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#I’m in your head rent free and I don’t want to be
angelnumber27 · 4 months
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You lost true friends due to being a crazy person
Uh ma’am this is a mdcdonalds…
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monitorkernelaccess · 3 months
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does anyone remember when team salvato had that “for fans by fans” fanart merch contest, but like it had a backstory that monika “wasn’t allowed to participate” cause “she always wins and it would be unfair :(” but like all images of her and mentions of her name were glitched out, and in the background of the promo art there was a piece of paper with her poem “Hole in Wall” mostly erased (and not even in her font asset, just in the neutral/MC handwriting font) so all signs pointed to monika’s file being deleted
but then literally none of that was ever directly acknowledged in the posts or the merch for the contest, or in ddlc+ lore, or on other posts from team salvato’s twitter or monika’s twitter account? so, though it probably wasn’t intended to be lore to begin with, we never got any context for it, even within the constraints of the “backstory” for this specific contest?
…no? just me? ok.
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castlesinchaos · 2 years
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I read solitaire last night and I’m actually much worse now thank you for asking.
You can’t just say
“I don’t want people to try and understand why I’m the way I am, because I should be the first person to understand that. And I don’t understand yet.”
and expect me to be perfectly okay afterwards. It’d be easier to ask me to disassemble the known universe atom by atom and then put it back together again.
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shotmrmiller · 5 months
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I'm your only situationship.
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A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.
18+ MDNI
TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar. 
Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink. 
“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”
“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”
“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”
“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?” 
He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.
“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”
His phone vibrated a minute later.
“I can’t today, Si.”
“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”
As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.
“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”
Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.
“Hiya, Si!” 
“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”
“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison. 
“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”
“No.” And hangs up. 
The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—
“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”
One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’
You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice. 
The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder. 
“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” 
You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”
Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—
“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”
“Where is he?”, he snarls.
“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”
You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,
“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”
“No, pet.”
“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”
“Pet.” 
You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.
You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.
He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out, 
“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,”  grind—and you whimper in his ear,  “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “ 
He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”
With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked. 
Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed. 
You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.
Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand,  goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—
Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.” 
You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him.  With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank. 
“You have a condom?” 
You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”
“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”
You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it. 
“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.” 
You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise. 
He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.” 
He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock. 
Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back,  stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.
That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length. 
“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.
“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”
He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it. 
He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.
“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.” 
You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
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backwzzds · 5 months
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ೃ⁀➷ spoil you, plug!eren
eren hated when you spent your own money, but you don’t listen.
thinking about the way plug!eren would take you on his drops with him. you were so quiet and in your own world, he never minded the fact that you had your freshly white painted toes resting against the dash of his mercedes AMG coupe. the entire car was blacked out with expensive ceramic tints, protecting you both from your usual…late night activities.
your glasses rested on the cute bridge of your nose as your left leg was sat in eren’s lap while your right rested against the dashboard. eren was lucky that he fucked with most of his customers heavy…you two had been waiting for the dude to meet y’all for nearly thirty minutes now, and had it been someone else, eren would have sped away long time ago.
eren comfortingly rubbed your baby soft feet in the grasp of his tattooed hand, one with beautiful realism art of your own eye. with a turn of his head, he could see you practically nose deep in the bright screen of your phone illuminating through the car. “you growing bored mama?” his voice is concerned. “ian think we was gonna be waiting this long on dude…my bad baby.”
you hadn’t said much since you’d gotten in the car, just wanting to hurry and add all of your things to your shopping cart on the skims website. “nah, ‘m just…trying…to do somethin’ real quick,” you bite your lip as you tap away on your phone. you were trying to add as many things to your cart before it was gone. “before this shit sell out.”
eren being the nosy boy he is leans against your shoulder to see what you were doing. but the moment he’d seen you type in numbers that belonged to what he knew as your own debit card, he kissed his teeth in annoyance. “man how many times i gotta tell you to stop using your card to go shopping bae?” you roll your eyes at his words. “i’m serious, you got all three of my cards on ya phone for a reason. fuck is you typing in your info for?”
don’t get him wrong, eren loved the fact that you were independent and knew how to handle money almost perfectly now that you were in your twenties. but being together with you for so long, he continued to step up with his provider capabilities by always taking care of you. whether it was paying your bills, rent—everything in between.
but of course it was a struggle when ms. i can do it all by myself meets mr. i know you can but let me do it for you
“because i’m spending like 600 dollars,” you point out to his previous question with an obvious scoff. “i’m not asking you for that.” eren mirrors your actions and rolls his eyes again.
eren looks at you as if you’re insane and suffered memory loss for the past four years you’ve been together. “babe…i make that shit in one night. actually—fuck a night—i make that shit in two hours!”
it wasn’t like he was lying either, with the way that eren was one of the only trusted plugs in town, it was very easy that he’d bring at least a band a night on a consistent basis. selling for almost six years was finally paying off.
you two hardly ever fought, but if you did, it was always about money. eren knew how long you’ve had to do things on your own physically and financially. you couldn’t go to your mom for help, you didn’t have a dad to beg, so it was all on you since you’d been 16. but now that he had eren, he’d just wish you’d let him take the burden of money of your shoulders and take care of you the way you take care of him.
after a few minutes, your boyfriend holds his hand out. you give him crazy eyes, but eventually follow orders by putting your phone in his hand. “don’t know how many times i gotta tell yo stubborn ass, forreal,” he grunted. “‘s never a problem spoiling my baby. you don’t ever ask me for nothing. let me feel useful and get you stuff, mama.”
with a sigh, you nod your head, like you always did. there was no way eren was gonna take no for an answer when it came to spoiling his wife.
in response, eren uses his free hand to delete your information and instead place the correct numbers—the information to his amex black card. all the money he has, he sits and does nothing with it, so why not buy you all the things you’ve never had before?
when you hear the chime of your phone confirming your order, eren hands you the phone back and goes to look out his dark window.
with your acrylics, you grab eren by the neck and slowly turn him back to face you. “thanks papa,” you gave him genuine eyes.
eren leans forward and pecks your lips. with a serious face, he pecks you one more time before wrapping his tatted fingers around your neck erotically. with a look in your eyes he tells you, “always tell me what you want, no matter how much, mama. you know daddy gonna get that shit for you one way or another, regardless.”
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ellemj · 5 months
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Insufferable: 12 Days of Smut #2
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot
Summary: You and Bucky get separated from Sam and Sharon during a mission in Madripoor and are stranded in a motel room until you can get in touch with them again. How do two sworn enemies pass the time?
Warnings: profanity, teasing, fingering, possessive!Bucky, oral sex (male receiving), slight face fucking, female masturbation, unprotected sex, praise, some use of y/n, hate sex, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.
Word Count: 5.7k
A/N: I feel like this one is better than yesterday's but idk. @littlemiss-yeehaw helped me make some executive dialogue decisions and helped keep Bucky as the hot little shit that we all know him to be.
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         Power Broker is watching. You’ve read the spray-painted words on the wall a million times now as you stand in the dark alleyway, telling yourself over and over again that picking a fight with Bucky isn’t going to make your current situation any better. Even if it is his fault that you’re miles from where you should be, being chased by god knows how many bounty hunters, and so far from Sharon and Sam that your comms aren’t even working at this point. Fuck it, you’ll pick a fight.
         “Is this how you wanted to spend Christmas Eve?” You spit out the question with as much malice as you can, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back against the brick wall of some shuttered, probably illegal business. Bucky’s face contorts in annoyance as he lifts his right hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s getting so tired of you tonight. First, you stupidly thought it would be fine for you and Sharon to partner up and head out into Madripoor on your own. Sam and Bucky were quick to snuff out that idea, even though Sharon was fully on board with you. Nobody gives a shit if Sharon used to be the power broker here or if you have more kills under your belt than most other trained assassins on record. Madripoor is lawless, crawling with criminals who will never pay for their sins, and it’s no place for two attractive women to be running around alone. Even if you can both take care of yourselves, why invite conflict by walking around town without either Sam or Bucky as a deterrent? The fact that you didn’t want to walk around with the damn Winter Soldier right behind you was almost insulting. Did you question Bucky’s reputation? Do you not understand how notorious he is in a place like this?
         “With you? No.” Bucky answers with just as much malice as you threw at him.
         “Then you should’ve listened to me and let me and Sharon take the lead.” You scoff. Bucky shoots you an indignant look, but you stare right back at him with your own expression of disdain.
         “I don’t take orders from you.”
         “That’s exactly why we’re in the situation we’re in now.” You mumble the words out just loud enough that he can hear them. He stands a few feet away from you and you watch him as his pulls his phone from a pocket of his tactical pants and begins typing away on it. You imagine he’s texting Sam a message that says something like if you don’t find us in the next two minutes I’m going to kill this girl. What he’s actually doing is searching up the nearest place that rents rooms to lowlifes without asking any questions. He wants the two of you off the street as fast as possible so he can try to get in contact with Torres and find out how to get your comms working again. Until comms are working, you’re basically doing everything blind, and that won’t work for Bucky. Not when he has to worry about three other lives besides his own.
         The cloud of anger swirling around you isn’t quite thick enough to stop you from appreciating the way Bucky looks tonight. He’s dressed in his usual full tactical gear that he wears for most missions, with one unusual change: his vibranium arm is on full display. He picked a top that is conveniently missing the entire left sleeve. You understand why he chose it, knowing how his name and even his arm precedes him. One look at him tonight, at the colorful lights of Madripoor nightlife reflecting off of his dark metal arm, keeps even the most aggressive men here at bay. No one would dare mess with the Winter Soldier, especially not when he’s radiating as much anger as he is right now. Well, no one besides you.
         “I’m not going to keep waiting around here for you to come up with a new plan.” You announce, pushing away from the brick wall and tossing your hair over your shoulder. Bucky looks up from his phone, narrowing his eyes at you. “We know where Sam and Sharon were headed, we can just meet them there.” You start heading for the street at the end of the alley, but just as you brush past Bucky, he grabs your arm roughly and stops you.
         “No, we’re going to get somewhere safe and wait for Torres to fix comms before we do anything.” Bucky’s holding your arm tightly, keeping you just a couple of inches away from him as he looks down at you with a harsh gaze. You shake his grip off but don’t move away from him.
         “What makes you think you get to decide on the new plan?” You ask, leaning in a little closer as the question leaves your lips. You almost let out a laugh when Bucky’s eyes flit down to your where your lips are mere inches from his own. You’ve done this dance with him before. You’ve been in plenty of these tense situations with him, moments in the field where you’re so against each other that you can’t decide if you want to fight him or fuck him. Of course, you’ve always simply fought him in the past. Fucking him was never actually an option, but hell, it sure is satisfying when he does something that lets you know he thinks about it as much as you do.
         “I’ve already decided on the new plan. You can either go along with it or go out and get yourself killed. I’m starting to not really give a shit about what you do.” Bucky retorts. He looks down at his phone again, breaking the intense eye contact that you were sort of enjoying. “There’s a motel two blocks over. I say we go there and wait for Torres to figure out what the hell is wrong with comms.”
         As much as you want to continue defying Bucky, you know it’d be a hell of a trek from here to wherever Sam and Sharon are right now. There’s also no guarantee that they made it to their destination, they could’ve run into any kind of trouble in a city like this. They might be acting out their own backup plan, just like you and Bucky. Bucky turns around and starts heading for the street, not even looking back to see if you’re following. When you let out a soft sigh and he hears your small footsteps echoing off of the brick walls, he knows he’s won this fight. He doesn’t even try to hide the smug look that’s spreading across his face. Winning an argument with you is something he can be proud of, because it doesn’t happen very often.
---
         Christmas Eve in Madripoor. Has anything ever sounded sadder than that? Christmas Eve, surrounded by a community of people who have done enough horrendous things to rival the entire population of Guantanamo Bay. Bucky sinks into the only chair in the dingy little motel room, checking his phone once again to see if Torres has called him back yet. Still nothing. Nothing from Sam or Sharon either, though he didn’t expect anything from them since the area they were headed into is known to utilize various types of phone and device jammers, transmitting radio waves that block phones from connecting to cell towers.
         You study Bucky from your place on the foot of the bed. He’s leaned back in the small armchair, clearly attempting to get comfortable but failing because he’s way too big for such a little seat. He closes his eyes and lets his head rest back, giving you a chance to really look at him. He’s let his stubble grow out a little more than usual this month, neglecting to really shave it with all of the back-to-back missions you’ve both been sent out on. It suits him. Someone as cold and calloused as Bucky shouldn’t have a smooth baby face. Your eyes coast further down, focusing on where you can just barely see his pulse on the side of his neck. You wonder how many times you’ve made his pulse quicken with anger in this last week alone. Probably enough to give the guy high blood pressure. Your gaze is just settling on his broad shoulders when his eyes blink open and he catches you staring.
         “Are you going to sit there and stare at me until we get out of here?”
         “Maybe. It’s what you do to everyone else, why can’t I try it out?” You ask. There’s a reason Sam likes to call him the bionic staring machine.
         “Try it out?” Bucky laughs, lifting his head from the back of the chair now. “You stare all the time.”
         “I do not.” You’re almost offended at his accusation. You? Staring all the time? At him? No fucking way. Maybe sometimes, but you thought you were covert enough about it that he never noticed. You just can’t help it sometimes. You’re intrigued by him every bit as much as you hate him. He’s over a hundred years old, yet he looks like he’s only a few years older than you. His taste in music is that of an elderly man, while his taste in clothes is perfectly in style with the current era. You hate the way he’s constantly berating you and attempting to order you around in the field, but you like the way he looks at you when you give in and take an order once in a blue moon. So, sometimes, you stare.
         “You’ve been staring at my arm for half of the night.”
         “Because it’s the only thing I like about you.”
         “Right, the only thing.” Bucky repeats your words slowly, as if he’s tasting them. You maintain eye contact with him as he licks his bottom lip. Against your better judgement, your gaze darts down to his mouth, to his mouth that always seems to say things that drive you mad and turn you on simultaneously.  “You know, I thought you might be nicer around Christmastime.” A genuine laugh breezes past your lips at the absolutely insane thought he’s just shared with you.
         “It’s a little hard to be nice when we’re stuck on skull island on Christmas Eve, Bucky.”
