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jeon-ify · 2 months

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- 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 - 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 ! ⋆·˚ ༘ *

synopsis: in which the way you look after showering gets your husband worked up.

genre: romance, smut, 18+. mdni.

warnings: dilf yunho!!!!!! yunho is in his late 30s-early 40s here, nudity implied, kitchen sex, swearing, breast play, making out, female reader, big!dick yunho, hand kink, finger sucking (yunho AND reader!!) tit sucking, cervix fucking, choking kink, breeding kink, if i missed anything let me know ! :3

song for the chapter : into it - chase atlantic

happy reading !

the coconut and lime scent of your conditioner floods the first floor of your home, sending your husband into a faint distraction. the scent runs up his nostrils, up to his brain, and straight down his cock. the music you’re playing blares through your phone in the shower, your husband hearing it through to the second floor.

“I BEEN CATCHIN’ PLANES FOR THE FUN OF IT,”

you sing out extra loud, your husband pausing his speech to apologize for the background noise.

you took an everything shower today, so you already made dinner before showering— considering you’d be exhausted.

somehow, yunho put the pieces together, finishing dinner and making it the right way. you didn’t expect yunho to be so generous tonight— but here you are, standing over the stove and nibbling little pieces of the food while you waited for yunho to finish from a call he was wrapped up in.

you looked around the kitchen out of boredom, looking for things to do before you dived into the food. the way yunho’s shirt sat so pretty onto your body, riding up your thighs as your pink panties peak through the ends of the tee made your man so painfully distracted— holding himself back from fucking you over the piping hot stove.

yunho watched how the ends of your hair weren’t fully dried and how it dripped onto the back of your calves, dripping down your shiny legs. he also watched how your— his— tshirt rode up your legs anytime you reached up somewhere or bent to get something. his eyes did not leave your body.

you were still stood over the stovetop, taking little bites of the greens. you moan in how good the food is, a blend of paprika and garlic seasoning, along with the sweetness of the teriyaki sauce that yunho drizzled everywhere.

but even through the layers of seasonings he put into the food, your scent still broke through it all.

“yeah, sounds good. i’ll put in the CRA request like we mentioned previously, and i’ll email you the forums. just let me know when you need it. was there anything else i could assist you with today, mr. song?” the man on the computer responds and the call comes to an end.

you stare at how attractive he is when he’s working— all the business talk that made no fucking sense to you, but he understands it like his own language, and that in itself makes you weak.

“doll, what do you have on? it smells good.” he finally decides to speak after what felt like hours of him admiring from behind his computer screen.

a much older man admiring your hygiene is something you never thought you’d see, but yunho was drooling on the laptop beneath his fingertips.

“it’s your favorite lotion,” you look up at him through damp eyelashes and flushed cheeks, watching how his nostrils flare with every breath he takes.

it takes yunho everything in his body to not pick you up and throw you over the counter and pound a baby into your small belly. he’s much older than you are, but when he met you, he knew you’d be his companion.

“yu, this smells really yummy. you did a great job, baby.” you walk over to yunho on the other end of the table, wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind him. he holds onto your hands and throws his head back onto your stomach, looking up at you.

“sweets, the last thing on my mind is dinner. let me taste you, little girl,” his soft and mature voice makes your legs quiver with excitement as yunho takes your hands in his, bringing your middle and ring finger to his mouth, sucking on the digits. you gasp in response, watching how desperate the middle aged man underneath your touch grows weak at your feet.

“i can never get enough of you. wanna fuck you all day.” he stands up to face you, bringing his lips to yours. he sucks and nibs at your bottom lip to gain quicker access to explore the rest of your mouth. you deepen the kiss, the faint taste of cigarettes cloud your small mouth, making you whimper in desperation. he slides a hand between your thighs, thumb rubbing against your clit. you’re not sure if your juices make a patch on your panties or if its from your shower. nonetheless, you are so fucking turned on right now that the last thing on your mind is dinner.

“what have you done to me, pretty girl?” he feels as though you’ve casted a spell on him. everything you do makes him feral; weak in the knees. but somehow, you make him a man.

“i’m just here, yunho. don’t give me all the credit,” you gasp at the feeling of his long fingers pushing into your tight wet cunt. he gasps in sarcasm, exploring your face as he uses your cunt to soak his fingers— bringing them up to your mouth.

you feel his fingers curl into a ‘come here’ motion, your breath hitching as he pushes against your walls. your eyes roll, grasping his forearm as he speeds up his motions. you cry out and beg for him to slow down, but he doesn’t listen.

“so pretty. look at these lips, let me kiss them.” he brings his lips to yours in an open mouthed makeout, gasping for air as he pulls away with a deep-dimpled smirk. your pussy convulses around his long fingers, as your husband groans in response.

your thighs clamp shut in an attempt to calm yourself down from how aggressively his fingers ruthlessly ravish your cunt. yunho, reaching your cervix from how long his fingers are, takes in a deep breath at how fast he’s been moving. “yu- ohh— fuck! please— i’m cumming, please i’m gonna cum!” you chant begs along with his name as if it were a mantra, feeling the way his hard cock presses into your backside.

“yeah, feels good, doesn’t it, baby? now let me feel you cum on my cock.” he brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucking himself dry of your juices. you whimper in need of him inside of you. he lines himself up with your entrance as you’re bent over the counter across from the stove.

he pushes into your soaked pussy deeper, feeling his dick throb ruthlessly inside of you already. lucky for him, he was able to hold himself for almost half an hour on end while he fucks you.

“s-sir, it’s so big! i don’t think i can take y-“ you pull away from his length, feeling like you’re being ripped in half by what feels like 12 inches. he runs his hand along your back from underneath the t-shirt, in an attempt to calm you down and keep you around him.

“tiny girl, you can take me. you’ve let me fuck my cum into you hundreds of times. what’s changed, dollface?” he almost makes you cum from his voice in itself, but you decide to push back while he stays still, waiting for you to adjust to his size for what feels like the millionth time throughout your relationship.

he begins pounding into you at a quicker pace, pulling and tugging at your bare nipples from underneath you. your mouth hangs open as yunho brings his large hand to your throat to wrap itself around it. you grit through your teeth, wishing you could just cum.

you don’t feel like you want to cum, you feel like you’re going to squirt all over his body. “talk to me, baby. what’s it feel like?”

he’s being so fucking annoying and making you focus on anything else other than your orgasm, but you only moan and cry in response.

“i— ‘s too much.” whimpering and shaking in a headlock, you grasp onto yunho’s arm to get a breath of air. from the way his muscular arm wraps itself around your throat makes you cum over, and over already.

yunho gets another quick scent of your lotion and conditioner, making his cock twitch in your cervix.

“i’m almost done baby, give me another one— fuck, you smell so good. the fuck are you doing to me, baby?”

he pounds into you again, harder this time— tugging at your panties to pull you back onto his hips, planting himself deeper in you.

“nngh, oh my god!”

“oh, but i’m the one making you cry like this. give it to me, fucking milk me dry. gonna spill all my cum into your tiny stomach. let me give you my babies, hm? how’s that sound?”

he bends over so his chest is against your back as he nips at your ear. his tongue licks up your tears, planting a kiss on the end of your right eyebrow. his thrusts slow down as he holds you in place to shoot his load right into your baby maker.

“oh my— fuck! yes, so good!”

you cry out in relief that you finally got to spill out your cum onto yunho’s still cock. he lands a sharp slap on your ass before pulling you back up and planting a kiss on your forehead.

“so pretty when you cry for me. should keep a picture in my wallet.”

yunho gets down on his knees before you, licking up your thighs where your juices dried. your fingers run through his pretty softly gelled black hair.

he licks up all of your juices near your heat, using his fingers to push back the cum that threatens to drip from your pussy. your eyes roll to the back of your head as yunho places a kiss on your lower stomach, traveling up beneath your shirt to suck a generous amount of skin on your tit.

“yun— you’re sucking too hard, fuck!” he sucks and bites your nipples as if you were his lifeline,

he slaps the area he sucked on, making you gasp out in surprise. “keep my cum in you until after dinner, i’ll fuck more into you.”

so you sat at the other end of the table with your thighs clenching and unable to think about anything other than your husband pounding a shit ton of babies into you.

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🌷🤍🎀

well? dilfyunho anyone?????

#ateez #kpop smut #ateez fanfic #kpop #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez smut #yunho x reader #yunho fic #yunho scenarios #yunho smut #jeong yunho #yunho #ateez yunho #jeong yunho smut #yunho x y/n #ateez yunho x reader #ateez x y/n #female reader

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polaroidpascal · 2 months

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lunch box || joel miller

AO3 || MASTERLIST || FREE PALESTINE

pairing : joel miller x f!reader

summary : joel’s stubbornness has him working at ungodly hours on your saturday morning. you decide to do something nice for him, but of course he would realize your absence in bed, especially so early when you’re supposed to be off…

tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, reader briefly gets picked up and carried, no outbreak, domestic life with joel, sarah and ellie briefly mentioned, joel is mid-to-late-30s, oral (f!receiving), unprotected p in v sex (practice safe ofc!!), joel being big slightly mentioned once, lots of talking and praise (my man cannot shut up), creampie, cum eating (reader teasing joel lol), general sweetness from them both <3

WC : 2.7k

a/n : this is the first fic i've ever written and posted so enjoy !! :)

Ever since you met, you knew that Joel was the one. Talking with him is easy, like your souls have known each other in every lifetime. Being in his presence is safe and comforting. He feels like home. On top of that, after you had been seeing each other for a while and he let you meet Ellie and Sarah, they made you feel so welcome in their family. Life just makes sense with them.

Joel has been a contractor all his life. Even though he can set his own hours, he prefers to start working early so he can be home with his daughters when they finish school. Today — a Saturday — was weird, though. The project he had been working on needed to be rescheduled because of weather, but Joel decided to keep his hours the same. You could tell he didn’t really want to get up so early on a Saturday, but his stubbornness forbade him from changing that. Last night as you drifted to sleep in his arms, knowing he would probably not have time to get lunch tomorrow, you decided you would do something nice for him.

Sarah and Ellie spent their Friday night away at a friend’s house (which you and Joel definitely took advantage of the night before), and the house is eerily quiet when you stir awake in the wee hours of your Saturday morning. You can feel Joel’s sturdy arms draped over your sides, his entire body pressed against your back as if he’s scared you’ll float away if he doesn’t keep you close. You hear his slow, sleepy breathing in your ear and you know he’s still dead asleep. Carefully, you lift his heavy arms from you and slip out of his grip, kindly replacing yourself with a pillow, and resting his arm back down.

He stirs to adjust a bit and settles once again. Success.

You head to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, Joel's life support in a cup, and pull out the things you need to make his lunch. After, you head back to the bedroom to grab a comfy change of clothes. You wait out the brewing with a quick shower hoping it’s less noisy than you think it might be.

While you shower, Joel stirs awake a little before his alarm. He shuts it off to avoid the noise and turns back over seeking your figure — but you’re gone. Confused and still groggy, he gets up searching for you. He hears the shower running and…

Is that… singing?

He puts his ear up to the door and hears you faintly singing the songs he plays on his guitar for you, trying to be as quiet as you can. His heart swells at your beautiful sound and he almost opens the door to join you, but then the smell of coffee begins to fill his nose. He walks into the kitchen to see the last drips fall into the pot and the ingredients for a hearty sandwich sitting on the counter. Putting two and two together, he nearly tears up realizing your plans and decides to sit to the side and wait for you, not wanting to ruin your surprise.

You throw on your comfy silk pajama shorts and one of Joel’s old band t-shirts that swallow you up and return to the kitchen.

You don’t notice Joel at all.

He watches silently from the dark living room as you pour a glass of coffee for him into his favorite owl mug and glide around the kitchen putting his lunch together. He admires your freshly washed hair, already air drying a little bit, the way his t-shirt, oversized on you, drapes over your curves perfectly, and how you continue quietly humming his songs. A small fire ignites deep inside of him, and as you turn around to pack his food, he rises from his chair.

He silently saunters over stealing two big sips of the coffee you poured for him. You hear the cup clink lightly on the counter and turn around just as his big hands glide over your hips, embracing you from behind. “And here I was thinking I was surprising you,” you tease as his face buries into your neck, his naked torso pressed completely against you.

He chuckles. “You did, angel. I just saw it before you were ready, ‘s all.” He kisses and nips your earlobe and you mewl at the sensation. He trails down to your neck while his hands gently guide your hips back into his, feeling him start to grow through his plaid pajama pants.

“Joel…”, you whisper as you turn around in his embrace to kiss him. You find his hungry lips waiting to invite you in. He tastes deliciously like the coffee you made for him and you hum contentedly at it. Your hands trace his bare sides and chest all the way up to his hair, and you run your fingers through his messy locks.

As if he’s not stiff from sleeping, he hoists you up from the floor carrying you as you straddle him, hands still dancing through his hair, and brings you to the couch. Without breaking your kiss for even just a second, he puts you down laying on top of you as you descend, a comfortable weight that he knows you love to feel. His kiss melts into yours and your lips feel like they become one. He breaks away despite your protesting whine and quietly teases, “You know you didn’t have to get up so early on your day off just ‘cause of me, right? I’d probably have time later to pick somethin’ up,” and his lips fall back to yours, one of his hands coming up to tease your breast.

You moan softly, “Well, with your luck, today would be the one day you wouldn’t find time. Besides, I felt like surprising you.” You smile coyly at him and watch as his pupils grow somehow even bigger at you.

He stares for a second trying to figure out how he got so lucky finding you, and a smile threatens to erupt at the corners of his mouth. “You’re so sweet, you might give me a cavity.”

