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#I can't get over how tender this is!!
cherryrockpops · 4 months
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-·=»‡«=·- Cuddling up for the Holidays -·=»‡«=·-
Artwork by @drawinglinestoconstellations
Nick is Virgil's precious cargo that must be protected.
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the-rogue-mockingjay · 2 months
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caster/ranged dps solidarity
a lil kissie for @scionshtola's corisande ymir!! will post alternate shots of this later but for now, enjoy ❤️
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keepthetension · 4 months
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still thinking about grief and recovery and support on this show because oh boy did the shows airing this weekend put me in my dead parent feelings i said before i was concerned about how porjai is dealing with her own grief, and this episode we saw her easily talking about rung, and even casually yelling to rung that she misses her! maybe this is me projecting, because i can't do that, but this seems like a pretty healthy place to be, especially contrasted with mhok's relative silence, and i'm glad!
and mhok's silence doesn't come from anger or resentment (which are valid ofc, but i did wonder if imprisonment gave him time to work through this to some degree) but out of protectiveness. i fucking loved this, because it felt so realistic and lived-in. i lost a parent to intimate partner violence, and i NEVER open up about it; people sure have Opinions, and it makes me insane
but day finding out about rung offscreen wasn't on my bingo card, tbh. because we've been with mhok through everything he's found out about day
it doesn't bother me, exactly, but it feels slightly unbalanced, and i suppose what i'm thinking is: knowing what happened to someone doesn't actually tell you how they feel about it, or how it affects them, or how you can support them
mhok found out from that lady sharing personal medical info she had no business sharing about day losing his eyesight in the accident, but he put in the work to understand what it actually meant for day. and in most cases, we've seen day telling mhok about what troubles him in his own words (his crush on auggy, why he was avoiding his friends, etc)
bereavement is probably statistically more common, so i suppose it may not need to be spelled out for an audience? but i am wary, because there have been so many shows where characters are visibly — to me! — struggling with grief and everything else matryoshka-ed in it, but audience reaction simply doesn't factor this in
i'm also thinking about how often mhok tells day a story about himself with the intent of making him smile ("i bought two bracelets just because i had money to spend" "i found this rooftop when i needed to sober up" "my sister called this false rice". i'm certain there are more!). because this is what a caretaker does, or because this is what mhok does, or both?
because this always made me wonder what it would take for mhok to talk about something that wouldn't make day smile, or because he wanted to share. in the former case, it'd have to be something pretty bad!
of course, talking isn't the only way to recovery or intimacy. and mhok going from "i'm breaking up with my devoted gf because i don't want to drag her down with me" to "i'm going to ask you to be my bf" is pretty significant!
but as they navigate the journey from being caretaker and client to being boyfies, the balance has to shift around a bit to them supporting each other, consciously choosing to be there for each other
in this episode what we got was: you only want money to buy that car. and i'm not even mad about this, because this kind of comment is very in line with day's character. but wow. day, i know you're feeling big feelings, but throwing one of the few things you know about mhok's life in his face is. not it!
#last twilight the series#i know this is a “trustworthy” director. and i will happily eat my words! but#it's always bothered me when couples fall into this pattern of ONE person doing the bulk of the supporting and caring and accommodating#and i am HOPING WISHING PRAYING this show doesn't do the same you know?#also like the imbalance makes sense if they're only caretaker and client of course! i'm just SO curious how this will be addressed#thinking a lot lately about characters society puts into a certain box because social status or because they're Manly or Tough or some shit#and there isn't a space for them to be soft and goofy and playful and tender. and people assume they don't need to be cared for#ten from cooking crush and babe from pit babe and top from only friends. for example.#and “there's zero tenderness in you” mhok#and i desperately want to see these characters get to be more than they're “allowed” to be#patriarchy is a curse#oh also i suspect mhok's “healing journey” will come to a head once he buys the car or whatever ends up happening there#ALSO GOD how many people would move the fuck out of that house afterward IF THEY HAVE THE MONEY TO DO SO#and maybe it doesn't feel like this for mhok and porjai but living in the same place afterward can be intensely suffocating#but they can't just move and start over like moneyed individuals might be able to!#recovery and healing simply looks different for the rich#anyway next ep will probably foreground mhok caring for day. and there are not many eps left!! i am wary but still fairly optimistic
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sunderwight · 7 months
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what if the other thing that happened in 1941 (that we haven't seen yet) wasn't a kiss though
what if Crowley actually offered an "I love you" and Aziraphale panicked and botched the response
what if one of the reasons Aziraphale was so primed to say "I love you" back to Gabriel in 2023 is because he's been waiting for a do-over on that one and has been telling himself for years that next time someone says that to him, he'll say it back
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fragmentedblade · 8 months
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The implications that Blade and Dan Heng remember more than they admit is driving me nuts
#Fragments and scraps#I talk too much#I should probably delete this later#Not just Blade's general drive but already what Kafka said about how she was going to take off his mind#the memories of Jing Yuan‚ Jingliu‚ Dan Heng *and Yingxing* made me think he remembers a lot more than he lets on#And then Todd's quest? How he is watching the High Elder statue‚ wonders if that guy was happy‚ and tells us he is 'mourning for folly'?#And that short line uttered in that precise location after this animated short seems even more meaningful#And then Dan Heng? The way he is there? The way he knows where to he at all?#And he pours the drink and it's almost a shared drink beyond time. Once again. Like they did before#Like the wish mentioned in that one leaked Imbibitor Lunae character story. He did get it. In a way. He did get it#The way Dan Heng gazes with eyes full of tenderness and sorrow also seems to imply that he remembers somewhat#Perhaps not all. Perhaps there's not even the feeling#But it feels a bit like mourning lost friends. A bit like the gaze Jing Yuan can't help but give him at times#Perhaps not a lingering feeling Dan Heng has‚ but at least the echo of a love that once was#It also felt like he was seeing them for a moment#It felt like he remembered them#'I am not him'‚ he claims‚ over and over. And he is not wrong. But it seems like the fondness Dan Feng had for his friends#transcended the barriers of death and accompanied him to his next life somewhat#And after centuries of nothingness still Dan Heng can't help but give a tender sorrowful smile to the friends that were#It's heartbreaking that something in the four of them is still mourning‚ each in their way and as they can#What is Blade's and Jingliu's drive for revenge if not that? What is Blade's 'mourning for folly' if not that?#What is Kafka unable to control Blade's mara in the Luofu if not that? What are Jing Yuan's bouts of tiredness‚ the pressure on his chest‚#the way he welcomed his old friends with a joke? What is it if not that the fact that‚ yes‚ after using them‚ but that he let them go?#What is the weight of Dan Heng's smile and his gesture pouring the drink if not that?#No wonder they can't move on if they loved each other so much it transcended duties‚ time‚ life‚ death and madness#Edit: as per Jingliu's quest this was obviously confirmed‚ especially and most intensely in Blade's case (19/10/2023)
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maegalkarven · 2 years
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This book hurts but like in a good way and I'm pretty sure, what, despite everything, that week is the closest to the happiness Benji was ever felt.