         “Be honest, you wouldn’t have been any nicer if we were back home.” He tilts his head to the side as he analyzes your body language. You’re sitting on the foot of the bed with your legs dangling over the edge. Your weight is resting back on the palms of your hands and you seem perfectly at ease. Bucky’s finding it a little surprising that you haven’t gotten up and made a dramatic exit yet. He’s surprised that you’re still going along with his plan at all honestly. He has to wonder why you’re so oddly content sitting here bantering back and forth with him while Torres takes his sweet time figuring things out.
         “Wouldn’t you have been off to Sarah’s for Christmas if we were back home?” Bucky raises an eyebrow at your question. He didn’t know that you knew he was close with Sam’s family. Though, he probably should’ve assumed since you knew Sam long before he did. You’ve probably even met Sarah before.
         “Maybe. Spending Christmas in the tower doesn’t sound very memorable.”
         “It’s not.” You say softly, thinking back to the last three years. It’s not that you didn’t have anywhere to go for Christmas. In the past, Sam has invited you to go see Sarah and the kids the week of Christmas, even Clint extends an open invitation for you to spend every Christmas with his family. But something about being around happy families on the biggest holiday of the year makes you feel the same way you do when you’re third-wheeling Wanda and Vision. You like to be around the Christmas cheer and festivities but you feel like you don’t fully belong. You’ve spent the last three Christmases in the tower on your own and it’s not that bad. A little lonely and not your favorite time of year like it used to be, but still, not that bad. Bucky picks up on your slightly sullen tone and the way you seem a little more distant suddenly.
         “You’re welcome then.” Bucky says, a smug smile taking over his features. You shoot him a slightly confused look.
         “For what?”
         “For giving you a memorable Christmas.” He says it like he’s just given you an actual Christmas gift. You laugh lightly just as his phone is lighting up with a message.
         “You say that like I’d actually thank you for sabotaging our mission tonight and getting us stranded in the shittiest place on Earth.” Bucky’s smug smile remains plastered across his face, even as he glances down and reads the text from Torres.
         “Looks like we’re stuck here for a while longer. Sam and Sharon got through to Torres and said they’re holed up somewhere across town, just like we are. Fury doesn’t want anyone making any more moves tonight without working comms and surveillance.” Bucky’s words bring your bad mood right back to the surface in an instant. You fall back onto the bed with a dramatic sigh, covering your face with your hands.
         “How long is a while longer?” You’re dying to know.
         “Could be a few hours, could be all night.” Bucky says nonchalantly, like he doesn’t have a care in the world that the two of you are stuck here together. It’s infuriating. You push yourself off of the bed and start for the door, but Bucky’s quick to rise from his chair and cross the small motel room in a mere four steps, reaching you just as your fingertips are brushing the door handle. He plants his flesh palm firmly against the wooden door, effectively stopping you from being able to open it. Fuck his super soldier strength.
         “I’m not staying here all night. There are things we could be doing besides sitting here waiting around.” You say impatiently, wrapping your hand around the door handle but not pulling yet. With the way the two of you are standing, Bucky’s chest is brushing against your back and for the life of you, you can’t figure out why the hell he’s so close.
         “What else could we be doing out there? You walk out that door and into the street and every bounty hunter in the city will be on you within five minutes. I’ve been hunted here before, Y/n, it’s not a game you want to play.” The energy between the two of you is so tense, so electrified, you wonder how your hand hasn’t sparked against the metal door handle.
         “Well, it’s a good thing you don’t give a shit about what I do.” You throw his words from earlier right back in his face. As Bucky’s hand against the door curls into a fist, you stand there waiting for him to back off. If he really doesn’t give a shit, he’ll let you walk out of here right now. But of course, Bucky gives a shit. Bucky gives so much of a shit that the mere thought of you waltzing out into the city at this hour, opening yourself up to unlimited danger, has him ready to burn the whole place down. You swallow as your grip on the door handle tightens, listening to Bucky’s even breathing right behind you.
         He doesn’t even know what’s come over him when he finds himself moving impossibly closer to you, letting his chest fully press against your back now. He leans down a couple of inches until his lips are grazing over the shell of your left ear, with his right hand still braced against the door over your right shoulder. He’s trapping you there with his body.
         “You are so fucking insufferable.” He whispers the insult against your ear, but it somehow it doesn’t even feel like an insult. It almost feels like he’s just whispered a little sweet nothing in your ear. Your grip on the door handle falters and Bucky notices, so he keeps going. He’ll do whatever it takes to get you to stay here, to stop you from walking out into Madripoor and getting yourself killed tonight. If this is what it takes, so be it. “You wanted me to stop you, didn’t you? You wanted me to force you to stay.”
         “N-no.” You lie, hating the way you stutter through the simplest two-letter word known to man. It’s so hard to think with him this close to you.
         “Insufferable and a liar.” Bucky tsks, just as your hand is fully falling away from the door handle. He can’t help but smile at how easily this is working on you. If he’d known he only needed to be a little more authoritative and stand a little closer to you to make you listen to him, he would’ve tried it a long time ago. You watch, with goosebumps spreading across your skin beneath your tactical suit, as Bucky’s right hand skims down the flat surface of the door slowly. He continues on until his hand reaches the deadbolt just above the door handle. Click. The sound of the lock clicking sets off a chain reaction. A wave of confidence spreads through you like a wildfire and you turn around in the small space that Bucky has you trapped in. You thought he might step back once you were face to face, but no. He maintains his position, but now with his chest nearly touching yours and his breath fanning across your face. Though you feel confident and sure of yourself in this moment, when you look up at him like this you feel small. You feel like he could push you against the door and have his way with you if he wanted, and you couldn’t do a thing about it except enjoy it. The thought actually turns you on way more than it should, considering how independent and stubborn you are.
         “Insufferable and yet you’re trapping me in here. Who’s the liar?” You taunt, tilting your chin up and looking into his blue eyes. His normally cold, steely gaze has a different look now. There’s something bright behind his eyes, something exciting. Your eyes dart down to his mouth, lingering on his bottom lip a little longer than they should have, before you meet his gaze once more.
         “Don’t look at me like that unless you’re going to kiss me.” His tone is harsh but his eyes are daring. He wants you to kiss him. He’s daring you to do it. Unfortunately, you’ve never been one to back down from a dare. Even the stupidest of dares. So, you commit to it. You look at him the exact same way you just did, letting your eyes coast down his face and soak in the sight of his full lips. When you meet his gaze one last time, there’s only one little thought in his mind.
         That’s it, good girl.
         You have to raise up on your toes to reach his lips, because of course Bucky Barnes would stand there refusing to make it any easier for you. He wants to see you struggle to get what you want from him. After making his working life a living hell for months, he’s going to have you exactly how he wants you, or not at all. So, as you stand a little taller on your toes, Bucky acts like he couldn’t care less that you’re about to give him something he’s fucking dreamt about every night since he first started hating you. When your lips press against his, his bottom lip finds its place between the two of yours and he almost scoffs at how timid you’re being. It’s like you’re testing the waters, and he’s not having any of that. He’s quick to fist his hand in the hair at the nape of your neck and walk you back one step so your ass hits the door. He breaks the kiss before it’s even been a second, giving you an annoyed look as he holds you in place between his body and the door.
         “Let’s try that again.” Bucky says the words right against your lips, as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and then slots his thigh between yours. As he bends his knee, his hands travel down your sides to grab onto your hips. He angles your hips down just slightly, as he brings his leg up an inch, and you look down right as your clothed cunt makes contact with his thigh. You inhale sharply at the unexpected move, but you don’t move at all. You stay right where he wants you, and he waits patiently for you to look up at him again. When you finally do, a switch inside of you flips and you know you’re about to sabotage tonight’s mission even more. You pull Bucky down to your mouth, kissing him with so much heat and intensity that his hands briefly loosen on your hips, like he wasn’t expecting this from you. After two seconds, his hands start sliding right back up your waist until you feel them both tangle in your hair, which he uses to pull you even harder against his mouth. You don’t think the kiss can get any more intense, until you feel his tongue dancing across your bottom lip. You part your lips without hesitation, letting him dominate the kiss in an instant.
         You taste so fucking good. So. Fucking. Good. So good that Bucky doesn’t notice the first time you grind your pussy against his thigh, he’s too focused on exploring every bit of your mouth with his tongue and savoring the taste of you. But the second time? Fuck. The second time you grind down on his thigh you moan into the kiss and Bucky has to stop. He pulls back while keeping one hand in the hair at the nape of your neck. The look on your face is pure lust. It’s longing. It’s making Bucky’s cock twitch in his pants and making it really hard to decide what to do with you first. God. That one kiss opened up the floodgates.
         “Let me hear that sound again.” Bucky encourages you while using his hold on your hips to guide you to grind down a third time. He watches between the two of you as you drag your cunt along his thigh. The moan that leaves your lips this time is too much. He’s had enough. He quickly pulls away from you, taking two steps back and running a hand through his hair. He eyes you as you stand with your back against the door, catching your breath and staring right back at him.
         “I want a memorable Christmas.” You speak so softly that Bucky has to rewind it in his head to really catch onto what you’ve just said. You want a memorable Christmas. You’re asking him to give you a memorable Christmas. He looks you over slowly, carefully, taking in every detail of the way you look right now. Your skin, though still covered by your tactical suit, heats up to an uncomfortable degree under his watchful gaze.
         “Say please.”
---
         He’s going to hate fuck you. There’s nothing else you could possibly call it, and honestly nothing else you’d want to call it. You’re standing in front of the bathroom sink, locking eyes with Bucky in the reflection of the mirror. You really thought he was going to take you to bed, but no. As soon as you gave in and said please like he wanted you to, he pulled you away from the motel room door and pushed you into the bathroom. He wants to take you from behind but he wants a clear view of how much you’re enjoying it the whole fucking time. If he’s about to fuck away the obscene amount of tension that’s been between the two of you for the last few months, he’s going to memorize every damn face you make, every sound that leaves your lips, and every inch of your body. He’s going to ruin you, so that every time you think about how much you hate him, you can’t help but think about how much you loved being fucked by him.
         You’re both quiet, except for heavy breaths and a few soft moans and groans, as Bucky starts taking off his clothes behind you. He juts his chin out slightly after dropping his shirt on the floor, gesturing for you to take your clothes off too. You follow his moves exactly, dropping your shirt on top of his. He takes a few seconds to admire the way your breasts sit so perfectly in your bra, but then he finds himself growing annoyed at even that little bit of fabric obstructing his view. He undoes it for you, with only one hand, while his free hand begins undoing his belt. Of course this fucking man can undo his belt with just one hand. After a few more agonizingly slow seconds of the two of you undressing, you’re both completely naked. Bucky takes a deep breath in, and when he breathes it back out it warms the back of your neck.
         Just like earlier, Bucky nudges your legs to spread a little wider, using his knee. Your body obeys his silent command like it’s routine for you. He loves the way you respond to him so willingly. He’s never had you like this, not even a little bit, and it’s giving him such a high. It’s the first time he’s ever had you listening to him without a single word of rebuttal, without any stubbornness or refusal. He should’ve fucked you so long ago.
         Bucky’s vibranium index finger traces over your spine, from the very top to the bottom, sending a chill all throughout your body. It only cools you off for a second, before he uses that same hand to push you forward until you’re slightly bent over the sink. His flesh hand dances across your ass, deftly dipping between your legs and making contact with your wet folds. He drags two fingertips back and forth there, collecting your wetness before focusing his touch on your clit. As soon as he applies pressure, your back arches and your ass presses back against him. That’s when you feel his hard cock, standing fully erect, nearly between your ass cheeks. He’s big. So big that for a second you fear there’s no way he’ll fit inside of you, but something tells you that you were made for his cock. It’ll fit. He’ll make it fit.
         “You can’t stand to be around me, but you’re nearly dripping for me.” Bucky says lowly, rubbing slow circles against your clit. A string of moans slips past your lips and he smiles as he watches your eyes close in the mirror. “That’s it, you like that, don’t you?”
         “You talk too much.” You snap, opening your eyes and meeting his gaze in the mirror. His smile darkens and he pulls his hand away from your clit. You should’ve kept your mouth shut. Suddenly, his ring and middle fingers plunge so deep inside of you that you see stars. He curls them, dragging his fingertips against the walls of your pussy over and over. He didn’t start out slow by any stretch of the imagination, no. He begins fucking those two fingers in and out of you at such a perfect pace that your legs begin feeling weak far too soon. You grip the edge of the bathroom sink so tightly that your knuckles turn white.
         “You don’t even have to answer me, baby. I can tell you like it.” Bucky punctuates his words with another hard thrust of his fingers, and then curls them again, in a way that makes that familiar knot in your lower stomach tighten more and more with each passing second. You try to drown out his voice, focusing instead on how fucking skilled he is with his hand. Bucky’s mesmerized as he watches you draw closer and closer to your orgasm. He almost wants to let you have it. He considers finger fucking you straight through it, and then giving you another on his cock, but he isn’t going to be that nice to you. If he only gets one orgasm here tonight, then so do you.
         The whine that leaves your lips when Bucky pulls his fingers out of you should embarrass you. You should absolutely hate how needy you are for him, but you feel his cock twitch against your ass when he hears the sound and you love it.
         “You like that, don’t you?” You tease. You love using his words against him. You do it often in arguments and he hates it. His jaw clenches, but he says nothing in response. Instead, he wraps his flesh hand around his cock and gives it a few quick strokes before lining it up with your entrance. He looks down between the two of you, letting his eyes roam down your arched back, straight to where his cock is poised and ready to slide in. He knows he’s big. He knows his cock is above average, both in thickness and in length. He knows the nice thing to do would be to warm you up a little more, build up to using three fingers on you before finally fucking you slowly until you adjust to his size. But the two of you aren’t ever nice to each other.
         So, Bucky begins pushing the head of cock inside you, letting his head fall back and his fingertips leave bruises on your hips and waist as he holds you firmly in place. He’s only an inch in and you’re already feeling the sting. Shit, he’s the biggest you’ve ever had. He hasn’t even let you get a look at his cock yet, but as he forces it into you, you’re thankful he didn’t let you see it first. You might’ve chickened out. Bucky isn’t even halfway in before you’re moaning and trying to pull off a little, attempting to wriggle out of his grasp.
