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#this is the type of relationship that i yearn for
krashoutluv · 22 hours
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what do u think ak!jays love language (i think that’s what it’s called 😭) is? also, what type of love language do you think he’d like?? like acts of service, words of affirmation, etc.
also random headcanon but i feel like both ak and comic jay r both good cooks it’s just the vibe i get
-🪽anon
Ahkendidhso Ive written about this before but my brainrot my lovely 🪽 anon…
tw; religious themes but their very very very super metaphorical i pinky swear chat. #i love religious themes as a way to metaphorically talk about devotion
Jason Todd is as devoted to his lover as a martyr to their grace. His faith to his loved one is almost insufferable at its core.
Like in a,’ My lungs only breathe because I have faith in your purity. ’ way, so anyways yeah Quality Time and Acts Of Service.
Quality Time- Jaaon can barely pry himself from your presence at times, and yet he does. Though every moment he’s away from you feels sardonic, like that viscous black ooze that he’s named ‘hate’ is getting bigger. Once he even gets a moment of your time his mind melts. He slowly allows himself to indulge in your presence, but in the most unhealthy way possible. Jason tried to keep himself away, he really did, but he always found his feet dragging to you.
Maybe its the little sacrificial lamb in him, the yearn for a greater good in his destruction. Thats what he believe he was conditioned to be, ’The Greater Good.’ Batman cleaned him from the dirt-stricken filth of Gotham alleyways; Batman would make his coat pure and holy, he learned to achieve that ‘Greater-Good’ when Batman wrapper that rope around his neck and lead him to that devil, or saint, he couldn’t tell the two apart sometimes. They both look the same as his depraved reflection.
When his red branded rebirth came he couldn’t help himself trotting to you like the holy little lamb he was conditioned to be. You, the only compass he had, a sense of direction he couldn’t bear to lose. He sits in your presence waiting for his rapture. When not, he’s stuck in a state where can’t tell if he’s more scared of being lost or alone. Jason finds he’s neither when with you, with you he’s stained red but his neck is no longer painfully warm, his body can be mangled, his mind can be mortal. He always trots back to you, because it is the first place he is welcomed to with open arms, yes, you are the warm light of the heavens he was conditioned to bask in. The personification where the death of his self is meant to be.
Acts Of Service - I believe this side of him comes more when its towards the part of the relationship where he’s most comfortable! He’ll run errands, do your dishes, maybe if the guilt of getting your floor a little bloodied gets to him he’ll pay your rent. It takes him awhile to loosen up and stop acting like a house maid. He still does everything he can for you but in an mundane way, like a little routine. (like a little wife omg chat i love him)
Whenever he slips through that window he takes armor off and sets them down on your floor. He’ll walk over to where you sit and kiss you on the cheek, whispering in your ear on how he ordered take out. He’ll come back to you with clean clothes and washed hair, sitting close to you, yet not closer if not allowed.
He’s much like a Saint Bernard now, for he always finds his way back to your side. A gentle giant, neither of you can keep yourselves away from each other; tenderly caring for each others needs. With you, he gave up on his divided sense of pride, his fundamentals and foundations that gave his name meaning were reckoned meaningless, he gave it up and swallowed the bitter pill of which he found the unsatisfactory taste of forgiveness; and with that pill he allowed himself to grieve.
He’s much like a Saint Bernard now, he can guide people to the place they believe to be heavens for their sake of peace. He holds someone in his arms the way they need to be held, he says those things that make someone think, leading them back to the path they left. But most of all he always comes running back to you.
sorry chat this is so bitter sweet i love his self destructive mentality that would take him decades to weed out.
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tikay21 · 1 day
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🐺Dominic St. Clair
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applicant for Yasmines Desire BC by @aniraklova
age: 35
character: mysterious, calculating, aloof
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Dominic St. Clair, known in the gambling scene as "The Count," is a legend in the world of poker. He possesses a sharp mind and his approach to poker is deeply analytical. He constantly evaluates probabilities and reads his opponents with precision. Dominic's reputation precedes him and make him a feared opponent at any poker table simply by his presence.
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Even in the most intense situations, "The Count" remains calm and focused, without letting his emotions take over. Although he's not afraid to take calculated risks, each of his moves is carefully planned and executed to maximize his chances of success.
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His skills regularly crash the cash registers of casinos, making him an unwelcome guest and his life not entirely safe; there are said to have been attempts to eliminate him. Dominic is one of the wealthiest men around, and evidently, he has the means to keep certain individuals at bay. Unobtrusively, security always surrounds him.
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Although he is a wealthy man, it is unclear whether "The Count" has acquired his wealth solely through poker or if there are other secret sources of his fortune. He is a master at shielding his private life and concealing his true self from the world.
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Beyond his unpredictable appearances in casinos, Dominic lives secluded from the public eye. Whether he has friends or family is unknown. Speculations and rumors about his past and living circumstances are widespread, but he doesn't let anyone peek into his cards.
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What prompts Dominic to suddenly step into the public eye and sign up for a Bachelorette show, stirring up rumors? Is he looking to redefine his image or bring a touch of normality into his life? Does he feel lonely in his reclusive lifestyle and yearn for human connection or a romantic relationship? Could he be seeking an authentic relationship untainted by his wealth or reputation as a gambling genius?
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Might this show, of all things, offer him a chance to meet someone who appreciates him for his true self, beyond his secrets and his reputation? Dominic isn't the type to follow conventional paths; he's unpredictable, so let the games begin ...
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more info under the cut > likes / dislikes
Likes
colors: black - white
music: classical - new age - metal - world - soul
characteristics: hard working - homebody - cerebral
conversation: stories - intimacy - deception - interests
fashion: preppy - polished - hipster - rocker
activities: fitness - research - violin - piano - climbing - cooking - riding - skiing - snowboarding - writing - wellness
deco: industrial - island - vintage - contemporary - modern
Dislikes
colors: yellow
characteristics: egoistical - pesssimistic - argumentative - ambitionsless
conversation: silly - potty humor - smalltalk - gossip
fashion: boho
activities: comedy - mischief - video gaming
deco: cosmolux - cute - shabby
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privat DL if chosen
I had the idea for this character a long time ago as a call for a challenge theme (make an arrogant sim) and even created a sim for it, but I never actually played it out. Here, the character concept gets a new face, and I'm curious about what's to come - or what's not.
thanks @ all creators, posemaker and builders
(even those I can`t makeout here)
builds - Casino by EA ID: ameliejo111
Villa by EA ID: marmeladart
CC by @kijiko-sims @pralinesims @magic-bot @wistfulpoltergeist @sclub-privee @creamlattedream @nesurii @luumia @simdulgencemods @northernsiberiawinds @johnnysimmer @micklayne @darte77 @beto-ae0 @birba32 @pictureamoebae @christopher067 @jius-sims @mercisims @lorisims
poses by @helgatisha - @katverse - lostsouls
Sim by @tikay21
thanks for your support by doing this @xshinx86
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scionshtola · 7 days
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daydreaming about cori and shtola have a little fling in ARR that ends bc shtola has Feelings and is freaked out by the fact that cori might reciprocate those feelings…but then cori becomes her one that got away…as a little treat. for me.
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spotsupstuff · 10 months
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witness my vision of what a sexual relationship should have for the very base without going nsfw. my pinky yelled at me for this.
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wane-and-wax · 6 months
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You know what? Fuck it. I spent so much of my life trying to be cool and making myself and my love smaller I’m over it.
Give me lingering touches in front of friends and family members. Give me matching social media bios. Give me private jokes that no else understands but makes both of you lose your minds. Give me quiet nights in where you both bake and watch a cheesy, terrible movie. Give me decorating for every holiday of the year. Give me grocery store flowers. Give me kitchen dance parties. Give me pillow fights. Give me holding hands while walking down the street. Give me singing and dancing in the car.
Give me a love so quiet it’s loud at the same time.
