#why do i feel ashamed that i want to be close to him? why do i feel dirty for wondering about whether sex is something I'd want with him?

[angelltheninth]

Hazbin Hotel Men + Predator/Prey Kink

Pairing: Alastor, Lucifer Morningstar, Adam, Husk, Valentino, Vox x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, dom/sub dynamics, fear play, cnc, rough sex, predator/prey dynamic, dirty talk, name-calling, creampie, biting, marking, size differance

A/N: Trying out a bit of a different format to give you all a bit more content.

You pressed yourself against a tree, your nails digging into the bark, breath coming up short and fast. You could see, feel the shadows against your feet even now, remind you that there's nowhere to hide. You risked peaking behind you to see if it was safe to run. As soon as you turned the static came from your other side.

"Not very smart are you, my dear?" Alastor's long tongue licked the side of your neck and made you jump at the cold sensation. "Where are you off to so quickly?"

His shadows wrapped around your body and pulled you down against the dirt. You groaned and struggled against them, against his cold arms as they grabbed your cheeks and kept your face still. "How can you get so hard from this?" You felt his long cock twitching against your inner thigh. Your legs opened for a moment and then closed just as fast.

This wasn't fun if you weren't putting up a fight. "Your fear. I find it very arousing for some reason. I've never felt this way before. So, if you would allow me to express my deepest thanks." Alastor's sinister laugh sent shivers down your entire body. As he pushed his cock into your pussy you couldn't quite relax under him, seeing his radio dial eyes tick and tick with each thrust. "I can hear your heart. It beats only for me, for what I do to you. I want it for myself, I want you for myself, always."

Alastor's pulled his cock out and waited o hear your heart beating faster. That was a good rhythm to fuck you to he decided. The rhythm of fear and lust that you feel for him.

The house you were in felt like royalty was living there, but not the kind one would want to wine and dine with. Lucifer was the kind that liked to chase you through the empty halls, the sound of his jolly laughter and wings flapping close behind you. "Is this all you're got sweetheart, I expected a bit more from my future wife."

"Then maybe you should look for someone else." Your suggestion got you punned against the nearest walls, legs forced open and his hands holwing your wrists. "Why hide us? Are you ashamed of me, Luci?"

"Ashamed of you? Never." Even in his most horny Lucifer found himself cherishing you. He was careful not to scratch you with his horns as he kissed the side of your neck. "I don't want anyone to intrude on this moment. I don't want anyone else to see you like this. It's selfish but I've already committed enough sin as it is."

He didn't care about sinning if sinning meant feeling your sweet pussy around his dick. "Then we shouldn't be in the hallway." You tried to push him off but that only got him to push his hips all the way against yours, the slight curve of his cock rubbing against your inner walls. "Fuck you and your perfect body."

"Mhm, go right ahead. I welcome it." His pace was slow on purpose, made to drive you mad with lust. He wanted you to chase him as much as he chased you. "Go on, don't you want my cock? You better show me how much you want it." Lucifer growled as he bit your shoulder, drawing blood and making your pussy ripple around him. "My cute painslut, how rough do you want it?"

You gulped and turned to meet his demonic eyes and bloody lips. "If Heaven won't see us then make them hear us."

"Where the fuck do you think you're going little slut? I don't remember telling you you could leave." Adam's big hand wrapped around your forearm and squeezed. "I thouht I told you not to leave my bed till my dick goes soft. Imagine my surprise when I find you sneaking around my house like this." He got in close to your face, anger evident on his masked face, in his tone, you could even imagine his cock pulsing with it.

"Sorry, I thought you'd had enough." You tried to pull away but he squeezed harder. "Adam, that hurts."

He scoffed at your complaint and pulled your smaller body against his. Golden wings dragged on the floor behind him, making him look as much of an angel now as he was a demon in bed.

"You bet your hot ass it hurts." His other hand wrapped around your hip and scooped you into the air. "Wrap your legs around me. Right this damn second." He wasn't good but you still couldn't bring yourself to disobey him. "That's a good bitch. If only you were so good before I wouldn't have to punish you now. You made me leave my comfy bed for this, you better make it worth it for my dick. You hear?"

"Yes Adam, sir." You let your head fall against his chest as he pushed his thick, huge cock into your sensitive pussyhole.

"That's it, make my dick wet, yeah, like that." He cooed against your ear and wrapped his wings around you, the soft feathers caressing your naked back. "Ride my cock and beg for my forgiveness."

You hooked your legs around his hips and rose up, staring into his golden eyes. "Sorry. I'm sorry for not listening to you, sir." You licked your lips and sat back down on his cock, feeling it splitting your cunt open. "I'm sorry for leaving you. You can punish me as much as you want."

"Hell yes I can. I will. Now you're not getting off my dick all day, for real. You'll be such a pretty cocksleeve today." Something similar to a warm slime flashed across his mask before replaced by a lecherous grin.

Cats were natural predators so it wasn’t odd for Husk to suggest to chase you. He had more than one advantage, his quick cat reflexes as well as his wings. You’d lose no matter what.

“Not much of game if you lose so easily, darlin’.” Husk pushed your head against the hard floor. “You should have given me more of a challenge.” His barbed cock dragged along the outside of your slick pussy as you tried to push your hips against him harder. “Bad girl, you can’t just take whatever you want.”

You chuckled and spread your legs more so he could climb on top of you better. “And why can’t I? You already know I don’t have your stamina yet you suggested I run all over the city. The casino was my last resort.” More specifically the only casino that he still had left. It was his safe heaven. And it meant you could do anything you wanted in here.

Husk purred against the back of your neck as the tip of his cock caught on your entrance.

“Such a shame. We need to work on you stamina. You need to be able to keep up with me. Or else you’ll never keep up with me in my rut.” His cock sank in easily, aided by the wetness from your pussy. “Opening up for me so easily. But you know, I’m debating on giving you what you want. I think I’ll keep you pinned like this and not let you move an inch.”

Shit. This did some back to bit you just not in the way you expected it to.

“I’ll make you move.” You clenched your inner walls around his cock but Husk was more stubborn than most demons in Hell. He wouldn’t fold easily, not even to you.

“Keep massaging my dick sweetheart. Get all the cum out of it okay, I’ll keep us tied together.” His teeth nibbled on your shoulder while he spoke. Not only would you have his cum marking you when you walked out of here but also his bite marks.

Valentino owned everything and everyone in the Studio. That included you. When he says keep still you’re still, when he says open up you open up, when he says run you run. You won’t get far, but he lets you make it just to the door before you feel his arms wrap your your hips and lift you up into the air. “No, no, no, not outside. You know I can’t let you do that without me, my darling. There are dangerous people out there.”

Two of his hands held your legs open while the third one played with your pussy, right in front of the door where people could see. The embarrassment flushed through you and you realized that running to the door might have been a mistake. You had the whole Studio to play in yet you chose this as your destination.

“Will you punish me for trying to escape?” You tilted your head to look up at him right in time for him to cup your jaw and capture you in a kiss.

“My whore knows me so well, that’s why I like you best of all.” Valentino tasted almost sickeningly sweet, his taste made you as dizzy as his big cock being pushed inside your tight pussy. “It’s so tight already. After all that time time you spent with my cock in your cunt today.” His claws dug into your thighs as he flicked your sensitive clit, causing your overstimulated yet full pussy to obey his touch and squeeze down on his cock.

You were good for him but you still craved this, the hard, punishing thrusts if his cock. “Give me… your cum… please, Val.”

“Asking to be breed like a bitch in heat where everyone could see you, now I know you’re fit for this job. I always choose my toys well.” Valentino’s cock pulsed as it emptied it’s seed inside your womb and pushed it in while his hips smacked and press against yours. Your pussy squeezed around him as much as it could, silently begging for more.

This wasn’t a typical chase. In fact Vox insisted he could find you and make you come without even exiting his news room. You could run anywhere within Pentagram City, he could always follow you. “Wrong turn.” You heard his voice in your ear and a second later felt a pleasant vibration in your pussy.

You leaned against the brick wall for a second. You weren’t allowed to catch your breath, the vibrations only got faster, along with the slow thrusting motion. It made walking hard let alone running. But you still did, you’d play this game of his and you would get your prize.

As you turned around the corner you looked behind, half-expecting him to be there. The vibrating toy sure made it seem that way. It was modeled after Vox’s cock after all, all the way to the patterns running to the tip of it.

“Vox, I want to go back.” You breathed as you pressed against the wall, legs shaking and thighs dripping with your pussy juice. “I want you to fuck me.” You demanded not fully knowing if he could hear you too. A chuckle echoed around you, confirming that he could. The toy stopped for a moment before it started going so fast your legs could no longer hold you. You fell down on all fours, legs spread open and ass in the air, just barely hidden from the view of everyone but Vox.

“Lift your skirt, let me see what’s mine.” Shaky hands obeyed his words, giving the camera’s around the perfect view of the toy thrusting in and out of your drenched hole, your hips swaying back, trying to find more release. “Come for me, pretty girl.”

[sweet1delusi0ns]

Playing with naruto boys hair ──☆*:・ﾟ

Slightly suggestive (kankuro ofc)

Characters: Naruto🦊,sasuke🗡️,Itachi🥀, kakashi🍃, kiba🐺, shikamaru🀄️,shino🪲,neji🎋,Lee🥋,choji🍥,gaara⏳,kankuro🪆

Naruto🦊-*

He loves attention so honesty he is down for anything. Weither your petting his head or braiding it he will always rub into your hand like a little puppy😭 he doesn’t beg for you to play with his hair but he never refuses the offer~

You were braiding his hair while he slowly fell asleep, thinking he was already asleep you started to talk to yourself “ ugh your so cute with your fluffy hair” you whisper “tsk, and you think it makes you look like a hedgehog, a cute hedgehog if anything~” then you can hear him giggle and turn a soft pink “oh my god your awake?!” “Hehehehe…yeahhh” “thanks y/n~”

Sasuke🗡️-*

He thinks he’s so tough and mostly it is but when he gets all soft with you late at night all he wants is to cuddle and for you to play with his hair. He just lays on your chest and when you don’t start playing with his hair he will clear his throat in a very dramatic way!

“AEhemHHHH” “…yes?” “Well? Arent you going to…?” “Huh?” “Play with my hair y/n!!!” “Ohhhhh! I knew that I just wanted to hear you say it~” “Y/N!” You giggle at his neediness 

Itachi🥀-*

Straight forward, to the point, just “play with my hair.” And that’s it. He can be very timid but most of the time he’s not ashamed to ask for things!

“Y/n? My darling?” “Yes?” He sits down infront of you “can you play with my hair?” You reach down and kiss his hair softly “of course!” And you drag your fingers through his soft hair you ask “anything else baby?” He whimpers softly at the head massage “I love you y/n…” you giggle “I love you too!”

Kakashi🍃-*

Every time you see his hair down it’s just an urge to go up to him a play with it, it looks so soft honestly! You never have before but one day after he takes a nice shower and walk out with his hair down and freshly dried you just had to ask!

“Why are You staring at me y/n? You think I’m that handsome?~” he teases “well you are handsome but I’m just looking at your hair” “ah why?” “It looks so soft!” “Oh!…want to touch it?” He walks over to you bowing his head in front of you while giving you cute puppy eyes. You reach for a strand of his hair and just as you thought it was soft as silk! “Oh my god what conditioner do you use babe?” He giggles while sitting down next to you, not moving his head away from your loving hand. You sat there playing with his hair for hours!

Kiba🐺-*

He always sees how excited akamaru gets when you pet him so he kinda wondered what if felt like, but he didn’t want to be weird so he didn’t know how to ask. So he didn’t ask!

“What’s up kibaa?” “Hey y/n!!” He lays down on your lap which he does often but this time he did something different “can I have your hand y/n?” “Of course puppy!” He grabs your hand and immediately places it on his head waiting for you to get the hint. “Uh? Heh what are you doing…OHHHHH you want me to play with your hairrr how cutee!!” “Shut up y/n!!! Gosh cant a guy get some pets without being teased.” You laugh at his response. But you gladly gave him all the pets he wanted! (Akamaru was jealous)

Shikamaru🀄️-*

Similar to kakashi, you rarely see his hair down so once you saw him relaxing in bed with his hair down you couldn’t resist

You crawl in bed with him which Suprisingly he didn’t realize, but once you started playing with the ends of his hair he opened his eyes to look at you “uh, what are you doing dear?” “Playing with your hair” “w-why?” “Because I Love You?” “Hm, Ok……can you brush it out while your at it? It’ll get frizzy and I’m to lazy to deal with it” “of course! But only if you don’t whine about it” “be gentle and I won’t whine!” He closes his eyes waiting to feel the brush softly dragging through his hair (for now on he always asks you to brush his hair)

Shino🪲-*

He doesn’t mind what you do to him as long as your happy! I feel like his hair gets frizzy in humidity and your happy to take care of it, kind of like shika. Except he asks you to help not because of the frizz he just secretly likes your hands on his hair

He walks up to you after a fresh shower and hands you a comb, detangle stray and a normal brush. You look up at him a little lost just to see his hair poofy and slightly curled “…do you want me to do your hair?” “Yes I don’t know how” (he does he just wants you to do it) “hm Finee, cmon sit in front of me” you took very nice care of his hair which he appreciated so much. Now most of the time when you play with his hair it just turns into you playing salon with him (LOL)

Neji🥋-*

He also LOVESSSS attention, love and care no matter what! He would just jump onto you and beg for you to pet him! Which you always do, especially after a long day he lovesss ittt

“Y/n-Chan! Please! I would do anything just for you to play with my hair!” You look at him for a while just to soak in his pouty lips and puppy dog eyes, but you took to long to respond so he took it as a no apparently. “PLEASE,PLEASE,PLEASE,PLEASE,PLE-” “YES LEE OK!!” “YAY!” He tucks his head into your hand so you could hold onto his face while playing with his hair, also so he can stare at your beautiful face with love in his eyes

Choji🍥-*

Now this boy has a lot of hair, it’s a like a blanket! So sometimes you just cling to his back and bury your head into his fluffy hair. Other than cuddling into his hair you also love playing with it. One time you put them into two pig tails and he looks ADORABLE! He didn’t take them out the whole day

“Your sooooo CUTEEE AHHH” He is currently twirling his hair which you put into a cute ponytail “ya think so y/n?” “Mhm!! But let’s try something elsee” you take the band holding his hair up out gently as to not put any hair out, then you dragged both hands from his scalp all the way down his hair which made him shiver. You grabbed two pieces of his hair from the front of his head to put them into two buns. After that you took a look at his cute face. “Oh my gosh you look like a cute little bear!” “Ha little?” “Yeah your just a silly little guy!” Which made him blush. He loves moments like this

Gaara⏳-*

He is very timid with any new form of physical affection so when you suggested playing with his hair he was a little shy but also confused, why does she want to touch my hair? Is it because it’s red? He didn’t understand but was willing

“I’m ok with you touching my hair I’m just wondering why?” You smile at his curiosity “it’ll feel good sweetheart, I’ll give you a nice head massage~” he likes massages so that comforted him a little. Once you made contact with his hair he felt a little less anxious. “Feel good?” His eyes softened while he turned drowsy “yes…thank you” he fell asleep not to far into the massage, but now you know any time he has trouble sleeping you could put him to sleep by playing with his hair

Kankuro🪆-*

I’ve said before he LOVES his hair, you rarely get to touch is. But he will let you touch it if you pull it play with it which he does like but never admits it

“Why would I let your touch my glorious hair!” “You let me pull it last night?” “SHUP UP?!” Teasing him is always fun so you get a laugh out of it, but you do really want to play with his hair “no serious let me play with it! I promise you’ll love ittt~” “Ughhhh fineeeee” he mumbled while he sits on his knees infront of you. Once you actually started playing with it He visibly relaxed “told you you’d love ittt” “I don’t love it! I just…yeah fine you win I love it”

[amomentsescape]

What Should Have Been Said (Part II)

Thomas Hewitt x Reader

Summary: Reader finds themselves alone for the first time in a while, confused on what to do without their home.

