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#a bitch has a hand fixation and that bitch is Me
violetueur-archive · 2 years
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the  intimacy  of  hands. » ACCEPTING
@geistxhund​​ asked:  [ reassure ]  –  for the sender’s muse to place their hand over the receiver’s in a moment of stress and squeeze reassuringly. - last one! haha sorry, I'm a sucker for soft hand tropes ;-;
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No matter how hard she tries to determine what's set her off, Nicolette can hardly form a coherent thought over the awful ringing in her ears. Distantly, she can hear a familiar voice, muffled and unintelligible, but recognizable all the same. Feels the presence of another body hovering close as she sits rigidly atop the bar stool. It's fine, usually. Being in a place like this amongst crowds of people, but... sometimes it isn't. All it really takes is someone invading her space uninvited, offering unwanted touch, the scent of booze clinging to their breath or a voice that sounds a little too much like one she tries to forget, and then she can feel the heat of rage licking at the back of her mind. She's reluctant to call it a problem— this suffocating anxiety that overwhelms her, clouding critical thinking and allowing emotion to take full control— but even if it's not an everyday occurrence, it seems to happen too often to be a complete fluke. It makes her feel pathetically weak and that only exacerbates the issue. She's been at the mercy of others for much of her life, fighting tooth and nail for an ounce of control. How is it that she can withstand brutal violence without flinching, but the moment she feels helpless, she can't help but fall apart? It's a mental conditioning that had been started from a young age, aided by more than one perpetrator, and even after all this time, escape feels impossible.
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There's a stinging pain coming from her palm, dulled only by her panic, and eyes that once saw red peer down to see it once again, not as the blanket of blind fury, but in the form of blood pooling onto the counter. Broken glass frames the scene and Nicolette realizes with a sudden clarity that she'd clutched her drink so tightly that it had no choice but to shatter in her grip. Maybe it was some instinctual act to repress the urge to turn and smash it over the head of the man who'd decided to approach her in a drunken haze, foolishly believing he'd have a chance with someone like her so much so that he'd ignored all boundaries. Or maybe subconsciously she knew the pain would help to break through the alarm. Normally it wouldn't have been enough, and she would've surely sent the entire establishment into chaos trying to wring the fucker's neck; however, she hadn't been drinking alone, this time.
Suddenly that lingering presence has an identity, the voice becoming clearer as it spouts soft reassurances. The stranger is nowhere to be seen, likely driven off by the angry coyote currently trying to comfort his companion. She cannot bring herself to look at him though, gaze glued to her hands trembling atop the counter, watching as a gloved appendage enters her line of vision. It smooths slowly over her arm before sliding atop her bloody fist. It's larger than her own, covering it entirely, coaxing scarred digits to unfurl and release the broken glass. Their fingers almost intertwine as he holds the top of her hand, lightly squeezing.
Something strange happens inside her chest, to her heart— an unfamiliar reaction she's too high strung to examine further, and there's a fluttering sensation in her guts. She thinks it might be nausea, but then again, it feels pleasant, somehow, and there's no sign of her stomach twisting with the urge to vomit. Her face feels hot. All of it confuses her, but it's hard to think clearly, or maybe it's just better not to. There's a part of her that's afraid to know what it means, so instead she just... stops thinking. Or tries to. It's easier this way ( it's safer ). Instead, she focuses on how she actually feels, rather than why. That's an issue for another day, or maybe never if she's lucky. This isn't the kind of comfort she's used to. In fact, the kind of ❛ comfort ❜ people usually try to give her is hardly comfort at all, and really just another way to use her for their own desires. That's fine, usually. She's using them too, after all. But it wears on her, sometimes.
But this... it's different. This touch demands nothing, only gives. It's gentle, but firm in a way that's surprisingly grounding. It's kind and it's— ❝ Warm... ❞ It comes as quiet murmur. The raven wonders how much warmer it would be to feel his skin directly, but quickly shoves the thought down and focuses instead on the way the tension begins to melt from her shoulders, even if her breathing still comes out labored. As his palm cradles her knuckles, she finds herself leaning towards the space his takes up, until her back touches his chest. He seems to be stuck between keeping his distance and touching, but does not pull away as she huddles towards him. Nicolette has always had a tendency to ignore boundaries, to act without really thinking, and while Khaz has not often been the one to initiate touch, she’s made a habit of it, without even really knowing what compels her to do so. He seems to retreat less and less lately— is it wishful thinking to believe he may even welcome it, sometimes?
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❝ Khaz... I wanna go. ❞ The worst has passed, but she still feels on edge. Senses the many pairs of eyes that linger in their direction, even if she doesn’t look up to see them. She does, however, look up to meet his, appearing tired and ashamed, but also grateful. Doesn’t make a move to leave the seat, as if forgetting how. ❝ Can we leave... please? ❞ He gets the message, and she doesn’t flinch away as he ushers her off the stool, nor when he guides her to the door. He doesn’t ask where she wants to go— doesn't need to, when she’s already got a blanket and a change of clothes tucked away at his office. Her palm still bleeds, and Nicolette isn’t sure if she can concentration enough to stop it, nor does she try. It matters little, because Khaz will bandage it for her, anyway.
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i-deserve-to-bite · 4 days
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GHRHRHRHRRRR I HATE RAINY I HATE RAINY SO MUCH HOLY SHIT !!
{i may even be a hypocrite to him}
#i swear to Fuck if they are doing that stuff again#i dont like them!! unfairly so!!#and i dont care that its unfair im mad at them!!#theyre a wonderful person but i dont want to deal witb their shit and they make me so mad and aghhhh!!#AHHGHHHHHGHHH!!!!!!#I HATE THEM IW ANT TO HURT THEM I WANT THEM TO SHUT UP AND STOP BEING A MISERABLE LITTLE BITCH I SWEAR TO GOD#EVEN WHEN THEYVE DONE WRONG THEY ACT LIKE SUCH A FUCKING VICTIM AND THEYLL ADMIT THEYRE WRONG TO SEEM GOOD#AND THEY ARENT AWARE THAT OTHERS ARE AWARE OF IT AND i am probably projecting and it makws me feel like jude and i am definitely#projecting#because rainy has done wrong and i just associate bad things with them and i dont like how we're so alike and how i can pin down their char#acter so easily and i dont like feeling this way#and sghh#rainy is lovely. i just hated fixating on them and i know they crave the fixation and hdiing secrets and the heartbeating it gave but i am#i hate when they hide things from me because it makes me feel stupid and when they hide it in plain sighr knowing i can find it#it just feels?? i dont know#but i probably do that too#im scared that the way i think of them is the way people think of me#we should be meshing together since we're so alike but we clash so awfully#we're both loud but im sensitive to noise and easily irritable and overall much? more bad compared to them#they are a lot better in every way a better roleplayer better emotionally better at forgiving better at collecting#i take pride in what i do because i am the best i know but theyre better at these things#the only thing i have against them? my art. its the one thing better than their stuff. i will cut off their hands to keep my distinctions#i do not want to be alike to them in any way#theyve even somehow taken an old face of mine its like theyre stuck in my past and ive seen all the things theyre doing but in a slightly#different way#i dont know. agh.#i hate tthem#i dont want to be with them again or pining over them because that was the worst obsession ever and i remember barely anything but the sheer#awful awful too emotional feelings and it was so painful somehow.#it was nice at the time and i hate saying that and i hste how everytime i think of them its just Jude and that awful awful stuff and I'm.
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fuckmyskywalker · 9 months
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Pussy pleaser — Anakin Skywalker.
— CW: 18+, smut! Anakin eating pussy, Anakin worshipping it, fucking it, basically existing just to eat cunt. Slay. (I may have overused the word "pussy" but hey, can you blame me?). — BASED OFF THIS THOUGHT I HAD AFTER BEING SLEEP DEPRIVED. || WC: 1.2k – Not proofread :P.
— A/N: IMPORTANT! I tried not to use a specific pronoun to refer to reader's vAGINA because I know some people that wanted a larger version of this don't go by she/her pronouns! I hope I did it well and if I missed something please let me know! Your opinion matters to me 🫶🏻. Woops, what's missing here?! ;)
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Anakin is an exceptional lover, but if there's something he lacks… is patience.
Especially when it comes to you.
After a rough day, after a good day, to cheer up after some bad news, to celebrate after some good news, after the council either scolded/congratulated him… Anakin always ends his day buried in between your thighs. It doesn't even matter how, if it is his cock, his tongue, his fingers— As long as your pussy is involved, he’s in, figuratively and literally speaking. 
But like I said, his patience is little to none, and it shows. Anakin will not only overwork you, overstimulate you and completely ravish your sweet pussy at any given chance, time and place— but he also will give you a short time to even accommodate and keep up with his passionate urges. His large hands start caressing your thighs, trying to hold himself back every time but failing miserably, he will pry them apart slowly, trying to savor the moment (mostly for himself), tracing your skin with practiced ease. He knows every curve, every freckle and mole, Anakin has memorized every inch of your body and he is proud to know what makes you crumble and beg for more. 
Anakin tries to be gentle, but having your heavenly offer just inches away within his reach and not be buried deep inside you is a crime. He licks your pussy until you have no idea if you are this wet because of the arousal he provoked on you or his own spit.
 Which, let me add to the list how disgusting he is sometimes: Anakin is filthy, and his devotion to you only seems to make his obsession even worse. One of his favorite activities is parting your lips with his thumb, before licking a long, lazy stripe from your entrance to your clit— and then spit right on your cunt. He will throb like a horny teenager, he will hump the mattress of the cheap beds in the Jedi Temple like a desperate bitch while watching how his saliva slides and mixes with your own wetness. 
Speaking of his obsession, Anakin lives, fights and comes back home every day for you, of course… but for your pussy too. His favorite breakfast, meal and dinner. His favorite treat and his favorite prize. 
Countless times you had laid down on the bed, legs open wide like a cheap whore from a dirty brothel straight from the most dark, disgusting corners of Coruscant, with his head buried in between them, tugging on his blonde curls moaning and grinding his nose against your clit for him to mumble something so quietly you mistake it with an insect flying across the room. 
“I missed you.” He whispered, his blown out irises fixated on your pussy. “My pretty thing.”
The first time it felt flattering. It was nice to know your boyfriend missed you so much. You ignored him, thinking he was just eager. 
The second time, it was the same.
Same quiet murmurs, same praises: “God, I can’t get enough of you…” Anakin had his eyes closed, sucking on your clit and pausing every now and then to whisper sweet words to you. 
Sure, to you.
Over and over, you gobbled up his praises, his need, his lust for you. Anakin had the power to push you to heavens, to reduce you to a blabbering puddle, to lit up your darkness fantasies, so why stop him? He sounds like he’s enjoying himself, and who are you to deny him such pleasure?
There's always a breaking point though.
Remember how I mentioned how impatient Anakin is? Well, this time it didn't worked on your favor. Instead of prepping your pussy, allowing you to have a nice, slippery stretch to be able to fit his thick cock without any discomfort, Anakin couldn't wait. It wasn't particularly painful, but a sharp sting was there, something momentarily but significant. Anakin bottomed out, groaning loudly at how tight your pussy was in that moment, his horny, selfish mind not being able to register his lack of consideration.
“You are tighter than usual.” He huffed, his fingers digging in the supple flesh your waist. You tried to protest, to tell him he didn't stretch you first, but he began to trust relentlessly, hitting your sweet spot over and over. 
Every complaint quickly died in your throat, replaced by moans of pleasure and delight. Even if it felt amazing, your pussy was still struggling to accommodate to his size, and Anakin, the little shit, was in heaven. 
“You missed me? You missed my cock pretty thing? Missed me using you like a toy?”
Despite your blissful state, something about his words just seemed… off. 
Almost as if he wasn't talking to you. 
Anakin’s hips slammed against yours again and again giving you no break at all. Your hands had to grab the edge of the wooden bed frame at some point, the discomfort of his girth now long forgotten. He hovered over you, staring at your pretty, glassy eyes, watching them roll back, silently beg him for more and then looked downwards, locking his devil eyes with your pussy. If there was something Anakin would never, ever, not in a million years get tired of, was the breathtaking view he had every time he had the privilege to witness how your tight little hole struggled to keep him inside, as if your delightful, hot cunt was desperately trying to keep him inside forever.
“Fuck… I missed you too, wish I could stay inside all fucking day.” His incessant gibberish began to have an effect on you, your hazy mind slowly putting the pieces together. 
“Anakin—” You called him with such a tone that he snapped out of his trance. 
“Yes?” He asked, not stopping his movements, just slowing them.
Next, a question you never imagined asking. Your sweaty, flushed face had a hint of confusion, a pretty valid confusion.
“…Are you talking to my pussy?”
Anakin froze, looking almost— guilty?
“What if I am?” He answered your question with another question, something you hated. 
“Anakin, answer the question.” You sighed, waiting for his answer as if you two weren't naked on his bed, him buried balls deep inside of you. 
Your boyfriend pouted, was he really throwing a tantrum? “Maybe.” He whispered. In response, you laughed quietly trying not to ruin the moment. It wasn't odd, probably a bit perverted and a bit— hot? The fact that Anakin was so in love with your pussy he treated it as if it was another whole being worth his wholehearted attention. 
“I think it’s… hot” Your words were followed by a shrug, staring at him, batting your eyelashes.
Giving him that look.
And if Anakin Skywalker isn’t the most patient person in the Galaxy, he certainly is the designated pussy pleaser of the Galaxy. 
He pounced again, wasting less than five seconds to resume his reckless assault on your poor, overworked pussy. “See?” He practically growled, his teeth sinking in his lower lip, curving into a wicked smile. “This tight, little cunt missed my big cock so much.” He is on full rampage mode, fucking you brainless. 
“Feel how I stretch your tiny hole, angel?”
“Look at you, is my cock too big for you?”
One hand let go of your hip, grabbing your face and squeezing your cheeks, breaking eye contact with your bodies merged into one and forcing you to look at him. His face was inches away from yours, his hot breath hit your face and a string of drool falling from his lips landed on your lower lip. The fire in his eyes was incomparable.
“This pussy belongs to me, not you, do you hear me?”
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morganitering · 5 months
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Because I'm the Weakest
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Pairing: yandere!Satosugu x fem!reader
Warnings: Rape/non-con, Dead dove, darkfic, dissociation, trauma, rape fantasy, rape aftermath, vomiting (not during sex), unhealthy relationships, non-consensual drug usage, drugged sex, canon typical violence, sexism, implied/referenced alcohol usage/abuse
Contains: F/M/M, spitroasting, oral sex, penis in vagina sex, blow jobs, face-sitting, come play, overstimulation, voyeurism, slight size kink, humiliation/degradation, vaginal fingering, mentioned Nanami.
Word count: ~6,5k
Summary: Growing up as a female sorcerer has not been easy, especially when you are overshadowed by two prodigies. You used to form a tight-knit friend group, but now in adulthood everyone battled their own demons whether it be a god complex or feelings of inferiority. Gojo Satoru revives a group chat that was almost long forgotten, inviting you and his boyfriend for a long weekend, just like the old days. Before the regrettable night, you wouldn't have ever thought that you'd need to raise a fist against a friend.
A/N: Hey everyone, another fic but this time featuring our two favorite dudes with insanity turned to the max. This fic is once again full of warnings and proceed with caution and read the tags! Remember to take care of yourself. Otherwise enjoy and feel free to like and comment <3
read on ao3 PART II
“Booring,” Satoru complained audibly as he looked through the streaming services’ different movies and series. The little icons changed from bombshell babes to twisted faces with titles written in blood. He was sprawled over the corner of a ridiculously huge couch and he was wiggling his foot as a nervous tick of his. He wasn’t wearing his usual garb, instead he had opted for something more relaxed and comfortable.
“If you’re so bored you should help us out in the kitchen,” Suguru sighed, his black hair draping over his shoulders, still slightly wet from the shower he had taken earlier. When you had pointed out that he was leaving droplets of water everywhere where he went, Suguru had just smiled at you and told you that it’s better for hair to air dry.
He held a knife in his right hand and the other one held onto a cucumber to keep it in place. His fingers were slender but by no means unmanly. Suguru wasn’t too fixated on the vegetable in front of him, chopping away with confidence only experience would provide.
“And where would the fun be in that since I got you two as my private chefs?” Satoru pouted as he shoveled candy in his face.
“You’re going to lose your appetite, if you eat candy now,” you chimed in, poking the halloumi that kept on sizzling on the pan. The water evaporated in a mist that warmed your cheeks in the cool apartment. It wasn’t actually cold in the open plan kitchen, but you had spent long enough in front of the appliances to break a sweat.
“I’d eat it anyway,” the white haired man whined as he got up from the couch finally settling on a tv series that started playing mindlessly in the background. “So, what am I supposed to do?” He asked after grabbing a piece of pomegranate from a small see through bowl. He walked behind you both like a shark, eyeing the ingredients and you, uncomfortably close.
“Set the table and learn to bitch less,” you joked.
“You wound me,” Satoru said, feigning sadness, but did as he was told.
The three of you were residing in an apartment that Satoru had bought himself from one of the skyscrapers surrounding Tokyo. After Jujutsu High it had gotten increasingly hard for the three of you to meet as adult responsibilities weighed heavily on both of their shoulders, – especially Satoru’s, but you saw the similar pain carried in Suguru just as well.
