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#he thinks no one wants to hold his wrists and kiss his palms and smile at him !!

suguwu · 2 days

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"need a light?"

you glance up from your sputtering lighter, the last hint of the flame dying out. aventurine gives you a smug little grin. you sigh, but lean forward when he produces his own lighter—gold-plated, embossed with a spade—and flicks it to life.

a breeze stirs, whipping through the alleyway. he cups his hand around the flame to keep it from guttering out. his fingers are long and bird-boned, deceptively delicate.

you breathe in until the tip of your cigarette burns, a sunset catching fire at the edge of the horizon. you exhale, the smoke wisping out from your mouth.

"how'd you find me?" you ask.

his smile gleams; you think of the moon hanging high in the sky, a lonely mirror.

"c'mon," he says. "you gotta give me a little more credit."

you hum. "i give you plenty of credit."

"not enough, apparently."

"apparently. what do you want?"

"maybe i just want the pleasure of your company."

you pin him with a deadpan stare; he laughs, the sound bright like champagne, a crisp pop of sound. it shows his teeth.

"spit it out, aventurine," you say.

"aren't you going to offer me a cigarette?"

you roll your eyes, but you hold out your case. he slips one free and twirls it deftly. he tucks it between the sly curve of his lips, but he doesn't go for his lighter. there's a challenge in his eyes.

you exhale a sharp stream of smoke. then you slink forward into his space, until the tip of your cigarette presses against his, the cherry of it burning bright. he leans in closer. despite the smoke, you can still catch a hint of his cologne, citrusy with a marine kiss of ambergris.

this close, you could count his sun-gold eyelashes. he gazes at you from beneath them. the heat of his breath curls between the two of you. there's a promise hanging in the air.

his cigarette catches; he pulls away. the chilly air rushes in to fill the space between you, leaving you cold.

he exhales, a dragon's breath of smoke. "that's better," he says. "thanks."

"just tell me why you're here."

"c'mon, don't be cold. we're friends!"

"we're something," you drawl.

he grins; a shiver ripples down your spine. "we're something," he agrees.

you take another drag. "don't you have important things to be doing? saps to swindle? you know i'm not one of them."

aventurine gazes at you for a moment, his bi-colored eyes sharp. in the dim, they almost seem to glow. he blows out a stream of smoke.

"no," he says. "you're not."

something stirs in your chest. there's warmth to it, the soft heat of hearthstones long after the fire has gone out. you grimace.

"aventurine."

he hums.

you sigh, dropping your cigarette butt and grinding it out beneath your heel. "go home," you say. "there's nothing here for the ipc."

"we both know that's not true."

you hiss out an annoyed breath. "you don't know when to quit, do you?"

"it's all or nothing," he says, a coy grin blooming on his lips. "i thought you knew that by now."

you push off the wall you've been leaning against. "i do. that's why i don't bet with you."

he laughs. you ignore him and head for the door that leads out to the alley. he catches you by the wrist. before you can pull free, he slips his lighter into your palm. he curls your fingers closed over it, his touch lingering.

"what—"

"since yours isn't working," he says, letting go. the heat of him lingers on your skin. you try to press it back into his hand; he pulls away before you can. "ah ah, no take backs."

you sigh, tucking it away in a pocket. "fine. thanks."

he'll come back for it later. you both know it.

"bye," you say, slipping by him. you open the door; the sound of the casino spills out.

"catch you later," he says. once, you'd have thought it was flippant. but now—

it sounds a lot like a promise.

#bee chats

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cursingtoji · 7 months

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listening to ghost and soap infamous “are you ugly?” conversation and not being able to stop thinking about what ghost meant by “quite the opposite”

you’re used to having him wearing his mask even whenever you two escape to blow off some steam, but since that day you’ve been building up some courage to ask the same thing soap tried to.

“take it off” you murmur with your lips inches away from his mask while setting a pace riding him.

Ghost, who was spread out on the couch raised his head, “y’r gettin’ spoiled, brat. last week was a kiss now you want my whole face?” he gives your ass a mean slap.

“’s not fair” you pout, whilst you are completely naked every time, simon only removes his shirt when you beg, maybe lowers his pants down to his ankles instead of just enough to let out his cock, but that’s it.

“Aight, want me to lose the mask?” he takes your black shirt, folding it sloppily until it’s narrow then he puts around your eyes tying on the back of your head.

“simon! no!” you raise your hands to undo it, he’s faster though, taking both your wrists and holding in the air. you hear some fumbling and suddenly your palms are being tickled by a stubble, you gasp realizing under your hands is ghost’s uncovered face.

“keep ridin’” he demands, adjusting his body to lay lower and thrusting you from bellow as a reminder he’s still inside.

you bite your lips, needing to put a hand on his chest as support, your other hand explores his face trying to paint a mental image of him.

his jawline is sharp, a few uneven parts along his skin, probably scars, there’s more hair on his chin than the rest of his jaw and to imagine simon with a blond goatee make you clench.

“shit” he curses tightening the grip on your hips, “what’re you so excited ‘bout, private? huh?” he pinches your nipple. you run your fingertips on his bottom lip, it’s thin and he could use some lip balm, but the excitement about touching him in such a intimate way gives you hope to one day convince him to let you apply lip balm on his lips, “behave” he growls.

“‘m behaving, sir” you smile sheepishly forgetting he can actually see your face. ghost takes your hand, making you close it and leaving just your index up. under the improvised blindfold you frown, next his lips are wrapping around your finger and his tongue is under your digit.

your clit throbs, not expecting this from your lieutenant.

“fuck, Lt.” you arch your back, approaching your orgasm.

“faster” both his hands are gripping your ass, he groans and you feel the vibration on your finger. you obey as one does, slapping your ass on his mighty thighs, as he sucks your finger, even letting some saliva run down your palm.

“si-mon ‘m close” you lose yourself on the sensation, seeing nothing makes you more aware of the stretch his cock gives you, not to mention the sounds your lieutenant is trying to hold. with one last suck he removes your finger, moving it to your own clit, where he presses it on your bud.

“cum then” you’re so close, but that’s one thing you still want.

“can i kiss you?” you edge yourself waiting for his answer, he sighs and you take it as a negative response, but his other hand leaves your ass as he guides your face to his where his lips awaited yours, he immediately pushes his tongue in, that’s merely your second kiss and you’re already coming.

“louder, i think the terrorists haven’t heard ya” he teases when you moan a high pitched note.

“fuck you, sir” you’re still riding him intensely, knowing he’s close too. he bites your lip, forcing your hips up and down faster and groaning as he fills your insides.

by the time you remove the blindfold, his mask is back on and you sigh in defeat, moving away from his lap and getting one last spank.

“goatee” you whisper in soap’s ear as he is about to eat his morning scrambled eggs.

“wut?” he turns to you.

“he has a goatee” you wink and leave to get your own breakfast. poor johnny is still processing what was said when ghost enters the room, later than usual.

soap drops his fork.

#cod fanfic #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #cod x you #cod x reader #cod smut #simon riley smut

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sinning-23 · 5 months

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Calling Them By Their Full Name

OPLA Headcannons! I thought htis was a funny little thing lol. Anyway enjoy

Warnings: slight mentions of nsfw topics but nothing too serious

Sorry for any spelling errors!

Luffy

-ohhhhh that did not sound like your usual happy, loving voice.

-he knows he fucked up and now he’s hiding from your wrath.

-“MONKEY D. LUFFY, GET YOUR ASS IN THIS KITCHEN. NOW.”

-you could hear a pen drop from how quiet the ship got

-ok so maybe he ate that super expensive, super special dessert you had been saving for a while now. And like, it was going to go bad! All he wanted was a little taste! Than a taste turned into accidentally eating the whole thing.

-He was gonna tell you, honest! But it had proven obvious you found out before he could. He seen you round the corner with RAGe on your face and tears in your eyes.

-"TRAITOR!" You yell, throwing a tired punch to his chest.

-“I’m sorry mami, I’ll find you another one. Promise.” He hums, peppering your face with kisses, squeezing your face between his palms when he did.

-There’s no way you could stay mad at him for long

Zoro

-whoa whoa whoa why are you so ANNNGRY

-hated when you call him by his full name like that, makes him feel like a child being reprimanded

-“RORONOA GODDAMN ZORO.” You boom, Nami’s jaw dropping at the sound. Even she could tell you were pissed

-he’s the sassiest mf alive so he’ll probably just be like, “who the hell are talking to woman?!”

-“You’re a real piece of work you know that??” You’re still yelling and he wastes no time rolling his eyes at you and grabbing you by your waist, the action shutting you up.

“Wanna stop yelling and be a big girl and tell me what’s wrong?” He teases, that stupid smirk you love falling over his features at your speechlessness.

-It’s not often you say his full make but when you do he makes sure you’ll never forget it that same night.

-“Say my name baby, real loud.” He groans, a hand around your throat to steady spent body as he slams back into you

Sanji

-I know thats not a cigarette i smell Vinsmoke Sanji."

-awe hell. Yout tone is deadly. he tried he damndest to stomp it out before you rounded the corner but nope.

-You never use his full name like that. Never.

-did he just get chills?

-"Of course not my love!" He lies throigh his teeth but before he can say anything ese you re lips are on his, you fist gripping the fabric of his shirt.

-He knew he was caught, the taste of tobacco mixing with your usual mint. You pull away, smoothing his shirt out with a warning smile.

-"Don’t lie to me again, I’ll always know when you do, Black Leg." You explain , taking the small cardboard box from his pocket and walking off.

-Even though it was ment as a threat, he couldn't help but feel hotter than ususal. God he loved it when you talked all serious to him.

Bonus: Mihawk

-You know better than to use his full name. Orr to even call him anything besides the usual endearing pet name.

-So when he hears his name called with nothing short of rage, hes trying to figure out who you think you’re talking to.

-"Dracule. Mihawk." You spit, holding the empty bottle in your hand

-Ok so your rage was warented cause he managed to drink the entire vintage bottle of wine you'd been saving...it wasn’t like it was on purpose!

-He doesn’t even bother to look up from his book, just barely giving you a slight glance when you were right in front of him, pointing to the bottle.

-"Id watch your tone darling." he warns, smirking at the way you purse your lips and turn away with a fierce attitude he'd be sure to deal with later.

-“Oh shove it up your ass Dracule.” You scoff, trying to quicken your pace but failing when he’s already behind you, his much larger hand holding your wrist as you yelp.

-His look says it all. You’re screwed.

-So now you’re sitting pretty, bent over and counting each time his hand meets the sore and slightly reddened flesh of your ass.

-“Now, what’s my name again darling?”

#x reader #i don't care he's hot #one piece #one piece live action #headcannons #hes so hot #sanji opla #opla zoro #luffy opla #opla mihawk #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #mihawk x reader #luffy x reader #opla x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader

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yanderenightmare · 6 months

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JJK x curse ! darling

TW: NSFW, yandere, kidnapping, captive darling, degredation

fem reader

Can’t stop thinking about all the little vulnerable curse ! darlings that exist and how easily they fall prey to the merciless Jujutsu Sorcerers that go hunting them down for pleasure.

Geto Suguru x The Curse of Virginity

Doe-eyed, chubby-cheeked and makeup-free. She's always chewing her lip nervously. Spawned from all the sweet, silly virgins out there who're afraid of having their virginity robbed.

Though always so fucking wet for it at the same time that it’s embarrassing.

Geto got lucky and swallowed her up before anyone else could get a taste. Keeping her in his bedroom. He kisses her cheeks while fucking her into a moaning, squealing little mess every night. Making sure all her sweet little virgin fantasies are met and satisfied.

Gojo Satoru x The Curse of Beauty

A defiant little brat who thinks her beauty will enslave any and all men who dare look at her. Cold and dismissive, she never lets anyone touch her – because, in her mind, she’s a goddess no one’s worthy of having or holding.

But Gojo scoops her up and keeps her locked up in his place like a pet cat. Smiling at her awfully condescendingly when she warns him not to lay his filthy hands on her.

She'll hiss at him, backing up with eyes going wide under the crushing realization that a pretty face stands little chance paralleled with a real force of strength. Understanding with a hitch in her throat how she better start using her looks to please rather than upset him.

Fushiguro Toji x The curse of Insecurity

The cutest little crybaby who thinks every aspect of her is unappealing and gross. She’s always trying to hide her tear-streaked face, making herself as small as she can by curling herself into a ball, hoping no one’s able to notice her.