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ehlnofay · 1 month
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the good thing about having a job that is familiar and good for you at present is most of the things. the bad thing about this is that no you don't
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suguann · 3 months
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Possessive!Gojo who makes you wear his jersey when you go to parties at his fraternity after games, openly admiring the way you dwarf inside his clothes. He leans forward on the edge of the bed to get a better look, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes raking over every inch of you from head to toe. 
"Toru, it's too big," you pout, checking out your reflection in the floor-length mirror on his closet door. “I look silly.”
The tent growing in his sweats says otherwise—all the blood in his body rushing from one head to the other just from seeing two things that are his coexisting—and he gives you another once-over, thinking of several ways to describe you, silly not being one of them.
"You’re so pretty, baby.” He swears he’s a little drunk from the sight of you, but he means it.
Possessive!Gojo who pushes you up against the door inside the locker room before a game—slightly jealous from the guys looking at you as they filed out into the hall, and equally turned on because he knows they can’t have you—telling you he can't play with a hard-on before he's pressing into you from behind.
He can feel your tummy quivering under his hand where he holds you close, feels how his cock is carving its way inside of you, and you both moan when he presses down lightly. It makes him dizzy how tight and small you are; pulsing, wet, and swollen-soft velvet that gives every time he buries himself into you.
"You gonna hold all of my cum in this cute cunt until after the game, y-yeah?" he sucks the question into your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll lick it out of you afterward. Just keep it warm for me, ’kay?”
You answer him with a high-pitched whine as you clench down hard around him, cumming with a muffled scream against his palm and nearly pushing him out of your warm, fluttering heat.
Possessive!Gojo makes sure to stuff his cum back into your drooling cunt with two thick fingers, curling them into your front wall to pull another soft orgasm out of you—just a little more, ah, there you go, always so good for me—before he helps you fix your panties to trap it there.
His arms wrap around you before he presses a tender kiss to your temple. “Don’t forget to cheer for me.”
Possessive!Gojo whose smirk from watching you squirm in the stands, melts into a glare when a guy takes the empty seat beside you, sitting almost too close for his liking.
“Stop staring at your girlfriend and hit the fucking puck already,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning against his stick.
Possessive!Gojo who makes sure to fuck you in the backseat of his car afterward with the windows cracked in hopes that the guy from the stands would walk by to you moaning Gojo’s name, and he eats you out just like he promised—bending you over the center console, smiling to himself at how shy and squirmy you get—only to fill you up again.
Possessive!Gojo who pouts whenever Nanami manages to steal your attention with something sciency and nerdy (something entirely up your alley) whenever you come over on weeknights. 
“That’s so neat, Nanami,” you smile, hearts practically in your eyes as you listen to him talk about his latest research. “Maybe I can stop by the lab and check it out sometime.”
Possessive!Gojo who doesn’t miss the way Nanami’s ears turn a shade of red from your praise—color high in his cheeks—how he gives a sheepish smile whenever you talk to him.
“Toru,” you say, finally bringing your soft, pretty gaze on him again. “Are you even studying?”
Yeah, he is, but something else entirely, he thinks as he watches how your shorts hug your ass while you walk around the house’s common room—and he’s not the only one staring.
Possessive!Gojo who slaps your thigh, making you jolt in his lap. "Did I tell you to stop, huh, baby?"
You shake your head, biting your lip and avoiding the pair of eyes watching both of you (intently) from across the room—especially you—a quiet observer as you slowly sink onto your boyfriend’s cock while Nanami thrusts his own into his fist. 
"Ah, fuck—b-but–"
Your words break off into a choked moan when Gojo thrusts his hips up underneath you, pressed as deep inside as he can get, and when he looks down, he swears he can see the imprint of himself pressing against your stomach. 
"Tell me what I said,” he says through gritted teeth as he starts bouncing you, the couch continuing its steady squeaking under your knees.
Possessive!Gojo who can tell that it's hard for you to concentrate with the way his cock moves inside you, and you’re unable to answer with anything other than babbling nonsense. He decides to take mercy on you and stops to grind you in his lap instead.
He kisses your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on. "I said, don't stop until you cum, and you’re going to let Nanami see how fucking pretty you look when you do."
The next sound out of your mouth is a squeal when he holds your inner thighs to keep you open as he thrusts up into you again and again—letting Nanami see what can never be his.
“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “So good for me. Go on, show him how my good girl takes cock.”
Possessive!Gojo who locks eyes with Nanami just as he’s about to cum, burying his groans of pleasure into your neck as white-hot sparks shudder up his spine and heat pools in his gut.
Mine, he tries to say, but Gojo thinks his frat brother gets it when Gojo’s the one cumming inside you and Nanami’s spilling all over his fist.
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Masterlist
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hoffmanstits-enjoyer · 8 months
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What is it about making good boys that have suffered so much go through some kind of terminal illness and pushing the biggest asshole into the role of their confidant and unofficial caretaker, learning in the process to be a much kinder person for that one good boy in specific; because suddenly they're hurting for the unfairness of losing the brightest soul they've ever come across when life around them is filled with hypocritical, false goodness that has always been a fact of life but now it's insulting, paling in comparison to the Real Thing™ and—
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yuujispinkhair · 22 days
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Boyfie Sukuna picking you up from your late shift
A while ago, a sweet anon sent me an ask about protective boyfie Sukuna picking up reader from a late shift, and I loved it so much because I would have really needed him too when I was still doing late shifts. So here is a little drabble about Kuna picking us up from work. I hope you enjoy it 💗
Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff. Word Count 900. Mentions of smoking. Minors don't interact. Dividers @/benkeibear
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"Ok, let's do this," you mutter to yourself as you push open the heavy back door, trying to hype yourself up and steeling yourself for the darkness that will await you outside of your workplace at this time.
You hate your late shifts when you're the only one left in the building and have to use the exit in the back. Your pulse already speeds up at the thought of having to walk down the dimly lit back alley to reach the main street and the subway station.
But you have no other choice, and so you step out the door and into the dark alley. And immediately jump when a low voice drawls,
"Hey, princess."
You dart around with a hand clutched to your chest and your eyes wide, even as your brain begins to register that you know this voice. And, of course, your gaze lands on a very familiar tall, muscular figure with a beautiful, tattooed face and slicked-back pink hair.
Sukuna.
He is leaning casually against the brick wall, one hand shoved into the pocket of his black jeans, the other bringing a half-smoked cigarette to his lips. He smirks around the cigarette, maroon eyes looking amusedly at you.
"Did I scare you?"
You glare at him, even as you feel a huge relief wash over you. Relief and that all-too-familiar fluttery feeling in your stomach that you always get when you see your boyfriend.
"Kuna! What the... yes, you scared me! What are you doing here?"
Sukuna exhales slowly, watching you through the cigarette smoke with those beautiful cat-like eyes as he shrugs and smirks that devilishly attractive smirk,
"Making sure my girl gets home safely, of course."
You can't stop the big, happy smile from spreading over your face. This side of your boyfriend always makes you so weak for him. This sweet side of Sukuna that contradicts everything the people who told you he wouldn't be good for you said.
Yes, your boyfriend has a bad boy reputation. But yet, here he is, picking you up after your late shift without you having to ask for it. So protective and caring when it comes to you.
"I'm glad you are here, baby."
