#too much power in the cheeks of a single man

[bl0rbohandbag]

why would gege give gojo an ass

it was his only flaw. we could say "oh gojo is perfect? well he’s got a flat ass. assless."

now you're telling me this man used all his free time in the prison realm to do some squats?? to build a killer workout routine?? to get buff as fuck?

[ffsg0jo]

toji's not used to this.

the sweet nothings whispered into his cheek, the feeling of the newly risen sun soaking into his skin. his body is telling him to move, to get up, to just grab the money you left him on the desk and leave. but your arms tighten around his torso, and he takes a deep breath in, slightly relaxing into your hold. he reminds himself that there is no money and that there is no reason for him to leave. he's safe in your arms.

he hasn't had to leave before the sun's up in a while now. he's almost forgotten how it feels to be ashamed since he met you. you saw him like he was an actual person. really looked at him, past the hard exterior, and saw more than just a man to take advantage of.

it's taking time for him to get used to being cared for, to being loved. in the year (almost two) that he's known you, it has gotten infinitely better. he's got a roof permanently over his head, is in contact with megumi (the boy's set to move back in with his father just before his birthday) and has gotten a stable job with a decent income. you've helped him with budgeting and saving money (upon his request), and he's even started a small 'megumi college fund'.

he finds himself opening up to both you and his son more, sharing little snippets of the thoughts on his mind and his feelings. with the child growing faster and faster as the days go by, he realises just how alike him and megumi are. emotionally stunted, but both loving fiercely. he has his mother's smile though.

his wife's smile.

his late wife. she would've hated what he became after her death. would've scolded him for leaving his son with a random teenager. would’ve despised the countless murders, her heart breaking at what he’s had to do for money and a roof. maybe it was a good thing she wasn’t alive to see it.

he wonders if she'd be okay with him moving on.

in another life, you both would've been the bestest of friends. you're so alike but so different at the same time. you're both his respite too. she might've left him for you if he was being honest, the thought making him laugh dryly every single time it enters his mind.

toji feels like he can conquer the world with you cheering him on and his son right beside you, in his corner. he's getting better. he really is. but progress isn't linear.

there are still nights where he breaks down, sobbing into your arms.

he tries to be quiet, but his throat clogs up, and he can't breathe. he's gasping for air, trying to focus on the way one of your hands is sifting through his hair and the other rubbing his back. but he slips, and a new wave of tears run down his face. he's spluttering, and there's snot all over your shoulder. but you patiently hold him through it all, press kisses to his hair, gently telling him to let it all out.

"i've got you toji," you whisper. "you'll always be safe with me."

when he's finally settled, you're holding a water bottle to his lips, letting him drink as much as he wants, gently dragging a cool, damp washcloth over his face when he's had his fill. your gentleness and unfiltered love make him want to sob all over again. he's undeserving, he thinks, but he'll never be ungrateful for your love or take advantage of it. he'd do anything in power to become deserving of you and cherish you for as long as he lives.

he'll never be the man he once was. his wife's death had affected him deeply in ways he'll never recover (and part of him doesn't want to fully); she was the love of his life. but he's working on reconciling with what he's becoming and the way you've impacted his life, too.

he feels guilty for loving you sometimes, the way he loved his late wife. you've experienced things with megumi his wife could only dream of. megumi loves you like a mother figure, and sometimes he finds himself loathing the fact. it's not your fault, though, and his therapist's words constantly play on his mind, forcing the negative thoughts out. it's getting better.

slowly but surely, toji is healing. his life wasn't always easy, full of hatred and anger. he's made so many mistakes, he has so many regrets (you'd never be one of them) and he's atoning for his sins. like sand during a storm in the desert, grain by golden grain, his life has been displaced with love. with his late wife's, with his little blessing's, and with yours.

he's loved and lost, and then lost a whole lot more. but now, he's been given the privilege of loving once more.

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

[peachsayshi]

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ blessings ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

↬ summary: nanami kento tries to be the perfect husband and father but when a tough night fighting curses ends badly it results in nanami snapping at his daughter. 

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni) ↬･tags: nanami x female reader; hurt/comfort; nanami has a daughter; domestic drama; being a jujutsu sorcerer is hard; momotarō is a famous Japanese folk tale :c ↬･ wc: 3,383

↬ notes: hi, everyone! I'm currently not really active at the moment so please don't feel disheartened if I haven't been responding to your messages or tagged posts. I'm taking a small break and only coming online for a bit to catch up on some messages, read fics or queue posts. I'll be back to properly posting and interacting soon but in the meantime I wanted to share that I finished up this draft over the weekend. I was actually debating if I should post this but then just decided to go for it! sending all my love xx

nanami’s head is heavy, completely clouded with despair, and it tints his brown eyes a shade of murky gray. the walls of his beautiful home feel narrow, almost claustrophobic, which explains why he’s struggling to catch his breath right now. stepping into the hallway, he instinctively peeks into the dining area to find you and his daughter eating dinner together. she’s sitting on the chair, her legs far too short to even touch the ground, holding a half eaten onigiri between her small hands. you are by her side, sneakily tidying up after her as you brush away the stray beads of rice trickling onto the table. 

a little glow blooms in nanami’s heart at the sight of you both but there is a vicious creature residing in the pit of his stomach that veils the bright light away. 

he quietly takes off his jacket, his bruised fingers loosening the tie around his neck. he clears his throat before announcing with exhaustion to you both that he’s finally home. 

your eyes meet his, the muscles on your face falling immediately. he can practically feel the blood rushing through your veins as worry washes over you. the reaction makes his chest uncomfortably tight, but he knows that he can’t hide his expressions around you like he used to. 

you both move together so fluidly now, like a single body of water that ebbs and flows to its own natural current. 

he escaped the night’s fight with a few cuts and a couple of bad bruises, but there is currently a student on shoko’s table who barely made it through. the young man arrived at jujutsu tech only a couple of weeks ago, but his naive and charismatic qualities turned into fatal flaws in the world of sorcery.

he bit off more than he could chew by trying to take on a special grade curse.  

shoko promised nanami that she would heal the boy, but admitted there was only so much she can do in regards to the aftermath of his injuries. the sorcerer couldn’t bare to leave him behind, but gojo refused that he stay and insisted that he return back home to his pretty wife and adorable daughter immediately. 

“I’ll handle things from here,” is what his superior said, while nanami’s guilt climbed up his throat. 

that student was his responsibility... 

...and he failed him entirely. 

“papa’s home!” his daughter chirps. the pitch of her voice ringing in nanami’s ears to pull him back to the present and far away from the scene where life and death were dancing together in a tango.  “papa, look, look...mama and I made onigiri!” 

her feet bounces up and down, and there’s a touch of a pink against her cheeks when her mouth stretches into a beaming grin. the innocence in her eyes makes nanami falter and he can feel himself falling deeper into the abyss. for a minute he resents himself for selfishly bringing such a beautiful thing into this world, only to gamble with the fact that she may potentially be in his shoes one day. 

he begs for that outcome to never happen, beseeches whatever higher power above him that exists to spare her from this life. she should never have to go through this, never have to experience these heartbreaks that only wither a person down. 

“I can see that,” nanami replies in a low voice before shifting his attention to his feet. 

right now, he can’t stomach an ounce of her purity, and it radiates around her like a halo. she's so unbothered by his presence, so completely unaware of the sudden change in the atmosphere around her... 

“we made tuna, salmon, and veggies...” she babbles on. 

“how nice...” nanami curtly interrupts, before anxiously running his fingers through the strands of his messy blonde hair. 

“which one do you want, papa?” she questions eagerly, pointing her sticky hands at the plate to show off the selection of triangles. 

“sweets,” you interject just as nanami turns on his heel to walk in the other direction, “how about we finish up eating our dinner, and we can save some for your daddy tomorrow...”

“nooo!” she whines far too loudly, which forces nanami to stop dead in his tracks. he glances over his shoulder to see her puffing out her bottom lip with disappointment, “you said...you said we make it so we eat together!” 

she’s only six. 

she can’t perceive that her father is struggling to hold himself together. deep down inside nanami knows that, but it isn’t enough to keep his cool. he doesn’t know why his daughter’s insistence causes him to pinch the front of his brows with annoyance or why he shoots a frustrated look in her direction. 

he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly picturing shoko calling the student’s parents to deliver the news that the man who was supposed to protect their child was unsuccessful in his duty. 

he doesn’t know why he feels at fault for everything that happened, even though the circumstances of the events were completely out of his control.  

he doesn’t know why he’s imagining himself on the receiving end of a very similar call, or why he can’t stop picturing his precious daughter on that table instead…

all of this pummels into him, and the monster emerges out from it’s cave.  

“be quiet and stop making such a fuss.” 

his voice comes out sharper than expected, and the expulsion of his frustration allows him to see the crystal clear picture before him. 

the room is dead silent. 

your face is in full shock at the hissing tone of your sweet husband snapping at his darling baby girl who he only ever speaks to with a gentle voice. 

what truly unravels nanami is the look that his daughter is giving him - her angelic features are sullen, but her eyes remain wide with surprise. her bottom lip is slack, and the only sound he can hear is her uneasy breathing. her eyes, the most beautiful gems in existence, twinkle as tears begin to form and she tries to quickly blink them away before turning her attention back to her plate.  

nanami doesn’t know he managed to stop time itself but the three of you remain frozen in place. 

he regrets his words immediately. 

he wants nothing more than to pull his precious girl close into his chest and smother her with apologies. the part of him with sense tells him to follow through and make things right with her, but instead he begrudgingly continues to wallow in his own self pity as he walks over to his room. 

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

the house is unusually quiet now, the music of domestic joy morphing into hushed murmurs and whispers outside your room door. you settle your crestfallen daughter into her bedroom before moving to check on your husband next. 

fresh out of the shower, nanami is seated on the edge of the bed with his exhausted eyes pressed firmly into the palms of his hands. he exhales a heavy breath, his dirty work clothes still piled just outside the bathroom, and your heart nearly collapses seeing him in such a state of disarray.

you kneel before him, two hands sliding across the soft material of his sweats as you brush them along his thighs before carefully bringing them up to circle around his wrists. 

“kento?” 

he allows you to pull his palms away but your throat constricts when a band forms tightly around your neck. you swallow the lump with an upturn of your brows as you are greeted with red, exhausted eyes. you cup that handsome face in your hands, your thumbs sweetly motioning back and forth across his cheeks as you try to soothe the tension away. 

after all this time together, it hurts you to see that he still tries to hide his tears. nanami constantly holds himself to the highest standard, always ensuring that he can solidify himself as the rock for you and your daughter to depend on through thick and thin. it’s so rare for you to see him crack, to watch him crumble under the overbearing weight of the things that he is burdened to carry. 

“you had a rough night,” you point out in a low, sympathetic voice and he simply just nods his head in acknowledgement. 

his eyes flutter close again when you lean forward to press a tender, reassuring kiss on his brow. “you want a talk about it?” 

the way his voice shakes makes you shiver, but you tentatively listen as he relays the events of the night before finally concluding that satoru called him only a few minutes ago to reassure him that the student in question is alright. 

“he lost an eye, but at least he’s alive...” he concludes somberly, the warble in his final statement prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck as you pull him in for a protective hug. 

nanami receives it with gratitude, strong arms circling around your waist as he buries his nose into the crook of your shoulder and breathes in.

your scent is a reminder of his permanent sanctuary.

a safety, a reassurance of home.

you stroke his blonde locks between your fingers until he exhales, "i'm so sorry," he breathes, "I...I didn't mean to snap like that..."

a tiny smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and you unravel yourself to cup his jaw into your palms once again. "I appreciate the apology, but I don't think I should be on the receiving end of it..." you hint sweetly.

nanami closes his eyes guiltily. "I'm a horrible father."

you click your tongue with disappointment, your face falling as your disapproval pinches between the space of your brows.

"you're just human," you remind him defensively, "you're a wonderful father, the best man that our daughter can look up to"

"did you see the look on her face?" he replies, his voice unnaturally small. the tender expression he gives you is filled with regret, and it's enough to make your heart ache all over again.

"kento," you contend, "don't do this to yourself. we're both going to have days where we mess up, but that doesn't mean that the problem can't be fixed."

you thread his hair between your fingers, like your brushing through rays sunlight. "she's waiting for me to read her a bedtime story," you explain, "but I'm sure she would rather be with you instead..."

"I doubt that," your husband replies as he reaches for your hand to kiss the inside of your palm.

"we will always love you, kento," you answer back, "unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"

he didn't even know how desperately he needed to hear that, for your certainty to remedy away all his sorrows, until they actually left your lips.

your husband's throat tightens, tears pricking his eyes once more but he hides them away when he leans in to seek out a kiss from the woman whose heart he deeply adores.

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

nanami leans his shoulder against the frame of his daughter's room. his heart patters lightly, making him realize that he might actually be nervous. it's strange, he thinks, that he would feel hesitant to approach his own child considering that he was her guardian but nanami had never allowed his professional life to fracture into his personal one like this before.

she's seated on the floor next to a pile of books and her stuffed rabbit secured tightly underneath her arm. there's a warmth in his chest when when he makes note of the soft toy, because he purchased that himself the day she was born and the pair have been inseparable ever since.

he clears his throat, bringing his scuffed knuckles to gently knock on the door.

"my love?" he calls out to her.

his daughter perks up, her breathing changing slightly as it rises and falls with a hint of apprehension. she glances over her shoulder to see him.

"where's mama?" she asks, her question shattering the man into a million pieces at her subtle dismissal.

"taking a shower," he answers cooly, "but I'm here to get you ready for bed..."

her lovely eyes refuse to lock into his own, and she simply tucks her lip between her bottom teeth to avoid giving nanami a reply.

she looks so much like him when he was a child. he remembered when his parents used to scold him too, and how he would also hide away in his room. the only difference is that nanami's parents were far more traditional - a time where elders were never submissive to young hearts.

"may I come in?" he requests politely, ensuring that his daughter knew she had a choice if she wanted to speak to him.

her nostrils flare slightly while she considers him, but to his relief she nods her head eagerly.

nanami steps into her room, always feeling largely out of place amongst her things. "did you find a story for bed?" he asks.

she again quietly nods her head and picks up her favorite book; a compilation of japanese folktales with beautiful illustrations. you both have been reading one for her each night ever since she got it it as a present from her grandparents.

he crouches on his knees to meet her at eye level. "you've really been enjoying this one, haven't you?" he carries on, hoping to coax more words out of her.

“yeah,” she replies in the same mousy voice of uncertainty. she shifts her attention away when she stands on her feet, clutching onto the stuffed bunny tightly while her other hand swings the book by her side.

“and what tale are we reading tonight?”

she shrugs her shoulders with indifference, a hint of pink blushing her cheek. “I dunno. I…I can just until mama is ready…”

nanami visibly slumps. her rejection an entirely new painful experience that he's never endured before. he scratches the back of his head anxiously, finding himself at a loss for words. the seconds pass, an awkward bubble surrounding both father and daughter. it’s only broken when nanami exhales a sigh, and reaches his hands towards her waist to draw her into his frame.

“darling,” he addresses tenderly, “can you look at me?”

“no, you were mean…” she blurts out, her bottom lip trembling slightly.

nanami’s heart sinks.

that’s the first time he’s ever heard those words from her lips.

“I know,” he murmurs shamefully.

her mouth forms into a tiny button of a pout but she meets his eyes for the first time as he acknowledges his behavior.

nanami arches forward to kiss her forehead, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, sweetheart. I’m so sorry if I upset or scared you”

she fidgets with the book in her hand. “did you not want onigiri?” she asks, her innocence tugging the corners of her father’s lips into a small grin.