Toji just grins his devil-grin with her doughy thighs spread around his hips – keeping her wrists pinned above her head so she can’t do anything but whimper out small denials when he gruffs out how fucking adorable she is, thinking she can keep herself away from him.

Nanami Kento x The curse of Shame

Born from the guilt of every shameful nympho who can’t help but feel so awfully filthy after indulging in their dark desires.

She's always naked and needy – quaking with heat and dewy from the fever of it – rubbing her thighs closed with such a sorry expression it would make any man rush to comfort her.

Nanami takes good care of her, though. The poor thing. She can’t go a single day without getting her wet little pussy pounded – always coming to him with her coy eyes and sultry whines, riding the thick muscles on his thigh with such a terribly needy pout on her lips. Begging him to make it okay, to sanction her so she needn’t feel so awfully sinful as she cums while still whimpering for his cock like a needy wonton little slut.

Zenin Naoya x The curse of misogyny

Born from all the chauvinistic self-indulgent thoughts men have of what a perfect woman should be – having resulted in the most plaint sweetest little thing – one who only feels comfortable when she's either welcoming her man home, cock-warming him during dinner or when he's rearranging her guts into the late night.

She's the happiest little bride with Naoya. Smiling nicely and humming while he lists all his troubles after coming home in a foul mood like always – she'll play with his hair until he leans into the touch with a moan, possessively tugging her closer – palming her soft skin with a pouty scowl on his face. She'll kiss his chin and tell him how grateful she is for everything he goes through, and it's exactly what he needs to hear – beginning to brush his lips over her skin, undressing her while she continues soothing him with her devotion – telling him she'd be lost without him, that he should take whatever he wants from her as a reward for working so hard, that he deserves it for being so good to her, that he's the strongest and smartest and greatest man in the whole world, and that she'll never ever want to be or do anything but serve him until the day she dies.

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gay-dorito-dust · 16 days

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Any characters of your choosing, but how would some of the hsr characters act with a partner who loves physical touch but is too shy to initiate?

Argenti:

More then willing to initiate the physical contact if you were too shy to do so, after all it was the least he could do for you, and Argenti would do a lot for you without having to be asked.

‘All you are to do is ask my beloved rose.’ He says as he helps by gently guiding you into hugging him, smiling when you press yourself up against him and pressing your face into his chest.

‘I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.’ Was your response and Argenti couldn’t help but chuckle as your thoughtfulness as he presses a kiss to your head.

‘No such thing.’ He says as he holds you against him as you both took this moment to indulge in the another. ‘I’d very much rather you express yourself however you see fit, as I’ll accept your love and affection in all it’s forms it may take because at the end of the day that love belongs to someone I love very dearly.’ He finishes and you couldn’t help but burrow your head into his neck.

‘You’re too good for me sometimes.’ You mutter against him as you felt him chuckle.

‘I can say the same for you, my beloved flower.’ Argenti replied. ‘It’s hard not to when you’ve been nothing but a beacon of hope and love for me, even in my most dire of times. Your touch alone puts me back together again and makes me stronger then ever.’ He adds as he feels you clinging onto him for dear life as he whispered in your ear to say;

‘So please don’t be dissuaded from ever touching me when it’s brought me nothing but the happiest of emotions.’

Blade:

Stays silent.

Will not move an inch.

He sees what you’re trying to do from the corner of his eyes, but won’t do anything unless you have well and truly given up on trying to initiate contact. And it isn’t until then does he huff indignantly and grabs one of your hands and puts it against one side of his face, holding it there as he stared at you with his ruby red eyes.

‘Was this what you were trying to do?’ He asks despite already knowing the answer.

‘I didn’t want you to feel as though you were pressured into to let me touch you solely because I’m your partner.’ You replied as you were about to pull your hand away from him, when you felt him tighten his grip on your hand. ‘Don’t you think I would’ve said something by now if I did?’ He rebutted with a raised brow and you felt a little silly.

Blade never failed in letting it be known if you were doing something he didn’t quite like. He didn’t need to say much but his silence followed by a certain look in his eye were more than enough to tell you that you’d better stop while you were ahead.

‘True.’ You muttered as you instinctively began stroking his cheek with your thumb, not realising that Blade was pushing more of himself into your hand, much like a cat would when scratched between the ears and humming in content. He looked cute as he did handsome in that moment where his face looked the closest it ever could to peaceful in a long time.

‘If it means anything, your touch is the least painful thing I’ve experienced in my life as far as I’m aware.’ Blade says, finally letting go of your wrist as you placed your other against the side of his face and began stroking the skin there. You then heard him groan in content, a sound of which filled you with both warmth and joy in knowing that your touch helps him find peace, even if it was a small and temporary amount, but still peace none the less.

Aventurine:

Bastard man straight up teases you for being too shy to hold his hand.

‘Hmm? Is someone too shy to even hold my hand? How devastating that must be for you.’ He’d say before grabbing your hand and pressing his palm against yours. ‘It’s as easy as this.’ He continues before intertwining his fingers with yours, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand for added effect.

‘See? That wasn’t so bad was it?’ He asked teasingly, throughly taking enjoyment in all this, when deep down he loved nothing more than to feel you holding his hand at long last. ‘Nope, not at all.’ You replied, feeling your heart going a mile an hour when you felt him squeeze your hand, followed by the caress of his thumb against the back of your hand.

‘Then don’t be afraid to hold my hand in the future, I don’t bite but I’d think you would enjoy that a bit too much even if I did.’ He teases, which was followed by boisterous laughter.

Aventurine may act like he wasn’t phased at all by your touch, when in reality he was begging for more but didn’t feel as though he was deserving of asking for such a thing. He may talk a big game but is equally as hesitant to physical affection as you were for the exact same reasonings.

He silently encourages your need to touch him by doing things that suggested that he wanted it just as badly as you, seeing as how words failed him in moments where he’s wanting something he’s made himself believe he couldn’t have. After all in his own eyes aventurine was a loser, a coward, a fraud, a cheater unworthy of any ounce of kindness nor love but the moment he felt you hold him, his mind goes blank and all he can focus on was his you hands held him as though he were porcelain.

It was his favourite feeling and whenever he sees you hesitating in giving him that oasis from his own mind, he’s quick in making himself believe that you’ve realised that he wasn’t worth your affection, and tries to force you into giving it to him by teasing you and guiding your hands to where he needed to feel your touch most; which was his face.

Aventurine may not admit it out load but he can’t fathom living without your touch, he’d probably go mad but for now he’ll keep a hold of your hand for the remainder of the day.

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frantic-fiction · 3 months

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Payback 18+

(Pic: northernolddragon) I cropped it

Astarion x f!reader, Astarion x f!Tav

Summary: Astarion goes too far and embarrasses Tav in front of the party. She decides she wants a bit of revenge.

Warning: Smut, MDNI, slight Dom!reader, slight Sub!Astarion, Dom/Sub switch (kinda?), delayed orgasm, Oral sex m and f receiving, PnV sex,

Word Count: 3.8k (I'm a gremlin who just can't help myself)

Masterlist

That fucking asshole. How dare he? You slammed open the door, the handle hitting the wall with a resounding smack. Locking it behind you, you kick off your shoes, stumble over your feet, and rip off your dress. You begin throwing off every other accessory and remaining article of clothing until you are completely bare and breathing heavily. You sigh, frustrated, and pull on a pair of trousers and an old, tattered shirt. Anger pulses through your veins, and embarrassment burns deep in your chest. Falling onto the bed, you drop your face into your hands and pull at the ends of your hair.

Astarion went too far this time. Usually, you loved his sassy comments and sarcastic humor. You were typically the first to laugh when he jests and pokes fun at you and the other party members. But how can you laugh when his lighthearted jokes turn to dirty secrets? When he's telling your friends out in a crowded pub intimate details from your sex life.

You should have known it was a bad idea to have Astarion feed from you while there was liquor coursing through your veins. But he was curious and very convincing. It didn't take long before you were offering him your wrist. Neither of you really thought the alcohol would affect Astarion, and you didn't expect Astarion to be such a fucking ass when intoxicated.

He teased you and shared private moments all night, and you wanted to hate him. Moreover, you wanted him to be sorry. Beg for forgiveness and mean it. But Astarion is a prideful man and has a stupidly hard time giving out apologies. He's improved, especially with you, but you don't want a simple sorry. You want payback, a little revenge, or as close to it as possible.

A sudden, devilish thought crosses your mind, and you know how you're going to get just that. Quickly, you jump up and move to set your plan in motion. You clean up the room, erasing your angry tantrum from before, and strip down naked once more. You dig around Astarion's pack and pull out his white-laced shirt. And then you wait for him.

It takes just under an hour of waiting. You filled the time with one of the books you picked up the other day. But just as you go to flip another page, the door handle twists, catching on the lock. You’re on your feet and at the door before Astarion can attempt to unlock it. The palm of your hand hits the door hard, and you're holding it close.

"Why should I let you in?" Your tone lace with venom.

"Darling," Astarion sighs, a tinge of exhaustion undertoned in his words, his voice no longer holding that annoying drunken slur. "Must we do this?"

"You weren't very nice to me tonight." You lean your back against the door, crossing your arms. “I have half a mind to make you bunk with someone else.”

His head falls against the wood, pushing lightly against your back. "If you let me in, I promise I'll make it up to you." It felt like he was breathing these words sinfully into your ear.

You flip the lock and open the door. "Say you're sorry."

"Is that really what you want?" He purrs, his eyes darkening and pressing into your space. "I much prefer physical apologies."

Astarion pulls you into a lustful kiss, his hand snaking up your shirt and massaging your breast. He bites your lip, and when you gasp, he licks into your mouth. He traces his fingers over your hip bone and pulls you close.

"Wearing my shirt with no underwear?” He nips your bottom lip, and you shudder. “I don't think you're as mad as you say, my sweet."

You smile sharply and pull him further into the room. Reclaiming his lips, you start pulling at his shirt, exposing Astarion's pale skin. He's kissing down your neck, tugging your shirt aside to lather his tongue over your shoulder. His fangs tease your skin, and you moan. Trailing your fingertips down his stomach, you undo his pants, tugging it down. Astarion steps out, leaving him in a pair of tight briefs, an outline of his swelling cock evident against the straining fabric. He pushes the trousers to the side, and the two of you fall onto the bed in a heap.

"Who says this is for you?" you say coyly, forcing his head to the side and biting hard at his throat.

"Hells,"

"Maybe I was going to take care of myself tonight." You kiss his cheek "Take a bath, have some wine," you bring your lips to his ear. "Touch myself." You tease his ear between your teeth. His grip tightens on you. "I don't need you to please myself, Astarion."

Astarion groans deep in his chest and runs his hands up your thighs to the swell of your ass. He grinds you down onto his half-hard cock. "But here we are."

"But here we are." You mimic, smiling smugly, relishing how Astarion so confidently believes he holds all the cards.

He kisses you again, and you let him. You could easily get lost in the wet dance of lips and the delicious silent promises of more to come. Give in and just let Astarion consume you. But no, you are far more excited with what's to come.

"I want to taste you." You moan needily- dragging your teeth down his chest. Maybe you were playing it up, but it seemed to work. You circle his nipple with your tongue, and Astarion lets out a deep groan, nails digging into the plush flesh of your ass.

"Don't let me stop you, my love,"

You tug his cock out and squeeze him softly; he's stiff and aching and instinctually bucks up into your palm. Licking over his nipple, you begin to suck. A trickle of precum starts to fall, and you collect it, beginning to stroke slowly. Kissing down his stomach, you reach his pelvic bone. You look up, meeting Astarion's intense gaze. His mouth is agape, his chest moving in harsh breaths. One hand is reaching up, gripping the headboard in an ironclad grip. You softly press a kiss to the tip of his cock before taking him into your mouth.

"Fuck," He hissed through clenched teeth, "Gods, I love your mouth."

Urged on by his response, you take more of him in his mouth and begin to move at a slow pace sucking and bobbing your head. Astarion's hands grabbed your shoulder and softly stroked up your neck to the back of your head. He didn't force the pace, just gently held your head, rubbing his thumb softly behind your ear.

"That's it, Darling. So good to me."