Warnings: Angst but fluffy end, cuss words, mentions of dying

Word Count: 1,229

You can find Part I here. A/N: Quite a few of you asked for a Part II, and I am not much for leaving a story so unhappy, so here we are :)

It had been a full three days since you last saw Thomas, and nothing had felt right since then.

You had no fucking clue where you were going when you ran off that afternoon. But once the adrenaline wore off and your mind cleared, you realized how stupid of a choice you had made.

It took hours to make it to the nearest town. Your mouth felt like chalk, and your feet were dragging more and more with each step you took.

But thankfully, a passerby saw your condition and caught you before your body could fully collapse to the ground.

A short rest and three bottles of water later, you explained that your car had broken down several miles back.

There was no way you were going to be honest about what actually happened. Besides the fact that you felt ashamed and rejected over the situation with Thomas, there was a part of you that still cared about him too much to make him out to be the bad guy. And whatever hatred or anger you might have felt earlier had long since worn off by then, leaving you only with the feeling of pure heartbreak.

The passerby believed your story and stayed with you late into the evening, insisting on making sure you were okay. But after seeing you move around by yourself just fine, they felt comfortable leaving you alone once you reassured them.

And thankfully, your wallet had been in your pocket when you ran off earlier.

You found a nearby motel and rented a room for a couple nights in order to figure out what to do.

But each night came and went without so much as a plan or alleviation from your pain.

Even if you had the strength to make the trek back, why would you even bother? It was clear he didn't want you there anymore. He didn't need you, so what use was it to go back to a home that no longer welcomed you?

Your eyes began to sting again with the familiar feeling of tears before you quickly swallowed the lump and wiped them away.

What the hell were you supposed to do now?

You didn't have enough money to extend your stay, and you had no source of transportation to make it anywhere else.

Your home had been him and now, you had nothing.

You sat on the bed of the dingy motel room for as long as you could before they'd kick you out, finally dragging yourself outside and into the heat once more.

It still burned as painfully as before, but it honestly felt nice to feel something other than utter despair for a change.

You went to a local diner and sat yourself in a corner booth, just ordering a water for the time being.

The waitress seemed to take pity on you and let you just rest there for a while, nursing that same cup of water over the next few hours.

They thankfully weren't too busy, so that was likely why they didn't kick you out before the sun fully set. But of course, the restaurant had to close at some point, so you had to finally peel yourself from the seat and wander out into the night.

You almost chuckled to yourself as you trekked along the dark street. After all those hours sitting alone by yourself with nothing but your thoughts, you hadn't figured out even the slightest idea of what the hell your next step was.

Your footsteps echoed against the gravel in the quiet town.

Thomas had given you everything. Food, clothes, water, shelter, love, a home, a family. Without him, you really had nothing.

You felt the warm tears drip down your face despite your protest. You would think after doing nothing but crying for three days that your body would have been over it by now. But it seemed that tears could never end if the pain was strong enough.

The cacophony of your uneven steps was now mixing with your pathetic sobs as you tried to choke them back. But no matter how hard you tried, the crying just kept coming on stronger.

You weren't able to even gather a breath until you heard a breaking twig off to your left.

Your movements froze and you snapped your head toward the source of the sound, only to be met with nothing.

Literally, nothing. You thought there might have been a wooded area where you were looking, but the night had become so dark that you couldn't see anything but black.

You squinted your eyes, trying to garner up some idea of what was out there, praying that it was just some small animal scurrying around among the branches. But when a looming shadow began to appear within the dark haze, you felt everything in you drop to your stomach.

So much for planning on what to do without Thomas. None of it would matter if you were killed.

You shakily took a few steps back as the figure came closer, slowly.

Was it toying with you?

You tried to back away even further but felt that you no longer had control over your body. Pure fear mixed with exhaustion, and your legs no longer wanted to work. Your body had failed you.

The shadow's hand reached out to your figure and you prepared for immediate pain. And against your better judgment, in a moment of pure panic, you screamed out into the night.

"Thomas!"

Your voice cracked, and you felt pitiful, but if you were going to die, at least your last words would be something meaningful.

The hand finally reached you but instead of the rough grasp you were expecting, you were met with a soft touch from calloused skin.

The shadow was finally close enough that you could make out its features, and you about fell to your knees at the sight.

Thomas was standing in front of you, his hand caressing your face as he stared at you with watery eyes.

Was this real? Maybe you were already dead, and this had all been some nightmare all along.

But his touch felt real, and his scent was all too familiar.

He caught you before you could fully crumple to the ground.

"T-Thomas?"

He nodded quickly and pulled you closer to him as he wiped away the sweat and tears accumulating on your face.

"What are you doing here?" you croaked.

He simply pointed at you with a shaking finger, his eyes never leaving yours.

Some weird part of you wanted to laugh at this. There was no way he could have come this far and found you. How could he?

"You told me y-you would never leave home."

You could feel the tears starting to form again as an unbelieving smile formed on your lips.

He shook his head and pointed at you once again, his finger touching softly against the middle of your chest.

You were his home.

With what little strength you had left, you bent upwards towards him, resting your head against his as he pulled you even closer to him.

He was here now. It was going to be okay.

He picked you up with ease as he began to make the long trek back home, not letting you go for even a second the whole way there.

For those that asked for a part II: @rosehilol @imhungry675 @blackrose8425 @littlechomper

[katelynsimpsince2016]

Daniel, Louis and their “strange alliance”

this quote from eric from a pre-season 2 interview has been rattling inside my brain for far too long so i want to break down a scene from season 1 that has gained some newly-found importance.

in 1x02 daniel and louis sit down to have dinner as louis recounts an experience of attending the opera with lestat and its bloody end. what’s most interesting about this sequence is less so to do with what happened at loustat’s opera date but more so this surprisingly touching moment between louis and daniel.

it starts off with louis mentioning how the dessert served for him and daniel is taken from a off-handed remark in daniel’s memoir.

this suggests A LOT. it seems to imply that louis has attentively read daniel’s memoir and likely has a genuine vested interest in daniel as a person outside of what he can do for him in relation to rejigging his jumbled memories. you can’t tell from this screenshot but he almost seems embarrassed that he went to such lengths with making sure to serve up this exact dessert that daniel mentioned. and the fact that it was an “offhanded remark” also drives me insane. he either read through daniel’s memoir and specifically noted down this mention about the dessert or realised that he wanted to share a meal with daniel and proceeded to scour his memoir in order to find mentions of food he likes. there is also the possibility that he asked one of his servants to read through the book again but we know for sure that louis read daniel’s memoir himself at some point. whatever the case louis went to the effort of making sure daniel would get to eat something familiar and that he most definitely liked. he did that to make daniel feel comfortable.

this is especially significant as louis chooses to eat this dessert alongside daniel, despite the fact that it tastes like “paste” to him. he is actively choosing to eat something that tastes like gruel to him essentially and for what?? to appear less monstrous? to comfort daniel? maybe show that he still has some humanity left in him. it’s important to mention that this is in the aftermath of daniel confronting louis about how human readers likely won’t be sympathetic to louis and lestat’s need for blood to survive. however, it doesn’t come across as a calculated move to appear more appeasing to potential readers. this seems wholly for daniel’s sake.

louis - for whatever reason - is intentionally presenting himself as approachable and human to daniel.

this is followed up by daniel seemingly picking up on louis’s offer for connection and opening up about the woman that’s on everyone’s mind currently: alice.

daniel details how he proposed to alice in paris in a cafe (which lines up with the story he tells in 2x02) and names the street that it was located on. louis recognises this and verbalises it.

this is yet another grasp for connection, of understanding, between louis and daniel. louis wants to show daniel that he’s genuinely interested in his story, in him as a person by showing that’s he actively listening to him.

now, what we’ve all been waiting for.

this moment is the whole reason why i want to tear this scene apart!! this is probably up there with daniel offering louis a break in 2x01 as one of the most sincere and vulnerable moments we’ve gotten from daniel, a typically cold and sarcastic character. whatever you think about the alice-armand parallels and who exactly he is truly talking about here, daniel is fondly speaking of someone now estranged from him. he remembers the little details about her, an insecurity that she was ashamed of that he completely adored! he loved her for who she was, imperfections and all.

and to top this all off daniel closes his laptop! he ends the session! he likely does this out of a mixture of embarrassment that he’s rambled about his ex-wife live on tape but also maybe a sign to louis that he’s taking this seriously. that he’s appreciative of him trying to meet him on his level. that this moment was real. by stripping away the symbol of the supposedly strictly professional nature of this reunion he may be signalling that this conversation is indeed important to him.

and the fact that daniel is able to even have this vulnerable moment with louis at all, reminiscing over his lost love (whilst louis is doing something very similar with lestat) is so intriguing! obviously louis and daniel are most definitely not strangers to one another but they aren’t best friends either. they haven’t seen each other in decades and for daniel especially this has been a very abrupt reunion. whether he likes it not, daniel likely relates on some level to louis’s complex feelings towards lestat, his lover. like louis, daniel may not miss his relationship with alice in relation to the toxic dynamic they shared (slight guess here but the revelation that she initially rejected his proposal suggests to me that their relationship was a bit rocky at least) but he most definitely misses her as a person and the memory of their time together.

finally, what closes off this scene is this… odd expression from louis. not entirely sure if i’m being too optimistic when i say that louis may be sympathising with daniel here but admittedly he does seem a little confused as well. but if this truly is meant to be a look of contempt i feel like it would’ve been more akin to louis’s more obviously disgusted reaction to the coven’s play in 2x02. instead, in this scene, i think louis simply did not expect daniel to so openly accept his offer of connection and is just stunned to hear this bristly old man reflect his own feelings so accurately. he’s finally found someone who understands his situation with lestat. someone who understands this dichotomy of longing and anguish all at the same time. obviously, their situations are not a 1:1 but this scene has always stood out to me as a parallel between daniel and louis’s previous relationships.

a key part about this whole daniel and louis form a “strange alliance” thing is that it seems to stem from the two men realising that they have a lot more in common than they initially believed. that’s why it’s “strange”: because it’s unexpected.

although in recent episodes they’re definitely at odds with each other, this scene combined with other sprinklings of subtle moments of connection suggest to me that daniel might become a genuine friend to louis. it is a strange friendship but they both want to get to the bottom of louis’s memories. no one else in dubai is able to tell louis how it really is and is able to actually push him to question the lies he’s been fed (and that he’s fed himself). intentionally or not, daniel is looking out for louis and is indirectly helping him to accept his past mistakes. maybe he sometimes pushes him too hard or says some stuff he probably shouldn’t but ultimately daniel is the catalyst for louis actually remembering the truth. without him louis would not have come as far as he as over the course of the series

[tomuras]

| Angel |

Pairing: Sunday x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Selfship Coded, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Reader has asthma, Asthma Attack, Angst, Gender Neutral Reader, No pronouns for reader, He/Him for Sunday, 600 ish words.

A/n: Just a little something I wrote for myself <3

Summary: Sunday wakes up and finds out you’re having an asthma attack.

Tags: @auphelia @suyacho @themovingcastlez @tighnarly

It had been a bad, long morning. Thankfully, Sunday was there to make everything better, or at least try to. He’d woken up to find you upright on the couch, hugging your body as you tried to soothe yourself into a more relaxing state. When your eyes locked onto his slowly approaching form you tried your best attempt at a smile, and opened your mouth to greet him, but instead of words there were fits of coughs.

“Feeling unwell?” He asked, taking a seat beside you.

You nodded and smiled weakly.

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close to him. “What’s wrong?” He questioned.

You took a deep breath and tapped the center of your chest as you tried to explain, wheezing out your words in between coughs. Quickly you took notice of how Sunday’s eyes went from relaxed to a widened expression.

“Stay there and stop talking.”

You looked at him confused as he moved to grab something from the room. It wasn’t until he came back with your emergency inhaler that the realization hit you. Oh, right.. that. He brought the inhaler to your mouth and waited until you pressed your lips to the opening before pressing down on it and activating the medicine.

“You’re having an asthma attack.” He explained, watching as you held your breath for a few moments before exhaling.

He waited at least ten minutes before he opened up his arms to welcome you onto his lap, looking at you with a concerned expression and a small, yet sad smile. You took a moment to take a few deep breaths before climbing onto his lap, steadying yourself as you did so as to get into the most comfortable position. Once you’d gotten comfy you curled up against his chest, clinging to his pajama top as he started petting your hair. For the first few minutes it was silent except for Sunday’s and your breathing.

“Why didn’t you come get me? I would’ve wanted to help.” He spoke calmly for someone who was admittedly scared by what had just happened.