“it wasn’t the onigiri, my love,” he reassures, “daddy just…had a bad day at work…”

“why was it bad?”

nanami sighs once again.

she still doesn’t know that he’s a sorcerer. you’ve both reduced his position to her by simply explaining that nanami “helps and protects people".

thankfully your daughter doesn’t pry too hard to ask any further questions.

“someone I know got hurt. so, daddy was a little shaken up when he came home…”

"shaken up?"

"scared, my love"

his daughter shakes her head in disbelief, “nu-uh, you never get scared, papa” she rebuts.

nanami huffs out a laugh, flashing her a full grin now as he brings his fingers to his chin to to ponder her sweet statement. he quirks his brow and cheekily replies, "we can't all be brave like you," in an attempt to lighten the mood.

his daughter narrows her eyes towards his hand, her mind instantly distracted with other things already. "you got hurt too papa!" she gasps, dropping the bunny by her side to point at his knuckles.

nanami glances at his fingers covered in red marks.

"wait!" she exclaims as she places the book by his side. "I have something!"

she spins on her heel and rushes towards one of her drawers. meanwhile, nanami just takes her in with his love soaked eyes, watching as she rummages through her stuff with determination until she scurries back his way.

"got it!" she squeaks with a smile, and to his surprise she jumps right into his arms with such nonchalance it nearly make him crumble on the spot.

your voice echoes in the back of his mind: "we will always love you, kento. unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"

"mama bought it for me," she explains, regaining her father's attention once more.

nanami rests his cheek on her shoulder, and inhales her powdery scent as he keeps one arm warmly secured around her waist. he watches her peel off the plaster of the band aid, lbefore grabbing his hand and placing it unevenly over his knuckles.

"now a kiss!" she adds, as she brings his hand to her mouth and exaggerates a loud "mwah" sound for emphasis. "mama says the kiss is what makes it all better"

nanami instantly feels significantly better from this remedy of love. he extends his digits out, and looks at the hot pink "hello kitty" band aid that now rests comfortably on his knuckles.

"thank you, my darling," he coos and peppers her cheek with a few kisses before turning her to face him once again. "you made me feel a lot better"

she flashes him an equally large smile in return, showing off her missing teeth.

"I did?"

nanami chuckles as he scoops her up in his arms to give her a well deserved bear hug. she laughs as he stands on his two feet, and sheds away any lingering thoughts of apprehension that may have stuck.

"you always do," he reassures, his soul vibrating back to life when he feels her return his embrace. “you think you can forgive me for how I spoke earlier?”

“yeah,” she confirms and squeezes him just a little tighter. "I love you lots, papa"

"oh, my angel," he hums, "you have no idea just how much I love you too..."

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

after winding down from your evening pampering session, you decide to pass by your daughter's room to check on your little family. you peer through the cracked door to find nanami spread out on your daughter’s bed, with your daughter curled into side and her head resting on his chest.

“did I come from a peach too like momotarō?” you hear her ask, but your heart flutters at the sight of your husband’s pearly whites.

you’ll never get over how much you love seeing him smile with such genuine emotion.

“no,” you hear nanami reply calmly, his finger lightly holding the page open. “you remember your mother explaining how you used to live in her stomach first?”

“oh yeah,” your daughter replies with a hint of disappointment over the fact that she was not birthed from a piece of fruit as mentioned in one of her favorite folk tales.

“shall I carry on?”

“uh-huh,” she answers and she readjusts her position to get even more comfortable. "I think if we look hard enough we might find momotarō..."

"you think so?" your husband wonders with honest curiosity.

"I know so, papa!"

"how many peaches do you think we need to check?"

"hmmm," she mumbles, "maybe a million?"

"a million?" your husband dramatically replies, "that's a lot of peaches don't you think,"

"I mean, it's less than a billion..." she responds quite matter of factly.

you catch his gaze from between the door that’s ajar. his expression fully relaxes, and you smile knowingly in his direction at the sight of father and daughter making up.

“papa?” his daughter questions upon his sudden silence, but your husband keeps his focus on you as he hums in acknowledgement before replying, "you're not wrong, but it'll still be quite a challenge to cut through a million peaches..."

"we might need some help," your daughter adds on.

you blow him a secret kiss as to not interrupt further, and quietly close the door before heading back to your bedroom.

[muzansfangs]

Immoral cravings.

Starring: Nanami Kento x f!reader; Toji Fushiguro x f!reader; Hiromi Higuruma x f!reader;

Format: short-imagines;

Warnings: nsfw, age gap but the reader is 21, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, creampie, dirty talk, unprotected sex, praise kink, size kink, daddy kink, semi-public sex, hair pulling, spanking, marking the partner, power imbalance, immoral relationships, morally grey decisions and men, revenge sex, slut shaming, choking, overstimulation, breeding kink, implied reference to pregnancy (Hiromi);

Plot: they are older than you and you both know your relationship is not exactly healthy. The charm of an older man, a real one, the allure of having someone you should not even think about in such a lewd way were unbearable thoughts weighing on your conflicted mind, though. You gave in, in the end, allowing them to ruin you in ‘worst’ way possible.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Nanami Kento.

You always pested him during his lunch break. At first, it was unintentional. You just dropped by your father’s office to check out on him, walking down the corridor with that ridiculously short skirt. You were a sinful sight for him. He tried to ignore you, going as far as keeping on working and not flicking his gaze up to greet you.

However, not averting his eyes from the screen to soak in your curves was impossible. He started to loathe your beauty. The sound of your voice was enough to make his pants feel too tight. He did not blame you for striking up frivolous conversations with him, or wearing such provocative attires, though. At least, he did not accuse you of messing with him until he realized you had got the hint of what you were doing to him.

You turned into a pest.

Hopping onto his desk, defiant smile gracing your glossy lips, you made sure to spread your legs enough to let him catch a glimpse of your panties. Those stupid white panties, evoking purity and virginity. Did you think you could fool him? You were far from being a celestial being. You were a freaking demon relentlessly testing his nerves. But he was done with you and your pathetic entr’acte.

You were soon going to deal with the painful problem you caused him every single time you casually waltzed into the office with the only intent of driving him mad.

His hand latched onto the back of your neck, pushing your cheek against the mirror in front of you, was the clear sign of how much you had pissed him off. Your skirt hiked up to your hips, as your hands were firmly curled up around the edge of the sink, you let a strained moan leave your lips for a particularly hard thrust hitting your g-spot.

You had lost the count of how many times he had made you come, milking his dick deliciously to make it up for the pent up anger you had caused him.

“What is it? Don’t tell me you can’t take it” he growled, his lips fanning your earlobe as he geave your hip a squeeze, probably hard enough to leave some purple bruises in the shape of his fingerprints.

Your vision was blurry, as tears of pleasure brimmed up in your eyes, your make-up ruined at this point. His thrusts were punishing, the sound of his thighs smacking against your ass was so lewd you almost felt ashamed of yourself. Yet, you could not deny you had been craving him since the day your father introduced you to the workaholic Nanami Kento. The thought of him fucking you to oblivion had almost become obsessive at some point.

“Ngh— It’s too much, Kento” you whimpered, only for him to tangle his fingers through your hair and giving your strands a rough pull.

Mouth agape, cheek leaving the cold surface he had squashed your face against not too long before, you watched the man behind you stare daggers at you through your reflections in the mirror. You were a mess. Black lines of mascara staining your cheeks and your hair unusually disheveled were enough to make your stomach churn.

If your father found out about this you were screwed. Quite literally.

“You are taking it like the good little slut you are. Listen to this. — he rasped out, dragging his length a little slower down your dripping cavern to emphasize the squelching sound of your mixed juices — You are soaked, sucking me in so good. Be a good little girl and let me finish, hm? That’s what I deserve after enduring a painful bulge for six hours every fucking day” he stated, before pulling out of you until only his tip was buried between your folds.

You tried to open your mouth to speak, but when he snapped his hips forward, earning a scandalous high-pitched moan from you, nothing came out if not pleas.

“Gosh! Kento, o my God… It feels so good” you whined out, squeezing your eyes shut as you let him thrust into you once again, resuming that torturous pace that had knocked the air out of your lungs.

The blond man grunted, his cock twitching into you as he approached his incoming climax. His lips found the crook of your neck, nibbling and sucking on the skin as he even praised you “So beautiful, so obedient. You’re a good girl, after all” he chimed, before he stilled into you and filled you up.

Your inner walls tightened around him, your orgasm meeting his one as he held you close to him. It was not just hate sex. He wanted you. You were his precious doll. He wondered how was it even possible that his boss had given life to such a pretty, lovely girl like you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, before your dad comes back from the lunch break” he whispered, pecking your cheek.

Toji Fushiguro.

He had overheard you complaining with his son, Megumi, countless times before you ultimately decided to break up. You two had your fair amount of problems, naturally, but there was one that had made Toji grin from ear to ear. Being into a relatioship with his son for four years had made you pretty comfortable around his shamelessly handosme father too.

Since you often slept over, Toji had suggested you to leave some of your belongings over. Back then it had sounded like a good idea. However, now that Megumi and you had, not so suprisingly, parted roads, you needed to get your things back and forget about that failed love story once and for all. You did not want to cross paths with Megumi and texting his father to ask when you could drop by to collect your stuff, without stumbling into your ex, was your only option.

When he told you Megumi was out for dinner with some friends, you did not hesitate to show up at the door with an empty box between your hands and an apologetic expression plastered over your face.

That gorgeous face of yours, your soft eyes and your sudden bashful attitude were such a delectable sight for Toji. He was shirtless, like most of the time, causing your cheeks to heat up and your eyes to rake down his abs not so subtly. Was it not immoral and pitiful to thirst after your ex’s father? Most definitely, but you were not in the mood to self-deprecate.

Not when, five minutes later, you ended up sobbing on a picture of you and Megumi eating cotton candy together six months before. You had loved him so unconditionally. You had spent the best years of your life with him, feeling glad every single day for having met him. But everything ended, right? Good things were not an exception to that rule.

Hearing your cries, Toji walked up to you, spotting your frail frame sitting on Megumi’s bed and crying your eyes out. What a perfect occasion for him to sneak his arm around your waist and drawing soothing circles on your back. Toji was not an overly affectionate man, not even with his son.

But he was there for you.

You did not even realize how it happened. All you knew was that, after drying up your tears with his lips, Toji was hovering over you. Your shorts had been tossed across the room, as his large hand had slithered down your stomach and past the hem of your panties.

His fingers, plunged deep into your core, stretched you out so deliciously, stimulating all the right spots to make you moan out in pleasure. You hated yourself for having made such a comparison, but your mind kept on screaming Megumi had never made you whimper like that, not even when he was sheathed deep into you.

“Fuck it, you’re so tight, baby. That stupid son of mine could not even fuck you good, right? — Toji cooed, his tongue invading your mouth to swallow your moans with a fiery kiss — Not even when he was balls deep into you? Tell me you want my cock, tell me you want me to stretch you out and I will” he allured you to give in, watching how your thighs quivered and your hips bucked up.

How could Megumi be that dumb to let you go?

“Please, Toji, please…” you meekly choked out, as he sighed and withdrew his fingers out of your soppy cunt.

You whined almost in contempt, but then you watched as he leisurely hooked his thumbs underneath the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, dragging them down his muscular thighs, and your jaw went slack. His cock slapped up against his V line, veiny, girthy, making your mouth salivating.

“Let me make you feel like a woman. Spread your legs, pretty girl. Daddy’s coming for you” Toji instructed you, making you shivers and wonder what Megumi would have thought of you, if he caught you impaled on his father’s cock.

Your eyes darted on Megumi’s picture on his nightstand and shamed washed over you. No, no, you had to focus on Toji, not on Megumi.

“Oi, eyes on me. Don’t think about that boyfriend wonnabe” Toji scolded you, grasping your jaw roughly as he ran his the head of his cock down your slit to collect your juices.

You swallowed forcefully down, nodding your head as he grasped your ankles and settled them on the top of his shoulders. The touch of an experienced man could not be nearly be compared to that of a twenty-one years old man. Toji knew how to please a woman. The stretch was almost painful, but as he fucked you like that, folded in half, you saw the stars.

You squeezed his dick perfectly, your warmth engulfing him like a glove, as he groaned out in pleasure with every thrust.

“Look at you… So cute and going cock-drunk so easily. No, it’s not going to be the last time we do that, alright? I need to breed that sweet pussy of yours” he huskily said, grasping your lower lip between his teeth and tugging at it gently, asserting once again his dominance over you. Your orgasm, a powerful one after so long, came as a blessing, leaving your body numb.

Too far gone to articulate a speech, you nodded your head, while his hand wrapped around your neck and he finished into you after a few more sloppy thrusts.

You had no idea of the satisfaction he felt in watching his cum leaking out of you and staining his son’s bedsheets. Maybe, just maybe, he had thought about leaving it there for him to understand what his ex girlfriend and his father had been up to while he chewed on some insipid noodles.

Hiromi Higuruma.

He had always been there for you. Your father’s best friend, Hiromi Higuruma, was the man he trusted blindly around you, his daughter, his pride and joy. Everyone in your family appreciated him. Growing up, you had almost lost count of how many times he had joined family dinners and road trips. He was always there for you. Nor you, neither him, though, would have ever thought that in the future he would have bent you over his desk and fucked you to oblivion, scattering the papers carelessly to the floor.

Maybe it was because of his visceral passion, when he talked to you about his profession as a lawyer, that you had chosen to enroll to the local Law School. Everyone, even Hiromi himself, were ecstatic about your decision.

But ambition had pushed you far from home, making you explore other countries as an exhange student. You missed your family, your home, but you soon realized you missed him too. Reading through your textbooks, crying over hard exams, studying to exhaustion, you only thought about him. You wondered if he was proud of you, or if he missed you as much as you missed him.

Sometimes you texted him, he replied almost immediately, congratulating you for your brilliant career. You had become so beautiful. When your father showed him pictures of you, your body blossomed into that of a woman, he found himself cursing his name for the dirty remarks popping out in his mind.

The day you knocked on his office’s door, Hiromi lost the last shred of dignity left in him. You were astonishing, finally an adult young woman exuding a cunning aurea and charm. That tight black skirt and matching high heels you were wearing made his mind spin.

“My father told me you could teach me a thing or two. I’m struggling with a case” you started, your mild voice sounding like a wicked melody he would have listened to forver. He was rational. He knew he should have sent you away before you ended up ruining your relationship, but he could not bring himself to do it.

Human cravings demanded to be satisfied.

“Your father chose the right man for this task. By the way, you look stunning, if it was obvious” he remarked, clearing his throat and closing the door behind you.

The way your red-painted lips parted, your back straightened, while he led you down towards his desk gave away how you felt. He knew people’s reactions, he had seen enough victims and criminals, liars and murderers struggling with feelings in his life to say you were trying to camufflate how you felt or why you were there in the first place.

The moment you began skimming through your documents, all dolled up and finally a colleague, Hiromi fought his dark impulses. You would have looked so pretty bent over his desk, your ass squeezed in his calloused hands, as you moaned out for him.

Two hours into arguing over the best strategy to save your client from jail, his hand suddenly latched around your throat, pulling you close to his body. The sudden action made you gasp for air and blush, but as your hand landed flatly over his chest, trailing down his pectoral, arousal made you press your thighs together. You were so close, the thin fabric of his shirt barely concealing the outline of his chiseled body.