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agentmmayy · 2 years
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september rotation
this was an interesting month for music! i didn’t discover as many new songs as i usually do or typically put on here, but these are my top picks for the month 
mushroom punch - zella day: zella day is on the fast track to be coming my new favorite artist bc this is a banger that’s equally as arresting as radio silence. just as punchy as the title suggests. it begs to be sung along to  
cyclone - maude lateur: the beat!!!!!!!!! absolutely a sad twerking song. it’s about realizing the self-destruction of past relationships with the beautiful comparison to a hurricane (...to soon?) it includes the build-up to expecting a disaster and the excitement buried beneath fear it incites and the heart-breaking devastation that follows
take off - prinze george: i’ve had this song stuck in my head for days and for good reason. ABSOLUTE banger. it’s selfish and greedy and all consuming in the way love is sometimes 
close to you - the wildlife: @majicmarker introduced me to this song and i haven’t recovered since. it has me down SO BAD i’m writing a whole ass fic. the eddissy vibes are off the charts and the lyrics ‘push your hands against the wall, kissing in the bathroom stall’ produced a very whoreish reaction from me ngl
lonely - ladyhawke: the yearning here... coupled with the haunting and harrowing vocals... contrasting the hopeful tone with the “hopeless” “other” in the song... the repetition of ‘run’ and ‘running’... all accumulates into this heavyhearted masterpiece that has me laying in bed and crying to. also the cover art fucks
graduating - nell mescal: oh this song... whew. it’s bittersweet. i know i describe a lot of songs on here as melancholic but this fits it to a tee. it’s also angry and hurting. like poking at a fresh bruise or an open wound. you want to heal but can’t do that without aggravating the pain, whether purposefully or not 
i wanna - ella jane: back again with the yearning! i had to google what the artist says about this song and she describes it as coming from being fed up with being single and admitting to wanting to be in love as such a vulnerable and honest and even embarrassing place and describes the chorus as “empowering” which i completely agree with. 
i WILL, however, debate with the interviewer of the article where they say the song “felt like they were in a coming-of-age film.” i wouldn’t definitively categorize this song as “coming-of-age” though i can see how it can be seen as such. it’s just not letting it live to its full potential. it’s a disservice. falling in love or realizing you want to be in love and be in a relationship isn’t limited to the ages between childhood/adolescence/adulthood. love can be found at any age! BUT i am also not trying to make this song inaccessible to people who are at that age (since ella jane is a young adult and wrote this song recently) and could benefit from hearing it
coolest fucking bitch in town - haley blais: already poured out the majority of my thoughts on this song to @152glasslippers whose tags introduced me to it and WOW. mind = blown. it’s nothing like i expected from the title and openly admit i was humbled right from the start. it’s soft yet still unapologetic and cathartic. i’ve been thinking about those trumpets ever since yesterday
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earl-grey-love · 1 year
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I have such odd yearning dreams about Toby. I've had a few where I'm at a party and I spend the whole time trying to get his attention, and failing. At least til I pull him aside and ask him to pay attention to me.
And last night I left a party in my dream that had absolutely nothing to do with him, and I was sad after cus he wasn't there and I missed him? Like girl get a grip what is happening!
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cabinofimagines · 1 year
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Okay, wow, I was just trying to make a slight joke about being single (I’m the almost 19 Anon) and that turned into a whole lot. Sorry, I didn’t expect it to cause all of that.
It's alright!
Honestly, it's hard for us to read when you guys are being serious or not, I feel it's like my responsability as one of the eldest admins here not to encourage that way of thinking specially when there's like a whole spectrum out there and kids that are trying to figure out themselves can feel bad if they read those asks and assume there's something wrong with them for not wanting/having a partner
But it was honestly not your fault, I could've answered in a more clear way "hey that's a bit graphic but thank u for sending support" and instead I also replied with sarcasm or whatever u wanna call it
But the point is none of us is perfect and we're definitely not meant to be the same as everyone else so really don't feel bad, just now u know that in the future is better to not make jokes that could potentially hurt others :)
-Danny
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louisprideflag · 10 months
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fangswbenefits · 4 months
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Trance
Summary: Astarion is having a hard time trancing, and you offer to help him out in more ways than one.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Cockwarming. Body worship. Sub Astarion (if you squint). Breast play. Precum.
Word count: 2.1k
Astarion was restless.
You could see it clearly from the way he was pacing near his tent, not once stepping inside.
It was odd and unusual even though elves were known to only need a few hours of trancing to replenish their vigour.
Still, you figured maybe you should intervene.
“Astarion?”
You made sure your voice was loud enough for him to hear you from across the camp without sounding too alarm to wake the others.
It was enough to stir his attention, and he stopped in his tracks for a brief moment, before rounding the campfire, as he made his way towards you.
He looked positively drained when you crawled out through the opening of your tent, sitting on the carpeted floor.
“You look awful.”
He scoffed. “I'm quite sure I look far better than you, darling.”
You smiled warmly, knowing fully well it was just his automatic response to being teased.
“Well, what is it? Did you call me here to gawk?”
Astarion had this terrible habit of behaving like a temperamental cat that would make it everyone's problem if any minor inconvenience was thrown at them.
“You can't trace, can you?”
He crossed his arms. “I'm fine.”
Your smile parted your lips. “No need to get defensive, you big cat.”
That disarmed him only slightly.
He dropped his arms, but now held a deep scowl on his handsome face. “I fail to see how you can help out.”
The nature of your relationship with Astarion had longed moved from being merely a forced partnership between two strangers.
He had bedded you more than once and had poured his heart out even against his better judgement.
If there was someone who could help him out, it was you.
Lovers helped each other in various ways.
And he knew it, but his pride and reluctance to show vulnerability often got in the way.
Luckily for him, you had an idea of what could be useful in this case.
You stared down at your shirt and began to undo the top buttons in a very nonchalant way.
Astarion immediately rushed to you, crouching. “What are you doing?”
“This has helped before, right?”
His eyes widened at your silent proposal, but he didn't deny it. How could he? He adored your breasts way too much to turn away such an invitation.
“Are you offering to do it here, though?” he asked with an amused click of his tongue. “I didn't peg you for the exhibitionist type, darling.”
Heat rushed to your cheeks from his cheeky taunt, and you stopped halfway, realising it was enough to offer him a decent view of your chest.
And just like clockwork, Astarion's smugness began to slip as his lips parted in defeat.
It was rather easy to fully disarm him this way.
As such, you rose to your feet and walked back inside with him hurriedly following you, as you untied the strings that held the flaps apart.
You were covered when it came to visual privacy, but the two of you were known to get quite loud at times.
As you sat down on your bedroll, you tilted your head, gaze landing on his lower half.
“Maybe you should undo them.”
He glanced down. “Right.”
Honestly, he didn't have much of a choice. He always got too hard from this, and you wanted to pre-emptively ensure he was as comfortable as possible.
You watched as he tugged at the lacing of his trousers, making room for his cock to grow and thicken freely.
The entire act could be regarded as you merely taking care of him in time of need. 
Its foundation wasn't inherently sexual.
However…
 … it was rather difficult to ignore the rising throb in between your legs.
As much as he adored suckling on your nipples, your yearning for him nearly matched his adoration.
You moved to lay on your side, allowing your breasts to spill out from the shirt, nipples already hardening from the shift in temperature and state of arousal.
In the dark, you were able to spot his crimson eyes glinting briefly as he took the place next to you.
For a few seconds, you simply gaze into each other's eyes in silence.
He was visibly tired.
He needed to trance.
He needed to find comfort.
He needed you.
“Is there something troubling you?” you asked softly.
He snickered. “Besides the worm swimming about in my head?”
You nodded as he shifted closer to you, his cool hand at your hip.
You shivered.
But it was the good kind of shivers.
The type to swell your clit and quicken your heartbeat.
“Darling, we'd be up all night, and I really need the rest.”
Fair enough.
Some forms of distress were better handled this way.
You almost gasped as his hand moved to one breast, caressing the hardened nipple.
“Do you want me pressed up against you?”
Your heart skipped a beat and you pressed your thighs together in reflex.
Gods.
“Do you want to?” you retorted before your voice could crack under the weight of impeding lust.
He shifted even closer, as he squeezed your breast softly im a silent warning.
“I asked you a question.”
It wouldn't take long for you to soak through your undergarments and trousers.
Even though he was clearly exhausted, Astarion adored having you use your words to fuel his own arousal.
“Yes… I think I prefer it.”
This time, you did gasp when he began tracing circles around your nipple with the pad of his thumb.
“And why is that, my sweet?”
He was relentless and you were too transfixed to fight back.
“I enjoy how it feels…” you whispered.
His crotch was now too close to your own and you could feel your clit pulsing evenly from his taunting words.
“And what is it that you enjoy?”
You swallowed, pushing your hips into him. “I enjoy feeling you getting harder and harder…”
And Astarion groaned.
“You're too much of a tease,” he said before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You'd have me unravel with just words.”
You chuckled through the heavy haze of lust that pooled in your throat. “Likewise.”
He was already hardening against you. You could feel his cock twitch and you could tell he was fighting back the primal urge to roll his hips.
But now wasn't the time.
He needed something else.
His agile fingers kept teasing your nipple, drawing soft whimpers from you.
“I wonder how swollen your clit is for me,” he teased.
