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#on top of the other thing making me want to tear my hair out
ysrjune · 6 hours
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(i feel like i need to let you guys know that I HAVE to listen to the song on repeat 4 a few times to really get me going for this fic 😔)
also i know the ending kinda sucks Im SORRY
Into You ✦
Sam had texted you to dress nicely since he was taking you to a nice restaurant. It's so sweet of him to do this even though you forced him out of your life for 6 years.
Luckily, you had packed a few nice dresses in case something special came up. This was definitely something special. The color of the dress was plain but had a cute pattern all over it. You did your hair in whatever way you thought looked the best and added a few other details like rings, earrings, and a necklace after finishing your makeup.
To top it all off, you sprayed your favorite perfume, and you were done getting ready. You had a couple of minutes to wait until Sam came by to pick you up. You spent that short amount of time talking pictures and becoming a little nervous about how this is gonna go.
Your mom came knocking at your door, smiling. “He’s here,” She entered, admiring how beautiful her little girl looked. “You look so gorgeous, my love.” A tear nearly fell from her eye. You smile softly to her and give her a gentle hug. “Thank you, mom. I'll see you later.”
You went outside to find Sam with a bouquet of flowers. “Looks like someone really outdid herself on the whole look, huh?” He huffed a chuckle, totally checking you out. “You're the one who told me to dress nice.” You say with a twirl while walking over to him so he could see the whole outfit.
“Well, you listened.” Sam smiled down at you and passed over the flowers. “Oh, Sam. I love th—”, “ah-ah. they're for your mom.” He cut you off, making you look to the side, then back to him with confusion. “Um, what?” You asked before he shook his head with a laugh. “Just messin’ with you, n/n.” Oh, so you leave for a few years and all of a sudden he thinks hes a comedian..
“Come on, let's go.” He reached his arm around you, leading to his car. This is so weird.. Sam has never been the type to be so touchy, talkative, or confident. He really was like a new person.
The car ride was anything but quiet and awkward. He started all the conversations, as well as kept them going. “A year after you left, I realized how big of a loser I was. Weird, too.” He cringed at the memory of how he used to be. “I was so pale, too. I genuinely looked so unwell. So, I decided to go out more to get tanned.”
He had worked in construction for a while so he could have more color to his skin, and it worked really well. He also told you about how he started working out to not be scrawny. The brown hair with blondish tints was actually because he didn't like the black and blue anymore. Eye makeup? How child like.
Listening to the reasons why he changed was different than you expected. Way different.
Dinner went well. You told him about your studies and life after graduating. Sam made sure to pay attention at all times. You also learned that your cousin wasn't lying about so many girls liking him. “I went out with a few, had sex with one, and regretted it. They didn't like me for who I am. They just liked me cause I stopped being so emo.” He laughed at it.
“Did you like them for who they were?” He rolled his eyes at your question. “Well, duh. I don't go out with girls just cause they're cute. All those girls I dated, I got to really know before, and it's not like I went out with all the ones who wanted me.” He sips his drink, “Some of them were skanks, and I didn't wanna catch anything. And some of them were just.. not good at all, yknow? Cant believe some girls think being rude is flirting.”
“Did you start looking more for personality than looks after Alyssa?” You crack a joke, hoping that he doesn't take it the wrong way. “Yep. Most definitely.” He replied with that charming smile.
Dinner was mostly catching up. After paying, he took you to his house. Lets just say one thing led to another, and you were arguing about how you just up and left like that.
“You promised! You promised that you'd call and visit, but you lied! If you wanted me to disappear from your life, you could have fucking said that!” He sort of shouted. “Sam, I didn't want to erase you from my life. I just wanted to live a little!”
“That doesn't make any sense. You probably just didn't care about me anymore after meeting new people. Look, its fucked up, but you can say it if you want. After all, it shouldn't matter anymore cause you're here now, right?” He says sarcastically.
“I waited for you to call me for 6 years! almost a whols decade, y/n!” He crossed his arms. “I don't know if it ever occurred to you that the phone works both ways, Sam.” You yell at him.
“No, dont pull that shit on me because I did call. I tried, but you know what? You changed your god damn number.” He sounded so mad and frustrated. “Do not play with me right now. Just say it already.”
“Okay! I stopped caring! Im sorry, Sam. That was stupid of me. I was like, your only friend. I know!” You replied and put yourself on his arms for a hug. As much as he wanted to push away, he wasnt like that. At least he wasn't gonna be like that after you apologized.
he sighed, arms wrapping around you and chin resting on your shoulder. “I know you're sorry. At least you're here now.” His big hands slide up and down your back. “Missed you so much.”
You sniffled into his chest and mumbled out the same. “Let me tell you something.” He says and sits you on the couch. “If I wasn't in love with you, I wouldn't have cared thaf you left. I was so used to people leaving already, so it wouldn't have mattered. but you had me so head over heels. that's the biggest reason I was mad.”
You sort of knew he had a little crush on you, but in love? “You're lying.” He shook his head. “Why would I lie?” Fuck, thats true. “To get back at me, maybe.” You sigh. “Sam, im gonna be honest, I never had a whole crush on you, but I did think about us being a couple sometimes. When you were with Alyssa, I was thinking about how I could treat you so much better.”
“Then why didn't you? I would have said yes. Didn't you realize how often I'd rather spend time with you than her? I wanted it to be you.” He spoke softly, tangling yours and his fingers together. “I've never gotten over you. I look for you in every girl I go out with. Whether it's personality or if she has the slightest resemblance..”
Okay, Sam.. what the fuck. but also, aw! “That's.. kind of weird, but sweet in a way.” You say with a giggle. “Yeah, I guess.” Sam shrugged, accidentally looking down at your boobs. “Um, sorry.” He looked away and blushed.
No matter how much he changed, he was never gonna fully get rid of that shy guy in him. “It's okay.” You laughed at him and decided to stroke his cheek with your hand. “You've always been so cute when you blush.”
“Yeah, okay.” He says in a deepened, sarcastic voice and rolls his eyes. “Its just. blushing. Nothing about that should be amusing.” , “But it is!” Your hand went to mess with his curly hair.
“You look really good with long hair, too.” You keep complimenting him on his appearance until he rushed in for a kiss. His hands went to your hips, rubbing up and down until they got a little more nosy and rubbed your thighs, making you shiver.
“Sam, what are you doing..” You mumbled against his lips. “I couldn't hold back anymore. I needed to do something.” He mumbled back and pecked your lips one more time before shifting to your neck. “Sam, what if someone sees—” That made him smile against you. “Silly, no one's gonna see. I live alone.”
One thing led to another, and now he had two fingers in you on his bed. So much happened too fast. You couldn't remember what even led to this. “Sam, faster, please.” You whimper, holding onto his forearm. “Why, you don't like me going slow? Don't like when I'm being nice?” He whispered into your ear, speeding up the pace just a little bit.
“No, I—,” What were you supposed to say? You were already at a loss of words, getting so stimulated by his long fingers. “Can't say anything else, baby?” He smirked and shook his head. “It's okay. Just let me make you feel good.” He removed his fingers and put them on his mouth, sucking off all the cum you left.
He let his cock free from his boxers and slid it on between your folds, causing a moan to leave your mouth. “You like that?” He questioned, not expecting you to react like that. You nod your head at Sam, letting your hand find its way to his cock and inserting it into you for him.
Sam let a breathy moan escape him as you did this. “Shit, you couldn't wait?” He grips your hips, swallowing. “So tight. It's better than I ever imagined.” He groaned, moving in and out slowly. “Can I go faster, please? pleasepleaseplease.” Every plead was said with every thrust.
You nod your head, keeping your eyes on his face. He looked so good in the dim light. All sweaty, eyebrows knitted together. “Sam, ‘m gonna cum.” you scratch at his back. “yeah? so do it then. cum all over my cock, s’okay, pretty.” his cock went deeper inside you.
just a couple more thursts, and it was over for you. He edged himself for a little while so he could make you finish 2 more times before he slid in between your folds and came all over them. the way he would only whimper when be was close was so cute.
He stayed lying on your chest for a short while as you twirled his locks in your fingers. “Please dont leave. I can't lose you again.” Was he asking you to move all the way back here again? The first thought that came to your mind was yes, but then you went deeper into thought, thinking about your friends back over where you lived now.
“I'll..” You pause, looking at him. Look at you with his pretty eyes. “stay.”
Great.
Timeskipping to a year later, he asked you to be his official girlfriend and to move in with him. And of course you said yes! Life with Sam Monroe is perfect. Hes so sweet and gentle all the time, even when hes upset. Hes all you could ever ask for in a boyfriend.
tags: @heartsforanakin @sockiess @radiantvader @anakinstwinklebunny @lunalitva @lvrfay3 @froggyfrip @geckoomoria @espinathena-17 @demieyesore @your-arm-is-minty-fresh @gallerygourmet @haydensprettyprincess 🎀
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csmtmra · 1 day
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carve me to make me yours
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character: keigo takami warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, dacryphillia, toxic yandere relationship, branding, blood, blood drinking, jealousy words: 1.1K
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he had always liked to show off what was his. keeping an arm around you anytime you went out. always showing up next to you when you were with friends. he liked making it known you were his.
he had made it known you were his and only his. so why are you laughing with friends and ignoring his calls?
at first he was just going to show up and make sure you were okay, but when he saw a boy draped over your shoulder, pointing to things on your phone, a little too close for comfort, he walked over and pulled you aside. “why the hell were you not answering me??” he’d be looking around pulling you further into town and further away from your friends while he asked the question. “were you texting? i’ve had my phone on do not disturb all morning..” you’d breathe out pulling your phone out and checking the messages you’ve missed from him. “we’re going home.” he said not paying you much mind as he dragged you to his apartment. ignoring all of your questions of ‘what’s wrong’ and if he was ‘okay’.
pulling you through the door of his apartment, he mumbles out words you don’t catch while shaking his head, and locks it. “keigo what is going on?” you ask starting to get upset, giving him a slight glare and frown.
“who was that boy. why was he all over my girlfriend??”he’d ask giving a slight snarl back and breathing heavily out through his nose. “who, shun? he meant no harm, i don’t even think he knew i had a boyfriend. we just met him..” you would say watching as he narrows his eyes before grabbing your arm and pulling towards his room with him. “it’s time everyone knows then.”
pushing open his door, he walks you to his bed before pushing you lightly onto it and unbuckling his belt, grabbing both of your arms and tying them to the top of it. tears are starting to well up in your eyes as you ask him what he’s doing.
“well if there’s nothing on you that will let people know you have a loving boyfriend, then i’ll have to make one.” keigo would say while taking his shirt off and throwing it across the room, moving his hands to the top of yours before ripping it and pushing it away from your skin, moving the remnants of it to the floor and plucking one of his beautiful red feathers.
he lays down with his chest in between your legs and his chin resting on your rib cage. elbows propping him up slightly as you stare in horror and intrigue of what he’s about to do next, tears falling from your eyes, down your cheeks and causing your lip quiver. he uses one of his hands to cup your cheek and brush the tears falling away with his thumb.
“don’t worry sweetheart i’m going to make it so, so pretty” he’d say, holding down your body with his own, whispering a soft little “it’s going to be so beautiful” as he carves the sharp part of the feather into your skin. your cries only more encouragement for him to move onto the next letter. only taking short breaks to wipe tears from your cheeks and pressing kisses to your bloody skin.
“everyone will know..” he says, glancing up at your eyes as more tears start to fall out of them. “no more..” you cry out, trying to get your hands freed so you can get out of his grasp. “stop struggling. you don’t want me to accidentally make a bigger cut do you?” keigo draws the feather closer to your heart, not putting enough pressure to cut the skin but enough to let you know he’s serious.
“behave.” his voice is stern, moving his hand back to your shoulder to finish the last letters, he takes his other hand and pushes his hair out of his face, letting a breath out and tilting his head. “perfect.” he mutters, lowering his face closer to the new wound on your shoulder before slowly licking the blood away.
soft moans would leave his lips as whimpers and cries would pass yours. he would bring his tongue out to lick the blood that started seeping past your skin again, leaving his lips a cherry red. moving his hands, he would put one on your hip and the other on your thigh, pulling it up next to him and scooting closer into your body. “you know i had to do this..right?” pressing kisses to your chest and leaving bruises on your skin, he would mutter a “please forgive me….you will won’t you?”
“won’t you.” he would say again, not questioning this time though. bringing his face close to yours, you nod your head, not being able to muster words back to him. he would let a small smile grace his face and bring his lips to yours.
you can taste the remnants of your blood on his lips and tongue, making you push your mouth on to his more roughly, trying to taste more of him.
you wanted to taste his very essence. you wanted to have his blood on your lips, mixing together with your own into a twisted concoction of desire and need.
pulling your lips a centimeter away from his, you bite his bottom lip, making the red substance spill into both of your mouths and resulting in a hiss from him.
