#that he doesn't look down at the floor often

[jasmineoolongtea]

― if you think i'm pretty 𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚

― the ways in which they lay their hands on you and can't stop thinking about it ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

contents: gojo x gn!reader, geto x gn!reader, nanami x gn!reader, megumi x gn!reader, yuuta x gn!reader, headcanons/brief drabbles, quite suggestive (all characters are aged up!!!!), a lot of touching, making out, both reader and characters are needy and down bad for each other what can i say a/n: inspired by if you think i'm pretty by artemas and baby by madison beer, as you can see, i was very inspired for some of them compared to others so don't mind the difference in length djkajdwd

gojo satoru can't help but have his hands on you at all times. it's a genuine problem. some might even call it a disease or affliction, a deadly illness if you want to go that far.

whatever it is, he doesn't think he wants to find a cure for it. not when he can so easily coax out those wonderful sounds from you with the brush of his fingertips, those noises that are reserved just for him even though you try and deny it, and especially not when you decide you want to try and turn the tables on him.

that's how he finds himself underneath you on the floor of an abandoned office, his wrists pinned above his head as a devilish smirk graces his features. you're hovering above him, one hand locking his troublesome hands in place while the other is pressed against the cold floor to support your stance. right now, he's thinking about how this might be one of his favourite angles to look at you from.

he knows you're trying to tease him back, testing his patience and will to resist like he does with you, in a sort of punishment for his wandering hands but he can't even hide how much he's visibly enjoying this moment. it annoys you, deeply. you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, shifting your weight onto your knees to free up your other hand so you can run it down from his neck and stopping just right where his belt sits which earns you a breathy gasp from him.

you smile to yourself, clearly pleased at your own doing. but you don't have long to celebrate your victory as it seems you've underestimated how thin his patience runs when it comes to you. in an instance and in one fell swoop, you're flipped onto your back as satoru is now the one caging you against the floor. your faces are barely inches from each other when he leans in, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear as he whispers,

"it's my turn now."

geto suguru thinks apologies are useless. in most cases, he rather you show him instead.

to him, words often get in the way of many things and even more so when emotions come into the mix, scrambling them up to the point where they are nothing more than regurgitated word vomit. he's a firm believer in the phrase, actions speak louder than words, and he's definitely not shy about carrying out said belief in his daily life.

why tell you how much he wants you when he can simply show you through how his hand never seems to leave your waist even in the most crowded of places and how his lips seem to find yours in an instance as if he's worried that they might miss his company even if just for a second.

the same goes for you. why tell him how sorry you are when you can just show him? and so you do, caressing his jaw with your fingertips while your lips roam the expanses of his neck and collarbones, making it their sole mission to map out and commit each curve and mark to memory. every kiss you place is an apology in its own way and it makes the both of you forget what you two were even in arms over anyway.

"satisfied yet, sugu?" you murmur against his skin, the sound of your voice sending tiny vibrations that grants you a pleased hum from him.

too bad for you, it turns out that he's tough to please, or rather just tough to fully satiate his seemingly insatiable appetite for you.

"not yet. actually, far from it."

kento nanami is pretty sure that you're trying to punish him for something he did.

maybe it was because he didn't tell you what was truly on his mind when he came home from work last night in fear or burdening you with worries or maybe it was because he didn't touch you then, even though he knew that you were looking too good for no one to be touching you like they should.

but whatever it is, he knows that whatever you are doing, it's dangerous.

you two were in public, wide out in the open. he could feel his breath hitch in his throat as you nudge your heel against him, dragging lazy lines up and down his leg and stopping just right next to his upper thigh before disappearing again underneath the cover of the table. as usual, you offer him no visible reaction that could possible give away your true intentions to him, just a ghost of a coy smile on your lips.

was this fun for you? to test his resolve as a gentleman, drawing it thinner and thinner into a taught line ready to snap at any second? or did you just want to see first-hand what it would be like to see come undone from your actions alone. knowing you, it would probably be the latter but he could never know for sure as it seemed that he would inexplicably always play into your hand.

with each lingering touch wherever you could get your hands on and each teasing glance at his necktie, as if you were already trying to undress him with your eyes, he had never wanted to throw caution and any ounce of public decency he still had at this point and return the favour to you.

god, you were going to be the death of him.

fushiguro megumi thinks that you're a handful and isn't shy about making it known to you.

it doesn't help him at all, of course, only earning him a sly grin from you as you continue with your wandering touches and teasing kisses, lingering on certain areas such as right under his jaw where you know you can elicit a low breathy groan from him. he tries to hide his reaction in an attempt to not give you more fuel to continue but he fails every time with his body betraying him as the tips of his ears seem to grow impossibly redder and he even finds himself subconsciously leaning into your touch.

in response to his words, all you say is, "hmm maybe, but that's what hands are for." as if to prove your point, you entangle one of his hands with yours, pulling it closer towards you and placing it right in the middle of your chest like you were inviting him to do some of his own exploration himself. he avoids your gaze, knowing the moment he made eye contact he would be done for and whatever was holding him back now would shrivel into nothing in an instant.

you giggle softly to yourself, showcasing your obvious amusement at how much he's trying to prove that he's stronger than this. you lean in closer towards him, your faces barely centimetres apart as you murmur, "and last time i checked, i'm pretty sure you have two of them."

that's when he makes his fatal mistake, looking down to see your plump lips just a breath away from his and noticing how your eyelashes flutter softly as you, in turn, look up at him through them. he can imagine your body on his lips and that's all that it takes him to use his free hand and to close the distance between you two as your lips crash against each other.

screw this, he doesn't want to wait anymore.

okkotsu yuuta is obsessed with you to the point where to others, it could be seen as concerning. thankfully for the both of you, he's never been much to care for other's opinions.

it doesn't matter if you manage to kill him, whether intentionally or unintentionally, because no matter what, he'll just come back more obsessed with you. a fact that he so clearly demonstrates whenever you're around him.

"p-please," he mumbles against your lips, his fingers tightening their grip around your cheek, "don't go." his voice is shaky with a tinge of desperation and his pupils are so enlarged with his unquenchable thirst and desire for you that you've lost track of the whites of his eyes. to him, even parting for a breath of air when it comes to you is a painful act that causes his heart to ache and swell.

yuta's never been much of a sweet tooth but he thinks you taste like the sweetest candy that could ever exist and it's as if you're covered in a layer of sugarcoating he wants to be the only person who has the privilege of being able to lick it off with his own lips. your hand snakes its way up his arm and around his neck, pulling him tighter into your grasp and he takes this as his cue to dive back into your lips.

at this point, he's no better than an addict with how much he's greedily devouring you with his mouth, wholeheartedly consuming you with every fibre of his being as his tongue desperately awaits to explore more of you and see if this is the only place that you taste sweet. all good things in this world cost something and you're no exception but whatever the price is, he doesn't care because he'll pay for it.

hopefully, he's planning to repay it now in his own sort of way.

[orcasoul]

Joel Miller Headcanons

Joel's Reaction When You're Sexually Harassed

Ahhhh I love me some protective Joel :)

Joel didn't think nights like this could ever exist again; Night's reminiscent of the 'Before Times', when you could unwind, leave your stress and worries behind for a little while and just enjoy the moment. The jovial laughter and carefree atmosphere that fills the community hall still amazes him.

For too long, people in this world just existed, trying to make it from one lousy day to the next, always having to look over their shoulder. But here in Jackson it's different. Life doesn't just go on, it thrives, breathes, grows stronger, a testament to the resilience and determination of the human spirit.

Even though some things here seemed frivolous at first, Joel had to admit the room did look beautiful, with fairy lights strung up and handmade decorations adorning the walls - all for the anniversary of Jacksons' founding- but it all pales in comparison at the sight before him now.

There you are, his 'partner in crime' (as you so often playfully referred to the both of you as), looking effortlessly radiant as usual, long hair draping over both shoulders, the ends trailing down to the low cut top that accentuates your cleavage, (not that he's looking, nope, not looking at all), a pink tint to your cheeks and a smile that could bring Joel to his knees.

"Hey guys, mind if I sit?" you gesture to the empty seat at the table. "Please join us," Maria smiles warmly. Joel removes his coat from the back of the empty chair beside him and pulls it out, an invitation to make yourself comfortable. "Such a gentleman," you beam at Joel, gently nudging his shoulder with your own. Joel smiles, "Always am, darling."

He doesn't miss how your already pink cheeks flush even brighter at his response, but no, couldn't mean... nope she'll never see you that way, so don't even go there. He listens intently as Tommy and you discuss your patrols with Joel, blushing slightly as you praise him for his capability and competence beyond the walls, even going as far as to calling him a good teacher.

"Well, you're a quick learner. Not everyone catches on as fast as you." Joel has to fight with the small smile threatening to break into a full on grin at his pride in you. Tommy raises his eyebrows in amusement as he watches the easy back and fourth between you two. The night goes on and Joel wishes it would never end.

Just sitting here with you, listening to the sweet lilt of your voice, watching the way your face lights up in genuine laughter brings a warmth to Joel's already thawing heart. He watches you leave as you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. He knows what's coming just from the smug looks his brother and sister-in law are giving him.

"Don't...," Joel rolls his eyes, "It's not like that at all." "Mmhmm...," Tommy hums, smirking into his glass. Joel huffs, returning his attention to his drink. A few minutes later he sees you making your way across the room, weaving in and out of dancing couples, when you are suddenly blocked from view by a large back and broad shoulders.

Joel is instantly on his feet, defence mode triggered in his brain, suspiciously eyeing this seemingly insistent man. The look on your face tells him everything he needs to know; You're uncomfortable and looking for a way out. His feet move as if they are their own entity, taking large strides across the floor, fists balled up and jaw clenched.

He can't make out what you're saying but it's obvious you are refusing this mans' advances. As you try to push past, the man grabs your wrist, making you wince in pain. Joe's eyes widen in shock. This fucker actually had the audacity to lay his hands on you. Pure, unbridled rage burst through Joel's veins, burning him from the inside out, his objective now crystal clear.

In the next moment, Joel had spun the asshole around, connecting his fist to his jaw, relishing the satisfying crack that resulted. "Don't ever put your fucking hands on her again!" Joel roared while pulling you behind him, shielding you with his large frame. He could feel you trembling as you placed a hand on his back, which only angered him more. How dare this entitled piece of shit treat you that way. You deserve to feel safe in your own community!

"What the fuck, man!" fumed the stranger as he picked himself up off the floor, rubbing his injured jaw. The room suddenly became void of voices, the jukebox being the only continuous sound for a moment, as all eyes shifted to the unfolding scene. The man's gaze shifts from Joel to you. "Seriously?!" he narrow's his eyes at you, anger painting his face red. "You'd rather fuck this old timer than me!"

"Back. The. Fuck. Off... Now!" Joel growled lowly. The guy looks back to Joel. "You know what...," he scoffs, "You're fucking welcome to it! God knows where that whore has be-" Crack!! He falls onto the table, then onto the floor with a sickening thud as Joel rains down, blow after blow. '"Joel! Joel stop!" He can hear you, but he can't stop, not after the vile comments aimed at you.