         “Stop fucking moving.” He seethes, his head snapping forward so he can look at you in the mirror again. “You’re going to take all of it.”
         Everything was a blur when he finally bottomed out inside you. He didn’t even pause once he was fully inside you, he immediately began dragging his cock back out and then pushing it in again. After the third thrust, you started to feel pleasure.
Bucky alternates between watching the way you’re falling apart for him in the mirror and looking down to watch his cock repeatedly disappear into the most perfect cunt he’s ever fucked. He truly can’t decide which view he likes more. The first time you moan his name sends him into a tailspin. He has no control over the way he fists your hair in his right hand and yanks you back against his chest, keeping your back arched and your face perfectly visible in the mirror. He fucks his cock into you so relentlessly, repeatedly hitting just the right spot inside of you, that you’re sure your previous thought was right. You were made for his cock. There isn’t a doubt in your mind.
When you start pushing your ass back against him, meeting each of his thrusts, Bucky bites down on his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood. When he started this, he had every intention of finishing inside of you. He wanted to do it without anything between the two of you, he wanted to cum inside of you so deeply that you’d feel his spend dripping out of you for the rest of the mission. But suddenly all he wants to do is cum in your mouth. He wants you to know what he tastes like. He wants to see what you look like on your knees for him. The harder he fucks you, the more he thinks about it, until he’s positive he won’t be able to finish this any other way.
So, not even a moment later, Bucky is pulling his cock out of you and pushing your shoulder downward. You instantly understand that he wants you on your knees, and you oblige him without giving it a second thought. When your mouth opens without even a second of a pause, Bucky slides his length past your lips. His head falls back and a sinful groan graces your ears as he revels in the feeling of your tongue gliding along his shaft.
“Good girl.” He groans. Good girl. Fuck. The praise has you snaking your own hand between your legs, chasing your own release as Bucky uses your mouth like he owns it. In his mind right now, he does own it. After a few seconds, he looks down at you once again and notices what you’re doing with your hand. You moan around his cock as you rub circles over your clit and the vibration from the sound sends Bucky right to the edge. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You look up at him, your eyes giving him clear permission to let go. You want him to cum in your mouth. Another groan is ripped from his chest, and you hear your name fall from his lips just as you taste his cum. Your own orgasm comes crashing down right as he’s finishing in your mouth, and he watches you closely as you carry yourself through it.
Bucky wraps his hand around the base of his cock and pulls it out of your mouth slowly, the two of you maintaining eye contact like it would be a sin to look away. Seeing your mouth full of his cum gives him an unfamiliar feeling deep in his chest. He feels possessive. He wants you to know that you belong to him now.
As you swallow everything that he gave you, there’s only one way to describe how you’re feeling. While you still hate this man with every fiber of your being, you feel like you belong to him now. Your body isn’t your own anymore.
You belong to the man you hate most, and you kind of like it.
TAG LIST (if your user is crossed through, Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you):
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jyoongim · 2 months
Note
I was just thinking like..alastor in his nun outfit…Charlie takes us to confession for like an admitting our sins exercise (but it’s actually just in the hotel) to confess our sins, we admit to fantasising about Alastor and we reveal our dirty fantasies and he hears it..maybe decides to act on it to cleanse us of our sins….IDKKK
FORGIVE ME DADDY FOR I HAVE SINNED
(Love your writing btw) 
I LOVE YOU!!!! Thank you for reading my horny writings babe!!!
Title: Sweet Confession
”uuuuhhhh Charlie why do we have to confess our sins? Ain’t that a little personal?” Angel asked as she finished explaining her new ‘bonding’ exercise.
The princess beamed “That’s the whole point! To acknowledge your wrong doings and knowing that you can be vulnerable with the sins you’ve committed”
The group groaned but went on with it.
She had a curtain set up to give privacy and a chair to sit and you just spilled out your darkest secrets to a box?
it wasn’t her worst idea. Being vulnerable was good…so what was the harm?
You fiddled with your fingers as you took a seat.
This reminded you of when your mother would force to to church and seek advice from a priest about your woes. You never really understood the point.
You hadn’t committed the most elaborate sin, but you weren’t a pure sinner either.
“Remember take all the time you need! Crying is good!” You heard Charlie say as she closed the curtain, leaving you to yourself.
”what are you here to confess?” A automatic voice said from the box.
What could you confess? Your sin was boring…
”I-I have been pledged with rather lewd thoughts” you said shyly.
”I know it sounds crazy but I…I think about Alastor in these thoughts”
’Why?’ The voice responded.
You bit your lip “I don’t know. He’s witty, confident, rough around the edges. He’s always around and so helpful. I kind of feel bad now” your shoulders wilted.
”He’s just my kind of guy I guess. Tall, Dark, oh so handsome my gooooodddd” you gushed.
”and how do you think of him in these thoughts of yours?”
You gulped “He’s just so polite and a gentleman that it just does something to me. Under all that, he’s a demon. Its hot and mysterious and I just want him to fuck my brains out…not literally…well the fuck part literally but not til I’m dead”
”I want him. Like carnally. I knooooow I can be a good girl for him. I would let that man do anything to me. I want to give my utter and complete devotion to him as he ruins me. I want him to like its a need to breathe. He lives in my head rent free!” You whined.
”I don’t go a single night without touching myself to his voice. Its like velvet. I imagine how he would growl in my ear as he watch me tease myself. Pouring out praise and degrading words as I whine for his dick…oooohhh his dick I know its big I just know it. I need him inside me. To fill me with his cum. To carve my pussy to his shape and make me lose my mind. I think about being his willingly. I don’t need a deal to give him my soul” you trailed off. You hadn’t realized you were ranting. The very confession had your face flushed, thighs clenching at the thought of your fantasy coming true.
You laughed, shaking our head “I guess that’s a sin? Having lustful thoughts about some one? I didn’t really think anything of it but it felt good to admit that to something. people would think I’m crazy…fantasizing about the Radio Demon knocking the coins out of me hahaha”
You took a deep breathe and emerged from the curtain, feeling a bit better for confessing your darkest desires.
Alastor had a wide Cheshire smile on his face. Listening to the hotel’s residents secrets and woes gave him a sense of entertainment.
 Your confession about the red demon was very interesting.
Alastor’s mind had formed a very detailed picture of your confession.
You, doe-eyed and wanton as you whined for his cock. He would make you beg him to fuck you. To ruin you.
You shaking from overstimulation and covered in his cum flashed in his mind.
He chuckled darkly at the thought, Oh what a pretty pet you will make.
And who would he be if he didn’t make you sweet little fantasy a reality?
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shockercoco · 28 days
Text
Little Do You Know
Austin Butler x reader
Warnings - none just fluff
Word count - 1144
a/n - request: "I have a request. I was think about when Austin was in Budapest filming Dune II and reader showing him or the whole crew (Timothee, Zendaya, Florence) around the city in their free time and Austin gets a crush on the reader and the crew teases him about it" - hopefully i fulfilled your vision :)
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“You need to get out of this place, you know, get some fresh air,” you tell Austin as you stand in front of him.
He was currently reclining on the lounge chair in front of you reading Meditations by Marcus Aurelius. The book was literally centuries old, but somehow it caught his attention.
“I went out with you guys earlier,” he says referring to you and Florence, his eyes still attached to the book.
“That was for breakfast, and afterwards we came straight back here. I’m talking about just getting out and walking around to explore. This is your first time in Budapest, do you really want to spend your days off from filming surrounded by four walls all day?”
“It’s no use, he’s been stuck in that position all day,” you hear Florence say. Florence was sitting out on the condo’s balcony – it had been rented to the three of you for the duration of filming Dune. She swivels her chair around to join the conversation currently happening inside.
“I’m not taking no for an answer,” you glance at her before looking back at Austin. “This is unacceptable. You have plenty of time to read, the book isn’t going anywhere.”
“And Budapest isn’t going anywhere either, we’re going to be here for a while,” Austin looks up at you while he speaks, but immediately looks back down at his book when he’s done.
You scoff before you snatch the book out of his hands and hold it behind your back.
He lets out a big sigh and says, “really?”
Austin looks over at Florence as if he was silently asking for help, but she says, “I’m not on your side.”
He laughs at her statement before looking up at you. You raise your eyebrows, waiting for him to say something.
“I guess…I can take a break,” he finally says. 
You smile and hand his book back to him, before turning around and heading to your room to change. This causes you to miss the smile he gives you back and the way he stares at you as you walk away. Florence notices, though, but she already knew about his crush on you. It was the main reason he caved in so quickly.
What everyone doesn’t though is his reasoning for not wanting to go out – he doesn’t know how to act around you. When you look up at him he can’t help but smile, he also can’t help the way his neck turns red, but you don’t notice. When you asked him a question and he gave you an answer, he would end up overthinking for the next hour if his response was too long, or wonder if his answer was good enough, or even wonder if he made too much eye contact with you.
“Are you going to tell her, or should I,” she smirks at him as she comes inside from the balcony.
“Don’t you dare,” Austin points at her, and she laughs.
You took responsibility for being the tour guide around the city, this is what you do in all new cities. Anytime it was someone else, you just ended up being in charge in the end, but of course you took suggestions.
“Where to next?” you ask everyone behind you as you look down at the minimap on your phone. Timothee and Zendaya had finished filming for the day and ended up joining you guys on the sightseeing journey.
 The sun was setting and you all had just left St. Stephen’s Basilica, or as the locals call it Szent Istvan Bazilika.
“Oh, now you want to ask us?” Timothee jokes from behind you, causing you to turn around to see him smiling at you, Austin standing next to him with his hands in his pockets. You continue walking, but backwards to keep moving.
“Well I wasn’t going to, but I figured it was rude to not hear from the group,” you joke back with a shrug of your shoulders.
“I’m fine with you leading, you’re doing a great job,” Zendaya says from beside you, Florence hums in agreement from the other side of her. You look at Austin for his answer, and he just nods with a grin on his face
“Well thank you, I’m glad my service is appreciated,” you say to no one in particular and then look back at Timothee.
“Do you have a suggestion?” you raise your eyebrows at him.
“Well since I’m the only one that seems to have a problem, nope,” he laughs and you smile back.
Meanwhile, while you were talking to Timothee, Austin was watching you. He watched the way your face lit up as you joked with Timothee, the light from the sunset reflecting on your face. He watched how the whites of your teeth showed when you smiled and the way your lip gloss made your teeth look even whiter.
When you bumped into someone on accident from you walking backwards, he watched the way you immediately apologized and helped the person pick up their dropped belongings. He saw the embarrassment on your face when you turned back to the group to ask, “So no one was going to tell me that I was going to crash into someone?”
You easily brushed it off and turned around to continue walking, allowing Austin to stare at you as much as you wanted. When he heard you laugh at something Florence said, a grin instantly appeared on his face.
Austin felt Timothee nudge him in his side to get his attention. When he looked over, Timothee leaned in with a smirk to whisper, “you’re making it so obvious, just tell her.”
Austin playfully pushed him away. He did want to tell you, he just didn’t know how to tell you, which he knew was ridiculous because you wouldn’t be the first girl he admitted his feelings to. Another thing holding him back was the thought of you not liking him back and just seeing him as a friend.
What Austin didn't know, though, you had feelings for him too, but you were one of those people who would never admit their feelings first. You getting rejected? No. There was no way you could just move on and pretend like it didn’t happen. 
Florence and Zendaya both knew how you felt and kept asking you to tell him because according to them “It’s obvious Austin likes you.” You just thought they were saying that to try and convince you, not knowing it was actually true.
Eventually, Austin would admit his feelings to you when it felt like the right time, and of course you would say yes. When everyone found out that you were dating, you two would have to deal with the endless amount of teasing and ‘I told you so’s’ because little did you both know, the feelings were reciprocated.
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jenosbigtoe · 6 months
Note
so real on the "but i also really want alpha jeno in my guts" cause same 😩 his outfit on the bat is still living in my mind rent free
mdni. nsfw 18+
pairing: alpha!lee jeno x mate!reader
warnings: abo, unprotected sex, breeding, mating press, creampie, possessiveness
alpha!jeno is such a himbo.
you seriously wonder how long he’s survived without you by his side. he asks you the silliest questions, tilting his head and pouting his lip slightly as his eyebrows furrow in confusion. it’s the cutest sight to you, seeing this big muscular man act so clueless.
“why can’t we have just sex right now?”
“jen, your friends are literally in the living room and we are IN THE KITCHEN WITH NO DOORS.”
“okay but you’re my mate, they should understand right?”
and trust, he has an insane sex drive. he promises he’s never been this horny before he met you but now that you’re officially his, he gotta be inside you in some capacity at all times. you’re his mate duh, if he could crawl inside your skin he would.
you’ll be cuddling on the couch, watching a romcom, and he whispers “baby, can i stick the tip in? i’m so hard.”
you’ll be eating dinner at the dining table and his fingers gravitate to your thighs as he wordlessly cups your cunt under your underwear, mindlessly rubbing and pumping his fingers in and out of you.
and he would actually be so so sooo jealous of anything and everything that breathes and looks at you.
“oh so you like this stray kitten more than your mate alright how would you feel if i just ran away from home and became a stray too?”
“jen.”
he actually gets the most jealous when it comes to his friends being around you. he knows them too well, even if he trusts you and (to a certain extent) them.
“jaemin get the fuck away from my mate right now you absolute manwhore.”
“??bitch we’re literally just playing mario kart like 3 feet away from each other.”
“i don’t give a fuck she’s mine,” and pulls you into his lap to pout and snuggle you tightly, locking you in his massive biceps.
jeno is so silly as your mate but oh does he fuck you like no other.
his insane animal stamina has him going for hours after your legs have already become jelly and your mind fucked stupid from overstimulation.
“baby, you’re mine. my mate, my love. your body was made for me,” he would growl into your ear as he took you in mating press.
his thick heavy body would drive his cock so so deep inside your poor little pussy, you would be left sobbing.
“jen-jeno! s’deep,” you’d cry, hiding your face in your arms.
he’d grab your arms and pin them above your head, using his powerful hips to thrust so hard and so deep to keep you from squirming so much.