“be nice.”he says before interlocking your lips together again for a quick second before pulling away and moving his lips to the cut again. you start to pull on the belt that was keeping your arms above your head and whine. “keigo..”
“oh here sweetheart..” he says with a hushed voice, while pushing himself up to untie your hands. once freed, they immediately shoot towards his neck, pulling him down to your face again and finding his lips once again.
keigos hand fumbles with something on the nightstand while his mouth is locked to yours, before pulling the object towards him and pulling back from you. it was a polaroid camera. “i want you to see my work” he mutters as he gets up slightly, both knees on either side of you, and bringing the camera to his face to look into it. the bright flash as he takes the camera makes you flinch.
grabbing the picture out of the slot, he shakes it a bit to help the photo develop faster before looking at it and smiling a cruel twisted smile before giving it to you. “look doll….maybe we can do your name on me now..” he said, grabbing the same feather with your now drying blood on the end of it, he lays next to you, taking the polaroid and placing it on his nightstand, and moving you on top of him while handing you the feather. “make it pretty baby.”
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prostolita · 3 days
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Sweet and dark
Kevin/Jean won the poll. It came out a little short and blurry, but considering my mood today, it's fine.
[Summary: Kevin is a professional athlete, and Jean is his manager. They had just moved in together and Jean decided to cook breakfast for them.
P.S. Kevin is taking care of Jean. ]
Kevin gently squeezes his hands and strokes his icy knuckles with his thumb. Jean winces at the awkwardness and silence that hangs between them.
Kevin is wearing a gray oversized T-shirt and black shorts, his hair is tousled, and his face is still swollen from sleep. They are standing near the stove, where the water is still boiling in the pot. Kevin gives him a stern look and reaches for the temperature switch. The stove turns off. Dan rolls his eyes in displeasure, but one of his hands is still in Day's palm.
— You shouldn't have done it alone. 
Kevin pulls Jean towards him. His velvety voice caresses the ear, and Moreau succumbs to this temptation.
— It's not that bad, it's okay. 
Jean is moving, but Kevin catches his movements and holds him in one place.
Jean's hands are pale, but the places where the hot water got into are red. Kevin touches the burns, and Jean flinches slightly. They go to the medicine cabinet, Moreau frowns as Kevin takes out the ointment for burns. He's not used to it, he's not ready. His hands are shaking, either from pain or excitement. Jean sits straight, not moving. He looks at Kevin, who is standing unusually close.
Jean is his manager, they have known each other for many years. However, now he's also Kevin's boyfriend. Now they live together.
— Next time, wake me up, I'll help.
— I can make breakfast myself.
Jean gets angry and mutters French obscenities under his breath.
— I'm not saying you're helpless, I just want to be there for you. I want to spend this morning with you.
For Jean, who had been used for most of his life, these words were unusual. He didn't know what caring was, he didn't know what it was like to live and not think you were a thing. Kevin clings to Jean's arms. He gently kisses his knuckles and hides his face in the Frenchman's hands.
— I'm here for you.
Jean looks into his emerald eyes. He swallows all his inner resentments and shoves them as deep as possible. He was tired of Kevin taking care of him. He thinks he doesn't deserve it.
- I know.
Jean answers in a hoarse voice, turning his face away. He knows that if he looks too long into the green abyss of other people's eyes, he will soon drown. - I know.  — He repeats again.
Kevin gets up and sits down next to Jean. This time his hands are clutching the Frenchman's cheeks. Jean is his personal gray-eyed savior, and Kevin wishes him well. He leans forward and leaves a light kiss on Moreau's forehead.
—I shouldn't have left you there.
Kevin says it softly, but he knows Jean can hear him. — I should have taken you with me."
The Frenchman's voice is trembling, and his eyes are still wet with salt.
He berates himself for his weakness and snuggles up to Kevin, just like in the good old days. He is looking for support and is afraid that nk will get it.
Kevin puts his arm around Jean's shoulders and rests his chin on top of his head.
— You shouldn't have gone through all this. I'm sorry.
- I know.
Jean whispers back again. — I've forgiven you.
— No, you don't have to. Don't say goodbye.
Kevin is shaking. Guilt overwhelms him in a huge wave. — I should have stayed with you.
He is rudely interrupted. Jean pushes him away and puts her hands on his chest. Their gazes cross, and Kevin sees tears streaming down Moro's cheeks. Day opens his mouth again, but this time Jean shuts it up.
Their lips touch, and Jean completely leans on Kevin, lowering him onto the couch. He's lying on top, and Kevin's arms are wrapped around his waist. Jean can feel his heart beating, and the ringing in his ears tells him that Kevin's heart is beating in the same rhythm. Jean puts his hands on Kevin's soft chest, and Kevin laughs.
Day kisses Jean on the nose, on the cheek, on the chin. He kisses his neck and squeezes his hands, touching Moreau. Jean smiles. Kevin is to blame for this.
It's always Kevin's fault that Moreau gets happier. He gives him care and time, he gives him something that won't go away. It won't slip out of your hands. Jean kisses him again. He puts all his feelings into the kiss, and Kevin accepts them.
They kiss, long and gently. Kevin wraps him in warmth and comfort. Their apartment is not yet equipped, but in one morning it becomes their home. Warm and dear.
When they pull away from each other, Kevin makes breakfast and promises Jean that this will be the best day in the world. The space is instantly filled with the enchanting aroma of coffee. Jean picks up a hot cup and takes a sip. He never drank coffee, he didn't even have an opinion about taste. However, he knows for sure that this coffee is his favorite.
Kevin puts his arm around his waist and pulls him onto his lap. Jean feels softness and sweetness. For the first time, he's glad he's awake.
Jean Moreau was a raven, he did not know what love, friendship and home were. No one has ever needed him. He was broken.
He was loved now. Now he was on his way to work and thought he wanted to go home.
To where he was finally expected.
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zodiacsea · 5 months
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ANOTHER coworker i love is leaving AND i have a bunch of shit i need to get finished at work before i go to vegas next week and not enough time to do it AND the zipper on my favorite jeans broke AND i woke up half an hour late this morning i actually want to go home and curl up in a ball forever. thanks
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loptrcoptr · 1 year
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My neighbors, who have been attempting to edge me out of our shared laundry room and making my home life a pain in the ass: hey, bad news, our lease isn’t going to get renewed in January, we won’t be neighbors anymore :(
Me, the real reason their lease won’t be renewed: oh no, that’s too bad >:)
#personal#basically my neighbors moved in a few months back and the wife has been throwing fits about finding cat hairs in the laundry room#and I mean like fits- like she calls me and accused me of not doongnvenoigh to help with her allergy and making a mess and all sorts of#things that aren’t true. and there are two important facts she neglects to mention. 1) the ad for the house said ‘don’t apply if you’re#allergic to cats.’ 2) the lease stipulates that lessees have to share use of laundry room with me the other lessee.#so basically they ignored the warnings signed on for their and then tried to make her supposed allergy my problem#(never saw her have a reaction she says she gets ‘itchy eyes’ but has no medication. the house is full of cat dander#from my landlords’ cat who lived there until a few months ago but she thinks my cat’s washed hair is making her allergies bad)#the last time she called me nearly in tears saying it’s not fair and I’m not doing enough for her. she wouldn’t agree to anything I offered#to do and I had to keep piling on constraints to get her to agree to stop freaking out#said stipulations: I have to run 2 rinses after each load I have to Lysol wipe top and insides of washer and dryer#and! i have to take the lint filter outside and rinse it out. it’s all such incredible bullshit and she’s never said thank you once.#not once! just treated me like I’m diseased and spreading bf filth and illness and ruining her life and it’s exhausting#she’s been trying to edge me out of my own laundry room and hoping I’ll just say oh ok I’ll go to a laundromat#when I found out they wanted a longer lease it all made sense#edging me out of the space etc. there’s other shit too.#so! when my landlords called to say ‘hey any reason we shouldn’t renew their lease?’ and I was like hahaaaa about that :)#these ppl really thought because they had the more expensive lease they’d get priority lol poor bastards my landlords are my friends
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angelltheninth · 6 months
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Wriothesley Wants to Make You Pregnant
Pairing: Wriothesley x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, breeding kink, pregnancy mention, creampie, rough sex, mating press
A/N: Look, it's proven that he has a soft spot for families with kids so it makes sense that he wants kids of his own.
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"W-Wrio... wha- what's with you tonight?" He was on top of you, fucking you like his very life depended on his cock ramming inside your pussy. A thin sheen of sweat covered you both from hours of lovemaking. He'd displayed his stamina before but never to this degree, able to keep your legs up, holding your hips at this upwards angle while he thrust in and out.
Something must have happened today. You missed every chance to ask him what because every time he'd interrupt by starting to fuck you again, making you forget your question until the post orgasmic high faded from your brain.
Wriothesley seemed so focused on your pussy tonight, rarely taking his eyes off it while his cock was inside, "Fuck, this time, gotta make sure I do it right." He talked to himself more then to you. "Gotta make this pussy pregnant."
There they were, his real intentions.
Normally you didn't use condoms, you were both clean, safe, and used other things to keep you from getting pregnant. You'd brought it up to him, that you'd like to try for a kid someday but he always seemed way too busy for one. But he never said no to you. Tonight he was the one asking, but not with his words, with his cock, and the creampie that was already inside of your well fucked pussyhole.
"You can. Please, yes, I want to. I want to have kids with you Wrio." Tears ran down your face as you let your orgasm rock through your body, this time locking your legs around his torso and keeping his cock inside, all the way to the balls, "See? I can be greedy too. Give it to me, give me your cum, give my womb another creampie, fucking breed me." Finally you said all the words you wanted to say to him since you got married.
He responded accordingly, with his cock twitching inside your pulsing cunt, shooting another load of cum from the tip, making your already sticky insides even stickier. The tight press held more cum in, but not all of course and it spilled over his balls and your ass cheeks. With that much spilling out some must have made it to your womb, "How many you think we're gonna have?" Wriothesley asked, nuzzling his cheek against yours, his body slowly lowering against yours.
"I don't know, but I hope they have your hair. It's so pretty looking." You turned to kiss him and finally ran your hands across his back, taking your time to trace the scars you knew were there before getting to tangle your fingers through his soft but rough looking hair. "Or your eyes, those are pretty too."
And there was that blush of his, "I hope they look more like you." Regardless you'll both love them to death, of that you were both sure of.
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fairy-angel222 · 7 days
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𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐏✶𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑, 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑
GETO SUGURU X FEM! READER
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✶⋆.˚cw: smut, choking, pussy and face slapping, praise, degradation, recording, breeding, dumbfication, i love you’s
✶⋆.˚a/n: first one shot in a line set up for this whole concept ;) requested by anon.
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Geto was a kinky man when he wanted to be. Loving the idea of recording each time he fucked you. Balls slapping noisily onto your wet clit as his hand curled in your hair. Lifting your face up into the camera with a degrading coo.
It was a fit of pure boredom that brought him to take it one step further. Convincing you that you two should share the videos. Make everyone see just how good he was destroying you in bed.
When you had agreed, you had never expected the millions of notifications you received within the first week. The comments on how hot you two were as a couple. How hot Geto looked fucking into you. How hot you looked getting fucked by Geto.
You even received some suggestions on videos your new “fans” wanted to see. Hundreds of thousands of people willing to watch, to get off to, anything that you two decided to post.
It was scary and amusing, but Geto was all for it. His chest swelled with pride knowing that so many men now wanted you but couldn’t have you. Knowing that he was the only one who could fuck you so damn good.
You never expected to find yourself agreeing, your lip between your teeth as you read through the comments. Some of the bold suggestions making your thighs clench at the thought of your boyfriend doing these things to you.
The account quickly rose to the top as the weeks went by. And you never got tired of the many positions Geto would flip you into, fucking into you meanly while praising you so degradingly. Showing the world how fast you turned to putty in his hold.
You attracted many different audiences. Your favorite were those girls who swooned not at him, but at you two on a whole. The way he held you, the way he checked up on you when he was done being rough. The aftercare. They thought your relationship was perfect, and would never fail to let you know.
It wasn’t long until people began demanding more of you two in a non porn setting, your other social medias blowing up with those who just couldn’t get enough of your lives. How much cuter Geto was with you out of bed. The many dates he took you on, the gifts he bought you. Everything.
It became something that your fans loved to see. Your relationship on a whole. Their little comments like ‘so cute!’ , ‘i love them so much’ , ‘you guys need to get married’ , ‘my favorite couple ever’ never failed to make your heart swell.
They respected your privacy of course. But would take anything that was put out for their consumption. Porn or otherwise.
“𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃’𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊”
Was what the title of your latest video read, your fans quick to click on the thumbnail the second it got posted. Many already positioning themselves on their beds. Others plugging in their headphones around coworkers or friends. They knew from a mere four seconds in that they already loved what they saw.
Your hands and knees were trembling as your back arched. Fat tears flowing down your cheeks as you begged your boyfriend to touch you. “Please Sugu— please touch me. Wanna feel your cock so bad.” You moaned, wiggling your ass towards him with a needy mewl.
“Does my greedy girl want me to fuck her dumb? Is that what you want pretty?”
“Mhm, need you.”
He was more than happy to comply, not taking long until he was fucking into you roughly from behind. Your body jerking forward each time his hips hammered against your ass.
“S-suguu. Feels so good,” You mewled, Geto’s hand snaking around your throat to pull you up against his chest, forcing you to make eye contact with the blinking red light in front of you.
His breath fanned your ear, lips ghosting over your skin as he groaned deeply. “If only you could see what they see baby. See yourself moan like a slut in heat while that pretty lil’ pussy sucks me in.”
You let out a loud hiccuped moan, Geto’s cock slamming meanly into your g spot before fucking deep inside you. The small outline of his tip barely visible to the device’s lens. “See how much of a mess you are f’me.”
He felt so good. And your head was spinning as he fucked into you with no mercy. Your shaky whimpers echoing throughout the room as Geto molded your pussy around his cock.
“Nngh— sugu ‘m so full. Love your cock s’ muchh.” Your words were slurred as his other hand reached around to rub small circles on your clit. Your sopping pussy leaking lewdly onto the sheets below as he continued to roll his hips up into you.
“Tell them who’s fucking you so good baby.” He grunted, hand on your throat landing two soft slaps onto each of your teary cheeks before settling right back into place on your neck. The light sting pulling a string of whiney moans past your drool filled lips as you pressed further into him.
“You are. You are Sugu. You’re f-fucking me so good ‘nd i love it— haah. Wan’ you to fuck me like this forever.” You babbled, words muffled by an incoherent cry as your hands gripped his muscular arm. Using him for support when your head grew fuzzy, blanking out everything but the feeling of him inside you.
Geto smirked, “That’s my girl.”
You yelped when you were shoved into the mattress. Your back arched deeply with your torso flat on the sheets. Geto’s hand on the back of your neck forcing you to stay cheek down as he switched up his pace.
The new position allowed him to hit so much deeper. Your needy cries going straight to his cock as you drooled messily. Eyes rolling back with a loud moan every time he gave you a harsh thrust forward, sensitive nipples rubbing on the bed till you were clenching down repeatedly. Loud squelches filling the air as your pussy coated his cock in its slick.
“Sugu, ‘m gonna cum.” A trembling cry. “‘M so close.” You could feel your stomach tightening, breathing getting heavier as you gripped the sheets tightly.
“Yeah? Gonna make a fucking mess for me. Show them how good i fucked you today?” He cooed, watching as you nodded dumbly before letting out a choked moan. “Mhm.”
Geto groaned, palm landing onto your clit so he could watch you jerk with a whimper. Your body quivering when he pulled back you up, arms hooking under your legs to lift you off the bed. Body being moved up and down as he used you as his personal fleshlight. Bouncing you on and off his cock till you were crying uncontrollably, his harsh kisses to your sweet spot shooting to every sensitive nerve in your pussy.
“Suguruu. I- nngh, you’re— ahh.” You didn’t know what you were trying to say, your body being manhandled however he liked for your tight pussy to stroke his length. Your toes curling as your head fell back onto his shoulder.
“Shhh baby, it’s okay. Just take it yeah? Doing so fucking well.” Your legs remained dangling over his arms as he used you to both your delights, feeling yourself ready to let go with another shrieked cry. “F-fuckk. ‘M gonna— oh god.”
“You know they love to see that pretty face when you cum baby, look up at the camera f’me.”
You did as you told, head spinning as you attempted to keep it up right. Focusing on the delicious stretch of your walls to accommodate your boyfriend’s girth.
“Go on baby. Let go. ‘M right there behind you.”
Your mouth hung open in what your fans liked to call an adorable scream as your legs shook. Glossy eyes making content with the camera as you squirted messily. The force of the clear liquid making Geto grunt when it threatened to push his cock out of you.
“There you go.. fuck— that’s my good girl. ‘M gonna fill you up so good now. Gonna stuff that tight pussy to the brim with my cum.” He husked, movements getting sloppy as his abs tensed. Lips parted in deep breaths as his eyes rolled back, something that your audience loved to see.
His cock twitching within your warmth with a string of cracked groans when he buried himself deep. Allowing himself to pump you full of the creamy liquid, painting your insides in sticky white.
He pulled out slowly, still holding you up so the camera could pick up the way your little gaped hole fluttered around nothing. His cum running down your puffy folds in thick spurts. “Look at that baby, sopping pussy’s making a big mess.”
Geto set you down with a smile before kissing you sweetly, taking you into his arms and rocking you back and forth in a hug while placing tiny pecks all over your face. “You did so fucking amazing. That was hot.” Leaning into your ear so that his next words wouldn’t be picked up. “If they don’t jerk off to this i promise you i will.”
You could only hum with flushed cheeks , falling into his chest with a small giggle. “I can’t feel my legs.”
Your boyfriend chuckled, “Ya hear that? She can’t feel her legs.” He grinned at the camera making you both laugh, his attention turning back to you with another passionate kiss. “Don’t worry, i’m gonna get you all mice and cleaned up okay? Gonna take real good care of you.”
“M’kay, love you Sugu.”
“I love you more sweetheart.”
It was no surprise the amount of love you got for the video. It was hard to believe that your account could grow anymore than it already had. The comments seemed to be hooked on how Geto could go from fucking you relentlessly to being the sweetest boyfriend telling you that he loves you.
That amongst thousands of men making it known that they came to the sight of you squirting, that one made Geto a little angry. And the thousands of women begging your boyfriend to be next, like that would ever happen.
You refrained the urge to respond to all the demands for more with the fact that you had loads of others coming up. Some with your boyfriend alone and others with.. guests. But they would have to have the patience to see for themselves.
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sytoran · 6 months
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𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟔 — 𝐒𝐈𝐙𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊
kinktober day 006 | roommate!natasha x werewolf!reader
despite your countless pleads for natasha to stay away during the full moon, she decides to brave the beast and be right by your side during your transformation. she gets a lot more than what she bargained for.
cont. reader has a cock, (very) rough sex, breeding, creampie
word count. 2063
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
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“Natasha, you can’t stay here during my transformation,” you plead, grasping your roommate’s hand in yours.
The brunette is adamant, looking up at you with a stubbornly steely gaze. “I’m staying, Y/N. You don’t have to do this alone anymore. You don’t have to suffer alone.”
You wring your hands in exasperation, somewhere near tearing your hair out in frustration or crying in anger. “You’re not listening to me, Nat. It’s not just the pain. I become a different being altogether, and you just can’t see me like that.”
“I can, and I will,” she stubbornly says, folding her arms over her chest and mistakably pushing her cleavage up, too.
The tips of your ears burn at seeing Natasha so utterly bratty.
You bite your tongue, refusing to argue with Natasha even more. Keeping you safe was one thing, but the real reason to steer Natasha away from you during the full moon was to keep her safe.
Because when you’re in your werewolf form, your true desires get heightened by a thousandfold, and from the way you already feel about Natasha, you’re worried it might implode when it comes to your inner beast.
As the Gods of Fate have it out for you, the full moon comes earlier than expected.
Your first agonized cry comes when Natasha’s still in the shower.
“Y/N!” Natasha calls out your name, once, haphazardly scrambling to wrap a towel around herself and sprint to the room where your cries are coming from.
The sight that greets her is absolutely horrific.
You’re bent over, on the floor of your room, on all fours and spitting out blood. Your back is bent at an inhuman angle, your spine broken.
“......Y/N?” Natasha’s voice shook, rooted to the spot in sheer terror.
You don’t respond. You’re in a state of little awareness, or so it seems, a low grunt of pain and fury escaping from you as your transformation continues. 
Natasha takes in a deep breath and steps into the room.
She wants to reach out, hold your hand, tell you that it’s going to be fine but she knows it’s not. The sounds of excruciating pain, broken bones, and surpassed limits make Natasha weep for you on the inside, knowing that you have to go through this painstaking process every month.
The transformation seems to be slowing down, now. Your human blood is splattered across the walls of your room, but your werewolf form seems to be perfectly healthy. You’re still more human than wolf, though: your muscles had thickened and were iron-hard, and you were taller than before. 
However, your wolfish eyes that survey the room are bloodshot red and absolutely inhuman.
That gaze is a chilling scene, narrowed eyes and steady puffs of air surveying the room. Your slow yet calculated mannerisms are reminiscent of your human form.
Natasha hasn’t quite yet caught your eye,  but when she does, it’s like a predator has found its prey.
Your red eyes are like lit coals and smoking silver, surveying Natasha with every ounce of authority and a near possesiveness.
“Natasha.”
Time stills, and the sound of your haunting voice reverberates around the four walls of your room.
Natasha truly can’t help but let out the tiniest whimper of fear. And perhaps a little something more.
“Y/N,” Natasha says your name again, because it seems to be the only thing capable of falling from her lips, and she swallows harshly at your predatory behaviour. She presses into the wall, one hand clutching the top of her towel, the other finding purchase in the edge of your cupboard. 
When you begin to move closer, Natasha screws her eyes shut, anticipating what was to come. Your presence looms over her, metaphorically and physically, and Natasha waits for her inevitable demise.
The ‘inevitable demise’ never happens.
Instead, Natasha’s eyes flutter open slowly to your huge hands gently wrapping around her torso, a sharp nose burying itself into the crook of her neck.
The whine she lets slip is involuntary. Your close proximity undermines her calm composure, regardless of your way, shape, or form. If that was telling of her feelings towards you, Natasha would choose to play oblivious.
You’re supposed to be scary, and Natasha’s supposed to be terrified, but with the way you’re dragging your nose up and down the column of Natasha’s slender neck, inhaling her sweet scent, she hardly considers her heart to be beating steadily.
She’s intoxicated by you, even more so with your unabashed exploration of Natasha’s neck. The redhead might be grasping at straws, but it’s almost like you’re seeking something. Something from Natasha. Comfort, perhaps?
“You’re okay,” the redhead whispers, fingers combing through your fur in comforting motions. She hears something that sounds suspiciously like a purr of satisfaction, so she repeats that motion.
Your head moves from her pale neck to her pretty collarbones and down her cleavage until your nose hits the obstruction of Natasha's towel.
A low rumble of disgruntlement sounds from somewhere deep in your chest. Natasha lets a full-body shudder take its hold of her body, under the vibrations of your low decibels.
Not comfort, then. What was it?
Almost like you could read Natasha’s inner thoughts, your werewolf form decides to say capre diem and let a huge hand slither up the inside of your roommate’s bare thigh.
Natasha squeals and swats your hand away, instinctively, then she catches herself and her eyes go wide. 
Oh. 
The fire that dances in your eyes is nothing short of a human-like mischief, playful and oh so dangerous. The incarnadine flush that adorns Natasha’s cheeks like a flower blossoming in the spring is one that your werewolf greedily soaks up, pulling her body flush against yours.
You can see the moment realization hits Natasha, the moment she realizes your desires are nothing short of sinful. 
“Want,” you enunciate slowly, stately and unyielding. Your eyes are locked onto hers, gleaming. 
Expectant. Possessive. Knowing.
The grasp of your hand on her inner thigh once again has Natasha letting out a breathy moan, one of pleasure and a startling realisation.
It wasn’t comfort. It was sex.
-----
If Natasha knew that werewolves were this fucking astronomical at sex, she would’ve introduced supernatural creatures into her bed a long time ago.
The position she’s in is nothing short of embarrassing, on all fours, grasping at the headboard like it was her lifeline. 
Perhaps it was, truthfully, because with the ferocity of the thrusts of your Herculean-sized werewolf cock into her pussy from behind was worthy of being sent to the afterlife. Not like Natasha would complain, though.
“Oh- mhmmm, n’more, s’too much,” Natasha slurs, her breasts shaking rhythmically with each time your jerk that massive thing into her, velvet walls squeezing tight around your pulsing cock. Her eyes are threatening to roll back, drool already spilling from the sides of her lips, arousal already leaking from her thighs and on to the bed.
You don’t seem to give a damn about the messiness of it, though, and that could perhaps be linked to the scientific nature of more barbaric animals. But Natasha could ponder over animal studies at a later point in time, for now she was being treated like a fuckdoll, and it was midblowingly gratifying.