You smile and get on your tiptoes to kiss Sukuna's tattooed cheek, feeling the anxiety you felt earlier leave you completely. When Sukuna is with you, you know you are safe.
Sukuna grins as he flicks his cigarette away and wraps one strong arm around you to pull you against his tall body. His lips brush against your forehead in a quick but tender kiss.
"Let's go home, princess. Dinner is waiting for you."
"You already cooked too? Are you practicing to become a househusband, Kuna?"
You grin up at Sukuna playfully, and he laughs, but he sounds very pleased when he replies in that sexy, velvety voice,
"For you? Always."
He winks at you and offers you one of his muscular, tattooed arms as if he is a knight or an actor in a 1950s rom-com. And you take Sukuna's arm and hold on to him as you walk down the dimly lit alley together.
Usually, you are scared to walk down this narrow, dark street. But not tonight. Not when you are holding onto Sukuna's arm, your hand wrapped tightly around his bulging tattooed biceps, his tall, strong body so reassuringly brushing against your side.
The dark alley and the nightly city have lost their scariness now that Sukuna is with you and tells you about the dinner he cooked for you and how he beat his brother at a video game they were playing earlier.
You know you are safe when Sukuna is with you. Even the two sinister-looking guys loitering around at the end of the alley quickly leave after casting one look at Sukuna's tattooed face and his tall, muscular body.
You smile and snuggle against Sukuna's warm body, thinking that there are definitely certain benefits to dating a bad boy.
You reach Sukuna's car shortly after, and he holds open the passenger door for you while smirking that sexy, boyish smirk, always acting like an old-fashioned gentleman when it comes to you.
You watch him while he drives, one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on your thigh, interlacing his long tattooed fingers with your smaller ones.
And you can't stop smiling from ear to ear. Sukuna cooked dinner for you. He came here to pick you up. And you know that he's turning up the heating in his car just for you. He runs on the hot side and doesn't need it. But he's doing it for you, just like he is doing so many little and big things for you all the time. Anything for you, without you ever having to ask for it. Because he loves you.
It makes your heart feel so full.
You lean across the center console at the first red light, pressing another sweet kiss to Sukuna's cheek. But he turns his face so your lips end up on his. You feel his grin against your lips as his large hand captures your chin, cupping it firmly, holding you in place so he can deepen the kiss, licking into your mouth with a few playful flicks of his pierced tongue before he pulls away again.
You smile, your fingers tightening around Sukuna's hand, which is back in your lap,
"Thank you for picking me up, baby."
You see the corners of Sukuna's lips lift in a matching smile even while his gaze is fixed on the street before him, and his voice sounds playful but warm at the same time,
"You're welcome, princess. From now on, I'll pick you up every time you have a late shift. There's no way you're walking through dark alleys without me."
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Protective boyfie Sukuna makes me SWOON aaaahhhh. Honestly, this gave me such a feeling of safety. In my old job, I had to do late shifts, too, and I was so scared walking down to the train station and waiting for my train because all those sinister-looking men were already starting to crawl out of their holes, and I felt very unsafe there. Protective boyfie Sukuna would have made me feel SO safe.
I hope this could give you comfort, too 💗💗 Thank you so much for reading!! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.
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shotmrmiller · 3 months
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I like to think that Simon has no game. He's large, he's unapproachable, his stare alone scares away the women. Which was totally fine, until one day, he saw you as Johnny's screensaver on his phone. He was entranced, mesmerized. He's seen more than enough beautiful women on the orange youtube (his hand being his only source of relief for years) but there was something different about you. Maybe it was the tender smile you had on your face, or maybe it was how you glowed with happiness.
Or your eyes. Your eyes twinkled with affection, you looked at the camera with love. Love. That's it.
He can't remember the last time someone aimed a fond look his way. And whenever he stares at your photo, it looks like you're lovingly gazing back at him— and it gets him fucking hard.
Johnny once left his phone behind, for whatever reason, and Simon waited a solid minute, (60) seconds, before he picked it up, and took out his own phone to take a picture of you.
Simon wanked himself raw that night, his thick cum splattering over his screen, over your face. His refractory period that night was nonexistent.
And when Johnny one day was on the phone with you? When Johnny said, "Simon's here too, hen. Say hello." The way your melodic voice said his name? His cock was achingly hard within seconds, and he shifted around uncomfortably, willing for it to disappear.
It didn't. Simon walked with a wide gait, legs stiff, straight to the nearest bathroom and took himself in his hand. He gripped his long, thick length tight, and when he closed his eyes, he squeezed even harder, almost painfully. His tip was an angry red, from how tight he held himself, and that's how snug he imagined your undoubtedly pretty pussy would be around him.
He had to clench his jaw— grit his teeth hard, to keep the pathetic whimpers from escaping. Simon leaked pre-cum like a juvenile, stringy like egg whites, all over his knuckles and he hadn't even started pumping yet.
When someone knocked on the door, the snarl he let out was feral, a "Fuck off" so nasty, no one disturbed him again until he came with his head tilted back, and the vision of you riding him behind his closed eyes.
And then in the comfort of his own quarters, he pulled up your picture again— a blurry, too zoomed-in photo of a photo, and rut into one of his pillows, again imagining it was you. He thought of you on your back, legs open invitingly and waiting for him to fill you. He imagined the delicious moans you'd breathe out in his ear, your nails digging into the expanse of his broad, scarred back. He imagined your walls fluttering around him, the tell-tale sign of your upcoming climax, and you'd squeeze him so bloody tight when you finally did come, he'd move to pull out because there's no way he's not finishing with you. But you, you'd wrap your legs around his waist, and cross your ankles— effectively keeping him inside of you.
He'd cum on the spot, because you were effectively giving him your permission to finish inside. You'd rhythmically clench your walls to milk him dry, to take all of his seed.
And when his warped, fucked mind imagined you whispering an 'I love you' on his lips, he actually came, and he whimpered.
Simon's hips stuttered as his cock twitched and spasmed, spurting thick globs of cum all over his pillow, his bed. His breath came in shaky pants, his heart slamming against his ribcage.
After he stopped shaking, and was able to move his limbs, he cleaned his mess up shamefully, the post-nut clarity hitting hard, and as he switched bedsheets, he saw his phone light up with a notification.
Bonnie just sent this picture. Doesn't she look cute?
It was you holding a cup of iced coffee, and what stood out to him the most was your brightly colored nails.
He touched himself to the thought of those manicured hands wrapped around his cock, as you took him in your mouth 10 minutes later.
this was my inspo for this simon
@pieckyghost i really only have porn on my mind :( pussy on my mind, tighter than a headband.
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sunaluv · 5 months
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'IS SHE TAKEN?'
in which someone asks your man if you're single
feat: ran, gojo
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RAN
the club setting was filled with more excitement tonight. don't get it twisted, any club or event hosted by the haitanis was guaranteed to be the event of the day, good vibes, hot people, and lots of money to be made. but when one of the brothers was actually present at the club? something about their aura seemed to bring out the vibes in people.
ran's hooded gaze watched adoringly at you across the club, the setting bringing nostalgia to the first time you met. ever the social butterfly you were, accepting another phone number from one of the girlfriends you made tonight. the other members of the roundtable looked at one another, wondering if the haitani brother was even present.