Heat rushes through your body, the praise going straight to your core. You hum and begin to bob your head faster. Sucking hard, hollowing your cheeks, you trail your hand down his tensed thigh and cup his balls. You roll him in your hands, and Astarion moans, thrusting into your mouth. You gag and grab his hips, holding him down with your weight.

He's close. His eyes are unfocused, trying desperately to stay on you; he's letting out breathless gasps and attempting to buck up into your mouth, seeking more for you to give. That's when you pull off of him entirely and squeeze his cock tightly.

Astarion lets out a needy whine, sits up, and instantly meets your eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

"Apologize!"

"What?" Astarion says, dazed and still lost in the loss of stimulation. Then it dawns on him, and he realizes what's happening. "Naughty little-"

You give him one stroke, and Astarion chokes. "Apologize for embarrassing me tonight."

"My sweet, I was intoxicated; it's not really my fault." He's trying to give off an air of indifference, but you know him better. Astarion was moments away from crumbling.

"I was just as drunk, and I wasn't telling everyone about our sex life." You lick over the tip and begin to stoke him slowly. "Apologize, and I might just let you fuck me."

He moans deeply, thrusting up into your fist. "I-ng shit, I'm sorry, you were upset with my words tonight."

"Nope, try again." You stop completely and meet his eyes. "You have to mean it."

"Please! My love, I'm sorry." His voice cracks. He's practically whimpering; he brings his fist to his mouth and bites down to keep a semblance of control.

"That's closer, but what you said still hurts, so I want you to make it up to me." You move up his body and kiss him. "Do you want to make it up to me?"

"Yes! Anything!" He sounds so desperate. You don't think you've ever felt so aroused. You clench instinctually against nothing, seeking friction that's not there.

"I want you to beg. I want you to beg to fuck me, handsome" You scratch your nails teasingly down the broad of Astarion's chest. "I want everyone to hear how - how did you put it, love? 'desperate and needy' you are for me."

He looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, eyes blackened from arousal, and a smile stretches his lips."I like this side of you, Darling."

Astarion captures your lips, and you're on your back before you can comprehend what's happening. "My sweet, please, I need to touch you." His voice is louder than it needs to be.

"Do you?" You purr, hooking your leg over his hip.

"Yes!" He moans out, rutting against your dripping cunt. "Please, I need you!"

You brush your hand through Astarions hair and pull him down for a kiss. "Then be a good boy and touch me."

Astarion doesn't need to be told twice to tug up your shirt. You let him pull it off and throw it across the room. He starts to trail sloppy, wet kisses down the column of your neck. A rough hand grabs your breast, and nimble fingers pinch your nipple. You sigh and thrust your hips up when Astarions mouth finds your other nipple and rolls the peak softly between his teeth before sucking hard.

"Astarion," you moan, caressing any available skin of his you can reach. "So good to me."

He grunts at the praise and moves down your stomach, leaving kitten licks and sharp nips in his wake. His hands are trailing down your sides and stop to grip your hips in a firm hold. He pulls you down the bed, and you let out a little yelp. Astarion meets your half-lidded gaze and bites at the fat of your thigh, lapping up the droplets of blood that bead up to the surface.

"The sweetest treat," Astarion moans, throwing your leg over his shoulder, trailing his nose down your thigh to the spot you want him most. But I'm still famished. I need more, please."

"Don't let me stop you, handsome." You smirked, mimicking his previous words. Your breath was catching, and you felt just as desperate as Astarion.

You let out a gargled mewl when Astarion trails one long agonizing lick up the length of your cunt. He never breaks eye contact; you bite your lip and grip one of your breasts, fisting the other into the bedsheet.

Astarion consumes you like he'll never be able to again. Desperate, messy, and with no care for the thinness of the walls. You gasp and instinctually try to clamp your legs close. His cold hands hold your hips apart, only allowing pathetic gyrates of your hips. The room is filled with filthy wet slurps and needy moans as Astarion tears you apart.

"Faster, Star. Don't you dare stop," you demand, grinding against his face, shivering when his pointed nose teases your clit. "Such a good boy."

His moan quakes through your cunt, and you throw your head back into the pillow, arching your back slightly. Astarion's fingers push into you and match the ragged pace of his mouth. Your hand finds his soft curls again and holds him in place, pulling gently at the roots. Astarion could break away anytime, but he seems to like it because you feel him grind down against the bed.

"No, no, pretty boy." You tsk, pulling his hair harsher. He grunts against you, sucking harder at your clit. "You don't get to come until you’re forgiven."

Astarion pulls away from your clit, chin glistening with your juices. His fingers are still pumping into you. "You cruel women." He practically whines breathlessly.

"You're- shit- you're making up for your naughty behavior, remember?" The coil is tightening in your stomach, your body hot, and your breath shaky. "Now be good and make me come."

He smiles wickedly and resumes his ministrations. He curls his fingers up and presses against the spot that has you gasping in silent cries. His mouth finds your clit again and laps his tongue against it. He's relentless, and your legs are trembling. The pleasure is building, the flame licking through your veins.

"m close, Star,"

He doesn't stop or voice any cheeky comments he would typically make. He just pumps his fingers faster and sucks and lavishes his tongue harder against your cunt. You feel your body tightening, and you grab for anything to hold on to; one hand is still in Astarion's hair, but your other hand grabs his shoulder, digging your nails into his flesh. Astarion scrapes his fangs playfully against your clit, and that's all you need to fall apart.

You're moaning and screaming his name and mumbling incoherent praises into the air. Black spots seem to cloud over your vision, and all your muscles tighten at once. Astarion drags you through your orgasm, slowing his fingers and moving to soft kitten licks. It takes you a moment to return to yourself, and you are out of breath and covered in sweat. Looking down, you see Astarion. He's staring at you, licking his lips, collecting every drop of you. His face is full of affection and untenable arousal.

"Am I forgiven?"

You surge forward and tackle him into an uncoordinated kiss. You maneuver him around until his back is against the headboard, and you are seated comfortably in his lap. Your tongue tangled with his, the tangy sweetness of your release mingling in the dance. Pulling back, you catch his lip tugging playfully.

"Hmm… I don't know," You smirk, grabbing his neglected cock and giving it a few languid strokes.

"Darling, please!" He begs, head falling back, exposing his neck to your greedy mouth.

You press your mouth to the hollow of his throat and suck until you're sure there will be a noticeable mark tomorrow. "I guess you have been such a good boy." Circling your thumb over his tip, you swipe his cock through your folds, coating him in your arousal.

"Yes, I've been so good." His voice chokes, and he clenches his jaw, desperately trying to seek more friction. Hells, he was so incredibly sexy like this.

"And I think a good boy deserves a reward. Wouldn't you agree, Star?" The rush you feel at his desperation, his neediness for you and only you, has your confidence surging.

"Yes! Please!"

You line him up with your hole and sit down painfully slow. Two groans of pleasure join together in the room as you seat yourself to the hilt. Astarion grabs your hips in a death grip, releasing an almost painful hiss through his teeth. For a moment, you don't move; feel the stretch and the completeness he gives you. Meeting his eyes, you place your hands on his shoulders and raise on your haunches. You pull up almost off him completely before lowering at the same brutally slow pace.

"Gods, you're so tight." Astarion groans, head falling against your arm.

He uses the grip on your hips to help set a steady pace that has both of you dissolve into a moaning, blubbering mess. You clench around him and run your hand up his neck to the back of his head, pulling him to your chest. Astarion is quick to resume lavishing your breast with messy kisses, surely littering you with bites and bruises that will linger for days to come.

You would have loved to drag this out. Punish Astarion for hours until he was nothing but a mumbling, blushing pussy-drunk mess. But you were growing impatient, and the delicious feeling of Astarion's cock filling you was clouding your more devious thoughts. Grinding your hips down hard onto his cock had Astarion gasping into your chest.

You cupped his jaw and captured his mouth before whispering seductively into his ear. "You've been forgiven. Now I want you to fuck me hard."

A deep groan rumbled through Astarion's chest, and he did just that. You're suddenly on your back, and his tongue is in your mouth. The slow pace was thrown out the window to a brutal pounding that tore the breath from your lungs.

"A-astarion, fuck” You roll your hips to match his pace.

You're not going to last much longer; you don't think you've ever been more aroused, and seeing how pent-up Astarion is, having been teased along for too long. You know he's just as close. You grab his hand and pull it down your body to where you want it most. He grunts huskily in your ear and rubs harshly at your bundle of nerves. Throwing one of your legs over Astarion's hip, you adjust your body, and his thrusts find a new angle that presses against that beautiful spot inside of you.

Astarion’s other hand, can’t seem to stay still, moving up and down your body, trying to pay equal attention to all of your soft skin. He’s squeezing your hip, tickling your side, cupping your breast, and moving back down to repeat all over again. He’s peppering kisses over your forehead and cheeks, biting your kiss-swollen lips, running his nose along yours. It’s overwhelming and not enough, but it is always with him. Astarion moves to your neck and sucks at his favorite spot, the place he feeds most frequently from, silently begging for a taste.

"Mhm," you nod, words no longer forming on your tongue.

Astarion's fangs pierce your skin, and the familiar icy cold floods your veins. You cry out as he greedily drinks from your body. Your blood seems to turn Astarion feral. He grabs your other leg to join the other in a link behind his back. Astarion grinds you into the mattress, brutally pumping in and out of you. All your body can do is wrap your arms around his neck, smoothing your hands over his body, and hold on. The only sounds that echo in the darkroom are the slick, obscene sounds of skin sliding against skin and needy moans and desperate whimpers.

You can't tell if you're lightheaded because of the pleasure Astarion is giving you or the blood that he's consuming from your neck. It's probably both, but right now, you only care that he keeps going because that lovely burning heat is returning and boiling in your stomach.

"I'm so close," you whimper.

This has Astarion finally pulling away from your neck. He looks deeply into your eyes, his pace never faltering. There's a trickle of your blood running down his chin, and you reach up to catch it. You push your thumb into his mouth, and without breaking your gaze, Astarion licks it clean. He grabs your hand and laces his fingers with yours above your head. His hand somehow seems to move faster against your clit, and you are moments away from coming undone. On the ledge but seemingly hanging by your fingertips.

"S-so am I, darling." He manages to stutter out, and you pull him down for a kiss. It is desperate and needy, and the taste of your blood, sharp and metallic, mingles with his spit. "Come for me, love; let me feel you."

Those words, always commanded with such affection, had an immediate effect. You clench around him like a vice, mouth falling open in a silent gasp. You sigh his name into his mouth and cup his face with your spare hand as if the moment you come down from this high Astarion might no longer be real.

Astarion's pace falters, and he clumsily thrusts. Once, twice, three more times before burying deep into your cunt and coming hard with a deep groan. While you're still amid your ecstasy, you are still mesmerized by Astarion coming undone before you. The way his jaw clicks shut and he squeezes his eyes closed. The tightening of his hand on your body, gripping hard enough to bruise, not that you minded. The stuttering minute juts of his hips as he rides out the last of his orgasm. And finally, watching Astarion's body turn to jelly, bones and muscles collapsing under his weight as he falls onto you, head finding your chest.

You run your hand through his curls, scratching his scalp. Astarion purrs softly and kisses your chest, running delicate fingers up your side. He catches your hand and brings it to his lips to kiss the inside of your wrist.

Astarion rolls off of you and moves from the bed. You whine at the loss of fullness but make no other protest. A tiredness has settled deep in your bones; you don't think you could move if you wanted to.

Thankfully, Astarion was quick to return. In his hands was a cup of water and a wet cloth. Smiling softly, you take the glass from him and take a long gulp. Handing it back, he places it on the nightstand and rejoins you in bed. Astarion delicately cleans you off, kissing your neck when you wince from oversensitivity. After that was taken care of, he discards the used cloth and pulls you to his chest, kissing the crown of your head and tightening his hold on you. You hum softly and nuzzle into his chest.

"I am sorry," he says, fingertips drawing nonsense patterns on your back. You glance up to meet his gaze, and he pushes some of your hair out of your eyes. "I'm truly sorry I hurt you, my love. I didn't mean to."

You give him a tender smile, "Thank you, Star," you kiss the chest just above his heart and whisper, lips brushing against his skin. "I love you."

"And I love you."

Next Day: You giggle over your glass of juice, watching a very disgruntled Astarion from across the room. His shoulders were tense, and his eyes were sharp. His bare forearms crossed over his chest. He was slouched down in his chair, looking like he would rather be anywhere else than in his current situation.