But before he could continue, you clicked your tongue. “You talk too much.”
And you moved until you were able to line your breast with his mouth.
His hand immediately dropped and you seized the moment to shove your nipple against his lips, which he promptly parted, welcoming it inside his mouth.
And then he latched beautifully around it..
The most effective way to silence Astarion was to keep his mouth busy.
Your back arched reflexively, as he began to suckle eagerly, hips still flushed against you.
It was hard to keep your thoughts straight from the sight of him hollowing his cheeks with each tug.
You raked your fingers along his soft curls, silently praising him.
His eyes fluttered shut and with an instinctive roll of his hips, you realised just how hard he already was.
It was almost embarrassing how soaked your were for him and how much your body yearned for his cock to be buried deep inside you.
“You're such a good boy…” you found yourself saying before you could think twice.
Astarion was addicted to praise, especially when it came from you.
So, naturally, he moaned in approval.
He looked positively ethereal from this position, completely drunk in you as comfort took over.
But he suddenly pulled away, half-hooded eyes meeting yours. “Call me that again. Please.”
He sounded… desperate.
Oh? This was new.
“And why is that?” you feigned ignorance, caressing his scalp.
He didn't enjoy having his own method of seduction being turned on him, but he was the needy one in this situation.
And so he begged.
“Please… it felt good.”
His twitching cock was proof enough of it.
You glanced at your nipple that was now swollen from his suckling.
“Come here,” you cooed, guiding it into his mouth once again, “and be a good boy.”
“Gods above…” he growled before latching, his hand snaking behing your back and pulling you harder against him.
At this point, you were beginning to wonder if his need to rest hadn't been shoved to the back of his mind.
He seemed way too alert for someone who intended on trancing.
But the answer came soon enough when he let go of your nipple once more.
“Turn around.”
You arched an eyebrow. “Why?”
There was hunger in his eyes. “I need to be inside you.”
It seemed that his submission had been short-lived, and he was once again taking control.
“Are you sure? You ought to rest,” you said, biting your lip and trying your best to ignore the gush of wetness that spilled from you as you clenched.
“I will rest once I'm inside you.”
He seemed determined enough with a sliver of despair dripping from his voice.
You weren't sure this would have the desired effect he sought, but you longed to be filled with him.
Dexterity was what he excelled at, and he swiftly helped you out of your trousers, baring you fully to his gaze.
You could feel your wetness coating your folds as your clit peeked between them, throbbing rhythmically.
A whimper escaped your throat.
A shiver ran down your spine as his fingers parted your folds, so he could stare in awe at how swollen your clit was.
He licked his lips.
“Turn around, darling. Allow me to feel just how warm and wet you are.”
You clenched before doing what you were told, rolling on your other side.
The cool tip of his cock nudged against your backside, smearing precum as he adjusted his position.
You arched into him, parting your legs just enough and bracing yourself for how you'd be struggling at first, even though you were drenched. 
His hand you leg high enough for him to be able to angle himself at your entrance.
You bit your lip and fisted the blanket under you.
His lips were at your ear. “I'll go slow.”
Well, he had to.
There was no other–
He rolled his hips and the tip began to stretch you, causing any coherent thoughts to be put on hold.
Gods… why does he have to be so thick…
“Clenching won't help… you know this by now,” he groaned in your ear, struggling to push along your tightening walls.
You couldn't help but to clench.
It was your own body's way of setting the pace.
“Let me sink fully into you.”
You moaned as he went on, and you placed your hand in between your legs, fingers finding his cock just so you could feel how much it was left for him to slide inside. 
He chuckled. “You adore doing that, don't you? Feeling how hard I am for you as you take me.”
You mewled a reply, keeping yourself from clenching as he sank until you felt his heavy balls against the tips of your fingers.
A sigh of relief escaped your lips as stilled.
“Such a good girl.” he praised, planting a kiss below your ear.
You caressed his balls, the motion causing the heel of your hand to rub against your clit.
You shuddered as he growled.
The difference in temperature would soon be forgotten as your heat enveloped his cock.
But Astarion had seemingly stilled for good.
He let go of your leg, allowing you to press your thighs together, as he wrapped his arm around you, hand settling in between your heaving breasts.
“Are you sure you can trance like this?” you asked, removing your own hand from between your legs.
His lips moved to the side of your neck. “I've been meaning to try this for too long. You're so warm… so tight…”
You clenched involuntarily around him.
“I know you crave my seed, but we should rest,” he said, sounding quite drowsy.
You wanted nothing more than to be filled to the brim with his cum, but that would have to wait.
The clenches were now sparse and far in between as you got used to the prospect of falling asleep with his cock stuffed inside you.
He was probably leaking insane amounts of precum, and that did put a smile on your face.
His cock twitched a few times more, before fully stilling, but as hard as ever.
“Astarion?” you whispered.
His head had slumped behind yours, and he seemed to have drifted off into the early beginnings of his trance.
Your clit was still swollen and begging for attention, but you were willing to sacrifice that if it meant falling asleep this way.
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shadesoflsk · 2 months
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THE OLD WAY
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pairing: Leon Kennedy x fem reader
summary: Living at a farm and being married surely has it perks. However, Leon can't help but think something is missing.
warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (fem receiving) p in v, mating press (??), creampie, breeding kink, outdoor sex, age gap (unspecified), established relationship, fluff, Leon is so husband in this, mentions of pregnancy, domestic bliss.
word count: 4k
author's note: Hello! I had this fic in my drafts for sooo long. I was kind of ashamed to post this since it's not my usual type of content but !!! fuck it !! Ovulation goes brrr. I hope you all like it!I had an older Leon in mind but I used a re6 leon pic for funsies. (And please... don't judge the lack of creativity in my title... I didn't know what to write.)
MY MASTERLIST
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City life was no longer fitting for a man like him. Job was not the same and he was afraid he might not get up from one of his falls one day. Joints no longer worked like they used to, a painful reminder of how his age was getting to him.
That's why he chose to retire, rather early for the average citizen. But he believes his position as a federal agent has aged him to the point where he could easily describe himself as an 80 years old man who needed help crouching down.
With that in mind, he wasted no time buying a home away from civilization. Money was no problem and owning a ranch now sounded like the best idea he could come up with. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Time seemed to flow faster as he settled down in a peaceful lifestyle.
Solitude was very much welcomed. The sounds of blood dripping and ragged screams were replaced by the soft pitty patter of the rain and the usual rooster’s crow each morning, announcing a new day. 
But, as much as he has grown to love and appreciate his simplistic routine, the monotonous daily work and the lack of companionship were hitting him hard. When night came and his thoughts clouded his rational side, he yearned for a change in his life. He was never the romantic type, never been. His previous job as an agent cut off any possibilities of having a partner and settling down like any normal person would. But years made him a sappy man, it seemed.
Life works in mysterious ways, though. He wouldn’t have thought that farm life would bring him a sweet thing like you. It all started with your car breaking down a few meters away from his farm. You wanted to thank him for his help, there was no way you would simply express your gratitude through words, not after his assistance. 
So, your first visit consisted of a home-baked pie which he reluctantly accepted. Not because he didn’t want to but it had been a while since he was last gifted something. That first meeting soon turned into a couple until you were basically there every day. 
“Stay with me,” shifted into a “Be my girlfriend” and therefore the “Marry me?” finally came. 
You were the best thing that has ever happened in his life, a peaceful life away from any danger the city may bring and a beautiful wife by his side? God granted him the most perfect miracle ever. 
He followed the milestones of your relationship to a T. Even though the lack of knowledge was sometimes obvious, he knew the basics of how to keep a girl—his girl— happy. It was in his nature to provide, and living with you meant no exception. 
He always strived to do better, to be better. Your needs were always met and he took pride in knowing he was your husband. No one else but him. 
However, he felt selfish when none of that actually fulfilled him. He was happy with you, don’t get him wrong. Nothing was like before when he thought he would die alone with no one who cared about him. But something in the back of his mind kept bothering him.
And ever since he realized something was missing, he couldn't help but try to find out what it was. 
For days and weeks, he tried picturing the change both of you needed. More pets? You had enough with the dog you both have. Vacations? He had already taken you to the beach. More space in your home? The house at the farm was alright… Maybe a little too big for just the two of you.
Oh.
Oh…
The problem was the two of you. Or rather, being just the two of you on this big ranch. 
He had come to realize that he could, in fact, dream bigger. A few years ago, he would have thought that being married was a faraway dream, unachievable and stupid. But now he’s a husband and maybe if he tries hard enough, he can get to be a family man.
