscles so big they completely crowd your every sense. There is so much of him. Standing tall and strong, the red henley strained against his arms as his muscles flex as he grips you tight. And your mind is spiraling, because you had to be blind to not notice how big he was, but now, this close, you feel so small in comparison, so breakable. And you are sure he could break you if he wanted to. You’re not entirely sure he isn’t doing that, right now, just in an entirely different way.

You almost mewl in disappointment when Bucky momentarily pulls away from you, but you don’t, and he takes notice. You’re being such a good girl, and he’s never been quite this turned on, even though you’ve barely done anything at all. Both his hands move to the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head before discarding it somewhere in the living room. Then he’s walking forward, and you walk backwards, and somehow, you end up with your back against the couch. Bucky is grinning at you. Not a full grin, no, but a delicious half-smile, confident he’s tearing you apart bit by bit. His eyes are skimming over your torso, landing on your black lacy bra and he can’t help but immediately move his flesh hand to massage one of your breasts, grabbing, the size of it perfect in his big palm. His thumb brushes the soft material of the bra to the side, just enough to free your hardened nipple and he plays with it between his fingers. 

You still don’t make a sound. God, it’s the hardest thing you’ve done all your life - not making a sound when he’s teasing you like this. But you’re a good girl. You can be good for him.

“Love-”, Bucky breathes and he kisses over the expanse of your chest. “Tell me how you’re feeling.” His voice isn’t demanding like the rest of his body is right now, but it’s rough enough to make it clear he needs an answer.

“So good.” 

*

A while later, you’re both naked, Bucky stroking your bare back with his fingers as you suck in a breath.

You are slightly bent over your couch, legs spread, and your arousal is slowly dripping down the inside of your thigh. Bucky catches some of it in his fingers and uses it to stroke his cock as he looks at you. 

What a sight to behold. You, spread out for him. Wanting, needing, not making a damn sound, like he asked you to. The imagery makes his cock twitch in his hand and he has to take a deep breath, slow his thoughts, otherwise he’d be gone before this even started. 

Bucky runs his metal hand over your hip, around the base of your back, so close to your ass, and his touch is reverent, like he physically needs to touch every inch of skin to make this perfect. Then, the tip of his cock is pressing against your folds, and the intrusion is most welcomed. Your hips roll back into him, and Bucky rests both hands on your hips to stop your movement.

“Don’t be greedy.”, he breathes, but in the next second he’s slowly sinking himself inside of you. His cock stretches you out and you grip the edges of the couch hard, so hard maybe you’ll leave nail marks afterwards, because it’s the only way you can stop yourself from making a sound. Sweat coats your body, and his, and his metal arm circles your waist, gently pressing against your stomach to keep you pressed tight to him as he sinks deeper, and deeper, until he’s fully seated inside of you.

Bucky groans and it’s the hottest sound you’ve ever heard in your life. He doesn’t remember any other feeling quite like the feeling of being buried so deep inside of you. Your pussy feels divine, wet and warm, gripping him like a vice. It feels like it’s singing to him, a goddamn siren song, and he will never be able to leave again. 

“Oh, fuck, love- so tight.”, Bucky says, half a whimper, and he gives one tentative thrust. And you feel it then - his body shaking against yours. “Tell me this feels good. Tell me you want this.” Bucky’s pleading, a small contrast to the way he’s handling you, and you let out a soft gasp you had been holding on.

“Please, Bucky, I want you. I want you so bad.”, you respond, and the arousal in your voice is confirmation enough that you’re not lying. “Please, your cock feels so fucking good-”

And then your sentence is interrupted, because Bucky slides his flesh arm around your neck, hard bicep wrapped around you as he pulls you flush to his chest. He uses his knee to lift one of your legs from behind, resting it against the back of the couch, and then he starts fucking into you, thrusts slow, hard, deep, his bicep pressed so hard around your neck that you feel almost light headed. The grip of his arm is not enough to take your breath away, but it is enough to hold you in place, to stop you from moving, from doing anything at all. Anything but moan for him. You’re not sure he wants you to right now, but you can’t really hold it back when his cock is buried so deep, hitting every sweet spot, his balls slapping against your ass in a slow, sensual rhythm that sends you flying.