Gale was sitting in front of the vampire, a dusty tome placed on the table between him. You could barely hear the wizard's words as he vainly tried to teach Astarion a simple silencing spell. Gale was trying to help, given the very vocal display Astarion gave last night. And you couldn’t be more pleased at Astarion’s predicament.

Astarion's ears twitch and his head snap in your direction to give you a pointed glare. He's only given more of your laughter in response.

Fine I'll admit it, I like a needy Astarion, sue me. But you got to agree that drunk Astarion would be a fucking menace.

Anyways let me know what ya thought. Talking with you guys is a highlight of my day.

Taglist: @heartfully10 @ayselluna @marina-and-the-memes @anixson @canonicalchaoticneutral @toadsbitch @meulinkitten-blog @ambr4armr

Want to be added? DM me.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion smut #reader insert #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion imagine #bg3 #fanfic #writing #frantic fiction

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aemondsbabe · 4 months

Text

Ñuha Zaldrīzes

summary: future & facesitting || discussing wishes for your baby with your husband turns into something more

pairing: daemon targaryen x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, pregnant reader, oral sex (f receiving), allusions to piv sex, dirty talk, daemon being soft and loving we love to see it, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 1.8k

a/n: happy day eight of 12 days of smuff!!! surely this counts as future otherwise i'd have them fucking in a spaceship & that just didn't sit right with me

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @pedropcl

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

A soft giggle bursts from your lips as Daemon’s hand skirts over your large belly yet again, his soft touches tickling your skin as his hand ghosts lovingly over your bump, the delicate lacy fabric of your nightgown bunched around his wrist.

“Okay, okay, so,” you say breathily, finally calming down as his touch seems to settle on your hip, “If it’s a little girl, perhaps Vaenera? And for a little boy… Vaenor?” You suggest, your breath warm against the prince’s neck as you rest your cheek against his shoulder, tucked safely into his side atop your silk covered bed.

“I still think we should name her Visenya,” the blond drawls, tracing soothing patterns into your hip as he holds you against him, “With a nice strong name like that, she will grow to greatness.”

You stay silent for a moment, your eyes locked onto the fluid movements of the sheer curtains that lead out onto the balcony, watching as they blow in the breeze carried in by the Narrow Sea. Daemon can’t help but notice you still against him and he smiles softly when he sees that familiar, far off look in your eyes – always his dreamer.

“Where did you go?” He asks gently, all traces of the usual brash, cocky tone with which he speaks gone.

“Nowhere,” you smile, tilting your head up to peer at him through your lashes, “I was merely thinking of what kind of person this little one will grow up to be.” You stroke a hand over your belly as you speak, your smile only growing as you feel a soft, barely there kick against your palm.

“If they’re even half as kind and gentle as their mother, the world will be a much better place with them in it,” your husband whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. A pink blush blooms across the apples of your cheeks, as it always does when he speaks so tenderly.

“And if they’re half as hard headed as their father, well… somehow, I will love them all the more,” you whisper, laughing yet again as Daemon trails his fingers over your side, tickling you purposefully this time.

“Me, hard headed?” He teases, laughing along with you, “I’m not the one that nearly sent the kitchens into a tailspin this evening when they demanded duck, now am I?” His violet eyes sparkled in the low light of the candles that flickered around the room, a teasing smirk etched across his face.

“That’s very unfair!” You giggle, leaning up to properly look at him. “You know how I am when I’m with child,” you huff, your blush only deepening when you see his eyes darken just slightly as his gaze flits over you, “Especially once it’s this far along; all I want is roast duck and–”

“And lemon cakes at every meal,” Daemon finishes for you, softly smiling, “Yes, sweetling, the entire castle is most aware.” He chuckles.

“Then the kitchens should know to have duck, that’s all I’m saying…” You grumble, sinking back down into his embrace. The two of you relax into a comfortable silence for many minutes, your husband’s breathing so steady and calm that you assume he’s fallen asleep. When he speaks again, his soft voice almost startles you.

“The kitchens did particularly well with the lemon cakes this evening…”

Your eyebrows furrow together at the statement and you lift your head again, meaning to give him a confused stare. The cakes were exceptionally good this evening, but you can’t help but notice the teasing lilt in his voice.

You open your mouth to speak, but the darkness in Daemon’s eyes gives you pause, a breathy, barely audible whimper escaping your lips before you have a chance to stop it.

“However, I can’t help but be in the mood for a much different type of dessert, little wife.” He says lowly, gently pulling you up until your faces are level, careful to be ever conscious of your growing stomach.

“Daemon –” You start, only to be cut off with a searing kiss as he presses his lips to yours. You whimper against his lips, your head already spinning in his embrace as his tongue toys with yours.

“It’s been so long,” he starts, trailing kisses down your jaw and neck, nibbling at one spot that always has you seeing stars, “Since you’ve let me have what I want.”

“H-Husband,” you gasp breathlessly, your nails digging helplessly into his chest as you cling to him, “You had me just this, Gods, this morning for breakfast, if you’ll recall.” You managed to say between whimpers and gasps as he practically feasted on the sensitive spot on your neck, his hands softly kneading and caressing your breasts.

He makes a small, displeased hum before he pulls back to look at you, his dark eyes studying you carefully before a small smirk grows on his lips, “You know very well that’s not what I’m after.”

Your eyes widen just slightly as you finally catch his meaning; you shake your head with a small chuckle. “Surely you can’t be serious,” your smile fades as he holds your stare with a small, unchanging smirk, “Daemon, I’ll crush you!”

“And what an honorable death that would be, sweet wife,” he chuckles, his hands firmly grasping your hips as he lifts you up and onto his lap, your head spins as you feel his already hard length pressing against you through the thin linen breeches he has on, “I’ll be fine, it’s not as if this is exactly new territory for us…” He teases, gently skirting his hands over your belly.

“We’ve never done it when I’ve been… like this, though,” you shyly point out, looking down at your bump.

“Do you really not see how insatiable I become every time you’re with child?” Daemon asks, his voice soft and gentle, “I will only ever have you like this a scant few times. Please, sweetling, let me savor it.”

Biting your lip, you gaze down at him, eyes trailing across his bare chest and shoulders and up the strong column of his neck before they finally settle on his face – the look in his eyes nearly making you gasp. His violet eyes are fixed on you, roaming over your body with so much love and adoration that you feel as if you may melt from it.

Before you even register the movement, you’re nodding.

Daemon’s eyes instantly flick up to yours, sparkling with victory. His hands grip your hips again, gently guiding you up his muscular form as he silently thanks the Seven that you wear nothing beneath your Myrish lace nightgowns. A loud groan practically bursts from the prince’s chest once you’re positioned over his face; he loves being surrounded by you — loves the way your soft thighs bracket his head, the way you position your dripping center perfectly over his mouth, and the way the only thing he sees when he looks up is your belly, swollen with his seed, his child.

If it were up to Daemon, he would happily spend the rest of his days here.

Your chest heaves as you grip the headboard of the bed, your heart hammering in your chest from the anticipation of it. You whimper softly as his hands, rough from so many years of sword fighting and dragon riding, grab at your thighs and hips.

He presses soft, sweet kisses to the inside of your thighs before licking a slow, steady line up your center; you can feel him smirk triumphantly against you as moans and whimpers spill from your lips.

“Oh, Gods, Daemon!” You gasp, voice already ragged as you white-knuckle the headboard. Your thighs tremble with the effort of holding yourself even a fraction of an inch above your husband’s face, something he notices quite quickly. A displeased growl rumbles from his chest, making you pant as it vibrates against your core.

“Fucking sit,” Daemon rasps, tugging you against his mouth, his tongue roughly spearing into you as he grinds your pearl against his nose, hands moving your hips against his face.

Your mind all but whites out as he rocks you against him, nose and tongue working in perfect tandem to send shivers down your spine. Your eyes squeeze shut, frantic moans pouring from your mouth as a fire steadily builds within you.

“H-Husband,” you pant, walls clenching tightly around his tongue as he groans into your heat, “I— Fuck, I’m—!” You can hardly get the words out as Daemon seals his lips around your sensitive bud, suckling it at a maddening pace as his hands move down to cup your ass, kneading it roughly.

Your face flushes at the slick sounds pouring from between your thighs as the prince growls against you, sounding as if he’s gaining as much satisfaction as you are. Your core clenches at the thought, pleasure threatening to consume you.

“Daemon!” You cry urgently, shaking above him, a thin sheen of sweat covering your body. You want so badly to thread your fingers through his hair as you normally would, but you can’t even see his face around your protruding belly.

He groans loudly beneath you once more and fucks his tongue back into you, causing the knot in your belly to pull tightly before finally unraveling. Sparks burst behind your eyelids, your back arching as your whole body tenses and relaxes in time with his movements.

The prince moans appreciatively, messily drinking down your pleasure as you peak on top of him. You jump when one of his hands smacks against your ass, the tingling sting extending your release, the intensity of it nearly making you go mad.

Finally, once your signs of relief have turned into whimpers of overstimulation, Daemon releases you with a pleased hum, helping you shuffle back down his body until you’re straddling his hips once again.

You laugh softly at the sight of him — his cheeks flushed a light pink, hair sticking up at odd angles, and a pleased, self-satisfied grin on his face.

“You look as if you were the one who was ravished, my dragon,” you tease, your heart rate slowly returning to normal as you trace over the muscular dips in his chest and stomach.

The prince chuckles lowly, his violet eyes still dark with lust as he takes in your curves. “Ravishing you is a pleasure in and of itself, sweet wife,” he drawls, smirking as you gasp at the feel of his cock against your sensitive core as he rolls his hips against you, “I trust you’ll allow me to feel it again?” He asks, that all too familiar cocky tone back, as if asking is merely a formality.

Sighing happily, you bite your lip as you stare down at him, the knot in your belly beginning to tighten again as you feel his length pressing hotly to you.

“I believe that can be arranged.”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel @avidreader73 @marvelescvpe @imawhorecrux

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dollfacefantasy · 5 months

Text

Down for the Count

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: while spending time with leon, you want to play fight. but having you in such a compromising position is obviously going to lead to something more.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, daddy kink, size kink, praise/degradation

word count: 5.3k

a/n: yay a- a- another one. thank you so so much to @sleepyluxe and @explorevenus for inspiration and ideas on this one when i was struggling. both of them are so smart and wonderful and i love them so much. i hope everyone enjoys <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight

Small drops of rain fall outside and splatter onto your windows. You and Leon are lying in bed, limbs intertwined and bodies pressed against one another. The bedroom was dim from the overcast weather and felt perfect for the lazy day you were having.

Leon rubs your back while taking deep, even breaths. You can hear his heartbeat in the position you're in with your head on his chest. You were happy to see him so relaxed. It wasn’t everyday that the two of you could spend time together like this.

His large palm trailing up and down your skin in soothing repetitive strokes has you melting against his side, feeling so at peace and attached to him. You instinctively lean into his touch for more. You nuzzle his chest and drag your cheek against his pectoral muscle.

He chuckles at your little display and tightens his arm around you. He’s still caressing your back as he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Your eyes flutter shut momentarily. For a second, you just take in the soft sounds of rain outside and the feeling of his strong body wrapped around you between the soft blankets. It felt almost like a dream, like you and him had created your own little world for just the two of you.

Everything felt so relaxing right now, but at the same time, it all was building a need inside you. Whenever Leon got this soft with you, it just made you crave him more. You couldn’t get enough. Even though you were as close as physically possible, you still wanted closer.

In an attempt to satiate your desire, you reach over and grab his free hand. You lace your fingers with his, feeling that extra bit of intimacy you longed for.

While holding his hand, it’s impossible to not notice the size difference between you two. His hand engulfs yours completely, almost looking as if he’s made on a different scale. You bring his hand closer and stretch out your fingers against his to look at the disparity before locking your hands together again.

“Your hands are so small, sweetheart,” he notes, seeing what you were thinking about.

You respond with a shy smile and gently nudge his thigh with your knee. “Or your hands are really big.”

“No, baby, look at you,” he says with his own smile spreading on his face.

He pulls your hand up and examines the size. He smirks as he loops his thumb and index finger around your wrist to show how they could touch.

“My little doll,” he coos and kisses the crown of your head. He absentmindedly plays with your fingers like he’s studying the different ways they could bend and stretch with his own.