However, nobody has taught him how to face these types of situations. Even when he asked you to be his wife, he needed months of preparation. How was he going to explain this desire to put a baby in you? 
On one peaceful night, he was spooning you as always. It was his favorite activity after taking care of his chores at the farm (and even doing some of yours just so you could relax more). But even when there was nothing but a comforting silence, his thoughts wouldn’t stop flooding his mind. 
He let one of his hands rest on your abdomen, caressing the skin there with circular motions. He tried closing his eyes to prevent more of those thoughts from coming to his mind yet it was useless. His imagination was running wild when he pictured you carrying a life in your belly, swollen and round, the perfect scenario.
He imagined taking care of you. Of course, his pretty wife won’t do anything if she’s next to him. There was no way he wouldn’t take that opportunity to show her how much of a man, a good man he was. 
Pressing a kiss to your cheek as he rested behind you, he spoke before even thinking what he was supposed to say.
“You would be a good mom, you know?” It slipped out of his mouth, he should’ve used a more discreet way of speaking his mind. Now it was too late to draw back.
“What?” You chuckled as you turned your head to look at Leon. “I’d look great as a mom?” 
“Yeah.” He whispered, finally admitting his desire to have a family. “What do you think?”
He wouldn’t push the matter if you don’t feel the same. As much as he loved the idea of having mini versions of both of you, there was no way he would force you to do it. 
“Mhm… I think you’d also be a great dad.” Your voice was as soft as his, indulging in this little moment of intimacy and raw honesty. 
The word dad rings in his mind. His life before having his ranch was violence-filled, then years of solitude surrounded by nothing but nature cornered him to think that being alone was his destiny. Now, you brought him a newfound desire to come back home and finding you and your child. A family.
“You think so?” 
“Absolutely.”
Leon had a silly smile formed on his face. His dreams were actually achievable and domesticity and tranquility were now his everyday life.
“We can try if you want.” You added, feeling how Leon continued drawing shapes on your stomach. “How many would you like?”
Leon didn’t think he would get this far. 
“Want me to be honest?” Leon’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t mind having an entire football team with you.” He joked, hearing how you gasped in response.
“Leon!” You slapped his hand out of your abdomen. “I’m the one having them!” 
Both of you laughed as the night embraced both of you like a blanket. Confessions have never been so much welcomed as tonight’s. 
“I love you.” He murmured as his eyes closed. It was a reassurance that whatever life had in store for both of you, he would gladly accept it.
“I love you more.” You replied with the same fondness as always. Drifting off to sleep was easier than ever.
-
Days passed and the conversation wasn’t forgotten. Nonetheless, you let the flow of time and life decide for both of you.
Daily chores needed to be completed no matter what. So, he’s now washing his hands after feeding the horses. You’re holding the garden hose which makes a wet mess given the force of the water. 
“Didn’t know it was raining.” Leon jokes as the water soaks his shirt and pants. 
“Shit, sorry.” You turn off the garden hose as you giggle watching how drenched Leon looks. 
And while you are genuinely sorry since Leon still has things to do on the farm, you can’t help but appreciate the image your husband is offering. White shirt now see-through, giving you the perfect view of his soft abdomen clinging to the fabric.
When you first met Leon, he had told you what an amazing body he had. With so much pride, he once showed you pictures of his past self. Images of a toned torso and strong arms would look appealing to your eyes. But each time Leon and you are intimate, you get to feel his slightly rounder belly pressed against you, his strong arms clinging to you. In those moments you can’t help but thank God for the gorgeous man you have. 
“Enjoying the view?” Leon breaks the silence when he feels your eyes not leaving his body. 
“Maybe…” You quietly whisper as you drop the hose and walk closer to him. “Can’t help it, my husband is so handsome.” You add, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Inevitably, you inhaled the scent you have grown to love. 
For a moment, you stay there, just drowning in the affection letting your hands rest on his sides unaware of how Leon could feel the slight friction of your breasts against his soaked shirt. The thin fabric of your dress does a poor job of preventing Leon’s hands from wandering around your body. 
A pool of arousal starts setting in Leon as he reaches your ass and gives it a firm squeeze.
With one swift and smooth move, he lifts you off the ground. Your feet are no longer touching the floor as Leon walks away from the barn. And, as if on command, you wrap your legs around his torso, allowing him to walk easier to whatever destination he had in mind.
For once, Leon hates the fact that he owns a big ass farm. His place is a bit far away from the barn, so his decisions are fogged by the desire and neediness he is feeling at the moment. Years in solitude led him to think he was imponent but with the way his jeans seem to get tighter each time your lower half brushes against his, he knows it's not true.
He is a gentleman, don’t get him wrong. He’d have picked you up and carried you to his bedroom as usual, laid you on the bed, taken off your clothes, and fucked you gently (or rough) like he usually did. However, a newfound wish piqued his interest, and even though you're in a secluded area, he wishes everyone would know what pretty girl he got.
Without further thinking and no complaints made, he places you down on the grass. The sensation of the blades tickling your skin is, in a way, bothersome, but your brain is easily turned into mush every time Leon dares to touch you.
Leon, however, wouldn’t allow you to feel any discomfort. His sun-kissed skin would be exposed in swift motion as he takes off his wet shirt. Those antagonizing seconds of admiring him unbuttoning the fabric push you to press your thighs together, seeking any type of release or mere pleasure.
“Up,” And after those endless seconds of him taking off his shirt, his hand taps your hip, motioning you to lift the lower half of your body for him to lay his shirt there. Giving no second thoughts, you raise your rear, pathetically quick, and Leon notices. “So needy, have I been slacking off?”
And his tone gives him away. He is looking forward to letting nature be the witness of your lustful acts. The sun being your light and the grass your makeshift bed. His body embraces the position on top of you.
“Of course I have.” He cooes, bringing his face lower and lower before pressing his cheek against your inner thigh. His stubble resembles sandpaper with how it scratches your skin, but at this point, it brings more pleasure than annoyance. “Look at her, already crying for me.”
His breath tickles the middle area between your legs. The wet spot in your panties is obvious to Leon who wastes no time to bring up that fact. And you want to thank yourself for choosing a dress today because there is no way you could do anything besides laying on the grass and letting Leon treat you so nicely and tenderly.
“How could I?” He hums against the soaked patch of the fabric. “Been neglecting my pretty girl.” He presses a kiss on your clothed area, dragging down the anticipated pleasure you’re looking for. 
“Mhm… please.” Your babbles gain a chuckle out of Leon’s lips. He is enjoying the whole setting, he wouldn’t have known he had a thing for outdoor sex but then again, he loves discovering new things with you. 
Antagonistically, he lifts your dress until it reaches your abdomen and exposes your lower half.
And finally, his fingers hook around the sides of your panties, yanking down the fabric, allowing himself to admire the way he has made a mess of you already. 
As always, he was ready for his favorite meal in the whole world.
Lying on his stomach, he props up on his elbows, his mouth dives into your pussy as his tongue laps at your clit. A moan escapes your lips as the sensation of being eaten out by Leon floods your mind and soul. 
He feasts like a starved man, like he is eating his favorite dessert. He delves into your aching hole, his tongue tasting the sweet and well-known flavor of your juices. He brings your legs over his shoulders, propping you to raise your lower half and reach even deeper. 
“Shit,” Your fingers tangle in his dirty blond hair, shoving his face into your cunt. His lips suck your clit, paying close attention to that part, drawing moans and whines out of you. 
A plethora of names are being said as Leon continues being trapped between your thighs. He flicks his tongue while he feels how some of your slick drips to his stubble. And with the way your legs squeeze him even tighter, he can already guess you’re feeling so much pleasure from his tongue alone.
You arch your back, trying to bring him even closer to your core. The wet noises of his saliva and your slick mix with the outdoor ones. The soft rustling of the trees’ leaves and the birds chirping are a reminder of the scenario you both are in.
Whimpers leave your lips as Leon's tongue makes out with your cunt. Your fingers grip the shirt Leon placed as a makeshift blanket. Heat starts pooling in your belly as the antagonizing seconds of Leon eating you out bring you to the edge.
At last, your body jerks and comes undone in Leon’s grasp. He holds you in place, flattening his tongue to collect every drop of your slick. He could easily cum too just by the fact he was tasting your release. 
“My sweet girl, always so perfect for me.” He finally disconnects from your pussy to crawl back to where your face is. He places some kisses on your neck which is glistening with a layer of sweat given how much pleasure you were previously feeling. 
At last, his lips reach yours and he passionately kisses you. You could easily taste yourself in the kiss yet you don’t care at this very moment. 
