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#so he's got Shiver looking pants
dontfindmeimscared · 1 year
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angry lad
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sttoru · 29 days
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. the jjk men coming back home to their lovely housewife after a rough day at work <3
tags. satoru, suguru, toji, sukuna x housewife!female reader (separately). fluff, mostly smut. size difference for all of em. manhandling here n there. p in v -> unprotected. crēampies. brēēding themes. half asleep when writing this—apologies for any grammar errors
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𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔. dry humping, cūmshot, reader gets called ‘angel, baby’.
“mmmh.. ya smell like cookies,” satoru sighs as he hugs you from behind, lightly swaying your bodies back and forth in a romantic dance. you had jazz playing in the background while you were baking some cookies, completely relaxing in the comfort of your home.
you got somewhat startled when satoru first appeared behind you, his arms sneaking around your waist. you scolded him—though were quickly soothed back into a loving mood when he kissed your neck and enveloped you in his embrace.
satoru can’t help but to let his urges take over. having his pretty little wife in his arms in that apron he bought, is doing unspeakable things to his body. his hands roam all over your torso until they stop to fondle your breasts.
“no no,” your husband swirls his tongue around your ear as his hands squeeze your chest from underneath your shirt. “continue what you’re doing, angel. let your hubby do what he needs to do, ‘kay?”
you’re used to the usual routine by now; satoru coming home, spoiling you with either gifts, food or his affection before relieving his stress on you. satoru never leaves you sexually frustrated—ever.
“kay,” you nod and just continue to work on the batter for your next batch of chocolate chip cookies. it’s difficult to concentrate when satoru’s warm breath sends shivers down your spine. his tongue slithers from your ear to your neck, unapologetically leaving hickeys. he always makes sure to give you them. you’re his and he needs to keep reminding you of that fact.
“fuck, baby,” satoru’s breath hitches once he feels your hips jolt back against his groin. his fingers brushing against your sensitive nipples was all it took for you to get worked up. you whimper his name under your breath—body squirming in his arms.
satoru bites your earlobe gently, his own hips not able to stay still for another second. he rolls his lower body against yours from behind until you can feel the imprint of his hardening erection pressing against your ass. you grind back against him, to which satoru responds by tweaking your swollen nipples, “such a naughty fuckin’ wife i have.”
your husband is on the edge of just cumming into his pants without any shame. he’s done so before when in your presence—the dry humping always gets to him. it’s a weakness of his that he isn’t good at hiding. he rubs his huge bulge right between your sweet and plump asscheeks, getting off from the feeling.
“gonna make me cum in my pants,” satoru whines and his slender fingers dig into the fat of your breasts even more. he’s needy for you, for every part of you. the fact that you’re sweet enough to accept what he gives you is driving him to the brink of insanity. he tries to stop himself, though to no avail, “shit— don’t wanna— need to cum inside of y—”
a string of whimpers leave satoru’s mouth and his hips spasms against your ass, pressing you against the kitchen counter as he gives one last thrust forward. “my god,” satoru breathes against your nape, his throat dry as he imagines that it’s your warm cunt swallowing every drop of his cum instead of his boxers.
you turn your head to look at satoru behind you. “are you okay, hubby?” you ask through soft breaths. the white-haired man shivers at your smooth voice which makes him press the bulge in his pants against your behind even tighter. you can feel a certain wetness starting to form on the front of your lover’s pants.
“yeah, totally fine,” satoru breathes out, trying to stay cool, calm and collected. he’s trying his best not to ravage you right now. he’s throbbing—blood flowing into his cock again already. you’re the only one who could trigger such sensual reactions from him.
satoru pats your ass a couple times, letting his wet tip rub against your folds through his pants;
“just wish i could’ve bred y’r cunt instead. fuck—can i? need to pump my pretty girl full before i go insane.”
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𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔. on the table top lol, reader gets called ‘sweetheart, darling’
suguru always makes a beeline towards you after he gets home. it’s tough being a cult leader—having to ‘treat’ people who come begging him for help. having to exorcise those curses that haunt those incompetent buffoons.
all of it is exhausting to the sorcerer. and what better way is there than to find solace in the presence of his stay at home wife?
“sweetheart,” suguru shows you that handsome smile of his the moment he steps into the living room, “need some help?” his eyes dart down at you on your knees, manually scrubbing a spot underneath the couch that was hard to reach. his gaze is focused on the arch of your back, how your ass sticks up as you complain about you’re inability to reach that spot in the corner.