You thought about your next words carefully. “I didn’t know what was happening an’ didn’t wanna bother you.”

Sunday was not pleased with your answer, no matter how honest and good natured it was. No, in fact it deeply disturbed him. What would you have done if he hadn’t been there to save you? What would he have done if he failed to protect you? Oh god. Sunday didn’t want to even entertain that thought, it upset him far too much. He wasn’t sure he could live with himself had the worst happened.

“You need to be more careful. Something could’ve happened, you could’ve gotten hurt, or worse.” His voice slightly rose as his words trembled from his lips.

Immediately you felt ashamed. You knew how Sunday was and still you insisted on doing it your way. You were so reckless sometimes, so much so that you worried about the responsibility it put on Sunday.

“I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to cause any problems.” You confessed quietly, playing with the fabric of his shirt by pressing it in between the pads of your fingers.

Sunday sighed and gave your body a gentle squeeze. “It’s alright. Just be careful. Please? For me?“

You nuzzled your head against his chest and smiled. “Thank you, Sunday.”

He pulled back his head far enough so that he could get a better look at you. “What’s the sudden praise for?”

You smiled and wrapped your arms around him, giving him a tight hug. “For everything.”

He hummed and stroked your cheek. “You really are something special.”

Regardless of everything, he was truly at home with you. There was no better company than yours.

[changbinnieswife]

Stray kids OT8 x reader ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Stray kids reacting to you having old but still visible self harm scars </3

Genre : fluff, comfort

Warnings : mention of old self harm scars on forearms and tighs 

There are the 3 firsts members!!! I will do the others soon dont worry!!

remember that you are amazing the way you are!! never give up you can do it, ik you can!! ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ

bangchan : 

• he noticed first when he came home and you were washing the dishes.

The weather was getting hot those days so you decided to wear a short sleeved pajama.. you were aware of your old and still visible scars, but you just hoped that Chan wouldnt notice.. You couldnt bare wearing an hot, thick pajama in this weather, and it will only make your boyfriend more suspicious, so you decided to just pretend theyre not here and see what will happened, and even tho, the situation where he will see them had to come one day.. You didnt wanted to scare him or get him worried, but you trusted him, like he trusted you..

So one day, when he came home, he removed his jacket and shoes while yelling an "I'm home babyyy" before making his way into the kitchen, and giving you a back hug with some complementary kisses on the neck, like usually.

You answered with an wide smile, one of his favorite, and a kiss on the lips.

You continued washing the dishes until you could feel his glance on you.. You turned your head at him to see him starring at your forearm, a really worried look in his eyes. 

"B-babygirl? what are those?" he said taking your arm in his hands, analizing the healed wounds closely.

"mhm.. nothing, chan. just some- hard past, i guess? I'm better tho, I promise"

"You promise?" he said still worried ;

"mhmhm promise" you smiled.

After this, he offered a cuddle session while asking you some questions ; without overwhelming you tho.

He asked since when you had them, why did you started it and if you wanted to talk about it..

He finished by kissing them, praising how strong you are and how he will always love every inches of you forever. <3

Lee know : 

• he noticed them while he was teaching you a dance.

That day you two were in the dance practice room because you wanted to learn the dance cover of a song you liked, and most importantly ; to spend a great time with your amazing and lovely boyfriend.

Even tho you knew he was very strict and serious when it comes to dance, you wanted to share his hobby and you knew that deeply, it made him really happy.

So you wore a comfortable outfit : an white tee shirt and legging, it matches and it was cute.

Generally you would take the time to wear arms warmers because even if your scars were old, you felt ashamed of them... but today was a very hot day, and you know you would remove them anyways, so you just prayed god to not let him notice them 🙏

After a while, you started to struggle with one move so you asked him for help.

He took your arm to show you how to move it and the he noticed.

He noticed.

He was took aback at first, zoning out for two or three seconds before reacting fast.

"Since when do you have those..?"

"oh." you just answered

Even tho you trusted him with every cells of your body, you always hated belng so vulnerable and weak..

There were a big silent ; neither of you knew what to say or how to react.

He was the first to talk again tho.

"I presume theyre... self inflicted?" 

You didnt answered, and he got the message, suddently he patted your head cutely ; you were a bit confused at first before he spoke.

"It's okay Jagiya, you dont have to say anything, I wont force you, but if you have anything in this silly mind of yours, know that ill always be here no matter what, okay?"

You slightly smiled and nodded, he kissed your cheek before coming back to showing you that move.

Changbin :

• He noticed them while cuddling with you.

You were spending a really tough day and you were really tired... Plus it was soooo hot this afternoon, you were suffocating in your clothes.. so you decided, after coming home, take a shower, and doing your skincare, that you will wear that one pajama you had brough online a time ago.. It was pink and white, with a cute patern. in fact 🤓☝️ (sorry.) you were hesitating between two pajamas and changbin choosed this one. You putted it on and looked at yourself in the mirror "it looked better on the model.." you thought to yourself. Its not like you didnt liked the  pajama ; no you loved it. The thing you didnt like was yourself. your body. 

When you looked at your reflection, your eyes met your tighs and your forearms.

You layed on your bed, looking at your scars..

They reminded you how you hated yourself, how theres so many things that you dont deserve, how you were useless, how you d- 

"Bunny hiiiii!!! im hommmeee!!" Changbin said while comming in, snapping you out of your thoughts, you were so focused that you didnt even heard him.

You smiled brightly, opening your arms so he can bury himself in them ; and he did.

Changbin was very affectionate and loved physical affection, so cuddles were daily with him, and you didnt minded at all.

He rushed in your arms and snuggled with you, a big happy smile on both your faces.

"I missed you so muuchhhhh" 

"me too" you smiled and answered.

after like 15 or 30 minutes of quiet cuddles and kisses, you two switched to a new position.

"wait-" he said

"mhmh?"

"ARE YOU WEARING THE PAJAMA I CHOOSED FOR YOU BUNNY?? 🥺"

you chuckled and nodded, before he cuddled you even harder causing you to giggle.

Then he saw your tighs.

he saw them.

he paused a moment while you were still giggling, not knowing he saw them.

"y/n?" his smile faded away 

"yea?" you looked up at him and you understood...

"i.. "

he carressed your tighs with his hand, frowing.

"I never saw you had scars here before?"

"Sorry..." you mumbled "It was a long time ago, dont worry about me" you smiled saddly.

"do you have others?" he asked, worried.

"actually" you gave him your arms "yes, here"

He looked at them, his eyes almost watering, but he didnt wanted to cry in front of you

He gave you a really tight hug 

"Its okay binnie, its over now"

"are you sure?" he said worried in your neck

"mhmhmhm" you answered before covering him in kisses.

im so sorry if it was a little short..

tysmmm for reading like i said other members are coming soon!! <33

[poetryvampire]

Ive been possessed with the thought of a super angsty Rolan romance fic. Specifically while he's still studying under Lorroakan.

Like imagine you/tav are a magic user that's a regular at Sorcerous Sundries.

Warning, abuse mentions

●Rolan's instantly smitten and you two bond and become close over your shared interests and struggles with magic. The whole mutual pining song and dance.

●Youre a great comfort to him but he still feels like he's falling apart a lot of the time. He doesn't think he should confess his feelings because he doesn't feel worthy of you. Doesn't feel like he can offer you enough. And whatever he does he cant let you know about Lorroakan. About anything thats happening. He's aching for help but he's just too ashamed to dare ask for it. What would you think of him?

●Rolan can't let on that anything is wrong. It gets harder as- of course -when you see his bruises youre very concerned. But he just can't let it happen so he's careful not let anything too negative about his master slip out in case you figure it out.

●Until one day he comes into work to see Lorroakan giving you a demonstration on a particularly tricky spell. He's frozen with fear and anxiety. So he just observes. At first everything looks standard. Until you ask a question and suddenly Lorroakan's standing far too close to you and an alarm just goes off in his head.

●Rolan just breaks down. Lashing out at both of you. Because why wouldn't you want a learned wizards advice? Why would you think anything was wrong. Nothing seems remiss but it never does at first, does it? The though of him being anywhere near you sends him into a rage. The idea of you being hurt in anyway makes him sick to his stomach.

●Rolan storms out, clearly distressed. He'll be punished for it be he doesn't care. You fallow him, begging to let you help him, to tell you whats wrong. He ends up yelling at you to leave him be and not to ever came back. You're crying by the time you go and so his he.

●Hes absolutely numb and frightened and doesn't know what to do. Rolan feels like he's losing to one thing he had left but he doesn't want you near him if there's even a possibility you could get hurt.

Ahhh Im screaming inside and i feel like I need to get it out of my brain or it'll explode. Idk if I just should do a little one off or like really dig into the drama. Would you be interested? Any thoughts let me know.

Xox💜

[baron-fromthebaronies]

A brief preview into the day to day life of Baron, from the Baronies.

(This one-shot takes place sometime between a few of the recent roleplays between myself, @askthebadkidz, and @sklondaguk involving the introduction of Sprak LeFerve. Please enjoy.

Edit: I truely do not think I will be finishing this but I think it has good bones and I am proud of what I have written so far so I am giving you guys the scraps. Sorry and you're welcome :]

It was odd, how the only place in their Manor not riddled with cobwebs and deprived of color was the alter. It also made perfect sense. An extra dimensional connecting to his Mother through an already extra dimensional space.

Baron stands in front of it now, their face broken in ways it has not been in quite some time. He waits for his Mother, Cassandra. There is no need for him to pray, she knows he is there.

A voice fills their ears and, for a moment, a cool night breeze ruffles their clothes and hair.

"Baron, dear, you seem stressed."

As if the wind carried him there, Baron is suddenly within the depths of his Mother's domain. The night sky twinkles with stars above and a heavily wooded forest surrounds them.

Cassandra stands infront of him. Not in the way of a vast, all encompassing deity but in the welcoming way of a parent. They stand at a height similar to Friend Kristen, the height of a human. Not goblinoid like Baron.

No...not goblinoid. He will never be a goblin. Not like Sprak or Sklonda. And there in lies one of his many problems.

Baron is silent, the cracks already distorting their face chipping away even further. Here, with their Mother, Baron feels more...right. More like he is supposed to exist. His emotions are also louder, harder to handle and keep within his porcelain shell.

They can't quite remember how to talk, the thought of it making the phantom strings within them pull taunt. Instead they feel warm liquid decending from their eyes, running into the cracks riddling their face and they remember they can cry. A sob comes crashing through him like a wave of the most powerful magic he has ever felt and he runs to his Mother.

Cassandra is kneeling by the time Baron closes the distance between them, her arms outstretched and ready to hold her child.

Their stained glass fingers glide over and through the ringlets of Baron's hair, careful not to mess them up.

Both Baron and Cassandra stay in that same position for many hours. Though time means nothing to either of them.

It is only after Baron calms down, their sobs now just ragged "breathing", that Cassandra speaks.

"Baron, sweetheart, what's wrong?" Their voice is like fog settling over cool grass and Baron feels their own voice return.

"Rizhasanewfriendandtheywanttotakehimawayfrommebutrizismineand-" Baron is silenced with a gentle shush from Cassandra.

"Too fast, Baron. Slow down."

After a few calculated moments, Baron starts again.

"Riz Gukgak. He has acquired a...new friend, Sprak LeFerve. I do not like Sprak...LeFerve. In fact, I...think I want him...dead."

There is a moment of panic that surges through Baron's body as their mother takes her arms from around them but it is soon soothed with her gental hands holding theirs. The fractals of shimmering glass click against Baron's porcelain hands and Cassandra giggles at the noise before returning to the matter at hand.

"Why do you not like this friend of Riz's? Does he hurt him? Is he putting him in danger?" His mother's voice is filled with concern and, for a moment, it makes Baron feel ashamed that that is not the reason.

"He-...he wants to take...Riz Gukgak away...from me. He says he will...win him."

[rinhaler]

Uf!Sukuna pulling reader into the shower with him after winning a match 😮‍💨

Writing this bc I don't wanna deal with writing the follow up rn LMAO idk if I wanna count this as canon or not but I guess it doesn't really matter either way. Enjoy hotties!

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, underground fighter!sukuna, blood/injury detail, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby), daddy kink, spanking, pussy eating, male masturbation, hair pulling, showerhead usage (iykyk), oral fixation, praise, mutual pining??, vaginal sex, creampie.

words: 2.6k

It doesn’t take you long to jump out of bed and rush to the front door when you hear a knock. You already know who it is. As you open the door, you see him looking down at your welcome mat, and he’s closer than you’d expected him to be. His arm resting on the door frame and the way his body is hunched over makes it seem as though he’s already inside.

He looks up at you, grinning widely, and the sight makes you gasp.

“You’re bleeding.” you say, doing all you can to stay quiet and composed so you don’t disturb Megumi while he sleeps.

He spits on the ground, a bright red glob soon washed away by the rain almost as quickly as it lands. His chest rumbles with each breath, you’ve never seen him like this before.

You’ve never had to worry about him before.

“You stood me up.” he chuckles darkly, body becoming drenched by the downpour the longer you stare at each other. “Why didn’t you come? Wanted you to see me win.”

“I—” you stop yourself, shaking the explanation away as you look at his features. The way blood perfectly frames his teeth as a bloody cut from his nose continues to pour and trickle into his mouth. “I’ve seen you fight, how did this happen? You’d never let someone land a hit on you like this.”

He moves to come in, but you block his path instantly. And at that, he rolls his eyes. It’s what he likes about you, your stubbornness. It drives him crazy. He knows you aren’t to be taken lightly and you aren’t the type of girl to yield to him without reason.

“You were meant to come watch me win tonight, princess,” he reminds you. There’s a twinge of guilt in your eye that he doesn’t miss, it even gives him an opening to let himself into your home.

He knows better than to raise his voice or do anything to make you worry. He knows how badly you strive to be a good influence to your little brother and how you only want to do right by him. He knows how guilty you feel for continuing to see him behind your brother’s back.

But he can see in your wanton stare as you look up at him so meekly, you feel even guiltier for disappointing Sukuna.

And that is why you decided not to show up tonight.

“I did win, sweetheart, don’t worry.” he tells you, putting your mind at ease. Though it’s hard to feel fully comforted knowing the state his opponent has likely been left in after giving your lover such a gnarly injury. “I did let him hit me a few times.”