“All– the way,” you grunt, trying to shove the entirety of your huge cock into Natasha’s pussy, clearly displeased by the fact that you were struggling to be sealed inside the redhead completely and inescapably. 
It shouldn’t have been a problem because she was already so wet, so pliant, so perfect for the taking. You’d make do with what you had, though.
“It’s too big,” Natasha had whined earlier, gasping as your tip stretched her opening out, the biggest thing she’d ever taken in her life. Her grasp on the headboard tightened as you slid in with a cruel impatience, big hands digging into the soft flesh of her ass.
“I’ll… make it fit,” you reply, somewhat slowly, your speech clearly deterred by your transformation into part-animal. The results of it are undeniably effective, nonetheless, the cockiness of your brash words making arousal pool in Natasha’s hips.
You’ve reached a sweet spot of Natasha’s, and her walls clench around your big cock tightly, mewling as you push its head against her sponginess. 
“Right there, please, please, plea-” Natasha is cut off by one of her own moans when you jerk inside her, spurred on by the sheer tightness she’s providing you. 
When you lean down to entrap Natasha in a breeding press, your bigger body engulfing her smaller one, slick and sweat converging in an unholy sacrament, it’s all over for her.
Going weak in the knees, Natasha moans as her arms give out and her front flops into the bed. The results of this lie in the fact that her back becomes beautifully arched, her ass rising towards the ceiling; your wolfish eyes drink the sight in with a lick of your lips, cock twitching at the prospect of all the new angles you’d be able to reach.
An animalistic prowess takes mighty hold over your sentience, triggering a feral craze to wash over your werewolf form, and it takes mere seconds before you ram your cock back inside Natasha’s wrecked cunt with undying fervour.
The warbled sounds the girl lets out beneath goes unheard, muffled by the pillow, but the sheer slickness of her pretty pussy gives a certain confirmation that she was enjoying it as much as you did. 
Not that your werewolf would care much, anyways: What it was chasing was pleasure, seeking relief in the completely sexual sense, a carnal desire to take and to breed and to claim. 
You push yourself in hilt-deep inside Natasha, fully lodged in, skin against skin.
Instinctively, your hands fly to Natasha’s belly. You can feel your cock bulge there, spreading her out, filling her up.
The next series of your thrusts cause Natasha to make noises she’s never made before, her body moving like clay under your touch. 
You pull out and make her sob, then thrust all the way back in with an unbridled strength that leaves Natasha breathless. Then again, and again, until she cums helplessly around your cock, pulsing and throbbing and alight with nerves.
This is not the side of you Natasha’s grown to know and love. There are no gentle smiles, no soft hugs and whispered words of admiration. It’s completely animalistic, entirely pleasure-chasing, undeniably one-sided.
You’re thrusting into her like she’s your personal fuckdoll, bringing her to high after high, but you don’t even seem to register that fact. You’re using her for your pleasure, and it should be wrong, but…
“More! More, please, please, need another,” Natasha sobs into the pillow, every fibre of her body screaming at her to stop but her brain unable to put it into action. She hardly registers what she’s saying, only begging pathetically and dripping endlessly.
“Inside,” you growl, right next to her ear, sharp teeth grazing her earlobe. Natasha babbles her acknowledgement, even more turned on at the prospect of being filled, fuck it, and the orgasm that crashes over the both of you is heaven-like.
Natasha’s scream of your name reverberates for miles to come.
With that, you’re cumming, finally, and the seed that spills out from you is endless. Natasha drools into the pillow as you unload your cum inside her, gripping fistfuls of her ass pressed flush against your hips. 
“Mine,” you hear yourself say. The helplessly, pathetically aroused tone of your voice nearly makes Natasha weep again — she’s rendered a damn werewolf near speechless.
Streams of white fluid spray onto Natasha’s back once you’re done with her cunt. You manhandle her around to face the front, to find her pretty eyes rolled to the back of her head, drool coating her lips.
Your werewolf heaves as you watch as your seed overflows from her pretty pussy and on to her thick thighs. A perfect creampie.
Your werewolf, however, has different plans, feeling your cock stiffen again at the sight of her ruined pussy. 
-----
The next morning, you wake up with a throbbing feeling between your legs.
Shit. Was it my transformation?
You leap out of bed, yanking the covers off—
To reveal a very naked Natasha Romanoff, your best friend and your roommate.
She awakes with a start, blinking at the light, and then wincing as if her body was aching all over.
“.......Nat?” you ask hesitantly, eyes trailing over her marked thighs and tits. “What happened last night?”
“Okay. Don’t panic, but you’re fathering my children.”
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finally catching up on fics!! i did spend significantly longer on this fic, so it would be highly appreciated if you could reblog
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
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shuosen · 5 months
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gojo satoru x top! amab! reader
cw: slight degradation, hair pulling, blowjob (r), slight choking, slapping if you squint, overstim?, stomach bulge
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there was a very, very thin line between lust and fear that many don’t realize they’ve traveled. they stand to wonder if the shivers that wrack their body are from desire, or terror. Gojo Satoru, is not afraid of anything. he is the strongest, he knows he is the strongest. his confidence and strength has gotten him to where he is today- where is he?
he wants to say he’s currently wooing a woman, that he’s in a fight, and of course winning, but he cant. he cant say he’s out doing badass shit- hell, he can’t say anything at all. not with your cock stuffed down his throat, pulsing veins pressing against his flat tongue that struggles to maneuver across the girth of your member.
his large, strong hands shake helplessly in the air before he lays them on his thighs, gripping the familiar texture of his uniform. his eyes twitch before shutting tight, attempting to keep the tears in his eyes from falling, because gojo satoru does not cry.
he’s struggling to keep it together and you chuckle with as much amusement as one can manage, watching him flinch when the tight hand in his hair tugs harder. he wonders if this is what fear feels like, because surely this powerful feeling dwelling in his stomach and producing full body reactions is not lust. surely he is not lusting this hard for his colleague, and his friend.
your predatory eyes glaze over as he chokes on your cock, and you grip his hair at his scalp, thrusting into his throat and you’re sure you’ve successfully made any and all thoughts flee from his mind.
“you liking this, baby? hm? does my cock in your throat feel good?”
the only response you get are gurgles and useless whines as your cock and his spit clog his mouth, and you just have to grin at your hard work, finding pride in reducing ‘the strongest’ to a whore and a hole.
“thas’ right.. hu- fuck.” you mumble, rolling your hips into his mouth, listening as he chokes and gags each time your head presses into the back of his throat. It’s sloppy, he doesn’t know how to use his mouth for this kind of thing, but his throat closes around you with every gag and every sob he lets out, and he’s making you feel good even with no experience. you just think he is so pretty like this, face all red and messy, but you’re also sure he’ll be even prettier once you stretch him out and fill him up, and you know his noises will be music to your ears when you’re finally able to fuck him, so you pull out, taking advantage of his dazed state, listening to him sputter as you slap your cockhead on his lips.
“get up.” you order, grabbing his arm and aiding him to his feet, before shoving his face into the bed you were previously sitting on, listening as he gasps a deep breath. you waste no time grabbing both of his wrists with one hand while the other yanks his pants and underwear down to his thighs. the sudden movement makes him twitch in surprise, his fingers curling into his palms, a noise between a gasp and a groan leaving his lips as you manhandle his hips, moving him to your liking freely.
“shit, wait!” gojo stumbles over his words, trying to push his hips down and away from your hands, the snap sound of the lube cap somewhat ominous to his muddled brain.
“what?” you ask, bending yourself over his back, resting your chin against his shoulder and letting go of his wrists in favor of pulling his chin up from the bedsheets. “you want me to stop?”
he freezes at the question, something akin to a sob falling from his lips, because he didnt expect you to ask that and he sure as hell doesnt have an answer. if he says no, would that be stripping him of his pride? he’s a man with much dignity and little femininity. if he say’s no, he’s allowing himself to be fucked, which means he can no longer deny the lust and the longing for you, for your cock, but if he says yes, you’ll leave him here- his own member dripping and lonely, your burning touch fading from his body- and with a broken whine, he comes to the conclusion that the former is the better choice, letting himself go slack in your hold.
“no..”
“good boy.” you grin, and he flinches at the cold temperature of the lube pouring onto his hole.
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it’s been hours- gojo thinks. hours since you first began prepping him, fingers sinking into his tight hole, stretching it beyond what he thought it could be, hours since you first sank into him, hours since your cock first grazed his prostate, and hours since his descent into becoming a brain dead cock whore began.
“A-auhhg! f-fuck! fuck!” He cries, his noises so loud that they almost drown out the slap of your hips against his ass and thighs, the reddening of them just one aspect of proof of how long you’ve been rutting into him. you wanted to be slow with him, treat him nicely and slowly unfold him beneath you, but these noises, seeing your cock disappear everytime you sink in, and the way his back arches was too good to resist.
you fucked into him harshly and deeply, your red, burning cock bruising his sweet spot with every sharp piston of your hips into his sloppy hole. he’s completely given up trying to save his image, the way he cries and moans and kicks as you take him is clear of that. he no longer cares about anything but you ruining his pretty, puffy hole.
the pace of your hips is so fast, and so rough that he cant register the difference between your thrusts in and your slides out, and he cant do anything but scream, his noises a mix of words, letters, and maybe your name.
through your own groans and puffs of air, you chuckle, something that sounds demeaning to his ears and he shrivels, a loud “n-no!” echoing through the small room, but neither of you know what he’s addressing.
“what’s wrong?” you huff, adjusting your grip on his waist, and leaning forward for a new angle. “HCK- Sh- Ughk!” he chokes, stuffing his face forward into the sheets and you click your tongue, moving your hand around, and pulling him up along with you by his neck, your fingertips squeezing the sides.
“i asked you a question, toru. you too fucked out to answer me properly?”
his breathing is heavy and labored and you laugh at his pathetic state once again. “whatever,” you mumble, letting go of his neck, allowing his upper body to fall onto the bed. “jus’ means im doin’ a good job.”
you grin, pressing a hand down on his back harshly, forcing an arch as you continue to rut into his sloppy hole. gojo yelps under you, his milky thighs shaking with the effort of holding his hips up, his hands gripping onto the sheets beside his head as if they’ll run away. you’re sure he’s cum multiple times untouched now, but every man wants pleasure on his dick, and maybe it was an act of mercy, or maybe it was just your evil mind, but you reached under him, squeezing his cock in your hold, beginning to jerk him off.
at the first feathery touch of your hand, gojo screamed, jolting forward, his legs kicking upwards, desperate hands trying to push yours away from his sensitive, leaking dick as you pound into his hole and jerk him off at the same time. “s-no! shit! cant!”
“you can.” your sentence is punctuated by a slap on his ass and his whole body jumps, his shoulders shaking as he curls into himself, and he looks small.
your thumb rubs over his tip continuously, and his hips buck so harshly your forced to let go, and your hand brushes over his stomach, feeling something that makes your hips stutter, almost pausing in their ministrations.
“fuh-fuck.. ‘toru, no way.” you laugh, bringing him up so his back is flush with your chest and you peer over his shoulder, delivering one deep, harsh thrust into him, confirming the cock bulge in his defined stomach.
a groan erupts from your throat, and theres no time wasted before your pressing him into the bed with your back and your hips, fucking his hole again, but this time- your sly hands rub his stomach, before pressing down with force, right where your cock is, and gojo squeals, his voice high pitched, desperate and messy like a common street whores.
the sound tips you over, your pace slowing, and gojo, as spent as he is, breathes a sigh of relief, taking deep breathes in, before pressing his hand against your abdomen, trying to push your cock out.
“oh? we aren’t done so soon..”
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please like and reblog to show your support! this is my first piece of writing, and english is my second language, so i’m a little worried about how its come out. thank you! <3
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notmyneighbor · 1 month
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Let Me in ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Chapter 3
Word Count ~ 2.5k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ blood and gore, body horror, character death, minor violence, dubious consent, sexual content
Also available on AO3
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
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You sit on the side of the bed that had once belonged to Francis Mosses.
The comforter and top sheet have already been pulled down. You lean over to slide out of your low heeled pumps, tucking the pair of navy leather shoes neatly under the bed.
There’s a bible on the nightstand. A worn looking copy. Beside it a glass with a shallow amount of water resting in the bottom, the remnant of a late night attempt to quench thirst, perhaps.
The doppelgänger watches your movements. How methodical each action is. Slow and deliberate. You’re stalling.
He settles beside you and the mattress creaks as the springs are compressed. That odd sort of shimmer you’d noticed earlier outside the security booth outlines his frame for a brief moment. A surge of light and color as the skin ripples before settling. They still weren’t completely able to disguise what they were. All hope was not lost.
