#this just comes off as deeply perverse

[a-god-in-ruins-rises]

my brother in christ jefferey dahmer

[staryuee]

WHAT THEY DO WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE!

꒰warnings꒱ not proofread, dainsleif/pantalone may be ooc (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . just cute habits, actions etc that they do, whether intentionally or not, after being struck with cupid’s arrow.

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . jean, diluc, zhongli, xiao, nilou, xianyun, dehya, wanderer, arlecchino, pantalone, dainsleif

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . scrolling through the genshin tag makes me wanna die sometimes…i’m trying to do investigative work and i have to quickly scroll past the same smutty language like it’s booktok torture + also i’ve been playing baldurs gate 3 for the past several days and i think i’ve developed a problem…

G. JEAN — 琴

ʚ jean is very subtle in the way she loves someone, she doesn’t want to keep it secret per se, but her love is always almost adjacent to a puppy crush; something that seems fleeting but in the long run returns harder and hits oh so much worse.

ʚ she can’t necessarily abuse her powers, and she wouldn’t dare dream of messing up the order she so carefully has managed to maintain, so the way she tries to convey her feelings across isn’t too brash or loud.

ʚ simple things like letting her hands brush against yours when she passes you documents, allowing you to visit her office whenever you please even if it’s to just sprawl down at a nearby couch and read a book you found in the library while meandering, and even letting you join her on her daily walks across the courtyard.

ʚ during windblume festivals she won’t hesitate to strike up a seemingly harmless and friendly conversation, all the while sneaking a flower into your hair that resembles the feelings you stir up inside her fuzzy heart.

ʚ jean is overall quite an awkward person when it comes to anything related to romantic or plantoic ties, she’s a bit of a people pleaser in that way where she prefers to assume everyone’s a friend before an enemy… or in this case, “interested”.

ʚ with backup and sought guidance from her good friends lisa and kaeya, she’ll try a myriad of tactics to get you to notice her; a little shoulder massage there, a heartfelt sticky note placed on your workstation there, inviting you to classic candlelit dinners etc.

ʚ yes, believe me, she even tried the cartoonish “rose bit between teeth and uncomfortably arched side lean on a wall” approach before deciding it’s much better to listen to herself than the flamboyant duo.

R. DILUC — 迪卢克

ʚ diluc is the actual epitome of a gentleman. his love is so pure and genuine you can’t help but flower press every petal from the various bouquet he personally delivers to you on special occasions (anything from you completing a particularly hard or draining mission to doing something you thought you’d suck at).

ʚ his coat is also yours now. it’s like a six sense at this point to notice when you’re shivering out in the cold winds, and it’s become even more of a routine for him to simply shed that fluffy coat of his and drape it appropriately over your shoulders, trying to maintain a comfortable distance between you two as he adjusts it both to ease your tension and assure the pounding of his heart goes unheard.

ʚ diluc doesn’t enjoy using his riches to woo someone, it’s uncouth and just shows a desperation unbecoming of someone who dates to marry. if he wants to know you’re in it for the long haul, he’ll be much more sensitive and thoughtful when picking out gifts for you, each them have to hold some level of significance in your life.

ʚ the whole fiasco with his poor maids and some sneaky, perverse stalkers and diluc’s flaming great sword certainly applies to you as well; he’ll quietly ensure your safety in the night, helping you walk home with his arm hooked under yours, and in broad daylight he won’t hesitate to swing that polished wolf’s gravestone of his against any onlookers.

ʚ diluc is extremely closed off but deeply sentimental, he can so easily find himself rambling about his childhood stories to you; anything from how he used to collect seashells with kaeya to bring back to their dad, or how him and jean used to let baby barbara braid their hair together while babysitting…to things that are slightly more troublesome and heart wrenching to even mutter.

ʚ he may be less vocal than most in terms of feelings, but that doesn’t mean he won’t commit to it if he’s in love with someone. diluc isn’t the slightest bit dumb, he understand in order to get his feelings across he needs to do more than take random days off to spend time with you, he needs to at least hint it in a way that clearly gets his intentions across.

ʚ believe me, whenever you come by to dawn winery per notice, everyone raises a brow at you with curious smirks and gazes as diluc nearly stumbles on his words to get the phrase: “you look lovely tonight” out.

ZHONGLI — 钟离

ʚ he has up to thousands years of romantic customs under his belt, he understands the vague signs and ways to further communicate how much he adores you.

ʚ … that would be the case in its full if not for the fact for the first thousand couple years of his life he wasn’t busy maiming other gods and shedding blood. safe to say, his memories of mortal “courting” is slightly, if not absolutely, a massive, weaving and overlapping trail of various centuries and cultures he’s been accustomed to; anything ranging from the days when khaenri’ah was still in its prime to nowadays with newfound slang.

ʚ he’ll recite the most beautifully heartfelt and awfully sincere poem all the while you’re fighting your life in a haunted house (he’s heard this activity is helpful to get couples closer to one another, and given the fact you’re clinging on for dear life at the edge of his coat, he assumes he’s on the right track!)

ʚ he wants to impress you while also maintaining an air of genuineness to his actions, and while that does sometimes end in awkward situations where he ends up wearing regal attire to what’s supposed to be a casual dinner at wangmin, his heart remains completely pure in its endeavours.

ʚ oh, let’s not forget this man is quite literally a dragon too!

ʚ sometimes he can forget you don’t have the same complexion as him and will proudly present you some sort of glimmering relic from his hoard, forgetting that certain materials that existed back in the day were deadly and or toxic for mortals to touch let alone possess.

ʚ with a little nudge in the right direction, he’ll quickly learn everything there is to know for how to properly handle your precious heart. whatever you’d like, you may have — if it’s within his reach, that is. but it doesn’t mean he’ll stop at what’s available, no, just how much he’s willing to risk for you.

XIAO — 魈

ʚ he’s already embarrassed and awkward enough with accepting the fact he likes you, so accepting the fact that he loves you had left him with a lengthy exorcism spree down in some forgotten areas in liyue (it didn’t help).

ʚ in all honestly, not much changes; both because he’s rather emotionally constipated but also because he’s more than sure he’s loved you for longer than he seems to currently acknowledge.

ʚ letters that came only on special occasions like your birthday or his became much more frequent and a lot less poetic, it felt more like he was writing about his thoughts at the time, a little akin to how you’ve made him feel less constricted and much more free; he can finally have the courage to step out of his comfort zone.

ʚ all those small acts of love he used to subtly express (i.e gifting you two crystaflies, personally inviting you to come hang out, etc) he manages to double, he can’t have you thinking his intentions are the same as before. no, they’re much stronger now.

ʚ his guard softens around you regardless, but when you randomly fall asleep on his shoulder on your weekly visits at wangshu inn, instead of taking you to one of the rooms, he’ll sit there and allow you to rest, and if he’s assured you’re not awake to ridicule him, maybe, just maybe…he’ll sneakily loop his arm around your waist.

ʚ even just the thought of you makes him spiral into daydreaming, sitting atop a tree and swinging his leg back and forth carelessly as he stares up at the night to await for a new light, knowing full well the only sun he wants to see is you…just imagining his hands holding your waist like they did so long ago makes him shiver (hopefully this time he’ll get to do it when you’re not falling, and instead are falling for him)

NILOU — 妮露

ʚ nilou is basically a disney princess, if you see her singing to random birds that come watch her performances, everyone in the grand bazaar already knows it’s because you’ll be in the crowd that night.

ʚ each step within her routines are done with the little more passion, if that even is possible given her character, all because she imagines that pride and hopeful heart eyes in your eyes as all the attention is on her.

ʚ sometimes this fixation can lead to dumb mistakes on stage which bring her to sulking away with a hand on her forehead dabbing away at the sweat, but even the mention of your name as you pass by several sumeru streets is enough for her to brighten, do a quick wardrobe switch and run off to tackle you within her embrace.

ʚ nilou is not loud, but definitely not subtle. the exact representation of how she feels when you come to encourage her at her lowest (though those days are few). you’re there for her in ways you don’t imagine, and that alone is enough for her to daze away into the night as she cuddles her pillow, legs wrapped around it and all, and begins thinking about the what ifs of your relationship.

ʚ sometimes it’s a little comedic the way she speaks about you, it almost sounds like she’s reminiscing about a fictional book character with how much she takes pride in whatever little thing you do. no one tires of seeing her footsteps lightly tap against the ground in circles as she gushes about how when you complimented her the other day, you touched her cheek seemingly subconsciously ∩^ω^∩

XIANYUN — 闲云

ʚ she’s a little embarrassed at just how obvious she can be sometimes, it doesn’t help the fact her own children keep using this love of hers to their advantage.

ʚ she keeps nagging them about not taking care of themselves (she’s all too keen about their health and whereabouts now that she dwells alongside liyuean people) and yet just the mention of your name has her slightly stuttering in a ditzy trance as she hooks her glasses back up her nose bridge.

ʚ without hesitance, she’ll show you a photo album she has of all those close to her; would you like to see the drawing little ganyu made when she just barely had her horns? or perhaps the polearm young shenhe broke when she miscalculated her own strength in training?

ʚ her family is her pride and joy, it’s only natural for her to want you to be part of it even if it’s something as silly as raking through photos of a chubby ganyu eating the stem of a flower or teeny shenhe napping on a tree.

ʚ a peaceful life mingling with mortals has left her with ample time to enjoy the trivialities of life, and yet she finds her mind all too quickly wandering to you; had you been taking care of yourself? were you feeling lonely? did you need her to make something for you?

ʚ a secretive worry wart that quickly becomes that ancient adetpus she used to pride herself as soon as your delicate hands accidentally brush against hers; suddenly she’s perked up, chest heaven up high with a confident hand on her shoulder: you wouldn’t even think that flurry of pink hues gushing across her cheeks was real if not for the light providing evidence.

DEHYA — 迪希雅

ʚ oh she’s absolutely ecstatic!!

ʚ there’s genuinely nothing better than love in her eyes, especially just having the ability to love and trust someone fully when you haven’t been able to do so for a plethora of years.

ʚ doesn’t try to hide it, like at all, if anything she makes it rather obvious with the way she constantly pulls you closer as if you were already an item, arms constantly clinging onto you and your sides or her hands messing up your hair as you greet her.

ʚ she’ll take you anywhere you ask, free of charge of course (just promise to smile…and maybe if you’re up for it give her a kiss on the cheek, that’s sure to be enough reimbursement).

ʚ she’s already quite a confident and outwardly friendly person (if the price is right that is) but when in your presence? what’s wrong with just a little bit of showing off…

ʚ dehya needs you to see the best side of her!! maybe then you’ll finally give in and realise that her constantly asking for you to come join her on her travels and commissions isn’t brought out of mere timed coincidence

WANDERER — 流浪者

ʚ i saw that a few people were upset and confused by wanderer’s sudden switch up into being more kind/friendly, but i think we all forget what kind of person he was before his betrayals.

ʚ he loves wholeheartedly, if he adores something it consumes him in a warm pit of mushy domesticity — he doesn’t hate love or being kind, he hates the way it makes him vulnerable and the way it reminds him of the way he used to be.

ʚ that also means he’ll completely ignore you, or, try his best to rather.

ʚ wanderer knows within his heart that he completely years for you, just the accidental slip of his gaze meeting yours makes his brain go haywire, sending volts of electricity down his spine — you make him feel so alive.

ʚ it’s terrifying to return to a person you once were especially now with the knowledge of how being the way you were lead to some sort of tragedy, he’s managed to build up these walls so high and here you were, sneaking in through cracks he didn’t even know he had.

ʚ and he both loves it and hates it; loves the fact he can still feel, but hates how he’s so easily susceptible.

ʚ loving you turns into self-loathing and brooding, his feet pacing up and down every street at night to clear his muddled head. small distractions like taking strolls in meadows or sleeping up in the vines of trees lead to just thoughts of you and you alone.

ʚ wanderer refuses to be overly friendly and buddy-buddy with you even if he’s aware that if you decided to just one day hold him sincerely he’d burst into tears, but he can compromise with being less cutthroat.

ʚ “shut the fuck up” turns into him just rolling his eyes at you as you ramble (he soaks up any piece of information he can and locks it away), items you gift him now are more apparent in their value as he yells at those who dare question the dumb aranara pin you bought him and placed sneakily on his hat…oh and he gives you hat privileges.

ʚ it’s raining? …get close to him so you don’t begin complaining about the way the rain feels on your skin.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

ʚ she starts treating you less like an asset in her “contact if in need of assistance” roster and more like a friend — of course, she maintains that distance between you two, but she lets you wriggle around in her heart to see if you manage to fit.

ʚ chances are, you will — unknowingly she’d grown to love you in ways that may have even gone unnoticed by her given how natural they were; inviting you to random gatherings when the whim arises, pulling your chair out for you when out for brunch, or even tucking away strands of hair and twirling it around playfully.

ʚ arlecchino’s love isn’t something immediate or expected, she’s a woman who keeps every card close to her chest and her children even closer, you have to prove to her that you’re worth it, in a way that doesn’t necessarily mean spilling blood but more so answers the question: do you care, and are you willing to accept her blinding love?

ʚ it’s like a shepherd dog with a lost lamb, but that little sheep is just you, and she’s a wolf in need of a muse.

ʚ cute tea parties aren’t uncommon with the two of you, she’ll happily let you indulge yourself in treats as she leans back with scorching tea in her hands while memorising every curve of your lips as you chew and swallow, she loves watching the way your eyes crinkle when you smile and the little sway from side to side you occasionally do as an expression of joy.

ʚ once arlecchino notices that she’s began treating you as another authority figure in the house of hearth, she’ll reach and collar you gently, intertwining her dark, cursed hand into your flowery one.

PANTALONE — 潘塔罗涅

ʚ one of the most attractive qualities a man can have is knowing when to shut the fuck up and to slide his card over during a dinner — both such things pantalone can do effortlessly, especially when it comes to you.

ʚ arlecchino claims that: “he allows his actions to be governed by the vengeance and hatred locked in the depths of his heart.” something that definitely translates into his love affairs in more than obsessive manners.

ʚ don’t be afraid of the massive hauls of clothing and sparkling jewellery galore that are being trudged in by multiple men, darling, it’s just a menial souvenir from his latest travels and newfound connections that he thought you might enjoy ^^

ʚ while his grandeur usually stems from his deep hearted desire to overthrow the imbalance between immortals and mortals, rest assured the luxury he provides you purely stems from his desire to make you his.

ʚ whether that entails you being his pet for him to seek comfort from on the occasion or a genuine connection where he can comfortably hold you at night purely depends on you.

ʚ oh, you’ll let him chew your ear off about his recent expedition and extravagant plan? consider your rent payed for the next few months and a few kisses on your cheek that certainly aren’t actually part of the snezhnayan custom (let him indulge in those little cravings or else he’ll undoubtedly be petty).

DAINSLEIF — 戴因斯雷布

ʚ has a breakdown.

ʚ a little dramatic, but honestly if his entire life wasn’t a disgusting mess already, you’ve come to make it worse. fate is deliberately mean to brooding blondes it seems, given the fact he’s now stuck pacing around back and forth on a trail of dead abyss mages as he rereads a letter you’ve sent him weeks ago.

ʚ everything you give to him, everything you say, do, write, whatever, he remembers implicitly. each word you say is engraved into him as if they were important artefacts regardless of how pointless and mundane.

ʚ it can honestly get a little…scary at times? you’ll mention liking something once and all of a sudden you find it within your possession at least a few weeks later.

ʚ dainsleif doesn’t have enough time to wallow in the glory of mushy, all consuming love despite desperately wanting to imagine how your hand would feel caressing down past each of his scars, but what he can do is protect you, and to him that’s a greater blessing than intimacy he knows will end eventually.

ʚ a big tough man who would honestly fold the moment you call him any variation of a pet name, specifically with the word “mine/my” at the beginning — hey, it’s nice knowing you mean something to someone the point they view you as inseparable.

ʚ the timings at which he comes to aid you are all too convenient and believe me he’ll try his best to downplay it as coincidence, all the while he’s breathing heavily both from the face your eyes are scanning his so closely and the fact he used up so much energy to merely make a portal to sneak into your space.

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

[holybibly]

Unholy thoughts of the day: Yunho could fool anyone with his cute looks and gentle demeanour, but only you knew that underneath that cute facade was a real freak in the sheets. Or you thought Yunho was a typical vanilla guy, but it turned out he had too much spice for you to swallow.

Yunho has a big, thick cock. In fact, a huge, veiny cock that he knows exactly how to use. He's definitely the type of guy who likes to use his cock to play with your tiny, sweet pussy. Yunho knows that he can fuck you senseless and he doesn't have to prove anything, so he enjoys himself completely and takes his time to caress your cunt sweetly for as long as he likes.

The sight of his thick cock sliding between your swollen, sticky from his saliva pussy lips drives him crazy. He moans deeply, rubbing the head of his cock against your folds, coating them in a glaze of his pre-cum, before slamming his huge cock against your pussy, watching the thick, sticky strands of your mucus mixed with his sperm stretch from his cock to your pussy as he pulls it away from you.

Yunho can't get enough of the way you slide your pussy all over his long, veiny cock without penetration. He's lying on the bed like a king, his legs spread wide and his hands cupping your tits as you lather his cock with your slick. One of your hands is on his chest while the other is behind your back, massaging his tight, cum-filled balls.

Yuyu also likes to slap his wet cock your cheeks and tongue and make you suck and lick his balls as he rubs his length all over your face. He'll torture you for hours just by sticking the head of his cock into your tight little hole and making you warm it up while his fingers fuck your mouth sensually and deeply.

Yunho looks sweet, but he is a total freak in the sheets, with many kinky tastes and fetishes. He will use his big hands to spank your ass, your tits, and your sweet princess-pussy.

Imagine you sitting on his hands in front of a mirror, your legs spread wide, and his cum pouring out of your used hole. He slaps your pussy gently with his palm and whispers dirt in your ear, getting rougher with each slap. Imagine how after another slap you squirt and Yunho moans deep and guttural, his dick pressing against your lower back, and you feel how he cums untouched. "Fuck, do it again. Squirt for me again." He slaps your swollen, squirting pussy again, and more fluid spurts out in copious streams. He wants to see it a few more times before he impales you on his cock and pounds your cunt until it's full.

He likes to watch you jerk him off, your fingers barely covering his cock; you can't get it in your mouth either, so he slaps you in the face with his cock and patronisingly whispers to you to try again. He also likes to jerk off on you while you're being fucked by a sex machine. 

Yunho is dirty, very dirty, and perverted, so he buys you a dildo with a container for synthetic cum. And then Yunho shyly whispers in your ear that he has a big kink for sperm, or rather sperm coming out of your trembling little cunt.