"no wonder you're so distracted, boss," the man next to him nudged him with his elbow, to which ran side-eyed him. "she's a looker, d'ya think she's single?"
your boyfriend appeared neutral as he let the guy ramble on about how hot you were, and what he would do to you given the chance. he missed the harsh roll of ran's eyes. if he didn't know you were spoken for, he would make sure this guy knew by the end of the night.
as if on queue, you waved bye to your new friends and started to make your way to the table. eyes followed your figure as you passed, but that was to be expected when the prettiest girl at the club walked past.
"hey, sweetheart," his soft lips pressed against the crown of your head. "you alright?"
"i'm good! a little tired though," you let out a deep sigh, melting into his arms. "these heels have been killing me..."
wordlessly, his large hands had your ankles in his lap, undoing the buckles on your heels and rubbing tender circles into the irritated skin.
he smirked at the relieved sigh that left your lips. "my buddy here has something to ask you, sweets."
the man next to you seemed to go silent since your arrival at the table, the consequences of his actions just hitting. a deep breath followed by a gulp as he wiped his damp hands against his slacks. he almost flinched when your hooded, yet dominating gaze met his own eyes, but after remembering who and where he was, he gained his composure almost as quickly as it left.
"nah 'ts nothin'," he waved his hand. "just a passing thought, is all..."
others both around the roundtable and those dancing near it tried not to make it obvious that they were watching the exchange going down. they found themselves pitying a character who would not deserve it, under different circumstances. but, as discussed, the haitani aura seems to throw things off of balance.
if he didn't want to talk, ran would do it for him. "he wants to know if your single, claims he could give you a lay better than your man could,"
your eyes left the man, instead looking over your boyfriends face in silent communication.
'you and i both know he can't'
'...i know, my love, just humor me every once in a while?'
'you're such a character sometimes, haitani'
'you love it though'
eyes darted between you, awaiting your response, thus his sentence in anticipation. he didn't know what telepathic language you were communicating in, but he was glad to not hear his fate get discussed right in front of him.
"i'm very flattered, but i have a boyfriend, sorry." your response was dry towards him, but the gaze you held with ran was anything but.
catching wind of what was about to happen, you excused yourself from the table, leaving a kiss on the corner of rans mouth, whispering a 'be good' in his ear before leaving.
whatever happened after your departure was not your business, after all.
GOJO
"hey man," a hand belonging to an unfamiliar man clasped on satorus shoulder. "do you know if the girl you came here with has a boyfriend?"
you had dragged your boyfriend to one of your friend's parties, much to his dismay. he's sworn off drinking after geto's blackmail folder started getting a bit thick, meaning there was nothing fun to do other than socialise, but he didn't want to after people flocked to him for the wrong reasons.
so now he was maybe the only sober one in this lively scene, which leads to the current events.
he spoke your name for clarity. "uhh, I'm not sure. you can go ask her if you want. ill even put in a good word for you."
has this man been a fraction more sober, he would've questioned why the blindfolded man's smile was so wide, or why he was so willing to help, but alas, this was a party and alcohol was supplied.
"thanks, dude! you're such a lifesaver."
satoru almost felt bad for the guy. he was practically buzzing whilst traversing through the sweaty bodies in search of you. he felt bad until he remembered how bored he was before this happened, he has to put himself first sometimes.
after a couple stumbles, reroutes and a rest break, they had finally found you in your angelic beauty, laughing with a group of girls he didn't know.
he thought it was quite cute how the guy seemed to become more shy at the sight of you, and satoru couldn't blame him. had he been someone more normal, he would act the same in your presence.
one of the girls caught sight of the pair by the entry and gestured you towards them. your face softened slightly at the sight of your six-foot-something boyfriend and his... friend?
"hey toru," you smiled, before looking at the other man. "who’s this?"
satoru said nothing, slapping the guy a little too harshly on the back before stepping back. the floor was his.
"hey," he breathed out, before introducing himself. "i saw you come in with your friend earlier, and just wanted to know if you were seeing anyone?"
your heart rate picked up, but not for the reason the guy was hoping. why was gojo like this? did he enjoy seeing you suffer?
he obviously did as when you looked over your shoulder to the said man, he gave you a big, encouraging grin with both thumbs up. the audacity.
he had thrown you to the wolves and left you to fend for yourself.
"uhm..." you breathed, trying not to shatter the poor guy's heart. "i have a boyfriend, unfortunately. sorry."
"what do you mean, unfortunately!" satoru mocked you from behind the guy. "I'm a total catch, right?" he turned to the guy. "right??"
though delayed, the guy had finally come to the realisation he had been punked by the man who egged him on the whole time. his face burst into a deep shade of red, apologising profusely before rushing back into the crowd.
"you're such an ass, gojo."
"the last name huh?" he scratched the back of his neck. "I'm in for it arent i?"
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wyvernest · 7 months
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hands on you
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pairing: miguel o'hara xf!reader
warnings: perv!miguel, miguel being extra handsy, smut, groping (consensual), established relationship, teasing, pda, public teasing, alcoholic beverages?
summary: miguel can't take his hands off of you in the club
Miguel knew you liked him being overly affectionate in public, just to show everyone how deeply in love with him you are. So deeply, that you couldn't gather one single fuck to give about what others thought.
Sure, there were lines neither of you would ever cross. But there was something so delicious about taking risks that had you more intoxicated than 5 mojitos.
This is why you now find yourself rummaging through your closet, looking for something downright obscene. Something so inviting that would make it hard for Miguel to keep his hands to himself for the whole night.
The two of you had arranged to go clubbing for the first time in what felt like a century. Since both of you preferred 1 on 1 alone time, it was a rarity that one would voice the desire to break out of the usual, intimate, comforting routine.
But this time, you want something filthy. Not soft or private. Something that would bring him to the very brink of despair for being so close, yet so far from it.
"¿Estas lista?" (Are you ready?) You hear the bathroom door open as Miguel steps out into the doorway, a towel around his hips and another in his hands as he aggressively attempts to partially dry his dripping wet hair.
You almost start drooling looking at him in the closet door mirror. This is gonna be fun.
"I'm still thinking." You replied, absentmindedly. Oh how you wish you could just ditch the plans, forget about going out and spend the rest of the evening on his dick. To just give him a familiar shove and watch him lay down on the soft bed, hands roaming your body as you climbed on top of him-
No. You have to stick with the plan. Just for once.
As he blow-dries his hair, you snatch the top and skirt you picked and run downstairs, not wanting him to see you before you get to your destination.
But how you wish you could stay in the bedroom and watch his back muscles flex as he pulls that black shirt over his head, how he looks in the mirror as he fixes his hair. His mere presence made you wet.
You snap out of your reverie, swiftly changing and covering yourself with a nice beige coat. Just as you were done with the last touches in the hallway mirror, Miguel stepped down the stairs.
The black shirt slightly stretches over his muscles, giving you a clear view of his pecs and the outlines of his hard abs. He's sporting beige pants, and you wonder just for a second how obvious a boner would be underneath the thin, creamy material.
The drive to the club is flooded with knowing looks and flirty comments, which again make it hard for you not to abandon ship and fuck him in the driver's seat, pulled over on a nice, dark alley.
"I know what you're doing."