Your own fate, however, seems sealed. You lie down slowly, carefully. You feel as if you are laying yourself to rest in your own coffin. Turning your face ever so slightly to see if there is any trace of the man that had once slept here, some lingering scent or an indent from his face. Nothing but the fragrance of clean linen. The imposter moves as if to join you but you halt him, your fingers closing over his forearm. Your first time touching him and not the other way around. “Take your shoes off.”
The creature snickers, glancing down at the scuffed oxfords he’s wearing. Overdue for a shine. “What possible difference does that make?”
“It’s respectful. You never put your shoes where someone sleeps.”
“He won’t be sleeping here ever again.”
You inhale sharply, wincing. “Please just do it.” You can’t say why you’re so hung up on this. Only that it seems the right thing to do. A small thing in a sea of wrongs that you’re clinging to like a life preserver.
“Fine.” He acquiesces, bending to unlace them. There is no care in his actions. Just brisk, impatient pulls to undo the knotted ties. Then he is lying beside you. Your heads sharing the same pillow. Francis only used a single one, apparently. Preferring to slumber lying with his head and neck rather flat. You always used two fluffy pillows, minimum.
You can hear the sound of music starting to play, emanating from the resident’s apartment next door.
Mia Stone, perhaps. The blonde teacher who was Dr. Afton’s fiancée. You instantly recognize the musical artist crooning through the walls: Billie Holiday.
I say I'll move the mountains
And I'll move the mountains
If he wants them out of the way
You would have loved to play this record for Francis. You envision trying to dance in the cramped space of the living room, twirling around in his arms. “Did he really like my fragrance?” You know the creature could lie, of course. He’d say anything to manipulate you and get what he wanted. But you have to ask. Your heart won’t let you avoid the query.
The dark eyes of the pretender regard you. You detect no malice or dishonesty there. “Yes,” he says simply.
You close your eyes, sighing. “What else did he like about me?”
“Your smile, gifted once you were certain it was really him. The way you covered your mouth when you laugh, making some little relieved joke when you passed his identification and entry request back to him each day. The strands of hair that came loose around your face as the day wore on into late afternoon when he returned from his route. The—”
“—Stop. Please.” Tears well in your eyes. They didn’t sound like the kind of details the deceiver would create on his own. There was a note of truth to them. Genuine recollections. He truly was all that remained of Francis Mosses. A man that had been fond of you. You could have been with him, if only you’d been a little braver.
“You asked me to tell you.”
“I know. It’s just overwhelming.”
Like the wind that shakes the bough
He moves me with a smile
“Your kind is so fond of music. Your milkman was always humming. I don’t see the use for it.”
The your wrenches your heart. He wasn’t yours. Never would be. “It’s a way to expression emotions. When words alone aren’t enough.”
“Hmmm.” He reaches out and you flinch. “Why are you fighting this so hard? This is what you wanted.”
“I didn’t want Francis to die.” You pause, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Why do you want this?”
”Curiosity. An experiment of sorts. There has never been a union between our kind. Not of this nature. A desire to know what it feels like. To see what might result.”
You shudder. An experiment. Using you like some kind of animal for breeding. A mere whim.
He reaches again and this time you force yourself to hold steady, your chin lifting with a short jerk of defiance. Your hair is his goal. Tucking it back behind one ear. Maybe something the milkman had wanted to do. There’s a sudden softness in the doppelgänger’s eyes. As if the human he’d once been was peeking through at you. You find yourself melting again, your defenses coming down.
I say I'll care forever
And I mean forever
He moves closer to you. Inching over across the white fitted sheet. A thumb strokes away one of the tears that has escaped its prison. He captures the other from the opposite cheek, bringing it to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the droplet. “Salt,” he says, recognizing the mineral.
He kisses you.
You’re not sure if it’s better to think of the man you had loved or not. Was it dishonoring his memory or was it a way to keep him present in some vague capacity? There’s no clumsiness this time. He knows the feel of your mouth. The way to shift against you. Tongue mapping past smooth cheeks and dragging along the carpet of muscle at the base of that maw. Maybe it was better to pretend this was Francis after all. You cup the back of his neck, fingers teasing the edges of his milk chocolate tresses. Curling slightly on the ends. It would be time for a trim soon. Would have been. The illusion you’ve created is crumbling again. Your lips falter, your hand dropping away.
Crazy he calls me
Sure, I'm crazy
Crazy in love am I
“Sweetheart,” the invader murmurs, tasting along your jaw, your neck. “I like the way you smell.” Speaking for himself, not Francis. You hear the sharp intake of air. The hand that had been casually laid across your shoulder slides down until it reaches your breast, gently kneading that globe through the layers of your bra and blouse. “Does this feel good?” His voice is octaves lower than you’d ever heard from the milkman. Slightly raspy and sultry, not unlike the singing voice that permeates through the wood and plaster behind the bed. You don’t dare answer, merely whimpering a little and he seems to take this as an affirmative response.
His hand leaves your breast and finds the top button of your shirt. Always sensible, pure white, part of the uniform standard the company requires. Another threaded plastic disc is pushed through the hole. He works his way down until all those that are exposed have surrendered, the remainder still tucked within your skirt. His fingers part the edges of the fabric encasing your torso, peeling them back to reveal the white satin brassiere beneath. He caresses you briefly through this slick material before tucking inside the cup until he brushes across your areola. Your nipple peaks beneath his ministrations as his lips move back to yours. He is surprisingly gentle, lightly pinching and rolling the aroused tissue. Your body betrays you, responding to the creature’s touch. You should be ashamed, disgusted. Instead you find yourself wanting more.
“Off,” he murmurs impatiently, plucking at your bra before his hand departs your chest. You struggle to sit up and he allows it, watching you pull your blouse free from your skirt and unfastening the cuffs before sliding it off your arms. With a swift gesture borne of long practice you easily pinch and release the hook and eye closures resting along the center of your spine, the cups immediately folding down over the underwire, the straps drooping over your shoulders.
The doppelgänger assists you now, sliding the brassiere off the rest of the way, exposing your chest to him. Your cheeks are pink, flushed like the nipples he’s toying with again, his head bending to suckle at one and a lick of flame sears your core. This is part of the invasive species’ learning process, you think. Taste as important as touch. His mouth moving not with the sole purpose of your pleasure in mind, but as a means to explore flavors and textures. Cataloguing. More of humanity’s secrets unveiled.
There is a song you don’t recognize playing next door now. Muffled voices. You’d had no idea the walls were so thin. Francis had never complained.
You’re shoved back down onto the pillow. His mouth wanders, back up to sample a collar bone, the hollow at the base of your throat, then dips in between your breasts and tastes the skin of your abdomen. You wonder if he can detect the floral soap you’d bathed with that morning, the traces of lotion you’d applied during your hygiene routine.
“I like this,” he says, his breath warm on your body. “You’re so soft. Smooth. Not like…I’ve never taken…” It had often been debated if there were sexes in their species. How they propagated. There was still so much unknown. Was there a reason he’d only chosen men to replicate? Was it simply because he was male himself? You could not explain how you knew it, but there was something distinctly masculine about him. Authoritative. Blunter than a woman would be. A lifetime of being raised to respect decorum had been firmly ingrained in you. Society valuing a woman who knows her place. Taught to be demure, deferring to the wisdom and guidance of their male counterparts. Serving and obeying, like you’re doing now.
The imposter returns his attention to your face. Licking your mouth back open. He likes this, you think. All of what you’d shared thus far, but perhaps the kissing best of all.
The background melody silences and you think you detect the front door opening and closing. You wonder if the couple will be going out to an early dinner. Curious when they find there is no one guarding the building. But not alarmed. Not yet.
Your skirt is being lifted, polyester dragged upward after the copycat’s hasty reach downward to gather the hem. Immediately sliding back down, stroking over your exposed thighs that are clad in nylons that stop midway across each of your upper legs. Nothing fancy, just utilitarian features in a shade of nude slightly more tanned than your own complexion. He nudges against the seal you’ve created by pressing your legs close together. “Let me in, sweet girl.” An echo of what he’d said earlier in an attempt to gain access to the building, now seeking entry into you. You feel your limbs parting for him nearly as promptly as you’d opened the door.
The pretender works his way back up to the fork of your body, teasing along the crotch of the white panties. You gasp and he smiles against your lips. His palm drags over the fabric until his fingers find the elastic waistband and he dips beneath it, running overly the neatly trimmed hair on your pubic mound, following the curve of that padded flesh until your sex is palpated.
Another gasp and a moan escapes you. “So wet,” he remarks, fondling the pink lips, parting the petals with his middle finger to slide through the slick arousal your body is creating, working the lubricant up and down, passing over the hooded nub and then delving back towards your entrance, where more fluid escapes.
It feels good and yet it doesn’t, his fingers too rough and just shy of where you need him. You squirm and wince at the harsh handling of your clitoris and he pauses, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Show me. Show me how you like to be touched.”
You reach down cautiously, guiding his fingers to one side of your sensitive bud, lightly pressing and rolling a fingertip so that your clit is ground slightly against the bone beneath. Alternating now, reaching back down to gather more of your slick before spreading it over that hooded button, a few direct strokes applied before beginning the process again. He replicates your actions and your body responds immediately, a hum of pleasure heating you. You close your eyes and you think of the milkman, the real one, with his kind smile and his tired eyes.
“Francis.” The name escapes your lips and you freeze, the rocking motion of your hips against the imposter’s hand abruptly ceasing. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Alarmed by how easily you’d allowed yourself to give in to the desire, accommodating this make believe passion.
“It’s alright, love. It’s me. I’m here.” His tongue laps at your ear, at the sensitive patch of skin behind it. You shiver and resume grinding against his fingers, letting yourself be deluded once more, your hand curling over his forearm.
“Francis,” you say again, hoping he can forgive you, in whatever form he now occupies, if he is saved as his faith professes he would be, finding redemption and peace, somewhere far from your sinning body that writhes in pleasure from his murderer’s touch.
You push against his hand and he allows it, applying force against the hollow cavity that leads to your womb. “Let me in,” he breathes, and you feel a finger invading your body, shoving through the narrow confines of that muscular tunnel. Withdrawing and spearing again, the digit saturated with your arousal. You moan and lift your pelvis to meet him. Curling inside, massaging that dip of spongy tissue. Crooking each time he enters as if he is leading you forward, beckoning, his thumb drawing circles over your clit. You feel as if you’re on the edge of a chasm, teetering on the rim, about to drop forward into heat and darkness. Keening now. Thighs tremoring violently. Your face turns and your teeth sink into the pillow. “There you go, love. Give it to me. Give in to me.”
The coiling pressure within you snaps and you find release at last, the fabric clenched in your teeth doing little to muffle the sound of your orgasm. You’re drenched in sweat, the aftershocks of your appeased nerves still sizzling through you. The doppelgänger cradles you through all of it, holding you as you ride the waves that exhaust your limbs, making you feel boneless and limp.
“Francis.” It’s a yearning plea, a futile prayer, answered by the thing that is not him, but masquerades as such, crooning to you, whispering false promises, draping you in synthetic affection, a lie you want so desperately to believe.
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buckyalpine · 9 months
Text
Cheating Steve x reader, Steve x Sharon, Bucky x reader
How Bucky and reader get together
Warnings: angst, cheating, smut, Steve regrets his choices, Bucky is the sweetest, fluffff
-
Steve knew.
Not that it was surprising at this point.
What more could he expect after you walked in on him and Sharon months ago. It was never supposed to happen but he gave into the heat of the moment. He didn't have the excuse of being drunk or drugged. He was stone cold sober. No stressful mission increasing his stress.
Maybe you agreed to try and work things out but he knew from the heartbreak in your eyes and their void of warmth, the hurt was too deep.
And yet still.
He didn’t realize just how badly that hurt would be until he experienced it himself. He didn't even see it but could hear it and damn his enhanced hearing, he could hear every detail.
There was no loud banging.
No over the top, obnoxious moaning.
No spews of filthy words exchanged.
Which is why this hurt so much more.
Because it was real.
This wasn't about revenge or getting back at him for what he'd done to you. They had no idea Steve would be back so early. They had no idea he'd be standing outside, hearing everything. Steve stood outside of Bucky's bedroom, the flowers he held in his hand crushed, staying rooted in place, nostrils flared, eyes squeezed shut.
Bucky was making the softest sweetest most tender love to you and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
He could hear the faint creak of the bed.
Your soft whines and whimpers.
Bucky's low moans and heavy breaths.
He was taking all his time in the world to touch you gently, making you feel good while also giving you all the pleasure he possibly could.