His hand was still wrapped around your throat, his hot breath fanning your lips so hazardously. No, this encounter was not going to end like one of your typical catch-ups. No, this time you would have not said a cheerful, sweet and innocent ‘Bye-bye, Hiromi”.

This time you would have screamed his name at the top of your lungs so erotically that he would have filled you up until his cum dribbled down your inner thighs.

“Your father was right. I’m going to teach you a thing or two today” he murmured, capturing your lips with his in a fiery, passionate kiss. His grip on your neck did not loosen for a second, when his tongue pressed unceremoniously on your lips, parting them and delving into your mouth to involve you into a deeper and fervent kiss.

You whimpered, hands clutching his shirt into your hands as he finally gripped your hips, hand reaching up to unzip your skirt in a hurry. There was no time to waste. You had to be his, now and every single time you crossed roads. When his hands cupped your rear, he groaned, kneading it with passion, as he spun you around to bend you over the desk.

“Don’t worry. When I meet your father, I won’t tell him how I almost fucked a baby into you tonight” he sarcastically commented, unbuckling his belt smoothly as you eagerly slipped your thong down your legs for him. His words went straight to your core, riling you up even more as you smacked the papers and books out of your way to make room for yourself on the polished wooden surface of his desk.

“How many women did you fuck over here?” you asked curiously, glancing at him from above your shoulder.

Hiromi grinned and kissed your neck gingerly, while the tip of his cock teased your bundle of nerves and the area around your opening, not pushing in yet. You were the biggest mistake of his life, but also the most beautiful one. You were a goddess, a flower he had watched blossom, a passion he had nurtured in your last year far from home, from him.

“I’m the one who asks questions here. That’s a cross-examination, princess” he reprimanded you, before delivering a harsh spank that made your body jolt forward. The edge of the desk pressing against your lower abdomen made you suppress a soft wince of pain.

The moment he finally entered you, his cock stretching you out gradually and with care, you arched your back and allowed your insides to embrace him tightly, almost as if you were scared he was going to pull out.

“Fuck… Your pussy should be illegal” he groaned, gritting his teeth as he bottomed out. With your ass pressed up against his pelvis, Hiromi lavished praises on you and the blissful feeling you were gifting him with.

And at the end of his feral, dominant thrusts, he made sure to send you back home with a gift too. Warm, thick, his.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! I’m finally exploring the JJK’s field better. I hope you enjoyed this scenario. Honestly, writing this down was a little hard considering how many times I got hot and bothered. Older men have always been my type. Also, the legal shit in there had to be added because, since I study Law, I wanted to make justice to my baby Hiromi. Anyway, likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

Until next,

x o x o.

TAGS: @doumadono @axesfordays @brittscafe @flakeygod @gyomeisfavoritespermcell @kr0wu @bleach-your-panties @buttercupmuffins @rebwwca

[mo0nfairy]

ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ LET YOU BREAK MY HEART AGAIN !

summary :: together in blissful matrimony, miguel o'hara has never felt true happiness until he was by your side. when you're unexpectedly taken from him, he'll do anything in his power to avenge your death. what he doesn't expect is to find you during that process. or, at least, one version of you.

word count :: 2.9k

content warnings :: obsessive!miguel, yandere!miguel, death, deafness (reader is deaf & mute in one reality), spiders, marriage, gore, grief, noncon touching, drugging (venom is put into readers system).

authors note :: Y/H/N = your hero name.

miguel o'hara's yandere traits are . . .

smothering, territorial, & paranoid

──── The gentle melody of piano and harp paint the room in an array of romantic hues. Snow drifts through the Winter air from outside the frozen windows of the venue. Family and friends stand around and admire the beautiful scene before them. You're adorned head-to-toe in white, like an angel who had just descended from the clouds. Miguel is dressed in the finest suit he searched high and low for to ensure it was perfect for this day. However, he knows no one is paying attention to him when you look as breathtaking as you do. His rough-skinned, yet gentle-mannered hand rests on your lower back, the other interlocking your hands together. With your head resting against his shoulder, he sways your body along to the gentle hum of music pervading the air.

Your first dance.

The golden light from the chandelier above serves as a spotlight for you and Miguel. Feeling his chest begin to shake, you move your head to look him in the eye. Tears of sheer happiness were cascading down his cheeks and a weak smile is plastered on his face. You swear that if you were to look up 'devotion' in a dictionary, the way he is looking at you would take up the entire page.

Miguel briefly disentangles his constricted hold on your hand to express his current, overwhelming feelings. He points his middle and ring finger down, the rest of the digits left pointing up. "I love you," that is what he is telling you. When he had first learned you were deaf, he spent his nights studying ASL and SSL in order to communicate with you. However, that single symbol is the one he always finds himself reverting to when all other signs and words fail him. I love you, I love you, I love you. Although Miguel won't express it verbally, he will express the three words through his hands for as long as he lives.

And Miguel remembers the best day of his life just as much as the worst day.

Just one month after you had both gleefully tied the knot, the two of you had gone on a stroll through Nueva York. The moon hangs heavy in the sky and darkness settles against the faint streetlights. Miguel made the vow to always protect you and you've found it to be comforting, relaxing. After a whole lifetime of being deaf and mute, you knew that you were far more vulnerable than others. Knowing you have the Spiderman as your husband causes your concern of any potential assailants to fade away. It's evident in the way his grip on your waist tightens when passerbys walk by and the perceptible shift in his eye when someone stares at you for a little too long.

You've always known he wouldn't let anything happen to you.

The following events all happen quicker than either of you can think. Just as you're crossing the bridge that overlooks the entire city in all its glory, a sudden black hole forms, framed with iridescent hues and overwhelming force. The power of the portals sudden appearance causes the bridge to vibrate beneath your feet. Screams of terror from pedestrians falling to their death goes unbeknownst to you as Miguel holds you against him with constricted tension and hides your face in his chest. The man you have chosen to spend the rest of your life ignores his duty of being the city’s superhero. All in favor of your life.

The remnants of the platform you stood on soon crumble. The red glare of Miguel’s web shoots from his wrist, to where it wraps itself around one of the numerous pillars spread upon the bridge to ensnare you further. But it was so quick, the way you slip from his tenacious grasp. Almost as if someone had forcefully snatched you from him. Innocent civilians shout and plead for Spiderman to save them, but Miguel can't hear them over the thumping of his own heartbeat. Even if he were to hear them, it would not stop him from tearing this entire city asunder in order to get to you.

He forms his hand into the same sign he uses to say 'I love you' and another blaring-red web, the same hue as his panic, springs from him and down to wrap itself around your body. He's done this a million times for others and saved the lives of practically everyone in the city. But, this is you. Miguel is digging his claws into crumbled pieces of the wreckage and shoving them through the air as if they were merely nothing, all in favor of saving you. However, you're both picking up speed and accelerating closer and closer and closer to the unforgiving ground. He latches his talons into a protruding pipe caused by the chaos and clings tight to the web connecting you with him, watching in trepidation as you continue to fall. Attempting to pull the web towards him and bring you back into his arms, where you belong, his efforts were futile.

A loud crack! permeates and his world falls apart.

Practically faster than light, Miguel is pummeling to the ground and to where you now lay. Your chest is flat with no breath and your body is lifeless. Blood is caked on your skull and it cascades onto the pavement beneath you. He rushes to your side, a mantra of ‘no’’s invading the dead, silent air. His heart is paralyzed in his chest as reality sinks into his bones. Desperate pleads escape through loud, violent sobs, begging for you to just open your eyes, hold your hand up, and tell him 'I love you, too'. He knows you cannot hear him, he knows this. But, this does not stop him from begging you, begging God, begging the universe, begging anyone to not do this to him, to not take away the only thing that has ever mattered to him. The only thing that has ever made him happy.

He'll never forget how he had stayed there for hours, ensnaring your lifeless body in his arms as the night faded into dawn. He'll never forget when he left you through brute force and was sent back to the desolate building he could only call home when you were in it. He'll never forget how he had spent days upon days studying the sudden black hole that formed and declared to destroy whoever caused it. The person responsible had taken you from him and if every soul in the galaxy has to pay in order for him to avenge the only one he loves, then so be it.

A year had gone by and every second without you become more tortuous than the last. Things that made him once glisten with joy only make his empty heart lurch with grief. Miguel is now present in the Spider-Society, desperate to manipulate any and all sources to eradicate who had so selfishly taken you from him. He'll just have to endure the yapping teenage-spiders that push at his buttons for the time being. All for you, he reminds himself.

At times, unbeknownst to Miguel, he'll start mumbling your wedding vows under his breath in front of the other spider-people to ease his mind. He knows it by heart; he will never forget it. They may all stare in disturbed confusion, but to mention your name to a man like him would be nothing short of a death sentence. "It's a soft spot, don’t poke it" Jess informs the others.

When the day is finally over and his everlasting efforts were brought to no avail, Miguel will return to the house you had planned on spending the rest of your lives in. Together. All life has been sucked out of the property. The wedding photos scattered about the premise have been derelict with shattered glass after enraged fits. The 'Just Married!' paint still sits on his car and decays with age, but he refuses to ever scrub it off. Your wedding ring, wedding dress/suit, and flower bouquet sit in indestructible cages he operated to preserve them. He fidgets with the wedding ring he vowed to never take off as he wallows in the despair of his silent home. If only he had been quicker; if only he hadn't been so weak.

The video of you dancing in matrimonial bliss ends and the monitor shuts off faster than Miguel could even blink.

The hefty, metal doors to the headquarters open to where several spider-people enter, pantomiming dramatically about the success of their previous missions. Their sudden appearance startles him, to where he demands to know why Lyla hadn't informed him of the spiders' incoming. Jess then enlightens him on his strict rule he set to not disturb him whenever your face is on screen. He exhales with a sigh of defeat and prepares himself for the onslaught of mayhem that would soon come his way. This time, however, a new recruit has joined the group.

Full-body suit hiding any form of physical identity and a soft voice that rarely comes out, Y/H/N from Earth-555 was requested to join the team by Jessica Drew herself. And Miguel couldn't care less if he tried. He'll let another spider on the team if it means keeping the multiverse stable and fueling his progress to one day finally kill the one responsible for your demise. Still, something allures him about this new recruit. Their real name and face are left a mystery to him, but there are certain moments with this stranger where he can't but be reminded of you. That soft voice and heedful hearing prevent him from fully indulging in your memory, but there are certain tics and habits they possess that catch him off guard.

The way you tap your feet when you’re focused, the way you scratch your wrists when you’re anxious, and the way you fidget with the hem of your clothes when you’re bored. And this is what life had been like for a while. Staring at the countless monitors that display a myriad of different information until his brain rots and returning hole to bathe in his misery until the next day repeats.

Several months into Y/H/N's time here is when the doors to the headquarters slam open and several spider-people all clamor in. All were breathless and bruised from a mission that ended messily. The new hero is in the mayhem, as well, exasperated as they rest against the wall. Miguel rolls his eyes at the sudden intrusion and leaves his spot at his desk to find out what these idiots had done now. They all scramble to defend themselves and point their finger at one another, while that new recruit is still trying to catch their breath in the corner. Pathetic. They should know by now that the sake of the multiverse can't afford even a minor mistake. Seeing them left so weak after a fight causes a dry laugh to escape his throat.

Their gloved fingers then grasp hold of the hem of their mask, before forcefully yanking it from their head. And it is like a miracle had materialized right before Miguel's eyes.

His stomach drops at the sudden intrusion of emotions. Shock, elation, disbelief, infatuation. Y/H/N, Earth-555's Spiderman, is his Y/N. You stand before him as you did all those years ago. Despite the dirt and blood smothered into your exposed skin, Miguel thinks you look almost as beautiful as you did when you walked down the aisle.

All you do is clench your eyes shut and try to wait for the pain in your abdomen to ease. The clattering arguments of the others only add fuel to the flame that is your suffering. Soon, there is a sudden wave of silence that washes over. Even with the agony coursing through your body, you were still able to catch the abrupt shift in the atmosphere. You open your eyes to find the man you had feared most, Miguel O'Hara, treading towards you and towering over you with his large figure. Paralyzed with fear, you had jumped to the conclusion that you had enranged him in some way. The terror is so overwhelming, you completely miss the sheer look of love in his eyes and how his pupils had morphed into the shape of a heart.

Eventually, you gain control of your numb body and make a break for it. Pain pumps like a drug through your damaged body, but you persevere and use every sliver of strength left in you to run from him. You're running through the city, dodging past all the numerous spider-people, and webbing through different buildings to escape this maniac of a man. During this, your name and demands for your return are shouted profusely. You don't have time to acknowledge how on Earth he had found out what your actual name was.

Mistakenly, you take a quick glance over your shoulder and almost shiver with fear at the sight alone. Miguel is barrelling after you on all fours like some sort of fucking animal, with fangs and claws out and all. Broken glass protrudes into his limbs from the numerous windows and walls he barreled through. Blood seeps through the torn cuts of his suit, exposing his bruised skin. The excess of vermillion webs clutters the complex from his frivolous attempts at retrieving you. It is utterly terrifying.

Somehow in the midst of chaos, you had found yourself back in the headquarters. The 'Go-Home Machine' practically calls out for you with its luminescent hues. You hear the muffled shouts of your name and the thumping of racing footsteps. In an attempt to use your webs for faster travel, you realize that during your chase, you had entirely run out of web fuel. Shit. From here, you resort to using your legs for once and practically throw yourself into the machine. The translucent spider above uses its limbs to piece together bits of the portals' walls as if it were merely stacking legos. Hope pokes at your brain, but you don't dare let yourself think the storm had washed over just yet. A deafening crash then permeates through the headquarters.

"STOP THEM! NOW!" The echo sends a chill straight into your bones. You watch the machine sputter with increased energy and hope that with enough time, this predator on your tail will find something else for dinner.

Miguel springs into the air as if he were weightless, before landing above you on the thick facade while it buzzes from heightened energy. You have nothing but this wall to protect you from this absolute rabid dog. Sheer trepidation caresses your skin with it's ice-cold touch as he attempts to claw through the membrane of space and time protecting you.

He is bone-chillingly terrifying as he slams all the strength in his body against the barrier. It becomes increasingly difficult for him to keep his grasp on the machine as it continues to charge with intensifying energy. This does not halt his efforts, though. If anything, Miguel has now become increasingly aggressive as the prospect of you leaving him again becomes more profound. The technology whirs from every punch and thrash Miguel gives in order to get to you. Static bolts of energy protrude the air like lightning bolts when he is finally able to tear a hole through the surface, eyes wide and crazed like some sort of beast.

In an attempt to stop him, you try and piece together the chunks of radiation that had been discarded from his unwanted entry. Upon doing so, Miguel is finally able to reach through the opening and dig his talons into your wrist. Your escape was right at the edge of your fingertips, but now you have been flung straight into the jaws of this monster. You splat harshly against the ground and with the state your body was now in, you knew for certain you could not fight anymore.

However, you don't even have a mere second to think of leaving anymore. Not when this vampire-spider has you pinned to the floor with ease faster than you could produce a single thought. He begins to shush you like a baby while you fight and thrash at his chest. His large hand cups your cheek with the same softness you would use to handle a kitten, while the other utilizes his strength to restrain your body.

"I got you! I got you back with me!" The pitch in his voice had raised as he pours his heart out to you. "I never thought I would see you again, but you’re here. My Y/N, you’ve come back to me…” Red eyes are blown wide and they practically stare daggers into you. All as if you were some sort of prey.