“Bad girl.”, he moans into your ear, but he doesn’t make a move to stop, and instead, fucks you through it, a little harder, a little deeper. “Making noise when I told you to be quiet.”, he continues speaking, voice hoarse, but his hips don’t snap out of their rhythm, and so you still moan. One of your hands comes up from the back of the couch and you drag your nails over his large arm, the one wrapped around your neck, and his hips stutter for half a second. “Naughty. And I fucking love it.”

He angles his hips better, lifts your leg a little higher with his knee and then he’s changing the pace, his cock driving in and out of you a little faster. The noises coming out of you are pure filth, obscene, and you’re glad he isn’t asking you to be quiet now, because you don’t think you could. Bucky’s lips drop to your neck, and he kisses the soft skin as his metal fingers slide down your stomach and start rubbing circles around your clit in time with his thrusts. He feels you trembling in his arms and he tightens the arm around your neck, keeping you more in place.

“I’ve got you, love.”, he moans against your neck, and his metal hand doesn’t stop, his hips don’t stop and the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, along with your moans. “You’re so amazing. Could stay inside this tight pussy for hours.” Your body shudders against him, teeth digging into your bottom lip as his filthy praise makes his way into you. God, you want, need, more of this, more of him. 

But he has you pressed flush against his chest, against his body, and you’re his to take. He doesn’t let you move anything other than your arms, everything else in his total control. And you love it, you’d beg for it if he made you.

His metal fingers fasten the movements on your clit, and the cold metal feels perfect against the heat of your folds, so perfect. Your stomach feels tight, muscles coiled with the pressure of the orgasm that is building right in the back of your gut, spreading over your every limb, expanding and threatening to make a mess out of you. Bucky feels it, feels your walls clutching around his cock and it only spurs him on. His hips snap faster, fucking you with renewed vigor and his lips trail from your neck to your ear, whispering all the filthy things you seem to love.

“Gonna cum so hard inside this pretty pussy.”, he says and you whimper. He responds to that by thrusting particularly hard inside of you. “So good for me. My favorite girl. You gonna cum for me, love? Gonna cum all over my cock? Let me feel you.” 

Your arms are clawing at the bicep still tightly wrapped around your neck, not because you want him to move it but because you need to hold on to something as you come apart, in all senses of the word. “Bucky, I’m so close- please don’t stop.”

He wasn’t planning to. 

And shortly after, he tips you over the edge. You see white, your mouth opening to let out a strangled gasp as your orgasm washes over you and your whole body trembles against Bucky. He whispers soft praise into your ear as you cum, hold you through every spasm and moan, flush against his chest, and his hips don’t falter. He fucks you fast and hard and hot until you’re going limp in his body, and then he thrusts a couple more times, his rhythm broken, before he curses your name under his breath and spills himself inside of you, his seed filling your pussy to the brim. 

For another minute he just fucks lazily into you, like he’s just making sure no second of his or your orgasm go to waste. His arm around your neck loosens up and it seems like he’s about to move it completely out of the way, but you hold on to it. You feel his gaze on you, almost confused.

“Don’t move.” You ask, a little pleading. Your eyes are closed as you try to get your breathing back to normal. “Stay. For a while.”

He does.

For a while.

[nezuscribe]

imagine an arranged marriage with gojo. like he never wanted to be married in the first place, still in his prime of fucking around.

he doesn’t even know you. he’s heard your name before (who hasn’t) but he doesn’t want this, doesn’t want that gold ring on his finger.

but you’re elated, never been happier. you get a hot husband, away from your shitty family, and a bigger estate? yeah never been happier

gojo never comes down for meals, always finds his way to hide from you. in his mind, as long as he doesn’t see you, he can pretend he’s not married to a stranger.

but think about how one day he accidentally walks into the dining hall to see you there, still finishing up your dinner. it’s earlier than he usually goes, but now there’s nothing that could be done to hide the awkwardness in the air. he sees the way you’re trying to shove everything down to leave as quickly as possible.

but he eats dinner with you that night. the small talk is deadly and he feels his eyes twitching but you’re just glad to have spoken more than two words to this man you’re supposed to call a husband.

dinner together becomes a biweekly occurrence, and despite him not wanting to, gojo begins to look forward to them. he finds himself hiding his smiles at your stupid jokes, listening as you talk about your old life.

until one night he’s walking past your room he hears muted sniffles through the door, pausing to make sure he heard it correctly.