“no, ‘tis fine,” you sigh and give up. you sit up straight on your knees and finally look at suguru. you didn’t expect him to stand so close to you in under a second, his hands reaching for you the moment he comes into your vision.
before you know it, you’re stripped from your shorts and panties. your back is on top of the nearest dining table and suguru’s standing right between your spread legs. he reveals his stiff cock after unzipping his pants and gives it a good few pumps as he looks you up and down, “i’ll fuck the frustration out of you, yeah? don’t you worry, darling.”
a win-win situation; suguru gets to take care of his needs and you get to forget about your exhaustion from all the household chores. your back arches off the surface and your eyes widen the second you feel his dick invade your tight pussy.
“mmh, yeah— that’s it,” suguru grunts, not able to take off his eyes from your wet folds as his cock disappears between them with each thrust. he starts off slow, allowing you to get used to the feeling of being stretched out, “you’re doing so well. you deserve this and so much more.” you appreciate the little things your husband does to make sure you stay comfortable throughout the entire process.
“suguruu,” you moan out his name, to which he responds with a short hum. your nails dig into his muscular back with every move—each time his tip taps that sweet spot deep inside of you. suguru kisses the inside of your upper arm before moving up to place a peck on your forehead.
“mhm, such a good little wife,” he sighs in content and fails to contain those noises of pleasure. you catch the faint grunts and moans that leave his lips between heavy breaths. suguru’s completely blessed to have you be his forever lover, “thank you for taking care of the house today as well.”
your stomach fills with butterflies because of his smooth tone. suguru’s calm yet hoarse voice ringing in your ears makes you want to burst already. the long-haired man punctuates his thrusts with pecks on your cheeks—kissing you after each slow yet harsh hip thrust.
your teary eyes meet his and you’re completely mesmerised by the way he looks at you. your husband is careful about the way he treats you, especially during intimate moments where you’re the most vulnerable.
though at the end of the day, he’s also but a man. seeing his gorgeous wife underneath him as he’s drilling into her will make him lose it. no doubt. all suguru wishes to do is to make that belly of yours expand with his love—his cum;
“hold onto me, sweetheart. i’m going to go a bit harder on you today, is that okay? yeah? good girl, take it for me.”
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𝐅. 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈; mating press, reader gets called ‘doll, wife, ma.’
assassin work is not for the weak. you know it, toji knows it. he always comes back home late at night. sometimes he doesn’t return home for days on end. you’re constantly living in fear that your husband may never return. even as toji reassures you that he will, every day.
“were ya worried again, doll?” toji asks as he tries to console you. you had been crying, he could guess by the dried tears on your cheeks. it’s around three in the morning and he had returned from yet another mission. only to find you still up.
“you promised you’ll stop doing such dangerous work,” you hiccup, trying your best not to cry again. toji sighs and turns your face so he could look you in the eye. he can’t help the tingle of excitement that runs down his spine—you’re adorable when you’re upset, “i did, didn’t i?” toji nods as his callused hand runs up and down your side.
he feels guilty every single night. he’s going to quit his job for your sake, though first, he has to save up some money that would last you a couple months. toji hates seeing you in distress about him and thus always tries to distract you.
by pleasuring you until you’re unable to think about nothing but him.
“i’ll make it up to ya,” toji grunts the moment he has your legs up in the air, your body nearly folded in half underneath his bigger one. he loves this position solely because he can see every change in your facial expressions. “c’mon, wife,” the dark-haired man mumbles, his eyes glued to your bouncy breasts and pouty lips, “told ya not to worry too much ‘bout me, yeah?”
you nod, knowing you should trust your husband. he’s never once broken his promises of coming back home to you. so, you simply let go and moan his name repeatedly as his tip kisses the deepest parts of your insides. “i—i trust you,” your tongue rolls out due to how well toji’s pounding you into the mattress.
toji grins at the sight. just a couple thrusts and you’re gone—completely cockdrunk without a worry in sight. he lets out a moan at the way you’re holding onto him so desperately, like you don’t want him to go. “fuck, keep that up ‘n i’m gonna knock you up, ma,” toji hisses. he can’t keep himself from cumming right inside of your cunt if it keeps on squeezing him.
you can’t even respond due to his thrusts knocking the wind out of your lungs. you can only babble about how deep he is and how you’d love to carry his kid. toji’s on cloud nine as he hears you confess your desires to get impregnated by none other than him;
“mmh, don’tcha worry, ‘m g’nna make you a momma soon enough. that way y’ won’t be lonely no more when i’m gone. gonna give you a kid so that you’ll always have a piece of me around—heh.”