Your chuckle is cut off by a small gasp as he kisses a line down your neck, his beard ghosting your collarbone. Once he reaches the collar of your — well, his — shirt, he descends lower, sticking his whole head under the shirt that engulfs you. He kisses up your stomach until he reaches your chest, taking one nipple into his mouth and you gasp again. His tongue moves firmly over the growing bud at a quickening pace. “Yes, Joel…” you whimper, then suddenly whine as he bites you, quickly soothing the mark with his tongue.

His free hand rises up to replace his mouth as he moves over to give your other side the same treatment. You pant from both movements happening simultaneously, him drawing out more whimpers and moans from you. You squirm underneath him accidentally grazing his own growing member and he groans, already painfully hard for you. His sounds send a sudden rush of heat straight to your core. He continues at your nipple, one bite in particular causing you to cry out and you could swear you feel his cock twitch against you as he moans in reply, another rush of arousal already flooding within you again.

He kisses a line down your chest, down your stomach, until his hands find the hem of your shorts. Your legs spread making room for his broad frame as he drags your panties and shorts down, seamlessly replacing them with soft yet hungry kisses where they once sat. He tosses them to the side, licking and kissing his way back up your thighs, nipping at the sensitive inner skin.

Joel’s eyes practically look pitch black, his pupils so blown out with lust, when you see him eyeing your throbbing core and he groans.

“Good lord, sweetheart,” is all he can manage as he admires you glistening for him. His eyes trail up your body. He could come just from the sight of you: legs spread eagerly, eyelids heavy, pupils just as blown as his own, desire written on your face in big bold letters…

And you see how desperate he looks for you, but a sly smirk quickly spreads across his face, “Bet you taste even sweeter than you act.”

Unable to control his hunger any longer, he fiercely licks one broad, flattened stroke up your middle, tasting the fruits of his labor. He moans at your taste, sending vibrations over your clit. You let out a cry of pleasure and his hips subconsciously rut into the couch, desperately seeking some relief for himself. His tongue glides through your folds, broad strokes accompanied by tight circles around your clit and the occasional dip inside…

“Fuck, Joel!” you cry as he focuses at your hole, his thumb replacing his tongue at your clit drawing tight, fast circles as his tongue dips in and out of you. “Oh my god… yes, please… feels so…”

He can only moan in response, sending lightning through your body with every sound he makes. “Please… oh, my g-… don’t stop, Joel… I’m so close…”

He can feel your impending release and between gasps for air, he practically begs, “Let it go, angel… that’s it… come all over my face… doin’ so good for me…”

His words send you hurdling over the edge as you come — hard. Your hips drive up into his face, head dipped back, crying out in pleasure. Joel refuses to let one drop go to waste, lapping up your slick like an animal. He licks you through your orgasm until the aftershocks and twitching die down some. Then he rises back up to your face. “Taste so good for me…” he says as he kisses you deep, lips and beard soaked. You moan from his taste; like coffee but with a sweet hint of you mixed in, and he swallows every little sound.

He breaks from your lips, your foreheads touching and lips barely ghosting over each other. “I’m gonna fill you up so good, darling,” he whispers as he reaches down to free his cock from his pajama pants.

“Please…” you beg, eyes lazily gazing into his own. “Fuck me, please.”

He looks deep into your eyes as he rubs up and down your heat, coating himself and he slides in without any problem, going slow when you gasp so your body can adjust to his size. But your body seems to draw him in, swallowing him whole and pulling him into you deeper and deeper. “My god…” he gasps as he feels the lingering spasms of your soft walls choking his cock.

You can only manage to whine in response, your eyes silently begging him to move, and he obeys. He begins slowly moving in and out, already embarrassingly close to his own climax, but he desperately wants to feel you unravel on him. Gradually, he finds his pace, bottoming out inside of you over and over and over. Refusing to break eye contact with you, his free hand dips down seeking your clit as he furiously traces tight, swift, calculated circles round and round.

Your eyes bolt shut at the feeling of him filling you up and teasing your clit. You’re well past the point of forming full sentences, and he can tell. Breathlessly, he tries to coax more from you, “Look so pretty taking my cock, angel… so good… fuck, you feel so good… ‘m not gonna last, sweetheart…” His pace is unpredictable, plowing into you for a few thrusts and then slowing down to a near stop to avoid finishing too early. “Need you — oh, fuck… god, almighty… n-need you to come for me, darling… please…”

As he begs for your release and his hips begin to falter, he finds that spot that only he has ever been able to find within you, rapidly sending you over the edge again. Your walls constrict suffocating his cock. You writhe and whine, almost unable to even make a sound.

He works you through your orgasm, his own rapidly approaching as he watches your eyes roll back from pure bliss. “Yeah, just like that, gorgeous… shit, you’re soaking me… fuck me, dripping everywhere… fuck… Oh my god, I’m—”

He cuts himself off with his own grunting and groaning as he begins to paint your walls with his come. He whines and gasps, bottoming out with every wave of his orgasm until his cock twitches for the last time. He collapses over you, crushing you in the best way with his weight as he tucks his face into your neck. You’re both panting, your chests crashing into each other as you come down from your highs and try to recover.

Joel finally softens enough to pull away without completely overstimulating himself, grunting as he rolls off of you and brings you to your side, spooning you and leaving small, tender kisses on your neck. His hand rests over your waist just as it did when you awoke this morning, and you lay there for a little while your heartbeats return to a normal pace.

You feel his come slowly leak out with his absence but you don’t even care. Being in his embrace washes away any other thought from your brain. All you can care to think about is the strong man clinging to you as he comes back down to Earth, holding you close and never letting go. You’re listening to his breath trying to fill his lungs once more and feeling his raging heartbeat through his chest and against your back. This is your personal heaven. Wishing you could live in this moment forever, you close your eyes and savor the feeling in all its glory.

You feel your body threatening to drift back asleep, but one particularly deep and content sigh from Joel reminds you that he is, in fact, supposed to be leaving for work. Glancing at the clock, you gently remind him of the time, your smile audible as you say, “You have just enough time to clean up and put on your clothes. Good thing your lunch is already packed.”

He gives a breathy chuckle and hesitantly gets up with that classic dad groan he always gives. Even though all he would really like to do is spend the rest of eternity lying right here on this couch in this moment with you, duty calls. He glances between your legs and sees the mess he made. You catch a glimpse of his look, his ferocious blushing visible even in the dimly lit room as he stares quite obviously at your middle.

Feeling particularly mischievous, you reach down to collect what you can, scooping it up as it coats your fingers. Joel’s mouth drops open in a stupor, watching in disbelief as you bring your fingers up to your mouth and lick your digits clean. You unmistakingly see his breath hitch at the sight and know that if time weren’t the major issue right now, he would pounce on the opportunity for round two.

“Goddamn, angel…” he says shakily, still in utter disbelief. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy. You’re lucky I have a job to go do,” he tells you with a dazed, fucked-out look and tone as he retreats to the bedroom to attempt to get ready for work. You get up and slip into the bathroom to clean yourself up some more before returning to the couch exactly the way he had left you.

Emerging from your bedroom dressed with lunch in hand, he spots you drifting off back to sleep and walks over to plant a soft kiss on your cheek. Before you completely succumb to the drowsiness, you manage a soft and sweet, “I love you.”

He smiles and bends back down to plant another, longer kiss right to your lips and whispers back, “I love you more.”

He sees you smile at that before he turns for the door and quietly leaves for work, already counting down the minutes of his shift left before he can come back home to you.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #tlou #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou one shot #joel miller one shot #this is what happens when the mental illness gets WAY too out of hand

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suguruplsr · 3 months

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FILTHY DUMP!

,, mean! satoru x fem! brat reader , heavy degradation + words (whore , slut , bimbo , bitch) + reader calls him a bitch boy, spanking , heavy finger sucking + ear licking , unprotected , dumbification , not proofread + idk what else <3

divider @/yunjiniez

“nuh uh, gimmie y’r hands.” satoru scoffs, pinching one of your ass cheeks and making a pained whimper escape you. you were full of his cock, laid pitifully on your duvet and simply taking whatever he gives you. your fingers clench the fabric underneath you, hesitating to follow his command. you know you’ll be forced to bend to his will once he has his way.

but you ponder for far to long, a sound ripped from you as he takes your hands, holding your wrists behind you with one hand while his other plays with cream coating the are of where you two meet, “tsk, a whore like you doesn’t deserve anything.” satoru mumbles, keeping his gaze on the way your pussy sucks him in with the few short thrusts he gives your needy cunt. you bit your lip from the movement, needing to feel him give you the orgasm you want. but oddly finding his new “personality” hot, wanting nothing more but to push him just a bit further.

“y-yea? but you always spoil me toru. bet yer’ just gonna cum in me like the bitch boy you are.” you sing, relaxing your body, despite the growing ache in your arms, and trying to play into your little act. your confidence is dwindled down to smithereens when a harsh slap is given to your ass, making you scream and turn your head.

“nah, fuckin— wanna act tough, right?” satoru practically growls, anger evident as he lets go of your hands, not giving you a choice but to stuff your head in the sheets as he pushes it down, his chest pressing your body flush to the bed. “say it again. i dare you.” he purrs in your ear, ignoring your tiny mewls from the pure feeling of his tip bumping as far as it can in you. your mind surely doesn’t help you, too focused on his musky smell, a sweet but dull fragrance of his body wash overpowering your senses. god, you can even feel his pebbled nipples brushing against your skin, hot all over from the skin to skin contact.

“bitch boy. t-that’s what you are — ohhhh, toru!” your response is cut off with slender fingers squeezing your cheeks, a breathy sigh from satoru as he gives you a rough roll of his hips before targeting your cervix with a sharp hit. he holds your face so tight you’re forced to swallow down your moans, spit slowly coating his fingers until they’re slipping between your messy lips.

immediately, your tongue swirls over the long digits, choking as they reach the back of your throat, giving you no reprieve. “ah, can’t talk now huh? actin’ like a slut n’ slobbering’ all over my fingers. tsk.” his degrading sends chills down to your pussy, a disobedient hum leaving you and transmitting vibration through his hand as you feel your mouth starting to deny the muscles shoved between your upper lips.

on the other hand, satoru adores the drool he can feel sliding down his wrist, leaning down to the side his arm wasn’t wrapped around, licking your ear as you can do nothing but close your eyes in discomfort. “nasty thing. can feel ya around me y’know. getting off to this like some dumb bimbo.” satoru chuckles, his tongue flicking around the cavern of your ear as he scissors his fingers in your mouth, playing with it as if it was the delicate area between your thighs. you try to shake your head, desperately wanting to claim how utterly disgusting the stronger man was, but all you get is a thumb on your chin holding you in place. a look of disappointment crossing his face. “stay still. gonna fuck the shit out of ya. but y’r not cumming baby~ just a good lesson f’ya!” he giggles, pulling his dripping fingers out of your mouth and pulling away. his dick twitches inside you as he gets a good glimpse of your flushed and lewd state, before his hand wraps around the back of your neck while he pulls away.

“wait! sorry, i’m sorry, m’sorry..” you spew out apologies, to the point where your eyes begin to water, puffy lips quivering as you try to to move your head.

“too late for that. you wanted to act out, gonna make you my bitch. oh don’t run away now, haven’t even got to the good part..” satoru whines, pushing your head into the mattress without a care, his free hand rubbing the arch of your back as he begins to fuck you like he hates you. your muffled cries are like sweet melodies to satoru, whimpers that could have him cum without touching. sounds that his brain keeps stuck in his head because they’re his favorite song.

his thrusts pick up the pace, fast and harsh as your ringing ears pick up the sonds of his imbalanced breathing, and the slaps of his hefty balls hitting against your ass with a dangerous force that could leave marks. so enraptured with the simple feeling of pleasure, neither of you notice the way you did end up creaming around his cock. again, and again, and again. your minds falling weak to how good you both feel. all until you’re getting a filthy and revolting load of cum shoved into your undeserving cut, unapologetic spanks to your ass, and words that make you feel like a dirty dump for your one and only <3

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astro-rainbow777 · 4 days

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💐🌸 𝓣𝓪𝓾𝓻𝓾𝓼 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓗𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓮𝓼 🧸🌱

♉︎ - Happy Taurus Season Everyone!!! In honor of Taurus season, I am continuing the signs through the houses series. I hope y’all enjoy my findings & this post serves you well. Thanks so much for all of the support! Happy Spring & Upcoming Beltane to the Pagan Community <3

🌸 Taurus in the First House ~ Taurus on the ascendant is the embodiment of peace, calm and pleasure. These natives aren’t the most outgoing but leave such a comfortable and cozy first impression. They don’t say more than needs to be said, however they are unlikely to turn down a conversation. They have a soft and natural beauty about them and strong familial values. They enjoy the finer things, have a clean aesthetic and a “rich” aura. Many of them are shorter or more petitie in size, have a pleasing and smooth voice and kind eyes. However, if you mess with the bull, you’ll get the horns! Being on the opposing end of Scorpio, when they cut you off, it is completely. Good luck getting back into their lives because they are a closed book. Why y’all always smell good? Fr tho

🐂 Taurus in the Second House ~ Here the sign is in its ruling house, they do very well in saving their money, are picky about what they eat and indulge in the material pleasures of life. They value loyalty, commitment, stability and security - not to mention their love fashion & the arts. They will tell you they have the most exquisite taste, you would find it very difficult to change their mind. They hold up strong values and morales, what they know to be right and wrong is the truth. This is a very secure personality, they are very comfortable with their bodies, and have a healthy sense of worth and self love. Honestly such a healthy placement - as someone with NO earth in their chart - muhbenaaaace

💰 Taurus in the Third House ~ These natives find security and peace in their childhood homes, where they grew up, the memories of their cousins and siblings. They could be the most stable or the least stable out of their siblings. The way they think, learn and communicate is slow and methodical. They take their time in studying new topics, preferring to stay on the surface of a topic. They may have an artistic and beautiful singing voice, or maybe the way they speak is just very polite and sweet. They were raised with manners and this makes them very charming. They can have a liking for music that moves at a slower pace, classical music, or just a more elegant taste in art.