"Joel, please!" Only upon feeling your hand on his arm did Joel stop, turning to face you, hoping his actions haven't frightened you. But instead of fear or disgust all he sees is concern in your eyes. He turns back to face the man when he hears him groaning while being picked up and escorted out by a few other men.

Tommy appears at Joel's side, quietly reminding him that there are better ways to deal with people like that, - even if his look is silently conveying an 'I would have done the same thing' message -, then he makes sure you are okay before trying to ease the tension in the air by encouraging everyone to return to their business.

"Joel...," you whisper while gently taking hold of his bloodied hand, examining the gashes and forming bruises. "Let's go. We need to take care of this." Joel nods at you, allowing you to lead him outside.

Joel sits at your kitchen table, watching studiously as you sit in front of him, rummage through your first aid box. The deep concentration etched onto your face as you carefully dab at his split knuckles, stirs up a multitude of feelings in Joel's gut; Relief that you're okay and not afraid of what you saw, appreciation at how attentive you are and a fierce need to protect you from any more harm in future.

"I think it's broken," you say, sadly. "Yeah, probably just a hairline. It'll be okay," he shrugs it off, trying to reassure you. You sigh and shake your head. "You shouldn't have done that, Joel." Joel's brows knit together in confusion. "I shouldn't have helped you?" "I mean, I appreciate you defending me, I really do...," your eyes meet his and he can feel the sincerity of your words. You return your focus to Joel"s hand. "But he's not worth breaking your hand over."

It kills Joel that you sound guilty, as if you're blaming yourself for what happened, when it was all the fault of that arrogant prick. "No, he's not...," Joel replied flatly, then gently lifts your chin with his other hand to look softly into your eyes, "But you are." Joel watches as your frown softens into a heartfelt smile, your eyes glistening with un-shed tears.

His eyes momentarily drop to your lips, looking so soft and plump, he wonders if they'd feel as soft as they look. He doesn't have to wonder for long. In the blink of an eye his collar is in your grasp, your lips crashing onto his, and oh, they are soft, just like he knew they would be. Is this really happening?! Joel skims his tongue along your bottom lip and immediately you open, welcoming his tongue as it claims your mouth.

His hands settle on your waist, gently hoisting you up off of your chair and onto his lap. Joel feels your pert tits press against his chest and his cock press against his jeans. He moans into your mouth, running his good hand up your back to cup the back of your head. You respond by wrapping your arms around his neck and deepening the kiss, tounges and teeth battling it out in a game dominance and passion.

When you both finally part, panting for breath, Joel rests his forehead against yours and murmurs, " You don't know how long I've wanted to do that, baby." "You don't know how long I've wanted you to do that," you coo sweetly. Joel chuckles and kisses the tip of your nose. "I'll do that for however long you'll have me." Whatever is happening between you both, Joel knows this is the start of something amazing.

[arcriotwrites]

~𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓣𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓱~

Bucky Barnes x Reader

WARNINGS: Angst and discussion of Bucky's/Reader's trauma, descriptions of death, themes of depression, swearing

Tags:

#buckybarnes #thewintersoldier #death #trauma #fanfic #xreader #tangst #revival #first post #love #mypoorbaby:( #Ijustwannahughim

Author’s Note:

This is my first post to this account! I haven’t written this type of stuff in a while so I apologize if I am a bit rusty. I love Bucky so much and wanna hug him so bad so I wrote about doing that to ease my delusions. I hope you enjoy! (Please ignore the grammar errors, it is 11:30pm when I am posting this)

Word Count: 2.1K

Your eyes can't seem to tear away from the security monitor, your gaze specifically on the silver glint you can see from the dim desk light he sits at. You lean back in your chair, letting out a deep sigh, your hand running over your face.

He shouldn't be allowed to do this. To just forget.

Your thoughts seem to drift as you feel frustration rake your body, your mind starting to cloud in anger. He was a criminal, an assassin, a killer and yet Shield just lets him run around like a commoner. Your anger seems to drift into logical thinking as it often did, your memory flipping back to all of the files you read on The Winter Soldier. After the corruption of Shield and the publication of Hydra's files due to The Black Widow during the destruction of Project Insight, you found yourself spending many late nights pouring yourself over the files on The Winter Soldier. Your colleagues didn't like to talk about him whenever you brought him up, almost treating him as if he's Bloody Mary, like saying his name would summon him. Though despite what he has done and the destruction he has caused, he always intrigued you. So much so you became his personal watcher. Security cameras and microphones were put up in his apartment before he relocated himself their permanently, making it so that his every move was watched without his knowledge.

You feel yourself drift back to reality, not knowing when you decided to get up from your desk. You find yourself walking out of the newly built Shield headquarters, turning to look at the building as you exit the doors. After the corruption, they immediately started rebuilding.

Time doesn't stop for them I guess.

The thought passes through your mind as you slide into your car, dropping your computer bag into the bag seat with a soft thud. You let out a deep sigh as you sit there, debating whether you were really going to do this or not. As you turn the key, the car engine roaring to life, you route your GPS to a certain Brooklyn apartment.

Pulling up to the building felt so strange. Sure you had driven by before and watched it nearly 24/7 but parking your car outside seemed like a bad idea. A shiver runs down your spine as anxiety settles in your stomach, feeling as though your heart jumped to your throat. You release a deep breath as you step out of your car, wrapping the jacket you had on around you tighter. As you approach the main entrance, your hands shake when reaching for the brass door handle.

When you enter the building, it was exactly as you expected. Single apartments on either side of you dictated by A and B, a staircase in the middle of the hallway that went up 5 floors, even the mirror hanging above the small table in the main hall seemed to be exactly where you expected it. The familiarity of the building brings a small sense of comfort to you it fully sinks in what you are about to do. Your footsteps seem to echo as you climb the stairs to the 4th floor, knowing he resided in apartment 4B. When you reach the 4th floor, you can feel the anxiety creeping up again, feeling as though you were going to be sick. You quickly take note of your exit routes before walking to the door with the brass plaque on it that read '4B'.

You take a deep breath before knocking against the wooden door, swallowing hard as you try to find what to say.

"Mr.Barnes? I um- I know you don't like visitors especially if it is unannounced but I just- I feel like we need to talk."

You speak, your voice coming out softer than you had wanted it, making you wonder whether he even heard you. You can hear his heavy footsteps approaching the door and stop just as he reaches it. After a few seconds of silence, you clear your throat.

"I'm going to be honest with you. I came here to try and figure out what happened. I have been angry for so long and I'm positive my anger is based in confusion and so I came looking for answers. I have been trying to figure it out on my own but it's never a good enough answer, you are my last resort."

Your voice slowly becomes a whisper as you ramble, not noticing just how much you were saying until it was already said. You hear a deep sigh on the other side of the door. When he speaks his voice comes out gruff and raspy, as though he hadn't spoken in years.

"You with Shield?"

His question has you sighing in defeat, expecting this to be the end of the conversation as you respond.

"I am but they aren’t aware that I am here right now. I came here strictly on my own business and accord."

Your response is hopeful as if trying to prove to him that he isn't your assignment. That he isn't your mission. You hear his footsteps and then the door of the lock squeaking open. The sound of the doorknob turning causes you to swallow hard, understanding that you were about to walk into his domain.

As he opens the door, your eyes fall to him, your lips parting slightly in shock. You had expected to see a man full fo hatred, covered in wounds and bruises. You had expected to see a killer open that door. Yet standing in front of you was a man. His hair was brown and to his shoulders, dark circles rested beneath his crystal blue eyes, a black hat was placed on his head, shadowing his face partially. He looked tired, maybe even burnt out. His appearance made you almost feel bad for him. You notice a glove covering his left hand, that same hand motions for you to come inside and for some reason, you do.

As you step inside, you look around the apartment. Newspaper covers the windows, the floor was worn, a small kitchen to your right and a mattress on the floor to your right, no sheets on it. You would’ve thought Hydra would set up their best soldier better before they got taken down. He stands next to the kitchen counter, examining you. As your gaze falls back to him, a shiver runs down your spine at the look in his eyes. It wasn’t predatory or dangerous, his eyes were full of curiosity and nervousness.

“You wanted to talk?” He asks, clearing his throat as if trying to remind you why you were here. Your attention snaps back to the task at hand.

“Yes. I um- I…” You trail off, feeling words die in your throat. How could you explain this to him without sounding weird?

“I have looked over your files, I know your history.” You notice him tense up as you speak, his jaw clenching and his posture straightening slightly. You continue;

“I’m not here to hurt you or pry too much but there are so many questions I have that I can’t get answers to except from you. I um- I had a brother. His name was Cody. He was the funniest guy you’d ever meet, he would tell stupid dad jokes and make sure everyone had a good time everywhere he went.” A dry laugh escapes your throat as you feel your chest tighten, the words coming to you easier now as you speak about someone so close to you. “He went to towns outside of what was Sokovia to help build hospitals after the Avengers destroyed the country. I went to visit him for the summer, taking time off work to go help him do this amazing service. When I got there, his project advisor said he hadn’t seen him so I went looking for him in the hospital he was working on at the time. I found him in the basement, shot in the chest and once in the back of the head. He was slouched against the wall opposite the door, sitting in his own blood. His eyes were still open…” As you describe the scene you had walked into, the memory floods back like a dam breaking. Tears well up in your eyes as your gaze drops to the floor, not wanting him to see you this emotionally vulnerable. You notice his stance has relaxed, his face dropping as you speak. He knows what’s coming, waiting for you to say it.

“He was assassinated by The Winter Soldier. The shots were so precise, I knew that’s who it had to be. No one would make it two clean shots. I knew how Hydra trained their soldiers. I contacted Shield to find out if my brother was in Hydra’s files and if I could bypass the encryption to see them. I was able to. He was listed as a false suspect.” The words choke out, your voice cracking as a son takes your body, placing a hand on the counter in front of you to hold yourself up.

“He wasn’t even a threat, Hydra misidentified him as their next target. He was killed for no fucking reason. He didn’t deserve that. He was doing such good work, hell he was doing better work than I could ever do at Shield.” You scoff out the last sentence, sniffle and wiping your face with your sleeve. Your gaze rises to the ceiling, as if trying to get the tears to stop. Your lips quiver as you try to calm down, seemingly unable to stop the cries that make your whole body quiver. You don't want to look at him, knowing you would fully breakdown, your knees threatening to give out. You hear him clear his throat, the sound coming out like choking. You blink quickly, bringing your hand up and wiping your eyes with your jacket sleeve. You sniffle, trying desperately to gather yourself before continuing.

"I'm not here to try and condemn you, I simply just want answers..." You hesitate as you speak, your voice coming out broken and soft, your tone shifting to be almost pleading with him. You slowly lift your gaze from the floor, your eyes landing on him. He stands on the opposite side of the counter from you, his hands resting on the wooden top. His head is bowed, his hair falling like a curtain in front of his face. You take a few deep breaths as you try to compose yourself. When you speak, your voice comes out more even;

"I just want to know if you remember him."

You watch as he slowly lifts his head. His voice comes out soft, barely above a whisper.

