#m; falling for him was like falling from grace

[xazse]

Imagine sugar baby! Dombot AFAB toji x Sugar daddy Subtop m reader?? Like omg.

And instead of us being the older one it's toji 😭😭 reversed asf, like we do anything toji asks us to do because we actually secretly love him and toji thinks you're just after his pussy because of how much Reader seems to be flustered around him too much all the time, but he didn't even know m reader is HUNG ASF and doesn't have sex too much so he's not really used to fucking, but w toji? My god there's no rest. Toji would be ridin and milkin that dick and his own pussy till dawn OF THE NEXT DAY.

And reader? Oh he'd let him do anything, mf he's too pussy hungry for this too, like he'd do anything toji asks as long as he gets a taste of that pussy 😭😭

A Taste

Pairings: SugarBaby!DombotAfab!Toji x SugarDaddy!Subtop!M!reader

Warnings: Creampie + Afab!Toji + Male!reader + overstimulation + not!proofread + nasty smut + begging + lots of fluids + eating out

Notes: HIII OMG I LOVED UR PROMT SO GOOD AND YUMMY I HOPE THIS IS TO UR LIKING <333 + I may have gotten the sugar daddy part wrong

Toji thinks of you as a little puppy, a very forgiving one too. You practically follow him everywhere not that he minds, you give him money and even a place to stay he can’t complain. Though there are some downsides, everytime Toji offers to pay you back for what you’ve done you’re so quick to shoot it down and tell him to keep his money? Who does that?

He isn’t one to beg you to take it so he pockets it for later. And again when Toji asks if you want to settle down and watch a good movie with him you do say yes. The entire time he notices how you’ll glance in his direction every so often, at his face and even at his chest. This all has to connect to something, you not taking money from him, not wanting anything material wise so what exactly do you want?

He starts to put the puzzles together and comes to the answer that you most likely want sex from him, it all starts to make sense. Toji has had his fair share of sexual encounters but only by older perverted men, never someone as young as you are. What if he’s wrong though? What if he just ends up embarrassing himself and making you uncomfortable? He can’t have that who else is gonna buy him all the sweats and tight shirts he keeps handy? Not those old selfish fucks.

Toji starts slow as to not scare or send you into overdrive, you are a quiet man who keeps to himself but you do have nervous habits he’s picked up on. He also knows you aren’t that sexually active: he’s asked before if you’d want to hit up a club and maybe get a lay tonight but you politely declined and kept away with tapping at your laptop.

The subtle touches start, he’s gracing his fingertips along your back as he passes by you, touching your hand when he hands you something, Toji had even gone a giant step and asked you one day if you wanted a bite of this new snack he’d bought, you accepted but instead of him handing you it, he held it out and fed it to you, the whole time you were staring right into his eyes with a burning flame: oh?

Toji stares at you relaxed, laying down on the couch staring at the tv. You’re faced with your body upwards and your head turned: he decides this is the final moment in his plan. When he places his ass right on top of your cock you’re quick to startle thinking he’s made some type of mistake, a laugh leaves his lips, people don’t usually just sit ontop of someone for no reason? Toji wants you and very badly at that, he wants to repay you for all your kindness and respect.

Flustered and confused you quickly tell him that it’s okay and he doesn’t need to resort to such methods, it falls deaf on ears as he starts grinding against your cock, it’s not long before you’re fully hard dick is pressing against his pussy. Embarrassed that’s exactly what you feel, getting hard so quickly is pathetic.

Toji is ultimately flattered, a handsome man such as yourself getting hard for someone so much older makes his cunt throb. He pulls your pants along with your underwear: freeing your cock. The grin is wiped off his face when he sees just how fucking big you are, you’re thick and long, that’s a deadly fucking combo, he almost wants to back out.

You see his expression and concern fills your own face, is something wrong with you? Are you not to his liking? All sorts of bad things start to fill your head. Toji starts stripping himself of his own bottoms to reveal his dripping pussy, he rests it against your cock, all your worries disappear when all you can do is stare at the size difference between your parts. That’s why.

Your bare cock rests inbetween his lips, his clit is throbbing for some type of stimulation and your cock is begging for the same. You grab his hips boldly and start moving him, his sloppy cunt wets you with every long drag of his body. You both groan lowly. Toji hasn’t had foreplay with those other men, nor have they paid his clit any attention: but you make sure to give it plenty of attention, every so often you’ll use your fingers and rub the wet button, even dipping your fingers to taste him.

Toji has had enough of the foreplay and wants you inside him badly, he lifts his hips and you get the memo to line up your weeping tip with his greedy hole, it feels like he’s sucking you in when he slides down, Toji has to stop for a few to really adjust to you, it’s both frustrating and making him extra horny. When he finally bottoms out he feels so fucking full and he has to really focus on his breathing. Never has his pussy been stretched like this, he fills something warm inside of him and he stares directly at you.

You can’t even look at his face, hiding behind your arms lifted over your head, you really came inside of him and so fucking early, your cum starts to leak a little bit out of him further embarrassing and degrading you, but fuck did it feel so good, he feels good. Toji thinks you’ll go soft but you haven’t, not even a little. Trying to redeem yourself you begin moving his very slowly up and down.

Toji bites his lips as he lets you guide him through the process, you’re looking at him again: with such a warm love stricken face.

Oh god Toji can’t think, your cock is hitting his sweet spot directly over and over, damn the advantages to having a huge dick. He’s on his own as he bounces up and down again and again. You’re doing your part perfectly: meeting him halfway, pounding in him. He’s whining, the Toji fushiguro is whining for more of your cock.

Where you meet is obscenely gross and soaked with your juices mixed together, it’s sticky and sticks to Toji’s pussy everytime he moves up. He’s never produced and came this much from one single session. He doesn’t regret the weeks leading up to this at all, all he can think about is you pushing him over the edge and doing it all over again.

He begins to tire a little and you take over fully, lightly pushing him off of you, the wet sound of your cock slipping out of his pussy sounds so delicious, he thinks you’re going to stop and leave him wanting more but you don’t: you place your hands underneath his knees and push them towards his chest, it hurts, he isn’t flexible but he isn’t going to disobey when you want to give him more.

You push him into a mating press, and slide right back in. This position is more compromising and you get a full view of his face below you, dried tears and drool is present, his eyes are a little red from the overstimulation but he isn’t telling you to stop. You start fucking into him when you get your fill of his face, cock rubbing against his sensitive walls still has him clenching extremely tight around you, a few more strokes and he’s cumming around you with a lewd girly moan.

You do follow after but you just don’t stop, you might not ever get an opportunity like this so you’ll take full advantage of it, even if it comes at the cost of you being selfish.

It’s a wet sloppy mess by the end of it, you think it’s the end because Toji looks so fucked out, but your cock is still hard and throbbing, wanting to fuck him even more. You ask practically beg him for one more and then you’ll be done, he nods lightly allowing you to slip your soaked cock back into his warm embrace.

When toji finally tells you in a meek voice that he’s finished you’re distraught, you want more of him so much more, but when toji gives you the privilege of “cleaning him up” you fucking leap at the opportunity, using your tongue you slide back and forth inbetween his messy folds, lapping up all his cum and your cum. You sneakily even suck on his clit sometimes.

[hlficlibrary]

HL Fic Library 🩷 Mpreg Fics

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

🩷 Say Something by @kingsofeverything {E, 105k}

At fifty years old and recently divorced, Omega Harry Styles isn't interested in dating. When his doctor suggests a heat and rut matching service, he signs up out of necessity. It’s the only use he has for an Alpha in his life.

Twenty-eight-year-old Alpha Louis Tomlinson aims to change that.

🩷 I Get To Love You by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10 {E, 83k}

A one night stand leaves Harry with a permanent reminder of the night he spent with a stranger.

Louis has no idea who the handsome stranger he took to bed is... until his friends make a shocking discovery.

A baby is on the way, and Louis and Harry have nine months to get to know each other before they become a family...

🩷 I like the way you say my name (when you soak it in grace) by louisismycat / @liminalkittyfics {E, 73k}

“It’s like I’m fucking orbiting around you, you know? Like you’re some huge, beautiful planet, and I’m a piece of space junk lucky enough to be pulled in by you somehow, and now I can’t leave, even if I wanted to. And I really fucking don’t want to leave.”

OR Louis is transferred to a new city to temporarily cover for his counterpart while he is on maternity leave for the next six months.

His new co-workers talk endlessly about Harry, the omega who he’s covering for. And Louis finds himself jealous of whatever alpha as snatched him up.

Until he learns Harry is actually an unmated omega three months out from becoming a single parent.

🩷 Little by Little by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense {E, 65k}

Harry Styles is an omega who works at the London Planetarium, has lived in the same flat for ages, and is happy enough on his own. When he gets home from his first (horrible) attempt at dating in years, a new pregnant neighbor knocks on his door after smelling his cooking. He and Louis quickly become close, but their friendship gets complicated when Harry begins questioning who he is and what he likes.

Or Harry discovers figuring out who you are is more complicated than a potato metaphor.

🩷 Falling For Me Won't Be A Mistake by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings {M, 58k}

Harry is married to his job and so overworked that he doesn't know how to stop. All it takes is a forced Hawaiian get-a-away, the warm tropical breeze of the island, and the most beautiful, elusive man he's ever seen to make him remember what living is like outside of work. Well, that, and the little souvenir he accidentally takes home with him.

🩷 Just for Tonight (I can be yours) by @sadaveniren {E, 42k}

Harry, prince of Cestrescir, has been betrothed to Ludvic, prince of Yorvik, since birth. He'd accepted a loveless marriage as his duty to his country, until an accident threw him in the path of a gentle alpha

🩷 I Think You're Already Home by @jaerie {E, 38k}

Seeing Louis Tomlinson today, it would be hard to guess that he was ever once a member of the world's most famous boyband. These days he doesn't even the leave his own house. The truth is he can't leave his own house. He can't even remember the last time just standing at an open door didn't send him into a debilitating panic attack. But, against his friend's advice, Louis is ready to add meaning to his life again. He's ready to start a family. So what if he doesn't have an omega? There are plenty of surrogacy services just waiting to help the rich and famous become parents. He just has to find the right one for the job.

🩷 Endgame by @brightgolden {E, 38k}

Harry has been told all his life how grateful he should be for being born as a male omega, and how blessed their people were because the heir to the throne would be carried by The King.

What they neglected to tell Harry was what would happen if he failed to become pregnant.

OR Where omega Crown Prince Harry Styles is trying and failing to get pregnant for four years, but all that is about to change when courtesan alpha Louis Tomlinson comes into the equation.

🩷 Baby, What a Big Surprise by kiwikero / @icanhazzalou {E, 33k}

As Harry settles into his seat, self-consciously adjusting his shirt over his slightly distended stomach, he can’t help but wonder how he got himself into all this. But he knows, of course he knows. It isn’t exactly easy to forget the moment that changed his entire life forever.

It all started with a party.

Or, the one where shy, quiet Harry has no idea he's a carrier, and a one night stand with the most popular boy in school shows him just how wrong he was.

Featuring Lottie as Harry's best friend, Niall as her boyfriend, and, of course, Louis as the popular boy with a soft spot for his little sister's quirky friend.

🩷 Oops, Baby, I Love You (In That Order) by @fallinglikethis {E, 25k}

Later that night, when he’s lying in bed thinking of all the things he’s longed for in his life, he can’t stop hearing Fizzy’s words in his head. Who says you have to get married?

It’s true, Louis wants to get married one day, to have a spouse to encourage his crazy promotional ideas for his book shop, to have someone to cuddle into at night, someone who will love him even on his moody days. But she’s absolutely right, isn’t she? Who says he has to have that before he can have a baby?

 When he finally falls asleep, he sleeps restfully, having made a very important decision about his future.

 Husband or no, Louis Tomlinson is going to have a baby.

Or The minute Louis Tomlinson decides he don’t need no man to start a family, Harry Styles literally falls into his arms.

🩷 deep in my heart i know there's only you by ballsdeepinjesus {E, 23k}

"Will you do it?” Harry whispers. Louis has to lean closer just to hear him. He furrows his brows and shakes his head, not knowing what Harry means. “Would you donate for me?”

Louis is dumbfounded. “I’m sorry, I thought you just asked if I’d donate my sperm. Can you repeat yourself?”

[harry and louis are best friends who engage in some platonic baby-making. very platonic.]

🩷 tread lightly on my ground by fairytalelights {E, 20k}

No, that's the tragic part of this, the part that makes Harry feel like the universe is playing a cruel joke on him. The father of his baby is exactly right, exactly who he always imagined himself having kids with. He just imagined them married, bonded. Happy. He didn't imagine them barely talking, tip-toeing around each other because neither of them is brave enough to talk about what happened between them. He didn't imagine the father of his child not loving him back.

or, the one where Harry is having Louis' baby, but Louis doesn't know it's his.

🩷 Souls; Plural, Parallel by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {T, 19k}

Soulmates are rare, the sort of rare that means everyone has a story about a friend's sister's coworker or a brother's roommate's cousin. But the fact of the matter is that most people never meet theirs. It's unfortunate then, that Louis finds out the hard way that he met his soulmate in a club, and the guy never texted him back.

🩷 Come In and Change My Life by lightswoodmagic / @lightwoodsmagic {E, 12k}

He’d had the same neighbours since he’d moved into the building, a lovely, wealthy couple in their late sixties who had always invited him around for tea on Sundays. Martha had dropped off homemade biscuits the day he’d moved in, so Harry figured he may as well repeat the sentiment. He could hear someone getting closer to the door just as a flush ran through his body; oh fuck. His heat was close, too close to be knocking on a potentially unknown alpha’s door, but it was too late. The door swung open, and Harry’s mouth dropped. He’d never been overly interested in football, couldn’t find the fascination in watching men run around after a ball for hours aside from their uniforms, but he knew who this was. Louis Tomlinson, alpha, captain of Manchester United, star in a number of Harry’s heat addled fantasies, was his new next-door neighbour.

Or, Harry and Louis become friends when Harry looks after Louis' cat during away games, until one night at a party changes everything between them. It's just a shame Louis' going to be away for the FIFA World Cup for three months.

🩷 One Minute Old by crimsontheory / @ireallysawanangel {E, 9k}

“And he left you,” Niall interjects, the venom clear in his voice. “That asshole left you high and dry and broke your heart.”

Of course, Niall remembers that. Louis may have told him everything—minus the sexy parts—and Naill, being the overprotective mother friend that he is, took offence to that. “He didn’t break my heart,” Louis refutes. He was hurt and confused by it but he wasn’t heartbroken. And apparently, he’s still hurt by it if the way it felt seeing Harry yesterday was any indication.

“You were pretty smitten with him and then you spent days moping around your apartment after he left. I think that’s called being heartbroken,” Niall points out.

“Okay, okay, I was upset. We get it,” Louis says, trying to move past it. This isn’t ‘poke fun at Louis’ emotions hour’. “Anyway, I called to tell you that he showed up at my door yesterday.”

“To beg for your forgiveness I hope.”

“No, he’s—” Louis stops, unsure how to phrase it. “He’s pregnant. And I’m the father.”

Or, a one-night stand of Louis' that he never thought he'd see again shows up at his door six months later.

🩷 Him & I by notasawrap {NR, 8k}

Louis inhales deeply and... "Maybe we should divorce." He lets go anxiously, without looking at Harry. He can't, Louis can't do this and pretend that it doesn't hurt, that his omega is not dying, but he knows it must be for the best. They have not been working for a while and Louis doesn't think the alpha wants that either. Besides, now there are more things at stake and Louis wants to let go before it's too late for both of them.

Maybe Harry even has some lover and although Louis loves Harry, Louis doesn't think Harry loves him back. Not anymore.

"Why would we do that?" Harry says and sounds really dismayed at the idea. Louis doesn't understand.

or Louis thinks Harry has a lover and he's willing to let's Harry go to be happy with someone else even if it hurts the three of them.

🩷 Game Changer by @neondiamond {E, 6k}

“Did the doctor say what was wrong with you?” “He thought I was pregnant,” Louis scoffs. “Told me to go home and take a test, a pregnancy test, Haz. Can you imagine the nerve it takes for him to even think that?” Harry looks lost in his thoughts for a few seconds. “Did you? Take a test, I mean?” “Of course I didn’t.”

OR: A couple months before playing in his first long-awaited World Cup, Louis finds out he’s pregnant. Harry’s there for the ride.

🩷 The World Will Open Its Arms by @lululawrence {NR, 4k}

Harry scrubbed at the countertop. It wasn’t even dirty, but it was three in the morning and the girl who was supposed to relieve him over an hour ago never showed. He was now on hour ten of his shift and his feet hurt and his back ached and he was trying not to cry, thanks to more fucking judgmental alpha truckers who could smell it on him.

Of course they could. He practically lived at the diner. The entire place reeked of it.

Unbonded pregnant omega.

🩷 seven, seven by @nouies {NR, 1k}

“Hello, baby girl,” Harry says as soon as the nurse places the bundle of joy into his arms. “We’ve been dying to meet you.”

🩷 Holy Guacamole! by bluegreenish / @greenblueish {G, 666 words}

Louis needs to tell Harry something and wearing an avocado Halloween costume is the perfect way to do it.

[kits-ships]

my husband ranks my f/os.png

things i love about this:

he has watched moon knight, yet didn't recognize jake lockley or marc spector

he does NOT know who rex is. he said he just likes that picture of dt hgfsdfhh

wtf did din do to him

i love who he put in 'my wife needs help.' it's everyone i expected him to put there

i thought 🪓❄️ would be in the last category tbh

WTF DID POE DO TO HIM

[ne0nwithazero]

Fun fact about Tenna is that the reason he wears a tie in his city design is because they're subconsciously trying to mimic Big Shot Spamton's style

[monamipencil]

— angel eyes | l.sm

⋆ summary; though seokmin and you are focused on building a good relationship, you both forget an integral part of it. sex. or, in which you both have sex after being together for one year.