“You’re so pretty doll” It was just a whisper, but Steve heard it. He hated the mental images that came up in his mind each time you moaned a bit louder or the sounds of wet skin carried through the door. "My pretty girl"
Maybe it was a good thing he couldn't see. Because if he did, Steve would've seen the way Bucky's hand stroked your hair softly with each thrust. The way he looked at you with nothing but love. His lips kissing every bit of your face, nuzzling himself into your neck while his hands pinned you under him.
Steve would've seen the debauched mess on the sheets, messy and sticky with your mixed arousal that had been leaking out of you, the both of you unable to keep your hands off each other. He would've seen your legs tightly wrapped around his best friends waist while his cock stretched you open, his much larger body shielding you.
Steve wouldn't have been able to handle the way your eyes were glassy, tears slipping down your cheeks from how good it felt, both emotionally and physically. He would've hated seeing how blissed out you looked, eyes unable to focus, jaw slack each time Bucky pushed himself deeper, grinding his hips into you. You couldn't possibly be any closer and it still felt like it wasn't enough.
Steve would've lost his mind, seeing the way your both desperately clung onto each other, meeting each others thrusts, Bucky's thick arms moving from your hands to wrap around your body instead. He held onto you tightly, his pace faltering and Steve knew. He could hear the increase in breaths, the stutter of his movements making the bed creak irregularly, fuck he didn't want to hear this shit anymore but he couldn't move.
"I'm gonna cum baby"
Fuck.
"Cum in me Bucky"
No. He wouldn't.
It wasn't like he could stop it. Steve gritted his teeth hearing your muffled moans, it should've been him. It should've been you in his room, him making love to you, him making you feel good, him filling you up till you dripped onto his sheets, him desperately moaning and feeling good with you.
"M'gonna cum, m'cumming for you doll, hnngg" God, his best friend sounded so desperate and broken but Bucky would never, he wouldn't, he couldn't, he- "Fuckkk y/n, feels so good, cumming so much for you. Take it all, sweet girl"
Fuck.
He wouldn't have handled seeing the way Bucky's muscles tensed, burying his face into your neck, your teeth digging into his shoulder while he rutted into you, cock swelling and throbbing ropes of cum into you while you convulsed around him.
FUCK.
“I love you my doll”
No. She's not fucking yours.
God how he wished it was one sided, that you’d just moan in response. That you were just using Bucky as a rebound with no actual feelings. Steve knew you didn’t say those words in vain, you wouldn’t say it back, not unless-
“I love you too James”
Steve was going to burst through the door until a voice chirped behind him, tapping his shoulder, pulling him from his spiral.
"Those for me?" Sharon blushed, pointing to the now half destroyed roses Steve held, pulling his shoulder away from her.
"No" Steve's jaw clenched, shoving her touch away, his irritation growing when Sharon followed him down the hall.
"Don't tell me you're still thinking about that stupid bi-"
"DON'T" Steve turned back and glared at her, clenching his fists before he did something stupid, "Just- don't"
"All high and mighty now, are we?" Sharon spat while he shook his head, wishing she'd leave. "Y'know they've been sleeping together behind your back the entire time you were gone away for the mission. And you're still hung up on her? Now she's the one cheating on you"
Cheating. Was it cheating? He was never able to mend your heart after he broke it. He tried. He tried so hard.
"Doesn't matter" Steve replied while Sharon huffed, daring to follow him into his room.
"We only hooked up once. She's been fucking you're best friend ever since and you still want her back?"
"I fucked up first Sharon" Steve gritted but the blonde rolled her eyes in response. "It was my mistake that led to this"
"Mistake" She shook her head in disbelief, biting her bottom lip staring at the broken Captain in front of her, "So what we did was just a mistake?"
"Worst one I've ever made" Steve nodded, not bothering to look back when Sharon stormed off, the sound of Bucky's bedroom door opening making his ears perk up. He threw the flowers he brought for you to the side while he heard your soft footsteps approaching, his stomach churning when you appeared at his door.
You blinked, surprised at the sight of Steve sitting at the edge of his bed, a crushed bouquet of flowers sitting on the dresser while he was still in his tac uniform. Your heart was pounding, he wasn't supposed to be back until next week.
"You're back early" You kept your voice steady, hoping he wouldn't notice anything askew.
But you knew. There was no way he didn't hear. Even if he didn't, your hair was tousled, skin warm, you smelled of sex, smelled of Bucky. There was no hiding it; the Captain looking up at you with watery eyes, the tears threatening to slip they landed on your disheveled form..
"Does he make you happy?"
You swallowed before nodding, while Steve gave you a tight lipped smile in return. He didn't say anything else, a silent way of him letting you go, hanging his head when you turned back around, going back to the one who now had your heart.
He wished he had it in him to feel happy for you both. You deserved happiness and Bucky would've never done what he did. He closed his eyes at the sound of your happy giggles and squeals of laughter, Bucky's following right after before the door shut again, leaving Steve alone in his room.
He'd better get used to it.
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animeshotsh · 3 months
Text
Devils Touch | Dad!Lucifer x Kid!Reader |
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Summary: Being forced to take pills alongside your mother just seems enough to end in hell...
Warnings: Suicide mentions | Death | Canon Violence| Cursing | Lucifer its a softie | SFW | Reader its between 5-7 | Reader takes the form of a sheep/cat mix | Reader's mom sucks tbh | Maybe platonic!yandere Luci? |
When you opened your eyes everytning was red. Screams and insults filled the air, the smell of blood and other things you could not understand filled your nose making you gag.
"Mom?" You asked to no one, no one took note of you. All you could see were strange creatures, some more human and some more animal.
Tears went down your face, you could remember being forced to take some pills. Your mother crying while she did the same.
Something was wrong, really wrong.
"And what do we have here?" A stranger voice said taking you by the collar, you ended up meeting with sharp red eyes, and that look....it did not mean well.
"L-let me go" you screamed trying to get free from this thing. Reacting out you saw your hands were now black with claws, making your mind quick you attacked that thing.
It let you go with a small "fuck". You took of running, not knowing where to go, but you could hear that thing behind you chasing you.
Taking a quick look behind you ended against something. Looking up someone wearing a white suit with a cane and a hat that had a snake looked to you.
"P-please help me" you tried again "I dont know whats happening I want my mom"
The stranger took you by your arms to inspect you.
Lucifer stood there with no emotion seeing the "x" on your neck. Suicide? He thought seeing the mark. But you were just a kid, with fluffy cat hears and a tail, however your hair was not the one from a cat but the one from a sheep...or a lamb. Two little horns did also appear on top of your head.
He cursed inside his mind. Maybe you were killed, or forced to something. You were too small, your soul did not let out any type of malice besides the "sin" of taking your own life.
He soon saw a Demon coming towards him, most likely looking for you, and with no debout their intentions were not good.
Just one flick of his hand the Demon was gone. You were shaking looking at him and then around you.
Fuck, he wished Charlie was here, he knew she would be able to calm you down.
Taking care of sinners was not his job. His job was to rule hell, but he could not just leave you in here. He was sure you would be dead again in seconds.
Or worse.
"Calm down Kid, im going to take care of you" his voice was as soft as he could. Turning around opening a gold portal to his home "whats your name?"
He nodded once he hear your name, carefully petting your head. He passed by many old photos of his family. A maid appear besides him looking at the sinner in his arms.
"Please, prepare a bath and get some clothes " Lucifer requested passing you to her.
Or well, trying to.
"N-no, I dont want to go with her!" Your hands took an iron grip on his suit.
Lucifer almost panicked at your state but tried to remember what he used to do when Charlie was this young.
"Listen, she is someone good. You will be taken care off. We can have lunch later, and some sweets"
"...chocolate?" You asked with pleading eyes
~☆~☆~☆~
After your bath and food you were in a better mood. Lucifer used this time to show you around the house while asking you different questions to try and know why you had ended in here.
He showed you his ducks collection and almost passed out by how much you loved them. You ignored him as you played with the duck, almost burning the wall with one of them.
Lucifer decided to tired you up and then look up for your mothers soul. If you two died together...then the chances of her being down here were high.
~☆~☆~☆
It was harder than he expected. The sugar from the chocolate gave you so much energy you ended checking every room of the house. Lucifer behind you trying to stop you from getting hurt or from breaking something.
"Catch me if you can!" You joked while he tried to balance two statues.
With a swing of his wings he was able to catch you, rolling down the stairs and laughtning with you. You seemed....happy almost forgetting your situation. To you this could be nothing but a bizarre dream.
~☆~☆~
Once you were tired enough, Lucifer took you to one room. His heart made a flip when you took his arm pulling him close.
But he needed to go and see where your mother's soul was. So he made the maid stay outside your room just in case you woke up.
~☆~☆~
"That fucking bastard, son of a bitch, cursed slut" Lucifer screamed almost burning his office. Turns out, your mother was not in hell or heaven, she was alive, whatever she was triying to do failed for her.
He wanted to go there and kill her himself. Not only her but heaven as well, you were just a kid. Sure, you had cursed, and lied sometimes, he had read your record of sins. But that was not enough to make you end down here.
He knew your faith was sealed. Heaven would never admit they made a mistake or listen to him for starters. He had to calm down and think.
And after some minutes he decided the safest option would be for you to stay with him. He was not sure how he would explain to you who he was or what had happened. But he knew a few things, besides him no one would try to hurt you, and also you made him feel happy again. He could raise you, be a better father, be someone you could relay on.
"Its decided" he said to himself, picking up a pen and a paper, he wrote down your name and his last name. This way the other sins and overlords would know not to mess with you.
"Dont worry (y/n) im going to protect you.
~☆~☆~
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yawnderu · 4 months
Note
bimbo!reader would be the type of girl to ask Simon if he would still love her if she was a worm and then get legit teary-eyed if he starts asking questions instead of just immediately answering yes. Has to say with the straightest face possible that of course, she would be the prettiest worm he'd ever seen, so that she doesn't cry and ruin her mascara because he knows it's her favorite brand
>bimbo!reader would be the most breathtaking worm he's ever seen, actually.
“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” He blinks a few times, his warm hands pausing the gentle brushing they were doing through your hair. He looks down at you with raised eyebrows, utterly confused.
“What?” It's all he can ask, immediately regretting it when he notices the tears rimming your eyes, threatening to break free at any second now.
“So that's a no?” There are not many things Simon hates in this life, yet seeing you cry is on the top of the list. The way your voice breaks and you sniffle while trying to hold back tears is ripping his soul apart, no matter how silly the question is. He instantly cups your cheeks, his thumbs soothingly rubbing your cheekbones.
“'Course I'd still love you if you were a worm, angel.” He reassures, wiping your tears with his thumb to prevent them touching your pretty eyelashes. He knows how much you love the new mascara he bought you, and he doesn't want to see it all ruined.
“You'd be the prettiest worm ever— all pink and adorable, with marks that somehow look like the heels you always wear.” That drags a small giggle out of you, smiling up at him. You're not tearing up anymore, but you're looking at him expectantly, so he keeps going.
“I'd teach ya self-defense for when I'm not there to protect you. I'd make a new one, worm-wondo or something.” He scratches the back of his neck, looking away as he actually starts thinking about it, surprisingly getting too into the idea.
“And I'd keep you in a nice tank— custom made just for my pretty girl. It'd be all pink, have plenty of food, and I'd read fashion magazines for you.” Your small giggles are giving him life, looking down at you with a warm look in his eyes as he caresses your cheek, his other hand softly massaging your scalp. Something about encouraging hair-growth, from what he remembers of conversations with you.
“Prettiest girl ever and prettiest worm, too. Lovely girl you are.” He pinches your cheek softly, smiling when you grin up at him, fully reassured of his undying love for you. It's a hypothetical question for you, but for him? It's a promise.
Bimbo!Reader Masterlist
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kentopedia · 3 months
Text
౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ REASSURANCE — nanami kento
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kento comforts you when you're feeling down
contents: gn!reader, insecurities, pet names, this was written in like 30 mins so idk, 700 words, sfw
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“kento?” you asked, resting your hands on your lap. from the other side of the couch, he turned, smiling softly, placing his thumbs between the pages of the book to save his spot. your head was buried in the cushion, and you stared at him, blinking slowly. “you still love me, right?”
at first, he laughed, a small little sound that left his throat. then, when your face fell further, he cut himself off immediately, eyebrows drawing together tightly. “of course, i love you, sweetheart. i love you so much. why are you asking me?”
you shrugged, embarrassed, and looked away from him, at your hands locked together. “sometimes i just don’t know why. it makes more sense that you wouldn’t love me than that you do.”
a heavy frown drew on kento’s face, and inched closer, reaching out. “what do you mean? did i do something that made you feel unloved? if i did, honey, i’m sorry—”
which only served to make you feel worse, because, most things weren’t ever kento’s fault. he was so patient and caring, the sweetest man you’d ever known. and you weren’t sure that you deserved that kind of love at all.