"I remember them all. It was like I was screaming to get out but I couldn't. It's like I was a witness to my own crimes that I couldn't stop." His voice breaks as he speaks. You notice the tears that fall down his cheeks, his eyes seeming to glaze over in pure grief. In those few sentences, your entire perspective shatters. The man before you wasn't a killer, Hydra made him that way. They scrambled his brain and controlled him like robot. He was nothing but a tool for them. You watch as he breaks down, beginning to pace circles in the small kitchen, trying to control his breathing. Your breathing begins to pick up and without thinking, you walk around to the other side of the counter, now invading his space even further.

"I'm so sorry..." He chokes out, his voice hoarse as he looks at you, his cheeks wet with tears. Almost like an instinct you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in to a tight embrace. Sobs rake his body as he practically collapses into you. You had been so stuck in your own grief and anger that you hadn't stopped to think about all that he has dealt with. Sure, his trauma doesn't diminish the loss he caused you as The Winter Soldier, but it gave you a new perspective as to how broken he is about it too. You find yourself running your fingers through his hair trying to soothe him. Tears run down your cheeks as you stand there, holding the shattered man in your arms. You feel his metal arm wrap around the small of your back, his other one wrapping around your shoulders, trying to pull you closer to him. His face is buried into your shoulder as you speak, your voice just above a whisper;

"I forgive you."

[yeoverheart]

My Own Tune ♪ PART 1

*DISCLAIMER* This is going to be an ongoing series. It is also my first time writing something like this, suggestions and criticism are accepted <3.

The ton is filled with anticipation for the new Duchess of Picardy to arrive for this new season. For these fine gentlemen would surely have a battle to steal the heart of Lady y/n, and it will not be easy being as though she is here for other.. pursuits. Thankfully, Viscount Anthony Bridergton has announced he is on the hunt to find his perfect match, and leaves the ton wondering who that special woman might be.

As the carriage arrives at Lady Danbury’s home, I'm kindly greeted by her familiar face, “Good Afternoon Lady y/n. Oh how wonderful it is to see you.”

“The pleasure is mine, Lady Danbury.” holding my dress as I step down from the carriage to politely greet her.

I have only met Lady Danbury once; 4 years ago after she had gotten word that my mother had fallen ill, she immediately came to visit France and supported my family and I as my mother took her last breath. I don't fully understand the history shared between the two, although my mother would tell me childhood stories and they often involved Lady Danbury. Before my mother passed, she whispered something to her; I don't know what was said and probably never will, but I watched as Lady Danbury nodded as she held back tears and accepted whatever my mother said.

The servants warmly greet me and take my bags into her home. Lady Danbury walks beside me as we follow slowly, “Wow, this is...beautiful!” I let out a quick breath as we entered the marbled floor. I walked towards the middle of the floor, my head spinning trying to soak in all the beauties of Lady Danburys home. 

“Do you mind?” 

“Not at all,” Lady Dunbury smirks with a confirming nod. I slowly walk around with my hands folded behind my back inspecting the first floor, the glistening chandelier that hangs from the ceiling sparkles around the room. The smell of fresh paint filled the air as I got closer to the wall of paintings by the never ending staircase. “Are any of these paintings still fresh Lady Danbury?” I question. Lady Danbury makes way towards me with a confused look until she recalls the gift she received from the Bridgertons. “Ah yes, the Bridgertons. They're letting me borrow their portrait so my wall doesn't look so empty while my portrait is still being created. Charming family, aren't they?” 

“Yes they are quite perfect” I gazed over the familys’ beautifully crafted features, although I linger on one for a second longer. Lady Danbury notices and follows my eyes, “Yes, Anthony-the Viscount, he is quite the charmer”, Danbury gives a toothy grin. I try to hide the rosy tint that quickly spreads amongst my cheeks, taken away by such a handsome man. 

I'm here to pursue my passion for music, no distraction; or rather handsome ones at that. Walking in the other direction I hesitated, “Is he-.” Before I can finish a servant enters, “Lady Danbury you have a visitor.” Danbury and I  make eye-contact, it seems as if she wasn't expecting any visitors by the unsure look on her face. 

“Good afternoon Lady Danbury.” A gentleman enters the room, seemingly in a hurry. A familiar gentleman. His eyes drift towards me after he stands straight from his bow. 

“Mr. Bridgerton.” Lady Danbury responds with a smile. The realization hits evidently on my face, it's the handsome gentleman from the portrait. I try to hide my reaction as I feel heat rise to my cheeks from embarrassment.

“And you?” He walks a bit closer towards us.

“Lady y/n, it's very nice to meet you.” I bow with a smile.

Anthony offers a welcoming grin, “The pleasure is mine.” Stuck admiring his smile lines; I am taken out of my trance as quickly as they fade. 

Our locked eyes seem to linger a bit too long before Anthony clears his throat and announces, “I’m here to collect our family portrait, I have received word that yours is freshly complete and ready to be presented.” Ending off with that inviting smile once more.

“Oh yes! If my portrait shall arrive while I am giving my guest a tour, have them replace it right where the Bridgertons’ had theirs” Lady Danbury annonces to a servant across the room. 

“I have my carriage ready, is it alright if I have them come take it?” Anthony says.

“Why yes of course” Lady Danbury replies. “Now, there's much more for you to see Lady y/n, follow this way. Excuse us Mr. Bridgerton”

“Goodbye Mr.Bridgerton.” I say offering a smile.

“Goodbye Lady y/n.” Anthony smiles once more, captivating me into his charm.

I cannot. 

I follow as Lady Danbury leads.

After a moment of silence while walking up to the second floor Danbury suggests, “Anthony isn't music, let's not forget what you are here for.” Oh my, was it that obvious? 

“What could you mean, I was only being friendly.” I protest

“I know that look.” Danbury gives me a suggesting look as if she is a parent reminding a child that they cannot have sweets before dinner. 

“You should know I'm having a ball tonight, mainly to show off my newest portrait, you will remain close. These balls are often used for gentlemen to scout their wives out, but you are here for other reasons.If you wish to remain in your room you can, but I must say I have a dress that would look rather splendid on you.” 

“Very well, and please Lady Danbury trust me I have no intentions of finding a husband anytime soon, I leave that duty to my siblings. 

[fantasticalleigh]

Rey made him that mug. 

[slavicafire]

we've been living in this apartment for two months now, and while we've observed most of our new neighbours (my slavic Windowsill Watcher Grandmother gene already activated), I don't think they had the chance to see us often enough to recognise us yet.

I do know, however, from my observations, that the tiny funny dog upstairs is called Gucio. I've passed him once or twice during his walk and heard his owners use the name - and, while both the dog and his owners are oblivious to our existence, Gucio became an apt topic of discussion in our house. you know, we hear barking, ha, that's Gucio, he must be home alone again! or there's a stick left by the building door, that must have been brought by Gucio and he was forced to abandon it before entering! a household name, really.

yesterday as I was leaving to go to the store, walking down the narrow staircase, there he is! tiny funny looking dog, slightly startled by me suddenly appearing on the floor he just reached on his tiny funny looking legs.

"good morning Gucio!" I say joyfully, the most natural thing in the world.

well. remember that Gucio doesn't really know me. so he looks at me in the most flabbergasted way a dog can look at a person. he is positively aghast. agog! not sure how aware dogs are of their own names but he seemed genuinely puzzled at the apparent stretch of social convention.

and as I try to contain my laughter, I see his owner standing on the stairs below. the woman is sort of awkwardly frozen, speechless, and she looks at me.

"you... know each other?" she asks.

is that not the funniest way to phrase it. is this not the funniest question she could have asked. ma'am do you know my dog? you went to school together perhaps? you've met? do tell, are you old friends? maybe you worked together? you know each other, my dog and you? this dog? you know him? he knows you? he never mentioned you I'm afraid

[ffsg0jo]

ex-boyfriend toji, who's constantly being pestered by megumi about you. you're not his biological mum, but the boy's formed an attachment to you and craves your affection and warmth. you're the closest thing he's ever had to a mother, having been in his life since he was 3, and he loves you like one too. his dad is all hard and muscles and frowny, and you're all soft and sweet and always smiling at him. it's no wonder his dad couldn't keep you, he thinks.

you never raise your voice at him, feed him the best home-cooked meals, and even help him with his homework (he doesn't actually need help, he just likes the way you let him sit on your lap whilst you're on the floor and wrap your arms around him, struggling to figure out what long division is). even after you and his dad break up you never once held it against him (like other exes had) and you never stopped visiting him.

you're hands down the best (ex) girlfriend toji's ever brought home. you actually made an effort to get closer to megumi and get to know him more often. always looking for fun little things to take him to. whether it's a petting zoo, aquarium, or a normal zoo zoo.

you learnt quickly how much he loved animals and never failed to surprise him with a new plushie. one could never have too many plushies, you said to him once, booping his nose and pulling out a cute turtle from behind your back.

(when he finally moved into the dorms in first year, he had about 3 boxes alone, full of stuffed animals. he didn't have it in his heart to pick and choose which ones to take with him, so he brought all of them. you laughed at first when you saw the flood of plushies on his dorm floor when helping him move, but megumi gave you a small smile, repeating your words from almost a decade earlier.)

mini follow-up/context

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

[washeduphazbin]

Hi, I would like to ask for a smut from Adam x fem Reader, his dear wife is going to pay him a visit at his work and in the end they almost get paid for lute

New Eve (Adam x Fem! Wife! Reader)

-SMUT AHEAD MINORS DNI-

Other warnings: Adam Being Adam

I hope I wrote this ask and understood it correctly! Adam is my guilty pleasure. I love men who are dumb as rocks and who are going to be absolutely leashed by even stronger women.

REQUESTS OPEN

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

There's a saying that all good things come in threes, Lilith, Eve, and you. Adam's final wife, who physically couldn't be swayed by Lucifer because Adam had met you in Heaven. When you passed through the pearly gates, you were greeted by none other than the first human himself. You were in awe for about two seconds until you quickly gathered the first man was a complete and utter dickhead. He seemed to falter when you walked past him to greet an angel named Lute, Adam's second in command. She tensed a little as you introduced yourself, ignoring Adam's protests that dubbed you a Queen Mega Bitch.

All this to say, it took about three months before Lute caught Adam sticking his tongue down your throat with you latched onto him like a koala. You made a distressed sound at being caught while listening to Adam laugh above you. You distinctly heard him call your mouth as good as a vagina while pressing a kiss to your hairline. "Adam!" You hissed, pulling on the horns of his mask as he let out a defiant sound, "Inappropriate."

"Ugh yeah, that's kind of my thing, sugar tits."

"You need to not make it your thing, or this thing doesn't happen." You drew your line in the metaphorical sand before marching out of the room, faintly hearing Lute argue about Adam's behavior behind you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Two years later, you were Adam's new 'Eve' in heaven with two golden rings to prove the love that formed between the two of you...somehow. Did the both of you fight constantly? Yes. Did you want to wring his neck every time he opened the gaping hole he called a mouth? Also Yes. But did you love him...unfortunately. Even though he had a laundry list of bad habits, a vulgar mouth, and gross hobbies, he had his moments. He was protective, fiercely so, and despite his fuck boy personality, he only had his sights set on you. Lute often asked you what you saw in Adam, and you'd reluctantly sigh and give a tired grin, "He makes me laugh. Plus, with proper motivation, he's putty in my hand." Lute made a sound of understanding, nodding her head,

"Ah, yes. Use your feminine wiles to control those weaker than you, even if they may be physically stronger. We must use what we are given as women. Well, you must. I'm very strong without using that to my advantage."