“Why would you do that?” you ask him, quietly. “Why would you do something so stupid?”

“’Cause you weren’t there tonight.” he responds, a wicked grin on his face as he tells you. “Wanted your attention tonight, and look how worried you are. Do you feel bad you didn’t come and watch daddy win for you?”

“A little.” you nod. “Your face looks fucked, they really got a good hit on you. You should really get that checked out.”

“And why would I do that when I know the best doctor in town?” he raises an eyebrow. He points at his face and scoffs lightly before speaking again. “This is nothin’, princess. Don’t worry. Think you owe me after you bailed on our plans. And I don’t mean I want you to patch me up.” he smirks as he takes your hand.

You’re a little ashamed that Sukuna has been here enough times to know where everything is, now. He pulls you along to your bathroom like he lives here. Like he’s always lived here. He closes the door as you enter it, locking it behind you as he pushes you against the white painted wood.

Your breathing quickens and your lungs expand. The deep breaths you take are enough to make you lightheaded, but you can’t lose yourself when you’re around Sukuna. He demands your mental presence as well as physical, no matter what you’re doing.

He needs to know you’re with him the way he’s always with you.

“We can’t.” you shake your head. “Megumi will hear.”

“I know.” he nods, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger before he bends down to kiss you. And you don’t resist, you never do. You never can. And he knows that. “I want to shower, ‘n I want you to come in with me, darlin’.”

He pulls away just a little so that he can lift his vest over his head and toss it aside. His muscles ripple even in the darkness of the bathroom. Your hand instinctively searches for the light, eager to see him properly. But he does it for you, easily flipping the switch so that the room fills with a cool blue light. It makes you shiver, although that could just as easily be him.

He's so imposing, so intimidating.

“Megumi will hear us, we can’t.” you remind him, and you’re met with a string of shushes before he kisses you again, the coppery taste of blood stains your tongue, but you don’t mind. You barely even notice as your own blood seems to rush to your head. He’s already pulling at your pyjama top, and you’re letting him. He strips you of the material before threading his fingers through your hair, his tongue tangling with yours as you moan into his mouth.

“I don’t care if he does,” he laughs lightly before kissing you again. “And I don’t think you do either, I think you want to fuck a winner tonight. And I want my prize.”

You don’t answer, you just kiss him again. He laughs into it as he picks you up with ease, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his torso before he carries you towards the shower.

“He’s gonna kill me for this.” you laugh too, a little breathless as he puts you down.

He yanks down your sleep shorts and lifts you into the tub. You watch him as he removes his joggers and climbs in after you, spinning you around so your back is to him. He gropes your tits roughly, lips sucking harshly into your neck as he pinches your nipples.

“Turn on the water.” he breathes into your skin, your back arching from the sensuality of his whispered tone and almost aggressive touches. You yelp as he spanks you, covering your mouth quickly when you realise what you’ve done. “Now.”

He drops to one knee as you do as you’re told, grasping the fat of your ass while you fiddle with the shower head and water settings. You try to supress another yelp as the cold water hits you first, but you’re soon distracted as Sukuna begins to grunt against your soft skin as he kisses you fervently.

“You’re perfect.” he muses, gripping your hips and prompting you to turn and face him. He looks up at you like you were heaven sent. Like you’re a gift from designed to perfectly suit him. It makes you feel like a Goddess, and it makes you moan as he places a hand under your thigh and guides you to rest your foot on the edge of the tub. “Daddy’s perfect fuckin’ pussy.”

He kisses your clit repeatedly before he begins to make out with your cunt. You throw your head back against the tiled walls, moaning louder as you watch him take hold of his length and begin to play with himself. He moans into your folds as he strokes his length calmly.

It makes you heady.

To see him so nonchalant as he touches himself, getting off to your pleasure rather than prioritising his own. You know how good he is in bed. You’ve known what a good fuck he is from the day you met.

But you’ve never been as turned on as you are now.

When he said he wanted to claim his prize, you assumed he meant he wanted to cum. You assumed he wanted to use you so that he could achieve that. But you were wrong; you misjudged him, as you often do.

He isn’t an immature fuckboy who only wants one thing from you. He’s already had it, and he still comes back to you. He wants more. He needs more. You aren’t an object to him, and you certainly aren’t an easy screw.

Fucking you has never been his prize.

It’s you.

It’s always been you.

You tug his hair roughly as your body begins to shudder, overcome with the realisation that he cares for you and not just your body. He releases his hold of himself as he once again decides to prioritise you. He grabs your hips and buries his face even further into your cunt, his licks and laves unrelenting as he torments your clit until it can’t take anymore.

“S-Sukuna!” you cry out, convulsing as your thighs clamp around his head. He doesn’t even mind. He spanks you, but there’s no intent to it. The water makes the slap louder than you’d have liked. But, again, neither of you seem to care.

He continues to moan as he devours your release, humming into your core greedily before he finally frees you. His face shimmers as he looks up at you, a look of contentment as his features are doused in a combination of the water and your arousal.

Your arms wrap around his neck as he kisses you again, and you’re soon caged between his body and the wall. You can barely think straight as water rains down on both of you, the shower doing all it can to wash away the evidence of Sukuna’s bloody brawl from his pretty face.

“You taste so fuckin’ good baby,” he mumbles clumsily against your lips, offering you praise to consume before kissing you again. “You make me fucking crazy y’know? Think about you all the time…”

“Shut up.” you laugh.

“I mean it. Don’t laugh.” he smiles down at you as he withdraws from the kiss. “You think you know everything, don’t you?”

“We’re just fucking. You’re so—”

“You talk too fucking much. You know that?” he smirks. He turns you around with ease, pressing your cheek into the damp tiles as he sucks your neck and bites your shoulder. “Think I better bury my cock in you, might stop you from thinking so much.”

You don’t say another word, allowing him full control of your mind body and soul as you succumb to his will. There’s nothing for you to grab onto despite aimlessly searching as his cockhead teases your entrance. He notes your desperation, tugging your wrist into the small of your back as he uses it for leverage while he slowly pushes into you.

He snickers as you emit a resounding moan from being stretched to your limit. It doesn’t matter how many times you do this, you’ll never get over how truly monstrous his length is. So thick and heavy, so long and suffocating. With each slow rut of your hips, you can’t help but think his cock is closing your airways.

You feel him so deeply, so intimately, you can’t stop yourself from whimpering as he fucks you harder.

Harder.

Harder.

With no desire to rush, each stroke is slow and purposeful. Your body feels weak, and weaker still as he begins to pepper your bare skin in adoring kisses. It’s almost as if you could slip down the drain and wash away with the rest of the water.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, gruffly, grabbing your jaw to angle your face so that you’re looking at one another. “Tell me.”

“Y-You,” you answer, pathetically, and he doesn’t allow you to say another word. Not before forcing his tongue into your mouth, silencing you with a searing kissing.

“Do you want to cum, hm? Do you want to cum on daddy’s cock?”

“… Yes,” you reply, your voice nothing but a desperate rasp as you long for him to make you feel good the way only he can.

And you’re taken aback as he begins to move, you both do. Suddenly you’re facing the shower again, and you hunch forward as he reaches above you to pull it off the hook. You don’t see the grin on his face as he observes your bewilderment. You watch the metallic head lower with the intensity of a hawk.

You know what he’s doing, but you also can’t help but think you might be imagining things. He’s doing what you had done to yourself for so many years before you knew about sex toys, before you even knew why it felt so good when you let the water massage you there.

But he is.

He shoves the showerhead between your folds, the stream of water assaults your clit in a way you’d almost forgotten could be so satisfying. The pressure makes you scream, but he’s quick to cover your mouth. The shock of the showerhead had distracted you from the fact he’s still pounding into you. His pace quickens and your mind goes blank.

“Thought you didn’t want Megumi to hear? Am I making you feel too good, princesss? You wanted to cum, so you’ll cum like this.”

You nod, pitifully, too eager to finish again to think of a clever retort.

Two fingers penetrate your mouth in a bid to silence you. And you never disappoint him, it’s like he has you trained. You suck, humming contently around his digits as his thighs slam against yours again and again and again.

Your knees give in, finally, as you cum for him. He does his best to hold you in place, careful to not let you fall as your body quivers. You’re weary, he knows.

But he’s more determined than ever, now.

He puts the shower back in its place, the water becomes a blanket for you as you still continue to tremble through little aftershocks.

His movements are quicker and harsher. The warm water contrasts how you feel, how he’s holding you. He’s a behemoth of a man, without really trying you know you’ll be bruised tomorrow. Especially your thighs. The way he’s ramming into you with one goal in mind makes you heady, but all you can do is drool around his fingers.

“Fuck,” he grunts, somehow still finding the energy to fuck you harder. His fingers dig into your hips, and his breathing becomes jagged. He cums hard for you, moaning loudly as he does. It comes deep from his lungs and gives no attempt to stifle himself, it’s almost like a roar.

A beast claiming its kill.

A king claiming his prize.

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he murmurs, once again decorating your cold skin in loving kisses.

You feel empty as he pulls out, but he doesn’t care. He pulls your body into his, wrapping his muscular arms around your frame. His lips are on yours and you feel like this is your reward. Feeling so safe and loved in his hold despite knowing what you know.

He isn’t the type of man to hold affection for, and deep down you know what you are to each other. No matter what he says you aren’t stupid. You aren’t foolish enough to think this thing between you is anything more than sex.

But right now, you don’t care.

You do feel love from him and for him.

“Will you stay?” you ask sheepishly. Despite immediately regretting asking, you can’t help but stare into his eyes as you await his answer.

And instantly, he nods. “Yeah, princess. I’ll stay.” he kisses your forehead. “Let’s get cleaned up first.”

© 2024 rinhaler

[samodivaa]

Bucky with an oral fixation due to his anxiety so you let him suck your big tits (smut)

Bucky’s heart may fail him in so many horrors—both in waking, from his nerves, and in sleep, from his nightmares, because the punishment of his disordered mind is its own disorder. A disorder nobody else has. There is no cure, but he is trying to master it, he is learning to live with it—just as he has learned to live with other storms of his mind. The impossibility of love? He has you now. The past can't be annihilated, it is a part of him. Regret, denial, sadness—it leads to anxiety and his habit of always chewing on something—gum, sweets. He holds his breath, a desperate attempt to slow down his heartbeat, a desperate attempt to get away. One second. Two seconds. The moment he chews on the pencil you gifted him for that purpose, he is feeling better. No amount of him trying to explain himself is doing any good, he doesn’t even know what is going on inside of him—but your observation is the first step of the inner unfolding, of finding a solution to every problem he has. You create so much love, compassion, equanimity and joy in his mind that he doesn’t feel ashamed or judged. But seeing him biting down on that pencil—once you've seen how broken he is, it's like seeing him naked. How can you help now? “Bucky, why don't you suck on my tits instead?”

His gaze, though almost improper, is the most sensual thing he could have done at the moment, and it jolts your heart into a strange rhythm, leaving you unable to speak. There is lust and then there is love. They are related, but still very different things—you surge forward, crossing the final, tiny gap and pressing your lips to his. It is desperate and frantic, but the feel of his mouth against yours sends a bolt of electricity straight down your spine. Bucky grips your waist and lifts you off the ground with ease, dropping you softly on the luxurious white linen bed. He gets on top and the gentle, erotic pressure of his mouth on yours, the compelling pleasure of his kiss—the world stops and all the silence, but for your hearts, trying to synchronize your crashing. It is all the thrill of these kisses, of your new naughty suggestion. It is the impatience of the way he tears your shirt from your body, that really turns you on—lust getting the better of him, Bucky is a gentle lover, but not today which makes a jolt of some foreign but not unwelcome sensation pierce you. He leans down, his breath hot against your ear as he mutters out: “I already love that idea, baby”

You let out an involuntary airy moan as he grabs them in his palms, his huge hands palming your tits, kneading gently at first before he rubs his palms in circles. He rolls one nipple between his fingers, humming in satisfaction as it hardens under his touch before he begins to suck on it while massaging your other tit. He's drooling, swirling his tongue over it before biting gently the nipple and he is thankful that your head is thrown back so you don't look how desperate he is. How fucked up he is. He fully embraces the deliciousness of this sin, the calmness that it brings to his mind and all you want to drown his worries. You want him to do something totally unlike himself and it is working—but this lust is something close to anguish, because he needs to stop eventually and he doesn't want to. He leans back a bit, searching for your eyes as he struggles to breathe, focusing on his lungs, on his ability to take deep breaths, to soothe with oxygen—the vast ocean of blue that is his eyes, remarkably focused and soft at the same time. “I love it, I love how big they are” he says thickly and completely without shame. He bites down on the curve of your breast, breathing softly on top of the skin “Can’t stop,” he says, the words coming out like a caress. He says it again, over and over. A litany. As your clothed cunt contracts at the friction against his pelvis, his words, you can feel him, hips bucking slowly up into you. He latches his mouth directly on your other nipple, making you cry out as he envelops a part of your breast into his mouth, a hand coming up to play with the other one. “Bucky—enough”  Your hands go to his hair as he sucks sharply on the breast, but you can’t pull him away. You can’t help the whimpers that escape you, the long drawn out sobs that punch out of your throat whenever he bites a little harder, giving your other nipple a harsher tug as a punishment every time you try to push him back. Sucking removes any daily existence from his mind, any anxiety, grounding Bucky firmly in the moment and dragging your body with it. Until he had enough. What a beautiful madness, he never felt so relaxed.

[bigfatbimbo]

How about dragging a sleepy Lucifer away from his work? As he insists that he just needs "5 more minutes" as his eyes are closed and he's laying half limp in your arms. Sleepingly mumbling that he can get ready for bed himself as you wash him up and then carry him to bed.

(I imagine that he doesn't usually get taken care of like this. He's much more used to falling asleep at his work bench and waking up with a sore back and a pounding headache. Even though he's embrassed about you seeing him in a such a state, and feels a little guilty about you being "forced" to take care of him, he can't help but lean into your soft touches)

- 🎀

a/n — GOD THIS IS SUCH A CUTE PREMISE HES SUCH A WORKAHOLIC HE NEEDS TO BE TREATED LIKE THE PRINCESS HE IS <33

You had knocked on Lucifer’s already half opened door to his workshop, making it creak loudly.