The only thing his words do justice in is confusing you further. What you had perceived before as anger was actually... Desperation? Relief? Love? This man has never spoken a single word to you for the entirety of your several months spent in the complex. You are perplexed as you try to think of what had triggered him to suddenly act this way towards you.

"I will never let anything happen to you again... Just let me under your skin..." Miguel's lips find their way down to your ear as he whispers to you the same way a lover would. The entire moment is so deranged, it makes you shudder with horror.

His teeth then sink into the nape of your neck as if his fangs were two needles. With a yelp, you feel warm blood escape and seep down your flesh. Something new swims through your bloodstream that was induced by his bite. Your body begins to fail you and lethargy envelops you like a warm blanket. And this man is like goddamn Dracula, slurping and drinking every last drop of your delicious essence. His calloused hands savor the feel of your body against his and he indulges in how much he had missed this, missed you. With a final, feeble attempt to defend yourself against your assailant, you're soon enveloped into a deep slumber within Miguel's embrace.

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 ۫ you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

❝ ONE DAY, I WILL STOP

FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOU . . . ❞

i wrote this all in one sitting after an all-nighter please bare with me lmao.

did you guys also know that the pupils of his eyes canonically turn into hearts?

[navybrat817]

I need Bucky to blow my back out. 😮‍💨

Don't we all, nonnie?

You Asked for It

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Over 700 Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, dirty talk, slight breeding kink, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: We'll call this a Wet Wednesday blurb.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“I’d be better if Bucky blew my back out. How are you?”

You’re certain he doesn’t hear you say that in passing to Natasha after she asks how you’re doing, but super soldier hearing and whatnot. He smirks when he repeats the words in his head. The Sergeant may be an old man, but he isn’t that out of touch. He knows enough that you need him to pound your pussy and fill you to the brim. Fuck you so hard and so good that you won’t be able to close your legs or walk by the time he’s done with you.

Dirty girl.

He takes it as a compliment that you need his cock to have a better day and he’s more than happy to take advantage of that. And why wouldn’t you want him? You both know you have a greedy cunt and find any excuse under the sun for him to be inside you, your body always wet and ready even when he doesn’t stretch you out.

Not that he’s complaining. He’s shocked he doesn’t have a permanent hard-on with you around. Your pussy is the gateway to heaven, miliking him for all he’s worth. Because isn’t it a form of worship to paint your wet and quivering walls with his seed?

So later once he has you in his bed where you belong, he spends a minute just looking at your twitching hole as he spreads your glistening folds. His cock throbs and he doesn’t waste time making you beg. Instead of splitting you open the way he wants to, he slowly and deliberately slides into you inch by inch. You welcome him home with whimpers and sighs.

He wants to fuck you until you cry how much you love him.

But he doesn’t move once his hips are flush with yours, giving you a smirk at your dazed and confused stare.

“You know,” he begins, tracing a wet finger along your cheek as you try to wiggle your hips. “If you wanted me to pound your sweet little pussy so bad, all you had to do was say so.”

You narrow your eyes and purposely clench around him, almost hard enough to make him throw his head back. “Then do it, Barnes.”

He feels all too smug when he pulls out and thrusts back in with enough force to make you jerk underneath him. “Should’ve put that pretty mouth of yours to good use first, but we have time for that later.”

For now, he gets to work.

It’s like time stands still when he pins you down and makes you take every single thrust. He can’t help but lean down to bite your bottom lip, wanting you lost in pleasure. “So fucking wet. Making a mess all over me. Fuck, you take me so well,” he praises, his gaze leaving your face only for a moment to watch your tits move.

Yeah, I'm fucking those later.

“Please,” you moan, trying to raise your hips to meet his. “Fuck me.”

“I am fucking you,” he groans, plunging himself deeper.

“Harder,” you beg.

You asked for it.

Minutes may pass. Maybe hours. But broken moans leave your lips as your pussy keeps opening up and taking Bucky in. Just like it was made to.

“Fuck, baby, I almost forgot what a slut you are for my dick,” he grunts before your eyes flash. You’re not quite cock drunk yet and he only chuckles when he thrusts harder, making your pretty eyes roll back. “Not just a slut. My slut.”

“Your slut,” you moan.

He glances down and watches how you swallow every inch of him. “Fuck yeah, you are. And you’re gonna take every fucking drop of me after you come,” he grunts. That has you moaning before he even gets a thumb on your clit, rubbing it in circles just the way you like it. He knows you’re on the verge of a powerful orgasm and wants it to consume you. “Come. Don’t you fucking hold back.”

He feels your release coat his cock as you scream his name, almost triggering his own as he tells you what a good fucking girl you are. But he’s not done yet. Not by a long shot.

He’ll blow your back out before the night is over.

And if you’re lucky, he’ll put a baby in you, too.

Um. Sorry? Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[anantaru]

Hi Yoru.

Which boys do you think would be most gentle during sex?

including. neuvillette, ayato

cw. soft dom, we love strong men being sweet, fem! reader

— ꒰ NEUVILLETTE ꒱

the iudex of fontaine neuvillette, who's each respectively admired and respected by the people of his nation.

indeed, he was a mysterious man in quite a lot of ways, and of course with this in mind— there came great responsibilities which the man made his priority to fulfill as good as he was able to.

until his dying breath.

to say that he was strong was a clear understatement, but even someone such as neuvillette can find himself rather fatigued at times, especially when he always tends to go well over his capabilities for the people around him.

it has not always been this way, however, whenever he found himself in an exhausted state of mind, he instantly comes rushing home to you, and neuvillette will not admit it, he simply cannot, but he had missed you so very much that it was burning a deep hole in his heart.

it's difficult to be vulnerable, and in the beginning he believed that being open and unshielded in front of you might make you view him in a different kind of light— because in his own very mind, neuvillette wanted, no, he needed to look powerful and almighty for your sake.

you are his everything, and he promised himself to never suffer from another loss in his life again, more so protect you to the fullest extent.

"ahh, it's okay," you utter in a sweet voice, instantly noticing how neuvillette's breathing hitched and his muscles relaxed, but you can more importantly feel the overeager acceleration of his hips grinding into your warm cunt, so eager it made you giggle,

"you're here now," your hands slowly cup his cheeks as he melts into your touch, a soft smile parting from his lips as neuvillette sighs in appreciation of you, "you're home now,"

now, heed yourself, because if you believe that you would be able to make neuvillette relax under this particular choice of words, you were clearly mistaken because with displaying it to him all exposed and while he pleasured you, infused with real desire, his heart burns through his strong chest as he let his lips trace the breadth of your cheek, lingering across your ear as his teeth sank into the nape of your neck, claiming you and deepening the approaching orgasm flooding through you from the very inside.

the greedy roll of his groin into your cunt was fast and ruthless, the repeated sounds of skin buzzing over skin slices across the shells of your ears as he begins to squeeze and knead the fat of your ass in his palms— to get a good hold on it, you know?

so neuvillette can twist and turn you against him as he pleases, fitting his hips in between your legs so perfectly that your walls shape a little too well around his throbbing length, his erection snugly tucked in as you pitch your hips up to receive his fast thrusts.

the way he handled you was interesting— both rough and soft that you're smiling from head to toe, the thought that neuvillette would never forget to be gentle with you despite the bundled up heat in his chest, he'd always fuck you right and nasty, his deep thrusts rattling through your skin that you think you'll bruise once he's done with you, your pitchy sobs uncontrolled at every draw his hips fucking you hard, plunging deep.

— ꒰ AYATO ꒱

the dizzying intensity of ayato's thrusts, the focused face when he grinds himself a little deeper in you, and lastly, the complete authority he held given his position were the key factors on your current state— his hands tight around your wrists, his dripping cock in a possessive hold that burned away the worries churning his mind and downed it to a single spark of nothingness, replacing it with deep need to feel and taste you all around him.

you'd think with all of this considered, most people honestly wouldn't believe that your boyfriend was actually anything else other than frightening and mysterious in his own rights— yet they do not know him the way you did, because ayato decided to show you his real, unprotected self.

when he comes home to you after a rough day consisting of his responsibilities, it was the best thing ever, something he was looking forward to each day— being enveloped by your warm hold while he nuzzles his face in the nook of your neck was the most soothing piece in his life.

your intoxicating scent and how you tasted would absolutely relax him— one kiss and he melts under your trace, although do not get fooled because it would also turn him on, your delicate touches and candid little kisses going straight to his cock like a strong bold of lightning of some kind, setting his loins on fire.

and ayato believes he must be dreaming when you finally lead him to the bedroom, carefully discarding the clothes he wore and taking your sweet time with undressing him, placing each individual piece next to you— never forgetting to be content when he exhales shakily at the way you soothed yourself on him, then he flinches when your cool finger pads slide across his strong abs, never stopping to admire his beauty like you completely worshipped him, just as much as he worshipped you.

with that out of the way, ayato's new choice of voice was low and commanding, it was mind altering to the point where it made a slight shiver manifest and run down your spine as he fills your cunt with the speed of lust and love.

your pussy was dripping through his shaft pistoling in and out until he's pushing hard and fast into you— both lost in the restless friction as you listen to the crumbling whimpers concealed behind his restless groans. your room was engulfed by the scent of sex and pheromones as you arch your back into his touch, your eyes drifting close on a fresh surge of lust splitting your pussy in half, head rolling aside in easy surrender.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[sh1-n0bu]

𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!

day 10: creampie with jing yuan from hsr

warnings: creampie, overstimulation, strap/cock traditions, praise, subspace, exhibitionism

notes: weird i’m starting to feel burnt out already

boring mundane talks, the usual annoying persistent people talking about the usual annoying politics and other boring topics. fancy robe and clothes wearing individuals with big names and seemingly important titles and position of power. yet they act like children on playground. shouting at each other, pointing fingers, name calling — no one really paid much mind during meetings like this between the seven arbiter generals.

and jing yuan was glad that no one does. who knows what they would say when they see his reddened cheeks, the constant movements of his thighs rubbing together to try and alleviate the pent up feeling of his leaking cock straining against his pants painfully. and the butt plug snug inside him, keeping your cum inside. preventing it from slipping out.

he couldn’t pay any mind to the meeting at hand. thighs rubbing together, lips pursed as he tries to muffle his needy whines. shit, you weren’t even in the room and he was acting like a damn cat in heat.

finally the meeting ends, making the general let out a sigh of relief and a groan of disappointment as he lays his forehead down on the table. shit, where were you? he was painfully hard, cock leaking against the insides of his pants and you weren’t even here to help him out.

it wouldn’t hurt, right? to help himself out for once. it wouldn’t hurt, right?

loosening his belt before taking it off, jing yuan slips a hand onto his pants, fingertips coming in contact with the but plug. muffling the whines threatening to spill out with his other hand over his mouth, he grinds himself down, trying to gain a bit of friction and to fuck your cum deeper into him.

aeons, where were you? he was getting so desperate and your seeds that you fucked deep inside him so hard and earnestly since last night was threatening to spill out. he needed you.

needed you right here beside him, whispering how filthy he was for enjoying something like this despite having a reputation to keep. needed your fingers slipping inside his cutely stretched hole, hitting that one spot that makes him cry and trash around. needed you to plug him up again with your big cock, fucking the cum deeper into his stomach where it had a small noticeable bulge that he covered with his clothes.

too caught up in his own fantasies and attempts at trying to keep himself quiet, jing yuan failed to notice that you had walked into his office. the door locking with a click! as you make your way to him. once beside him, you guide his hand off of the butt plug, instead bending him over on his desk. that seemed to snap him out of his thoughts.

“b-beloved! please… hurry. hurry! need you inside me… again. h-hurryyyy…!” the general whines deliriously, a hand going back and tugging on the fabric of your pants with urgency and shaking hands.

cooing soft words of reassurances, you eventually slip out your strap/cock. taking the butt plug out of his stretched hole, your hands spread his cheeks apart, watching with a chuckle as he complains of feeling so empty. a single glob of translucent colored fluid slips out, dribbling down to his balls. that was the sign you got to push your strap deep inside him in one go.

“h-hurry! hurry hurryhurryhu—UNGH♡︎!! gyaanm so good... so fucking full...♥︎” the white haired man squeals, glad that he could finally feel you inside him again. a shaky hand goes down to rest over his stomach, where the bulge was more evident now.

with a sly smile, delirious giggle and flushed cheeks with heart shaped pupils, jing yuan bucks himself back onto your cock.

“fill me up properly again, okay beloved?”

[justaaveragereader]

I Hate You

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Dom!Hwa, Toxic Hwa, Sadistic Hwa he’s just a huge red flag tbh , Mafia!Hwa, Hate Sex, Sub!Reader, Spit, Name Calling, Passing Liquid From One Mouth To Another, Degradation, Oral (Giving), Unprotected Sex, Cream Pie, Choking, Angsty, Manhandling, If I Missed Anything…👀Lemme Know👏🏼!

A/N: Hear me out…some about Hwa with a damn grill gone do it for me EVERY TIME! Him and that dang fur coat is giving mafia, if you disagree…you are blind. I was listening to Amy Winehouse ‘You Know I’m No Good.” and instantly thought of this for Hwa! Then I saw the unit pic him and Hongjoong took where Hwa is wearing black and white with that sleazy, smoldering look on his face and internally screameddddd! I swear ever since bouncy Hwa plagues my mind faithfully😔, I’m down bad fr. Also this isn’t fully proof read so if there is some mistakes…💀 my bad yall.

✍️Masterlist✍️

“Fuck you Park Seonghwa.” You spit through gritted teeth, both cheeks squished between one of his lackey henchmen.

“Give me the word boss, and I’ll end her pretty ass right here.”

Letting out a deep chuckle, man spreading even further in his chair, long brown fur coat draping against his seated figure. Letting out a click of his tongue. He snaps his fingers, the henchmen immediately let go of you. Your figure smacks the floor with a loud thud.

“You do have quite the mouth on you.” He says through laughter. Mocking you, like you are the scum of the earth. His eyes cut through you like sharpened glass. Your eyes shoot up briefly taking in his figure. Shirt unbuttoned right below his pecks, showing quite a bit of skin. Adjusting himself, you realize he’s bricked up against his jeans, the fabric dancing with different material down both pant legs. Was this fucker really getting off seeing you in misery?!

“I like them mouthy, it turns me on.” Getting up from his lax state in the chair, he makes his way over to you. You clench your face in disgust as he walks closer to you, shoes echoing with each step. You’ve seen this man in the daylight, and would never assume he was a monster by night.

His henchmen stand still almost like toy soldiers. Not daring to move an inch. This single man held so much power in just his aura it felt almost suffocating. Intoxicating…he’s got the type of power you could get drunk off of. Flicking his head to the side the group of men quickly file out. Leaving you and Seonghwa alone in the back of the warehouse.

“You wanted to see me.” He pauses his sentence, lifting his hands up, turning in a slow circle so you can soak in his full presence.

“Bask it in princess, because here I am, in the flesh.” He says almost too cocky for your liking. Smacking your lips at his over the top response. You roll your eyes, finding anything but him to look at, refusing to stroke his god-like ego.

“Now the real question is, I heard you were looking for big ol’ bad me.” He says through a pout, inching his way closer and closer to you. He moved swiftly, and was just as smooth as a snake.