“he hates me,” your voice comes out muffled and shaky, “they told me he was o-okay with this…”

your maid hushes you, tells you not to worry about it, and he can still hear your little hiccups, the way you try to calm yourself down.

“…if i knew it was going to be like this i would’ve just agreed to marry that zenin…at least he would’ve told me to my face what i was doing wrong…”

gojo feels a part of him stir in jealously.

sure he didn’t want this marriage,

but he’s beginning to want you.

[sleepdeprivedfrfr]

nsfw! mdni!

dadbod!toji loves his family dearly, he's put aside his work, outside life, and his bad habits just for his family. He's put all his time and effort in taking care of you and your baby, but Toji didn't realize that keeping away from work for so long would get him so out of shape.

dadbod!toji who starts looking at himself in mirrors all around the house in disbelief, realizing that his abs are now enveloped by a soft puge.

dadbod!toji who you find in the bed room one day staring at himself in the mirror with no shirt on. His back muscles flexing as he flexed his abs and arms, then realizing you were watching him the whole time.

dadbod!toji who turns to look at you with a scowl, but it quickly turned into more of a perplexed look once he realized you were fully checking him out.

Your lip practically bleeding from how hard you were biting on it while your eyes were wandering down from his thick muscly neck, across his even bigger juicer pecks, and god his already huge biceps the size of a bears arm that somehow, grew even bigger.

"look at what ya did to me babe,"

"trust me Im looking."

"I need to get back in the fuckin gym"

dadbod!toji who notices your pout when he tells you that he wants to 'get back into shape'

"whyyy?"

"babe its getting ridiculous, you've been fattening me up with your cooking. this is your fault."

"aw my two babies are so adorable all chubby." you would reply while squishing your babies cheeks and earning a scoff from toji as he watched.

dadbod!toji who cant help but to be amused at how much more obsessed you have become with his body, but he'll pretend like he thinks you're just a weirdo.

dadbod!toji who chuckles to himself when you and your baby nuzzle up to him on the couch to watch a movie, just for the both of you to fall asleep in the first fifteen minuets of it starting, leaving Toji there wide awake.

Not that he minded, he wasn't even paying attention to the movie, he was more focused on the soft snores coming from you and the baby.

dadbod!toji who smiles to himself when he realizes that the baby sleeps way faster on his warm and soft chest.

dadbod!toji who finds you on the couch after putting the baby to bed and pulling you into his lap and kissing you passionately.

"toji what was that for?" You questioned with a small giggle.

"lets have another one."

"hm?"

"you heard me woman." you could practically hear the smirk on his lips as he pulled you into another deep kiss.

"toji what are are you-"

"I wanna get you pregnant again, make you a mama a second time. please." he held your chin gently, but the look in his eyes was anything but innocent.

"please make me a dad again." he said in between kisses.

"please baby."

dadbod!toji who has you on your back sprawled open on the couch, your legs bent over his shoulders as he pressed your thighs against your chest, pounding into you relentlessly.

His huge thighs slapping against the bottom of your ass as he rammed his thick cock into your pussy, he felt even bigger than before.

"t-toji I-i cant. its-its too much." you whine, tears of pleasure brimming your eyes, and gliding down your cheeks.

"shhh, its okay mama-fuck- you can take it. I know you can." he says as kisses away your tears, pounding into you harder than he ever has before.

you grab onto each of his biceps and squeeze as hard as you can, moaning out while his cock hits all the right spots, the pain never felt so good.

"toji, m'gonna-fuck! m'gonna cum!" you squeal out.

"cum with me baby. m'gonna fill you up so good ~plap~ get this belly~plap~ nice and round again hm? ~plap~ youre gonna look ~plap~ so beautiful ~plap~ with my kid inside you baby.~plap~ make me a daddy again."

dadbod!toji who admires you sound asleep on his chest, making a silent vow to himself to not lose the weight just yet.