"Yes, exactly," You snickered as Lute stopped outside Adam's office. "Which is exactly why Sera put me in charge of convincing Adam to meet with The Morningstar's daughter." You groaned, rubbing the bridge of your nose, "I'll see you back here later, then?"

"Yes, ma'am." Lute bowed, "I wish you luck...you'll need it. He's in one of his moods." before taking off into the sky and down the hall. You reached up with a stretch of your arms, fluffing up your wings to look extra pretty before knocking on Adam's door,

"Adam." You hummed, knocking on the grand marble door once before opening it. You leaned against the entranceway, wings brushing against the floor, as his head shot up.

"Sugartits!"

"Not my name!" You dodged Adam's hug with a flurry of your wings; he grinned, shoving the door closed with his hip. "Adam," you said in warning as he used his angelic magic to fly towards you and trap you within his arms.

"and what would you prefer I call you? My Bitch? Wifey?" He mused, peppering sloppy kisses against your cheek and down your neck. "We could go with Queen or Goddess, preferably." You shot back, dragging Adam down to sit in his chair; you hummed gently, removing his mask from his face. He leaned back, kicking his legs up on the desk as you slid down into his chest, straddling his hips. You hummed, running your fingers through his brown hair, and he melted into your touch, "My name works, too."

"I guess we can settle on Queen. Does that make me your King?" Adam preened as you scratched under his chin,

"Without a doubt...but we must talk about the Young Morningstar."

"Who?" He made a faux confused face which you raised an eyebrow back at in response, "Ugh, Lucifer's cunt daughter. What about her?"

"She's been begging for a meeting. I suggest you meet with her." Your lips began to trail down his neck, nipping at his skin as his body flushed.

"But that's so much work, sugar." He groaned, running his clawed hands through your hair, "Can't I just say fuck off back to hell we're gonna exterminate all of you regardless."

"Sera wants you to at least meet with her one time; she's giving you a lot of trust to handle this on your own."

"And if I do what you ask, what'll you give me?" He mused, eyes sparkling. You huffed, hitting him with the back of your wing, and he laughed, "Come on, you gotta sweeten the deal for me, mama."

"You're such a bastard." You huffed, moving to pull your hair out of your face. He moved his legs to the ground, and you could slide between his knees. "Robe off unless you want dirty," you commanded as Adam fumbled out of it quickly.

"I love you~" He leaned back with a sly grin, hand reaching up to move your head closer to his lip. Your fingers spread across his thighs, and you huffed softly, looking up at him.

"I love you more. If I do this for you, you promise to meet with young Lady Morningstar?"

"You can't just fuck me because you love me?"

"Bite me." You sneered, but there wasn't any malice in your voice as he stood up, picking you up off the ground and pressing your back against his desk.

"Oh, it would be my pleasure. I can't say your robes will survive, though I might need to get you some new ones." Adam popped the buttons on your robe, allowing your body to be laid bare for his eyes. He watched your breathing hitch as his long claw trailed down your neck to your chest. "Fuck I love these puppies, you know that?" Adam grinned, grabbing fistfuls of your breasts, squeezing and kneading to his heart's content. Your husband was like an oversized golden retriever. When he sees something he likes, he obsesses over it like a man deranged. His favorite playthings of yours were your tits and ass. "Any meetings?"

"None. I'm yours for the rest of the day. You can mark me how you'd like; I'm yours, my husband. Well, until you meet with the Princess."

"Fuckkkkk yeah, baby, come 'ere." Adam dove between your breasts, and he felt you suck in air through your teeth. He began to bite and suck on the supple flesh of your chest; you keened, arching into his mouth, hands tangling in his brown hair. You could tell from the way his teeth would graze against your nipples and your flesh he was doing everything in his power to leave marks on the skin.

"Adam...ngh." You panted, feeling his hand move down from your breast to slide down your stomach and between your legs. "Shit," You squeaked, feeling him tease your clit with his thumb and forefinger with a dopey grin on his face.

"There's my favorite girl," He flicked your nub skillfully; for being a massive asshole, this prick sure knew where to find your clit. One finger slid between your folds, and you tossed your head against the cold marble desk. "Damn, only one finger has you acting up? I must not be treating you good enough," He purred as another finger entered you, stretching you out to be big enough for, 'the first ever man god created.' Adam watched with delight as your wings spread out and trembled, glowing with a soft golden glow. "That's it, you're being such a good girl for me. Are you ready?"

"Yes." You panted, "Adam, please."

"God, you beg so nicely, you little slut," His hand reached up to grip your throat, causing you to let out a desperate whine, hips bucking into his fingers. "Beg Harder," He demanded, moving your hand to palm him through his trousers, stiff and aching. "Look at how hard you make me. How desperate. I need you to worship your god."

"Yes, sir." You purred, "You're my God, Adam. I need you, I'd worship for your love, your touch, your dick." You dragged your hand up your chest, playing with the swell of your own breast, "Don't you want to make me happy, baby?"

"More than anything." Adam's eyes lit up in elation, "Stay with me. Don't go to Lucifer. You're mine." He snarled, hands around your throat, "Say it."

"I'm with you. Only you. Forever Adam." His entire body seemed to relax when you said that, pressing gentle kisses to your cheek and lips. "I love you, you annoying Dickweed."

"Love you more, Sugartits." He grinned cheekily before lowering himself to you with a hiss-like laugh. "Tight as ever, and that's why I love you,"

"If you keep talking nonsense while you're literally inside me, I'll cut off your dick,"

"Sounds kinky."

"Adam."

"Fine, Fine, you're so vanilla." He mused, albeit his tone was much softer, fonder than his earlier teasing. His hands grabbed under your knees and pressed you close with a snap of his hips. You both let out a moan, yours higher pitched and needier, bucking your hips, searching for more friction than he was currently providing. You always savored the way he was able to fill you up, he wasn't the longest but god was he thick filling you in all the right ways. Every time his hips snapped into you, you could feel just how deep he kissed your cervix. "Yeah, you like that?" He panted, "Like how deep I'm getting? From the way you're dripping, you're practically soaking through my table. Your vag is like a vice, babe, so tight for this big cock."

"Hm. Your words always know how to turn me o-ng-ff." You moaned out this end at a particularly sharp thrust of his hips. "Fuck you," You panted as he grinned down at you,

"Good news, wifey, that's exactly what we're doing-"

"Sir!" You let out a scream as Lute slammed the door of his office open, you climbed against Adam's body like an embarrassed Nun. He groaned, still inside you but having the decency to cover you with his wings.

"What do you need, Lute? I'm a little busy getting it on with my sexy ass wife." Adam complained, motioning to the top of your head, to which you made an embarrassed sound of mortification. "Can this be rescheduled or-"

"The Princess of Hell is here, Sir. She just showed up-"

"Are you for real telling me that the bitch Princess of Hell is seriously cucking me right now?!"

"...Yes."

"(Y/n) If I killed her for interrupting us, would you be pissed?"

"Beyond Adam."

"Fuck."

[pseudowho]

How they ejaculate...

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, me getting all ejaculation-sciency about the boys because I'm obsessed

With: Gojo, Nanami, Higuruma, Geto, Choso, Toji and True form!Sukuna

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Gojo ejaculates fast, short, sharp little bursts of cum, for a long time (15 seconds plus), his seed leaving him in 15-20 bursts (contractions) like a hail of bullets, his cock only jerking a few more times after his cum has left him. He's dopey after he orgasms, bound to cockiness while his length is still pulsing little shots of cum.

Not much pre-cum, a little drip here and there--sometimes playing with his cock feels so neat, and he needs a lot of lube if you're going to have him in your hand for a while. Likes you to wet his cock with your spit, because of this.

Overall, a middling amount of cum, about 3ml each time he cums (mid consistency, bright white, and thins out and becomes transparent really quickly), and stays pretty consistent even if he has more than one ejaculation in a short space of time.

Balls pull up tight to the base of his cock when he's about to cum, so if he doesn't want to cum yet, he pulls them gently away from his cock, delaying his orgasm. You've recognised this, and take full advantage of the physiological mechanism to edge him ruthlessly, pulling his balls gently away as he begs you, pathetic and whining in your hand as he squirms beneath you.

Multiple sessions with Gojo will just leave you fuller, and fuller and fuller, and because his refractory period is as little as 5 minutes, he suddenly becomes a beast of an ejaculator, leaving you sticky and wet and covered in just an hour or two.

Distance? When there's nothing in the way to stop it, and he's cumming in your hand, it goes fast and far, at least 6ft of ejaculation distance, and you find little splatters of it dotted all around you later; the sofa, the floor, your hair.

Nanami ejaculates long, heavy strings of cum, overall fewer bursts, perhaps 10 overall, only 3 or 4 of them actually generating any cum, but continuing to have long, painfully strong twitching contractions after his seed is spent. Whole orgasm lasts a long time, up to 20 seconds, and he's shaking and groaning by the end of it.

His exceptional orgasm control can vary, depending on how wound up you make him during sex; he'll be reaching down to grip the base of his cock, ready to drag things out but then-- oh. You say his name so sweetly, and beg him to cum inside you, and all of a sudden he's pulsing inside you, hunched over, cursing and spitting because damn you and damn his lack of self-control. Expect to be flipped over and bound the second time, his wristwatch removed and resting on your arse (to time himself and prove how controlled he really can be), because how dare you make him cum before he planned to.

Lots of cum in those thick long spurts, low-grade hyperspermia, with 5.5-7ml per ejaculation. Longer refractory period, up to 30 minutes, but you can build him up slowly, and he'll cum just as much each time. Leaves you full and dripping right from the start, and he loves it. Off-white, thick, and stays thick for ages, so when he cums inside you, you still feel and smell him leaking out of you for a full day or more after.

Balls are big and heavy, so they don't pull up towards the base of his cock so much when he's about to come, but they feel tight and they ache. Nanami is putty in your hands if you fondle his balls at this stage, and he may go blind from the pleasure when he cums.

Breathing heavily after he orgasms, often still looking so tense if he's not brought down gently...likes slow, gentle stimulation after he ejaculates to ease those agonisingly long cock twitches. Massage him through it, cupping his balls and slow strokes to his cock, and the tension will seep out of him, leaving him on the verge of sleep.

Lots of pre-cum- handjobs get wet, and he's mortified about it, embarrassed by how messy you get when you stroke him. Doesn't need lube, but sometimes you mix some in for him to feel a little less self conscious.

Middling distance; will spurt long stripes up to the top of his chest, and your face, so about 2-3ft. His cum is heavy and sticky, so it's not going as far as his powerful ejaculation would move thinner cum.

Higuruma often dry orgasms when hyper-stressed, so quickies will leave him unsatisfied, and he needs forcing to slow down to allow him to actually cum.

