#layer up bb

[marshmallowloves]

Cici is anemic so she wears like a billion layers when she goes to the Polar Biome. it's great for keeping warm. not so much for other stuff

[thedilfdiaries]

sweet surrender

Clint x f!reader // 6k

summary: your sleazy boss convinces you to fuck in the break room to a shitty porn tape he rented

warnings: mdni, 18+, porn with minimal plot, sleazy!clint, daddy kink, oral f! and m! receiving, unprotected p in v, fucking at work, fucking to a porn video, reader has titties, edging, orgasm denial

notes: a big huge thank you to @itwasntimethatdidit40 for reading this and being the sweetest cheerleader and for making me a moodboard when I was going through this crisis I love you so very much, @milla-frenchy for reading and leaving me the best comments you are the sweetest bb <3 and a big thank you to @evolnoomym for reading this over too. You are all the best and I love you veryyyyy much. // ty @/darkissoulmybody on Pinterest for the clint pic <3

masterlist

The bell above the door jingles as you step into the dimly lit video store, the scent of old VHS cases and cigarette smoke lingering in the air. The neon glow from the ADULT SECTION sign flickers in the back, casting shadows over the rows of tapes Clint probably hasn’t dusted in a decade.

You spot him behind the counter, feet kicked up, flipping through a magazine like he’s got all the time in the world. His aviators rest low on his nose, and when he glances up at you, a slow smirk spreads across his face.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up.”

You roll your eyes, tossing your bag onto the counter. “I’m five minutes early.”

Clint shrugs, shutting the magazine with a lazy flick of his wrist. “Coulda fooled me. Felt like I was sittin’ here all alone for hours.”

“Tragic.”

“You have no idea.” He leans forward, elbows on the counter, eyes raking over you in that way that’s become annoyingly familiar. “Lucky for me, I’ve got entertainment.”

You don’t have to ask. You already know. Like clockwork, there’s a VHS case sitting right by the register, an X-rated title in bold, red letters across the front. He picks out one every damn week like it’s just part of his routine. Sometimes he even makes you ring it up for him, just to see if you’ll get flustered.

Clint taps the tape with two fingers. “Think this one’s gonna be good?”

You glance at it. Sweet Surrender. Jesus.

You arch a brow. “Didn’t take you for a romance guy.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Clint drawls, grinning like he’s got you right where he wants you. “I got layers.”

You scoff, moving past him to clock in. Clint watches you go, the heat of his gaze pressing into your back. It’s always like this—him looking, teasing, toeing the line just enough to make you wonder if he’d ever actually cross it.

You haven’t figured out yet if you’d let him.

The night drags on slowly, the hum of the old fluorescent lights blending with the occasional creak of the front door. A couple of regulars come and go, renting their usuals, nodding at Clint. You organize the counter, stock a few shelves, and pretend you don’t notice the way Clint always seems to be near.

At some point, you duck into the break room, craving a moment of quiet. The tiny space is cluttered—half-empty soda cans, an old couch that smells like dust, and a mini fridge stocked with questionable leftovers. You lean against the counter, letting out a slow breath.

And then Clint’s there, filling the doorway.

“Escapin’ from me already?” he muses, arms crossing over his broad chest.

You don’t look at him, reaching for the fridge instead. “Just needed a break from your endless charm.”

He chuckles, low and rough. “That so?”

You grab a soda, cracking it open. “Mhm.”

Clint takes another step closer, and this time, you feel it. The heat of him, the scent of cigarettes and cheap aftershave, the way his presence always seems bigger than it should be in a room this small.

"Y’know, sweetheart," he drawls, voice dipped in that slow, southern thing he does when he’s feeling extra cocky, "I don’t think you appreciate me enough."

You take a sip of your soda, deadpan. "So sad."

"That’s what I’m sayin’." He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "I’m here, night after night, keeping this fine establishment running—"

"You sit behind the counter and read Hustler."

"—And in return, do I get so much as a thank you?" He sighs, like he’s been personally victimized. "No, I do not."

You roll your eyes, setting your soda down with more force than necessary. "Thank you, Clint, for gracing this dump with your presence."

He smirks. "Anytime, sweetheart."

You turn to leave, but before you can, Clint starts talking.

"You ever get curious?" he asks, voice all low and knowing.

You frown. "About what?"

Clint taps the VHS tape in his hand. The one he brought into the break room with him. The one he’s now pushing into the old, busted TV set in the corner like this is the most normal thing in the world.

Your stomach drops. "Clint—"

The screen crackles to life. A grainy, oversaturated image flickers on—the unmistakable opening of Sweet Surrender, complete with cheesy saxophone music and a woman moaning through the static.

You stare at the TV. Then at Clint.

"What the fuck, dude?"

Clint just grins, sinking down onto the old couch like this is all one big joke. Like he planned for this reaction. He stretches out, legs spread wide, arm slung over the back like he owns the place.

Like he’s settling in.

"What?" He gestures lazily at the screen. "Figured we could do some, y’know, quality control."

You gape at him. "You did not just put on a fucking porno in the break room."

Clint shrugs, completely unbothered. "Looks like I did."

You’re about to cuss him out, maybe throw your soda at him, when he takes it a step further—because of course he does.

He pats the cushion beside him, smirking. "C’mon, sweetheart. Scared you might like it?"

You scoff, folding your arms tight across your chest. "Oh, fuck off, Clint."

But he just grins wider, eyes glinting. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

"That a no?" he drawls, tilting his head. "Shame. Thought we were friends."

You roll your eyes so hard it almost hurts. "Friends don’t put on softcore porn in the break room."

"Softcore?" Clint clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "Sweetheart, you wound me. You think I’d waste my time on soft anything?"

You open your mouth to fire back, but then a particularly loud, breathy moan cuts through the static, and you feel your face heats up.

Jesus Christ.

Clint watches you, eyes flicking between you and the screen like he’s waiting—hoping—to catch you slipping.

"Y’know," he muses, stretching his arms up behind his head, "you could just not watch. Seems like you’re thinkin’ about it awful hard, though."

You shake your head, biting back the urge to tell him to go to hell. "I’m not thinking about shit."

Clint hums like he doesn’t believe you, like he can see right through you. He stays lounging, legs spread, fingers drumming lazily against his thigh as he turns his attention back to the screen.

Another moan filters through the static.

You grab your soda gripping it tighter. "You’re disgusting."

"And yet, here you are. Still talkin’ to me."

You glare at him, turning for the door. "I have actual work to do."

But before you can take a step, Clint clicks his tongue. "Ah, ah, ah—why don’t you sit down, sweetheart?"

Your spine goes stiff. "What?"

He gestures to the empty space beside him. "Take a load off. Ain’t like we’re busy."

You scoff. "Not happening."

Clint exhales, long and slow, like this is just another inconvenience to him. Then, he says it.

"You sure? ‘Cause if you’re not in the mood to be a team player…" He lets the words hang, lazy and sharp at the same time. "I could always find someone else to cover your shifts."

Your stomach drops. "Are you—" You stop yourself, clenching your jaw. "Seriously?"

He grins, all teeth. "Dead serious."

Your pulse kicks up, anger boiling under your skin. "You’re gonna fire me—because I won’t watch your shitty porn with you?"

"Don’t be dramatic," Clint says, patting the cushion again. "Just tryna boost morale. You don’t wanna be a team player? That’s fine. I’ll just start lookin’ for someone who will."

You glare at him, every part of you screaming to tell him to fuck off, to storm out and never come back.

But rent is due. Your car needs gas. And Clint knows it.

You don’t sit right away. You stand there, arms locked tight, fighting every instinct telling you not to give him the satisfaction.

And Clint just sits there, watching, waiting for you to crack.

Finally, with a sharp inhale, you place your soda down again and drop onto the couch beside him, arms still crossed.

He chuckles low, tilting his head toward you. "See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?"

Your jaw is clenched so tight it aches. "Go to hell, Clint."

Clint just smirks. "Darlin’, I’m already there. Might as well enjoy the view."

Clint spreads his legs enough to make sure you notice. His arm drapes across the back, fingers barely grazing your shoulder, like he’s settling in with you. Like this is comfortable.

For him, anyway.

For you, it’s fucking not.

"Ain’t too bad, huh?" he murmurs, voice all slow and smug.

You fix your gaze on the TV, jaw clenched. "Shut up."

But Clint isn’t the type to shut up.

He watches you instead of the screen, studying the stiff set of your shoulders, the way your arms stay locked tight across your chest. Like you think you can make yourself smaller. Like you think you can ignore him.

But he’s relentless.

He leans in, breath warm against your ear. "Relax, sweetheart. You act like I just asked you to do somethin’ real dirty."

You whip your head toward him, scowling. "This is dirty."

He grins, slow and lazy. "Yeah?" His gaze dips lower, raking over you in a way that makes your skin prickle. "Ain’t even touched you yet."

Fucking hell.

You snap your head back toward the TV, desperate to look anywhere else. The scene playing out is typical cheap VHS smut—bad lighting, a low-budget set, and a woman fake moaning as some guy runs his hands all over her. They’re both already naked, sprawled across a tacky, leopard-print couch that looks stiff and uncomfortable. Her curls bounce as she arches exaggeratedly, lips parted in an over-the-top gasp.  

“Mmm, yeah, just like that,” she purrs, dragging her nails lightly down his back, though the gesture looks more like a routine than genuine pleasure.  

The guy—tan lines stark against his skin, hair slicked back with too much gel—grunts, his expression unfocused. “You like that?” His voice is low, but the words sound hollow, like he’s said them a hundred times before.  

She lets out another moan, forced, too high-pitched to be real. The camera lingers on his hands moving over her, on the way she spreads her legs obligingly, even as her expression flickers—boredom creeping in beneath the act. The whole thing feels mechanical, like they’re just going through the motions, a loop they’ve rehearsed a hundred times before.

“God, you feel so good,” she sighs, her voice sweet, syrupy, and just a little too rehearsed.  

The man doesn’t respond, just keeps moving, his rhythm unchanged, like he’s punching a clock. The camera zooms in slightly, grainy and unflattering, the colors oversaturated in that distinct VHS way. It’s all so obvious—cheap, impersonal, bodies going through the motions for the sake of getting paid.

And yet, you can’t quite look away.  

Clint hums, tapping his fingers against the couch. "Gotta say, Sweet Surrender ain’t half bad. Got a nice lil’ build-up to it."

You exhale sharply, your patience hanging by a thread. "Do you ever stop talking?"

Clint just chuckles, low and amused. "Not when I’m enjoyin’ myself."

And then—he sprawls out even more, shifting so his knee knocks against yours.

You jerk away. "Clint—"

"What?" He feigns innocence, head tilting. "Ain’t my fault there's not much room on this ratty ol’ couch."

Your hands ball into fists in your lap. "You’re the one who told me to sit here."

He grins again, wolfish and filthy. "And lucky for you, I’m real good at sharin’."

You’re about to snap, about to say something vicious—but then his fingers brush your thigh. Just a ghost of a touch, casual as anything, but pointed.

Deliberate.

Your breath catches, and he notices.

His smirk deepens, voice dropping lower. "Aw, sweetheart. You nervous?"

You swallow hard, forcing your body to stay still. "No."

Clint tsks, shaking his head. "Liar."

And then, the fucker has the nerve to nudge his knee against yours again, slow and deliberate, his fingers tap a lazy rhythm against your thigh.

"You sit here actin’ all stiff, like you don’t wanna be here," he murmurs, his voice damn near silky. "But you haven't left yet."

Your nails dig into your palms. "Because you threatened to fire me."

Clint just grins. "Uh-huh." He leans in again, voice dipping into something rougher. "That the only reason?"

Your heart slams against your chest.

You should get up. Should shove him away, tell him to fuck off, storm out and let him deal with this shitty store all by himself.

But your legs won’t move. Your body won’t move.

And Clint? He just keeps watching you, looking at you like he’s already won.

Like he knows something you don’t.

His smirk turns downright predatory, all lazy amusement and smug satisfaction. "See," he drawls, fingers still moving up your thigh, "you talk a big game, sweetheart, but you like this, don’t you?"

You inhale sharply, turning your head to glare at him. "I do not—"

He chuckles, slow and deep. "Mmm.”

His hand drags a little higher, not quite a grope, but enough to feel. Enough to let you know he’s testing you, waiting for you to stop him.

You should stop him.

But your body betrays you, staying right there, locked in place, heat curling in your stomach in a way you hate.

Clint grins like he can taste your hesitation. "See? Ain’t so bad, am I?"

You grit your teeth, trying to keep your voice steady. "You’re a fucking creep."

He hums, unconcerned. "Maybe." 

The TV hums in the background, the flickering glow casting shadows across his face. Another moan filters through the static, obscene and drawn out.

And Clint? He doesn’t look at the screen.

He looks at you and winks.

"Y’know," he muses, voice all slow and smug, "coulda left five minutes ago. Could leave now." His fingers press a little firmer, teasing the edge of your inner thigh. "But you won’t."

Your breath shudders, hands curling into fists.

His lips twitch. "So, tell me, sweetheart. You gonna sit here, act all mad, or you gonna do what we both know you wanna do?"

Your whole body is burning—rage, humiliation, something else you refuse to name.

You need to leave.

And Clint fucking knows it.

His smirk deepens, hand creeping higher, his voice dipping into something rougher, darker. 

"That’s my girl."

Your whole body is wound tight, muscles locked, breath shallow.

And that’s when he knows he’s got you.

His smirk turns downright wicked. "C’mon, sweetheart," he murmurs, tilting his head toward his lap. "Why don’t you get a little more comfortable?"

Your breath catches. "Excuse me?"

Clint just pats his thigh, lazy and casual like he’s offering you the comfiest seat in the house. "Ain’t gonna bite. Unless, y’know, you ask real nice."

You should slap him.

He leans in a little more, breath warm against your ear. "I ain’t making you do nothing, doll," he says, slow and deliberate. "You wanna leave? Walk. But you stay sitting here, pretending like you don’t want it? Now that’s just wastin’ both our time."

Your stomach twists, heat coiling low. "You’re so fucking full of yourself."

Clint chuckles, dark and knowing. "Yeah? You ain't gotta pretend you don't like it.” 

You hate that he’s right.

Hate that your thighs press together, that your breath is shaky.

You inhale sharply.

Then, slowly, finally—you move.

You shift, hesitating for just a second before you swing your leg over and settle onto his lap.

His hands immediately slide to your hips, gripping firm, like he’s been waiting for this all goddamn night.

"Atta girl," he murmurs, voice all rough approval. His hands flex on your hips, warm and steady, holding you like he’s got all the time in the world. Like he knew you’d end up here eventually. You hate how he leans back just enough to take you in, like he’s already imagining exactly how this is gonna go.

You glare down at him. "Wipe that look off your face."

His smirk only deepens. "What look?"

You don’t answer, because if you do, your voice might shake. Might give something away. Instead, you grab the collar of his cheap button-up, fisting it tight like you’re considering shoving him away. He doesn’t look concerned. If anything, he looks even more pleased.

"Feisty," he murmurs, voice thick with amusement. "Always figured you had a little fight in ya."

You roll your eyes. And then you do it.

You yank him in and crash your mouth against his, all heat and frustration, and fuck you wrapped up in a kiss. Clint makes a sound—low, satisfied, almost like he’d been daring you to do it. His hands tighten, fingers digging in, and then he’s kissing you back, deep and consuming, dragging you under like he owns you.

It’s messy, all clashing teeth and the faint taste of cheap beer and cigarettes on his tongue, but fuck, it’s good. Too good. His hands slide up your sides, rough and sure, thumbs brushing beneath the hem of your shirt, teasing warm skin. You arch into it without thinking, and that’s all the invitation Clint needs—he groans, low in his throat, and suddenly you're moving, flipped onto your back before you can blink.

"Fucking finally," he mutters against your mouth, hands already pushing up your shirt.

You barely have time to register the old couch beneath you before Clint is on you, pressing you down, pinning you like he’s been waiting forever for this moment. His weight is solid, and grounding, and when he dips his head, dragging his lips down the side of your neck, you barely bite back a sound.

"Damn, you smell good," he rasps, voice thick, rough like gravel. "Been driving me fuckin’ crazy for weeks."

Your breath stutters as his teeth scrape over your pulse, the heat of his mouth making your head swim. You should say something, throw one last smartass remark his way—but then his hands are everywhere, tugging your shirt up, palming greedily over your ribs, thumbs teasing just beneath the edge of your bra.  

"You gonna help me out here?" he drawls, mouthing along your jaw. "Or you just gonna lay there all pretty and let me do all the work?"  

His voice is thick with something dark and amused, but there’s a heat behind it that makes your stomach tighten. You lift your arms, giving him exactly what he wants, and he wastes no time pulling your shirt over your head. The cool air hits your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake, but it's nothing compared to the warmth of his hands as they slide over your bare shoulders, and down your sides. Your bra follows, unhooked with practiced ease, and he groans as he takes you in—eyes dark, hands already reaching.  

"Look at you," he murmurs, brushing his thumbs over your nipples, watching the way they pebble under his touch. "Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen."  

Then he dips down, mouth hot and eager, dragging wet kisses along the swell of your breast before he takes one into his mouth. His tongue is slow, deliberate, circling, flicking, while one of his hands kneads the other, squeezing just enough to make you gasp.  

He hums against your skin, lips dragging lower before he sucks at the sensitive underside, teeth grazing just enough to make you arch into him.  

"That feel good, sweetheart?" he murmurs, voice rough, breath warm against your skin. His other hand rolls your nipple between his fingers, teasing, making you whimper. "Bet you like being taken care of, don't you?”

You let out a shaky breath, head tilting back as heat coils low in your belly. His mouth is everywhere—kissing, sucking, teasing—turning you pliant under him. His words send a shiver down your spine, and you barely realize you’re nodding before your lips part to speak.  

"Yeah," you admit, voice soft, a little breathless. "I— I like it."  

Clint hums against your skin, dragging his teeth along the curve of your breast. "Yeah, I bet you do," he murmurs, fingers rolling your nipple, teasing, making you whimper. "Bet no one's ever really taken care of you before, huh? Not like this." His voice is all gravel and heat, thick with certainty. "Not by a real man.”  

Your breath stutters, your fingers twitching where they rest against the couch. The way he’s looking at you—hungry, possessive, like he already knows the answer—makes your pulse race.

"S’okay, sweetheart," he soothes, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss between your breasts. "Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you."

Before you can even process the rush of heat his words send through you, Clint just grins, teeth flashing, and suddenly his hands are on yours, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head in one quick, easy motion.

You open your mouth—to argue, to tell him he’s full of shit—but then he grinds himself against you, and whatever insult you were about to spit out melts into a choked-off gasp.

Clint’s breath is hot against your skin as he leans over you, the flickering light of the TV casting a sinful glow over his face. The low, breathy moans from the video playing beside him fill the cramped break room, mixing with the sound of your own unsteady breathing. His grip on your wrists is firm, keeping you pinned as his hips press hard against yours, the thick outline of his cock grinding insistently where you need him most.

“You hear that? You sound even prettier than she does.”

You bite back a whimper, but he catches it anyway, grinning like the devil himself. His free hand slips under your pants, between your thighs, fingers stroking over the damp fabric of your panties, slow and teasing. The woman on the screen lets out a desperate little cry as the man behind her fucks into her deep, and Clint groans low in his throat.

“Fuck,” he rasps. “You wanna try it?”

Your breath stutters. “What?”

His teeth scrape over your jaw, fingers curling tighter around your wrists as his other hand slides beneath your waistband, fingers dipping into your slick heat. “The way he’s got her. Bent over that couch, takin’ it like a good girl.” He drags his fingers under your panties and through your wetness, teasing, torturing. “Bet you’d look real pretty like that.”

A shiver runs through you, half defiance, half raw, burning need. “And if I say no?”

Clint chuckles, a dark, knowing sound as he draws his fingers out of you, lifting them to his lips to suck them clean, eyes locked on yours the entire time. “Then I’ll just have to fuck you right here, just like this.” His hips press harder, the thick length of him straining against his jeans. “Either way, you’re gettin’ wrecked, sweetheart.”

Your pulse pounds in your ears, breath shallow as you glance at the screen—at the way the man’s hands are gripping the woman’s waist, pulling her back onto him, the obscene sounds of slick skin meeting skin filling the air. Clint’s watching too, tongue swiping across his bottom lip like he can already taste the way you’ll come apart for him.

“Tell daddy what you need,” he orders, voice rough, commanding. “Tell him how you wanna be fucked.”

Your pride wars with your arousal, but the heat in his eyes, the way he’s holding you down, leaves you with only one answer.

“Like that.” Your voice is breathless, shaky, but firm. “Fuck me like that.”

Clint exhales a low chuckle, fingers tightening on your wrists. “Yeah? Knew you had it in you, baby. Knew you’d give in.” His voice is smug, dripping with satisfaction as he leans in, breath hot against your ear. “Say it again. But sweeter this time.” His lips brush your jaw, teasing. “Come on, princess. Call me daddy like you fuckin’ mean it.”

Heat prickles down your spine, your body betraying you as a shiver rolls through you. You grit your teeth, but the way he’s looking at you—like he owns you, like you’re already his—makes resistance feel impossible.

“Fuck me like that… Daddy.”

His eyes darken, his cock twitching against his jeans. “That’s my good girl.”

In one swift movement, he releases your wrists, flipping you onto your stomach against the couch. The cushions sink beneath you as Clint tugs your pants and underwear down in one rough motion, his large hands knead at your ass before delivering a sharp slap that makes you gasp. “Goddamn, look at that,” he groans, spreading you open with both hands, his thumbs pressing into your skin. “Can’t wait to see this pretty ass bounce on my cock—gonna make you work for it, baby.” he groans, palming himself through his jeans before undoing his belt. 