You scanned the room quickly, taking in the mess. There were rubber ducks everywhere, trash on the floor, scrapped projects scattered across the various tables.

And then your eyes fell on Lucifer, head resting on his desk, looking perfectly sound asleep. You internally roll your eyes, not understanding why he does this to himself.

Causally you make your way over to Lucifer, picking up pieces of trash on the way and organizing things here and there, hoping to make the room look less chaotic.

When you finally get to the sleeping demon, your hands gently rub his back, coaxing him awake.

He groans quietly, “‘m so close to finishing just,” he yawns, “just five more minutes…”

His sentence trails off unconvincingly and you scoop him up bridal style in your arms. He nuzzles into your chest and wraps his arms around your neck to subconsciously bring you closer.

“I think you’re about ready for bed, honey,” you say sweetly, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“nonono, this is important…” he trails off before regaining his strong of thoughts, “important stuff, very important. ‘m gonna finish it tonight.”

“Uh-huh,” you smile fondly as you place him down on his bed. He continued quietly stammering about all the work he was getting done while you undress and place him in his pajamas.

Which mainly consisted of his boxers and an old t-shirt. Then, you got an old towel damp and began wiping off the dust and grime from his work table that had ended up on his face when he fell asleep.

He whined at the cold feeling of the water. You shushed him softly and, after you were satisfied with your work, you crawled into bed next to him.

Wrapping your arms around him, you heard Lucifer release a long content sigh, nuzzling his back into your stomach. He was absolutely adorable like this, being held by you.

It didn’t take long for him to fall fast asleep.

The early morning light beamed in from the window and fell on Lucifer’s face, waking him up from one of the best sleeps he’d had in a while. He took a moment to assess his situation, a warm comfy bed instead of his workbench, a loose t-shirt and—

and your arms wrapped around his middle, pulling him closer to you. He might as well have slapped himself on the forehead right then.

Not only did he not get any work done, he had made you take care of him in the process. How humiliating.

You stirred behind him, “Good morning, baby.” You place a kiss on his neck as a greeting.

He was silent for a moment.

“You— you didn’t have to do that,” he spoke quietly, ashamed of himself.

It took a moment for you to remember what exactly he was referring to.

”No, I didn’t,” you say, unslinging your arms from around him. He silently mourned the loss of contact.

“But I wanted too,” you caress his cheek with your thumb. “I want to see you well rested, Luci. That’s why I took care of you. Simply because I wanted too.”

Once again, he had to pause before he spoke. This time, however, it was because he felt tears well up in his eyes and he didn’t want to cry in front of you. Not after giving you all that trouble.

“I just don’t understand why you would want to,” he said simply, looking down.

You sat up and paused, trying to think of the best way to go about the situation.

In one simple motion you lunged for him, both of your hands resting in his jawline and you peppered him with kisses all over his face.

“What are you—“ he couldn’t help but smile, “What are you doing, y/n, oh my goodness!” He giggled loudly as you assaulted him with your lips.

“I just,” you said as you placed multiply kisses on his cheek, “think your,” more on his nose, “amazing.”

You finish on his lips, a peck and first and then a deeper tender kiss.

When you finally pull away he looked dazed, “Well it’s, um, it’s hard to argue with that, my love.” A small giggle escaped his lips one last time.

You leaned back on the bed and opened your arms to him, inviting him in.

This time, he launched himself towards you with no protests.

Only slightly teary eyes as he buried his head into your chest and sank into your arms.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hi !!!! I’m sorry if this is bothering you and if so you can totally ignore this but…

I’ve been thinking about how Ghost would react to reader gradually pulling away from him because she gained some weight and is self conscious and ashamed and doesn’t want to be seen by him, so sculpted and beautiful… but of course he’s feeling low because he wants to be close to reader and so he asks and she finally explains it to him (ready to be broken up with…)…. And I’d love to read your take on it !

You can make it female or gender neauteal I don’t really care !!!! Thank you anyway ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Wildflowers Grow in Ruins

(Ghost x F!Reader, word count: 5 k)

Summary: Reader tries to break up with Ghost because she thinks she's not good enough for him.

Tags/warnings: FLUFF, soft sensual smut 🔞, hurt/comfort, light angst, Jealous!Ghost, Soft!Ghost, self-loathing & self-body shaming. Good girl talk/praise kink. Reader is female and wears a skirt for smut plot purposes.

A/N: I hope you like this take & I hope you don't mind that I tweaked this request just a little bit!) Also: JFC I'm wordy. The "I need to explain why they're fucking!" meme comes to mind every time I write anything.

Wars are exhausting. 

You know fighting for something can empower people. Fighting against something usually just depletes your strength.

But waging a war against yourself… 

Now that is pure hell. 

It started somewhere in your youth. You thought adulthood would take it away; that reason and tolerance would take it away. You were supposed to feel more confident in yourself, more positive about life. And for a moment, you thought you might just succeed.

But standing beside a god of war is no easy feat.

He came into your life like a walking myth, swept you away, and you only laughed as you went. It was fun at first. He was supposed to be your savior, the solution to all your problems. If a man like him found you attractive, perhaps it was the world that was crooked and not you.

But then you got soft: you started to gain pounds. Meanwhile, he became even more magnificent. It reminded you that it had all been just a dream.

Perhaps it was his eyes that seemed to worship you, that seemed to look past your every flaw. Perhaps it was the hands which never seemed to get enough of your skin. Whatever it was, it was too much. And at the same time, never enough.

The day has finally come to let him go.

You think yourself heroic. It's like it should be: it's only right that you finally release him to someone better than you.

But inside, the noble feelings twist and turn and curl around your throat and stuff your stomach full of ice - the kind they fill glasses of mojito with. The drink you'll always remember him by because he teased you about it: that you wanted an ice-cold summer drink even in the middle of winter.

Now you feel cold all over, and wish he could warm you like he used to. 

You would forsake all the mojitos of the world to keep him. You would renounce the whole drink if it came to that; if you could make him yours.

But he's not yours. He never was: he was just on loan to give you a taste of what it would be like to have a man like him. That taste should be more than enough for a lifetime. You should feel grateful.

So why is it so hard to let go?

The key on the front door turns, and your heart shoots up your throat: you're supposed to settle this thing once and for all. You're supposed to let go of him today. 

And still, when he arrives, you can't find the courage to say what you need to say. The words are stuck in your throat, but tears are not. He should already be a memory, but you find yourself suffocating on memories as you cry. You've learned to do even that in silence, like the rest of your suffering.

You take a few deep breaths, wipe the tears away, shove the rest of them down your throat – you save them for later, later, when he's far away and you can finally curl up and cry your heart out without no one there to look. Fucking later.

Good. 

Good.

Great.

You put your heaviest armor on. It protects weak and soft flesh because you can't meet him all bare. Then you step forward with the knowledge that you’re a thoroughly wounded guerrilla while he is a seasoned, well-rested veteran. The fight is nowhere near even, but it's ok. You are not meant to be in the presence of immortals anyway.

The man looks at you warily as you finally enter the room. That haunted look has followed you for some time now as the distance between you has grown. 

It should be easy, what is about to come, because he hasn't touched you in weeks. You haven't wanted him to.

Or you have… But it's not easy to have his hands on you when your body is only a vessel you hate. How can you even think about pleasure when all you think about is how it must feel for him to caress something as awful as this?

The man is a vision, and he settles for a peasant. It should be against the law, but it's not… so you figured a some time ago that you should simply find the strength and grace to do ii: do what's right.

"I need to talk to you." 

Your voice comes out neutral, and it makes you more confident, if only for a second or two.

He lifts his chin: already knows what's coming, because he's not stupid. You've been shutting down for weeks, and he hasn't done much about it. But when the thunder rolls in, he doesn't flee. Probably because he fears nothing.

"Go ahead then," he says, equally as neutral, equally as icy. Got his armor on, too. 

This should be easy…

It's really not, so you decide to rip the band-aid off in one yank.

"I think we should go separate ways."

The following inhale from across the room pierces the air like a bullet. You can hear his breaths gain depth and speed all the way to where you're standing.

"Ok."

It doesn't look or sound like he's ok. If anything, he looks like he's trying to process the sudden storm. 

"Ok…" His eyes are on the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. Then he starts to pace around the little kitchenette you've shared for almost six months, just before you started gaining weight.

He stops to look out the window, then turns to you, and the hurt in his stare comes through like a thousand needles pushing through skin.

"Is it because of my work?" 

"No."

"What is it then?"

Your breaths are getting out of hand, too. He looks like a lost, tired creature in an abandoned animal shelter for a moment, and it breaks your heart. It squeezes the organ inside a flaming fist until it shatters like it has never been nothing more than ice.

Your lip starts to tremble, and he notices, as per usual. Nothing escapes this man, except perhaps the true reason for your anguish.

"Hey. Hey."

He comes to you and hugs you like it's the only thing that matters: to comfort you when he sees you're about to cry, no matter how crushed he's feeling himself. The sudden warmth, the intimacy after weeks and weeks of pain is knee-buckling. 

"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

His voice is soft, so soft… The tears rush forth now; there's no way of stopping them. What the hell can you even say to a question like that? That you wish he could grab a magic wand and turn you into someone gorgeous, the woman he deserves?

His embrace feels good, kind of. It also feels smothering because your self-hate makes you want to disappear from existence entirely. His eyes are equal to physical touch, a probing scan that sees every little flaw, not to talk about massive faults, the ones which make you feel like you're simply disgusting. His touch only reminds you how you must feel like to him: soft, too soft, weak.

And he must hate weakness.

"What do you need me to do? I'll do anything," he tries with a parched throat, then swallows. 

It's fucking horrible. This isn't going at all like you had imagined.

"It's not about you," you struggle out of his hold, and he lets you go with reluctance. You have to basically fight your way out of a bone and steel prison. Why would he even want to hold a pathetic woman who's on the brink of ugly crying on top of everything?

"What do you mean?"

He's slightly breathless – and restless as fuck. He's usually so calm; nothing can get to him, nothing can rattle the tower of raw strength. Now you've not only pierced some invisible armor; you can hear pieces of it falling on the floor.

"Have you found someone else?"

What the…

"No." You put as much weight on that word as you possibly can. To imagine that he thinks you are cheating… Fucking cheating on someone like him. "Jesus Christ…"

He takes a deep breath and sighs deeply, sighs out relief, perhaps. Then his razor-sharp stare fixes on you again, and you can see the fear turning into something akin to concern. You suspect you have to tell him the truth, otherwise he will dig it out of you. 

"I'm just…" 

Jesus, this is just humiliating. 

"I'm just not your type."

"What the hell are you talking about," he mutters, the impending fury giving way to momentary surprise. 

He gets intense sometimes. This time, the ferocity is born of barely concealed distress. He's broad and magnificent, even in despair. He’s just so fucking fine… The perfect man, someone you had never even imagined yourself with. Pulled down to the world of puny mortals, evidently stressing about losing one. 

Losing you.

"If you have someone new, you can just bloody well tell me."

"It's not that. You don't understand–" 

"Try me."

"I just…" A tear escapes down your face as you finally break for him. "I'm fat. Okay? And ugly. And–"

"Stop right there."

The look on his face is just… It's priceless, you suppose.

"Bloody fucking hell…" 

He looks at the floor, then runs his fingers through the short cut hair on top of his head. You've yanked those blonde strands more times than you can count, nearly every time he's been between your legs, and you miss it – you long for it, like fallen angels long for heaven. 

And if there was a time this man was rendered speechless, you would say you were witnessing that moment right now. His brows knit together, then he looks up at you again with blaring disbelief.

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

"This is the reason you wanna break up?"

Ugh.

"Yes?"

His voice grows rougher with every question until it resembles thunder, and you suspect this is the commanding tone his soldiers are used to hearing. 

But you're not: it's gravelly, harsh, and betrays the feeling of having been insulted. You feel even more devastated with yourself – it appears you can do nothing right.

"Where has this… idea even come to your head?"

"I don't know." 

"And you never thought to ask my opinion?"

"Would you please stop yelling," you whisper and blink back some putrid tears. His mouth is snapped shut, his head pulls back just a little as he realizes what he's done. 

"Sorry," he says with a half-whisper, and you catch the strain in his throat. You've never seen him cry, but now his voice is suddenly thin and frail. "I'm sorry."

He takes a step, then another, places fingertips on the counter as if to take the faintest support.

"Can I touch you?"

You don't really want him to do that, but you feel pity for the man. He's trying to find a way through this mess, and you want to help him.

"Yes," you whisper, and he immediately comes and takes you in his arms again. Hot tears disappear into his shirt, and you sniff a few times. He feels so good, so safe, even when you're about to lose him. His hold tightens around you, and the kitchen is silent; the whole world is silent. You don't know if you're being put to a grave or if you're in a deaf womb, waiting to be reborn.

"Now I don't know who's said this shite to you but ugly is the last fucking thing I'd call you," he declares above you. As if it was some bully whose fault it is that you were this way, a bully he could deal with with his fists or a gun. If only things were that easy…

"Have I said or done something? To make you feel this way?"

Then the blade is turned against himself. The man desperately searches for a culprit so he can deal with them.

"No," is the only thing you can say because it's true: he has never done a thing to make you feel like you weren't good enough; quite the contrary. But then again, he doesn't have to. It's enough that he exists and resembles a god.

"Then why do you think you're not my type?"

"Because you're so perfect," you hear yourself wail, no, cry into that shirt that smells of sweet safety and familiar musk – his scent, another thing you have missed like it's the only way to heaven.

"That for sure ain't true."

"But it is."

He seems to have the utmost difficulty in grasping what the issue here is. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head with a rusty, laborious creak.

"Can't believe you wanna break up because of this," he finally says. You've chipped his pride, the ego that lives off of pleasing the ones he loves: the few chosen ones who he wants to give his whole life to. 

"To me, you're perfect," he then says, and you simply… You stop breathing. "You're like… my dream woman. Ever thought about that?"

It can't be true, even if you vehemently, desperately want it to be. You reach out to his words like they're precious food after years of famine. Like they're sun and spring rain after being buried in the cold, dark soil whole winter.

"No…?"

"Never occurred to you that I might find you fucking beautiful?"

"Stop," you whisper, because it's too much to take in. He sounds so serious, so sincere.

"No, I don't think I will."

He pulls back a little and cups your face. Brushes away a tear, looks at you with so much love that it physically hurts; you feel like it's a lance that slowly drives through your heart.