I mean who else is gonna be your human maternity pillow?

another toji drabble/hc my period is making me fucking feral and horny so yuh, not proofread btw :p

divider creds: @cafekitsune

[blkkizzat]

Mess Up Your White Tee, I'll Eat You Dirty~ ♡

Otaku!Gojo x Bimbo!Reader~ ♡

𝐜𝐰: otaku!gojo—nuff said ♡ minor references to this thirst. 𝐰𝐜: 2670 𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐮!𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐦.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬: @buttercupblu143 for goated inspo & @yung-notorious for beta.

Otaku!gojo who has you tooted up, ass-naked on all fours—your knees planted at on the bed, titties squished into the mattress. Your feet dangling off the edge as your toes curl just like your spine—deeply in a mean arch.

Never failing to make you the star of his own hentai fantasies, of course Gojo loves to have you spread wide for him.

Both your asshole and pussy exposed, gaping on full display so your freakass otaku boyfriend can devour your pussy from the back like she's a refreshing bowl of kakigori on a hot summer day.

Although it's not like Gojo can enjoy the view when he's practically drowning himself in your cunny. His face obscenely drenched and dripping with your juices as he slurs deliriously into your gooey hole.

"Bunnn, s'gud—shiiii... s-she's mochi sweet~!"

Gojo's favorite lil' mochi ball, of course, being your clit. So cute and swollen, he makes sure to pay special attention to her as he takes his time savoring the texture of your sensitive flesh.

In between the suction of his sloppy puckered lips, Gojo's tongue peaks out to lap gently at her before swirling the tip across every nerve on your lewd bud. The tortuously euphoric sensations leaving you seeing stars as you've lost track on how many times you've cum thus far.

The results of Gojo's messy eating gush through your folds, ass and thighs as your slick and his spit reflects a glossy sheen that glows in the dim room when the first rays of early morning light pour in.

That's right—it's already morning.

Shiiit.

You'd lost count of how long he'd been at it when he said he needed a 'midnight snack'. Yet this is completely your own fault Bunny for telling Toru he could 'eat whatever he wanted, as long as he didn't get crumbs in the bed again.'

You didn't think the first thing he'd reach for would be you!

Nevermind that you felt like crumbling yourself—limbs frail like goo, you can't even run now. Utterly at this otaku freak's mercy and he didn't look like he was slowing down anytime soon.

"P-Please...s't-toru—hiccup—stawp, enough..."

But his perverted nonsensical coos for you to stay still make him sound like a weak and wounded animal—like the lil' freak actually thought he'd die if he didn't bury his face deeper into your quivering cunt.

The sound grips at your heartstrings and would almost have you feeling sympathetic for him if it wasn't for the contrast of Gojo's own swiney hands gripping onto your hips with unearthly strength, keeping you in place—making you feel more like the prey.

Truthfully you weren't going anywhere and no matter how pathetically helpless Gojo appeared, he'd always muster the most devout dedication to worshipping your body.

All you can do is brace yourself right now, biting down harder on the sheets. As a testament to that wet spot beneath you is bigger than your own face at this point. Evidence of how badly you've drooled and damn near chewed a hole through the custom 100% egyptian cotton digimon themed linen.

But it's times like these you were thankful your eyes spent more time in the back of your head then starring the cute cuddly Gatomon and Gammamon characters smiling back at you on the sheets—they were too innocent to be subjected to Toru's depravity, they—

—wait! The hell!? For that matter how come you even remember their names!? Urgh.

"O-One more... jusss' one more! P-Plwease, Bunny! My ecchi angel... blwess me with your holy pussy water jussst once more my pervy prwincess, I-I need it!"

Gojo's words have you both recoiling a mix of cringe and overstimulation as you feel him pull back briefly to spit a wad of fluids onto your plump sloppy pussy only to just as quickly slurp the suds back up again.

The wet, gurgling sounds of his lecherous gluttony echo in surround sound throughout the bedroom.