He tugs the leather free with one sharp pull, letting it drop to the floor with a heavy thud. Then he slides a hand down between your thighs, his fingers spreading you open even further.

“And look at this pretty pussy,” he murmurs, his voice thick with hunger. “Fuck, baby, she’s already so wet for daddy.” He drags a finger through your slick folds, slow and teasing, before bringing it to his mouth. His groan is low, filthy, as he sucks your taste from his fingers.

“Sweet as fuck,” he mutters, gripping your hips, dragging you back toward him. He leans in and his tongue flicks out, tasting you properly this time. His groan vibrates against you as he licks a slow, wet stripe up your cunt, his hands gripping your ass hard enough to leave marks.

“Mmm,” he hums, licking his lips. “Gonna make a fuckin’ mess outta you.”

He leans back, and the sound of his zipper sends a fresh wave of arousal through you, your body humming with anticipation. He doesn’t waste any time, shoving his jeans down over his hips, kicking them off completely along with his boxers. His cock stands thick and heavy, already leaking at the tip as he wraps a hand around the base, giving himself a slow stroke while his other hand spreads you open again.

“Look at you,” he mutters, dragging the head of his cock through your slick folds, teasing, making you squirm. “Just like in the video, huh?” He presses in just enough to drive you insane before pulling back, smirking when you whine.

“You ready, sweetheart?” he taunts, rubbing the tip against your clit, making you jerk. “Gonna make a nice mess for me?”

Please,” you breathe, your voice barely more than a whine.

He stills, his grip on your hips tightening. “Please what, baby?” His voice is smug, low, full of satisfaction as he waits, knowing exactly what he wants to hear.

You bite your lip, pride warring with need—but the way he’s holding you, the way he’s teasing you, makes it impossible to resist.

“Please, daddy,” you whisper.

Clint groans, his cock twitching against you. And then he’s sliding into you, slow but deep, stretching you open until you’re gasping. His hands grip your hips tight as he bottoms out, his head falling forward with a low, guttural moan. “Oh baby, she feels good,” he grits out. “Takin’ daddy so damn good, like you were made just for me.”

The video is still playing, the sounds of pleasure in the background spurring him on as he starts to move. His pace is steady at first, measured, but you don’t want slow—you want exactly what he promised. You want to be fucked like the woman on the screen, raw and dirty and desperate.

“Harder,” you gasp.

Clint growls, snapping his hips forward with a punishing thrust that knocks the air from your lungs. His fingers dig into your hips as he sets a brutal pace, the slap of skin against skin echoing in the tiny room. The couch creaks beneath you, but you barely notice—your body is burning, strung tight, every thrust sending sparks of pleasure racing up your spine.

His grip tightens as he leans in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Look up, sweetheart,” he rasps, voice dark and commanding. “Look at the TV.”

Your dazed eyes flutter open, and the sight in front of you makes your breath hitch. On the screen, a woman is getting absolutely wrecked, her body bouncing with every deep, relentless thrust. Clint moans at the way your gaze locks onto it, his fingers move to your neck and tighten around your throat just enough to make your pulse race.

“See that?” he murmurs, thrusting harder, deeper, making your body jolt with each snap of his hips. “She looks so pretty takin’ it—just like you.” His hand slides down to your chest, squeezing rough, fingers rolling your nipple.. “Look at how her tits bounce, baby. Just like yours. Fuckin’ perfect.”

You whimper, your back arching into his touch, heat pooling deep in your stomach.

Clint’s grip moves from your throat to your jaw, tilting your head back so you can’t look anywhere but the TV. “Bet you like watchin’ it, don’t you?” he taunts, voice thick with sin. “Bet you love seein’ how good she takes it while I fuck you just the same.”

A deep, broken moan rips from your throat, your nails clawing at the couch as pleasure coils tight, ready to snap.

Clint groans, hips stuttering as he watches your body shudder beneath him. “Shit, you’re squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight. You gonna come for me, sweetheart? Gonna let daddy wreck you just like that?”

You let out a choked-off whimper as the scene on the TV shifts—the man shoving the woman onto her back, spreading her wide before diving between her legs. Clint watches, his breath going ragged, and then his dark eyes flick back to you.

“Mmmm.” he murmurs, dragging his fingers down your trembling body. “Bet you want that too, huh?”

You don’t even get the chance to answer before he moves, gripping your thighs and yanking you to the edge of the couch. The sudden motion has you gasping, but Clint just grins as he kneels between your legs.

“Keep watchin’,” he orders, voice low and rough.

Then his mouth is on you, hot and wet and devastating. His tongue drags over your clit in slow, deliberate circles, teasing, making you squirm. You grip his hair, tugging hard, but Clint just groans, sucking harder in retaliation.

“Look at you,” he mutters against your skin. “drooling for me. You like this, don’t you? Bein’ my plaything while we watch?”

The only response you can manage is a desperate, breathless moan.

Clint chuckles, the vibration making you shudder. He glances up at the screen, where the woman’s back is arching, her hands gripping the couch as the man devours her. Clint growls and follows suit, wrapping his hands tight around your thighs and burying his face between them, licking and sucking you deep, messy, like he’s starving.

“That’s it,” he groans, his voice muffled against you. “Lemme hear those pretty little sounds, sweetheart. Show me who does it better—me or him?”

Clint groans against you, his tongue flicking faster, rougher, his fingers digging into your thighs as he devours you like he’s got something to prove. The filthy, wet sounds of his mouth on you mix with the moans from the TV, the whole thing makes your head spin.

You’re so close—right on the edge, your body tensing, ready to snap—when suddenly, Clint pulls away. You whine at the loss, your hips bucking up instinctively, but he just grins, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he coos. “You’ll get to come—just not yet.”

You barely have time to catch your breath before he’s gripping your wrist, pulling you up off the couch and onto your knees in front of him. His cock is right there, flushed, thick, slick at the tip from how worked up he is. He fists himself lazily, giving it a slow stroke as he watches you, his other hand brushing through your hair.

“Open up, baby,” he murmurs, tapping the head of his cock against your lips. “Wanna feel that pretty mouth on me.”

You part your lips, letting your tongue flick over the tip, and Clint groans, his fingers tightening in your hair.

“That’s it,” he breathes. “Goddamn, you look so fuckin’ pretty like this.” His hips jerk slightly as you take him deeper, your tongue dragging along the thick vein on the underside. “Knew you’d be good for me. Knew you’d suck Daddy’s cock like a fuckin’ dream.”

He tilts your head up, making you look at him as you hollow your cheeks, taking more of him. His jaw clenches, a dark look flashing in his eyes. “Fuck, baby—look at you,” he groans. “So fuckin’ eager. You like it, don’t you? Like being on your knees for me, takin’ Daddy’s cock like a good little thing?”

You hum around him, the vibration making him curse under his breath. His grip tightens in your hair, guiding your pace, making you take him deeper. You relax your throat, letting him use you, and the sound he makes is downright filthy.

“Shit, baby,” he grits out, his abs tightening as he thrusts a little deeper, a little rougher. “Gonna fuck this pretty mouth—gonna come down your throat.”

His other hand cups your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek, feeling how full your mouth is. “You’re gonna swallow every drop, ain’tcha, sweetheart?” His voice is rough, almost desperate now. “Gonna take it all like the good girl you are.”

His pace stutters, his hips jerking as his breathing goes ragged. “Fuck, fuck, that’s it—look at you, so perfect for me—”

With a deep, wrecked groan, he comes, spilling hot and thick down your throat, his fingers gripping your hair tight as he holds you there. You swallow around him, taking every drop just like he told you, and the way his body shudders from it sends another pulse of heat straight to your core.

When he finally pulls back, his thumb swipes across your bottom lip, gathering the last drop of his release before pressing it against your tongue.

You swirl your tongue around his thumb, sucking it into your mouth just to tease him, hoping he’ll get the hint—hoping he’ll finally give you what you need. But instead of pulling you back onto the couch, instead of touching you the way you’re aching for, Clint just chuckles, leaning back against the cushions with a lazy, satisfied grin.

Your brows furrow as you shift on your knees, the dull throb of your own arousal making you restless. “What the fuck?” you snap, your voice breathless and frustrated.

Clint sighs, stretching his arms behind his head like he’s already settling in for the night. “Sorry, baby,” he drawls, his tone dripping with smug amusement. “Daddy’s tired.”

Your mouth drops open in disbelief. “You’re kidding me.”

He smirks, reaching down to tuck himself back into his jeans before grabbing a nearby tissue to wipe his hand. “Nope.” His gaze flicks over your flushed, trembling body, your thighs still pressed together, desperate for friction. He lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Damn, look at you—so fuckin’ needy.”

You glare at him, gripping his knee, half tempted to crawl onto his lap and take what you need yourself. “Clint—”

But he just tuts, wagging a finger at you. “Uh-uh. Don’t be such a fuckin’ brat about it.” He reaches forward, tilting your chin up so you’re looking at him, his smirk deepening. “Tell you what, sweetheart—bring me another tape tomorrow. Somethin’ real dirty.” He runs his thumb over your bottom lip again, grinning when you shiver. “Then maybe—maybe—Daddy’ll let you come.”

Your breath hitches, your thighs clenching together involuntarily.

“Better be a good one,” he murmurs. “Now be a good girl and clean up, yeah?”

npt to those interested in the wips: @yxtkiwiyxt @baronessvonglitter @mushgloomz @arcanefox207 @gothcsz @probablyreadinsmut @iknowisoundcrazy @almostfoxglove @sawymredfox @whocaresstillthelouvre @myownwholewildworld @ace-turned-confused @jokesonthem

[heeluvv]

sunoo showing his members that he’s not just a subby boy .. 💭

lowkey didn’t know how i wanted to play this out but i did it this way and im not mad at it so i hope you like it bb

SUBBY.ᐟ

pairing ᝰ.ᐟ bsf/close friend! kim sunoo x reader

warnings ᝰ.ᐟ oral (f), unprotected sex, fingering, soft!dom sunoo, teasing, etc.

natty’s notes ᝰ.ᐟ mdni, hate comments will be deleted.

the room buzzed with laughter, the warm glow of the living room lights casting a cozy atmosphere over your small gathering. the idea of going out had been quickly shut down by your friends, who whined about the hassle and convinced you to just stay in. you didn’t mind—it was nice having them over, sprawled across your couch and floor, snacking on whatever was in your kitchen while exchanging playful banter. the energy was lighthearted, filled with inside jokes and teasing remarks that never failed to keep the mood alive.

amidst the usual chatter, a certain conversation piqued your interest—who among you was the most dominant? it started as a joke, with everyone throwing names into the mix, ranking each other based on their supposed presence and personality. unsurprisingly, sunoo kept ending up at the bottom of the list, a fact that only fueled the amusement of the group.

“you guys really think i’m not dominant enough?” sunoo scoffed, crossing his arms as he scanned everyone with a sharp gaze, his brows lifting in challenge.

“you just seem more like a submissive, sunoo,” you said casually, your voice laced with amusement as the others quickly nodded in agreement.

a brief silence followed before he clicked his tongue, an unreadable smirk playing on his lips. “you guys have no idea what you’re talking about,” he muttered, shaking his head.

the laughter only grew louder.

“i mean, we aren’t lying, sunoo. every time y/n gives you even the slightest compliment, you get so flustered,” jake teased, a smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned back against the couch. “only submissive like to be called good boy…”

his words sent a ripple of laughter through the group, their amusement only growing as sunoo’s expression shifted. but he wasn’t embarrassed, nor was he angry. no—he saw this as a challenge.

his posture straightened, and the playful glint in his eyes darkened into something more serious. “you want me to prove it to you all?” his voice was smooth, almost daring, his confidence oozing through the sudden change in demeanor.

the room fell into a brief silence, the shift in his energy palpable. your eyes widened at the sheer duality, the effortless way he transitioned from lighthearted banter to something almost intimidating. it sent an unexpected chill down your spine.

jungwon, breaking the silence, tilted his head curiously. “i mean… how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

he glanced at the others for backup, but instead of answering, they simply exchanged amused looks before turning their attention toward you.

your breath hitched. why were they looking at you?

it was no secret that you felt completely at ease around them. there was an unspoken comfort in their presence, a familiarity that blurred the lines of personal space. you had never been the type to overthink things—changing in front of them felt natural, effortless, something you never put much thought into. it wasn’t like you were trying to make a statement; it was just how things were.

when you were home alone, the idea of throwing on extra layers felt unnecessary. walking around in just an oversized shirt, barely caring whether you had pants on, was second nature. so when they showed up unannounced—something they did often—you never felt the need to scramble for modesty. they had seen you like this before, countless times, and it had never been an issue.

but there was something about those fleeting moments that felt different. you weren’t oblivious—you noticed the way their gazes lingered, the way conversations would momentarily stall when you stretched or adjusted your clothes absentmindedly. they never said anything, never crossed a boundary, yet there was an undeniable weight in the air whenever it happened.

you never initiated anything, and neither did they. it was a silent understanding, an unspoken game where the tension simmered just beneath the surface. yet, even when their eyes betrayed their thoughts, you simply carried on as you always did—pretending not to notice, even though you always did.

“what?”

the single word left your lips before you could stop it, your voice laced with confusion, yet there was something else lurking beneath it—curiosity. this had caught you completely off guard. they were actually trying to initiate something now, and all for the sake of proving a point.

but was that really all it was?

a part of you should have been skeptical, maybe even hesitant. yet, deep down, you didn’t mind. because as much as you were aware of their lingering stares—the way their eyes would subtly (or sometimes not so subtly) trace the shape of your body in moments like these—you were equally guilty. maybe you hadn’t realized it at first, or maybe you had and just pretended otherwise, but the truth was undeniable.

your own gaze had a habit of betraying you. the way your eyes fixated a little too long on their lips when they spoke, how your focus would drift to the veins on their hands as they flexed absentmindedly. and then there were the times they stayed over, disappearing into the bathroom only to reemerge, steam still clinging to their skin, towel slung dangerously low on their hips, droplets of water trailing down their bare torso.

you told yourself it was nothing, just fleeting glances, harmless observations. but they noticed. every single time.

you weren’t the only one watching.

“i think you know what, y/n…” sunoo’s voice was smooth, deliberate, as he leaned back against the couch. the confidence in his posture was undeniable—his legs spread wider, his hands resting lazily on his thighs, fingers drumming against the fabric as he studied you. his gaze held something unreadable, something daring. “but of course… only if you let me.”

your breath hitched, your mind racing with endless possibilities. was this a mistake? would this change everything between you all? would it create distance or pull you even closer? the weight of uncertainty pressed against your chest, but despite all the questions, there was one undeniable truth—you wanted to know.

it was reckless, maybe even dangerous, but you couldn’t help the way curiosity clawed at you, the way something deep inside you itched for the answer. was it wrong to entertain these thoughts? perhaps. but could you really fault yourself for being human?

and then there was sunoo himself. was he truly as submissive as everyone assumed? or was this his way of proving you all wrong?

your throat felt dry as you swallowed down the lingering hesitation, your heart hammering in anticipation.

“o-okay…” you whispered, barely recognizing your own voice.

you felt the shift instantly, a change so abrupt it sent a shiver down your spine. sunoo’s entire demeanor had shifted, his usual playful, almost teasing nature now replaced by something much more assertive—something that left you momentarily stunned. his gaze, once filled with amusement, was now sharp, unwavering, laced with an intensity you weren’t used to seeing from him.

“come here.”

his voice was steady, almost commanding, as he patted his lap, the simple gesture sending a wave of anticipation through you.

your breath hitched, hesitating for only a second before your body moved on its own. your legs carried you forward, and before you knew it, you were settling onto his lap, straddling him with a mix of hesitation and something far more dangerous—curiosity.

his hands found your hips effortlessly, fingers resting firmly yet not forcefully, grounding you in place. the heat of his touch seeped through the fabric of your clothes, sending a subtle thrill through your body. he wasn’t rushing, wasn’t pushing—just waiting, letting you feel the weight of the moment.

his eyes met yours, dark and unreadable, but his voice was softer this time. “you can always back out of this, y/n.”

it wasn’t a warning. it was a reassurance. a reminder that despite the shift, despite the unknown that lay ahead, you still held all the control.

“no, it’s fine…” you murmured, your voice steadier than you expected. your hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his shirt as you nodded, reaffirming your words. “i want to…”

those three words seemed to settle something deep within sunoo, dissolving whatever lingering hesitation he might have had. this wasn’t just about proving a point anymore—he wanted to know if you were truly comfortable with this, if you were letting him in willingly. and, if he was honest with himself, he wanted to do this in a way that wouldn’t just satisfy his need to prove something, but would also leave you wanting more.

his hands glided down slowly, palms warm as they traced the curve of your waist before settling against your thighs. his touch was firm but not demanding, the heat of his fingers seeping through the thin fabric, igniting something beneath your skin.

his dark eyes never left yours, a silent exchange passing between you both, more powerful than any words he could offer. he didn’t need to say anything—his gaze alone told you everything. a question, a reassurance, and something deeper, something unreadable but undeniably there.

one hand remained firm on your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin just enough to make you hyperaware of his touch, while the other reached up, cradling the side of your face with a gentleness that sent a shiver down your spine. he guided you down effortlessly, his thumb grazing your cheek as he closed the space between you, his lips finally meeting yours.

the kiss started slow—steady and controlled, as if he was savoring the moment, testing the waters. his lips moved against yours with purpose, the pressure just right, his warmth enveloping you in a way that sent your mind reeling.

never in your life did you think this would happen. the thought alone felt almost surreal, the realization that you were kissing one of your closest friends sending a spark of disbelief through you. but any hesitation, any second-guessing, melted away the moment he deepened the kiss.

his grip on your thigh tightened slightly as his lips moved with more intensity, more certainty, pulling you in as if he refused to let you second-guess this moment. the soft, controlled movements gave way to something deeper, something more urgent, as if he wanted to prove himself with each press of his lips against yours.

and you let him.

because despite the initial shock, despite the blur of emotions crashing over you, there was one undeniable truth—you wanted this just as much as he did.

his lips wandered downward, leaving a burning trail along the sensitive skin of your neck. each kiss was deliberate, his movements slow yet calculated, as if he wanted you to feel every second of it. his lips parted slightly, the warmth of his breath fanning against your skin before he latched on, sucking gently at first before his teeth grazed over the spot, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through your body.

your breath hitched, fingers tightening against his shoulders, but he didn’t falter—not once. instead, his hands moved with purpose, fingers brushing against the hem of your shirt before he gripped it firmly, wasting no time in tugging it over your head. the fabric barely had a chance to hit the floor before you felt the weight of their stares.

there you sat, bare before them all—only your red lace panties keeping you somewhat covered. the cool air kissed your exposed skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body, the rush of vulnerability mixing with something far more intoxicating.

sunoo’s eyes darkened, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he took in the sight before him.

“fuck…” he muttered, his voice low, almost breathless.

the single word hung heavy in the air, thick with desire, with anticipation. and in that moment, you knew—this wasn’t just about proving a point anymore.

your hands instinctively move to cover yourself, a sudden wave of shyness washing over you under the weight of their heated stares. the intensity in their eyes—dark, unreadable, filled with something primal—makes your skin prickle with awareness.

but sunoo is quick to act.

his fingers wrap around your wrists before you can fully shield yourself, his grip firm yet gentle as he pulls your hands away. his gaze flickers up to meet yours, filled with something that makes your breath hitch.

“keep them down.”

his voice is steady, commanding, leaving no room for hesitation.

your fingers curl into the fabric of the couch, your pulse hammering in anticipation as his attention shifts downward. his eyes linger, drinking in the sight before him, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as if restraining himself.

his mouth finds you without hesitation, lips wrapping around one peak as a sharp gasp escapes you. the warmth of his tongue flicking over the sensitive skin sends a shiver down your spine, your body reacting instantly to the sensation. he doesn’t hold back, sucking with just the right amount of pressure, his teeth grazing you ever so slightly before his tongue soothes over the spot.

a soft moan slips past your lips, your back arching slightly as your fingers dig into the couch, trying to ground yourself against the flood of sensation overtaking you.

he hums against your skin, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through you, his grip tightening ever so slightly on your waist.

he’s enjoying this—enjoying the way you react, the way your body responds so easily to him. and you? you’re completely at his mercy.

the room is thick with tension, the kind that settles deep in your bones, making every breath feel heavier. the others just sit there, too stunned to speak, their eyes locked onto you—onto the way sunoo’s mouth moves against your skin, claiming every inch of you with slow, deliberate sucks. the heat of his tongue flicking over each peak sends jolts of pleasure straight through your body, your back arching instinctively, seeking more.

the ache between your legs only grows, pulsing, desperate for relief. your hips move on their own, rolling forward, grinding against the growing bulge beneath you. the friction is intoxicating, making your breath hitch, a soft, needy moan escaping before you can stop it. the sensation is everything you’ve been craving, sending a sharp spark of pleasure right where you need it most.

but just as quickly as it comes, it’s taken away.

sunoo’s hands grip your waist, stilling your movements in an instant, his fingers digging in just enough to make his point. his lips leave your skin, glistening, his gaze meeting yours with a dangerous mix of control and amusement.

“you take what i give.”

his voice is low, firm, laced with authority that sends a shiver down your spine. his grip doesn’t loosen, his presence completely consuming, demanding your submission with nothing more than a look.

your breathing is uneven, your body still trembling from the denied pleasure, but the challenge in his tone makes your stomach twist in anticipation.