Squatting down to your level, he places his hand on your jaw making you look at him. Your eyes burn holes into his. Lips drawn up tightly, almost snarling at him like you are kind of wild animal. Your veins can’t help but be filled with hate for this man. You hate that you seek him out, you hate how perfect he is in your eyes, you hate how he can do no wrong, you hate how hard you fell for him. You aren’t supposed to fall for a man like Park Seonghwa, no one was supposed to fall for a man like Park Seonghwa.

“Why are you looking for me? Aren’t you done with me?” He says nonchalantly. You feel like he’s spitting on you, like he’s showing you nothing but disrespect, like you mean nothing to him.

“Shut the fuck up.” You grit out, trying your best to move your face out of his grip, but he’s stronger than you. Making your head swoon with his strength, he was a no good for nothing man, but you were drawn to him. A true damsel in distress.

“Ooo I like when you talk nasty to me, it gets me hard. Real hard…” he says practically breathless, clearly he was turned on. He had been bricked since he saw his men toss carry your fighting body in the warehouse.

“I fucking hate you.” You spit at him. Words laced with venom. Laughing in your face, this was your routine with him. You say you hated him, how you weren’t looking for him, which lead to fucking, and him kicking you out. You’ve both danced with routine before.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop asking about me, stop looking for me.” He says kindly, but you know there is another layer to his soft spoken words. He's so unbothered at your hate for him, so sick and twisted in the mind that it fuels his body. Your eyes just cut to him, before rolling, darting away from him again. You didn’t want to admit out loud, nor give him the satisfaction of admitting that you were looking for him.

“Don’t look away from me y/n.” He states firmly. Gripping your face tighter, eyes flickering with games beneath them. Your eyes shoot back to him, almost annoyed at him.

“You hate me so much right? Then quit asking for me, quit looking for me.” He spits, making you wince after each word he speaks to you. Your eyes water slightly, moving your eyes to look to the side you were not going to give him any satisfaction.

“I hate you more than you can imagine Park Seonghwa.” Your whisper out loud, he can hear the broken record playing in your voice. The routine you constantly bestow on him.

“You know who I am, and you know just exactly what I do. So don’t shed any tears for me.” Shoving your face slightly back, he stands up, moving to sit back back on his chair. You watch as his fur coat sways from side to side as he plants himself on his chair. That crooked smile of his, gracing his face. You were disposable to him.

Your eyes watch his every move, popping open a bottle of liquor he takes a swig, shooting it down his throat like it was water. Smacking his lips obnoxiously, as he keeps eye contact with you. It was a battle in dominance that you knew you would lose. Leaning back in his chair, with the bottle resting between his legs. Your eyes slowly trace his body, soaking in every thing about this twisted man. Your body screamed for this man, your heart cried for him. You feel a flush of heat in between your legs at his cocky demeanor. With each sip of liquor he takes, he makes sure to keep eye contact with you while he shoots the tart liquid down. You catch a sly smile of his before he tips the bottle to slowly drip liquid down his chest.

With his head slightly cocked back he watched you through hooded eyes. His Matz neck tattoo sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Go on now princess, lick it up.”

You watched as the liquor ran down his body, drenching his neck and abdomen. Your eyes flicked down to his stomach, slowly traveling up his neck, meeting his eyes. Park Seonghwa was no good, you knew he was no good, hell, even he knew he was no good but that didn’t stop you. It didn’t stop the feeling of need growing in your core. With a smack of your lips you get on your hands, as you were still on the floor, slowly making your ways towards him, degrading yourself even further for him. Hands coming up to rest against his clothed thighs. Hard on staring you right in the face, thick at the base, with a lean to one side. Your fingers brush over it, trailing the thick vein that pulsates. His grin takes over his whole face, checkmate.

While he’s slack against the chair, man spreading so you fit in between his legs, he looks down at you. Grill twinkling in the poor fluorescent lights, he looks like trouble. His eyes say more than his own words do.

“Go on now sugar, be a good girl and put that tongue to use.” He says through a small chuckle, chest vibrating with each laugh.

“I know that pretty mouth is good for more than saying how much you hate me.”

You lick your lips slightly, before inching your body closer to his, your heated tongue comes into contact with his abdomen. Licking the liquor that remained there. The flavors makes your mouth water, while liquor was never your vice. Park Seonghwa was. He grips the handles of his chair, the feeling of your warm, soft tongue on his skin was like a reward. You were practically waving the white flag in his face. He won, he always wins.

Your tongue dips between each individual ab muscle, making sure not to leave any inch of skin uncovered. He tasted like heaven, yet you know this was far from it. As you inched further down his body you come right below his belly button. His happy trail right beneath your tongue, eliciting a loud groan out of him. He comes to cup the back of your neck, encouraging you to go lower. The fur from his coat tickles the sides of your arms, fingers on the button of his jeans, giving him a once over again you pop the button. Shimmying his pants down to his thighs his hard cock springs out, of course he was going commando. You stare up at him in disgust, jealousy lies beneath your skin.

His hand grips the back of your neck firmly, almost like he’s a mother cat, snatching his kitten up. He stares at you from beneath his nose. Taunting you, getting off at your misery. His member jumps slightly at seeing you in such a distressed state.

“I knew you were coming today ma. I knew you were going to warm my cock, so I thought why not forgo the boxers.”

You swallow loudly, gulping down the jealousy you were harboring. You should feel dirty, disgusted at the fact he knew you’d warm his leaking cock. Yet you can’t help but feel a swell of pride in your chest. He was waiting on you.

“You must’ve been pretty excited to see me.” You say, not looking him in his eyes but your voice gives you away. The small cracks and whimpers that leave your mouth are enough to know he’s got you in his trap per usual.

His black hair framed his face perfectly, the poor lighting made him look like he descended from heaven. Gripping his hard cock, you move the pre cum around the tip of it. Letting the back of your neck go, he leans back, watching the scene in front of him unfold. The feeling of your soft padded thumb on the tip of his head made him let out a groan. Black hair falling in front of his face.

Gathering all the spit in your mouth you slowly let it drop on his cock, the cool contrast to his hot member has him hissing, like the true snake he is. You lower your body, your soft lips engulf the tip. Giving it a few sucks, tossing his head back he grips the arms on his chair so tightly you watch his knuckles turn white. You look up at him through your lashes, it’s like he has sensors any time your eyes are on him. Biting his lip he says through a breathy chuckle..

“It’s been a while ma, take it easy on poor me.”

Your pussy flutters at the thought of him not giving himself to anyone but you, women threw themselves at Seonghwa, hell, even men threw themselves at Seonghwa. Times like this are when your head gets filled with disappointment but your heart gets filled with joy. Popping off his cock you lick a stripe up his leaking member, tasting the saltiness of him. Your mind clouds with thoughts…were you the last person he was with? Did he truly wait for you? The thoughts are too loud in your head, and Seonghwa notices. Brushing a thumb over your cheek, it breaks the spell on you. Crashing you down to reality.

“I’m not doing this.” You whisper out, brushing your hands off on his fur coat. You stand up, dusting your knees off. Looking him straight in the eye.

“I’m not dealing with your mind games Seonghwa!”

Everytime you raise your voice a higher octave his cock bobs up and down. The spit still pooling on his waiting cock, wrapping his own hand around it, he slowly strokes himself up and down watching your frantic figure yell at him.

“Mind games? What mind games?”

“Fuck you Seonghwa! You know exactly what I’m talking about! You fuck with my mind! You tell me to stay away from you but then you fill my head saying shit like ‘oh it’s been a while’, you know exactly what you do!” Yelling so loudly it bounces off the warehouse walls, echoing down the room. Not caring if his tin soldiers hear. Letting out a quiet laugh he looks up at you through hooded eyes, eyes so pitch black they swallow up his pupil.

“You know what I am, you know exactly who I am.” He says while continuing to stroke his cock, getting hard at the thought of you yelling at him, causing such a big fuss for lil ol’ him.

“You are such a piece of shit you know that?”

Biting his lip he leans forward, almost taunting you. Stomach muscles contracted with how fast he was close to reaching his peak.

“You are all bark and no bite, you hate me so much. Always screaming how you hate me but you always come crawling back. You hate me or you hate the thought of being without me?” He says matter of factly, hitting the nail right on the head. Steam is practically radiating off your body. Letting out a huff you march over to him, snatching the liquor bottle from his side, taking a long drink from it, before hovering over him. Sticking out his tongue, you let the liquor splash into his mouth, and down his throat. Shoving his upper body back, you slap his hands away. Shoving your pants down to your ankles before stepping out of them. Ripping the shirt over your head. Placing each of your thighs on the outer side of his legs, hovering over his waiting member.

“You taste so good.” He says through a whisper, licking his lips, drinking down any leftover liquid you splashed in his mouth. Grabbing the empty liquor bottle he takes another swig, groaning as you slowly lower your sopping wet pussy onto his waiting cock. He fills you wall to wall. Deliciously just like the last time. Gripping you by the back of your neck, he brings you close to his face, the tips of your noses brush against each other.

“You know I’m trouble, you know I’m no good, but here you are on my cock. Admit it baby..” he says, slapping your ass cheek real hard with his free hand. Bringing your naked chest to his own, the bottom half of his shirt brushes your lower stomach, making your body liter with goosebumps. He was practically fully clothed while you were stripped down for him.

“You hate me so much because I’m all you want.”

Pulling you back by the neck so there is distance between the both of you. His hand grips your ass, beginning to move you slowly up and down his cock. The fill of him has your mind on cloud nine. You want to wipe that smirk off his face but you know he’s right. Your heart tugs when he’s near.

“I’m all you need, you want me to survive. Think I’m going to run away with you? Hang this life up for you?” He says through grit teeth, ending his sentence with a slight laugh, mocking you. Not even sparing to sell you a dream because you’ve already sold yourself one. You should’ve known by now you can’t change a man, and he was not just any man. He was Park Seonghwa. You start working your hips to meet his thrusts, picking up speed as your walls get custom to his thick size in your cunt.

Squelching noises fill the warehouse, you both are breathing each other in. His eyes glimmer every time you slam your hips down on him. Tossing his head against the back of the chair, he grabs both of your ass cheeks slamming you down even harder into his length, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each slam. Tossing your hands on his shoulders to stabilize yourself while you bounce around like a doll for him. Letting one of your ass cheeks go, he grabs the bottle of liquor.

Pouring it on your naked chest, he sticks his warm tongue against your heated skin, trying to slurp up the liquor that’s coated on your flesh. His cool lips, mixed with his warm tongue, has you mewling. Gripping the sides to his chair, you bounce faster up and down on his cock. Leaning your head back, you are in heaven right now. Licking a stripe up your neck, he laughs into your neck. You can feel him pulsate in your soft walls. The coolness of his grill has your pussy clenching down hard on him. He’s so deep in you that you can practically taste him in your mouth. The pleasure bringing you a whole new feeling has your eyes filled with tears of pleasure.

“Talked all that shit earlier, look at you now, bouncing on my cock like you have no fucking sense.”

You let out a pathetic cry, tilting your head back you try to take in as much air as you can. Every stroke up it feels like he’s knocking your lungs loose, your body burns with the constant need of this man. Biting your lip you look down at him through your lashes, trying your best to keep your eyes on him, scrunching your face, attempting to toss him a smug glare.

“Go on baby..fu-fuck. Tell me how much you hate me, it makes my dick hard.” He grits out with a chuckle watching you bounce up and down on his cock. Your hips still at the tip of his cock, as he clutches your ass, pistoning into you. The wet sound of his cock hammering away at you, has your eyes rolling, you are on the brink of an orgasm.

“Oh my god.” You moan loudly, nails digging into his clothes shoulders. Diving his face into your chest, he sucks and nips your skin, leaving small marks behind on the plush of your breast. Your mouth falls open, jaw going slack. Taking the opportunity he places his pointer and middle finger in your mouth, tugging down your jaw with his fingers.

“You are a fucking dick head.” You mumble out with your mouth full of his fingers, drool begins to pour landing over your breast that are flying in his face. His eyes briefly roll back, letting out a groan he pulls you closer to his face by your bottom jaw, wiggling his fingers in your mouth.

“Awww I’m a dickhead, yet you are drooling all over this dickhead.” He says through a chuckle, one harsh particular thrust has you practically biting down on his fingers. Letting out a low breathy moan, he removes his fingers from your mouth crashing his lips against yours, his grill clinking against your teeth. His hands travel to your ass again bouncing you faster. Your toes curl on the sides of his thighs, his grip on you is bruising, the wet skin slapping against his upper thighs. Tears fill your eyes once more at your orgasm building up

“I told you I was trouble, you know that I’m no good but look at you, bouncing on my cock like a bitch in heat.” He moans against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip, running his tongue along it, the taste of him on your mouth was sending you over. Tears overflowing from the pressure build up.

“Go on, tell me how much you hate me.” He grits wrapping a hand on the back of your neck in a possessive manner.

“Because you do, right? Hate me so much you wanna cry on this cock every night.” Slapping your ass harshly, feeling his heated hand print stinging on your skin you let out a choked out moan.

“Go on, tell me, I wanna hear you say it again. It turns me on.” He moans out, hips continuing into you, tears stream down your face, landing on his heated skin.

“I-I ha-hate you.” You say breathlessly, gripping his shoulders tighter. Your orgasm is at its tipping point with the way his cock is brushing against your cervix. Slapping your ass hard once more.

“Louder!”

“I ha-hate y-.”

“I can’t hear you!”

“I fucking hate you Park Seonghwa!” You scream at your orgasm tips over, clutching your fists into his shirt, hips immediately stopping, you fall over into Seonghwa chest pressed tightly against his very own while his hips continue to slam into your sopping cunt, your juices rolling down, soaking his jeans. Tossing his head back, his grip on you is bruising.

“Fuck Seonghwa, please!” You whimper out, your body is overly sensitive after your intense orgasm, and his bruising pace is making you more delirious.

“Fuck! Yes, yes yes!” His yells echoing in the entire warehouse without a second thought. With one final slam into your cunt he’s cumming deep in you, hips jerking up every couple of seconds to make sure you take every drop of him. His hands jiggle the meat off your flesh, before lightly rubbing where his bruising grip was.

Your heavy breathes are all that fill the room, pushing off his chest slightly, you groan at the feeling of his cum trickling out of you and around his member.

“You are so fucking stupid. I swear you are.”

He looks at you with one eye open, while the other remains shut from his post orgasmic bliss. With a deep chuckle, he pushes his black hair out of his face. Grabbing your chin between his fingers, bringing you close to his face. You stare him directly in the eyes, before the shimmer from his grill catches your eye.

“If you want me again for round two that’s all you have to say.” He whispers against your lips.

“Oh please, I barely enjoyed myself.” You say shoving him back by the chest, carefully removing yourself from his lap. You can feel his cum start to run down your inner thighs. Cutting your eyes at him you tug on the sleeve of his fur coat. Barely moving an inch he laughs at your frazzled state, pulling up his pants he buttons them again, watching your naked body move around quickly to find your clothes and put them on.

Just as you are buttoning your own pants. You hear the warehouse door slam open, the orange fur from the coat immediately catching your eye. Hongjoong is back…

“Oh..did I interrupt?” Hongjoong says, clearly unamused at Seonghwas actions.

“Hongjoong! You’re back early!” Seonghwa says, voice full of cheer.

Buttoning your pants all the way up, turning around all they see is the back of your shirt and pants as you walk away, feet practically stomping with each step.

“Fuck you Park Seonghwa!” You scream out, echoing so Hongjoong can hear.

“Seonghwa..” Hongjoong says quietly scolding him.