For a moment, he indulges in the tenderness of the kiss after bringing you to heaven with just his tongue alone. However, the easily noticeable restraint in his jeans was getting harder to control. 
You feel him grind against you, seeking any type of friction to ease the aching feeling of his erection. 
“Leon… I can’t….” Leon’s intentions are obvious as you feel his clothed dick humping your leg like a needy man yet, you are still tender from your ecstasy. 
“You can…” He brings his face against the crook of your neck once again, placing wet kisses around your skin. “Just one more baby.”
He pleads, he begs, he needs to feel you wrapped around him. Those thoughts about leaving his mark, leaving his seed in you are still pretty much present. So at last, you nod. That’s when you can feel a smile forming on his lips which continue being pressed against your neck. 
“Thank you, thank you.” Acting like he hasn’t touched for ages, you hear the rustle of fabric and his belt buckle falling to the ground. You see how his dick springs out of his boxers when he pulls them down, already leaking precum just from eating you out.
In less than a second, you feel him collecting your previous release, sliding his cock through your folds with such ease that it had you gripping air. 
“Fuck…” He murmurs as he pushes himself painfully slowly, taking his time to feel how your walls tighten around his length. Pinned underneath him, you feel overwhelmed by the sensation of having his body so close to you. 
“My pretty wife…” He whispers as he is finally all the way in. “Look at you, so pretty full of me.” He adds while one of his hands caresses your hair.
He starts gently rocking against your body, the pace is slow and comforting as if trying to remember the way your velvety walls clamp his dick, the stretch being something you’re accustomed to.
“I love you so much, you know that?” He says as he thrusts inside of you, this time a little more urgently. The hand that was previously running through your hair wraps around your waist and lifts it slightly. 
“Mhm…yes.” You nod as your eyes lock with his, witnessing a newfound desire you haven’t seen before. Maybe it was the fact that both of you are outdoors, you don’t know. 
The sounds of his skin slapping against yours mix with your heavy breaths. The perfect music for the perfect scenario. As soon as Leon hits that sweet spot of yours, you whimper his name like a mantra. 
And then again, the thought of a family floods his mind. The mental image of your belly stretching out, making space for the baby is everything he longs for. And not only that, but he craves to take care of you, his pretty wife. You wouldn’t need to lift a finger for the nine months of pregnancy. 
“Wanna fill you up.” He finally confesses in a moan. He isn’t a stranger to dirty talk, you know it well. The way his words come out like a promise and an already-made decision is proof of his not so hidden wish. “This farm is lonely with just the two of us…”
And as he presses his forehead against yours, you see in his eyes the devotion he has for you. The same man that promised you the world is now promising a life, a new life who is going to be the perfect combination of both you and him.
“What’chu mean?” You feign ignorance just for the sake of hearing those words coming out of his mouth again. And as you try to say some more teasing words, you can feel the way his thrusts get rougher as if trying to make a statement. The statement being that he wouldn’t stop until you get pregnant.
“You know what I mean…” He is huffing by now, letting out a grunt as he utters those words. “Wanna get you nice and full.”
Ultimately, your dreams are the same as his. So you allow him to transform this dream of his into his—your—reality now.
“Yeah?” You say through your teeth, trying not to whimper from the fact that his cock is reaching so deep into you. 
“Yeah.” He groans, his sticky forehead never leaving yours as he looks into your eyes and your dazed-out expression. “You’re gonna look so goddamn beautiful as a momma.” 
Out of desperation to fuck you even deeper, he brings your legs to his shoulders, just like he previously did when he was eating you out. But this time, it is an attempt to let his dick mark your womb. 
It is his mission to one day see a positive test. It’s his mission to show his devotion to his princess and the now-future mother of his children. He’d never stop looking at the telltale of his seed making its home in your body. 
He wouldn’t let you do anything besides resting and growing your little miracle. He’d cook, he’d clean, he’d feed you if you ask him to. 
“Keep squeezing me like that, I’m gonna—fuck—cum…” He effortlessly bends your knees even more, bringing them closer to your chest.  “Gonna fill you up until I’m so damn empty.” 
He takes advantage of the vulnerable position you’re in to bring a hand to your clit. Rubbing it, he waits for the imminent climax of both of you.
“Cum for me, princess.” He presses his body on top of you, the position allowing him to let out an almost growl against your ear. The sense of purpose that Leon is showing prompts you to finally reach your climax. With a broken voice and your fingernails leaving crescent moons on his back, you coat his dick with your release. A gooey ring forms at the base of his cock every time he pulls in and out of you. 
His actions don’t stop there, though. He was so close to spilling right inside you and making his dreams come true. He brings the hand that was previously teasing your clit to your face, brushing away some of your hair that has stuck to your forehead, he looks right into your eyes.
“Fucking love you so much.” He grunts, his deep sea eyes never leaving yours, as if trying to engrave this moment in his mind. To forever remember the time when he finally achieved his dream. “You’ll be the prettiest momma ever.”
Although his thrusts are too much for you to handle and the overstimulation turns into a slight discomfort, the way his hand is gently caressing your cheek—a juxtaposition of his determined attempt of marking you— makes you melt on the spot.
And especially since the cold feeling of his wedding ring reminds you of the amazing man you married.
“I'm cumming.” He warns you as his thrusts get sloppy and without rhythm. He's seeing stars at this moment, every time he plunges his dick into you he reaches the sky. And at last, with the way his breath gets laboured and heavy, it announces his high coming.
The head of his dick spurts rope after rope of cum into you, the angle you are in makes it easier for it not to drip out of you. He wouldn’t allow a drop of his seed to go to waste. 
You feel the warm and thick liquid filling your insides, proof of Leon’s actions and therefore fulfilled wish. For a moment, you stay there letting his weight crush you and your bent legs. 
After a while, he slowly slips out of you, carefully placing your legs on the ground. You feel the grass blades tickling your calves where Leon’s shirt doesn’t reach. 
Leon rests his arm next to your head, admiring the dazed-out expression you have after letting him fill you.
“Hey…” He murmurs before letting out a soft chuckle. 
“Hi you.” You respond with a smile amidst the exhaustion that is running through your veins. “We really just did that.”
“Yeah…” In his eyes, you can observe how much love he has for you and how eager he is to know if this one dream will be a reality.
With his free hand, he grabs yours and places soft pecks on your knuckles. 
“Are you okay?” He once again speaks, now making sure you are alright. 
“More than okay.” 
He gives your knuckles one last kiss before he lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head while doing so.
“A penny for your thoughts?” You ask.
“Nothing…” He shakes his head once again. “It's just that… I may have some dad jokes already prepared.”
“Shut up, Leon.”
You couldn’t wait to know if your dreams were achieved by this act. You couldn’t wait to see if your life could get even better than this. And especially, you couldn’t wait to experience being a family.
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💬 shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.
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gaybox · 1 year
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huggingkoalas · 3 months
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caught you
pairings natasha romanoff x fem!reader
synopsis natasha comes home to find an intruder in her house. the encounter takes an unexpected turn as authority gives way to desire.
word count 2.5k
warnings smut, roleplay, spanking, use of strap-ons, cockwarming, gunplay(?), ‘mommy’ kink, subspace/headspace, cursing, degradation, praising, teasing, pet names, established relationship, bottom!reader, top!natasha
author’s note phew i might've gone too crazy for my first natasha romanoff fic, oops? hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i did writing it <3
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As Natasha reached into her pocket, her fingers found the familiar shape of her keys. She unlocked the door to her house with the key, the weariness in her muscles evident as she used more force than usual. She yearned for nothing more than to take a soothing bath and a well-deserved night of sleep after a long day of doing post-mission briefings and reports at the Avengers compound.
As she stepped through the wooden frame and gently closed the door behind her, she effortlessly kicked off her boots and let them fall to the side. She slipped her black leather jacket off her shoulders and laid it temporarily over the back of the sofa. She yawned and massaged her right shoulder with her left arm, groaning as she pressed on the sensitive spot.
It had been another exhausting day. Despite her love for her job as an Avenger, she had to admit that the long missions and overwhelming workload had begun to take its toll on her. The only positive aspect of her job was the joy she brought to children’s faces every time they saw her and called her ‘my favourite hero’. Furthermore, Natasha earned more than enough money to buy a house away from the compound. As much as she liked her team, she favoured the peace of being alone after a long day.
Lost in her thoughts about work, she suddenly felt the cold night breeze whisper against her skin. A moment of confusion etched on her face. Her eyebrows furrowed as she realized the patio doors leading to her backyard were ajar, casting a shadow on the hardwood floors.
Had I forgotten to close it?
I swear I closed it before I left the house.