You were not weak, but you could not compare to the two prodigies. On the days when you felt down, the pain of third wheeling constantly ate you up, sometimes so much so that you rather left the two men talking together in the group chat. It furthered the wedge between you and them, until the messages became sparse and you almost could pretend not to know them.
It had been six months since the last time you met, but one day Satoru broke the silence and a notification popped up from your shared chat. It had taken you by a surprise, you were vaguely aware that even him and Suguru had issues with fitting each other in their lives, due to individual missions and what not. So the fact that Satoru decided to deliberately send a message to you as well, got you anxiously excited. He reached out to you. You. A high school friend that barely kept in touch with him.
“Guys! I refuse to work this weekend so come to my place. Let’s have a get together like the good old times ❤️ ❤️?? A little sleepover if you will!”
“Lol what about the higher ups?” Suguru had asked, typing back way too fast.
“Actually never mind I don’t want to be made into an accomplice in your crimes,” Suguru had continued.
“Am I invited too?” You had asked, hands shaking slightly as you stared at the bright screen, already tucked into bed. It was late, but Satoru was a known night owl.
“Damn, what have I done to earn this type of reputation 😭” Satoru complained, reacting to both your and Suguru’s message. You could hear his voice as if he was there in the same room as you.
“Of course you are invited, silly. I wouldn’t send this here if you weren’t.”
So now you were there, living an almost ridiculously domestic life with the couple that you had been hanging out with ever since you were sixteen. They had not changed too much. They were still both tall and slender but years had rid them of the rest of the baby fat as they started to resemble more men than boys, vigorous fighting showing in their bodies in an ever gained muscle mass. You supposed you were the same too. Battle hardened. That’s the word you were looking for.
You were just about to sit down but you saw long limbs reaching out to the white chair pulling it backwards. You looked at Satoru with a raised eyebrow. He was acting weird.
“What? I’m a host. I’m being hospitable,” he said, voice melodic as he pressed his hand on your shoulder to pet your arm reassuringly a few times. Suguru laughed quietly as he sat down next to Satoru.
You ate and drank, buzzing with energy. It was like no time had passed and you wondered why did you ever stop talking to these two. After a drink or two you were brave enough to ask for some hot gossip. Like every high school friend, you went through old drama, like how ugly Nanami’s haircut used to be.
“Has Nanami found love yet?” You had asked. He seemed like the type to find a decent relationship first out of all of you, but to everyone’s surprise it was these two men.
“Do you still have a crush on him? I heard that he’s quite a looker nowadays” Suguru bounced a question back at you with a smile tugging on his lips. It was that one expression that looked a tad too kind.
“No, I don’t. I was just curious,” you tried to move on from the subject. You did not really discuss your relationship history with these two, at least not anymore.
“Why?” Suguru asked, leaning on the hand he had placed on the table. The atmosphere felt off, it was as if he was challenging you. You looked at Satoru who seemed to be equally as interested in your answer.
You scratched your neck awkwardly.
“I- I think he’s too soft,” you said blushing at the implication of your words. You had turned your gaze to your almost empty bowl, your mind going to improper places. As you were buried in your embarrassment, Satoru and Suguru shared a silent look with each other.
At some point during the evening you had moved to the white haired man’s bedroom. He wanted to show you the view from the window since he lived on the 30th floor. It was magnificent. The busy streets were bustling even during the night and you stared at the small lights that blinked in different colors. Your eyes followed the cars that swerved left and right as some people were gathered up in front of bars for a smoke break. You barely could make them out from the height you were in.
Satoru’s bedroom was basically the size of someone’s apartment. The bed was huge and sleek, unlike the common area. This room was a lot moodier and darker and it actually showed that he lived here, small bits and bobs decorating shelves and few paintings were hung up on the wall that you reckoned were Suguru’s taste.
Your drinks had changed from light cocktails to expensive red wine that you were almost scared to consume, but when Satoru saw hesitation in you he made a point to assure you that it’s all on him and after that almost instantaneously Suguru asked you something, leaving you no room to overthink.
The uneasiness still followed you. It was a gut feeling that you were really bad at listening to. You did not believe you were in danger – at least you’d like to think that as a jujutsu sorcerer you’d be trained to recognize threats by now. Luckily the red wine relaxed you, lulling you to the feeling of safety.
The volume of music was loud as the three of you listened to some throwback songs that still made you shamelessly want to dance. You were celebrating embarrassingly in Satoru’s room laughing, swaying your bodies along with the beat. It was as if you were in a club, except this was way more intimate. The world spinned around you, the warm lights mixed with the glimpses of the night sky and the longer outlines of your friends. You felt light, time slowing down and going overspeed at the same time as if you were alone on the highway. Your friends’ smiles stretched on their faces, eyes twinkling manically as both of the men appeared to you in double. Eventually when you tired each other out the whole group collapsed on the bed still humming happily. Satoru’s bed was plush and big enough to have room for the three of you.
You noted the way the silk felt like a warm hug underneath you, the ceiling moving like a slithering snake’s skin on savannah.
Satoru was lying on his back on the left side of you, his white hair now more tousled than before whereas Suguru was on the right leaving you in the middle of the two men.
“I think we should play a question game,” Satoru’s voice was bordering on a whisper. The music had stopped.
You stayed silent. “Satoru, I’m not feeling too good,” you managed to say. The bed was a ship and you were a passenger of the sea.
“I didn’t know you’re that lightweight,” Satoru’s hand reached out to your head to pet you, the gesture meant to lower your guards, but in your ever increasing discomfort, his touch only managed to make your skin tingle with aversion.
“Just humor us for a bit, it could be like the good old days, right?” Suguru argued, flashing a dead smile at you.
“Okay, whatever. Ask me something,” you rolled your eyes, too tired to fight them in your weird mental and physical stage.
“Hmm,” Satoru turned to his side to face you, his blue gaze piercing yours as you were still laying on your back. You had no idea when he had removed his sunglasses. You heard Suguru moving next to you as well. “What do you mean by Nanami being too soft?” The way Satoru laid down the question was impish.
The tone of the conversation had taken a full one-eighty and you opened your mouth to answer with only lies on the tip of your tongue, but then you decided against that. Those two had a very good bullshit radar.
“Do you want to hear what I think?” Satoru grinned playfully as he licked his plump lips once.
“I think Nanami would bore you out of your mind, missionary on Mondays without the lights on? Ugh, I wouldn’t want that for my worst enemy,” he said, laughter hollow full of malice. You couldn’t believe your own ears.
“I think you want it rough and behind that tough girl act, there’s an insatiable woman with some wild fantasies,” he blabbered his obscene thoughts. “Tell me, have you ever had sex with two men?” Gojo’s voice was loud and it was as if he was talking to you from a speaker that had been locked in another room. He was too close, too far away and simultaneously too here.
“What the-” you got cut off.
“Don’t curse. It’s unseemly from a woman,” Geto said calmly.
“Answer me,” Gojo demanded. During high school you would have described Gojo’s eyes as a beautiful spring day. You would have said that he reminded you of blue skies with perfectly white fluffy clouds, but now his eyes had turned to something much paler and darker. They reminded you of deep untouched snow drifts turned to blue in the moonlight as they sparkled ominously, waiting for the first little animal that dared to break the pristine condition.
“What did you do to me?” Your voice was not your own, it was weak, the accusation of your words turning dull as the red wine you had drank earlier sanded the edges away.
“Nothing permanent,” Geto said.
His admittance striked terror in you. Realization hit you, you were not safe here and you felt the familiar warmth flowing in you like a second nature. You manipulated the cursed energy, channeled it and let it flow steadily in your body guiding the power to your hands, but something in it felt unstable, it felt like a chord that was almost broken just barely connecting.
“Did you know that some drugs really affect the ability to use cursed energy? Not that it would matter in your case,” Geto explained, his voice overflowing around you, sticking to your skin like honey.
“Fuck you!” You yelled letting out a gust of wind to both sides, throwing the two men away from you. They landed nimbly to the floor, like cats, as you yourself hopped up from the bed, your vision blurred, walls moving back and forth, small figurines on the shelves changing color others dancing in front of your eye lids. Your head ached, pain banging against your skull, gnawing at the nerve endings that sent panic infused messages across your body, screaming: Stop moving!
“Oh so you want to spar? Go on then, show me what you have,” Geto purred.
It was a pathetic attempt in your current state. Your feet took you towards the door that Geto had come to protect. Hands and feet clashed together in close combat as you drew your cursed energy that was flickering unevenly in your body. Every time you got too close to escaping either Geto or Gojo kicked you further away.
The white haired bastard wasn’t even using his infinity which only added salt to your wounds. He deliberately chose to prance around you, letting you at times touch him a wild smile on his face. There was no cursed energy, no flashy techniques, just you and two overpowered men.
“Do you remember what they said in school when facing someone stronger than you?” Gojo asked, dodging your fist.
“Don’t be a hero,” Geto grabbed your arm and twisted it painfully behind you. “Contact someone better equipped to handle it,” he said and shoved you forwards with a force so great that you staggered towards Gojo’s table with the MacBook wobbling with force earning a “Hey, that’s my computer!” protest from the man himself.
The lights went out with a sound of shattering glass, leaving the three of you enveloped in the darkness, only city lights illuminating the room. Disorientated by the sudden change in environment you froze, breathing heavily as the two men practically surrounded you. Gojo appeared in front of you not a hair out of place.
“And with that, you’re dead. You really should not get distracted during training,” the white haired man shared his advice talking to you with the same tone he used on his pupils. “Truce?” He offered his hand.
You looked up. There was something sinister about the way they hovered over you. Geto’s beautiful prince-like features had turned harsh and angular, the shadows sharpening his face even more. You swallowed a bunch of bile, the effects of forcing yourself to move taking place.
“The power disparity is too big,” Geto said. He almost pitied you. You were a smart girl, you’d figure the best move soon.
You grabbed the hand bitterly. Gojo helped you up and Geto wrapped his arm around your waist when you were about to fall again.
“Careful,” he mumbled, his hand trailing underneath your shirt. His touch felt cold against your burning skin that was damp from sweat. “We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” he taunted.
“Take her shirt off. I’ve waited long enough,” Gojo said impatiently, tapping his foot on the floor.
“Always so demanding,” Geto chuckled as he worked your shirt up, unclasping your bra unceremoniously, your breasts now free for the two men to ogle.
“Perfect tits,” Gojo said as he pawed at you and played with your nipples. You were completely overwhelmed and out of energy. Luckily, you did not have to stand on your own as Geto helped you to stay up his hands unzipping your jeans.
“Why me?” You squeaked your head drooping in defeat as you looked at Geto’s hand that vanished underneath your panties, your trousers still on you. Your question went unanswered.
“Satoru I think you might have been right about your theory,” You felt Geto’s smile on your neck as he referenced the earlier conversation regarding Nanami.
“Really? Is she wet?” Gojo asked curiously.
“Soaking,” Geto said as he explored your soft folds with ease. “Did fighting us make you feel better about what’s going to happen? At least you can tell your friends that you did not break easy,” Geto mumbled onto your skin pressing kisses to your neck, his hand still working on you going up and down tantalizing on your slit.
Gojo dropped to his knees pulling down the rest of your clothes. A whimper left your mouth as you shook your head powerlessly.
“Lift her leg up,” Gojo instructed. Geto slid his hand behind your right knee, lifting it up till you were wobbling on one foot as you leaned on him for support. The white haired man had his lips slightly apart as he looked in awe at the sight unfolding in front of him. His mouth was watering as Geto maneuvered his hand back to your folds, spreading them in front of Gojo’s face so that his boyfriend could take a long hard look at everything you were offering.
You saw the gears turning in Gojo’s head as his expression turned to a mischievous one. “I want her to sit on my face,” he licked his lips and made his way to the bed, throwing the shirt on the floor.
“Can you move?” Geto asked as he let go of your leg, holding onto your trembling body. He tipped your head towards him, his face looking almost worried. It reminded you of the old times, but this was not the old Suguru. This was someone new. Twisted.
He helped you to the bed, where Gojo had been waiting, completely naked, his chest heaving in anticipation. Your eyes scanned him from head to toe, stopping at his cock that had already started to curve upwards. It already looked big, bigger than anything you had ever taken.
“Like what you see baby? Cause me too,” Gojo said jokingly. “Well, come here then or do you want to fuck us dry? Because I’m fine with that,” he hurried you, the threat looming over you.
You climbed on top of him, saddling his face. Gojo’s hands immediately grabbed at your ass, pulling you towards his mouth. You could imagine the pink tip of his tongue trying out where you were the most sensitive. He was too impatient to tease you, quickly finding the bundle of nerves that was begging for his attention. He lapped at it as obscenely wet noises filled the room. Gojo sucked on your clit and you moaned loudly, throwing your head back, a sheen layer of sweat on you.
You felt him hum into your cunt as you felt the weight shift behind you on the mattress, Geto’s hand moving on Satoru’s length, pumping it roughly.
“You see, Satoru here is a bit of a munch. He is loud during the day, but put a cock in his mouth and it works wonders at silencing him. Apparently he likes the taste of pussy too,” Geto said with a devious smile on his lips. Gojo groaned animalistically into your wet heat as the black haired man felt his own hardness straining against his boxers. It took everything in his power to not to take off his clothes and fuck you till you were cock drunk and babbling incoherently, but he had too much fun playing with you.
“How does it feel like having the strongest sorcerer lapping you up like a regular man?” Geto’s voice was just a hush in your ear. “Men and women around the globe are going to be jealous when they hear that Gojo Satoru wanted to stick his dick in you,” Geto taunted you both as his hand focused on rotating around Satoru’s tip, spreading out the drops of precome around his cock. Satoru bucked his hips up involuntarily.
You came. Hard. You thrashed around Gojo’s head as the man between your legs held onto you stubbornly, licking and sucking through your orgasm. You felt something warm trickling straight to his face as the pressure in the lower half of your body exploded. Your voice was high pitched and desperate as you rode his face till you were sore, your already weak legs giving out.
Gojo pushed you off of him, gasping for air, pupils blown out in arousal. His face glistened in your juices and his saliva.
“You know what, for a man who’s shaming me for being talkative, you sure speak a lot yourself Suguru,” he pointed out. Suguru laughed, honest to god laughed, his eyes squinting contently as Satoru pulled him into a kiss.
There was something incredibly erotic watching the two men, knowing that Geto would taste the remnants of you as their lips smacked together messily. Their bodies tangled together, black hair flowing around white as Gojo buried his hand in Geto’s luscious strands. Gojo pulled his boyfriend’s face up gently exposing the bobbing Adam's apple that he kissed reverently. It was now Geto’s turn to saddle Gojo.
“I think you need to take your clothes off. Give her a little show,” Satoru said, biting into the skin on Suguru’s clavicle as his hands fumbled with the black haired man’s belt that opened with a clink.
Geto pulled his black t-shirt over his head, his taut muscles flexing. It felt like forever when Gojo caressed the man on top of him, his face in a constant grin. He took down the boxers inch by inch until Geto’s cock sprang out after being suppressed inside his clothes for too long.
“Get on fours,” Gojo ordered as you clumsily did what he told you to. He moved behind you whereas Geto took place in front of you.
“Arch your back.”
You stretched yourself, lowering your torso and propping your butt up almost as if you were offering yourself on a silver platter. Gojo’s hand came down to your ass with force making your body jerk when he dug his nails on the soft skin.
“Wow, you must fuck a lot of dudes judging by how low you can go. If I knew you were a whore, I would have bent you over earlier,” he laughed, his finger prodding on your entrance.
Geto pulled you from your hair. It wasn’t the nice kind of pain that came when one would grab them near the scalp; instead it stung like hell, when Geto yanked your head up, putting you on the perfect level of his cock.
Gojo inserted one finger simultaneously inside you and almost immediately added another. You whined as his fingers scissored you open, your lips almost touching the head of Geto.
“You know, I get to lie with this amazing man every day. Show him the same respect as I do,” Gojo said. Had you not been caught up in their fucked up power play, their love for each other would have truly warmed your heart.
Geto’s thumb stroked your cheek as if to apologize for what was about to happen. He let his hand trail down to your bottom lip, swiping across it gently.
“Open.”
Satoru pushed his hand almost knuckles deep into you, a guttural moan making its escape from your lips as he used his hand to finger fuck you. Geto used your opening mouth to his advantage to stuff his cock in you. He was huge, your jaw already hurting. His tangy taste spreaded in your mouth as he softly rocked back and forth, not wanting to choke you just yet.
You hollowed out your cheeks and focused on the tip of his cock as you used one of your hands to touch what you could not fit. Geto’s eyes were half lidded as he guided your head to a rhythm that he liked as you squirmed underneath Gojo’s touch.
Gojo removed his hand from you leaving you empty, you almost missed the sensation of him, but soon felt the man behind you poking your folds with something much bigger than his fingers. You mewled in panic when he entered you, your eyes widening in shock. God he was huge.
“Focus. Eyes up here,” Geto said, patting your cheek with an open palm. The way you looked up at him made Suguru feel close to high, your pupils widened to the size of a plate, eyes glistening in tears that you held back, still holding onto a sliver of pride. Brave girl, he thought to himself.