🥘 Taurus in the Fourth House ~ Their family could be a source of stability and security for them. The mom, mother figure or more feminine role model can be the bread winner in the family, her love language could be gifts, an amazing cook, and give a lot of hugs 🫂 They have stable emotions, it takes a lot to emotionally sway them. It may end up bothering people who try to get an emotional reaction from them because of this. They can be the most grounded one in their family. Their family may view them as realistic, practical and reliable. Family is what gives them sanction from the world.

💝 Taurus in the Fifth House ~ They express them selves in a very material type of way, their flex is their finances. These natives take a lot of pride in what they have...this usually comes from a place of having to work really hard for their things. They love the natural look, minimalist, they like long lasting, high quality, practical fashion. To them that is the best statement to make. They don’t like that trash to treasure look their tastes are refined. They will shower their kids with the finer things and really enjoy providing for them - this will be their love language. They aren’t huge adrenaline junkies and enjoy more grounded, chill hobbies. They definitely don’t mind being alone and love their down time at home…on the couch…snacks…naps…repeat.

🐻 Taurus in the 6th ~ These natives prefer a slow start to their daily routine, and enjoy a slow paced job, with chill yet organized coworkers. The workplace must be something that they don’t hate… because if they hate it and it stresses them out just thinking of going, they won’t work there. Period. They need low maintenance pets as these individuals are very independent in nature. It’s important for their day job to be a place of peace and pleasure for them, and once they are comfortable, it’s gonna be hard to get them to leave. Their job can provide them with sooooo much stability if they have a good one.

🍨 Taurus in the 7th ~ Wining and Dining with your loved ones! Shopping sprees, luxurious and high quality partners. With the ones they love the most, they spoil, eat and they just want to be lazy with them honestly. They want their relationships to be a place of peace for them. It’s important that their partner can support themselves and is stable on their own. It will just cause them stress if they are constantly worrying about having to take care or mommy their partner. It’s possible that they can stay with someone out of fear of the unknown/change, even tho they don’t like them or it’s not working anymore.

🌷 Taurus in the Eighth House ~ Cycles related to self esteem, self worth, and supporting themselves. Honestly, this is a really hard placement to have- they may have times where they stay in ab*sive relationships because they can’t support themselves financially or they are too uncomfortable alone. However, the eighth house is notorious for taking your greatest fear/weakness and turning it into their super power. You just have to get through those lessons and take those leaps of faith to unlock that power and hidden potential! They like to engage in their senses when they’re intimate with their partners and prefer slow love making rather than the raw primal stuff.

🪴 Taurus in the Ninth House ~ These people can be a little fixed in their beliefs, their spiritual beliefs/religion can be a source stability and sanction for them. If they aren’t necessarily spiritual- they could just have a specific philosophy or lifestyle that they stick to. What I admire about these individuals, is they know exactly what they want. When they travel, it has to be somewhere where they know exactly what to expect, somewhere that won’t give them anxiety, and probably a more luxurious staycation type of experience. They could also enjoy a nice nature walk with their loved ones.

👛 Taurus in the Tenth House ~ Every single person I have met with this placement neeeeeed a stable job, they will not leave a job if it provides them with the type of lifestyle they desire. It doesn’t really matter what they are doing for their career as long as it aligns with their values. Their dad/father figure could have been the sole provider and could have made a huge impact on their reputation. This is definitely a daddies money placement 💀 - sorry if that’s triggering for anyone lol. The father figure could be super down to earth and chill, enjoy cooking or just be way too overly indulgent in a negative manifestation.

👒 Taurus in the Eleventh House ~ Is the stay at home friend, doesn’t like to get out of their comfort zone to meet new people. Much likely to want to stay inside and bond with their community in a space that is familiar and inviting to them. Their community could be their sanction and be the most stable part of their lives. They enjoy cooking and creating art for their friends. Anything to bring peace to their homies senses! For their friends, the Taurus eleventh house native’s place is a home away from home. How special 🥹

👄 Taurus in the Twelfth House ~ When it comes to matters of the twelfth house, spirituality, isolation, ect. - these individuals may like to keep things light and on the surface. They are comfortable being alone, in fact they consider it to be comfortable and safe. Their spirituality isn’t something they spend time questioning, and they could be very comfortable with the unknown, they enjoy their own curious nature. They are endearing to their own selves, however sometimes their sense of worth could be confusing. They may have a hard time understanding their own values and morals, preferring to just go with the flow, everyday they are a new person trying on different personalities, hobbies and styles! The possibilities are endless! It’s quite an interesting placement. One more thing….secret indulgences…the silent snacker

Smell ya later!

#astro community #astrology #astrology signs #zodiac #spirituality #taurus #taurus rising #astrology observations #Taurus in the Houses

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anadiasmount · 5 days

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as time gets close - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: almost close to your due date, what is wrong with a late-night grocery trip with your very excited and anxiously waiting fiance?

wc: 1.8k | masterlist | jude's masterlist

psa 🗣️: a little dad! jude blurb bc we haven’t seen much of this on the timeline!! like always hope you enjoy 🤍

"why are you bending down? you know that is bad for you," you rolled your eyes at your fiance's scolding, grabbing the keys from the floor. "i dropped the keys by accident," you say as you pick the correct key that belonged to the lock. jude rubbed your belly, ensuring you were okay before helping you out to the car, the reusable bags tucked underneath his arm.

"did you bring the list?" you ask him seeing as he nods and pulls it out from the pockets of his hoodie. "i did. i also brought you some snacks because you didn't eat much after getting some nausea," you pouted your lips leaning up to peck his cheek thanking him. "what would i do without you?" you tease, a playful scoff falling from his lips.

"what makes you think you'd be without me? i'm attached to you for life remember?" he grabs your left hand kissing over your ring finger as he gives you a knowing look. you feel as he brings your intertwined hands to your belly, "and you're carrying my baby in there."

"really i couldn't tell," you say sarcastically.

"let's make it quick because my feet already hurt and i want to sleep," you advised letting out a tired yawn. despite being close to your due date, you still had some work to do before maternity leave. making calls to set meetings, attending them over zoom, filing paperwork, in charge of making sure the firm doesn't backfire, and planning some stuff out for your wedding.

jude had told you multiple times to take it easy, but placing that aside, he always helped you unconditionally. in the shower, when cooking, taking care of chores, before bed, and attending all your doctor's appointments. he was your personal midwife and wanted to take care of you the most he could.

you remembered to look on his face when you told him you were expecting, the tears on his face as he spoke to your barely bump all night and traced his hands on your belly. singing and humming lullabies and stories about his day. since then he wanted to protect you the best he could.

going to the grocery store at this time was nothing new, in fact, it became so prevalent now that you were pregnant because you craved everything. making jude do a late run to pick up your cravings or groceries for the upcoming weeks. the same store, at the same time.

you placed your purse on the cart, snuggling into your jacket as the cold air inside the store blew you away. you followed jude who picked out veggies and greens for his meal prepping, helping him tie the bags and weigh them on the digital scale that produced labels. you watched in awe as your boyfriend picked out three pairs of different flowers. "what are these for?" you asked, smelling the flowery scent.

"for the house. we need to replace the old ones that dried out," jude says with a shy grin. "you were the one who said plants and flowers bring a sense of home into our house, " jude recalled your words, kissing your temple, pushing the cart since it became a bit heavier. "i did say that didn't i? well i wasn't wrong," you shrug, wrapping a hand around his bicep as he trailed along isles to pick up the different items on the list.

he did all the heavy lifting as you reached and picked stuff up from your level, like spices and eggs. you turn your back for a few seconds to retrieve some milk and coffee beans for the morning, to see the cart filled with pop tarts and other salty snacks. "no no no," you shake your head, as jude whines out protests. "y/n we need them! they're even on sale!"

“jude, i don’t care! we just got some three days ago!,” you say laughing, putting back the box of pop tarts. “y/n i’m telling you right now, in a couple of hours or days you’re gonna have me running back here for them,” jude states following behind you.

“am not!” you quickly defend, bringing a hand to your aching back. “are too! last night you had me running out for cheetos. what’s it going to be today? kettled popcorn? or wingstop?” jude teased making you rolls your eyes and focusing back on to what needed to get done. “don’t forget we need to pick some of that acid reflex stuff for you, to get rid of the heartburn,” jude reminds you, taking the cart and walking out of the pop tarts isle, sneaking a box in for you.

“what’s left on the list?” you ask him, taking out a small snack you had in your purse and offering some to jude. “we need bananas, strawberries, orange juice, and meats for upcoming dinners…” jude reads the list one by one, using his index finger as he goes along.

you pass by an isle grabbing some cereal and granola for your yogurts and bowls. jude insisting he grabs his favorite too since you refuse to share from your part. as you wait by the deli section jude come behind you, grabbing your belly and relieving some of the pressure.

you immediately lay your head back on his shoulder sighing in relief, hearing jude chuckle and place a kiss on your head. “almost there darling,” he whispered running one of his hands along your tummy. “i know what you’re doing jude… and if this baby starts kicking right now i’ll leave you here,” you warn.

“i’m just trying to help you love. doesn’t it feel good?” he reprimanded as you nodded. “yes but not when she starts kicking, i swear she does it on purpose and it’s your fault. like she knows it you,” you said feeling your lower back less tense and heavy. "i kid you not, last night she almost made me pee from this hard kick!"

"sounds to me like we have a mini footballer coming into our lives," said jude continuing to hold your belly since you were tired and your baby was heavy. he had read the method online with other tips and tricks. jude got more into reading when he found out you were pregnant, wanting to know every effect and secret to ensure a healthy and safe pregnancy.

"let's hope not, i don't think i could handle cleaning up broken stuff around the house every day," you sigh, releasing yourself from his hold because you began to get hot. you didn’t understand how your body was so quick to adjust and then de-adjust from hot and cold, but it was so easy and it drove you mad sometimes.

“you okay?” jude softened his eyes as you let out a breath of despair, holding your hand and feeling a sit squeezed tightly against his. “yeah just got a mini cramp,” you held your back and practiced breathing methods you learned, “i’m good, i promise,” you kiss his hand before retrieving the meats from the butcher. "we'll get home soon, and i promise you a warm tea and massage okay?"

"did you want chocolate or strawberry milk?" jude held up the pint containers, "strawberry, we still have chocolate milk at home," you said, jude nodding as he quickly picked the orange juice and your favorite yogurts. "i was never a fan of sweet or flavored milk but these are soooo good," you exaggerated, jude smiling hard down at you.

"never a fan? these were my childhood as a kid! my mum used to buy these or the powder to make it ourselves," jude says recalling a old memory thinking of his babygirl. "you reckon she'll like them too?" jude spoke softly as he saw you give him a fast nod. if there was one thing loved it was discussing his babygirl. he was so anxious and wanted to meet her. the itch in his teeth getting bigger as every day passes.

to hold her while she slept, hug her to keep her warm, coddle her to sleep, feed her. he was ready for it all. he loved to shop and spoil her already. her carrier, crib, different books, toys, and stuffed animals like he had as a kid. she didn't know it yet, but she would be jude's second best friend. firstly you. always you.

they saw if one ever finds love at first sight, and jude definitely did with you. a smile so bright, eyes gleaming with happiness, a stranger who he fell madly with almost immediately after hearing her say hello. through ups and downs, you found your way to each other and since then, it's a love story for the movies. jude had his career blowing, a beautiful fiancee, and now a baby on the way. what more could he want?

as jude helped bag the groceries into the recycled bags you had, you paid and thanked the cashier whom you got close with on nights like these. asking how her day was, about her kids, anything special, always something to distract her. "you two have a safe night!" she yelled as you turned and thanked, wishing her a good night as well.

after you insisted on helping, you carried four light bags as jude carried most bags since he hated double trips. you guys quickly unpacked everything, longing and wishing to get into bed. you ensure the stove and other appliances are off, grabbing your tea and heading upstairs with jude.

"lay here for me," jude instructed, grabbing some cream and begging to smooth and massage out the muscles on your legs and shoulders. "after we have her, i promise i'll return every single thing you did for me while i was pregnant," you say struggled and full pleasure as the tension went away at jude's fingertips. "oh i'm fully expecting the injured boyfriend method again," jude teased as he finished up.

he grabbed a new book, laying on your side as you brushed and played with a few curls on his head, twirling them around your finger as he breathed softly. he looked so gentle and full of excitement like this, reading to your babygirl, who sensed her daddy's voice as she kicked. she knew, she always knew.

he applied your belly oil to prevent any stretch marks and kissed the small ones that formed along the way. jude cherished your body for carrying his baby in there, for being able to give and bring a new life into his and yours. you laid on your side, jude's chest connecting and fitting the crevasse on your back, holding your tummy as in a way to keep it safe.

you placed and locked hands with his, as jude wishing you a goodnight, peering kissed on your shoulders then finally lips, moaning in delight, a tiny groan leaving his lips. "i love you so much darling," he whispered, kissing your temple and snuggling into you more. "iloveyoutoojude," you said fast, with a playful smile on your lips as you felt a familiar sensation of a certain craving. "okay now i do want some pop tarts..."