“ah. wanna see my mate as i fuck my pups into her. you’re doing so good, sweetheart.”
and he refuses to ever cum anywhere but deep inside your little cunt. “i don’t care if you’re on that stupid birth control bullshit, you’re gonna have my kids.”
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cozage · 8 months
Note
Coza!! Congrats on your 2K followers. 🥳🎉🥂
I like your smuts and I’m having a hard time choosing what scenarios to request!! I’m so excited for this event you have no idea. May I request for the Option 1? Reaction of Luffy+ Sanji+ Zoro+ Law+ Eustass Kid + Killer to you reading smuts/hentai please? Thank you!!
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A/N: Hi :) I wasn't able to do everyone, but I did a few! Minors…OUT! go on! Get! Scram! Also I won’t lie Zoro’s is based loosely off of the funniest comic I’ve seen in my life that stays living rent free in my head Characters: gn reader x Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Law Cw: smut and suggestive, NO MINORS ALLOWED ON THIS POST PLS GO AWAY Total word count: 900
Scandalous Reading
Luffy
Luffy’s head rested on your shoulder, his eyes lazily skimming the page that you were reading. 
“Woah!” Luffy grabbed the book out of your hand and put it up to his face to get a better view of the words. “I didn’t even know this was possible!”
“Luffy!” You reached for the book, but he held it just out of your reach, still reading. 
“I didn’t even think about trying-”
“Luffy! Give it back!”
His wide eyes peered over the pages, but he refused to hand it back to you. “Do you like this stuff?”
“I mean-I don’t-I just-” Your face turned beet red at the implication. “It’s just written really well!”
He gave you a mischievous grin and took off back toward his room, book in tow. “Come on!” he called. “I want to see if it really can work this way!”
Oh, you were in for a rough night.
Sanji
“My love, did you-” Sanji stopped, his eyes fixated on the book cover you were reading.
“Sanji?” you prompted, trying to get his attention.
“I know that author,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. “Where do I know that-”
“You probably don’t!” You slammed your book shut and shoved it behind your back. “What did you need?”
“Oh! Right! Would you like gelato or ice cream?”
“Surprise me!” you said, trying to get his mind off the book. “I’m sure whatever you make will be amazing!”
Sanji was in the kitchen when he finally placed it, and he almost collapsed from the realization of what he had caught you reading.
He brought you out the finest gelato he had ever made and set it down next to you. “So, my love,” he said, trying not to sound too excited. “How is your book?”
“It’s good,” you said. You set it down to grab your gelato, and Sanji lunged for it. 
He skimmed the pages, confirming his suspicion, and tried his hardest not to pass out from the filth his eyes found. “You’re reading book porn!” he whispered sharply. “You always get on me for staring at-”
“That’s not the same,” you hissed. “These aren’t real people! It’s different!”
“It is not!”
“What am I supposed to do!?” you snapped back, glaring at him. “You’re busy in the kitchen, I have to entertain myself somehow during the day!”
Oh, that was a bad way of wording things, because the second the words were out, Sanji’s eyes lit up. “Are you telling me you want to do something like this? Because I would love nothing more than to treat you like the royalty I know you are.”
Zoro
“What are you reading?” Zoro asked, looking at your book cover. 
“A book.” You tilted the book slightly to shield him from seeing any of the words.
“What’s it about?” He seemed strangely interested in the cover. “Swordmaking?”
Oh right, there was a sword on the front cover of the book. No wonder he was so interested in it. 
“It’s called Swords and Snakes. It’s a book about…royalty, love, and betrayal.”
He scrunched his face in disgust and went back to resting his eyes. “Not really my kind of book.”
You grinned. "No, I don't think it is." You set your book down and stood up. “Do you want anything? I’m going to go get a snack.”
“Riceballs.”
You nodded and went to the kitchen to grab food. What you hadn’t been expecting was returning to Zoro staring wide-eyed at the page you had dog-earred. 
He looked up at you in amusement, smirking at your anxious body language. “You weren’t joking about love and betrayal.”
“That’s mine!”
“More like love-making and betrayal,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know they wrote books like this. I didn’t know you would read books like this.”
“Well to be fair-” you snatched the book from his hands. “I didn’t know you could read at all!”
“Don’t be too bratty now,” he teased. “Or I’ll give you the same treatment that knight gave the princess.”
Law
You had only left your book laying on the bedside table for a minute while you ran to the bathroom. But damn that Trafalgar Law, he was so nosey. 
“Quite the fantasy world you read about,” he hummed as you walked back into the room.
“What do you-” your words died in your throat, seeing him flip through the pages. “Oh, that.” You gave a nervous laugh, striding back over to your bed. 
“Yes, this.” He slapped the book shut, peering up at you with such a predatory and lustful look that you almost took a step backward. 
“I just picked it up at the last bookstore we went to,” you lied. “I don’t even know what it’s about.”
“Right,” he said, clearly not believing you. 
He handed the book back to you, and you quickly grabbed it. “Thanks,” you whispered, unable to meet his eyes. 
“Sure.” He stood to take his leave, heading back to the lab. He stopped on his way out, leaning in to whisper in your ear. 
“If you ever want to make it a reality, all you have to do is ask.”
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bakubunny · 3 months
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smut one liners that live in my head rent free
a/n: many of these are written with f!reader in mind but can be changed to work otherwise.
“don’t be shy, baby.”
“who’s my pretty girl? say it.”
“look at me when i touch/fuck you.”
“c’mon, take it like a big girl.”
“oh, you wanna be in control, sweetie? go on then. give it your best try.”
“just like that, angel. i’m so proud of you.”
“i want to use you so fucking bad.”
“you like it when it hurts, don’t you?”
“i need you. daddy needs you, baby.”
“you want to cum? beg.”
“use your words, sweetheart.”
“i taught/trained you better than this.”
“show me.”/“show me what you’ve learned.”
“you’re such a needy fucking brat.”
“dumb bunnies like you are only good for one thing.”
“you love being a good girl, huh, princess?”
“try again, love.”
“you’re so wet, but i’ve hardly touched you.”
“aww… you’re fucking pathetic.”
“look at you… such a messy girl for me.”
“that’s it. don’t fucking stop, baby.”
“c’mon, let me hear it.”
“you can do better than that.”
“you’re so pretty when you cum, baby.”
feel free to use these i guess?
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gojonanami · 8 months
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SEEING YOU TONIGHT, IT'S A BAD IDEA RIGHT? - SATORU GOJO
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summary: seeing your ex was always a bad idea, but not if it was satoru gojo.
cw: 18+ readers only, smut, f!reader, innuendos, ex-boyfriend!Satoru, praise kink, thigh riding, degradation, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), breeding kink.
a/n: gojo and bad idea right by olivia rodrigo has been living in my head rent free and here's the product :).
word count: 3,873
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It was dangerous. 
Look at this picture I drew Nanami. Can’t believe he didn’t want to keep it. 
Gojo attaches a picture of a crudely drawn dick, and you snort at your phone. 
It was a dangerous game the two of you were choosing to play. 
Small. Is the response you choose. Short but funny. And just enough to elicit a response you want. 
You know the real thing is much bigger. 
And there it was.
The game the two of you chose to play back and forth always ended here one way or another - and usually it was him who drove it there in the first place. 
Is it? I don’t remember. 
Then come over and I’ll remind you. 
But that didn’t mean you were completely blameless either. 
You bite your lip at his text. You really shouldn’t. 
You’re just horny. 
That’s right. 
Another message. 
For you. 
Fuck him. But that’s what exactly you wanted to do again. 
You told yourself the last time would be the last time. After he had fucked you and left you high and dry, you told yourself you wouldn’t fuck your exes or let them fuck with you. And you didn’t — except for Gojo. 
He was always the fucking exception wasn’t he? 
And he was the exception to your ick to double texting - because you supposedly took too long to respond to his message. 
Should I show you what you’re missing? 
And it’s a picture of him fresh out of the shower, with the most shit eating grin on his face. Water ringlets traced his body with absolute reverence, his thighs teasingly visible, reminding you how you had come undone on them the last time you hooked up, and the towel of his was frustratingly too low on his waist. 
What’s your new address? 
Fuck.
And that’s what you were going to get done tonight. 
You didn’t know what to wear. But did it matter because it was going to come off anyway. You opted for a little black dress, one that was a little too short and little too tight. 
You pull up to his place - off campus - and it’s a new shiny high rise building that you stare up at with squinting eyes. Show off. 
“Trust me, I’m not overcompensating for anything,” and you whirl around to see him waiting for you, “but you know that don’t you?” 
“Oh do you ever shut up?” and he leans closer, tilting his sunglasses off his face, lips curled in that goddamn grin. His blue button-up and jeans made your breath catch -- god it had been so long since you've seen him out of his usual Jujutsu Tech uniform.
“I plan to, later tonight,” and you scoff, as he leads you to his building, a hand on the small of your back that sends sparks flying up your spine.
“Memory recalls you don’t shut up much during that as well,” and his hand snakes around your waist as you both walk in, nodding to the doorman as he lets you both into the elevator, “don’t you live at the school? I was surprised when you told me that have a place off-campus,” 
“Well I prefer to live in a place free of teenagers sometimes,” his arm leaves you, slipping into his pockets, as he raises an eyebrow, “unless you were looking forward to fucking in our old school,” 
You glare at him, “Gojo-“ 
“That’s not what you called me in Yaga’s classroom that one afternoon when everyone was away-" He says cheekily.
“Oh my god, Satoru, shut up,” and you crush your lips to his, and he’s grinning. His arms slip around your waist as if they never even left. But these weren’t the same lean arms that pinned you to a desk as he ate you out that one afternoon - no these were the ones of a man who has trained and seen battle time and time again. You were always surprised at how broad Satoru had gotten over the years - it shouldn’t be a surprise as he was always the “strongest” but he was lean and fit before, slender almost - but now, as he pressed you against the wall of the elevator, fingers digging into your ass, his body engulfed you. 
And you were already addicted to the feeling. 
If it was any more obvious, you don’t hear the ding of the elevator as you arrive at his floor, as he pulls away, “going to have to part for a second sweetheart, need to unlock the door.” 
But he pulls you along by your hand, and somehow that gesture is all the more overwhelming than anything you had done in the elevator. 
You watch him scan his keycard, unlocking the door, “How much does Jujutsu High pay you?” 
And he smirks, “Perks of being the strongest,” but you frown at that — you know those were few and far between. 
But he pulls you inside, pressing you against the door, “Now where were we?” He hums against your neck, his hands slide over your bare thighs, “I’ve missed this-“ 
“Could have fooled me,” you sigh as he kisses your neck, “I haven’t heard from you in a year,” 
“I am a very busy man,” and he lifts you with such ease, hands wrapped around your thighs, your dress so easily riding up, “wear this just for me?” 
“Just for you, and maybe on a few dates,” and his head tilts, expression flickering with jealousy for a millisecond before his god complex returns. 
“And yet here you are with me,” and he’s kissing you again, his tongue parting your lips with ease, as if he’s trying to erase any evidence of another person’s touch. You moan when he sucks on your bottom lip, “so pliable, aren’t you sweetheart? Just fall to pieces under my touch,” 
And his words serve to make you squirm, but as a challenge as well, as your hands tug him by his collar, “and you don’t? I recall that afternoon in the classroom, and I had to pray no one walked by so they wouldn’t hear your moans when I rode you,” 
But he’s annoyingly unfazed, his breath warm against your skin, “I love a woman who takes charge, that’s why I can’t get enough of you,” and he’s closing the gap between you, kissing your lips, before tracing kisses down your jaw and neck, until his teeth graze your pulse, “should I leave a mark?” 
“Gojo-“ 
“Oh I’m definitely leaving a mark now,” and his teeth dig into your neck, sucking and licking, drawing a moan from your throat, “does anyone else make you moan like this?” 
“Why are you interested in —ah—“ and he’s tugging the straps of your dress off, “that?” The last word comes out as a whisper. 
“No bra? And you’re so insistent that you weren’t flirting with me over text,” and he snaps the strap against your skin, “it’s always flirting when it’s us, sweetheart,” 
“You didn’t answer my question,” you grumble and he’s carrying you now, your arms around his shoulders, “Gojo-“
And he’s pressing you to the wall outside his bedroom, and he’s taking off his sunglasses - and no matter how many times you’ve seen his eyes - no matter how many times you’ve stared into them — they always make you feel like you’re drowning — breathless and slow, like you submerged in water, unable break to the surface. 
“Are you going to continue to call me that?” And he’s being rough as he teases your thighs apart, his fingers teasing the hem of your dress, “because I may take you right here - let all my neighbors hear you cum on my fingers, my mouth, or my cock - dealer’s choice,” and his kiss is bruising, as his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, relentless as always, always trying to prove himself, and he had nothing to prove. 
And it only took his hand shaking up your thigh to press on the wet patch of your underwear to make you break. 
“Satoru, fuck-“ and his grin makes you shiver. 
“Good girl,” and you nearly come undone from those words alone, as he carries you to his bedroom, tossing you into his bed without much to-do. 
You bounce against the springs of the mattress slightly, but he’s on you in a moment, perched over you, as he meets your lips in a desperate kiss, as if he had parted from your lips ten years ago as opposed to ten seconds. 
You are pulling at his shirt, trying to get it over his head, but he pins your arms down before you can, “not yet, baby,” 
You’re strong but not when he’s using his strength to hold you in place, “Satoru-“ and he’s using his free hand to slide your straps down lower, “that’s not fair-“
“I was born unfair,” and you snort, but it quickly turns to a groan when his hand squeezes your breast. 
“So sensitive,” and he leans his head down to suck on your nipple, “no one tastes as good as you sweetheart,” 
“And how many others have you tasted this year?” And he doesn’t pause, only switches to the other, as his fingers tease the other nipple. 
“I could ask you the same,” and you gasp as his teeth graze your nipple, “Satoru-“ and he pauses now, “tell me,” 
You grit your teeth, “No-"
“Then I’m going to suck a hickey here,” he kisses right above your nipple, “and you won’t be wearing these low cut dresses for a while,” and his teeth bare against your skin, and you jolt against him, “tell me,” he repeats. 