“please, sunoo…” you whimper, your voice barely above a breath, laced with desperation. your fingers dig into his shoulders, your body trembling as his fingertips lazily trace over the thin fabric covering your aching core.

he doesn’t rush—no, he takes his time, barely applying any pressure, just the softest, teasing flicks against your clothed clit. the sensation is maddening, sending tiny jolts of pleasure through you, but never enough to satisfy the throbbing need building inside you.

a low chuckle rumbles from his chest, his lips curling into a smirk as he watches you squirm beneath his touch. “you sound so pretty begging for me, baby…” his voice is smooth, laced with amusement, but there’s something deeper beneath it—something dark, something possessive.

his words send a shiver down your spine, a fresh wave of arousal pooling between your thighs. you moan at the praise, eyes fluttering shut as the ache intensifies, your pussy clenching helplessly around nothing.

you need more—so much more—but sunoo just keeps up his agonizing pace, barely giving you what you want, dragging out every second, watching as your desperation grows.

“look at you,” he muses, his fingers pressing just a little harder, enough to make your breath hitch. “so needy, and i’ve barely even touched you.”

he moves before you can even process it. with effortless strength, he lifts you off his lap, his hands gripping your waist as he shifts positions. a startled gasp escapes you as he tosses you gently onto the couch, the plush cushions cushioning your fall.

your body barely has time to react before he’s kneeling between your legs, his presence dominating the space between you. his hands are steady, deliberate, as they hook into the waistband of your lace panties, dragging them down in one slow, tantalizing motion. the cool air kisses your exposed skin, sending a shiver up your spine as your underwear is discarded somewhere onto the floor.

his breath hitches, a low, appreciative grunt escaping his lips as he takes in the sight of you—completely bare before him. a moment of silence hangs in the air, heavy and charged, before you hear the sharp intake of breath from the others.

“i’m gonna make you feel so good, baby…” his voice is a smooth promise, dripping with intent, his fingertips brushing along the inside of your thighs as he spreads them wider, fully exposing you to his hungry gaze.

his eyes darken as he drinks in the sight of you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he groans at the sheer view.

“and while i do that,” he continues, his tone firm, unwavering. his gaze flickers up to meet yours, filled with something dangerous, something commanding. “i want you to look at them.”

your breath stutters.

his words settle deep within you, igniting something raw, something forbidden. your eyes flicker toward the others, who are still watching, still mesmerized by the scene unfolding before them.

the weight of their gazes only makes the heat between your legs burn hotter.

sunoo starts slow, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your inner thighs, leaving a trail of delicate, teasing kisses. each press of his lips is unhurried, deliberate, like he’s savoring the taste of you before he even reaches his destination. the heat of his breath fans over your sensitive skin, making your muscles twitch in anticipation.

he inches up, closer and closer, until he’s face to face with your aching core. your slickness glistens under the dim light, coating your folds, an unspoken invitation that makes his breath hitch. his fingers move with purpose, spreading you open, exposing every delicate inch of you to his hungry gaze.

your body jolts at the sensation, a sharp gasp slipping past your lips. “s-sunoo…” you whimper, your voice trembling, thick with need.

but before you can say anything else, he’s on you.

his lips crash against your pussy with a fervor that makes your head spin, tongue immediately delving between your folds, collecting every bit of your arousal in his mouth. he groans at the taste, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you, making your back arch off the couch.

his tongue moves expertly, flicking and swirling, alternating between slow, teasing strokes and deep, indulgent licks. he devours you like he’s been starving for this moment, his grip tightening on your thighs as he pulls you closer, burying himself deeper.

the sounds—the wet, sinful noises of his mouth working against you, the soft gasps and moans spilling from your lips—fill the room, adding to the thick, unbearable tension that already lingers.

your eyes flutter shut, your lips parting as soft, breathy moans spill from them. the sensation of his tongue working against you is almost overwhelming, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. your fingers tangle in the cushions beneath you, grasping for something—anything—to keep yourself grounded as he pleases you so effortlessly.

but just as you begin to sink into the bliss, a sharp sting blossoms across your thigh, the sudden smack making you jolt. a gasp rips from your throat, your eyes snapping open in shock as heat radiates from the spot where his hand just struck.

“what did i tell you?” sunoo’s voice is smooth, yet firm, holding an edge of authority that makes your stomach twist.

his dark eyes flick up to meet yours, his lips glistening with your slickness, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he watches your reaction. his fingers trail over the place he just struck, soothing the warmth left behind, before giving your thigh another sharp squeeze.

“keep your eyes on them.”

his words send a fresh wave of heat through you, your body responding instinctively, thighs trembling slightly beneath his grip. he waits, watching you expectantly, making sure you obey before diving back in, his tongue resuming its torturous, sinful pace.

you obey him without hesitation, your eyes barely able to stay open as pleasure crashes over you in waves. your expression is completely undone—lips parted, swollen from where you’ve been biting them, brows furrowed in pure, unfiltered bliss. every nerve in your body is on fire, every muscle tensed in anticipation of what’s coming next.

his mouth latches onto your clit with a sudden, intense suction that makes your back arch off the couch, a sharp moan ripping from your throat. the wet warmth of his tongue moves expertly, flicking and swirling before he sucks harshly again, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

just when you think you can’t take any more, his fingers press against your entrance, teasingly circling before slowly pushing inside. the stretch is delicious, his fingers sinking into you with ease, the slickness of your arousal making it effortless. he groans against you, the vibrations only adding to the unbearable pleasure as he starts to move—slow at first, testing, before curling his fingers just right, hitting that spot that has your entire body trembling.

“fuck, s-sunoo..” your voice is broken, shaky, barely coherent as you clutch onto the couch for dear life.

he hums against your clit, clearly pleased with your reaction, his fingers picking up their pace, thrusting into you deeper, harder, his mouth never once relenting.

the coil in your stomach tightens dangerously, the pleasure building rapidly, threatening to consume you whole.

“sunoo—sunoo, please!” you cry out, your voice breaking between moans as his fingers continue their relentless pace, plunging into you with precision, each thrust leaving you breathless. the wet, sinful sounds of your arousal echo through the room, only adding to the intensity of the moment. your walls flutter around his fingers, clenching down instinctively as that familiar, burning heat coils deep in your stomach, warning you that you’re teetering on the edge.

“fuck, sunoo—i’m gonna cum! i—i can’t—” your words come out in desperate gasps, your entire body trembling as the pleasure builds unbearably.

but instead of giving in, he chuckles darkly against your skin, his breath hot as he murmurs, “aww, you wanna cum, baby?” his voice is smooth, teasing, completely unfazed by your desperation.

his fingers don’t slow—not even for a second. if anything, he moves even faster, driving them deeper, curling them just right until your legs are shaking around him. and then, just when you think you can’t take anymore, his thumb comes down on your swollen clit, pressing down before rubbing harsh, relentless circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. the sudden overstimulation makes your back arch off the couch, a sharp, broken moan ripping from your throat.

but just as your release is within reach, just as you’re about to fall over the edge, he suddenly tightens his grip on your thigh, voice dropping into a firm, commanding tone.

“you’re gonna hold it.”

your eyes widen in pure, helpless agony. “w-what?” your voice is a wrecked whimper, your body on fire, teetering dangerously on the brink of pleasure.

he smirks, amusement flickering in his dark eyes as he watches you squirm, your desperation only fueling him more. “you heard me. you’re not cumming until i say so.”

your body betrays you, clenching around his fingers, desperate for relief, but he gives you none. instead, he continues his ruthless pace, dragging you further into the agonizing high without letting you fall over the edge.

“fuck—no, sunoo! i can’t—please!” you cry out, your voice breaking into a desperate sob as your body trembles uncontrollably beneath his touch. your hands clutch at the cushions, fingers curling into the fabric like a lifeline, your entire body writhing under the intensity of his movements. your legs shake violently, barely able to keep still as he continues his merciless assault, his fingers plunging in and out of you at a brutal pace, stretching you, filling you, driving you to the very edge of insanity.

your chest rises and falls in frantic breaths, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from the sheer overstimulation. every muscle in your body is taut, coiled so tightly it feels like you might snap at any moment. the unbearable pleasure surges through you in waves, an inferno burning deep in your core, desperate for release. but he won’t let you.

“aww, poor baby…” sunoo coos, his voice laced with mock sympathy, though the amusement in his tone betrays his true intentions. his dark eyes glint with satisfaction as he watches you unravel, drinking in the sight of your helpless state. he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin as he murmurs, “i don’t care.”

his words send a sharp jolt of heat straight through you, a fresh wave of arousal pooling between your thighs despite the sweet torture he’s inflicting.

his fingers curl inside you again, hitting that perfect spot with unrelenting precision, his thumb still circling your clit in fast, ruthless strokes. your legs twitch, your moans turning into broken sobs as you shake beneath him, completely at his mercy.

he’s enjoying this—enjoying the way you fall apart in his hands, how utterly wrecked you are for him.

his movements halt abruptly, leaving you panting, teetering on the edge of a release he refuses to grant. before you can even catch your breath, he shifts you effortlessly, guiding your body to lay flat against the plush cushions of the couch. his touch is firm but careful, positioning you exactly how he wants—spread out, vulnerable, completely at his mercy.

his hands move with purpose, fingers reaching for the hem of his shirt. in one smooth motion, he pulls it over his head and tosses it aside, revealing the toned expanse of his torso. his skin glows under the dim lighting, his prominent abs flexing slightly as he breathes. the sight alone sends another rush of heat pooling between your legs, your thighs instinctively pressing together in anticipation.

but he isn’t done.

his fingers work their way down, unbuttoning his pants with agonizing slowness, as if savoring every second of your hungry gaze trailing over his body. the fabric slides down his hips, along with his boxers, pooling at his feet before he kicks them away carelessly.

and then he’s bare.

his cock springs free, hard and thick, the tip glistening with arousal. the sight alone makes your breath hitch, your mouth going dry as your thighs clench involuntarily. he watches your reaction, his lips curling into a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

“like what you see, baby?” he taunts, his voice dripping with amusement as he strokes himself lazily, letting you take in every inch of him.

he moves over you with a predatory grace, his body hovering just inches above yours, the heat radiating from his skin making your breath hitch. his hands find your face, fingers cupping your cheeks with a gentleness that contrasts the hunger in his gaze. his thumb strokes your flushed skin before he leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, consuming kiss.

his lips move against yours with raw intensity, swallowing your soft whimpers as his tongue teases its way into your mouth. the taste of him, warm and intoxicating, sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through you, your fingers instinctively reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer.

a low groan rumbles from his chest as he breaks the kiss, his breath fanning against your lips. without another word, his hand wraps around his cock, fisting it slowly, the slick head brushing against your soaked folds. the contact sends a jolt of electricity through you, a shaky gasp escaping as he drags himself along your slit, coating himself in your wetness.

“fuck…” he grunts, his voice low, strained, the friction making his hips jerk slightly. his cock slides against your clit with every slow stroke, the sensation making your thighs twitch as your body craves more.

he watches your face closely, drinking in every reaction, every flutter of your lashes, every soft gasp that falls from your lips. he’s teasing, taking his time, savoring the feeling of you beneath him, knowing damn well how much you need him to just give in.

before you can even process it, he pushes in—slowly, deliberately, letting you feel every inch as he stretches you open. the sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pressure that has your breath hitching, your fingers curling into the couch beneath you. your walls clench instinctively around him, the tightness drawing a deep, guttural groan from his throat.

“shit…” he breathes out, his voice strained, laced with pure pleasure as he sinks deeper, his cock disappearing inch by inch inside you.

his arms move beneath yours, caging you in, his hands pressing firmly against the cushions just above your shoulders. his body is flush against yours, the warmth of his skin pressing into you, grounding you in the moment.

he dips his head down, his lips ghosting over your neck before pressing soft, lingering kisses against your heated skin. each kiss is slow, almost tender, a stark contrast to the overwhelming fullness stretching you apart. his breath is hot against your pulse, his lips trailing up toward your jaw, as if whispering silent reassurances between each soft peck.

his hips still momentarily, letting you adjust, his thumbs stroking soothing circles against your skin. but the way his fingers tense against the couch, the way his breathing grows heavier, tells you he’s barely holding back.

his hips start to move, and though his initial thrusts are measured, controlled, it doesn’t last. the way your walls cling to him, squeezing him with every inch he sinks into you, has his restraint snapping almost instantly. his movements quickly become rougher, more urgent, each deep thrust slamming into you with a force that leaves you gasping for air.

the sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, mingling with the heavy breaths and desperate moans that spill from your lips. the pleasure is overwhelming, each stroke hitting deep, sending shockwaves through your body. your legs react instinctively, wrapping tightly around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer as your fingers claw at his back, nails digging into the firm muscles beneath your touch.

“sunoo!” you cry out, your voice breaking into a scream of pleasure as he angles his hips just right, dragging against that sensitive spot inside you that makes your vision blur.

his breath is ragged, hot against your ear as he groans, his grip on the cushions tightening as he pounds into you without mercy. “shit, baby… you’re so fucking tight…” his voice is thick with lust, raw and strained, as if he’s barely holding himself together.

his pace only quickens, his thrusts growing deeper, rougher, his body pressing you further into the couch as he loses himself in the way you feel around him. every roll of his hips sends sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins, building that tight coil in your stomach, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“look at you, taking my dick so well, baby…” sunoo groans, his voice thick with pleasure, eyes locked onto the sight of you beneath him. the way your body takes every relentless thrust, the way your walls squeeze him so perfectly—it has his head spinning. his hips don’t slow, not even for a second, driving into you with an unrelenting pace that has you seeing stars.

“fuuuckk—yes, sunoo!” you cry out, your body arching beneath him, the pleasure overwhelming, intoxicating. every thrust hits deeper, harder, sending waves of euphoria crashing through you, your fingers digging into his back in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.

his lips curl into a cocky smirk as he watches you unravel, completely lost in the pleasure he’s giving you. “love this dick already, baby?” he taunts, his breath hot against your lips, the teasing lilt in his voice only making the fire inside you burn hotter.

before you can even answer, his mouth crashes onto yours, stealing your breath, swallowing every moan, every whimper. his lips move with raw hunger, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, deepening the kiss as if he’s trying to consume you whole.

the way you taste—sweet, intoxicating—only fuels him more, makes him thrust into you even harder, his body completely consumed by the way you feel wrapped so tightly around him. he’s drowning in you, in this moment, in the way your bodies move together in perfect, reckless harmony.

he swears he’s never felt this high before—never felt anything like this. it’s addicting. and he never wants to stop.

“fuuuckk—sunoo, i c-can’t—i c-can’t…” your voice is a desperate, broken whimper, your entire body trembling beneath him. every thrust sends you spiraling further, the pleasure so overwhelming it’s almost unbearable. your nails dig into his back, clinging to him as if he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

sunoo groans at the sound of your voice, the way you’re falling apart completely for him. his hips snap forward with relentless force, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to that inevitable peak. he can feel it—the way your walls flutter around him, squeezing him tighter, your body begging for release.

“fuck, baby—wanna cum?” his voice is thick with desire, breathless as he leans in, his lips ghosting over your ear. “you wanna cum for me?”

your head tilts back, a sob of pleasure escaping your lips as your entire body quivers beneath him. you’re teetering on the edge, dangling between sweet bliss and unbearable tension, your mind clouded with nothing but him—his touch, his voice, the way he’s completely consuming you.

“p-please—please, fuck—please!” you beg, your voice wrecked, desperate, pleading for the release you so desperately need.

his fingers tighten their grip on your shoulders, his breath ragged against your skin as he thrusts into you harder, deeper, his own control beginning to fray. “cum for me, baby,” he growls, his voice dark, commanding. “let go.”

a loud, uncontrollable cry rips from your throat as the pleasure crashes over you in violent, overwhelming waves. your entire body tenses, then completely unravels, trembling beneath him as the intense release takes hold.

and then it happens.

the sharp, wet sound fills the air as your climax bursts forth, a powerful spray soaking both you and sunoo. the sudden gush makes your mind go blank, your vision blurring as your body convulses with the force of your orgasm.

gasps echo through the room—the others watching in stunned silence, eyes wide as they take in the sight of you, completely wrecked, completely undone.

sunoo freezes for a moment, his breath catching in his throat, before a deep, guttural moan tears from his lips. his jaw goes slack, his eyes darkening as he watches the way you squirt against him, your slickness dripping down his abs, coating his cock in a way that has his entire body trembling.

“fuck, baby…” he groans, his voice hoarse, filled with pure, raw hunger. the sensation of your release against him, the warmth, the wetness—it drives him wild, makes his hips jerk forward on instinct, as if chasing the feeling of you unraveling beneath him.

your legs shake violently, your hands grasping at anything—his shoulders, the cushions, his arms—as you sob out his name, your entire body still pulsing from the aftershocks.

“sunoo!” your voice is desperate, breathless, your head tilting back as you ride out the high, waves of pleasure still coursing through your veins.

and sunoo? he looks completely mesmerized—completely addicted to the sight of you falling apart just for him.

“fuck—i’m gonna cum, oh shit!” sunoo grunts, his voice rough, breathless, completely lost in the intensity of his release.

his movements grow erratic, hips stuttering as he pulls out at the last second, his hand immediately wrapping around his cock. his strokes are fast, desperate, chasing his high as his chest rises and falls in rapid pants.

a deep, guttural moan rips from his throat as he spills onto your stomach, thick ropes of cum painting your skin as his body jerks with each pulse. his grip on himself tightens, milking every last drop as his head tilts back, his mouth falling open in a silent moan, completely lost in the pleasure overtaking him.

“shit…” he exhales, voice raspy, his body still trembling from the force of his orgasm.

his dark, hooded eyes trail down to the mess he’s made on you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he watches his release drip down your stomach, glistening against your flushed skin.

without hesitation, his fingers dip into the creamy warmth, gathering his cum onto his fingertips before bringing them to your lips.

“suck.”

his command is firm, unwavering, his gaze locked onto yours, waiting. his fingers press lightly against your bottom lip, smearing the mess against your soft skin, teasing you—daring you.

his breathing is still uneven, his body still humming with the remnants of pleasure, but the hunger in his eyes hasn’t faded. if anything, it’s only grown darker.

you comply without hesitation, parting your lips as his fingers slide past them, pressing against your tongue. the warm, salty taste of him coats your taste buds, and a soft, involuntary moan escapes your throat at the sensation. your tongue swirls around his fingers, sucking lightly, savoring the way he watches you—his gaze dark, filled with something unreadable, something possessive.

his breathing is still uneven, his chest rising and falling as he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes. your lips wrap tighter around his fingers, your tongue pressing against the ridges of his knuckles before you slowly pull back, letting them slip from your mouth with a soft pop.

the room is thick with heat, the only sound filling the space being the heavy breathing between the both of you. your skin is damp with sweat, your body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure, and yet the weight of what just happened lingers in the air.

then, sunoo smirks, breaking the silence with a breathy chuckle.

“am i subby now?”

natty’s notes ᝰ.ᐟ hoped you liked it !!

[bloodibambiidoll]

What would Rafe be like with weird!girl having to use their safe word? Also what do you reckon she’d use it for?

Okay so !! She’s only ever used it a few times but I think one thing would be edging her when she’s like really needy. Just like to the point that she can’t take it anymore bc she’s spoiled and overwhelmed and wants to cum. And he’s a sucker for her so he would, in fact, let her cum. There’s a lil callback to this blurb in this also. Ty for the request bb! 🤍

Warnings: Orgasm denial, pussy eating, fingering, pussy slapping, use of a safe word, Rafe calling reader “bats”, daddy kink, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, baby talk and gooey fluff at the end.

Rafe has been pushing you to the edge with his tongue and fingers and then ripping your orgasms away from you for what feels like hours now. No matter how hard you beg he won’t fuck you or let you cum and you feel like you’re going to go insane. Your pussy is pulsing and your entire body shakes as tears stream down your face, streaking your cheeks with your prettily applied make up. Your body is covered in a layer of sweat and your chest heaves from how loud you’ve been moaning and whining underneath him.

“Please let me cum Rafe -“ Your fiancé pulls his fingers and lips from you to land a harsh smack on your aching cunt and send you a look of disapproval. “Ah fuck! I’m sorry! Daddy, please please let me cum!”

“You’ll cum when I say you get to cum, your pussy belongs to me. I say when she gets to gush for me. Not you.” Rafe thrusts his fingers back into your puffy, dripping cunt and it causes you to yelp and arch your back off the bed. He pumps them in and out of you at a rough pace, curling his fingers against your walls and bullying your sweet spot. His thumb comes up to rub circles on your slick clit and it makes your eyes roll into the back of your head as your pussy pulses around his thick digits. You’re so close and you think he’s going to finally let you cum but the minute that you’re about to finally tip over the edge it’s ripped away from you again. Rafe pulls his fingers out of you to smack your aching core and a loud sob rips through you.

“Daddy, please, please let me cum. I’m yours, only yours, my pussy is yours my cum is yours my body is yours. Please just fuck me!” Your voice is practically a babble from begging and sobbing and Rafe just smirks down at you. Loving you like this. And usually you love it too. But this is the longest it’s gone on and you’re starting to become delirious from how badly your body wants a release. You didn’t even do anything. It’s not your fault Mr. Robinson saw you at the country club and decided a good time to say hi was when Rafe went to the bathroom. When Rafe came out and saw him practically fucking you with his eyes he saw red. He grabbed you by the waist and hauled your ass home immediately. But not without giving the older man a piece of his mind, of course.