⋆ pairings; seokmin x fem! reader ⋆ genre; smut, angst (a teeny bit), fluff, established relationship ⋆ w.c; 3.7k+ ⋆ warnings; soonyoung slander, they're both horny and didn't have sex for no reason, seokmin is a loveable idiot, insecurities, oral (m. & f. receiving), unprotected sex (she's on pills), creampie, he's shy and adorable, mentions of food. ⋆ a/n; ty to the anon that came up with this idea. man, i love writing this guy.

Seokmin takes a deep breath for the nth time and rolls down the windows. He sighs, unbuttoning his shirt a bit to rid the hotness in the car. His hand moves to turn up the air cooler, but he stops halfway, eyes falling on your figure. You’re curled up in the passenger seat, pulling his coat tighter around you. 

A soft smile graces his features as he shifts focus to the road again. The events of the night slip away from his mind easily as you replace them. Seokmin has never felt happier than with you. It’s easier to breathe around you, easy to be himself around you, easy to feel loved and love you back. Everything has been so easy, and he feels content with the relationship. 

In fact, Seokmin even planned on going on one knee just 3 months into the relationship. He couldn’t help it. Everything flew naturally with you. And just like that, certain things didn’t even occur to him. Too focused on being in love, you both completely forgot about an integral part of a relationship. Sex.

The hard thing (no pun intended) is this had only been brought out to the limelight when one of his friends, Soonyoung, joked about it, unknowingly after your first anniversary. “Oh? Have you both even done it?” 

Soonyoung did not expect the absolute silence that followed, which affirmed his statement. The air felt too thick for him, and he could hear his heart thrumming in his ear. The awkwardness quickly dissolved when Mingyu made a mess, and everyone jumped to bully him. Since then, it lingered in his mind like a ghost, and his cheeks burnt up coyly.

He wasn’t embarrassed, per se, but shy. He was never embarrassed about the relationship at any point. Always proud that you both were taking things slow and smooth, earning comments of marriage from others frequently. 

And it's not like Seokmin shied away from the topic of sex either. He is a gentleman, not an idiot. And a bit shy. 

Hence, exactly why he couldn’t bring himself to meet your eyes the rest of the night. Soonyoungs joke shed a different light on you, and he found himself catching the details he usually missed.  Your cleavage that was slightly exposed when you bent forward, the curve of your ass when he placed his hand on your waist, the softness of your hips, and your soft, pretty lips, he found himself thinking about for the rest of the night. 

But you were seemingly unaffected by any of it. You were your usual self, and when he shied away from your eyes, you simply pinched his cheeks and kissed the corner of his lips to silently say, “it’s ok.” 

The kiss lingers on his skin warmly. He lifts his hand to caress your cheeks and smiles when you lean into his touch. But that smile drops when the strap of your dress falls, exposing your cleavage. With your curled-up position facing him, he can see it clearly.

Seokmin shifts his gaze back to the road, sporting a blush and a raging boner.

From then on, he had tried to initiate sex more often. Keyword; tried. 

He stopped by a convenience store to buy some condoms but ended up completely off the track and bought some of his childhood snacks.

“Honey, I’m home!” He announces, making his way to you with a big smile. You greet him back, “Hi baby,”

“You won’t believe what I found!” He exclaims, showing off the goods he bought, and you tilt your head, squinting at the plastic bags of snacks. “My childhood snacks! I actually went to buy-” Oh, right. He went to buy condoms. 

“Mhm, what did you want to buy?” you ask, fully focusing on him with a small smile. 

“I—well, uh.. I forgot.” He stutters under your gaze, and you chuckle, finding him adorable. Pressing a kiss to his lips, you take some of the snacks from his. “Come on, let’s store them.” 

“Huh? Ye—yeah.” 

...

At least he’s trying. 

He even googles up stuff! Countless articles pop up, and Seokmin is surprised to find that multiple people actually resonated with his problem. But it also worries him, and his heart sinks reading said articles — In a sexless relationship? Instant red flag! — Sexual incompatibility and its effects on long-term relationships — 6 ways to find out that your partner hates yo-

He slams the laptop shut and buried his face in his hands. Trying to ignore the lump in his throat, he rubs his face over and over again. Tears prick his waterline, and he can’t bite back the sob that rakes from his chest. What if you do hate him? 

The insecurity gnaws at his heart, and he feels disgusted with himself. Seokmin hugs the pillow for some comfort and falls asleep within minutes. 

God damn Soonyoung.

You groan out loudly, removing your hands from between your thighs and catching your breath. Ever since he brought it up, you found yourself like this often. Naked, horny, and sopping wet. You sigh heavily and turn around your bed, caressing his side of the bed. 

Your boyfriend is fucking hot. He’s the most gorgeous man you know. Call it an exaggeration, but it is true. He’s a piece of art. And you? Well, you’re a woman. 

A woman who has fallen head over heels for him. 

Getting to know him through the first months of your relationship, you came to know about his gentle nature, and as others say, he’s god-sent, something you can’t deny. He’s got it all. Personality, looks, a rare kind of optimism, and certainly a good dick. (yes. You were going through an album he shared with you, consisting of old pictures from college and school, and interestingly enough, there was a mirror selfie of his naked self, sporting a boner.) 

And being honest, Seokmin is quite naïve at times, and any horny feelings were unintentionally locked up in favor of taking things slow. You didn’t want to mess up things, and you see a future with him, leading to subconsciously pushing away intimate moments. 

That is until Soonyoung opened the floodgates.

You groan again. Just because Soonyoungs words elicited a positive response from you doesn’t mean the same for Seokmin. He couldn’t even look at you after that, and with much of your efforts, you brought the relationship back to normal. But things are going south again, with him seemingly avoiding you. It is hard to do so when you are actively living with someone, but he is pent-up at work lately. 

With another curse, you sit up, determined to set things straight, Not by talking, but by some other means. 

He’s always stressed and tense from work, and what better stress-buster there is than sex? Checking the time, you smirk. There’s more than enough time to make extra preparations as well.

...

You’re lying on the bed again with a giddy feeling as you anxiously wait for your boyfriend to return him. You bite your lip, resisting the urge to check yourself in the mirror again. You bathed, sprayed his favorite perfume, and applied a bit of gloss, wanting to keep it natural. You’re wearing sexy white lingerie, not too provocative and not too boring, it was perfect. And since you didn’t want to give your boyfriend a heart attack, you wore one of his t-shirts, covering the lingerie. 

The sound of the front door opening has you sitting up in a frantic and your heart races when you hear his usual “Honey, I’m home!” you take deep breaths to ease your nerves and go outside to greet him. His back is turned to you as he removes his shoes and places them on the rack at the entrance. You hug his back, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face into his upper back. 

“Missed you,” you pout. You missed him so fucking much. Seokmin was taking mental escapes, and it really hurt to not see his usual happy-go-lucky self. 

He freezes under your touch, and you sigh. He turns in your embrace and smiles sweetly at you, murmuring a soft, “missed you too.” Before slotting his lips on yours. Your hands come up to hold his face and deepen the kiss. He hums against your lips, one of his hands move to your waist and the other to your face. 

He breaks the kiss, but not before another sweet peck. But you pull him in for another by grabbing his tie. He gasps when you bite his lip, giving you the perfect chance to slip in your tongue. He pulls you flush against him, fingers digging into your waist. You caress his hair and wrap your arms around his shoulder. The feeling of his tongue on yours is ecstatic, and you drown yourself in his scent.

You walk backward, slowly leading him to the bedroom. You gasp when he lifts you, and you wrap your legs around his waist, holding onto him. He gasps for breath and walks into the bedroom. Seokmin knows where this is leading, but he hasn’t processed any of what is happening now. 

He’s drunk on your scent, and the way you look at him makes him oblige to you, like a man lured by a siren. You don’t cease your kisses but reduce them to pecks and slowly move from his lips to his neck. He grunts lowly, feeling you sucking and nibbling on his sensitive skin. 

He sets you down on the bed, quickly moving to undo his tie, but you pull him down to the bed and straddle his hips. You bite back a moan, feeling his hard cock graze your thigh and continue your attack on his neck. He tilts his neck, giving you space, and rests his hands on your bare thighs, slowly moving them under the tee to your—oh.

The reality of what is happening dawns upon him as his fingers graze the lazy material of your panties. Seokmin gently pulls you away, gripping your shoulders as he looks at you with a bewildered look. 

“Shit. Do—do you not want this?” he watches your face morph through multiple emotions, and he notices the tears forming. 

“Wait, no. No! that’s not—wait. Please?” You nod, waiting for him. 

But Seokmin cannot form a word for the life of him, and he panics, uttering continuous ‘I’s and ‘uhm’s. He gives up, sighing and catching your eyes on him. Fuck. His cock twitches in his pants, and he can’t help the nasty thoughts that form in his mind. 

“Just,” he breathes in, closing his eyes before finding yours again. “Fuck me, please.”

You close the gap between you two, kissing his lips tenderly. Gently pushing him back, you make him lay on the mattress without breaking the kiss. You sigh against his lips, resting your forehead on his and silently searching for reassurance in his eyes. That reassurance comes with him pushing your hips down to his. 

You sit up, smiling prettily at him before removing his t-shirt. His eyes widen, and his mouth falls agape as he sits up to have a better look. You wore this for him? He rests his hand on your thighs, fixating his eyes on your breasts. You giggle, “you like it?” he nods wordlessly before switching positions. 

Seokmin looks down at your figure, “So pretty.” He whispers before kissing your neck, licking the skin, and nibbling on it. He kisses further and further down till he reaches the valley of your breasts. He looks up at you, catching your eager eyes and shit. The newfound confidence fades away, and his cheeks burn up. 

To add to his shyness, you lift yourself up, undoing the bra and flinging it into some corner. You guide his hands to your breasts, and your nipples harden immediately under his touch. You moan, pushing your chest out, encouraging him to do whatever he fucking wants. 

But you did not expect him to right away wrap his lips on your pebbled nipples as his hand toys with the other. You whimper and moan, turning putty in his hands. His tongue circles around your nipple before he sucks on it. Your panty sticks to your core like a second skin, and you feel more arousal drip through the material. 

He switches to the other one, sucking so diligently on it. Before he could go further below, you stop him. “Wait. I want to see you too.” You whisper breathlessly. 

You help him undress and bite your lips, soaking in his figure. Watching as he slips off his pants, you feel yourself grow hotter. Seokmin looks like what you could only describe as a walking wet dream. Your eyes dart all over his figure. Wide shoulders and strong biceps complemented by a firm chest and a toned abdomen. And, thick thighs complementing his—oh, god. 

Your eyes widen, and your mouth waters as you see the outline of his cock. He’s thick and big. Enough to pleasure you and not enough to hurt. So, in total, it’s perfect. You just want him to bruise your insides and-

Seokmin holds your chin, gently tilting your head up to make you look at him. You look at him through your eyelashes and pout lightly at him while arching your back and closing your arms to push your breasts together.

His cock twitches, leaking pearls of precum that stained his boxers. His chest fills with confidence at the way you are reacting to him. Even he cannot comprehend what he's doing. Your effect on him is that powerful. 

He takes you by surprise and kneels on the floor. It's his turn to look at you through his lashes, big brown eyes staring at you with need. You lick your lips, watching him as he pulls you to the edge and spreads your legs. He kisses your heat through the lacy material and licks at the patch formed by your arousal. His nose presses against your clit, and you gasp, feeling all the bones in your body weaken as he has his way with you. 

Pulling away, he slides his fingers under the hem of your panties and peels it off you, leaving you bare. It joins the pile of clothes, and he dives right in, licking and kissing your folds. “Fuck!” you arch your back and push your cunt onto his face. His nose directly presses against your clit, and you moan as he basically fucking makes out with your cunt. 

You close your legs around his head and tangle your fingers with his locks, pushing him further. He sucks on the little bundle of nerves, then circles his tongue around it with occasional kitten licks. You tug at his hair harshly, and your moans fill the room along with wet sounds as he eats you out. Feeling the orgasm inching closer, you force his mouth off you. 

“Need you,” you whimper, grabbing his face and kissing him. He moans into your mouth as you roughly push your tongue past his lips, tasting yourself on him. His cock twitches with need when you rake your nails down his nape and shoulders. Seokmin grows hotter, thinking about your hands pumping his cock as you suck on his tip. 

You pull away to get down on your knees and hook your finger under the hem of his boxers as he stands up. You pull it down, gawking at his hard, twitching cock, and take him in your hands. His cock rests heavy in your hands, and you couldn’t care less about the cold floor biting your knees. You give the tip an experimental lick, tasting his precum while batting your eyelashes up at him. 

You grin, satisfied when he throws his head back, groaning at a small lick. Without warning, you take half of his length in your mouth, eyes rolling back at the feeling of it resting heavily on your tongue. He tangles his fingers in your hair, looking down at you while he moans a string of curses. Wrapping your fingers around his base, you pump his length and swirl your tongue around his tip. 

You bounce your head up and down his cock, getting used to his girth. You pull away momentarily, and a string of saliva connects your lips to his tip. Licking your lips, you maintain eye contact with him and wrap your lips around his length once again. But this time, you take his full length in your mouth, gagging and enjoying how he fills you up. You hold his thighs for support, sliding his cock out fully before taking him again. 

You do this a couple of times and feel him twitching in your mouth. Seokmin pulls your mouth off his cock, biting his lips in vain to prevent moaning at the erotic sight before him. You know how to put that mouth to use. A few more seconds and he would’ve cummed down your throat. 

With a huff, he pulls you up and backs you to the bed. You lay on the soft sheet, letting him take control. You gasp when he teases his tip on your folds, coating it in your arousal, and he moans, feeling your warmth and wetness. His tip nears your entrance, stretching past your folds, and then—

“Shit. Condoms,” he curses, eyes snapping towards yours in worry. You chuckle, finding your dumbfounded boyfriend adorable. “I’m on pills. Don’t worry.”  

His eyebrows crease, “Since when?”

“Since that dinner. Couldn’t stop thinking about you and your cock.” 

A light blush settles on his cheek, and he smiles at you, shaking his head. He pushes his hair back to calm himself down, and you sigh, finding him hot. There he sits on his knees, between your legs, and a coat of sweat glistens on his skin. He looks ethereal and hot. Yeah, you’d let him rearrange your insides. 

He chuckles, finding your lusty eyes ogling him. “You’re making me shy!” 

And you hook your arms under your knees, pulling your legs to your chest. You bite your lips with a sultry look on your face, and he groans, watching your pussy glisten under the light. He readjusts himself, feeling your folds with his tip again. 

You gasp and moan as his length fills you up, stretching your walls. You haven’t had sex in over a year, and you’re feeling the effects now. Tears well up, and you close your eyes, attempting to adjust to his length. Seokmin leans down, kissing your tears away, and you open your eyes, finding his chocolate eyes staring at you with love and lust.

“Shit. Is it too much? I can pull out, baby.” He softly says, voice laced with concern. You shake your head, whispering a ‘no.’ You lift your head up, slotting your lips against his.

You hook your hands around his nape, deepening the kiss. He holds your waist as you wrap your legs around his hips, holding still till you adjust. Your gummy walls grip his length tightly, making his head spin. After a few moments, you pull away from the kiss, taking a deep breath and nodding at him. 

Seokmin pulls out slowly, leaving only his tip in before slowly sinking back. You both moan in unison when he fills up again. He does this a few times before settling into a comfortable and pleasurable pace. You moan with each snap of his hips towards yours, eyes rolling back in pleasure. His cock kisses your walls in all the right places.

His moans mix with yours in the bedroom, along with the sounds of your hips meeting. Your cunt squeezes his cock, and the wetness allows him to easily slide his cock in and out of you. The feeling of your arousal coating his cock is sinful, and your naked skin on his makes warmth pool in his chest. 

He catches your lips in a sensual kiss, slowing down his pace. His tongue slides against yours easily, wandering your mouth. Your arousal drips down, sticking to his balls with each thrust. You bite his lower lip, making him whine into your mouth, and fasten his pace a bit. You slide your hand between your bodies to stimulate your clit, but he beats you to it.

Long, slender fingers rub at your clit, drawing in your orgasm. You buck your hips up, desperately meeting his cock and fingers. Seokmin moans when you clench his cock, speeding up his climax. You whine, feeling the familiar knot in your stomach, and he feels his cock twitch as well. His pace stutters, turning erratic as he kisses you messily. 

With a moan of his name, you cum on his cock and hold onto him for dear life. He follows suit, hips stuttering to a halt as ribbons of cum paint your walls. He rests his forehead on yours, trying to catch his breath. You sigh in bliss, his warm cum filling you up to the brim. 

He pulls out, falling to your side and instantly pulling you into a cuddle. His cum oozes out, and it should feel dirty, but it doesn’t. Instead, it feels like home, warm and cozy, with his cum filling up your cunt. 

“I love you,” he whispers into your ear, and you giggle, feeling his breath tickle you. You can’t see him, but you feel his smile. “I love you too, baby.” And you giggle again when he kisses your neck, accidentally tickling you again.

His strong hands wrap around you comfortingly. And a serene silence envelops you both. Only for a while, though, “should I order pizzas?” 

You heartily laugh, slapping his chest lightly, and peck his cheeks. He adorably grins at you, pulling you closer. You rest your head on his chest, hugging him with a lazy smile. 

“Was that ok?” he voices out.

“Hmm, the pizza?” 

His chest reverberates as he chuckles, “No—I mean yes. That’s also there but…” 

“Was the … sex good?” he finishes, and you look up, meeting his curious eyes tinged with insecurity. But you smile brightly at him, nodding, “The best I’ve ever had.” His eyes widen before he squints at you playfully. 

“Don’t lie, it was that good?”

“Yep. 10/10. Best cock in the world.”

You both laugh, and he adds, “your...” He coughs, “uhhh...” He gives up, gesturing towards your heat and nodding in acknowledgment. Your body shakes with laughter, and he hides his face shyly. You remove his hands and kiss his face, hugging him closer. Silence settles again, and you feel content in his arms before he speaks again. 

“Also, pizza ok?” 

tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy @jespecially

@asyre @armycarat2612 @bewoyewo @pan-de-seungcheol

(send an ask to be added on the taglist!)