You lay your head back, “I said I went on a few dates, I didn’t say I have slept with anyone else-ah-“And he’s sucking the mark, his teeth biting and nibbling on the skin, as he soothes it with his tongue, “you said you wouldn’t-“ you whine, and he smiles, before pressing his lips to yours. 
“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he cups your cheek, “shyness suits you,” 
And he’s tugging your dress downward, rolling it down to your stomach, and you’re pulling at his shirt, until he helps you get it off his shoulders. And your eyes rake over his chest, “Like what you see?” 
You flush, “I never said you were bad to look at,��� and he raises an eyebrow. 
“Princess, I’m the best to look at,” and that draws a laugh from your lips, which he eagerly swallows, pressing his lips fervently to yours, looking to worship the mouth that just made that heavenly noise, “I haven’t been with anyone else,” he breathes, a centimeter from your lips, “since you,” 
“Really?” And he tilts his head. 
“Just for you, sweetheart,” and you don’t waste a moment. 
You’re flipping him on his back, and he’s staring up at you — in shock and then in lust filled eyes, a thick haze that settles over your body, as you press your lips to his again, and he surges to meet them. 
Your fingers are fumbling with his belt, and he’s trying to pull your dress down your legs. You part for a moment, standing to pull it off, before settling on his lap again, but his hands pull you to settle on his thigh instead. 
He flexes his thigh, and you stifle your moan, your cunt squeezing around nothing, “come on, ride my thigh,” your wetness soaks through and he groans, “you’re certainly wet enough for it,” 
“Fuck-“ and he flexes again and again, until you’re grinding against his thigh, and his cocky grin makes you want to slap him. 
“Sweetheart, you’re soaking through,” and he grunts, helping you ride his thigh, the muscle and fabric rubbing against your clit, making you moan, “that’s it, c’mon cum on my thigh like a good slut,” 
And that sends you over the edge, the squelch of your pussy on his leg growing only louder, as your juices run down his pant leg, “glad I could do that twice,” and he’s kissing your neck, “maybe we can make it a third,” 
And you meet his lips in a lazy kiss, your lips sliding across his at first, until it grows more insistent, and you’re back fumbling with his belt, pulling it off, and undoing the button of his jeans. 
“So needy,” he smirks, and he lifts his waist, to help you pull off his pants, “didn’t know you needed my dick that bad, Princess,” but the smugness leaves as you palm him through his boxers, a hiss leaving his mouth as you slip your hand inside, teasing the head with your fingers. 
“What was that again? Who’s needy?” You grin — you love watching him fold for you like this, as blood rushes to his cheeks and cock, he’s nearly panting as you palm him, and it’s such a pretty cock — was there anything about him that wasn’t unfairly perfect? “Fuck, I forgot how big you were - gonna split me in half, aren’t you?” But you’re going much too slow for his taste, as your fingers tease him, smearing his pre-cum over his length, as you lick it from your fingers, “and you always taste so good,” 
“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re toying with me,” he nearly growls, as you pull off his boxers, snapping the elastic against his skin as you do.
“But you’re my favorite toy,” and your fingers return around his dick, squeezing lightly, and that’s his final straw. 
You don’t even realize your back is hitting the bed until you’re already pinned under him, and he’s smiling between your thighs now, “two can play at that game sweetheart,” and he kisses your inner thigh, “and I always win,” 
And he’s pulling down your panties in a moment, letting a reverent fuck leave his lips as he stares at your swollen lips, “So pretty,” and he noses at your inner thighs, before his teeth dig into your sensitive skin, and your breath stutters, “and all for me,” 
“Satoru-“ and his fingers are parting your folds, making your hips jump at his touch, and he can’t have that can he? And he’s pinning your hips, as he stares at your pretty swollen folds, “stop teasing-“ 
“Like you stopped teasing me, Princess?” He raises an eyebrow, but he slips a finger inside, “but I’ll be nice, unlike you,” and he’s pumping his finger knuckle deep, slipping into places you could never reach yourself, “fuck, you’re practically swallowing my finger,” and a second finger is stuffed inside you, “can’t wait to feel this pussy around my cock,” and you’re shaking when he finally leans down to press a kiss to your pretty clit. 
“S-satoru,” you moan, a mess, as he fucks your walls hard with his fingers, the lewd squelching ringing in your ears, as he continued to pry apart your thighs, leaning down to press his lips to your clit again. 
And you whimper, before moaning, as he sucks at it, lapping at your pussy, as he continued to fuck you, “so sweet when you’re all fucked out, keep making those pretty noises, sweetheart,”
And you have no choice when his tongue slips in the stead of his fingers, fingers choosing to play and pinch your clit, a symphony of moans and whines leaving your throat, as you move to cover your face. 
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he coos, kissing your pussy as he speaks, “you’re going to make me self-conscious and we wouldn’t want that, would we baby?” And his words are not helping as he redoubles his efforts, pausing only to speak, as his hands sneak under your thighs to press you impossibly closer to his mouth, intent on devouring you, “look at me - wanna see my pretty baby’s face when she falls apart for me,” 
And you look, his face smeared with your cum, lips glossy and nearly dripping with it, as he grins, before feasting on you again, makes you fall apart as he wants, “cum in my mouth,” he murmurs, “wanna fucking live in his pussy,” 
And you’re coming undone, fast and hard, but he doesn’t seem to care, slurping and sucking every drop you bestow upon him, “I know where I got my sweet tooth now,” and he’s still eating you through your orgasm, as you shudder and shiver from his touch. 
“Fuck, ‘Toru, I swear to god-“
“I’m right here baby, you don’t have to swear your allegiance to me,” and he’s licking his fingers clean, making a show of it, “pretty sure you did that when you screamed my name when you came,” 
“You fucker,” and he’s giving you lazy kisses again, trying to bring you down from your high, just to bring you back up again, and you’re palming his erection now, “need you,” 
“What was that?” And he’s so smarmy, it makes you want to slap him or kiss him or possibly both, “say it again,” 
And then you squeeze his dick, making him grunt, “I said I need you,” and you’re brushing the head of his cock against your folds, again and again, making him groan, “any questions sensei?” You add mockingly, but that only serves to make him grin wider. 
“So fuckin’ eager for me to split you open with my dick huh, Princess?” His pre-cum dripping onto your fucked out pussy, “can’t go a second without being filled by me? I know sweetheart, I hit all the spots you can’t reach with your fingers right? Bet all those others can’t reach them either,” and he’s kissing you, hard, as he presses his cock into you, bumping against you, but never slipping in, “then I’ll just have to spoil you tonight, won’t I?” He notches himself against your slit, his traitorous mouth leaning down to suck at your tit before he finally eases into you. 
And you forgot just how big he was, as he finally sinks into you, his cock parting your folds, impatient as ever as he sinks slowly at first and than all at once, “you can still take me, and you always take me so well,” he groans, as your walls squeeze him, nearly making him cum right there, “you were made for me, made to fuck me,” he’s panting now, as you’re ready to fall apart under him. 
“Then fuck me,” and he does just that - no semblance of self-control left - not that he had much to begin with. Not when it came to you.  
He loves hearing you moan his name, over and over, as he begins to thrust in earnest, hips slapping against yours, making you gasp and your head roll back, “Satoru, Satoru, fuck-“ 
“Come on baby you can take it, look at how good you’re taking me, such a good girl,” and he grasps your chin making you look at where your bodies met, his cock slipping in and out of you with ease, a white ring of your cum around its base, “that’s it, c’mon, you make me feel so fucking good,” 
And then he’s slipping out of you, as you whines but now he’s pulled you into his lap, “baby, I can’t be doing all the work, now can I?” 
His thighs are sticky and wet with your fluids, as you start to ride him, your thighs meeting his with rough snaps, “So fucking gorgeous,” he groans, leaning in to suck at your tits again, “I’ll never get sick of this view, need to fuck you like this again,” and he meets you with a brutal thrust of his hips as he grasps your waist that brushes against places you only could dream to touch, and he grins as your head lolls back, “there is it, just where I left it, Princess,” 
“S’close, ‘Toru, I can’t-“ you murmur, as he cups your cheek and presses a hot kiss to your lips. 
“Then cum for me on my dick like a good little slut, and scream for me, make sure my neighbors know how good this cock is,” and he’s grasping your waist, fucking tou hard as you cum around his cock, and you scream his name as you do, but he fucks you through your orgasm, grunting and groaning. Your release slips down his dick as you squeeze him, “good fucking girl,” He’s close too - his thrusts becoming deeper and sloppy, “where you want me to cum?” 
And your legs are wrapping around his waist, “Fill me, want it inside,” and Satoru can't help but moans your name. 
He's grunting, sloppily thrusting now -- he's so close, your walls clamping down again and again, “Want me to breed you, sweetheart,” he grunts, bottoming out, “then let me fill you, fuck-“ he moans as he cums, spurting his hot, thick cum inside your walls, and you’re nearly keening against him, but he holds you steady with his fingers against your hips, nails digging crescents into your skin, “gotta make every drop count, now don’t we, love?” As he slowly pumps into you, pushing it deeper, “now what’d people say when you get pregnant by your ex? Hm? Wanna baby trap me, princess? You don’t have to do that to get me to stay,” 
And he’s still inside you as he stills, cupping your chin, “I don’t huh?” You tilt your head, as he presses a kiss to your lips, “then why did you leave in the first place?” 
His grin twists into a frown, sighing, as he can't meet your gaze now, “Did you really want to be with me?” And you open your mouth, “being with me is as good as placing a target on your back, and I’m not always going to here to help-“ 
You glare at him, “I don’t need you to protect me—"
“Except the one time you do,” he says softly, “and then what? I could deal with losing you, but I don't ever want to have to mourn you," his words are quiet, "we’ve both lost too much-" and his voice wavers, “I didn’t want you to be another thing I lost, but you were anyway,” and he gives a small chuckle, “I didn’t wanna end up alone, but without you, I’m still alone,” he gives a pitiful smile, “fitting for the strongest, huh?” 
You hold his cheeks, forcing him to look at you, “You don’t have to be alone. I can’t make promises that I’ll be okay - that would be a pretty shit promise to make, we both know that, but,” you kiss his lips sweetly, the corners of his lips lifting at your taste, “I can promise I’ll do my best to live, I’ll do my best to support you, I’ll do my best to love you - if you can promise to do the same,”
And his lips crack into a grin, “Love, huh?” 
“You’ve grown on me,” you tease, but he can’t let that stand. And he shifts his hips, making you moan, as he lays you down, slipping out of you, to smear his cockhead down your folds, watching you convulse around nothing as his cum slips out of you, “Satoru—fuck-“ and his fingers are scooping the liquid back inside, pushing it back in, “what are you doing?” you grumble, half annoyed, half moaning. 
And he only smiles, “Gotta make up for lost time, don’t we princess?” And he leans over you, pressing a kiss to your lips, before reaching for his phone, “now let me take a picture — gotta let Nanami know someone appreciated my drawing.” 
“You send that picture, and we won’t need to worry about me surviving anymore, because I’ll have killed you,” and he rolls his eyes, snapping the picture anyway. 
“Don’t worry, I won’t send him this picture, that’s for my personal use,” he winks as he slips his fingers from you, licking your mixed releases from his digits, “but I’ll let him know how much you enjoyed it,” and he’s leaning over you again, “and how much you will again,” 
“And every night?” You smile up at him, pulling him closer. 
And he replies before you pull him into another kiss, “Only way to shut me up.” 
2K notes · View notes
norizz-nation · 11 days
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https://www.tumblr.com/pinkswaet/737600285580689408/if-you-take-requests-could-you-do-this-frat
This has been living in my head rent-free it’s one of my favorite Lando fics of all time. May I beg you to do something similar with Oscar 🥺 Pretty please 🥺
Love Wasn’t Enough | O.P81
Summary: Your lazy weekend isn’t really lazy anymore after you accidentally bump into your toxic ex at a party.
Warnings: nsfw, 18+, cock drunk reader, degradation, choking, slut shaming, dacryphilia
Just like always, you’re spending your weekend binge watching Brooklyn Nine Nine. The show you and Oscar used to watch together. But not anymore. Why? Because he’s just a narcissistic soul who never gave a fuck about you. Or anyone else. That’s the reason why you broke up with him.
But you still loved him. It’s not like you didn’t. Only a fool wouldn’t love Oscar Jack Piastri. But guessing love wasn’t enough to hold your relationship together.
You better get your ass ready in 30 mins. I’m coming to pick you up.
Your thoughts got distracted by the notification sound. You clearly can’t remember what the hell your friend is talking about.
For what???
The fucking party we decided to go to, remember?
Fuck. You forgot.
You didn’t even reply to her text since you got busy trying to figure out what to wear. Your closet looked like a fucking mess but you couldn’t care less.
After a good 20 minutes you finally got a red dress out, which was a bit too fancy and a bit too slutty. But fuck it. Who cares?
At least the person who would care isn’t here anymore.
-
“Well, don’t you look a bit too fancy?” Your friend asked in a taunting tone. You just rolled your eyes saying, “Who gives a fuck? I’m single now for fucks sake.” Your response made your friend giggle as you both made your way to the car.
-
As soon as you entered the house, you knew you made a wrong decision. It would’ve been better if you had stayed at home.
“Don’t you love it?” Your friend asked as you looked at her. “What?” You asked. You can’t even hear her because of how stupidly loud the music is. “Don't you love it here?” She practically screamed those words in your ear as you nodded and agreed with her.
But you were lying. This was really boring.
“Wait here, I’m gonna be right back, okay?” She said as you smiled at her and nodded.
-
“Oh look who’s here.” A familiar voice said as you turned around to look up at him. A cocky smile painted on his face.
Oh fuck.
“Missed me, huh?” He asked as he got a bit closer to you. Close enough for you to smell his cologne from his leather jacket. You took a step back and sighed, “I don’t fucking miss you.” You lied. Of course you miss him. Although you hated almost everything about him, you still loved him in a way you didn’t know you could.
Oscar smiled at you and scoffed a little as he asked, “Then why the fuck did you come crawling to me, huh?” His soft whisper was burning your skin. “I didn’t come crawling to you. I’m just here with my one friend. Just so then she doesn’t feel lonely.” You said in your defense. Oscar squinted his eyes and glanced around the room and looked at you again. “But I don’t see any of your little ‘friend’ here. Where are they sweetheart?” He asked as you took a deep breath and calmed yourself down, trying to figure out what to say or do.