The sweet names he called you, the loving tone of his voice, the constant physical contact. All of it only served to intensify the yearning you felt. You really just could not get enough of him, and it made you feel restless.

You hook one of your legs around one of his and pull slightly. He doesn’t react, so you continue, adding your other leg. You playfully squirm your legs with his to push and pull them. He drops your hand on his chest and looks down at you with a knowing smile. You nudge your head against his bicep as a way of signaling what you want.

“What are you doing?” he asks and brushes some of your hair out of your face.

“Nothing…” you say in a coy tone as you continue your movements.

He shakes his head, picks you up by the waist, and places you on top of him so that you’re straddling his abs. He smiles up at you, looking so cute in only his shirt and your panties. He already knew what you wanted, having played this game with you many times before.

“Try again, pretty girl. Use your words,” he says. His fingertips coast over your hips, causing chills to run through your skin.

“I wanna play,” you say, running your hands over his chest as you look down at him.

“You do, huh?” he says as his eyebrows raise. He squeezes your hips and a short laugh escapes his throat. He knew the mood you were getting into. “Well, what do you wanna play?”

“I wanna wrestle,” you say with a devious smile.

“Oh, do you now?” he says. He shakes his head and exaggeratedly sighs, “You never learn, babydoll. You know how this is gonna end.”

You whimper playfully and stick your bottom lip out into a teasing pout. Your hands grab Leon’s own and try to pull them off your waist. He tightens his grip and smiles to see you already struggling to match his strength at something so simple. Blood rushes to his cock as you squirm a little on top of him.

“See? We haven’t even started, and you’re already whining. Do you just want Daddy to let you win? Is that it?” he says and grabs your hands, pinning them to your hips.

“No…” you say, feeling heat flash in your belly. It was harder to be a tease when he slipped into this role. He could read you so well and drive you wild so easily. You wriggle in his grasp a little more, purposefully pushing your clothed cunt down on his stomach in search of some friction.

He looks up at you with a cocky glint in his eyes. He could see the effect one simple word had on you. He lifts you again, but this time, flips you over, pinning you down on your back with him on top of you. He holds your wrists down to the mattress and has his knees planted on either side of you. He leans down and trails some soft kisses on your neck before raising his head again to look down at you.

“You’re no fair,” you whine as you try to escape his grasp. Your legs try and fail to snake out from under him while you yank your arms, attempting to free yourself.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Just surrender, and then we can get to what you really want,” he says.

“I just wanna play. I’m not perverted like you,” you respond.

“Oh, really? You’re telling me if I slide my hand in those panties, that cute cunt isn’t gonna be all wet and sticky for me,” he says. He moves your wrists up above your head so he can keep them down with one of his hands now. His now free hand moves down to your lower body, lightly petting your center over the thin fabric of your underwear.

Heat floods your cheeks. His tone was dropping lower, becoming more seductive. You shake your head and struggle more. You maneuver your hips to try and get his hand off you. In truth, this game revved you up like not much else could but part of the fun was acting like it didn’t. He understood that just as well as you did though.

“You’re cheating,” you whimper with a gasp as he presses down on your underwear and slots his fingers between the folds of flesh. You bite your lip as his digits brush over your clit.

“Oh, it seems like someone’s not so innocent,” he laughs, feeling your damp arousal through the cloth.

“Leon,” you whine. You put more effort into your struggling now. It still didn’t make any difference, “Stop cheating.”

He squeezes your wrists and brings the hand that was toying with your pussy up to your face. He holds your jaw and directs you to look straight at him.

“Maybe I’ll listen if you ask properly and stop throwing a fit like a brat,” he says and kisses your nose.

“Daddy…” you correct yourself and speak with more composure, “I wanna wrestle. Please.”

“There we go. That’s better,” he coos as his fingers rub your jawline. Two soft kisses land on each one of your cheeks before he gets off of you. A smug smile graces his face as he takes one of your hands and gives you a firm pull to your knees.

“Ok, you know how to start. Not that it will make any difference,” he says with a mocking smile as he gets into position.

The two of you are kneeling across from each other on the bed. Your stance mirrors his, legs spread for balance like he taught you. You put up your arms and grasp his hands to begin. You thread your fingers between his and try to get his arms to bend so you can take the advantage.

It’s clear to both of you that he could get you in a hold right here without really trying, but like a wolf batting a bunny around before making the killing strike, he gives you a moment to think this time will be the one you can finally win.

He just can’t get enough of you. The cute way your face scrunches as you focus on getting his wrists to bend, your sweet and quiet grunts, the way your pretty leg extends out behind you to gain more leverage. And most of all, the size difference between the two of you that was even more apparent now. God, it drove him up the wall.

This is why he couldn’t cut these moments short and win right away. If this was a real fight, he could shatter every bone in your hand without a second thought. Have you down and himself moved onto the next target without straining his smallest muscle. But he would never do that to you. His darling girl, his perfect baby. Never.

He never ever used his full strength while playing with you. In the beginning, he’d been concerned about putting his hands on you at all. Every small whine or whimper had him fawning over you, immediately checking if you were alright. Once you two had been together for a while and done this dance a few times, he relished those soft noises, each one stoking the flames of desire within him.

Now, he advances your little game as you still struggle to gain any control over him. He twists your wrists and inverts your hands to make you vulnerable. One of those soft cries leaves your mouth, and his lips curls upwards further in triumph.

He bends your wrist in a certain way and is able to spin you around, bringing you backwards and holding you flush against his chest. He locks his arms over yours and leans down to press some kisses to the crook of your neck.

“What do you do now, pretty baby?” he asks in a husky whisper.

You crack a smile of your own now as you remember what to do. You become dead weight, sliding down and flaring your elbows. You manage to push his thick arms off of you and escape his hold. You flip around as you fall forward and land face up on the mattress.

This was possibly Leon’s favorite part of this game. The moments where you could use tricks he’d taught you. In the beginning of your relationship when you’d just started this kind of thing, you were so eager to learn, and he found it so endearing.

You’d asked him to teach you some of his ‘secret agent moves,’ and of course, you were interested in roundhouse kicks and suplexes. He’d laughed when you said that, having trouble imagining you being able to lift anyone over your head, let alone suplex them. But he was thrilled to teach you some basic self defense. The way you focused and responded to each direction with a brief ‘mhm.’ The sight of your eyes lighting up when you got something right. Both had him falling for you hard.

In this moment, after you successfully broke free of him, your eyes do what they always do. They dart to connect with his, searching for his approval, the reassurance that you did it right, that you did it just the way he taught you to. He meets your hopeful gaze with a short laugh and a nod.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Proud of you,” he says. He takes in his favorite view, the way you glow as you bask in his praise, before lunging forward and pouncing on you. “But that doesn’t mean this is over.”

A startled squeal erupts from you at the sudden movement. You frantically flail your limbs as he tries to grab them. If he could get your wrists pinned down here, it was over for you. Luckily, you hook your heel at his hip and kick, giving yourself an opportunity to dart out from under him.

You fling your body across the bed, attempting to crawl away and get to the ground to get some solid footing. But before you can make it, a large hand wraps around your ankle and drags you back. You claw at the blankets that are bunching up beneath you, but it’s no use.

“Where do you think you’re off to, little love?” he teases.

The game is over now. At least, that’s what you were thinking. Leon strays from his usual strategy of getting on top of you here. Instead, he pulls you up and puts you in a headlock. His bicep wraps around your neck and holds you to his side.

“What do you do here, precious?” he asks.

This one’s a bit harder to get out of. Your natural inclination is to try and push him off by the waist. However, he’s way too strong for that to work. Your own head would probably pop off before you could slip out of his tight grip.

You rack your brain for the correct answer, but it’s kind of hard to think when the bulging muscles of his bicep are against your cheek. Finally, you figure it out and dig your fingers deep into the point on his wrist that causes his hand to spasm and loosen up the hold.

You slip out of the headlock and lunge across the bed, but he’s too quick. He’s on top of you in no time, caging you against the mattress from his position hovering above your back. You roll over underneath him to look up at his face.

“Nice try, but you should’ve gone for the leg, honey,” he says and gives you a few gentle, patronizing pats on your cheek.

“No, you were kneeling, and that move only works on the ankle,” you say.

His eyebrows raise and it’s hard to mask the pride in his eyes. He can feel his heart swelling in his chest. “That’s right, baby. Smart girl,” he says and leans down to peck your nose before returning to his position so he can give you that smug look, “But you still lose.”

“No fair. If you’d taught me how to suplex people then I could’ve won,” you huff.

“No, you couldn’t have,” he laughs.

“Uh, yeah I could have,” you say.

“Nope. One, you could not lift me, don’t kid yourself. And two, that’s not how a suplex works. You weren’t in the right position,” he says with a smirk.

“Whatever,” you concede, rolling your eyes.

He chuckles and lifts one of his arms to stroke some hair from your face. As his fingers coast over your skin like it’s the most delicate surface on earth, you take advantage of his less stable position. You lock your fists together and bat your forearms into his side, causing his other arm to buckle and him to fall to the side of you. You shoot up and start to rush to the edge of the bed for the second time, but again, he’s too fast.

His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs. His thumbs press into the sensitive area behind your knees. He yanks you back and pins you face down. He’s straddling your lower back with his hands on your arms and his feet hooked over your legs. His weight was firm on you this time. No room to roll around or dart to freedom. You still wriggle and squirm between his thighs in defiance.

“What’s wrong, baby? Not ready to cry ‘mercy’ just yet?” he mocks.

“You’re no fun. You never let me win,” you whimper, trying to flail your limbs for a potential escape.

“I don’t think you’d even know what to do if I let you win,” he says with a cruel laugh that has your panties dampening with more arousal, “You’d probably have to ask Daddy what to do wouldn’t you? Needing me to teach you what to do then too.”

You whine as your cheeks heat up.

“You know it’s true, baby girl,” he whispers, leaning down to speak directly into your ear. His breath fanning over you had chills breaking out across your skin.

But you still didn’t want to give in. You writhe more beneath him and try to thrash around the best you can. You attempt to push yourself up with your arms, but that doesn’t work. Not only were they held down, but when he saw you doing that, he twisted your wrist and had them pinned to your back with ease.

You buck harder, trying anything you can to get some type of chance. But all the struggling was a little tiring. Your muscles were starting to plead with you for a break, aching and cramping. He lowers his hips to press more of his weight on you. The combination of your dwindling energy and his increased efforts to keep you in place didn’t leave you with much optimism.

Your attempts get weaker, but your noises of protest get louder. You whimper and whine, occasionally throwing in a strained cry of “Daddy” to try and gain some sympathy. Like every other time you’ve done this though, the only thing your pleas do is get the blood rushing to Leon’s dick. You can feel it getting hard against your ass. You can feel the thick outline of it through his pants, and at this point, your panties are uncomfortable because of how wet you are. You shift your hips, pushing the roundness of your ass against the stiff length of his cock.

“Look at you,” he purrs, leaning down and rolling his hips into the fat of your ass, “This is nothing for me, baby. You’re gonna tire yourself out while I haven’t even broken a sweat. I could do this all night long, sweetheart.”

His hands release your arms, figuring you're done with fighting. He slides his own beneath your shirt. The rough skin of his palms drags along the smooth expanse of your back. His fingers ghost along your sides. He even reaches around to feel what he can of your tits while you're pinned down like this.

“Such a silly girl, thinking she ever had a shot at winning,” he breathes and presses some kisses from behind your ear down to the nape of your neck.

“I did,” you whimper, “You cheated.” Your eyes flutter as you try not to go dizzy from this alone. His lips just felt so good against your neck, and his voice felt even better to your ear.

“Aw, ok baby, you had a chance to win. Sure you did,” he coos condescendingly. He pulls your shirt up and over your head, tossing it off the bed and leaning down to press kisses all over your shoulders and upper back.

“I did. You set me at a disadvantage from the beginning cause you were trying to distract me,” you say, squirming a little more.

He quickly put a stop to that with a firm grip on your shoulders. “Mhm, I’m sure, princess. Daddy’s just so unfair, isn’t he?”

“Mhm,” you pout.

Leon chuckles at your stubbornness. He presses a kiss to your cheek and nuzzles your temple as he inches towards the main event. His hands knead your ass, giving it a gentle pat. Then, his fingers hook around the elastic of your panties and tug those down.