Gojo fucked you sloppily, squelching, slapping and your gurgling filling the room as both the men used your body to chase their own highs. You felt like you were drowning and when one withdrew the other one rammed into you without a second thought. It was hard to keep your attention on Geto when his boyfriend did everything in his power to make your task at hand challenging, when his long cock grazed upon that one spot inside you from time to time.
“I’m going to finish in your mouth,” Geto was out of breath, his grip tightened around your skull. Gojo groaned behind you with his fingers digging into your hips. You were sure that you’d have handprints tattooed on your skin by the end of this night.
Geto’s movement got erratic, his cock hitting the back of your throat making you gag around him painfully. The black haired man relished in the wet warmth your mouth provided him. He was panting as pleasure coursed through him, your despaired moans only driving him further. Hot stripes of his come coated your mouth. You wanted to spit it out, or swallow it, anything to get rid of it as your face soured in disgust.
“Keep it in your mouth,” he advised as he pulled out of you. You almost wanted to spit it on his face as an act of defiance. Geto smiled at the confrontational look on your face as if he knew what you were thinking. “Good girl,” he purred when you had decided not to go against him.
Gojo flipped you quickly around to lie on your back, your legs floating in the air awkwardly as he entered back into you swiftly. He pulled you in a feverish kiss, his soft lips slightly swollen. His tongue prodded inside your mouth, Suguru’s come spreading into his mouth as you explored each other. It felt disgusting, playing with someone’s fluids like this, but somehow it made your cunt clench around your white haired high school friend.
There was something deeply primal in the way Gojo drove into you, his head almost resting on yours as he fucked you deep and hard. You were vaguely aware of Geto’s eyes following the act in front of him, admiring the way Satoru’s muscles moved with every move, drinking up the disheveled look on you.
Satoru’s hips came to halt as he plastered his seed on your walls, making sure that he wasn’t too deep, keeping his thrusts shallow enough so he could see him leaking out of your used cunt.
“Fuck,” he breathed out, spent, the after glow warming him. “You didn’t come right?” He asked you, feeling slightly tired.
“No, but it doesn’t matter,” you rasped out your throat feeling hoarse after the abuse it had taken. Frankly you wanted to sleep as well.
“Suguru, can you help her out? I want to watch,” Gojo said as he fluffed the pillow underneath him to get into a comfortable position as if he was about to open the television and watch his favorite show.
“If you hold onto her other leg,” he said as he propped your left leg around his waist and Gojo took hold of your right one. You were helpless and unable to protect yourself when you tried to squirm away from the two devious men.
Geto’s nimble fingers gathered up Satoru’s come that was trickling down between your cheeks. He pushed it back inside you, moving his fingers slowly without a hurry in the world. It reminded you of the calm before a storm.
“You’re going to give us one more right?” Geto’s voice was reassured when he added another finger into you, thumb trailing to your sensitive clit. He knew just what to do, to get you fast back to the edge that you were teetering on earlier, already feeling overstimulated from the rough treatment you had gotten. His fingers made a come-hither movement hitting precisely your g-spot.
Gojo held onto you whispering sweet nothings to your ear, his thumb caressing your thigh. He was gentle, his touch light, eyes half lidded as he enjoyed the small whimpers coming from your mouth. He spoke to you, told you how much he had wanted you from the beginning. He spoke of how he saw that you wanted him – them. Gojo let you know how well you were doing, taking what they dished out to you, how you were brave and oh so good. He attempted to bury you in his twisted love, six feet underground, anxiety and arousal covering Geto’s fingers.
It was too overwhelming. Gojo next to you, Geto between your legs, your world still spinning around you, overstimulating touch and a coil about to snap. You wailed hollowly as you came apart on Suguru’s fingers one last time.
***
It was deep in the night, around two AM to be precise. You had shot your eyes open as the wave of nausea hit you. The two men had fallen asleep cuddling each other, limbs tangled on each other. You got up as quickly as you could, your head ache punishing you from your choices, stomach churning dangerously.
With a pitter patter from your naked feet, you carried yourself to the extravagant bathroom, barely having time to put the lights on as your nausea took over.
You doubled over the toilet seat, emptying your stomach of your earlier dinner and whatever else your friends had slipped in your drink. You held onto your hair desperately trying not to make a mess. A warm hand landed on your fist bunching up the rest of your hair gently.
“It’s okay. I’m here,” Suguru said affectionately, stroking your head. “Let it all out. You’re going to feel better soon.”
The acidic taste filled your mouth once again as if it was reacting to Suguru’s company. Your body forced you to throw up stomach fluids after having nothing else in it.
The way he took care of you brought up memories of the times you had taken one too many drinks, after your partner of that time had broken up with you. You remembered the way he had held you crying, snot and tears covering his shirt as you broke down.
The sound of water pouring into a glass echoed on the walls and you heard the rattle of an ice drawer disturbing the silence.
“You should drink this,” Satoru showed up leaning on the door frame, offering the glass to you. You hesitated.
“It’s just water.” He said and took a sip as if it would prove you anything. “See?”
You grabbed it from his hand, when you decided that you didn’t care anymore, downing the entire glass in almost one swing. The cold scraped your tender throat punishingly. You should have drank more slowly.
Waking up after the night had turned to day, the windows no longer covered by the blinds. You did not remember a lot of the act, except vomiting, but that came afterwards. The city was already moving fast, a new day offering new opportunities and new exciting journeys.
You felt physically a lot better, still weird, but you no longer felt like collapsing to the ground nor did you see things twice. It was almost like you had a hangover. You looked around Gojo’s room rolling on the bed that was empty feeling relieved of having space.
There were still signs of yesterday's fighting, but random shards had been taken care of and the lightbulb changed into a working one. You had your own pajamas on you, not having the slightest idea when and how you got into your clothes. Feeling nervous you got out of the bedroom walking to the toilet to empty your bladder. As you wiped, you felt around your crotch, searching for the remainder of different body fluids. You had cleaned yourself up. Or someone had.
You washed your hands, scrubbing them together with fervor, pumping out a heap of soap on your palm.
You repeated it once.
Twice.
Until your skin was scrubbed dry.
You looked at yourself in the mirror just to see familiar features, but not anyone you could recognize. You opened the overnight bag that you had left on the side of the sink to brush your teeth and spit out the foaming toothpaste. A smell of dough frying on the pan wafted to your nose as you heard commotion from the kitchen.
You took steps to the living room to find Suguru in front of the stove flipping pancakes as Satoru was hunched over a pile of strawberries nibbling on them happily. Upbeat rock played in the background as the two men joked around and chatted. You stared at them, something seething in you.
“Good morning! We’re making brunch,” Suguru exclaimed as he flipped a pancake over “Do you want coffee or tea?”
Nails bit into your skin as you clenched your fists together hard, your knuckles turning to white as anger turned on like a switch. You wanted to rage, go absolutely berserker, throw things at them, scream how dare you over and over. Some part of you also wanted to forget the night, pretend that it’s a nightmare, sit down with them to eat some fucking brunch.
“What if I tell someone,” it wasn’t really a question that you wanted them to answer.
“And what would you achieve with that?” Gojo retorted, popping a ridiculously big strawberry in his mouth, leaving the green stem outside as he bit down, the trash floating to the table.
Suguru placed the now ready pancake onto the white plate. He grabbed the black ladle to pour more mixture on the warm pan, before he started speaking calm but collected. It was this matter of fact tone that he used as if he was disappointed in your stupidity since he was always speaking the truth. The audacity of men or something like that.
“You know first hand how some clans look down on women, not believing that women should be sorcerers in the first place. So how do you think these powerful people are going to react to you saying that two of the strongest sorcerers assaulted you?” He mused, the conversation reminding you of ethics class where people discussed your human rights as a starter dish, completely disregarding that they were talking about real lives.
You knew how those types of people would react. They would see it only as normal, a woman’s place as a breeding machine, your sorcerer blood and womb more precious than your soul. They would argue that you were lucky or maybe that you had asked for it. Besides, it wasn’t exactly atypical of people in your line of work going insane, the trail of dead comrades keeping one up for countless nights. And who better to take anger out on than the people who are perceived as less.
“Even if they did believe you, it wouldn’t change our life at all. They need our skills and well, his money,” Suguru continued as Satoru grabbed three coffee cups and placed them on the kitchen island. As if, you were staying. “It would change yours though.”
That’s when realization hit you. They were the type of evil that were completely aware of their sins. They knew exactly what was right and wrong, but they simply did not care, the world as their oyster.
“You’re insane,” a tear rolled down your eye, your body trembling like a leaf.
“Not denying that one,” Satoru quipped, not taking anything serious like usual.
“If you want to, you can leave. You are free to run your mouth however you want, block our numbers, whatever makes you sleep better. Or you can eat some pancakes as friends and have powerful allies for the rest of your life,” Geto said. “I’ll ask again, coffee or tea?”
You bit your lip as the conflicted emotions flashed through your face. You despised that you viewed them still as your friends as much as your enemies. It was weird to love someone who had hurt you in one of the most violating ways possible.
“Coffee,” you mumbled as you sat down on the bar stool hanging your hands on your sides as Suguru poured the dark liquid on the blue cup.
“We got you Plan B too,” Satoru said, throwing the cardboard box into your hands. “You should take it. I’m not ready to be a father,” he added.
You fumbled the package open, popping out the small pill on your hand. You didn’t know how they knew that you weren’t on birth control nor did you really care. You placed the tablet on your tongue taking generous gulps of water as the couple continued on cooking.
Music played as the sun shone brighter, lighting up the whole kitchen, furniture basking up in the natural glow. You ate in peace, mainly Satoru and Suguru talking together but every once in a while you added something in the conversation. You fell quickly back to the old habits, maybe at times chuckling at their stupid jokes.
You pushed away the night. You tucked it in a corner of your mind that you did not dare to look at for many weeks to come. You were just three old high school buddies catching up, nothing more. The flashbacks you saw were not yours and the long weekend continued on as a happy sleep over.
1K notes · View notes
hyunsvngs · 19 days
Text
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priest jeongin in the context of me loving fleabag
wc: 1.1k
warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, blasphemy kink, priest!jeongin (roleplay), dirty talk, dom jeongin (he's mean), sub reader, fingering, orgasm denial, a lottt of spit, wet 'n messy
“Kneel.”
It reverberates throughout your brain like a pinball on one of those old games. It’s strict, firm, but it still has your heart pumping so quickly as if it’s confused you. You knew he’d say this. You spoke about it beforehand, but god - nothing could have prepared you for the image of Jeongin like this. 
His clerical collar is tight around his neck, the long strands of his brown hair tickling the top of it. He hasn’t got his hands shoved in his pockets or anything that could indicate the process of his falling apart, no - Jeongin stands there, hands by his sides, those big black boots spread just enough to have you staring at his crotch.
You drop to your knees. You make a thud on the wooden floor and Jeongin doesn’t even snicker. His eyes narrow in on you, and you lick your lips with anticipation. What is he going to do? You’re not sure, but then he’s leaning down too, fingers on your chin, and his lips press against yours with little warning.
He kisses filthy. You remember the first time you’d kissed him, and he’d been all tongue and teeth even then. He’s not any better now, tongue swiping over yours and his mouth sucking your bottom lip between his teeth. You want to squirm, to run your hands through his hair and pull your priest in for more, more, more, but you need to be good. If you’re not good, he won’t give you anything you want - it’s a simple exchange like that - and so your palms stay flat on your thighs. 
When your lips finally part, a string of thick, viscous spit links the two of you together, and Jeongin groans. He can’t help himself, tongue teasing at the seam of your lips to collect your mixed saliva, and then he’s spitting it back onto your face. A large hand comes upwards, and the one already positioned on your jaw becomes firmer, keeping you in place as he rubs the spit into your cheek.
“Filthy,” He murmurs, eyes fixated on where your skin is slick. Jeongin’s worse, though, and he licks your face clean, groaning again at the taste. “I bet you’re fucking soaking wet, dirty bitch.”
You are. Your panties are grey and if he only spread your legs he’d see - you’re clad in only them, and the wet spot is so large by now that you’re scared it’s going to start dripping on the wooden floor. He coos at you when you nod, chest heaving, and he stands upright again, hands clasped in front of his stomach. 
“What is it that you want?”
“I- I-” You babble, voice hoarse. He grins this time, dimples a perfect contrast to the image of authority in front of you. 
“It’s meant to be a confession, right?” He says, still smiling. You moan. The whole thing is so dirty, so debauched that you arch your back, thrusting your nipples out into the cool air. He doesn’t move his eyes off of yours, wholly unaffected. “Tell me what you want.”
Your eyes flicker down to his fingers, still clasped together. His gaze follows you, and he doesn’t say anything. You lick your lips. “Please, father.”
Jeongin hums, nods. “Get on the bed for me. On your front.” 
You move so quickly that it would’ve been embarrassing in any other situation. You’re on your front on the bed within seconds, and you spread your legs so he can see exactly what the situation is doing to you. You hear his stuttered breath, and then footsteps. He shoves his face into your drenched underwear and inhales, and you’re squealing, canting your hips back.
“Jeongin! Jeonginnie, that’s-”
He inhales again, pulling back. “It’s what? It’s dirty, baby?” He muses, running a fingertip up the seam of your folds through your panties. You’re so wet that your underwear must be translucent by now, and you gasp when the pad of his finger just barely breaches your hole, through the fabric. “I’ll tell you what’s dirty. Presenting this ass for your fucking priest is dirty.”
“Oh my god,” You wail, head dropping to shove your face against your forearms. “I-I’m dirty, father, I can’t help myself.”
“I can see that.”
His thumbs hook into your panties, and you hear them fall to the floor with an embarrassingly wet noise. The cold air hits your folds, a sensation so jarring that it feels like there’s something biting at the sensitive area between your legs, and you try - and fail - to avoid squirming. 
“How long has it been since your last confession?” Jeongin says, voice steady, and you blink. Before you can answer, two digits are sinking into your hole deep, and he curls them upwards to hit your g-spot. The feeling makes you whine, and your gummy walls clench on his fingers, gushing more and more slick down to his knuckles without him even properly moving them. “Tell me. How long has it been?”
“I don’t- I don’t know-”
“You wanted to do this properly, didn’t you?” He scoffs out a laugh, digits finally starting to piston inside of you. You keen, trying to grind your hips to get your clit some form of attention with how it’s aching and untouched.
“Yeah! I did, but- I can’t- Iyennie-”
“Father.”
“Father! Father, it’s been-” You really can’t think. You’re not sure what he means, but something within you tells you he’s referring to the last time you’d been such a whore, needy for his touch, and that had been literally yesterday. “It’s only been a day, father, please, please, more-”
“That’s right, a day,” He coos fondly, and his thumb finally, finally, moves down to rub against your clit. It’s messy, imprecise, but you wail and thrash as if it’s the best thing you’ve ever felt. It truly feels like it is. “I make you cum every single day, and you’re still a dirty little whore. You know what happens to bad girls, honey.”
“Hnng, no, I don’t know, I don’t know!”
“You don’t know many things, do you?” He sounds irritated now, his words coming out in clipped, short sentences. His thumb presses harder on your clit and his fingers somehow push deeper, all of their length pressing inside of you as the most delicious thing you’ve ever felt. “Bad girls take what they’re given.”
You have to. You can’t find it in you to respond, and when you get so close, so close that you can feel it beginning to rattle your teeth, his hand pulls away. You want to throw a tantrum, to stomp your feet and beg him for something, anything, but your orgasm is ruined before you can find it in you to speak. He's snickering behind you, and you moan in dismay.
“That’s one,” He murmurs, and you hear the wet sounds of him sucking his fingers clean. He spits on your asshole and you feel it dribble down to your pussy, adding to the mess between your folds, a wet patch forming beneath you on the sheets. You're out of breath, toes curling and relaxing, tears biting at your eyes. “I think two more edges and you can cum.”
794 notes · View notes
vyglitchcraft · 7 months
Note
Since requests are open, can you write for havik, shao, Scorpion and sub zero with a size kink SFW and NSFW headcanons? ʕʘ‿ʘʔ
YES BITCH I WILL, you have good taste in men hot DAMN also yes putting their canon heights just so you can imagine it (atleast before MK1 assuming they didn't change the height)
Sizing Up (18+)
MK1 Shao, Havik, Bi-Han, Kuai Liang x gen!reader size kink headcanons
Warning: Havik's section has mentions of gore and more extreme fetishes
General Shao (7'2 ft)
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SFW
This hunk of muscles love to show off his build, he is VERY proud of it. Like the type of douchebag in the gym that would flex in front of the mirror type of guy. And you love every second of it
He likes to show off, that's just a thing that Shao likes in every timeline. He likes to pick you up and just point out how small and light you are, how you're lucky to have him because someone can just pick you up and run off with you
He's a bit of a jerk but you should expect that when you dated him. He constantly teases you about your height and he'll make sure you will NOT forget that you're short. Jars on the highest shelf, every lid is screwed on a bit TOO tight, you can't seem to find any stools to stand on so that means only one thing, you're forced to ask him for help and he would HAPPILY do it with a shit eating grin on his face
He LOVES it when you do a size comparison between you and him, especially with your hands, he thinks its so precious that he can just hold both of your hands with only one of his
He went FERAL when he saw you in his clothes
NSFW
When i say this man is huge EVERYWHERE i mean it, you wouldn't be exaggerating when you compare it to your arm.