Don't be surprised to have him stumble through the door, a deep crinkle of stress between his eyes, as he rucks your skirt up, hooks his heavy cock out of his trousers and fucks you against the wall, having a dry premature ejaculation the first time, his orgasm almost painful and providing little to no relief. You'll be dragged into bed, or you'll drag him into bed, where things will slow down, by his hand or yours.

Longer refractory period, this guy is over 35 now, so expect at least an hour. Unfortunately, in the intervening time, you'll be expected to ride that lovely nose, or take his cock into your mouth until he's hard again.

Ejaculation can border on painful pleasure for him, especially after a dry orgasm, his balls tight and sore and he flinches for them to be touched with your hands. Would rather you cockwarm him, and keep them warm against your soft pussy to ease the ache, or use your mouth for the job if you're going down on him.

When he does ejaculate, expect lots of long, slow, lazy spurts of cum, pouring out of his cock rather than spurting, with up to 10 long sluggish spurts of cum (pearly white, mid consistency, stays thick for some time for how long it took to get it out of him), with a lazily twitching cock for almost a minute after.

No distance at all, spatters straight onto his happy trail and your hand, so it makes it feel like he's cum gallons, but is really only upper-end of average, perhaps 4ml a time.

I think this guy is a builder-- each orgasm gets bigger, longer and stronger than the last. With the first one, he's tight, tense, little to no pre-cum or cum. By the time he's had you in bed for the whole of the morning, he's a whimpering wreck, cumming 6-7ml a time, cockhead sore and drooling pre-cum between orgasms.

Geto God-tier level ejaculation control; this man can squeeze the base of his cock, manipulate his balls, edge himself or cum fast, as much or as little as he wants, and it makes his ejaculation so unpredictable. Please expect him to use this to his full advantage, because he will use you like a toy, time and time again, to work out different ways to cum.

If left to his own devices, his baseline physiology will give him a totally average ejaculation; 10-15 contractions of his cock, 5 or 6 thin pale white bursts of semen, cock twitching just a few times after. You leak with his seed after, as usual, but nothing to write home about.

Or, the man can come at you hard and fast, ramming into you and massaging his balls to draw up tight, cumming in little short bursts of less cum (about 2ml), and have a barely there refractory period after. His cock will be half-hard and he'll jump straight in again, abusing your poor cunt until you'll been filled up bit by bit, and he's exhausted. His cum will shoot far, in staccato little bursts, up to 6ft, and he'll warn you, or you may lose an eye from the speed of it.

Or, he'll drag his own orgasm out for hours, gripping the base of his cock and gently tugging his heavy balls away from himself to delay his ejaculation. He'll ache, feeling heavier and heavier each time he does this, until he cums with devastating force, fewer contractions and bursts of cum that are so long and so drawn out (think true hyperspermia, 8-9ml), he convulses with the pleasure, leaving him weak and mellow from just one enormous orgasm. So much cum, it can't come out with so much force because there's just so much of it. Just put him in your mouth, or run a bath in advance, because it's not worth the effort to clean up after.

Barely any pre-cum, all jealously guarded by Suguru until he wants to come...which may be hours. Good luck.

Choso takes a while to learn how to control his orgasm; he's pretty new to this. His ejaculations are variable as a result. He doesn't get why he cums distances of 4 or 5 feet sometimes, little spurts of loads of cum, and why sometimes his orgasm takes almost 30 seconds, wracking through him like wildfire, slugging and slow, cum glugging out rather than shooting out.

As such, he's a total wildcard-- 2ml of cum one ejaculation, 5ml another. Thick and sticky and dense one day, loose and liquid and runny another. Shooting straight up and raining down in splatters on his shaking thighs one day, slugging out and filling your mouth until you're sputtering another.

Wanting a bit more expertise, Choso starts to watch porn, researching, joining anonymous chatrooms to ask the embarrassing questions-- why is he so unpredictable?

And then, he cracks it; he can control this.

He ends up going the same way as Suguru, with devastatingly accurate orgasm control; he'll yank his balls away from the base of his cock with a sandy groan to stop himself from cumming, savouring the look of surprise on your face as he drops his pace again, slipping in and out of you with punishingly slow strokes.

Choso gets off on the thought of his cum sticking to your pussy like glue, so he barely drinks all day, then makes you ride him, pulling you up off him after and smirking to see how barely anything drips out of you. He reads that pineapple and other citrus fruits make his cum sweeter, so you come home to an overloaded fruit bowl and a very fruity boyfriend one evening.

One thing he can't control, is the copious amounts of pre-cum that pour out of him while your hand is pumping him. Sometimes you're convinced that he's cum already, his pre-cum sometimes white compared to the usual watery clear fluid. The twisted pleasure on his face though, taking in your little wet hand around his cock, tells you otherwise.

Another guy who you can edge to the point of exquisite torture, by gently yanking his balls away from his cock when they tighten up, about to ejaculate. Choso begs and squirms in your hand, his pre-cum only getting heavier and heavier, your hand making wet little plap plap plaps as he ruts up into you.

His refractory period is pretty long for such a young 150 year old guy, which is another reason he trains himself to delay his ejaculation more. Too many times was he embarrassed by going quickly flaccid after prematurely ejaculating, arm over his eyes and blushing cheeks as you reassure him.

The longer you do this, the heavier, messier, and sloppier his ejaculations are. Expect your hands, mouth and his belly to be full or covered in milky, creamy white cum that drips in a sluggish, gluey way.

Toji ejaculates in mid-length, heavy bursts, a relatively short and aggressive orgasm, rough and dragging Toji over the coals. His cock only contracts a maximum of 10 times, most of his cum out by spurt number 8.

The volume though, is enough to worry a doctor. Truly hyperspermia, Toji can ejaculate anywhere from 10-12ml at a time, his balls heavy and dragging, and yanking them away from his cock when he's about to cum does little to slow down the impending flood.

Seeing you sputter and gag as you're forced to drink his seed down does something filthy to Toji, and he holds your mouth around him just to hear the thick swallows of his mid consistency, off-white, rocket-fast spurts of cum.

For all his bravado while you're jacking him off on the sofa, his orgasm wreaks havoc on him, teeth gritted so hard you can hear them crunch, and convulsing, hips rutting up as he curses and squeezes his eyes shut. He needs a break after, at least an hour, and if you tease him for it, he'll fuck you with his fingers until you can rein in that bratty attitude. Expect him to be scooping up some of that cum to lubricate his fingers before he rams them into you.

It's his distance that's world-record breaking; with no barriers to impede his ejaculation, his ropes of cum shoot out with such distance and force, you'll hear little splats on the ceiling. Your hand is almost dry, and so is his belly, but you know he cums gallons so...where the fuck did it go?

The lampshade. The chest of drawers on the other side of the room. Toji watched some drip down the window once, a smug smirk on his face.

You're gonna need a towel...or a good gag reflex.

True Form!Sukuna 🎶 Double the pleasure, double the fun 🎶

Though he always cums inhuman volumes of 20ml+ per ejaculation, the veritable monster that he is, of extremely thick and bright white cum. He truly is a monster, with his two cocks, seemingly absent refractory period, ejaculation speed that could send it flying 15+ feet, and almost prehensile ability to retract his balls to make himself cum whenever he wants to.

Not that he sees much reason to deny himself the pleasure of an orgasm-- it's not like he's here for your pleasure, but his own, and his barely-there refractory period and ability to use one cock at a time, one immediately after the other, means he can have orgasm after orgasm if he chooses to.

However, if you were to try to exert some control over his ejaculation, you could convince Sukuna that you're able to take both of his cocks at once. You would see the façade falter as you ride him, almost splitting in two, and he feels an orgasm at double the strength build with uncontrollable speed.

This is, of course, why he never let you see this little vulnerability-- he groans and heaves under you, double the cum spurting from him at horrible speed, in 10-15 continuous heavy contractions from start to finish. You can see the control he puts into stopping himself from convulsing, the sweat dripping into the eyes in his cheeks, even the mouth on his belly gasping with effort.

Sukuna is mortified to go flaccid after this intensely strong double-orgasm, and you will choose your fate, depending on how you react; your life is in God's hands, now.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

I'm embarrassed to know this much about the average male ejaculation.

[i-like-media]

I was wondering when they were going to play with the fact the Doctor is black now. 13 being faced with how people think of women was one of my favourite things in her era, so I was curious how they were going to treat his skin colour this season, if at all.

And honestly, Dot And Bubble exceeded all my expectations on the matter!

What a lot of episodes about racism and bigotry do is coddle the viewer. They make clear early on "this is an episode about RACISM and why it's WRONG!" As if you've never heard of the concept before and don't know it's bad. The episode will often portray racism in an extreme sense and show the viewer the main characters are above that.

What Dot And Bubble did, for the entire episode, was letting the viewer figure it out on their own. There was no coddling, only racism as it silently existed. A perfectly pastel and white community with not a single person of colour and the only visible outlier being a goth white kid. And in this world, the first thing the character we follow did, was to block a black guy with a face of disgust.

The title screen rolls and you're left to rationalise it. Surely it was because he was not in her contact list/saying all kinds of mind blowing stuff... Right? Except when Ruby enters her feed and talks about it, she actually replies back... With an eye roll, but she replies... and keeps talking... and listening.

The episode continues, still not a single POC besides the Doctor. They reveal this is an exclusive place for rich people, and eventually the character in question even admits she thought the Doctor was a different person because "I thought you looked the same".

What this episode also does well, is portraying a character we wish to see change and find a better life behind that change. We see Lindy struggle to navigate the world without her bubble, calling herself stupid, and we genuinely hope she DOES learn to be better, even as you slowly pick up on what's been going on sofar. You are left to hope she'll thank him and realise the error of her ways, and maybe find a new drive to think for herself.

And then she doesn't.

She stays in her bubble, doubling down on how she feels about the Doctor, how they're excited to be like their settler ancestors, and finally CLEARLY revealing to the viewers what's been off this whole time... and the scene asks: did YOU notice the signs? Did you see what went wrong along the way, or did you only notice just now when it's explicitly shown to you? And why do you think that is?

It challenges the perspective of the viewer and tells you to reflect on why you didn't see it coming, and that is so so powerful.

The Doctor's reaction to this scene..... 👌👌👌👌

His mouth is ajar, stunned beyond belief that after all he's done and all he can offer, the offer to literally save their lives, he is reduced to someone who's nothing more than the hue of his skin. He yells at them, telling them he doesn't care what they think of him because he's still the same doctor he's always been, and to still get rejected with a dirty look... Which hits extra hard when you remember how much the Doctor loves being himself. He LOVES being the Doctor again! And he walks with such a pep in his step, celebrating his existence and sharing it with all he meets... and then he tries to save some rich white kids from certain death.

His performance in that moment was literally phenomenal. It's a narrative that's so powerful and so creative in its execution, my jaw was still on the floor throughout the credits.

This episode is definitely up there as one of my favourites sofar

[freedomfireflies]

Our Place*

Summary: An extra for 404*

The one where Harry invites you back to his apartment for the first time and it doesn't go as planned.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, breeding kink, angst (happy ending), use of a safe word

Harry’s apartment is nicer than you expected. 