"are you serious right now?"

#jude bellingham #judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #football fanfic #footballer #football x reader

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sunnymoonxx · 2 months

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❝what was rule number #2 again❞ I.| bucky barnes x reader

pairing: tfatws bucky x reader summary: messing around in banner's lab, the night before your mission wasn't as good an idea as you thought, and you begin to question your actions the moment you step out of it. things worsen when you realize the super soldier serum isn't immune to an unknown contagious disease. warnings: sex pollen, no warnings this part, the II one? hahaha

a/n: I may have insulted the reader a few times in the beginning, so I apologize for that. but let's be honest, we'd do the same. I decided to split this fic into two parts because if I wrote it all into one part, it'd have 10k words. I'm not an english native speaker, so forgive me my sins and bad grammar if you find something.

m.list

You weren't stupid. But you also weren't exactly smart. If you were, you would've minded your own business, stayed in the gym, and went through the plan for tomorrow's mission. Maybe even go to bed a little sooner, to be ready for the next day's alarm. But Banner was away for a business trip, and seeing his lab silent and alone didn't exactly sing you lullabies to sleep. That's why you found yourself standing in the heart of it at 3 a.m., in your pajamas, praying everyone was asleep. It was well known around the compound that Banner's and Stark's labs were a faraway island, and anybody with a brain would circle around them. But you were an excellent swimmer and sharks didn't scare you.

10 hours later, you realised why Banner turned green every time someone even glared the glass door of his science play room. You were a fast swimmer but not exactly a bright one. The only bright thing related to you was that you were easily struck by it. And the glowing pink flowers in Doc's terrarium took you down faster than the sharks. It was bright pink with purple shadows. It reminded you of passionflower, but it was bigger. Way bigger, and you weren't sure if you were hallucinating, but the feeling of the flower's filaments moving was too strong. They were moving in waves, then circles, then each moved in its own way. It was mesmerising.

It was too late before you realized you moved the flower out of its enclosure to get a closer look at it. The smell hit you hard, filling your brain with colorful fog. You smelled a dash of cinnamon, mixed with ginger and lavender. You couldn't miss the powerful vanilla and pumpkin filling up the room. You didn't realize how bad the consequences of smelling Doc's flower would be until you came undone under your fingers nearly seven times. And it still wasn't enough. The scheduled time of your and Barnes' meeting was quickly approaching, and your skin didn't feel less on fire than it did two hours ago.

You managed to get out of the sweaty mattress and put some clothes on you, loose ones, hoping that your skin could breathe a little. You prayed some air would cool you down, clear your head, and slap some sense into you. It was now obvious why Banner was so determined not to let anyone close his lab. He was experimenting with aphrodisiacs, and you, unwillingly, became one of his lab rats. Thoughts didn't stop multiplying in your head until one landed steadily on its feet. Tony has been visiting Doc's labs the last few weeks, five minutes on the dot after curfew. You knew because you were always stationed on your balcony, which gave you a clear view of the other building, and its glass windows didn't hide much. It only became pitch black when Tony came in, and Banner didn't even flinch when he heard the door shut.

Chuckle left your lips when you connected the dots, ignoring how amusing you must look for Barnes, sitting right next to him.

"Something funny?" he asked, not dropping his gaze off of you. You were now on your way to the target's last seen place, being lucky enough to get a ride in Tony's self-driven car. You wanted to drown him in kisses because you can only imagine the suffering if you had to walk all the way from the compound to the other side of the city. Your skin was still on fire, your hair was sticking to your neck, and salty drops chased each other on your skin. You certainly were an amusing sight to Bucky. Or a terrifying one. You wished he got used to it by now. After all these years of fighting against each other, then with each other, and now forced to fight by each other's side, he saw you through worse conditions. But as far as he knew, you were locked in your room all week. You had no reason to look like you had an early meeting with the reaper.

"Just, thinking," you mumbled back at him, forcing yourself to keep your head rested against your seat, begging your body to not betray you for looking back at your partner. Your body fighting the chemicals in your body, you could only imagine how it would end if you stared at Barnes for more than five seconds. Worse, let alone if you touched him. You read about aphrodisiacs and scientists' failed attempts to know what you were going through. You were prepared to die before touching Barnes.

You were secretly jealous. It wasn't fair of you, but Barnes' serum running through his veins protected him from anything related. You almost abandoned your morals, but the pain you were going through justified it. You had no idea how you were going to focus on the mission, communicate with James, and, if it came to it, fight the target. You could only focus on the heat between your legs and how touch-starved you were. And your, undeniably, attractive coworker wasn't helping the case.

You and James had a complicated history. Both born in the 40s and dated for a while before he fell from the train. Years later, he comes to kill you for Howard's successful experiment on you. Immortality would definitely suit HYDRA and their planned assassinations. James, back then, the Winter Soldier, failed to capture you, so they decided your family's fate. And your friends. Then, years later, Howard's. You forgave him. All of it. Because you knew it wasn't him. But when he came back from Wakanda, with no traces of HYDRA in him, and didn't spare you a glance, you couldn't forgive him that. Seventy years of tolerating the actions HYDRA made him do, and he couldn't even look at you. It broke your heart but rather to act like a cunt than a weepy baby, begging for attention that will never come.

"Well then, do it fast. We're almost there." You hear his grumpy voice, making the butterflies in your stomach double their count. The decades-old memories of you together overwhelmed your brain like a tsunami. You couldn't swim out of that. The way his tongue circled your clit as you played with his hair at the theatre restroom. Or when he made you ride his face with Steve in the house. The way he pounded into you against the wall so you wouldn't forget him when he gets shipped out the next morning. And the way he had to cover your mouth that night at the bar, celebrating his unit's rescue. Now he was sitting millimetres away from you, and he wouldn't have done any of it. You still hoped, subconsciously, he'd dick you down like he did all those years ago. But that was a fantasy. Very vivid, real fantasy.

"Yes, sir," you let out, closing your eyes, tugging on your shirt so your fingers wouldn't accidentally slip in between your thighs. You didn't wanna make a scene. Even tho at some point, you knew you would.

You didn't catch James' hungry gaze when he heard those words slip from your mouth. At the back of his head, he reminiscent the amount of times it was him, slipping out of it.

It took you exactly 17 minutes before you got yourself out of Tony's car. You accidentally grinded yourself on his leather seats, causing you to accidentally moan, and of course, Barnes caught it. He'd never miss that sweet sound leaving your lips. At nights, he wished he'd made you sound like that, even louder. But that was ages ago, and you were over him. It was the only thing that made sense to him.

Five minutes into your romantic stroll to the target's office, the wetness in your panties got worse. You figured the more you moved, the less it hurt, but the pleasure doubled. And the Avengers training lessons didn't exactly cover how to act if you're orgasming every five seconds just because your thighs rubbed against each other.

Correction, you didn't actually cum. It was more of a frustrating edging that made you wanna rip out your hair. You were sure Barnes had already figured something was off or had at least suspected something. The suppressed moans and the tugging on your crotch weren't exactly subtle.

"Alright," he stopped walking, a few meters away from a huge building. It was surrounded by a deep forest, straight from a horror movie. "he was last seen inside. If Steve's correct, we should..." You kept nodding, not actually paying attention to what he was saying. It was the way his metal arm moved when he talked and the way his fingers curled while explaining the plan. You never got the answer to your question if he could feel through his amputated arm. He had to, you thought. You heard him groan every time someone pulled it too hard. You were embarrassed how much it roused you when you heard him whimper in pain, but it was also one of the things that circled your head when you were alone in your room.

You'd imagine, would it feel different. It would definitely be cold, rougher, you suspected faster. And with the serum running in his veins, he'd definitely last longer. That, you were one hundred percent sure, for it was Natasha's moans you heard for over two days after she and Steve finally hit it off. But Nat was also a super soldier. Bucky would probably tire you out by the 2nd round. But you were willing to risk it.

"If you're not gonna be listening to me, then you can turn around and go back." Was the first thing you heard after you forced yourself out of Bucky's hand around your throat fantasies. It probably wasn't the best idea, but seeing Bucky frustrated and annoyed by your incompetence made you feel things. And you wanted more.

"Whatever you want, Sergeant." You smirked, walking past him towards the building. His smell punched you in the face, making your walls clench around nothing. Fuck. Your self-control was harder to put in check. You were sure in a few minutes it'd be non-existent.

"Whatever is your problem today," you heard him behind you. You didn't look at him, focusing on keeping a steady pace towards the building so you could finish the job, get home where you could fuck yourself to oblivion. No one, but your fingers were currently available. And even they couldn't sometimes do the job you needed. But you knew whose would.

"I'm talking to you." Your heart dropped when his hand landed on your shoulder. Your skin got warmer again, and the pulse between your legs was impossible to ignore. You didn't know if you wanted to kill him or fuck him.

Ideally, both.

Turning around, you found the strength to twist his arm, finding out it was his human one, making it easier to push him back. He looked so taken back that it was amusing. But not amusing enough to stop the aching of your cunt.

"Touch me again," and I won't answer for the consequences. You wanted to add. But you didn't. Instead, you stared back at him, praying to god you'd drop dead or something would happen to stop the throbbing pain. You wanted to push your pants down and do something about it, but Bucky's presence wouldn't let you. It would, seventy years ago.

God, the number of times he made you rub yourself in front of him, fuck yourself while he watched. Couldn't he do it now? You'd happily obey.

"You've been acting distant ever since morning," he said, taking a step closer. "I just wanna know what's wrong," he said, lowering his voice at the end. You were sure it was just the stupid plant making you see things, but Bucky's dark eyes were hard to miss. Or the sweat on his forehead. Or the way he clenched his jaw when his eyes dropped to your lips.

Your heart sank. Holy fuck.

You couldn't help but laugh. It was, after all, comical. You looked manic but that didn't bother you. You felt so many emotions at once that you struggled to choose one.

"What the hell are you doing," you heard his voice interrupt your laugh. You were out of your mind. Your legs weak and sweaty, your cunt covered in your wetness, your head filled with migraine, skin on fire, and thoughts surrounding only one thing. And now, cherry on top, you realize Banner discovered an aphrodisiacs that make the super soldier serum its bitch. James motherfucking Barnes joined the lab rats of Banner's sex research.

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honeyedmiller · 3 months

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Real Love, Baby | Joel Miller

pairing: husband!joel miller x wife!reader

rating: none

warnings: no outbreak, lots of fluff, and some good ol’ joel miller lovin’ and a few kisses. no use of y/n.

word count: 904

synopsis: joel has a bad day at work, but seeing you dancing in the kitchen makes it all better.

a/n: based on the song real love baby by father john misty

divider by @saradika-graphics

Joel deeply sighed as he parked his truck in the driveway. He closed his eyes for a few beats, pinching the bridge of his nose as his bad mood kept festering in his chest, daring to settle into his aching bones.

He had a terrible day at work. Though, terrible doesn’t even do the day justice. He knew you were going to ask about his day, which was routine now, but he truly didn’t want to talk about his day from hell.

He knew seeing you and Sarah would make it all better, though.

He groaned as he hopped out his truck, stretching his sore limbs before grabbing his toolbox and heading for the door.

When he opened it, the aroma of dinner flooded his senses and a song playing mid-level from the vinyl player wafted from the kitchen. He set his tools down by the front door, toeing off his work boots before making his way to the kitchen.

He paused when he saw you, totally enamored as you swayed your hips and sang along to the song.

“I’m in love, I’m alive, I belong to the stars in the sky,” You sing unashamedly, never noticing the watchful eye of your husband. You stir the pot of what seemed to be noodles a few times before checking on the sauce cooking next to it, humming to the song as you swayed your hips some more.

The horrible day Joel’s had rolls off of the weight of his chest and shoulders, dissipating into thin air as he leans on the wall, crossing his arms. A smile curls onto his lips, replacing the frown that’d seemed indefinite the whole day.

His heart bloomed with warmth as you twirled, eyes closed, before focusing on dinner again. You opened the oven to take out the Texas toast, and Joel quietly hummed to himself as he realized what you made for dinner.

“I want real love baby, oh don’t leave me waiting, I’ve got real love maybe, wait until you taste me,” You sang again, and he pushed himself off of the wall to make his way toward you, finally making his presence known.

His hands settled on your hips and you gasped, laughing as you set a hand over your rapidly beating heart.

“Scared me, baby.” You huff, smiling at the handsome man as you spun around in his grip.

“Don’t stop dancin’ n’ singin’ now just cus I’m here, honey.” He teases, pressing a kiss to your lips as he starts swaying you to the song. You fold your hands behind his neck, leaning into him with a grin on your lips.

“How much did you see and hear?” You quirk your brow, moving one hand down to rest over his strong heartbeat in his warm chest.

“Just about enough to fall in love with you even more, darlin’.” He winks, and you playfully roll your eyes.

“Such a sweet talker you are, Miller.”

“What can I say? I’m crazy for my wife.” He grins before pressing his lips to yours, longer this time, before humming against your lips.

“Where’s Sarah?” He asks, rubbing small circles into your hips with his thumbs.

“Doing homework upstairs.”

“Mm. Dinner smells delicious.” Joel says, jutting his chin toward the pots on the stove that sat alongside the sheet of Texas toast.

“Thanks baby. Sarah and I decided on chicken alfredo. Hope you don’t mind.” You say, lightly scratching the back of Joel’s neck with your fingertips.

“Not at all, baby.” He tosses you a saccharine smile, resting his forehead against yours.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, always cherishing these intimate moments with Joel. Your love for him only grew by the day, always telling yourself how lucky you are you found a man like him.