He can’t stop the arrogant look on his face when he sees your cunt glistening for him. Two of his fingers delve between your thighs with an exploratory touch. They stroke up and down your pussy, feeling the gathering slick and grazing your clit.

“Oh, baby. You’re making such a mess,” he chides playfully , “Daddy will make it better. Don’t worry, sweet girl.”

You grunt in pleasure at the touches. You rock your hips as much as you can in this position, but he pulls his fingers away. Whining in frustration again, you turn your head to shoot him a look. You see him trying to get his sweats off while still holding you down.

The slight struggle makes you giggle. He tries to maintain his stern facade, but it’s difficult to suppress the love pooling in his eyes when he hears that happy noise burst from your lips. That was why he played these games with you after all. Instead of just getting down to it and doing what he wanted, he always went the extra mile to see that smile. To make his baby happy. He gives your face a gentle shove and finishes up what he’s doing.

“Oh shut up. If you weren’t such a little brat, this would be a lot quicker,” he grunts.

That only makes you laugh more. He rolls his eyes and smiles now that you’re looking away. He manages to get his clothing and your underwear off while maintaining a good hold on you. Your time being a smartass is over as soon as you feel the warm, solid length of his cock hit your ass.

You bite your lip at the feeling of him lightly rubbing it on you. Your whole body heats up, nearly feeling the sensation that’s about to overtake you.

Leon knows exactly what’s running through your head right now, and it only serves to boost his ego. The clear power he held over you activated some primal desire in the deepest recesses of his heart.

“What’s that? Don’t hear you laughing now, babydoll,” he says.

You drop your face against the mattress, hiding your shy, lustful expression. You whine in protest from a mix of frustration and desperation at him making you wait. You start to squirm again. You pull at the mattress to try and gain some distance. You try to wriggle enough to shake him off. He isn’t put off at all by your little fit at all, only tightening his grip and pressing you harder into the mattress. He grins, leaning down, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks.

“God, sweetheart. Every time, I wonder if it will fit. I mean, I know it will, I’ve got that hole trained to take my cock perfectly. But just look at you. It doesn’t seem like it should work. You’re just so small, baby. I feel like I’ll break you in half sometimes,” he breathes.

After he finishes speaking, you go to reply, but you feel a shift in his position. You close your mouth, choosing to focus on the chance to play some more, but you quickly realize why one of his arms had moved. It was only to reach down and guide his cock as he bullies it inside of you.

“This is how you like it though, huh?” he asks through a clenched jaw as he pushes in until he’s bottoming out, “No room inside you for anything else but my fat cock. No thinking unless it’s about how much you love Daddy, right? Yeah, my baby, that’s how you like it.”

And just like that, you’re over playing. Any idea of riling him up by resisting is gone. You were getting what you really wanted after all. He was stretching you out and filling you up so perfectly. His body was all over yours, the sensual contact between the both of you, warm skin against warm skin.

Normally, he’d give you time to adjust, cooing praises at you and kissing your face as your cunt sucked all of him in. But he wasn’t in the mood to be patient with you right now.

He buries his face in your neck and keeps his arms firm in their place that has you boxed in. You’re whining and whimpering as his cock nudges spots of bliss inside you. His hips roll into the plush of your ass, trying to get as deep as possible.

“Oh, I know my pretty girl loves to lose. Especially when this is what you get. I spoil you, babydoll,” he teases, “But you’re always so brave going against Daddy, giving it all you have. So much fight in you, but the loss in the end is clearly your favorite part.”

“No…” you barely get out, still trying to be difficult. Even though you were done playing, you couldn’t just admit defeat. Your eyes were fluttering and your body trembled with the ecstasy of being full.

“Oh, it’s not?” he mocks you, “You wouldn’t lie to Daddy, would you? Cause that would break my heart, honey. My good girl wouldn’t do that, right?”

All you can do is whine as his cock keeps pumping in and out of you. You weakly shake your head that you wouldn’t do that, you wouldn’t be a bad girl and lie. He knew exactly which chords to play to get you like this.

“That’s what I thought. I know this is what you really want when you act like you wanna play, babydoll. You just want to feel how helpless you really are. How Daddy can hold you down and fuck you full of cum in any position he chooses. You just have to take it, and you love that,” he coos and kisses your cheek.

His arms close in around you. He brings them up and wraps them around your neck. Your chin rests on the crook of his elbow. He ruts into your pussy with slow and even but deep thrusts, grunting in your ear with each movement. He’s so all consuming, you don’t think you’re physically capable of a response at the moment. But it works out because he just keeps talking.

“You could just ask, but that’s no fun. You need me to show you what you want, how you want it. Isn’t that right? Cause what Daddy wants is what you want,” he says before nipping at your earlobe.

Pathetic sounds of pleasure tumble from your mouth as he speaks. You squeeze around his cock in pulses as the words hit your ears. You drool a little, not really noticing since your mind is clouded with euphoria.

He notices though. He swipes the saliva off your chin with his fingers before sticking them in your mouth. He laughs as your soft lips close around the digits obediently and suck on them without a second thought.

“Aw, my sweet baby. Poor thing. So fucked out. There’s no fight left in you anymore, is there baby girl? No, there isn’t,” he croons.

You whimper in defiance but keep sucking regardless. He smirks and decides to tease while still working his hips against you over and over. He slides his fingers back out of your mouth and rests them on your chin, making you feel them so close to your mouth, covered in your spit, but just out of your reach.

“Stop,” you whimper, “Just give ‘em.”

“That’s not how good girls ask for what they want, is it? You know better than that,” he whispers.

Your fists tighten around the blankets below you and you squirm a little. “You’re so mean to me,” you complain before a desperate whimper bubbles from your mouth again.

“Oh, I know. Daddy’s so mean, isn’t he? So mean to you,” he mocks.

You whine again in a mix of pleasure from his cock buried inside you and annoyance as he continues teasing. You begin to speak, but as you do, he shoves his fingers back into the warm, wet embrace of your mouth.

“Hush, stop complaining,” he says and continues thrusting, his body sliding on yours with the motions, “You’re getting exactly what you want.”

Your eyes roll back, and your response slips back down your throat. You suckle on his fingers again, some more saliva dripping from your lips as he pushes them flat on your tongue. Low moans emanate from you around his fingers. The cocky look is permanently displayed on his face now.

“‘Daddy I wanna wrestle!’” he mocks you with a chuckle, “No no no, all my sweet girl wants is for me to pin her down and stuff her full of my cock till she’s just a little mess for me. Drooling with no thoughts in that cute little head. Those pretty eyes, totally empty, just locked on Daddy. My needy baby.”

You just nod at this point, giving up on any form of difficulty or resistance. Your eyes begin to water as his fingers probe deeper into your mouth. Thinking becomes more of an abstract concept as he hammers into you, driving you closer to the finish line. Muffled expletives and calls of “Daddy” sound around his fingers.

He was feeling the rush too as he got closer to his own high. His arm that was still around your neck tightens its hold on you. His head is right next to yours. You hear his breath in your ear becoming more ragged as his thrusts grow more erratic.

“Fuck, babydoll,” he grunts, “Perfect pussy’s gonna make me cum.”

“Uh huh,” is all you’re able to mutter with your mouth full.

He nuzzles his face into your hair and removes his fingers from your mouth to just hold onto you as he fucks into you with increased focus. He plants light kisses on the side of your head while low moans rise out of him. His hips sputter as the coils of release contract within him.

“Are you ready for it, sweet girl?” he groans, “Daddy’s gonna fill you up just how you like. All for you, pretty baby.”

“Mhm, thank you Daddy,” you whimper, leaning your head into his as your body spasms with the imminence of your release.

“My good fuckin’ girl,” he grunts before sharply exhaling and moaning against your shoulder.

His hips rock against yours as you both reach your peaks. Your body convulses beneath him as you cum, euphoria flowing through your body in waves. Choked moans come from you while he growls against your skin. He continues his deep strokes, flooding you with his hot, thick cum. Your eyes flutter closed as you feel the craving inside you satiated.

Leon stays inside you for a few moments longer as you both come down from the high. His chest puffs out against your back as he catches his breath. Soon enough though, he rolls off of you. The air feels cool against your back now that he’s finally off of you.

You take a moment to catch your breath yourself and look over at him. He brushes some hair out of his face and stretches a little. You crawl over to him and curl up against his side, nuzzling into his chest. He strokes your hair and gives you a soft kiss. His thumb runs across your jaw as he looks into your eyes lovingly.

“Satisfied, sweetheart?” he asks with his cocky smile.

“Mhm,” you hum and snuggle against his chest, lying how you were before this had begun. You adjust the position of your head to get comfy with a cute smile on your face. “You didn’t really win though.”

“Oh, is that so?” he asks. He tilts your face up and guides you to look up at him.

“Well, in real wrestling you have to pin the person on their back. Their shoulders have to be down, y’know?” you say.

“That is true,” he says and rolls on top of you, looking at you with a loving smirk, “So I guess you’re ready for round two?”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #smut

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moonstruckme · 3 months

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could do poly!marauders with a clumsy s/o? Thank you!

Thanks for requesting love!

cw: blood

poly!marauders x fem!reader �� 1.4k words

“I’m going to purchase one of those leashes for unruly toddlers,” James says, thick lashes nearly touching as he squints down at your hand. “And I’m going to keep it around my wrist at all times.”

“It won’t be as good at catching me as you are,” you point out. You do your best not to wince as he picks a piece of gravel out of your palm, but his eyes flick up to you anyway, an apology in them.

“No, but at least I’ll be able to keep you close.”

You laugh a little. “I trip whether you’re nearby or not.”

“Beg to differ.” He sounds bitter, but James has always had a terrible poker face and the uptilt of his lips betrays him. He spreads ointment over the cuts on your hand before bandaging it. “If I was with you, this would’ve never happened. Guaranteed.”

“Yes, it’s all your fault.” Remus comes in from the kitchen, maneuvering carefully so as not to get the hot mug he’s carrying anywhere near James. He sets it next to your thigh on the bathroom counter. “Jamie,” his tone is chiding, a bit tired, “why have you started with her hands? She’s bleeding down to her ankles.”

“It’s nearly dried anyway,” you say, looking down at your shredded knees. Remus feels too bad for you to give you one of his worse reprimanding looks, but his eyes convey tremendous exasperation nonetheless.

“Because I knew she’d need her hands to hold her tea,” James replies, bumping Remus’ hip lightly with his. “Ease up, I’ve got it. Did you make yourself some tea too?”

Remus glances towards the kitchen the way an old captain might gaze at the sea. “I thought about it…”

“Do that,” James says. He finishes up with your other hand, bandaging it carefully. “Actually, would you mind just putting a kettle on? I’ll have a cup, and Sirius might want one too.”

You frown at that, but neither of your boyfriends see, Remus going into the kitchen with renewed purpose and James smiling slightly to himself as he finishes wrapping your hand.

“One of these days,” he whispers, backing up a bit so he can work on your knees, “you’re going to have to sit on the couch and feed Remus chocolates for all you put his heart through. We’ll be lucky if the next time you fall he doesn’t have an attack.”

“What’s Sirius coming here for?” you ask.

“Well, he does live here.”

You give him a look, but he doesn’t glance up from cleaning the blood off your shin. “He’s supposed to be shopping with Marlene.” Accusation and betrayal lines your words. “You texted him?”

James looks up at you now, sympathetic if not quite sorry. “You know I had to. He would’ve murdered me if he’d come home and seen you all bandaged up and nobody had told him.”

“You could take him,” you grumble.

He laughs. “I don’t know, sweetheart. He fights dirty.”

You laugh too, though it’s more a humorous huff. “He can’t come home every time I trip,” you say, twisting the string of your tea bag around your index finger. “It’s not like I need to go to the hospital.”

James works a larger piece of gravel out of your knee, eyebrows knit together by compassion. “He worries,” he says simply. “He wants to come home every time you hurt yourself, though if you recall, I didn’t tell anyone about you banging your head on the microwave door yesterday, or about when you fell on the stairs last week.” He looks up, grinning when you shrink, abashed. “But when you fall this bad, it’s a bit harder to hide. Sorry, lovie.”

It’s a double apology, for ratting you out and for the sting of the ointment he smears over your knee. You hiss through your teeth. “Fair enough,” you say. James smooths a large band-aid over the series of shallow cuts, kissing the skin just above it for good measure. “I just don’t like to worry him. Any of you, if I can help it.”