“of course not, kento, you’re perfect.”
he smiled a bit, then, but that didn’t erase the concern in his eyes. “i’m certainly anything but perfect.” his fingertips ran along the back of your own, softly. “tell me what’s wrong, my love. i don’t like seeing you upset.”
you sniffed, willing the tears away as you looked past him once more, unable to meet his gentle eyes. “it’s stupid.”
“don’t say that. nothing you feel is ever stupid.”
and when a tear fell down your cheek at the kind words, you wiped it away before kento could see it, scrubbing violently at your skin.
“i’m fine, kento.”
“you’re not.” he paused, softened his voice. “it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. i won’t make you. but don’t keep it all bottled up just because you think you’re being silly. okay?”
you glanced over, blinked, stared at the way his smile was slightly tilted. the plumpness of his lips, the gentleness of his eyes. his soft, blond hair falling over his forehead, because it was sunday night, and he hadn’t bothered to style it.
how dearly you loved him. you’d rather die than live a life without him.
a sob broke loose from you, and you covered your face with your hands, sniffling. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry.”
kento said nothing, but drew you closer, pulling you onto his lap. tears fell down your cheeks, and though you didn’t want to look at him, he drew your lips to his own, the touch barely there, before he kissed across your cheeks, your forehead.
“why are you sorry?”
“i didn’t mean to cry. i’m being so dumb. and sensitive.”
“honey,” he sighed, stroking your cheeks, eyes almost pained from the sight of you so upset. “it’s okay. don’t apologize for crying. i love you. i love you, i love you.”
you breathed deeply, trying not to cry harder, hating how difficult it was for you to accept him irrevocable affections, sometimes. “but why? why would you choose me, kento? i don’t think i’m an easy person to love. i’m so… boring, and average, and you are amazing in every way.” you squeezed his hand, still resting on your cheeks, and leaned into it.
kento stared, forehead wrinkling, before he pushed you down to his chest, holding you close. a long inhale breathed deep into his body. “you aren’t any of those things, you know? you’re so lovable. you’re beautiful, caring, intelligent. anything but boring. anything but average.” he ran his fingers up the knots of your spine. “perhaps, i was put on this earth to prove you otherwise.”
you gave him a sad little smile. “you might be working on that for a while, ken.”
"that's okay." he laughed, soft, gently, enough to shake you against his chest before he kissed the top of your head. “that’s what love is, isn’t it? i'm not going to leave when things get tough.”
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beardedjoel · 8 months
Text
pretty little wife | better now
joel miller x f!reader one shot collection
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series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 summary: 3.9k words, a snippet of a day in the life of husband! joel and his lovely housewife | no apocalypse au, no use of y/n warnings: 18+ MDNI! pre-established relationship/dynamic, unprotected piv, rough sex, free use kink, sub/dom relationship, cum play, spit kink, exhibition kink, dirty talk, pet names for reader, brief mention of alcohol, generally extremely submissive reader so if you're into that this is for you! a/n: not pretending this is anything other than some little fantasy i had that i needed to write out. i'm really excited about this one shot series for husband!joel though, i have some really fun (and depraved) ideas planned for these two for future blurbs so stayed tuned if you like this one! reblogs + comments are always loved and appreciated! ♡
i've decided to start a kofi in case anyone wants to consider a small donation to support my work! ♡
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How’s my pretty little wife today?
The words you look forward to each day, falling from your husbands lips in some form or another, whether it’s rasped tenderly in your ear, from between your legs as he smirks up at you, or from over your shoulder as he slams his cock into you, sending you to heaven and back down as soon as he can after walking in the door after work.  
Joel asks the question today after walking up behind you in the backyard, his mouth already next to your ear, warm breath tickling along your skin there as he brushes your hair over your shoulder. The wiry texture of his beard nuzzles right into your neck, sending a thrill down your spine as his arms slide around your waist and hold you tightly to him, swaying you back and forth. The motion is soothing, reminding you that you’re right where you’re meant to be.  
You can smell the workday on him - sweat and dirt and the outdoors, and the lingering scent of the cologne you’d given him this past Christmas. He’d sprayed it on this morning, as he does every morning since you bought it for him. Makes me think of you all day, he’d remind you while you’d watched from your bed with a teasing smile, sheet disheveled and draped over your naked body.
You breathe all of it in, savoring this scent unique to your husband, before touching your hand to where his rests around your belly and stroking it gently.
“Better now,” you answer. More times than not, that’s your response to his routine question, knowing it drives him wild, makes a long day of work ache a little less when he hears you say it.
“S’what I like to hear,” he says, a kiss on your neck leading up to your lips - a long, deep, ravenous kiss that already leaves you breathless. He pulls away so suddenly you nearly have whiplash, your head falling slightly into nothing, missing his lips.
“Smells good out here,” Joel comments, turning his nose up in the air slightly. “Usin’ the new pizza oven already?” 
When you’d made a passing comment about wishing you could make wood fired pizzas at home, just like the ones a restaurant in town serves, Joel seemed to take it seriously, as he did with most things involving your wishes and desires. The next weekend, he’d hauled in bricks and began his work. You’d stepped out into the yard when you heard all the commotion, giving him a quizzical stare, and he’d simply grinned and shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world that he should be building his wife a pizza oven. You’d nearly teared up, feeling grateful and giddy with excitement at your new toy to experiment with. 
Within a few weekends, Joel had finished his new project, always seeming to need one to have around the house, wiping the sweat off his forehead and gleaming with pride at it as he showed you the final product. You’d practically jumped for joy but settled on flinging yourself into his arms to show your appreciation. When that had turned into him fucking you on top of the kitchen counter moments later after he went inside to fetch a cold drink, you hadn’t minded one bit.
“I couldn’t wait,” you say with a grin. When Joel nuzzles your neck again you start to lose your train of thought. His lips press a gentle kiss right on your pulse point, and you sigh into it. “T-trying out margherita today,” you manage to squeak out.
“Hmm,” Joel says, seemingly contemplating the flavor choice in between latching his lips on your neck and sucking, marking you over and over. You’re sure the ones from mere days ago haven’t faded all the way, a smattering of them going right down to your tits, but Joel always needs a fresh mark on you as soon as they start to fade, a way for you to always remember you’re his. He grinds his hard length into your back on the next touch of his lips, and you arch into it a little, your cunt starting to ache more needily for him. 
“F-fresh basil… from the… gar-” you gasp as he pulls you completely flush against his cock, letting out a little, devious laugh.
“Sounds fuckin’ delicious, baby,” he replies. His fingers reach down and toy with the front hem of your dress, delicately sliding his calloused fingers up your thighs, bunching the fabric as he goes. The warmth of his hands on your bare skin blazes a trail up to the apex of your thighs, finally cupping a hand around your warm heat. You instinctively grind into the heel of his hand, and can practically feel Joel smirking behind you. His fingers brush the outside of your panties, starting to rub circles on the wet fabric. He lets out a low growl, deep and needy in the back of his throat feeling the evidence of how much you’d anticipated him coming home. 
“So wet for me already, huh, doll? Couldn’t wait f’me to get home ‘n take care of ya, I bet,” Joel taunts in your ear before sucking on the lobe, and you’ve gone breathless now, nodding your head. His fingers tease the edge of your panties again, finally slipping one underneath the fabric, feeling the obscenity of your wetness directly, and he lets out an impressed tut, sucking in air between his teeth. You nearly moan out at the smallest touch he’s giving you, the way his rough, worn fingers gently brush over your clit for just a split second. 
“She’s so needy, ain’t she?” Joel coos in your ear, swiping a finger to your entrance and back to your clit. You can feel how slickness quickly gathers on Joel’s digits as he teases you. You squeeze your eyes shut and lean back into him, letting your head drop to his shoulder as pleasure wracks your body already.
“Mhm… needs you,” you murmur, turning your head towards his where he meets your lips, continuing steady strokes on your aching bundle of nerves. His lips are softer than you’d think, looking at the hardened grump behind them, but like so many parts of Joel, they are only soft for you.
“Needy, needy girl… good thing I’ve been thinkin’ about gettin’ my cock in that little cunt of yours all day.”
“A-all day?” you say with a little smirk, rutting your ass back into his throbbing length, and Joel groans with the friction.
“Second I pulled out of it this mornin’,” he replies, low voice drumming against your skin, and you shudder, desperate for what you know he’s about to do.
Another routine of yours - Joel comes home from work, and more days than not, he fucks you. And you enjoy every second of it, basking in the attention and his cock filling you up in the way nobody and nothing else can. You crave him night and day, never having gotten your fill, wondering if you ever could. His hunger for you in return only fuels the fire, a vicious circle the two of you seem to have no intention of breaking.
Your weakness lies completely in the man standing behind you, burying his fingers in between your legs and making you moan out wildly before he’s even had his way with you.
“Fuck, gotta get this cock in you, baby, split you open f’me so good, fuck you stupid,” Joel grunts suddenly, interrupting your swirling thoughts, withdrawing his fingers in a flash and leaving you whimpering. It’s not fair, the way he affects you. 
Nobody should have this power over you, but the minute you’d met Joel, you couldn’t deny the way he’d made you feel. Masculine and warm, rough hands and broad shoulders that you’d clung to that same night you’d met him in a bar, fucking mere hours later in the bathroom. Even in your drunken haze you’d submitted to him fully, Joel having no problem ordering and throwing you around the bathroom like you were just a toy to play with, his little doll. You’d found that you could never look back after that night, the safety he represented to you, the adoration he showered you with, the way he fucked you like it was his last time every time. When Joel saw how willing you were to be his in the way he craved from a woman, there was no stopping the insatiable beast he became, hellbent on never letting another man feel your touch again. Joel promised you a good life, an amazing life, even, and in the last few years, he had more than delivered for you. 
“Hush now, you’ll have what you want in a second,” he says, running a quick stroke of his fingers through your hair, giving it a tug. On principle, you let out a little mewl at the sensation, too many instances of your hair being tugged and pulled with Joel involved to not recall those memories with the pain of it. You hear the jangle of his belt as he frees himself from his jeans, the familiar sound of Joel’s thick, heavy cock slapping against his hand as he fists it. You’re already cock drunk without having seen the damn thing yet, and it’s nearly laughable how pliable you are when Joel’s involved. It’s always been that way - you’ve been happy to oblige his every desire, no matter when, where, how he wanted it, or the frequency. You were his to use, to pleasure, to fuck senseless, and you got off on the way all of it steadily built his need for you just as much as it did with your need for him.
“Please…” you whine, trying to slip out of his grasp and start for the sliding glass door to the house, making the assumption that he’d be taking you inside at any moment to take what he needed from you. 
Joel immediately tightens his hold on you, a dark tut in your ear that goes straight to your clit.
“Not so fast, little doll,” he croons, hand grabbing your cunt through your dress again to hold you to him. “Right here,” he adds on, turning your body towards the outdoor dining table in the backyard. 
“J-Joel… right here?” you question, knowing you shouldn’t. It won’t matter anyways. “The… t-the neighbors…” you whimper quietly as Joel crowds you against the table, tearing your dress up over your ass, revealing your lacy little thong to him. He groans at the sight of your bare ass ready for him to claim before roughly shimmying your underwear halfway down your thighs. He places a rough hand on your back, pressing you down into the table so that you’re completely bent over, your hands splaying out into the wood to support yourself. 
“Let them see…” Joel says quietly, a heady murmur as he slips his cock between your thighs and notches himself at your weeping entrance. “Let them see how much I love fuckin’ my wife.” He pushes in on the last sentence, and you gasp at the stretch and burn of his girth. Your vision goes white for a moment with the mix of pure pain and pleasure, and your mouth hangs open, panting in delight as he fills you inch by inch. 
“Mmm… such a sweet little pussy, honey…” Joel says quietly once he’s seated fully inside of you. He’s just as lost in the bliss of it as you are. “Know I’d fuckin’ live right here if I could.”
You give him a little moan of satisfaction, wiggling your hips to give yourself any sensation of movement from his cock. He places his hands on either side of your hips, squeezing his grip tightly enough to bruise before starting to thrust himself into you. You cry out in a yelp, the noise passing though your lips before you can even control it. 
“Yeah…” you whimper, face pressed against the table, trying to peek up as Joel looms above you, like some higher being that has the power to decide your fate, to decide the pleasure or pain you’ll have to endure in this moment. And truthfully, you do worship him. The way he moves inside of you, makes you crumble underneath even the lightest of his touches. The way he spoils you in every regard - you’ve never wanted for a single thing for as long as you’ve been Joel’s, him vowing to take care of everything you ever need, and in return, you take care of everything he needs. 
To some, it might seem like there’s a lack of balance in the way you do things, but fuck do you love it, you think as you desperately cling onto the table, manicured nails digging into the wood as Joel’s cock rams back into you, pressing so deep inside of you that you see stars.