"How about I kiss every part I love about you?"

You let out a soft little whimper. Fuck, that you want him to… 

It would also be uncomfortable as hell. To try and let him love you and your body, which you have grown to loathe.

"It's gonna take all night, though. Wanna be as thorough as possible."

"Simon–"

"Love. I want you. Thought I'd made it pretty clear, but apparently I haven't. If you only knew how much–"

He sighs deeply. The man is frustrated with his shortcomings, thinks that this is all his fault. You cry a tear or two just for the sake of how absurd it all is. 

"I don't want you to go. I fucking love you. Everything about you."

For the second time this afternoon, your lower lip starts to tremble as if this was some stupid, romantic movie. He can be so soft when he wants to, more romantic than the soft-spoken gentlemen in Jane Austen's novels. It doesn't even require any effort: underneath the cynical surface, there's fiery emotion, so powerful and raw that it almost bleeds out of him. Fuck… Does he even know what he's doing to you?

"I love you too," you whisper back, and the warmth that starts to bloom in his eyes is an entire sun on its own. It's hope, and you believe him, almost believe him.

"Then I'd say it's a bloody bad idea to break up."

You chuckle while few more tears push through to the surface.

"Simon…" You sigh and look back up at him, your armor falling to the floor too. "I feel like a wreck."

You allow him to see the pain, all of it. His breath is sharp as it hits him, but he still doesn't waver.

"Then let me help you."

The arms around you gain more strength, and you're crushed against a chest made of power. He tries to turn shit to gold, and threatens to succeed. You allow yourself to soften in his hold. How good it feels to be supported – no, loved.

"You don't even let me touch you anymore."

It's a filed complaint, but also heart-rending, soul-wrenching longing. You have evaded him for weeks now – hell, this shit began months ago and has escalated gradually, stealthily, until the moments together were a rarity, the space between you was full of frost; and not the crispy, happy summer drink kind.

"I thought you'd found someone else. Could've found out if that was the case in minutes, but honestly, I didn't wanna know."

Oh my God…

Has he lived with a growing suspicion and dread all these months? 

That would explain why he has avoided you too…

He has allowed you to go to your supposed lover, has given you space to be alone and without too much attention. The man has shielded himself from pain. 

Jesus fucking Christ.

"I'm so sorry," you say with a strained little breath. "I swear it's nothing like that. I just… I feel like a mess."

"Never seen such a gorgeous mess." 

He speaks on your skin, the kiss on your forehead feels like an absolution. 

Then you notice it's not only his words which try to assure you. He's growing harder by the minute against your stomach, just from a simple hug. Just from being pressed against you like this, after weeks of dry, bitter longing.

"Miss your taste," he murmurs to your skin, his voice like sand wrapped in burning velvet. "The sounds you make when you want it hard."

Oh God–

"Miss your smile when we go to shower after."

"Hmh…"

"Don't wanna live without that smile."

You don't have to. 

God, you don't have to…

"How about we make a deal," he draws fingers down your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. His eyes are stripped from the cold distance that greeted you just moments ago: now they are filled with warmth that spreads to your chest and belly and bones. You drink him in like summertide.

"You come to me every time you feel bad and I'll make you feel good. Alright?"

"...Ok." 

He tilts his head a little to the side, not entirely satisfied with your shy little answer.

"Come on. Make me believe it."

"It's a deal," you say with more grit to it, even if you're nearly crying again, this time from relief.

"That's my girl."

Oh fuck…

He knows exactly what strings to pull, the good girl talk being one of the things that instantly makes your legs feel like jelly. 

And why does he always have to use that voice when he calls you a good girl or his girl, that sultry smoke that makes you want to swoon until he catches you and carries you to bed?

The man seems to be a mind reader as well, because he sweeps you off your feet and does exactly that: carries you to your bed which has mainly seen silent tears and painful sleep last months.

"Poor thing doesn't even know how lovely she is."

He sounds amused in the face of your darkness: sees it in full and still doesn't fear at all. He's ready to battle your demons for you, and you feel like shaking: from his touch and that voice, from the stress and loneliness that starts to release as he lays you down on the bed.

He looks so different from the man that has haunted this place for the past months, the complete opposite of the reserved soldier retreating into the shadows.

He moves to kiss you, and it's been – what? Weeks since your last kiss? And even that was only a quick peck, nothing like this… Wet, and desperate; a devouring. It makes you clench around nothingness, and you finally surrender. 

No one can fake such fervor.

You try to accept it: accept the fact that even if you hate yourself, he does not. For some reason, he adores you. His breaths hit your face hot and urgent, and he can't keep his hands to himself anymore. They wander over your waist and hips, they even risk to steal a feel of your breasts, and then he groans in your mouth.

"I've missed you. Fuck, I've missed you..."

You taste notes of burning leaves; tobacco, his only weakness. You fantasize on the thought that you might be another weakness, too.

"Remember when I fucked you in my office?"

"I've missed you too," you utter softly in between the kisses that threaten to turn into a sloppy mess. "So much..."

He smiles at that, and it makes you weak, even when lying down like this.

"Yeah…?"

"You were so loud I had to put a hand over your mouth."

His voice is thick as he laughs a short chuckle. Your inner walls clench again at the sound, you throb among the warm syrup surrounding you.

"Never seen you so wet. Almost dripped all over my gear."

"It's that stupid mask you wear," you hear yourself breathe like you've just been underwater. Feel yourself throb some more, feel a burning sensation in the nether areas from the scorched desert turning wet again. You want him so much that it actually hurts down there.

"Knew you'd like it. That's why I kept it on."

If this man keeps talking, your underwear is going to be utterly ruined. And of course he does; of course he continues to pour more love in your ear.

"Everyone looked at you like you were a queen," he grunts in your ear, sounding almost… pissed.

"Don't be ridiculous," you try to form sensible words. It's only a faint breath, really, but he huffs at your modesty. 

"You don't have eyes in the back of your head, love."

Wow… He is a bit pissed.

Had they checked your ass out when you visited him? 

It was the first and, what you thought, the last time you got to visit him at his workplace… but you never would have guessed the reason for him not asking you to visit again would be jealousy. 

"Don't worry. I put those fuckers in their place after you left." 

Whoa. 

Ok…

First, he had fucked you senseless in his office – a highly inappropriate move for a man in his position – then got jealous because some soldiers had checked you out as you left with his cum practically dripping from your cunt.

You put yourself in his shoes for a moment: he's had to live with thoughts of you running to some other man's arms when he's not home, and then watch you waltz around his workplace after making what was supposed to be the last effort to make him love you… When he has loved and adored you this whole time, has watched the sway of your ass with the rest of those home-deprived, horny soldiers, thinking you had fallen out of love and were on your way to go see some other guy.

Had he invited you there to try and win you back, too? By showing himself to you in all his puffed up, masculine glory? A desperate man in a skull mask, hoping to get love from you…

There's so many misunderstandings; they rip your throat. A sob escapes, and he stops his caress.

"Love… Tell me to stop if you–"

"No. No, I don't want you to stop." 

Your request comes out with such demand that he hesitates only a second or two. Then he moves on top of you and tugs your skirt up. You don't even have time to realize what is happening before he has worked himself out of his pants.

He's hard and heavy between your legs, and your eyes go wide as you realize he's not going to bother to take your briefs off. He just slides a hand under the skirt and draws the fabric aside, and the fat tip of him is pushed in the middle almost clumsily. It's hot, and slips down to your opening with ease.

Oh f–

"Been jerking off to you nearly every night at the base," he says just before he pushes himself in. 

"Uh–...."

Your thighs spread wide as he fills you slowly, inch after inch. The sound that leaves him is starved: a dry, painful sigh. He's been waiting for this for god knows how long, and you're just as hungry to take him in. He seems endless, the way he finally works himself fully inside, spreading you even wider as the thickening base of his cock reaches its end. 

"Thought you were getting railed by someone else while I only get to fuck my hand."

"Oh god…"

There's really nothing else to say as his balls press against you, heavy and taut. He's not going to last long.

"Yeah. Imagine that," he admits, breathless like you. 

You look at him with what must be the most helpless stare of longing in your eyes. Then he moves, and you want to grip him to keep him inside. The first thrusts are divine, they're pure heaven, and your head sinks deep into the pillow as you try to get enough air, try to not scream from pleasure already. Somehow, all you are able to utter is a desperate little whisper.

"Simon–"

His cock is good enough to bring tears to your eyes. You're starving too, you're pulling him in with fierce hunger, and he groans, then nearly falls forward, his weight pressing against you, swallowing you, until you feel like you're an idiot for thinking that you're too big. The thickness of his chest rubs against you as he makes love to you with passion that echoes the first times you did this.

"Just wanna adore you, love." He's panting desperate somewhere above you. A god and a man, both furious and gentle. "I wanna adore you. Just like this."

You answer him with what must be those sounds he told you about, the sounds you make when you want it hard. 

You want him to fuck you, to wreck you after weeks of loneliness and hate. To love you until you break into a million pieces.

"Simon," you whisper. "...Love me."

He halts, huffs in your neck. It's almost a sob. There's so much emotion and desperation in the air that it could be scooped up and sold in the streets.

"Always," he rasps in your ear, then moves to kiss you again. "Always."

The promise echoes around you, it coats your lips as he loves you with all he has. It's been so long, and he feels so good that you nails dig into his shirt, his shoulder, you try to hold onto him even though he's the wave that rocks you.

"You feel that?" He goes deep; he's out of breath and desperate, even more desperate than you. "That's love. You feel it, yeah?"

"Yes," you sob in his shoulder, tears trying to escape your waterline as you're going dumb from the pure sensation, the sensuality of it all. 

"That's it, love. That's a good girl," he turns to your neck and gruffs in your ear as you whimper and moan. "Always such a good girl."

Shit…

"I, I'm gonna…"

Your legs wrap around his middle, your muscles twitch and your hands reach and grab – they claw and yank and tug everything they can: his back, shoulders, shirt, something sturdy to keep you from drowning in a glorious orgasm.

He laughs in your neck and continues to grind you through your climax even when you're shattering, sighing, moaning, writhing under him. He just laughs, the man who never laughs: from witnessing you respond to him calling you a good girl.

Fucking bastard…

Lovable, infuriating bastard who knows you to your core. 

You're an overstimulated heap by the time he comes as well, not long after you, but long enough to make you feel like you're only a tender bunch of nerves. Your legs have fallen to the side, he has open access to take what he needs: you, your love, all of it.

His whole middle goes tense as he cums, he groans and swears somewhere deep into your neck, rolls his hips over and over again like it's a must that his balls press against you with every thrust that shoot his load. 

Then he falls slack, nearly collapses on top of you, reminding you of what it feels like to be small under a giant like him. You're throbbing together, you're full and fulfilled, and he is still lodged deep inside you, panting and broken in a sweat.

"Jesus Christ…" 

He sounds dazed. 

Relieved. 

"Should've done this weeks ago."

You laugh at seeing him so done – a man in love, torn by jealous yearning, finally taking what's his. You stroke his neck, his back – it's so good to have him finally there… So close, with no barriers in between.

"I should've talked to you weeks ago..." 

"Yeah. You should have."

"Are you going to punish me?" You giggle a little – the flirt is light and frees your heart further from its recent jail. He moves to look at you with all the tenderness there is. It's too much... His love is too much. But you won't run from it anymore.

"Nah. Think I'm gonna spoil you some more."

He spoils you right away with a kiss. You surrender to his treatment with happiness: happy tears, even. 

The medicine to your anguish has been the exact opposite to what you had first tried, what you had originally thought. The true remedy for your sickness is mercy. Perhaps some spoiling…

And love.

[toxicanonymity]

thoughts

1.6k / joel miller x virgin!reader / master

sequel to Aches but can read alone. Next: Needs. WARNINGS: I8+ mdni, big girthy age gap (20/50s) only one sleeping bag, pining, fingering, grinding, jacking off, hand job, mutual masturbation, innocence, pet names. No use of y/n.

🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤

“You don’t have to do it for me,” you whisper.  

The problem is, the more Joel relieves you, the more often you seem to ache.  The more you think about him and his body - his body pressed against yours, wrapped around yours.  Inside yours - It’s what you think about all day, every day now.  It’s getting really bad.  It’s hard to keep eye contact sometimes.  

-

Earlier, you were both rummaging through an abandoned convenience store. Joel walked up and asked, “Find anything ya like?”  You turned around and your eyes instantly fell on his tight jeans.  He followed your gaze down, then slowly stepped toward you.  “Hmm?” he prompted you.  

You stammered, “Sorry. What?”  

He smiled to himself.  “See anything ya like?” 

“I, uh-”  

“In the store, honey.”  He briefly glanced around the building.  “Find anything good?” 

“Oh.  No, I guess not.” Your whole face was hot.  

He cupped your burning cheek and his brow furrowed as he asked, “You okay, sweetie? You’re warm.” 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you whispered with your eyes drowning in his.  A pool was forming in your panties and his touch on your face made you throb between the legs.  It was that moment you realized how out of control your desires were getting.  It was a constant distraction. 

-

Now you’re huddled in his sleeping bag as usual.  Joel is spooning you with his hard dick pressed against you.  Your top leg is back slightly behind you, between his legs, to make room for his hand between your thighs. He’s two knuckles deep and you’re already close to falling apart. He’s been helping you for a couple of weeks now, and it gets easier and easier to let yourself come. 

“Course I don’t have to,” he says and pushes another finger into you.  You inhale a chest full of air as he pushes his digits to the hilt and curls them.  Your hips lift into his hand which was already soaked with your arousal before he inserted a single digit.  “Why? Want me to stop?” Your clit rubs against his slick palm as he expertly works his fingers. 

“No,” you whisper. “I don’t want you to stop.” 

“Good,” he murmurs, moving his fingers rhythmically as you grind into his hand.  Then he whispers in your ear,  “Cause I kinda like doin’ it.”  

You moan softly. 

“Ya know,” he says softly, “You might like helpin’ me, too.”  

You’ve thought so much about his cock.  You’ve felt it pressed hard against you so many times through his boxers and your panties.  You’ve never touched it though, not with your hands.  You haven’t felt the skin, except one time when it was accidentally peeking through his boxers and the tip touched your lower back, making a wet spot on your shirt.  When you flinched, he apologized. 