"Are you sure? I could break you" is something he constantly says. He loves to lay his cock right on top of your stomach, just admiring just how deep he could reach. Heck it scares you sometimes too, i mean who wouldn't?
But all those feelings are gone when you feel that delicious stretch as he slowly pushes his cock into you. He loves to compare you to a sex toy just because he could just hold your torso with one hand and just use you. He is VERY degrading in bed but god does he love you too.
"So pathetic, did it reach your brain too? Look at me while i use you" even when the two of you are doing it sitting down, you only reach his chest.
He loves to see the outline of his cock on your stomach, he's amazed that someone as small as you can take something that big.
You're practically getting tossed around from position to position, you're gonna get manhandled like a sack of potatoes
Havik (6'4 ft)
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SFW
Also messes with you but more just because it causes chaos. Although he doesn't care about his height unlike Shao, he is absolutely fixated by the fact that you're so small compared to him. He thinks you're adorable and wants to bite your head off.
Chews on your hair. You're probably the perfect height for him to lay his head on top of yours. Your hair gets into his mouth sometimes and he likes chewing on it.
He likes to hold onto you, he wants you to carry him around because he thinks it's funny that someone THAT small can carry a man his height. So yes you're here giving this man a piggy back ride while he chews on your hair. Look don't expect maturity from HIM of all people.
Also likes to carry you everywhere and put everything (including you) on a really high shelf, why? Because chaos.
"I can throw you" "Havik WHY" "what if i throw you across the arena so you can attack people from behind" "WHY WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT"
He's big but he acts like he's small, he either is NOT aware of his height or just does it to mess with you, could be both.
NSFW
Cute aggression but kinky. That's all i can say about him.
But anyway he likes to point out certain details that just make you want to cover your face. He appreciates that you're so easily pinned down. Your feet aren't touching the ground if you're getting fucked on a table or some other random surface.
Please be warned, the man has no filter. His dirty talk is explicit and isn't for the faint of heart.
Goes fucking FERAL when he sees your stomach bulging from his cock. How you can barely handle anything yet you do, easily too. He loves it. "I wonder if i pull out fast enough, i could pull your intestines inside out"
"I can feel myself hitting your lungs, do you like it?" he's exaggerating but he loves how you're basically choking from the pleasure. Although if you're genuinely uncomfortable or hurt, he will stop. As chaotic as he is, he doesn't want to see you hurt or at worst die.
Loves it when you're the dominant one though. He's a switch. He likes it when someone weak like you can overpower him (if you can't, he likes to pretend) you can do anything to him, he can regenerate any part of his body.
Bi-Han (6'2 ft)
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SFW
Overbearing as fuck. He treats you like you're just this small vulnerable rabbit. He feels the need to always protect you, i mean someone your size surely can't protect themselves right? That's why you have him! If you think he's overprotective, he's even more so when you're small
You're a porcelain doll to him, one wrong move and you'll be hurt. Although he's very gentle, he's also like a predator, almost a yandere. You're spoiled, he's the grandmaster, who's gonna stop him from using the Lin Kuei's money for you. But you ain't gonna do shit without him "protecting" you
Since every ninja is around 6'2 (except Tremor and Reptile i think) so you bet your ass you can't reach shit but don't worry, Bi-Han is there to help you. You won't be lifting a finger when he's around.
Oh but don't think he's all soft, his anger is fucked. He uses his size to intimidate people, standing behind you like a shadow. Or having you on his lap like a pet.
Your size means you're also easily movable. He uses this to his advantage to just carry you around or pick you up if he needs you.
NSFW
Again, predator/prey. He absolutely takes advantage of the fact that you're so weak compared to him. The way he can make you whine with one of his fingers, gives him an ego boost. "I can't wait to stretch you to the limits"
Everything about him screams possessive and the fact that you look so small and weak compared to him makes it even worse. The fact that he can just wrap his hand around your whole neck. The fact that you cry every time he fucks you, he lives for it.
He'll pin you down, bite you, everything that you'll love today but regret tomorrow. His grip is bruising but no worries, he'll make sure to take care of you after it. His hands would be cold enough to soothe the pain
Seeing you grip onto him, how he overpowers you and you're hugging him as if he's the only person that could keep you safe. God he could go another round just from seeing it.
Kuai Liang (6'2 ft)
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SFW
Not as obsessive as his brother, he's respectful. He loves you and he'll make sure you know it. He wants you to feel protected but not scared. Although he discourages you from fighting because he's scared that you'll get overpowered.
He's pretty self aware about his height but he won't make it your problem.
He LOVES it when you wear his clothes or any oversized shirt. He just wants to choke you with his chain and hug you until you can't breathe.
He likes to hold your face with both of his hands and just squish your cheeks. His hands pretty much cover your face. Oh and he doesn't mind carrying you everywhere he goes, it's embarrassing but if you want him to do it, he'll handle the teasing, as long as you're happy.
Does that thing where he just puts his hands on your face, grabbing your head like a basketball. He isn't really thinking about anything, he just does it sometimes. Also accidentally gained the reflex of having to crouch just to go face to face with you. Yes its a bit degrading but he'll snap out of it and go back to his normal position.
NSFW
The fact that you're so light and small compared to him makes it so easy for him to just pin you against a wall. He loves the sense of power that he has over you. You're so vulnerable and he could just defeat you.
To his dismay, he's pretty similar to his brother but much more merciful and less degrading. "So small, so weak, i could just break you"
He would tie you up with his chains and just let you warm up his cock, his big arms wrapping around your neck while he studies in his room. His hand would wander down, cupping your stomach or thighs. Feeling your head lean back on his chest while you beg for him to move.
In his mind, you're like a pocket pussy, a cute toy but he would never mention it. He has a filter but his mind does not. He would love to see you beg that he's too big, that it hurts, your hole not closing up after he's done with you, he wants to see it but he would never say it to you, its too embarrassing.
Your small frame when you go all limp after a session looks so adorable that he just wants to hold your hips down and use you until you're all loose and open. "I'll mold you into my shape, i need you to be mine" he pants out, biting your shoulder, he really is similar to his brother even if he denies it.
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jedi-starbird · 4 months
Text
A happier galaxy where the disaster lineage is somewhat less on fire constantly and senior padawan Obi-wan has developed a fixation on Mandalorians:
Sometimes Feemor regretted just how much he had given away when he had spent 5 expensive months bribing a traumatised Obi-wan to call him brother when he was 14. His dignity, for one, his access codes and shadow cloaking techniques, another. So he had a very dignified reaction when he was awoken to the shine of his younger brother's eyes in the dark at the foot of his bed. "I wou-stop screaming it's just me-I would like a Mandalorian. How do I procure one?"
"How the fuck should I know?"
Obi-wan scowled as if Feemor was being difficult, he wasn't, he wasn't quite awake enough for that yet. "You're a shadow, you're supposed to know things."
Ah, if being a shadow granted you the secrets of the universe instead of just a great many planetary governments, Feemor wouldn't spend so much time wondering what dark rituals Dooku had committed to result in Qui-gon Jinn. (He already knew what regular rituals Qui-gon had committed to result in Obi-wan)
"I know that I'm about to punt you out of my room right now."
"...My birthday is coming up, I believe I deserve compensation for all the traumas."
Obi-wan's eyes were very big now. Feemor sighed. He flopped back down into bed. He resisted the urge to pull his blankets back up and roll over. 'Oh sure when it's time to see mind healers everything's fine but now-'
"Shouldn't you be asking Master then?"
"Master would not approve of how I plan to use the Mandalorian."
He squinted at Obi-wan for a long moment. Obi-wan stared back. He did some quick mental maths and tried not to feel old. Eh. Fine. Feemor swung his legs out of bed. "You had me at 'Master wouldn't approve'."
"Do you think I could get one by walking into little Keldabe and asking very nicely?"
As it turns out, yes he could. A few too many in fact, apparently Jedi, their ancestral enemy, in the Mando district attracted attention, who knew? Feemor knew, Feemor would have known if only he had been properly awake when this semblence of a plan was proposed. He stalked through the cantina towards Obi-wan who was leaning slightly forwards against a pillar, ah...speaking, to a Mandalorian with painted orange armour while surrounded by a larger crowd of Mandos. At least they seem mostly amused. He ignored the youngers squawk as he yanked the back of his robes so that he moved away from the Mandalorian and spun him around.
"You cannot solve centuries of animosity by batting your eyelashes."
"I'm not batting my eyelashes " Obi-wan sniffed," I'm shaking my ass, there's decidedly more effort involved."
"I miss when I was an only child." Feemor sighed deeply. He used the force to scruff the neck of Obi-wan's robes and dangle him slightly in the air. He ignored the shouting from beside him and bowed politely to the staring Mandos. "My apologies for the disturbance, this will not happ-" He considered his brother who was now yelling out his personal comm code with a wink. " Please excuse us, this very probably will happen again, we shall workshop it. May the force be with you all."
I don't have a fully planned AU but it is Codywan!!! cause I love those bitches but have some more dialogue I came up with for this AU. I'm imagining them both as like 20-23, Obi's close to knighthood. He's still a padawan for this because I think him causing Qui-gon headaches is funny. Feemor fully thinks this complicated courtship dance Obi's created is funny, he likes studying his little brother like a bug, he just wasn't prepared for him to just waltz into little kelbade and start hitting on people, though he really should have been.
Hand wavy timeline with Jaster alive but the clones are still clones, Jango was kidnapped and held in stasis or something, Jaster claimed them as Mandos. This is really just about Obi's first and biggest diplomatic achivement being friendly Jedi-Mando relations purely cause he was in his thot era. This also somehow saves the galaxy from the sith.
I like to imagine that Cody's brothers recorded that little exchange between Fee and Obi on their helmets and uploaded it online where it went viral on MandoNet before going viral galaxywide because wait holy shit is that a Jedi saying that????. Qui-gon gets called in for a very weird meeting where the council's like ok so the entire holonet has seen your padawan being horny on main but also this is like the biggest jump in our diplomatic relationship with the Mandos in centuries so like can we keep this up somehow? This results in Obi-wan being holonet famous, first through vode recordings but then he starts a space tumblr and twitter account and he's famous now. Then his friends and other jedi start accounts because wait we're allowed to do that? and those become big as well and this is literally the best PR the jedi have had in hundreds of years. the holonet loves them. the sith are fuming.
Obi-wan, scoffing: What were they gonna do? Shoot me? Feemor: Yes. Obi-wan: I don't believe in blasters. Bly: ...like as a concept...? Obi-wan: No, spiritually.
Obi-wan: I'm sure there's a nice Mandalorian we can find for you Feemor: I'm not sure those 2 words belong together Obi-wan: No of course not, we can't find a nice one, then they'd be all alone, we need to find an absolute bastard of one so that you two match :)
Obi-wan: Oh so Master gets to take in pathetic life forms but I don't? This one's already domesticated! Wolffe: Debatable. Feemor: Cody's a person! Not a stray tooka! Obi-wan: Master takes in stray people all the time! That's how he got me!
Qui-gon: How do you explain this behaviour Padawan ? Obi-wan: The force pushed me towards the Mandalorians Master, it was quite insistent on me developing better relations with them given our difficult history. Feemor: Fascinating, please do elaborate, I'd love to hear the theological implications of a force-assigned kink.
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yourbestprincess · 6 months
Note
Uhhh this is so awkward to write but erm like can you write about jealous care sex with ellie
YES OF COURSE ANON!! :D
You’re mine.
Ellie Williams x fem reader smut! Dubcon, Ellie being aggressive and protective, Ellie beating the shit out of someone, Ellie is SO jealous, fingering, scissoring, Ellie eating reader out, Els being demanding as HELL. Kinda sorta proof read, I’ll read it again later :3 have fun!
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Ellie has always been the jealous type. Another girl looks at you? She’s getting death stares. If another girl touches you or better yet, flirts with you? She’s in the goddamn hospital. Ellie will do absolutely anything to help her sweet girl (you).
It was a pretty normal day, you and Ellie decided to go out shopping with you because god forbid you go out alone.
“Princess, wanna go into this store? Looks pretty cool.” She says as she points to a camping store. You giggle at such a thing. Of course Els would pick that store.
You give her your puppy eyes, “Okay, hehe.”
You guys walk into the store, and Ellies already in her own little world, looking at the hiking shoes.
After a couple minutes, another masc girl comes up to you.
“You need any help?” The girl smirks as she talks.
“I-uh…I think I’m okay.”
“You just look like a lost puppy, hun. Don’t want you to be all by yourself.” The woman places her index and thumb on your chin to force you to look at her. You turn your head to where Ellie is to get her attention. She’s already looking at you two, and she’s fucking pissed.
She walks over with a burning anger, her eyes fixated on you and her brows furrowed.
“The fuck you think you’re doing?” She growls at the woman holding you.
“This your lost puppy?” She drops her hand from your face as you hide behind Ellie.
“Get the fuck off of her before I rip your goddamn face off, bitch.” At this point you can hear Ellie’s heartbeat and you can feel the heat coming off of her.
“Maybe you shouldn’t leave your puppy out on display for the people that want her.” The woman shrugs
Ellie rolls up her sleeves and swings at the woman. She pushed Ellie way too much.
“Els!” You exclaim as you hold her back. The other woman tries to fight off Ellie but Ellie is too strong. “Ellie! Enough!” Ellie gets up and wipes off her bloody knuckles off on her pants.
She throws you over her shoulder and runs out of the store. “Ellie! What are you doing?!?”
“Don’t worry about it, princess.”
Eventually both of you get to Ellies car. She drops you off in the passenger seat. You watch Ellie get into the drivers seat as she gives you a stern look. Is she…jealous..or upset?
You finally get to Ellie’s house as she demands you to get out.
“Go to my room. Now. This is your only warning, baby.” She tries to keep her composure.
You rush to her room, taking off your clothes until you’re only wearing panties, luckily you wore her favorite pair. You grab one of her shirts off the ground, throw it on, lay on her bed, and wait for her to come.
“Good girl.” She says, eyeing you down. She always turns you on when she looks at you with such lust…
“Anything for you, Els…”
She climbs onto the bed, putting herself in between your thighs. She pushes your panties to the side so that she has access to your sweet spot. She licks her middle and ring finger before ruthlessly pumping them inside of you.
“Els! Oh~ it’s too much…t’ much Ellie…” you whimper and cry out.
“Shhh, princess. You’re gonna take it like a good girl.” She growls, which makes you moan even more now.
“So good for me, baby.” She removes her fingers, making you whimper and feel empty. She licks one of her fingers. “So sweet, princess. You taste so good.”
“Ellie-“ before you can finish your words, her face is in your pussy. “Oh my- Els…”
Ellie mumbles something but it’s too muffled to hear anything. She roughly sucks on your clit while harshly fingering your g spot.
You can feel your orgasm building from everything she’s doing. “Ellie! I can’t take it! Please-“
Ellie rips her fingers out and lifts her head up. “Nope. You’re not cumming until I fucking say so.”
You go silent, obeying her. She gets off of the bed and takes her pants off. You hear the zipper of her jeans and you immediately know your gonna be crying by the end of this.
“Take those panties off. Now.” You obey, quickly sliding them off and tossing them to the side.
She gets back on the bed, pushing your legs apart and putting herself in between them. She grabs your hand and pushers your middle and ring fingers into her sopping cunt.
“Fuckkk yes, thats it princess. Tell me what you need me to do for you.” She barley makes out from getting finger-fucked by you.
“Need you to fuck me Els…please.” You look up at her and she could never say no to you when you look like this.
She positions herself to line up her pussy to yours. She starts grinding herself on you. Both of your moans fill up the room.
“Don’t you ever fucking let another girl talk to you or touch you like that. You’re mine.”
You nod you head, feeling your orgasm come close.
“Els! I’m so close, please..”
“Me too baby. Cum for me, be a good girl and cum for me sweet girl.”
As soon as she said that, both of your orgasms come crashing down, moaning in each others mouths as you kiss.
“Good job, princess. You feel so good. Sorry if I was a little rough…think I got a little jealous.”
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shellshocklove · 10 days
Text
dirty work | joel miller
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(gif by me)
pairing/AU: daddy!joel miller x female!reader - no outbreak
summary: joel's work has been a bitch the last few weeks and he's tired, but it's nothing you can't fix.
warnings: this is an 18+ fic so minors dni!!! swearing, use of pet names, smut with a dash of fluff, lap sitting, daddy!dom!joel, praise with a dash of degradation, handjob, cockwarming, use of sex toys, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, creampie, no use of y/n
a/n: this is just a short smut idea i wanted to write. minimal editing done here btw so if you see any mistakes, no you didn't 🥰
masterlist / ao3
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At the sound of a key turning, you lifted your head from the couch pillow.
Tapping at your phone resting on your chest, you noticed it was an hour later than he’d promised – not that you were surprised. Joel hadn’t been home earlier than nine o’clock for weeks as his new client had turned out to be on another level of demanding and indecisive. Every morning he’d woken up before six and left you with a kiss to your forehead long before your own alarm would ring.