Yet despite all the shame and cringe the most overwhelming feeling is the disbelief that your body hadn't gone completely numb already—somehow you feel another orgasm building, relentless and inevitable.

God, something had to be equally as wrong with you for enjoying Toru's ecchi ways this much, not to mention, remembering the names of actual digimon on the sheets—Gojo's otaku influences would literally be the end of you...

Furthermore, you even don't know how Gojo's still going at this point!

Although you were making a big enough mess all yourself, you knew the sheets below your hips were not only stained with your creamy fluids but his own thick cum. A small puddle had formed on the completely saturated sheets as you couldn't keep track of how many times the lil' freak has cum—moaning obscenities into your pussy as he nuzzles your asshole down to your clit with his entire face.

All the while dick throbbing against the bed completely untouched each time.

He should have been tapped out from dehydration by now.

You had to do something to stop this seemingly never ending cycle—get him to fuck you somehow or something so your pussy could finally drain his completely balls dry and you could get some well earned sleep!

Like clockwork, upon another warm ejaculation spurts out to splash against your knees. The intensity of Gojo's throaty cries soften against your skin and you can feel gojo's insane grip on your cheeks loosening slightly.

Now is your chance before he recovers—you absolutely have to use this moment to turn things to your advantage!

Willing your body to cooperate, your arms are trembling as you push yourself upright. Torso rising while your legs slip further off the bed, towards the floor—seeking just enough leverage to turn around. You’re so focused, gathering the energy just to move a bit, you don’t even notice the sole of your foot brushing—ever so lightly and completely unintentional—right up against Gojo’s cock.

Immediately the raw sound that leaves him is sharp and guttural, a croaked moan straight from the depths of his chest as his eyes shoot open wide. Already hypersensitive and twitchy from release—not to mention delirious with lust from eating your coochie damn near off the bone all night—your foot is the last thing Gojo expects to feel in the moment.

Gojo’s sudden cry startles you, making you freeze mid-motion. The jolt steals your momentum, and before you can recover, your arms buckle beneath you—sending you crashing back down face-first into the sticky, aftermath of your own undoing.

But it's too late now... and before you know it Gojo grabs your ankles, repositioning you back into your arch as he pulls your feet up and together, slotting his thick, throbbing length between them.

Shit the feeling is almost painful.

Gojo forces his cock, still red and throbbing from just previously ejaculating to rub against the soft soles of your feet—fuck they are just too warm and welcoming to resist fucking into!

Any attempts to jerk away are even more futile than before in this position.

In fact, you're actually spurring him on.

You don't realize it, but the way your toes are squirming has them unintentionally fondling gojo's big breeder sack, already engorged as his more turned on than ever—full with his next creamy load ready to blow.

Gojo himself is in utter bliss.

He truly loves every inch of you—even if you are usually too ticklish and embarrassed to let him worship your feet for very long.

But this—your angelic, goddess-like hentai footies wrapped around his dick?

Amazing.

Phenomenal.

Revolutionary even!

In his mind Gojo deems it the best fucking sheath for his hard and leaky cock...well, third best other than your pretty mouth and perfect pussy of course!

Gojo thrust begin slow at first, the head of his cock sliding between your arches, his previous spilled release smearing across your skin like a filthy markings a dog would of his own territory.

God, why hadn't plotted to use your divine lil' feetsies as a onahole before!?

Well, Gojo suppose he has.

He's definitely rubbed his dick feverishly against the dakimakura image of you, which highlighted how cute and pretty your feet were, whenever you're away.

Gojo had made a custom printed pillow—one of many versions—decorated with the image his favorite shot from that absurdly over-the-top yet iconic photoshoot he somehow convinced you to do—ya know, the one where you actually let him dress you in his homemade Digimon TCG lingerie.

Those ultra rare and some one-of-a-kind cards sewn together with obsessive care with paper paste and dental floss adorned your kneeling body in the photo.

Heels tucked right beside your ass, feet bare and exposed as the only parts of your body were covered were clad in a scandalous collage of holographic Megas. One of your arms folded defensively under the shiny balconette-like-card-bra—the other behind you as your back arched just right looking over your shoulder at him with wide, uncertain eyes. The cards formed lingerie so epically scandalous it could both summon a digital monster and a nosebleed—and it surely had that effect for Gojo.