The furniture is cozy, the décor is unique, and his bedroom is well kept. He even has fresh flowers on his kitchen table. 

It surprised you, even though it shouldn’t. Harry doesn’t seem like a dirty guy, but truthfully, you were still shocked to find he had both sheets on his bed and no clothes on the ground.

You take in the tiny details of his life as he kisses down your neck and slips his fingers into your jeans. He’d wrangled you onto the bed only seconds after you walked through the door. He didn’t want to give you a tour of the whole apartment. Just the bedroom. Which you were more than all right with. 

He’s oddly desperate, given the circumstances. Maybe he always is, but tonight feels different. Tonight feels…hopeful.

“Shit, Tink,” he groans into your ear when he feels how wet you’ve become. “S’this just because you rode my bike?”

You gently swat the back of his head. “Stop it.”

“What?” He noses under your jaw. “Felt you squirming back there, Princess. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how you were trying to get yourself off to the vibrations?”

You wince. You didn’t even realize you’d been doing it. “I was not, I was just…the adrenaline was a lot—”

“Uh-huh.” He laughs and something about it sounds like honey. “S’fine, baby. You know I don’t mind.”

“Well…I wasn’t—”

“Sure. Can I fuck you now?”

You huff. “That’s why I’m here.”

He rips your jeans down your legs, tossing them over his shoulder and somewhere onto the floor. The warm air feels good and it’s then that you realize he’s right. You’re soaked, all the way through your panties.

But instead of taunting you further, he only tugs them aside and pulls his cock out. 

“I think…” he murmurs as he lines himself up, “…it’s high time I got you pregnant.”

Your mouth falls open in a moan as he drops a glob of spit onto your clit and pushes in.  

You’ve noticed that his breeding kink makes an appearance more often than not these days. Which you aren’t exactly complaining about. After all, you have one, too. Mostly thanks to him.

But it surprises you all the same as he starts to work himself in and out of your tight cunt, whispering the filthiest promises. 

“Think I won’t do it, hm? I will. Swell this pretty belly with my cum. S’what it was made for, wasn’t it? To take me. Have my babies. Gonna stretch you so pretty…get your tits leaking. You’ll let me have a taste, won’t you, Princess?”

You try to respond but how can you? You feel as though you’ve been fucked dumb. Unable to hear anything past the pounding of blood in your ears.

His glasses start to slip down his nose. He almost always takes them off—they’re mostly for reading anyway. But you like the look of them. Like how studious it makes him seem...how scandalous.

So, you nudge them back up. Desperate to see him exactly the way he always is.

He smirks. “You all right there, Tink?”

You nod weakly. “Yes…yeah. M’fine.”

“Thinking about what I said?” He kisses down your chest. “Thinking about calling me Daddy for real? Having our babies?"

Our. A word you didn’t think belonged to you. Because Harry doesn’t belong to you. And you don’t belong to him. You’re two separate people. Even when you fuck, he’s in his world and you’re in yours. You weren’t meant to be an “our.”

You chalk this up to a slip of the tongue. Something you say when you're threatening to breed someone. And you choose not to give it any power. Because you know what happens if you do.

The fucking gets harder. Faster. He’s chasing a high. In fact, he's been chasing it since earlier in the bar when he saw you with another man. And you know he’s trying to hold off for you, but he wants to cum. He wants to paint your belly with his seed and fuck it back in. Wants to make good on his word even if he shouldn’t.

Your nails scratch down his back, damp and covered in sweat. But his muscles feel good in your hands and you whimper as you hike a leg over his hip and bury him in your pussy.

In your lust-filled haze, your attention drifts. Head rolling to the side as you focus on the soft grunts in your ear. 

But then, your eyes find something on his dresser.

Your heart stops.

In fact, everything stops. Your breathing, your noises, your gentle rolls to meet his thrusts.

It all stops. And you whisper, “Red.”

He quickly falls still. A rather impressive feat given how anxious he is to find release. From 100 to 0 in only seconds, and you almost feel guilty as you sense him glance at you.

“What’s wrong?” he asks through labored inhales. “What…what happened, what do you want me to do?”

But you don’t look back. You keep your focus on the piece of furniture in the corner of his room and you will yourself not to cry.

Eventually, he looks, too. And when he realizes, the air in the room shifts.

He lets out a soft sigh and drops his hand to your hip. Squeezing it once. “Tink…”

You say nothing. Tears are pooling behind your lashes and your chest feels tight. 

“Tink,” he tries again, firm. His grip tightens on your waist. “Tinkerbell—"

“She’s beautiful,” you breathe. You take in a soft gasp. “Oh, my god, Harry, she’s…she’s so beautiful.”

He’s quiet for only a moment. “Yeah. She was,” he agrees gently.

You can’t take your eyes away from the picture frame. The guilt is so much worse now than it was before. Your heart is in your throat, in your ears, lying on the floor next to your jeans. 

You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be here. In his bed—their bed—fucking the man she died loving. While he promises to get you pregnant and give you his babies.

And how is he so calm? How the fuck is he looking at her picture while still inside of you instead of screaming at you to leave his apartment? How can he be okay with cheating on her with you?

“Princess,” he says again, and grabs onto your jaw to force your focus back to him. “Talk to me, what do you want me to do?”

Your lashes flutter. “What?”

“You said red,” he reminds you. “Which means we stop. But I need to know if you’re in pain or if I can pull out?”

It takes a moment for you to blink the fog from your mind and understand. But when you do, your stomach wrenches. “I…wait, shit, I…I want you to finish, I just…I saw her photo, and—”

“I know,” he interrupts softly. He gives you a gentle smile. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been there. But red means stop. And we’re gonna honor that. No matter why you said it.”

You whimper. “Harry, wait—”

“I’m gonna pull out,” he says, ignoring your plea. “And then we’re gonna talk—”

“Harry…Harry come on, you can’t—”

But he does. Even though he winces as slips himself out, teeth gritting together to keep from coming. 

But once he’s out, he delicately closes your legs, and sits beside you. “Okay,” he begins. He keeps your eyes on him. “What’s going on up there?” 

He nods at your forehead and you want to cry. “Nothing, I just…I…”

“You’ve never seen her before.”

You shake your head. “I don’t think so.”

“And you weren’t expecting to see her now,” he says for you. “Especially when we were fucking.”

You sniffle. “It felt like we were cheating. Like I was helping you hurt her. And then…and then I got worried that maybe you only brought me back here so you could pretend I was her. You know? With all the stuff about…about babies…and us, and…and—”

“Okay, breathe,” he instructs. He cups your cheek and presses his thumb to your trembling lips. “Breathe, Tink. Slow.”

Forced to obey, you suck in shallow gasps for air until your heart rate slows and your head doesn’t feel so dizzy.

Pleased, he says, “I know you’re not her, Tink. I don’t want you to be.”

Your expression softens.

“I brought you here because you’re the only person I want to see in the place she once lived,” he continues. His voice is strong. Steady. Like he’s given this far more thought than you anticipated. “After she died, I left it the same. I didn’t touch anything. Not the furniture she picked out. Not the dumb, cute little bowls she insisted we buy. Not the coffee pot that doesn’t work but she loved because she swore it made her coffee taste better. None of it.”

The tears fall down your cheeks, fast and without mercy. 

“I didn’t invite people over because I wanted to pretend she still lived here,” he tells you. “I wanted it to still be our place. Not just mine. And the thought of bringing someone else back here felt…wrong.”

You grab onto his wrist to keep his hand close and he smiles. 

“And then you,” he murmurs, dipping down to nuzzle his nose against yours. A display of affection you’d never expect from him. “And yeah, you’re annoying, and I hate you. But she would have fucking loved you.”

You nearly sob. 

“I want you here,” he says. “I want to talk about getting you pregnant and having our babies. I want to fuck you on this bed and I want to make you cry for a very different reason.”

You laugh through the tears.

“Look, I don’t believe in guardian angels and an afterlife and all that shit,” he admits. “But sometimes, I swear she sent you to me. And yeah, I probably should have moved the picture first. That was my fault, I haven’t had anyone in here in a while. But…you’re not her, Tink. You’re you. And that’s exactly who I want you to be.”

You can’t stop the next wave of emotion as you sling your arms around his neck and pull him close. He chuckles in your embrace but doesn’t fight you. He holds you, too. For as long as you both need.

“I hate you, too,” you finally whisper.

He smiles.

“Harry?”

“Mm?”

“…can we please finish now?”

He leans back to see you. “Are you sure?”

“Very.” You kiss him. “After all, you promised to get me pregnant. And I can’t leave until you do, Daddy."

The groan against your lips is delicious and devious.

And it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

“As you wish.”

WHY DID THIS MAKE ME WANT TO CRY!!! ALSO HI I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!

Previous Part:

~ The one where Harry gets jealous (again)

~ Full 404 Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin

@justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda

@vamprry @fdl305 @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach

@lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana

@dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley

@myalovesharry @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus @kirstiea05 @lovrave

@nuggetdean @triski73 @finelinesss

[dmitriene]

cw: tooth rotting fluff, comfort, intimacy, cuddling, kisses, domestic atmosphere, established relationship, could be mentions of simon's struggles, ooc simon, no really femenine descriptions of reader. pairing: bf simon ghost riley x gf fem reader

heavy arms, tight hugs, soft chest behind your back and warm breath coming against the back of your neck — that's what brings with it sharing the bed with simon.

his hands are always on your body, pressing you tightly against him like a pillow, while calloused, warm palms knead your plush flesh under his fingers, squeezing your ass, shamelessly crawling under the fabric of your panties to press into the softness more harder.

aside from the fact that simon is quite active, because the well honed army routine does not allow him to sit in one place, he more than does not mind spending lazy days in bed, and if these are the days when he returns home from the deployment — then even more so.

whether it's late at night or early in the morning, he goes home at the first possible attempt, through fatigue, through soaked dirt — opens the door to your house as quietly as possible, takes off his shoes on the threshold through aching muscles, but only so as not to leave dirty marks on the floor, and immediately walks towards the bathroom.

washing away the dirt, the blood, the nasty memories — each time there seem to be more of them, and even though there are more good than bad, it's as if the bad is trying to chase him down.

simon looks at his reflection in the mirror always fleetingly, even more often in need to treat the newly formed wounds, but either way he doesn't linger in the bathroom for long, going straight to the bedroom with slightly wet feet against the wooden floor, knowing well that everything he needs — waits for him there.

you're always there, in the same place, with your hands between your thighs to curl up and warm up, when he quietly opens the door and just stands there for a while, watching you, as if soaking up the atmosphere, before walking to the closet and pulling out his pajamas to dress up.

simon comes to his senses, forgetting about the deployment, about the army, only when clothes that smells like fabric softener sticks to his skin, when he feels the softness of the sheets under his feet and hands, and when his hands gently stroke your body before pressing you as close as possible, laying behind you and pressing his nose into the back of your neck with a small, gentle kiss.

an unexpectedly warm feeling makes you wake up slightly, fidgeting before wrapping your arms around his that encircle your waist, running a light sensation of your fingertips along his scarred skin, before calling him so softly, sleepily — “si?..„

for the first time in a long time, simon's breath hitches, there's a prickly warmth in his lower abdomen as he sighs noisily, the wide chest behind you heaves and then slowly sinks, before he buries his crooked nose in the top of your head and responds carefully, with trepidation, closing his eyes tightly with trembling eyelashes — “yeah, lovie, it's me.. i'm — i'm back„

and that's enough for both you and him, because simon will come back to you even if the way back takes seven hours flight or twenty four hour drive.