Natasha walked towards the patio door, closed it and turned the lock firmly. She was not the type to forget things easily. She couldn’t get rid of the persistent feeling that something wasn’t right.
Just as she was about to turn away from the patio door, she noticed a trail of muddy footprints leading into the house from the backyard. Her heart dropped as she realized someone had broken into her home while she was gone. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of the intruder in the home with her at the very moment. With careful and silent steps, she traced the trail of prints with her eyes, leading her down the hallway.
Natasha slowly reached behind her back and pulled out her pistol from its concealed position in her waistband. Her mind raced, and adrenaline surged through her veins. Wrapping both her hands around the grip, her index finger rested on the trigger guard, pointing the gun at a slightly downward angle. 
She mentally prepared herself for any potential confrontation. She took a deep breath, her senses heightened, and cautiously continued to follow the muddy footprints. The trail led her to her master bedroom, the door firmly closed.
With her back pressed against the adjacent wall, Natasha listened intently for any movement beyond the door. She closed her eyes, straining her ears for any sound. A faint and muffled shuffling sound barely reached her ears. Just as she was open about to the door, she took a long breath, steeling herself for what lay beyond her.
“Freeze!” She called out, pushing the door open with a swift turn of the doorknob. Her voice was authoritative and firm as she stared at the intruder, her hands maintaining a firm grip on the pistol. 
Realization flashed across her face momentarily as she recognized the intruder’s face, though she masked it well. Caught off guard, you looked up with widened eyes as you saw Natasha pointing a gun at you. You raised your hands in mock surrender, standing tall with your head held high.
“It’s not what it looks like.” You tried to explain, steadying your nerves.
“Put your hands behind your back, now.” Natasha commanded, her tone unwavering as she ignored your attempts at explaining yourself.
You slowly lowered your hands and placed them behind your back. You didn’t seem daunted by the situation in the least. Natasha maintained a stern expression, lowering her pistol and holstering it back in her waistband. 
She stepped forward, her expression hinting at a momentary diversion of her thoughts. The dim light from the window accentuated your features, and she found herself momentarily captivated by your beauty. Her gaze lingered for an extra beat. She couldn’t deny that you looked mesmerizing and absolutely ravishing.
“What’s your name?” Natasha inquired, her tone assertive but curious.
“Y/N.”
“Y/N.” Natasha repeated. “You don’t seem afraid at all.”
She stopped in front of you. As you subtly shifted your stance, your hair cascaded gracefully over one shoulder, giving her a whiff of your sweet vanilla perfume. Tension lingered between you as you met her gaze through lowered lashes. 
Your eyes briefly travelled down, and you couldn’t help but notice a bulge between Natasha’s pants. A subtle swallow and a discreet bite of your bottom lip betrayed the mutual awareness of the heightened tension. You could see the impressive girth outlined through her pants. Her breath hitched as she saw the lust and need reflecting in your eyes.
“Face the wall.” Natasha ordered, ignoring the tension between the both of you.
A smile on your lips formed as an idea appeared in your head. You stepped closer to her, leaving no space between you two. You turned around, with your hands still behind your back, leaning back to press your ass to her groin.
“Guess you’ll have to arrest me like this, miss...?” You glanced over your shoulder, asking for her name.
“Natasha.” She responded with a shaky breath, her hands aching to grab your hips and press you against her. She tried to resist the urge to give in to her impulses, trying to maintain her professional demeanour.
Your breathing became laboured, your lips parting slightly. You reached behind your back and reached for Natasha’s bulge, feeling the outline of the strap-on. She groaned, a ‘fuck’ escaping her lips as she grabbed your hips and pressed your ass against her groin harder, giving in to the temptation.
“Such a fucking slut.” Natasha’s eyes were a mix of authority and desire. 
“N-Nat-” You knew she’d be hot and bothered by your actions, but-
She leaned forward and pressed a hard kiss to your temple. “Shut up.” She whispered hotly in your ear. “Take your clothes off, now.”
You wasted no time removing your clothes, letting them fall around your legs as you kept your panties on. Natasha sat down on the edge of the king-size bed and patted her lap.
“Over my lap.” Her voice was void of emotion, and her words hit you like a bucket of ice water. You knew what was happening next and obeyed without saying a word, fear creeping into your stomach. Your stomach rested on her lap, your head and legs dangling beside her thighs. The rough fabric of her pants hitting your clothed folds made you shiver, your cheeks turning a bright shade of red.
She ran her hands over the curve of your ass, her touch light as a feather along the seam where flesh met lace. The delicacy of her touch caused goosebumps to form on your skin.
“I think you deserve ten spanks, don’t you agree?” Natasha retorted. It was a rhetorical question and you didn’t have the confidence to turn her down anyway.
She lifted your hips to push your panties down to your knees, trapping your thighs closed. Her hands, which had been so gentle a moment before, dug roughly into your ass, leaving crescent-shaped impressions on your skin. 
A powerful smack echoed, and you arched forward with the force of it against your ass. Natasha’s thumb rubbed over your red and sore cheek. You tried to keep track of how many smacks she had given you so far, but after the third smack, your thoughts became blank as you moaned uncontrollably. As much of a punishment as it was, you couldn’t deny that you liked it when she spanked you. Even your hips pushed into her hands during each blow. 
“I wish you could see yourself right now. Making a mess all over my thigh while I spank you like the naughty girl you are.” Natasha chuckled, finishing the last few blows on your bright red flesh. Taking a deep breath, you grit your teeth against the red-hot pain emanating from your ass.
“Such a good little slut for mommy.” She kneaded the supple flesh and leaned down to treat each of your cheeks to a kiss. “You did so well for me, good girl.”
You squirmed fruitlessly under her touch, whimpering as the sticky juices ran down your thighs. “M-Mommy..” You whispered, trying to angle your hips against her thigh to give yourself some pleasure.
“You’re not cumming on my thigh. On your knees for me, milaya devushka (sweet girl).” Her voice was honey-like, her hands gently scratching over your scalp. Her soothing touch lulled you slowly, and you hummed in response.
Releasing yourself from her lap, you knelt before her, her knees spread on either side of you. You steadfastly refused to acknowledge the pain beneath your flesh. The rough carpet dug into your knees, but the thought of obeying her was all that mattered to you.
Natasha stood up, quickly removing her clothes and tossing them aside. Your eyes looked up at her submissively, and your mouth salivated as your gaze fell on the strap-on around her waist. She sat back down, spreading her legs and pushing you closer to her body. Neither of you spoke, the room falling silent apart from the ticking sounds of the clock and steady breathing. She watches your body relax the longer you kneel for her, sensing the moment you slip into subspace. 
“Do you know what cockwarming is, detka (baby)?” You nod slowly and open your lips, darting your tongue out. Natasha guides her length between them, and you moan at the heaviness of it, resting your cheek against her thigh. Your cheeks are flushed, and your eyes flutter shut. She watches you in your kneeling position, noticing your body swaying unconsciously.
She holds her body upright with an elbow behind her back, running her fingers through your hair. Your thighs ache, and your mouth is full of saliva, but eventually, you begin to relax into her.
“Good girl.” Natasha whispers, the praise slipping from her lips. She almost purrs with satisfaction as she feels you melt further into her. “So perfect for me.”
You don’t know how long you stay on your knees with her in your mouth. You whine as she begins to take your mouth from her, your fingers digging into her skin, trying to hold her in place as you swallow back her length.
“Shhh... It’s alright, you’ve done great.” Natasha smiles and brushes her thumb over your cheek. You let her pull you off of her and bring you into her lap. 
You tuck your face into her neck, whining as you slowly release from the subspace. You begin to realize yourself aching with emptiness, and you whimper as her strap brushes against the sensitive, soaked skin between your thighs. You begin rocking in her lap slowly.
“Shit, so wet for me, hmm?” Natasha drops her hands to your hips and lets you rut down against her lap, grunting as your breasts bounce in her face as you move. She leans down and sucks one between her lips, grazing her teeth against the hardening nub softly.
“P-Please, Mommy.” You whine, arching against her. She nods as she reaches between the both of you to wrap her hand around the silicone. Soaked in your arousal and saliva, the both of you moan as she presses the head of the strap-on into your entrance. 
Natasha cups your face and guides you into a kiss as she begins pressing inside, and you moan into her open mouth as she stretches you, the length thick and hard and hot as it sinks inside of you. 
“Fuck, dorogaya (sweetheart). You’re so tight for me.” She murmurs, and you’re heavily panting as you settle in her lap, her length nestled fully inside you.
Clenching the walls of your pussy a few times, you groan as Natasha holds your hips, raising you on your shaking legs before dropping you back down on her length.