“Mmm, I don’t think I will, princess.” Rafe chuckles as he leans down between your legs and licks a stripe along your pussy to your clit before thrusting his tongue into your hole. He flicks it inside you and swirls it around while his hand comes up to give your throbbing clit attention. He rotates between fucking you with his fingers and his tongue, never letting your clit go untouched. When he sucks it hard into his mouth with his fingers rubbing against your g-spot you know you’re about to cum, your legs try to clamp around his head but he uses his free hand to keep you spread open for him. The knot in your stomach tightens and your walls spasm around his fingers. Half broken sobs leave your mouth as you beg him to let you finally cum.

“Oh god, I’m gonna cum, please daddy!” You attempt to thrust your hips against his face to push yourself over the edge but his hold is too strong, and then it’s gone. He pulls away from you entirely, sitting up on his knees looking down at you with a fire in his eyes as he takes his dripping fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean before smirking down at you devilishly. And normally you would think that was insanely hot but all it does is make you sob. You know your period is close and it’s making you extra needy and the fact that he stopped again nearly devastates you.

“You’re so pretty like this, my pretty little slut begging me to let her cum. Crying f’me.” Rafe swipes his thumb across your cheek, wiping some of your tears clean. Then he uses his tear stained fingers to spread your pussy lips before pumping them inside of you, not even giving you time to think before he’s pushing you to the edge and pulling you away again. And then he’s fucking you with his tongue again and this time when he rips away you can’t take it anymore. Your eyes hurt from the mascara running into them and your thighs are sore from the way he’s kept you propped open. The worst part is despite how bad your pussy aches you still want to cum so badly and you know he’s not going to let you. He promised you that on the drive home.

“Pumpkin! Pumpkin! No more, no more.” You shake your head from side to side as buckets of tears stream down your face and your entire body shakes with sobs. Rafe’s demeanor changes immediately, you’ve only ever used the safe word one other time when he was choking you so hard with his belt that you passed out twice, his perfect little freak. But right now? He’s realizing these aren’t the kind of tears he likes to see coming from his girl.

“Shit. I’m sorry baby. It’s okay, come ere.” Rafe unties his sweats so he can pull out his thick, hard cock. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t dying to cum for a while now himself. He gathers your sobbing form into his arms and leans back against the headboard with you straddling him. “Daddy will give you what you need, aight? Just shhh, it’s okay.”

Rafe runs his hands through your hair and places a soft peck on your lips before raising your hips so he can line his cock up with your entrance and push himself inside you in one thrust. The feeling of finally him fucking you makes your eyes cross and fills you with relief. Rafe plants his feet flat on the bed so he can fuck up into you rough and deep.

“It’s okay, Bats. You’re okay, cum for daddy.” His thumb finds your clit, he leans down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth and that’s all it takes to have ecstasy finally washing over you. A loud moan rips through you and your walls flutter around Rafe’s cock as a blistering explosion of pleasure overtakes your body. “That’s it, that’s my good girl. Gimme another one.”

Rafe flips you onto your back and throws your legs over his shoulders so he can fuck you even deeper. He leans down and kisses you messily, his thumb finding your abused clit as he practically folds you in half like a pretzel. You’re so sensitive that it doesn’t take much to have you gushing around his cock again. Your pretty moans and the feeling of your perfect fucking pussy has Rafe cumming right along with you, his cock twitching inside you as he fills you with ropes of his cum. After catching his breath he pulls out and flips onto his back, pulling you to lay on top of him in one swift motion.

“I’m sorry, sweet girl. Are you alright?” Rafe asks you softly as his hand gently caresses the curve of your back. “You’re usually into when I edge you. Did something happen?”

“Mmm, I’m okay, Rafey.” You hum and nuzzle into his firm chest. “Just gonna get my period soon and it just became too much. Wanted to cum on your cock so bad.” You look up at him with a pout and Rafe can’t help but chuckle at how cute you are.

“Yeah? Your body wants me to put a baby in you.” You scoff and swat his chest, rolling your eyes at the way he wiggles his brows down at you.

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately. Are you ovulating, babe?” You return his raised brow with one of your own and a cheshire smirk to match.

“Oh my god, just because you said your safe word doesn’t mean I won’t still beat your little ass.” Rafe smirks back at you and lands a little swat on your bare as that makes you yelp. “I love you.”

“I love you too. But don’t think changing the subject means I’m going to stop teasing you about your baby fever.” You giggle and place a kiss on his cheek as he groans.

“I don’t have fuckin’ baby fever, Bats. Get your ass up and start the shower before I get the paddle, for real. I’m gonna get you some Jammie’s.” Rafe grabs a handful of your ass before smacking it again and getting up to go toward the closet. He spends the rest of the evening pampering you with a massage, a comfort movie, and your favorite take out before making you cum until you can’t keep your eyes open anymore.

Tagging pookies: @babygorewhore @cxrrodedcoffin @eddiesxangel @starkeysprincess @cameronsprincess @xxladymjxx @that-sarcastic-writer @sturnioloshacker

Divider by @anitalenia

All things Rafe & his weird!girl here

[cosmicfandomvegan]

Gods, Obito and Kakashi were totally simping for each other weren't they?

These two were disgustingly down bad for each other in the most tragic, soul-crushing way possible. The secret infauation was legendary—just buried under layers of guilt, war, and emotional constipation.

Exhibit A: Obito’s Entire Existence:

- Gave Kakashi his literal eye (a Sharingan! An Uchiha’s "heart"!) as a ”congrats on your promotion” gift.

- Basically "died" screaming Kakashi’s name while getting crushed by a boulder ("Protect Rin… for me…" aka "I trust you with my heart’s last wish").

-Kept Kakashi alive at every opportunity (yes, even that time when he went on a killer rampage and had just witnessed Kakashi kill his literal crush).

- As an adult terrorist? BOY WAS STILL OBSESSED! Built a whole Kakashi’s Pain Simulator in the Kamui dimension. He recreated Kakashi’s suffering in his mind to "prove" Kakashi’s life was pain—because Obito was, in fact, obsessed.

-Obito stalked Kakashi for years (watching him mourn at the Memorial Stone.. Kinda wonder if he was comparing dicks at any point too, like Gai did in that one filler episode🍆).

-Then in a way, Kamui was like Obito’s "Kakashi Pain Cave" where he sulked for 15 years—peak infatuation!)

- "I’ll haunt you forever 🖤🤍" energy 😭

Exhibit B: Kakashi’s Eternal Guilt Kink:

- Wore Obito’s eye for 20 years, never removing it, never moving on. "This is my burden (and also my emotional support trauma eye that reminds me of how good a person Obito was as I strive to make him proud every day of my life).”

- Barely brought Rin up. I mean, she must've been closer to him than Obito, right? Lived longer, he actually got along with her... She was like his sister. But nah, his memories and thoughts are almost allllll Obito. (Bro loved both, but he loved Obito, catch my drift? He was dead-ass obsessed with a dead guy. If Obito was an Obita, way more people would ship and even say they were clearly in love.)

- When Obito finally revealed himself? Kakashi stabbed him ironically in the heart (metaphor?) and then had a mental breakdown in the middle of battle. Classic. T_T

-After Obito's "death", Kakashi didn't just adopt his ideals, he let Obito's ghost rewrite his entire personality. (He deeply admired Obito too. 🥹)

-Literally built a shrine to his memory (and visited it more than his dad’s grave).

Obito’s name wasn’t even officially on the classified mission names list, but Kakashi carved it in himself like a lovesick Victorian widow etching initials into a tree. Meanwhile, Sakumo’s grave? Pretty dusty. :/ 

Obito’s symbolic headstone he's like, "BB I VISIT YOU EVERY SINGLE DAY AND I QUOTE YOU CONTINUOUSLY 😭" aka YOU STILL MATTER. (how fucking romantic????)

And let’s not even get into how Kakashi retired to tend Obito’s grave post-war. Dude built a whole second shrine.

Peak uwu Moment:

Their final interaction in the war:

- Obito: "I’m giving you my Sharingan again. Here’s a double Mangekyō. Go be OP, my emotionally stunted king. 👑😩"

- Kakashi: "I’ll carry your will (and also your face in my soul) forever.”

- Poor Naruto watching and knowing full-well he's missed an entire gay saga of Kakashi's life: "Are they… flirting....?¿?? wtf maaan...-___-;"

Conclusion:

They were disaster soulmates—one died a martyr, the other lived as a widow, and their love language was mutual self-destruction. If that’s not obsessive infatuation, what is? They could def have been a toxic rom-com and I'd pay to watch it. 🍿😎 I mean, they were so in love. Kakashi could never let go, and neither could Obito.

(I know it's not canon but we don't talk about that.)

[nylwnder]

muddy mess

a/n: hiiiiiiiiiiiiii my bbs!!!!!!!!! okay, i have made you guys wait so long for this and i honestly never expected this to end up at 6k?? didn't even know i am capable of such a word count but its all for uuuu guys!! i hope you love it as much as i loved writing it (even if it took me longer than i would have wanted, in which sorry pls forgive me <3 i hate uni) i added some suggestions from u guys (like making the reader latina again!). also yes, this is indeed the end of the smutty series and i absolutely loved this opportunity to be soooo slutty with you guys!!! dw, i have a lot of ideas still flowing and i can't wait to share that during the rest of 2025 :) enjoy whores!

pairing: william nylander x latina!reader 

warnings: SMUT!! oral (f! receiving), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, dog walker!reader, use of spanish (with translations in brackets), swearing, mutual pinning, just being lowkey obsessed with each other, pablo and banksy referred to as willy's kids (cause they are), beau mention!!!!! (my dog <333333)

word count: 6.3k

taglist:  @shoot-the-puck, @lukepangburn118 , @hawkeyefierce , @boqvistsbabe , @sweetiet , @p1tstop , @occasionallyaurora , @laurenairay , @fallinallincurls , @andrea9 , @dylpickle4791 , @biznastysloneshift12 , @dramatic-queen , @willianmylander

series masterpost 

the day was nice, one of the reasons why autumn was your favourite season. the air is a welcoming crisp, enough to wear a long sleeve or a lightly layered outfit, complimenting the bright and shining sun that grazed everyone’s faces. the city was bright with warm tones, the yellow and orange leaves littering the ground like a sunset. 

you had gotten ready in the morning to head to your first client, your only client, your favourite client. you hooked the leash on your own dog, beau, and headed out the door. walking to the apartment building you know all too well, welcoming yourself to the front desk per usual. 

once the elevator doors sprung open to the correct level, beau had made his way to the door in excitement. smelling through the crack and wagging his tail. cracking open the lock with your key, you’re met with your usual sight: three dogs greeting each other in pure joy. afterwards, the other two greet you with licks to any and all exposed skin. 

“hola chavalitos, ay si mi preciouso!” (hi kiddos, oh yes you cuties!!) you exclaim. 

you close the door behind you, as the pups run to the living room to continue saying hello. beginning to play with some toys while you grab the necessities for pablo and banksy. willy always left everything you needed neatly for you on a table everytime he left them for practice, a game or a road trip. you always appreciated his consideration, sometimes wasting far too much time trying to find a leash or a harness in a crowded mess with other clients.   

you call pablo and banksy over, kneeling down to get them all geared up while beau waits patiently beside them. “you are such good boys aren't you!” you smile, patting one before turning to set up the other. 

you must admit, you have never walked more well behaved dogs in your life. sure there was the odd excitement for a squirrel or an eager pull to the dog park, but never a hassle and always something you could manage. in all honesty, you didn't even really need the leashes, since william has accustomed them to behave perfectly fine without them. but for safety and formality, you chose to do so. 

that also meant you couldn't deny working full time for william, when he asked. with the way his schedule seemed to mesh perfectly with your life, not to mention the way beau had managed to bond with his adorably curly rascals—and william—it seemed like an easy decision. willy also made sure to meet up to expectations, to make sure it was worth it to invest all your time in him and his pups. sure, you would have done it for free, out of pure love and care for pablo and banksy… and william, but this was your job. your source of income for the moment. and will understood that. 

that also meant the butterflies and fuzzy feeling you felt whenever you would catch willy still in the apartment, fresh out of the shower, shirt nowhere to be seen and sweats hanging deliciously low around his waist, was to be pushed aside. and buried. deep, deep underground. 

you had to ignore the way your heart pounded a little faster and a little louder when his hand would gently touch your waist to catch your attention on a matter before he left. or the way his fingers would grace your own when he would take the boys’ stuff out of your hands. 

or hide the blush that laced your face when he would offer to hang out when he was back. or call you on his free days. you didn't have to say yes, maybe you really shouldn't have, to maintain a sense of independence and professionalism, but you said yes, because you wanted to. you wanted to so fucking bad. 

and you definitely had to stop feeling the small ounce of jealousy whenever you found a particular article of clothing that certainly belonged to a girl, scattered somewhere on the edge of the bed or near the back of the couch. not to mention, that one day you were met face to face by a girl in the kitchen, startled by your presence. you were about to explain yourself before william came out to introduce you to her. 

you could notice the way her eyes watched you with a layered sense of bothersome, and you couldn't help but smile. when she noticed the way william spoke to you, with joy and ease. words laced with love and gratitude. with the way he hugged you, in front of her, holding you against the stern build of his chest. his hands falling low, to the small of your back. he thanked you quietly and gently in your ear. not just for taking care of pablo and banksy, and loving them like him (if not more), but for being there for him. and with him. for making him smile. for being you. 

he did that often. 

—

you guys did your usual walk around the yorkville area. heading to the park and letting the boys roam around and enjoy their time together. you always stopped to let them smell and explore, it was their walk after all. 

you made it to the off-leash area, unhooking their leashes and closing the gate behind you, making sure no other pups escaped while you entered. the boys ran around, greeting other pups and engaging in playful games and fights. beau wasn’t too much of a social dog and easily gets overwhelmed, so after a few sniffs he makes his way back to you. he hops up on the bench that you were sitting and watching from. 

you gave him a few pets around the ears, “all done today, bubs? buen chico!” (good boy!) your phone then suddenly began to buzz in your pocket. 

standing up slightly to grab it, you see your mother’s picture on the screen. “hola mami” (hi mom) 

“mija, como estas?” (my daughter, how are you?) 

“bien mamá, estoy en el parque con los chuchitos. y tu y papi?” (i’m okay, just at the park with the dogs. how are you and dad?) 

“ay chavala, siempre estás en el parque, siempre con esos perros. cuando vas a encontrar un buen hombre mija, ah?” (you’re always at the park, and always with those dogs. when are you going to find a good man, huh?)

“mamá…” 

“william! siempre estás con ese william. y él? estás seguro de que solo cuidas a sus perritos?” (you’re always with william. what about him? are you sure you only take care of his dogs?)

“si, mamá. for the hundredth time, i'm just the dog walker.” 

“mhmm, y yo solo soy tu madre. y le has dicho que te gusta? no estoy diciendo que tengas que casarte con él mañana, pero—” (and i'm only your mom. have you told him that you like him? i'm not telling you to go marry him tomorrow but—)

“ay dios mío, mamá no estoy saliendo con william!” (oh my god, mom im not dating william!)

“entonces, por qué sientes que desearías estar saliendo con él? estoy segura de que a él también le gustas, nena.” (then why does it feel like you want to date him? i'm sure he likes you too, sweetie)

you play with your hair, standing up and turning to check on pablo and banksy, completely distracted by your mother’s interrogation. not like you should have been surprised, this isn't the first time. 

“okay. lo único que digo es que si no te arriesgas, el universo podría empujarte en la dirección correcta.” (im only saying, if you don't put yourself out there, the universe might just push you in the right direction)

“okay mamá, tengo que ir. te amo, cuidate.” (okay mom, i have to go. i love you, take care)

“te amo también, cariño. tu papá te llamará después del trabajo, vale?” (i love you too, sweetie. your dad will call you after work, okay?)

“okay, bye.”

only a single breath after your words, you find your foot slipping in a hidden patch of mud near a part of the fence. you go flying forwards, your phone tumbling down in front of you. you crunch the dry leaves on the floor and begin feeling the cold and moist ground under you. the dogs bark, coming to your face and sniffing all around you. banksy jumps on you, you gently push him down to allow yourself to get up as quickly as possible. 

this cannot be happening right now. 

groaning, covered in mud from knees to torso, you mumbled to yourself…“she cursed me”.

there weren’t many people inside the dog park at the time, that doesn’t mean you didn't feel a heavy wash of embarrassment flood over you. not to mention the fact that the people who did witness the accident didn’t offer a hand or ask if you were alright. perhaps because you leashed the dogs and left equally as quick as you fell. 

you walked all the way back to william’s apartment with a huge brown patch of dirt covering the entire front of your body. you kept your head low, and walked until you reached the comfort of the familiar sliding doors of the elevator. turning to look at the mirror behind you, you looked hilarious. 

the elevator opened and you unlocked willy’s door, letting the dogs free. you made sure to not step too far into the apartment, not wanting to make too much of a mess with your muddy shoes. you left them neatly in a corner, planning on cleaning them after you cleaned yourself up first. 

yes, you could have walked back to your apartment and gotten into your own shower. but you did not feel like walking another 10 blocks with eyes scattering towards you while you smelt like dog shit. because you did. since it probably was a mixture of both that you so beautifully chose to land on today.

william was supposed to make it home from a road trip sometime in the afternoon, so you knew you had time. plus, he had mentioned that you could use anything you wanted when you were over, “whatever you need” he assured you. anyways, you have stayed over at his place when he's been gone for long roadtrips, to ensure his boys eat well and are taken care of besides a walk. you knew the place like the back of your hand if you were being honest. hell, he’s even caught you singing to selena and dancing with the pups when he’s come home. 

did he join you? perhaps. he can't deny that he enjoyed the view. the domestic-ness of it all. it was always him & his dogs in the city they call home. but when was it going to grow by one? the one. 

that being said, you never actually used his shower before, going as far as stopping by at your own place to do anything like that. plus it allowed you to switch out the clothes you had packed. it was something you felt you should do, to establish those boundaries and solidify your professionalism. but right now, he would understand the situation that you were in. no, he wouldn't mind you assured yourself.

you walked into the bathroom, grabbing a plastic bag on your way over to put your clothes in so they wouldn’t dirty the floor. you got in, relishing in the welcoming drip of water, and awaiting the fresh and clean scent of soap. 

his body wash. it stood on the shelf before you grabbed it. the smell was intoxicating, as you poured it into your hands. it smelled like him everytime he passed by you after practice. everytime he left before a game. the days he's hugged you, the scent still lingering in his neck and his hair. 

it felt wrong. maybe you really should have gone home. but you were already in here. “its fine i’ll be done before he gets home.” you mumbled. 

clothes. what were you going to wear? no you couldn't possibly grab one of his hoodies and sweats. maybe you could put them in the washer. yes of course, thats what ill do… but what if he comes home by then? what will i wear? i’ll be naked!

you quickly scrubbed yourself clean, all over your legs and stomach, the dirt having transferred through your clothes and stained your skin. you could do this fast and he wouldn't even know you were in there. but then the door opened and you heard footsteps and waddles and happy whines coming from the dogs.

he's here. 

you heard him greet the dogs like usual, and could sense his figure getting closer towards the bathroom. he called out your name. 

ay dios mío, “in here!” 

“everything alright?” he asked, standing near a corner so that he couldn't see through his standing shower, respecting your privacy. 

“had a bit of a, um- muddy mess…” 

you heard him giggle, and you couldn’t help but feel a tad embarrassed again. he mentioned he saw your shoes at the door. 

“i’m sorry, i didn't really wanna walk all the way home like that. plus i'm pretty sure i fell in dog shit.” 

he shared a chuckle again. “that's okay, told you, whatever you need.”

you continued to rinse. “i’ll be done in a sec.” silence fell between the two of you but you could feel william hadn't moved from his spot. 

“do you want some help?” he asked. it could pass as a gentle, genuine and innocent question from the outside. but was it more layered than a friendly check in? oh most definitely. 

yes. yes. yes. “no i’m fine. i can manage.” 

another silence hit the air, but your mind was racing, and your mouth spoke before you had time to acknowledge that fact. 

“just, my clothes. need to wash them.” 

you heard the bag rattle from outside the shower. “could help if i rinse them under the water first” william says, tone calm and calculated. 

this between-the-lines conversation between the two of you was beginning to feel more real by the second. the feelings the two of you have for each other are beginning to get stronger and stronger. you didn't know how much longer you could rub it off. 

“is that okay?” he asked, the words like a spell lulling your rationality away. 

“yeah. thats okay.” more than okay. 

you hear a bit of shuffling before the shower door opens. your heart is racing, pounding in your ears. 

his eyes catch yours the second he makes his way inside. he makes sure to keep them there, never going down, not even if he wanted to. because he really wanted to. 

you're known to be such a poised person. presentable, confident and almost always at ease. but william makes you nervous, not like anything you’ve ever experienced. it's insane really. 

he inches closer to your figure, your clothes in his hand. you're backed up against the wall, noticing the way he's fully clothed. and the more he got closer to you the more his shirt started to get wet. and his pants and the ends of his hair. 

“willy” you mutter, soft and sweet. 

william had been fighting the urge to grab you by the hips and kiss you for two years now. a cruel amount of time really. “baby, can i?” he asks, quietly and gently. 

“mhmm” it comes out more whiney than you had anticipated. your composure completely lost. 

his lips connect with yours and they mold into each other like you’ve done it before. forming a rhythm together like it was habit. your hand dug into his hair, making a home at the nape of his neck. his body pressed into yours, your nipples hard against his cold wet shirt. you felt a shiver overcome you when his lips parted yours for a breath. 

“you pinche cabrón” (fucking asshole) 

“excuse me?” he asks playfully, with a smirk on his face. he knows the word, he's heard it plenty from you. 