[kosije]

sins in silk

c/w ★ ׂ duke!miguel ohara x princess!reader, they are from different kingdoms, mentioned age-gap, forbidden love aspect, pregnancy kink, mentions of masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, mutual head, fingering, size kink, art cred: kammie_arts1903

"Princess, the Grand Duke is here. May I bring him in?"

"Show him to the study for now. Tell him I will be right out. Be sure to thank the Grand Duke for his patience."

"Yes, Princess."

"Oh, Will?"

"Yes, Princess?"

"After you inform the Duke, please excuse everyone to their chambers, yes?"

"But princess, you know if the king found out we had left your side, even with the Grand Duke we could lose our-"

"I will not let that happen. So please, Will, do this for me."

All though apprehensive, your servant bows and disappears from your room, in long strides to the Duke.

It's the 5th time this month he has come to the estate. Always with the intention to see the King and ruminate. And despite him being so much older than you, your father's closest friend and strongest connection to the 2099 kingdom, and is only to wed a woman from his territory, each time he has come has left you tangling a hand in your silk sheets, hushed cries of the Duke's name left to fall from your wet lips in a silent plea.

Every time he drops by unannounced, talks to your father, and leaves. Every time he has his salt and pepper sprinkled brown hair combed back away from his face, showing the wrinkles on his forehead. Every time his eyes have focused on you, running over you like the pretty oil portrait that hangs above the study's mantle as his jaw flexes brows furrow, something in you ignites and the yearning becomes almost palpable.

Never does he say more to you than a few words, only acknowledging you after with how his body tenses when you're around. He runs as cold as the marble under your feet as you move to your vanity to reapply your perfume and shift your dress to expose enough of your collarbone without looking intentional. You're buzzing at the thought of seeing him, taking the rollers out of your hair with bubbling anticipation. This is the first time he's come amidst nightfall and the first time you two will be alone. With your hands resting to your front, you walk to the study well aware of how low your neckline is dipping while high pillared walls with paintings of cherubs and past battles trail you illuminated by ivory candles.

When you push past tall burgundy doors, you're greeted by the sight of Grand Duke of 2099, Miguel O'hara, who's stretching his back with two large hands on his hips. The deep groan he lets out makes your skin flush, and when his cold gaze meets yours you almost shiver. His eyes drift from your face to just right where your dress exposes a bit of the fat on your breast, and you smile when you hear him suck in a breath.

"What do I owe the pleasure, Your Grace?" His eyes tear from your chest as he focuses on the crackling fireplace.

"Just here to see your father, is he near?" He asks, brown eyes fixing back onto yours. Your smile only widens.

"I'm afraid the King is away, but he should be returning soon, you are more than welcome to stay 'till his return."

"I shouldn't-"

"Humor me, Your Grace. After all, I am a bit lonely without my father to talk to." you say, batting your eyelashes at him bashfully.

Apprehension is so clear on his face, but still he nods, straightening his white button up and waiting for you to go on.

"Follow me," you say, walking back down the hall until you reach your room.

"Princessa, I will not go further, this is inappropriate. A young lady shouldn-"

"'M not as young as I was before. Surely you can agree, no?"

"Even so," He coughs. "That is not the point-"

"You should have no trouble entering. I have already given my permission."

He doesn't look convinced.

"Do you not trust me? Have I done wrong by you?"

"That is not it, Princessa-"

"Then please, my duke, time is slipping right past us." you whisper, slipping through the doors, intentionally brushing your hand across his thigh. You grin when you hear his shaky breath, and hear your door not only close, but lock.

"What is it that you have here that we couldn't be anywhere else for?"

"Are you putting on an act," you ask him, turning around to face him still at a distance. "Or are you truly this aloof, Your Grace?'

"I’m sorry?-"

"I have a confession," you say. walking closer and closer until his breath is caught in his throat, and your lips are just a nudge away from his.

"My father won't be returning anytime soon." And suddenly, it seems it has clicked in his head, as his eyes darken.

"This can not happen."

"You're right," your hand is pressed up against his chest.

"Someone could hear us," He whispers, making no effort to push you away.

"I've already dismissed everyone to their chambers."

"If your father ever found out there could be a war," he tries to argue, but his head is still dipping down, ghosting over your lips.

"We have all night to just the two of us."

And just a second after saying that, he kisses you. His lips are hot, hungry, and experienced in the way they move against yours, swallowing your every breath. His hands find your waist, but he hesitates and you can tell he hasn't given in completely. And something about that excites you.

You pull away from his lips, leaving him noticeably confused until your hand reaches down and palms his cock, happy at the way he's already hard.

"Do you know just how long I've been wanting this?" You ask shifting him around you.

He doesn't say anything, only shakes his head "No."

"Ever since the day you came back to visit, I haven't been able to think of anything else." When you push him down on the edge of your bed, he shivers when you drop to your knees and play with the button on his slacks.

"Every night, I touch myself on these sheets to the thought of you." You confess, finally free him from his pants, leaving him in the thin fabric of his underwear, painfully soaking up the front of them with his pre.

"Princessa," He finally says in almost a whine. "If you say things like that I'm afraid I won't be able to hold back."

And dipping your hand under his waistband to grip his cock, you savor how thick and heavy he feels and the groan he lets out with a kiss to his base. You can't deny the bit of worry that flushes through you when you see just how big he is. Thick beads of cum pulse out of him that you lick up hungrily, humming at how you can feel hus veins on your tongue.

"Then please, Your Grace. Give me everything."

That seems to shatter his self control, because suddenly he has a hand in your hair and a hand on his cock as he forces your lips over his angry brown head.

"You're such a damn tease, you know that?" He gritts out, bullying his cock all the way to the back of your throat and then some. You gag and choke around him, already feeling your throat burn and eyes well up.

"Always coming around me with your father with your body on display in those cute little gowns, batting those pretty little eyes at me when you talk. What would your father think if he knew all of that was because you were trying to get my attention?" He coos between groans while using your face like just a vessel to get off, and your cunt starts dripping. "Just so I could fuck your pretty mouth like this?"

You can't do anything but moan around him, croaking out gasp when he finally lets you catch your breath before immediately pulling you back down onto his dick rapidly as snot mixes in with tears, spit, and cum starts to drip down your jaw and onto your floor. He begins to unbutton his shirt, before tearing it off completely, leaving buttons to fly across your room. Looking up through teary eyes you take in the way his usually combed back hair sticks to his sweaty forehead messily, as his abs tense and relax with every rapid breath as his mouth lulls open with lidded eyes, moaning when he sees just how well you swallow him.

Swiftly, you run your tongue over the slit of his cock, hearing him whine, and feeling the grip on your hair tighten enough to burn your scalp. Your throat aches with every heavy thrust that only spurs on the throbbing between your thighs as your hands play with his balls and he stutters in your mouth, shooting his seed down your throat, midst mumbling praises.

Without word or warning, he flips you over, effectively pinning you down to your bed once he's come down from his high. His large calloused hand runs up and down your thigh before tossing your nightgown up, and he groans at the sigh.

"You needed me so bad you didn't wear anything under this frilly thing? What a filthy girl." He grins, slapping your dripping cunt and drinking up your moan in a kiss.

"Your Grace,"

"That's not what you should be calling me." He grits, crouching down to his knees to lick a stripe up your throbbing pussy.

"M-miguel,"

"Yes, Princessa?"

"Please."

"Please what, Princessa?" He says, licking another stripe, but slower.

"Please...don't tease me." You whimper, muffling your moans with the back of your hand.

"And what shall I do instead?"

"Kiss me harder, please. I need it, Mig-" and your sentence is cut off by the feeling of his nose kissing your clit as he buries his face into your sopping heat, groaning at the way you suck his tongue in. You're writhing at the feeling, but when you feel one of his calloused fingers push through you, you lose your vision for a second.

"Fuck- you're even tighter than I thought you were," he groans, and you feel your body ignite at his admission.

"You'd think of me?" You ask with such a worn out voice, Miguel's hips buck up in search of any friction at all.

"All the damn time. Would fuck my hand everyday over those pretty eyes and lips, imagine how pretty you'd look all happy and spent, with the image of my love spilling out of you." He confesses, speeding his assault on your hole, hitting spots with his fingers you could only dream of, before latching his mouth back on and fucking you with his tongue and fingers. The arousal in you was rushing through you like a wave and just after a strangled moan it blows out of you in pleasurable burst that leave you flushed. He hungrily drinks you up like a starved man until you're whining from the sensation.

When he rises from the floor he doesn't bother wiping your slick from his mouth, only laughs at your fucked out expression, and runs his lips over yours, amused by how you trail after him. Annoyed, you wrap your hands around his collar and pull his lips onto yours, gasping and licking into his mouth. Between the taste of you on his tongue, his rock-hard cock rubbing against your puffy folds as your hands run through his sweaty hair.

"Gonna give me one more?" He asks, voice low like gravel.

"I'll do anything for you, Miguel. Anything you want."

He kisses you again, a passionate thing as you both whine at the feeling of him bullying into you.

"'Ts too big, Mig- oh! S-slow down!" You cry, but his hand slaps the fat of your thigh and grips it, hitting you even deeper at a fast pace. The pain is still there, but feeling of pleasure is much more intense. And it only skyrockets when you hear his voice.

"Sshhh sweetheart. You're-fuck-already taking me so well. so damn tight around me. Be good and take what I give you. So I c-can tell your father what a nice cunt his perfect little girl has." He rasps, pounding you even deeper than before, and your nails dig up the fabric of your sheets, leaving fabric frayed in long scratches. One hand grips your thigh as the other moves up your dress to tweak and grope your breast, making you clench down around him. He drawls out a curse as his head falls into the crook of your neck, inhaling the smell of your sweat and perfume that makes him impossibly more needy to where he's plowing through you in quick hard strokes that move your bed to knock against your walls, shaking the shelf above you.

His teeth sink into your neck, almost as a mark of ownership, before sucking a bruise into your skin, continuing his markings lower and lower to focus them on your breast. Your back arches at the sting and you cry out at the imposing feeling building up inside you.

"Such a pretty girl," he says, leaning over to look you in your eyes, studying the gaping of your mouth and tugging on your brows as your orgasm builds up. His eyes are trained on you, as he throbs inside you, stimulating you further.

"I'm close-" you whimper, voice cracking as he licks a stripe up your neck.

"Yeah?" He asks, smirk practically audible as he hums in your ear. "Do it. Squeeze me, sweetheart."

It only takes a few heavy strokes to hit your sweet spot before you are gushing around him, making his thrust sporadic and moans louder.

"Yes-shit- let me fill you up. I'll give you an heir, and then I'll-hah- fuck you again, and again, and again."

"Yesyesyes, please." You think you exclaim, but can't tell if you said it out loud or just in your head because of how overestimated you are. His hand rubs circles on your clit, and your toes curl as your heels dig into the muscle of his back.

"Fuck- I'm gonna-" He spits out, just before spilling his seed into your cunt, carefully riding out his orgasm inside you while pushing his cum deeper into your womb. His palm stretches over the expanse of your chest as he leans down to kiss just above your belly button. The room is quiet now that he is still inside you, and you watch Miguel lean down to kiss you once more, in the form of a soft peck to your swollen lips. Once he pulls back, he leaves you briefly before returning with a warm damp cloth that he wipes you down with. Once he is done, he discards it into a bucket and lies himself down next to you.

"If we continue to do this," he says, carefully pulling out of you. "We will eventually have to tell your father."

"You're right," you whisper scared, but when you feel his strong arm pull you flush against his chest, hope surges through you and you bury your face into his warm body.

"We'll need to get up early, the maids would appreciate finding us like this."

"We'll be fine. After all, a pregnancy will shock them far more than this."

"I'm sure it will," he laughs, kissing your forehead.

Since envelops the two of you, as you notice his breathing deepen.

"Your, Grace-"

"Miguel," he corrects, eyes dancing across your face with a small smile.

"Miguel, my father will be gone on the next full moon."

"The next full moon, huh?" He asks no one at all, pushing your hair behind your ear.

It’s bittersweet asking him to sneak around with you again. And yet, all he says is a simple "Okay," placing a kiss to the palm of your hand, and you understand what the gesture is:

A promise.

[hannieehaee]

GOSH im in love with your writing like YOU HAVE NO IDEA SWEETHEART

And I'm desperate for some friends to lovers with seokmin who begs to taste you, his bff, after you joked about how your friends are saying he would be the best in eating a girl out bc of his nose🫦

18+ / mdi

content: simp!seokmin, bffs2lovers, smut, afab reader, eating out, seokmin's nose, etc.

wc: 682

a/n: HEHE THANK U SO MUCH<33 had to choose these pics bc his nose looked soo good in these i cry T-T

masterlist

"o-oh"

"seokmin, fuck, just forget i said anything," you groaned, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.

why did you think it was a good idea to bring up your drunken ramblings to seokmin completely unprovoked?

"n-no! don't be embarrassed. you just surprised me, that's all," he sat next to you on the couch, encouraging you to remove your hands from your face.

"it is embarrassing. i dont want you to think of me as some horny loser lusting after her best friend. i swear, i didnt even bring it up! they were just talking about guys with big noses and you were the first guy that i thought of and-"

"my nose? you thought about how my nose would feel?"

"n-no, i-"

"i, i mean, it's okay if you did," he said, scooting closer to you despite his eyes looking everywhere but into yours.

you decided to take a plunge, turning your body to face his as you looked to him in wonderment.

"what do you mean?"

"i mean, uh, i mean that it wouldn't bother me if ... if you thought about me in that way," seokmin winced at himself as the words left him, still unable to look at you.

gulping, you got closer to him, nudging him to turn to you also.

"do you mean that, seokmin? i ... do you-"

"yes," he was firm in his answer, finally looking at you.

"oh ... do you wanna ..."

"yes," he practically whined.

~

"o-oh, fuck! m-minnie, just like that ... yes!"

"'sso good, shit. so warm ..."

it hadn't taken much encouragement for you to jump seokmin after he'd given you confirmation that he did, in fact, want you in the same way you did him. after aggressively making out for a good ten minutes or so, seokmin had pleaded for you to please open your legs for him and let him have a taste of you. you, being you, needed no convincing to open your legs and guide him where you wanted him most.

by now he had spent the past ten minutes alternating between licking at you and suckling on your clit, but he was yet to show you what his nose would feel like as it slid against your folds.

before you could beg for it, seokmin's strong arms grabbed a hold of your hips and tilted you a bit in order to position his nose in a way that would grace your bundle of nerves just right all the while his tongue continued to explore you.

you screamed the moment you felt his sharp nose drag up and down your cunt, falling in love with its straight shape and the slight slope of it. the sharpness and rough exterior of his nose made you cry out in pleasure. it wasnt long until you began grinding against his face like a maniac, completely ignoring his attempts at guiding you against his face.

grabbing his head, you rubbed him against you while you canted your cunt against his face, tears flowing down your face at the pleasure.

"y-your nose, minnie! o-oh ... so good, fuck. so fucking good ..." you breathed out, followed by many other praised and curses at the pretty boy below you.

he was unable to speak due to the way you had taken over the entirety of his mouth, but his groans of pleasure were enough to get you crying even harder for him.

seokmin continued savagely eating you out while you ground against his nose all the way until your high, somehow managing to speed up his movements the closer you got to your orgasm.

with a silent scream, your fists closed in on seokmin's hair one last time before you dropped limp against your bed.

the room was silent for a few moments while both you and seokmin caught your breaths. but the moment the two of you were apt to speak, seokmin climbed on the bed and began kissing his way up to your lips, giggling at your fucked out state.

"so my nose, huh?" he teased, face scrunched up due to his pretty smile.

"shut up."

[voxisdaddy]

Focus On Me, Luci

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Sub!Top!Lucifer x Dom!Bottom!Reader

Type: Smut

C/TW: Praise kink, mommy kink, cock warming implied, reader written as fem!

In which Lucifer, for once, tops and his poor subby body is trying his best to make you proud.

MDNI

“Just like that Luci…keep doing that.”

Your words of encouragement are what Lucifer clings to in his desperate attempt to please you. His hips get unsteady easily after only a couple of thrusts. He whines in frustration and embarrassment about it.

“Mommy—I can’t…” He whines pathetically.

You click your tongue. “You’re normally such a good boy, Luci. Don’t you wanna make mommy feel good?” Lucifer can only nod, albeit with a look of exhaustion. Poor guys not used to being on top. He feels his cock ache to be drained by you but you’re only allowing him to please himself all on his own.

“Come ‘ere.” You invite him in an embrace. He crawls on top of you, almost collapsing from how trembly his legs are. You press a light kiss to his ear before whispering, “just focus on me okay? Focus on how snug and warm I keep you, okay baby?”

He melts at your words.

“Yes m’ dear,” His forearms rest on either side of your head as he lines himself up to push in again. He pushes as far as he can go, wanting to be as balls deep as he possibly can.

He starts thrusting with your guidance. Your voice reassuring him to take his time, set a nice rhythm, all the while your gentle and cute little moans are gracing his ears.

He finds a nice rhythm and focuses on keeping his cool. He can’t desperately fuck you to relieve himself just yet. Though the temptation is strong, he wants to make you proud.

“Mmm… baby… you’re making me feel so good…” Your moans of encouragement drive him crazy. He wants to selfishly beg you to ride him, fuck you both for him until he passes out. But he knows that’s selfish and you take care of him so often, it’s only fair he returns the favour every now and then.

Your walls clamp around on him so deliciously he’s got sweat on his forehead, panting and moaning into your ear. He almost allows himself to fall into the pleasure, feeling weak, and desperate for a release that only you seem to know how to give him.

A slight change in angle and he hears a gasp. He keeps thrusting, eyes fluttered closed as he uses all his energy to focus. Your grip on his shoulders tighten and your moans are more pitched and frequenter.

“Fuck!” You gasp. “Mmmm… right there Luci… right there, you’re gonna make mommy cum…”

Your praise, mixed with how you tightened around him and his pridefulness in making you feel good, brings some more needy moans from him.

“…you’re doing so good… so perfect my pretty baby…” You tug his hair. Running your fingers over his sensitive wing base causes him to whimper.