“Nat, I need… Please…” You can’t find the word to explain the way your thighs shake from exertion, or how your whole body feels like fucking jelly, but Natasha knows, she always does.
“I’ve got you, malyshka (babygirl).” Natasha murmurs. You whimper as she wraps her hands around your thighs. She helps you rise and fall on her length, thrusting her hips up quickly and deeper to meet you as you fall back down. She kisses you, lips wet and hot as both of your bodies are covered in a thin sheen of sweat. You can’t seem to think of anything else past the haze of arousal.
“M-Mommy, I’m close.” You whimper, and she drops her mouth to your neck, her tongue and lips sucking and her teeth biting. She breathes hotly against your neck, against the mark she’s just made.
You whimper and drop your forehead onto her shoulder, closing your eyes and moistening your lips. You’re sliding along her sweaty skin as she fucks you hard and fast, her fingers digging into the skin of your thighs as she helps you rise and-
“Cum for me, moya lyubov’ (my love).” Your breath comes in short gasps as Natasha wraps an arm around your waist and pulls your body as close to her as she can.  
“Oh God-” You moan and cum hard, your whole body shaking as she continues to fuck you, splitting you open. Natasha trembles beneath you as you writhe above her. Breathing sharply, she murmurs words of comfort and praise to you as you tremble in her arms, coming down from your high.
Natasha lifts you from her lap and lays you gently on the bed. You hiss as you feel a hint of pain as she slides off of you. She lies down next to you and looks at you, giggling as she looks at your face after your orgasm.
“Well, that was something. I never thought you’d have it in you to try out one of my fantasies.” You smile softly and turn your head towards her.
Natasha laughs, and the sweet sound echoes through the room. “Well, I want to please you, detka (baby). Did you like it?”
“Of course.” You reach forward to stroke her cheek and kiss her gently. Natasha pulls back and presses her forehead against yours, sighing in happiness. “Can't deny that it was really hot when you were acting all commanding and authoritative to me though.”
Natasha's shakes her head, smirking. “Alright, weirdo. Get some sleep.”
“Yes, Mommy.” You teased, sticking your tongue out playfully.
After a few minutes of synchronized breathing, exhaustion catches up to you. Your breathing slows down and you fall asleep. Natasha pulls the covers over you, snuggling against your side and splaying an arm across your waist.
“I love you so much, Y/N.” She whispers in your ear, a soft smile on her lips as she falls asleep next to her beloved.
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azullumi · 4 months
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trying different types of kissing with scaramouche?💔 like forehead, neck kisses, hand or anything at all....
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“say yes to heaven” ; wanderer/scaramouche
summary — ultimately, he really does just want to be loved, behind the many layers of him to hide all that yearning and longing. but how can he say it when love, for him, was a synonym to forgiveness; alternatively, different kisses with him, with each one signifying a progressing relationship.
pairing — scaramouche/wanderer (w/ gender-neutral reader) ; could imagine this with either but i wrote this with wanderer in mind
tags — established relationship, fluff, a little bit of angst, not proofread, 1.1k ; ficlet
note — i needed an excuse to write a fic that is just all about kissing him and also comforting him (but still, i hope u like this nonnieee!!)
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i. hand
You hold his hand and press small kisses on his knuckles, a little bit ticklish it was for him but he doesn’t retract. The feeling of it makes something in his chest ache with an unfamiliar sensation, and he knows it’s not his heart because he never had any.
You kiss the back of his hand, an intimate gesture, like devotion, like he was something—or someone—that should be adored.
“I am no god.” He was no deity to be worshiped so why are you so gentle to him? He wasn’t made of glass nor is he fragile; he was born from ashes of a burned home, he was carved out of war and winter storms and everything that you could ever pray against, he was a symphony composed of nothing but bad luck and conflicting melodies—he was not the kind people would choose to be around, much less adore.
And as if you bear a part of him in your mind, you understood what he was trying to say, could hear the questions that tormented him, could see the conflicted look on him as he looks at you with a gaze that seems to scrutinize your being when only he is looking for an answer. He tries to look for a crack, a gap in your expression, so that he can look through it and see what you’re really thinking.
“You don’t have to be one to be loved.” You press one last kiss on his hand just as you finished speaking, looking up to him. Indigo blue orbs met yours in a gentle gaze, eyes filled with affection only for the other to drown in. If he could put all that he was feeling, all that he was asking and seeking an answer to, into a simple word, it all condenses to: why?
“Do you still have doubts?” You ask, despite knowing the answer. He opens his mouth only to close it again, looking for the words that he should say but chose to be silent instead. And you smile—not a beaming grin nor a subtle paint on your features, but something gentle and comforting as if you’re assuring him: it’s okay, I understand you. I know you.
“You’re not unloveable.”
Loving him wasn’t the hardest thing to do, it came to you naturally as if breathing but the man thinks otherwise. A burnt child who loves the fire will only hear the fact that he is loveable, people just choose not to.
“How do you know that?” You know him well enough to hear the way his voice trembles at the effort to allow himself to be vulnerable. Long was the fall of the tall and formidable walls that he built around him.
“You’re not unloveable.” You repeat, taking hold of his fingers to kiss his hand once more. “Am I not enough proof of that?”
ii. forehead and cheeks
You cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead, an unspoken language of tenderness in which he took a long time to understand. When love and affection has finally been given to him after decades of yearning, he’s unsure of how to hold it in his hands—does he gently hold it with both? Every bit overwhelms him to the bone, the gratifying yet intense feeling seeps through his being and settles inside of him in a way that it slowly consumes the crevices of his mind, until all that is left of him is nothing but a starved man who only longs for the feeling of your skin against his own.
There was a flicker of warmth in his expression and he closed his eyes as he relished in your kindness, your hands cradling his cheeks with warmth that coaxed his entire existence, your lips pressing against his forehead softly. Then, you started to pepper his face with small kisses and the man could only surrender to your touch, a dance of vulnerability and intimacy as he crumbled into your hold.
No one has ever come this close to him (a closeness that was a stranger to the pages of his past, a tender note composed solely for him), no one and nothing.
You spoke, murmuring against his skin and close to his lips: “Sunshine.” Humor weaves through your tone, teasing the absurdity of the mismatched title and the man who wears it with subtle grace.
“Don’t call me that.” He snarks yet no bite. It’s ironically funny how you use that nickname on him despite him being the complete contrast of it; he stands as the living paradox of the word itself.
The sound of laughter bubbles up in your throat and you answer, “Why not? It suits you perfectly, don’t you think?”
What else should you call the man who grasps the warmth and tender light in his chest only the sun could give? To be with him was to sit in the autumn sunlight, to sleep in the comfort of your sheets when the rain patters against your window, to walk barefoot on the sand even if it feels like shards of glasses against your sole, to be with him was to simply exist; you’ve never met anyone who had the sun for a soul and he has never met anyone who had the stars in their eyes, and while you had the universe etched on the palm of your hands, he has your name engraved on his.
iii. lips
Your lips ghost against his own, albeit in a tantalizing manner, teasing and quite slow—but he wasn’t a patient man.
“Are you going to kiss me or what?” He whispers and you don't waver at his straightforwardness, having been used to this note. There was no hostility in his tone, just pure and raw desperation and desire to feel you.
You could imagine the eye roll he would give you had he not had his eyes closed at the moment, could imagine the frown on his expression while he spoke and could imagine it faltering soon when you finally kissed him, slow as if to savor the softness of his lips and how it reminds you of spring; he could not properly express the warmth on his chest at the thought of how you love him when he still tasted of heartache and war.
You part from him but remained close, foreheads pressed against one another, breathing heavily, and looking into each other’s eyes. You wanted to tell him that you will find him in every lifetime, but the silence between you two was enough to convey such strong affections that you could hear him respond: And I will love you in each one.
(And he somehow finds himself thinking at the same, this is what he deserves. He’d do these, these vulnerable moments where he lays himself bare for you to touch and hold even if you’ll see the scars and cracks on his skin, the falling and getting hurt despite the fear, the burning and constant searching for something, he’ll do it all over again—if it’s you.)
If someone were to ask him what forgiveness tastes like, he would utter your name—everything that he has ever longed for came in the form of you. And he fears that this longing will last forever even while you’re here, that this longing will grow even when he crumbles to dust, that this longing will outlive this body and weave life into the earth that swallows your existence.
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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onlyswan · 11 months
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summary: in which jungkook’s new lip piercing makes you want to cry, and he can’t live without you.