You’re never talking to this bitch again.
“I uh… I don’t know. She must be somewhere around.” You managed to say something in your defense. Oscar just raised his eyebrows as if he knew you were lying to him.
Oscar just smirked at you as he got more close to you, whispering in your ear, “But I know that you missed me. Don’t you want a little treat for missing me so much?” The way his hand brushed your skin made you go crazy. But you’re still not sure if it’s a good idea or not. Well, it’s definitely not. He’s just a toxic ex who doesn’t deserve your love.
“I don’t miss you.” You lied. Again.
“Stop lying. You know you sound very pathetic when you can’t even lie properly.” He said as he brushed your hair away from your face.
-
Of course you were complaining about the ‘loud music’ in the house but do you even care about it now? No, you don’t.
You can’t even hear anything properly since all you can hear is Oscar breathing heavily in your ear. Every little groan makes you whine for more of him. More of his touch.
More more more…
“F-fuck, Oscar please, r-right there.” You pleaded as he kept on thrusting his dick inside of you from behind. Your knuckles turned white as you grabbed on the edge of the sink tightly. He then grabbed you by your neck and forced you to look at your own fucked out reflection on the mirror.
“Yeah? Right there? I know you missed how my cock filled your pathetic little cunt.” He said as you just nodded. Not being able to get a proper sentence out.
You winched in pain when his grip around your neck tightened, “Get some words out of this stupid little mouth.”
“Y-yes, yes I missed it s-so fucking much. Fuck I missed your cock so m-much ugh!” You let those words out, not even knowing what you just said. You’re too dumbfounded to even think.
“That’s right. I know you missed being fucked like a worthless little slut you are.” He whispered in your ear as you closed your eyes, chasing your orgasm. His warm breath on your neck was driving you insane.
Your mouth hung open when you felt his dick twitch inside of you. You knew what that meant.
He was about to pull out, to cum on your ass but you tugged on his T-shirt to stop him from pulling out. “No n-no, please. Cum inside of me. I want your cum, please.” You pleaded pathetically as he scoffed at you.
“Who knew that a worthless little girl would end up so much cock drunk for me, huh?” You whined at his words.
“Please…” You pleaded again. Just wanting more of him. Not caring about anything else. “Please, baby I want you to fill me up.” You whined, practically crying for it.
You bit on your lower lip when you felt his cum filling every inch of your wall. His groan echoed across the room.
“Fucking hell, I missed you.” He whispered, kissing your shoulder. His chest heaving up and down as he breathed heavily.
You let out a moan when you felt his fingers pushing his cum deeper inside of you. “Can’t let that go to waste, huh?” He said as he smirked at you.
You were about to say something but got cut off by a notification on your phone.
Wait, I just heard your toxic ex is here too. But, where are you?
A/N: @golden-flora my baby, hope you liked it. I almost killed myself while writing this. Just don’t hate me if it’s bad. Anyway, requests are open. So, feel free to ask what you want you want me to write. I love you. ❤️
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charmercharm3r · 11 months
Note
Not sure if you’re taking requests, but the THOUGHT of Jisung slowly fucking you while you’re trying to have a serious phone conversation with Chan or Minho has been sitting in my head rent free FOR DAYS🤦🏻‍♀️🥵
And everytime you try to cut the conversation short or hang up, Jisung threatens to stop altogether.
Stop it, I’m not okay😭😩
yum yum yummmm
Are You Done?
HJS
Masterlist
wc: 1.4k
-
You could hardly breathe, let alone speak into the phone laying on your chest. Minho was on speaker on the other end telling you about his upcoming schedule and how exhausted he was going to be by the end of it. Typical conversation, right?
Of course not when Jisung is your boyfriend and has an insatiable appetite for experimentation. Which is how he got you on your back, underwear discarded and him rubbing his cock back and forth against your clit. It took everything in you not to moan as he stared down at you with that hungry look in his eyes, waiting for you to break even just a little knowing his friend on the call would call you out the second something felt remotely off. 
Lip between your teeth, you bit back the bratty comment you so badly wanted to make at your boyfriend. Jisung just smiled and continued to press his tip into your bundle of nerves, dragging it so lazily that it felt like he was trying to get you to break on purpose. Granted, he was, but only because he knew you could take it.
Your head fell back as he hit a particular spot and you had to clap your hand over your mouth.
“Y/N? Are you even listening? I’m trying to confide in you and—“
“I— I’m listening, I promise. You just… caught me at a—“ Jisung prodded at your entrance with his fingers and stole your voice entirely. He urged you to continue, silently threatening to stop with his stare. “…bad time.”
“I don’t really care, I need your undivided attention. Whatever it is can wait. Me— your friend— is more important.”
“You’re right. Talk to me, I’m here.” Your boyfriend liked that answer, slipping his fingers out of your hole to bring them up to your lips. You took them in your mouth without hesitation and savored the taste on your tongue. Jisung enjoyed the view, his own tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth with a mischievous grin.
The man above you hiked your legs higher up his torso and teased your clit a few moments more before ridding himself of his shirt all together. The plain of his abs taking over your line of sight, you couldn’t help reaching up to touch and let your fingers trace the lines across it.
“I just wanna dance. That’s what I signed up for. I have so many covers recorded and none of them—“
Jisung thought it was a great time to prod at your entrance with his thick tip, you bit down on his fingers to suppress another moan.
“—have even been in the talks of seeing the light of day. It’s frustrating.”
“Have you—“ your voice was muffled by your boyfriend’s digits, popping them out for a moment to speak, “—spoken to the company?”
“Of course I have! They always say it’s never the right time.”
He pushed into you, languid and unrushed, letting your walls adjust to the intrusion with every millimeter he sunk deeper. Your mouth dropped into an ‘O’ shape and raked your claws down his abdomen. Jisung chuckled quietly until he came to the hilt. When your eyes rolled back and shut, Jisung squeezed your cheeks to pucker your lips and forced your concentration back to the conversation.
You felt so full and on the verge of vibrating out of your skin but found the strength to speak. “What about that— mmph— that messaging thing?” Jisung’s thumb found your clit again and circled it ever so lightly, hardly thrusting in and out. The sounds were wet and on the louder side, you wondered if Minho could hear it.
“Bubble? What, send dance videos there? It’s a paid platform, not everyone will get to see it.”
For a second you sobered up of the premature excitement, “idiot, you think the stuff you send there isn’t shared? It’ll get out even if you ask not to.”
Your boyfriend nodded along with your answer, agreeing. But then his thrusts picked up just a little, pulling out further to plunge back into the sweet spot he knew just how to hit. The light pressure to your nerves was driving you insane, almost as much as this conversation was.
Minho was silent for a second, but Jisung didn’t stop moving. “What are you doing?” The man on the phone suddenly asked.
You panicked and it made Jisung push in incredibly deep, “e— eating. I’m eating.”
“…Okaaaay… Still, I want it official, y’know? Like on our YouTube and stuff.”
It felt like Jisung wasn’t even moving but the constant stimulation told you that wasn’t the case. His own head tipped back and he let out a long, deep sigh, then gripped onto your hip with his free hand hard enough to bruise. He settled more comfortably on he knees to fuck up into you while switching to opt for shorter and repetitive thrusts. The pressure in your belly was rising higher as he continued to hit your soft spot. “What if you just– f– posted it yourself?” Jisung smirked and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“Are you on a treadmill or something? Why do you sound out of breath?”
Your boyfriend leaned down and kissed up the valley of your chest, lightly teething at your skin. A hand came to tangle in his hair instead of keeping the conversation going and he shot a look up at you through his lashes. “The walk to the sink is far. Guess I should exercise more.” Jisung winked and kept going, doing a number on your clit that made your skin burn delightfully.
“Come with me and Jisung next time, maybe it’ll get him to stop complaining about how much he misses you. Anyways, back to me.” You held back a laugh that in turn made your boyfriend giggle as well, rumbling chest to chest. Walls clenching tighter around him, when he started to push harder into your clit you knew he was trying to get you along. You dug your heels into his back and pulled him flush against you. “Should I just make my own YouTube account? Just for dance videos? No, I’d get kicked out for that. What if I…”
Minho continued to speak without giving you a chance to intervene, not that you minded in the slightest. Jisung took advantage of it and rubbed just the way he knew to get you to cum around him, and it was working. Your friend on the phone was clueless and it made the both of you all the more aroused knowing you were going to get away with it. In a way, it was a proud feeling, something of a cross between accomplished and erotic with how simple this one inclusion in the bedroom was. You felt the knot tightening in your belly much tighter than usual and every nerve in your body tingled as you gripped onto Jisung’s hair for support. His face was right next to your phone on your chest, still urging you to pay attention to Minho. But it was getting harder to do so when your boyfriend was being so relentless.
Perhaps forgiveness would be a small price to pay for such a wonderful high that was just within reach. You could no longer hear what Minho was saying, just that he was speaking. All of your concentration went to keeping quiet and you couldn’t even do that anymore. The grip your teeth had on your bottom lip was on the verge of drawing blood, rutting your hips up in time with Jisung’s for maximum feeling. And that just about did it, a good nudge of his thumb at the same time as he prodded at your sweet spot and the sensation took over your body to lock him against your chest and buried within you. By the time the feeling passed, Jisung had left more than one obvious mark across your skin that was deepening with every second.
“Are you done?” Minho’s voice snapped you out of your glowy haze.
“Hm? Done with what?” Airy tone and a smile on your face, you felt Jisung kissing up your neck as the phone fell to the side of your head.
“Getting dicked down. I have real issues that require your help, and your boyfriend’s. Hi, Jisung.”
The two of you giggled, embarrassed but not nearly as much as you should have been. Jisung greeted his friend, then stole the phone to mute it for a moment. He leaned into menacingly whisper, “I didn’t finish, baby. Don’t think we’re done quite yet.”
-
tags:
@sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers100 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @leebitsimpracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @kaitchan @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny
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lady-phasma · 1 month
Text
Don't look away
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x F!Reader
Stand alone, cross posted on AO3, app 2,800 words
Warning: 18+, NSFW, others I should add but it's Feyd
Summary: Feyd lives rent free in my head now. I’m working on an unrelated piece with an ofc but I wanted to share a pwp because this man is essentially walking and talking sex. Enjoy. Please ignore typos. This was a rush job LoL
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my gif
You hold your breath as Feyd-Rautha circles you, appraising. His head is tilted down and he looks at you from under his brows. Your chest is tight. He is almost exactly what you expected after watching him in the arena. Yet, not quite. He steps in front of you.
“She’s acceptable,” he says to the Reverend Mother without looking away from you. You begin to slowly exhale. His eyes slide down to your parted lips. He slowly licks his.
“Leave us,” he growls and the Reverend Mother, the younger Bene Gesserit sister, and his Harpies slip out of the room. You glance over your shoulder as the door slides closed behind them.
“No,” he whispers as he turns your head back toward him, guiding you with his hand on your chin. His blue eyes flick from your eyes to your mouth then back again. As he smiles, you see the tips of his blackened teeth for the first time and catch yourself staring.
“‘No’, my lord na-Baron?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He is standing close enough to hear you regardless. He nods once and drops his hand from your chin, grazing the backs of his fingers down your neck. He impertinently flicks the hood of your cloak off your head before dropping his hand to his side.
“You won’t look away from me. You will watch everything I do. No looking away, no closing your eyes.”
You swallow and attempt to nod but you feel like you cannot move. You want to move. You almost want to run for the door but you can imagine Feyd blocking your path with speed and stealth. You look at his mouth again, the lips curling, black teeth catching the light, and his tongue…
Feyd’s grip on your upper arm snaps your attention back. He undoes the clasp at your neck and slips the cloak off your shoulders, tossing it on the floor. You feel the goosebumps spread up your arms as the cool air of the room hits them. You are suddenly aware of the low neckline of your dress as you inhale. Your cleavage swells and you feel exposed, like prey out of cover.
He licks his lips, slowly. You fight conflicting urges to stare and to look away. You let your gaze travel up to his eyes. He isn’t looking at your face. He is stalking around you again, this time stoping behind you.
His hands are cool on your upper back and you shiver. Feyd makes a sound in response, a satisfied groan that is so low that you think you may have not heard it at all. His hands slip under your dress and are no longer gentle. He rips your dress down the back along the seam. He slings the shoulders of the dress down and you feel him step closer.
Feyd licks your neck, slowly, from the top of your shoulder to your ear. You bite the tip of your tongue to hold back a moan. You don’t want to like this, you don’t want to want him, but your nipples are hard and your body is a furnace.
“Let it out,” he growls in your ear, lips brushing against the lobe. “I want to hear you.”
You do. The sound comes out as a sigh and a moan. His reaction adds fuel to the fire in your core. Feyd growls next to your ear. His exhale tickles your cheek and you shiver again. Then you feel the fabric of his shirt press against your exposed back. Longing rolls over you as you realize you don’t want his shirt against your skin. You let the smallest groan escape your lips, a whining sound.
Feyd leans down and drags his lips over your shoulder. You almost relax into the feeling until you feel the pain as he bites down into the muscle. You gasp. It surprises you more than it hurts you. He releases his hold on you but his mouth stays against your skin.
Almost as unexpected as the bite, you feel the weight of his smooth head rest against your neck. He leans his weight in the crook of your neck and sighs. His hot breath makes you ache. His teeth are still grazing your shoulder. You want to relax into this feeling but he is too unpredictable.
Your mind races in an attempt to understand this man, to glean some insight. His sighs and groans make your core hot and tight. But the press of his teeth against your skin conflict with the gentleness of the press of his head against you. You can’t sort your thoughts and you can’t focus.
Suddenly, Feyd grunts and pushes away from you. Before you can decide to turn to look at him, he pulls your dress all the way off your arms and pushes it down your hips, leaving it in a puddle around your feet. You can’t think straight. You instinctively cross your arms over your breasts but it’s a fruitless action. He is behind you and you cannot cover the lower half of your body. You aren’t sure but you think the whimper you make is too quiet for him to hear.