Finally home, his heavy work boots scraped against the tiles in the hallway, before you heard the thud of his tool bag hitting the floor followed by a tired sigh. Pushing yourself to rest on your elbow you peeked over the armrest of the couch.
“Did the wife change her mind again?” you asked in a raised voice, lowering the volume on the reality show you’d been half-watching since dinner.
With heavy footsteps he padded into your living room and an ache settled in your chest as you took him in. His hair was ruffled and messy, and his eyes drooped at the corners. With a groan Joel dropped down next to you on the couch. Shifting your weight to sit up properly, you moved your blanket a little out of the way to move closer to your tired man. He didn’t answer right away, his palms coming up to rub at his eyes as an exasperated sigh escaped his lips.
“That goddamn woman had her sister visitin’ this weekend ‘nd now she wanna change everythin’, again.” He breathed out another heavy sigh, before his palms came down on his thighs with a dull smack!
“Are you serious?” you shook your head and shifted even closer, your knees brushing against his denim clad thigh.
“’m afraid so, baby,” he said and let his head fall against the back of the couch, his eyes trailing a pattern in the ceiling.
Shifting on your knees you sunk into his side, letting your head fall to rest on his shoulder, while you snaked your hand across his broad chest to pull him closer in a hug. Almost like a reflex Joel lifted his arm to wrap around you.
“Can’t you let Tommy take the lead on this project? This much work isn’t healthy, Joel,” you spoke into his t-shirt, breathing in that familiar smell of him – the smell of faded cologne, sawdust and sweat.
“If I wanna get fired, maybe. Tommy already offended that woman weeks ago sayin’ some shit about how indecisive she was– not that he was wrong but…” he trailed off, instead he hooked his arm under your knees to pull your legs over his lap. Tilting your head slightly you watched his eyes, how they fixated on his hand now resting over the thick of your thigh, his finger brushing small circles over the fabric of your lounge wear as thoughts swiveled in his head.
“Anyway, it’ll be done in a few weeks– I just gotta push through and it’s good money,” he concluded after a beat, his hand flexing before coming down on your thigh in a small pat.
You hummed, squeezing him closer to your body. “I just wish you didn’t need to work so hard– I’ve missed you.”
You felt the softest touch of a kiss to the top of your head at your confession, and it made a smile wash over your features. “I’ve missed you too, baby.” Joel said, his voice muffled through more presses of small light kisses.
His hand resting over your thigh traveled up your body, like he was trying to remember what you felt like again. A calloused finger landed under your chin, the pad rough from a lifetime of hard work, to tilt your head upwards. A smile tugged at your lips, and you knew what he wanted. Locking eyes with him, the world seemed to bleed at the corners, before it all seemed to focus on nothing but him when he dipped down to brush his lips over yours. You keened into him, keened into his touch, keened into the way his mustache tickled your cupid’s bow in just the right way.
“Missed you real bad.”
The deep rumble of his voice vibrated through your body, igniting a want that had laid dormant all these weeks. A content breathy sigh escaped your lips when he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing over the seam of your lips to lick into your mouth. Grasping for something to tether yourself to, your hand found the thick muscle of his bicep.
When you’d both stolen each other’s breaths for too long, Joel started pressing kisses down your jaw to the column of your neck – nipping at the sensitive skin before soothing it over with his tongue.
“Want ya so bad, baby– missed that tight pussy around my cock.”
You whined at his confession, your body involuntarily squirming as the deep bass in his voice whispering in your ear, sent shivers down your spine.
“Missed you too,” you managed to breathe out, “Missed you too, Daddy.”
A deep groan rumbled in Joel’s chest when that word fell from your lips, and soon he’d hooked a hand under your leg to hoist you into his lap. A giggly squeal fell from your lips at his manhandling, but you couldn’t deny how much it turned you on – to let him have his way with you, to let him take what he wanted, what he needed.
Less than a second later, his mouth was on you again, his lips pressed hard against your own as both his hands fell to rest over your ass. Under you, you felt the familiar shape of his cock harden, and you couldn’t help but buck your hips, feeling a surge of arousal pool in your tummy.
“There you go, sweetheart, good girl,” he mumbled between kisses, urging you on “grind on Daddy’s cock, baby, that’s it– just like that.”
Wrapping your hands around his neck to steady yourself, you broke away from his lips. The building pleasure felt so good already, and you had to duck your face into his neck to hide the small whines from falling from your lips. A heavy hand came down on your back, to hold you closer as he soothed over your skin.
It all felt so good, Joel felt so good, so safe. The rough denim of his jeans rubbed perfect over your clit, and you could feel the pressure of an orgasm coiling in on itself in your core.
Chasing that high, your movements got slightly needier, not as practiced and steady, and Joel sensed the shift in you. “Good girl, baby– you’re such a good girl for Daddy,” he praised, the words tickling your ear. He knew just what to say to make you wet, and needy for him. The gusset of your panties now soiled in your dripping arousal.
“Please, Daddy,” you whimpered, but you didn’t know what for. For him to allow you to cum? For him to have his way with you? For him to fuck you? All of the above?
“Please, what, honey? What’d you need?” Joel coaxed; his voice laced with condescending pity.
“Please, I need to feel you– feel your cock inside,” you whined into his neck, any modesty inside you had melted away as soon as he’d pulled you into his lap.
“Yeah?” he murmured gently, and you could only nod – your brain too empty to focus on anything other than Joel. “But Daddy’s tired, baby, he’s had a long day.”
The whine escaping you made Joel laugh, the deep rumbling of his laugh vibrated against your chest. He was playing with you, you knew that, but it had been so long since you’d been fucked by him – over a week – and desperate didn’t even begin to cover how you felt right now.
“I’ll tell ya what, pretty girl, Daddy’s got an idea,” he told you, with a gentle smack! to your ass. You sat up a little and shifted yourself down his thighs slightly, before your eyes, laced with curiosity, found his dark ones. “Why don’t you go get the wand from our bedroom, and Daddy’ll take care of ya, huh?” he posed; his large hand cupping your cheek.
“O-okay,” you nodded, a little confused about his plans. Didn’t he just say he wanted you?
There was no need in questioning him. You already knew whatever idea he had in store for you tonight, he’d make you feel good. So, like the good girl you wanted to be, you did as you were told.
When you got back to the living room Joel were still sat in the same spot on the couch, but in your absence he’d undone his jeans. With one arm slung over the back of the sofa, his legs spread wide, he watched you as he wrapped a large hand around himself to stroke at his impressive cock in lazy strokes.
“Come sit in my lap, baby,” he gestured with his other hand.
Just as you were about to straddle him again, he stopped you with a hand on your hip; his finger hooking roughly into your sweatpants.
“Off,” he ordered and took the wand from your hand.
Again, like a good girl, you did as you were told.
Turning around a small giggle fell from your lips when you decided to put on a little show for him. Slowly, and teasingly, you hooked your fingers into the elastic of your sweatpants, pulling them down slowly to reveal your underwear while you wiggled your ass sightly back and forth. A knuckle brushed over the curve of you; making you jump from the sudden touch before a smile blossomed across your face.
“Pretty, baby,” you heard him murmur, “such a pretty girl.”
Then his finger hooked into the elastic of your panties to pull them down to expose your wet and needy cunt for him. Biting down on your bottom lip, you fought to hide the moan threatening to escape when you felt the wide pad of his thumb run from your hole down through your slick folds, spreading you apart for him.
“Lookit this pretty pussy– it wants some attention, doesn’t it? It’s drippin’ for me and I ain’t even touched it yet– poor thing.” Joel said it softly, but there was still with a hint of condescension in his voice, “Been so long since Daddy’s taken care of you, hasn’t it?”
You grinded your ass into his hand, “Yes, please touch me, Daddy.” Looking at him over your shoulder, you put on your best puppy-eyes and exaggerated pout. Maybe it was over the top and silly, but it pulled a breathy laugh from Joel.
“Alright, pretty girl,” he conceded, and wrapped a large hand around your waist to turn you around.
“Come here… Spread those pretty legs apart f’me.”
He pulled you down in his lap, your legs spreading wide across his thick thighs and putting your dripping core on full display for him. Small currents of electricity cursed through you as your whole body buzzed with anticipation of what would come next. Of what Joel’s idea was. Flitting your eyes nervously to the wand he’d tossed aside beside him, your head spun, conjuring up all kinds of dirty scenarios.
When Joel was pleased with how you were seated in his lap, his right hand came up to cup your chin and angle your face towards him. His dark eyes shone with lust, but it was clouded over like a veil; you knew him well enough at this point to recognize the affection behind it. Like a reflex it made the corner of your lips pull up into a smile, a smile straining against his loose grip on your chin.
“What you smilin’ about, huh?” he questioned, head tipping in a curious tilt.
“Nothing,” you smiled.
“Nothin’, huh? Don’t look like nothin’ to me,” he shook your head playfully with no real force; just moving your head in his hand.
“Just love you is all,” you shrugged. It was the truth after all.
Your confession pulled a smile over Joel’s face; the dark black in his eyes giving way for a lighter loving brown for just a second.
“I love you too, baby,” he said and leaned forward to place a quick peck to your lips.
He pulled away too quickly for your liking and you whined, chasing after his lips, but Joel only chuckled at you, keeping your chin cupped in his hand. Leaning closer to your face again, you thought he’d grant you another kiss, your pathetic whining having won him over. Instead, he bumped his nose against yours and whispered against your lips, “Touch my cock, baby.”
A breath hitched in your throat, the low rumble of his voice searing through your body and making your blood run hot with arousal. It clouded your mind, and you almost had to take a second to understand what he’d just told you. Joel turned you on so bad, the bubbling warmth of arousal in your core now having turned into an almost painful ache. You didn’t want him anymore, you needed him.
When your brain finally caught up, your hands moved by their own accord, wrapping one around his aching cock, while the other steadied yourself on his shoulder. His cock was so big, always so big. The first time he’d had you on your back, you’d wondered how it was even gonna fit inside you, but now, now your cunt ached to be filled by him just at the sight of him in your hand.
Joel fell back against the couch cushions, the hand on your chin travelling down your body to rest over the thick of your thighs. “That’s right, baby, you take that cock in your hand, that’s a good girl,” he praised, while his fingers traced encouraging shaped into your bare skin, “Spit on Daddy’s cock– get it nice and wet.”
Leaning forward slightly you let a blob of spit spill from your lips and drip down to coat his thick head. Your eyes were laser focused on your task at hand, wanting nothing more than for Joel to feel good after such a stressful few days. Skating your thumb over the head, you mixed your spit with the precum that had started to pearl at his tip. It dripped down over your hand, and you tightened your grip slightly before you started moving your hand.
Up and down. 
Mesmerized at the movement of your hand and the wet squelch filling the air between you as you jerked your hand in a steady rhythm, you did your best to make him feel good.
“Just like that– that’s a good girl,” Joel praised in between strained grunts.
You had to bite down on your bottom lip to keep a wide grin to blossoming across your face as every small grunt and praising encouragement circled around your heart in a dizzying warmth. You touched him how you knew he liked it, setting a steady pace but also making sure to grip him a little tighter at the base, and massage the tip between strokes. You were detriment to make him come. He deserved it, you quietly decided to yourself.
Joel must’ve not agreed with you, because suddenly he was pulling your hand away, “That’s enough for now.”
The pout was on your lips before you knew it, and as soon as Joel noticed he raised an unimpressed eyebrow at you.
“No pouting, or Daddy’ll have to punish you,” he reprimanded, his hand on your thigh gliding over your skin to cup your ass in a tight grip. You jumped at the sudden touch, before you grinded your ass into his hand. It made Joel shake his head.
“Stand,” he ordered suddenly with a tap to your ass cheek, “and turn ‘around f’me.”
You let him maneuver you however he wanted, and soon you were sitting – half-way laying – with your back resting against his chest while he rocked his hard cock between the seam of your ass.
“Listen up,” he spoke into your ear, and you had to contain yourself to not squirm in his lap. “You’re gonna sit nice and pretty on Daddy’s cock and let Daddy have a little fun with this toy of yours– ain’t that sound good?” he cooed.
You couldn’t do anything other than nod, your head twisting into his neck. You felt like you were starting to burn up from the inside from the arousal that had continuing to build and build and build.
“Nuh-uh, need your words, pretty girl,” he said with a tap to your waist.
“Yes,” you breathed out, “please, Daddy! I’ll let you do whatever you want.”
You knew those words were the ones he wanted to hear. It was why the sex with Joel was as great as it was. You understood quickly that the control he wanted, the control he took, in the bedroom gave him a break from a stressful and unpredictable world. He craved it just as much as you craved for him to take it. You trusted him like no other human you knew; he knew you better than yourself, knew where your limits were, and how to push them just right.
After you sigh of consent, everything after was a blur of pleasure. He helped you lower yourself inch by inch down on his cock. The stretch of him always overwhelming, as the thick girth of him split you open in a delicious burn.
“That’s a good girl,” he praised in your ear, the words like sweet honey. “Feels good doesn’t it, baby?”
With him fully seated inside you, you could finally breathe. Nodding in a sigh of delirious pleasure, you reveled in the bliss of being so close to him, to feel the strong grip of his arm around you, and his large cock inside. In Joel’s arms, your thoughts and stress of the dying day, wilted away.
After a beat, you pulled yourself together and shifted in Joel’s lap; ready to start moving on his cock. His grip around your torso tightened at your movement, his breath tickling the back for your ear.
“What did I tell you, baby? Told you to sit nice and pretty on Daddy’s cock, didn’t I?” he reprimanded.
You didn’t have time to tell him you were sorry – you thought he wanted you to make him come – before he’d pressed the head of the wand hard against your neglected clit. You jumped in his arms from the sudden stimulation, your cunt clamping around his cock as a small squeal escaped you from surprise.
“Shh, sweetheart,” he cooed in your ear, “you can take it baby.”
You couldn’t, actually.
Not a second later, the intensity of the vibration had you coming on his cock. All the pent-up teasing, breaking like a dam of an orgasm, washing over you.
“There you go– squeeze your cunt on Daddy’s cock, let me feel you come all over it like a good slut.” You almost didn’t hear Joel over the overwhelming ecstasy of your first orgasm of the night.
Turning down the vibrations slightly Joel let you come down to earth again, but he never pulled the wand from your cunt. He made sure to hold it steady, easing up on the pressure with slow circles, before he pushed it a little firmer against your clit again.
“This is Daddy’s pussy, isn’t it?” he spoke into your ear, voice low and husky.
“Yes,” you whispered with a rock of your hips, “all yours, Daddy.”
Taking the hint, he turned up the vibrations again. It was intense, all your effort concentrated on the feel of Joel’s cock filling you up so perfectly while he quickly brought you closer to the edge of another orgasm. You couldn’t do anything other than take it – take what he was giving you, take the filth he was spilling into your ear.
“Y’hear how wet you are, baby? Your pussy soakin’ Daddy’s cock?” he emphasized with a shallow trust of his cock inside you  – the first movement of his cock since you’d sat down on him.
“Such a naughty little slut.”
“Is that too much f’you, sweetheart?”
With no warning you were coming again, your body trembling in his lap as Joel hushed your whiny moans and breathy mewls.
“Oh, my pretty girl’s comin’ again? Already? Don’t take much does it?” he chuckled.
A heat of embarrassment coated your cheeks at his degrading words, the realization of his words catching up with you as you came down. With a bite to your bottom lip, you leaned back into his neck. To hide? You didn’t know, but Joel wouldn’t have it either way. Sitting up a little a hand wrapped around your chin in a steady grip, angling your head to look between your spread legs.
“Nuh-uh, you watch what Daddy’s doing to his pussy.” He emphasized his words with a hard press of the wand to your clit, making you moan loudly. Your pussy looked a mess. Slick wet arousal had gathered in the thatch or hair at the top of your mound, the head of the wand glistening with you as Joel moved it expertly over your poor puffy clit.
“You’re gonna give Daddy another one, we clear?”
“O-okay,” you managed to stutter out. The intensity of the vibrations combined with your ever-increasing sensitivity now almost too much to handle.
“Repeat it,” he ordered, circling the wand perfectly over your clint.
A strangled moan escaped your throat before you could let a single word out. “I’m gonna come again for you, Daddy.”
“Yes, pretty girl, that’s right,” he confirmed with a rock of his hips. The tip of his cock nudged perfectly against your spot inside, and with the way he circled the wand, you were already tethering on the edge.
“But you come only when Daddy says. Wanna feel that that perfect pussy come as I fill you up with my cum– because that’s what you need isn’t it? Daddy’s cum inside?”
“Yes,” you moaned in a hitching breath.
He was so mean for making you talk when you were this close to tipping over again for him. Gathering all your self-control you held on for dear life to not come before Joel had given you permission. You gripped a hand around his elbow, your hand moving with his as you felt the vibrations from the wand travel through you. You were squirming now, and you were sure that if you didn’t come in the next few seconds you’d die.
In your ear Joel’s heavy breaths got more labored. “Y’want Daddy to fill up this messy pussy with his cum?”, he panted in your ear, his hips rocking into yours, “Then you have to be a good little slut and come again f’me.”
As the last syllable left his lips, everything melted together in a mixture of Joel. Squirming in his lap, you clenched hard around his cock as you came. The slick of your numerous orgasms dripped from your hole split opened by his cock, and down the heavy sack of his balls.