Lucifer shudders at your delicate touch. He holds his climax back until you’ve cummed all over his cock and balls. He still keeps his pace though so you can ride out your high.

Now feeling the overstimulation, you bring your hands to caress Lucifers face to give him a sloppy kiss. “Go ahead honey…Cum as much as you want.”

Not a second later, Lucifer is thrusting his hips at a more rapid pace, only a bit sloppy this time around, as he chases his own already nearing orgasm.

He finishes with one final deep thrust, moaning pathetically as he feels himself empty his warm cum into your aching cunt.

He collapses on top of you with a heavy chest and still connected between your legs. “Thank you my love…” He kisses the place between your neck and shoulder.

You run your fingers through his messy blonde hair. Lucifers exhaustion and the comfort you give him is enough to lull him to sleep. Before he can drift off though, you tug on his hair.

“Don’t fall asleep yet, Luci. I still gotta clean your pretty cock.”

Lucifer feels his cock twitch inside you. Oh yeah.

You’re gonna suck the life out his cock tonight.

I haven’t really written smut in FOREVER. OHMYGOD. I hope you enjoyed it lmao

[dilemmaontwolegs]

can you do something about lando's neck please ?

Sub!Lando is making a comeback for this one 🤤

Pretty Necklace || LN4

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, dom!reader, overstimulation, breathplay, smut

Lando crushed the back of his head into the pillow, his hands holding the gilded metal railing of the headboard for dear life. He knew if he touched you then his night would be over, and he had been so good for you. He had done everything you told him without hesitation.

“Do I need to tie them in place?” you asked as you looked up from where you lay between his legs. He shook his head harshly, missing the warmth of your mouth on his cock and the feel of your finger in his ass.

“No, no, ‘m good, please, I’ll be good.” His blue eyes were shimmering with tears as he tried to keep still, but he couldn’t stop his hips from bucking with the kitten lick you gave to the swollen and sensitive tip of his dick. Every muscle in his body was straining, his calves bulged where he dug his heels into the mattress and his abs had been clenched for the past half and hour since he last came.

But it was his neck that looked divine.

Climbing up his body, you planted your palms on his damp chest and sunk slowly down his hard length. His eyes screwed shut as your warm walls welcomed him and his chest rose and fell quickly with the sharp breaths it took to keep from coming right away. He hadn’t been given permission yet.

“I love your neck,” you praised as you ran your palms up his sweaty chest and over his collarbone. You traced the thick cords of muscle that stretched up his the column of his neck and over his racing pulse. “Open your eyes, my little pet.”

Lando obeyed, he always did. His eyes flashed open as your hands encircled his throat, the girth so thick you had to use both. You gently squeezed the sides but the pressure barely registered on his face with the strength of his muscle.

“Harder,” he pleaded, the question you were about to ask.

Your thumbs pressed harder until a dopey smile graced his lips and a moan filled the air. His cock twitched inside you as you slowly rode him, he was so close and so you were you.

“Such a pretty necklace,” you purred. You could watch him like this all day, your fingers around his throat and his eyes rolling back as his back arched off the bed.

“Please, please, can I come? Please…” his strained voice was barely more than a whisper and his lips were dry with the panting of the evening.

His begging made your cunt clench tight around him and a strangled sound escaped his chest.

“Since you asked so nicely, little pet, you can come.”

Lando’s neck bulged even more, breaking the hold you had as he cried out in ecstasy. His hips thrusting up lifted you off the bed with him and you gasped at how deep he buried himself, painting your walls with his come. Spent and panting, he sagged back into the mattress, his arms falling limp around his head and he whimpered when you rolled your hips.

“You still have one left in you, don’t you, my little pet?”

He mumbled incoherently as you continued to ride him, his cock still hard and ready for you.

“I’ll let you rest soon,” you promised. “Just one more, do you have one more in you?”

His eyes fluttered open with the want to please you and he gave the smallest of nods that you rewarded with a smile. “Good boy.”

[hellishjoel]

on call

7.5k / pairing: cardiothoracic surgeon!javier peña x resident surgeon f!reader

main masterlist | notifications blog

summary: Javier Peña - a shark of a surgeon - is the head of Cardiothoracic Surgery and you're on his service for the week. After letting you take lead on a risky surgery, you crave what else he can teach you. warnings/information:  MA 18+ (minors DNI), doctors performing surgery but no gore, medical talk (open heart surgery performed, mention of aneurysms and paralysis), both Javi and reader are surgeons, implied but unspecified age gap (Javier is an attending surgeon, reader is a resident surgeon), sex in an on call room (rooms in the hospital where the staff can catch some zzz's), swearing, size kink, praise & degradation kink with accompanied dirty talk, competency kink, (un)affectionate pet names, fingering, oral cleanup (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), unprotected p in v, creampie reader is described having hair and wears surgical scrubs, but otherwise (I believe) no physical description, no use of y/n A/N: FYI the only knowledge about hospitals or doctors I know is from Grey's Anatomy, so expect some drama and inaccuracies! beta’d by the lovely @thetriumphantpanda! spanish assistance by the talented @undercoverpena! banner made by me!

Any doctor will tell you that smoking cigarettes has a well-documented history of negative health risks. 

Smoking can significantly increase the risk of various health problems, including cardiovascular diseases, lung cancer, respiratory issues, and, most importantly, to a surgeon, how delicate your tissue is. It shreds during stitching, falls apart in between gloved fingers, and increases the risk of infection. 

So why does Javier Peña, the Head of Cardiothoracic Surgery, smoke? 

Probably because he thinks he’s God. Galavanting through the surgical wing in his dark navy scrubs. The attending flirts with every nurse who passes his eyeline, sweet-talks his residents, and charms each patient he consults. 

Beneath all that, he was a ruthless shark of a surgeon. Driven to the point of recklessness. Stealing surgeries out from under fellow doctors, commandeering ORs, and always proving to be the smartest in the room. He knew when to bark and, more importantly, when to bite. 

Javier Peña was a piece of goddamn work. 

The operating room is the only time he’s silent. Espresso eyes narrowed on the surgical field, fingers succinct and persuasive like he’s giving the most delicate organ in the world a compelling speech: to live, to keep beating, to pump blood until it simply cannot. 

He’s impressive, really. 

Standing on the opposite side of the patient on the table, watching him work, you nearly forget how handsome he is behind his mask. If you weren’t such a great resident, you’d be more impressed by his looks than his hands. 

But his hands… they were brilliant. 

Peña was steady. Every movement is filled with confidence; they don’t stutter or flinch. He operates with wonderful dexterity, switching between both hands, neither more dominant than the other. Instrumental and graceful, like a maestro conducting a large orchestra. 

This was his stage, the surgical instruments were his props and everyone in his OR was simply an extra. He was a star; everyone knew it. But no one knew it more than you, his third-year surgical resident on his cardio service for the week. 

His years of training bleed through his expertise, and shine in a way that makes you remember why you signed up for so many years of medical school, dropped top dollar on an education to get you here, and then granted residency at one of the finest hospitals in the country. 

You were good. Peña was great. 

As his resident, you must prove nothing but useful. He’s not a natural teacher, the way his brain drives allows no one in his passenger seat. But you’re keen on declaring on cardio, and you’ve been the resident by his side for most of this year. He doesn’t need your help. He can do this all by himself, so all you can do is prove yourself useful. 

You must anticipate his needs and next move, watching him progress from step one to final completion. 

But this surgery was unexpected. Unplanned. Most heart surgeries end up being accidental, arising from complications during a routine surgery. The patient on the table before you was scheduled for a general procedure but began presenting with heart issues during the operation.

Peña performs an aortic arch replacement. He starts with a #10 blade, making an incision along the sternum to access the aortic arch. 

“Retract all this tissue,” he mutters. 

It takes you by surprise because his OR is radio silent. He talks in his head, not to you, ever. 

“Me?” 

“Are you really asking me that?” His tone twitches with irritation, but you do as he asks before he can disregard and bury your anticipation. It allows for more exposure, and he’s back to work. He cannulates the patient for CPB, working through the right atrium and then the aorta. 

“Proper placement?”

You nod before you remember he’s still staring down at the patient’s heart. “Yes.” 

Doctor Javier Peña is the commander of his OR. Which makes you all the more confused as to why he decides to put you in the driver’s seat. Or rather, the hot seat.  

“Okay, we’re going to arrest the heart using cardioplegia purposely. What’s next?”

Your mouth is going dry; it takes you a moment to find your words. You should know the answer, even without having prepared. He just makes you nervous. “We need to use myocardial protection techniques to minimize… ischemic damage?”

His eyes snap up, glaring, cold as ice. “Are you asking me? Or are you telling me?”

You force down the lump in your throat and take in a shaky breath. “Telling?” 

He cocks his eyebrow in annoyance. 

“Telling.” You say more confidently, nodding before he sighs. He wanes his options in his head before his eyes start to soften. He must feel at slight ease talking to a resident who isn’t a fucking moron. 

“Okay. You’ll deliver the cardioplegia solution and monitor its function.”

You let out a breath of relief, perhaps too big of one, because Peña smirks and tuts at your shift in breath. 

“You’re not a complete waste of space in this surgical program after all. Congrats.” 

After willing yourself to bite your tongue, you watch him proceed with the arch repair. He returns to silence as he carefully dissects the aorta, amber eyes admiring each of the strong branches like that of a great oak tree. 

“Name them.” 

Eyes meeting his over the operating table, Peña waits. He’s testing you, pushing you towards greatness or failure. He wants to see where you fall—if you’re worthy to be in his OR, opposite of him, learning under his greatness, or if you’re a waste of his time and talent. 

“You’re a third-year resident, I knew this by my second,” he grinds, “all the books I’ve seen you read in the cafeteria should have told you this. Name them.” 

He watches you, it wasn’t just in your head - the magnetic stare you can feel from across the room that makes the hair on your arms stick up. He watches, he knows you’re capable. “Not gonna get by just on looks here, Doctor.” 

Dragging your eyes away from his intense stare, you loosen your jaw and line your fingers over each strong branch, starting at the trunk of the tree. “The left subclavian artery, left common carotid artery, the innominate artery-”

Peña raises his gloved hand, seeing the gentle smear of blood along his fingertips and palm. “Stop.”

Your eyes squint heatedly, feeling your chest tighten. “I can finish, I know them-”

“Stop, damn it,” he barks louder, his eyes shifting away from yours and across the room. He wasn’t listening to you; he was listening to the heart. Doctor Peña tilts his head to the monitor, watching the heart shift its beats. “Doctor, identify the pathology.” 

You shift on your feet, the nerves throughout your arms leave you feeling shaky. Something was wrong. “The aortic arch, it shows…” Closing your eyes helps you focus, ignoring the crowd in the overhead gallery, forgetting the patient on the table just for a moment, and only listening to the beat on the monitor. 

“Pretty girl, not so smart,” he taunts with a shake of his head, the beeping on the monitor pitching louder and echoing hauntingly through your ears. You wished this room would swallow you whole, but that would be you admitting to cowardice. 

Peña takes a deep breath and looks between you and the monitor, “Alright, come on, open your eyes,” he instructs, guiding your hand off the retractor and along the heart’s wall. “What do you see?”

The commanding tone in his voice brings you out of your head and back to the patient. The room wavers and it goes silent. You don’t hear the erratic beeping of the machines, you don’t see the movement in the gallery. Doctor Peña is in front of you, calm and focused. Because he trusts that you know what’s wrong. 

The aortic wall bulged out of its normal shape. It looked weak, stretched out, thin, and nearly translucent. You see the saccular protrusion, lips parting at the discovery. 

“He’s—was there an aneurysm? He had an aneurysm?” you ask with more panic in your voice than you had hoped. It must have been during the patient’s original procedure earlier in the day before you and Doctor Peña even scrubbed in. “We can’t do a repair or a replacement of the arch. We have to stop everything--” 

“So what are we gonna do, Doctor?” He probes, piercing dark eyes on you. Suddenly, your height shrinks, and you feel only a few inches tall under his gaze. He’s so much older and wiser, and all you can do is panic. “What, you can't figure this out yourself? Four years of medical school, internship, and residency, don't fucking disappoint me now. Tell me how we fix it.”

Our brains hold endless files of knowledge. A doctor is not only supposed to keep files on how to perform a procedure but also what to do if one is horribly failing. But your brain only knows panic because until you become a brilliant surgeon, all you know is fear. 

“Should we page neuro? A-A neuro consult, his blood flow isn’t reaching his spine. He might be paralyzed.” 

Peña scoffs and shakes his head, “Hoping someone else comes to save you and fix your problems? What if I wasn’t standing here? You’re on your own, kid.” he spews, focusing his headlight back over the heart. “We don’t call neuro, the patient can’t wait that long. Come on,” he whittles away your confidence, fire in his eyes. “Come on!”  

You can’t seem to control your anger, feeling it ween down to something brittle and broken. You snap. “Doctor Peña, respectfully shut the hell up. We’re gonna fix the aneurysm sac.”

“How?” He’s quick on the whip, and it feels like your lungs might give out. “Come on, smart girl, tell me how.” 

“You’re-You’re gonna use the sac to bring blood back to the spinal cord. He’s only paralyzed because the aorta isn’t able to send blood to his spine. You replace the aorta with a Dacron graft and rebuild the aneurysm into a second aorta.” It’s spoken with half confidence, but your eyes are fiercely stubborn. 

“Its only job is to send blood to the spine,” he mutters in agreement, hands already at work. 

“Like the freeway being blocked by traffic, you take a side road. Or, in this case, you’re building the side road.” 

He momentarily pauses his hands, pretty brown eyes searching yours. He stares you down longer than anticipated, and suddenly, the air feels charged. Heat tingles up your spine, and you find yourself challenging his stare. 

You deserve to be in this OR. You’re good, but Peña is great. And you will be great once you learn more from him. Him and his stupid fucking- brilliant hands.  

“I’m not building the side road; we are,” he corrects, and he asks the scrub nurses to give him the supplies for constructing the graph. 

Finally, his cheeks perk up, and a small smirk hides under his mask. “Suction, Doctor. Prep some 6-0 of prolene. We’re gonna need it.” Peña spends the next few hours teaching you how to reroute the aneurysm and restore blood flow, allowing you to reconstruct and place the graph. 

You and Peña are a well-oiled machine. He lets you take the lead under his supervision. It’s impossible not to scream inside your head about this moment. You feel like you’re floating, no longer panicking. Your fingers weave with an indescribable amount of delicacy. It feels like braiding hair, the way your fingers know where to move, the muscle movements natural despite never having done this procedure before. 

What a fucking high. And you’ve always been such an adrenaline junkie. 

Once word got out around the hospital that Peña was doing this incredible and unexpected surgery, the gallery was all standing and fighting for room to glance out the over-viewing window. And you were there, across from him the entire time. Every surgeon in your class is sitting in the gallery, damn jealous of you.

Peña watches you close up the patient and says nothing; you were perfection. 

You huff loudly upon completion, watching as Peña wipes his forearm across the sweat on his forehead. You despise him in this moment. Thankfulness fights your need for social justice. He can’t talk to you like that, belittle you, squish whatever confidence you had left. But you’re exhausted now and don’t feel like snapping in front of half the hospital. 

“We won’t know if he has full function until he’s awake. Page neuro and tell them they have a post-consult waiting for them.” His voice drips with exhaustion, rolling out his shoulders as he speaks, and you can’t help but watch as the broad muscles move under his shirt, tan skin now visible after the medical gown has been removed. 

Trailing behind him out of the OR, you strip your surgical gloves, gown, and mask in the trash as you try to calm your adrenaline. It never stopped beating; your heart, the strong and beautiful organ that it was, never stopped pounding. You can hear it in your ears, in your pulse, even thudding excitedly against your neck. 

It beat for your ambition, it beat for Doctor Peña. He’d never see you as his equal. Hell, he’d never see anyone as his equal. But today, he taught you. And you can’t think why. He has barely done his duty all year despite working at a teaching hospital where the residents are nearly quizzed on the minute by their attendings. 

Peña didn’t think anyone was worth his time, but he saw something in you today. Despite being thankful, you can’t help the anger you feel bubbling up as he smirks at you from down the hall. 

“What the hell, Peña?” 

Oh shit. 

The head of neurosurgery stomps down the hall in his navy blue scrubs, graying hair tucked under a scrub cap decorated by EEG waveforms. His eyes are narrowed on Peña, pointed finger at the ready. 

“Who the hell do you think you are? Your patient goes into paralysis and you don’t think to page me?”

Peña merely shrugs and sets his hands on his hips. “I did think to page you. And decided not to.” 

The head of neurosurgery scoffs in disbelief, raising his voice to a shout. “You’re too fucking- cocky for your own good! I could have done an assessment, they could gotten spinal cord ischemia- and a third-year resident of all people performing that surgery? What the hell were you thinking?!”

Fuck. Now you were brought into this, and standing at the end of the hallway couldn’t be farther away. Peña was as solid as stone, heat didn’t faze him. “She had it under control. She was perfect.”

Perfect. 

Neuro seems to smirk lightly, brain doctors who love to play mind games. “You two screwin’ around in the on-call rooms, too? Is that why you let her in on that surgery a fifth year couldn’t even perform? You pull that shit again, and I’ll-”

“You’ll what?”

Peña steps closer, narrowing his eyes on the short little man whose bark was louder than his bite. 

Neuro stutters for a moment, his posture shrinking. You can’t help but smirk, almost a little lightheaded at the way he steps in to protect your credibility. Peña was a dangerous surgeon to stick around with. His arrogance, next to his skills in the OR, could be taught by accident. 

Neuro grabs onto a slipping rope and sniffs as he glances around at the onlookers in the hallway. “Don’t think I won’t tell the Chief about what happened today. You and her are on thin ice.”

Peña smirks and pats his shoulder in a futile manner, pulling loose his scrub cap and running a hand through his jet-black tresses. “She had it under control. I wouldn’t have let her do anything she couldn’t handle. And if you talk about her like that again, I’ll knock your fuckin’ teeth out.” 

Peña’s already walking away, back to the angry little man. 