The very peak of 'ecchi cosplay couture', Gojo had nutted many times over the perfect image from the perfect memory of you looking both mortified and turned on—dressed like the final boss of his wet dreams and immortalized on a dakimakura he had made MANY prints of for when he inevitably dirtied one beyond repair.

But now? This?

Gojo doesn't think the dakimakura does the seductively silken feeling of your actual feet on his cock any justice—he's hooked like an addict now.

“F-Fuhhhck, B-Bunny bae, your feet feel s-s'gud, angel.”

Even with his cock melting between your footies, Gojo can't keep his face outta your cunt for long.

Only allowing you what seems like mere moments of reprieve before his tongue dives back right in. Licking, fucking and sucking it into your gummy hole like he’s trying to juice every last drop of pleasure from your peachy pussy. Your ass jiggles from your ankles jerking your legs back with every thrust of his hard cock pumping between your feets.

And despite your utter repulsion at the way your feet being so vulgarly violated—you're moaning, shamelessly writhing even at all the foreign sensations.

You're absolutely mortified—you think you are... at least you would be if the absolute perverted frenzy Gojo worked himself into wasn't affecting you as well. The once ticklish tingles that would have your recoiling are now amplifying the electricity you feel in your core and despite yourself you're sinking back into Gojo's face—much to his excitement.

No matter how hard you try not to be as turned on as you are, Gojo's pure otaku fueled depravity is too contagious.

You lose yourself and your senses melt in the sound of skin slicking and squelching as his long length slides along your skin.

So wet—so obscene—mingling with the slurps of his tongue still gorging on your cunt, working her overtime. You clench around his tongue, obediently giving him more and more of the creamy essence his flicks beckon forth.

In turn, Gojo's hips piston even faster now—his hot girth sliding through the tight tunnel of your feet he uses his palms to press even deeper around. The intense friction making him babble more delusional praises into your cunt.

"Ah-Ah-Ahhhh shiiiiiit my sweet perverted hentai queen's feet is g-gonna make me blow s'f-fucking hard—ya foot pussy gonna be a gud nasty girl for me n'take it all Bunny?!?!"

Gojo growls, his voice distorts into your pussy once more, the erotic hums building uncontrollable pressure in your belly as your final orgasm coils tight like a spring.

Likewise Gojo's length is thrashing wildly between your feet, the tip oozing precum with every thrust, as his balls slap roughly into your curled toes—he’s so close.

"C-Cumm, cum, cum, cum—ah, with m-me pwease pwincess, wuv you—all of you, pussy, feet, ass—HAH!"

More deranged than ever, you don't know how you can even understand his desperate muffled pleas and yet somehow your body does. Because just like that, you’re coming undone, your pussy spasming as pleasure wrecks through your body. Feet arching, constricting even more around his cock, milking him as he lets out the most pathetic whine of the night so far.

Gojo blunted nails dig around your ankles as his thrusts slow. His cum still somehow shooting out in thick, hot ropes, splattering across your soles all the way up to the back of your thighs, splashing down on the bed and floor.

Finally spent, Gojo pulls out, dragging you too him—he's trembling, you both are. Yet while he's deliriously giggling, your legs still twitch as you can still sense the phantom strokes of his tongue digging into your cunny. Your body still buzzing with the aftershocks of what seemed like non stop orgasms all night.

It's almost enough for you to want his cock up there for real now if every other muscle in your body wasn't screaming for rest, fearful he'd catch a second, no, fourth wind of the night.

Gojo mutters against your skin, his voice hoarse.

“You’re so so fucking perfect Bunny, m'so lucky to have a princess as pervy and nasty as you.”

Gojo softly peppers kisses on your neck but you ignore him as you hum in response.

Eyes shut—you're preoccupied. Your brain bargaining with your body on if and how you were going to manage to get up, at least long enough to grab the wet wipes from Gojo's desk and rip the nasty sheets off the bed.

"My Bunny-hime, don't worry about the mess, I'll buzz the maid—"

"NO!!"