He was your best friend, your life partner, your soulmate. You didn’t believe in any of that stuff before you met him, and now, you’re two years married and you still feel like you’re in the honeymoon stage.

“How was your day, baby?” You ask, retracting your forehead from his in the slightest so you could kiss the tip of his nose.

A groan rumbles in his sturdy chest and his eyebrows pinch together.

“Rather not talk about it, darlin’. Wanna dance with you instead.” He separates himself from you, grabbing hold of your hands as they slip off his body. He sways you back and forth before twirling you into his chest so your back against his front, rocking you side to side before planting a kiss to your cheek.

He twirls you again, and he can’t help but melt at your laugh and the way you look right now. So carefree, so full of love, so beautiful.

He grins as he pulls you to his chest gently, dipping your body down in his arms. He holds you there as the song comes to an end, those beautiful brown eyes of his boring into yours. You can’t help the lovestruck look that crosses your face.

He’ll never get tired of seeing that look.

He leans down to kiss you once more. It lasts more than a few seconds as his free hand that isn’t holding your body up cups your cheek, calloused thumb gently swiping over your soft skin.

“Oh– jeez,” Sarah’s voice startles you both, pulling apart from each other with a huff of a laugh.

“Get a room, you two!”

tags: @party-hearses ; @ilovepedro ; @punkshort ; @joelsgreys ; @nostalxgic ; @tinygarbage ; @bastardmandennis ; @pamasaur ; @cool-iguana ; @pascalpvnk

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #no outbreak!joel miller #husband! joel miller #pedro pascal imagines #joel miller imagines #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader

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loveindefinitely · 3 months

Text

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

10 — I'D KISS YOU AS THE LIGHTS WENT OUT

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. read on wattpad. fanfic playlist.

<- previous part | next part ->

[I HIGHLY RECOMMEND LISTEN TO DANCING WITH OUR HANDS TIED BY TAYLOR SWIFT FOR THIS CHAPTER FOR THE BEST EXPERIENCE!]

The wraps, as promised, taste heavenly.

“Fuck,” you moan around a mouthful, covering your face’s lower half with your hand. As you chew around the food, then swallow, you move your palm to beam at Gaz, whose chin rests on his fist, split between watching you eat and looking through a notebook.

“Glad I can add you to my list of customers, Sweetheart,” he smiles, skimming through his book, the lamp standing in the corner of the room your only source of light. It’s well past midnight, now, curtains drawn and the lights of the hallway turned off.

“Seriously,” you use a napkin to wipe at the corners of your mouth, “That was like. Orgasmic.”

He huffs a laugh, dropping his notebook on his bed, arms outstretched behind him as he leans back against them, legs spread. You sit at his small desk, the wooden chair uncomfortable underneath you, but durable.

“Your shoulder feeling alright?” He asks, lazily looking over your form, dark features soft in the dim light. He looks like sin incarnate, and you feel as helpless as a moth to a flame.

Rotating your shoulder a bit, you shrug. “Hardly feel a thing. Get used to the pain, after a while.”

He hums, before moving to stand, heading to his wardrobe and looking through it. Having changed out of his uniform, he now adorns a faded green shirt and deep grey sweats, not unlike your own.

“Looking for Narnia?” You taunt, making sure that the desk is free of crumbs as you stand, moving over to stand behind him. “Think pushing you in could help?”

Moving back, you regret your words as you see the instrument in his hands.

“You…” You swallow. “You play guitar?” Looking to him, entranced by the tendons in his hands, the intricate wood of the acoustic in his gentle grip. The pick hanging from the chain around his neck makes sense, now.

If his cheeky grin is breathtaking in the light of day, it’s deathly stunning in the darkness of night.

“Yeah. I play guitar,” he mocks, giving back what you gave. With a jerk of his head, he encourages you to sit beside him on his bed, which you do quickly.

“Playing and being good at are very different things,” you retort, but you find the usual energy in your words is lacking. You don’t entirely believe them, not with the way you’re watching his hands, the way he so carefully holds the instrument. The way he had so carefully held you.

Positioning the guitar to be played, he leans his head back, looking to the roof with a soft hum, contemplating. Folding your legs beneath yourself, you watch him with lidded eyes as he starts to slowly strum unmatched notes. Gathering a feel for his rhythm, the weight of the guitar in his hands, the tempo playing in his head.

“Don’t make fun of me,” he warns, shooting you a knowing look as he starts to hum along to a broken tune. “I’m not known for my singing.”

Your chuckle is a light, airy thing. “If I know the song, maybe I’ll join in,” you shrug, body loose where you sit.

The lighting, the smell of boy in his room, that masculine scent you can’t quite place, and the heat of his body, it’s all a concoction for comfort. You feel oddly safe, protected, like you belong, maybe, if such a thing is possible for someone like you.

Clearing his throat, Gaz gets comfortable, starting to build a rhythm where he strums his calloused fingers against the strings, his other hand moving around the neck with practised ease.

I loved you in secret

First sight, we loved without reason

Oh, twenty-five years old

Oh, how were you to know?

You feel trapped, almost, fully encompassed by the beauty of his skill, the beauty of his voice – the beauty of him. His hair looks suddenly too pullable, like it exists purely for you to grip onto and hold against your aching body.

When was the last time you’d done anything close to romantic? Sexual?

Being with Graves was like using your own hand. Maybe worse, on a bad day, and it had rarely been a pleasurable experience.

Right here, with Gaz softly playing the guitar, dim light haloed around him, voice velvet against burning hot coal, feels closer to freedom than sex with your Commander ever had.

An angel.

Kyle Garrick looks like an angel.

All smooth skin and dimples, light freckles and saccharine smiles. The light smell of citrus and cleanliness, honey and mildew. With the lamp where it is, it colours the tips of his curls, highlights the depth of his face, the chocolate of his stunning eyes.

Like a punch to your gut, you realise the effect this man has on you.

In a way no one else – not before leaving Graves – ever has.

And darling, you had turned my bed into a sacred oasis

People started talking, putting us through our paces

I knew there was no one in the world that could take it

I had a bad feeling

Focused on his hands, the placement, the speed – Gaz doesn’t notice the way you watch him. How you hang onto his every movement, the indent his teeth leave on his lower lip, the dip of his brow, the slope of his nose.

If only you could preserve this moment in time forever.

Where nothing mattered, but you and him. There was no impending doom in the form of Phillip Graves, no distrust in the eyes of Ghost, no haunting spectre from your past.

Just you and Gaz and his music.

Your heart aches with the bittersweet of it all. How nothing would be normal, not after the past few days. But maybe now, just for one night, you could pretend to be normal. Pretend that it was just you and a friend spending time together.

Pretend that everything’s okay, and your world as you know it isn’t falling apart at the seams around you.

Pretend that you’re okay.

I’d kiss you as the lights went out

Swaying as the room burned down

I’d hold you as the water rushes in

If I could dance with you again

He feels so close. In every sense of the world. And you yearn and you yearn and you yearn.

For what? For a sense of belonging? Haven’t you always yearned for that – desperate to hide the loneliness in your chest and replace it with bravado? Pretend that your baggage is simply a crate locked and stored away forever?

The beat in your chest, matching the beat of the song, Gaz’s skillful fingers against the strings. Oh, how you suddenly wish to be a poet, just to capture the feeling within you with mere words against paper.

What was it like to be loved?

Honestly and deeply – earnest and true. To be held against a chest for the simple feat of existing, that very truth alone enough to be deserving of such a gesture. The very thought sounds so perfect, now, to be cherished in such a pure way. But who could give that to you?

Gaz?

A fool’s hope. A fool’s dream.

Dancing with our hands tied, hands tied

Yeah, we were dancing

Like it was the first time, first time

Yeah, we were dancing

With the final strum of the final note, you understand what being alive is truly like.

The two of you sit in silence, for a moment, and it’s like a hurricane of emotion and need and want crashes into you all at once, leaving you breathless.

As he, at last, looks back up to you, expression almost shy, every word evaporates from your brain. Like a drop of water against a barren desert floor. Gone.

“How’d I do?” He asks, voice breathy and tense and oh.

You feel so, so utterly lost.

Nodding, hand gripping the sheet atop his bed, you wet your bottom lip. “Good. I’m – you’re really good, Kyle.”

His name tastes like dew on your tongue, a blessing to even say the syllables, form the sounds in your mouth. A gift from the gods, a treasure to be varnished and cared for.

Sparkling brown eyes track the movement of your mouth, his own eyes half-lidded and hazy in the low light, and your stomach heats with something you’re not sure you want to place. Something you’re not sure you’re allowed to.

“We should get some sleep,” you find yourself saying, almost on autopilot.

Gaz nods, eyes still transfixed on your mouth, before shaking his head lightly as if to gather his thoughts once more. He gets up, stiff in his movements, carefully putting the guitar away.

“You sure you’re fine sharing a bed?” He asks, ever careful and gentle.

“Yeah,” you say, a breath, “It’s fine. I’m a soldier, I’ve experienced worse.” An attempt of a joke, one that falls flat in the unbreakable tension of the small room. “Do you have a bathroom?”

He jerks a nod. “The four of us get special treatment ‘round here. Ensuite. Help yourself.”

Getting up on shaky legs, you give him a quick smile, before heading in to brush your teeth and splash your face.

When you look in the mirror, you see a version of yourself that makes you wipe at your eyes.

You look. New. Changed. Different. Any multitude of words to say that you aren’t the same woman that you were days ago. Not the same woman you were under Graves’ leadership, and certainly not the same woman that you were under Shepherd’s training.

If only she could see herself now.

Using the hand towel to wipe off the water, you allow yourself a moment to expel the air from your lungs, and inhale deeply.

Shutting the door behind you with a soft creak, you find the lamp to be turned off, the only light coming from Gaz’s phone as he scrolls through it, laying on his side against the wall.

Awkwardly, you find yourself moving to lay down beside him.

“Sorry,” you whisper when you brush against his arm, the narrow design allowing for next-to-no room for either of you.

Squeezing in closer to the wall, he murmurs back, “It’s alright. Just make sure you’re comfortable.”

Silence falls between the two of you as you get yourself situated, managing to not press against the man again. He’s silent, except for a few breaths, as he looks through his phone. As soon as you’re still, however, he shuts it off, plugging it in and leaving it to sit underneath his pillow.

Sleep clings to your eyelids, a taunting thing, but your body still feels the need to move – to release the energy building up within your limbs.

Minutes pass, like the tick of an analog clock.

It’s about ten minutes of silence, before Gaz breaks it with graceful ignorance.

“You feelin’ alright?” He asks, truly meaning the words – and expecting a proper answer. The ruffle of the singular blanket has you focusing on his movements, but he does nothing more than roll over, facing you now.

“It’s,” you nervously look to the roof, the pitch black of the room doing nothing to aid your internal dilemma. “It’s just a bit cold.”

“It is, innit?” Gaz nervously laughs, and his obvious hesitance, surprisingly, has you more comfortable. You, too, roll over, your faces mere centimetres apart. He seems so warm. Even without the ability to see, you can almost feel his eyes searching your face, desperate for answers to questions he doesn’t want to ask.

What is to live, if not to take risks? The only reason you were here, in this very bed right now was because of a risk, right?

His breath fans against your face, and even that small warmth has you leaning in closer to the Sergeant. As he swallows, it’s an audible sound, the slope of his neck bobbing with the movement.

“Can I hold you?” He asks, a gentle thing, and without a word, you curl up against him.

Bulky, trained, masculine arms wrap around your torso, pulling you in close, sharing the warmth of your body with his own. Your face buries against his shoulder, into his neck, and his scent is so him that it has you burrowing in further. His own hands tighten in the fabric of your borrowed shirt, and what a feeling it is.

You can only wish that you never escape the hold of his arms, if only so you don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, without his frame to keep you upright.

“You’re so soft,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear as he speaks. His hands move in circles, a kind motion, and you melt against him.

His thigh slides between your own, an unexpected motion, and you barely conceal a whimper as it slides against your clothed pussy. The sweats do nothing to conceal the heat, the ache you feel between your legs, and the sudden presence of him has you freezing up.

Without a word, he just lets it rest there, continuing to rub soothing circles on your back.

Your lips fall open, spit-slicken, and your nails bite into his back as he leans in closer, pushing his thigh in closer to your core.

Your breaths become shared in the small space between you two, harried and genuine in the sudden intensity between you both.

“Sergeant,” you breathe, brows furrowed, mouth open as he leans in closer, hands slowly moving from your back, trailing down to your hips, pulling you forward against his thigh.

It's quiet, for a moment, a gentle pause in the current rushing between you both. His hand smoothes over your cheek, cautious and adoring, a reassurance more than anything.

Your eyes flutter shut.

“Colonel,” he returns, and presses his lips against yours.

His mouth moves against your own, sensual and slow, easing in the way he darts his tongue over your lips, meeting your tongue. He tastes like the sweetest of candies, a forbidden fruit’s nectar. Hand moving from your cheek to your neck, he pulls you in closer, turning his head to devour you against his pillow.

A moan slips from you, drowned out by his being melding with your own as he grinds his thigh higher, a perfect pleasure shooting up your spine at the movement.

Thoughts are a difficult thing, at the moment, a rare commodity. When your brain comes back online, you’re sure to hold some regret – but now? With his soft lips on yours, his grip on your neck, the bulk of his thigh? Regret is the last thing on your mind.

When he breaks away, finally, to breathe, a soft sigh escapes his plush mouth.

“Is this okay?” He asks, the words asked in a whisper against the corner of your mouth as he presses gentle kisses along your cheek, the crease of your eye. “Please, love, tell me.”