He would watch as a fake cock stretched and stuffed your pussy, pouring synthetic cum into you in abundance, coming out of your hole in thick, milky streams. This sight would drive him crazy, and he would jerk himself off as you moan and squirm for him.  He also loves to fuck your breasts and shoot his cum all over them. Oh,  Yunho is definitely one who wants to cum all over your face, smearing cum all over your cheeks and lips. And he wants to cover you all over with his cum.

You'll never admit it to him, but it's his perversions and dark, dirty sexuality that drive you crazy, and every time you cum with his name on your lips, you fall more and more in love with him.

[bunnyscrypt]

so wet

♪ so wet - elita ♪

bestfriend!perv!sarah takes any opportunity she can to watch and get off to you whether it’s catching you in the shower, changing your clothes, in your swimwear —even just an innocent picture of you is enough to make her feel hot. she’s been pretty good at being sneaky until one day she gets caught. hc’s; fem!reader, sarah being a creep, sexual tension, masturbation, perversion, slight somno, panty sniffing

perv!sarah who is very aware of her perverse obsession. she knows she shouldn’t fantasize about you the way she does, you’re her best friend and besides.. she doesn’t even like girls but after catching sight of you changing —her eyes roamed all over your body, heat rushing to her core all she could think about was how your body would feel on hers.

she couldn’t even look you in the eyes for a while the first time she jerked off to the thought of her grinding against you, lips locked in a heated kiss but that remorse went away quick when she found herself embracing that sickness.

perv!sarah who clenches her thighs tightly when she watches you eat ice cream. picturing you between them, tongue licking all over her lower lips, sucking on her clit. she has to excuse herself to somewhere private and get off as quietly as she can.

perv!sarah who gets herself off watching you in the shower. coming out of the bathroom, drying her hair, a towel tightly wrapped around her body. “your turn” she goes her drawer pretending to gather her night clothes only to stand next to the slightly open bathroom door when she hears you get in the shower— peeking in to see you lathering your body— her fingers rubbing against her aching cunt as she watches your hands rub over your breasts, your stomach, to between your thighs wishing they were hers instead.

perv!sarah who couldn’t help but hump onto your thigh when you’re cuddled up in bed. legs tangled together—the perfect position for her to slowly grind her pussy against your skin. she should feel bad but how could she when your body is pressed right up against hers with your arms wrapped tightly around her body, breasts pushing into hers. she wasn’t able to stop herself from practically riding your thigh to reach an orgasm, cumming in her shorts with a sharp gasp.

perv!sarah who would stare at the pictures she took of you on the beach with her hand down her shorts. the way your swim suit fit your body just right. yeah it was wrong but she just can’t help it, it felt so good.

perv!sarah who goes through your laundry until she finds a pair of panties. holding the slightly damp fabric to her nose, whimpering at the scent of you. going back to bed, shoving her hand between her legs. her fingers circled her clit as she inhaled deeply, drunk off your smell.

she was so good at hiding her infatuation with you.

until she got caught.

⠀✿⃜ᰯᰭ⃨ ●⠀

tags: @juniebugg

[itiswormtimebaby]

Here’s what I’m thinking about: Bucky finds out you’ve never been eaten out and takes that personally. 

Gif does NOT represent readers physical appearance, but just look at that tongue

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Bug (+ Brother’s best friend Bucky, plus sized fem reader) CW: Explicit, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, rimming (vague), demanding Bucky but everyone’s into it, Bucky’s mouth, virgin reader

“What the fuck did you just say?” Bucky looks up at you incredulously from where he lays between your spread legs, chin poking into the soft flesh of your stomach, his favorite pillow as of late. You were just so goddamn soft, he couldn’t get over it. 

“How is that news to you? You know I’m-”

“A virgin, not a saint. You’ve dated!” Coming from anyone else it would’ve sounded like an accusation but Bucky was truly just confused, how could someone have access to your body not have their face buried in your sweet pussy twenty-three hours a day? Hell, he’d only licked your essence off his fingers and he was already hooked. You gave a short shrug in response, not sure what to say.

“What about that guy Steve caught you with?” 

“Ew! Never speak of that, he had to bleach his eyes and I had to bleach my brain.” Normally your dramatics would’ve at least earned you a playful eye roll or indulgent chuckle but he was too distraught to offer even that, suddenly rising to his knees, back straight as he loomed over your still prone form. 

“You’re seriously telling me that jackass didn’t reciprocate? None of them did?” 

Again, unsure of how to respond you just offer him a small shrug. 

“Bug, take your goddamn pants off right now.” His tone is deadly serious, eyes blazing. He genuinely looks upset by this new information. 

“BUCKY!” 

“Now or I’m ripping them off.” 

You’re quick to arch your lower back off the bed, rushing so Bucky won’t ruin your favorite leggings, his calloused fingers joining yours in yanking the waistband down over the swell of your stomach and hips before he’s throwing them over his shoulder. As soon as you’re bared to him he drops back to his stomach, rough hands pushing your thighs apart, wasting no time in nosing at your clit. Your mortified to hear him deeply inhale, but it’s quickly lost in a wave of arousal as he begins to talk, seemingly to himself; “Can’t believe no one’s ever tasted this beautiful cunt. Fucking losers. It’s mine now” Filth continues to pour from his mouth between wet open mouthed kisses to your thighs, he alternates between biting and sucking at the soft flesh, before chasing a trail of slick from between your ass cheeks back up to your weeping hole. 

You’d never understood the phrase “he ate pussy like a man starved” until now. It was like Bucky was truly trying to devour you, tongue lapping at your achingly empty opening, a perverse parallel to how he kissed you. His tongue consistently moved over your soaking flesh, licking from one hole to the other before darting back up to your clit, suckling on it as he fucked you on a finger, making you beg for a second. The cycle continued until you were spiraling towards oblivion, his left hand reaching towards you, allowing you to lock your fingers together while your other hand twisted tightly in his hair and his continued to fuck in and out of you, now up to three fingers. 

You hear what vaguely sounds like “tastes so fucking good.” And your name, your actual name, not Bug, before you're using your grip on his hair to press him further into your cunt, grinding against him as you ride out the most intense orgasm of your life so far. Nearly spirally into a second when you come back down to earth and feel his jaw working against your overstimulated cunt as he does his best to drink in your juices. 

He pulls back just long enough to peer up at you, the entire lower half of his face soaked in your slick; “their loss.”

[perrywrites]

Absentmindedly murmuring that you want him inside of you during his practice;

NSFW 

Includes; Isagi, Hiori, Bachira

Part 2 (Chigiri, Reo) and part 3 (Kaiser, Barou) and part 4 (Nagi, Shidou, Kunigami) and part 5 (Sae, Rin, Karasu, Otoya, Yukimiya)

Isagi: it’s time for his break during practice, and he’s gulping down water, adam’s apple bobbing as he hydrates himself. He’s loosely aware of your dazed stare as you continue looking at him from the bench, after all you haven’t been very subtle in staring at him throughout practice - and although he could ignore it on field, not so much off of it. He’s still gulping down water, about to go towards you afterwards just for a quick chat, and to ask you why you’ve been staring at him so much, unusually quietly. Then you say something that makes him freeze up, setting fire to his face and nearly killing him in the process. “I want you inside of me…” you mumble that, sighing in a manner as if he had romanced you. The surprise proves near fatal, and he’s choking on his water, turning away from you as his ears burn up fiercely. What? What? Did you actually just say that? Or has he somehow actually gone crazy now? Some sort of brain fatigue? An answer to his unasked question comes in the form of your lighthearted giggle, as you apologize casually for letting your thoughts slip out. That doesn’t do anything to calm the fire heating up his skin, heart thundering throughout his body, especially not when your eyes are still just as dazed when you look up at him, all lovesick and opaque with longing. “You can’t just say that,” he says, voice quiet and strained, face still heavily flushed. You giggle, and tease him a bit more, before he goes back to practice. Except now he can’t focus on anything anymore. All he can think about are your sweet words, that lovesick gaze of yours, and the softness of your plush walls. His mind is failing, and you’ve proven to be a magnificent distraction. The only thing on his mind right now is how badly he wants to sink into you and fuck you hard for even daring to say that outloud. He wants to pin you down and have his way with you, make you so dumb on his cock, fill you up - and oh god. He’s clenching his hands, flexing any muscles in his body that he can, trying to divert the blood away from his cock, because his shorts were starting to feel a little too tight. Fuck, look at what you’ve done. Are you proud of yourself? You’re not going to be getting away with this, you know that, right? Why did you think it was a good idea to tease him like this during practice, make him want you so badly? Was last night not enough? Just wait until the end of practice. He’ll be pouncing on you with a growl, dragging you somewhere private he can pound some fucking sense into you. Don’t bother trying to run away, you know he’ll catch you.

Hiori: he finds himself raising an amused eyebrow as he walks towards you during his break, noting how you’re still looking at him, all dreamy and dazed, gaze thick with longing. He knows more than well enough the meaning of that stare, your expressions always give away far too much, but he doesn’t call you out on it. Instead, he asks you lightly if something’s wrong, taking sips of his water. He freezes before he can go in for a third sip, some water spilling out from the top of the bottle at his sudden pause. Did he hear you right? Did you actually just say that? He blinks, looking at you, and his eyes narrow darkly when he catches that spacey fuzzy look on your face. How do you manage to look so innocent and corruptible despite just saying such a perverse thing? He doesn’t understand it, no matter how many times he thinks about it, but what he does know is how that spaced out look on your face never fails to stir sinful desires within him, cock twitching in his pants as his body heats up. On the surface, he looks calm, as always, nothing amiss - but his eyes are clouded over deeply, and his jaw is tense. You love to test his self-restraint, don’t you? For some reason, when you two first started dating, you seemed to have the impression that he doesn’t yearn, doesn’t have a sexual appetite, and it was amusing for him to prove you wrong again and again, take you by surprise - because every time you’d be befuddled by the fact that he wants you, and that he wants you badly. That’s why you’re capable of saying something so inviting so carelessly, right? Even right now, you don’t know a single thing that’s running through his mind, do you? How he wants to watch your eyes turn all dewy, tears pooling as you whimper and sob out his name beneath him, face flushed and lips quivering, an expression only for him on your face, make you vulnerable and helpless underneath as he loves you to death. He wants to do all of those things and more, make you so weak and useless, cherish you and make you take him until you break. But, he doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he smiles impassively, walking over to you as he pats your head, but when he speaks, there’s something veiled in his controlled voice. “Don’t worry, ya only have to wait a little longer, okay?”

Bachira: throughout practice he catches your stare, noting your listless gaze as your eyes follow him run and score across the field. He’s not oblivious, though, he can tell well enough the simmering desire sitting heavy and darkly in your seemingly empty and unthinking eyes. “What’s with that look?” he asks, all toothy smirk and teasing eyes as he drinks from his bottle, eager to badger you during his small water break. But it seems like you’re a little too out of it, feeling a little too bold, because you respond bluntly, murmuring quietly that you were thinking about wanting him inside of you. He’s taken aback at your unintentional provocation, blinking away the shock as he smiles, amused. You really will be the death of him, won’t you? He tries lightheartedly teasing you, asking you what made you so impatient that you couldn’t even wait until you two were alone to tell him this, and when you say that neither of you would be able to resist right now if he got you alone, he damn near loses his mind. He can feel the heat spreading through his body, itching to do something to you as you continue looking up at him all dazed and yearning, and he tells you that exactly so, voice all husky. With a smile as normal as ever, except his eyes are glinting in a way that sends fire down your core. A whimper bubbles up your throat. “I want you to do something to me so badly, you have no clue,” you say, whimpery voice bursting out, and you’ve done it. His eyes darken needily, smile faltering, and he quickly ditches his towel and water bottle; practice be damned. Hand on your arm, he pulls you up and begins lightly dragging you somewhere else, somewhere isolated, somewhere he can fuck you and make you cry so hard on his cock you lose your voice. That’s what you get for tempting him. This is what you want, right? He’ll give it all to you, don’t worry. Just be good and submissive for him, spread those legs for him and leave your body all pliant under his hungry touch. He’ll fill you up, and he’ll keep filling you up until you’re satisfied - or rather, until he’s satisfied. Because you’ve lit a fire in him that you absolutely can’t handle - but don’t worry - he’ll hold you and love you even when you become a babbling mess on his cock, so let him break you apart right now. You’re the one that started it this time anyways, so he doesn’t have to hold back, right?

[kingkatsuki]

Here’s yet another thirst post that got out of hand. I received this ask yesterday about Hiragi teaching an inexperienced Kaji how to fuck, but it got me thinking. What if Hiragi was a little meaner?

Kaji needs a little help being meaner to you in the bedroom, and there’s no one else he’d rather ask than Hiragi.

Pairing: Kaji Ren x Hiragi Toma x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, threesome, bratty reader, brat tamer!Hiragi, dirty talk, degredation, praise, spanking, biting/marking, blowjobs, spit, choking, multiple orgasms, creampies (Hiragi fucks Kaji’s cum into us), dry humping, minimal aftercare.

Word Count: 5.6k.

“I don’t really know if this is something I can help ya with this time, Kaji.” Hiragi fiddled with a sugar packet on the table in Pothos and settled in the corner of the cafe as his friend leaned across the table.

“Why?” Kaji scrunched his nose.

Hiragi always knew what to do, he knew everything. It’s why when Kaji had thought about the topic Hiragi had been the first person that he thought about. The only person, aside from a moment of weakness when he thought about asking Kiryu — although it would’ve been far too embarrassing to ask one of his Kohai or even Umemiya — but even Kaji knew how much of a disaster that would be.

“It’s private, no?” Hiragi continued, almost laughing to himself at the fact that Kaji had asked to meet him here for this. It seemed wholly out of character for his friend, and perhaps it was proof of just how deeply Kaji felt for you, “Have you tried watching porn?”

“It’s not the same,” Kaji shook his head, trying to shake off the awkwardness bubbling in his stomach as his cheeks tinged pink, “That shows you angles, or positions— but I want to make her cum.”

“So you’ve never made her cum before?” Hiragi felt a wave of perversion come over him at asking such a blase question, but he found himself leaning forward in his seat as he waited with bated breath for the answer.

“Of course I’ve made her cum,” Kaji almost snarled, his fist coming down against the table in frustration.

He immediately buried his chin in the hem of his grey hoodie in embarrassment as the loud bang sounded in the small cafe. Hiragi sat back to wave at Kotoha from her position behind the counter in apology, a kind smile on his face before turning back to Kaji.

“I can make her cum, that’s not the problem.”

He couldn’t believe the fact that he was sitting in Pothos of all places on a Wednesday night having this conversation with Kaji. Not that there was anything wrong with the cafe, he more than enjoyed the occasional cup of coffee there– and the omelette rice truly was the best in the area. But this kind of conversation was surely better suited for somewhere else.

“So then what is?” Hiragi took a sip of his coffee.

“I don’t really know how I do it,” The tips of Kaji’s ears turned crimson, as he fought the urge to pull his headphones up over his head, “She just sorta– does.”

“Why not try asking what she likes?”

“She wants him to be more assertive in the bedroom.” Kaji replied bluntly, “To make her cum more than once— to take control.”

“She wants you to dominate her?” Hiragi sounded the words on his tongue with a raised brow.

“Yeah.” He nods, “But she doesn’t listen.”

Hiragi shook his head as he took a sip of his coffee, of course Kaji would find himself a brat to tame.

“I didn’t think you of all people would have a problem with being ‘too nice’, Kaji.”

“Yeah, well she seems to think I am.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“I mean, have you talked to her about this?” Hiragi almost choked on the warm liquid as it poured down his throat, cheeks dusted pink.

“No, but—”

“So maybe that should be your first step,” Hiragi smiled, “Communication is key to a solid relationship.”

“Communication isn’t the problem.” Kaji shook his head, tugging a sucker out from his jeans pocket as he felt the annoyance begin to build inside him, “It’s difficult trying to keep control when I don’t want to lose my cool.”

“But you managed that well when you were in Bofurin,” Hiragi smiled, “Call it transferable skills.”

“Nah, you don’t get it—” Kaji deadpanned, “She makes it difficult to think.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“You know everything Hiragi,” He continued to talk, palms slayed flat against the table as his glass of water with a straw lay untouched, “You’re the only person I trust enough to help with this.”

“Okay, fine.” He sighed, leaning back in his chair, “I’ll help you.”

Admittedly, Hiragi would do a lot of things for Kaji whenever he needed his help, but he would never have expected to be aiding him with something like this.

And what made it even worse was the fact that Hiragi hadn’t counted on you looking quite so perfect beneath him. Sprawled out against Kaji’s comforter, head propped up on plush pillows as you obediently waited for his instruction. The compliance alone had his cock twitching uncomfortably against his pelvis, desperate to be freed as you stared at both men with pleading eyes. Completely naked in front of their hungry gazes while Kaji sat beside you in just his boxers and Hiragi had barely taken his jacket and band shirt off.

“Are you going to touch me too, Hiragi-sama?” You teased with the honorific as Hiragi tried to silence the groan that rumbled deep in his chest.

Now he understood why Kaji had a hard time saying no to you, why he found it difficult to think when he was with you like this; because Hiragi suddenly wanted to give you everything too.

“You’ll be lucky to get anything with that attitude.” Hiragi scoffed.

“What attitude?” You gave him an innocent smile with a tilt of your head that served to hide your true intentions.

“The attitude that you’re gonna have fucked outta’ ya.” He gave you a warning look before tearing his attention from you to look back at Kaji, who was currently stroking his palm along your bare thigh.

“Be nice,” Kaji furrowed his brows at you as your sultry eyes widened— the picture of faux chastity, and Hiragi wasn’t even sure whether the demand was for him or you.

“You don’t have to give in and do whatever she wants right away.” He tried to keep methodical about everything, his matter-of-fact tone had Kaji nodding with his jaw locked as he soaked up every piece of information like a sponge. Steel-blue eyes followed Hiragi’s hands as they smoothed a path along your bare legs, dipping his thumbs into the apex of your thighs as he felt the silky fabric of your panties with a dark groan.

“Sometimes it isn’t about the act itself, but the build-up.” Hiragi grinned as you tried to roll your hips into his touch, causing his thumb to press against the crotch of your panties as he heard the saccharine tone of your breath hitching in your throat, “If you give her what she wants right away, there will be nothing else to lead to.”

Kaji nodded as he watched his Senpai touch you so methodically, pressing the flat of his palm against your pelvis to stop you from grinding into him. It’s different watching you at the mercy of another, somewhat like a fever dream as he follows Hiragi’s movements. Trying to commit each sigh, gasp and whine to memory as his cock stirs beneath his boxers. The tip oozes pre as it sticks to the fabric, adjusting himself to give that slight relief as he tries to keep his focus.