— “welcome back home, simon„ resounds in the silence of the room, occasionally interrupted by your mingled breath.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.

[gojoux]

Reaction of the JJK men (Gojo, Toji, Nanami, Choso) when you fall asleep waiting for their return !!!!

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍

Gojo. Geto. Sukuna. Nanami. Choso. Toji. Megumi. Itadori. Yuta.

◈ — 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

Gojo is a busy man with missions, so when he's very busy, he'd often come home after a few days or the very least he could do was come home late. When he notices you, the first thing he does is let out a small smile. “My baby was waiting for me, hm?” He walks towards you and sits beside you as he admires your features, brushing the back of his index finger on your cheek, “You look so cute even when you're asleep. I think you know that already.” He chuckles quietly before joining you to sleep on the couch as well, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you close to him, mumbling, “We have a lot to catch up on when you wake up,” before closing his eyes.

◈ — 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

It was a bit late at night since he had some business to do with money-collecting monkeys. “Oh, my love is asleep. What should I do?” He talks to himself in a lighthearted tone before sitting down next to you, and placing your head on his lap as he caresses your head gently with a smile on his face like you're the only person he loves. He'd ask someone to bring a blanket and he'll drape it over your body. He doesn't know what strong will of a cursed spirit he consumes but he could stay in this position for quite some time just to admire you as you sleep. “Sweet dreams to you, love.”

◈ — 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

In his situation, let's say he just came back home from doing... whatever you imagined. He's too immersed at the moment that he doesn't realize it's already late and now, he already has someone waiting for him at home. “Hmm? Already asleep? I didn't think I took that long.” He'd toss his robe to the side and sit down in front of your sleeping body, “Look at you, willing to stay up for me until you fall asleep.” He chuckles. “We have quite a few things to do once you wake up. Until then, dream of me.” He then sighs when he sees you probably fall off the couch, “I don't want to sleep on the floor though,” as he lifts your body and walks towards the bed.

◈ — 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

It's always the same case with him if he comes home late, overtime. He'd feel sorry for not coming home earlier since you must have been very sleepy just to wait for him. His shoulder slumps as he closes the door and loosens his tie as he walks towards the couch to see you already asleep. “You must be tired waiting for me.” He'd sit beside you and hold your hand, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. He immediately notices the position you're sleeping in and lets out a sigh again, “That can't be comfortable,” as he lays your body down. He'll join you to sleep, resting his back on the couch's pillow and placing a hand on your body.

◈ — 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎

“I'm home.” He'd be worried and concerned when he came home and saw you sleeping on the couch alone at night but he'd be relieved when he saw that you had at least a blanket wrapped over you. He'd just sit beside you, staring at your peaceful face in deep slumber. “I'm sorry I came back home late, I have something to do.” He'd caress your arm, apologizing for whatever reason he's late even when you're sleeping. “I'm afraid I'll wake you up if I lift you to the bedroom.” He makes himself comfortable on the couch as he tries to think of a few things he can do to make you a little happy later on once you wake up.

◈ — 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

“Hmm?” He'd be confused when you're not there by the door to greet him like usual. He walks close towards the couch to see you there, already fast asleep. His eyes glance towards the clock to show the time that indeed is already late, and he immediately figures that you must be asleep waiting for him since you're not in bed as usual. “You shouldn't wait for me when you're already sleepy, I told you this. You're so stubborn sometimes.” He says to himself with a shake of his head, a small grin appears on his face, as he kneels to look at your face better. “I'm glad you're willing to wait for me though.” He chuckles to himself as he caresses your head.

◈ — 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈

Megumi would stare at your sleeping body on the couch, hugging his dog plushie with no blanket to be seen, and then glance at the clock, showing that it's not that late yet, before letting out a soft sigh. “(Y/N).” He carefully shakes you awake, feeling a bit guilty as he does so since you must be feeling sleepy to fall asleep quite earlier than usual. Once your eyes slowly open, he'll hold your hand gently. “You shouldn't sleep on the couch like this just to wait for me... you'll catch a cold.” He cares so much for you and he's trying to show it with his way. “Next time, just wait in the bedroom. Now let's go to bed. You can continue to sleep there.” He squeezes your hand in his. “I will join you after I shower, okay?”

◈ — 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈

“Why are you sleeping on the couch?” He asks your sleeping body before kneeling in front of your laid down body on the couch. “You look so cute.” He mumbles as he admires your face. He sleeps on the couch sometimes, he doesn't mind a bit of soreness since the couch is not exactly as soft as the bed, but he doesn't want you to feel the same. “(Y/N)... (Y/N)...” He pokes your cheek with his index finger gently to wake you up. “Let's go to bed? I'll give you a nice, big cuddle.” He grins widely as he waits for you to open your eyes when you start to stir in your sleep from his constant poking. “Let me help you get up, you're still sleepy.”

◈ — 𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀

Yuta would be surprised that you're willing to make yourself sleep less comfortable on the couch waiting for him. “Eh? Why are you sleeping here?” He walks towards you, only to see your eyes are still closed in deep slumber. “You should be asleep on the bed...” He mumbles as he caresses your cheek with his thumb as gently as he can since he's afraid he'll wake you up. “Did I come home too late?” He asks himself quietly, not quite keeping up with the time. “Did you overwork yourself alone?” He then asks your sleeping body as he checks for any signs of fatigue. He'll join you to sleep after adjusting your position and blanket, making sure you're as comfortable as you can on the couch.

I shall write for all (for satisfication purposes) 🫡

[st4rrth0ughts]

Fingering Aventurine till he cant take it anymore. ♣️🎲

tw/cw: fingering, begging, dacryphillia, rough sex, against the wall, semi public-public (office, unlocked and door half open), missionary, creampie, petnames (angel, darling, sweetheart), belly bulge, cervix fucking, mind break A/n: hi im back

He was being a brat all day, ignoring you because you had paperwork to do, refusing to give you your daily kiss, and spending all night at the casino, gambling. If only he knew how pent up you'd been all day… he wouldn't be in this position, trapped on your lap. But naughty boys deserve punishment, don't they?

The way Aventurine keeps bucking his hips onto your two fingers shoved deep into his pussy, whimpering and moaning softly as slick dribbled down his bare thighs, your gloved hand running smoothly over his chest, all while his hands are gripping your collar in a death grip. Behind the desk, it merely looked like Aventurine and his lovely bodyguard were just in another stupid intimate position, which may IPC members often find the two in. Despite the many warnings and yelling you two received from Diamond and the occasionally Topaz with Numby's aggressive squeaking, it didn't stop the two of your from fucking right here in the dead of night.

A small cry escapes him as he cums on your girthy fingers for the 3rd, 4th time that night? He's lost count, but its not enough. "hnn…darling, nh, p-please, i want your cock, pleease!" The gambler's hips were bouncing on your fingers incessantly, his beautiful purple eyes hazy with lust and need as a bit of drool slipped past his lips. You've punished him enough, if you left him like this, he'll be sure to hiss and complain until you give in. Pulling off your pants which Aventurine had already undone, somehow, and pushing him up against the wall, a satisfied grin on the gambler's face arises.

It quickly dissipates as he's screaming into your shoulder as your length plows into his slick pussy, no matter how many times you two had sex, rough or gentle, Aventurine was very sure he'd never fully get used to your length. Your cock hitting that sweets spongy spot deep inside him, the way your finger reaches down to assault his clit, pinching and rolling it between your finger in tandem with your movements, the only thing he's able to do is moan and drool as his eyes roll back, cumming around your cock as it hits his cervix.

He doesn't know when, but suddenly, the two of you were on the couch in his office, fully visible if anyone walked past the half open office door. His back was pressed against the couch, and he almost faints when he sees the bulge in his belly, crying out as your cock pounds against his cervix, wrapping his legs tightly around your waist, his breathe coming out in heavy puffs and tears spilling down his reddened cheeks, his hands weakly grasping at the cushion behind his head.

When your hips jerk and he feels warmth spilling into his body, filling his cunt full of your seed, his mind goes blank as his thoughts evaporate into nothing, his pupils hazy as the gambler's body twitched weakly. You pull away as his legs falls back onto the couch, cum spilling out of his puffy cunt into a small pool, his legs jerking slightly as he squirts. A soft wail emerges from the blonde's throat as you ick him up, sitting behind him as his back is pressed to your chest, legs forced open as he feels you thrust your still hard cock into his leaking pussy.

Aventurine almost instantly squirts again, a loud shriek escaping him as you fuck your cum right back into him, the thrill of anyone walking by, deciding to be nosy, and just stumbling upon the senior manager being fucked like a cute whore was too much for him to handle as his mind blanks out, creaming around your cock as his body goes limp, his bright diamond pupils melting into pretty hearts as his legs spasm. Cooing softly as you release in him, pulling out as it spills from the gambler's folds and onto the floor, humming as you shut the door from where the two of you are seated, locking it. He looks pretty when he's fucked dumb like this, maybe you should do it more often.

[motimatcha]

miss you

hazbin hotel Adam x fem!reader

what happens to Adam when you go away for a long time?

Adam really depends on how much attention you give him. As a man who was abandoned by two wives for a "duck" and as a man who was clearly abandoned in subsequent relationships (which most likely were), your attention and confirmation that you are not going anywhere is very important to him.

Adam will probably never admit it, but he gets very worried if he doesn't see you for most of his day. Moreover, you don’t have to have any contact with each other, if Adam just sees you a couple of times a day and you pay your attention to him, he will be more than calm.

And therefore, the information that you will have to leave heaven for two whole weeks, just because you need to start teaching people on the true path, on the righteous path, did not make him happy at all. Most likely, there was a whole scene where Adam tried, if not to beg you to stay, then at least to go with you. He was ultimately not allowed.

Adam, of course, accompanies you (along with Lute, to whom you give instructions on how to deal with your man). He wants to enjoy his last moments with you before the long days of waiting for your return begin. His hands never stop touching your body: constantly holding your hand, intertwining your fingers, putting his hand on your waist, touching your wings, stroking your hair, kissing and all that - he wants to remember the feeling of your body, taste and voice for the entire time while you're gone.

It holds up relatively well. At first. Over time, it becomes noticeable to everyone how his character is deteriorating, it becomes even worse until the moment of your relationship, which is an indicator and a wake-up call for other angels. Everything reminded him of you, especially being in your common home (not surprising): your things, photographs, smell. Adam, at first, even out of habit, sets the table for two, before remembering that you are temporarily absent. Your portion goes to Lute, who feels awkward.