Your exhale is shaky, but you nod, meeting his lips with a turn of your head. A quick, reassuring exchange.

“Yeah,” you chuckle lightly, thighs squeezing around his, tits pressed against his own flat chest, “This is okay, Kyle.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he gasps, a devotion, before moving to straddle you, hands falling into your hair like a lifeline as he ravages your mouth once more. Small nips to your lips, a tongue searching your own, his pelvis pressed tightly against your soaking pussy.

“Fuck,” you whimper, turning your head to breathe as he moves one hand to slowly follow your frame, brushing your collarbones, tugging at the fabric of your shirt. Your nipples feel unbearably tight, achey, and you’re desperate for his touch.

“Can I take this off, love?” He asks – a plea, really. “Let me see your pretty tits.”

You’re nodding, frantic, as he pulls the shirt over your head, helping you sit up a bit to take it off entirely, throwing it to the floor with little care.

His hands are warm against your cold chest, careful as they first graze your tits, both of you letting out tense breaths as he cradles them in his hands, feeling out the weight of them, entranced. The heel of his palm presses against your nipples, and you let out a small cry as he rubs them in those circles he loves so much.

“Shh, Sweetheart,” he whispers, noting your noises. “I’ll take good care of ya. Y’know I will.”

Your eyes shut as he leans in, licking a stripe across the expanse of your breasts, using one hand to squeeze while he uses his mouth to treat your most needy spots.

Hand moving to rest at the nape of his neck, you form a tight fist in his hair, pulling him in closer to your body. He lets out a low hum, the vibration of the sound sending sparks shooting behind your eyelids as he toys with your nipples, meticulous.

“Sergeant,” you whine, breathless, wanting, “Sergeant, please.”

He moves away from worshipping your tits to meet your lips, licking into your mouth with the energy and fervour of a virgin. The brush of your naked chest against his clothed torso has you aching.

“Colonel,” he challenges, tugging at your lower lip with his teeth, drawing a drop of blood, “Let me lick your pussy, love, c’mon. I’ll kiss ‘er real nice.”

You’re helpless to do anything but nod.

With one hand, he undoes the tie of your sweats, pulling down the pants as he goes. Lifting your legs with ease, he takes them off all the way, chucking it over the edge of the bed to join your shirt.

His hands rub soothingly over your bare skin, slowly moving upwards on his knees until he meets your thighs. Leaning down, like a beggar at an altar, he starts to leave open-mouthed kisses on the skin near your pulsing heat, sucking on the unseen area and leaving behind marks. His hands hold onto your hips like they’ll provide him mercy.

Both hands in his hair, lightly pulling, you start to grind against his face when he starts leaving kisses around your folds, fingers leaving imprints with the viciousness of his grasp around your hips.

Your mind feels numb, no goals, no thoughts, other than that of pleasure.

The first lick against your pussy has a desperate whimper bubbling out of you, nails scraping against his scalp as he flicks his tongue over your swollen clit. There’s a viciousness to it, one that he embraces, his teeth softly grazing your tender bud as he caresses you.

“Oh,” you moan, head flung back, mouth fallen open as you grind against his giving mouth. “Fuck. Please. Feels so good.”

He pulls away, just far enough back so his lips brush against your core as he whispers, “Gotta stay quiet, love, yeah?” Smoothing his hand over your stomach, pressing you down further into his bed, you clasp one hand over your mouth.

Smirking against your thigh, he praises, “Atta girl.”

Your lower stomach burns with need, and you feel electricity line your veins as he savours your taste, keeping you pinned to the mattress with his calloused hand. He’s passionate about it, laving over your pussy with precise strokes. Your thighs squeeze around his head, and in response, he only lets out a long, drawn-out moan, muffled by your body.

His finger moves to rub at your entrance, rubbing softly around it, before slowly thrusting his index finger in.

Swallowing a whine, you pull him in closer, your stomach tightening as he pushes in a second finger. He’s good with it – knows where to touch, how deep, the movements. Practised and skillful in his strokes – a musician, through and through.

“God, Kyle, you’re doing so good,” you mumble, hair splayed on the pillow beneath you as you rut against him, using him for your own gain. It feels perfect, the way he’s putting your pleasure over anything else.

So unlike any other man you’ve been with.

“If I could spend my days with you sitting on my face,” Gaz admires, leaning back, heaving deep breaths, continuing to lazily finger you as your grip loosens in his hair, “I’d do it in a heartbeat, Colonel.”

“Don’t stop calling me that,” you order, tightening your grip once more and pulling him back. He goes without a word, energy increasing tenfold, two fingers turning into three. He goes at it like a man starved, and the noises that leave your lips are nothing but sex-addled.

He tries to reply, but it’s muffled as he continues to eat you out, relentless in his devotion to the act.

Hand softly moving from your stomach, he outstretches it, searching for your own hand with small squeezes. When you shakily meet it with your own, he intertwines them, pushing them to the mattress with strength and determination. With every thrust of his other hand, or lick of his tongue, he tightens his grip.

You find your core tightening, your release coming up quick as he plays you like the instrument now lying in his wardrobe. The pure darkness of the room only aids the sensuality of it all, the air existing between just the two of you.

Any thought of right and wrong feel nothing but unnecessary, now, and utterly pointless. What's the purpose of worrying about the morality of it all, when you're both consenting and wanting and ready? When it feels so fucking good to have him servicing you between your legs?

If only you could see him, the beauty of his pussy-drunk face, the glisten of you on the stubble of his chin.

“I'm close, Sergeant, fuck,” you gasp, gyrating your hips against him, his nose bumping your clit where he licks in your entrance.

He doubles his efforts, fingering and savouring and worshipping.

Your release comes when he broadly licks over your clit, fingers pressing against just the right spot inside of you, his moan a small vibration against your sensitive bud. Keening, hand coming up to slam over your mouth, a tear drops from your clenched eyes as you ride out the aftershocks.

Allowing you to use him for the last few moments of pleasure, he doesn’t untwine your hands, but he does stop fingering you to rub at your thigh in reassuring circles.

When your hips start stuttering, your keens turning into overstimulated whimpers, he slowly moves away, licking over the essence coating his mouth and lower face. His hand still remains in your own as he leans in, opening your mouth with languid strokes and smooth kisses. You arch into it, breasts pressing against his still clothed chest.

Breaking away from the embrace, thumb stroking over your inner wrist, he brings up his slicken hand.

“Gotta clean up your mess, love,” he gently encourages, opening your jaw with a soft grip of your chin, before slowly dragging his fingers over your waiting tongue. His breath brushes your cheek as he explores your mouth.

“Sergeant,” you mumble around the intrusion, eyes blissfully shut, “Need to make you feel good too.”

He freezes, a moment, a barely noticeable thing. “Makin’ you feel good got me off. Don’t worry, Colonel – next time.”

Now it’s your turn to freeze as he extracts his fingers, wiping them off on his own shirt. “Next time? I,” you swallow, “What is this, even? What are we doing?”

Reality and consequences and everything hit you all at once, your chest tightening even in the afterglow of your orgasm.

He furrows his brows, untwining his fingers from yours and rubbing soothing patterns over your hand, his other carefully pulling back your messy hair behind your ears. “We can’t tell the guys,” he admonishes, slowing his movements as he realises. “We can’t – they’ll crucify us both, and –”

“And?” You ask as he trails off, your brows matching his, now, as he rolls to his side, pulling your back to his chest. He rubs at your waist, your hips, lips pressed to the back of your neck.

“Nothing,” he’s quick to amend, “Don’t worry about it. Just… focus on the feeling. Gonna be a shit show, the next couple of days. Lay with me, get some rest.”

You hum, non-committal. Relaxing further against him, his head resting in the crook of your neck, your breaths come out slow and calm. “You and Price,” you start, a niggling in the back of your mind that yearns for information causing you to speak the words. “The two of you – you’re different.”

He halts his movements, head slowly moving back from your neck. “What – what do you mean?”

Hand searching behind you, you pull him back in, his head burrowing further against your shoulder, your skin. You try and think of the best way to put it, the comfortable silence helping you gather your thoughts as you do.

“You’re… You like him, don’t you?”

Gaz’s responding laugh is grating, a choked off thing, a sad one. Your heart sinks to your feet, his body suddenly stiff against your own.

“No. I don’t like my Cap,” he huffs, indignant. Like it’s the craziest thing you’ve ever said, and not something based on quiet observation.

“You’re sure? Or is it just that you think he doesn’t like you?”

He pauses. Stilling, but processing your words for what they are. His response is a sceptic, “Like is a juvenile idea, anyways, Sweetheart.”

“I like you,” you admit, words soft as they leave your mouth, kind. Genuine.

“If it was that simple, everyone would be too busy getting with everyone they liked to live,” he admonishes, just as soft, as respectful. He’s so introspective – the most underestimated of the 141, but the most receptive. Understanding and watchful.

“It can be that simple. Sometimes.”

“Didn’t realise you were a dreamer, Colonel.”

“What else combats the nightmares?”

Silence. Your most common enemy and foe, fills in the blanks between you both. He holds you against him tight, now, like you’re an anchor, and he’s a yacht in the stormiest of seas.

“We can’t tell ‘em,” Gaz states after the silence takes hold for minutes on end. “We’re dead if we do – can’t let ‘em figure it out, either.”

“It was just a lapse in judgement,” you say, not believing the words as they fall from your lips. Hate yourself for saying them. “No one has to know. I’ll be out of your hair after this is all done with, anyways.”

He doesn’t respond to that. Not for a long while.

It’s only when you’re a single step away from sleep that he does.

“I really hope that’s another lie, Sweetheart.”

“Gaz, Sweetheart – get yer arses up, Laswell got more intel!”

You groan, lazily rolling onto your back, body burning hot from your bedmate’s clinging form. His arms hand around your waist, his entire being pressed against you, snoring softly where his chin rests atop your head.

Wiping at the sleep from your eyes, bleary and tired, you groan when Gaz just squeezes you tighter, pressing his face to your bed-hair.

That same voice calls from outside the door once more, loud knocking following his Scottish lilt.

“Aye swear to god, if either of ye are naked or I see jizz–”

“We’re up! We’re up!” You call out, cheeks heating from how on the nose his joking goad is. “Give us a minute!”

“Hurry up, Sweetheart, or aye will carry ye out over my bloody shoulder.”

Gaz yelps when you scramble out of bed and pull the covers clean off, uncaring of your naked frame as you hop on one leg to tug on the spare sweatpants from last night.

He shoves a pillow over his eyes as you rip open the window’s curtains, allowing the late morning light to filter in as you tug on your shirt. His sweatpants hang loosely around you, and you tie them off with one hand while the other pulls at his arm.

“Gaz – get up!” You hiss as he tries to hit your arm away, you dodging every half-hearted swing with ease. “Unless you want Soap to come in and –”

“Fuck, woman, I’m up!” He instantly acquiesces, sitting as soon as the name Soap leaves your mouth.

You try to hide your smirk, but you obviously fail miserably, as a moment later a pillow is flung into your face. Hands on your hips, you raise a brow, glaring at the man rubbing his palms over his eyes.

Moving to the door, you open it, focusing entirely on not looking like the cat who got the cream.

Technically speaking, Gaz fit that description more accurately, but you weren’t about to get into the logistics. Not when Soap looks at you, then over your shoulder, then back at you. You swallow.

“Mornin’, Sleepin’ Beauty,” he winks, and you barely suppress a groan. He pulls you in with an elbow around your neck, rubbing at your bed hair with a chuckle. “Or is Rapunzel more fittin’?”

“If she’s Rapunzel, you’re the bloody chameleon, you twat!” Gaz calls from further in the room, walking over to join the two of you while latching his watch around his wrist. It’s silver – not too over the top, but good quality, too.

Your cheeks ache with the smile stretching your face, following as Soap swings his elbow around yours, and Gaz follows behind with a hand on your lower back.

“What kinda intel?” You ask around a giggle, and you realise your mistake as the mood sours almost immediately.

Soap nervously darts his eyes to the surrounding hallway, as if the metal will provide him answers. They don’t.

“Soap?” Gaz, too, asks, hand moving to between your shoulder blades in a comforting gesture.

His blue eyes meet yours. Guilty, almost, pitiful. As if he knows the next statement will ruin your fantastic mood, the jovial air between the three of you.

When he says it, he does so with a firm expression.

“We got intel on Shadow Company – and where to find the deal Graves made with Shepherd.”

taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias @insatiablekittie @1wh4re1nova @kaoyamamegami @supernaturalstilinski @inthemiddle0feverywhere @msecho19 @nogood-boyo @alfa-jor @lalashhyl @letmeapologise @honeybeeznutz @1mawh0re @oreo-cream @someonepleasedateme @letmeapologise @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @inarabee @simp-sentral @littlecellist @clear-your-mind-and-dream @browtfyoudoing @oreo-cream @fanngirl19

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koofete · 10 months

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cute when you're mad | jeon jungkook.

pair: jealousbf!jungkook × f!reader

warnings: drabble short n simple, smut, mentions of sex and fingering in public, dirty talk, reader gets slapped, voyeur (?)

☆ note: my second drabble! again, english is not my first language in case of writing mistakes. pics edited by me. :)

jungkook is pissed.

after a very long time, he finally asks his sweet girl to a date. he chose his best clothes, the perfume you always say that smells good while sniffing his neck aggressively, bought you flowers..

he did everything!

and now there's a random man flirting with you while singing some romantic shit in the middle of the restaurant, on top of a small stage.

jeon didn't like the way he was staring at you, smiling, eating his girl only with eyes. liking even less of how you were giving all of your attention to that bastard.

things get worse when that guy picked up the microphone, saying loud and clear:

"this song i'll sing right now, i'd like to dedicate to that beautiful girl right there!" and pointed at you.

then the instrumental of 'careless whisper' started.

hah.

jungkook let the tongue touch the inside skin of his cheek, arms crossed right in front of chest while watching you getting all flustered, smiling shyly.

how adorable.

he's definitely doing something about that.