“You can try touching her anywhere but where she needs it most,” Hiragi smiled as he reached up to palm one of your round breasts, catching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he tugged softly. Pulling more pretty sounds from your throat as you wiggled your hips enticingly.

“I thought you were gonna be nice, ‘Ragi.” You grumble.

“You thought wrong huh, sweetheart?” Hiragi scoffed, trying to hide the smile that threatened to beam across his cheeks as he shook his head, “Kaji might be nice to you, but I definitely ain’t nice.”

“Kaji’s always nice to me.” You huff, shooting him a look.

“And maybe that’s the problem,” He continued, his palm splayed flat against your pelvis as he watched you away your hips to try and gain contact where you needed it most, “Maybe Kaji needs to be a little meaner too.”

Hiragi found it hilarious that his friend had such a hard time being mean to you, when he was the complete opposite around his friends and classmates. Always ready to show the grumpy side of him that was a little rough around the edges, while saving up his sweetness for you like candy.

“Please, Ren.” You whined, canting your hips to try and give your neglected clit some much-needed friction as Hiragi’s body prevented you from rubbing your thighs together, “Need to cum.”

The dark patch against the sheer lace of your panties would’ve been enough to have Kaji surrendering himself, giving you exactly what you wanted. But Hiragi held restraint, your shameless pleas falling on deaf ears as he continued to tug and tease your perky nipples.

You gave another desperate cry. A sound that would usually always work on Kaji, but Hiragi saw right through it. His face was firm as he ignored the sound you made, even though it had his cock throbbing beneath his jeans. Pressing the heel of his palm against his thick girth beneath the thick denim to try and ease the tension that was building rapidly between his thighs, the restrictive fabric has his cock pulsing and desperate for some sort of relief.

“Tell her no.” He replied bluntly, and it had Kaji’s heart beating hard and fast inside his chest.

“Ren never says no to me.” You sassed back, sticking your tongue out childishly as it made Hiragi want nothing more than to bend you over his knee.

“Not this time, sweetheart.” Hiragi shook his head, leaning forward to pinch your tongue between his thumb and forefinger as you took the opportunity to curl it around his index finger, the subtle movement almost had him waving the white flag as he indulged in you. Watching your glossy lips wrap around his digit as he pictured how they’d look wrapped around his cock, leaving him throbbing beneath his pants as he pulled his finger away, dragging down on your bottom lip as he shook his head.

“Tell her that it isn’t that easy to get what she wants,” Hiragi smirked when your lips curled into a pout, turning his attention back to Kaji, “She needs to work for it.”

Hiragi was being mean. You thought to yourself as you slid your fingers along your tummy, following the curve of your body towards your parted thighs to satisfy yourself as a warmth bloomed in your core.

“Is she always this disobedient?” Hiragi catches your wrist in a large palm before your fingers make it to their destination, struggling against his rough grip was futile as he easily overpowered you.

“Get off me.” You whined pathetically as you tried to tug your wrist away.

“She listens sometimes.” Kaji watched closely as the corner of his lips curled up in amusement at the way his Senpai handled you.

“Naughty girls need to be put back in their place.” Hiragi chastised you, squeezing your wrist as his thumb pressed into your pulse point. He manhandles you as though you weigh nothing, placing you on your hands and knees as he bends you over. Landing a harsh smack against your ass that has your body jolting forward as you moan loud in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“Let her suck your cock, Kaji.” Hiragi commands, “If she does a good enough job we’ll let her sit on it.”

You wiggled your hips, receiving another harsh spank from Hiragi as Kaji stood by the bed. Letting his jeans and boxers drop around his ankles as he stepped out of them, allowing his long cock to hang free.

Reaching out with slender fingers when Kaji stepped close enough, wrapping your hand around the base of him before pressing a languid kiss to the leaky tip. Your tongue swiped at his slit to taste him as he held the back of your head carefully, tilting you up as you wrapped your lips around the swollen head to suck gently.

“Fuck.” Kaji groaned, half-lidded eyes staring down at you while you took more of his heady cock inside your eager mouth. Deliberately pushing yourself forward as the flat of your tongue smoothed along its underside, pressing against the prominent veins that forked towards his base as your moans vibrated around him.

“How’s she doing, Kaji?” Hiragi asked as he smoothed a warm palm over the cheek he’d just spanked, “Is she bein’ good?”

“Ugh,” He grunted, “Yeah. So good.”

You preened at his praise, coaxing him deeper inside your mouth as you hollowed your cheeks to suck hard. His blunt nails dragged against your scalp as he tightened his grip on your hair, holding you steady as he thrust his hips forward roughly. The sudden motion had his swollen tip breaching the curve of your throat, cutting off your oxygen as you began to gag and splutter around him.

“You’re so good,” Kaji groaned, allowing you to pull back for a moments respite as strings of your spit and his pre clung to your lips and pearly tears clung to your thick lashes– you looked royally fucked already. And the sight of you had Kaji’s cock twitching as he wrapped his palm around his base to try and stave his climax. His heavy balls were ready to spill their spend into your eager hole, but he didn’t want to cum just yet–

“You’re okay, sweetheart,” Hiragi followed the curve of your spine as he pressed a kiss to your sacrum, “Doin’ such a good job, Kaji just got a little carried away, yeah?”

You nodded, wetting your lips to taste him on your tongue as you moved to take him back between your lips. You could tell Kaji was more confident this time, more assertive as he stopped you from taking him back into your mouth. Holding your head with his calloused palms as he tilted you up to him, his throat bobbing before he hunched over to spit inside your open mouth. Feeling the warm liquid hit your tongue as it pooled at the back of your throat as Kaji moved to push his cock back inside you immediately after.

He set a deliberate pace, giving slow precise thrusts inside your eager mouth. Holding the back of your head steady as you felt his tip hit the back of your throat again, mixing your spit as you encouraged him this time, holding onto the backs of his thighs to urge him closer as he began to fuck your throat. You forced back the desire to gag as you began to breathe through your nose, teary eyes looking up at him as his Adam’s apple bobbed against the column of his neck. A mixture of drool cascading down your chin and onto the sheets beneath you as you tried to take in as much of him as you could.

You gasped when you felt Hiragi’s hand come down on the curve of your ass again, creating tiny jolts of electricity against your skin on impact as the skin began to darken under his ministrations. The movement allowed Kaji to force his cock even deeper, as he began to cant his hips with purpose, using you for his own pleasure as he fucked your throat.

Your nails left pretty red lines against his skin as you held onto his thighs, making no attempt to pull him away as you let him use you, and you indulged in it. Hearing Hiragi chuckle behind you as he continued to tease your clothed heat, running the tips of his fingers along the seam of your panties, dangerously close to dipping beneath the fabric.

“What do you think, Kaji—” Hiragi smirked, his warm palms stroking along the curve of your ass as he watched the way your panties disappeared between your slit, your folds peeking out on either side of the fabric as he couldn’t resist leaning forward to pinch your chubby pussy together between his thumb and forefinger, “Do you think she deserves to cum?”

“Yeah,” Kaji nodded, his mind clouded in a hazy bliss.

You whined in approval, trying to nod your head as Kaji continued to ease his hips against your face. Pushing the tip of his cock against the back of your throat before pulling back languidly.

“I think he’d agree to anything when you’ve got his dick down your throat though, sweet girl,” Hiragi smirked, pressing a kiss to the curve of your hip as he pressed a thumb against your clothed clit. Instantly causing you to jolt against him before chasing the sensation, desperate for more, “I bet this pussy’s even worse, hm? She could get him to do whatever you want–”

You mewled around Kaji’s length, pulling back to kiss the engorged tip as you looked up at your boyfriend expectantly, your lips wrapped around the slit to taste more of the pearlescent pre that gathered at the slit.

Hiragi dragged a knuckle through your clothed heat before tugging your panties to the side. He had to lock his jaw to stop the debauched grunt that echoed at the back of his throat from the sight of your bare cunt. Strings of your slick clung to your folds and glistened in the low light of the bedroom as he found his tongue poking out to instinctively lick his bottom lip, “But if Kaji thinks you deserve his cock, then we better listen to him hm?”

You gasped when Hiragi pressed two fingers into your ill-prepped hole, wet enough to take them with little resistance as he began to curl them towards the spongy spot inside you. Blunt nails dragged against your velvety walls with each flick of his wrist as he began to work them inside you with unbridled practice. It had you wondering how many women Hiragi had been with to know exactly what made your body tick, his experience spoke volumes in the way he moved and his actions. A complete contrast to Kaji who was still trying to learn how your body worked, and what you liked best.

“See what happens when you’re a good girl, sweetheart?” Hiragi cooed, reaching his calloused thumb down to press gentle circles against your puffy clit that had you shamelessly rolling your hips in tandem with his movements, focused on your own pleasure as you continued to tease the tip of Kaji’s cock.

You really were perfect.

“I know Kaji thinks you deserve to cum, but I’m not so sure.” Hiragi pulled his fingers out of your quivering hole as you whined from loss of contact, trying to coax him back in with a shameless twerk of your ass that only served to earn you another smack as Hiragi pulled your body upright with the back of your hair.

“Get on the bed, Kaji,” Hiragi spoke darkly, “This pretty girl is gonna earn her orgasm, aren’t you?”

Kaji moved to settle on the sheets beneath you, laying back on the mattress as Hiragi moved you to straddle his lean hips. Situating himself between Kaji’s spread thighs as he held you above his hips.

“He’s being so mean, Ren,” You practically sniffled, “I just wanna cum.”

“Behave.” Kaji growled and the dark lilt to his tone had your clit throbbing with desire.

You chanced sliding a hand down your pelvis as you teased the top of your mound, barely able to brush two of your fingers against your sensitive clit before Hiragi caught you again, holding your wrists behind your back as he forced your back to arch. Pressing your breasts out towards Kaji in an erotic display as he pressed his lips against the shell of your ear, “What did I tell you? Stop being disobedient.”

You dramatically choked back a sob, trying in vain to pout your lips the way you knew Kaji liked. The subtle jut of your bottom lip that had every ounce of his resolve crumbling as he caved to give you whatever you pleased– but this wouldn’t work on Hiragi.

“If you ever want any hope of fuckin’ the brat out of her, you better listen Kaji.” He growled, reaching around with his other hand to smack one of your breasts as it bounced from the assault, causing more jolts of pain to prickle against your skin.

“Make her ride you.” Hiragi continued, “Make her work for that orgasm.”

Kaji’s hands were rough as he held onto your side, fingers dipping into the fat of your hips as his other hand moved to fist his cock. Holding himself upright as he smoothed the leaky tip through your messy folds, feeling it catch against your tight hole as he began to push you down.

The stretch was instant as you felt him breach your tight hole, barely able to roll your hips in retaliation as he watched mystified as you sunk down on him inch by inch.

“Take it,” Kaji grunted, “Take it all.” And his words had your clit tingling in response as your walls greedily clamped down around him. Impatience was quick to creep up on you, as you practically forced yourself down on the final few inches. Bottoming out with a desperate cry as the neatly trimmed hairs at the base of his cock tickled your sensitive nub.

“She always this good at takin’ cock?” Hiragi grinned at his best friend over your shoulder, spanking your ass with glee.

“She always takes me so well.” Kaji groaned when you began to roll your hips on top of him, barely lifting yourself as you focused on the slightest friction against your needy clit. You rode him selfishly, seeking your own pleasure as you kept your movements soft and languid, feeling his cock stretching you open as he managed to drag against your inner walls with every movement.

Hiragi kept your wrists tight behind your back in one large palm as he moved the other up to wrap around the column of your throat, forcing your head back onto his shoulder as he squeezed your jugular. Restricting your airflow as you exhaled softly, lashes fluttering as your cunt mimicked your actions, squeezing Kaji’s cock as he grunted beneath you.

“I think you like being treated like this, don’t you pretty girl?” Hiragi’s sharp teeth nipped your earlobe as he tightened his grip, “You like being treated like a slut.”

Kaji’s eyes widened in surprise at the name, as your cunt spasmed in favour of it. Pulling a desperate groan from the back of his throat as Hiragi used his grip on your neck to set a rough pace. Forcing you down on his best friend's cock before lifting you, feeling his blunt cockhead bruise your cervix with each downward drop.

It was too much, and not enough at the same time as you were unable to subdue the needy sounds that spilled from your lips. Crying out in pleasure as Kaji’s cock battered your insides from the ferocity of your movements, his hands certain to leave bruises against your hips as he helped to force you down on his cock. The motion had your tits bouncing with each rough movement as you cried out in pleasure.

“I was right,” Hiragi chuckled, nuzzling your cheek, “It looks like she just needed to be treated like the slut she is.”

Your walls spasmed again at the crude tone of his voice as your head lulled forward, your chin pressed against the top of Hiragi’s hand as he pressed a kiss to the back of your shoulder.

“You like being called that?” Kaji tilted his head slightly, watchful eyes trying to gauge your reaction as though the way your cunt clenched around him in response wasn’t answer enough, “You want me to call you a slut?”

“Can you feel how much she liked it, Kaji?” He pressed, “Did you feel her little pussy squeeze your cock?”

You whined at the debauched tone of his voice, feeling Kaji begin to increase his pace as he fucked up into you with more force as Hiragi’s hand slipped from your neck to venture lower. Calloused digits reached around your body to rub at your clit, the tips of his fingers brushing the base of Kaji’s cock as both of you moaned in tandem.

“I’m gonna cum,” Kaji grunted as he felt the way your walls closed in on him in the telltale tremors of your own bliss, eagerly trying to milk him of his release.

“You’re gonna cum too, aren’t you?” Hiragi cooed at you, “Gonna cum all over his cock.”

You cried out, feeling the coil inside you dangerously close to breaking as Kaji tightened his grip on your hips, using his grip to add more force to his movements as he fucked up into you with renewed vigour. The force and intensity behind his thrusts, paired with the way that Hiragi’s fingers kept swishing your clit from side to side was enough to have you coming undone as you met your end, crying out Kaji’s name as the coil inside you snapped and you convulsed around his cock. Your greedy walls pulsed as they tried to milk his heavy balls of all they had to give.

“Good girl.” Kaji praised with a grunt as he found his own end, his cock throbbing as he came inside you with a grunt. Spilling his warm spunk into your eager hole as he filled you to the brim, pushing it deeper as he gave a few more lazy thrusts as you continued to clench around him in the aftershocks of your release.

Kaji’s praise had you preening, as Hiragi let go of your boneless arms to let you fall down onto Kaji’s chest. Immediately pressing a messy kiss to his lips as your sweat-soaked chests stuck together, his warm palms cupping your cheeks as his cock began to soften inside you. Feeling his spend begin to trickle out from either side of your quivering walls as it dripped down his balls and onto the sheets beneath you.

“Do you mind if I fuck her, Kaji?” Hiragi groaned, tugging his pants down just enough to free his aching cock as he gave himself an overdue tug. Groaning when his fist neared the top and he pushed a thick glob of pre-cum from the swollen tip, completely amped up.

It had your tummy doing somersaults at the fact that Hiragi hadn’t asked you, he’d asked your boyfriend. Your greedy cunt clenched around nothing as Kaji’s soft cock slipped from your abused hole.

“You don’t mind, do you, sweet girl?” He cooed, “Not when Kaji already made you cum nice and hard, yeah?”

You suddenly felt shy when Hiragi’s hand reached out to spread your ass apart, leaning back on his knees to look at your ruined hole as he watched Kaji’s cum continue to leak out of you. His cock pulsed with need as he imagined filling you up even more with his seed, kneading the mixture inside you to fuck it even deeper inside your pliant walls.

“You can fuck me, Hiragi.” You cooed so sweetly that it had Hiragi swearing beneath his breath. If you said his name like that, even he’d seem like a flustered virgin.

“‘Atta girl.” He grinned, sharp teeth gleaming as he moved into position behind you. Your body flat against Kaji’s as his slick cock nestled between the pair of you, delighting in the pressure as you felt Hiragi position himself at your fluttering hole.

He was thicker than Kaji, and the intrusion had you crying out in a mixture of pain and pleasure as his heavy balls pressed against your overstimulated clit. Giving you a cherished moment of respite before he began to fuck into you with veer. The crude sounds your cunt made as Hiragi used you for his own pleasure echoed around Kaji’s bedroom, as he fucked his load deeper into you, prodding it against your cervix as Hiragi let his thoughts begin to wonder.

It had been foolish of him really, a mistake he’d never made before. Blaming it entirely on the head between his thighs over the head on his shoulders as he remembered that he hadn’t even asked if you were on birth control. It was completely unlike him, and a sign of the fool that sex could make him into– but the thought alone had his mind racing as he began to think about how pretty you’d look stuffed full with his and Kaji’s spend– breeding your fertile womb with his ripe and potent cum. The thought had Hiragi even rougher, his hands fisting the sheets on either side of you as he curled his body over yours.

You could do nothing in this position but lay there and take it as Hiragi continued to use you for his own pleasure, Kaji’s fingers slipping between your bodies to twist and tug at your sensitive nipples as you felt his half-hard cock pressed against your clit where your bodies were pressed together, grinding against each other with each rough snap of Hiragi’s hips into your messy cunt.

You could feel Kaji getting hard beneath you again, the press of him against your tummy as you shimmied your hips to ensure he was snug against your clit. His steely eyes stared at you intently as he watched your face contort in pleasure at the hands of his best friend.

“Feels so good.” You managed to get out between whiny moans, your eyes rolling back when Hiragi hit a particular spot deep inside you as you buried your face in Kaji’s neck.

“Yeah?” Hiragi smirked, “You like that, huh? Like Kaji watching you get fucked.”

His words stroked the heat that continued to burn like wildfire inside you, flowing through your veins as he had you racing towards another mind-numbing orgasm. Kaji slid his clammy hands down your sides to rest against the top of your thighs, his blunt nails digging into the skin as he used his grip to force you back harder against Hiragi’s cock.

“You like me watching you get fucked like a slut?” Kaji tested the words on his tongue as you responded with a depraved whine that had his cock pulsing with desire, “Shit—”

“She clenched so hard when you said that, Kaji. God, she’s got such a good pussy,” Hiragi rasped, trying to dictate the pleasure that swirled in his pelvis as he danced on the edge of his release, “I’ve gotta pull out.”

“No,” You whined against Kaji’s neck as your lips curled into a pout, clamping down around his cock in a feeble attempt to keep him balls deep as he fucked into you.

“I’m not– condom.” Hiragi cursed at how pathetic and pussy-drunk you’d made him when he’d barely even done anything. The power of slipping inside a warm, wet hole without that thin latex barrier, he supposed.

“She’s on birth control,” Kaji answered, his grip bruising as he kept you fucking back onto his cock.