“Oh don’t you worry Hongjoong, she’ll be back!” He yells loudly, making sure that you hear him. Turning around you flip him off before continuing to stomp out of the warehouse.

“She always comes back..” he whispers quietly to himself as he watches your fleeing figure.

DO NOT REPOST.

GIF made by @justaaveragereader

[rafesslxt]

✧.* 𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑶 𝑹𝑰𝑫𝑫𝑳𝑬 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵

[ aftercare ] ― he would cuddle you right after and clean you up depending on the mess you two made. I can also imagine him smoking a cigarette next to you If you‘re okay with that and If not he would cuddle you for a while and then stand up to smoke at the window – then coming back for cuddles ofc

[ body part ] ― he is a ass type of man to me. Always has a hand near your booty but also your face ? Like his hands would always stroke your cheeks and he would leave kisses all over it - oh and ofc he LOVES your pussy

[ cum ] ― he‘d go NUTS seeing you covered in it, marking you as his

[ desires ] ― He would go crazy for any kind of sort of begging from you - hearing your whiny voice begging him to do the filthy things to you he loves so much. Teasing him would also he a big turn on for him. Bending over things, accidently brushing your hand over his thigh near his dick

[ experience ] ― HONESTLY i know most of us like to think he‘s experienced and knows what he‘s doing bc he had mich sex before BUT I think a lot of girls would be terrified of him being the dark lord‘s son. So yes he is a natural and knows just what feels good, studying your reactions to his touch all night long but he would not have that much experience

[ first time ] ― Like i said he wouldn‘t sleep around that much so maybe it‘s with his first girlfriend or situationship he has with a girl he likes

[ grooming ] ― he wouldn‘t be very picky about how you groom as long as it‘s not completely out of control - he himself would make sure it‘s always clean and trimmed ? Idk man i never thought of that

[ horny ] Mattheo is a horndog 100%. And she wouldn’t even have to try since he would get a boner from almost everything she does. I think physical touch would be important to him since he never got much of it and also wants to try so much with you so he can win more experience to please you even better.

[ intimacy ] — Depends on what you like - he‘s a pleaser in my head so If you would want soft he would prepper you in kisses and praising words "you‘re doing so good baby i love you so much." but If you‘d like it rough he would dirty talk to you until your eyes roll back and manhandle you "fuck baby you feel my cock inside your belly? M' gonna fuck every other thought out of your head."

[ joker ] ― he could laugh when slmething clumsy happens but otherwise he‘d be more on the serious/passionate side

[ kinks ] ― Mattheo loves seeing u begging as i said but also is into you calling him daddy or sir, anything that makes him feel powerful. A kink he didn‘t know he had was his being sub. It didn‘t happen that often but he‘d enjoy it so much after like a rough week - you taking care of him and not judging but loving his little whimpers - also a little orgasm denial on you

[ locations ] ― literally anywhere - he would not give a single fuck If someone saw you two fucking as long as he can shield or hide your naked body - but If it would he a quiecky with him just sliding under your skirt he would love the drill of being caught and claiming you as his for other‘s

[ masturbation ] ― he‘s a horndog + single? Then he‘d masturbate quiete a lot but when he finally got you, he didn‘t need to anymore

[ no go ] ― anything that has to do with other people - he‘d be way too possessive and jealous for including someone else into your sexlife

[ oral ] ― MUNCH MUNCH MUNCH you cannot tell me otherwise! He would get drunk on your pussy, eating it out for hours sometimes. But he also enjoys getting sucked off by you too

[ positions ] ― he loves seeing your face twist in pleasure and your little gasps for air when he fucks into you. so anything like fucking you from behind but in front of a mirror or you riding him and trying your best bouncing up and down on him would do it for him - but I also think when the two if you argue and fuck he would push your face into a pillow while grabbing your hips from behind so you would shut up

[ quickies ] ― he‘d love them cause that means he get‘s extra sex in between classes, before quidditch training or studying

[ rounds ] ― i think his stanima is good like 2-3 long rounds before he would have to take his first break. Either he would smoke a cigarette or eat you out in the meantime

[ secrets ] ― he doesn‘t have real secrets since he‘s really comfortable with you

[ toys ] ― he would be confused when he first caught you with one - poor voy thinking you don‘t enjoy his cock but after you explain it to him he would use it here and there on you vut mostly just when he try‘s teasing and edging you

[ underwear ] ― he LOVES when you wear red for him, not caring what kind of underwear as long as it‘s red. He‘d also almost come directly in his pants when he notice you don‘t wear any under your skirt but would punish you still

[ volume ] ― Mattheo loves your loud moans and screams of his name, he would praise you so much for it and just gets drunk on your little whimpers for him - mattheo would also be quiete vocal always dirty talking to you or groaning at how tight you feel around him

[ watch ] ― he would never let anyone watch you - not even over his dead body but like i said before when you have clothes on and he slips under your skirt he‘d enjoy someone catching you two

[ xxx ] ― would only watch when he‘s single but even then not that often

[ yearning ] ― he would be the biggest tease ever! Stroking your inner thigh under the table in class or at dinner. He‘d tease you by whispering all the things he wants to do to you in your ear while all your friends are around, slowly brushing his hands over your clothes pussy when nobody‘s looking

[ zzz ] ― usually depends on his day. If he had quidditch training or was awake all night then he‘d be tired after it but otherwise he‘d kind of get his energy from fucking you

you do not have to agree on that – remeber he‘s fictional and that‘s MY opinion 🫶🏻

here‘s my masterlist If you wanna read more <3

taglist: @justarandomcanadiantransdude @sofa-couch26 @helendeath @thatonepansexual2000 @imabee-oralizard @supernaturaldawning @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username @jeannie-beannie @belle-blue @izriddle @kr-1-sta @sagetakami

xoxo sarah <3

[fuckmycrane]

Moon — Thomas Shelby.

— CW: 18+!, smut. breeding kink, (slight) housewife kink, mentions of kidnaping. Age gap. | word count: 1.7k. (not proofread!)

— a/n: I have no clue from where this came from. I'm not in the best mindset and this happened. This is also my first time writing for Tommy so don't hate me lol. This isn't canon compliant ig because I don't want it to be. I just want him so bad it's not even funny.

Vulnerability. 

It was a word he never thought he’d truly understand the meaning of. 

It was always meant to be a secret. Why? Because good things don’t last long— not for him. Never for him. 

And every time he is away from you, it is a constant heartache that not even the strongest alcohol or an insane amount of tobacco could ease. He wishes he could steal the moon from the dark skies of Birmingham and hand it to you, he knows how much you love the moon. Night after night, he raises his head to stare at it for hours, wondering where are you, if you are thinking about him as much as he is thinking of you.

Wondering if you love him as much as he loves you.

Love. Such a funny word. A meaning both so full and so empty.

He wishes he could steal you. 

He knows how much he loves you.

It is always better to be safe than sorry— that’s why he secluded you, and you understood. Perhaps it was the naivety granted by your young age, or maybe it was your blind love for a man who was doomed since the day he was born. Whatever it was, it kept both of your hearts attached, beating as one; watching the same moon.

He counts the days, the hours, and sometimes even the minutes; he is a smart man, he knows where you are and with whom, he knows what dress you wore and who you talked to. And he does it for love. Or even obsession. A strange urge that creeps into him every night when he thinks of you after a long day of work— an urge to be loved. He counts the days, the hours, and sometimes even the minutes until he is able to see you again. To hide under that perfect, warm blanket that is your arms, your kisses, your body. 

In front of your front door, he knocks even though he knows the door is open. He has guards on every corner, eyes on every window. He already lost too many precious things in his life. He can’t afford to lose you. He built you a house, a paradise for you to enjoy, cherish and take care of. He gave you everything you could ask for, even more. Growing up, you never experienced the same deficiencies and struggles he did, you never had to lift a single finger and that’s alright for him. Because on those days when he feels powerless and exhausted, he knows he can always ride back home, and regain that power by standing next to you. 

Home. Home. Home.

“Tommy!” The squeak of excitement makes the long trip worth it. Everything is worth it if it comes to you.

He hugs you, keeping you tight against his chest wishing he could stay that way forever, basking in your delicate soul, your selfless heart. Thomas calls your name in an affectionate way that no one could evoke in such a genuine way. He kisses you with such passion that makes your blood boil and your heart flutter.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, ignoring how his mind scolds him for the hint of vulnerability that laces his voice. 

Placing your hands over your stomach, his body tenses at the small bump underneath your expensive, tailored dress. “We feel good, we missed you— I missed you” You reply with adoration. He is finally here.

“I’m here,” He says as if you needed confirmation that he is in fact in front of you. 

“How is everyone?” 

“Good” He places a large hand over your stomach, rubbing it with his palm. “Ada keeps asking me when I will bring you back to Small Heath”

“And when will that be?” Your question gives him a pang of guilt. He wishes he could have an answer, his face says it all. “It’s alright, love. I understand things are… difficult”

“Enough about that” He breathes, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. He wants the distraction, he wants the warmth, he wants you. “I’m here to see my wife, not to talk about work”

With a giggle, you kiss him. “Fine. Whatever you want”

And he loves that. He loves how willing to please you are. He loves how you let him guide you upstairs, undress you, and adore you. Thomas’ hands caress the small bump in your stomach as he carefully lifts his hips to thrust deeper, enjoying every small moan and gasp. Normally he isn’t this gentle, but he will never harm you or your baby. With his occasional grunts and pants, he grabs your thighs, increasing his pace. Watching you bounce on top of him is a heavenly sight and is in these moments when he is sure you are an angel sent from heaven from him. He might not believe in God but whatever exists in this cruel world granted him with a Goddess.

“I m–missed you” You moan digging your nails into the pale skin of his shoulders. “I missed you s–so much”

That damn wave of vulnerability washes over him, the bed creaks with your combined weight, creating a delicious, sinful melody that he evokes on those nights when he is too desperate for your body and has to find relief in his own hands. 

His large hands cup your breasts, paying attention to your swollen, sensitive nipples. Thomas pinches them gently watching you tremble. He can already imagine them full and heavy, ready to take care of the baby that you are expecting— his baby. A louder groan falls down his lips at the thought. Such a wonderful mother you will be. Such a perfect, precious housewife. 

Such an angel sent from heaven.

“I love how you look” He confesses in a husky fashion, bouncing your tits in his calloused palms. “I can’t wait to see you— to see you all round and heavy with my baby”

His words send a shiver down your spine, clenching around him and making Thomas hiss from the raw pleasure of your tight pussy. “Please— don’t stop”

“I wasn’t plannin’ on, doll”

Thomas dares to increase the pace, using one hand to grope your ass to keep balance. Your moans also increase in volume, igniting the primal desire to claim you inside of him. “You are so fucking tight— I will fucking pump another baby into you as soon as you have this one”

You nod fervently, closing your eyes and scratching his chest. “Yes! I’ll have as many as you want Tommy— anything you want! Anything”

The loyalty he so loves. 

His lust wins over his composure for a moment, landing a sharp slap over your asscheek that makes you whine and clench again causing him to grit his teeth. He is aware of how much you adore it when he is rough with you, he thrives on the submission you gave him since day one. Unable to help himself, your husband slaps your ass repeatedly, relishing the cries of pleasure that call him like a siren to a poor, lost sailor. 

“Say you are mine” He grunts after another hard slap. He isn’t going to last any longer. Not with such a breathtaking view. 

“I belong to you!” You comply instantly. “I am y–yours! I’ve always been” He knows you are telling the truth. That’s why he had to take you away from your home, to manipulate you in order to give up your last name, to cast you under his spell— that’s why he had to have you since he first landed eyes on you. 

But at the end of the day, he was the one wrapped around your finger.

He is the one wrapped around the velvety, soft walls of your cunt, squeezing him for dear life and silently begging him to breed you, use you, claim you…

Love you.

With a strained cry, you come around him. He could watch you unravel on top of him for hours— in fact, he has.  Your movements were slow, deliberate, and intense. He could feel his breath hitch as you moved, and his heart raced as you arrived at your climax. His gaze was unwavering as he watched you ride out the waves of your pleasure. Thomas followed you seconds after, moaning your name under his breath; he fills you up just the way you both adore, it’s evident that when the hours pass, time is the only thing left to waste. Panting above him, he carefully settles you next to him, spooning you and keeping his softening cock inside of you. This is how he wants to end every day, to wake up every morning. 

Kissing your sweaty neck, he breathes you in, memorizing your scent once again. He knows his time with you is limited before someone notices his absence and begins to track him. Thomas needs to be two steps ahead of anyone. Your soft giggles make him smile, a genuine smile that feels so foreign to him. Under the darkness of your bedroom, his hands caress your hot skin, providing you with the heat and care he knows you crave. 

“I love you” You whisper, closing your eyes and falling asleep rather quickly. He listens to your heavy breathing, peaceful and unbothered; and that’s how he wishes it could stay forever. Away from worries, stress, fear. 

“I love you, more than you can imagine” He musters, hiding his face on the crook of your neck.

It’s true. Because love is such a funny word that gives him such a funny feeling. 

A warm, fuzzy feeling.

He opens his eyes, raising his head to look at the windows. The curtains are wide open, the weak glow of the full moon casting a divine glow over your naked body. His lips land on your shoulder, allowing the sensation to wash over him. It's a moment of peace and serenity, a moment in time that will never be forgotten. A moment he doesn’t want to end. 

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he will bring you back where you belong. It doesn’t matter the consequences, it doesn’t matter if the whole world finds out Thomas Shelby was the one who kidnaped Jack Nelson’s younger sister. As long as he has you, he is alive.

And he swears it to the moon.

[moonlitnyx]

"𝙒𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝘽𝙀 𝙈𝙔…𝙑𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙀? 🥹"

How do you celebrate Valentine's Day with your boyfriends?

ft. AVENTURINE, VERITAS RATIO, ARGENTI x GN Reader

content. SWF, very much fluff!! Reader's in a relationship with the characters, No confessions just how they spoil you during Valentines Day, :> Ratio is mentioned as Veritas because how am i suppose to write "Dr. Ratio" with a straight face

notes. Can u tell im single because of how im writing fanfic for fictional characters on Valentines day? 🤡 Wish i could've added Sunday but I want to get to know his character better before writing him <33 my pookie <33

ft. AVENTURINE

When it comes to Valentine's Day, Aventurine can be a bit excessive...

It's not like you don't appreciate the gifts that he gives you, but the prices always make your jaw drop. What do you mean he got you 20,000 credits worth of roses just for you? They don't even look that special to begin with!

And don't even get started on all the cheesy things he do for you. The amount of chocolate he gets you, or when he takes millions of pictures with you with his "professional photographer" and pick the worst photo of you to put in his wallet is just one of the million things he does that day.

"Aventurine!" You whine, trying to pry out the photo of yourself and him out of his gloved hand. "Your not seriously planning on using that photo!"

Aventurine cocks his head, feigning innocence as he asks sweetly, "What's wrong with it, babe? I think it looks cute!"

"CUTE? I look like I'm about to sneeze!" Your baffled expression makes Aventurine laugh, his hypnotic amethyst eyes twinkling with amusement.

"That's what makes it cute." Aventurine giggles as you make a face.

ft. VERITAS RATIO

Honestly, the first time you celebrate Valentines Day you tried, and damn did you try, to Veritas to enjoy the holiday

You had taken him to a carnival and had even won him a huge teddy bear, taken him to dinner, bought him roses, (tried) to feed him chocolate. But he was tougher to crack than an oyster

However, he was nice enough to give you a perfectly scripted thank-you note, giving his gratitude for the stuffed teddy that you got for him. (You saved that note in your drawer, cherishing it like a sacred tome)

"Soooo," You grin, eyes alight as you giggle. "has this movie effectively swoon you over with the power of love?" In your hand dangled the remote for the T.V, as you lounged on the couch next to Veritas.