“That’s it,” he praised, “That’s a good girl– take all that cum inside.” His cock twitched as he emptied himself inside your cunt, painting your walls and finally filling you up with his cum like he’d promised. You had no choice but to take it – not that you’d wanted it anywhere else.
When your breath started to come back to normal, and your heartbeat slowed, you managed to tap tiredly at Joel’s hand. He was still pressing the wand to your clit making you squirm away from the vibrations – this time it was too much.
“Joel,” you warned in a high-pitched voice.
Joel loved to push your limits, but he was never cruel about it. With an endearing chuckle, he turned the wand off and tossed it aside on the couch cushion before he wrapped both his hands around you.
“I think I could’ve pushed another from ya,” he teased with a playful bite to your ear.
Inside you, you could feel his cock softening as his heavy release started to drip out down the length of him.
With a breathy laugh you leaned deeper into his chest,
“You can always push another from me.”
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i hope someone liked this? if you did a comment, reply or an ask is always welcome and they make me super happy <3 other than that thank you for reading!!
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Text
The One With the Blouse (1/2)
Part 1/2
Wolfstar x reader      Sirius Black x reader      Remus Lupin x reader      Sirius Black x Remus Lupin      Sirius Black x reader x Remus Lupin 
Established couple (throuple)
Summary: Reader cares about how people see her, tensions boil over when the group get ready for a Gryffindor party
Warnings:
Angst (argument)
Hurt (and minimal comfort…)
Lots of insecurity, feeling disposable in a relationship
my first fic ever so please be kind…will potentially write a part 2 if people like this one (feedback is welcomed)
word count: 1.8k
Sirius looks so pretty in his white blouse. The silk brings out his dark hair perfectly, and the fabrics warm undertones complimented his pale skin. “Is all the fuss really necessary?” Sirius asked, bothering with the bow neckline of the blouse.
“You want to look good, don’t you?” You respond stiffly, tying, and re-tying the bow, unsatisfied with how it sits around his neck. 
“You forgot to Iron it.”, you say, Tying, untying, re-tying. Completely zeroed in.
“Does it really matter?” Sirius responds, completely exasperated.
Remus watches on from the armchair by his bed. It’s standard routine at this point. Before every common room party, Remus is ready by dinner - always a plain top and trousers, today a white T-shirt with blue jeans. “Very James Dean”, Sirius had said. He's been sitting there entirely patient on the same armchair for the past two hours, reading only half attentively as you and Sirius get ready.
“Sweetheart, the bow is fine”, Remus advises gently. He’s not in a rush, but he can tell that as much as you usually enjoy it, today the up-doing process is stressing you out. 
“No..no, not yet”, you respond absentmindedly, still fixated on Sirius’s blouse. 
Tying, untying, re-tying the bow. Sirius huffs out a humourless laugh and takes a quick step back turning completely away from you. Your hands are still held up, frozen where his neck would be. Your eyebrows furrow, and Remus looks up from his book.
“It’s the same every bloody time!”, Sirius suddenly cries out, you’re completely taken aback. 
“Sirius”, Remus warns.
“Godric, Forgive me! I didn’t iron my fucking blouse!”, he feigns, “You’re suffocated me” he finishes, coldly, glaring daggers straight through you. He’s still so beautiful, with his ebony hair hanging long and dark over his face, but the pit in your stomach is somehow darker. 
Remus is stood to his full height now, book abandoned. “You’re out of line”, his anger still somehow contained. And Sirius has the gall to let out a laugh. The party in the common room seems to have started. You can hear music and laughing below the bluestone floors. You try and divert your focus to that lively sound and take it off the painful bob in your throat. 
“I’m out of line? You’re kidding Moony”, Sirius laughs. his lack of sincerity is incredibly unnerving. “The bitch is vapid”, and your heart nearly stops, you can feel the sick climbing up your throat. Remus is seething, but you’re not sure he knows exactly what to say anyway. 
“What?”, is all you can muster hopelessly. 
Sirius takes a step towards you, and you all seem to move at once. You take one step back at the same time Remus steps between you and the shorter boy.
“Cut it out Sirius”, Remus warns, towering above the both of you with his height, and his domineering demeanour. But Sirius is undeterred.
“You. are. entirely. vapid”, he repeats, now looking over at you past Remus’s shoulder. “you’re just like my mother” he whispers to himself, like some sort of secret revelation, and you just want it all to end. “Completely superficial, shallow, and entirely vapid” he seethes, before turning back away from you again, taking in a slow deep breath. You think you can hear his heart beating nearly just as quick as yours.
Sirius’s accusation sits inside you. You can’t deny that you do like nice things. Your jewellery was all made custom, you shopped at the best boutiques on Diagon Alley, and you kept up appearances. 
Your parents have always been devastatingly high-achieving. You were no stranger to the odd charity gala, or pureblood ball. So, for you that meant endless expectations to live up to. Making sure clothes were ironed, hair was done right and shoes were all polished was just second nature. You pay attention to these things because you have to. Your label as a “washed-up-witch” in Witch Weekly’s coverage of the Macmillan ball in 72 serves as a reminder. Filtered through pre-teen public humiliation, these things stick. As deflated as you felt regarding Sirius’s outburst, you could feel an equal anger bubbling just below the surface. 
“You did not just compare me to your draconian fanatic of a mother”, is the first thing that leaves your lips. Your eyes are wide, and that anger is bubbling over. Yet, your voice is so level that you think you just might have the upper hand. You can tell that Sirius was expecting you to respond with equal fervour, he wanted a fight, and your composure has caught him off guard. You think for a second, maybe he didn’t even mean to hurt you. 
Remus would back you up if you needed him to, but he knows you really don’t need him to. You’d like to say your piece, and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze in support.
“Just because you can afford to reject tradition and expectation doesn’t mean we all have that luxury” you seethe.
Sirius has always had the reputation of a Black Sheep, but it made him shine nevertheless. Every act of rebellion on his part was praised and admired by your peers. But as a woman in the 70s, and the only child in a pureblood family - you were often subject to incomparable scrutiny.
“Maybe I’m too much sometimes” your voice breaks, and the tears have started to flow of their own accord now. Rushing like silent broken faucets, or shower heads. Sirius’s eyes flash with regret. You look up at the ceiling to blink them back, and Remus gives your hand another squeeze, silently shaking his head and biting his tongue. He’s glaring at Sirius with a healthy mixture of disappointment, and something akin to fury.
“I can’t help but care about how I look”, you whisper to no one in particular, “This is usually fun, getting dressed up together”, and Sirius looks completely in despair. That almost cocky, goading aura that surrounded him has been evaporated by your undeniable heartbreak. He’s fidgeting with the hem of the blouse now, and his fingers move hesitantly up to his neckline, where your hands sat only moments ago. He’s palming at the skin there, as it slowly turns pink from the pressure.
“I’m only fussy because I care, Sirius”, you say wavering, lip quivering as your crying takes both your eyes, and your voice. He can’t look you in the eye.
The subtext isn’t missed by either of the boys, you care because you love them. You enjoy dressing them up because you want them to look good and enjoy themselves. To protect them from any anxiety associated with landing on a worst dressed list, even informally among the Gryffindor party-goers three flood below.
You look down at your disco boots, perfect stockings and shift dress. It all feels so silly now, wearing the outfit you picked out three days in advance. You want to crawl out of your skin, and you really don’t feel like dancing. Sirius is still palming at his collarbones, staring with dazed and shallow eyes at his feet and the floor below them. You can’t see his face properly behind his hair, but you know him well enough to think he might be crying too. “I hope you’re proud of yourself Black” Remus chimes in, and you wince at the use of that last name. Remus’s hand rubs small circles around the back of your neck, you can't help but want his hot skin off you.
“I-I didn’t-”, Sirius starts, but you walk from the room with Remus quick at your heels before he can finish. 
The stairway down to the common room is empty, with the party building up below. It’s just you and Remus standing still on the stairs. “You know he didn’t mean that”, Remus says kindly, more for your sake than Sirius’s. He’s brushing the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, and gently pushing the hair back from around your face. “He gets like this when he’s stressed, it’s not your fault”, he reassures, kissing the top of your head. 
“I stressed him, I should have just let him be”, you whisper, and Remus is silent. This is the first big fight you've had as a couple. You’re a slightly more recent addition to their pairing. Quips and little disagreements have never been an issue. Even when you were all just friends these things were always resolved in a matter of minutes - or a few hours at most, but this is the first time a spat has ended in tears. 
You wonder if this was a mistake. You hope to Godric that Remus isn’t thinking it too. “I think I’ll go to bed”, you say finally, and you can feel him frown. 
“But you were so excited for tonight” he says sadly, more of an acknowledgment, you know he doesn’t mean to change your mind. You’re all hardly in the mood for a party.
“Maybe you and Sirius can still have some fun”, and you hope it doesn’t come across as bitter, but Remus’s solemn expression suggests otherwise, he lets it go.
“I’ll talk to him”, Remus assures, as he molds his body around yours in a much-needed embrace. Having him so close stirs a vulnerability within you, and you’re sure that if you could see his face, you wouldn't have the courage to open your mouth. 
“Maybe we were wrong”, you whisper into his chest, scared. 
Remus is burning 20 degrees hotter.
“What makes you say that?”, he responds measured, but the unease in his voice is palpable. He’s pulled back to look at your face now, and you fidget under his gaze. You give him a look to say without words, ‘are you kidding?’.
“But you know we love you”, Remus says desperately, more of a question than a statement, gripping the sides of your head firmly, so as to say, ‘please believe me’. You just shake your head between his hands. “You heard him, didn’t you?”, you start, “Completely superficial, shallow, and entirely vapid” you quote, and Remus cringes. 
“I’ll talk to him”, he repeats.
“No, no its okay, I’m going to bed”, you say, almost completely defeated by the tidal wave of self-doubt flooding through you.
“Dove-”
“How about you talk to him, and you two can decide what we do from here”, Remus looks heartbroken at the implication.
“Surely you don’t think we don’t want to see you anymore?”, There seems to be something sparkly welling in his eyes too, Godric, what a horrible evening.
You’re so in your head you hardly register Remus’s question. When he goes to pull you close again you take a small step back, your fingers still interlinked. The moonlight shines in through the stained glass, and the sparkle of salt in Remus’s eyes begins to fall. You can hear Diana Ross’s smooth voice echoing off the stone from downstairs, tonight could have gone so differently. You can’t help but feel you’ve caused all this. Whatever animosity Sirius seems to have been harbouring towards you, you’re sure it lives inside Remus too, even if you can’t see it yet. You turn around before you have the chance to look back.
“I’m going to bed”.
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ovaryacted · 3 months
Note
*clears throat* subspace!Leon. That is all
MDNI/18+. NSFW.
Yeah, yeah…yeah. Let’s fucking cook for a second. (I’m gonna write this out in a rush at work so if it’s choppy I’m sorry lmao).
Let me set the scene: Leon completely fucked out and a mess after feeling so good. It doesn’t matter what exactly was done, what position he’s in, whether he’s on top or more on the receiving end. He’ll just turn into a whiney mess and craves more attention and affection. If he’s in missionary, he’d dig his face into your neck and wrap his arms around you, probably start crying and mumbling in your ear because he has no filter when he’s in subspace. He says the first thing that comes to mind: I love you, you feel so good, more more more. His inhibitions are just completely unrestricted, and he gets clingy and more desperate even if he’s the one fucking you.
But if you’re the one fucking him? That’s another story.
Whether that’s you riding him without stopping, edging him, or fucking him with the strap, he’s a goner. Leon isn’t used to being so pliable, to be put in the position to just receive. Pulling on his hair or biting at his ear will send him into a frenzy, touching him any which way after he’s climaxed twice makes his mind go blank. Every part of him is sensitive and hyperaware, twitching and on edge the more you do or say to him. He can’t think, can’t speak, can’t describe how he feels or can verbally say what he wants. He just lets you use him in a way, wants you to get off because what helps you reach that edge is what arouses him by default.
Leon would have his hands everywhere, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, all glassy and unfocused. Tears would be rolling down his flushed cheeks, and his breathing is just so shaky, his chest rising and falling with every groan and whimper he releases. The moment he hits the edge of overstimulation, his brain just stops working, talks incoherently under his breath and continues to whine like a bitch in heat.
You’d have to be gentle with him, make sure he doesn’t slip too far because he can. Leon finds comfort in the lack of control, in the ability to no longer have to think and have someone else lead. It’s what he wants, what he needs, what he craves.
His lips would be everywhere too, having an oral fixation he needs to have something in his mouth to calm down or to stay present in the moment. Your favorite thing to do is to guide his face towards your chest, letting him suck at your nipples while you run your fingers through his hair as you fuck him. He whimpers when he gets to do that, just sucks on them comfortingly and hums mindlessly as he does. If he’s really that deep into subspace, he’ll call you Mommy under his breath and will get upset if you pull him away from your chest too soon.
After you’re done with him, it’s all softness and affection for the rest of the time. Gently caressing his body, telling him affirmations and words of love and affection as he comes back from the immense high. You don’t rush Leon from the comedown, and depending on how intense it is, he’ll need more attention or more time with you for reassurance and comfort. Anything he needs, you’re willing to provide, because it’s what he deserves and because you love him. Simple as that. You make him feel safe and loved in his arms, and it’s so easy for him to slip away into sleep knowing you’d be there in the morning when he wakes up.
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clubkira · 8 months
Text
SANTANNY.
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bitch, take off your panties, huh. ( 18 + )
content. cockwarming bokuto & strip teasing akaashi.
note. smut. 18+ fem!reader. no use of y/n. petnames (baby + angel). lowercase intended. post-timeskip. restraints. unprotected sex. repost / edit of an older work.
soundtrack. santanny — bktherula.
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bokuto has a lot of extra energy to expend.
he is forever cursed with the incapability of sitting still for more than two seconds without doing something to keep himself occupied, be it fidgeting in his seat or rubbing your thumb in his hands when your fingers are interlocked with one another’s.
he has a love hate relationship when your pretty little pussy's walls are wrapped around his cock, clamping down on his dick hungrily while he can't move or touch you unless he wants that warmth to disappear in an instant.
his whines turn an octave higher the longer you cockwarm him, forbidding him from touching you until he reaches his breaking point. creaming all over himself as you fuck his cum into your pussy while riding out your high on his dick.
it's the highest level torture for him, yet it turns him on just as much as it pains him.
he can't help how needy he is for you, nor how much he loves it when you cockwarm him despite his whines.
"baby, please…" bokuto pleads from underneath you, tears pooling in his eyes as his shaky hands hover just above your hips desperately while you straddle him, his thick cock buried deep within your velvety pussy’s walls.
he loves the way your dripping cunt wraps around him, encapsulating his entire length in a way that makes him feel like the horny-horomone monster he was when he was a teen, wanting to fuck you into the bed until your cum paints the sheets a new white.
"yes?"
his voice comes out hoarse and stuttery, almost like he's hiccuping as his eyes screw shut from the shift of your body on him, cock twitching from the friction while he throws his head back into his pillows and whines.
"let me touch you, please.. you know i can't stand this.."
he has to ball up his hands into fists to restrain himself from slamming you down onto his dick and fucking you himself from how much his cock is twitching inside you.
humming in fake-consideration, you respond with a resounding “no” to his unbearable disappointment.
the blatant rejection makes his cock stiffen up more in embarrassment, threatening the fat tears in his eyes to spill over the sides of his face from how much he wants to ravage you completely, panting from the hard-on you're sitting atop that he can do nothing about.
his neck strains and twitches as you begin riding him, tantalizingly slow to watch his handsome face scrunch up and jerk around trying to avoid plunging his thick hands into your thighs and fucking you silly ‘till you're stuffed with his cum.
steadily increasing the pace while noticing the way his legs jerk with each of your movements, his hands fisting the sheets to control himself as he begins rutting into your hips, moving in sync with you to a much faster speed until you're practically pounding his dick deep into your cunt.
he looks so pretty and messed up beneath you. with disheveled hair thats clinging to his face from the sweat dripping down his temples, his jaw clenching from the pressure building up inside him, the way his eyes are fixated soley on your pussy rubbing against his crotch.
the friction between your bodies drives him crazy.
how badly he wants to flip you over and fuck your brains out until you can't walk.
but he knows he can't. because he knows if he even attempts to take control, you will hop off his dick without a second thought and deprive him of his much needed orgasm.
his breathy and ragged pants fill the bedroom like the sweetest music ever recorded as bokuto nears his high, "faster baby.. faster…"
gripping onto his thighs for support, you throw your head back as your walls clench around his dick, your groans becoming shaky.
“cum now,” you command him harshly through gritted teeth, mercilessly bucking your hips into his.
"fill me up so i can fuck it back in."
bokuto needs no further instruction as his hands hastily latch onto your ass and he finally gets to slam your wet cunt onto his dick himself, your back arching in pleasure as he thrusts into you repeatedly before letting out a hitched moan, feeling his seed fill your hot cunt.
he lets his head falls back into his pillow, panting heavily as you ride out his high a couple more times before you let out a low and drawled out "fuuuuckk…" before spilling yourself all over his cock.
theres a momentary silence between the two of you filled with nothing but soft pants and short gasps of air. your body slumps from exhaustion as you climb off his sticky cock, his cum dripping out of your pussy while collapsing onto his chest.