He shrugs. “I don’t think you can,” he says. You get what he means. Remus is a worrier, Sirius even more so, protective by nature and nurture. And each of your boyfriends cares about you too much to ignore how often you hurt yourself, even if you really think they should be desensitized to it and annoyed with you by now. “But I’m trying to get you cleaned up before he sees you, so hopefully that’ll help.”

Like James has just issued a summons, the rumble of Sirius’ bike comes from outside. James grimaces as it slows to a stop.

“I hate that fucking thing,” Remus growls from the kitchen.

James shoots a sad smile in that direction. You think that you might not single-handedly cause Remus’ heart attack if Sirius gets there first.

“Where is she?” Sirius calls as soon as he comes in the door. “I assume there’s a blood trail for me to follow?”

James chuckles. “I told you it wasn’t that grim,” he shouts down the hall, and a second later there are heavy footsteps coming toward you. You brace yourself.

“Fucking hell.” He halts just in the threshold of the bathroom, then seems to change his mind, striding over to you. His eyes are glued to the bloody mess of your uncovered knee. “Darling, what did you do?”

You knew what to expect from him, and still your voice comes out smaller than you mean it to. “I missed the curb going out to get the mail,” you say.

Sirius’ eyes lift to yours, widening. “You fell into the road?” You nod. “You could’ve been hit by a car!”

“There weren’t any cars.” There are almost never any cars on your street, and he knows that.

“You’re lucky there weren’t,” he says anyway, holding his hand out. You place one of yours in it obediently, palm up. There’s a bit of blood marring the beige bandage, and Sirius makes a terribly soft pitying sound. “Your poor, lovely hands.” He runs a careful finger over the covering. “How bad was it?” he asks James.

“I told you, not horrific,” James says, finishing with getting the debris out of your knee and twisting the cap off the ointment. He looks up to be sure you’re ready before he starts smoothing it on.

“Stitches?”

“Oh, tons. She’s held together more by thread than skin at this point.”

You roll your eyes, but Sirius coos, “My poor sweetheart,” and grabs hold of your face to plant a kiss on your lips. You must look as pleasantly surprised as you feel, because he does it again, bending forward to avoid bumping his hip into your knee.

His thumb sweeps across your cheek as he pulls away, brows furrowed. “Does it hurt?” he asks, and now the mirth has disappeared from his tone. You don’t know how Sirius does that, going from teasing to not in a blink.

“Not so badly,” you tell him.

He hums, stroking your face again. “Would you tell me if it did?”

You feel your lips twitch, and Sirius’ eyes narrow like he knows your answer before you’ve spoken. “Probably not,” you admit, “but it really doesn’t.”

He stares you down for a minute, murky eyes scanning yours for traces of untruth, his dark brows lowered. You reach up to slot a piece of hair behind his ear, and he cracks, mouth kicking up at the corner.

“Alright, drink your tea before it gets cold.”

“I’ve actually made tea for everyone,” Remus calls, not from the kitchen this time but from the living room. “And snacks, so please come eat them.”

James grins, touch moving up the back of your knee to your thigh as he stands. “Excellent,” he says eagerly. “You’re all fixed up, m’love. Let’s go take care of Rem now.”

You start to hop down from the counter, but Sirius says, “Wait, wait!” and grabs you by the hips, keeping you in place. “Can you walk?”

You nod, because duh, your legs are scraped, not broken, but Sirius looks to James, the both of them frowning thoughtfully.

“Best not to risk reopening them,” James decides, scooping you up off the counter.

You huff a laugh, rolling your eyes. “Thank you,” you say, rather than this is deeply unnecessary and you’re being ridiculous. James seems to hear both anyway, planting a sloppy, smiley kiss on your cheek. Sirius, satisfied, follows you down the hall. “I didn’t mean to make you my manservant, I swear.”

“Happy to do it,” he says. “Now drink your tea, it’ll make Rem feel better.”

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chikaras-garden · 1 year

Text

Aftercare

Sometimes, when smut gets intense, we need a reminder that we’re still safe and loved. Read this if you need a safe space after heavy smut with your F/O.

Pairing: your fave x fem!reader

Words: 1.1k

Contains: unnamed male!F/O, implied sub!reader, mentions of overstim and rough sex, aftercare, cuddles, sweet nothings, praise, doting, mushy relationship stuff, F/O calls R “sweetheart,” “honey,” “baby girl,” and “good girl,” your F/O is called “partner” so you can decide if it’s husband/boyfriend/etc.

Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked. Feel free to tell me who you imagine while you’re reading ❤️

You’re sticky, hot with sweat, and your lungs struggle to fill with air. Your eyes squeeze shut as you wriggle against the bedsheets, trying to find comfort through the thick of your own overstimulated arousal. Though your body feels numb, you’re aware of a dull ache in the back of your mind, but you can’t tell if it’s mental, physical, or both. All you know is that you just spent what felt like hours at his mercy, and that turned you into a weeping mess with a throbbing core and limbs too heavy to move.

There’s a soft sound that echoes around the room, circling you; it’s a shush, a hum, a coo that sounds an awful lot like your name said in your favorite person’s voice. You sense him before you really feel him; it takes your brain a few seconds to realize that he’s leaning over you, hands caressing up and down your sides, and speaking to you in a soft voice, using words you can’t understand.

He takes your hands with the gentlest of fingers, nuzzles each of your palms, and presses a tender kiss to each wrist. The feeling lingers like a slow-moving cloud on a summer’s day, and the tightness in your chest loosens at the sensation. You take deep breaths in—one, two, three—and fill your lungs with warm, light air.

When you open your eyes, he’s smiling at you. “Hi, sweetheart. Feelin’ okay?”

“Mn,” you half-moan, half-grunt. Though your bones ache and your skin is sore, you gather all of your remaining strength to reach for his shoulders, to hoist yourself up to latch onto him and never let go. All you can think about is how you need him, the touch of his skin, the whisper of his praise. But, he sways out of your grasp.

“Uh-uh,” he tuts, grinning. “Water first.”

Biting your lip to hold back your pout, you think of phrases spoken in his domineering timbre: ‘be good for me,’ ‘tell me—tell me what you want,’ ‘good girls do as they’re told.’

Looking away, you mumble. “I need you.”

He cups your face with one hand, tilting your chin so he can see you. You can’t—don’t want to—resist, so you feel the weight of his eyes locked on yours while he reaches behind him, toward the bedside table. “You’ve got me, honey; I’m not going anywhere. ‘M right here. We’re all done. You’re safe.”

The cool glass of your water bottle meets your palms. It’s uncapped already, and you feel his hand resting on the small of your back. His fingers work into each muscle, and you only now realize how tense your posture is.

“Need my help?” His doting eyes watching you with a worry that’s so ‘him,’ your heart flutters back to life. You shake your head, and he acquiesces; instead, he occupies himself with pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses to your bare shoulders.

It takes a moment for you to raise the bottle and drink. You close your eyes while a slow stream of water flows down your throat. Like the leaves of a dormant plant, you unfurl as water reaches through you. Life returns to your arms, your legs, your fingers, your toes. Even in your mind, the fog of your just-finished session begins to part, and the afterglow of your partner’s love for you is what shines through.

You take another deep breath while you lower the water bottle to your lap. Weighing the half-full container between your hands, you notice the tremble in your lip and a persistent ache in your wrists and shoulders, a chill in your bones that just now registers.

There’s a blanket waiting for you, warm from his body and smelling like his shampoo. Strong arms reach behind you, wrapping it around your shoulders like a cape. He joins its ends under your chin, smooths his fingers over the marks a different version of himself left behind on your neck.

Compared to you, he has a significant lack of coverage. Bare-chested and wearing only a pair of quickly-donned boxers, you realize he must be cold, too. “You—”

He cuts you off with an over-pronounced smooch to your cheek. “Don’t worry about me for now, ‘kay? I wanna get you cozy first.”

You give him an uncertain look, to which he just chuckles. It’s a quiet noise, like the purr of a cat; then, he leans close, resting his forehead lightly against yours. “Taking care of you makes me feel better.”

“Love you,” you murmur in response.

A sound that lives at the intersection of a shuddering breath and a delighted laugh leaves his mouth while he wraps his arms around your waist. He leans, shifting onto his hip, and tugs you effortlessly into his lap. “You did so good for me, honey. You’re the best girl, my perfect sweetheart, doing everything I asked and more. Where’d I find someone like you?”

You muster the energy for a dreamy half-smile. “I found you, remember?”

His next words flow out of his mouth without hesitation, as if he isn’t in control of them at all. “You saved me, baby girl.”

“From yourself?” You grin. “I think I’ve heard this one.”

Then, you wind your blanket-wrapped arms around his chest and nuzzle into his shoulder. It’s his turn to let out a dreamy sigh; leaning back against the headboard, he plucks your water bottle from you and takes a sip, beginning the ritual of taking care of himself, now that he’s certain you’re safe, drifting peacefully through the warmth of your bond.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers. “Such a beautiful, perfect thing.”

“‘M yours,” you counter amidst peppering baby kisses along his jaw.

He swallows under your lips, and his hand finds your hip to squeeze. “No, sweetheart; you’re your own. You’re just sharing yourself with me, trusting me, and I…” He gives you a serious look. “Thank you, for that.”

So gently that you barely feel him, he taps the underside of your chin, guiding you upward to kiss him. His mouth is open, but not wanting; with how slowly his lips move, it’s almost like he’s baring his belly to you, showing you where he’s most vulnerable as his way of reciprocating what you just did for him.

“Love you,” you repeat in a whisper.

“Love you,” comes his echo.

Somewhere outside of this room, in a bathroom that’s just a few steps and too far away all at once, there’s a scented bath and silky lotion waiting for you—both of you. But that’s just the thing; it’s waiting, and it can wait a little longer, because all you need for now is to remain here, at peace and entangled with the man who loves you like no one else can.

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ohthewh0rror · 6 months

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WE ABOUT TO KISS RIGHT NOW?

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — Just some tidbits of fluff for whichever slytherin boy you pick. You’ve got three choices: Mattheo (the childish one), Tom (who has never felt the touch of a woman), or maybe Theo (resident lover boy).

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader / Mattheo x Reader / Theo x Reader

Word Count: 848

Tom R.

Truthfully, the sight was mildly unsettling. Tom was a very composed individual, never a hair out of place and always impeccably dressed. So seeing him now, as he sat in the furthest corner of the shop where he worked, his elbows resting on his knees as he rested his head in his hands was…concerning. His slender, pale fingers slid up to his dark curls and gripped his hair at the root.

Tom, who seemed untouchable and almost god-like, suddenly looked human. It was the first time you had ever seen Tom display a genuine emotion, his usual facade slipping away. You weren’t sure what to do, as your friendship was fairly new. You weren’t sure how he was going to respond to your attempt at comforting him, but you figured that as long as you left here in one piece, you’d count it as a win.

You placed a gentle hand on his knee, and took in a breath to steady your nerves before you decided to speak. “We don’t have to talk, I just wanted to let you know that I’m here…in case you do want to.” It was another few seconds of silence before Tom sat up and one of the hands that was once holding his head up came to rest on top of your’s. As his fingers curled around your hand, you saw the ghost of a smile on his face, and a look of mild appreciation in his eyes.

Bringing your hand up to his lips, he placed a loving kiss on your palm, before getting out of his seat without a word, leaving you awestruck in the back of the desolate store.

Mattheo R.

"Hey, there's something on your lips?" Mattheo gestured to your mouth, there was a smirk on his face, the same one he gets when he’s trying to mess with you. You were skeptical, not knowing if you should trust him, but you didn’t want to continue walking around with something on your lips either just in case he was being honest. “Really?” Your hand came up, fingers about to swipe whatever was there off, when Mattheo caught your wrist. “What are you—” your question was cut off as Mattheo’s lips connected with yours.

The kiss was short and sweet, almost a peck, leaving you secretly wanting more from him. Mattheo pulled away slightly, eyeing your lips, “I think it’s still there,” he mumbled. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you, feeling your face grow hot. You playfully shoved him away from you, trying to put some space between you in hopes of gathering what little self control you had in you to resist the urge to kiss him again.

“I can't stand you,” was all you said as you attempted to get away from the flirt you called your boyfriend.

Theo N.