Your stomach bubbles with something unfamiliar, slipping behind the elbow of the wall and taking a shaky breath. You can’t feel anything besides the buzzing in your brain and the tremble in your hands. 

Doctor Javier Peña was defending your fucking honor. 

In Javier’s eyes, any surgeon can walk into an operating room and follow the procedure's already-written steps. They can rehearse, practice, and prep all they want. But the beauty of surgery was that it was both a science and an art. 

The heart was such an intricate, unpredictable thing. Healthy one minute, broken the next. 

Javier loves to read, but only for the plot twist endings—the ones you don’t see coming—which add richness to the story and make you fall deeper into the mystery. 

That’s why he loves the heart because it isn’t easy. It’s a challenge. He also loves that hearts make him feel special because not everyone can handle operating on a heart. That’s why people choose easier specialties. Cardio was hardcore. Javier was hardcore. 

Despite how difficult a cardio surgery can be, the surgeon must be gentle. Going too fast leads to mistakes. 

As if driving on black ice, you can’t twist your wheel too fast, or you’ll spin out and crash.  He was like that during his internship, even into his residency, but he carried raw talent that no one else could compare to. He was the star of his class, a surgeon who felt like he was more than a doctor, more than a God. A preacher to the soulless, a guide to the lost. He was his patient’s light at the end of the tunnel. He saved their fucking lives. 

In his eyes, heart surgeons needed to be sharks. He never met a shark who wasn’t fierce and damn near evil. It’s critical to success; to be a shark in the water, eager to see crimson. 

You were no shark—not yet. But your drive, dedication to the art, and willingness to work with him set you apart. He knows he’s not easy. But he’s never liked easy anyway. 

Javier slowly slumps down onto the edge of an on-call bed, smacking the light switch so damn hard that he thought he broke it. The room sinks into darkness, a velvet blanket of blue from the slight night sky slipping past the blinds. 

He was exhausted after today, the hours of his day stolen by back-to-back surgeries. His back ached, and his knees were screaming at him. But the comfort of a bed wasn’t all that he craved. 

You were brilliant, purring like a kitten whenever Javier stroked your ego. A younger colleague impressed him for the first time in months. 

God, you were young. What—ten years his junior? More? 

His face fell into his hands, heat flushing into his stomach at the thought of you. 

When he’s in surgery, the heart is all he can think about. But your eyes were on him for hours, watching him, learning from him—God, the things he could teach you. 

Suddenly, the door clicks open, and light floods the room, causing Javi to drop his head and squint. 

“We need to speak, Doctor Peña,” your silken voice evokes a sense of long-lost courage.  

You’re the last person who should be in his on-call room.

He groans and stands, eyes cast on your hand still nervously caught on the door handle. “Not now.” 

“Yes, now,” your voice wavers as you click the lock and cross your arms. His eyes drag over your body, hugged by the comfort of your soft blue scrubs. He can tell it’s taking everything in your body to control your temper, as he is still technically your boss. “You can’t just belittle me in front of the entire OR. No more calling me princess, no more calling me pretty. I’m a lot more than those pathetic superficial names, and you know it.” 

Javier runs his fingers down his nose, mutters something incoherent, and plants his hands on his hips before curtly jerking his head expectantly. “I said not now.” 

“You push me, you push me around, you push me in the OR, you just don’t stop-”

He snaps. 

“I push you to be great!” His brown eyes nearly turn obsidian as he locks you in his gaze. “You’ll be a better doctor when I’m done with you. You should be thanking me.”

You scoff indignantly and throw up your hands in frustration. You’re so fucking cute when you’re upset. “Thanking you?”

“Yeah. Thanking me. My ass is on the burner because I let you perform that surgery.”

“The one not even fifth-year residents could perform?”  

Peña pauses, his jaw shifting from left to right as he glances at the room's corner. “You heard all that, huh?”

There’s a lull, one that signifies you both know that he stepped in to defend his choices in the OR; specifically defending you. He watches as you slowly nod, pulling your hand off the doorknob and crossing your arms over your chest. 

“You didn’t have to do that. Now it looks like you favor me. I’m gonna get chewed out by the other surgeons, not to mention my entire class is going to think I’m sleeping with you.” 

Pena shrugs and purses his lips. “Let ‘em.”

He watches as your lips part, taken aback by his words. After a few doe-eyed blinks from you, the room falls out of focus, and it doesn’t feel like he’s standing in the hospital anymore. 

Javi imagines you in places he shouldn’t. At his place, in his apartment. On the couch. In his bed. He thinks about how different you’d look in the light of day, your body curved by jeans or even a sundress if the weather allowed. He’d be privy to the freckles on your back and shoulders, the dips of your hips, the slope of your body he wants to memorize with his eyes closed. 

But fantasizing wasn’t enough. 

“Let ‘em,” he mutters, low, and enclosing the space between your bodies. “If they already think that, let ‘em. Fuck ‘em.” 

Your face visibly softens, and your head naturally leaning into his hand that rests on your cheek. 

“I want you to teach me,” you whisper to him. And it’s so fucking soft, so sweet dripping from your lips, almost whining with need. 

He slowly nods as the room falls silent, Javi’s opposite hand coming to your hip, flushing your body against his. 

“Okay, cariño, I’ll teach you.” 

“Teach me,” you plead again, your chest heaving with anticipation. His eyes fall to the way your breasts protrude with each breath you take in your scrubs. The emotion that stirs in the room is enough to start a full-blown hurricane. 

Javi’s hands fall to the hem of your top, and you raise your arms swiftly, so pliant to his touches. But that’s your job, to anticipate his needs. 

The sight of your skin alone is enough to make his shoulders tighten, seeing you all pretty and exposed. A knot begins to grow in his stomach. But no, you weren’t done yet. 

“Please, Doctor Peña,”

No, don’t fucking beg. 

“I want you to use your hands and teach me.” Insistently, your fingers dip into your scrub bottoms, his eyes catching the pretty black band of your panties before the material is pooled on the floor. 

You stand there with soft eyes, wide and expecting. The longer he stands here, not touching you, it damn near looks like he’s hurting your feelings. But he’s not stupid enough to leave you abandoned. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, closing the distance in a matter of a second, his hands on your hips as he yanks your body into his firm front.

The kiss is tangled and heated, desperate and needy, so different compared to the subtle dance you both played before. But now it’s so obvious the pure need that consumes you both. 

Your small fists clutch his broad shoulders, and you moan into his mouth purely at the muscle built into his toned body. He licks into your mouth, and all he can think is how fucking sweet you taste. And how your pussy probably tastes just as sweet. 

Your fingers blindly reach for the light switch, flicking them off and sinking you into midnight once again. 

Javi tuts and shakes his head, breaking the kiss as he glares down at you. “You wanna see my hands work, cielo? Then you gotta watch.” He mutters as he flicks the switch back on, guiding you into the lower bunk of the on-call beds. 

He likes the way your hand slips from his cheek to the back of his neck, fingers gentle at first before clutching at the hair on his nape. 

Javi lets out an unexpected moan into your mouth as his body slots perfectly between your legs. His rough and calloused hands explore the smooth skin of your outer thighs. He squeezes and cradles the flesh with the perfect balance of strength and delicacy, the coarse hairs of his mustache scratching your skin as he presses kisses over your exposed breasts. 

He craves every breath that you take because of him, because of his actions. Your reactions are honest and instinctual, watching as you bite down on your lip because God forbid anyone saw you sneak into his room. 

Javi’s fingers are just as you expect, expertise as he unclips your bra with ease. He snatches away the black material, your nipples sensitive to the cool air as they peak under his eyeline. 

“Christ,” he mutters, his hot mouth on them in an instant. His tongue circles them meticulously before he suckles, lifting his head and watching as your breast is tugged into his mouth. A whine slips past your lips and he feels your legs tug tighter around his waist. It’s enough to get him hard, the way you won’t let him go, because this feels way too fucking good to stop. 

“Doctor Peña-”

“Javi,” he mutters upon letting your nipple go with a pop, moving to the other and showing it just as much affection, letting his teeth gently nip at the sensitive peak. “So fuckin’ pretty, princesa,” he mutters before sucking on a spot just above your breast, a place to mark his territory. 

You gasp at the feeling of his hot mouth on your skin, goosebumps flooding to his touches. You glance down through barely-open eyes as the skin changes color, from red to a soft purple as he draws blood to the surface. His teeth marks are still there even after he leaves, a smirk on his face as he slips lower to between your legs. 

“Javi, please,” you muster up, trying to regather air in your lungs. 

He shifts to his knees, one arm straight and hand planted beside your head as he hovers over you, the other finally slipping between your legs. Your lips part as he slowly swipes two up your center, seeing what makes you tick. 

His smirk widens as your eyes roll to the back of your head, biting down on the plush of your lower lip again to conceal a moan that surely would have slipped. He spreads you, letting his thumb pads delicately circle your clit experimentally. “So fucking wet for me.” 

Just as a moan emits, his hand is clamped over your mouth. 

“Shh, shh, shh,” he degrades, your eyes wide as the circles continue achingly. “Into my hand, baby girl, don’t want anyone else to hear you. Just me.” 

Your thighs begin to tremble as his thumb experiments on you, and you realize he’s learning. Everything is about learning for him. He learns and studies the heart, now he’s studying what makes you fucking soaked for him. 

The slow circles are enough to get you going, but as he continues to pick up the pace, he realizes you need more more more. 

His thumb moves faster and surfs the edges, it makes you twitch under him. His smirk widens as two of his fingers glide up and down your wet center, your hips nudging upward with neediness. 

“Wanna hear you,” he mutters, but you’re so scared to let out a peep. In this fog, you can’t even remember if you locked the door, and now your heart is pounding against your chest, the beautiful muscle that it is. 

“Come on,” he says goadingly, pushing two fingers into your entrance. Your eyes blow wide as you let out a soft sigh into his palm, followed by a wimpy whine. “Give it to me,” he mutters as his fingers start to move through your tight heat. He’s trying to find it, working himself deeper and deeper, curling them just right and finally-

His hand clamps harder down on your mouth as you let out a loud cry, eyes shutting hard as your body writhes against him. You leak out against his fingers, hearing them squish with your arousal as he smirks. “That’s fuckin’ right, feels so good to let it out, doesn’t it? You can gimme more,” he encourages, and you don’t think you fucking can. 

But he works against you so feverishly, the combination of his thumb on your clit and fingers fucking your entrance, once the seal was broken, it was hard to contain it. 

“Fuck!” You cry out as he scissors you open, separating his fingers and forcing your entrance to work itself wider for him. The noises are obscene, soaking his fingers as he continues to plunge so deeply into you. Your hand shakily reaches up to the bicep bulging beside your head, nails sinking into his tan flesh. 

His movements have your thighs beginning to shake as he searches, still learning, looking for that one spot that has you breathless. Then it fucking sucks the air from your lungs. 

You gasp against his hand and clutch his wrist desperately, feeling him massage the sweet, spongy part inside of you that has sparks going off at the base of your spine. Your eyes begin to water at the overwhelmingness of it all, him and his stupid fucking perfect hands. 

“Javi,” you pant against his mouth, because something indescribable is building. Your back arches against his body. He doesn’t even need to look at what he’s doing, he’s so distracted in watching you unfold. 

Finally, it’s all too much, and he’s got you in the palm of his hand. You can’t help but bite into his palm as you sob against his hand, his fingers so perfect inside of you, leading you to the crescendo of your orgasm. The build leaves you lightheaded, your thighs twitching against his hips as he purrs your name. 

“Just wanna little taste,” he mutters as he finally slips his hand from your mouth, still feeling the burn of your pretty bite. His chest lands on the mattress, and you sit up a bit to allow him space. 

Javi’s arms wrap around your legs, hands now on your inner thighs as he helps spread you open. You whimper, still so sensitive that you nearly twitch away as he moves in. “Aww, come here, sweet girl. Know you taste so good, don’t you?” 

You weakly nod and sink back into the mattress, your eyes falling closed as he slowly sponges kisses to your warm inner thighs. Your hole still puckers for the loss of his fingers, a groan leaving his throat at the sight. He teasingly flicks his tongue against your twitching clit, and it’s enough to make your entire body seize. 

“So fucking sensitive,” he mutters adoringly, spreading your labia and letting his tongue flush against the juices that soak his tongue. He audibly grunts against you and works slowly to clean you up. His eyes meet yours, and he reads your wrecked face instantly. 

You let out a hesitant moan, your fingers tiredly weaving into his dark locks and nails gently scratching along his scalp. His mustache tickles your clit and you try to breath through the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

He was right, his hands were fucking perfect. Look at the way he learned your body, what it was chasing after, how it could be healed with his touch. You only with to give him the same. 

You sit up off your elbows, and he looks up at you with your arousal sitting silkily across his mustache. You cup his jaw, and he sits up with you, your mouth landing on his. You taste yourself, and it almost makes you shy, knowing Doctor Peña has tasted you. More importantly, made you cum with nothing more than his fingers. 

The opportunity to touch his body is one you didn’t realize you craved, small palms moving down his front. On instinct, he parts from your kiss and pulls his scrub top off. And God, you were right with every assumption. 

You knew he worked out, all cardio Gods adhere to the rule of working out to keep the heart muscle strong, but this was a different kind of strong. He was a Greek marble statue, all arms and toned chest and a waist you could easily tangle your legs around. 

“Jesus,” you breathe out.

Javi smirks confidently, his large hands cupping your face once more and tangling his tongue with yours. You swallow the lump in your throat and move your hand to his upper thigh, coasting your hand along until you feel his shaft protruding against his scrubs. 

“Take ‘em off,” you whisper. 

“Are you asking me or telling me?” He asks confidently, forcing a grunt out of your mouth as you tug against the hem. 

“Telling. Now off with them.” You command. 

He tuts as he stands from the mattress. “That’s my girl,” he mutters proudly, circling his thumbs along the waist of his scrubs before pushing them down, briefs included, stepping out of the material that pooled around his feet. 

You slowly raise an eyebrow, your lips parting at his size. No wonder he was so cocky. You sit at the edge of the on-call bed and he steps forward knowingly. 

“S’okay, pretty girl. Just wanna make you feel good.” 

You stubbornly shake your head and take his hands, guiding him closer as your doe-eyes meet his melting brown ones. 

“I can do it.” Wrapping a hand slowly around his length, your other hand rests on his thigh to allow some security. 

He takes in a slow breath, his eyes growing heavy as you spit along his length. 

“Fuck,” he mutters as his large hand gently comes to rest on the back of your head, fingers intertwining in your hair as he begins to clutch them possessively. 

It felt so good to be the one in charge, to be his guidance. He wants you so badly, your hot mouth wrapped around him, begging for his own release just as you were. 

You sponge kisses along his length, watching him almost in a taunting way, because you know he’s going to fall apart before you. Flatting your tongue and sticking it out, he grunts at the sight. Leaning forward, you take him in your mouth. Your tongue circles his beady tip and you get to enjoy the taste of his pre-cum on your tastebuds. 

He’s salty and musky, hours after a long surgery and it tastes divine. All man. All Javier Peña. 

Javi’s breaths are getting faster as you begin to bob your head, taking him inch by inch until you felt comfortable enough to really go for it. 

“Such a fucking- overachiever,” he grins, your nose brushing against the coarse hair along his base as your eyes clench closed, choking around him but not letting off. “Holy fuck,” he moans. Your nails sink into his thigh and he hisses, your one and only reminder for him to stay quiet. He pulls off with a pop, leaving you pouting as you stroke over his impressive length. He twitches in your hand and he’s so heavy in your palm. 

“Don’t want anyone to hear us, Peña,” you remind as you break to give kisses along his thigh where your nails created crescent moon shapes. 

“Got me so close, baby. Don’t wanna cum yet, though.” 

You pout but ultimately leave him with one last kiss to his shaft. 

Javi can’t seem to get enough of your kisses, tracing his tongue along your bottom lip as he moves you back onto the mattress once more. Your fingers glide down his body, feeling the ripples of his muscles that you hope stays engrained in your mind forever. 

Even if it’s just a one-time thing, you wouldn’t mind storing the way he makes you unfold so effortlessly, caring to learn your body and its cravings. 

“Please, Javi,” you whimper against his mouth, feeling the warmth of his body slipping between yours once again, and it feels like a home. “Need you.” 

He nods breathlessly against you, propping up the pillow behind your head. You’re not sure why it gives you butterflies, taking care of you more than just sexually. But he pats the pillow a few times nonetheless and centers it to the back of your head, not stopping until you’re smiling up at him. 

Your hand cradles his jawline, thumb gliding across his chin before his mouth is back on yours. His lips part as your gasp enters his mouth, feeling his hand guide his tip from your clit to your leaking entrance. 

“Wet all over again,” he mutters against your mouth, but acting surprised is pointless. 

“Uh huh,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before letting him envelop you fully. 

Javier listens to you, reads your body language. He feels you grow tense as his tip nudges at your entrance, feeling your legs tighten hesitantly around his waist. 

Your hands are soft on his back, moving along the carved muscles and following their runs like wild rivers. Perhaps it is a way you calm your nerves, touching his warm skin relaxes your walls. He’s able to push onward. 

“Jesus- Javi,” you whimper, letting him sink his length fully into you until he bottoms out in one thrust that leaves him groaning. The pillow he’s laid down for you is held by his fist, the veins down his arms bulging against your head. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” his chest rumbles, Javi starting to find a rhythm as he guides his length in and out of you. 

The first couple of strokes are dragging, aching. It’s hard to breathe and your nose brushes against his neck. 

Javier is so lost in the feeling of you, your tight little cunt squeezing repeatedly around his cock. The hand not holding him up runs up the side of your body, first on the outside of your thigh, then moving upwards to squeeze your ass in his large palm. You moan into his ear, and he does it again, both of you smirking against the kiss. Then he’s on your hip, following the pretty curve before he wraps his arm on the underside of your body, cradling your shoulder. 

It’s like a seatbelt clicking in, gasping as you feel him lock you into place. Your eyes widen as you look up at him, Javi coming to rest his forehead against yours as he begins to snap his hips. 