> established relationship, fluff / word count: 1.4k
> warnings: mention of or*l (f. receiving)
> in which masterlist!
note: heh surprise :D my impulsive, jungkook lover brain couldn’t resist so here’s a little something 🥲
“why are you looking at me like that?” jungkook nervously asks as the excited beam lighting him up gradually fades. “do you not like it?”
you remain speechless with an unreadable expression written on your face. dumbly staring at the lower right corner of his lips, it is adorned with yet another piercing that makes your boyfriend appear more enchantingly attractive in your eyes — which are, by the way, currently blurry and dazed. your brain is still fuzzy around the edges, short circuiting the longer you observe the silver stud.
it infuriates you, almost, how he still manages to effortlessly drive you crazier for him five years later.
it’s extremely rare for you to fall asleep before 10pm, and to be frank, you hate him for waking you up because you know you won’t be able to go back to sleep until 3am no matter how tired you are. and you’re still not quite certain if you’ve already registered that your consciousness has been rudely pulled back into reality; because then again, you’ve always been obsessed with his lip ring, maybe unhealthily so, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume that you’d dream of him surprising you with a new piercing just beside it.
however, there is a particular reason that holds you back from strongly wishing for that to come true.
“but you loved the ring, even the eyebrow ones… did i pick an ugly placement this time?” he wonders out loud with a frown, confused that his surprise didn’t receive the type of reaction he expected.
when he tries hard enough, he can picture them vivid enough to draw from memory… your eyes glittering with awe and adoration each time he presented himself with a new piercing or tattoo. you, showering him with love and praises that erased every ounce of anxiety he had about his life-altering decisions that usually came in the aftermath. what others would call impulsiveness, you named his fearless self-expression.
“ow- ouch- baby! what the hell? what was that for?”
with doe eyes struck by headlights, he gapes at you in surprise as he rubs his poor shoulder that was slapped without warning.
“why did you get it there? we’re not allowed to make out again until it’s healed!” you pettily complain with a drawn-out whine, knees bumping against his thighs as you bounce your crossed legs in bitter vexation.
“oh, shit.”
in real time, you witness the realization comically dawn on jungkook’s face, flabbergasted that in the thick haze of his excitement, he forgot about this excruciating restriction during the extended healing process. in his defense, it’s been forever since he got his first lip piercing.
oh, he’s in so much trouble.
he stares back at you, frozen and unblinking as he slowly speaks with a guilty wince. “ahh, you’re right… i must be out of my mind… i can’t eat you out, too… fuck, how did i survive this back then?”
the genuine innocence lacing his voice only fuels your urge to curl into a ball and cry in frustration. yearning for his touch while he’s not physically present is one thing, but this is much, much worse.
“stop talking.” you glare at him, angry eyebrows contrasting the puffiness of your face caused by sleep.
“you’re so adorable.” the endearing sight elicits a breathy chuckle from him, followed by a small whimper triggered by the pain that spreads on the lower part of his face immediately after. he brushes it off without care, muttering quietly- “come here.”
he carefully guides you to sit on his lap, sinking further into the soft mattress with your weight added on top of him. and for tonight, you allow him to manhandle you as he likes, not having the energy to jokingly pretend to argue with him. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer to him, only realizing how much you’ve missed him now that you’re skin-to-skin.
“don’t be upset, baby. i’m sorry.” he sweetly coaxes you into a better mood. “i will make it up to you after. i promise. i always do, right?”
with drowsy eyes still trained on the new jewelry that shines from the light of the night lamp, you sniffle and pout at him.
“and we can still do this, remember?”
the world becomes still and quiet, and the oxygen gets trapped in your lungs when jungkook holds your face in between his warm hands, crossing the short distance between you. your eyelids slowly flutter shut, lashes kissing your cheeks as his lips softly brush against yours. languid and tender, slightly sticky from your sleeping mask that smells like candy. he ends the blissful moment too soon with a gentle pucker of his lips, leaving you with a simple peck that will haunt your mind for the weeks to come, as if you’re a teenager who just had their first kiss in the middle of the dance floor.
“hmm, see, baby? not bad?” he says quietly, pads of his thumbs tenderly stroking the apple of your cheeks.
jungkook is too persuasive for his own good. the memories of you suffering last time are clouded with the new sweet memory he just orchestrated, and you’re almost convinced that it truly might not be that bad after all.
“but we need to be veeery careful like that for now, understand? so it’ll stop hurting and heal fast.”
and just like that, you’re a little more awake.
“does it hurt a lot? did you bleed a lot?”
hearing him say that he’s in pain made you worriedly react within a split second. his heart melts, and then breaks into two as he gathers all the self-control in his body not to pepper your face with kisses like he usually does.
“the piercer was good and quick, i didn’t feel a thing. but i’m definitely feeling something now.” he shakes his head, uttering the last sentence humorously.
“of course, it hurts now. you won’t stop moving… let me see.” you scold him with a roll of your eyes, slightly turning his head by the back of his ear to have a better view of the swollen flesh around the piercing.
“how is it doing?” he inquires after a few beats, curious and impatient with your silence.
and that’s when he sees that look on your face, the glittering eyes he was anticipating to meet since he finished his appointment the morning before. you grin from ear to ear, scrunching your nose cutely before giggles bubble from your chest. sheepish with your transparent delight, you hide your face in the crook of his neck, tickling him with your every exhale.
“my boyfriend is so cool, and so handsome. i’m so lucky and proud.”
that’s him. that could only be him.
jungkook, despite being elated by the compliments, can only muster a small shy smile. he carresses your hair lovingly, securing his tattooed arm around you as you threaten to slip off from his lap.
“really?”
“hm, i like it. so much…” you hum, planting a chaste kiss to the sensitive spot on his neck. “you’re always putting me through this, making me want to kiss you more all the time. this is so unfair.”
“baby, please. behave for me?” he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut as if he’s in unmaginable pain. in his dramatic mind, currently flooded with love chemicals, he is. “if you keep talking like that, i will really end up risking an infection.”
you lift up your head to show him a grimace of disgust. “ew, pull it together. i wouldn’t want to kiss you with that.”
“tsk, you’re such a brat.” he calls you out with a pointed look, lightly smacking your thigh, revealed by your shorts that has further ridden up, before kneading the soft flesh under his large palm to soothe it.
you teasingly stick out your tongue in response, breaking out into laughter. and not so subtly, you squeeze your thighs together, grasping his wrist in a futile attempt to control the frenzied butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
“have you cleaned it?”
“not yet.”
“then let’s do it. i’ll help you.” you climb off his lap as you eagerly tug at his arm, planting your feet firmly on the ground. “love, hurry- hurry. i want to see it in better lighting.”
exhausted after an eventful day, jungkook limply flops down, occupying the side of the bed that you’ve kindly warmed up. “you can go ahead. i’ll follow you after five minutes.”
“ugh, no, you won’t. you’ll fall asleep if you keep your eyes closed for another thirty seconds, and then i’ll have to wake you up.”
he pops one eye open, and then another, meeting your affectionate gaze with a silly grin because damn, you know him so well.
“i love you… don’t ever leave me. i think i’d seriously die without you.”
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nehts · 2 years
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AGH
#I'm. intoxicated to a stupid. stupid stupid degree - to the point that it is ... getting. near unconscious levels.#Yet.#YET I remain ... unfathomably miserable.#The grief and the lack of the dynamic - the lack of the type of comfort that I have. wanted. for years ...#It'll. absolutely fucking kill me at this rate.#I don't feel better.#I just feel awful and more tired of it all - yet.#WHO KNOWS! Maybe I just need more alcohol and morphine and pills and. etc etc etc.#Whatever. who fucking cares. etc. I'm tired man#I'm ... really. really tired.#Without...#Without the specific form of comfort that I have yearned for .#Without ... the. very particular way that I need to be loved - in a very specific relationship type .#I. will end up fucking. killing myself at this rate.#I'm not... worried about it. Not really.#I guess I just wish that I had.#Something.#Anything. that made me ... able to live for those who need me to continue to live.#But. the only thing that would give me that is so...#Rare.#Impossible.#Absolutely impossible to obtain - unless I find. a replacement. which is again. impossible - so ... ultimately.#I remain like this - simply ... waiting to. eventually slowly die. etc#I guess I don't really ... care about my well-being. again. It's just...#I have reasons to keep living now.#I have my wife - I have . a group of people to socialize with - I have ... people.#Finally. I have people in my life.#Yet it... isn't. enough - because I need ... that. specific. hyperspecific form of love and comfort.#And so I endlessly self destruct hoping that one day - one day... I'll be intoxicated enough that it doesn't matter any more.#That. I'll be fucked up enough that I forget that I need . that dynamic again.
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