“Cum inside me please, Hiragi.” You pleaded, and it was enough to have him fighting back the desire to spill every drop of cum in his heavy balls inside your eager walls.

“You gotta give me one more first, sweetheart.” He grinned, “I know you’re close– can feel you clampin’ down around me.”

“I can’t,” You warbled, “S’too much.”

“Yeah, you can.” He grunted, smoothing his thumb over the puckered hole of your asshole before palming one of your ass cheeks to spread you open and increase the pressure, “Be a good girl and cum.”

You couldn’t hold back as you felt another release surge through you in harsh waves, squealing into the curve of Kaji’s neck as you drooled from the intensity of it. Your lower half jerked roughly as your toes curled, and both men continued to move your body against them to help you ride out your release.

“Oh fuck,” Hiragi groaned as he adjusted his hips, deliberately focusing his thrusts hard and deep inside you as he finally met his end. Pushing hot ropes of cum directly against your battered cervix as he filled you with his spend, mixing with Kaji’s as you felt the warmth consume you whole.

Kaji wasn’t far behind, as he unabashedly used your body for his pleasure, grinding you down against his heavy cock as he felt himself cum hard. Huge rivulets of cum spurted in thick globs from his tip and pooled against his chest as he fucked himself through it, coaxing out every last drop as you felt the wetness of it stick to your skin.

“Are you gonna stay, ‘Ragi?” You murmured sleepily as Kaji rolled you onto your back gently. Accepting the towel that Hiragi had offered to him to help clean up the mess both men had made of you. Swiping it along your tummy before delicately tracing it between your thighs, muttering out soft apologies when he was too rough with your overstimulated folds.

“I should leave you guys to it,” He grinned, tugging his black band shirt back on after buckling his belt, “Although, you can call me if you ever need help with anything again,”

He leaned over the mattress as he clasped Kaji’s shoulder in a warm palm, leaning over his best friend to press a lingering kiss against your bent knee before he let his fingers trail through your folds towards the swell of your ass.

“I was actually gonna ask if you’d ever used this hole before.” He grinned, “Maybe we can try that next time.”

[thus-spoke-lo]

Let Me Help // Sanji x afab!reader // NSFW/18+ Kink: Voyeurism

CW: afab!reader [no pronouns used to address reader]; non-consensual voyeurism; masturbation [m]; handjob WC: 2.8k // Kinktober Masterlist

You stand on tiptoes, back arched and tongue tucked between your lips, trying to keep from toppling forward as you struggle to pin another pillowcase to the clothesline, silently cursing whoever strung the line so damned high. A warm breeze gently flutters the fabric, and a gentle wave crashes against the boat—just enough to disrupt your balance, and you tumble back onto your heels, arms outstretched to steady yourself. A quick glance up at the clothesline confirms that everything is still in its place, and you sigh—you’re less concerned about falling on your ass and more concerned with not having to start all over with that damned pillowcase.

“Finally,” you mutter, shoving your hands in your pockets, enjoying the feel of the afternoon sun on your skin. “And now—we start all over.”

You indulge in a quick stretch, your fingers reaching for the cerulean sky, before picking up the empty clothes basket and setting off to gather the rest of the laundry. The hamper digs into your hip as you meander through the ship, collecting errant cloths from the kitchen, grease-stained rags from the engine room, damp towels from the bin that overflowed in the bathroom. Laundry was never your favorite chore, but your generous offer to stay behind and catch up on the washing resulted in a rare afternoon by yourself aboard the ship, allowing you some needed space to roam and be with your thoughts while the rest of the crew went ashore to restock supplies. Time alone was a privilege, one which you were grateful to have been granted this afternoon.

At least, you had assumed you were alone.

You approach the men’s quarters to collect the week’s dirty socks and sweat-drenched shirts, when you stop in your tracks—the door is ajar, barely a crack, offering only a sliver of visibility. A low creaking noise comes from inside, accompanied by muffled grunts and soft whines, rhythmic sounds that you quickly recognize as anything but chaste. You inhale slowly and deeply through your nose, your hands shaking as you set the laundry basket down as carefully as possible beside you, trying not to make a sound. Whoever it is behind that door seems to be under the same impression you had been—that the ship is otherwise unoccupied.

“Fuck.” The word tumbles out of you, almost noiselessly, as you still your breathing, closing your eyes to focus on the lewd noises from behind the door—the squeaking of the bedframe, the rustling of fabric, the guttural groans of someone lost in their own pleasure. It’s obscene, the way you find yourself frozen in place, unable to tear yourself away and get back to your chores; you know you shouldn’t be here, your body leaning towards the crack in the door, straining to hear every soft panting breath, your tongue tucked between your lips in concentration, yet the lure of perversion is far too great to ignore.

And that’s when you hear it: your name being said in between quiet whimpers, in a voice that unmistakably and unequivocally belongs to Sanji. A flame kindles in your core, stoked hotter with every gasping utterance of your name and the way he says it like a desperate plea, a depraved wish for you to be there in his bed with him. It comes as no surprise to hear Sanji panting your name as he pleasures himself, given the way he fawns all over you, the way his fingers gently brush your hand as he hands you your morning tea, how he always has a reason to be pressed against you somehow, his body warm and wanting. But you hadn’t expected to ever hear his desires laid out in front of you as raw and as wantonly as this—and it’s making you insatiable, wondering why you denied for so long that a liaison with the cook might be a satisfying endeavor.

The sound of your own guilty heartbeat rushes through your ears, almost drowning out his panting breaths for a moment, and your fingertips tingle as you do the unthinkable, acting out of some impulsive, aching need: you carefully pry the door open just a little more, just enough for you to peer inside and put an image to the vulgar noises coming from within. Just a glimpse would be enough, you quietly lie to yourself—just a quick glance at how Sanji must look when he’s in the throes of his own self-pleasure would be enough to satiate you, enough to give you something to play over and over again in your mind later in the privacy of your quarters.

The door complains slightly as you nudge it ajar it just a bit more, and you wince; luckily, Sanji is far too preoccupied to even notice the door shifting open, or the corrupt crewmate lurking just outside. He kneels on the bed, his pants pooled around his knees, shoes still on, one hand holding his shirt up and away from his slim waist, only the hint of his abs and a faint trail of blonde hair leading down from his navel visible. He’s thrusting rhythmically into a pillow in front of him—folded in half, as if to mimic a bent-over body, your bent-over body if his utterances were to be believed. He looks needy, even desperate, as he ruts against the cushion, his eyes clenched shut, sweat beading at his temples.

“You like that, sweetheart? Like the way my cock feels, huh?” he murmurs, his thrusting slowing to languid strokes, subtle rolls of his hips, as if he’s teasing the version of you that he imagines before him. “Mm, so needy. Let me take it slow for you, lovely. I know you want to feel every inch.”

You quickly clamp your hands over your mouth, choking back a wanton moan as you watch his hips gyrating, thighs tensing, abs flexing as he makes slow, deliberate thrusts. You feel yourself pulsing the longer you watch, listening to him rambling, hearing the way he praises and compliments whatever lewd vision of you that he must be conjuring, the way he says your name like it’s the most erotic thing in the world.

“So perfect, my darling—your pussy feels so nice,” he whimpers, thrusting hard into the pillow and holding it there flush against his pelvis. “So fucking wet for me, love. Ah, you’re so soft inside—you’re like velvet around me.”

“Oh, Sanji,” you mumble under your breath, trying to keep your hands from wandering, needing to relieve the sudden and pervasive ache that blooms between your thighs. Perhaps you could approach him later—not to tell him what you witnessed, of course, but to see if he would be willing to make his fantasies come true, to have the real thing laying bare in front of him, writhing and waiting for his touch.

“Fuck, you’re taking it so well, angel.” Sanji’s thrusting grows quicker, then slows as he unfolds the pillow and lays it down on the bed. He unbuttons his shirt and loosens his tie, moving to hover above the pillow, caging it in on either side with sinewy forearms. You nearly gasp at the sight of his cock—long and slender, flushed pink with a swollen, leaking tip. It looks even more enticing than you’d pictured in your fantasies—the ones you would never, ever admit to, the ones where he’d secret away into the corner of the kitchen with you and press you against the wall, sweet words of adoration spilling from his lips while he takes you from behind.

“Mm, you look so nice like this,” he says to the pillow as he lowers his hips to meet it, gliding his cock along the fabric. You wonder if this is how he’d look on top of you—how it would be to have him pinning you to the bed, your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper with every thrust. “Bet you want me to cum for you, don’t you? You wanna take this cum so much, I know. I’m gonna let you have it all, my sweet—every last drop. You can take it, can’t you? This pretty little pussy can take all of this, can’t it?”

You chew on your tongue, trying to suppress a whimper—he’s going to cum, and he’s going to cum for you. Oh, if only he knew—if only he could see you there, pressing your thighs together to keep the flood of arousal at bay, taking in every movement, every sigh, every salacious word that falls from his lips, all so you could think about it later with your fingers deep inside you, pretending it’s him. As you lose yourself in thoughts of what his soft fingers could do, you lean a little too hard against the door, forgetting how precarious your situation is, distracted by the way his movements slow as though he’s on the precipice. Without any way to recover, any way to save yourself from the inevitable, the door swings open and you stumble into the room with a squeak and a gasp

“Shit, shit, shit!” Sanji quickly clambers off the bed, grabbing the pillow and holding it in front of his pelvis, scrambling to tug his pants back up. “I’m so sorry, my angel, I-I thought everyone was gone, I would never—”

“No, no!” you interrupt, waving your arms frantically in front of you, turning your head away from him. “I’m sorry, I was just coming to get the laundry and I heard something and—”

“Y-you heard what, my sweet?” He holds his pants at his waist, and stares at you, wide-eyed, chest heaving. “What exactly did you hear?”

“Just—just noises. That’s all.” You glance at him out of the corner of your eye to see the way his head tilts to look at you; there’s no way he’s buying your panicked fib, not unless he means to be chivalrous and allow you to escape this situation with some semblance of your dignity intact.

He takes a deep, shivering breath as he carefully approaches you, standing mere inches from you, the heat of his body seeming to radiate from him. He opens his mouth as if to speak, as if perhaps he means to reassure you, buy into your lie and ignore the way your body shudders and the way you cannot bring yourself to look at him for more than the briefest moment. You wonder if he can smell it on you—your shame, your arousal, your latent longing to know what it’s like to have that pretty pink cock buried inside you to the hilt.

“Darling,” he finally utters, the word stretching out and hanging in the air. “How long were you standing there?”

You swallow hard, your mouth dry, the words sticking in your throat. “A little while.”

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry—”

“No, Sanji, don’t be,” you quickly interject. What did you have to lose now, standing here before him, clothed in see-through lies? “I, um—I liked it. Listening to. And—and watching you.”

“You were watching?” A mix of embarrassment and unbridled lust settles in his every feature, a thin trickle of blood running down from his nose, settling in the crevice at the top of his lip. You nod, steeling yourself—the ship would only be empty for a little while longer, if there was going to be a time to surrender to your most base desires, this would be the time to do it.

“Let me help.” The words come out of you almost a whisper, sticking in your throat.

“W-what?”

“Let me help you, Sanji.”

“I—I could never, I would never ask you to do that.”

“You don’t have to ask. I’m offering.” You push his still-unbuttoned shirt aside and place your hands on his bare chest, running your fingers through the thick patch of blonde hair, silently reveling in how the steely hardness of his muscles feels under your fingers. “You want me, don’t you? I mean, it seemed like it at least.”

“Of course I do,” he mumbles, raising a hesitant hand to your face, gently brushing his long fingers against your cheek. “You know I do.”

“Then let me help you.” You run your index finger down his lean torso as he trembles, trailing down to the front of his trousers. “Please? I mean, unless you’d rather go back to your pillow.”

Sanji closes his eyes momentarily, tilting his head back and letting out a low groan. “You know I could never say no to you, angel.”

He releases the tenuous hold he has on his pants, still unzipped, and they slip down his legs, pooling at his ankles. You start to palm him through the silky fabric of his boxers, feeling him harden under your touch, his body spasming a little with every gentle movement, a moan catching in your throat at how he twitches and pulses for you. Your fingers dance lightly over the tip, tracing the outline of it, smirking at the wet spot that spreads the more you tease him; you bite your lip, feeling your own growing arousal begin to dampen your panties.

But Sanji is impatient, needing more than just the feeling of warmth through the barrier of cloth, and he quickly tugs down the waistband of his boxers and grasps your wrist, placing your hand on his throbbing cock. He holds his hand over yours, closing your fingers around his length into a delicate grip and directing your movements over his shaft, stuttering gasps leaving his lungs as he guides your strokes. He hums softly and moves your palm over the throbbing head, rutting against your hand until your palm is slick with his precum.

“You feel that, sweetheart?” he asks, grasping your cheeks in both hands and tilting your head up so you meet his hungry gaze. “That’s all for you.”

It takes everything in you not to drop to your knees and take him in your mouth, not to push him back onto the bed and straddle him, burying his aching cock inside you and chasing your own pleasure over and over until you’re both sore and spent and collapsing on one another in a sweaty heap. Instead, you press your face against his chest, listening to the way his heart thrums for you, wrapping your free hand around his waist to steady yourself. You stroke his length, slow at first, then building to a faster rhythm, as he pulses under your palm, his hips bucking in response to every pumping caress of his aching cock.

“Oh fuck, your hand is so soft,” Sanji whimpers, wrapping his long arms around you and holding you against him, his words hot in your ear, warm breath ghosting your chilled skin. “So good. Oh god, it’s so good, you feel so good, my darling.”

His breaths come in short, sharp gasps, his rambling praise and hushed words of desire suddenly silenced as his body tenses against you. He reaches an arm behind his back and grasps for your hand, holding on to you as if to ground himself, to find an anchor as he approaches the edge of his pleasure.

“Fuck. Fuck, m’gonna cum, my angel,” he rasps through quick and hallow breaths, the grip on your free hand tightening almost painfully. “Gonna cum for you.”

Sanji abandons himself to pleasure in your sweet embrace, and he groans in blissful agony, his cock pulsing with waves of pleasure, spilling himself onto the floor. He rocks his hips and thrusts into your palm over and over, low whines accompanying every spasm, every tremor of his body as he surrenders to the sweetness of your touch. You stand there with him as his movements finally cease, his grasp on your hand releasing as he wraps both arms around your again, holding you to him like something precious, like something he never wanted to let go of again.

“Thank you, my love,” he sighs, finally pulling away and placing his hands on your shoulders. The desire that burns within you grows even more intense at the sight of him in his bliss—his cheeks flushed, his eyes wide and pupils lust-blown. “I-I don’t know what I did to deserve this—but thank you.”

“Oh Sanji, if you liked that…” you trail off as you lean up and impulsively kiss him on his warm, trembling lips.  You grasp his wrist, leading his unsteady hand down to the apex of your thighs, and he stammers and gasps as you hold him there, his palm cupping your warmth. “…just wait til you feel the rest of me.”

[darkshelbyfiction]

Personal Whore (Kink Series)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Female Reader

Summary: This Series will explore different fetishes including an innocence kink, somnophilia, anal play, watersports, bdsm, marking, edging, and anything else you would like me to include!

In this series, you are Thomas Shelby's maid. You are innocent and shy. This is your first job. Thomas Shelby takes an interest in you and pays you to become his personal whore. He makes you have sex with him in exchange of money, every day, using perverse techniques to satisfy his needs.

PART ONE: ORAL SKILLS

"You have been working for me for two weeks now Love and you recently turned 18, right?" Thomas questioned and you nodded timidly, nervous about what might come next.

"I... yes sir," you whispered softly, averting your gaze slightly out of shyness. The room seemed impossibly large and dimly lit, accented only by the flickering candlelight reflecting off the pristine white sheets upon the bed.

"Very well, that means that you are of legal age for my proposition." His voice dripped honeyed promises.

"Now let me ask you, Love... Do you know what some of the other maids here do for me in order to earn some more money?" your employer asked quietly, watching you closely.

"They perform various tasks, sir," you answered hesitantly, trying not to imagine where he could be going with this conversation.

"That's right," he said before looking at you with even more intensity in his gaze. "And do you know what these tasks entail?"

He asked, leaning closer, his proximity sending waves of anxiety through your body.

"Well," you began cautiously, choosing your words carefully. "Sarah said that, occasionally, she would touch you down there," you blushed, feeling mortified at having revealed such intimate information, albeit indirectly. You noticed a flash of excitement in his eyes when mentioning sensitive areas—a sign that perhaps this wasn't all just talk?

Thomas nodded thoughtfully, his expression unreadable as he processed your response. Then he rose gracefully from his seat, moving deliberately toward you like a predator closing in on its prey. It felt odd being so close to someone with whom you had worked for almost two months without any physical contact beyond casual banter.

"She occasionally touches me, yes," replied Thomas, maintaining eye contact. "But it isn't always required – merely desired. So I wonder, my dear, how far would you go for some extra compensation?" He smirked subtly, inviting himself deeper into the territory where you were reluctant to venture.

The heat of the moment caused you to feel flustered and uncertain as you attempted to gauge the severity of Thomas' intentions. Your heart raced faster than ever before, threatening to escape your chest as sweat glistened lightly along your brow.

"You want me to touch your pe..., uhm, you know...down there..." your voice trailed off, unable to find the courage to say the word 'penis'. Thomas smiled reassuringly, appreciating your discomfort as he realized you hadn't quite grasped the extent of his proposal.

"Yes, sweetheart. I want you to touch my cock and, maybe, one day, you will even take it in to your mouth or let me put it into your pussy, eh," Thomas stated confidently while running his hand across your cheek, causing involuntary shivers to run up your spine.

Your face colored deeply with embarrassment, though it also held an undeniable hint of curiosity. While your desire to please and satisfy your newfound benefactor burned intensely, something inside you screamed that taking things further than simple caresses went too far - yet another layer of turmoil added to the complex relationship unfolding between you both.

Having sensed your inner conflict, Thomas chose to approach the subject tactically.

Slowly, tenderly brushing aside a lock of your hair, he asked: "How does that make you feel, sweetheart?" His tone betrayed no judgement or impatience, instead offering understanding and acceptance. "Do you think you can handle that sort of responsibility?"

You trembled underneath his gentle ministrations, torn between fear and arousal, struggling to process your rapidly evolving feelings towards your once strictly professional superior.

"I never even seen a man's private parts before, sir. I was saving myself for marriage, but some extra cash would sound nice too," Your statement came out as a quiet plea for guidance, a confession of ignorance that exposed your vulnerability.

"Well, for what it's worth, no one would ever find out, Love. Not even your future husband," Thomas said and there was a sinister edge to his tone.