Eyes flying open you immediately reject the offer. The last thing you wanted was to see any of the night shift maids who you suspect heard the symphony of lewd noises coming from the room all night—typically being close by in case they were ever needed.

You already have a hard time looking any of the staff of the Gojo residence in the manner. Even if they all seem perfectly "normalized" to the eccentric tastes of the family, what with routine maintenance of the sex dungeon and all. You don't see them bat and eye as they look completely normal, transporting baskets of sanitized sex toys or cleaning and dusting the expansive lewd museum of hentai figures.

"Mmm, n-no, Toru... I mean, its late, ah, I mean super early still! Don't bother them, just... let's just go sleep in a guest room hm? I just wanna cuddle."

You manage a small tight lipped smile in your exhaustion. You knew how much he loved sleeping in his own room, on his custom digimon sheets but you're hoping the promise of cuddling and softly caressing his undercut would be enough in his exhaustion to spare you the embarrassment.

"Kay! Whatever, you wish my ecchi angel!"

You sigh in relief as Gojo slips a t-shirt over you before he scoops you up princess time. His own arms are shaky with exhaustion but you feel comforted in the fact you know he'd sooner die then ever drop you. Also you are thrilled you didn't have to remind him anymore to at least cloth you before he tried to leave his room.

Burrowing your face in his chest you drift off as you feel his arms.

Otaku!gojo who smiles once more as he sees you drift off, placing a kiss to your forehead. His own thoughts drifting as he makes his way to one of the many Gojo estate guestrooms.

As much as he loves fucking your pussy, he wonders if you'd let him fuck other parts of your body now... like your armpit.

Oh! Oh! Maybe if he shibari tied your leg and thigh together he could fuck the crease of your thigh...

Gojo’s face lights up with excitement, eyes gleaming as he looks down, ready to ask what you’d think about that—only to find you fast asleep.

He chuckles softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. Yeah… he’d let you rest for now.

an: hopefully this lil throwaway oneshot can hold you otaku!gojo girlies off for a while 🩵🤭. i'm still working on the nursery p3 but i got a burst of inspo when i was told the gospel of forced footjobs while getting eaten out from the back. hsjdfbkjshdbfs. i think this one even out freaks the suguru footjob fic i did. btw, manga is 'oohata-san is my dream gyaru!' (there's an hentai coming soon i talk about that and link the preview here)

[tobeholyistobeempty]

almost immediately into dating, simon riley would buy you a gun.

probably a 9mm. matte black, no frills, utilitarian. nothing bigger than needed. comfortable enough to hug your palm, heavy enough to remind you of the implications of what you carry.

and really, it wouldn’t come as a surprise to you.

you knew he was a soldier, knew he kept closets full of gear and could disappear without a sound — appear the same way too. you knew how he moved, how his eyes never slowed until they met yours. knew there was something unsaid about his skill level, redacted parts he left out on purpose. but even above that — you knew the truth of him. under the mask, under the muscle, under the scars of his past. the boy who grew up with vigilance as his only defence. you know enough to know you don’t survive what simon has survived and come out normal.

you come out disciplined. dangerous. prepared.

simon doesn’t believe in luck. won’t leave his trust in the cavalry showin up in time when that’s already failed him many times before. simon doesn’t deal in safe.

he deals in preparation. for the worst. for even the most unlikely.

love comes in many forms. and maybe for simon it’s not candle lit dinners or couch cuddling movie nights (though of course you bribe him into those anyways. he’s never quite been able to say no to you) it’s making sure he does everything in his power to make you capable.

and he does it with all the patience he’s got to offer. there’s no expectation no pressure no timeline — god knows simon isn’t expecting you to become a super assassin overnight. he takes you out to some half-forgotten range an hour outta the city, tucked in nice between the pine and fog. sets up the targets and has you aim at them empty, watching the way you hold tension in your tendons. teaches you how to force it out through breath. how to work the weapon like an extension of yourself.

the rundown is quick and simple. caliber, kickback, magazine release. then he steps back and tells you to shoot.

you exhale the breath like he taught you and pull. when you miss, he nods once and says again. you go through three full mags and miss each one. it isn’t long before your palms burn as bad as your cheeks do with the humiliation of it — but it’s all forgotten when you land just a tap off the bullseye and simon walks over with his hands up.