“Stay,” Feyd growls. You do. You don’t move. You stare straight ahead at the wall opposite you and focus all your attention on listening, trying to decode the sounds Feyd is making behind you.
You hear cloth moving, one light thud, followed by another, then more cloth. Then you hear what is unmistakably bare feet on the stone floor. Then you feel him, not pressed against you (yet), but just behind you. He is still taller than you and though you cannot see him he feels like a monolith, looming and intimidating.
Feyd doesn’t speak as he runs his hands over your shoulders and down your biceps. He presses your arms against your sides and you acquiesce. Then his large hands cup your breasts as he steps forward into you, pressing the length of your bodies together. You feel lightheaded and sag slightly against him.
“Yes,” he hisses and somehow you can hear the smile in his voice. “Yes, my pet, that’s it.” His hands slide down the rises and hollows of your belly and hips. There is too much stimulus for you to focus on any one thing. The cool heat of his palms against your skin, the silkiness of his chest against your back, and the press of his erection against the curve of your buttocks.
This bliss is fleeting and you remind yourself of who he is, what you have seen him do. But the images of the arena can’t push the feeling of him on your skin out of your mind. You are almost powerless in his hands.
He guides you to turn and face him. You look up at him and involuntarily lick and bite your lower lip. For the first time you see hunger in his eyes. His head dips down and you fight the instinct to close your eyes as his lips press against yours. Not until you see his eyes close do you do the same. His mouth is bittersweet and gentle at first. Then his teeth nip and pull at your lip, his tongue pushes into your mouth, and he growls. You can’t stop yourself from pressing against his chest. Your hands find his arms as you try to get closer to him. As you pull him toward you the taste of blood crosses your tongue.
Feyd pulls his mouth back and you open your eyes immediately. The red on his lower lip is a stark line against the white skin. He slowly drags his finger across it. He gazes at the red on his fingertip as if he has never seen anything so entrancing before. Then he presses his finger against your lip and you pull the tip into your mouth. He moves before you can understand what is happening. His hand is in your hair, wrenching your head back. His other arm encircles your waste and he looks down at you, black teeth glinting in the pale light of the room.
His sneer is terrifying. Your fingernails dig into the flesh of his arms as you grip him. You don’t push him away; you can’t move. His eyes dart around your face searching for something. For defiance? He finds none and his mouth crashes against yours in a rough kiss that is mostly teeth and breath.
Something inside you gives way and you claw desperately at his arms. You kiss him back, finding his tongue with yours, inviting him into your mouth. His body is warm stone in your arms. You search for purchase, some place to anchor yourself, his chest, his arms, his neck. Then you push your hips forward, almost without thinking. His cock presses against your belly and he growls again. That sound draws wetness from between your legs and you moan back into his mouth. His hand begins to loosen its grip on your hair and you feel him smile against your lips. When you look at him you see it isn’t a kind smile.
“So that’s what you want, pet?” His smile is mocking, almost cruel. His voice is low and deep. His hand slides out of your hair to the side of your face. He caresses your cheek with his palm and rubs his thumb across your lips, lulling you with his touch.
“You want me to fuck you now?” Your response is the most undignified whimper. You are surprised by the desperation in the sound. As he straightens up to his full height you immediately miss the feeling of his skin. His smile softens briefly. Then he grips the back of your neck, hard, and walks you to the bed. Your heart pounds and you fear you won’t be able to keep your feet. If you trip you have no doubt he will drag you.
You look away from him, glance at the bed. He catches you and turns you to face him as you make the last few steps to the bed. It presses against the backs of your knees and you nearly fall. Feyd doesn’t let you. A brief flicker of understanding dawns on you: he doesn’t want anything to hurt you, only he can do that. It’s a perverse comfort, but his control is seductive. You don’t let yourself think “protective” but that’s the closest word. Then all words leave your mind as he lets go of you and you sink back into the bed.
Feyd kneels on the bed, spreading your legs with his knees. He isn’t gentle but his touch is soft. Every part of his hairless body is smooth and cool and graceful. His giant arms frame your field of vision as he props himself above you. His lower lip glistens and you want to risk defiance. You press yourself up to meet his mouth, to suck at that lip, bite and tease.
His reaction is quick. His hand presses you back onto the bed, wrapping almost entirely around your neck. You lick your lips and sneer up at him. His eyes flash with understanding. He grins. Using his hand on your neck and his legs to hold his weight he slips a hand between you and finds your slick center. He trails his fingers through your wetness and your last vestige of pride falls away. You actually whine as you raise your hips to find more of his fingers. He obliges for a moment and lets you press against them. Then he pulls his hand away.
The pressure on your neck is not yet uncomfortable. You let out panting breaths. Your mouth hangs open, eyes locked with his. Before you realize his hand is gone from your neck, you feel his wet fingers in your mouth and taste yourself. Without needing to be told you suck gently on them. You watch his face soften with pleasure. Barely opening his eyes, Feyd slides his fingers from your mouth, down your body, and under your thigh. He guides your leg onto his hip. As he leans his weight onto his other arm he guides his cock into your slick folds. You hold your breath. You don’t stop watching him and he notices. He looks at you, lewdly, as he strokes himself through your dripping cunt. You feel yourself blush, a bit too late for embarrassment, but there it is anyway. He groans as he presses the tip of his cock against your opening.
“Please, Feyd,” you groan. “Oh please.” His eyes widen at your words, at the sound of his name.
“Beg for my cock, pet. Tell me how much you need it,” he commands, his face only inches above yours.
“I need it so badly it hurts, na-Baron,” you watch for his reaction to the use of his title and you aren’t disappointed. “I need to feel you. Please.”
Feyd groans and his head dips lower, almost resting his forehead on yours as he begins to slide into you. The feeling is intense as he stretches you. You open your legs a bit wider, sliding your foot up the curve of his ass to his lower back. He presses deeper, harder, and you exhale his name. You don’t dare close your eyes yet but his are closed tight and his brow is furrowed. You gingerly slide your hands over his head and grip the back of his neck. You pull him to you slightly, giving him permission to rest his head against your neck. He rubs his head against you like a cat and you smile to yourself as you close your eyes.
Feyd’s hips press into yours, spreading you wide as he buries his face against you. He pulls out slowly and slides back in, so you can feel every inch of him. His free hand searches up your side to your breast and squeezes. His thumb grazes your nipple as he starts to pump into you. You gasp as he pinches your nipple, twists it slightly. You moan and press your lips against the smooth skin of his head.
“You take me so well,” Feyd mutters into your chest. “Such a good girl taking all of me.” The gravel in his voice makes you shiver and mewl. On his next stroke in, you slip your other leg over his hip and circle your legs around his waist. You pull him into you, as far as you can take him, the head of his cock pressing against your deepest core. He makes the most satisfied sound imaginable. You feel his lips, then his teeth against your collarbone. Your grip on his neck tightens as he slides out of you and rams back in, hard and quick.
With the next stroke, Feyd raises his head to look at you. You let your hands slide to his shoulders, still holding tight. There is no softness on his face now. His lust-blown pupils have swallowed the blue of his eyes and his brow is furrowed as he focuses on fucking you. He squeezes your breast quickly then moves his hand to your hair. He holds your head still and leans down to kiss you when he thrusts. You dig your fingernails into his skin and groan.
His control starts to falter and he exhales into your mouth. His hand in your hair gripping tighter as his strokes shorten and his pace quickens. You slide your hand down from his shoulder to touch yourself. His facial expression changes momentarily as he feels you grip tighter around his cock. You grin up at him.
“I need it, Feyd,” you whisper, holding his eye contact. You wait a beat and arch your back as your fingers and his cock bring you closer to your climax. “I need to feel you cum.” You groan. The wave of your pleasure begins to crest, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. Then you feel his teeth clamp down on the flesh above your clavicle. Your orgasm overtakes you as the sharp sensation clashes with the low, throbbing pleasure between your legs. You murmur his name through clenched teeth.
Feyd pushes through your spasms around his cock. Growling and grunting but not releasing you from his bite. He fucks you through your orgasm. His rhythm stutters and his grip loosens. He lifts his head, a string of spit pulled from his bottom lip. He grabs your head with both his hands and, panting just above your mouth, he cums. The heat fills you and you moan his name again. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours as he presses into you one last time.
Then he stills, his forearms holding him up, but lets some of his weight press you together so he is almost lying on top of you, not pulling out yet. He exhales deeply and raises his head. He looks down at you.
You can’t catch your breath and your legs are heavy. You let them slide down his hips. Your neck throbs where his teeth marked you. You want to wrap your arms around him, pull him into you, stroking and soothing this wild animal. Instead, you grab the back of his head and pull him down to your mouth and kiss him until you taste red.
613 notes · View notes
daisynik7 · 5 months
Text
Cure for a Hangover
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Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~3.9k
cw: next-door neighbor Kishibe, age gap (I’m thinking at least fifteen years, Kishibe pushing mid-forties, reader is in her late 20s/early 30s), alcohol consumption, p*rn no plot, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), blowjob, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play, pet names (sweetheart, angel, kiddo)
Summary: Kishibe is your mysterious, brooding, and significantly older next-door neighbor. You’ve lived beside him for a while now, only exchanging basic pleasantries out of politeness, never anything more. One night, he comes home drunk, or so he thinks. It’s not his door he’s slumped again; it’s yours.
Author’s Notes: It’s been a minute since I wrote for Kishibe and I really do miss it. This old man continues to do wonders to me, so I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks! MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
Taglist: @batafuraikisu @neverlandlostchild @bloompompom @dprkento @a-listaire @man-knees @demonwoman (bc Kishibe using kiddo as a pet name is living in my head rent free thanks to you)
part 3 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series
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It’s not often that you’re met with a man slumped against your door, but here you are, staring down at your next-door neighbor, Kishibe, doing just that. 
It’s past two in the morning now, and you’ve just come back from your own night out with your friends. You’re not nearly as drunk as you were three hours ago, after pounding glasses of Chardonnay while watching cheesy romance movies at your best friend’s apartment. And you’re certainly not as inebriated as the man before you, who absolutely reeks of liquor, even from a small distance away. 
You inspect the scene thoroughly, unsure what to do in this scenario. Kishibe is basically a stranger to you. Sure, you’ve exchanged basic pleasantries here and there over that past year since you moved in. That’s as far as it goes. You have no idea what his profession is, though you have a solid guess as to what it could be, given his work attire and overall physique. While you’ve never run into one yourself, devils run rampart in Tokyo, hell-bent on causing chaos wherever they spawn. Kishibe looks like a Devil Hunter, whose job is to eliminate these monsters. It’s intriguing, that’s for sure, but you’ve never mustered the courage to ask him about it, leaving him to maintain his mysterious demeanor. 
However, right now, you don’t see a Devil Hunter in front of you. Instead, it’s a simple man who is very drunk and very much in your way.
Deciding to help him, because that’s the only choice you have if you want to get into your apartment, you kneel down to search his overcoat, patting the breast pocket for keys. When you find nothing, you move to his pants, retrieving only his phone. His eyes are closed and he’s snoring, blissfully unaware of your predicament in his drunken stupor. You take this time to study his face. He’s looks much older up close; not only that, he’s even more handsome than you originally thought. There’s a prominent scar running from his mouth to his jaw, surely an interesting story behind it. You’re tempted to trace it delicately with your finger, but you ultimately resist the urge, snapping out of it to investigate his phone for any clues. 
There are several missed calls and texts from a person named Kenji. You use the Face ID feature to unlock his phone, thanking the universe that even with his eyes shuts, it works. Not wanting to pry more than necessary, you check the most recent texts for the answer to your question: Where the hell are his keys?
Kenji: you left your keys at the bar, come back now. I’m closing up soon
Kenji: I’m not waiting for your ass
Kenji: I’m leaving, get them tomorrow
You read over the messages once more, groaning quietly to yourself at your dumb luck. Desperate now, you resort to the next logical step.
“Hey,” you say, tapping him lightly on the cheek, rousing him awake. “Kishibe.”
Slowly, but surely, he opens his eyes, half-lidded, struggling to focus on you. “Huh?” His breath is heavy with liquor, most likely whiskey. His voice is deep and gravelly, and you hate admitting that’s it’s almost sexy. Well, not almost. It is sexy. 
Letting the inappropriate thought fade, you say, “You’re at the wrong apartment. This is mine.”
He blinks three times, opening his eyes properly to stare at you, expression confused. “Am I dead?”
You bite your lip, holding back laughter. “No, you’re not.”
“Am I in heaven?”
You shake your head, repeating, “No, you’re not.”
“Then why is there any angel here with me?” He sounds sincere, and you can’t help but break out into a genuine smile. 
“I’m not an angel,” you reply, giggling. 
His lips curve into a cocky grin. “You sure? You look like one to me.” Cheeky bastard, hitting on you while he’s plastered. And look at you, finding it endearing when he does. 
Slightly more relaxed, you slide the phone into his breast pocket, standing up to unlock your door. You can’t just leave him out here all night, so you decide to let him stay with you until he’s sober enough to call a locksmith. You jiggle the keys, turning the knob to open the door, and suddenly, there’s a loud thud, and then a delayed, “Ow.” He’s laid flat in the middle of your doorway, hitting his head on the hardwood. You feel guilty, not having the foresight to see this coming. His body is much sturdier than you anticipated. 
You kneel down, apologizing. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
He winces, rubbing the back of his skull, then gives you a goofy smile. “I’ll be fine. Think I can get a kiss to make it feel better?”
You roll your eyes at him, once again unable to contain your laughter. “I’ll get you some ice. Let’s get you to the couch first, okay?”
Somehow, some way, whether it’s spurred by adrenaline or desperation to finally get some sleep in your own bed, you manage to haul him up by the armpits and drag him the short distance to your couch. You fluff a pillow and place it under his head, making it as comfortable as possible for him. “I’ll get the ice now.”
Before you can stand up, he grabs your wrist, gripping you tightly. “What about my kiss?”
“Nope. Not happening. I bet you don’t even know my name,” you challenge him.
He doesn’t respond, loosening his hold so you can get up. You fill a plastic bag with ice, returning to surround the back of his head with it. Eventually, he utters your name, eyes closed while he relaxes to your touch. He peeks at you with one eye open, waiting for you to confirm. 