"I know that you are a good catholic girl, but sometimes it is worth doing bad things for the right incentive, wouldn't you agree?" Thomas said before he decided to lay bare his plans for you. "So, listen very carefully. If you agree to carry out these tasks, then I promise you that I will give you double your usual wages for the duration of your employment. In addition, I will give you £500 for your virginity and loyalty. How does that strike you?"

Stunned and bewildered, you stared at him in disbelief. Double your pay for doing things you didn't understand fully and parting ways with your cherished purity – your whole world suddenly seemed to spin wildly out of control. Yet despite the magnitude of the choices facing you, one thing remained clear: continuing as your present self would lead to financial ruin.

With tears swelling in your eyes, you found yourself considering Thomas' offer, wondering whether surrendering everything you believed in truly amounted to nothing less than selling your soul. Still, it was difficult to resist the lure of instant prosperity, particularly given the dire straits you faced otherwise. As you struggled internally, Thomas watched patiently, waiting for you to decide. Finally, with a heavy heart, you made your decision.

Nodding solemnly, you declared, "Alright, Mr. Shelby, I agree, but I need you to triple my wages and add another £500 for my virtue."

With an approving smile curling at the corner of his lips, Thomas conceded, "Agreed. I will triple your wages and pay you a lump sum of £1,000 for your precious purity," your employer said before unbuckling his belt without bothering to remove the rest of his clothes.

"Understandably, you may need time to become comfortable enough to execute these duties adequately, so I shall start you off slowly," Thomas explained calmly before unzipping his pants and thereby exposing his erect member. Despite your reservations, you couldn't help but notice the size and firmness of his cock as he pushed down his pants halfway. 

"It doesn't look so scary, does it, Love?" he murmured, his voice holding an undercurrent of amusement, attempting to ease your apprehension as he reached for your hand, guiding it tentatively towards his penis. With an anxious breath, you followed his instruction, marveling at the weightiness of his organ, still unsure of exactly what he expected from you.

As your fingers traced delicate patterns over his length, you discovered small nubs on the underside, eliciting a deep groan from him. Uncertain about your progress thus far, you glanced upwards briefly to catch sight of his reaction, finding satisfaction etched upon his features.

"See, Love, we're making headway already," Thomas commented gently, encouraging you with warmth.

Despite your lingering apprehensions, the confidence exuded by your master proved infectious, allowing you to relax somewhat and follow the path laid out before you.

Inch by inch, your exploration continued until you encountered the tiny knobbiness located near the base of his organ. Upon stimulating it, Thomas' moans grew louder, confirming your suspicion that you had struck gold.

Encouraged by this success, you bravely moved onto his sacrum, discovering that a soft ticklish patch accompanied it. Smiling sheepishly, you proceeded to explore the area thoroughly. After satisfying yourself with a leisurely tour, you finally turned your attention back to the main event – his impressively throbbing phallus.

Feeling emboldened, you took hold of the tip, applying a slight pressure that resulted in a low grumble emitting from Thomas.

Taking hold of your hand again, he positioned it correctly, demonstrating proper technique. Encouraged by his expertise, you mirrored his movements and gradually increased the strength of your strokes, matching his fervent pace.

"That's it, love! Keep going!" he urged, his hands now wrapped tightly around yours before making a somewhat unusual request.

"How do you feel about taking my cock into your mouth, Love?" Thomas whispered huskily, watching your every move closely.

"You want me to do what?" you asked, still feeling uneasy about performing such acts. The mere idea sent waves of nervousness coursing through your body, prompting your limbs to quiver.

"I want you to practice sucking my cock, Love," Thomas insisted matter-of-factly, a commanding authority evident in his tone.

Swallowing hard, you hesitated for a brief moment before asking timidly, "Like a lollipop?" 

"No, not like a lollipop, Love," Thomas replied, his words filled with amused indulgence. "Just wrap your lips around the head first and start by licking off my pre-cum. Trust me, it won't be as terrible as you might imagine."

His assurance did little to alleviate your anxiety, but nonetheless, you nodded obediently.

Gingerly, you took his thick shaft into your small hands, immediately experiencing a strange mixture of revulsion and fascination.

Carefully lowering your head, you pressed your tongue to the engorged head, savoring the salty taste of his precum.

"There you go, sweetheart. Lick around the ridge just above the hole," Thomas instructed you kindly, clearly aware of how intimidated you were feeling.

"That's a good girl," he told you and, just as you obeyed his directive, your fingers simultaneously worked to stroke the entire length of his impressive manhood.

"Now take me in your mouth, sweetheart. As far as you can," Thomas commanded authoritatively, his voice full of raw demand as, with trembling fingers, you complied, opening wide to accommodate his girth.

"Beautiful," Thomas breathed, appreciating your attempt before holding onto your hair and pulling slightly to guide your mouth deeper down on his erection.

As your lips grazed the sensitive skin beneath his glans, a wave of dizziness assaulted you, leaving you gasping as you tried to regulate your breathing.

"There you have it, sweetheart, take it all," Thomas directed firmly, pressing your mouth harder against him. Gulping reflexively, you felt the foreign object filling your mouth, causing your cheeks to bulge comically.

"I will fuck your throat now," Thomas muttered roughly, thrusting himself further into your open mouth, causing you to gag involuntarily. Your eyes watered with the unexpected intensity of sensation. But even amidst the choking panic, something inside you recognized an undeniable thrill.

Thomas held you firmly in place, ensuring you maintained eye contact throughout the experience. As your struggle to maintain control intensified, so did his aggressiveness.

"Good girl," he growled approvingly when you managed to adapt quickly, albeit tears streaming down your face and saliva dripping from your chin.

His cock now nestled comfortably within your tender throat, Thomas began moving faster, building momentum. His touch became more forceful as you submitted to his demands blindly, consumed by newfound passion.

"Do you know what happens to a man when he orgasms, Love?" Thomas asked teasingly, raising an eyebrow playfully as he continued to use your mouth and throat for your pleasure. 

Confusion crossed your face, unable to discern the meaning behind his inquiry as you shook your head.

"Well, when I cum, seed will spill out from my cock right into your eager mouth," Thomas clarified casually while fondling your wet cheek. "Are you ready for that?"

Your brow furrowed, processing the implications of his statement. It dawned on you that your role as his sexual submissive required complete submission, including receiving the ultimate release from your employer.

You nodded silently, acknowledging your willingness to accept whatever fate awaited you. And as Thomas' hips started bucking violently, indicating his imminent climax, you steeled yourself, preparing for the inevitable outcome.

"Good girl. I want you to swallow my load completely," Thomas ordered, his voice rough with anticipation as he thrusted in and out of your throat. Without question, you opened wider, bracing yourself for the sudden explosion. As Thomas' hips jerked forward, releasing a torrent of hot semen directly into your gaping mouth, you could barely contain your shock. The searing liquid burned your throat, stinging fiercely, but you endured, determined to satisfy your master. Consequently, Thomas let loose a powerful roar, his muscles tensing powerfully, as his body convulsed in ecstasy.

Pulling away from your tender mouth after the volley was spent, he looked deeply into your eyes, searching for any signs of resistance or regret. Finding none, a satisfied smirk formed across his lips. "Very good indeed, Love. Now open your mouth and show me your tongue once again," commanded Thomas, placing one palm on either side of your face. Submissively, you parted your lips to expose your reddened tongue, waiting patiently for further orders. "Keep practicing, because soon you'll be giving me blowjobs regularly until, in two weeks or so, I will fuck this virgin pussy of yours," he informed you confidently, running his finger along your neck, arousal evident in his gaze.

Understanding implicitly that your services would extend beyond the confines of today's encounter, you silently accepted your fate without protest.

After all, despite the humiliation and unfamiliar experiences you underwent, there remained an inexplicable allure. Something about submitting entirely to the desires of another piqued an unidentifiable desire deep within you, stirring feelings that seemed almost forbidden. In time, perhaps these indistinct yearnings could evolve into something concrete and tangible. For now, however, you must focus solely on perfecting your skills as Thomas' personal pleasure provider and you soon learned that his requests are more than just a little unusual. 

[psychedelic-pebble]

Loud and Clear - Young!Fiddleford x Reader

as promised, some Young!Fiddleford content!! enjoy!!

Warnings: NSFW Content, Desk Sex, Dom!Fiddleford, Sub!Reader, Masturbation - MDNI.

Pairings: Young!Fiddleford x Reader

You feel filthy. It’s the god-only-knows which night in a row that you’ve snuck down to your shared lab in the middle of the night while Stanford and Fiddleford slept. You carefully sidle into the room, walking over to the coat rack and grabbing Fiddleford’s lab coat. You’re not sure why there would be, but nonetheless you check the dark area, making sure no one is around.

Taking the coat off the hanger you bring it up to your face and inhale, taking in his scent and letting out a low groan. You’ve been coming down here every night for who knows how long to do this, to satisfy the perverse thoughts that torment you about your coworker. You can’t bring it up to his face without fear of rejection, so this is the next best thing in your mind. You bring the coat over to the closest chair with you, sinking down into it and easing a hand into your sleep shorts.

God, you feel so disgusting; deplorable even, but you can’t stop for the life of you. You circle your clit, once, twice, and a whiny squeak escapes you as you clutch the article of clothing. You hold it close to your chest and bury your face in it, inhaling deeply once again and making a small moan. You pretend it’s him teasing you right now, toying with your clit and leaning over the chair. You slip a finger in and bite your lip to stifle the embarrassingly lewd noise that escapes your gritted teeth.

You don’t even hear the door opening in your haze, much less the footsteps approaching you until you hear a voice call out your name.

“Hello? Ya in here?” It’s Fiddleford’s voice. You stop dead in your tracks and freeze, trying to think of some sort of plan to escape the impending doom approaching you, but it’s too late. “I heard some noise, and…” He trails off once he sees the state you’re in - one hand in your pants and the other grasping his lab coat.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, you in horror and Fiddleford with some unintelligible expression on his face.

“Fiddleford-!” You suddenly find your words, bolting upright in the chair and yanking your hand out of your shorts. “It’s- This isn’t- I’m so sorry-!!”

He stares at you, eyes blown wide with his jaw set. He takes a minute to respond and you think you see his face getting red, although it's too dark in here to tell.

“How uh, how long ya been doin this for?” He finally manages to stammer, hands balling into nervous fists at his sides. “How many nights, I mean.”

You don’t want to answer that.

“I don’t,” you mentally berate yourself, “I haven’t exactly kept track.”

Fiddleford nods at you, glancing nervously around the room. He braves a step forward and starts approaching you, a little wobbly; he seems almost… scared?

You start to panic, shrinking back into the chair and looking at him with wide eyes. He reaches out like you’re some wild animal he’s attempting to calm down, holding his hands up.

“Settle down, it’s alright. I’m not upset.” His voice wavers, and he stops about a foot in front of you. “I, uh, geez.”

He swallows thickly, looking down at you. You stare at him like a frightened creature, trying to rationalize the situation in your head.

“I’m sorry, Fiddleford-” you start, but he cuts you off.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’d be lyin’ if I said I hadn’t thought about this once or twice too.”

You’re about to start sputtering apologies again before his words set in your head. What. The fuck. You whip your head around to look at him in shock, mouth opening and closing several times as you try to think of something to say. You can’t think of anything to respond with, so you just shut your mouth and make a frustrated noise.

Fiddleford laughs a little- albeit nervously- and smiles at you in an attempt to be reassuring.

“I’m flattered, really. I don’t think I’ve ever been sought after before.” You give him a confused look at that.

”Really?” You manage to squeak out, still nervous. “I uh, I’m surprised. You’re really sweet, and cute. I’d thought you’d have found someone by now.”

Fiddleford blushes and places a hand on the back of his neck, looking off to the side.

“Thanks,” he smiles embarrassedly, before looking back to you, “uh, just a suggestion, but if ya like, we could, um, continue where ya left off.”

You swear your soul just left your body. Have you just died and gone to heaven??

You can’t find words so you just nod, hoping he’ll get the message, but that doesn’t suffice for him.

“I need a verbal yes, sweetheart.” You can’t tell if he’s teasing or just genuinely wants to hear you.

“Yes, please.” You whimper and lean back into the chair, allowing him to lean over you. He does, placing both hands on the arm rests as he bends down to kiss you gently. It’s unsure at first - he presses his lips to yours warily, trying to get a feel for what you like.

You lean forward to eagerly kiss him back and he makes an adorable little squeak of surprise. Your hands find the front of his shirt, pulling him in and kissing him deeply.

His hands shake as he grasps the armrests of the chair, whimpering a little when you tug him forward which only spurs you on.

He’s the first to pull away, breaths heavy and labored while he tries to catch his breath. He looks at you with slightly lidded eyes, glasses ever so slightly askew.

“Wow,” he gives a loopy grin and leans back ever so slightly, “that was even better than I’d imagined.”

You flash a smirk at him. “You’ve imagined this before?”

Fiddleford’s face flushes as he realizes what he said, and he sheepishly looks away.

“I uh, s’pose I have.” He smiles nervously and averts his eyes.

Reaching out a hand and placing it on his face, you tilt his head back to you and raise your eyebrows. He follows the movement of your hand, eyes locking with yours. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth in an anxious habit and you grin.

“You don’t have to be so shy about it. If anything, I’m the one who should be embarrassed.” You follow up your words with a shrug before dropping your shoulders. “You’re the one that caught me masturbating with your lab coat.”

Fiddleford laughs quietly, hands still gripping the armrests. “I’d be a hypocrite if I judged ya for that.”

You hum in response and move your hands down to his sides, teasingly running them down to his hips. A shudder wracks his body and he makes a quiet whimper, screwing his eyes shut in embarrassment.

A chuckle escapes you; he’s too adorable for his own good. You hook your thumbs underneath the waistband of his sweatpants and his eyes shoot open, staring down at you with blown out pupils. You look up at him, raising your eyebrows.

“This ok, Fidds?” You purr and ease his sweatpants down ever so slightly, just enough to reveal his hips. His face flushes and he nods, removing a hand from the chair to push his hair back.

“Mhm, s’ okay.” He breathes, leaning back slightly to give you better access. You slip his sweatpants and boxers down just enough to free his cock and your breath hitches in your throat. He looks a bit nervous, and you lean back to remove your shorts in return.

“Here,” You shuffle awkwardly out of your shorts, standing up and letting them drop to the floor, “just follow me.” You kick them off to the side, not caring where they go, and grab Fiddleford’s hand to lead him to the nearest desk. He follows along like a lost puppy, stumbling forward and following you. You hop up onto the desk, still holding his hand, and hiss quietly at the cold feeling.

He stares at you, still gripping your hand. You guide his hand down to your bare waist and he holds it gently, his face flushing an adorable red.

“Ya sure this is alright?” His hand slides up your side, infatuated with the way you lean into his touch.

“Fidds, I wouldn’t have initiated it if it wasn’t.” You reassure him. His heart flutters at the nickname and he leans over you to press a short kiss to your lips.

“Tell me what to do.” Fiddleford mumbles, moving back up and leaning over you with one hand resting on the table and the other holding your waist.

You don’t respond for a moment, just moving your hand to his, lifting it off the table and guiding it to your exposed cunt. He lets out a hiss through gritted teeth, gently rubbing small circles against your clit.

“You… You’re so wet.” He manages to say after a moment, moving his head down to press a kiss to your collarbone.

You whimper and arch up into his touch, and he slips a finger inside. You can’t help the embarrassing noise that escapes your lungs, which only spurs him on to add a second finger. He curls them up into a sweet spot and you swear you see stars for a minute.

“Fuck, Fidds-” You curse under your breath, hands gripping the edge of the desk as he pistons his fingers in and out of you, “Please, I need you so bad..”

He draws his fingers out of you, placing both hands on your thighs and spreading them apart.

“I’m gettin’ there, sweetheart,” he mumbles, easing your thighs apart as far as comfort will allow and gently laying you back onto the desk. He wraps his arms underneath your thighs and pulls you towards him, nudging your entrance with the tip of his cock. The both of you draw a collective breath inward and he looks down at you. “Ya still alright with this?”

You nod fervently, placing both hands on his shoulders. “Mhm. Please.”

Fiddleford nervously moves both hands to your hips and sinks his cock into you, drawing a moan out of both of you. He leans forward and kisses you, muffling the noises that escape your throat. His movements are slow and deliberate; you can tell he’s trying very hard not to hurt you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and thread your fingers through his hair, running your tongue over the top row of his teeth. He shudders and lets you slip your tongue into his mouth with a low groan.

Once his cock is fully inside you, he moves one hand from your hip to cup your face. He pulls away from the kiss and looks at you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’re so pretty.” He whispers, holding the side of your face. You lean your head into his touch and he chuckles softly. “Can I move, sweetheart?”

“Mhm,” you smile to reassure him, keeping your arms wrapped around his shoulders. He nods his head and draws his hips back, dragging himself out of you before gently pushing back in. You make a high pitched moan, gripping his shoulders tightly. He groans and continues his ministrations, gently fucking into you while holding your hip with one hand and running his other hand through your hair.

“So perfect.” he mutters under his breath. “So good.”

“Fidds,” you whimper and look up at him, breathing heavily, “you can be rough with me. It’s okay.”

He swallows nervously, beginning to fuck you a bit harder. You arch your back up into him and he runs his hand up your side, lowering his head into the join between your neck and shoulder. He says something unintelligible into your skin, before you feel his teeth sink into the side of your throat and you jolt.

“Sorry.” He laughs nervously. “Couldn’t help myself.”

You shudder and whine, gripping a fistful of his hair and pulling him closer to you. He rocks his hips into yours at a steady pace, slowly becoming faster - more desperate.

You feel a little guilty about doing this on the lab desk, but the guilt is quickly overridden with pleasure. His cock grinds up into a sweet spot and you nearly scream; it’ll be a miracle if you don’t wake Stanford at this rate.

“Close,” Fiddleford mumbles into the side of your throat, “where do ya want me to..?”

You shudder and wrap your arms fully around his neck to hold him close. “Inside.” Comes your short reply, and Fiddleford’s hips stutter slightly.

“A.. Are ya sure?” He whimpers, face still buried in your shoulder.

”Mhm.” You affirm, a shaky moan escaping you as he fucks you faster. His pace becomes sloppy and desperate, hand gripping your hip so hard you think it might leave a mark. You don’t really care though.

He makes a high pitched whining sound as he reaches his high and spills inside you, filling you to the brim with sticky cum. You make a noise not unlike a shriek as you clench around him and cum, fireworks going off in your head and blurry bursts filling your vision.

It takes a while for you both to calm down. Fiddleford stills and stays close, panting into your shoulder while you try to catch your breath. Your ribs shake with every inhale, until you eventually come down from your high.

“Y’alright?” Fiddleford asks groggily, leaning up just a little to kiss your cheek. You nod.