"What?" You inquire, faking innocent shock.
He gestures towards your coat, his eyes darting from yours to the clothing item and back to the road.
"I just want to surprise you." You defend yourself, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, brushing a few hair strands behind his ear. You lean into him, placing a tender kiss on his cheek.
You arrive at the club, discarding the coat to leave it in the car. He almost forgets to lock the doors the moment he sees you. Plushy breasts pushed together and nearly spilling out of a skin tight top, ass peeking out from underneath a skirt too short.
"Carajo." (Fuck.) He rasps, before sprinting over to you, wanting to shield you from wandering eyes. Any doubts that it might've been too much are washed away the second you're hit with the realisation that Miguel's hands are going to be on you for the whole night. Either protectively or for other reasons, you couldn't bring yourself to care that much.
As you walk in, you remain glued to him. body to body. Even as you dance, you move against him, soft tits squished on his chest, hands wandering over his shoulders and his neck.
His own hands are anchored on your waist, his fingers digging into your delicate skin.
Glazed over eyes, pretty mouth agape, lips painted in gloss; they're too much for him. He leans into your touch, kissing you messily. It's all tongue and hot puffs of heaved breaths, desperate and painfully needy.
Seizing the opportunity, you inhaled softly and slowly, feeling the scent of him, cologne mixed with his distinctive musk that has your brain melting into nothing but the thought of irrevocably being his.
Suddenly, a straying hand travels down your body, from the dip of your waist and over your hip, settling on the tender flesh of your ass, his fingertips skin to skin on you, thanks to the shortness of the flimsy skirt.
He pulls you against him, trapping you with the other hand splayed out on your back. You feel your heart rate pick up speed.
His one-day stubble scratches your silky cheeks, almost an invasion. Almost disrespectful to the extensive skin care routine you have and religiously stick to, but that's what you like most about it. No matter how much time you spend on yourself, he always ruins you. Your makeup, your clothes, covering your freshly-carefully-lotioned body in hickies and marks. Simply because you're his.
The palm on your ass squeezes and kneads over the feverish skin, the skirt hiking up in the process as he exposes your thin, lace thongs.
You moan in faux protest, looking up at him and breaking away from the suffocating kiss.
"¿Que pasó, muñeca?" (What happened, doll?). He continues to squeeze, the feeling of his big, rough hand rubbing the plumpness of your ass starts to pool raw need between your legs.
"You don't like me touching you like this?" He speaks into your ear, eyes half lidded and predatory. "Isn't that what you dressed up like this for, hm?"
The bastard.
You take one fraction of a second to look around, taking note that nobody was watching, apart from a few guys who either enjoy the show or are patiently waiting for Miguel to leave you alone for just a minute.
Not gonna happen.
"Dime." (Tell me.) He steals your attention, his embrace almost lifting you off the ground just to hold you whole against him.
You mouth 'Yes', knowing you can't trust your shaky voice to speak louder for him to hear over the music.
The dancing area is getting increasingly crowded as the night seeps deeper into the city, so you two move towards the bar. He sits on one of the chairs, patting his leg for you. You place yourself on his thigh as he manspreads to give you more space, curling a strong arm around your waist.
You feel the fabric of his beige pants come into contact with your panties, your skirt too short to cover your ass, let alone allow you to sit without having it slide up. You close your legs tightly, seeking a bit more privacy from the public eye.
Trying not to slip from your seat, you attempt to brace yourself on your palms; one hand on his knee, pushing your back into him, and one on-
Fuck.
Your other palm accidentally lands on his crotch, your fingers grazing his half hard cock. Before you can take your hand away and hide your flushed face, he grabs your wrist and keeps it there.
The bartender is making cocktails at the opposite end of the counter, so no one can see what's actually going on. He starts guiding your hand to rub him up and down, a content sigh leaving him. You could swear your own face is very telling by now.
You cup him through the material, feeling the familiar girth of his cock fatten at your attention. He's getting warmer, and so are you.
Before he can start drifting into pleasure, the bartender runs to him, waiting for the order. Miguel asks for a beer, frustrated at the loss of contact, your hands now on the marble counter.
More people gather around the bar, and as his request gets temporarily forgotten amidst the others, he relishes in the re-obtained semi privacy.
"¿Estás bien, muñequita?" He asks, a hint of concern plastered on his face at the sight of your flushed face.
"Don't worry. I'll tell you if I'm uncomfortable." You reassure, feeling bolder.
He smirks, looking around, checking. He feels like a horny teen-ager who has no other choice but to try to explore and test the waters in public. But in reality, he knew exactly what he was doing.
He turns to you, placing a kiss dangerously close to the top of your right breast, teasing. Before you can look down through your hazy vision, he glides a warm palm between your legs, past your skirt, two fingers fitting in the valley of your soft pussy.
You restrain yourself from gasping, instead seeking to hide your face in the crook of his neck. He moves his hand over the mound, flicking your clit through your panties. He can undoubtedly feel how wet you are as he so obscenely cups your cunt. You feel the heat of his palm on you, so comforting in such a filthy way; like that's where it belongs.
Looking down, you're met with the sight of his veined burly arm, muscles flexing as he plays with you, his wrist barely visible underneath your skirt. You clench around nothing, and his motions quicken with expert ease, a clear sign he felt you.
You're left infuriatingly needy for more when he retracts his hand as if nothing happened, the bartender bringing him his beer. You give him a pissed look, and he smiles as he brings the bottle to his mouth.
Smiling, like, what's wrong?
You move to threateningly leave from your seat on his lap, but he follows as expected. He can't lose sight of you.
Walking just a bit further into the crowd, you take his hand behind you. Swaying your hips and undulating your body to the music, you feel the beat through your veins, in your chest, in your head. He comes up behind you, his rhythm in sync with your movements.
Brushing your hair out of the way from behind, he slowly bends down to lick and kiss at the sensitive skin on the side of your neck, raising goosebumps over your skin. You don't know how much longer you'll stay here, seeing how clingy and needy Miguel has gotten.
You feel your pulse throbbing in your neck and through your lust-hazed mind at the stimulation.
"Feel how fast my heart's beating." You take his hand, placing it where your heart would be. He brings the beer bottle to his mouth, drinking nonchalantly as his palm instantly dips into your cleavage, cupping your left breast. You stiffen, once again surprised.
"Yeah." He confirms, as if he didn't just start groping you to feel your heartbeat. "Pretty fast."
He is well aware of how worked up you get simply because of this attitude. He leaves the bottle on a nearby glass table, now both his hands on your boobs, nearly taking them out of your top to play with them. He looks wrecked, absolutely drunk on need.
One of his arms soon curls around your waist and back, pulling you close into him, the other hand still fondling your chest. You arch your back, pushing yourself impossibly closer into his touch, seeking the warmth of his palm.
Wanting to drive him completely mad, you turn around, your back to him, and start grinding your plushy ass over his groin. He grips your hips, guiding you, not hesitating to let his hands wonder back to your tits, squeezing them under the elastic material of your shirt while you're rubbing yourself on his painful erection.
You can now see people staring, especially at the way he touches you. Arching backwards, you curl your arms around his neck, your chest pushed forward and so much more accessible. His palms are now hot on your soft breasts, craving more. Fondling with fervent need.