You nod, grinning. “So, you do know my name.”
“Can I get my kiss now?” he teases, gazing at you.
You shake your head. “Definitely not. I will not take advantage of a drunk person, that’s fucked up.”
He sighs, exhaling deeply, broad chest rising and falling. “Yeah, you’re right. I knew you were a good girl.”
You try not to hang on to those words, especially the last two, already fluttering below your belly over it. Grabbing his hand to replace yours, you instruct him to keep it there while you return to the kitchen to pour him a large glass of water. Within the short amount of time you’re gone, he falls asleep, his hand barely holding onto to the ice pack. 
You smile to yourself, setting the glass of water down on the coffee table to continue attending to his minor injury. After a while, when you notice that there isn’t any bump or swelling developing, you stop icing him. He snores peacefully in a deep sleep, no sign of waking up anytime soon. As gingerly as you can, you remove his overcoat, draping it over the back of the couch. You set his phone next to the glass of water, for easy access. His tie looks tight around his collar, so you loosen it. Finally, you remove his shoes from his feet, laying them by the front door near your own pair. You’re certain he’ll wake up in the morning, feeling like shit, so you place a bottle of painkillers by his phone in case he needs them. 
It's past three now by the time you’re dressed down in your pajamas and snuggled in bed. You keep the door ajar, listening to Kishibe’s steady breathing in the living room, treating it like white noise to help you fall fast asleep. 
~~~
Kishibe wakes up with his head throbbing. He stares up at the ceiling, not recognizing it as his own. It doesn’t take long for him to realize that this isn’t his apartment. 
He turns, seeing his phone, a glass of water, and a bottle of painkillers on the coffee table arm’s reach of him. Slowly, he sits up, grimacing from the pain, downing all the water in three large gulps. He checks his phone, thankfully still on its last leg of battery. It’s almost eleven on a Saturday morning and he’s sure Kenji, his bartender friend, is already awake, preparing for the day. 
“Kenji,” he mutters, throat hoarse from last night’s festivities. 
His friend first berates him for forgetting his keys, then laughs when Kishibe explains that somehow, some way, he managed to fall asleep on someone else’s couch. He could have woken up in worst conditions, that’s for sure. 
Kenji agrees to stop by after running his errands, in about two hours or so. Beggars can’t be choosers, so Kishibe has no choice but to wait. When they’re phone conversation is over, he sinks back into the cushions, trying to piece everything together from just a few hours ago. He recalls snippets of it, and he grows increasingly embarrassed as the memories play vividly in his brain. He’s certain he called his neighbor an angel, and even more sure that he was begging her for a kiss. How shit-faced was he to compel him to do that? Obviously, very. How could he let his intrusive thoughts blurt out of his mouth like that?
Call it cliché or whatever, but yes, Kishibe is attracted his young, pretty neighbor next door. However, he’s held off on making a move because he doesn’t want to make things between them awkward. Once he crosses that line, their relationship gets more complicated. And the devil knows that Kishibe doesn’t do complicated. So, he’s content with gazing from afar, exchanging basic small talk with one another whenever they pass each other in the hallway. That’s as far as it’s gone with her, and that’s as far as it will go. 
Of course, that’s all fucked up now thanks to his drunken antics from last night. 
Before he can make his move, he hears a bedroom door creak open from behind him. She comes out, looking fresh out of the shower, dressed in skimpy pajama bottoms that are short enough to expose that tantalizing curve right below her ass. Surely, she’s doing this on purpose, right? She has to know how fucking sexy she looks right now, there’s no way she doesn’t. 
He clears his throat, preparing to explain himself right off the bat to avoid an awkward confrontation. But he’s rendered momentarily speechless when she flashes a bright smile at him. “Morning, Kishibe.”
He huffs out a short laugh. “Morning.”
She steps towards him, sitting at the opposite end of the couch by his feet. Her shorts ride up and he’s sure he can see the lacey outline of her panties. Or maybe it’s just his perverse imagination, who knows at this point. “How are you feeling?” she asks, genuinely concerned.
He grunts. “Like shit,” he answers. “But it could be worse.”
“That’s the spirit,” she teases, patting his knee. 
His head pounds from his hangover, though it’s his heartbeat that thumps loudly against his eardrums, aroused by her touch. He has got to control himself. Doing his best to distract her from the raging boner growing beneath his slacks, he asks, “What happened last night?”
She explains her account of the evening in detail, her voice soft and soothing, cautious of his current headache. She leaves out the parts where he embarrasses himself, which he’s grateful for, not wanting to relive the humiliation. When she’s done, she offers, “If you want, you can take a shower while you wait for your friend to arrive. I can get you some towels. I even have a toothbrush you can use.”
He raises a brow at her. “Are you trying to tell me I stink?”
“Do you need someone to tell you that you stink? I thought it was pretty obvious given the state you’re in,” she quips, matching his expression.
He laughs, genuinely amused by her response. “Yeah, can’t argue with that.”
She leads him into her bathroom, showing him how to work the knob for hot water, pointing out the shampoo, conditioner, and soap kept neatly on a corner shelf of her bathtub. She lingers for a bit while he starts the shower, then hands him a clean towel and new toothbrush. “Let me know if you need anything.” 
Surprisingly, he makes it through his shower without succumbing to the temptation to touch himself. As degenerate as he can be, he still has some sense of respect and pride in him, enough to resist masturbating in his neighbor’s shower. He does, however, give her shampoo and conditioner bottles an extra-long sniff.
He dries off, scrubbing his hair with the towel, cleaning behind his ears with cotton swabs, checking his piercings. Towel wrapped around his waist, he brushes his teeth, making sure to go the full two minutes, scrubbing his tongue after. He hasn’t made the best impression so far, so he figures he should try to change that now, if there’s still a chance. Feeling fresh and clean, he stares down at his clothes in a pile on the floor. Even from where he stands, he can smell them, almost like they’ve been diluted in liquor and musk. Without thinking, he steps out of the bathroom, calling out her name. “Got any clothes I could borrow?”
She’s in the kitchen when he comes out, leaning over the stove as she cooks something that smells wonderful. She turns to face him, staring wide-eyed as he stands almost naked in the middle of her living room. Her gaze drifts down his bare body, lingering on his sculpted abs, then at the towel wrapped precariously around his waist. She snaps out of it in time, saying, “I don’t. Sorry.”
“My clothes fucking stink and I don’t want to wear them right now. Mind if I just walk around like this?” 
“Sure. I mean, I don’t mind.” She focuses her attention back to the pan, continuing to cook what looks like scrambled eggs. 
He knows this is a bizarre request, though this day couldn’t get any more bizarre than it already is, can it?
~~~
You’re not exactly sure how to refuse Kishibe’s request to walk around half naked in your apartment, so instead, you agree to it, claiming that you don’t mind. In actuality, you mind very much, simply because you can’t help but fantasize about the delicious sight beneath the towel. One wrong move like a bump to the hip is all it takes to see that pesky cover fall down. Geez, when did you become such a pervert? And for an old man?!
Desperate for a distraction, you maintain focus on the eggs in front of you. While he was in the shower, you decided to start breakfast, something hearty to combat that hangover of his. Scrambled eggs, toast, and sausage, comforting foods to soak up the remaining alcohol left in his body. He makes his way towards you, scooting a chair out from the table to take a seat. He strategically maneuvers himself to not accidentally expose you, though you really don’t mind if he does. Again, perverted thoughts, shame on you!
Finished cooking, you scoop the eggs out onto his plate and the other meant for you. He thanks you, taking a whiff of his breakfast, a small smile on his face. “Smells good.”
You pass him another glass of liquid, this one filled with an electrolyte drink meant for hydration after a night of drinking. “Drink this. It’ll help with your hangover.”
He eyes it suspiciously, then takes a gulp without questioning it further. 
The two of you eat in a comfortable silence, ignoring the obvious tension hanging in the air. From your peripheral, you notice the glint of steel hooked to his ear lobe. Piercings, which you never noticed before. Sexy.
He ends up finishing his entire meal, popping a few painkillers to chase it all down. He even chugs the electrolyte drink, claiming it isn’t so bad. While you take the last few bites of your toast, he excuses himself to brush his teeth again. You’re surprised at how hygienic he is, considering how he appeared before you just mere hours ago, hunched against your front door covered in his own liquor-soaked sweat. You take the plates, stacking them in the sink to wash for later. How much longer is his friend going to take to arrive here? You’re getting nervous, thinking of other ways to fill this gap of time without making your attraction to him so obvious. 
You sit on the couch, turning the TV on to a random sitcom with the volume low, listening to the rush of water from the faucet inside the bathroom. When it stops, you try to find a comfortable position to sit in. It’s only now that you realize how short your pajama bottoms are; they ride all the way up your thighs and you can practically see your underwear through them. It’s too late to change when Kishibe returns, still clad in just a towel, taking a seat on the other side of the couch a safe distance beside you. It’s silent for a brief moment, neither of you knowing what to say in this odd situation. You shift nervously, tugging at the hem of your shorts. 
“Thank you,” he starts, avoiding your gaze, staring ahead at the television. “For taking care of me. Must have been annoying to deal with a drunken old man.”
You smile, relaxing. “It wasn’t so bad. Besides, I couldn’t just leave you out there like that. Someone could have taken advantage of you.”
“Like you almost did?” he smirks, facing you now.
Laughing, you meet his gaze. “You remember that?”
“I do.” He spreads his legs apart just barely, towel draped dangerously over his knee, almost ready to slip.
You swallow hard, avoiding a glance in that direction, heat surrounding your cheeks. “Well, I was a good girl, remember? I didn’t do anything.”
He hums, nodding slowly, eyes drilling into yours. “You were a very good girl.”
Your breath hitches and you find yourself gravitating towards him, scooting closer. He grins, the scar on his cheek curving with it, voice low and seductive. “You gonna be bad for me now?”
“Only if you want me to,” you purr, sliding your hand beneath the towel, up his thigh, arousal pooling between your legs. Fuck it. He wants it, you want it. There’s no denying it anymore. 
“Fuck,” he swears under his breath, pulling you in for a kiss. His mouth is cool and minty against yours, the remnants of toothpaste lingering in his spit. You slurp it up, hungry for any taste of him. He removes the towel from his waist, shrugging it to the floor, leaving him completely naked. You glance at his lap and bite back a moan, amazed at how fucking big he is, way too eager to have him inside you, desperate to be filled to the brim.
“Not bad for an old man, huh?” he chuckles, wrapping his fist around the shaft, stroking it.
“Not bad at all,” you smile, stripping out of your clothes hastily, kneeling between his legs with your mouth open.
He feeds you his cock, humming when you surround him in your wet heat, swallowing him to the hilt. One hand grips the back of your head, guiding you gently up and down his shaft. “You’re filthy, taking your neighbor’s cock like this. Who knew you’d be such a slut?” he mutters, caressing the side of your face with his other hand. “Touch yourself while I fuck this filthy mouth. Get that pretty pussy wet for me.”
You obey, spurred on by his vulgarity, reaching for your arousal, rubbing your throbbing clit with fast fingers. His cock hits the back of your throat and you guzzle him down to resist gagging, drool leaking from the sides of your lips. He moans, bucking his hips slightly, enraptured by you. With his thumb, he brushes away a tear welling at the corner of your eye, pulling out halfway. “Don’t hurt yourself, kiddo. It’s okay if I’m too much for you.”
You release him completely, moving down to his balls, nuzzling your nose to them. “I can take it, don’t worry.”
He clicks his teeth, beckoning you on the couch, almost like you’re being scolded for something you weren’t supposed to do. You roll your eyes, sitting beside him begrudgingly. He leans close to you, hot on your ear, one hand sliding between your legs while the other continues to stroke his dick. “I want to touch you too. That okay?”
You whine in response, tugging him in for a passionate kiss. He massages deep circles around your clit, fingers squelching from your slick gathering along your entrance. “I want a taste,” he growls, splitting apart your thighs, staring at your glistening cunt. 
You nod, sinking into the couch, relinquishing all control to him. You let your pleasured moans speak for you as he dives into your pussy, eating you out sloppily. His facial hair grazes against you with each careful stroke of his tongue and you ache to see his chin shiny with your cum. Eventually, he slips inside you, pumping two digits in and out, mouth still working your bud. Soon, it becomes too much and you’re gushing for him, whimpering his name with ragged breaths, soaking his face in your essence. 
He chuckles, the vibrations resonating to your clit, causing you to twitch with overstimulation. “That’s my girl, making such a mess for me.”
“Fuck me, Kishibe,” you breathe out, craving to be stuffed full of him. You’re reeling from your high, and if he’s not inside you soon, you’re sure you’ll go insane.
He hoists you up onto his lap, precum oozing from the tip of his dick. “How about you fuck me? Show me how much of a slut you are.”
Too fucked out to argue, you lift up on your knees, position him to your wet hole, sinking down slowly. He slides in easily, pussy sleek from your previous orgasm. It’s better than you imagined, every inch of him stimulating every inch of you. You savor it, rocking against him slowly. He kisses along on your neck, trailing to your nipples to suckle on them. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he moans, thrusting up into you to match your rhythm. “Take this cock however you like. It’s all yours.”
You bounce on him faster, whimpering into his mouth as you kiss him. He palms your ass cheeks, squeezing them in his firm grip, delivering a few loud smacks that echo off the walls of your living room, stinging your skin. “Fuck, I knew you were a good girl. Knew it the moment I met you,” he growls, pressing his thumb to your swollen clit. “Always wanted you like this.”
You kiss him harder at his confession, your chest swelling, pussy fluttering. You’re approaching another climax, teetering on the edge. As if he senses it, he tightens his hold on you, fucking into you faster, deeper. “Come for me, angel. Come on this cock.”
And you do, clenching him with your orgasm, making him mutter, “Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming with you.” He shoots his load inside you, filling you up, just like you wanted. 
It takes a moment for the two of you to catch your breaths, relaxing into each other’s arms, exchanging soft kisses without speaking. You study his face again, similar to how you did just several hours before, when he was slumped against your door, drunk. You thought he was handsome then, even more so now. “How’s your hangover?” you ask, breaking the silence. 
He smiles, nuzzling his nose to yours. “Much better.”
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