“Yeah,” your voice is breathy and slightly hoarse, “thank you.”

“Course.” He seems to get a little nervous burying his face in your shoulder again. “Um, would ya like to stay the night with me?”

You let out a small laugh. “Fidds, you just came inside me. I’d love to.”

He smiles against your neck and hugs you close.

“Ford’s gonna be so mad at us.” Fiddleford chuckles, staying close to you.

“Oh well.” You smile and press a kiss to the top of his head. “Next time we’ll just have to take this somewhere else.”

He smiles and looks up at you with tired eyes. “Mhm. Next time.”

thanks for reading!! i hope you enjoyed <33 i also posted this on AO3 if you’d like to check it out there!!

divider creds to @cafekitsune !!

[chiaraanatra]

Intoxicating

∘₊✧────✧₊∘ ! 18+ MINORS DNI ! ∘₊✧───✧₊∘

Summary: Anakin just cant help himself.

Warnings: SMUT, dom!reader, sub!ani, mentions of male masturbation, panties (stealing, sniffing, used as gag), mild somno (kinda?[he steals your panties while your asleep]), hand job, mentions of fingering(f), overstimulation(m), orgasm control(?), scent kink(?), pet names (reader calls Ani baby, puppy & sweetheart). IDK what to tell you, Ani and reader are little perverts! No use of Y/N. (Let me know if I missed anything.)

Word Count: 1.2k

AN: Think of this as a belated May 4th gift! Apparently I think any character played by Hayden is just a panty thief. I'm not sorry. Thank you to my wonderful boyfriend for being the inspiration for this! Jay, your dirty dreams are truly an inspiration!

《 m.list || ao3 》

At what point do I just accept that sleep isn't going to happen...?

Anakin woke up next to you hard as a rock with a sheen of sweat covering his body. He wanted to just go back to sleep, he really did, but the only thought on his mind was how desperate he was to cum. How he needed to cum.

He tried to be discreet, palming himself through his boxers in an attempt to ease the harsh ache he felt while trying not to wake you. His eyes followed the streams of light coming through the curtains as they illuminated your peaceful form sleeping quietly next to him.

As if on cue, your body shifted and the sheets that once covered you now left you exposed. Anakin couldn't help but stare as the only thing covering you was a pair of cute cotton panties.

Of course, the thought crossed his mind. Maybe I could just... "Fuck..." He shook his head trying to shake the idea from his head. Little good that did.

Before he could register his movements, he slowly made his way closer to you. He didn't want to wake you just to appease his own perversions, but they were right there, squeezed against your plush hips, and he knew that your scent would send him straight over the edge.

He started to slowly ease the tight fabric off your body. He groaned when he noticed the patch of wetness left behind by your weeping pussy, the sight only causing his lust and need to grow. He continued to move the fabric over your hips, down the soft skin of your thighs, and over your pretty little legs and feet.

Finally, he had them.

Anakin wasted no time bringing the fabric to his face, inhaling deeply before moving his boxers down so he could stroke his cock.

Your scent was beyond intoxicating. No amount of alcohol or drugs could compare to the euphoria that your scent brought. Anakin could feel himself getting closer and closer, not only due to sheer sensory overload but also the perverseness of his actions.

His eyes were screwed shut feeling himself so close to reaching his peak. He was so overwhelmed that he didn't feel the bed shift under your weight as you moved. He only noticed your presence when he felt a soft hand touch his chest. His eyes shot open, a mixture of fear and embarrassment occupying his blown pupils. He was met with a devious little grin and utter delight plastered all over your face.

"You are such a little pervert. Stealing my panties to try and get yourself off..." Your voice was mocking and sultry, doing nothing to ease his embarrassment or how hard he still was. "Well... did it work?"

Anakin couldn't bring himself to meet your gaze, still embarrassed he was only able to shake his head.

"Aww, do you need help baby?" Anakin could only nod, "Let me help you."

You moved to rest your back against the headboard and spread your legs. "Lay your back against my chest." Anakin sat between your legs, strong back pressed against your chest. Your hands roamed over his skin with feather-light touches. Gods, your touch made hell seem cold.

Anakin’s breath hitched when your hand finally made its way to his dripping cock. You started slow, painfully slow.

“Faster…” His request came out more as a groan.

“What was that, Ani?” you leaned closer to his ear, “You’re not in any position to be making demands, sweetheart. A pervert like you should be thankful for what I’m willing to give.”

“I’m sorry… I-I ju- mmph!”

You cut him off, shoving your panties in his mouth, “Gods! You are making so much noise, puppy.”

At that moment, all thoughts left Anakin as he was swallowed by pleasure. Muffled moans made their way past the fabric in his mouth. Even quieted, they sounded so desperate and needy. All Anakin wanted to do was cum, he could feel himself getting so close but not able to quite get himself to fall off the edge.

You could tell he was struggling, “Aww, you're trying so hard puppy...” Your mocking tone only made his eyes roll back as his head made contact with your shoulder. “I know what will help.” He could hear the mischief in your tone. What he didn’t notice was you reaching between you, running your fingers along your slit before fingering yourself, just enough to coat your digits with your wetness, knowing that it would push him right over the edge.

You held your glistening fingers up to Anakin’s nose. You smelled divine, so intense. “Open, puppy.” He did just that allowing you to remove your panties from his mouth before replacing the fabric with your fingers.

Anakin groaned at the taste of you in his mouth, you could feel his body tense and his cock twitching. You tasted so good, so sweet. Anakin wanted more but he was distracted by the waves of pleasure that enveloped my body and the familiar feeling of pressure build up.

You continued your brutal pace, fingering Anakin’s mouth with one hand while fucking his cock with the other. Only you got to see this side of Anakin and Gods, he was never prettier than when he was falling apart in your hands.

You kissed his neck, “You wanna cum for me, puppy?”

“Mmhmm” Anakin tried to reply, before giving you a small nod as he continued to run his tongue along your delicate fingers with fervent desperation.

You pressed one more kiss to his neck, “Cum.” As your simple command left your lips, you bit down hard on the juncture between Anakin’s neck and shoulder.

Anakin’s body tensed as his orgasm washed over him like a tidal wave, his cum spilling over your hand. You removed the hand that was in his mouth moving it to wrap partially around his throat. You angled him so you could continue to leave open mouth kisses and bites along his neck and shoulder.

The pace of the hand still on his cock slowed but you weren’t ready to stop yet, despite the soft protests that left Ani’s lips. “I can’t, I-I can't… Please I can't…” You two had a safe word for a reason, if he really wanted you to stop he would tell you. Till that word was spoken, You couldn’t help but overstimulate him just a little. Anything to hear those pretty little whimpers pass his beautiful lips.

Your torture came to an end eventually, much to Anakin’s dismay, though he would never admit it.

Anakin shifted his position so that you were no longer behind him. He watched as you moved off the bed to stand in front of him. “You did so good for me puppy,” his heart skipped at your praise and the smile that graced your features. “Why don’t we get cleaned up and get some more sleep?”

Before you could completely move away from him, Anakin gently grabbed your wrist. You looked back in confusion and worry, “What’s wrong Ani? Did I push you too hard?”

He shook his head, flushed cheeks and fucked out expression still present on his face. “Can… Can I have a kiss... Please?”

“Oh, of course, baby.” You leaned down pressing your lips against his. The kiss was soft and gentle with lips moving slowly in tandem with one another. You were the one to break the kiss, knowing Anakin would be content to kiss you like that for the next ten lifetimes at the very least. “Let’s get cleaned up and when we're back in bed, I’ll kiss every inch of that handsome face of yours.”

As always, feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

Taglist: @bimbo-baggins86 @daisydark @espinathena-17 @Ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist

𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑? 𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 💜

[happilyhertale]

Sinful desires – Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader x Aemond Targaryen

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader x Aemond Targaryen

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, threesome

Author’s note:

Just pure smut without much of a story. A little adventure with Daemon and Aemond in the throne room. English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 3k

Other stories of mine

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

He gazes deeply into your purple eyes, whose hue is a captivating reflection of your inner thoughts. As your eyes meet in a tense exchange, a poignant silence surrounds you both. Amidst the swirling elegance of the noble gathering, where lords and ladies dance to the enchanting strains of music, they remain unaware of what is happening between the two of you.

With an unexpected but gentle touch, he grasps your arm and elicits a soft breath from your lips. His desire for your response is palpable and hangs in the air like an unspoken request.

"I want you, y/n. You know you want me too, don't lie to me. This is what Targaryens do. This is what we're meant for," he grumbles in your ear.

Daemon pulls your face closer to his, your lips almost meet, you feel his warm breath.

"We are meant to do this. We are fire and blood. The old gods wanted the Targaryens to take what we want, and I will take that..." you hear him murmur.

And suddenly his teeth meet your lip, he bites your lower lip. You feel how passionate and insistent he is. You whimper slightly. He is rougher than Aemond and you feel it having a direct effect on you.

Suddenly you feel a nervousness that you should leave the hall before something happens that no one else should see.

"We should go..." you whisper a little breathlessly. But Daemon just looks at you, with a grin on his lips.

"Oh, we should, but maybe I'd rather stay here...", he murmurs, looking you in the eyes. His hands are barely visible running up and down your body. Like they have a mind of their own, a mind that wants and needs to touch and caress you.

"I could take you right here at this table," he whispers, barely noticeably pointing to the table near you, "if I wanted to... with our family around us. What would Aemond say to that if he saw his uncle taking his wife?" he continues in a whisper, a smirk forming on his lips again. You look a little shocked.

He wouldn't do that… would he?

"He would be furious, Uncle..." you finally whisper.

He chuckles, "You're a naughty girl, aren't you? And I bet you'd like it if Aemond saw us, wouldn't you?" he whispers.

You bite your lower lip, your breathing getting a little heavier.

"If Aemond could see you now, with your uncle's hands on you... what do you think he'd think of that?"

Again you can't stop a whimper.

"Aemond would... Maybe he'd even like it..." you whisper to him.

This remark causes Daemon to chuckle, for your words seem rather ironic that evening.

"Well, we're both Targaryens. A few perversions are in our nature, aren't they? So... it's not so far off that he could possibly like it," he murmurs.

Almost gently, he brushes a strand of silver hair from your face.

"I know a place better suited for... perversions. We can show each other what a Targaryen can really do..."

You gasp slightly, looking into his eyes. The smirk doesn't leave his lips. How you would love to touch those lips....

"Let's go to the throne room..." you suddenly say, a little startled by your words.

His grin widens, his teeth show.

"The throne room?" he asks, "This could be seen as treason..." he whispers.

You bite your lip again, "Then we shouldn't get caught," you whisper.

Almost suddenly, Daemon grabs your hand and pulls you with him. You leave the ballroom and walk down the corridors.

His other hand slowly explores your body on the way to the throne room. You feel his fingers gliding over your bottom, gently grabbing your buttocks. You blush slightly, but you feel the desire growing inside you. Daemon notices your blush as you come to a stop in front of the throne room. Gently he leans down and kisses your neck softly as he opens the door to the throne room.

"Nervous?" His voice, a low whisper, reaches your ears, but you answer only with a slight, determined shake of your head. You gather all your courage and stride resolutely into the throne room as Daemon holds the door open for you.

You exhale softly as you take in the sight of the empty room. Behind you, Daemon moves, his long strides matching the tension of the moment. At the foot of the stairs leading to the iron throne itself, you stop. But Daemon does not hesitate long and almost with a supernatural ease he climbs up and takes his rightful place.

As his steely gaze is fixed on you, a confident smile dances across his lips. His long silver hair falls over his shoulders, catching the ethereal moonlight that falls through the window behind him. The room seems to hold its breath, entranced by his presence.

With a silent gesture, Daemon extends his hand, an unspoken invitation for you to come closer. Your heart beats faster as you nibble on your lower lip. But you climb each step, guided by the desire of the forbidden.

When you reach the top, you feel your breathing getting heavier. Your uncle is sitting in front of you and the warmth between your thighs becomes noticeable.

Daemon reaches for the laces of your dress and slowly begins to open it. You feel the pulsing between your thighs getting stronger.

Your dress slowly slides to the floor and Daemon looks up at you. He looks into your eyes and this time he is the one biting his lip. You take another step towards him and he puts his hands on your hips. His hands slide over your soft skin, exploring your curves. Your gaze falls on his crotch and you see how the bulge is already literally trying to push its way through his trousers.

"I want you," he growls. 

And you don't hesitate for long and drop to your knees in front of him. He growls softly again as your eyes meet and you begin to open his trousers. He watches the movements of your hands closely. How you open his trousers and you pull them down to his ankles. You see his hard manhood and feel your wetness soaking your folds. You reach for his hard manhood and let your tongue glide along it. Your eyes are fixed on his. Daemon takes a sharp breath, a moan catching in his throat. You feel his cock react and twitch. Your hand stays closed around his cock, sliding gently up and down as you begin to lick his balls. Your tongue slides along the base of his cock and covers it with your salvia. You can't resist the urge and press your nose against his soft balls, breathing in his scent. Your tongue glides over the wrinkled skin and you suck lightly, trying to take his balls into your mouth. His hand slides into your hair as he grunts.

You look up at him, his lips are slightly parted and he tries to breathe calmly but fails. You moan slightly as you see him being carried away by the pleasure, and it spurs you on. Your hand slides up and down his hard member faster as you continue to suck and lick his balls.

When your work is suddenly interrupted.

"Ahem..." it suddenly sounds and a voice interferes with your little scene with Daemon and you release his balls from your mouth. You haven't noticed Aemond, who is now standing in the middle of the throne room, watching you both intently. For a moment he cannot take his eyes off you, his eyes fixed on his wife and uncle in a compromising position.

Daemon pauses and looks at his nephew with a grin on his face.

"I see we have an audience... What a shame you had to come so early, nephew," Daemon says a little breathlessly.

You look at Aemond and bite your lip lightly. You don't know whether to be embarrassed or excited.

"Aemond..." you whisper, and his gaze meets yours. But you know that look. He doesn't seem angry. In fact, you'd almost say he likes what he sees.

"Do you want to join us?" you ask Aemond boldly. You hear Daemon chuckle slightly, but you figure you'd get in trouble now anyway - so you might as well ask him to join in.

Aemond steps forward, his eye fixed on you. He stares at his wife, whom he loved, and Daemon, his uncle, the man he respected and admired. He looks so confused at the situation. He takes a deep breath and averts his eye from you, but he continues to walk towards the throne. His gaze then lingers on Daemon. You don't know how to assess the situation, and suddenly you notice that both Aemond and Daemon are looking at you, and you feel a strange, electric sensation as you feel their eyes on you. Aemond looks at you and climbs the stairs.

"You want me to join you?" he asks you. You bite your lip and nod just slightly. Aemond is now standing in front of you and you look up at him. Daemon's hand is still in your hair. Aemond doesn't say anything else, and you slowly begin to unbuckle the belt. You hesitate briefly as you unbuckle his belt. But you see no sign that Aemond could stop you. So you continue and start to open his trousers. Aemond's gaze is fixed on your hands.

"I think we need to introduce some new Targaryen traditions, don't you think...", Daemon says quietly as Aemond's trousers slip to the floor and his hard length literally jumps out at you. You see the familiar cock twitching almost furiously. Your mouth is already watering. You bite your lip and look up at Aemond as your hand embrace his hot length. Slowly you let your hand slide down.

Daemon's hand is still in your hair, pushing you closer to Aemond. As you turn further towards your husband and begin to suck on the tip of his cock, Daemon gives you an encouraging slap on the hip and you whimper slightly.

"Come on, little y/n. Show us how you please a man," Daemon says and you feel Daemon slide his hands to your bottom, start massaging it.

You start to let Aemond's cock slide further into your mouth. He moans softly. The salty taste of him spreads into your mouth as you continue to lick and suck, concentrating on taking as much of his length into your mouth as you can. Your hand, meanwhile, strokes the rest of him that doesn't fit in your mouth. Your head bobs in rhythm with his thrusts, which begin to emanate from his hips. Lewd wet noises fill the throne room, accompanied by Aemond's soft groans.

Aemond's eyes are on you, watching as you satisfy him with everything you have.

"I knew you were a good girl...," Aemond whispers.

Suddenly he grabs your head, reaches into your hair and brings your face closer to him. He lets his instinct guide him, thrusts and leads you the way he wants, straight into your greedy mouth.

"And you've learned...," Aemond murmurs, "keep going," he grunts.

Daemon's hand slides further between your legs, running his fingers through your wetness. His fingers find your clit and you moan out. He rubs your swollen pearl with such expertise that you were sure he had never had an unsatisfied lover. Daemon enjoys the sight of you taking Aemond all the way into your mouth. Saliva gathers in your mouth and you can't manage to swallow it. With the next violent thrust Aemond makes you gag and your throat clenches around him - he groans loudly.

Daemon's fingers begin to penetrate you. His fingers thrust and writhe inside you as you begin to rock against him. He kneels behind you and makes you moan even more as his fingers slide even deeper inside you. His fingers are immediately soaked with your wetness.

"Fuck... you're not wet..." he grunts, "you're drenched". You whimper and try to bounce your hips harder on his fingers to feel him deeper.

Aemond's moans become more intense as you start sucking harder and one of your hands finds its way to his balls. You start to apply light pressure, massaging his balls. You look up at Aemond, saliva running out of your mouth by now as he continues to fuck your mouth.Tears come to your eyes and you breathe heavily through your nose. Aemond grunts loudly, you feel his cock twitch in your mouth.

"Keep going my dear niece. Keep making your husband feel good...," Daemon grunts as he teases your inner walls.

And you obey.

But suddenly you feel Daemon pulling his fingers out of you. You can't look over your shoulder because Aemond is still holding your head and continues to thrust into your mouth. But you see Aemond begin to smile despite his panting.

You feel Daemon grab your ass and slowly pull you towards him. You feel his manhood sliding through your folds. Immediately your wet walls clench around an emptiness that wants to be filled. Your breathing becomes heavier and more erratic. And then Daemon penetrates you, but this time he reaches further depths inside you. You moan as he slowly slides into your warm core, stretching you inch by inch. Briefly you try to take Aemond's cock out of your mouth to take a breath. But Aemond only shakes his head slightly and continues to thrust, holding your head firmly in his hand. You whimper again.

"Can you feel how tight our princess is, Uncle?" Aemond grunts a little breathlessly.

"I can… and I want to feel that tightness," Daemon grunt between his thrusts.

Daemon's words make you groan. You are simultaneously aroused and frightened by the situation you find yourself in. You give your husband pleasure, but you are taken - right in front of him, and he watches you and smiles. Daemon's hands are on your hips and he lets them slam hard against his. Your breasts bounce with each thrust. You are defenceless and cannot move willingly as both men take what they want from you.