“you made me wait that long?” you say, looking up and gaining a bit of your confidence back. 

“i made you wait? what about me?” he said, a smile on his face. 

“it's not my fault you didn't ask me earlier.”

“well i asked you now..” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in for another kiss. 

“you better show me what i've been missing for two years” you say against his lips, with a smirk.  

“oh älskling, you don't even know.” he says, looking down at you with his signature grin. you giggle back, god you're a sucker for him.  

he hangs your clothes over the gap of the shower door while you tug at his own. he pulls his shirt up and over his head looking down for the first time since he came in here. 

a part of him feels the need to look away, to give you your privacy, but as you stand there before him, your skin covered in water droplets, warm against his own, he can’t do anything but stare. he takes in the curve of your breasts and how the light coming into the shower softly hits your nipples. his hands feel their way down your body, caressing the curves of your hips. his hands continue making their way down, rubbing over your ass and squeezing the bottom of them. a hushed moan escapes you. 

“you're beautiful. truly beautiful.” he says, one of his hands reaching for the back of your head, making you look up at him and smile. blushing just a bit, you're not immune to his charm. you’ll never be. 

his finger comes up and wipes off a smudged mark of mud from your jaw. your fingers ache to reciprocate a touch, so you bring your hand to rake down his torso, feeling the tufts of hair that litter his chest all the way down to the lines that sculpt him. you can feel the heat radiating off of him, alluring and comforting. 

your fingers go for his pants button, willy looking down as you unbutton them and yank them down, along with his boxers. he helps kick them off, grabbing them and hanging them near your own. 

you really don’t know what else to do but stare. “bueno mierda” (well, fuck) you whisper subtly. 

he grabs your chin and tilts your head back up towards him, letting his lips meet yours once again. his arms wrap around your lower back, making you arch off the wall and press yourself against him. water fell through the cracks between the two of you. sliding over your body, you don't know how much it's masking the pool between your thighs.  

you try your best to buck your hips, trying to seek any friction against william, his cock getting hard against you making you spiral. sensing your neediness for a while now, he gives you one last kiss before making his way down, leaving a kiss between your boobs and one on the curved line below your stomach. you hear your heart beating in your ears again, equally as hard as the thud in your core. 

his mouth leaves a sloppy wet kiss right on your clit. “got such a pretty pussy, princess” 

“willy” you moan, he looks up at you with a smirk.

“what's wrong baby?” he asks sweetly, hands on the sides of your thighs. 

you give out a whimper, “please” 

“what do you want, älskling?” he wants to pry those words out of you.

“eat me.” por favor!!!!! 

“that's it, sweets.” he praises, not a single word said without that stupid smile. you keep feeling it against your folds, when his tongue licks a long stripe against your pussy. he groans at your taste doing it once again and again and again. you should be embarrassed by the way your thighs are shaking by his head, william in love with just how reactive you are to his touch. to him. 

“feel better, baby?” 

you internally scoff. “more” you mutter, jerking your hips. 

his smirk takes a bite out of your clit, rolling and sucking it. he moves back down, his tongue piercing your aching hole, his nose bumping into you, your eyes roll back. he was trying to be sweet, soft, gentle—he really was—but you, god, you drive him fucking crazy and all too quickly he's getting rough as he delivers hard sucks to your clit, mouthing at your pussy. your sweet sounds echoing in the small space, it's downright sinful that you could hear the way he's eating you out, even against the shower, the slurps and licks of a man starved ring in your ears.

his eyes flicker up to you to watch the way your face contorted in pleasure so gracefully. he's surrounded by your smell, the warmth of your thighs and your moans and he wouldn't want it any other way. you can't form a coherent thought, your mind is gone and all you can focus on is how good his tongue feels on you, how he eats you with such hunger, dedication and consideration no other man has taken the time to feed you. he lets you grind against his face, lets you use him for your pleasure.

“fuck!” you moan. the tight tug on his hair and your heavy breathing alerts william that you're close. moving his hands up to your hips, he pulls himself up, wasting no time to stick two fingers inside of you. you open your eyes and find his own, glowing with lust, and your lips part when you feel his cock lined up to your entrance, pushing in with one strong thrust. god, he slips all the way in. fills you up so full that you cry, stutter a sob, breath caught in the back of your throat. brain going cloudy, body melting into his and you question if this is real.

but then william grabs you by the ass to wrap your legs around his, pinning you to the cold tiled wall of the shower and you want his arms to keep you stable and grounded. one of his hands is glued to your side, the other kneading one of your breasts, pinching your nipple and making you bite your lip to suppress your moans. 

“you’re so tight, älskade” willy says, suppressing his own whimper. your walls contract around him as he speaks, as his mouth leaves kisses to your collarbone and teeth graze your pulse point. 

a few thrusts was all you needed. 

all you needed until a mumbling spanish mess escapes you. where your hands scratch into william’s shoulder and willy groans at the overwhelming grip you have on him, both inside and out. where your core is a warm and wet and snug nirvana. 

the water hitting you wakes you back up, helps you blink back into reality. held by your utopia, except the man in front of you is real this time, and not just the leading man of your dreams. the face you would pray for at a time you never thought that any of this could happen, that you could never be together.

you keep asking yourself what was that rule you felt you were breaking, when you look into his eyes now. sure, he was your employer, but what HR department can forbid this? when you are two grown adults in a mutual agreement with shared love for two poodle mixes. when the two of you bonded and understood each other more than some of the couples you would see out on the streets and at events. it wasn't pretend between the two of you. it never would be. how could it be? this is the realest thing that could be happening to someone. 

“been thinking about this the second i met you” he murmurs against your lips.

you whined again, pulling him closer with your arms, desperate for more. “then don’t stop”

his grin is contagious, you swear. and you can't help but giggle when he turns the water off and carries you all the way to the bed. throwing you gently on the mattress, letting his cock slip out of you momentarily. 

your wet curls flicker water droplets to your face and neck. william shakes his head and more fall off, each one falling on you. you’re a giggling mess, pushing him gently by the chest and telling him to stop. he shares a laugh, leaning in to kiss you for what seems like the millionth time in the past sequence you two have shared. and yet it's not enough. he needs more, to feel and taste every single crevice of you. love every single atom of your body.

his tongue licks the smeared wetness on your neck, leaving open mouth kisses on the droplets that remain untouched on your skin. your skin grows hot yet goosebumps appear one by one over your figure. the reaction your body has to him is confusing and exhilarating. william is caressing parts of yourself you hadn’t known existed, and each with little fuss. he moves, and you fall apart at the seams. he breathes, and you would crumble at his feet. he looks your way, and you are prepared to kneel at his altar. you get lost in the moment, in his mesmerizingly blue eyes and upturned mouth. 

he licks a stripe up your stomach and a shiver rolls over you. his mouth then attaches to one of your breasts and a gasp escapes you. he rolls it around in his mouth and sucks, reciprocating the action to the other one. your hand moves to the nape of his neck, sharing a light tug on the strands that sat there. “will” you whined, relishing in the movements of his mouth, however eager to feel him deep inside you again. 

“m’sorry sweets” he says, apologizing for his little sidequest. you were just so mesmerizing, he couldn't help but get distracted by you. you smile while he looks up at you. he grabs your hips and shifts you higher up the bed, so your head could lay near a pillow that he dragged down for you. 

he fits in between the slot of your open legs perfectly, leans down to greet your lips so swiftly, grabs the back of your thighs with grace and lifts them to sit on his shoulders with ease. “this okay, älskling?” 

“perfect” you reply, hands gripping his forearms tightly. slowly, he guides himself to your entrance again, rubbing the tip against your clit before swiping down and pushing in. he gives a good hearty thrust, making sure to bottom out, and your breath stutters. you will never get enough of the way he stretches you. 

your fingers move upwards on his arms, letting your nails gently graze him. you look up at him, memorizing every single crease and crevice on his body. he's licking his lips, watching the way your eyes explore him and your cheeks blush at him reciprocating the action. both of you engrossed by the idea of being together like this, while he's stuffed deep inside you, like your cum isnt all over his mouth and fingers and cock. 

will you two ever get enough of each other? no, you simply couldn’t. 

william leans into you more, feeling the way your thighs push into your body. his thrusts began to find a steady pace, one that feeds every single spongy part inside you. the sound of your pussy squelching fills your ears, followed by william’s soft moans, the grumble spilling into your open mouth as he lays a kiss. 

“goddamn sweets, hear how wet you are for me?”

a pathetic whine leaves your lips. the sounds coming from the two of you are so lewd but your toes curl and your head spins and your heart pounds and it's the best fucking feeling you have ever experienced in the world. 

you have never had a man take the time for you. make sure he reaches parts of your body that you weren’t even sure were there. now you know and you don’t ever want to go back.

“cariño” you moan, yanking at the chain that sits around his neck. you pull him down to you, biting down on his lips as you clench around and you hear a whimper escape him. 

the effect he has on you is the same as you have on him. the way you look up at him, with so much love and appreciation. like he is capable of giving you everything you have ever wanted, his heart cant help but swell. he cant help but make sure you feel that love back, cause fuck do you deserve it more than him sometimes. for everything you have ever done for him, for being undeniably you every single fucking day and giving him the priveledge to witness that as close as he has. he's been enamoured by you for so long, he didn't know what to do for much longer if he couldn't have you. 

as both your needs become more demanding, his hips begin to slap against yours. moans and whines slip past your lips before you can even begin to try and stop them, and you cry out as he continues to speed up. the noises he is drawing from your body are embarrassing if you didn't adore the way he feels inside of you to the point that you can think of nothing else. you wish to be like this as much as you can, full to the brim with his cock.

he begins to twitch inside you the more you begin to tighten around him. he even felt it hard to exit you with the way you squeezed him so hard, like you feared he would leave and never come back. he has never felt this deliciously overwhelmed. 

not too long after, you feel a warmth calm the pressure in your stomach, both of you having a sense of heavenly pleasure wash over you, one you both only dreamed of sharing together. one william would wake up in the morning to, cock hard and sore against his boxers. like he didn't have to act normal around you when you came to pick up the kids, but his cheeks couldn’t help but blush. 

“attagirl” he whispers in your ear, as you take all of his cum with open legs in one single final thrust. you blush at the feeling, at his words, at the fact that he has marked you, a silent call that you are his and he is yours and there's no looking back. 

he slides out of you, letting your legs fall slowly to the sides and wrapping his arms around your back, arching you off the bed and pulling you to sit in his lap. he moves the two of you so that he can sit against a pillow and his headboard. your lips connect with his, kissing as your conjoined cum begins to drip out of you and into william’s lap. 

you look back to see, and begin to feel a little shy, a ball of butterflies forming in your stomach, the ones that frequently visit you when you’re around will. you tuck your face into his neck scooting closer to him, wrapping your legs around his form. “you're so hot, baby” willy says, knowing his praise will make you feel less embarrassed by the crude site. 

little does he know his praise makes you all the more needy. 

you feel a desire deep in your core again, and you grind your wet pussy against his softening cock—a surge of confidence has come back to you. 

he gives out a little moan into your hair, hands moving to your hips where he squeezes. “you want more, älskade?” 

you bite your lip, “is that okay?” you can't get enough of him, sue me! you think to yourself. 

“i thought you'd never ask” he replies with a smirk, and you can't help but giggle back. 

you place your hands on his thick shoulders, letting yourself slide down onto him. both of you gasped, he went in so easy with your conjoined juices still around your walls. you rested there for a second, leaning your head back with a moan. you feel william twitch inside you, more sensitive to your core than before. 

“you’re so pretty like this,” willy mutters, slotting his lips over yours, “stuffed with my cock.”

“oh my god,” you quiver, shaking your head, begging for him to just shut up cause he’s making you lightheaded. he’s so deep inside of you, hitting that spot so far back that you so deliciously discovered today. his cock keeps twitching every now and then, forcing a pout onto your lips as he looks at you. you haven’t even moved and you feel so fucking close already.

you begin to roll your hips around, letting his pubic bone rub your clit every time you grind down. willliam’s hands move up your sides, cupping your boobs as they sway with your movements. he shares a whimper at the sight, as you start bouncing on him. though it isn’t much longer before your thighs begin to shake, already inching closer to that sweet release. 

willy wraps his hands around your frame, tightly pressing you into him as he lays down and thrusts up into you. you whimper repeatedly, body instinctively tightening, and he groans roughly, as if the way you clamp down around him is testing every last ounce of his control. 

as william’s thrusts get faster, they also get sloppier. he’s insanely pussydrunk and the only thing going through his mind is you. your name, how good you feel, how pretty you look. you're biting his neck as he pumps into you, sure you're seeing stars as the divine sting between your legs continues. 

you both don’t seem to last long, getting lost in each other once again. willy’s hand is in your hair, digging his fingertips deep into your scalp and yanking just a bit. his own thighs stutter and shake a bit as he cums into your already drenched cunt again. your pussy makes sure to milk every last drop from him as you needily bite another mark into his neck. you’ve wanted to mark him for so long now. 

now you can.

—

you lay against his pillows, the aftershocks still honey-sweet where they thud in your core. your legs still recovering from their jelly-like state as you have them sprawled out. william’s head resting on your propped up thigh. looking up at you while you played with his hair. he reciprocated the tender affection by rubbing small circles on your other thigh. 

he looked at you in awe. proud that he finally had succumbed to his love for you. that he didn't have to keep holding back, telling himself he couldn’t touch you, or kiss you, or spend every waking moment with you. that you didn't have to go home and leave him every time. he couldn’t stop thinking about you since the moment you were mentioned as an avid dog lover by his teammates, a recommended nanny for his boys. he couldn’t get over the way pablo and banksy were so loving and friendly with you on your first meeting and every single one thereafter. the way they would wait for you every single time. 

you are the one.

“when do you have to go?” you asked. 

“like 4 hours or so…” you liked that answer, smiling and running your hands through his hair again. even so, it wasn’t enough. this was your first taste of intimate, domestic life with willy. you didn't want to let go of it yet…. dreaming of staying in this apartment with him, not leaving until you’re left weak in the knees, reaching unwritten orgasm records. just all of it, you want all of it.

“can you wait till the very last minute?” 

“come with me. wear the jersey i got you and come with me.” the jersey in mention obviously being his own. you wore it to a game already once, and felt the tension with him when he came over to greet you after the game, the way his eyes hit yours and his hands lingered around you and the way his jaw seemed strained and tight every time he would see his name written on your back. you went home incredibly flustered that night, that you can admit.

“i can finally do what i was dying to do last time.” he says mischievously, your pussy throbbed at the thought. a thought you had since that night, and one your pathetic fingers couldn't have possibly held up to. 

“hm, but i was going to invite mi papa,” you joked, your purposeful mood killer. seeing the way he rolled his eyes and huffed. “he would love to see you, he loved the game last time.”

“another day, i promise. just not tonight, please.” he says, grabbing you by the hips and bringing you down the bed to reach eye to eye. his cock now tucked against your thigh, semi-soft. 

“fine, but he would have loved to see you guys fuck the bolts.” you both giggle. 

“you better win, by the way. or no extracurricular activities like you have planned out in that head.” 

“is that a threat?” his grin unsurprisingly present.

“you bet on it” you inch closer to his face, words spoken against his lips. “necesitas ganártelo, cariño.” (you need to earn it, honey) william understands your challenge.

“well i will, you can mark my words.” he says, giving your plushy hips a squeeze. his lips envelope yours in a series of kisses, arms wrapping around his neck. 

maybe this would have happened eventually—once you both stepped over this nonexistent barrier between the two of you—but god are you grateful that being covered in shit brought you to this bliss. 

…maybe your mom was right after all.

[ enjoyed reading? join my taglist! : click here <3 ]

[bonefall]

Update + Reply Bundle

Heyo all, it's been a while with some radio static and I've got a bundle of bits to reply to here!

If you're wondering where I've been, it's actually that things got MEGA busy on my end. Between the new year, a small promotion at work, getting a license to operate an X-ray machine for extremities (i have no idea how this happened man i have an applied science degree in dead people), learning some Java, and making travel plans to visit my partner overseas, it's been hectic but good.

But I ain't gonna pay it no mind, because every 6 months in queensland a man is torn apart by a crocodile the Warrior Cats never stops. I have also been passively ruminating on the Family Tree and keeping up with checking the inbox. Before I get to ShadowClan and the Glitch Warriors, I'll tackle all the other things.

SO reply time;

Changing Skies Reactions (On Moonpaw's sister being stillborn, the ShellFern cheating situation, etc)

The Flipclaw/Myrtlebloom Family Tree Fix plumthrift is soooo back

Other Fun Stuff (Which character should be allowed to say fuck. Names I'd like to use in other Clans.)

(NOTE; not addressing anything submitted about BB!ASC just yet, I want to put all my plans together first)

CHANGING SKIES REACTIONS

My honest feeling is that they don't know what a chimera is, BUT, I'm actually glad about that.

I would 100% rather they go with having her be possessed by a dead stillborn rather than them making her rare, ultimately harmless genetic quirk "the reason" why she's haunted. The stillborn haunting is the sort of concept I've come to accept in the setting (though I do have my critiques and reservations about another Evil Voice plotline, especially given the shitshow that was Splashstar in the last book of ASC), but there are DEEP layers to how messed up the implication of "zygote souls" would be.

Others have been joining into the convo in the meanwhile, tho. In essence, I agree with @mothdapple's thoughts on the subject. I hope the voice isn't wholly evil, and I hope that the haunting doesn't stem from her chimerism.

I'm betting that she gets a weird shipping moment with one of her cousins tbh. Especially if she survives this arc and doesn't become a medcat. You just know they'll open up the next arc with her and Sunkit being mates with 400 babies if you ship her with a girl too hard lmaooo

@dawn-sunlight

MANNNNN. You CANNOT convince me that I'm not correct about this at this point. The first 4 times it might have been coincidence, but they seem to have pinpoint accuracy for sinking popular LGBT headcanons and hetconning straight romance into old material.

That's Riverstar, Blossomfall, Ivypool, Leopardstar, Onestar (they replaced a firestar scene man), and now Thriftear and Flipclaw in one fell swoop?

Not to mention how everyone was joking around about "Old Woman Yuri" with Tawnypelt and Leafstar and then BAM, Sudden Crowfeather.

Like idk. Watch Barley get a super edition called Barley's Boo where it's revealed he once fell in love with a beautiful BloodClan she-cat who he had to leave behind, until it's revealed she's in WarriorClan now, so he leaves the barn to get her pregnant before dying. And also she's his first cousin.

That's a joke but if Apollo hits me with the dodgeball I hope he kills me in 1 hit

THE FLIPCLAW/MYRTLEBLOOM FAMILY TREE FIX

thank god. This is actually an extremely easy fix for me, now. All the pre-emptive cleaning I've done for the BB!ThunderClan family tree has paid off.

I Don't Rewrite Arcs Until They're Done, BUT, I have discussed the previous options at length before and how I intend to fix it. If you're reading along but need to catch up on the convo and context, follow these links in order,

Summary and Intro: BB!ThunderClan and the Propositions (ShellFern, StormCherry, FlipBay, or PlumThrift)

Anon ShellFern argument

Anon StormCherry argument

Hypokit Moonpaw Designs for All Four Options

Phantom of the Opera FlipBay Moonpaw

StormCherry Voter who changed their mind for FlipBay or PlumThrift

All caught up? Nice.

PlumThrift is sooooo back. It's basically what they've shown in the first book of CS. Soccer moms and their weird ass kid who they're desperately pushing to be an overachiever LET'S GOO. The most likely thing that will happen is that Moonpaw is a PlumThrift kitten-- unless something big changes.

(Though I am a little bit saddened that I can't do the cool Phantom of the Opera mask thing which came from Bayshine... unless Moon was honor sired, of course. Or maybe adopted. Hmm...)

For Oakkit, Sunkit, and Hazelkit though, I'm leaning towards what anon mentioned. Their canon parents are Myrtlebloom/Flipclaw, so it would be very easy for me to change to FlipBay because of my pre-emptive fixes. It'll match canon, and I have also grown fond of the idea of the two silly dads.

(plus then it's extra easy to have Moonpaw come from the first surrogated litter which was for PlumThrift to raise, and the second litter is for FlipBay. Biologically full siblings, socially cousins.)

That said, there's still a small chance they get shuffled over to ShellFern. Or, more radically, I might end up sending them over to StormCherry. If that doesn't happen though, don't worry, I'm still keeping Honeyfur and Leafshade in my back pocket in case there's no other opportunities to give them kids.

I will say this for certain though-- PlumThrift BB!Moonpaw would never have full siblings. She will be the only child they ever raise. If the canon parents ever have another litter, they would immediately get shuffled to FlipBay or someone else.

Sunbeam's kittens are, of course, Finchlight's. im punting that other thing into RiverClan. GIT.

OTHER FUN STUFF

I do actually want more mushroom names broadly, because sapient cats would actually be REALLY interested in fungi. I'd even say they'd be more interested in them than flowers. A lot of edible fungi have a chemical compound that makes them smell and taste like meat, so imo, they should be kind of like natural snacks or treats you can find while out and about.

Kinda like how humans have fruit, a culture of cats would have mushrooms. I plan on researching and writing a VERY elaborate mushroom guide at some point explaining this all in-depth (which I will be going thru my little "rolladex" of artists to illustrate it, when it's time), so I don't want to dive into the details just yet.

But in terms of names...

Something I wish I'd been able to do more of is weird, hard-to-translate prefixes. Scents that humans overlook, more time-related names about seasons or crepuscular events, categories of birds and invertebrates, etc.