"you did well," you pant softly, craning your head to look up at your boyfriend's fucked out, flushed face, absentmindedly tracing his sculpted abs.
"didn't know you could keep your hands to yourself for that long. that’s new record for you, kou."
"you're so unfair baby.." bokuto whines childishly, hiding his reddened face with the back of his hand, "not letting me touch you.. that’s cruel."
you chuckle slightly at your manchild of a boyfriend, "so needy.”
he pouts at your teasing before burying his head into the crook of your neck, quietly murmuring against the skin, "only for you..."
bringing him out of your neck you give him a few kisses before responding with a coy smile, "i know."
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akaashi is a respectful man, or so he likes to think.
he is someone who treats you like a princess and goddess all in one. akaashi worships you like you're the next coming of christ and would rather die than ever even think of physically violating you in any way.
unless, you're putting on a strip tease show for him.
a switch flips inside of akaashi when he's forced to watch his gorgeous girlfriend undress herself in a seductive manner, and strip teases are the only time that akashi wants to ruin you so badly.
to pounce on you and destroy your pussy like you're nothing but an inanimate sex toy for his pleasure.
it's so bad, he knows that already. that he shouldn't be thinking of those thoughts about you. but he can't help it when it's oh so tempting. your naked body slowly being revealed right infront of him makes him go crazy, bonus points if he’s also restrained in some way.
his neediness shines more if he's restrained during it and can only helplessly watch & wait eagerly for your bra and underwear to drop.
akaashi would never admit to his friends that he gets hard when his girlfriend literally just undresses infront of him (bokuto would never let him hear the end of it.)
but the only things running through akaashi's mind when you strip tease him are he needs to pound your pussy inside out until it memorizes the shape of his cock fully imprinted in your walls.
akaashi felt this had to be some kind of modern day torture.
having his hands tied up, sat in a cold metal chair as he watched his girlfriend's fingers caress her clothed body and curves whilst staring him down eagerly.
your nimble fingers cascading down your curves before gripping the hem of your shirt, pulling it up above your head and letting it fall to the floor as akaashi’s breath hitched.
swallowing heavily when you snapped your bra strap lightly, enjoying the way akaashi's eyes widened slightly before relaxing again.
"keiji, i can see your bulge."
akaashi doesn't respond to your bait, he can't even care at this point that he's being humiliated like a preteen boy who just learned how to masturbate to porn by the way his dick was clearly showing through his sweatpants.
he wanted to rip off the rest of your clothes in an instant, but the ziptie restraints holding together his hands behind the chair resisted him.
"angel..” akaashi gently voices to you from across the room, his soft tone contrasting his horribly vulgar thoughts.
starved eyes never leaving your almost naked figure as your shorts dropped next, pooling on the ground beside your shirt, "please untie me, i need you."
the sight of you in just your underwear was making him lose his mind, trying to remove the zipties bounding his hands was a challenge he was ready to face if it mean getting rid of his horrible hard on.
he wanted so badly to rip that stubborn bra and underwear off your body before having his way with you, a million different lewd scenarios running through his mind at mach 20 of the ways he'd fuck you stupid.
walking over to him and casually sitting down on his lap, straddling his body and pulling his face closer to yours with one hand and holding another just above his crotch with a sly grin.
akaashi's relatively calm facade faltered at your actions, his chest tightening, eyes growing wide.
"i don't think so, keiji."
pressing the palm of your hand down firmly on his bulge, relishing in the way akashi attempted to bite back a moan, his body writhing from the stimulation.
he frantically attempts to break free from the zipties behind the chair as your hand remains on his clothed dick, savouring the pretty sight of your boyfriend's neediness and desperation laid out in front of you.
akaashi seethes through his teeth when you apply further pressure to his dick, jerking around in his chair as you draw his face closer to yours and cheekily ask, "what do you think you're doing, keiji?"
his eyes narrow at you in his fucked out state of mind, the zipties beginning to leave red marks on his hands from him trying to remove them.
you trace akaashi's jawline tenderly before sitting up in his lap and unhooking your bra, letting it fall onto akaashi’s thighs and kneading your breasts in your hands and moaning, all while gazing down seductively into your stunned boyfriend's eyes.
akaashi feels his mind going blank by the second, breath becoming ragged at the sight infront of him, eyes focused intently on your breasts in awe and insatiable hunger as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, letting out a low "fuck."
"like what you see?"
judging from the way you felt his throbbing dick grow beneth your still-clothed pussy, and from how heavily he was panting, straining the zipties with all his might you already knew the answer.
and so did he.
"i need you," akaashi grunted, biting back a moan from the feeling of his growing hard-on as his eyes pleading for you to free him of his restraints.
"angel please.. i'll make you feel good, i promise..” it was a lovely sight to witness. your boyfriend, choked up and stuttering beneath you, completely at your mercy.
his shaky moans are as pretty as he is.
"awe," you coo softly before pressing your lips to his neck, suckling the skin and gently rolling your hips over his in a teasing manner.
a hasty and guttural moan escapes his throat at your actions as he frantically thrusts his hips into yours. "need you now..” he desperately cried from the overstimulation, "please..”
with one final suck you detach your lips from his neck and admired the scene infront of you,
"gorgeous."
at long last, you slowly pull down your underwear and toss it to the ground, your fully naked body in view of your boyfriend who wanted to fuck you until the whole neighborhood knew his name.
you rose up from akaashi's lap, a needy whine escaping his lips at the loss of your body weight atop his aching cock as you walked to the other side of the bedroom.
he immediately thought you were just going to leave him alone, helplessly restrained and with a huge erection until he saw you snatch a pair of scissors from off his workdesk and turning to face him.
a shit eating grin displayed across your face as you held the scissors in your hands.
"you've been so good today keiji, now let me help you out of those ties of yours."
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© SHOYOSTAR / THOMAE 2023 — do not repost, copy, translate or edit my works. do not recommend my works outside of tumblr.
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ozzgin · 8 months
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I love your work! It is so hard to find good Baki writers. Could you please do a Yujiro x Female fighter reader. I feel like Yujiro would actually start falling head over heels with a reader who fights well and is as sadistic as him.
Thank you! And yes, realistically speaking - or at least what makes most sense in my opinion - Yuujirou would go for someone that not only is submissive to him (because any human would then suffice), but also shows impressive skill and strength. There’s an interesting idea that I once read in the introduction of “The Gates of Janus”, the book written by serial killer Ian Brady. The foreword author argued that Ian is what you’d call a rat king, an alpha above most alphas, and that for such personalities, most of the time, an equally dominant woman is sought for as a partner. Naturally she’d submit to him still, but only a woman of high dominance could keep up with this kind of intense character. This mentality felt a bit outdated and potentially misogynistic to me, but I think it really fits in the case of Yuujirou. Sorry for the ramble.
Yandere! Yuujirou Hanma x Fighter! Reader
Featuring The Ogre and a female reader that nearly matches him in strength and ruthlessness. TW: Dubious consent, violence.
[Baki Masterlist]
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Yuujirou can have anyone in the world, whether man or woman. It’s not up to them, really. It’s up to his mood and whims. And when he can have just about anyone, actually finding someone worth his interest becomes a difficult task. He doesn’t need an extra weight to drag around and as far as he’s concerned, commitment is not something he requires in his life. What would be the point?
No, for someone of his status, commitment doesn’t come as moral etiquette or requirement for a relationship. He has considered it, and in theory it could only be offered out of his genuine interest and never demanded by someone else. For The Ogre himself to fixate on one person and never wander eyes anywhere else… They would really have to impress him. Guarantee him that this is a one time deal never to be found again. And once that person is found, they’d do well to perform their role as his partner because there is no way out of it.
Lamentably, such temptation has never crossed his path. That is until a feminine figure strides into the ring of the Underground Arena. Yuujirou is ready to burst with laughter, but he’s quickly silenced by the rather abrupt end of the match. The mysterious character remains unfazed by the opponent’s blow and uses the opportunity to swiftly twist and crush the offensive limb. With the same indifference plastered on the face throughout the agonizing wails of the much larger man, she delivers her ending move and within seconds the arena is quiet again. After recollecting himself from this unexpected succession, Yuujirou turns to Strydum that’s been watching with similar amazement. “Who the hell is that?” He grunts. “I don’t know. Should I find out?”
Sometimes Yuujirou will replay the encounter in his head. He still gets shivers of raw excitement whenever he remembers your eyes back then. That utterly defiant glare. Strydum had asked you to meet them in private and as you entered the room, you immediately demanded to know why you’d been summoned. The Colonel begun fumbling in terror, almost begging you indirectly to not upset the redheaded man. “M-Mr. Hanma wished to see you, Miss (Y/N)-“ he was interrupted by your resounding snarl. “And who the fuck is Mr. Hanma to afford such audacity?” At that moment Yuujirou stood up, hands in pockets but visibly tensed up. You instinctively clenched your fists and frowned at the unspoken difference in power. The Ogre was halfway expecting you to fold and apologize, but after a minute your expression relaxed and your confidence returned. “Bitch. You’d rather die than give up your pride, huh?” He smirked at the thought. There was something about your attitude that greatly pissed him off but also turned him on at the same time.
The hardest part is getting you to accept him as your partner. See, Yuujirou will never beg or ask nicely. On the other hand, he’d rather not kill you, and severely damaging you in any way would take away the fun that caught his attention in the first place. That’s the dilemma: you’re stubborn and he can’t use force. Then again it’s not like he’s a mindless brute. Quite the opposite, only if he feels like it. A little charm with a dash of intimidation and you should be convinced, right? Don’t push it, (Y/N). If he really has to choose, he’d rather have you dead than belonging to someone else. It’s either him or nothing.
Really, it’s to your advantage if you learn to behave. He can give you everything you desire. He’s rather experienced in spoiling his women, and for you he’ll go the extra mile. Knowing he tamed you of all people is all the payment he could ever ask for. The satisfaction of putting you in your place, of having you cling to him fills him with greedy pride. A cocky smile distorts his features whenever the realization hits. If there’s such a thing as a soulmate, he’s found his. Although he doesn’t believe in that kind of bullshit.
A frightening pair in the eyes of most people. The Ogre relishes in the fact that displaying you as his woman has further increased his reputation instead of signaling any trace of weakness. As the time passes his conviction only strengthens: there’s no other place for you. You’re all his. Yet his favorite detail, what makes him flushed and dazed and addicted, is that no matter what he does to you as you lay there sprawled, naked, broken, your dignity never leaves. That prideful gaze that leers back at him makes him feel like he’s facing a mirror.
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chaoticace2005 · 2 months
Text
Why Valentino needs to chill the fuck out (AKA a list of complaints on the pissbaby):
(By Velvette, the only one here with a braincell)
(Her list for Vox (to stop obsessing over Alastor) here)
1. I can’t stop you from being a dick to your employees but STOP RIPPING UP MINE
2. Can you keep your obsession with Angel Dust in the studio? Bringing him up elsewhere makes Vox think he can bitch about Alastor and I don’t need anymore of that.
3. Bringing up the Radio Demon to win an argument just makes everyone suffer.
4. I know therapy is a lost cause with you but seriously?
5. Figure out whatever the fuck you and Vox have going on. You’re not dating but you have Radio Demon- related foreplay and Vox gets jealous whenever you bring up “Angelcakes.”
6. I’ll blow my brains out if I hear the name “Angelcakes” again.
7. I don’t want to keep replacing lights after you run into them head first
8. I don’t want to keep having to spend money buying mothballs so you won’t eat my clothes.
9. When you get pissed you get horny, and I’d prefer if you didn’t fuck anyone on the kitchen counter.
10. Or my closet
11. Can you stop crying about the fact I have (gorgeous) hair and you don’t? Not my fault your head looks like an egg
12. Also weird pheromones? Can you keep that stuff inside you until we need to make more Love Potions? The whole place stinks
13. Your rage bedazzling has begun to get out of hand. I took a shower and rhinestones came out of the tap.
14. STOP FIRING BEDAZZLED (OR ANY) GUN INTO WALLS. AND STOP SAYING ITS FINE BECAUSE YOU LIKE HOLES.
15. Chasing down your employee who is staying with the PRINCESS AND KING of HELL isn’t the best idea.
16. Also, again, Radio Demon. And he may be an ancient prick but Vox is so insufferable.
17. Seriously if anyone gets to kill you it’s me. And since I can’t nobody can.
18. We keep having to replace phones because of your tantrums.
19. And employees
20. And TV screens for Vox
21. When you get angry you put things in the top shelves which is really a dick move.
22. At this point I’m starting to worry if you’ll take the name “pissbaby” seriously given your recent fixation and I do NOT want to deal with that.
23. I know tormenting employees can be fun, but also Angel Dust gets us a lot of money. And if he finds a way to opt out then I’m making sure the financial loss comes out of YOUR funds.
24. I don’t want to go to any more shitty overlord meetings alone because Vox is busy having a mental breakdown and you’re busy looking up new forms of torture.
25. Unlike that Carmine hag I am NOT a wrinkly old mom so STOP making me act like it.
25. Apparently you can only be so “problematic” in Hell and you’ve definitely passed that point
26. Seriously? Do you know how often #CancelTheVees is trending? #CancelValentino is FINE but then you go dragging me into this shit…
27. I’m tired of being the responsible one. Why don’t you two old fucks get your shit together?
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ki-yomii · 9 months
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phases of a daydream | myg
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➥ pairing | min yoongi x f!reader
➥ word count | 2.8k
➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, oral (f receiving), squirting, soft dom!yoongi, pet names, mild degradation kink, mild praise kink, begging, teasing, implied established relationship, brief threesome fantasy feat JK
➥ summary | you get up early to surprise yoongi with breakfast in bed, only he ends up surprising you instead.
➥ notes | this man has made my oral fixation 10x worse. for all the sleepy girlies out there 🫡
💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚
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The early Sunday morning sun hovers low on the horizon, its golden light peeking through gaps between downtown Seoul’s high risers.
The cacophony of city life sounds muted, far away, foggy with sleep. Slow to rise as vibrant brushstrokes of color chase away the velvet nighttime sky.
Some of the only ones awake are food stand owners with tteokbokki and eomuk in hand, Hongdae club go-ers, and you, apparently. It’s peaceful - certainly different from your usual routine.
But it’s also an experience you don’t see yourself repeating soon.
As nice as watching the sunrise is, you’d rather be dead than awake at this hour, especially on a weekend. You’ll never understand how some people like getting up while the world’s still cold and dark.
It’s criminal.
Couldn’t be me, you think while swirling oil around the pan, and ignoring the fact you did that just this morning.
It’s a minor miracle when you’re fully awake before 11 AM, and that’s after you guzzle down so much caffeine you vibrate in place.
Woe to whoever expects more than dispassionate glares and unintelligible grunts as you migrate from the bed to the couch.
What can you say, you’re not a morning girlie: you hate the half-drunk awareness, the sour taste clinging to the back of your tongue, the sticky sweat, and how overwhelmingly bright everything is.
Instead, you’d much rather nestle into bed, groggy and warm.
So Min Yoongi better count his blessings because he’s the only reason you’re in the kitchen at 7 AM, wearing nothing but a shirt that barely covers your ass while trying - and failing - to flip nurungji.
Quiet Spotify tunes and Min Holly’s rumbling snores are the only background noise amid your bitten off curses.
Before you met him, you used to make fun of girls so far gone for a guy they lost touch with reality. And now, you’re one of them, fighting for your life in the trenches.
He’s got you so whipped, it should be illegal.
Furthermore, it’s downright unfair how endearing you find it. It should infuriate you. Instead, you’re kitten soft.
And Yoongi knows how to use it to his advantage - knows it’s that stupid smirk paired with a face that makes smart girls dumb.
It never fails to win you over; the pretty eyes, the plush lips, the sharp jawline - you’re an absolute goner. If only smug didn’t look so good on him…
Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it?
The only thing that somewhat mollifies your bruised pride is the fact that should everything go to plan, your less than innocent intentions will come to fruition.
After all, your stolen shirt leaves so little to the imagination, you needn’t have bothered. And when Yoongi sees you practically naked, with breakfast in bed?
Fire meets gasoline.
While he might never say it outright, there’s no denying the way Yoongi’s eyes go soft and hungry whenever he catches you prancing around in his shirt.
He swears he’s going to throw it out, threadbare and worn, yet there it sits. Waiting in the back of his closet for the next time you stay over.
But that’s how it’s always been; a game of cat and mouse. You tease, he reacts - a constant push and pull, flirting with the boundaries of his restraint.
Though admittedly, you’ve never been this brazen before; ass out and nipples hard.
Although it’s not like he lives with the rest of the members anymore, so why not up the ante?
Even if imagining someone walking in on you (no matter how improbable) gets your blood pumping, and your pussy aching.
No one has to know about the dirty little fantasy you indulge in more often than you care to admit.
No one has to know how wet you get at the thought of getting caught bent over, stuffed full of Yoongi’s cock and unable to do anything but moan as he makes you take it.
Certainly, he’d play along.
The smooth thrust of his hips wouldn’t falter, wouldn’t stop. He’d fuck sweet whines out of you, make you cum so hard you gush.