"Get that silly grin off your face." Pink eyes glared at yours with annoyance. "Sometimes I even wonder why I'm dating an imbecile such as yourself."

"Oh c'mon! I thought I saw a glimmer of a teardrop in your eyes when we were reaching the end of the film." You fold your arms across your chest, a slight pout on your face as you lean into him.

Veritas rolled his eyes, but a fond smile played on his face as he saw you pout, squeezing your cheeks as he mused, "It was amateur, at best."

ft. ARGENTI

Bro goes above and beyond when it comes to Valentine's Day, like seriously! He picks you roses, makes you your favorite meals, composes sonnets, and even though his actions make you roll your eyes, it also makes your cheeks heat up.

He's sweet, always trying to make you feel loved, and thats why you want to make him loved too on Valentine's Day. He's always so self-sacrificing that sometimes he doesn't care much for himself.

"I-I got you a gift!" Your face is heating up, your hands warm and clammy as you produce a box of chocolates out of your bag and presenting it to the red-haired man.

"Y'know, I'm very glad that we're dating...because your the best thing that happened to me! And I just wanted you to know how appreciated you make me feel and-" You stop as you watch Argenti's pale face flush red, green eyes filled with fondness.

"I made it myself, so it might not be the best, so if tastes weird just throw it out!" You began again, but Argenti cuts you off.

"No, no, it's perfect." A warm smile graces his face, lips curling at the corners as he stares at the box. "The thought of you spending so much time on me makes my heart almost burst."

©moonlitnyx. do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[jinkicake]

~ ♡ Late Night Visits ♡ ~ 

(( Day #2 )) Aizawa, Dabi, Hawks, Shigaraki x Reader

A/N: i havent written for these losers in months and I haven’t even watched the new season yet but I've seen pics and that’s enough for me.... i had to write for the dilf, the arsonist, the double agent, and the stinky league fan one more time just for fun!-