The music and the people are drowned out, muffled into the very back of your headspace. He leans down, his mouth to your ear.
"Let's get out of here."
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divider by @cafekitsune
a/n: tried to make it as non problematic and as filthy as possible at the same time goddamn
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stars-and-clouds · 7 months
Text
Astarion Romance Headcanons 🥀
SFW:
Side glances when you're besides him
Full on staring when you're not
Immediately looking away when you catch him
"You know the way he looks at you, don't you, soldier?"
His pinky itching towards yours when you're walking, wanting to hold your hand but unsure because, is it too much? Will you reject him?
His hands scrunching up your shirt tightly whenever you hug. He's always the last to let go.
You hold on longer and longer each time because he doesn't want to let go.
His kisses are tender and needy.
He likes the warmth of your hands.
Thinking of what tones will suit your perfume the best. He'll gift it to you after all this is over.
He'll sew the holes or tears in your clothes over the night and pretend he doesn't know what happened next morning.
When you move to kiss his cheek he will grimace in annoyance but lean in as you do it.
"Be careful around Astarion, (Tav). He's not serious about you.", the others will warn you. And Astarion will worry you'll heed their words more than his so he'll do so much to prove his love to you, not knowing that you already trust him (even if that is an objectively stupid thing to do lmao).
He started sleeping next to you from the moment you had sex but ever since you've entered the shadowlands, he ends up cuddling in the middle of the night. He misses the sun.
He likes kissing the palm of your hand or its back.
Likes to pack your bag before you leave camp.
"No one's ever going to love me like that again."
Ever since you told him that there's more to him than just beauty and sex, that he's hilarious, for instance, he finds ways to make you laugh. He loves it. He's started being a lot more sarcastic and makes more jokes just to hear your laughter. He'll never admit it, of course. Other than maybe when it's only you two.
Doesn't believe he will be able to love again if you let go of him.
"Don't be so nice to me." he says with round, needy and pleading eyes.
Thinking of ways he can show others you're together so others know you're not available.
Hiding his jealousy, terribly.
He will rip the throat out of anyone with malicious intent towards you.
"I will wait the whole of my life for you, Astarion." He doesn't believe it at first, but the longer you go on without sex the safer he feels and the more he wants you.
NSFW:
He sometimes cries silently at night, wishing he could make love to you without it feeling so tainted. He wants it so badly, but his past experience prohibits it. The pain of wanting something and being unable to have it only because of himself is too much. He blames himself too sometimes. Wishing he could give you more.
"I don't mind waiting.", you'd say.
"I do. I can't have you, no matter how much I want you.", he'd say.
When you cuddle him sensing he's upset, he will bury his face in your neck to hide his tears. The smell of you is comforting.
Needing you everytime you're tender with him.
Getting aroused when you hug during a kiss.
Wanting to kiss your skin all over, to make you cry from pleasure as you bury your face in his neck.
Wanting you to hold on to him for dear life as you climax.
When he's finally comfortable enough and takes charge of his own sexuality, he'll be so needy.
Realising that the two nights he had sex with you were nothing compared to how good making love to you feels.
When you give up all control to him, letting him do to you as he wants, the pleasure is almost too much bear. The power he feels is palpable and knowing it is you who trusts him so much will drive him near mad.
He will lose control many times so you have a safe word.
You both think of the stupidest word possible as a safe word. Something that makes you both laugh when it's used.
He likes over stimulating you, making you beg and he'll kiss you to calm you.
"It's okay, you can do it, darling.", he'll say stroking you even further and kissing your tears.
"Does that feel good, my love?"
The more you beg the more he loves it.
He likes playing with your hands, holding them in his, touching your fingers, comparing them to his while you rest on his chest, still warm from him being inside of you.
Resting his head against your chest to hear your heartbeat.
Staring at your face and body intently. Taking in every little reaction you make and replaying them over in his head throughout the day.
Staring at you longingly when you're both with the squad, failing terribly at focusing in battle or conversation.
Getting aroused when you're covered in blood.
Seeing you fighting, in general, turns him on. The smell of your sweat, your rapid heart beat, the way your body moves, all of it now only reminds him of making love to you.
Telling you to say his name whenever he's feeling good and you'll chant it as you cum. He loves how it sounds from your lips.
Resting his forehead against yours as he's close to cumming.
"Look at me.", he'll command you.
He likes when your hands rake his hair, pull his hair, tug it whatever. That slight bit of pain arouses him. Better yet, if you bury your nails into his skin.
He likes to look at you falling asleep. It's such a gentle thing. How can someone so strong otherwise be so soft around him? Why him? Why did someone like you choose someone like him? He can't believe he has you.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/50833876/chapters/128419966 I am updating these hcs on my ao3, if anyone is interested!
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amaranthineghost · 1 month
Text
HE’S SO PRETTY WHEN HE GOES DOWN ON ME ( charles leclerc. )
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charles leclerc x reader
charles goes down on her and she can't help but admire his pretty eyes staring back at her.
warnings: smut, mostly google translate french (highschool does NOT teach us how to talk dirty okay, bare with me)
author note: as much as I would've wanted to write this for lando, it HAS to be charles, and I feel like this is so different from my usual thought and emotion heavy writing! incoming charles obsession??? like if people requested imagines for him, I'D WRITE IT...
HIS GREEN EYES MIMICKED THE SHIMMER OF PALE EMERALD. sunlight peeked through the curtains, though in a few hours time, it would fall from its peak in the sky and the room would eventually begin to darken.
his biceps filled out the sleeves of his freshly-washed blue shirt, straight from the load of laundry she had done hours ago. veins like lightning under his tanned flesh to suggest his touch was rough, yet his callused hands were so gentle against her skin.
goosebumps crept across her body with every graze of his body on hers, every small breath against her ear as he mumbled something dirty to her in french. though she didn't know exactly what, she could pick up on the cognates between languages.
he tasted faintly of chapstick, her chapstick, that transferred from her lips to his as he couldn't keep off of her. with lips as swollen and pink as hers, he graced nearly every part of her body with his kiss. she was his oxygen and he was deprived.
but it was hard for him to ever be deprived, considering how even when they weren't in such a position, he was glued to her, hands grasping or resting at her sides and his breath down her neck.
when he'd reluctantly part from her sweet-tasting lips, his veined hand would snake down from the long strands of her hair in his palm, coming to rest on her jaw. prominent veins in his arms would indicate force was used to push her head up to expose the smooth skin of her neck and collarbone, yet his touch was tender.
still, he felt her gulp under his palm.
light trails of saliva from his kisses down her jaw to her collarbone and neck, leaving red marks of irritated skin that would later bruise.
he knew she wouldn't be able to cover it up. he nipped at her skin with the purpose of showing it off, and she could get him to stop if she really wanted. but she didn't want that.
the hand on her neck reminding her of the easy power he had over her, and how she loved the gentle dominance he displayed.
because it hadn't taken much convincing earlier to get her into their bedroom. despite it being midday, he wanted to take care of her, in more ways than one.
she didn't object, she wouldn't when he looked at her with those damn eyes. his strength and her weakness.
now laid on her back with his body looming over her, his knee between her legs to put pressure just enough, but still not satisfying the desperate need to have him. and yet they had both managed to stay clothed all up untill this moment.