With the change in pace, the energy becomes charged with something less delicate. It’s like you were witnessing Javier’s two-sided personality, trying to learn and teach, and now, the arrogant, cocky shark. 

The drag, once painful, now feels heavenly, the ache becoming a sedative that has you cooing for more. He’s more relentless now, hips snapping into yours that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your jaw points to the ceiling, and he sees the opportunity for his lips to latch onto your neck. 

At the height of sensitivity, you feel everything. The sweat trickling down your temple, his teeth carving marks on your neck, your breasts pressed against his toned front; he’s all encapsulating. 

You whine as you squeeze around his cock, his hand on your shoulder pressing harder into your skin. He keeps you there, pounding into you, the coarse dark hair grinding against your clit so perfectly. Your core tightens, and you feel your second orgasm begin at its crest. He must be close, too, because he’s driving into you with ferocity. 

“Javi,” you cry against his neck, your nose brushing against his tousled hair, “I-I can’t.”

Javier shakes his head and moves the hand on your shoulder down between your bodies, finding your quivering clit and adding pressure to the small ministrations he starts on. His lips move to your ear, placing a kiss against the outer shell. 

“You can,” he demands in a stern tone, his hot pants fanning against your face as his aquiline nose nudges your cheekbone, “you can give me another one, cariño.”

He wants to see your star explode. See you dissolve before him into a million tiny sparks, fizzling into the night sky so he can take your beauty in fully, from inner soul to outer exterior. You were slipping into the void before him like a firework bursting. 

“Fuck, I can,” you pant, your head dropping back onto the pillow as heat slips down your spine and your vision goes dark. 

You squeeze his cock repeatedly as your orgasm surges through you, back arching off the mattress and your legs tightening around his slim waist. He can feel your pulsing clit against the pad of his thumb, feeling you gush around his dick as his balls slapping against your core grow slick with your arousal. 

From below, your vision is hazy, and he looks so fucking handsome. The surgical mask doesn’t do him justice. 

“You can come inside me,” you whisper as you lean in and nibble his earlobe, hearing him grunt at your comment. 

“Christ,” he mutters, “you have no idea what you do to me.” Javi gently tugs on your lower lip before he distracts himself with your kisses. His snapping hips begin to lose their rhythm, becoming more sloppy and erratic.

He was chasing the feeling, distracted by how perfect you were for him today.

The vein along his temple bulges as his desperate espresso eyes meet yours. All he needs to see is that little smirk of yours, and it sends him over the edge. 

His jaw drops, and a silent moan wants to slip out desperately, but somehow, he’s able to conceal it with low grunts of something that resembles your name.

You begin to feel his warmth spread through your core, making your insides fuzzy. He trembles; you both do. It feels like he comes for forever, but frankly, you don’t want it to stop. 

This feeling sits still inside you, humbles you, and centers you with the universe. Your life is hectic, and for one hour today, you’re not running around from one room to the next or getting chewed out by the senior doctors. This was the perfect stress relief; Javier Peña was a damn good break. 

His strong body collapses over yours, and any residual strength he has left is being held by a tiny string that keeps you from being crushed. 

He lays on his side, shoulder blades pressed against the cold cinderblock wall. He buries his hand in his face, and you wonder if he regrets what he’s done. 

Did he? 

“Thanks,” you whisper, reaching blindly for scrubs and accidentally tossing on his scrub pants in your orgasmic haze. 

“For what? And those are mine. You can have them in a few years when you’re an attending.” He hums, smirking as he pulls the sheets up to cover his lower half. 

You scoff and pull off the pants, switching out for your own after you clasp your bra behind your back. 

“For the lessons.” 

He watches you change, slipping your shoes back on and fixing your hair in the mirror. You try to ignore the feeling of his come slipping out of you, your legs as wobbly as a newborn calf. 

“Yeah? What did you learn?” He cocks an eyebrow and blindly reaches for a pack of cigarettes on the windowsill, propping open the window a few inches. 

Your eyes scan over him slowly as you tighten the tie on your scrub bottoms, a slow smirk gradually growing on your lips. 

“I know why you smoke.” 

Ignoring his intrigued face, you flip off the lights and leave his on-call room in a midnight blue film. The heavy door inches open, light shedding through and inching into the darkness. It clicks closed behind you just as your pager goes off, seeing that there is a message coming through for your newly reconstructed aortic arch patient. 

“Shit,” you mutter. 

The door swooshes open behind you, and Peña reappears dressed in his navy scrubs, surging past you. His shoulder knocks yours on the way out, and you can’t help but scoff. 

“Let’s go. Pick up the pace,” His voice is raspy and tired, but you keep his stride as you work your way towards the intensive care unit. 

Doctor Peña glances back over his shoulder, his smirk mirroring your own.  

Even a shark has its vices. Perhaps after tonight, you’re Javi’s. 

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[kits-ships]

i gotta stop this is rotting my brain

[ohbother2]

Lucifer x m!reader

This became longer than I planned but I hope you enjoy! Warning that I'm better at f!reader so if I made any mistakes please let me know.

Requests are open :))

Lucifer x m!reader headcannons:

SFW

introductions first:

this man gets FLUSTERED when you show him 'proper' respect as the Ruler of Hell.

You're shy? You don't know what to do in the face of such royalty, such a powerful man. You attempt a bow, a low sweeping gesture that has you awkwardly bending at the waist and averting your gaze

Lucifer cannot help himself but think the display is adorable, hands resting against his cane, and an overly-confident smile gracing his face. He looks far too smug for his own good. He ignores the heat rising to his cheeks at seeing you stoop before him, fingers tapping at his cane as he watches you with a steady gaze, enjoying the way you flounder before him.

You're confident? You bow confidently, a mocking smile on your face, hands sweeping out to your sides in a little satirical theatrical display? You stare at him with a smirk, bright eyes from beneath dark locks?

Lucifer cannot ignore the heat rising to his cheeks, flustered at the overt display of... something.

He clears his throat quickly and has to look away, your gaze too much as you straighten and fix your clothing.

He will certainly remember that look later.

When he first meets you his interest in piqued, and this man falls hard and fast. Like a piece of gum stuck to your shoe, you cannot be rid of him.

He 'just so happens' to be in the same parts of Hell as you, running 'errands' despite his many servants.

Conveniently he just so happens to have a gift ready when he bumps into you. A donut? A bouquet of flowers? A rubber duck? You leave all of these interactions carrying something in your hands.

The first time you ask to meet him? Practically skips home, and rings Charlie straight away. He doesn't stop thinking about your not-a-date until it actually happens. And then he can't stop thinking about it afterward.

He constantly fiddles with his cane, and uses it often to tease you.

Taller than him? He uses it to tap against your shoulders and head to grab your attention, reprimanding you with a flirty tug of his cane, drawing you down to his level.

He loves pulling you down to his height from your tie or from the lapels of your jacket, pressing a long kiss through a grin against your lips. He always makes sure to straighten your garments back out when he's finished with you.

Shorter than him? He constantly swings his arms over your shoulders and waist, tugging you closer and flushing you against his side. When you stand too far for his hands to reach, the cane corrals you towards him, guiding you into his side with incessant taps and tugs.

His favourite move is slotting the tip of his cane into one of your belt loops, yanking you closer and into his embrace. His fingers often find their way to your belt loops, tugging you closer no matter the situation.

This man is not the best cook, but he simply adores when you cook for him. He always offers to help, but spends most of the time in the kitchen leant against the counter top, sometimes sat atop the counter, watching you work with a fond little smile on his face. He really is whipped.

Lucifer's love language is words of affirmation, acts of service and physical touch.

He'll do anything to be closer to you: tugs you into his lap while he works at his desk, arms encircling your waist as he listens to you ramble about your day. He may not look like he's paying attention, and you keep getting distracted by the soft kisses he presses against your jaw as he works, but if you were to ever ask him to recite what you just told him? he could do it with ease.

Despite the abundance of furniture in his mansion, he always ends up sat practically on top of you, or drags you on top of him as he reads or watches TV. He loves having you close, and loves it even more if you reciprocate his touchy-ness.

Will melt if you absentmindedly run your hands through his hair as you read something next to him.

Loves seeing you wear his clothes, especially his coat. His outfit is unmistakeable, and when you wear it there is no question about who you belong to. Any excuse he slips it from his frame and drapes it across your shoulders. He refuses to take it back so you just continue to wear it the rest of the day.

Graces you each morning with a kiss on your forehead, leaving his lips pressed against you and his arms wrapped around your torso until you wake up. Only then does he grin and lean in for a proper kiss.

NSFW

LOVES blowjobs. Giving or receiving.

Receiving: he's a flustered mess. Cheeks flaming red and hands gripping at his armrests, his thighs, his own shirt.

He's vocal: one touch and he's gasping. Anything more than a feather-light touch has him outright begging and moaning.

Giving: loves using it as a way to help you relax. You've had a hard day? He's kneeling between your legs as soon as you sit on the sofa. Complaining about someone at work? His hands are already on your belt. You have a headache? Let him distract you (only if you consent).

Loves when you tug on his hair.

Call him a 'good boy' or a 'pretty boy' and he falls over himself trying to get to you.

Call him one of those cheekily in public? He's whisking you away to more secluded corners immediately, and he won't be told otherwise.

If he really can't whisk you away, you feel his hot gaze against you the rest of the day. He won't forget.

He's cheeky, and attentive, and is absolutely terrible at keeping his hands to himself.

There is constantly a hand at the small of your back, grasping at your thigh, your knee, your forearm, anything he can reach.

You know he's in the mood when he waltzes into your living room, plops himself directly into your lap, and grins.

He'll act all innocent at first, asking about your day, carding his hand through your hair, offering sympathetic nods and mutterings as you vent.

Then his lips find their way to your cheek, your jaw, your throat, hands sliding across your shoulders and down your chest.

You stop, eager to comply with his wants. But he always shushes your with a tut and tells you to keep going, keep telling him about your day.

He loves watching you slowly lose your composure, teasing and pushing at you until you finally snap and grab his neck and finally pull his lips to yours.

He moans, pushing himself into your chest and down into your hips. He loves when you finally take control.

He's not ashamed of how vocal he is; he moans, he cries, he begs. His voice breaks and he's whiny. Isn't satisfied until his voice is coarse and his throat hurts.

Especially loves when his head is pushed into the bedsheets as you thrust into him so he can be as loud as he wants without the risk of drawing any of his servant over.

The only time he really gets on 'top' is early morning sex. He can't have you exerting yourself before the day has even started can he?

Loves waking you up with kisses pressed against the nape of your neck, continuing around the base of your throat as you turn to embrace him.

He likes to take things gentle and slow, thrusting into you at a leisurely but firm pace, face tucked between your neck and shoulder as he kisses against the warming skin.

If you really want to take the reigns one morning, he won't stop you. Falling onto his back with a laugh and a grin. But oh how he loves laying on top of you, sheets tangled between you legs, bringing you to a slow and steady but powerful release.

He doesn't stop when you finish, continuing that same slow agonising pace, whispering praises in your ear as your hands entwine into his hair.

He always likes to rest afterwards, kissing at you and playing with your hand as he talks about the duties he has to complete that day. But before long he's always tugging you to the bathroom, chirping about you both being absolutely filthy and needing a shower, but that grin he sends your way tells you you'll barely be any cleaner afterwards.

[aemondsbabe]

Gevie

summary: you finally agree to go for a ride on sunfyre and your betrothed certainly makes it worth your while

pairing: aegon ii targaryen x reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, aegon being sickeningly sweet, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), breast/nipple play, dirty talk, doin' it on a dragon, gratuitous use of valyrian

word count: 4.5k

a/n: finally proving to myself that i can remain semi-tame with the word count, i bet y'all thought i couldn't do it!! they're fucking around on a dragon. he gets road head, except it's on sunfyre. they're very cute.

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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A high-pitched yelp rips its way from your throat as you feel Sunfyre move beneath you, stirring up dirt and dust from the floor of the Dragonpit as he beats his wings. Behind you, Aegon laughs, tightening his thighs around yours on the saddle and letting out an excited whoop as the dragon finally pushes off the ground. 

“Seven protect me!” You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut as soon as you see the world fall away beneath you as Sunfyre rises higher and higher into the air. 

“Eglikta, Sunfyre! Sȳz!” Aegon calls out, pulling at the reins on the dragon's saddle as he guides him up and out of the Dragonpit. “You need not be so worried,” he soothes you, his voice loud and clear behind you as he speaks over the air whipping around the two of you, “You are with a highly skilled rider, my lady.” He reminds you sarcastically. (Higher, Sunfyre! Good!)

You gasp loudly as Sunfyre tilts upward, making you lean heavily on Aegon, your back to his chest as the dragon flies higher into the air. “It is not the rider I am worried about!” You call over the rushing wind, not daring to open your eyes as you grasp onto the sturdy leather straps of the saddle, white knuckling the material. 

“Sunfyre is a part of me,” Aegon explains for the thousandth time, smiling as he steadies himself on the saddle, wide eyes flicking in every direction as he scans the skies, “I trust him with my life, and I trust him with you.”

This was a familiar argument, one you’d heard many times before over the previous months as Aegon tried time and time again to convince you to go riding with him; it was one of the first things he’d asked of you as soon as the courtship had been arranged nearly a year ago. 

You’d finally relented, much to the prince’s delight, when news of your marriage was officially announced. “Consider it an early wedding present, your grace,” you’d told him at the time. 

Oh, how you had come to regret those words now that your heart felt like it was in your throat, your hair whipping wildly in the air behind you as Sunfyre climbed ever higher. “M-My love,” you stuttered, trying your damnedest to keep your voice level, “Could we not stay closer to the ground?”

Aegon chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back even through the various layers you both wore to guard yourselves from the cold air. “Bē konīr, gaomagon jāre!” The prince spoke, Sunfyre grumbled beneath you in response. Although you did not understand the command, and certainly not the beast's response, you could feel the bond between your betrothed and his dragon — some invisible current connecting one to the other. (Almost there, keep going!)

“You should trust me more than this!” Aegon laughs, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to the side of your head, “You seemed to have plenty of it the night of the banquet last week,” he began in that brash, cocky tone you’d grown accustomed to, “When you let me shove my head up your dress in the gardens onc—"

“Aegon!” You chided, one hand abandoning the leather straps long enough to playfully swat him on the thigh. 

“What?” He asks, no doubt smirking deviously, “Surely there is no one to overhear us up here!” 

Suddenly, Sunfyre tilts forward, righting you in the saddle once again and making you let out an embarrassing squeal. “Gīda, Sunfyre! Dohaeris!” Some small amount of happiness at recognizing one of the words, dohaeris, manages to cut through the fear you feel, making you let out a small giggle. “Almost there, sweetling,” Aegon smiles, one of his hands abandoning the reins to wind around your waist instead, holding you securely to him, “You’ll love this.” (Calm, Sunfyre! Obey!)

Still squeezing your eyes shut, you nod wordlessly, tightly gripping onto his forearm, your thighs trembling around Sunfyre’s saddle. “Are we up very high?” You ask, your voice sounding small, even to your own ears. 

Aegon chuckles again, eyes scanning the horizon as the golden dragon finally breeches the clouds, “We’re just as high as we need to be, hush.” The vague answer makes you uneasy, but you do feel slightly calmer as you notice a change in the air. It’s calmer now, breezing around you like a soothing song, making your hair flutter about gently rather than whip at your face. It’s quieter too, you cannot even hear birdsong nor the rushing of air anymore, as if the two of you have entered a void. 

“Sȳz, Sunfyre. Gaomagon gīda.” Again, Sunfyre grumbles, his agreement to whatever Aegon commanded vibrating through your body. A moment later, the prince runs a hand through your hair, tenderly brushing it away from your face as he presses another light kiss to your cheek, one arm still holding onto you tightly. “Open your eyes, my love.” He says softly, resting his chin on your shoulder. (Good Sunfyre, keep steady.)

Cautiously, you do as he asks and slowly open your eyes. At first, you cannot see much, blinking to dispel the tears brought on by bright sunlight, but once your eyes finally adjust, you gasp. You can feel your eyes widen to the sight before you, one unlike any you’ve seen before. Aegon had brought you up above the clouds, the dreary grey skies that had once been above you now spread out below you like an endless pale sea. Up here, everything was so bright, slightly pink tinted from the sun, and so stunningly still and calm, the only movement coming from Sunfyre gliding through the air.

“Gods,” you breathe, your grip finally loosening somewhat on Aegon’s arm as you scan the skies before you, “Aegon, it’s…” You trail off, mouth hanging open at a loss for words. 

“Beautiful,” he finishes, though when you turn your head to him, his gaze is already fixed on you, the corners of his lips turned up into a barely there smile. 

You can feel your face heat up at his attention, suddenly all too aware of how much of your bodies are pressed together on the saddle, of how his arm is still wrapped so securely around you. Despite being so far up in the cool atmosphere, you can feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks, your heart beating faster as a pleasant, familiar coil starts spiraling in your stomach – your thighs tightening around the firm leather of the saddle in an attempt to press together. 

“You were right,” you smile contentedly at Aegon over your shoulder, “It is magical up here, my love. And so calm and quiet…” You let your voice trail off as you relax into his chest, his warmth encompassing you as Sunfyre continues gliding above the clouds, his beautiful golden scales gleaming in the early evening sunlight. 

Every once in a while, pockets in the thick cloud floor open up, giving you glimpses of green farmer’s fields, the blue water of lakes, or the dusty browns of the roads that litter Westeros. The pockets seem to zip by as quickly as they come, leaving you unsure of exactly where you are above the kingdoms. “I feel so far away from everything.” You conclude finally, a strange sense of calmness threading its way through the unease that still blankets your belly. 

“Precisely,” Aegon answers, a far-away look taking hold in his dark violet eyes, one you had grown used to seeing over the course of your courtship with the prince.

Now it seemed as if it was your turn to gaze at him instead of the view, letting him have a moment to himself as you admired him, eyes trailing over the gentle slope of his nose, the pout of his pink lips, the alabaster column of his neck. You couldn’t help but squeeze his forearm tighter, trying to ground him you suppose — ironic as it was — to save him from whatever snare he had been trapped in in his mind. 