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Maybe.” 

“Why don’t we find out,” he murmurs. “try just a few seconds?”

You swallow, ashamed of your eagerness for anything involving his cock.  “Okay,” you say hesitantly.  

“Good girl.”  He takes his hand away from between your legs for just long enough to free his aching manhood from his boxers and lube it with your slick. “Gimme your hand, sweetie.”  

“I dunno how or anything,” you tell him. You clench your thighs together, still in need of relief.  You’re not sure if you’ve ever ached this badly.  

“That’s okay.  Don’t gotta do anything.” 

You slowly reach back, offering him your hand as you crane your neck to look to his eyes for reassurance.  It’s too dark to see, but you can still feel what his warm eyes would look like. 

“Think you’re gonna like this. But if ya don’t, ya don’t have to, okay?” He wraps your hand around his cock upside down. “Yeah,” he whispers.  “Just kinda hold it. That’s all ya gotta do.” His breathing is heavier with your hand touching his stiff cock. It’s larger than you thought it would be.  You always imagined you’d easily be able to wrap your hand around one.  

Joel thrusts into your slick hand and you feel a stab of need.

“How’s that?” he asks, thrusting slowly into your hand again with a barely audible grunt. 

“Good,” you whisper, holding your hand behind you. The skin of his shaft is so smooth. Now more than ever, you’re aching to be filled.  

“Attagirl,” he murmurs.  “Still want my help, right?”

“Yeah,” you breathe.  

“Good girl.” He reaches his arm over yours and slides his hand between your legs again. He softly groans when he feels how much wetter you are than you were just a minute ago.  All this, just from touching his cock.  “God damn,” he whispers. 

“What?”

“Nothin', baby.”  

It would be hard to say what you prefer - having his cock thrust into your hand or against your body. But finally feeling it naked, feeling its shape, the softness of the skin, the impossible firmness of the erection – it takes your breath away.  He slides two fingers into your cunt and pumps them at the same slow rhythm he’s thrusting into your hand. 

Your pleasure builds rapidly, and you badly need release. “Doin’ great, baby,” he says in a deep, gruff whisper. “Just perfect.” He gradually increases the pace,  moving his fingers and cock in unison.  His cock fills your hand as his fingers fill your dripping cunt.  You’re keenly aware of what you’d rather be filled with.  

He softly grunts into your hair.  “Ohh, yeah,” he sighs as he thrusts into your hand and pumps his fingers.

You whimper at the edge of your climax, your upper back pressing into his chest and your hips grinding desperately into his large hand as his fingers fuck you. Your whole body tenses. 

He talks you through it soothingly as usual, lips planted near your ear. “Yeah, baby,” he murmurs, “you’re there, I got ya.”  Your hips push desperately into the palm of his hand, and his hand pushes back just right.  You whine his name as your core finds its stuttering release. The pleasure is more explosive than ever.  

“Good girl,” he whispers.  You recover for a few seconds, then turn around to face him.  He quickly folds down the unzipped sleeping bag for more space and rolls onto his back.  “You wanna keep helpin’?”

You nod and whisper, “yeah.” Then you add “Am I doing okay?” 

“'Course you are, baby. Get your hand wet between your legs now,” he says, which embarrasses you.  

“Nothin’ to be ashamed of, remember?” 

You take his cock in  your hand again and he covers it with his, showing you how tight to grip it and how to stroke it over the head. 

“Good girl.” 

-

Once you’ve got the hang of it, he asks, “You like helpin’ me?” 

You nod as you keep stroking his cock.  

Joel says, “Mmm hmm,” and looks at you curiously.  “Why’d ya say I don’t have to help?” His breathing is still heavy, but he’s trying to control it as you talk. 

You open your mouth but hesitate to answer. Instead, you stare down into the darkness, imagining what his cock must look like based on all the details that are gliding in and out of your hand.  He’s soooo hard.  

“You can tell me anything, pretty girl.”  He takes a deep breath. “We figure stuff out together, remember?” He breathes again. “Always do.” 

“Yeah,” you whisper, then you swallow. “I dunno how to say it,” you admit.  

“Do your best,” he says. 

“Since you’ve been helping me, I’ve been feeling it more often.”

“You have?” he asks. “Like how?” His hips subtly move as you keep stroking his cock. 

“Like during the day.  Randomly.” 

“That’s okay, baby.” 

“But it aches, and it’s distracting.” 

“Distracting?”  His voice becomes more strained. 

“I have a lot of thoughts all the time.” 

“What kinda thoughts, baby?”  His voice has a sense of urgency. 

“About you.” 

He moans softly. “Uh-huh. Like what?” 

“Um-”

“Tell me anything, baby,” he quickly reassures you, nearly out of breath.   

“About this,” you whisper. You pause to give his cock a squeeze to make sure he knows that’s what you’re talking about.  “Yeah, about this.” Then you continue stroking.  

“Ohh baby,” he exhales. “Course ya do.” 

“All the time,” you whisper. 

“And what about it?”  he pants.  

“I’m not sure,” you mutter.  

“Thinkin’ ‘bout me bein’ inside you?” he asks, still panting.  He moans softly.  

“Yeah,” you whisper. 

“Ohhhhhh, God,” he sighs as he begins to pulse into your hand. “God damn, baby,” he breathes as he releases his last hot, sticky rope into your fist.   

-

Joel catches his breath, then says, “'Course ya have those thoughts, sweetie. I have the same thoughts. Everyone does."  

“You do?” 

“It’s normal,.  They teach biology in FEDRA school right?” 

“Yeah.”

“It’s biology, honey.  Our bodies feel things for each other.  They wanna be together in the way they’re meant to.  It’s how we work -  Nothin’ but science.” 

You’re not sure how that’s supposed to help you.  

He reaches for his backpack and grabs some paper to wipe off your hand and his stomach. 

“So what do I do about it?” you ask him. 

He’s quiet for a few seconds.  "Let’s think about it, honey.  We’ll figure it out together.” 

“Okay.” 

“We’ll figure it out, sweetie.  We always do.” 

“Yeah.” 

He wraps himself around you and kisses your head, then you say good night.  You think about what he said so matter of factly.  The thought of it excites you but also scares you.  Especially now that you’ve felt how big he is with your hand for scale. 

🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤

Thank you so much for reading and engaging.  Love you guys <33

if you like this, please check out my dbf x innocent virgin! reader fic Left in Lincoln (dbf x virgin) which has been ongoing since April. Read warnings. Also, my master list has a virginity section on it.

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-

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore  @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339   @manazo @wolvesandvampires  @taeslarityy  @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk  @filthfairy  @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles  @harriedandharassed  @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy  @cutesyscreenname  @weddingfairy  @pedropascal-whore  @spideysimpossiblegirl  @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz

[daisynik7]

Teach Me, Senpai!

Pairing: Ino x f!reader x Nanami

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.6k

cw: smut - threesome, spit-roast, PIV sex (doggy style), blow job, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, Nanami is sorta a perv oops, Ino calls Nanami senpai, a hint of a breeding kink, use of pet names, everyone is an adult here in case that doesn’t come across clearly

Summary: Takuma Ino is your silly, golden retriever boyfriend who brings you along to meet his mentor, Nanami Kento. You’ve heard a lot about him, mostly because your boyfriend constantly praises him for being so amazing. You underestimate how close their relationship is until Ino starts asking his "senpai" for pointers on how to spice things up in the bedroom. What better way to learn than to demonstrate, right?

Author’s Note: I'm currently in heat, can you blame me? I tried my best to edit and proofread, sorry if there are any glaring grammar mistakes or typos, please ignore! Tagging @todorosie @crazychaoticizzy @gojoloves @brightnessemma @batafuraikisu (I know you didn't ask, but I'm tagging you anyways bc ily and I think you'd like this lol). I'm sorry if I missed any tags, Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciate, thank you for reading! MDNI divider by @/cafekitsune.

“You’re going to love him, I swear!” Ino insists, dragging you down the hallway of the office building, past empty cubicles. It’s past five and all the employees are out for the remainder of the day. 

“I just don’t see why I have to meet him,” you argue, following him reluctantly.

“Because he’s important to me! He’s my mentor, my senpai! I have the highest respect for him, and I think it’s cool for you to finally put a face to a name. Aren’t you curious about the guy I’m always talking about?”

“Not really,” you answer, rolling your eyes. Honestly, you’ve grown sick of hearing your boyfriend gush so much about this Nanami fellow. You’re starting to feel jealous about how highly he thinks of this other man. “Why are we even here? This seems like a very random meeting spot.”

“We debrief here sometimes after our missions. He used to be a salary man, so I guess they still let him use the office.” They arrive at a closed door at the end of the hall. Ino knocks twice, a bright smile on his face, a little too excited for this.

A well-built blonde man answers, donning a blue dress shirt and spotted tie. You immediately notice how large his hands are, clenched to the door frame, staring at you from behind steampunk glasses. “Hello.”

“Nanami! Hey! This is my girlfriend, the one I’ve been telling you about.” You introduce yourself to him with a handshake, confirming that they are indeed very big compared to yours. You feel guilty noticing something that can be misconstrued as inappropriate, even lewd in most cases, so you quickly let the thought fade, stepping inside the room. 

It’s a normal looking office, quite barren, except for the few papers stacked on the desk and a map posted on one of the walls. There’s a single chair facing the table, so you take that as Ino stands beside you, arm around your shoulders. “Thanks for letting us stop by. I really wanted to introduce you two to each other.”

Nanami nods curtly, leaning on the edge of the desk in front of you. Your eyes almost drift toward his crotch, curious about his size, but you resist the temptation, ashamed of yourself for even imagining something so completely wrong, especially with your boyfriend right next to you. “You said you wanted to speak to me about something,” he says, focusing on Ino. He removes his glasses, tucking them in his breast pocket.

“Ah, right! Well, I’m a little shy to ask, especially since I haven’t mentioned it to her yet…” Ino scratches his nape nervously, tugging his beanie to cover his reddening ears.

You look at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

He bites his lip, choosing his words carefully before speaking. “Well, you know how you and I have been…you know, having some trouble in the bedroom?”

At that, you immediately freeze, gaping at him, shocked. A strangled noise comes out of Nanami’s throat, equally jarred.

Ino continues. “I want to get some advice from someone I really trust, like Nanami.” He glances between you, waiting for a response, an uneasy grin on his face. 

You’re stunned, heat surrounding your entire body now, mortified that your boyfriend would casually bring this up without any warning whatsoever. It’s no secret to either of you that your sex life has gotten a bit lackluster recently. Besides missionary and the occasional blowjob, there isn’t much else that you’ve tried in the bedroom. Neither of you are that experienced to begin with, and you both lack the confidence to initiate something different, something new. It’s a matter that you’ve been meaning to resolve privately. Or so you thought. 

No one speaks for what feels like an eternity. You’re tempted to grab your boyfriend and haul ass out of there, hoping this entire conversation can be forgotten or played up to be some kind of cruel, sick joke. However, you remain seated, curiously anticipating Nanami’s response. After all, you haven’t flat-out refused yet, and neither has he. 

Nanami clears his throat. “What kind of advice do you need?” You’re surprised that he’s even entertaining the idea. 

“I just want a few tips on how to spice things up,” Ino answers. “Make it more enjoyable for her.” He puts his arm around you again, squeezing your shoulder. You don’t know whether to punch him or kiss him; the arousal growing between your legs says the latter. The thought of another man who’s practically a stranger instructing your eager boyfriend on how to pleasure you is titillating and definitely something different, something new. You won’t deny it: you’re intrigued. 

Nanami crosses his arms over his chest, avoiding either of your gazes, focused on the floor instead. “I will help, if you both consent to it.”

Ino turns to you with puppy dog eyes. “Babe, you cool with this?”

Too invested now to refuse, you reply, “Sure.”

Your boyfriend lets out a sigh of relief, the tension relaxing in the air surrounding you. “Sweet. Me too.” He looks at Nanami, a bright smile on his face now, clearly thrilled about this. “What’s first, senpai?”

Nanami clears his throat again, standing up straight, taking a step towards you. “Well, foreplay is always a good place to start.”

Ino sticks his finger up. “Right! Foreplay. Uh, do you have a pen and paper so I can take notes…?”

“You don’t seriously need to take notes on foreplay, do you?” he snaps. “It’s as simple as kissing and touching on all the right spots.”

“What spots are those?” 

“It’s probably better if you ask her.” Nanami points to you, making direct eye contact. “Where do you like to be touched?”

You swallow hard, timid from being put on the spot like this. “Just the normal places.”

“The two of you have to communicate better if this is ever going to work out,” he says, a hint of impatience in his tone. “Show him.”

Committing to this fully now, you stand up, grab Ino’s hand and brush it against your lips. “I like it when you kiss me. And when you touch my lips.” 

He smiles at you. “That’s good.”

“You can also put your fingers in my mouth every once in a while. If you want,” you suggest, licking the tip of his middle finger. 

He smirks. “Yeah. I definitely want that, too.”

“Sometimes, it’s better to learn by doing it,” Nanami interjects, watching the two of you carefully. 

You gaze at Ino’s lips, then into his eyes, nodding. He leans in, kissing you slowly. He’s always been a good kisser, a great one, actually. The problem is that he’s too gentle with you. 

“Kiss her neck,” Nanami orders, arms at his sides now, hands clenched into tight fists. 

Ino follows, trailing down your chin until he’s at your neck, sucking on your skin. 

“Put your fingers in her mouth. She said she likes that, right?”

Ino hums, tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb before pushing it in. You surround him, using your grip to pump him in and out of you. His other hand drifts to your waist, teasing the elastic of your pants.

“Are you getting wet, sweetheart?” Nanami’s voice is low and sultry; the use of the pet name has you unraveling much quicker than you expect. Without thinking, you breathe out, “Yes,” pushing his fingers deeper down your throat. 

“Fuck, baby,” Ino moans, hot on your ear. “Where else do you want to be touched?”

You pull him out, swallowing your thick saliva, placing his hand between your legs. “Touch me here.”

Ino, eyes glossy with lust, slowly shimmies your pants down your legs, revealing your soaked panties. “Oh shit, you really are wet, fuck.”

“Eat her out,” Nanami demands. There’s a desperate gruffness in his voice that’s undeniable now, and one glance is all it takes for you to realize that he’s hard, an impressive bulge strained in his slacks. He shoves all his belongings off the desk, making room for you. “Here. Do it here.”