Petricorfur, Prey-scent-tail, Arionbelly (a particularly large slug for eating), Rascalheart (a particularly feisty bit of prey that gives you a good chase), Thermalhawk (a thermal is a rising wind that allows birds of prey to soar more easily) etc.

If I was going back and scrounging up Glitch Warriors for other Clans, or just generally shaking up the prefixes, I would add names with these "themes" into each Clan;

Thunder: Sweet things and more wood-related terms Nectar, Drupe, Sap, Pith, Grain, bark textures like Fissure, Scale, Tessel.

River: More aquatic animal terms, poetic imagery, and "beautiful" things Caddis, Cray, Salmon, Roe, Mussel, Pearl, Dazzle, Twirl, Dance, Sway, Mirror (for the state of water when it's absolutely calm).

Wind: Sounds, events around the time of birth Bellow, Hiss, Roar, Crackle, Swale (if born around the time of a muirburn), Journey (if born out of camp), Drowsy (for a long birth)

Shadow: Mushrooms, wetland terms, fermentation effects, names that might otherwise sound like insults to other Clans Cake, Candle, Jelly, Parasol, Elf, Sphagnum, Gas, Drake (male duck), Muck, Peat, Bog, Fizzle, Bubble, Rot, Blight, Gnat, etc.

Sky: Cars and Suburban Terms Truck, Bike, Cycle, Wheel, Asphalt, Lawn, Fence, Board, Shingle, etc.

I also really want to put Vetch in someplace. It's a pretty normal and common kind of flower, I just think the name is neat.

@angelinelitalady

Firestar's Quest Chapter 5: "ARE YOU TELLING ME SKYCLAN HAD TO LEAVE BECAUSE THERE WEREN'T ENOUGH FUCKING TREES????"

Canon? I will never not answer Bumble, you're going to have to give me two guns to ask this kind of question because there isn't a version of me in any nearby timelines that would say anyone except Bumble. It should be a rocket launcher, actually. We need to give her the nuclear codes. In BB I'd give it to Spotty. It would be REALLY funny. 25% of the story is preventing the rise of TigerClan and the other 75% of the story is taking the gun away from her.

HAPPY LUNAR NEW YEAR ALSO! IT'S SNAKE TIME BABEYYYY

@magewolf-the-artist

Do it! Go ahead! I can put it over in the Fan-Fanart post if you'd like. I should really make a section there for written art, too.

Everything about BB and everything WC-related I put on this blog is open source, from Clanmew, to plot threads, to Clan Culture, etc. PLEASE reference what you'd like if you're inspired by anything you see here!

The only thing I ask is that you keep that spirit of mutual collaboration alive. If you add onto Clanmew, allow others to reference it too. Talk about your thought processes. Encourage people to be inspired by what you did and make versions of their own. That's the beauty of fandom.

My end-game goal is for BB to result in a "skeleton" of chapter-by-chapter notes, the sort of thing you would hand to a ghost writer, so that it's essentially bones that anyone could take and write out themselves. This will take a looooong time because it's more about me having fun along the way, so if you want to write something, go ahead!

Never, never worry about "getting something wrong." You can change things, you can grow as a writer with time, wisdom, and practice. The worst piece of art is a piece that is never made.

[mygnolia]

take care of him, sunghoon's sick!

or alt. the pt 2 no one asked for... LOL

pairing: sunghoon x gn!reader headcannons! | wc: 800 | cw: food, sunghoon as a SIMPPP lots of kisses and cuddling

—

sunghoon does his best not to get sick whatsoever 

he’s an athlete and a student, if he gets sick he falls behind on a LOT 

but when he saw you in his puffer jacket and a smile at his competition, ofc he had to kiss you 

you were his one and only and he loves you to death 

simphoon! 

smiling ear to ear on the drive home as you tell him how cool he always looks on the ice

he gets SHY 

wdym his baby is complimenting him profusely 

you two  make food together, and although you’re still congested, you promise sunghoon you feel much better. 

makes soup and noodles 

yes he hugs you from behind yes he rests his chin on the top of your head 

the man is 5’11 (and i’m 5’4 mmmm how perfect)

one kiss leads to another kiss and suddenly you’re giggling from the ticklish feeling and how he’s annunciating every “mwah!” 

kisses all over your face 

he snuggles with you on the couch when you eat, and actually cuddles you this time 

“Someone’s clingy,” you joke, and he buries his head in your neck. “But it’s okay. I like it.” 

hoon is all blush blush

“It’s been a long time, I missed you,” HE’S SO POUTY AND BABIE 

You two definitely fall asleep with a light on, his legs tangled with yours, his hand around your waist holding you close. 

Uh oh!

Sore throat. 

“I think you got me sick.” You apologize like crazy, rushing to make him some egg drop soup and tea

“Shhh, Hoon, go back to bed, let me take care of you” 

oh the man is WHIPPED head over HEELS he’s like omg what did I do in my past life to get someone as caring as ____ 

He’s also whiny, and kind of quiet

he is a thinker and a listener so when he’s sick, he’s even less inclined to talk or be his usual rambunctious self 

It makes you feel bad for putting your boyfriend in such a miserable position 

But he promised you it’s not your fault (even though it is) and that it’s not as bad as you think it is 

no more feeling bad! You have to make sure sunghoon recovers as quick as he can 

You separate medicine into little containers and makes sure he always leaves with warm tea, cough drops, gloves, and any medication if he needs 

You drive him whenever, 1. because he is ur passenger princess! and 2. because you don’t want him to be stuck in traffic when tired

Always Always getting him layers 

and now it’s your turn to refuse his kisses and hugs. 

“____ I want to cuddle.” 

You shake your head, a smile threatening to break your stoicism. “You’re sick, baby. You don’t want to get me sick again, do you?” 

“But I miss you :(“ oh he definitely is following you around the house like a puppy trying to get you to give him forehead kisses and that sweet sweet tlc. 

He sends you voicemails when you’re busy telling you “hi baby i’m at home still are you still coming over today?” violent coughing “i mizz u and i wuv u”

AGH so whipped for this boy im…

you come over with more soup and cuddles and love 

he falls asleep halfway through his movie and you have to check his forehead to make sure he’s not having a fever 

dishes are CLEANED everything is put away and then you go sleep on the couch

now lets say the couch is huge and there is space for two 

WELL sunghoon wakes up in the middle of the night and sees you’re not in bed :(( so he goes out to the living space with his blanket and then just falls asleep on you 

and you wake up like wtf i cannot breathe??? 

but oh it’s just hoonie bb its okay 

HES SOOOOO CUTEEE 

messy hair covering his forehead and eyes as he sleeps on your shoulder, hot breath fanning your neck 

you just stay there until the afternoon because you could not try to untangle yourself even if you tried 

but he’s better! at least he says so 

he feels a lot more energetic, is attending practice for longer periods of time and more frequently, and you see the sparkle in his eyes again 

YAYYYY BB HOON IS RECOVEREDDDDDD 

you still dote on him until he’s completely better because you truly want to make sure he’s not overworking himself

agh he WILL marry you he will put a ring on your finger and boom you two have a white picket fence and two dogs and a cat. 

—

hello it’s me ren again 🤓 mmmwah i love hoon

[eobe]

Mermay 2025 🪸🌊 Mikkian Eo would be a great anemone ✨ I think it was gorgeous @feral-ferrule who gave me that picture, so thank you for inspiring me! 🫶

I indulged 5- and a half hours of meditative painting 🫠 One rough sketch, no refs, only one brush (named Oberon from the basic brush kit of Procreate, my favorite for coloring) and I just let it grow like the corals and sea grass on the reef do 🥰 I‘m a little sea creature myself, so I feel this very much 🩵 I hope you like it!

Have some close ups:

I love the chalky structure my fav brush makes 🫠 And I love Neptune grass (Posidonia oceania). Every picture or video of it waving in the water makes me breathe deeper ✨ Did you know it’s protected species?

Monet is one of my favorite artists by the way (Yeeess cliché, but the atmospheres he created *happy sigh*) I thought of his work while doing the corals ☺️ Ou! And I also love everything about Atlantis 🩵✨ Sunken statues and all the topics and lessons that come with that whole philosophy, legend and mystery 🥰

I could never ever be finished tinkering at the details of a face when it comes to a bigger brush 🙈 It’s like polishing a stone but with the difference, that I hunt for a perfection, that I not even want to achieve. I only want to do better and then – in the middle of imperfection – there is that moment where I look at it and know „This is it. It‘s fine now.“ Not perfect, but if I would continue, it would not get better, but worse instead 😂

For feeling completely blocked at the moment a painting is maybe just else. Drawing is lines, but painting is just color and I can layer all the imperfection, insecurities and struggles in form of colored brush strokes layer over layer until the whole picture builds itself – to look at it and go like „Hey, I made a thing. And it’s a good thing.“ ☺️

Thank you for reading my ramble too 😹🫶

Taglist: @eclec-tech @lonewolflupe @bixlasagna @returnofthepineapple @sunshinesdaydream @covert1ntrovert @vrycurious @dystopicjumpsuit @chaicilatte @ladylucksrogue @spaceyjessa @freesia-writes

OC tags 🫶 my bb @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf and my precious vode @ghostymarni @wings-and-beskargam

🫶 @foxwithadarkside also inspired me – like so often, thank you 🥰

[elliespassagerprincess]

I am absolutely OBSESSED with your reader x professor Ellie stuff. Would it be possible to get a more in depth thing about reader’s experience breastfeeding Aurora and Arnold (and the next bb)? I would be interested to hear more of Ellie’s thoughts on the matter/ hear about more scenarios. For example reader being worried about having to nurse in public, or feeling insecure when she leaks. Then obviously Ellie would be there to reassure and support. Perhaps also some Ellie perspective when reader’s milk first comes in? Maybe a little nsfw?

Do as you please. It’s all been so wonderful.🙏🙏🙏

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

warning: NSFW content! MDNI 18+

☆ You were confident during pregnancy, but postpartum? Your body felt like a stranger again—engorged, leaky, raw.

☆ Leaking made you feel unkempt, especially around Ellie’s academic colleagues or during campus visits.

☆ You wore black layers and always carried spare pads, but it didn’t stop the anxiety.

☆ Ellie noticed the way you'd hunch your shoulders or hide behind your hair when you soaked through.

☆ She began kissing each soaked patch before helping you change. “Proof you’re magic,” she’d murmur.

☆ You once cried quietly because milk dripped onto one of her signed copies of a random book Ellie just said, “Now it’s worth more.”

☆ You hated the way your breasts felt overly full and sensitive. Ellie massaged them gently to relieve you without asking for anything in return.

☆ She’d whisper poetry while you hand-expressed: “Your body writes verses in milk and ache.”

☆ You once broke down, saying, “I feel gross,” and Ellie cupped your face like you were sacred.

☆ She bought you six soft robes and told you you’d never need a bra at home again.

☆ Ellie convinced you to look in the mirror while nursing. “See her?” she said. “She’s the strongest woman I know.”

☆ You feared leaking during faculty dinners. Ellie would plan exits ahead of time “just in case” so you didn’t have to panic.

☆ The first time you leaked in front of a friend, you wanted to run. Ellie just said, “Happens to goddesses.”

☆ She called your milk “holy” like it was scripture.

☆ Ellie wrote an entire short poem about the moment your milk arrived. It was framed in her office.

☆ She never let you feel alone in it—she stayed up for every nighttime latch, whispering affirmations.

☆ When you confessed that you missed your old body, Ellie said, “This version brought Aurora and Arnold into the world. She’s my favorite.”

☆ Even when you leaked on her lap while cuddling—Ellie grinned. “Free heat.”

☆ Eventually, your insecurity softened—not because of your body changing, but because of how Ellie treated it like a treasure.

☆ First public feed? At a university café. You were panicking inside.

☆ Ellie sat behind you protectively, shielding you from view.

☆ She glared daggers at any gawking undergrads, practically daring them to speak.

☆ A student said something stupid once. Ellie assigned The Politics of the Female Body the next class.

☆ You used to feel guilty about feeding at events. Ellie would correct you: “You’re not disrupting. You’re nurturing.”

☆ She got in the habit of scanning for quiet corners, comfy benches, and mom-friendly seating.

☆ Ellie designed a whole breastfeeding-friendly corner in her university office for you when you visited with Arnold.

☆ She started carrying nursing covers, extra pads, and a lavender handkerchief just for you.

☆ Aurora proudly told a stranger once: “My mommy makes milk!” Ellie nearly choked laughing.

☆ Ellie made sure you never felt like an inconvenience when you said, “He’s hungry again.”

☆ She would stand behind you in lines at bookstores, shielding you with her body while you latched Arnold under a scarf.

☆ If anyone even glanced weirdly, she’d say something like: “He’s eating. What’s your excuse?”

☆ You once had to feed during a poetry reading—Ellie made it a metaphor for feminine power during the discussion.

☆ You were nervous feeding Arnold during Aurora’s preschool pick-up. Ellie started bringing decaf coffee for you both so you could nurse in the car.

☆ She never once saw it as something to hide—only something to admire.

☆ When your milk first came in, Ellie saw your nipples darken and your breasts swell before you did—her fascination was immediate.

☆ She kept touching you gently, reverently—like something was blooming under your skin.

☆ When your milk first leaked, you cried from the discomfort—Ellie held you through it all, wiping you clean like it was sacred.

☆ She kissed the drips from your chest like honey.

☆ The first latch was hard. Arnold didn’t take immediately; he wasn't as easy as Aurora. Ellie helped you position him, hand trembling with reverence.

☆ You hated the fullness at first. Ellie started offering warm compresses and back rubs between feeds.

☆ She memorized your letdown cues: the little flinch, the catch in your breath, the arch in your back.

☆ Ellie told you your milk coming in was her “favorite milestone.”

☆ Ellie can’t look at you nursing without her pupils dilating.

☆ She pretends to be reading but always ends up watching you.

☆ Her favorite place is beside you, one hand on your thigh, the other trailing your breast as Arnold nurses.

☆ After feedings, she kisses the droplets left behind like they’re ambrosia.

☆ You once caught her slipping a finger into your nursing bra mid-hug.

☆ If you ever say “I’m full,” she shivers. Every. Time.

☆ She gets possessive of your milk. “That’s mine, too,” she says, half-joking, half-serious.

☆ She’s begged to nurse from you during foreplay. Multiple times. You let her once. The way she moaned into your chest should’ve been illegal.

☆ She calls your body “fertile and divine” during sex.

☆ She likes pinning you down after feeds—still milk-slick, breasts heavy, skin sensitive.

☆ Ellie has a kink for you wearing wet, milk-stained shirts. She won’t admit it, but you know.

☆ She asks if you’re leaking just so she can press her mouth over the spot.

☆ She once licked milk off your collarbone with her eyes closed, groaning like it was wine.

☆ You fed Arnold before bed and she pulled you aside to finish the job, with her mouth.

☆ You’ve had sex with a breast pump still attached. Ellie called it “performance art.”

☆ Sometimes she whispers, “Let me have it,” while trailing kisses down your ribs.

☆ You’ve woken up to her gently suckling in her sleep. It shocked you, until it turned you on.

☆ Ellie finds your postpartum body more attractive than ever. “You’ve never been more real,” she says.

☆ You had sex in the rocking chair once, after a feed, when you were still dripping.

☆ She gets off knowing your body’s still making food after orgasms.

☆ She asks if you need to “relieve some pressure” mid-makeout just to get access.

☆ If you’re sore, she offers her mouth. “Let me help,” she begs.

☆ She’s made you climax just from nipple play during a milk-heavy moment.

☆ Arnold is greedy, loud, and demanding. Ellie says, “Takes after me.”

☆ Aurora sometimes “reads” to Arnold while you feed him, mimicking Ellie’s storytelling voice.

☆ Arnold will only fall asleep mid-feed if Ellie’s touching your leg or arm nearby.

☆ Aurora once asked, “Will Mama make milk forever?” Ellie smiled. “In different ways, yeah.”

☆ Ellie says she fell in love with you again while watching you nurse both of her children.

☆ Arnold has a habit of unlatching and spraying you—Ellie laughs every time, calling it “chaotic milk energy.”

☆ You once fed Arnold while rocking Aurora during a tantrum. Ellie said, “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

[thebookbutterfly]

Hey there! Could you possibly write a Sandor Clegane x gender neutral reader where Sandor has a soft spot for reader and reader feels the same? He tries to hide it but one day reader get’s hurt and he patches them up and maybe confessions come out?

🦋 Little Bird— Sandor Clegane x gn!Reader

Summary: You get injured in an ambush. Sandor carries you to safety and takes care of you.

Tags: #so much hurt/comfort, #a teensy bit of angst, #fluffy ending, #potentially OOC Sandor Clegane but personally I think he is pretty baby girl, #request

Warnings: Gender Neutral, no use of Y/N, descriptions of blood and injury, mentions of death, cannon compliant threats of violence, no beta and no ‘ragrets' [1,371 words]

AN: This is a request by @agender-wolfie. I really hope that this is what you were looking for! It came out a bit longer than I intended, but I am such a sucker for hurt/comfort tropes I really shouldn’t be surprised lmao. I wrote this all in one sitting and I haven’t done any editing so please excuse any errors. Happy reading! 🦋 Love BB

If you like this work my requests are currently open! So please give me your ideas ;)

You hissed a curse, gravelly and threadbare, as Sandor sidestepped another fallen tree.

A jumble of vulgar expressions that barely registered to you as they left your mouth. Almost all of them taught to you by the giant man holding you to his chest. The hound cradled you surprisingly gently, but his tension was evident. It was written all over him.

His scarred face, which you so rarely got the opportunity to study, was pulled into a broken grimace. The rest of him taut like a wire ready to snap beneath his armour. If you weren’t bleeding all over him, you might have reached up to prod the furrow of his brow. A silly attempt to smooth away Sandor’s permanent scowl.

The thought shattered as another wave pain tore through your ribs. Every bump in the path sowing fresh agony in the ruined skin and muscle.

Sandor ran a calloused thumb over the side of your knee in apology. Uttering clumsy noises of comfort as he picked up the pace.

“We’re almost there. Hold on just a bit longer, little bird.”

His gruff voice was cut with a noticeable amount of panic. Your brow scrunched at the unusual sound. You had gotten used to many things about Sandor as you travelled North with him. His rough sense of humour, bitter attitude, scarred face and huge stature were familiar to you by now. Underneath those things, his kindness and his softheartedness had become apparent to you too.

All the vulnerable pieces of himself that he smothered and choked beneath layers of vulgar humour and recklessness, had been presented to you in glimpses as you got to know him. But panic? Panic was new to you.

The farmhouse that Sandor had marked out in the distance finally drew into view. Up close it was a measly grey thing. The stone masonry looked haphazard at best but its chimney puffed with life. Behind it a barn lay with its doors open and rattling in the freezing wind.

You expected Sandor to head straight for the shelter of the barn but instead he strode to the front door. The family of four, seated around the dining room table inside, scrambled back as he slammed open the door with his usual subtlety. Which was to say— none at all.

You groaned as the sudden movement jostled your wound. Normally you would have chastised him for being so rude but your head was swimming. Too weak to lift your hand, you focused your energy on your eyes. Willing them to stay open, if not for your sake then for the sake of your worried companion.

An old man stepped forward to speak but Sandor cut him off, “One of you better be a healer, because if they die I will mount all of your heads outside on sticks.”

It was an ugly threat and they paled. The youngest boy whimpered looking suddenly ill. A younger woman with dark hair and a generous smattering of freckles stepped forward. She gestured a slightly shaky hand towards the table before him, before turning to her family.

“Clear the table, quickly. We can lay them down here,” her attention shifted back to the massive man standing in the doorway, “I’m not a healer by profession but I’ll do everything I can.”

Sandor seemed pleased enough by this answer. The rest of the family had been wise enough not to put up a fight and so Sandor stepped forward. He eased his grip and lay you down on the hastily cleared surface.

He moved to step away and let this stranger do her work but you whimpered. Fingertips clutching at air until he shifted back into reach.

A leather belt was stuffed between your teeth as your tunic was torn up the side. Unfamiliar hands grasped at your arms and legs. Holding you down with a bruising grip. All the while, Sandor brushed his bloodied fingers over your forehead and through your hair. The warmth of his skin a small consolation for the pain you were about to endure.

The woman lifted a needle and thread. With a glance at Sandor and his affirming nod she began to count down and you closed your eyes, unable to look.

Three.

Two.

One.

Fire. Your body was on fire. You arched off the table. Trying to escape the agony, the needle slowly piecing your flesh back together. The table shook as you thrashed but the hands holding you down didn’t falter. Sandor’s gravely words of comfort were the last things ringing in your ears as the world went black.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first thing that you noticed when you woke up was the lack of pain. Your side still ached, the wound tender, but it was a dull throbbing now. No longer, the screaming torture it was as Sandor carried you away from where you were ambushed.

The second was the warmth. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been this warm since you and Sandor had journeyed across the border into the North. Sandor.

You opened your eyes slowly. The lighting was dim but from what you could tell you were inside the barn. The door was closed now though and soft orange candlelight illuminated the space.

You lay on your good side underneath a thick layer of blankets, and next to you lay the man your eyes sought for. His arm tucked you to him, large calloused hand resting somewhere on your lower back.

His heart thudded rhythmically beneath where your head lay on his chest. His even breathing and faint snores filled the quiet. Despite your inner protests it was the most comfortable you had been in years.

You gazed up at him, not wanting to wake him just yet. Sandor didn’t sleep nearly enough and you were content to watch the way the candlelight danced across his skin. It caught on his scarred cheek. Shadows flickering on the panes of his face.