Would keep you pinned in place with his hands, and tease you about how much you liked getting wrecked in front of his friend like a perfect little bitch.
Especially if it was Jungkook.
Yoongi thinks it’s cute how frazzled you get around the maknae; a silly, schoolgirl crush. In fact, he’d probably use it to his advantage. After all, he loves to taunt, tease.
Oh, he definitely would, you think, biting your lip as your stomach clenches and your thighs twitch.
His fingers would dig into your jaw, force you to look if you tried to hide; make you stare deep into those wide Bambi eyes with his chin hooked over your shoulder and his voice rough in your ear.
Grinding his cock head over your g-spot with every flex of his hips as your pussy tries to milk him dry, “You just gonna stand there, huh? C’mere, let’s have some fun. She doesn’t mind.”
...
"Ow, shit," you hiss, jerking back from the stove as angry heat blooms through your fingertips, "fuck, that hurts!"
Dropping the spatula, you scramble to the sink and run cold water over your hand while glaring at the sizzling pan. It might have been your fault for getting distracted, but rude.
Even if the pain helps calm down some of your raging hormones.
Okay, down girl, you think, chill out.
So despite your fingers feeling tight and swollen like a bad sunburn, and as hot a fantasy as that is, you take your sign from the universe and recollect yourself.
For now, you need to focus on the task at hand which comes at the expense of no more daydreaming.
Resolutely ignoring the sticky cling of your inner thighs, you slip the spatula under the rice patty and quickly flip it over.
It sizzles as it drops back into the pan, little splashes of oil kicking up.
Thankfully, the bottom isn’t too badly scorched. A little darker than you’d like but beggars can’t be choosers when they burn themselves because they’re too distracted by the thought of dick.
Giving the other side a few minutes to crisp up, you frown down at the forming blister. You poke it with a wince.
It’s not too big, and the sting isn’t terrible. You were able to sap the heat from the wound quick enough.
Honestly, what hurts worse is your pride - a total rookie move.
When its ready, you dump it onto a plate without ceremony before turning to grab the sugar. Only to gasp as you run into a solid chest instead of open air.
Forearms snake around your waist as Yoongi tugs you into the curve of his body. Pressed together from chest to hip, he feels the hitch of your breath when his thigh wedges itself between yours.
“Oh, y-you’re up!”
Fingertips flirt with the hem of your (his) shirt, inching higher to caress the slope of your rib cage. Goosebumps break out across your skin, your nipples pulling taut as a shiver judders down your spine.
Low-slung sweats cling to Yoongi’s trim hips, his erection tenting the cotton.
“Mm, morning,” he says, the greeting slurred out in a voice raspy with sleep. “Smells good.”
You swallow. “Good morning, baby.” You lean forward, and kiss the tip of his nose. “How’d you sleep?” Your hand scrapes over the nape of his neck, playing with the soft baby hairs.
It wasn’t until sometime after 3 AM that he’d wiggled into bed, most of the night spent in front of his MIDI, fiddling with chords and arrangements.
He rests his chin on the top of your head with a sigh, his breath ruffling the hair of your crown, “Hnng, slept alright.”
Arms tighten around you in a light squeeze while cheeky fingers inch up your torso to trace along the underside of your breast.
“Had the best dream though.”
Your breath catches in your chest, your heart stuttering against your ribs when he grinds forward, languid and loose. Your gut clenches hotly in interest as his cock rests heavy against your hip.
A temptation, a promise of what’s to come. Your palms sneak around his sides, resting on sleep-warm skin.
When you speak, its more of a breathless whisper than actual words, “Yeah, I can see that.”
“C’mon, baby, don’t you want to help me out?” Yoongi hums, peppering kisses along the length of your neck. A rough thumb drags over the peak of your nipple. “Promise it’ll be good for you.”
“Yoongi!”
“Fuck,” a kneecap grinds up against your tender pussy, spreading your slick, swollen folds open, “can feel you through my pants. Let me, I know you want to.”
Your hips stutter, and you swallow your whine. “I do…”
Pleasure sings in your blood as you soak the fabric covering his thigh, a needy desperation rearing its head from deep within.
Flames lick along your skin, liquid fire pooling low behind your navel like a shot of whiskey.
“But,” you long for the bite of his teeth, the snap of his hips, the roughness of his grip, “I just finished making breakfast.”
Pouting, you stare up at him.
A tender expression softens the lines of his face. But the desire simmering beneath the gentle veneer remains, rough and rude.
There’s a raging tempest in his gaze, twin rings of rich coffee consumed by the black holes of his pupils.
Utterly ravenous, greedy as he traces your features.
It’s a look that’ll leave you weak-kneed and pumped full of cum.
“I know, and I appreciate the effort.”
He’s earnest, aflame with craven desire even as he presses a tender kiss to the side of your face. 
“But I’d rather eat you out. You’ll let me, won’t you, pretty girl?”
You nearly choke on your tongue, and say, “Well, how am I supposed to say no to a face like that?”
You’ve barely got the words out before you find yourself flat on your back, the unyielding marble of Yoongi’s counter top cold against your heated skin.
Calloused palms pry your thighs apart, grip so firm it dimples the fat as Yoongi holds you open and exposed.
He runs his nose along your sensitive inner thigh, his lips warm and ready as his breath pants over your soaked core.
When your clit throbs, he groans low and wrecked, “Just look at this pretty pussy.”
Almost reverently, he strokes his thumbs over the length of your folds, dips his fingers into your entrance to spread the gathering slick.
Whimpering, your head smacks back against the granite and your hips jerk up towards his face
“Can’t wait til I get my mouth on you.”
“Shit, Yoongi, you can’t - you can’t just say stuff like that.”
He flicks your clit, relishing in how your whole body jumps as he demands, “Why not?”
“B-Because you just can’t, okay?” Your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest. There’s no doubt, he’s going to be the death of you one day. “It’s not-”
Fair.
“I think you don’t want me talking like that because you like it. Don’t you, baby?”
“I-”
The words turn to ash on your tongue. A loud, sloppy lick up the length of your slit shuts you up while a harsh suck to your swollen clit makes you whine. Your back bows hard, your hands flying down to sink into the dark mane of his hair.
“Ohh g- ah!”
“That’s it,” Yoongi smacks his lips, humming low in his throat, “Let me hear you.”
Forearms anchor themselves over your thighs. Using his body weight to keep you pinned, he tugs you close and strokes his fingers over your sticky folds, humming in approval at the obscene squelch.
Slick oozes out of you with every talented caress, dripping down your ass to puddle on the countertop.
“Always get so wet for me, don’t you?” Yoongi buries his smirk in the crease of your thigh, his tongue darting out to tease the very edge of your cunt. “You’re such a messy little slut, just how I like it.”
Before you can properly respond, he’s spreading you open and bowing his head. You squirm as his plush lips glide over the top of your mound, butterfly kisses tracing the beginning of your needy slit.
His bangs brush the soft underside of your belly. “Ready?”
He doesn’t wait before diving in, sucking the hard nub of your clit into his mouth. Stars burst behind your clenched eyelids. Soft, warm suction sends pleasure ricocheting through your limbs, your stomach caving in with every tender pulse of his mouth.
Your mouth drops open on a silent gasp
“That’s so - fuck,” you pant, hand scrambling for something to hold onto, hips jerking beneath his firm grip. “Yoongi!”
The wild movements nearly dislodge him, and he grunts in displeasure before readjusting to keep you better pinned.
His tongue retreats from your clit, and he sets his teeth against your pussy in warning, a gentle bite that doesn’t break skin but carries the slightest sting.
“‘m sorry, please - haahhh - please don’t stop,” you slur, fingers digging into his scalp. “I’ll be good, just please don’t stop, I can’t-”
He grunts at the rake of your nails, tongue lashes out in retaliation. He dips the tip into the tight clench of your entrance, teasing your sensitive walls.
Meanwhile, his nose grinds against your clit. The sensation’s almost too much, your body alight like a live-wire. You feel like you’re about to rocket off of the countertop, one of your hands de-tangling from his hair to yank at your own.
“S’too much - s’too good. Please, baby, I can’t!”
Yoongi ignores your cries, knows you’d sooner stab him with a knife if he stopped.
Anyway, you can take it.
You’re his good girl, after all.
You both like it wet and messy; love when the honey of your cunt soaks his face, sticks to his lips and drips from his chin.
All you can do is cry out, your chest pointed towards the ceiling as his tongue fucks deep, never stops chasing every drop of pleasure. Your toes curl from the alteration between flat, firm licks and gentle sucks.
Sweat gathers in your hairline, behind your knees as a heady rush sends you spinning, mind a haze of sensation.
You can’t stop rolling your hips, chasing after his talented mouth. In no time at all, Yoongi’s going to have you violently, explosively cumming on his tongue - just like he always does.
“Give it to me,” he growls, “Wanna feel this pretty pussy gush.”
You moan,” Yoongi, I’m - please, don’t stop. R-Right there!”
Your thighs clench around his head, biting down on your lip to hold in the scream threatening to break free.
“Fuck, please, ‘m almost there.”
Your pathetic cries spur him on.
With renewed enthusiasm, Yoongi twirls his tongue across the top of your slit, the tip playing with the hood of your clit. You clench down hard. It’s almost too much, like he’s reached deep inside and plucked at your nerves.
Then, the leaden ball of heat behind your navel contracts. Expands into a blazing inferno that threatens to swallow you whole, spreading out along your limbs like bolts of lightening until you shake.
“That’s it, come on,” Yoongi says, coaxing every ounce of pleasure he can. “I’ve got you, pretty girl. Now, cum for me.”
All it takes is one last talented pulse of his tongue. Your orgasm rips through you with a loud, keening cry. Your back arches so high your spine feels like it’s about to snap, and slick gushes from you in a warm flood.
The ball of heat snaps, races down through your body from the crown of your head to your toes. Your thighs tremble from where they’re clenched around Yoongi’s head, soaked. Your heart slams against your ribs.
“F-Fuck…”
Collapsing against the cool stone, and panting hard, you push away stray hairs sticking to your face.
Glancing down the length of your twitching body, you see Yoongi still kneeling between your splayed thighs.
The lower half of his face is soaked with cum and drool. His sweatpants were kicked off at some point, you’re not sure when but it doesn’t really matter when his cock throbs against his belly, hard and wanting as the tip weeps pre-cum.
But it’s his eyes that really do you in; hot, hungry, and awe-filled.
“Can’t believe I’ve never made you squirt before.”
Those sinful lips part, red and swollen as his tongue swipes out to gather any leftover slick clinging to his mouth. A rough moan rumbles from his throat.
“Think you can do it again for me, baby?”
A weak laugh escapes you, and you think - not for the first time - that Min Yoongi is going to be the reason you die.
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chrollohearttags · 1 year
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little miss pressure • armin artlert
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armin was notorious for his wild ways and sexscapades but ends up meeting his match in the form of a girl he’d never expect. And it leaves the notorious playboy stuck on his new fixation.
plus size black reader, (y/n) works in the adult entertainment industry, alcohol and weed use, armin and reader are some FREAKS, reader is very hyper sexual and tbh a bad bitch 😝 (this is nasty, I apologize in advance!)
════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ════
producer!armin has always been a man synonymous with a less than savory lifestyle. Sex, drugs, fame and glory..it was all he ever desired. To live each day as if it were his last and let the consequences happen as they may. His vices were those every other music industry maestro that got into it for all the wrong..and selfish reasons. Especially when it came to women, which may have been his greatest weakness.
Switching them out like his latest pair of Amiris or his brand new Audemars. Picking them up at every illustrious strip club or his infamous house parties..working his way through a ten mile long roster of girls. Comprised of every bachelorette (and sometimes others wives) this side of South Beach. He didn’t care about what followed or if he hurt their feelings. All he wanted was his one night and a good nut. After that, what they did was none of his concern. And hell, with his good looks, he could get away with just about anything. Until you came along…until (y/n) showed up at one of his little soirées. Invited by a friend of a friend, who had spoken all about the engineer and all his antics. About the hits he’s produced, his track record and extremely high body count. Something that didn’t particularly off put you, seeing as how promiscuity was your entire profession. You were an upcoming adult film star, taking the internet and nsfw spaces by storm. A brick house of a woman who didn’t mind flaunting that beautiful body and working it in ways that many wish they could. Sex with you had been described a ‘spiritual experience’ by many. From the incredible head game to the pussy that had gotten many of your bills paid. A month after working with a couple of creators and collaborating with a few porn production companies, it all took off. Your OnlyFans was jumping and everyone wanted a taste of the newest BBW on the scene. And tonight, you were out prowling for some trouble to get into. You had your fair share of good hookups but you needed the man that was going to give you the type of dick that would change your life. It came not a moment too soon when you got some alone time with Mr. Artlert. Trust, he was more than well aware of your reputation and he wanted to see if it preceded you. And the feeling was mutual..
seeing as how you had only ever spotted him with skinny model types and BBL bodies..not that anything was wrong with it but you were a bit skeptical. Not questioning if you could pull him or anything but if he could truly handle you! Would he truly be worth the hype. But after downing a few daiquiris; making subtle eye contact from the room, he’d approach you with that signature smug look on his face, flashing you a toothy grin and boldly greeting you with a hug. “Yeah, (friend name) told me all about you..it’s very, very nice to meet you, miss (y/n). So glad you made it out.” Sealing it with a classic peck to the back of your hand..by the look on his face, he was more than likely assuming that you’d be easy pickings. Insecure and lacking self esteem as a bigger woman. That you’d be happy that someone like him was even looking in your direction. But was he sorely mistaken! Especially when hours later, after chatting you up the whole night and once the rest of his guests had gone home..he got you up to his bedroom and out of that designer on your body. “Are the rumors true, sweetheart?” “Find out for yourself if you’re man enough.” All it took was a shared spliff and a little more liquor before you had him spread across his own bed, toes curling midair as he released loud screams. “Ohhhhh fuck! (Y/N)…goddamn.” Howling from the head he received..engulfing all eight and a half inches of that veiny girth as if you lacked a gag reflex of any sort. “Yeah, fuck this throat. Don’t play with me.” Emitting strings of spit and covering that cock in it. Flicking your tongue around his sack and momentarily over his asshole. All while jerking him off. Never in his life had he had a bitch so nasty and he loved it! God, he loved how you abandoned every bit of your morals in the bedroom. Making his nut from sucking his dick when no one woman had ever done so before. “They weren’t lying, huh?” “Told you..”
but he was no minute man himself. See, after getting slurped up like that, he had to a little something to prove..and he’d do so by devouring your pussy while he ushered you atop his mouth. “Don’t look at me like that, sit the fuck down, baby. I can take it.” Assured in his abilities and absolutely infatuated with your flavor…moaning as he inhaled your scent and flicked his tongue all over your clit. Kneading his hands into that thick ass and hips, even prompting you to bounce up and down on his face. Causing a collision with those heavy cheeks. “Yes! Right there…oh God..” drawing out high pitched wails from your sore throat and sweet juices from that tightness. Coating his entire chest in your squirt. And from there, he couldn’t let up off of you. At least not until he pinned those legs back and put that dick stomach deep. “Wet this dick up then since it’s like that.” With those substances coursing your systems, it brought forth an even nastier side for both of you..if that were even possible! “Ion think you’ll leave me alone if I do.” Your feet plastered to the headboard as he pounded you relentlessly. “This pussy so fucking good!…” cracking only a few minutes and strokes in because he had never felt it this wet and gushy before. It was like being encompassed and coddled in a warm blanket that nestled his dick as if were made especially for him. Folding you into a mating press and having to bare all of his body weight just to reign you in. His one hundred seventy pounds in comparison to your nearly three hundred. He had piped many women in his young life but you were the true definition of pressure. Making loud smacking noises from the slick dribbling from that plump cunt. The fatter the pussy, the wetter and he was learning first hand. Burrowed over your face and feeding you slow, sloppy kisses, along with tons of slaps and spit..another first for the philandering bachelor. He didn’t want to leave it if he were being frank.
“Yeah, beat that motherfucker up, daddy. Keep going!” Reaching down to massage your bud with those coffin shaped claws as you glared into his eyes and done something that would truly drive him insane. “F—fuck! Squeezing me like that..gonna make me nut all in your shit.” Throbbing and fully swollen inside of you. Posing the statement like a threat but that was exactly what you were hoping for! And when he couldn’t control himself another moment, you found yourself filled to the brim and with a heavy slap to your ass, he’d command you all fours where he all but shoved his face between your cheeks, eating you out once more because he loved drinking it in. Shortly after, stuffing your other hole with a thumb and your pussy full of his still erect cock. Placing a foot on your head, beating your shit in and making you arch your back. That ass moving like water nearly drove him insane. The best backshots he’s ever given. And after rounds and rounds of fucking each other senseless..all for footage for your page, the producer was all but unconsciousness from exhaustion. Housing his entire load into your womb without so much as a second thought. He was sure to be sleeping peacefully, even telling you that you could spend the night. Words he had never uttered prior. Knowing that you had gotten him hooked and it surely wouldn’t be the last you’d be seeing of Armin Artlert. But for now..you’d gotten what you came for..
and you’d be gone before the sun could rise.
@lusts1ck 🫶🏾
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