Ino curses under his breath, cock stiff in his sweats, leading you to the table, where you sit at the edge, spreading your thighs open for him. He slips your panties off, licking his lips before diving into your arousal, tongue pressed firmly on your clit. “Fuck,” you moan, squirming from the sensation. 

Nanami walks to the other side, near your head, staring at Ino’s face buried in your pussy. Instinctually, you reach for him, pulling him by the belt, tongue hanging out. His eyes flit to yours, surprised when you say, “Touch me, senpai.”

Ino moans into you, clearly turned on by it. Obliging, Nanami hoists your shirt off, leaving you in just your bra, which he hastily unhooks to bare your chest. Bending towards you, he wraps his lips around one breast, suckling at your teat, his hand working the other nipple, pinched between his fingers. You’re close to your climax; you just need a little bit more. As if he can read your mind, Nanami releases you with a pop, saying, “Suck on her clit until she comes. Fuck her with your fingers at the same time.” His sudden vulgarity spurs you on, grinding your hips against your boyfriend’s face, pulling Nanami back to your tits.

Ino muffles, puckering his lips around you, sliding his middle finger inside you. You throw your head back on the desk, ecstasy rippling through your entire being, knees shaking with sensitivity. 

“Yeah, she likes that,” Nanami purrs, flicking his tongue on your peaked nipples. “Put another in. One at a time, until she’s full.”

Ino manages to fit three of his digits inside you before you orgasm with him latched to your swelling bud, coating him in your slick. He doesn’t stop licking until you’ve come down from your high, pushing his head away, overstimulated. Nanami removes himself from you, unbuckling his belt, watching intently as your boyfriend slips his wet fingers inside your mouth. “Taste yourself babe. You’re so fucking good.” You slurp your own juices off him, pussy throbbing, aching to be fucked. 

“You like that, don’t you, sweetheart?” Nanami murmurs, shimmying out of his pants, erection protruding from his briefs. He palms it, rubbing his thumb over the wet spot oozing from the tip. “Ino, tease her a little bit.”

“Yes sir,” he salutes, pulling down his bottoms, cock sprung against the hem of his sweater. He taps the tip of his dick on your puffy bud, smiling wide as you writhe for him. “Damn, baby. I’ve never seen you this wet before.”

“It’s a good thing you came to me then, isn’t it?” Nanami mentions, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. “Now turn around for us, princess. It’s going to feel so much better for you like this.”

You obey, readjusting your body to bend over the desk, ass pushed towards Ino, desperate to be used by them both. Your boyfriend positions his cock at your entrance, huffing, “You ready, baby?”

“Yeah. Fuck me, Ino,” you moan. “Fuck me hard.”

He glides in slowly, stretching you out little by little, easing into you. Once he’s all the way in, groin pressed to your ass, he starts thrusting at a steady pace. It increases gradually until he’s pounding away at you, hitting that sweet spot over and over until your eyes glaze over, in a total state of bliss. 

Nanami studies you, enjoying the show until he notices you staring at the bulge in his briefs, tongue lolling, practically begging for him. He smirks at you. “You want all your holes stuffed, don’t you, sweetheart?”

You nod, drool leaking from the sides of your mouth, eyes weepy, peering up at him. How could he resist such a cock hungry slut like you? Especially when you look at him like this? 

“I’m going to give you my cock then. Think you can take it?” he asks, shoving his underwear off, cock flopping against his abdomen. 

“Oh yeah, she can fucking take it,” Ino grunts, hands gripped to your hips, still fucking you with fervor. “Right babe?” He delivers a fresh slap to your ass, which echoes off the walls of the office. 

“Yeah, I can take it,” you mumble, gulping down the spit collecting on your tongue. 

Nanami hums, satisfied with your answer, inching his dick closer to your mouth. “Open up for me, sweetheart.”

You do, swallowing him until he bottoms out to the back of your throat, testing your gag reflex. He stays still, staring at you, relishing this lewd sight. “Ino, your girlfriend looks so pretty with my cock in her mouth. Don’t you agree?”

“Fuck, yeah. So fucking hot how she just takes it. She’s a good girl, always has been,” he says from behind you, spreading your cheeks open to watch himself disappear into your pussy with each thrust. 

“You’re a lucky man,” Nanami mutters, tipping your chin up, gazing into your eyes. “And you’re a lucky girl, aren’t you? Getting fucked by your boyfriend and his senpai.” Nanami begins to move, pumping himself in and out of your hungry mouth, your tongue running along the underside of his dick. 

Ino shrugs his beanie off, running his fingers through his hair, damp with perspiration. “Oh fuck, baby, you’re taking us so fucking good.”

“Like a proper slut,” Nanami adds, tracing the outline of your lips, glossy with spit, stretched around his shaft. “Do you suck his cock as good as you suck mine?” 

You nod, swallowing your gag reflex as the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat with each solid thrust of his hips. Your second orgasm approaches quickly, your pussy clenching Ino’s cock, though you can’t say anything while gobbling up Nanami’s cock, so you let it be, continuing to be spit-roasted over the desk, thirsty for their cum.  

“Fuck, I’m going to come soon,” Ino says, slowing his pace. “I’ve never…I’ve never come inside her before.”

Nanami, still relishing his blow job, asks, “Why not?”

“Too scared to get her pregnant,” he admits. It’s true; Ino always pulls out, even when you beg him to finish inside you. You appreciate that about him, but in this moment, you want nothing more than his cream pie filling you up. 

“Is she on birth control?”

“Y-Yeah.”

Once again, as if psychic, Nanami responds, “Then I’m sure she wouldn’t mind getting your load just this once. Right, sweetheart?”

Your words are muffled. Nanami pulls out, cock wet with your spit, stroking it in his fist. “What was that, princess?”

“I said yes! Give it to me, Ino!” you whine, shaking around him. 

“Fuck, are you sure, baby? You sure you want it?”

“Give it to me. Want you to breed me,” you blurt out. 

“That’s it, that’s a good girl,” Nanami coos, slapping the head of his cock on your tongue. “How about here? You want it here too?”

You glance at Ino, who’s watching. He nods, licking his lips. “Yes. Want your cum inside me, senpai,” you reply. 

He smirks, pushing himself back inside you, his length sliding on every inch of your tongue. “Good girl.”

It doesn’t take long for both men to come, Ino shooting his seed deep into your womb, stuffing you full, Nanami spurting ribbons into your mouth, guzzling down each drop. They pull out slowly, cocks sensitive now from the stimulation. You roll over onto your back, catching your breath, looking up at them with a satisfied smile on your face. 

Nanami cups your cheek in his hand, thumb brushing delicately against your skin. “Such a messy girl. I think she needs a few more lessons. What do you think, Ino?”

Your boyfriend’s eyes are blown wide, staring at the lewd sight before him, your pussy leaking with his cum, your mouth drooling with Nanami’s. “Yeah. Definitely needs more, senpai.”

[everyonewooeverywhere]

pairing ✭ dom!yunho x f!reader

synopsis ✭ yunho loves you to the moon and back, but god if he doesn't love to make you cry.

content/genre ✭ smut 18+ MDNI

word count ✭ 1.5k

warnings ✭ smut, unprotected sex, choking, dacryphilia, slight degradation, yunho's a bit mean and condescending

notes ✭ i perhaps had way too much fun writing this, but i hope you enjoy it anyway.

thank you to my angels who read this ahead of time ( @beenbaanbuun, @ateez-main-yapper & @wooyoungmybelovedhusband ) and helped me edit it! sending you kisses 😚

✭✭✭✭

“You look so pretty like this, baby,” he breathed in your ear.

He had you exactly where he wanted you. Writhing in his lap, gripping his dress shirt for dear life as he pushed his fingers deeper inside of you. Your wet cunt left his hand an absolute mess as he curled his fingers where he knew you would feel it the most. 

“So so pretty,” he brushed the hair out of your face with his free hand and kissed your forehead. Your eyes fluttered at the feeling of his lips.

A soft whimper rose from your throat, “Yu…”

Oh, how he loved to see you like this. So fucked out on your own pleasure that he was giving you with only three of his fingers. He fucking loved knowing that the only thoughts in your pretty head were how much you needed him to keep going. Everything about you was so perfect. From the way you gasped every time he hit your sweet spot. To the way you could never keep quiet when he was giving you what you wanted. 

He couldn’t help but shut you up sometimes, though. “Open up,” he demanded, tapping your kiss-swollen lips with two fingers. You did as he said and let his fingers slip past your lips. He pushed them back far enough for a brief moment to hear you gag on them. He smiled, “Good girl.”

Yunho was so intuned with your body’s reactions to his touch that he could tell you were on the edge. Your legs shook as you reached your high. The bubble in your stomach threatened to burst. Your whole body ran hot as he worked you closer and closer

“Oh? Do you wanna cum?” he asked so condescendingly. His tone was so degrading that it made your heart flutter. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth.

You nodded frantically, pulling yourself closer into his chest, “Y-yes! Please! ‘m so close…” Your legs shook more violently, and you were right there on the edge when he pulled his fingers away.

Your head fell forward into the crook of his neck, “Please Yu, I’ve been so good.” You cried with your face pressed into his skin.

He tangled his hand in your hair and yanked your head back. The base of your scalp stung as he kept his grip strong.

Hot tears fell from your eyes. Yunho felt his cock twitch at the sight.

“Oh no,” he consoled in the most insincere manner that he could manage, “Why are you crying baby?”

He watched intently as your tears rolled down your cheeks and your neck. He couldn’t help himself when he leaned in to lick them off your cheek. His tongue was hot against your skin, and he felt your throat vibrate in a low moan at the feeling of it. 

“Were you close?” He whispered in your ear, his lips and tongue brushing the skin. You tried to nod, but his grip on your hair kept your head pulled back. “I’m sorry, angel. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging like that.” A lie.

You whimpered and rolled your hips, doing everything you could to give yourself some semblance of relief. Nothing could stop your tears from falling faster when you couldn’t get any. 

He let go of your hair and wiped a tear with his thumb. He pulled you into a kiss, a kiss so much softer than anything he had given you this whole time. “Don’t cry. I’m here.” He mumbled on your lips. He didn’t mean it, of course. He loved seeing you cry. Fuck, he needed to see you cry. He adored the way you couldn’t stop once you started. Whether it be from denying your orgasm over and over again or overstimulating you until you went completely numb, your tears were what got him off.

It used to be something he was ashamed of. Watching you cry over stress at work or seeing you sob about a character's death in a movie. All of it would turn him on so much. He wanted to comfort you and tell you it was gonna be ok. But he also craved your tears. You eventually caught on. Of course, you did. It was a little hard to miss how he popped a boner every time you were brought to tears.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it as much as he did. 

He lifted you off his lap and laid you on the bed, resting your head on his pillows. They smelt exactly like him, and you couldn’t help but inhale the scent. After discarding his clothes he crawled over you. 

The way you looked up at him with tear-stained cheeks made him groan. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he kissed the base of your neck. 

“You ready, love?” You nodded with ragged breaths.

Slowly, he pushed into you. You moaned, loud, at the feeling of him stretching you out. 

He swallowed thickly, trying to keep his own noises at bay, but he couldn’t help the involuntary groan that rose out of him when you tightened around him. 

It took no time at all for his fingers to find your neck. He softly brushed your skin as he thrust into you. Slowly. So painfully slow.

The hand on your neck tightened with each thrust. You felt lightheaded as leaned closer to your face. When you gripped his wrist, digging your nails into the skin, he smirked and pressed his forehead to yours. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” You let out a broken whimper. He chuckled, “Take a deep breath, maybe you’ll feel better.”

Your tears fell once again, and you could feel him twitch inside of you at the sight. “That’s it, baby. Cry for me.”

He lost control completely when your tears fell harder. His hips lost all sense of rhythm. He thrust into your dripping pussy with his only goal to fuck you into oblivion.

“God fucking dammit, angel,” he grunted, “I’m close.”

You were too, and he knew it. Your face grew hotter and hotter, and your grip on his wrist only tightened as he chase his own high.

“S-shit,” he was almost there, “Keep crying, baby. You can do that for me, yeah?” There was no need to ask. You had no control over the tears anyway as they fell in hot streams down your face. 

You were so fucking close. You could feel the pressure building as his thrusts lost even more control, “Yun-yunho,” his name came out in a broken moan as you came. Hard. Your legs shaking so uncontrollably that he had to brace one of them to his hip.

He followed close behind you. Finally releasing his grip on your throat when he came. You took a deep breath as he virtually collapsed next to you. 

Pulling you into his chest, he spoke softly, “You good, sweetheart.”

You nodded, closing your eyes and leaning fully into his chest, “Mhm.”

He held you in his arms for several minutes. Letting you ground yourself in the sound of his heartbeat. He ran his hands through your hair, detangling the strands with his fingers. It felt so good to have him care for you like that. Making sure that, even after he mocked and degraded you, you knew that he loved and cherished you.

“Yu…” you poked his chest.

“Yes, love?”

“I love you.”

He smiled and kissed your forehead, “I love you, too, baby. More than anything.”

The two of you lay in silence. Listening to each other's breathing. His chest rose and fell against your cheek. It was so calm. Your eyes fluttered from exhaustion, and you were on the brink of sleep until you heard Yunho’s stomach growl. Loud.

Your laugh turned into a snort as you slapped his chest, “Seriously?” 

“Sorry,” he smacked the back of your thigh in playful retaliation, “I’m hungry.” He grinned down at you. “Do you want me to make dinner?” 

Raising an eyebrow, you couldn’t help but laugh at him, “You’re gonna make dinner?”

“Hey! Have some faith in me.”

“Baby, I love you so so much, but I think we should just order food.”

He looked mildly offended, “You don’t like my cooking?”

“You’re cooking is fine, but I don’t wanna wait three hours for you to make something.”

Huffing, he sat up a little to grab his phone off the nightstand, “What are you feeling?”

You shrugged and pulled him back down onto the bed, crawling over him. Straddling his lap and laying on his chest, “You decide.”

He nodded and started playing with your hair once again, “Alright, but don’t complain if I get something you don’t like.”

“Choose carefully. I might cry if you pick something bad,” You teased.

He pinched your side and shook his head, “Don’t give me any ideas.”