Unable to resist you lifted a hand to his cheek. Your touch was featherlight but his eyes snapped open. Sandor’s gaze flicked to you immediately. Scanning you for distress and finding none, his body relaxed.

“Seven Hells, I thought you were going to die. Never do that again,” he said gruffly. His cheeks were flushed but he made no move to shift away from you.

Your voice was cracked from screaming but you still managed to mumble, “M’Sorry.”

Sandor sighed, “It wasn’t your fault, little bird.” He reached into his pack and pulled out a water-skein. Unscrewing the top he held it out towards you.

“Here, drink. Then you can go back to sleep,” he said.

“Thank you.”

The moisture eased the pain in your throat and soon you were snuggled back up under Sandor’s arm. The wind howled through the rafters and you both sat in silence for a little while.

Your thoughts broke the quiet, “Thank you for carrying me here. Thank you for staying.”

Sandor’s eyes met yours, they were unguarded and soft in a way that seemed reserved for you. Reserved for these conversations in the dark.

His voice was low as he replied, “I would have carried you to the ends of the earth, little bird.”

You studied him, the scars that mottled his skin, the cut on his brow and the curl of his mouth. Something deep within you settled, like a cat stretching out on a rug.

“You’re a good man, Sandor Clegane,” you said.

The conviction in your voice hit him harder than any blow on the battlefield ever had. The tidal wave of emotions that followed threatened to take him under but he swallowed them down.

You pretended not to notice his watery eyes and he lifted his spare hand to stroke your head. “Go to sleep, I’ll keep you safe.”

You nodded sleepily, too tired to fight it off any longer. A few seconds pass before you feel it. The soft press of his lips on your forehead. They linger there for a while before he pulls back, the warmth that they leave behind searing like a brand on your skin. You smile as you drift off, lulled to sleep by his warm embrace and steady breathing.

“Goodnight, little bird.”

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR 4 - ( c.s )

part three

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- cursing, slightly suggestive MEOW

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: PART FOUR! i promise u guys are not ready for what’s coming next 🫨 thank u to everyone who’s been reading along i love u all so very much!! my inbox is always open and i hope ur having a wonderful day (also doesn’t that first pic look so much like chris i screamed)

@cutenote @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @breeloveschris @l9vesick @bb-1s-blog @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @annamcdonalds67 @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @luckistar-posts @angelworldspost @ponyosturniolo @rainyenthusiastdaze @cupidsword @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @mattswrld @yoursopretty15 @poopydroopt @latinasforchrizz @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @hearts4chris @rubyjaneaxx @reallykaz @sturnlvrs

“wow, someone looks extra hot tonight.” cassidy comments as she walks into your room, which is laughable coming from her.

she’s an angel, literally glowing in her multi-colored halter. you swear you shop at the same places, and yet she somehow always finds the gems.

“god, says you.” you joke, unable to keep a straight face as you stand up from your desk.

but you’re all done up too, dressed in a red tube top and some black jeans that flare out a little, hugging your hips just right. and yeah, you’re a bit smug knowing that you’re going to chris’s party looking extra great, but you embrace the post-pregame confidence.

“are you sure you want to go? we really don’t have to.” cass asks as you pass by her into the upstairs hallway.

“i mean, why not? i can never turn down free alcohol.” you shrug, and it’s part of the truth.

paying for yourself at the bar is never as fun, and the chances of somebody buying your drinks is usually slim. plus it’s on shithead’s tab tonight, which makes it that much sweeter.

“i totally agree. i just…” her smile falters a little, and she sighs, “i just don’t want you to get hurt or anything.”

it makes you pause, hearing her say that. you’d ended up talking to both of your roommates after chris came knocking on your bedroom door, and they’d been rightfully wary of his excuse.

but her words kind of confirm your worries; that chris is someone to be feared, someone to keep at a distance. like you won’t be able to resist the charm.

like you’ll fall.

“he can’t hurt me if i don’t let him.” you reply, and you’re not sure if you’re trying to convince her or yourself.

“okay, i won’t push it. i know you’re tough, but i can’t help but check in.” cass nods at you before you head down the stairs.

“i appreciate it, but i’m good, so let’s go get bombed.” you’re grinning again, still buzzing from the two drinks you’d finished while doing your makeup.

ramona is already downstairs, bopping along to the beat of the music she has playing on the tv. she’s midway through a shot of tequila as you round the corner to the kitchen, swallowing so she can bite down on a slice of lime with her free hand.

you and cassidy both chuckle at the grimace that passes over her face.

“you ready party animal?” cass teases.

“always.” she replies once she’s calm, placing the tiny glass into the sink before screwing the cap back onto the bottle of alcohol.

each of you shove your old beat up shoes onto your feet, and mona turns off the television seconds after. you can still feel the bass vibrating, but you know it’s coming from the house beside you, which makes your heart jump into your throat.

you walk out the door, one behind the other like a row of ducks as you trample through the thin layer of snow from a few days prior.

tonight, you can tell chris has his own mix on, because you recognize the yeat song that’s currently playing. you’ve always liked his taste more than the others.

you’ll never admit that to him, though.

it’s way louder now that you’re up close, and you can literally feel the party raging. ramona leads the pack, stepping inside and swinging the door open for the rest of you.

the darkness swallows you once you step inside, but your eyes adjust quickly. you recognize some people as you shift through the crowd, regulars who are usually here and a couple of guys on the team.

you try not to look for chris, instead choosing to focus on the back of ramona’s head while you guys shuffle to the kitchen for drinks. there’s a few people chatting as you step through the archway, one of them being ben. his sandy blonde hair is pushed away from his face, and he smiles at your arrival.

“hey there neighbors!” he greets each of you guys with a side hug, clearly already drunk even though it’s only eleven.

you just thank god he set his cup down, because you know he would have spilled it all over.

“benjamin, always a pleasure.” cassidy laughs at his slightly sloppy demeanor.

“chris is gonna be really happy.” ben shoots a smirk your direction, and you roll your eyes, opting to move to the bottles of cheap vodka on the counter.

“i really don’t care.” you snark, pouring a hefty bit of alcohol into your cup before setting the handle back down.

“feisty tonight, woah!” he holds his hands up in surrender.

your friends follow close behind, making their own drinks and pouring them equally as strong.

“where’s your girl, benny? haven’t seen her around in a minute.” ramona asks with a small smile, clearly trying to change the subject.

“she’s out at the bar. girls night or something.” ben shrugs as you add some sprite to your drink and take a sip.

it’s extremely bitter even with the mixer, but you choke it down and deal with the burn. you’re still not tipsy enough, so you’re playing catch-up to try and reach the level you want to be at.

mona nods at this as she slides back up next to you, cassidy joining moments later when she’s done making her drink.

“well, tell her to come around soon, i miss her.” she requests.

“i miss her too, i’ll pass the message along.” ben points a finger at her like he’s locking in a promise, loopy grin morphing his features.

“alright, we’re going to dance, but i’m sure we’ll see you later.” cass waves her free hand goodbye before you all make your way back into the masses, shoving your way into the living room.

it’s pretty packed tonight, as usual, and a sheen layer of sweat already covers your skin. you run a hand through your hair while cassidy meshes into the crowd, making enough room for you guys to move around.

bodies bump against yours as you all dance to the music together, sipping your drinks and laughing at each other’s silly moves. you swear you’ve seen connor now too, and yet you still haven’t spotted chris.

you suppose this is a good thing, because the sensation of being inebriated is only just beginning to wash over your body, and you don’t want to deal with him sober.

so you dance, and drink, and dance and drink some more, letting the hazy lights illuminate you as you bop around with your friends.

you’re knocking back the last of your fifth beverage of the night when you feel someone come up behind you, hand snaking to hold your waist gently. your first assumption is chris, and your heart leaps into your throat, but you’re wrong.

it’s a guy you don’t recognize. his black tapered hair is a mess on his head as he gazes at you hungrily.

“dance with me?” he asks over the music.

cassidy and ramona are seconds away from stepping in, but you shake your head at them to indicate you’re fine. for once, you don’t really mind being hit on, especially because he’s kind of cute and you’re definitely drunk.

it’s not like it means anything anyways.

so you back up slightly, his front flush against your spine as you move your hips, rolling them into his own.

your friends grin devilishly as the two of you sway together, so close it almost feels like you’re one person. his hand presses flat against your stomach, holding you so he can feel the friction of your ass grinding against him.

you swear it’s only been a second before the crowd parts slightly, revealing a pissed-off looking chris as he barrels his way past the other people in the living room. his eyes are ablaze, and he yanks you away from the mystery man the second he’s close enough.

“get lost, jamie.” he snaps at the boy you were with, whose eyes are wide in fear now.

he must be an underclassman then, because he scurries away instantly, too scared to stand his ground against the captain of the team and the host of the party.

“what the fuck, chris? i was having fun.” you cross your arms over your chest, slurring ever so slightly as you glare at him.

he doesn’t respond to this; instead, his chest heaves like he just ran a marathon, and his dark gaze trails up and down your body. he grabs your wrist and tugs you toward the staircase without a reply.

your friends watch in awe as he drags you away, though neither of them bother to interfere. they’re swallowed by the swarm moments later, and your stomach flips at the fact that they’re gone.

it’s just you and him now.

the foyer blurs by as you reach the stairs, and you nearly stumble trying to keep up with his pace. you’ve only just made it to the privacy of the upstairs hall when chris drops your arm, whirling around to face you.

“what is wrong with you?”

your mouth falls open slightly at his tone, at how animalistic he looks standing before you, blocking you against the wall. his white shirt is unbuttoned slightly, and you can smell that fucking dior on him.

“what the hell does that mean?” you retaliate, already flushed in anger.

“i didn’t even know you could dance like that, let alone with my teammate.” chris snarls.

“everyone can dance, and i had no idea he was on the team. it’s not like you were talking to me anyways.” you stand your ground, meeting his judgmental gaze head on.

“did you want me to?”

“i mean, you’re the one who invited me to this stupid party, so i kind of expected to at least see you.” you tell him truthfully, and you know it’s the alcohol talking now.

“one second you hate me and the next you’re angry i’m not giving you attention. i can’t figure you out, and it drives me fucking crazy.” he continues to stare down at you in frustration, glancing between your eyes and your lips.

you hate how fast your heart is slamming against your ribcage. every time he’s this close to you it’s like the air is sucked out of the room. you can’t even breathe.

“why did you really pull me away, chris?” you ask quietly.

you already know the answer, but you want to hear him say it out loud for once.

“because you should only be moving that pretty ass of yours against me.” his voice is low, and he takes a step forward.

you cancel out his movement, completely backed up against the wall now. he can’t help but let his eyes roam down to your chest, to your exposed cleavage.

you’ve been taunting him all night, though you weren’t even aware. chris has just been watching you in your element, staying to himself and letting you do your thing with your friends for a bit.

after his last conversation with you he felt like maybe he should back off, but then seeing you with somebody else was even worse. it shouldn’t be this way, he shouldn’t be so fucking obsessed so soon.

but you’re looking at him with those wide eyes, soft lips parted, and there’s no way to resist. one hand travels to the back of your neck and the other grabs at your waist, pulling you into his own hips as he smashes his mouth to yours.

it’s somehow even more passionate than the first time, messy and rough, how you both like it most. chris bites down on your bottom lip as he pulls away a minute later, kissing your cheek and jaw, then down your neck.

his cold fingers make their way underneath the hem of your shirt as you feel his teeth close down on the sensitive skin. a strangled moan escapes your mouth before you can bite it back.

“i like that sound a lot, princess.” he says into your ear before his lips focus on that hollow sweet spot you love so much.

you know he’s going to leave a mark, but it feels so good you don’t care. yet you choke down the whimper you feel crawling up, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of hearing how much you like it.

“c’mon, i know you want to.” he mumbles against your throat, and you can literally feel him smirking.

arrogant bastard. two can play at this game.

you put your hands on his chest so you can drive him backwards into the opposite wall. he’s surprised by you taking the lead, and you press your body flat against his, connecting your mouths roughly once more.

chris’s hands roam to grip your ass, a delicious pressure that you shouldn’t enjoy so much. your fingers nimbly travel to the waist of his jeans, and you feel his body tense under your touch.

you can’t help but grin into his lips as you move your hand lower, underneath the band of his boxers, grazing the warm skin of his hip tantalizingly slow.

you shift your focus to his own neck, sucking harshly and running your tongue over his skin until you finally hear him groan, a noise that you relish. his fingers dig into your flesh harder, and you can feel him grind against your thigh.

but you already got what you wanted, so you break away and take a step backwards. the shock on chris’s face after your abrupt departure is clear, his lips raw and hair tousled.

“and you had the nerve to imply that i’m the one who wanted this.” you smile and shake your head, making a move toward the stairs.

“you’re seriously just going to leave?” he asks in disbelief, which makes you turn.

“what did you think was going to happen, chris?” you smirk, tucking a stray hair behind your ear before swiping your thumb along your bottom lip.

his own mouth slowly turns up as he stares at you with a certain kind of ferocity in his eyes, adjusting his shirt and running a hand through his messy hair.

“nothing, i guess. but whatever we didn’t get to will happen eventually, you know.”

“no, it won’t.” you reply, a bit too quickly to be convincing.

“i think it will. who knows, maybe next time you’ll let me use my mouth somewhere else.” chris says lowly, hand ghosting across your hip as he passes by you, looking over his shoulder at you with an expression of self-satisfaction.

then he heads back down the stairs, vanishing around the corner like nothing had even happened.

days ago you were swearing up and down that you’d never kiss him again, that nothing would happen. and now you’re standing alone in his house while the music thumps, knees weak and breathing heavy with a hickey on your neck.

the scariest part of all is that you’re still craving more, even though you don’t want to.

[asce-of-hearts]

I got a little bit drunk when I thought about it! izuku was the one teasing you about being wet for him as he started fingering you and kissing down your neck with shoto at your other side dry humpimg against you whispering how much they love, how cute you look all embarrassed mewling underneath them. they’re slowly removing clothes leaving small kisses every time they do worshipping your body head to toe. now, they’re start to go lower kissing down your thighs whispering how good you are to them as izuku runs his hands all over you waist reaching up to tease and toying with your nipple and pressing his lips against your stomach, he so gently and using his fingers to toy with your underwear sliding it down in a single motion never stopping his kissing, keeping his eyes on you the whole time. while shoto kisses you neck still leaving hickeys when he does whispering into your ear that makes you squirm, it was long before Izuku starts to eat you out <33

-🦊

Devouring

Content: Some nice Deku character analysis/smut/something ohyeah

A/N: I wrote only Deku bb because I feel like I suck at writing poly aaaa. Also I'm sorry I tarnished ur erotic dream and turned into a sort of character exploration I'm pretentions and u know it ily foxy

more Deku content here

TAG LIST

WARNINGS: ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP (INTERPRET IT AS HOWEVER YOU'D LIKE, ALTHOUGH VERY IMPLIED TO BE MARRIAGE), BODY WORSHIP, FEM!READER, SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT, ORAL (RECIEVING), SOME BREEDING KINK AS USUAL HEHE HOHO, SIZE KINK, I LOVE U IZUKU MY SWEET GENTLE MAN.

His touches are always reverent.

A scholar at heart, a researcher, Izuku doesn't know how to touch you in any other way that doesn't feel like both being worshiped and examined, like he's sizing you up to eat you alive and devour you hole. The sensation has a strange feeling to it, always lingering between the thin line of creeping you out and arousing you. His hands, usually gloved, can't escape the layer of callus that covers them, as time passes it has become more coarse, rougher, harder. The hands of a boy left behind, replaced by those of a man. With decorative veins that pop up every time he flexes, or moves, or does anything. You can't help but stare, at how his arms wrap around your waist in the morning, or when he helps you open a particularly tight jar. He's handsome, has become more handsome over time. A skinny teenager replaced by a big, beefy man. It's like he grew thrice his size from one moment to another.

The gentle giant you called your lover had his moments of roughness. You can recall a time he pinned you against the bed and pounded you so hard you had to cling to the headboard so you wouldn't loose your mind. You had bruises on your hips after, and again, reverent hands came to soothe them as he bathed you. You could count instances like this with your fingers, rough sex wasn't the favorite flavor of love making for either of you, much less for him, who knowing his strength, always has this worm in his brain telling him that if he touches you wrong he will break you in a million tiny pieces. A thousand tiny yous that will run around his feet and then disappear in a psychedelic mass of blood, guts and pink cartoon hearts.

And you're always a little wet for him, he knows it. He knows that whenever you two share a bed in the comfort of your home, he can snake his hand downwards and will find your heat welcoming and inviting, damp and ready to take what's given. That he will be able to whisper sweet nothings in your ear as his hands toy with your clit, pinching it softly, rolling it, rubbing it with the hardened pads of his gargantuan digits. And you will gasp softly, clinging to his neck, or his shirt as you let him continue his ministrations, your hips from time to time bucking forward to get more friction, friction he's happy to provide. Stimulation he will gladly give to you on a silver platter. His voice, sultry and gentle, will come to whisper the filthiest words and the sweetest praises. "My precious girl, look how wet you are already." He'll say, kissing the shell of your ear, making you gasp as his free hand rubs your hips, keeping you steady as his thumb circles your clit, and his other fingers rub at the soft, puffy folds of your pretty cunt, asking for permission, which you unspokenly provide. "Want me to take care of you, yeah?"

"Please, Izu, please..." You will mewl under him, the driest chuckle leaving his lips, kisses peppered to your neck as you don't need to ask twice. He sticks them in, slowly, gently, letting you adjust to the stretch, the sting of the intrusion. He'll ease the pain by whispering more, my making you want more of him.

"Can you feel how hard I am already?" He will ask, hips pushing forward to press his hardened length, with it's greedy 10 inches, twenty five dot four centimeters, the one's he's so proud of, poking against the soft, plump skin of your ass under his trousers. "It's your fault, my love. You make me like this... I'm already leaking like a faucet," He turns you around, fingers leaving your insides as he sprawls you over the bed, facing you. He takes his time, popping one of your nipples in his warm mouth, suckling at it like a man starved, biting and then soothing the sting with a practiced lick, then a trail of kisses travels downwards, to your stomach, where he'll stay a moment. "You would look so pretty with a baby inside you, my baby." He smiles, that smile you know and love, bright, making his big eyes crinkle at the corners. "With my freckles, and your face... We will have such pretty kids," He says, lovingly, and then, he goes down. And he doesn't waste time, his tongue, pressed flat, licks all over the line of your slit, stopping at your clit to suck. "But first... first I have to get you ready... and enjoy you all to myself for a while." He murmurs, voice muffled as he starts to eat you out like a man starved. Greedy, sloppy, never stopping the incessant want he has for your cunt, his favorite meal, the one place he would be happy to die in. In that second he isn't a hero, or a man, he's your devoted lover, the only one who can do this sort of stuff to you.

The only one who can make you cum with his tongue in record time.

"Now let's see if I can get my girl to cum in less than a minute this time..." He grins, eyes darkening for a moment as you mewl when he sucks at your clit again, pulling at his hair. "As a personal challenge, of course." He winks at you, pressing a kiss to your puffy folds.

"I have to get selfish from time to time."

kishimoto i will never forgive you for that ending. we deserved beefy hero izuku. sleep with one eye open mf

hope you enjoyed this!!!!!!!

have a great day/night

TAGGING: @jessicainhell @pasteldaze @duchessofhell85 @kalopsia-sonder @sunnymmoon

@repostingmyfavs @artist-in-training-wheels @goldenglow149 @hbk99450 @stranger00001

@delicatelycraftedbambi @rania200527 @kitzusune @aki-sazuki @stardustdreamersisi

@coolnekochan9961 @notreallyablogger @skeletonblush  @needylittleprince @ayn-yurbestie

@oliviathatgirl @lacey @hannas16 @xxj0rd13xx @animeprotanganist

@janeisnotonline @architectofsuffering

Want to know when I release another fic? Join the TAG LIST

[kleine-joost]

Sweet Dream 18+ MDNI

Ski Aggu x AFAB!Reader

WARNINGS: THIS IS SMUT!! THIS IS RPF!! IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ THAT JUST MOVE ON PLS AND THX uuhh also piv sex, unprotected sex, a little masturbation but its light

a/n: this is due to @spentandpent 's horny ramblings, thank u bb xx

WC: 1.4k

You woke up discovering that the fatigue hadn’t left your bones overnight like you hoped. You let out a groan into the quiet, still room and looked to your left. August was still asleep beside you, his hair awry and his lips parted ever so slightly, letting out tiny snores on every exhale.

You recalled the dream you had just before you woke up. A memory? Sort of. More like an amalgamation of all the best parts of the man next to you. His hands, his big hands, his arms, strong arms, the thin spread of blond hair across his body… Your core ached for him the more you thought of him and what he’d do to you. You were practically drooling lost in the daydream.

You body was beginning to feel warmer and warmer, your skin sheened with a light layer of sweat as you breathing became more and more laboured. You couldn’t stop yourself from bucking your hips for any kind of friction between you and your underwear.

Without thought, one of your hands slowly began caressing your body. Over your thighs and hips, stomach and stopping briefly the massage your breast, your core was pulsing with how worked up you had gotten yourself. 

You slipped one hand into your panties, gently stroking over your lips. You sighed, you wished it was your boyfriend’s hand, but you knew he needed the sleep. 

You pressed two fingers onto your clit, clenching your jaw to keep quiet and pressing your head back into your pillow as far as you could for some kind of release from the pleasure.

Gently, you began to stroke back and forth, back and forth, collecting the slick from your hole as you went. There was something spurring you one, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, perhaps it was the haste of it, you felt like a teenager just trying to get off as quick as possible, or maybe it was the fact that the object of your desire was laying right next to you and none the wiser to what you were doing to yourself.