All at once, whatever melancholy had taken hold of him seems to wash away with a small gasp as he comes back to himself, centering you with a calm smile, though to you it may as well be as dazzling as the sparkle of Sunfyre’s scales.

 “We are indeed far away up here, sweetling,” he drawls, the familiar smooth, cocky cadence back in his voice sending a shiver up your spine, butterflies erupting in your belly. “Away from court, away from guards,” he continues, trailing light kisses down the slope of your neck and onto your shoulder, relishing the way you sigh and go ever more limp against him, “Away from any prying eyes at all, really.” He finishes, raising his eyebrows in sarcastic surprise as he shrugs. 

You can’t help but laugh at his tone, morphing into an uncontained moan as his teeth lightly graze your shoulder, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end as your head tilts back against him. “Up here?” You ask, your voice already breathy.

He chuckles against you, low and dirty, “What better place is there, sweet girl?” He asks, rutting against you atop the saddle, making you gasp as you feel his hard length pressing against the small of your back, “There’s no one up here to stop us, no one to see us…” he husks, pressing wet kisses against your neck as his hand, the one not currently wrapped around you, abandons Sunfyre’s reins, coming instead to press against your breasts – his touch, even through your layers of clothing, making your nipples harden, the coil in your belly winding ever tighter. 

You whine as he touches you, unable to resist him even after all this time. “Aegon, please,” you whimper, gasping as you feel him unbuttoning your overcoat, sending a chill down your spine from the cold air against your skin. You’re unable to find it within yourself to care when you feel his warm hand, encased in a smooth leather glove, encompass your breast, lithe fingers immediately seeking out your nipple and teasing it relentlessly, “Oh, my love!” You gasp, grinding your hips down against the leather of Sunfyre’s saddle. 

He shushes you gently, teeth grazing against the side of your neck once more before you feel his lips curl into a smirk. Slowly, he removes his hand from where it’s nestled beneath your overcoat and dress, chuckling when you whine; quickly, he pulls off one of his riding gloves, tucking it securely into a coat pocket.  “Suck,” he says simply, pressing his fingers against your lips. You do as he says without complaint, running your tongue over the digits before properly sucking at them, moaning unabashedly when he presses them further against your tongue. “Gods,” he groans, voice deep and gravelly, “I love being in your sweet little mouth,” he murmurs, letting you suck contentedly for a moment longer, “Such a good girl, drooling around my fingers.”

His praise makes you moan, garbled around his fingers, as your eyes roll back in your head, your head bobbing as you suck, drool pooling at the corners of your lips as you lathe your tongue over his fingers. 

All too soon, he pulls them away, making you whine at the loss. However, that quickly turns into a loud, punched out moan when he resumes teasing your nipple, your spit instantly cooling in the air, which only serves to make the bud somehow harder. He groans with you as he spreads the slick around your breast, rutting his hard length against you.

“Sweetling,” he begins, a hint of taunting laughter in his voice, “Do you remember what we did during the last hunt? Hm? Hidden away in one of my tents?” 

You whimper, nodding as the memory floods back to you – the two of you sneaking away together during the final night of a large, week long, hunt, leaving everyone else feasting and dancing at the campfires. You were both giggling like children, half-drunk on Dornish wine, when you’d stumbled into one of Aegon’s tents, lips crashing together haphazardly in the dark. It had ended with you on your knees, taking the prince into your mouth as he leaned back against a storage chest, his hands tangled in your hair as your lips and tongue skirted up and down his length. 

The memory still floods you with arousal; it hadn’t been your first time pleasuring Aegon in that way, but it had been by far the most daring. “I have not felt your mouth on me in some time, my love,” he teases, moving you back against his length, still trapped in the confines of his trousers, “And we’re so hidden up here, no one to walk in and catch us, it would be a shame not to use the chance while we have it…”

Despite the circumstances, his offer is tempting; you love bringing him pleasure, love hearing the little gasps and moans he makes escape his lips. “How would we?” you ask, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder, his violet eyes full of desire, “All the way up here, I mean.”

“You trust me?” Aegon asks, placing both of his hands on your hips.

You nod instantly, not even needing to give his question a second of thought, “Of course, you know I do.” You answer truthfully. 

Smiling, he slowly moves his hands until they come to rest at your hips. “Gīda, Sunfyre.  Rȳbagon naejot nyke,” he commands the dragon before once again looking at you. “Okay, my love,” he taps one of your thighs, “Just bring this leg up and over the saddle, yeah? Like on a horse.” (Steady, Sunfyre. Listen to me.)

“Oh, definitely, just like on a horse,” you say sarcastically, an attempt to keep your nervousness at bay, which makes Aegon chuckle behind you. Slowly, you do as he says, leaning back onto him for support as you swing your leg up and over Sunfyre’s massive saddle, coming to sit side-saddle atop the beast. 

“Okay, good,” Aegon smiles, keeping his hands tight on your waist, “Now just turn…” He murmurs in concentration, patiently helping you turn your torso to face him, and sighing happily when you do. “And the other leg,” he commands, steadying you as you bring your opposite leg back over the saddle, “Perfect.” He praises you as you right yourself again, now facing him.

You give yourself a moment to breathe, getting used to facing the opposite direction. As soon as you look at the prince, though, that coil of arousal that was winding itself tight in your belly starts moving once again when you notice his eyes scanning over your chest, a sliver of your skin exposed from where your overcoat remains unbuttoned, your own underneath pulled to the side. 

His eyes meet yours, and he smirks when he notices your own arousal. All at once, the two of you crash together once again – lips colliding together as you moan into each other's mouths, hands grasping onto whatever parts of the prince you can reach; you bite his lip teasingly, making Aegon growl.

“Little minx,” he breathes against your neck as he kisses down your jaw, “Wanting to suck my cock so badly you’d risk life and limb on a dragon.” He teases, smirking when your hands shoot out to undo the ties and buttons at the top of his trousers.

Rolling your eyes, you finally manage to free his length, making him let out a relieved groan. You languidly stroke him for a moment, savoring the broken, choked off moans he breathes into your mouth, the flushed tip of his cock already leaking onto your hand. 

“Gods,” he groans lowly, his hips already fucking up into your hand, “Your mouth, my love, please!” He asks, his eyes squeezed shut.

Smirking, you kiss your way down his jaw before carefully leaning forward, pressing yourself against the firm leather saddle until your face is level with him. You give a quick kiss to the underside of the tip, right where you know a little sensitive ball of nerves lies, before you softly run your tongue over the head; you’re a goner as soon as the salty taste of him hits your tongue, losing yourself in the task as always. With a whimper, you begin bobbing your head up and down along his cock, one of your hands coming up to stroke the small bit at the base that you can’t fit in your mouth. 

One of Aegon’s hands comes up and wraps itself in your hair, pulling it back and away from your face as he grinds up into the heat of your mouth. “Fuck,” he moans, long and low as he tilts his head back, “So good, so good, fuck.” He repeats, already lost in the way you feel, in how dutifully you pleasure him – just like a good little wife should, and he knows you will be the best wife for him.

You close your eyes, head spinning with adrenaline as you continue pleasuring him, the hand at the base of his cock moving lower to cup his stones and gently roll them in your palm, just the way you know he adores. The effect is instantaneous, a punched-out groan wrenching itself from his throat as his abdomen contracts, making him jerk in your hold. You chuckle around him, drool slipping out of the corners of your mouth as you smile around his length, pleased to have reduced him to such a state already. 

The noises he’s making, along with the feel of him in your mouth, hot and heavy on your tongue, make you clench around nothing, whining onto his length, which catches his attention. You hear him chuckle above you, laughter turning to a pleasured hiss when you suck him deeper into your mouth, “Is having my cock in your mouth getting to you, sweetling?” He questions in the same cocky tone you’ve come to know so well, “Making your little bud ache?”

You nod around him as best you can, moaning around him when the hand in your hair clutches the strands tightly, leading you in the exact rhythm he wants as he ruts in and out of your mouth. He lets out a pleased hum, “I’ll take care of you, my love,” he promises, pressing you lower on his length, his eyes rolling back when he feels you spit and gag around him, “Fuck, just as soon as I finish down this pretty throat.”

At that, you redouble your efforts, moaning around his cock as you suck him down eagerly. He starts grumbling in Valyrian under his breath, a sure sign that he’s close, as if the way he was fisting your hair and panting into the cool air wasn’t enough of an indication. Right when he lets out a deep moan of your name, almost sounding in pain, you move the fist around his base faster and press your tongue to the sensitive underside of his head as you suckle on it, one of your hands tugging at his stones in just the right manner. 

“Fuck!” He spits out, his body tensing up as he presses you further down onto his cock, a deep, resonating growl leaving him at the same second that his hot seed spurts directly down your throat as his length pulses and twitches in your grasp. You moan at the familiar taste of him, your eyes slipping shut as you allow him to use your throat, swallowing down the last few drops of his seed while he whispers your name again and again in reverence. 

Finally, his hips stop twitching and the hand in your hair falls limp, allowing you to pull away from him. You sit up, moaning in surprise when he immediately tangles his hands in your hair again and pulls your face to his, uncaring that you’d swallowed down his spend mere seconds before as he bites your lip and tangles your tongue with his. 

You press yourself against him, sighing when you feel the warmth of his chest against yours, his body somehow hot despite the temperature, as if lit from within like Sunfyre. “Such a good wife,” he sighs against your lips, “How have I come to deserve you?”

“We are not yet married!” you laugh, shaking your head as you marvel at him, taking in the way his cheeks are still lightly flushed.

“A moon's time is close enough,” he shrugs, violet eyes gazing at you with adoration, though growing darker when he catches the sliver of your chest still exposed where your coat is open, “Turn back around.” He whispers suddenly, his voice husky. 

You don’t bother questioning him, simply nodding, although his hands are already back on your waist, helping you turn back around on the dragon’s saddle.

“Need to touch you,” he explains anyway, contently humming, low in his chest, when you’re pressed against him once more, “Need to make you feel good – you deserve to feel good.” He babbles, mostly talking to himself as he skirts his hands over your body. “Lenton sir, Sunfyre. Soves!” He commands, grabbing at the reins with his still-gloved hand, coaxing the large beast into a slow, smooth turn, although he still held you tightly to him until the dragon was once again gliding – his huge, rosy wings slicing through the air with practiced ease. (Home now, Sunfyre. Go!)

“Where –”

“Home,” Aegon huffs, fingers desperately tugging open the remaining buttons on your coat, frantically pushing the fabric out of the way as soon as the last one is pulled undone, eager to get his hands on your soft skin.

“But –” You start, only to be cut off as he groans impatiently, practically ripping the skirts of your dress in an effort to push them to the side, exposing your smallclothes.

“We’ll have time, sweetling,” he breathes, pushing a hand into the thin fabric, groaning when he feels how wet your slick folds are, so warm against his skin, “It’s not like it takes me long to bring you pleasure.” You can hear the boastful pride dripping from his low voice as he speaks against the side of your neck, his warm breath sending a shiver up your spine as your back arches against him.

“Oh!” You gasp as you feel his fingers finally touching you, immediately zeroing in on your aching, swollen bud with a practiced ease, sending electricity zipping up your spine. 

“Ooh, someone’s sensitive,” he teases, rubbing tight, wet circles against you as his gloved hand finds its way into your coat again, yanking down the fabric of your dress before he cups your breast, kneading the delicate skin in time with the ministrations to your cunt, “Do you enjoy my fingers, sweetling?”

 You nod, already panting heavily in his grasp, your body going from rigid to pliant as you moan unabashedly in the air, not needing to be mindful of your volume all the way up here – Sunfyre as your only witness seems wholly uninterested. He chuckles against your neck as he bites at the sensitive skin, the small pinpricks of pain only adding to the pleasure radiating from your core. 

You buck up against him as you feel two of his fingers venture lower, prodding at the opening of your slick heat, gathering some of the wetness there before roughly pushing them into you. You grunt out a curse as you feel them enter you completely, Aegon not bothering to tease them into you as he usually does and instead pressing incessantly against that rough spot within you that makes you see stars. 

“Aegon, my love,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his hand, his thumb catching against your bud as his fingers continue tormenting your center, scissoring and curling within you, “I’m–” You cut yourself off, unable to finish a thought with the way he’s handling you.

“I know you’re close,” he grunts, his hands moving frantically against you as you shake against his chest, one hand plucking and pinching at your nipple as the other fucks into your squelching wet heat, “I can feel this lovely cunt squeezing me.”

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck!” You cry in time with the thrusts of his hand, your head tilting back onto his shoulder as you feel your high creeping ever closer, the fire in your belly growing to a blazing, roaring inferno. 

He laughs lowly as he mouths at the spot just below your ear, never tiring of being able to reduce you to such a base state, moaning and writhing in his arms. “Go on, sweetling,” he coaxes you, fingers rubbing up against that rough patch within you ceaselessly as his thumb circles your bud in the same rhythm, “Let yourself have it – you’re so close, let yourself feel good, my good girl, my love.” He begs between love bites, panting against your neck as you fuck yourself against his fingers. 

“Aegon!” You cry, your eyes squeezing shut as your entire body tenses with a sob, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as wave after wave of pleasure crashes into you. Your walls grip desperately at his fingers, coating his hand in your sweet juices as stars explode behind your eyelids, a vicious, loud moan punching out of your chest at the intensity of your high. 

Eventually, the waves begin to subside, leaving you whimpering pathetically against him as he continues gently pleasuring you, helping you ride out your peak for as long as your body will allow. After a moment though, his fingers finally come to a stop when he hears your small whimpers and whines, indicating that his touches are bordering on overstimulating you. 

He coos lovingly, soothing you with soft touches and kisses against your cheek as he licks your spend from the hand that had been fucking you, savoring your taste with drawn out, dirty moans, taking pleasure in the way it made you blush and squirm like you were still the innocent maiden everyone believes you to be. 

“Ñuha gevie ābrazȳrys,” Aegon murmurs after a moment, violet eyes studying you as he peeks from over your shoulder, “Nyke daor umbagon naejot dīnagon ao.” (My beautiful wife, I cannot wait to marry you.)

You don’t know what the words mean but they sound so beautiful coming from his pouty lips that you cannot help the blush that blooms on your cheeks, the sight making him chuckle. 

“Look,” he says, pointing into the distance, “You’ll love this.” 

Following the tip of his finger, you narrow your eyes, not seeing anything for a second. Just as you’re about to inquire as to what exactly you’re supposed to be looking at, you gasp, watching with wide eyes as the tallest tower of the Red Keep emerges from behind a cloud. 

“Seven,” you whisper, watching as the rest of the large fortress is slowly revealed, followed by the large domes of the Dragonpit and the Sept of Baelor, “Oh, Aegon…it’s beautiful.” You whisper, eyes sweeping over the entirety of King’s Landing, from the waves of the shores of Blackwater Bay all the way to small houses of farmers that lie beyond the city walls, all bathed in the golden, pinky lighting of the setting sun. 

“Gevie,” he breathes, gaze entirely fixed on you, on the way you hands grasp his, “Gevie ābrazȳrys.” (Beautiful, beautiful wife)

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @avalyaaa @fan-goddess @hopelesswritergall @toms-cherry-trees @aemshaircare @cuddlejeongin @imaegontatgaryenwife0 @valeskafics @beautbuck @watercolorskyy @marysucks-blog

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[candy69gurl]

Sooo what is your thought in bully sukuna x shy reader? I think it's kinda hot tho. Like imagine sukuna picking on you every day bc he is obsessed with reader 🥴😩

ENSNARED

PAIRING bully Sukuna x shy reader

WARNING slight non/con, mean Sukuna (obv), m!masturbation, jealousy, slight mentions of Jin Itadori, mentions of violence, public harassment, little comfort?, slight dacryphilic Sukuna, fingering, clit rubbing, use of nicknames (brat, slut), slight exhibitionistic Sukuna, raw sex, m!cum on f!face

"G-give that back to me," you attempt to snatch your notebook from Sukuna's grasp, but he intentionally keeps it just out of reach, smirking wickedly.

"Oh, are you truly desperate for this piece of shit?" He asks teasingly, enjoying your frustration. "Perhaps if you beg prettily, I might consider letting you have it back."

Your desperation grows with each attempt, as you frantically lunge and twist to snatch the notebook from Sukuna's skilled hands. He shifts it from one hand to the other, juggling it playfully, prolonging your torment. His eyes gleam with mischief as he watches you struggle, enjoying the power struggle between the two of you. "Beg," he urges, leaning closer to whisper the word in your ear, making the situation even more agonizing.

In your frantic attempts, you lose your balance and accidentally land on top of him. Your body settles over his lap, unknowingly straddling what seems to be a rather significant bulge beneath his clothes. Sukuna's smirk falters for a moment, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks as you finally tear the notebook from his grip and scurry away, completely oblivious to the chaos you've caused. "You... you have no idea, do you?" he stammers, trying to regain his composure, a mix of embarrassment and amusement coloring his voice.

You glare at Sukuna, your eyes narrowing in anger as you hold the now-precious notebook tightly. Your cheeks red from embarassment and anger. Without another word, you turn on your heels and storm away, leaving him behind, his laughter trailing behind you.

Little did you know, the incident had left a lasting impression on him, and the game of cat and mouse between you and the school bully would continue, fueling his obsession with you even further.

As the night falls, Sukuna tosses and turns, unable to shake off the vivid memory of your accidental encounter earlier that day. His erection strains against his pants, a painful reminder of the power you unwittingly hold over him. "Damn you, little brat," he curses under his breath, frustration mixing with desire. He tries to distract himself with other thoughts, but his mind keeps returning to the image of you, sitting on his lap, completely unaware of the effect you had on him.

Unable to resist any longer, Sukuna's hand slips beneath the covers, wrapping around his throbbing member. He jerks himself roughly, visualizing your innocent face and the way your body had felt against him earlier. Each stroke brings him closer to release, and he moans softly, fantasizing about the day when he'll claim you as his own, asserting his dominance over you in every sense. The thought pushes him over the edge, and he sighs in relief as he spends himself, imagining your surprised expression when he finally makes you submit to his desires.