NSFW // SEMI-SMUTTTTTY

WC - 2,238

~~~

. . .

Aizawa is tired. 

He all but stumbles into his apartment before he carelessly tosses his scarf onto the kitchen floor. With his strong fingers, he roughly pulls at the roots of his hair. 

Almost like thin air, you appear behind him. Had he not been so accustomed to your cold hands, he would have flinched at the feeling of them running underneath his shirt. 

“Are you alright, dear?” You press your cheek into his back as you flatten your hands across his muscular abdomen, it’s no secret that you’re feeling him up but, Aizawa doesn’t mind one bit. If he had any complaints about your (sometimes) odd habits then he would have never married you in the first place. “Did you have a tough night?” 

The gentle kisses you press along his spine, standing on the tips of your toes to reach the back of his neck, make the man sigh in contentment. 

“I’m just tired, that’s all,” He mumbles and it’s a miracle that his words don’t slur together. 

“Sleepy?” You egg on and Aizawa reaches for an empty coffee mug on the counter. 

“Just tired.” He narrows his eyes at the lack of substance in the container, he could have sworn that he filled it up earlier before his patrol. “I still need to finish those exams,”

“I already graded them for you, don’t worry about it,” You coo before you teasingly dig your nails into his sides, Aizawa grunts at the tug. 

It feels odd for the man to not drink coffee right now at almost four in the morning. Still unsure of your motives, he suspects that you don’t expect him to sleep right now.

“Come on, come on,” You push your weight against his back to get him to move but, your husband doesn’t budge a single inch. “let’s go to bed.”

“Let me take a shower first,” He snaps but there is no malice in his words, no threat or anger. It’s more like a gentle nip that makes you roll your eyes. 

“No, I said bed,” Again, you pinch his skin and this time lower your hands to the front of his baggy pants. 

Aizawa gets it now, why you want to drag him to bed instead of force him to go to sleep. In a way, it’s the same thing. You always fuck him to sleep and he falls for it every time with little complaint. 

He has never been able to turn you down.

It’s how he finds himself leaning over the counter, bending over your soft body as he rolls his hips against your ass. You’re much too tight for him to move but, he couldn’t be still even if he wanted to. Aizawa leans on one of his muscular forearms against the cool top of the counter while his hand palms at your breast. You keep squeezing your thighs together and the guttural groans that leave the man because of it are sinful. He’s loud, much louder than he usually is and maybe it’s because of his initial tiredness but you just feel too good for him to care. 

“Are you going to cum for me, Shouta?” Your voice almost sounds like a purr, calling out to him and beckoning him with a backward roll of your hips. The soft giggle that leaves your lips causes his hips to stutter. “Cum in me,”

. . .

When Dabi finds himself pulling out his key to open your apartment, he scoffs. He wants to roll his eyes at this ‘domestic shit’, it pricks him like an uncomfortable thorn in his side. How odd. His heart beats a little faster in his chest whenever he’s around you and whenever he’s not, he finds that the missing beat is replaced with a dull ache. The man will never understand his own bodily reactions and doesn’t want to. He ignores it, like most powerful emotions in his life. 

It’s nearing two in the morning when he finally pushes past the door to your bedroom. His clothes are long gone and now on your floor, phone discarded on your table. He stares at you, in nothing but his boxers, as you rest. 

“Cute,” Dabi hears himself say and again ignores it entirely. He can’t be blamed for it, you really are cute with your leg poking outside of the blanket. From this angle, he can almost see what’s hidden underneath the rise of your pajama shorts. His fingers start to burn as his soul demands to touch you, and like a moth drawn to a flame, Dabi can’t stay away. 

He runs his fingers along your bare thigh, gently stroking your skin higher and higher until he reaches the curve of your ass. It would be so easy for him to push the shorts aside and-

Dabi pulls his hand away.  

Something snaps inside of him as he moves to sit on your bed instead, ultimately laying over you as he stares up at the ceiling. He doesn’t think about his feelings, he doesn’t want to. Dabi continues to ignore the pull even as you squirm out of your slumber. 

“Get off, asshole,” You say this but still attempt to wrap your leg around his waist. When this doesn’t work, you finally sit up and wrap your arms around his shoulders. 

There’s a glint in your eyes that almost makes Dabi nervous. 

“Are you here to fuck now?” You grin and the smile is entirely knocked off of your lips when Dabi pushes you back against the mattress. He relishes in the sound of your laughter, filled with delight, and he tries to think of anything that can compare to it. 

Nothing can but, he doesn’t admit to that. 

He ignores it, like all things related to you, and kisses you instead. In an effort to soothe his racing heart, the man focuses on the push of his lips. He memorizes the way your lips mold into his own, pushing and pulling until your mouth parts open for him. The messy smacks of your lips captive him too well as he lowers himself onto his forearms. 

Dabi swears against your tongue as you spread your legs and wrap your thighs around his broad waist. The dig against his staples makes him bite back another curse but he can’t complain since he gets to feel your ankles pinch his lower back. 

He nearly cums altogether when you loop your arms around his neck and tug on the ends of his dark hair. That’s when his restraint breaks and that’s when he stops kissing you in favor of pinning you back against your mattress with a hand to your throat. 

“Stay still,” Dabi murmurs quietly as he runs his eyes over your exposed belly, the hoodie you were wearing is now pressed over your chest. He lowers his face without a second thought, “and I’ll make you feel good.”

. . .

“Oh, pretty bird,” 

At the sight of your sleeping form, Hawks can’t help but coo in adoration. He immediately sends his wings off in different directions to care for you. One pulls your blanket up higher to rest just under your chin while another brushes a strand of your hair out of your face. 

You’re too sweet, it does terrible things to his heart. 

After his initial greeting, the prohero continues with his nightly routine (the one when he is not on call) while his feathers continue to shower you in love. He removes his outerwear and shoes then heads for the bathroom. 

He isn’t sure when his feathers started to take a more ‘thoughtful’ approach at making sure that you’re comfortable but, all Hawks knows is that he can now hear your moans over the running water from the shower. 

“Keigo!” You curse out his name as you rip the blanket off of you, the vibrations between your own legs are starting to get the better of you. Hawks is now all too aware of the situation, he can practically feel your arousal leaking between your thighs and the little twitch of your clit against his vibrating feathers. 

This is why he never lets his feathers run on autopilot. 

He rinses off quickly, ignoring the soap still trailing down his legs before grabbing a towel and throwing it around his waist. 

“I’m so sorry, babe-” The rest of his apology dies on his lips as his throat runs dry. He thought you were angry and upset since you had every right to be but, this, this sight before him is at the forefront of every single one of his wet dreams. The almighty prohero nearly falls to his knees. 

You’re there, knees bent and spread wide by two of his feathers while another rests against your cunt, and you’re tugging and toying with your own nipples. Each pull of your fingertips makes you gasp out in pain but the ache is quickly soothed by another one of his feathers vibrating against your soft breast. 

Hawks didn’t even know he had that many of his feathers back but, he can’t even think about counting them when he starts to drool. 

“Baby,” He calls out almost pitifully, reaching for you as he crawls on the floor on his hands and knees. You throw him a pointed look before ignoring him to focus on chasing your own high. The slight arch in your back and convulse of your pretty cunt, Hawks knows the telltale signs too well. “please,” He whimpers now before kissing his way up your calf and thigh. 

At some point, he becomes too impatient and decides to trace the expanse of your leg with his tongue. The taste that decorates your skin makes him shiver. 

“Come on,” The hero can beg all that he wants but, his feathers are now in their own control. Hawks couldn’t stop moving them even if he wanted to (not that he ever would). 

In your own way of being generous, you straighten one of your legs and rest the pad of your foot against the thin towel covering his hips. The moan that leaves him is almost embarrassing but Hawks couldn’t care less, he desperately needs more from you. 

. . .

Shigaraki’s eyes burn as he stares at the bright computer screen. For once, it’s not his own screen that he is staring at. It’s three in the morning and you are still in your own little world. 

He’s watching you bitterly as you continue to happily play a shitty farm simulation. Somehow, he’s become so distracted that his C6 Yelan has died multiple times while fighting a pesky low-grade ruin guard. 

Why are you giggling over some pixel flirting with you? Why are you cooing at digital cows?

The need to pull at his light hair becomes stronger and Shigaraki thinks his eyes may fall out if he doesn’t blink in the next handful of seconds. When he manages to tear his eyes away from you, blink, and look back at his phone screen, his entire team is dead. Yelan is gone, Raiden is gone, Kokomi is gone, and Collei is gone. Not like he cared much about the last character. 

He doesn’t even fix his team, he simply closes the app out of frustration before stalking over to you. There’s no effort on his part to be quiet at all and you wordlessly glance over your shoulder when you hear the rough slams of his socks against the hard floor. 

“What?” You hum and barely give him another glance as you go back to brushing your sheep. Shigaraki nearly growls in irritation. 

“Get up,” He narrows his eyes and then instantly regrets his choice of words once you slowly pause your screen. Shigaraki’s legs nearly buckle under the intensity of your glare and he tries to wrack his mind for any possibility to go back on his words before you get the chance to scold him. 

He’s fought proheros before, survived a fucking experiment that took months in the process, and he still can’t face you when you’re angry.

“What?” You keep your face leveled despite the judgment in your eyes. Shigaraki clicks his jaw. 

“I meant, ” He disregards his pride entirely as he looks to a random corner of your room. “Can we sit together please?” It’s your pleasant hum that brings his attention back to you. 

And it’s now his own pitiful moans that serve as a reminder, his pride means nothing in the face of you. 

Shigaraki will gladly suffer blow after blow to his pride if it means that you will sit in his lap and circle your hips while continuing to play your game. Each tight squeeze of your cunt has him gasping for air, roughly gripping the edges of the chair while his hips relentlessly buck up into you. He can’t control the way his gut wrenches and thighs tense as you happily bounce up and down on his cock. Each time you slam your hips down, it nearly crushes his balls and he can’t think of a more blissful feeling. 

“Harder,” He grits his teeth, eyes squeezed shut, as he eagerly awaits the next painful slam. You place your controller down without a second thought before moving again, taking turns rocking your hips and bouncing up and down.

Shigaraki knows what happens when he interrupts your game, you don’t stop until you drain all the cum out of his balls. But, being the masochist that he is, he loves it entirely too much to stop. 

. . .

2023/02/03 ♡

[aluciahaz]

Omfggg ur writing is SO unbelievably good i love it sm 😭🙏🙏

I got kind of a prompt for a sub!vox x gn (maybe afab) reader ✨ Okay so what if, since we all know vox is OBVIOUSLY a bratty bottom, the reader fucks the brattiness out of him? And he goes from trying to be a dom, to resistant bottom, to bratty bottom, to just begging to come with all his life, maybe even crying cuz the reader won’t let him

TYSM!!!! im glad you think my writing’s good ❤️ALSO FINALLY A VOX REQ AGHH

i have like 50094949 drafts for like all of the other stuff in my inbox but i just have to write this vox fic first ok im self indulgent i apologize 😭

—vox x gn!reader

—includes : sub!vox, dom!reader, light bondage, edging

vox is so obvious.

he clearly has a thing for control. a need, a desire. it was practically his core personality trait. yet, he’s most certainly not made to wield it.

sure, he can try and sweet talk you, saying sultry things and bragging about his power in order to get you to feel below his level. but you know how frail that persona is. a single slip up, and it would all come crashing down into deafening static.

which, was almost impressively easy to do.

his claw-like fingers runs up your neck, one of them stopping at your cheek as he smirked. if he wasn’t careful, he could fuck up and draw blood. he was tip-toeing the small line here.

a small line that if he crossed, you’d switch up this silly little game immediately, taking the control of the show and making him the contestant.

live only for you.

but, you entertain his farce of dominance, a smile playing on your lips as you see what he has in store…if he had anything, that is.

“you’ve been waiting for me all day, haven’t you?” he asks, clearly rhetorical as he caresses your cheek gently, his voice steady as he speaks. he leads you down to the bed with teeth raking your neck as he crawls over you. there’s something fun about watching him try and fluster you, to get you to say the things he wants. but you were no people pleaser.

“perhaps. unfortunately i can’t say the same for you,” you respond, your smile forming into more of a smirk at the ends of your lips as your hands snake around his delicate waist, tightening around it like a corset.

you can already see the hesitation in his eyes, the brief moment of surprise at your sudden grasp. it was too easy to surprise this man. it’s a wonder he hasn’t exploded yet.

“what do you mean by that?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing in both nervousness and curiosity, almost like he didn’t want to know. the fingers on your cheek seem to barely just get too rough as he looked at you.

“don’t act like i didn’t hear you in the office this morning, moaning my name like some prayer,” you mock, your knee slotting between his legs with ease. vox keels over at the sudden feeling, a sharp gasp getting punched out of his system with little effort.

“impatient.”

“what’s the big deal? am i not allowed to jerk off anymore?” he complains, bringing himself back up to his hand and knees over you as he glares with indignation.

“i told you to wait.”

“and i don’t remember needing to!” vox snarled, the grasp on your face tightening until you saw him pull it away, a droplet of blood adorning his finger.

simply unacceptable.

instantly, with a loud yelp of complaint and confusion, he hits the mattress with a thud, cursing in annoyance as he looks up at you. his face, once filled with irritation, shifted into one of almost astonished fear as he gazed upon your expression, cold and unforgiving.

“i’ll make you remember.”

his screen flickers before going back to normal, his face scrunched up in anger as he spat out his unwise words.

“i’d like to see you try.”

so, try you did.

his hands were cuffed with plush handcuffs to the bed-frame—you know he wouldn’t be able to handle real ones—and of course since he was never good with self-control, he had a cock ring on as a ‘treat’.

you’re delighted by how much of a fight he puts up though. considering how fragile his ego is, you were sure that he’d melt into your hands the moment you bound him to the bed.

“this is your plan?” vox rolled his eyes, watching you pour lubricant on your fingers with an unimpressed look. “not very impressive. you’ll need more—ngh! shit! give a guy some warning—!”

“beggars can’t be choosers.”

“i don’t fucking beg—!”

“you will.”

there was no mercy from that point forth. one finger after the other, shocks of electricity would course through his veins, mouth agape as your quick hand inside kept making him feel sparks of pleasure through his entire body.

“let me—cum! ass—zz—hole!” he shouted, tugging at the handcuffs to no avail. he wanted to touch himself so bad, yet you were adamant.

“if you ask nicely, maybe,” you tell him, circling your fingers before pressing deep onto that electric spot again, making him cry out in frustration and enjoyment.

all he could do was shoot you a disgusted look before yelling once more, kicking the blanket underneath him in exasperation. his anguish crackled through his veins like a current, trying to fight the urge to just submit.

but it was all too much. he was weak, even if he convinces all of hell that he’s not, he wouldn’t be able to fool you. the bucks of your fingers were replaced with the movement of your hips, making him wail for more.

an hour had passed, and his indignant claims of “i don’t feel anything!” or “you’ll never get me to beg!” shifted into more pleasant glitching screams of “don’t stop!” and “please, more!”

finally, he was using his manners.

“let me cum—ple—zz—se! i c-can’t—!” vox cried out as you quicken the pace, thrashing underneath you with his legs now wrapped around your waist, holding for dear life as you drive into him.

“i—hic—mm! ‘m s—zz—sorry! ‘msorry-AH! sorry!” his back curves off the bed as he squirms, crying in earnest now. tears fell his face with broken pixels blinking in and out underneath, his screen cutting at random points to an error warning from the overstimulation.

“pathetic,” you spit out, your hands digging into his hips as you practically manhandled the man, making him move once he lost all the energy to match your movements. “you listen to me. you do what i say, and you don’t talk back.”

you hear him shriek desperately as you grab his cock, red and weeping as you overwhelm him with pleasure, but never letting him over the edge.

“do you understand? you’re mine.”

you run your finger underneath his tip, and you see him glitch out into an expression you truly loved.

his screen was tear stained and his were graphics broken, yet it was clear enough to see the hypnotizing hearts that pulsated in his eyes as he yelled in defeat, small whimpers leaving his ruined throat as he babbled on and on.

“yours! your—yours! ngh—! please! pl—let me cum! plea—zz—oh, FUCK!”

his whole body trembles from need like electricity burned his skin. his legs fall from your waist, too weak to hold them around you anymore, yet you catch them, pushing the underside of his thighs until he was folded in half.

“cum for me then.”

instantly, vox does as you say as you slip the cock ring off of him, his wails loud enough to shake the room as he finds his release. his screen completely blanks out for a second as a shock flitters around his wrists, frying the cuffs and making them break into two before slumping back down to the bed.

you can’t even scold him for letting his powers go rampant before he pulls you over him, wrapping his arms around you as he sniffles into your ear.

“thank you—hic—thank…thank…”

this big baby. you sigh, rubbing your hands on his sides gently as you kiss his cheek. “yeah, yeah. just remember this the next time you think about acting out, okay?” you said quietly, feeling him nod into your shoulder as he starts to slowly relax.

but as per usual, he apparently forgets what you taught him in the next week.

fortunately, you’re a patient teacher. and you’ll remind him again and again about the lessons he foolishly dismisses.

sorry that this is shit 💀 i tried my best but the writing juices arent flowing this week😭 hopefully this weekend i wont have writer’s block and will blast through all yall’s reqs!! trust me, im working on them <3

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist

[spitdrunken]

i am absolutely insane about your headcanons with the vee's, my mind is so full now... this is exactly what i was hoping to find when searching through the hazbin x reader tag after watching the episodes 👁️🙏🏻 please i'm so!! the being a writer for the vee's imagine is such a good idea, val and his.. comment especially got to me..

also, for your consideration:

Val — or all of the Vee's, really —, but, in the beginning, he's really not convinced about the quality of your dialogues, despite all the lines he's read (or, well, has had Vox read to him), so naturally you have to read your previous stories out loud to him, cheeks flushing and squirming when it gets to particularly graphic scenes and his gaze on you is so very heavy, smoke caressing your jaw while you stumble over your words.. It's worse if you've written about them and a character who resembles you, and Val's smile widens when you skip from story to story, mentioning the character — definitely not you — sucking Vox off, bending over willingly for Val and begging for Velvette to touch her, or even take all three of them at once, greedy...

Also the. love potions Velvette makes have me feeling things.. Her or Vox but they might end up putting a drop or four into your glass — purely accidentally, of course! —, and...

this is terrible.. my mind is too full now... i might have to post writing for hazbin now and it is your fault alone.. (affectionate; truly, I've enjoyed your thoughts so very much!! thank you for sharing!)

I'm glad you enjoyed it so much :D!! I had an absolute blast writing it myself, and I've been thinking about it lots!! Your ask made it even Worse (/pos) and I simply had to write more!! Please please please let me know if you write something for Hazbin, I can tell from your ask already that it'll be wonderful! And if you ever wanna chat about these guys, feel free to message me again, haha.

Notes: power imbalance, sexual harassment, heavily dubious/noncon due to love potion usage.

The fact Vox even bothers at all to take the time to sit Valentino down and read to him is already a show of your quality— He really wouldn’t go through wrangling him like that for just anyone, especially not with Val getting a bit pissy when being reminded your works were being compared to his. He needs to be told that, obviously, Val, some mere written words are never going to compare, especially not in earnings, to his creations. This placates Valentino. But all Vox gets for his efforts are a lazy flick of one of Valentino’s four wrists, his eyes not even looking at him. “Look, I still think it fucking sucks. But if you wanna hire them so badly, whatever. I’ve got better shit to do than listen to daddy’s horny story-time.” Suffice it to say, he becomes a lot more… Amiable (poor you) once you’re actually working there, and he has a face to attach to the stories. He can tell upon first glance that you’re one of those pathetic little hermits, too scared to leave your own shitty apartment, barely scraping by— He’s recruited plenty of those types as whores, after all. So easily pushed around that it shouldn’t give him nearly as much satisfaction as it does.

When Valentino practically demands you join him in his room and read your previous work to him, you sputter out protests, heart skipping a beat. Every employee in the company has something bad to say about this man, and so he’s about the last person you want to be caught alone in a room with. Especially not his bedroom.

“Ah, sir, I’m not really sure—“ But he’s already wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his side as he drags you through the halls. The first thing that strikes you is how different the texture of coat is than you were expecting. It doesn’t even feel like anything at all. “Oh, sweetheart, call me Valentino. No need to be so unfamiliar with each other.” He practically purrs, a single finger tracing up the contours of your chest. “I feel like we’re going to get quite familiar.” If all the alarms weren’t ringing in your head before, they most definitely are now. But there’s nothing you can do. His grip on you is tight and, underneath his red coat, you can feel the hard metal of a pistol pressing against you.

He takes you to his room, walls covered with posters featuring himself, and you hardly have the time to look around before he sits you down on one of his red couches, still caught underneath one of his arms. It’s hard to think, much less speak, as Valentino starts to prod you to pull out your phone and start reading. “No need to be shy. You’re such an artista, aren’t you? Don’t keep me waiting.” It’s easy, at first. When the scene hasn’t grown explicit yet, and you can pretend you’re only reading the text out loud to yourself like you always do, making sure the sentences sound right. But Valentino makes it hard for you to distract yourself entirely. He rubs circles on the skin of your thigh, and the smoke from his pipe has long since been the only thing you can smell. The red smoke makes your head a little hazier, tongue a little looser— Though that all just might be because you’re not getting enough oxygen. Your every muscle is tense and, you think, this is what being a prey animal must feel like. The first time you stutter out the word ‘cock’, Valentino barks out a laugh, loud and sudden, entirely contrasting with the sultry demeanour he’s been putting on the whole time. You jump, gaze flickering from the screen to his face, before continuing. It gets worse when you realise exactly what story you’re reading out loud to him, one of the ones you’d never even posted anywhere, so utterly self-indulgent and poorly thought out that you regret it with every ounce of your being. (Unbeknownst to you, Vox has already read every draft you’ve ever typed up, but that’s neither here nor there.)

“Sorry, can I maybe, um, read a different one?” You practically squeak out. “I realised I have some better drafts, and…” “No,” Valentino shuts you down, tone temporarily harsh. “Don’t get too fucking cocky now, you’re already taking up enough time as it is. Shit’s about to get interesting, finally.” He’s saying all of this as if he wasn’t the one to drag you there in the first place.

So you trudge onward, reading as fast as you possible can, just trying to tough it out. As you read about a scared, unaccomplished demonic main character catching the eye of a trio of some of the most famous demons in town—through entirely unrealistic circumstances—you can see his grin grow wider from the corner of your eye. His nails dig into the flesh of your thigh, the smoke surrounding your face turning to caress your cheeks.

“So, let me gets this straight… You wrote about a trio of powerful demons with matching names, taking turns fucking an absolute nobody silly. One of them’s a pimp, the other a fashion designer, and the other a business man.” Valentino doesn’t give you the chance to respond. “Greedy little slut. You even chose this one specifically to read out to me, huh? Seems I got you all wrong,” he hisses out. “This must be a dream come true for you, isn’t it?”

Let’s just say that you got enough ‘material’ to write another four or so stories, just from that line alone.

----- A drop of love potion, and models always behave the absolute best, or so Velvette thinks! (As long as you don’t put in too much. It’s very hard to take good pictures when the girls keep trying to kiss you.) No bitching, no whining, only an easy to pose, cute demon to work with. And if she dresses you up in clothes that reveal more than they obscure, purely for her own enjoyment and usage, who’s going to blame her?

Certainly not you. You won’t remember a single damn thing. Not even the parts where you babble on about how pretty and gorgeous and cool she is, and how you’ve admired her for so long— All things she’s heard a million times before. Normally, she wouldn’t care less about it, but such words coming from someone with only a drop of her potion in her system means they’re all the absolute truth. She thinks it’s almost cute when it’s coming from you, really. ------------ Vox, on the other hand, would be more likely to use his hypnosis on you than a love potion. Just to have a few minutes in the middle of a meeting where you’re practically putty in his hands, all of your usual anxiety and shame having slid right off of your shoulders. He doesn’t feel any guilt about it whatsoever. Having read all of your works, he finds it safe to say that this is the exact kind of scenario you would enjoy…

And even if you didn’t, he still would. He gets a bit of a thrill out of the loopy, relaxed smile on your face as you nuzzles your cheeks against his arm, professing all of the thoughts you had about him before working at VoxTech, and the ones you still have today. It’s during one of these exact moments, that he’d likely find out that Valentino had fucked you already, something he hadn’t found necessary to mention. They’ll have a bit of a discussion about that later!

[libbyfandom]

“The Dove is just as Cunning as the Demon”

‘Need to get out of the chains. Get my sword. Grab dove. Find a way out. Chains, sword, dove, get out.’

Mizu eyes the guard to her right that’s holding her sword and pulling you along as the one that’s dragging her leads her to a back room. Taigen is swearing a storm as he’s dragged behind her by two more guards.

At least Ringo wasn’t captured. He was still thankfully waiting back at camp. If he even knew of this he would have come running to her side, further complicating escaping.

She winces, growling in frustration as the guard yanks her shackled arms further up her back as he drags her, feeling the muscles in her shoulders scream in protest.

She knew you three weren’t running fast enough after her and Taigen got into a sword fight with others at the inn. You were swarmed right out the city gates.

She would have kept fighting if one of them hadn’t held a knife to your throat.

They toss her and Taigen into the room. She catches herself on one knee, glaring over her shoulder at the men as Taigen struggles to his feet.

“Ah-“ one of the guards tsks when Taigen stands, holding her sword to your throat where he has your back restrained to his chest. You’re shaking, craning your neck as far back from the familiar steel as possible. His hand follows still, pressing the steel in until the tiniest stinging slit cuts through, a drop of blood rolling down your neck.

Mizu clenches her jaw against the familiar flames of rage licking at the corners of her focus, desperate to take over. She slowly turns with unblinking, predator like focus on where the man’s hand is. Where it temporarily is attached to his body.

“Taigen.”

He’s breathing raggedly through his nose, eyes sharp on the guards. But at her word he glances at her once, before begrudgingly lowering himself to a sitting position like her.

‘Chains. Sword. Dove. Detach hand. Get out.’

“I see the demon is in charge.”

“He is not in charge of me!” Taigen glowers from the floor.

The guard lowers the sword, heaving you up beside him. “You two wait here, we will come when the hanging executioner is ready for you.”

He lowers his face to stare at Mizu’s dark expression, his lips curling with a malicious satisfaction. “I do love watching a dishonorable swordsman’s neck snap from the drop.”

“No!” You crumple against the guard holding you captive, making him stumble a moment before he wretched you back upright from where you’ve collapsed to the floor.

Her eyes dart for every detail of the guards. Only single sword wielders, no archery weapons in hand. Safe after getting out of range. Simple, foot-soldier armor. Only powerful in numbers. Captain can’t be bribed, he’s holding too much pleasure at getting to kill them. She turns her attention to the room. Furnishings similar to normal houses. This place is not designed to hold prisoners. No windows, but that could mean…

She spots the rafter leading into the next room. An easy way out without being spotted on the floor, but she needs a way out of these chains once the guards leave, and quickly. Until she’s out of these shackles and has you in sight this needs to be silent, or risk your safety. Her stomach is tightening as she knows there’s about to be who knows how many minutes between when she escapes and when she finds you. The unknown of what these guards could do (she knows what men do) is leaving a rock in her stomach that she now needs to ignore to figure a way-

You suddenly fling yourself into her lap, cupping her cheek and pressing your mouth into hers, hard. Her eyes fly open, everything in the room halting to silence. Even the two guards near the door glance at each other with uncomfortable confusion. Taigen’s giving you two the most judgmental side eye mixed with disbelief.

She tried to flinch away on instinct at the sudden action, but your lips follow hers. Your tongue pried her mouth open, and she almost kicks you off because DOVE. RIGHT NOW?! NOT THE PLACE OR TIME.

She feels a smooth weight fall into her mouth, and her throat closes up instinctually to not swallow it.

You’re ripped away from her, half dragged half carried out the door. You flash her a certain look as you’re taken away, before going back to flailing and hitting the guard. She keeps her lips clenched tight, glaring at them as they leave. When the last guard shuts the door Taigen turns to her. “You can’t even say anything? You know what they’re going to do-“

He falls into stunned silence when the shackles key slips out of her mouth, clenched between her teeth.

“Holy shit…” he murmurs. Shaking his head back into the moment, he quickly shuffles over and turns his back to her so she can spit the key into his bound hands.

Mizu’s eyes slide back toward the door.

“I fucking love that woman.”

Chains gone.

Grab Sword.

Detach hand.

Tune out screaming.

Throw a giggling dove over shoulder.

Kick down door.

Run off into the night.

….

Remember to tell dove how clever that was.