kissing up the staircase, his hands grasped at her waist, hoisting her into his arms, and gotten them to where they were now.
the tension had been building with every step he took, his pretty eyes watching her squirm, though he was the one to be so eager to please her. he couldn't give a shit about himself.
disheveled hair and tired, green eyes while his greedy hands roamed down her clothes, grasping at the skin of her thighs. still, he took his time as he usually did with his hands over her body, memorizing every dip in her skin.
fingers teasing under the edge of her white laced tank, bumps rising on her stomach as the material rode up her torso. he watched her nipples harden through her top, feeling his sweatpants getting tighter as he watched her subtle reactions. subtle reactions that gave him more than a little confidence in his attempts to please her.
because if he didn't then what was his purpose of living if not to please her?
his eyes remained on her the entire time, even if hers didn't meet his. she felt the burning sensation of his gaze over her heated skin. desperation for him between her thighs became increasingly unbearable, she wanted him. she needed him.
but he always took his time. it was agonizing, but she always came hard because of it.
from teasing her barely exposed skin to massaging into her ribs, he watched her expression every step of the way. it was slow, as per usual, agonizing.
his hands finally found her breasts, gently squeezing the flesh in his palms while he circled her sensitive nipples with his thumbs, exerting small noises from her.
removing one hand momentarily, he pulled down the lace of her tank, leaving messy kisses down from her collarbone to her other breast. but he didn't give her that little satisfaction, not yet.
“shhhh, patience, mon amour,” he spoke with a rasp in his voice, muffled slightly as she felt the vibrations of his voice against the flesh of her breast.
fixing her top with his other hand still teasing her chest, his hand caressed her waist under her small shorts.
trailing down the joint of her hip, his fingers traveled slowly down to and along her inner thigh before dipping under the fabric of her shorts. he played with her panties, pulling the hem away from her slick cunt. she whined at the contact of air to her core.
he bit his lip at the sight of her, fuck she was gorgeous lying before him and so desperate for a simple touch of his hand.
his knuckles brushed over the wet patch - that he caused- on her underwear and she inhaled a sharp gasp. he tsk’d at her reaction, shaking his head with a smirk on his face.
“tu es une petite chose désespérée,” (you are a desperate little thing). he chuckled breathlessly, eyeing her body squirm at such simple actions from him, “très sensible…” (very sensitive).
he teased her with words she could only guess the meaning of, pulling the hem of her panties back only to release it from between his fingers to slap back onto her skin. the sound filled the silence of the room and she flinched slightly at the feeling.
though she didn't have much time to react in any other way when his two fingers ran up her wet cunt, her folds rubbing against the soft cotton of her soaked panties. he teased her clit, rubbing circles with his thumb in an agonizing pace.
biting her lip and grasping at the pillows above her head, she clenched her thighs around his hand, trapping his fingers out of desperacy to feel more.
he only chuckled at her need, her attempt for a sliver of control. because he knew she had none.
he still managed to slip his hands away from her core despite her desperacy to keep him close and use him, which he didn't mind, but he preferred to have control. the warm hand from her chest emerging from the bottom of her lace tank to pry her legs apart, which didn't take much force from him. though she whined at the lack of contact.
hands placed on her knees, sliding his callused hands down the front of her thighs to rest at the point on her waist the top of her shorts rested. firmly grasping handfuls of the flesh of her hips, he tugged her body sharply against his.
unfortunately for her, his hands left her side - which she objected to - for merely five seconds to slip his blue shirt from his torso.
“calme,” (quiet) his tone was firm, yet a smirk etched its way onto his face as he saw the way her face changed as his toned torso was now in full view for her to marble at.
he let her as her fingertips barely reached his skin. she returned the smirk as she saw the rising goosebumps from the sensation of her nails down his abs before reaching where his v-line was interrupted by the tops of his sweatpants.
he shook his head at her actions, catching her wrists with both his hands and pushing them into the pillows above her head. “it's your turn now, belle,” his voice was raspy as he whispered in her ear. fingers fidgeting with the hem of her tank as he waited for her permission.
instead of giving it to him, she’d rather try to turn the teasing back on him, but unlike her, he loved the show she gave as she peeled her top from her body slowly.
on contact with the cold air, her nipples hardened again and charles could swear he salivated at the sight of her bare chest, as if he hadn't seen it plenty of times in the past.
“tu es trop jolie pour moi, ma chérie,” (you are too pretty for me, my dear) he muttered under his breath, hands full of her breasts as he couldn't resist himself.
okay, maybe her slow strip-tease did work on him a little bit. a little too well because now he wanted to see all of her.
shuffling his way till he stood at the foot of the bed, hastily slipping off his sweatpants without breaking his gaze on her body. the rise and fall of her bare chest, her hands returned to their spot on the pillows, her legs now crossed and hips moving to find friction against the cotton of her clothes to give her something to go off of. biting her lip as she tried, all while he watched.
the sound of his sweatpants hitting the floor as he disregarded them across the room, his attention on her never faltering as she watched him crawl across the bed back to her.
his toned shoulders and biceps, veiny forearms and hands, eyes locked on hers, disheveled hair and half-lidded eyes. the heat of his gaze made her squirm as he crawled back up to her, bodies pressed together as his head once again dipped into the crevice of her neck.
kissing down her body, he went further, and further, and further till he stopped at her stomach, hands on her hips to her thighs to unknot them just enough. hands back to her hips to lift her just slightly and with his fingers around the hem of her shorts and panties, slowly slid them down.
he's so pretty when he goes down on her, green eyes watching as he dipped lower, and lower, and lower. gold-skinned eager baby, blue shirt out the laundry now across the room.
his warm breath against her stomach as he watched her carefully, analyzing every little movement and subtle reaction. every brow crease, mouth twitched, nose flare, every swallow and gulp that traveled down her throat, small fly-aways from her hair starting to matte down to her skin.
biting her lip as he lowered down her body, dangerously close to the spot between her thighs. close enough to feel his breath against her thighs, and he could feel the warmth radiating from her.
anticipation building in her stomach, hips rolling to close the gap from his face to her cunt, but his hands holding her down firmly stopped her. a whine in desperation slipping past her lips, pushing her head further back into the pillow in anguish.
“regarde-moi, chérie.” (look at me, darling) he spoke so sweetly, yet so tauntingly, like he'd never give in to what she wanted if she didn't do what he needed her to.
“charles, please…” she begged because she wasn't entirely paying attention to what he was asking of her, especially when he spoke another language. she didn't have time for translation.
he shook his head, pressing his face into her inner thigh as he chuckled at her tone, so needy and only for him.
“look at me, amour,” he repeated in english after kissing her thigh.
now propped up on her forearms, watching her beloved monégasque boyfriend looking back at her with a smug smirk on his face.
she scowled back at his expression, opening to make a snarky comment about it. her jaw hung open after he finally closed the gap after waiting too long, his tongue licking a single stripe up her cunt.
she rolled her eyes in annoyance, falling back down into her pillows as she groaned in annoyance, “fuck you, charles.”