As he releases, a satisfied smirk graces his lips. "Soon, little brat," he murmurs, "I will.. fucking make you mine." He cleans himself up and drifts off to sleep, dreams filled with fantasies of dominating and possessing you, eager for the day when he could make you his in every way possible.

The next day, Sukuna finds himself walking down the hallway, his eyes desperately trying to locate you. He is determined to start the day by bullying you. He eventually finds you leaning against your locker, talking to none other than Jin Itadori, another nerd he picks on.

Jealousy surges within him, the sight of you with someone else igniting his possessive nature. He approaches the scene, casually inserting himself into the conversation, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Mind if I join you two? I heard there's some juicy gossip going around," he says, his eyes never leaving you.

Sukuna's arms wraps around your shoulders, pulling you close and shielding you from the boy's advances. "You want to date her? Just look at her, she's as ugly as fuck. You can do so much better than this pathetic excuse for a human." His words drip with contempt, and his tone is dismissive.

Embarrassment floods you as Sukuna's cruel words echo through the hallway, drawing stares and snickers from the surrounding students. Jin, unable to handle the situation any longer, offers you an awkward smile before retreating and leaving you alone with Sukuna. Tears start to form in your eyes, and you struggle to maintain your composure in front of your tormentor. "You should be thanking-"

With a sudden burst of anger, you slap Sukuna across the cheek, the sound reverberating through the now-silent hallway. "I hate you!" you cry out, your voice cracking with emotion. For once, the tables have turned, and the roles are reversed – now it's Sukuna who feels humiliated in front of his peers.

Sukuna's eyes flash with anger, and before you know it, he seizes your hair, his fist clenching to strike you. The room erupts in chaos as classmates rush forward to pull you and Sukuna apart. As they separate you, his eyes burn with fury, promising retribution later. "This isn't over, little brat," he growls, his voice low and menacing. In the midst of the confusion, you can't help but wonder how far he'll go to assert his dominance and exact his revenge.

After school, you are the last student in the classroom. You quickly gather your belongings and stuff them into your bag. The sooner you leave school, the sooner you can get away from the stress of the day's activities.

Just as you're about to exit the classroom, your gaze shifts left, revealing Sukuna's smirking face. He's been waiting for you to finish what you're doing so he can pounce on you; now that you're both alone, no one can stop him.

His eyes gleam with satisfaction as he grabs your wrist, yanking you back and pinning you to the ground under his weight. "Nowhere to run, little brat," he chuckles, holding you down with an iron grip. "Time for your punishment." Fear and adrenaline course through you as you struggle against him, knowing that you can't escape his grasp.

Afraid and overwhelmed, tears stream down your face as Sukuna looms over you. To your surprise, his demeanor shifts, and he hastily gets off you, cradling your trembling form in his arms. "I didn't mean to scare you," he murmurs, his voice surprisingly gentle.

You continue to sob, the mixture of fear and humiliation overwhelming you. Sukuna holds you tightly, his grip softening as he tries to offer comfort. "Please don't cry," he whispers, his fingers gently tracing circles on your back. "I won't hurt you, little brat. You just need to learn your place, that's all." Despite his words, you can't help but feel uneasy, knowing that his intentions might not be entirely genuine.

His hands cup your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. Your teary, puppy-like fearful eyes, your bruised lips from when he pinned you down, everything appears irresistible to him. He licks his lips as arousal surges through him, seeing you so vulnerable.

His fingers brush against your lips as he leans down to kiss your cheeks, tasting your tears. He moves further down letting his lips brush against yours. The kiss is slow and deliberate, his tongue sliding into your mouth with authority. Shock courses through you, your tears drying up as his dominance is once again asserted. But amidst the shock, a strange feeling of desire begins to stir within you, leaving you both confused and anxious.

As you recover from the shock, his kiss intensifies, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you closer. The unexpected intimacy leaves you both breathless and uncertain, your heart pounding in your chest. His lips are insistent, his tongue exploring your mouth with a possessive fervor. "You're mine, little brat," he whispers against your lips, his words laced with possession and dominance. You can't help but wonder what this new development means for your turbulent relationship.

As his lips continue their relentless assault, Sukuna's hands reach inside your skirt, his fingers tracing the outline of your thighs before finding their way to your most intimate place. Your breath hitches, the surprise and embarrassment from earlier replaced by an unwelcome arousal. "Does my little brat like that?" he murmurs, his voice tinged with satisfaction as he feels your reaction. His fingers delve deeper, his touch both demanding and thrilling. The intensity of the moment leaves you gasping for breath, your body betraying your mind's resistance.

With a triumphant smirk, Sukuna slides his finger inside you, eliciting a sharp intake of breath. "So wet for me, little brat," he praises, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You should be ashamed, wanting me even after I embarrassed you in front of everyone." His words are a mix of pleasure and reprimand, further fueling your confusion and desire. You can't help but squirm under his touch, your body responding to his touch despite your mind's protests.

He thrusts his finger deeper, your walls clenching around him in response. "Such a naughty little brat.." he growls, his thumb caressing your clit. Your breath hitches, your body arching involuntarily under his expert touch. "But don't think this means I've forgiven you," he warns, his finger thrusting in and out in a slow, rhythmic pace. "You still have much to learn, and I'll teach you every lesson you need." You close your eyes, a mixture of shame and pleasure washing over you.

He lifts you up on one of the benches, bringing his erection towards your core. Your core gushing around his shaft, his groan of desire echoing through the still classroom. With a smirk, he frees his cock from his pants, the sight of it causing your breath to catch in your throat. He proceeds to rub the engorged member against your clit, his movements slow and deliberate. You try to resist, whispering a half-hearted "Wait..," but his eyes are filled with determination.

Despite your protests, he ignores your pleas and guides his member to your entrance. Forcing himself into you, he pushes past your resistance, his size causing a burning sensation. You whimper and whine, struggling against him, but his strength is overwhelming. "Quiet, little brat," he snarls, his cock stretching you wide. "Take it like the good little slut you are." You can't help but surrender to his force, your body adjusting to his intrusion as his thrusts become more forceful. "W-what if someone..?", your voice quivering, the thought of somebody seeing you like this is almost revolting to you..

What will everyone say? The shy innocent girl getting fucked by her bully and also that she is enjoying it? Yet, you cannot deny the pleasure he is giving you. You don't want him to stop.

"No one's coming", Sukuna interrups , "Even if someone sees us, let them know you just pretend to be shy... but you are in reality a masochist slut."

The combination of pain and pleasure washes over you, your body betraying your will once again. Your protests turn into moans, your hips moving in tandem with his. The intensity of the situation leaves you breathless, your mind conflicted between desire and fear. Despite yourself, you begin to enjoy the rough ride, your body responding to his dominance.

As his thrusts become more forceful, he cups your face, his eyes locked on yours. "You feel so good, little brat," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "I've fantasized about this so many times, imagining you wrapped around my cock." You blush, both mortified and flattered by his admission. "You don't know how much I like you," he continues, his words contradicting his usual cold demeanor. "Maybe too much."

His confession catches you off guard, your mind reeling from the unexpected sentiment. Despite your confusion, his words ignite a spark of affection within you. "L-like me..? then why?," you whisper, your eyes tearing once more..

Sukuna pauses, his eyes searching your face as if trying to decipher your thoughts. "You're mine, and I want you to know it," he says, a hint of vulnerability in his tone. "I'll always push you, force you to submit because I can't bear the idea of losing you." His thrusts resume, his movements fierce yet tender. "I enjoy seeing you struggle, hearing you beg, because it proves you belong to me."

He leans in, his lips grazing your ear. "It's my way of showing you how much I care, little brat," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "I'll never let anyone take you from me, even if it means breaking you first." His words are both reassuring and terrifying, leaving you unsure of how to feel about this new revelation.

Despite your confusion, the intensity of the moment leaves you breathless, your body responding to his every move. His declaration has opened a door to a whole new realm of emotions, leaving you both scared and entranced by his possessiveness. The love-hate dynamic between you grows more complex with each passionate thrust, your future now intertwined with the man who both torments and cherishes you.

With a smirk, Sukuna reaches inside your shirt, his fingers finding your breasts through your bra. He kneads your nipples roughly, your breath hitching at the sudden sensation. "Such a pretty sight, my little brat writhing under me," he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck to find your lips. His kiss is both possessive and demanding, his tongue dueling with yours in a heated dance.

Your body responds to his touch, your nipples hardening in his grasp. The mix of pain and pleasure leaves you gasping, your mind clouded by the sensations. His kiss deepens, his tongue exploring your mouth, his hands roaming freely over your body. The dual assault leaves you breathless, your arousal reaching new heights.

As his kisses become more intense, so do his thrusts. You can't help but become more responsive, your body surrendering to his domination. The intimacy and brutality blend together, leaving you both exhilarated and terrified by the intensity of the experience. Your resistance melts away, your body craving the release that only he can provide.

He watches your face intently, his thrusts becoming more frantic. "That's it, little brat," he growls, "let go for me." You can feel the heat building within you, your body ready to explode.

As you reach your climax, your inner muscles contract around his cock, milking him in a rhythmic pulse. Sukuna groans, his own release nearing. With a growl, he pulls out, his seed shooting across your face in a hot spray. You gasp, your eyes widening at the sudden intrusion. "There," he says, a triumphant glint in his eye. "Now you're marked, my little slut."

Your breath hitches, the cooling semen on your face a testament to his claim. The shock of the action leaves you speechless, your mind struggling to process the intensity of the situation.

As Sukuna zips up, his eyes rake over your body, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Clean yourself up," he commands, raising a hand in dismissal before turning on his heel and striding away. You're left on the ground, still panting from your orgasm, your mind reeling from his abrupt departure.

You watch him leave, your mind reeling from the whirlwind of emotions. As he disappears from sight, you can't help but feel abandoned. With shaking hands, you wipe the semen from your face, a small part of you feeling humiliated yet another part aroused by the act. Your body still buzzes from the encounter, your heart racing. You rise slowly, your legs unsteady beneath you, and make your way back to your quarters.

Does he really like me?

The questions linger, unanswered, but you know one thing for certain - you belong to him, body and soul.

[svuguru]

satoru nii groping his sister ass and boobies :3

Tags: incest!!! I got carried away eee but this is a bit short :< minors and antis dni!!!!

“Toru…!” You whine, Satoru’s big hand engulfing your tit while the other one caresses your ass from under your skirt. In response to your reaction, Satoru grins cheekily, his lips right by your ear.

“Dirty girl,” he whispers, “no panties?” Your big brother Satoru has always been invasive with you, as if he doesn’t even know what personal space is because the moment you walked in his bedroom to ask for something, his hands were all over you.

“Was getting undressed before I noticed I needed something…” a pout graces your features, batting your lashes at him, staring at him with shiny eyes. Satoru’s always been playful with you, always so playful, a little too close to you for a brother and sister relationship.

“Sure, sure,” he squeezes your boob, eliciting a gasp from your glossy lips. “Maybe you just wanted big brother Toru to touch you, hm?” Satoru’s such a meanie, always teasing you and laughing at you!

“Uh-uh, promise ‘s not it!” You squirm in Satoru’s hold, squeezing your thighs together.

“Yeah?” Satoru laughs under his breath, “well, there’s no bra, either.”

Your hand reaches up to lie above his, tilting your head backwards to look up at him. He’s looking down at you with a smug grin, as if he knows everything about you and can predict your next move because, well, he can.

“Toru, y’so mean to me…” you snuggle and look back down, which doesn’t do much for Satoru except make him laugh again.

“Aww, ‘m sorry, sweet girl,” he shifts so he’s in a more comfortable position; sitting on his bed and sitting you down on his thigh, with no care that your bare pussy is against his jeans. “‘M so mean to you? Yeah? Want me to make you feel better?” Satoru pouts in faux sympathy, removing his hand from your ass so it can rest on your waist and the other one from your tit so he can pinch your twin between his index finger and thumb.

“Uh-huh!” You cry and look up at him with watery eyes. Oh, you’re so sensitive, it’s sweet.

“Okay, okay, I’ll make you feel better, just trust big bro Toru to make you feel better,” so you do, because you blindly follow your brother like a dog on a leash because you love and trust him. The hand on your chin moves down to the hem of your skirt and slowly lifts it up, tucking it into the waistband. “So wet, aren’t you?”

His long digit trails down to your clit, rubbing quick circle on it before it falls down to your slit, sliding along it before he unexpectedly pushes his finger into your little hole.

“‘Toru—“

“Shh, hush, pretty, mom and dad are in the other room,” he uses his other hand and raises his index finger to his lips to signal you to keep quiet.

“m sorry…” you mumble, and despite your guilt, Satoru still laughs at you.

“No need to be sorry, just gotta stay quiet f’me, alright?” And eagerly, you nod. “Good girl, just like that…” he groans and doesn’t waste any time to start thrusting his finger in and out of your little pussy.

[aajjks]

sweet & spicy (m)

synopsis. no one in this world can fuck you better than him.

warnings: smüt, 18+ èxplïcït cöntènt, ǔnprôtěctèd sèx, ovèrstïmülâtïon, bünny hybrïd kôô, prè rüt kǒǒ, mômmy kínk, brèèdïng kïnk, yândèrè dárk thêmès, rôúgh sèx, päïn kínk. Nöönà kïnk. MDNI

note. I don’t even know why I wrote this but I guess you guys deserve this because you guys are the best followers in the world and I love you guys so much. I hope you will enjoy this and maybe ask for our bunny koo. I think at this point…. Noona is borderline yandere for him as well. ENJOY AND PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SHARE YOUR FEEDBACK. IT REALLY KEEPS ME GOING..

“O-Oh fuck noona I’m gonna cum ahh” he moans loudly as you feel him twitching inside you, His cock feels so good buried deep inside you.

Oh you love your bunny boy so much.

He makes you feel so good, makes you feel like the most desirable woman in the world, his love makes you feel complete. Especially when his heat is so so much closer, Jungkook is a different man.

Everything about him changes and every emotion inside his brain, body and heart intensifies. You’ve been together for so many years and you never thought that you would fall in love so deeply with him.

Someone so scarred like him, you know that he thinks of you as an angel, but you’re not less flawed than him, there are some scars in your heart that he can never see.

Some scars may heal on your body with time, but never in your heart-and your past relationships have given you some deep deep scars, right on your heart

Your heart Which is now in jungkooks warm, gentle hands.

“Oh fuck bunny- you make mommy feel so fucking good ugh.” you know he has a mommy kink, it is a taboo kink that you thought you would never try in bed but ever since you’ve fallen in love with jungkook?

You have fallen from grace, right into the deepest pits of Hell where the most fucked up sinners reside but he’s by your side and he lights up every single corner of your hell like it’s heaven.

And you know that he’s always gonna be with you. Because you know why? This man cannot live without you.

You hold such power over him that- you have become the reason for his ruin.

The thing is that he’s your light and you’re his darkness, you are a darkness that he never wants to escape.

You moan out in pleasure as he thrusts inside you for the nth time.

Jungkooks pace is merciless, rough and fast. He’s fucking you like a sex crazed man, and you love that about him because no part of your body is ever left unsatisfied or unloved by him.

It’s almost like he triggers the heat inside you and you’re a human being, “nghh fuck mommy- ugh yeah.. only I can..” he groans, his lips finding your neck and he bites on your bruises marked flesh hard.

It doesn’t hurt, it feels so fucking good, he is marking you and you feel like you belong to someone, And to belong to someone, it’s the best feeling in the world.

Especially when it’s him.

You are not alone anymore, you are not abandoned anymore, you belong to Jungkook in every single way possible.

He begins to whisper dirty lewd words into your ear, egging you on, leaving you on the verge of an edge.

You’re so close to cumming.

at this point your body hurts, you’re overstimulated, absolutely fucked out- but you can’t get enough- And you don’t want him to stop or get enough of you.

“Oh fuck mhmm I cannot get enough of you noona- ugh.” it is like he can Read your mind, it’s like he can dive into the darkest most explicit fantasies, buried deep inside your brain.

He knows exactly what to tell you, he lives in your heart of course he will know what you want to hear because your heart tells him everything.

“Oh baby please don’t fucking stop.” He’s like your stress reliever, Jungkook whimpers in your neck as he buries his head in the nape of your sweaty neck.

His breath is hot, tickling your skin, your walls flutter around him and he moans.

Jungkook is still fucking you with a burning passion, his head finally rises up from your neck and he pulls you into a deep sloppy searing kiss.

His teeth nibble on the flush meat of your swollen lips, his kisses are like oxygen to you.

You kiss him back, your nails scratching his back, you’re pretty sure he’s bleeding, because he moans into your mouth, you pull him in closer to your naked body.

You never want to let him go.

And the best part is about this is that he doesn’t want you to let him go.

You are pretty sure that if you try to let him go, he will actually kill you.

Of course, you know what your hybrid is capable of.

“‘M gonna cum please oh..” you break the kiss and soon he confesses, you mewl, looking at him with your lustful eyes.

“Cum deep inside me. Knock me up.” You whisper in his ear and as soon as you say those words, you can see goosebumps appear on his flawless skin. He growls looking at you, something in his eyes darken, he actually looks animalistic now.

He is now in his natural habitat. A sight Which is really rare.

“Fuck- breed…” he whimpers, and just like that- the bed actually starts to shake, hitting against the wall as your moans fill the room.

This is what you love the most about him, his always burning passion for you. Honestly, it’s astonishing how someone is capable of loving someone so much like this.

It is astonishing that is he is capable of loving you so much like this.

“I love you so much. I love you so much…” and that’s all it takes for you to cream around his dick soon, your orgasm hits you like a brick- he cries out at the feeling of your arousal all over him and he kisses your face.

“such a good girl for me- ‘m so proud of you.” He cries out.

“Now cum for me koo…”

And before you can even recover from your own high, you feel him cum inside you, it’s euphoric with the way he fills you up completely.

The nature of your relationship goes from a 0 to 100 real quick and sometimes from extra sweet to fucking spicy.

And you wouldn’t want it another way

And just like that, you both hold each other so close so intimately, so in love and so satisfied, so fulfilled.