“that’s how it starts, sweet’eart.” he murmurs, smirking against your mouth.

simon riley is a man of many talents, but his greatest achievement yet is loving you. and maybe it’s not always voiced by ‘i love you so much baby.’ — but instead it’s running you through drills around the crooked ikea furniture in your living room until the sun has set and the moon is out. or blindfolding you and telling you to unload and reload the mag. or leaving sticky notes with unlikely scenarios scattered around the house and quizzing you on your answers while youre cockdrunk against the counter.

you’ve learned his language by now. hes protective and realistic and a little bit cynical. but god does he make you feel alive for it.

you know by him teaching you how to use this gun it’s his way of saying i will do everything in my power to keep you alive because im in love with you and i wouldn’t survive a fuckin day if i lost you.

[sarasmh1]

Ever since you’d gotten pregnant by Nanami Kento,

________________________________________

You’ve gotten taken care of more than ever, physically, emotionally, mentally, by him. He’s taken care of you, while it when your throwing up and sick, need help with something, or if you just need someone to talk to, he’s there.

he takes care of you in many different ways, but your favorite is the feeling you get while he eats you out on the bed, legs over his shoulders while he slurps and licks your sweet juices up.

You don’t know what it was, but since you had gotten pregnant and your baby bump grew more, he became more clingy, and more horny than usual, at just the sight of you. Again, you didn’t know what it was, but you weren’t complaining.

You shuddered, your right hand finding its way to the bed sheet beside you, gripping it tightly. Kento’s tongue diving deep into your fragile, sensitive, wet hole. He’d swore you tasted sweeter since you got pregnant, and he was addicted to it. The idea and beauty of your motherhood turning him on heavily, and the fact that you were carrying his baby.

He ate you out like a man starved every single, not wasting a second of his skills to make you cry out his name and shudder , and whimper as he gave you pleasure with just his mouth. His hand would occasionally find its way to go caress your baby bump softly, as his eyes slightly fluttered shut, while his tongue circled around your clit.

“Kento.. you-.. mh..”

You groaned, tilting your head back into the pillow. He pulled away, looking up at you, his hands going back to hold your thighs. He took a small pillow nearby, putting it just under your stomach. He whispered, his deep voice could just catch your attention from miles away.

“honey.. is it okay if we do this..? Are you okay with it?”

He asked. He knew that having sex while pregnant was safe, since he was always very educated on pregnancy, periods, etc, but he just wanted to make sure that you were okay with it. And you nodded, not leaving any room for hesitation.

He slowly unbuttoned and removed his shirt, and you couldn’t help but trail your soft hands around his shoulders, biceps, chest and abs. You shuddered, as his big, veiny hands caressed your delicate thighs gently, squeezing them softly.

“You look so beautiful like this..”

Kento mumbled, but enough for you to hear.

He slowly took his cock in his hand, stroking it slowly. His dick inside you is what you’ve been longing for, atleast when you thought about sexual things like that. Since you had gotten pregnant, you guys hadn’t made love to eachother, and it made something inside you to grow bigger. A desperate feeling, a need for him. For him to just dick you down, and you didn’t care how he did it, but you needed it desperately.

You loved how you didn’t need to say anything to him about being careful. He already knew the drill, and would die before he’d ever willingly hurt you, especially when it’s like this.

He slowly spread your legs even more, as he adjusted himself between them. He placed his hands on your hips, bringing you closer with no hesitation. You were always turned on by his strength, and how easily he could manhandle you.

“You.. you’re so.. tight..”

He slowly and steadily pushed his tip in, your lips parting ever so slightly, looking up at him.

You whimpered softly, before feeling his big length slid inside of your tight, wet hole. And you full on gasped, tilting your head back , still trying your best to keep your eyes on him.

He spoke, slightly breathlessly. You whimpered.

Nontheless, you knew he’d take care of you even more delicately, and you’d be having the time of your life.

So ever since you’d gotten pregnant by Kento Nanami, he’d been taking care of you better than ever. And you loved that.

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