Perhaps the climax was when Adam decided to take up his work as the leader of the exorcists. He needed at least something to prevent obsessive thoughts from entering his head, and due to the fact that the seraphim refused to provide him with any information about you, these thoughts visit him quite often. Adam locks himself in his office and finally touches the papers and documents that required his attention.

He spends his time working from early morning until late evening, sometimes simply spending the night in his office. Adam becomes nervous, tense and angry with every matter that he cannot solve due to his hot-tempered nature, since some decisions required a sensitive attitude and could not be solved with a snap of his fingers. Usually he asked for your help or advice, but due to your absence, he had to turn to Lute, who was also not known for her kindness and gentleness of character.

Adam begins to get annoyed by other angels, especially the happy angels or couples that he meets here and there. "Why are they so happy?" — flashes through his head, or: “Everyone is deliberately getting on my nerves?!”. At some point, Adam breaks down. This probably happened in his office, when some angel handed him a new stack of documents and raised the topic of your absence.

Lute, who was returning to Adam’s office, found a picture of a frightened angel lying on the floor, and Adam bending over him and almost growling at him to get out. After this incident, the angels try to tiptoe around Adam, not look in his direction and not breathe, and God is a witness to whoever upsets Adam’s fragile mental balance. From now on, all matters are transferred personally to Lute, so that she can take everything to Adam.

The angels begin to mentally count the days until your return so that this nightmare ends.

At the end of the last day, when the sky turned a shade of scarlet, as if bursting into flame, a golden portal opened in the sky testified that the angels sent to earth were returning. The rising wind pulled the curly clouds inward, which is why at first it was impossible to say for sure which of the angels appeared in heaven first.

Lute stood in the front row among those awaiting the return of their loved ones. It would be more accurate to say that she was floating almost a couple of meters from the portal, which was slowly distorting space to create a stable corridor between two dimensions. She needed to meet with you as soon as possible while Adam is in a meeting where he is 100% likely to be reprimanded for his behavior over the past two weeks.

— Lute? — sincere surprise is heard in your voice when you leave the portal and see her, and not Adam. — And where?..

— It’s because of him that we need to hurry.

Lute extends his hand to you, which you immediately take. The angel exorcist pulls you along, causing you to jerk forward sharply at first, but in time you begin to flap your own wings, trying to keep up with the girl.

During these two weeks among people, you forgot how powerful exorcist angels are.

You can't help but notice how some angels accompany you with looks of encouragement, looks of relief. You can only wonder what this is connected with, but Adam will definitely be the main figure in this matter. It was suspiciously quiet in parliament, only the rustling of papers, the fluttering of wings, and barely audible whispers coming from the offices behind the high doors. Initially, it was suspicious that Lute brought you here, and not to your home or Adam’s home, and only when approaching his office did you clearly see this certain line, an exclusion zone, where there is not a single ascended soul except you and Lute.

— Adam is now at a meeting, — Lute informs you and, taking out the keys, opens the door to the office, — Please wait for him here.

Lute's voice was full of unspoken pleas and a little panic, as if something terrible would happen if you left. Perhaps Lute’s fears were not so far from the truth, because who knows what Adam will do if he doesn’t see you today; he already missed the opportunity to meet you first. Lute leaves, apparently after Adam, so that he does not waste his time searching for you near the portal to Earth.

Adam's office greets you with darkness, illuminated by light from the crack under the door. The room is hot and stuffy, and there is a sour taste; you doubt that Adam ventilated his own office or did it very rarely. The room was surprisingly tidy and the mountain of documents that was on the table during your last visit was missing, indicating that there was work. Having spread your wings, you fly up to the thickly curtained window to not only let the light of the setting sun into the room, but also to give way to the fresh evening air.

Fingers pull the string and the curtains part to the sides, raising clouds of dust from the windowsill. It immediately becomes lighter, warmer and more comfortable, even a certain atmosphere of romance and mystery creeps in. You pull the handles of the windows, allowing them to creak open and immediately a cool breeze slid over your body, ruffling your hair and feathers of your wings. Until Adam's hot hands touched your waist.

— Hi Adam, — you say and turn in his arms so you’re face to face. — Well, what have you already done?

Adam's grip only became stronger on your waist, but not yet so pressing as to cut off your access to oxygen. Adam, like a cat or dog that was starving for the attention of its beloved owner, wanted to be as close to you as possible, to occupy all your thoughts - a selfish desire to be your only priority. His hand takes your wrist to bring it to his face and rub against your palm, tickling the sensitive skin with the stubble that has begun to grow. Adam looked really tired, as evidenced not only by the dark circles under his eyes, but also by his slow, inhibited actions.

— Sweet tits, who do you even think I am?.. And in general, I really missed my beauty, who left her beloved guy for two weeks. Do you know how I suffered for you?

Looking around his office again and remembering the looks that accompanied you from the other angels, you could imagine the scale of the tragedy that Adam caused every day. And it was honestly and sincerely funny, even a little sweet; a laugh escapes your lips, causing Adam to smile as well before scooping you up in his arms and turning to face his desk, setting you down on the dark wooden surface.

— Next time I’ll go with you, wherever it may be, — Adam promised you with a threat, and then his smile turns from gentle to anticipatory. The fingers on your sides dig deeper into your skin and pull you towards the edge of the table, causing you to wrap your legs around his body and feel his growing erection. — And now you have to take care of the fact that you abandoned me for two weeks.

[tsuvvy]

Damian would never admit it but he actually loves coloring with little sister reader 😚 It’s such a nice stress reliever for him after a chaotic day as a teenage vigilante. Would love to see you write this!!

Color Therapy

Pairing: Damian Wayne x youngest sibling reader

Summary: Damian couldn't deny you were sweeter than you put yourself off to be. And, coloring was more therapeutic than he was expecting.

Warnings: Mentions of you living on Gotham streets and being homeless, mention of robberies, nothing really bad in this though

Word Count: 1.2k

You were an odd kid, that's for sure. You were younger than Damian, about a year or two, so he had expected someone more.. Childlike.

But you were an indifferent kid. You obviously came from a rough background, having grown up on the streets of Gotham. But still. His point stands when he was expecting someone more childlike.

You never reacted to the glares or scowls you received from him. You only returned his mean, annoyed gazes with a calm, unconcerned one of your own. Slowly, Damian had stopped giving you these scowls and glares.

And slowly, his school and vigilante work started to take up most of his time. He'd started visiting the library more often to study for his exams and finish his homework. And with that, he noticed something. He'd noticed it was common for him to find you within the library with a sheet of paper and just some highlighters. Usually, he'd just ignore your presence and sit elsewhere in the library.

He doesn't know why, but. He just started sitting with you. Neither of you would say a word. You would just sit in the comfortable silence filled with your coloring of highlighters on paper, and Damian’s typing of keys on his computer and turning of book pages.

“Y/n,” he finally spoke your name after a few days. You looked up at him. “Why do you only have highlighters?”

You looked down at your piece of paper for a second before saying, “They were all I could find.” You looked back up at him. Damian and you left that conversation there.

But the next time he came to the library, he dropped a pack of nice colored pencils in front of you.

You stared at the pencils for a moment before looking up at him. He caught your gaze.

“What?” He asked, looking back down at the book he had for his homework.

“Wanna color with me?” You asked abruptly. It made Damian pause in his tracks. He looked up at you, his gaze flitting to your paper, the highlighters, and the colored pencils he'd just given you.

“No.” He said, looking back at his book. But something kept him from reading. “Thank you, though..” His voice was quieter.

Nights like this tired Damian out. It was a stressful night. It was just supposed to be a patrol. But there were a string of robberies out of seemingly nowhere. He was exhausted.

And now he was slugging throughout the halls. He yawned just as he passed an agape door. He glanced through the crack. And what he saw made him stop in his tracks.

You were laying on the floor of your room coloring with the pencils he had given you. He didn't know why he stepped forward to your door. And he didn't know why he pushed it open.

You looked up at him. And he looked back at you. You seem to understand what even Damian couldn't.

“Wanna color?” You asked again like you had earlier.

Damian glanced down the hall to his room before looking back at you and your coloring stuff.

“Fine..” He gave in, stepping into your room and sitting on the floor across from you. He took the paper you handed him and grabbed a few colored pencils from the box you had moved closer to him.

It took him a moment to decide what he wanted to draw. But when he began to draw, it was weird.

His head was empty and it just seemed so.. Simple? He was calm..

“Can I use the red?” You asked, your hand was out awaiting for the red pencil.

“Yeah,” He put the red colored pencil in your hand.

Damian sighed as he put a textbook he had acquired from math on the library table.

Damian glanced at you from across the table, you were coloring like always. Then he looked down at his homework. He didn't want to do this. He never did. Homework was annoying. And you seemed to read his mind, because without even looking at him, you passed him a sheet of paper and moved the box closer to him.

Damian closed his computer and stood up from his seat. He moved to one next to you so you could both share the pencils better.

Damian could practically feel his stress and annoyance slowly wash off of him.

“Purple please,” You asked him.

“Mhm,” He hummed, finishing the area he needed to with the purple before he placed it into your hand.

“Damian,” you called his name within the halls of school.

“What?” He looked down at you when you took up pace with him.

“All the colored pencils in the box you gave me are short and hard to use now,” You told him, looking up at him.

“Alright,” He looked ahead, “I’ll get some more, then.”

“Could you get a bigger box with more variety in colors?” You asked.

“Yeah, I can.” He nodded.

“Thank you!” You said, hugging his arm abruptly before running off to class, joining a few kids you had made at the very least acquaintances with.

The way you hugged his arm startled him, he hadn’t expected it. He watched you run off, his heart feeling like it’s blooming like a flower.

Damian dropped the box in front of you where you sat on the floor of your room. He took a seat across from you much like he had the first time he joined you for coloring.

You looked at the back where the names of all the colors were, and sure enough, there was more of a variety like you had requested.

You passed him a piece of paper and put the box in between you two so you both could reach it.

“Why do you color so much?” Damian asked you.

“My head is quiet when I do.” You replied.

Damian paused in his coloring, looking up at you. “What do you think about when you don’t?”

You were quiet for a moment. “What I saw growing up on the streets of Gotham.” He didn’t need you to go into detail to know what that short sentence implied.

He looked backed down at his sheet of paper. He put the pencil he had down.

“Are you using the light green?” He asked. You shook your head and handed him the light green pencil.

You two were quiet for awhile. Silently coloring in a comfortable silence.

“You know you’re safe here, right?” He looked at you, and you finally looked back at him. “You’re here for good, you aren’t going anywhere.”

You stayed quiet.

“You’re safe here.”

You stayed quiet.

“Say something.”

“Thank you.”

Damian looked back down at his sheet of paper at your words, taking it as your understanding of his words.

Damian usually thinks of his own traumas when nothing occupies his brain. Or he’s doing homework. Or he’s fighting crime.

He doesn’t often give himself moments of peace.

But when he’s coloring with you in a comfortable silence like he is now. It’s like for once, a moment of peace washes over him.

He hated to admit it. But you and your dumb coloring were nice. It was nice for him to finally have a quiet moment.

Damian hates being vulnerable, and he feels almost vulnerable.

But he couldn’t deny it anymore. These moments were therapeutic.