"babe?" you called confused about the feeling of your chair being pulled, and suddenly you're sitting by him.

"stay quiet."

jungkook's hands, decorated with rings, went up under your delicate dress, squeezing your thigh right before touching that place, making small shapes there.

"people will see!"

"so let them see."

when he knew your pussy was wet enough, two of the longest fingers was already inside, getting out and in quickly.

"koo.." you let a moan scape, covering your mouth with one hand after that.

looking at jeon with certain difficulty, he watched with a smirk that guy singing, his eyes open wide. probably noticed what was happening between you two.

and now, all makes sense.

your boyfriend was jealous.

that makes you want to tease him, but let him show you are his for everyone at the same time.

"you look so cute when you're mad, know that?"

"yeah, let's see if i'll still cute when i fuck you in that bathroom until you scream, perrita."

and jungkook really did that.

he fucked you silly in there, his fat dick eating you from behind, forcing your head back only for you to see your own face, that was a completely mess, full of sweat and tears. your butt? all red from his strong slaps.

jeon growled in your ear things like:

"you're all mine."

"that pretty hole of yours is mine to eat. only mine."

"see that messy face? mine."

"am i cute now, love?"

and he was happy now with the thought of everyone, especially that motherfucker, hearing your moans, hearing you scream his name; nobody else's.

maybe this plot is too cliche..?

#jungkook × reader #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #bts smut #bts fic #jungkook fic

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randombush3 · 25 days

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too sweet

alexia putellas x reader

it's based on the hozier song and i just got bored during my break

icl this might not make sense x

[...]

You aren’t sure how you ended up here.

There was a path, there was a brick lane painted yellow and filled with singing and dancing, and, what? Did you spiral off it? Were you the hurricane, were you the destroyer?

Maybe you are The Destroyed.

It’s too late to think about it.

Not because you are past repair, but because it really is late – later than usual.

The door has been locked twice, meaning Alexia has given in and gone to bed. “Fuck,” you swear as your keys clatter to the floor, typical for you to be the one to break the peaceful silence. A rustle comes from the bedroom; a sigh, a muffled sob. “Ale?”

And it’s instinctive, the way you run to her. Once upon a time, that was all you ever did, back when you played, back when the path was good and smooth and clear.

Alexia doesn’t want to see you. She hates the smell of whiskey, she hates the gruffness of your voice. There comes a point where a person can no longer bear it. No matter how much love she wraps around you, weaving the thinning strings together to form a rope and begging you to let her pull you up from this, there comes a point where Alexia, perhaps blinded too much by her love, is destroying herself just so that you don’t go down alone.

She’s tired.

When you arrive at the bedroom door, she has turned over, the duvet slightly too cold and the bed slightly too empty. “Ale, are you awake?” you ask, drunken foolishness clouding your sense as the lump under the covers does not respond, does not feel she can. “Baby?”

The bed doesn’t look inviting, and you feel unwelcome.

You roll your shoulders back.

“Alexia, don’t pretend.”

The silence is haunting and you try to escape it as soon as possible, letting out a viscous laugh, directing it towards her back. The noise slashes welts in her skin, your tongue a whip, you her mistress and she, your slave. Alexia closes her eyes.

An alarm rings through the apartment. The sun is not quite up, so it would be dark if you hadn’t been staring at the soft glow of the lamp beside the TV for the past hour.

The screen isn’t on.

You don’t quite feel escaping this life just yet.

“Bon dia.” Soft feet pad into the kitchen, face washed, training kit pulled on. Her nose wrinkles as the bitterness of coffee hurtles towards her, and she doesn’t make an effort to conceal her frown at the empty bottle of whiskey on the floor beside you. “Are you planning to get some rest?”

“Are you making coffee?”

“I read a study that says it negatively affects performance.”

“Are you making me a coffee?” you amend with a smirk, sitting up and staring her down. Through the redness of your eyes shines what first attracted her to you, the devilish spark, the clearly set out intention of doing something stupid.

She watches you haul yourself up, staggering towards her. Your hands are cold and clammy, but their grip on her waist feels just as good as it always does. She leans back into you.

“The sun’s not up yet but Alexia Putellas is ready to train,” you murmur into her ear, kissing the skin of her neck as though to soothe where the dig must have sliced her. “No journalist tracks your morning routine, baby. You could’ve stayed in bed a bit longer, let yourself wake up later. Don’t you ever wanna?”

Her body relaxes, choosing to hear your voice but not what you are saying. She lets herself fall into the pit you rot in; your most frequent visitor. “I am drunk on life,” she replies with a forgiving smile.

You step back, Alexia stumbling with you, having been leaning on your body.

“I’m not drunk.” It is far from a new lie. “Have fun at training,” you grit out. She sees the back of you as you lurch towards the bedroom door. Her tears try to fall, but she wipes her face with her knuckles and collects herself before she heads out into the real world. Her home feels like a dungeon, but one that is not meant for her.

The girls undergo the usual ritual of asking after you. Your retirement was forced, but they all saw it coming.

You were not sculpted from the same heroic marble, withstanding heat and terror. Nothing about you fit into training regimes and early mornings, sweetened energy drinks on promotion, discipline and determination. You got by on talent, rough and raw, and listening to your beloved prison warden on occasion.

If Alexia is the Greek hero, you were, perhaps, the weapon she used. Deadly, yes. Sought-after. But, if dropped, clattering towards the ground lifelessly.

She crouches down to pick you up, but your metal burns so hot that she is not sure she can touch you.

When Alexia comes home, you are asleep. She opens the windows, self-consciously airing out the stench of alcohol before a few of her teammates come over for dinner, and she cleans the stickiness from the worktops. She lights a candle. She wishes it were an altar, a conduit to her saviour, and she prays, for a moment, that this will end soon.

When she opens her eyes, she realises the only saviour she has been thinking of has been you.

She crawls into the bed beside you.

You stir at the feeling of fingers combing through your hair.

Alexia is as bright as the morning sun, blazing above Barcelona. She is untouchable.

The distance that has grown between you has grown because she is the zenith and you are the nadir. It is just too far to overcome.

You are real. You suffer, you cry, you poison yourself and enjoy it. You like how you live, you like how free you are.

Alexia’s gentle rousing – but rousing, nonetheless – sends you tumbling past your limit.

This is not how she wants you to be, but you cannot be something you are not.

“You’re too sweet for me.”

She hears the rejection, but she shakes her head.

“No, no,” she whispers desperately, pleading for it to not mean what it does, begging you to swallow it back inside. “No, I’m not. Remember?”

She means her ACL, she means the venomous arguments and the early days where you’d watch her carefully as she inhaled your second-hand smoke. She means now, where she lets you live the way you do because she understands how life works and she gets it, she does, and she really only just wants you to be happy.

You blink slowly. “Ale.”

“No, I’m… I’m just still playing! I have to take my career seriously, but, but, the off-season! You know how I am in the off-season?”

“Baby, you don’t give yourself an off-season.”

“I can!” she vows. “I can, and we’ll go on holiday with the girls, and we’ll wake up dark as lakes and you can make me smell like a fucking bonfire, if you’d like.”

“Ale…”

“Please,” she asks.

You wish you could go along with the farce. In all honesty, you’re a bit surprised that is has lasted up to now.

You cannot do this anymore. Maybe one day, when she is done playing and training and conforming to the intense regimes the club upholds them to, you will come back to her. Maybe one day, she will have sat in the barrel long enough to have soured, bitter, now, and much more palatable.

But you are certain about the present, about the woman lying beside you with tears running down her cheeks. You decide that if you were to taste the liquid, what is supposed to be salty would be sweet, and, with that, you have convinced yourself.

“Alexia, baby, you’re too sweet for me.”

#woso x reader #woso #randombush3 #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas

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zeroeightzeroone · 4 months

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bad days - kim seungmin

genre: comfort

pairings: seungmin x gender neutral reader

wc ~1k | moodboard

notes: if this looks familiar, it was originally posted to my secondary blog @zerothreetwentyfive so i'm republishing everything here on my main blog.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

"hey dummy, i'm home."

he says as he's shrugging off his black windbreaker, revealing a white t-shirt underneath and hanging it on the back of the door. seungmin turns around, noticing the way the lamp is clicked on at the same time the ceiling lights are opened as well, and then his eyes move over to you lying in bed. even with a blanket draped over you, he can see that you're curled up into a ball, the bottom half of your face hidden behind the pillow you're clutching to your chest. the brunette's heart drops when his eyes meet yours, glossy and avoiding his own.

"oh bubs…" he rushes over, kneeling to be eye level with you, "what's wrong?"

his hand moves to touch you, caressing your hair gently as you sniffle, no words coming from your mouth. seungmin scans over the top half of your face that isn't covered by the pillow, looking at your hooded eyes, eyelashes clumped together from the tears and your flushed, damp cheeks.

a pout adorns seungmin's lips at the sight of you, "what's got my baby so down? hmm?"

your eyes move to look into his, the tears caught in your eyelashes sparkling from the lamp.

"is it another one of those days?" seungmin asks softly, his hand still stroking your hair.

this time you nod your head slowly. at that his lips purse in a sympathetic smile; knowing how down you'd get on those bad days. the change in your eyes apparent on a good day versus bad, the bliss one day and misery in the next.

"ahh. how about this bubs? i'll take a quick shower, rinse off all the practice sweat and i'll climb in right next to you."

you nod.

seungmin leans forward and presses a tender kiss to your forehead. naturally your eyes close and he pulls away with a smile seeing your eyes flutter open.

you watch as seungmin pushes himself up, off his knees to get ready for his shower: snatching some clothes to change into, and grabbing the towel hanging on the back of the door before he scampers out of the room and into the bathroom. you hear the water running through the faucet, a delay, then the sound of the water rushing from the shower head along with seungmin singing; during longer showers he would sing songs from beginning to end, but during quick ones he would sing random lyrics and tunes. the sound of seungmin's singing has you sighing deeply, the tone of his voice washing a wave of comfort over your body, allowing it to release some of the tension.

even when the water stops running, he continues to hum different tunes as he quickly dries himself off and dresses himself. again, you hear the sound of seungmin's feet against the floor as he rushes back into the bedroom, he's still wearing a white t-shirt but this one has a design printed on the front whilst he wears a pair of plaid pajama pants. the boy hangs his damp towel on the door before shutting off the ceiling lights and climbing under the covers with you.

the fragrant smell of seungmin's body wash and laundry detergent engulfing your senses as he pulls your body away from the edge and into his chest, his breath fanning over the back of your neck. the heat radiating off his body and onto yours has you relaxing in his arms, your back pressed up against his front as he places his right hand over one of yours clutching the pillow.

"i'm here bubs," he says softly from behind you, "whatever you need, i'm right here."

the weight on your chest, lifts at his words.

after being together for over a year, through trial and error, he learned how could be of comfort to you on your bad days. the first couple of times, seungmin tried to talk to you about it, trying to find solutions to make you feel better. while his intentions were good, it only added to the stress and negativity looming inside your head. a lot of the time, you couldn't pinpoint the cause of these feelings. the emotional burden just weighing you down with no clear explanation or reasoning. of course, there were times when the reason for your feelings were apparent but talking about your emotions had never come easy to you.

eventually he learned that the solution wasn't always something that came with long discussions, it came with him just being there. seungmin's presence brought you a sense of comfort. a feeling of relief washing over you whenever he was near, knowing that you didn't need to go through these bad days alone.

seungmin would always be there: verbally or physically, whatever you needed.

seungmin's right arm draped around your body lifts up the slightest bit when he feels you moving. you're abandoning the pillow and turning to face him, his left arm moving under your head as your left arm is now draped around his body, hands fiddling at the fabric of his shirt. seungmin takes this opportunity to cradle your head into his chest using the arm under your head to push you a bit closer, his left hand now gently grazing over your scalp in a small massaging manner. the sound of seungmin's steady heartbeat has you further nuzzling into him.

"thank you," your words are barely even a whisper but seungmin can hear you loud and clear.

he hums, "anytime bubs."

the feeling of seungmin's body pressed up against yours, the steady rhythm of his pulse has your eyes growing heavy, the tranquil atmosphere lulling you to sleep.

seungmin notices how your body fully relaxes in his arms, your fingers stopping their movement around his shirt and how your breathing has slowed down. craning his head the slightest bit, he takes a peek at your face; your eyes closed, lips slightly parted as soft breaths pass through, your cheeks still the slightest bit rosy. seungmin's lips turn up into a cheeky grin, the sight of you peacefully dozed off in his arms never failing to make his heart flip.

"goodnight bubs, sweet dreams."

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vampcubus · 1 year

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𝐊𝐍𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐇𝐂𝐒

a/n: overanalyzing kny characters’ love languages, both expressing their love and how they prefer to be loved in return.

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 : tanjiro, inosuke, kyojuro, and tengen.

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : sfw, keep in mind these are all my opinion.

𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐎

𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄 & 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

— Tanjiro screams acts of service, and you can see it in the way he cares for everyone. Nezuko especially. So it should come as no surprise that his natural way of expressing his love for you is to do things for you. It ranges from small things, like instinctively covering table/furniture edges when you bend down to pick something up so you don’t hurt yourself on them, to quite literally using his body to shield your own from harm in battle.