“Would it be weird if I kissed you? be honest,” was what Theo greeted you with as he came to stand next to you, a warm hand resting on your back. Though you tried to put on an annoyed front, you were glad he decided to come keep you company; even if it was to tease you. Everyone knew the crush you’ve had on him since 5th year, you were sure even Theo has figured it out by now. And, to be honest, it was almost embarrassing. You’d hoped after graduation your feelings would fade, as you’d see less of him, but the distance seems to have only made it worse.

“Honestly? yes,” it almost killed you to say that, but it was the truth. The two of you hadn’t seen each other in two months and you were also currently attending a charity gala. A kiss between two people who were not together, standing in the middle of an important event, would be all anyone talked about for the next few weeks. There was a pregnant pause, neither of you saying anything, Theo seemingly lost in thought as he stared at you.

“Hey, Y/N?” You heard Theo ask, trying to get your attention as you had looked away from him, trying to distract yourself from the pounding of your heart. You hummed in acknowledgement, and when Theo said nothing, you turned your head to look at him. Well, that was the plan anyway, but as you turned your head to face him Theo met you halfway.

You weren't sure what you thought your first kiss with Theo would be like, but even you could have never guessed it’d be so passionate. In the distance you could hear the flashing of a camera and rabid whispering, but you could care less.

You’ve been waiting for the moment for years, and you refuse to let anything ruin it.

#tom riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #theo nott #theo nott imagine #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle

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leonstoenailunderhisbed · 6 days

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Leon’s the type of guy…

Leon’s the type of guy to have hair ties in case you need one

“Ugh, my hair’s in the way,” you’d say. Leon would then pull a hair tie from his wrist and give it to you, “Here.”

Leon’s the type of guy that would carry your bags for you when you two go out shopping

“Y/n, is all of this necessary? I mean, you already have a lot of clothes,” he says as his knuckles turn white from holding your bags. You pulled him to another store, “You don’t understand the drip.”

Leon’s the type of guy who would wake up scared from the lightning of a thunderstorm because it reminded him of his battles and fights.

Leon woke up sweaty and panting after a loud lightning strike echoed through the room. He face dripped with sweat and you stirred awake, “Leon?” You whispered with a sleepy tone. Leon would then turn to you and shush you back to sleep, “It’s nothing, baby, go back to sleep,” he’d whisper but you were already waking up anyway. Your hand reached over to Leon’s back and you gently massaged his tense muscles. There was a moment of silence before he eventually spoke up in a scared tone, “I thought I was back out there,” he whispered. He looked at you with tired eyes and spoke with a trembling tone, “I can’t keep living like this,” your eyes grew sad at his words and you quickly embraced him in a tight, comforting hug.

Leon’s the type guy who’d buy you something because it reminded him of you.

“Hey, I got you this. It reminded me of you,” he says as he handed you a strawberry squishmellow. You raised a brow and took it, “I remind you of a strawberry?” He grinned and nodded, “Because you get red after we kiss.”

Leon’s the type of guy who would say no to going out but when you drag him somewhere, he feels so giddy inside

“No. I don’t want to go,” he says with a frown. “Oh come on, please?” You fluttered your eyelashes at him. Leon sighs begrudgingly and lets you take him somewhere. But when you basically kept dragging him around the festival market, he has to bite down his smile tugging at his lips. He wouldn’t admit it, but Leon likes how assertive you are when it comes to going out.

Leon’s the type of guy who would not trust you with the stove after you burnt yourself boiling water

“How the fuck did you even managed to hurt yourself?” He asks as he rubs burning cream on your palm. You shrugged and spoke nonchalantly, “I dunno.” Leon looked at you mildly surprised and also worried, “How are you still alive?”

Leon’s the type of guy that definitely sleeps on his stomach. The man practically takes up the whole space too. He’d have his hands under his pillow as his legs basically occupied your side of the bed. He would also accidentally kick you.

You were so close to falling off the edge of the bed because of Leon’s sleeping position. You grumbled bitterly as you basically pushed him closer to his side but he didn’t budge. That man was heavy, especially since he’s so deep into his sleep that his body basically mushed down.

Leon’s the type of guy that definitely felt like he was better than the military guys back in Fort Hood or Fort whatever. He wouldn’t participate physically but emotionally he would think that the base he trained in was better than the other places.

As Leon stood straight along the other men during their training session. He felt a surge of pride in himself when he overheard some guys talking about another base basically being known as the pussies of the military world. The end of his lips would curve up very slightly. But soon everything died down as the sergeant began to yell for formation.

Leon’s the type of guy that unironically would participate in a Uno or Bingo game. He’s strategic, he’d definitely win a few Uno rounds- even against you.

“Uno out,” he called out as he placed the last card. Your eyes widened and you scoffed in disbelief, “What!? That’s so not fair!” Leon chuckled and leaned back against his chair with a smug smirk, “Can’t outdo me, sweetheart. This brain’s too smart,” he tapped his finger against his skull. Leon, being the asshole that he could be sometimes, stacked two +4 on you and won. You gave him the side-eye and put the cards together for another round.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #id leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #di leon #re2 leon #leon #leon kennedy headcanons #re4 leon #re4r leon #re2r leon #death island leon

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bruisedboys · 6 months

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shy!reader who’s always a little anxious and hesitant to show affection but one day initiates by asking remus if he wants a kiss and he’s all giddy but she meant a chocolate kiss and she gets red and blushy

eek thank you so much this is so so cute! sorry it took me so long angel. hope u enjoy 💗

remus lupin x fem!reader modern au

You tip your gift bag upside down over the coffee table, colourful foil-wrapped chocolates spilling out across the wooden surface. Your boss at work had a bunch of sweets left over from her kid’s birthday party and had opted to give them all out to her colleagues. Lucky you, you’re one of her favourites. You’re pretty sure your bag was stuffed full the most.

You dig through your goods, sorting them into piles of different flavours and types, and then your favourites and Remus’ favourites. Speaking of, your boyfriend sits across from you on the one-seater couch, immersed in his writing. The laptop screen paints him paler than usual but no less handsome. You know you’ve struck lucky with him and just looking at him from across the room makes your heart race. You like him so much it’s sick.

You pick through the pile of chocolates deemed Remus’ favourites. There’s lots of dark chocolate, a few nutty bars and multiple Hershey’s kisses.

Without thinking (well, you are thinking, but just about how much you like Remus and want to give him something he’ll love), you speak up into the silence.

“Remus? Do you want a kiss?”

To your credit, you are holding up a silver-wrapped Hershey’s kiss in your hand. To Remus’ credit, he doesn’t see it until his head has snapped up so fast you’re worried he’s cracked his neck, eyes wide and lips parted.

“What?” He asks.

You realise your mistake almost immediately. Heat flares behind your cheeks.

“A Hershey’s,” you correct yourself, embarrassed beyond measure. You hold it up for him to see. “A Hershey’s kiss.”

Remus’ eyebrows lower significantly and his wide eyes soften.

“Oh,” he says softly. “Yeah, okay.” He smiles at you and you miss the mischief, too flustered from your slip up. “Bring it over here for me?”

You’re happy to. You get out of your seat, grabbing an extra couple of Hershey’s for good measure. You stop in front of his knees and hold the chocolates out to him.

He smiles and takes them from you, calloused fingers brushing your soft palm. “Thank you, lovely girl,” he says, lifting his chin so he can look you in the eyes.

You smile back. “That’s okay,” you say, moving to return to your seat. Remus doesn’t let you. He leans over his laptop, the screen digging into his chest, and bracelets your wrist with his lean fingers.

“Hold on,” he says, and now you pick up on the mischief in his tone, now that he’s got you trapped. He pulls you in between his legs and you know you’re not getting away until he lets you. “I’d like a real kiss too, if that’s okay.”

Heat blooms all over your face, creeping up your neck like a rash. “Remus,” you say, in what’s supposed to be a complaining tone but instead makes you sound like you’re a lovesick fool. You are, but. He doesn’t need to know that.

“What?” He grins. “I’m serious, dove. Please?”

It’s his please that gets you. You would’ve given him one anyway, but when he’s practically begging you, you’d rather die than not kiss him.

“Fine,” you say, more breathless than you’d like to be.

You lean over him and kiss him quick and sweet, trying not to linger though you desperately want to. Remus has other ideas. His hand curls around your neck, warm and heavy, and holds you against his mouth while he kisses you properly. Your lips part from the pressure, Remus’ thumb pushing into the hair at the back of your neck.

You’re barely breathing by the time you pull away. Cheeks hot, heart hammering. Remus smiles at you, looking not nearly as disheveled as you feel. Unfair.

“Thanks,” he tells you. “If you’ve got any more to give me, let me know.”

You both know he doesn’t mean chocolates.

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sahkuna · 11 days

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needed to write a drabble about sukuna being that hot older brother you always look forward to seeing at your best friend’s (yuuji) house... eee!

UPDATE: there’s a FOLLOW UP to this drabble

content warning: f! reader, smut, childhood "friends" with benefits, best friend's brother trope! oh and modern au:]

he’s only a couple years older than you, (by three years, if you want to be exact) and you’ve been acquainted with itadori yuuji's older brother— sukuna— multiple times.

whether it was through seeing him over at the itadori household during high school or being invited out by yuuji to sukuna’s new place a couple years after college— sukuna had always been a lingering presence in your life.

your relationship hadn’t been anything more than exchanging brief pleasantries whenever needed. until things start growing more suggestive as the two of you grew older.

it wasn't planned. the kissing, the meet-ups late at night, him deliberately lingering around when everyone else seems to have left the room. there were too many incidents to recall.

but one thing lead to the next and...

the slapping of skin on skin can be heard throughout his apartment, echoing against the walls of the vacant hallway that leads towards the doorway of sukuna's apartment.

tucked away behind his bedroom door, is quite an obscene scene. with your chest pressed against his mattress and face covered deep into his pillows, there's only so much left for you to do as you stick your ass up to receive the rough pounding from sukuna's thick cock.

the coherent sentences you used to form a few moments prior have slowly turned into a series of whimpers and broken moans all while sukuna has a tight grip on your waist pulling your ass flush against his hips so he can bury himself deep into your sweet cunt— unprotected.

you forgot how this came to be, of who convinced who to dip their toes into the world of sex with each other but you're damn glad that it happened.

"oh god," you blurt out between cries. sukuna's left hand drags down away from your waist, and finds its way toward your clit. "ah—! please, don't stop! that's… so good, so goo—ah!" you just about lose your mind when his fingers tease your sensitive clit in slow, torturous circles.

there's a mean, wicked smile tugging at the corner of sukuna's lips. his brows rise in amusement at how quick you are to fall apart in his hands— quite literally at that, too. "think you can hurry up and finish before your friend comes back?" sukuna asks, tone unwavering despite how his hips thrust into you repeatedly.

ah. your friend. his brother. the fact that he doesn't even bother to address him by name and does it dismissively would have you chiding him to be nice— but you're too far gone to digest what he said.

between the touching and the fullness of his dick pressing and rubbing against the walls of your pussy, you squeeze your eyes shut and wail. "please, please— i think i'm—!" your hand shoots down to hold onto his wrist. but you don't pull it away from you, despite how overstimulated you feel. "shit!"

when sukuna pulls out briefly to rub the head of his cock against your slit, you whine at the loss of him. with shaky hands you press your palms against his mattress, and make a weak attempt to change positions onto your back.

"please, put it back in!" he's definitely gonna make fun of you for begging later. but perhaps a higher power decided to have mercy on you— just this once— because sukuna's back between your thighs and stretching your hole.

fuck him, fuck him, fuck him and his stupid, girthy cock. and the smug ass expression he's probably got on his face right now.

despite that all, you wanted to kiss him. just the thought of it was—

the harsh sound of a fist pounding at his front door tears you from your thoughts. you're about to question who it is until you hear a voice from the other side that you know all too well.

"answer your phone, sukuna!" wait, why's yuuji here? "if you're gonna invite me to your place, at least do it when you don't have some girl over!"

"are you crazy?!" your voice is sharp, incredulity seeps through your tone.

with his dick still submerged in you and his hips rolling at a languid pace tacked with the sound of the gentle plap-ing of his skin against yours, — as if his fucking brother wasn't technically right the fuck there— he offers you a mere shrug. "forgot i invited him over."

and fuck him for being your best friend's older brother.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #jjk x reader #sukuna smut #jjk smut #bfb sukuna #hopefully this shows <333 #TUMBLR STOP HIDING MY STUFF

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