Aemond continues to moan and groan, his eyes fixed on your body as Daemon looks down as he penetrates you again and again. Aemond's hand still in your hair, still making you unable to move freely.

Daemon grunts and thrusts harder. He buries himself deep inside you up to the hilt. With each thrust his balls slap against your clit and you can't help but whimper and moan. Aemond grunts loudly as your moans vibrate around his cock.

"Yes uncle... she likes that... our little slut..." grunts Aemond. Again you look up at Aemond who continues to fuck your mouth. Tears run down your cheek as saliva still leaks from the corners of your mouth. Aemond's words, praising you and mocking the situation at the same time, give you another shock of arousal.

Daemon just grunts loudly and thrusts harder, stretching your walls completely. You can't help it, your hands grab Aemond's hips as your head rocks in time with the thrusts from your uncle.

With the next deep thrust, Aemonds pushes too far down your throat so that you choke on his cock. Your eyes water again, but you don't stop. With vigour you continue to suck on his twitching cock, swirling your tongue around the slick head. You feel Aemond's leg tighten and hear him grunt loudly.

As Daemon begins to push your buttocks apart for better access and more friction. He looks down and watches how well you take him, your arousal coating his length and gathering around his base. He moans and begins to wet his thumb with your arousal. When his thumb is soaked, he slides to your butthole and applies some pressure. You whimper as you feel what Daemon is doing, but Aemond doesn't let go of your head. Daemon grunts louder and thrusts faster as he presses harder and slides his thumb into your butthole. You moan and whimper.

It's almost too much, but it feels so good.

The thrusts become faster, more intense. Both Daemon and Aemond find their rhythm. Moans, grunts and the slapping of bare skin echo through the throne room.

You feel the warmth spreading through your lower belly. Your thighs give way and begin to tremble.

"Aemond... look at her. See how eager she is to get every hole filled.." Daemon growls. Aemond grunts loudly, feeling the twitch in his balls as he watches you suck greedily on his cock.

"Yes..." gasps Aemond, "and you would like me to fill your mouth, wouldn't you?", he growls at you.

You can only whimper.

You close your eyes, sinking into the moment of pleasure, moaning more and more until your uncle feels you start to clench around his cock and his voice brings you back.

"That's it, y/n. Don't hold back. Come for us," he gasps.

And that's it - You come as Daemon thrusts deep inside you, his thumb pushing deeper into your butthole and your mouth sucking greedily on Aemond. Your moans and the lustful look on your face bring Aemond to climax. He thrusts deep into your mouth once more. He growls and his hot cum spills down your throat, into your greedy mouth. You eagerly try to swallow it all, but some cum drips out of your mouth. Aemond's thrusts slacken and he moans.

You whimper and moan as your pussy continues to clench around Daemon's cock as he fucks you through your orgasm. Then he grunts loudly and pulls out of you. Panting and groaning, he wraps his hand around his cock and pumps it. A deep moan follows as he releases himself across your buttocks. Aemond slowly withdraws from your mouth and smiles slightly at you. His fingers glide gently over your cheek, wiping the remains of his cum from your chin.

Your heavy breathing replaces the obscene sounds heard a short while ago and echoes off the walls of the throne room. Daemon leans slightly against you and tries to catch his breath.

But Daemon is interrupted. The sound of footsteps on stone echoes through the throne room.

Aemond and Daemon both look in the direction of the sound and see King Viserys enter, surrounded by his Kingsguard. You gasp, still kneeling in front of Aemond, Daemon's cum on your bottom.

"What is going on here?!" roars Viserys.

"Oh shit..." murmurs Aemond but Daemon's sniggering punctuates Aemond's statement.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list @aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemond-eyeball @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @valeskafics @dreamlandcreations

[heich0e]

wouldn't it be nice? - suna rintarou/f!reader (haikyuu!): fluff but suggestive at times, established relationship, talk of babies/families/pregnancy, committing to the bit is all fun and games until the bit commits to you, tw: light miscommunication since some of u guys hate that, let the record show this was NOT written for his birthday, i didn't even KNOW it was today ok, i will not be taking questions at this time (or ever)

You know exactly what started it.

The problem.

It was some sappy commercial you saw on TV one lazy Sunday afternoon.

You rarely even watch television—not proper cable television anyway—preferring the simplicity of streaming services in this modern day and age. It's a complete fluke that you happen across it at all while you and Rintarou rest sprawled across his couch in the afternoon sun, your feet tucked underneath his thigh. You wouldn't even go on to remember what the commercial was for; all you remember is the perfect, cherubic little baby at the centre of it, and the way that it made your heart melt.

You let out a long, wistful sigh once the advertisement transitions into the next. "I want to hold a baby."

It piques his interest. That stupid, completely unremarkable comment that you'd come soon to regret.

Rintarou pulls himself a little more upright at his end of the sofa, shooting you a mischievous look. His expression might seem placid to most people, impassive even, but you know it, and him, and all his minute eccentricities too well to be fooled.

"I'll give you a baby," he muses, angling his body over yours on the sofa with his arms caging your waist. You draw your legs back instinctively—hips perpendicular to your thighs and heels to the bottom of your bum—at the first sign of trouble.

Your lip curls, and you lift your sock-clad feet so they press flat against his chest, pushing him back with all the strength you can. He hardly budges, but you expect as much.

"Ew, Rin," you snort, head lolling to the side to idly watch the next useless commercial on TV as it unfolds, “gross."

Suna pauses, a hand loosely circling your ankle, and you glance at him from the corner of your eye. There's a look that you don't recognize that flitters across his face. His grip tightens a little, his thumb sweeping down over the round protrusion of your joint and back again.

"Gross?" he asks softly.

"Yeah, gross," you say, pulling your foot out of his hold. It takes a bit of effort, because he doesn’t seem to want to move, but you roll over onto your side and wiggle out from under him to rise up off the sofa. You shuffle into the kitchen for a snack, and you feel his eyes on you as you go.

But that was just the start.

You’re not sure if you just never noticed, or if the universe has a deeply perverse sense of cosmic humour, but after that Sunday afternoon, it seems like there are babies everywhere you go. 

And if not actual living, breathing babies, then it's all matter of things that are decidedly baby-adjacent. Itty bitty onesies on display at the store you two are shopping at. Sweet souvenir plushies at the Aquarium that are meant for little ones to hold. Diapers, formula, and various other baby necessities are advertised in the posters mounted on bus stops, on train stations platforms, and on flashing digital billboards. 

And every single time, without fail, you see them when you’re with Suna. 

And every single time, without fail, he looks at you and waits for you to meet his gaze. 

You’ve gotten pretty good at avoiding it, honestly. But then he’ll always make some comment. Point it out. Make it obvious.

“Look at that baby’s tiny hand. I bet our baby will have my hands.”

“Can you believe that babies are really this little? Do you think ours will be this small?” 

“If you were buying these for our baby would you get the yellow or the—“

“Trick question,” you cut Suna off, snagging the yellow pair of training chopsticks (complete with a little ducky on top) out from his hands and shoving them back onto the display he’d just plucked them off of. You don’t allow yourself to linger for too long on how cute they really are. “Babies don’t use chopsticks, and also we’re not having a baby.”

You continue down the aisle of the market, a familiar pain throbbing just behind your eyes that Rintarou seems so uniquely skilled at eliciting. Your face is hot too, but that’s probably just from the frustration. After a moment you hear his feet shuffling along after you, and the two of you finish your grocery shopping in relative silence.

You’re used to putting up with all of your boyfriend’s other annoyances and oddities, so this is just another one to add to the ever-growing list. But this time, something feels a bit… different. 

The two of you stop at a vending machine for coffee on your walk home since it’s cold out. Suna has the largest of your two reusable grocery bags looped over one of his arms, and somehow while you’re digging for change in your wallet he manages to weasel the other one off of your arm and onto his own, too. 

“There’s a coffee shop right around the corner, why are you stopping here?” he asks, watching as you carefully make your selection from the humming machine in front of you. You press the button of your choice, and a can of cafe au lait clunks down into the waiting chute below. 

“The metal can keeps my hands warmer,” you explain, sticking a few more yen into the machine and choosing Rintarou’s favourite, too. His choice makes the same descent yours had, and you crouch down to retrieve it for him, holding it out to him in offering as you stand. 

He blinks at you.

“Nah, I’m good,” he says, shaking his head a little. “Hands are full, anyway.”

You balk at him soundlessly for a moment. “Give the other bag back, then!”

“Nope,” he replies, making a point to enunciate it clearly in a way that you know he knows drives you crazy. He takes a step in the direction of your apartment, and you have no choice but to stick the can of coffee he’d declined into your coat pocket and chase after him.

It does a great job of keeping your hand—tucked into your pocket and wrapped around it—warm as you walk, though.

Nearly back at your apartment, your can of coffee drained and properly disposed of, a little ball of fluff waddles past you on the sidewalk, heading towards the entrance of a nearby park. You and Rintarou both pause, equally confused by what you’ve just spotted.

Behind the amorphous little thing is a couple, maybe a few years older than you two are, trailing not even a metre away. You watch as they coo and fawn over it as is wobbles unsteadily towards the open stretch of grass ahead. They call it pet-names, and try to convince it to turn around for mom and dad so they can take a picture.

Oh.

A baby.

Probably a little older than a baby given the whole… walking thing. But it’s still so tiny, even in its big, puffy coat, so they can’t be very old. The hood is pulled up over the child’s head, and you realize upon closer inspection that it has—

“Teddy-bear ears,” Rintarou says, cupping his fingers over his mouth and blowing warm air into his hands. “That’s so cute.”

“Yeah,” you say with a soft smile, watching as the child toddles along in their fluffy little teddy jacket.

Suna must have put the grocery bags down at his feet at some point when the two of you stopped walking, and when he pulls his hands back from his face, you see how the tip of his nose has gone pink from the cold. He dips down in front of you, his eyes narrowed, scrutinizing you up-close. 

“What?” you ask him nervously, a hand fluttering self consciously to your face. 

His breath leaves his mouth in wispy clouds as he tilts his head to the side. He’s so close that the warmth brushes against your lips like an airy, indirect kiss. You wonder if he can taste the coffee that clings to yours.

“What?” you repeat yourself again, a little more insistently this time. You reach up and pinch either of his cheeks between your thumbs and forefingers—stretching the pliable flesh outwards in an attempt to get him to back off a bit. His rosy cheeks are cool under your warm touch.

“Do you think we’d make a cute baby?” Rintarou asks, though the question is a little garbled thanks to your grip, and your stomach clenches involuntarily. His hands, and his frigid fingertips, reach up and rest over your own where you’re still pinching his cheeks—though your vice has eased slightly.

“You can barely even make an omelet,” you huff out as heat rises in your cheeks, pulling your hands out from under his and looking away. “Like I’d ever trust you to make a baby.”

“People make them all the time by accident, you know,” he remarks, rubbing at his stinging cheeks where you’d been pinching him. “I’m sure I could do it on purpose if I really set my mind to it.”

You dip down and grab the grocery bag he’d taken off your hands earlier, hiking it up onto your shoulder.

“Why are you so obsessed with this stupid baby joke?” you ask him exasperatedly, following it with a long, aggrieved sigh that you can see as you breathe it out.

He looks at you for a moment, his brow pinching in the middle. His nose is still so pink, and it makes the green in his eyes stand out more. 

You watch how Suna’s lips part, like he’s going to say something, but then they press together in a thin line again without uttering a word. He picks up his grocery bag with one hand and sets off in the direction of home, and this time you feel a little sheepish as you follow after him.

The apartment is quiet when you return home, and it stays that way as the two of you unpack the groceries in your kitchen side by side. You bought more than you usually would on a weekly grocery trip, all because Suna’s been staying over more than he usually does. But there’s a sudden frostiness that seems to have creeped in from outside, as if clinging to your coattails, and the chill has now settled between the two of you. 

It makes a strange sort of anxiety prickle under the surface of your skin, tender like a bruise. It makes you wonder if half of these groceries are going to go to waste.

“I’ll shower first,” Rintarou mutters without turning towards you after he puts the last pantry item away and closes the cabinet.

Stress sits heavy in the pit of your stomach when he doesn’t look at you. It’s intentional, you know it is. Suna’s favourite hobby is staring at you—he’s told you that himself many, many times. But he doesn’t even spare you a glance before he shuffles off towards your bedroom. 

You stand in silence in the kitchen, as though that weight in your gut keeps you anchored in place. You can hear the rustle of Rintarou’s clothes hitting the hamper. You hear the bathroom door close. You hear the spray of the shower turn on. 

You hear your heartbeat. Loud and wet in your ears.

You’re being ridiculous. You know that. You’re all worked up over nothing. 

This was all just some stupid joke that he was being annoying about in the first place. That he found every possible opportunity to bring up. 

You aren’t even sure what’s upset him so much; uncertain as to why you being annoyed about one of his blatant attempts to annoy you seems to have caused him offence.

You curl up on your sofa as Rintarou showers, picking at the fraying cuff of your hoodie as you similarly pull apart every second of your memory from the walk home from the market in an attempt to identify what could possibly have gone wrong. You’re thinking about the can of coffee—left sitting, unopened and room-temperature now, on your kitchen counter—when you hear the shower turn off.

The seconds tick by agonizingly slowly as you wait for your sullen boyfriend to emerge, but when he does he still seems resolved to avoid you. You wait on the sofa, your fingers stilled in the motion of fiddling with your sleeve, anticipating that he’ll come ask you to blow-dry his hair, just like he always does.

He doesn’t. 

The hairdryer clicks on in the other room, and the sound makes you feel sick. 

“Rin!” your voice leaves you involuntarily, without an ounce of conscious effort. You sound panicked.

The hairdryer clicks off immediately, and Rintarou appears in the doorway to your bedroom—half-dressed and hair half-dried—in an instant. His eyes are alight with concern.

Your hand had flown to your mouth as soon as you called out for him, too late to actually muffle the sound. But it stays there as you look at him with shocked, notably-guilty eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asks you, eying you suspiciously.

“Nothing,” you murmur, your fingers still resting lightly over your lips, you avert your eyes. “It’s nothing, sorry.”

He hesitates in the doorway for a moment, and then turns to head back to the hairdryer.

“It’s just—“

He pauses when you speak again, one of his hands resting on the doorframe he’s lingering beneath—neither in nor fully out. 

“—you’re mad at me.”

You watch his shoulder blades as your words hang in the air between the two of you. The chill in your apartment, unlike it had been outside, is only proverbial—but you half expect to see wisps of vapour slipping out on the edge of your breaths.

“I can’t figure out what I did wrong.”

Suna looks at you over his shoulder, his already vulpine eyes narrowing a little further. Not in irritation, but consideration. For all the strangeness between the two of you today, you can still recognize that much in his expression. 

“I’m not mad at you,” he finally says, and you hate how relieved you feel at so few words. Hate even more how him turning back to face you makes the weight in your stomach lessen. That as he approaches you on the sofa you feel the air warm with every step.

Rintarou perches on the edge of your couch, a full cushion between the two of you as you sit there quietly. Both of his feet are on the ground, but yours are drawn up onto the sofa with you, facing him. Slowly your feet creep forward, slipping your toes under his sweat-pant clad thigh.

Suna’s head droops forward, and he lets out a breathy, wry laugh.

“What are your theories so far?” he asks quietly. 

Your head tilts to the side in confusion.

He peeks over at you, peering up at you from the corner of his eye.

“What do you think you might have done wrong?”

You hum quietly, pursing your lips slightly.

“Well, I… I thought maybe I got you the wrong coffee. I didn’t ask, but you always choose that one, so I just thought…”

Suna clicks his tongue.

“Nope.”

You huff a bit, staring at your hands in your lap. “Well… there was that baby at the park.”

You feel Suna’s eyes on you, but you’re suddenly too wary to meet them. He doesn’t tell you you’re wrong though, so you continue. 

“And I said you can’t make an omelet.”

He laughs a bit again, and you know that wasn’t it either.

“Are you upset because I said that I didn’t think you could make a baby?” you ask, peeking up at him. “Rin, I’m borderline militant about taking my birth control. I obviously don’t think you’re impo—“

Rintarou tips his head up a little further, meeting your gaze. Caught in his stare, it’s suddenly like your words die before you can get them off the tip of your tongue. Slowly, he reaches out towards you, taking one of your fidgeting hands and holding it in his. His touch is warm now, in contrast to what it had been at the park. He lifts your hand up to his mouth.

Delicately, he kisses your fingertips. His lips brush against the digits, over your knuckles and up to your palms. He presses your hand to his cheek and looks at you with the most pitiful gaze. It makes your chest ache. 

“I don’t like it when you say that,” he says reticently. And for all Rintarou’s height and weight and sheer breadth, he sounds so impossibly small.

“Say what?” you ask him, and your voice is quiet too. Vulnerable.

He leans his flushing cheek into your hand, holding it to his face and closing his eyes as he nuzzles into your touch.

“That you wouldn’t have my baby,” he whispers, “that you don’t want it.”

You resist the urge to pull away. It’s an instinct you can’t explain: a desire to keep him at a distance, to always laugh things off, to make a joke out of very real feelings. 

“Because I do.”

You blink.

Suna opens his eyes and looks at you, and for the first time you see the very real, very not joking pain in his eyes.

“I want that with you.”

Your mouth is dry and you’re frozen. You stare at him, completely still, stunned by his sincere confession.

“What?” you manage to squeak out. 

Rintarou closes his eyes again, breathing out a little sigh. He pulls your hand from his cheek, folding your fingers down so they’re hooked in a loose fist around his thumb. He brings your hand to his lips, not quite a kiss but close enough to call it that anyway. 

“Not right now,” he murmurs into your knuckles, lips brushing against you as he speaks the words. “But someday.”

You’re still so shocked that you don’t know how to respond. He peers at you, hand still held to his lips, his eyes more resolved than they are wounded now. 

“And I want you to want that. But I don’t know how to make you want it too.”

Your heartbeat thumps in your chest, resonant and palpable. Heat has crawled all the way up your face now, and you’re fairly certain your hand has gone clammy, but Rintatou passes no comment even if it has.

“Do you think you could?” he asks you quietly. Sheepishly. Earnestly. “Could you want that? With me?” 

You pitch yourself forward suddenly, and Rintarou lets out a little grunt of surprise as the two of you topple back into the sofa. You hide your burning face in the crook of his neck, that smells like your body wash and shampoo but somehow so much better, clutching onto him like your life depends on it. Suna seems shocked for a moment as he finds himself flat on his back with your weight on top of him, and his body is stiff as he processes it. After a few beats of your too-loud, too-telling heart pass, he finally eases. He wraps his arms around your waist and holds you tightly to him.