“i’m sure you'd love to, darling,” he teased before tasting her again, humming into her cunt which incited a hand through his hair, pushing him closer and a whine to slip past her lips.
when he'd done enough teasing for his own enjoyment, he indulged further into her core. his hands snaking around to the crevice where her thigh met her hip to pull her further into him.
squeaked moans barely making it out of her mouth as he worked away at her clit, her hand in his dark hair to push him closer in fear he would stop.
nips at her folds and whines whenever he would do so, tugging a little harder on his hair causing groans from him. vibrations of his groans through her clit, stimulating her more and more.
legs trembling as her thighs clamped tightly around him, and he didn't dare stop her. he was in heaven. she was sweet, perfect in contrast to her bitter attitude only seconds ago. he nearly broke eye contact when he was first reminded of how she tasted.
caressing her hips, he refused to part with her cunt, his lips coated with her slick as he heard the pattern of her moans falter.
she was so easy to tie in knots, and so easy to untangle too, shuddering harshly as she barely let out a moan. tugging tighter at his hair, pulling him closer as if he would leave her unsatisfied as she came undone on his tongue.
he didn't stop after the first, or the second. it wasn't until she was close to her third that he even considered a break. after the second, his pace slowed to small movements from his tongue, lightly teasing her now sensitive clit.
soft tears ran down her cheeks at the overstimulation between her legs, but she didn't stop him. it felt too damn good.
the third came the slowest, but hardest as he managed to coax it out of her patiently.
by the time he had pulled away, his hair was even more messy than before, her slick covered his lips and chin, his tongue licking away the remnants of her on his face. his shoulder slightly red at her barely clawing away at his skin.
by the time he had pulled away, tears streamed down her cheeks, hair matted to her forehead, her arched back dropping down the sheets, and her hands that were previously in his hair now gripped tightly at the pillows by her head. her eyes, hazy and tired, her chest rising and falling with hastened breaths as he crawled up to her, running a hand through her equally-matched messy hair and wiping stray tears that he caused, even though he knew it wasn't a bad thing.
without a word, he got up, leaving to slip into their bathroom. she heard the faucet run from her position on the bed and she rolled to the edge, peeking at his actions.
she knew he would take tender care of her, no different to how he did so every time.
proofread by @foreveralbon <333
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chilumi-shipper · 7 months
Text
Mama and Papa
Neuvillette x Fem!Reader
Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Breeding Kink, Cockwarming, Creampie
Summary: You absolutely adore the Melusines, treating every single one as if they're you're own child. That tenderness you hold dear for the cute little creatures was what drew the Chief Justice to you in the first place, seeing how even the tough Melusine guards seem to indulge and melt into your motherly embrace. However, for some reason, the scene of you all sweet and caring with the Melusines invoked another feeling from Neuvillette, one more... flithy and sinister than mere adoration.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
His eyes can't help but wander...
From the papers on his desk, all the way to your figure sitting on the floor. Two little Melusines accompanied you, one sleeping on your lap, the other behind you and braiding your hair.
The serenity of the scene before him prevented him from keeping his eyes off you... your presence was simply too alluring.
"Miss Y/N, are you our Mama?" Sedene, the one braiding your hair, suddenly asked, opting a surprised look from you, as well as your lover just a few feet away from you.
There was innocence in the little darlings eyes, "You are very nice to us, just like a Mama." She reasoned her question as she finishes off your braid with a bow.
"Hmmm, I guess I am your Mama! If you want me to be." You answered, caressing Sedene's cheek. "And that means that Neuvillette over there is your Papa!"
The Chief Justice assessed what had just unfolded in front of him, the cutest interaction he's ever seen in, perhaps, his entire life. Sedene's eyes met his, expectantly waiting for a confirmation of what you said.
"I suppose that makes sense." He answered the Melusine's questioning gaze, enjoying the huge smile that was brought to her face as she looks back at you.
That is when Neuvillette can truly take in the situation...
You and him... Mama and Papa...
Being parents together, that would mean seeing you with a swollen belly, nurturing a baby born of his and your love...
From him breeding you and coating your insides with his cum, your breasts would be producing milk for your child, and you would look absolutely radiant completely naked for him to please make love to and-
"Papa!" Neuvillette was taken out of his (very filthy) trance when Liliath, the one previously asleep on your lap, yells for him.
When he looked at her though, the Melusine gasps, "It's true..." She then looks back at Sedene. "He is our Papa! He looked when I called him Papa!"
"That's what Mama said!"
You giggled at their conversation, none the wiser of the piercing eyes that stared at you and was currently picturing you in his dirty fantasies.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
"W-Woahh... darling, hold on..." Your words seem to only come out as a breath, closing your eyes as you hold on for dear life.
He had you in a mating press, keeping your legs pressed against your chest as he eases into you slowly. Neuvillette is rather big, and you held desperately on his arms as he shoved himself all the way in.
He lets out a deep groan when he finally started to move, immediately opting for a fast pace. "Darling... I-" Neuvillette found it hard to get his words out, the feeling of your pussy squeezing him tight was far too good to be interrupted by his thoughts.
He was being rough with you, holding tight onto your thighs, thrusting hard into you, making sure to mover around so that you feel him fill you up to the brim with his cock. It wasn't like your usual love making... this one... he means business...
And boy, did you feel what he meant by the way his cock pounded you over and over, giving your pulsating cunt the pleasure that it wants.
Your husband couldn't be more hot at that moment, so focused on drilling into you, looking intently at where you connect. "I love you, Y/N." He whispered into the air breathlessly, eyes shut as he felt your insides squeeze him.
"I love you too..." you caressed his face and smiled, feeling full of love... in more ways than one.
As you continued, he pounded you even faster, a clear sign that he's about to cum. He would usually pull out already, preparing to coat your breasts with his hot seed.
However, he remains inside you, thrusting continuously, making you call out for him. "Neuvi... Ahhhh...." You moaned as you grabbed onto his arm. "I'm gonna... I need to..."
"Inside."
"Ahhhhg... What...?" You half moaned out, looking at him as you were almost blissed out from his cock fucking you so good.
"I want to cum inside you, Darling..." He said in such a dangerously low voice, sending shivers down your spine. "Will you let me?" He slowed down his thrusts into you, looking at you, almost begging.
You were rather shocked at his request, looking at him wordlessly.
"Please, darling..." He whispered once again. "Wanna breed you..."
And that did it for you, you nodded immediately, allowing him to do as he please.
You moaned loud as you came together, you feeling extremely fucked out as you felt his cum coat your insides, "Ohhh, Neuvi..." He buried his face on the crook of your neck, not bothering to take his cock out of your pussy.
"Thank you... I love you..." He said, his voice muffled by your skin. He inhaled your sweet smell before rolling to your side, holding you close so that you could cockwarm him and keep him all nice and warm. He also wanted to make sure that his cum would stay inside you.
"You know, Neuvillette..." You started in a rather teasing tone. "I think it would take more than one round for you to actually breed me..." You moved to be on to of him, sitting on his cock as you smile almost innocently.
You felt his cock stiffen inside you, making you giggle. "Don't worry, Darling... I'll make sure you get what you want..." You kissed him on the lips, your hips starting to move up and down.
"Breed me, Darling..."
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
I absolutely love Melusines and now I have adopted every single one of them. I am now their mother.
Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy my once a year update!
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