— Winding down for bed? Let him help you with your skincare routine, applying moisturizing oils to your face with gentle swipes of his fingers over your cheeks. Do you wear your hair in a specific style? Please teach him how so he can do it for you! If he finds you cooking or cleaning up around the house, he always asks if there is anything he could help you with, and hesitates when you insist that there wasn’t.

“Okay, darling if you say so… but come find me if you change your mind?” he sighs, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek before scurrying off to let you carry on with what you were doing.

— Tanjiro does all sorts of things with you in mind without even thinking about it. Like leaving notes with sweet things and reminders around the house when he’s away for when you wake up. Or offering to cook when you’re too exhausted to, being mindful of the things you prefer to eat, so you enjoy the things he makes ❤︎

— Another crucial piece of his love language is words of affirmation. Tanjiro is never too shy to give praise, especially to his partner, whom he holds in the highest esteem. If you are ever feeling doubtful of your capabilities, he will be sure to put those insecurities to rest with endless reassurance and kind words.

— If you are a slayer like him, he’ll be all but singing your praises after every successful dispatch, complimenting your form, courage, and gracefulness with shining eyes. He can always find a compliment for you without having to think very long or hard about it.

— And though it has little to do with why he’s in love with you, he can’t help but tell you just how beautiful he finds you to be. You truly take his breath away, even when you aren’t dressed up in the slightest. He thinks there’s beauty in your comfortability around him. So even when you just rolled out of bed with your hair a mess and makeup from the previous day smeared across your face, he thinks you’re the loveliest creature to grace the earth.

— Tanjiro always notices when you change things about your appearance, and is sure to comment on every change with his approval.

— New haircut? He’s asking to feel it and telling you how nice it looks on you. Wearing a new outfit? He'll note that it suits you perfectly and hopes you’ll wear it more often. This is especially true when it comes to your scent. Seeing as his sense of smell is so potent, he easily becomes attached to your unique scent. He doesn’t care much for strong perfumes, but if you use a different soap or conditioner, he will notice.

“You smell so good today, my love,” he sighs into the crook of your neck and shoulder as he embraces you from behind, reddish-black hairs tickling you.

𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

— It has to be physical touch. Although he is open to all sorts of ways his partner would express their love for him, their physical affection is by far his favorite way to receive it. He adores your every gentle touch and loving gesture, leaning into every caress, sighing into every kiss, and his eyes fluttering shut at every embrace.

— Your touch grounds and comforts him, bringing him back down to earth when his responsibilities and anxieties pull him into his head. You can tell when those worries are festering, weighing heavily on the man that grew up much too quickly and saw so many horrors so young. Survivor's guilt is brutal, and he rarely has the time to spare to confront how that trauma has affected him psychologically. But that’s where you come in, salving and soothing.

— Your arms have become his sanctuary, holding him upright when he doesn’t have the strength to stand any longer. Your heartbeat against his ear calms him down like nothing else, so he melts when you guide his head to rest atop your heart, softly petting his wine-colored hair and reminding him that you were real- that you weren’t going anywhere.

— Tanjiro adores your hands. He loves the way they feel in his own, tugging him along when you’re out and about together so you don’t lose track of one another. He loves how easily he folds when you rub out all the aches and pains in his body after a long assignment, taking such good care of him.

— He loves the simple touches you think nothing about, like grabbing his waist as you brush past him, leaving him a flustered mess. Or the shapes you trace on his thigh while you’re seated side by side. You may do it mindlessly, but he’s hyper-aware of where your bodies meet, easily distracted by the slightest touches.

— Suffice it to say, he really likes it when you touch him.

𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐀

𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 & 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆

— A toughie, but I’d say he primarily expresses his affection for you through physical touch!

— Inosuke has never been a prude about getting up close and personal, the man does fight people for fun after all. Which ties in with one of his favorite ways to show affection: roughhousing! He gets immense enjoyment out of play fighting with you, whether that be out of boredom or he just wants an excuse to touch you without coming off soft.

— Always touching you mindlessly, like resting an elbow on your head/shoulder, tugging you along by the arm toward fun activities, or leaning over you to pick up something. Doesn’t even think about it when he crawls into your lap or drags you into his own, and just scratches at his head when others act scandalized by his public displays of affection.

— Isn’t above making out with you in front of others so you might have to reign him in, even if he doesn’t entirely understand what the big whoop is about sharing spit with you with an audience. In his mind, that just means others will know you’re his “mate” and to not bother competing, not that anyone could compete with “Mountain God, Inosuke!”

— He definitely does the loving “head bonk” thing that cats do. Oftentimes he doesn’t even bother taking his mask off to do that though, and the fur of his mask is a little scratchy :(((

— Inosuke very much enjoys sparring with you, no matter the gap of power between you. Doesn’t matter if he knows he’ll win or get his ass handed to him, he wants to share his passion with you. And if you’re as enthusiastic about fighting as he is? All the more reason to spend so much time testing one another’s limits and making one another stronger opponents in the process.

— Another part of Inosuke’s love language is gift-giving! oddly enough. He’s very much the “finders keepers” and “if you have it, i want it,” type, but that seems to not apply to you.

— Expect to receive all sorts of odd trinkets, rocks, and shiny things he either finds, steals, or acquires on his assignments. While these things might not seem particularly valuable or significant, they meant something to him. Enough to want to share it with you in hopes it would make you happy too.

— The best part is the way he puffs up with pride after you express your approval of his offering, boasting about how “of course you like it! I, the great Inosuke, went through great trouble to get it for you!” though inside, he’s a little bit nervous when presenting his gifts to you, on the slight chance that you don’t appreciate them.

— The more you praise him for his gifts the more frequent they become, though you might be perplexed by the things that turn up at your doorstep. They’re mostly harmless, aside from the occasional dead animal.

𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 & 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

— His first choice when it comes to receiving your love would be words of affirmation. After all, who wouldn’t like a bit of praise every now and then? But in Inosuke’s case, he thrives off of being reminded of just how amazing you find him to be.

— It’s not hard to find things about him to compliment, he’s a truly incredible slayer, and a fiercely loyal partner.

— Keep the flattering remarks coming! He’s eating them all up! And getting more and more attached to you the more you tell him the things he’s good at.

— He doesn’t much understand compliments on his appearance, nor does he value them as much as your flattery of his physical prowess, but they do have an effect on him.

— As for the quality time part, making an effort to spend time with him is a surefire way to get his heart pumping (though he might not realize that he’s in love with you, just that he likes being around you.)

— Inosuke’s clingy in every sense of the word, trailing close behind wherever you wander off to. He wants to go everywhere with you, so making plans with him in mind or just getting up and tugging him along with you is totally acceptable.

— Inosuke finally understands what Tanjiro and Zenitsu meant when they said that food tastes better when you eat with others. Because his meals just don’t satisfy him like they do when he shares them with you. Sometimes he’ll seek you out just to stuff his face beside you, grinning wolfishly when you scold him for eating too quickly, and making a face when you wipe food off his face (he secretly likes it)

— He wants to be a part of your routine, even if it consists of him just sitting there while you do your hair (do not trust him with it, he will make you look so busted istg 😭) or trying to sneak bites while you cook, only to get his hand smacked.

— Inosuke craves your company, even if you aren’t necessarily interacting. He just wants to have you there.

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔

𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

— Words of affirmation hands down. Kyojuro is a man of praise and isn’t too shy to lay it on thick with his lovely partner. He honestly can’t shut up about how beautiful, amazing, and talented he finds you to be.

— The other Hashira – and honestly anyone that’ll listen – are constantly updated on the daily Y/n scoop! He just has so much adoration for you welling up inside that it comes spilling out of his smiling lips at every opportunity.

— His compliments aren’t empty either. He’s an honest man, and only says what he believes to be true. And if you expect his flattery to stop at looks, you’d be sorely mistaken. He praises every little thing you do: swordplay, hobbies, crafts, simply existing.

— And if you were ever to make something special just for him? He’s swooning so hard, accepting your gift graciously and telling you just how much he loves it and what a good job you did crafting it! Doesn’t matter how much of an amateur you are, he is waxing poetic about your stick figure like it's the most beautiful artwork he’s ever laid eyes on and keeping it forever.

“My love, this is magnificent! I’ll cherish it and keep it close to me so that I might be reminded of you every time I see it!” Kyojuro announces with a bright smile so wide his cheeks start to hurt. You even swear you see his eyes get a little glossy at the gesture.

— Even when you aren’t doing anything particularly significant, he’s always expressing his undying love for you.

“I adore you. You know that, right?” “You make me so happy, darling flame.” “You’re so easy to talk to.”

(LIKE CHILL OUT WITH THAT BEFORE I 🫠)

— Definitely isn’t afraid to say he loves you outright. He’d scream it to the world unashamed if you asked ❤︎

𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

— Physical touch physical touch physical touch!!! Though I doubt he realizes it, Kyojuro is devastatingly touch-starved. He lost his mother young, and his father is hardly the type to spare a caring touch for his children. That has an enormous effect on someone, even Kyojuro. So when he first gets a taste of your affections, he’s hooked.

— Wavers and melts into every gentle touch you offer him, looking enraptured at the feeling of your soft hands holding his face so sweetly, so delicately. Pay close enough attention and you might see him get a little teary-eyed, because how did he survive so long without this? He feels brittle beneath your fingertips, threatening to shatter with every featherlight kiss and caress.

— On one of your first dates, you asked if you could feed him and his heart nearly lept out of his chest. He of course indulged you, though he wasn’t prepared for you to cup his face and hold a piece of octopus with your chopsticks to his lips. INSTANT HEART EYES, and a considerable blush on his cheeks as he accepted the bite of food gratefully. Kyojuro’s loud exclamation of “TASTY!” was particularly spirited afterward.

— Kyojuro oddly feels obligated to thank you after you give him affection those first few times.

— Kyojuro’s definitely a hugger, so cling onto him all you like, and he’ll hold onto you just as tightly.

— Cuddles? Yes please! This man is practically glued to you, and refuses to be moved, particularly in the morning.

— Kyojuro isn’t a morning person, and practically needs to be dragged by the ankles out of bed. And that’s if you can pry his arms off of you to begin with. His relationship with waking up improves if you’re soft about it, coaxing him out of bed with plenty of kisses over his face until he can’t pretend to sleep any longer.

— Kyojuro wants to hold hands whenever you’re out and about together, whether you’re perusing food stalls, shopping at the market, or finding yourselves in the crowd of a bustling city.

— Play with his flame-colored hair and watch him melt into a puddle. He’s so fond of it that he’ll ask you to brush through it and tie his hair up in his signature half-ponytail most days.

— He finds your fascination with his hands endearing, and can’t stop smiling to himself when you play with them idly.

𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐙𝐔𝐈

𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 & 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄

— Tengen is definitely a gift-giver! He always returns from his assignments with something shiny or expensive to drop into your lap and watch you gush over it.

— He’s always thinking of you and has a habit of buying things that even remotely remind him of you. Though sometimes it seems like he purchases things just cus he thinks they’re flashy, and is a bit perplexed when they don’t seem to have the same effect on you. If you’re someone who prefers more humble gifts, or handmade items, he will adapt. A bit begrudgingly, because he wants to give you nice things, glittery things. Because he thinks you deserve them.

— His whole demeanor changes the moment he sees the way your face lights up when he gifts you something more practical. Pays closer attention to things you actually use when considering future gifts.

— Often gifts you things in hopes that you’ll wear them on your person. Whether it be jewelry he thinks matches your eyes, a bright kimono in a color he just knows would compliment your skin tone, or more… skimpy garments. For his eyes only, of course.

— he also strikes me as an acts of service guy? Tengen will do just about anything to protect you, all too ready to put your life before his own. And though he won’t say it outright, he likes doing things for you. It hardly matters if you’re capable of doing tasks on your own, he wants to do them for you.

— And if you’re not the type to ask for help? He’ll just have to make your life a little harder. Puts your things on high shelves so you have to come looking for him to get them down for you, purchases extra heavy furniture so you have to ask so sweetly if he could move it, and doesn’t let you pay for a damn thing!

— It might be irritating, but he just wants you to need him, even in small ways. That’s what you get for getting involved with a man with an inflated ego that values you above all else.

𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

— Quite unsurprisingly words of affirmation. Tell him all the things you like about him, he’s got his chin on his hand and kicking his feet giddily. Has the nerve to ask, “and what else, darling?” As if you won’t go off about how devastatingly attractive he is 🗣

— Pile on the praise, he’s lapping it all up. You’ll have him monologuing at this rate, hardly able to get a word in as he drones on about himself. Honestly, you shouldn’t feed into his ego so much, his head’s already as big as his waist 😒

“You’re so pretty, Lord Tengen,” you’d purr, and he’s fluffing up like a bird, practically oozing with pride at your praise.

“How kind of you to notice!” Tengen laughs, because of course he knows it, but can’t help but get cocky when his lover is forthright with their admiration for him.

— Though if you keep flattering him like that you might get him a little too excited, and he’s even more insufferable when his ego isn’t the only thing swelling.

— Praise beyond his appearance will surprise him, and it’s your secret weapon. Tell him that you feel safe with him, and that he does such a good job of protecting you. Gush about how helpful he is, or how well he treats you, and watch him melt, a bit unsure of what to say for once.

#‧₊🦇˚⊹ ashi writes #tanjiro kamado x reader #tanjirou kamado x reader #tanjiro x reader #tanjirou x reader #inosuke hashibira x reader #inosuke x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #rengoku x reader #tengen uzui x reader #uzui tengen x reader #tengen x reader #kyojuro x reader #kny headcanons #kny x reader #demon slayer headcanons #demon slayer x reader

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