“You’re so stupid,” you grumble, your eyes squeezing shut tightly.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and you can hear the smile in his voice. The genuine laughter that’s hiding just behind the words. He hugs you a little tighter. “Probably.”

You stay like that for a while, basking in the warmth of Rintarou’s body and the rhythm of his breath.

“You love me though,” he says quietly, “so that reflects pretty badly on you.”

You lift your head to meet his gaze, and find him barely holding in a laugh. You can’t help but laugh with him. Can’t help but enjoy your favourite sound.

Rintarou scoops you up in his arms again, tugging you into his lap. He presses featherlight kisses to the corner of your jaw, and you fiddle with his long, lithe fingers. He sighs, but this time the sound is at ease. His damp hair tickles your face as he rests his forehead against your temple, nosing at your cheek.

“Hey, Rin?” you murmur as you run your thumb over the space between his first and second knuckle on his ring finger. You think about the kid you saw at the park in the fluffy jacket, and the besotted parents trailing along behind it.

He answers you with a content, if not slightly curious, hum. 

You turn your face towards him, and your noses brush. Rintarou’s lashes flutter as his gaze turns a little heavy-lidded. You can feel his breath on your lips, that’s how close he is. You inch forward until the space between you is almost completely gone.

And just before your lips meet, you smile.

“I do think we’ll make a cute baby.”

[ariaste]

Ok I haven't seen anyone else talking about this yet, but I'm going insane about it so now it's going to be your problem. The question on everyone's mind during IWTV s1 is, "Ok but did you eat the baby, Louis?" and I'm here to tell you that I had an epiphany and I have concluded....

Yes, Louis did eat that baby. Because of Mardi Gras.

I know that sounds crazy, hear me out.

(Contains spoilers for the end of the book series)

First, for those of you who are unfamiliar, one of the most delicious traditions of New Orleans Mardi Gras is the king cake, which is a ring-shaped pastry of sugary, buttery death covered in purple, green, and gold sprinkles. (If you can get your mouth on a good one, it's divine. Mediocre ones are deeply disappointing. This is a case where quality matters. ...I am getting off topic.) Inside the king cake, according to tradition, is hidden a little plastic baby. Whoever gets the slice that has the baby in it is proclaimed the king of that particular Mardi Gras party and is granted certain solemn responsibilities, such as buying the king cake next year. It's not a very large plastic baby (about the size of maybe two jellybeans), so sometimes you find it in your mouth rather than on your plate. So: You eat the baby, you're the king.

Got it? Great.

Episode 1x07 shows us Lestat Very Definitely Eating That (Fake (Plastic??)) Baby, while being King of Mardi Gras, on the Krewe of Raj (which is probably meant to refer to the real-life Krewe of Rex. Rex and Raj both mean king). This is a wild sort of thing to do for no reason (whether Doylist or Watsonian), but New Orleans residents would probably parse this as a gruesome and tasteless perversion of the concept around the king cake tradition. Gruesome and tasteless perversions of ideas are exactly Lestat's type of humor. He knows what he's doing: He's making a Weird Statement about the legitimacy of his "reign".

Still with me? Ok. Here we go, last step.

The penultimate and antepenultimate books of the series are Prince Lestat and Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis, in which Lestat is Democratically Elected (read: strongarmed/browbeaten/guilt-tripped by a jury of his peers) prince of the vampires. He mopes around about this because he doesn't want the job, but ultimately pulls himself together and makes big wet puppy eyes at Louis like, "plz plz plz mon cher plz come be royal consort, i literally cannot cope with this situation unless I have you with me" until Louis agrees to come be royal consort.

Now, the strangely intense and INTENTIONAL ambiguity of "did Louis eat the baby?" in 1x02 -- that is, the way that there is conspicuously no answer as to whether he did or not -- could just be a cool opportunity to make us think about vampires doing shocking, irredeemable things, such as the consumption of infants. But in parallel with 1x07 and the fact that this is New Orleans and Lestat's baby-eating incident was explicitly rooted in Mardi Gras traditions... it strikes me as foreshadowing. It strikes me as a clever little wink of secret jokes by the Unreliable Narration Show which has already established that it loves playing games with the audience and intentionally leaving little hints that pay off later in a BIG way.

It's New Orleans. It's Mardi Gras. The king eats the baby, and Loustat's destined endgame is Royal Power Couple.

Louis ate the baby. One hundo percent, he ate that baby. Five bucks says we find out the truth right around the time Lestat is crying and wailing and begging Louis to run the vampire government with him.

Season 7 when????

[tokkias]

you stole my shirt (and took my heart with it) ship: natsu dragneel x lucy heartfilia summary: As Natsu watches Lucy totter around the house donned in little more than an oversized tee, an itch of familiarity lingers in his brain. He's seen that shirt before, but not on Lucy—he just can't seem to place his finger on where. ao3

For as much as Lucy loves cute clothes and getting dressed up all nice and pretty, she also values being comfortable—something that some of her cuter clothes do not afford her. That’s why she has a drawer full of what she calls “house clothes” which are exactly what they sound like: clothes she only wears around the house.

It’s almost entirely made up of cozy oversized cotton tees and pyjama shorts that are so short that they barely peek out the hem of her shirt. They’re no fashion statement, but they’re comfy and give her enough mobility to do chores around the house, and that’s the most important part.

How she looks when she’s tottering around the house, doing her laundry, cleaning the bathroom, or cooking her meals doesn’t matter, because there are a grand total of two people who see her in this state—herself and her nosey, breaks-into-her-house best friend. She’s come to accept him seeing her like this, which is important considering he’s currently sitting on her couch, munching away on whatever snack he has found in her kitchen as she totters around her apartment.

What she doesn’t notice, however, is the way he stares at her as she does so. It’s not in a perverse manner, in the way perhaps anyone else would stare while she was in this state; no, he was thinking about something else entirely.

There’s something about that shirt that seems... familiar to him; he just can’t put his finger on what.

It’s old, worn cotton, with the name of some Magnolia sports team barely visible on the front. It raises a few suspicions considering he’s pretty sure she couldn’t even tell you what sport they play, but he can’t put it past her to have bought it for the comfort rather than the aesthetic.

He’s seen the logo plastered on shirts and hoodies throughout Magnolia for as long as he’s lived here, but that’s not what's causing that itch of familiarity in his brain.

As she walks past him again, he notices part of the hem on the sleeve has torn and the fabric has subsequently rolled out, exposing its raw edges. It rings some sort of bell in his head, like he’s seen that exact thing before, even though he’s not sure he can recall Lucy ever wearing this shirt.

The whole thing is bothering him to no end.

He’s seen this shirt before; he’s certain of it, but not on Lucy, so where the hell has he seen it before?

It lingers in his mind as a vague memory, but every time he tries to conjure it up in his brain, it only comes to him in hazy images.

He furrows his brow and squints his eyes as he watches Lucy wipe the dust off her bookshelf. Thus far, staring has done him no good, so he decides that instead of trudging further into this dead end, he’s going to try a different tactic.

Pulling himself off the couch, he marches right up behind her with the intent of getting answers.

As she turns around, she walks straight into him, her eyes widening slightly in surprise to see him so close.

“Uh, hi?” She greets, polite but certainly confused.

He doesn’t bother with a reply—he has much more important things in mind. Instead, he presses his nose to her shoulder and takes a deep whiff of the fabric. It smells of Lucy—obviously—it smells of the lavender-scented fabric softener she uses, but it very, very faintly smells of something deeply familiar to him.

It’s barely there, only just intertwined within the weaves of the fabric, something he might have missed entirely if he had not been so in tune with the recognisable smell, and suddenly the answer hits him.

“That’s my shirt!” He accuses, and based on the way her face quickly turns a deep red in response, he knows he’s hit the mark.

“N-no it’s not!” Lucy exclaims, though her voice contradicts her words.

Had he not been convinced before, her reaction certainly would have done it. Lucy is not a good liar, and as her best friend, Natsu knows all of her tells, including just how defensive she gets' when caught in a lie like this.

“Yeah it is!” He shoots back.

Lucy babbles for a few moments, unable to come up with any better argument or excuse.

“You left it here!” She finally replies, as though it justifies her wearing it.

Now that he knows where it's from, he remembers clear as day. It explains why Lucy has a men's-sized shirt of a sports team she probably doesn’t know exists, and it explains why he hasn’t seen the damn thing in months.

“Give it back!” He demands.

“What? No!” Lucy replies, sounding almost offended by his demand. “You left it here, so it’s mine now!”

The phrase finders keepers echoes in his head in her voice. She didn’t explicitly say it, but he could certainly feel the childish vibe that came with it.

Not that he was much better. In fact, what he plans to do is certainly much more childish than that.

He grabs the bottom hem of the shirt and begins to lift it up, eliciting a horrified squeal from Lucy as she defensively wraps her arms below her bust, stopping him in his tracks lest she flash him and anyone else who may have the misfortune of seeing in through her very open window.

“Natsu!” She cries out. “Stop it!”

“No! I want it back!”

He doesn’t actually want it back as much as his external desperation might imply.

Normally he wouldn’t care too much—it wasn’t exactly a sentimental item; he’d almost forgotten about its existence entirely, but a little voice of chaos inside his brain was telling him that he needs that shirt back. Now.

Maybe it was because it smells like her now, her scent having permeated into the fibres of the fabric in the months since he had last seen it. He had hardly ever worn the shirt in recent times, but the idea of wearing a shirt that had become Lucy’s, carrying with it her scent everywhere he went, is oddly comforting to him.

He wants to have that, and maybe, just a little bit, he wants an excuse to see her without a shirt on.

Despite her protests as she tries her best to hold the shirt down, Natsu does not give in—in fact, it only makes him tug harder. He’s determined to get it back, and he’s well aware that he’s stronger than her. If it’s a means to an end, he doesn’t mind using all of that strength to get his shirt back.

He pulls harder on the shirt, and Lucy responds in turn by gripping down harder. It doesn’t deter him, and he simply keeps pulling it up, stretching the fabric out until eventually it gives in and tears with a loud rrriiippp.

Instinctively, they both let go and look down at it, slack-jawed in shock, to assess the damage.

Though the seams have managed to hold up, it seems as though the fabric was simply unable to withstand the force of it and ripped straight across the front, leaving a giant hole in the shirt.

“Natsu!” Lucy scolds, snapping her head back up to face him. “Look what you’ve done!”

“Me? You did it too!” Natsu replies.

“If you hadn’t grabbed it, I wouldn’t have had to hold it down,” she huffs.

As she looks back down at it, he sees a soft crease form in her brows and her lips turn down in something that resembles sorrow. It’s not a look he likes on her, and it causes a pang of guilt to hit him as he realises what he’s just done.

“Sorry…” He murmurs, letting whatever was left of his determination to get it back melt away. “I didn’t realise you cared so much about it.”

“I liked it because... it smells like you.”

“Oh…”

He’s vaguely aware of the fact that even though his sense of smell is far beyond hers, even he can become desensitised to his own smell. Though he can barely pick up on his own scent on it, it must be stronger to her.

The realisation that his smell brings her just as much comfort as hers does for him makes his heart thrum just a little faster in his chest. It makes it feel a little achy in a way that he’s not quite sure he can explain.

It certainly makes him feel even more guilty for what he’s just done.

“It’s fine,” she tries to dismiss, hiding the sadness in her voice. “I can just stitch the hole up, and then you can have it back.”

Though he had just tried to take it back by force, suddenly the idea of having it back in his possession seemed much less appealing. Getting back a torn shirt that he already knew he would never wear again meant much less to him than Lucy’s happiness. If she wants the shirt, she can have it. In fact, she can have every shirt, jacket, hoodie, and jumper he owns if that’s what will make her happy.

“I’ll fix it,” he offers, despite not having the foggiest of an idea of how to go about doing that. “And then you can keep it.”

“Do you even know how to sew?” She questions, her brow quirked up in vaguely amused curiosity.

“No, but I can figure it out,” he says. “It’ll be easy.”

His reply elicits a laugh from Lucy at his absolute audacity and confidence that that is something he can do. It wipes that sad expression right off her face, and it might be the most beautiful sound he’s heard.

"No, really, you can have it back if you want,” she reassures. "I'm not sure how much you’d still want it, but... the offer still stands.”

Natsu simply shakes his head.

“Nah, it’s yours now,” he says. “But I want something in exchange.”

She looks at him with eyebrows raised, her expression curious but apprehensive at the same time.

“I want one of your shirts!” He exclaims.

“What? Natsu, you can’t-”

Anything she wants to say is quickly cut off when he makes a dash to her dresser, not willing to wait for her reply considering he already knows what it’s going to be.

“Hey! Stop it! It’ll tear at the seam if you try to put it on!”

He’s well aware of the fact, but it does little to deter him. If she gets a shirt that smells like him, he wants a shirt that smells like her, and Lucy is simply going to have to give into the fact that today, Natsu’s ripping two of her shirts.

[pinkwright]

when the angels call i need u wide awake

ellie williams x black female!reader

inspiration | sex, violence, suicide by amaarae.

author's note — okay i rlly cant get this out of my head i needed to write it out but this is probably the filthiest shit i've ever written lol pls ellie just does things to me omfg (i think i'll make an ellie taglist, u can just ask to be on it)

warnings — 18+. mean-ish!ellie (yall know my game), mentions of stitches, injury, slight blood, fingering (r!receiving), pain kink, degradation kink, praise kink but also not rlly, humiliation kink, reader is a srs painslut like, dom!ellie, sub!reader, coming untouched, kinda needy!ellie, blood kink idk, masochist!reader but its like mild i think idfk, sadist!ellie, not rlly specified but i always write w black!female reader in mind so, kinda pervert!ellie i don't fucking know lol.

word count — 1042

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thinking about ellie stitching you up; the girl getting warm from the way you writhe in pain, sinking her teeth harshly into her bottom lip as she watches you with an intense, contemplative gaze. her self-control slipping at the pathetic little whimper you let out at the tug she gives when tying them off, the jolt of pain thrumming as it throbs under your skin. ellie's next movements are hazy like she's stuck in a dream; her actions are fueled by the sick need to see you writhe like that again, so her lips are parting when she gently presses the pad of her thumb into the tender skin surrounding your stitched flesh. the forest green of her eyes almost swallowed by the expansion of her darkening pupils, feeling her cunt clench at the perverse heat that thrums from her clit at the whimper of pain you breathe out, your body squirming away from her. her eyelids flutter, pretty auburn lashes kissing her skin as she inhales a shaky breath, a rush to gather her slipping self-control, the devil on her shoulder coercing her to hurt you more just to bathe in those pretty sounds, those dizzying squirms; taunting her with the images of you trying to get away while your body aches to be nearer. the guilt eating at her belly only adding to the warmth that claws under her skin. when she gazes up into your eyes from her crouched position and sees your fucked out expression, your lips bitten swollen, eyebrows furrowed, she's inhaling sharply, definitely thinking, "i'm fucking going to hell" as she gives in.

then she's everywhere, one strong hand pressing into your raw skin, the other digging into your soaking panties, her face pressed into your neck as she hums, voice soft as she breathes the words out, dragging them across your heated skin, "it's alright, yeaaah, thaat's it, baby. just let me do this." a groan tightly squeezing out of her throat when she feels just how wet you are, your thighs squeezing around her arm and all you're doing, all you can do, is writhe at the overwhelming heat encompassing your body, your skin crawling at how good the act is making you feel. just whimpering in pain and pleasure, as ellie forces those noises she loves right out of you, her breathing heavy as she sinfully regards you, sounding and looking like every one of her sick fantasies, pretty and dreamy, the bane of her insatiable desire.

your lips are parted, body flinching away from the gentle caress of her thumb across your hot, raised skin, your slick drenching ellie's hand, the searing humiliation at the pleasure the act brings you makes you so fucking wet. and ellie's just condescendingly cooing in this mean, mean voice, her lips softly skimming across your neck, "does it hurt, baby?", humming calmly at your whimpered response, "hurts so, so bad, els." your fingers digging into her shoulders, nails quarter to breaking into the skin. her fingers are carving into your walls so deeply, so fucking vicious in her movements and it makes you so fucking dizzy because her voice is so gentle. her thumb caressing so softly against your freshly stitched skin, but the act is dragging pained jolts up your spine, her fingers fucking you like it's her religion, roughly tearing you apart, guiding you to the most violent orgasm of your life in the most sickly-sweet way.

her voice is calmly, sweetly cooing through the hazy fog in ur mind, dragging her lips gently across your cheekbone as she degrades you so meanly; telling u how fucking disgusting you are, how fucking filthy that cunt is, making you listen to how wet you are for her as she uses that tone, the one she uses when she's praising you. her raspy, rough voice, sweet and low, fond in its delivery... and you deny her words frantically, fucking back onto her fingers as you pout, vehemently denying her words as your lashes clutter with tears, your heart racing as the pressure building between your legs coerces out your desperation. ellie tsking as she presses deeper into the taut skin she, so generously, fixed like she's punishing you for your denial, the pain hot and bordering on unbearable, the power trip at your cry and violent jolt away from her causes her eyes to roll back as she calls you her pretty little painslut, her voice keeping that same intonation, laced with an undertone of dripping desperation for you.

her smoldering green eyes pin you in place as she breathes against your lips, smirking as your eyes clench tightly, her words travelling into your parted mouth while her fingers press harshly against that tender spot inside you, her voice dripping with unbridled sweetness as she drags out repeated, "just like that, baby"'s your hips canting up as you uncontrollably fuck back onto her ruthless fingers. your fingernails drag into the tatted skin of her forearm trying to slow her merciless pace, but she doesn't relent, angling her palm to graze your clit just right, and the action makes you shake, thighs trembling as you jolt so hard you push further up into her; her fingers grazing against the taut skin of your knitted flesh forced to shallowly dig into the little gaps between the thread at the violent movement, your blood soaking the tips of her fingers just as you drench her. a heavy agony-laced, pleasure-filled sob wrecks through your throat, the tears spilling down your cheeks and ellie's mind blanks.

you're trembling in the aftershocks, clenching tight everywhere, as your mind surges with just ellie; ellie, ellie, ellie, your pussy feels hollow from the way she positively carved through your walls, the tender muscles clenching tight, pulling her impossibly deep, your juices sliding down her forearm making her tattoo glisten in the low light, ellie letting out the filthiest fucking whimpers at the site, your pussy sucking her back in like it knows her, like it owned her and ellie's hungrily devouring your ruined image, the blood on her fingertips smearing across the skin of your hipbone, your blood, her cunt is relentless in the way it tightly clenches as she follows you, untouched, the devil on her shoulder cackling at the pathetic way her hips thrust into the air, ellie's lungs punching at the perverse release, whining when thinks about how much you've ruined her.

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ஜ .tags { @abenomeiiii }