You let out a low, strangled sound, whining as Joel begins to press against your cervix, the front of your thighs bumping into the table with every new thrust from him. He grunts with the exertion, fucking into you hard, taking what he wants, leaving you both breathless with the need for more of each other. You let Joel take and take and take because of how much he gives in return - while he loves to use you, he always makes sure you get every bit of pleasure you deserve for being so good to him.
When you continuously moan louder as Joel fucks you towards your high, you glance around, the small sliver of your brain that’s still rational worried about you two getting caught by your neighbors. The thought is equally mortifying as it is thrilling, but you decide you’d rather not deal with the embarrassment today if you can help it.
“Still worried about the neighbors, hm, pretty girl? I’ve got an idea,” Joel says, responding to your sudden nervousness. Before you can even answer, his hands are wrapping around your shoulders, urging you up from the table. You follow along, breathless and dazed, letting him move you as he wishes, too deliriously starry eyed for him to care about anything else other than what Joel is gearing up to do to you next.
He accidentally slides out with the movement of your body, and immediately he’s grasping at your hips, practically clawing his way back to you as he pulls you tight to his body again. His throbbing, dripping cock slaps periodically against your ass as he shoves you forward, pushing your body towards the house. 
“Here,” he grits out, suddenly crowding your body from behind to press you against the sliding glass door. “That better?”
“I- yes,” you say, eyes wide from the way you’d been roughly handled by him the last few moments. Your cunt aches almost painfully, having been getting so close to your climax only to have it ripped away suddenly when Joel decided to move you.
“Good,” he snips quietly. “Couldn’t stand to keep this cock out of you much longer’n this.”
With his words he brings his lips to the back of your neck again, just his heavy breathing fanning across the skin there, making you wild as he repositions himself and nudges your legs apart with his knee. You feel the length of him tease between your legs, sliding up to your entrance again. He groans loudly, letting you know how badly he wants you, so you try to pop your hips up at just the right angle you know he’s looking for. 
He slides in effortlessly and with a renewed vigor, hips snapping into you, pressing you further into the sliding glass door with neither of you seeming to be worried about the way it’s suddenly shaking on the frame. It’s completely lewd, the way you imagine the two of you - your entire body against glass, tits being pressed out the top of your dress and bouncing, palms spread against the smooth surface, nails clawing and unable to grasp at anything.
Your body is shaking in his hold now, Joel’s cock hitting inside of you in all the right places. You can feel yourself tensing, almost like every cell is going taut, your core pooling heat deep inside of you with molten pleasure from Joel hitting the spongy bit inside of you. 
“Fuck, love it when you sound like that f’me, doll,” Joel punches out as he hears your moans becoming louder and more desperate the longer he continues to thrust against your g-spot. You can’t respond, only continue your lustful noises with a renewed vigor as you try to bounce your hips back into his thrusts, getting him deeper than what’s even possible, the length of him already burying up to the hilt each time he drives himself into you.
“Know you wanna come for me, baby,” he says right in your ear, voice hoarse with need, and you whimper in response as his hand snakes around your hips and in between your legs, circling a gentle pressure on your clit. 
You feel your hold on reality completely break, your eyes squeezing shut as you melt into the way your entire body is tingling with pleasure now, waves of it turning into spasms as you go practically limp with shaky knees. Joel’s hands hold you in place, his warm strength keeping you upright as you push down onto his cock, riding out your climax and screaming for him. 
When your movements start to slow and your body relaxes, Joel thrusts into you even harder, loving the way you’re so compliant and soft after climaxing, letting him move in you however he needs as you ride out the sensitive aftershocks with a few quiet yelps.
“This little pussy is all mine, y’know that, right?” Joel reminds you through clenched teeth, giving your ass a firm slap. You nod vigorously, eyes still half lidded and mind scrambled from the way he’d shattered you mere moments ago.
“Y-yes, Joel,” you say when he slaps your ass again, demanding an answer. Your breathy answer is enough to get him to his own climax, and he surprises you by pulling out suddenly, leaving your body lurching back into nothing, missing the fullness of him already. Before you can protest, say anything, Joel’s hands grip your shoulders and spin you around and push down, forcing you onto your knees in one fluid, swift motion. You watch, wide eyed, as he fists his throbbing cock, shiny and coated in your own slick arousal as he spreads it along his shaft in jerking motions.
“Be a good girl and open up,” he commands, and you submit to the words immediately, mouth hanging open, even sticking your tongue out for good measure. Joel smirks at that before giving himself another swift tug, and you watch in renewed wonder as he begins to spill himself all over your face, ropes of cum hitting your skin. You taste him on your tongue immediately, savoring it. Your eyes are glued up on Joel’s face, watching his glazed gaze taking in the scene below him as he groans in pleasure, trying not to tilt his head back and get lost in the moment so he doesn’t miss a beat of your beautiful surrender to him.
“Fuck,” he mutters as he watches the last bits of his release hit your tongue. “Don’t you dare swallow that, yet, doll,” he adds on quickly, eyes fluttering for a moment before he tucks himself back into his slacks. He continues to tower over you for a prolonged few seconds, looking down in satisfaction at the image of your glowing, angelic face coated in something so sinful, the milky substance starting to drip down your face, your tongue trembling slightly with the need to swallow.
“Hold still,” he says needlessly since as the words come out of his mouth he grabs your chin, tilting your head upwards and gathering spit, letting a long, tortuously slow drip of it fall into your open mouth. It lands on your tongue, combining with his cum and Joel smirks again, releasing your chin.
“Swallow, my little doll,” he says, voice starting to go soft, an indication that he’s feeling satisfied and finished with his enjoyment of you. You close your mouth, smile, and swallow obviously for him, licking your lips for good measure. 
Joel holds out a hand, helping you stand, your legs buckling slightly as you try to get your bearings. He carefully smooths your disheveled dress, flattening the bottom half and tugging the neckline back into place before fixing the straps to sit perfectly square on your shoulders, eyes roaming over quickly to examine his work with pride. His hands then move to your hair, brushing his fingers gently to put it back in its place, leaving every part of you like none of this had just happened besides your face, still dripping with his spill. Your smile widens, seeing him watch a particularly large spot of it sliding down your cheek. You see his composure fail for a moment before he strokes your cheek gently, avoiding any of the mess there, giving you soft, affectionate eyes.
“Good girl,” he says quietly, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Pizza’s probably ready,” he adds on, the casual tone taking you aback for only a moment before you blink yourself back to reality and nod dutifully.
“Of course,” you say, a genuine smile plastered on your face as you look at your handsome husband, admiring the way he’s looking at you with stars dancing across his eyes, the deepest love for you tucked away in his deep brown irises.
“After you get that, go clean yourself up, doll,” he says, and you nod again, the smile not leaving your face. You see out of the corner of your eye Joel settle onto one of the chairs at your outdoor table, leaning back casually as if he hadn’t just had you bent over that exact table, fucking you for the entire neighborhood to possibly see and hear.
You gather everything you need, serving utensils, plates, and two cold beers before bringing it to the table along with the pizza and a freshly tossed salad you’d made to accompany it. Each time you drop something off, the smirk on Joel’s face grows, watching the way you work with the evidence of his obsession with you still lingering on your flushed cheeks.
Once the table is set and your face cleaned off, you join Joel outside to enjoy the beautiful spring evening, and see he’s already served you two generous slices of the margherita pizza. 
He reaches a hand onto the table, taking yours delicately into his palm, dwarfing it with the size of his thick fingers as he absentmindedly runs his thumb along your knuckles, stopping to play with the large, gorgeous diamond on your ring finger. Another reminder to him that he has you all to himself, his pretty little wife.
“Thanks for dinner, baby” he says, eyes locked on yours as he uses a free hand to pick up the pizza and take a large bite, letting out a little noise in satisfaction at the flavor.
“Anytime.” You smile, genuine and tranquil, a fresh appreciation and love for the life you’ve found yourself so grateful to be living.
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tysm to @jupiter-soups @huffle-punk @rensraptor for so much help with ideas and writing this fic! love u guys x
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mxdnightlvers · 1 year
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𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲𓆩♡𓆪
➸ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Sumeru men when they're needy for you <3
➸𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Alhaitham, Scara/Wanderer, Kaveh
➸ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: degradation, overstim, lots of cum, slight dehumanization
➸ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬/𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫: Gender Neutral Pronouns & Reader
➸ 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: omg I swear I need to 'get back in the flow' every time I come back here because my god is uni work killing me, however I do miss writing and sometimes I end up writing when I have chance and voila a full post like this gets completed :D
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𝐀𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦❦
When Alhaitham is needy he turns into a completely different person, the calm, collected persona he usually keeps up slips in almost an instant. Your hands have turned frail, unable to hold yourself upright as Alhaitham keeps you in the perfect place for his cock to reach deep inside you. One placed on your chest, and the other pressed against your lower stomach as he feels every thrust through you. He’s leaning over you, voice brushing so sweetly against your ear, the intensity of his breathing yet the gentleness of his moans flustering you so much that you’re unable to make any sort of eye contact. The way his words flow so perfectly together despite his stuttering as he tells you he’s going to cum again. He doesn't stop for even a moment, even after he's already cum, he continues to fuck you because god- he cannot get enough of you and how good you feel. He’s too needy, the warmth and desire he feels seems to never run out. Using your pretty body to his satisfaction, fucking you how fast he wants, how much he wants, and cumming inside you as many times as he wants.
You’re overstimulated, unable to barely think- to barely speak. But oh, how he loves seeing you like this for him. “You can cum for me again right sweetheart?” He doesn’t expect a response, simply satisfied by your flustered yet failed attempt at an answer. Flipping you on your back so he has even more access to your body. Leaving hickeys wherever he pleases as he brings you to yet another orgasm. You're practically filled to the brim with cum, the white liquid leaking down your thighs and onto the bed, even on your stomach because Alhaitham couldn't keep his messy, needy hands off you. As your breathing finally slows down and you feel your sense of clarity being regained, you feel his cock move in you once more, "I'm not finished with you yet sweetheart." <3
𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚❦
He gets even more demanding when he's needy. Having you down on your knees and shoving his cock inside your mouth, enjoying the tears welling up in your eyes as he forces himself down your throat. Pulling you off him and guiding your head to drag your tongue along his cock, tracing his most sensitive- and favorite places. When he's satisfied with that he shoves his entire cock down your throat once more, his head thrown back as he uses your mouth like a fleshlight, a low, sadistic laugh emerging when he looks down at your pathetic form. "You enjoy being used like this don't you slut?" You'd love to answer him if only your mouth wasn't filled with his cock. He chuckles, holding your hair tighter to keep you in place, "Yeah that's right- you belong on my cock like the pathetic whore you are." His words alone have you rubbing your thighs together for some form of friction.
His soft mewls slowly become louder and whinier as he fucks your mouth faster, pulling and tugging at your hair when he finally cums. There is simply so much that his cum ends up spilling and dripping down the corners of your mouth. He gently wipes it off, his fingers tracing your lips before forcing them past your lips and into your mouth. "Such a messy little thing aren't you?" A sweetly condescending tone as he watches you lick his fingers clean. When you're done, he leans back and pats his lap, signaling you to get on top of him. You're on him in an instant, desperate to feel him inside you. "You're gonna ride me til I'm satisfied slut." <3
𝐊𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐡❦ (𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯 𝐛𝐨𝐲 <3)
He's so pathetic and whiny when he's needy! His hands could barely keep to themselves, holding onto your shirt or waist, anything he can reach. Soft whines when you pull away a little too far, flushed cheeks swollen as he pouts, pleading eyes peeking through his messy blonde hair- it's such an adoring sight to see the Kshahrewar student so cute and needy for you. But can you blame him though, he just wants you as close to him as possible! You're so painfully slow with your traces around his cock that he's resisting the urge to fuck into your hands like a bitch in heat. But no, he will let you have your way with him, even if it meant that every feathered touch of yours made him more sensitive.
He's already a moaning mess the moment you decide to get on top of him, words completely incomprehensible. The only intelligible ones are soft broken whines of "please" over and over and over. "P-please....don't stop- please you feel so good don't stop.." His voice is shaky, if it wasn't for his stained cheeks you'd be surprised he's crying. It just feels so good, overwhelmed with pure lust for you. Slender hands leaving small imprints on your hips as he tightens his grip on you. His pretty moans growing louder as he nears his orgasm. Unable to stay quiet as he feels you tighten around his cock. Dazed ruby eyes look up at you, struggling to stay open, on the verge of falling asleep and you decide to give him a break. "mmm noo..." soft pleas beg you to come closer as he holds your waist in place, "please...fuck me again." <3
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