You couldn’t help the strangled groan that erupted from your throat as you slipped in the two fingers, now slick and slippery. It wasn’t quite enough, you were used to…larger hands…but you’d just have to make do. You slowly pumped in and out of your cunt, desperately chasing the high you needed so bad. 

You didn’t realise you had an audience, Aggu woke to the sounds of the mattresses springs and your heavy breathing. He watched as you groped your chest, pumping in and out faster. He could tell just how needy you were, a whining, blubbering mess.

“Need some help, Schatz?” His voice was still croaky from just waking up. You jumped at the sound, slowing your hand and looking at him.

He had a look in his eye you couldn’t place, but the smirk across his mouth told you everything you needed to know. You silently nodded.

“Here, let me…” He shuffled closer to you, grabbing your hand and removing it from your underwear.

You watched in awe as he pulled your hand up to his mouth, letting your fingers lie on his tongue as his lips encased them. His tongue circled your fingertips, lapping up all the slick still on them. You practically could’ve cum right then as he moaned at the taste of you, eyes closed and fully treasuring it.

You slipped your fingers from between his lips, core still trembling.

“P-please, baby…” You whispered, face pressing into his shoulder.

“Please what? What do you want, Liebe?” He always was such a tease.

You groaned in frustration, hooking one leg over his body. “Please help me cum, Baby, I need you.”

He smiled, running one hand up your leg, resting it just below your ass. “How do you want it?”

Your mind was almost too overstimulated with the thoughts of Aggu. You stuttered for a moment. He gently placed a hand on your head, smoothing down your hair and giving you a quiet ‘hmm?’.

“Wanna ride you,” you answered in a quiet tone, your voice so timid he thought you’d just about shatter.

In a brief second, he’d pushed you to his chest and rolled onto his back so you were straddling his hips. He placed deliberate, wet kisses down your neck and onto your shoulder and roughly kneaded the fat of your ass. You could feel he was already half-hard, rubbing against your folds.

You palmed him through his boxers, eliciting a devilish moan that sent shockwaves through your chest as he continued to suck bruises across your tits.

You were feeling lightheaded, you could barely think. All you wanted was August.

Your hand slowly made its way under his waistband. His skin was hot, burning even, and you could feel his muscles recoil from your sudden touch. You softly ran your hand up and down his length, spreading his precum as you went. Before your hand could cramp, you removed it from his boxers. He tried to let out a groan at the loss of touch, but you cut him off with a gentle kiss. 

“Please fuck me,” you whispered in a tone, that had it been from anyone but you, he would’ve found pathetic, but from you it just made him even harder.

You both quickly shimmied out of your pajamas–well, underwear, it was a hot summer night the night before and your room could not get cool enough to warrant any actual clothes–throwing them somewhere in the expanse of the room, before you returned to straddling him.

You hovered above him on your knees as he rubbed his pulsing, pink tip against your slick. You tentatively lowered down on his cock, stretching your hole out with every inch you sunk further and further down.

He softly whispered in your ear as you adjust to his girth, so quiet you can’t actually make out what he’s saying but the sentiment is enough to get you through.

After a few moments of breathing, you began to move. Just slightly at first, rocking back and forth for any friction you could get. Aggu barely blinked, watching your face contort in the effort it took to move with your tired legs.

You tried to move up and down his cock as best you could, only the sounds of skin could be heard in the room. But it wasn’t enough for you to get even close to that high you desperately craved, and Aggu knew it.

“Here, Hase, let me help you.” He sat up, planting his hands firmly on your hips and helping you move up and down.

With the newfound speed you couldn’t help the small mews that left your mouth as he hit that spot inside of you that made you see stars. He began to meet you halfway, driving upwards, until each thrust had you breathless and babbling.

The air in the room was hot, and your skin quickly became sticky. You were so lost in the feeling, you didn’t even realise your hand had involuntarily snaked to your clit, rubbing messy circles and increasing the pleasure tenfold.

You were hurtling towards your orgasm that you wanted so badly. And if Aggu’s groans were anything to go by, he wasn’t far off either. It became a race to the finish line, though more as if you were on the same team. 

The slapping of skin and deep moans revolved around the room in a cacophony of ecstasy as you felt all the muscles in your stomach snap and your skin gain goosebumps all over, gushing over Aggu’s cock.

You could just about hear him over the ringing in your ears as he continued to plough into you, strangled breaths and beads of sweat running down his face and neck. “Almost there, Schatz…Almost there…”

You gently bounced to meet his thrusts, your pussy overstimulated and pulsing, which only spurred him on more.

With one final thrust, he slowed. His eyes closed and mouth agape, you watched him as he released into you.

He caught his breath and looked at you, a dumbfound smile on his face. “You’re so perfect, Schatz.”

You let out a giggle from deep within your chest, slowly sliding off of him and laying back down on the mattress. You tried to ignore the feeling of the mixture of both of your fluids slowly dripping out of you–that was a problem you could fix later. For now, you could just lay together in the warmth of the room.

[crow-raven-crow]

Hey it's me again 👋 the one who asked for Donna Beneviento.

I know she's a shy babe and mostly in the fics I see her like sub?But I can't get enough to see her other side.We want it! We need it!

Can you do something like reader's been teasing her extremely (clothes,talks, actions,etc..) knowing she will only turn red but r seem to pushes her a little too far and ended up facing dominant Donna? Like punish sex and maybe aftercare.

Thanks for reading

-BB 🤍

𝐁𝐞 𝐀 𝐃𝐨𝐥𝐥..

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 - [𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝟏𝟖+]

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐟!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: ~2.8k 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: fluff, established relationship, NSFW, dom!Donnna, sub!Reader, teasing, pinning, marking, scratching, begging kink, slight degradation, slighting biting, oral sex, vaginal fingering, edging paired with slight orgasm denial, alludes to future sex

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: see above

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

AO3 link in title ✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

You pulled the key from the door as you stepped inside, a soft creak emitting from the hinges as the heavy door swung open, revealing the foyer. You guided your hand out slowly, gesturing the doll maker inside as you held the door open for her. Your shared laughter echoed through the halls, absorbing themselves within your shared home.

The golden glow emanating from the candles that hung on the chandelier casted an enchanting light within the home, bringing out the deep mahogany of the polished wood that made up most of the home. The age of the home brought a comfort out within it, the wood absorbing the flickering flames and creating a warmth that served as a refuge from the snow that sat beyond the walls.

Once the door shut behind you, your gaze met Lady Beneviento's, the spark found swirling within them making a smile creep onto your lips. Her veil was already discarded to the side and her hands were held out in front of her expectantly. You stood for a moment, blinking in confusion as you took in the sight of her before you. Her soft laugh broke the silence before she stepped behind you and smoother her hands up your sides and to your shoulders, filling your body with a newfound heat. "Your coat, amore mio.."

Her fingers worked themselves underneath the layer of fabric, gently pulling the coat from your shoulders and handing it on the rack behind her. You grabbed one of her hands as she turned around, pulling her slowly over to you before meeting her lips in a sweet kiss. You felt her relax under your touch, the dinner you both had just been at fading away from her mind as she relished in the safety that you brought to her.

Pulling her from her trance, you guided her into the living room. As you backed away, you watched how she took in each of your movements - the sway of your hips, the effortless grace of your arms, the never ending smile that sat upon your face. To her, each aspect was a manifestation of beauty, causing her heart to swell with admiration for you.

Shifting the pin of the record player made a small gasp leave her lips, the familiar sound of her favorite song starting to play filling the manor. The notes shifted through the air as you came back to her, the satisfaction in her figure mirroring the joy found within her eyes.

"I figured it would be nice to end off a nice dinner with a dance, if you'll have me?" Your hands traced a gentle path up her dress, massaging her shoulders before wrapping your arms around her, successfully pulling her in and starting off the small sways.

"Such a doll for me, hmm?"

"I try."

Soft laughter bubbled from your chests, the love found within you two creating a lightness in the room. Her arms circled around your waist, drawing you closer. Her fingers scaled a tantalizing path down your body, completely away for the garments you showed her beneath the thin fabric only house earlier. The room, though charged with affection, carried the increasing weight of desire as the two of you continued to dance.

~~

You had called her into the bathroom, the black dress you wanted to wear hanging just behind you as you finished off your makeup. As you put away the various products, you rose from the vanity seat, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you heard the click of her heels get closer and closer. It added a sense of anticipation to the air, each step echoing a promise of a tease for her, a promise of the sweet surprise you had for her.

"You called, am-" Her steps came to an abrupt halt, seemingly frozen in the doorway as her eyes raked in your exposed figure. The choice of dark green lace was a deliberate one, allowing one of her favorite colors to swirl around your skin. The lace, starting from secure straps, gradually faded out, growing thinner yet framing your breasts and hips perfectly. Your paired it with matching garters, deciding that stockings would add a nice touch given the dress's slit, which teasingly exposed your legs. You saw the desire starting to burn behind her eyes, and you knew you had gone with the right choice.

"Cat got your tongue, my lady?" Your tone was laced in a tease, being sure to add a sway to your hips as you slowly made your way over to her. Your hands found their place on her hips, your eyes drinking in the slight of her as she was already ready for the dinner ahead of you. Tracing a hand up her figure, you made a slow path between her breasts, along one of her collarbones, and delicately along the column of her throat, easily pulling a shiver from her. You rested a finger underneath her chin, tilting her head slight to meet your gaze. "Or am I just as much of a distraction as I planned to be?"

"Wh-Whats-" She cleared her throat, focusing all the energy within her to not break your gaze, "What's the occasion, doll?"

"Oh, nothing.." You brought your lips to her ear, whispering before littering kisses down her neck. "Just wanted you to know exactly what was underneath my dress while we sit for hours at dinner.."

You quickly pulled away, bringing any and all traces of yourself against her with you, before grabbing your dress and presenting it to her. "Could you help me put it on?"

She took it from your fingers while giving you a nod, undoing the zipper along the back as you turned around. She pulled it over your head, being sure that your arms could easily go through the thick straps of the dress before pulling the rest of it down your body. Her fingers lingered against your hips underneath the fabric, the cool touch against your skin making a small shiver shoot through you. You felt as she took hold of the zipper, slowly pulling it up and covering the skin that only she was allowed sight of, before resting her hands back against your hips.

"Thank you, my love.. Are you ready to leave?" You turned around in her hold, a smile coming to your lips before you kissed her own.

~~

Small chatter turned into a comfortable silence, though there was still an undercurrent of excitement coursing between you two. She lifted her arm up above you, your hand in hers, and prompted you to spin. You did, or attempted to do so, but your heel got caught on a bump in the carpet beneath you. Within the moment, the misstep led to a tumble, and you found yourselves on the floor, laughter filling the room as a blush rose to both of your faces.

You landed on top of her, her arms wrapped securely around you to prevent you from getting hurt. After the laughing had died down, you pulled yourself up a bit, kissing up her neck before planting a soft one against her lips. The blush against her cheeks deepened at your actions, a wave of heat running through both of your bodies as the desire in the room only grew.

You watched as her eyes moved against your form, moving from your dark painted lips, to your dress straps falling off your shoulders, to the sight of your breasts pushing beyond the fabric of your dress - the fall pulling your dress down and uncovering more of your skin. You brought your lips down to her ear, the warmth of your breath traveling against her skin as you spoke, "Like what you see, my lady?"

Maybe it was the suggestive tone of your voice, the pull of your dress, the teasing actions that had been building for hours, but it all caused something within her to snap. The grip she had on your hips tightened as you finished your sentence, causing your breath to hitch, but it didn't prepare you for the other side of the doll maker that you were about to face.

Within an instant, your back was against the floor, hands pinned above you by your wrists as one of her knees settled between your legs. You looked up at her in shock, though it easily morphed into an expression of desire as her lips trailed up your neck, leaving lingering kisses and mirroring the action you had done just moments before. The heat of her breath coursed around your neck while her other hand traveled along your body, pulling fabric out of the way, squeezing and scratching your skin in the claim to be hers.

"You're right.. I do love what I see.." Her voice was low, thick with the lust and desire that had been swirling within her for hours. It didn't falter, didn't stutter as she spoke, a newfound dominance running through her veins and driving her actions. It made a delicious heat begin to pool between your legs. "I think it's just about time you've been taught a lesson.. Isn't that right, doll?"

Your breath hitched, her words making your thighs shut in an attempt to gain some sort of friction, only to make you let out a loud whimper when her knee prevented such. You watched as she pulled away, her lips turning into a smirk as she watch you wreath beneath her. She brought her lips to yours but didn't indulge you in a kiss just yet. They ghosted above yours, mere centimeters apart as she spoke against your lips, "I could get used to a view like this.."

You could only image what you looked like beneath her - shocked, flushed, filled with desire, desperate.. Desperate for her, her touch, her lips, her tongue.. A part of you loved that she enjoyed it, causing a raging flame to ignite inside of you.

You tried pushing yourself up to meet her lips, only for her to pull away at the last second. Amusement filled her features, a wonderful darkness filtering over her eyes that made your core throb. She slowly made her way back to your lips, resting just above them. The close proximity always seemed to make your heart race, the organ hammering in your chest hard enough that you were sure she could feel it against her own. Her perfume made you dizzy with lust, only adding to your arousal as she took over all of your senses. Your voice was breathy, lost in your throat, just above a whisper as you spoke, as you begged for her. "Please, Donna… please-"

She crashed her lips into yours, finally giving you the beginnings of what your craved, stealing all the breath from your lungs and devouring the moans and whimpers that escaped your throat. You felt her tongue brush against your bottom lip only for her to take your bottom lip between her teeth, pulling it as she backed away slightly.

The look of pure desire she was throwing at you only mirrored your own - dark eyes fluttered against each others features behind half lidded eyes, cheeks and chests flushed a pink hue, chests heaving to catch breaths that were willingly stolen away..

Her lips met yours again, but only for a few moments. They trailed down your jawline, plump lips meeting your neck and leaving deep marks against it. You threw your head back as a moan tore through your throat, your back arching as you felt her fingers rubbing against your clit above the fabric of your undergarments.

She continued to kiss down your body, her hands letting go of your wrists and allowing your hands to immediately meet her shoulders. A growl left her throat as she met the fabric of your dress, annoyed with the barrier between her and the rest of the body. She moved quickly, picking you up and bringing you up the stairs to your shared bedroom as one of her hands worked on the zipper of your dress.

The door slammed shut behind her, your body quickly landing on the bed as she pulled the dress off of you. You backed up until your hands met the pillows behind you, watching as the goddess pulled her own dress of her body.

Her pale skin was illuminated by the moon, her body shining in beauty before you. She took her place back above you, hands running along the edges of your lace bra before her lips met your collar bones again.

You were getting drunk on her as she hands smoothed over any and all of your skin. She teeth nipped at your skin, tongue soothing over the marks after pulling away. One of her hands made their way to your back, unclasping your bra and tossing it somewhere within the room.

Her tongue traced over your right bud, making your back arch, only for her to take it in her mouth moments later. Her other hand toyed with the other, smoothing over the bug until both were in stiff peaks. She littered marks across your chest, making sure to give the other bud the same amount of attention before moving kissing down your stomach.

You felt her hand back at your core, her touch light enough against the fabric that it was purely a tease. You bucked your hips slightly, only for her to bite your thigh in response, trailing her tongue over it right after. She did this again and again until she thought you were going to behave, her lips planting a kiss against your mound before she slowly started pulling the fabric down your legs.

She worked at an agonizingly slow pace, lips kissing down one leg and up the other before you felt her tongue lick through your folds. The action made you take in a sharp breath, only for it to get lost in the moan that tore through you. She worked her tongue in and out of you, collecting your juices and moaning at the taste, the vibrations shooting through your body and making a familiar knot form in your lower abdomen.

Your fingers dug into the sheets beneath you as she took hold of your thighs, locking your hips in place as her tongue licked up your slit, only to start circling your clit immediately after. You felt one of her hands shift along your leg, the touch moving underneath your thigh before nimble fingers circled your entrance.

They dipped into your core, the stretch quickly turning into a dangerous pleasure as they pumped in and out of you. They curled in a way that made you see stars, brushing against the spongey spot within you and making moans spill from your lips with ease. Your body burned for her touch, your walls clenching around her fingers and making her groan at the feeling of you.

Her fingers picked up speed, her lips wrapping themselves around your sensitive bud and sucking at the same time. You felt your thighs begin to shake with your impending orgasm, the coil within you tightening a dangerous amount only for you to be left on a high.

She stilled her actions, kissing down your thighs while she looked up at you. Your breathing was heavy, your breasts rising and falling with each intake as you tried to ground yourself from a peak that was taken from you. Just as you were about to speak, her tongue circled your clit again, her fingers moving at a brutal pace as she aimed to give you what you oh so craved..

With every thrust of her fingers you were pushed harder and harder against towards the edge. You felt your mind grow hazy with desire, the amount of lust coursing through you making you putty in ecstasy's hold.

Your knuckled turned white at your hard grip on the sheets, your throat growing sore as she pulled loud moans and whimpers from your chest, her pace never slowing.

Your thighs shook on either side of her head, your climax slamming into you and making you moan out her name. Your body shuddered with the wave of pleasure that consumed you as she helped you rise out for first orgasm of the night.

She gently pulled her fingers from your core, your half lidded eyes watching her taker her fingers into her mouth and lick them clean. Her lips trailed up your body, the gentle touch of her lips making your heart soar before she met your own.

When she pulled away, her eyes met your own, desire still prominent within them. "Don't think for a second that I am done with you tonight, amore mio.."

~~

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐚/𝐧: OKAYYY?? OKAAYYYY AHHAHAH this served as a reawakening of my RE8 brainrot and i dont know what to do this was so fun holy fuck but also holy fuck? 😏

first donna fic done teehee. i might write for her more because she is such a beautiful character, but like all the lords of RE8 i wish they did so much more with them. there is so much backstory and lore missing and i just NEED a whole game or something released just for them. you cant make these characters interesting as hell and only give us crumbs when it comes to their lore

i loved playing around with this side of donna. she is so quiet and shy within the game that it's always interesting for me to see how she can be portrayed

i hope you all liked it! I'm sorry it took me a hot minute to get here, lovely anon;; but i really enjoyed writing this one

xx,

~ 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: (tagged anyone who asked/wanted to be on the "all works" taglist)

@autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @finnja555 @barbarasstar @vendocrap8008 @gwendolinechristieiscute @lilfartbox1 @agathaandgwenslesbian @lvinhs @elvira-dear @kimiinou @ladybathoryy

ask to be added if you'd like

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

[bonefall]

Ok, im back with more names. The bog was hard to find, so I’m basing it off of the area of Carrington Moss, which is in the area I think BB takes place if I’m reading the maps right

Also bc we’re talking about Shadowclan

Ok, so the names

First of all: Fen, Bog, Mire, and Peat, all names for this biome. There’s also marls, a rock found in the area

Again, I’ll only be using names I don’t remember being in the series (the obvious one being moss. It’s all moss)

Asphodel (bog asphodel), rosemary (bog rosemary), cranberry, cotton (cotton sedge), blackberry, bluebell, foxglove, iris, a plant called Mad-dog weed, also known as a water-plantain, admiral (red admiral), pipit (meadow pipit), partridge (gray partridge, but very rare) bullfinch, and bunting (reed bunting)

Close but you're a bit off-- Carrington Moss is, confusingly, an example of a moorland!

Specifically it is a lowland peat bog. Upland peat, lowland peat, blanket bog, dune heath, upland heath, lowland heath, maritime heath... all of these biomes are completely different, but all of them are referred to as moorlands.

Also, those names for the biome are not interchangeable. Those all have more specific meanings;

Fen: An alkaline wetland. Fed by fresh groundwater or runoff, these biomes are a lot richer in nutrients and the water is higher in oxygen. Because of this, they often have a much larger diversity of plant and animal species. Fens can sometimes become bogs over time.

Bog: An acidic wetland Thick moss, lots of dead matter, mostly a result of still water building up over many many years. Since the water is low in oxygen, you won't find many fish in these, and generally bogs are home to specialists who can handle the conditions.

Mire: Wet, muddy land that's hard to walk on Only synonymous with "bog" if you're using it in the informal sense of "being bogged down," not in the ecological sense-- a bog is a mire, but not all mires are bogs. You could have a mire made out of glue, tar, or caramel, if you were writing a really cool fantasy series.

Peat: A dark brown material formed from partially decayed plant matter. Essentially what happens when the top layer of moss or grass dies in a really wet place, is quickly grown-over by living plants, and then rots slowly underneath. A VERY important component of a bog, extremely useful as fuel.

For ShadowClan I'm actually modelling wetlands in and around Delamere Forest, specifically, because I ran into the issue you did of the British-English dialect having a lot of "overlap" in region names and scientific terms. If you want to go scouring for cool prefixes to suggest, you can check out Blakemere Moss, Black Lake, Mouldsworth Gap, and Abbots Moss.

Most of the plants you mentioned still grow here, though! Some other fun prefixes I've been thinking of though;

Lime (type of tree, no relation to citrus!)

Linden (another name for lime, which there are two types of)

Sphagnum (Important type of moss)

Snipe (type of bird that picks up its babies and flies away with them)

Coot (funny name bird)

Chaser (type of dragonfly)

Podzol (ashy soil found in places where plant decomposition is inhibited)

Quiver or Quake (Describing the movement of thick moss that has formed over the surface of stillwater, Q is a really rare letter in WC names)

Vetch (Common type of plant with a name I think is really cool)

Nymph (Baby dragonfly)

Skater, Skimmer, or Strider (Bug that hunts by gliding across the surface of water)