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𝐒. 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍; heian era. degradation. cunnilingus. reader gets called ‘woman, brat,’
all you can do when sukuna isn’t around, is bore yourself to death. you hang out with your lady-in-waiting or with the cats walking around the estate. sometimes you go visit markets or other beautiful places right outside of the area, but that’s all there is to it.
though, when sukuna returns from his duties, you’re always happily welcoming him back. you’re the first one to greet him and lead him to a place of relaxation. that place being your shared bedroom. sukuna’s hungry eyes that are focusing on the way your clothes fit around your curves tell you more than enough.
“where ‘s my dinner, woman?” the king of curses’ deep baritone nearly makes you shake. you watch as he sits back against the headboard of the bed, his expression stoic yet amused. you know he doesn’t mean real food—he means you.
you’re his dinner.
you take the hint and slowly undress yourself, a strip tease to make sukuna excited about what’s to come. however there are more consequences to teasing him, as he isn’t a person known for his patience.
“stop wriggling,” sukuna scoffs against your wet cunt not a minute later. your clothes are ripped off your body and your legs are wrapped around his head. you can’t stay still when sukuna’s tongue is quite literally devouring you.
you moan out his name loudly, just the way he likes it. sukuna grins against your wet folds, letting the tip of his tongue roll up and down your slit while his thick finger lazily stimulates your clitoris. “got a fuckin’ brat as a wife,” sukuna delivers a harsh slap against your sensitive cunt after cupping it with one big hand, “stay still, i said.”
you squeal at the rough contact. you attempt to listen to your husband, but your body doesn’t allow it. your sticky thighs keep shaking and your hips keep jerking upwards against his mouth. his wet tongue slobbering all over your pussy is a clear sign of just how much sukuna looks forward to coming home—to watch you beg for mercy when he goes too far.
“delicious,” sukuna pants as he dives deeper into your folds, burying his entire face against your cunt. he sniffs your scent and simultaneously enjoys the taste of your wet juices. you’re all he needs after a frustrating day of taking care of duties back to back.
one of his hands brushes against your lower abdomen to keep you pinned to the bed. you grab the wrist of that hand and hold onto it for support. sukuna groans at the sight of you trying so hard to not cum on spot from his actions.
he speeds up the movements of his tongue and his big hand squeezes your tummy a little in the meantime;
“i think i’ll go for a second round of dessert after this one, ey? what’d ya think? wanna let everyone know that you, your cunt and your whole body is all mine—so i’ll probably fuck ye so good y’re gonna be heard all ‘round the estate.”
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fairy-angel222 · 3 months
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Thinking of you and Gojo going out to dinner with a pair of matching vibrators. The small pink device nestled between your folds in your wet pussy while his sits at the tip of his throbbing cock. Reddened length staining his pants with precum as he grew impossibly harder.
It was his idea. He wanted to see which one of you would come first. And by the looks of it, it would be you. The way you clenched your thighs together with a shaky moan, knuckles turning pale as you grip the edge of the table. Legs crossing underneath you as tears welled in your eyes.
You were so close. Keeping your head hung low to hide flushed cheeks, your pussy soaking your pretty lace panties as you felt a coil build painfully in your stomach.
Gojo boyfriend smirked, his hips jerking upwards in short pants as he watched you fall apart. Dialing up the intensity of the toy when the remote to his fell out of your hand. A victorious grin playing on his face despite his heavy breathing.
“Y-you okay baby? Look a bit— fuck, y-you look a bit.. haah” his words were cut off when you muffled your whimper with the back of your hand. Thankful to be sat at the very back of the restaurant as you shakily reached for the device, returning the favor by increasing his vibrator’s speed.
You were both a mess, avoiding each other’s faces in silent mewls before inevitably locking eyes. Your glassy ones rolling back while his became half lidded. Both your lips parting as you fell off the edge.
He choked out a groan when your foot lifted to press lightly into his bulge. The man’s body twitching as he involuntarily rut his clothed cock into it. Hot spurts of cum finally painting his pants white. He shivered with a cracked sigh, the overstimulation to his sensitive cock being too much for him.
Especially when he got to watch as your hands flew over your face, your eyes rolling back with the tremble of your body as your pussy spasmed. Messily wetting your underwear in your juices.
“Good evening ma’am, sir. Are you ready to order?” Your waiter smiled kindly, oblivious to your painfully delicious state as you stuttered out your order.
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screampied · 1 month
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hey i LOVE your work and ykk ou ur toji is just like… UGHHHH
could you do a mean toji who just mocks the reader and makes fun of her while she gets off on him (like idk his thighs or whatever) or when he fucks her? i feel like you would write this very well;)
❤︎ ໋𓈒 toji mocking your moans while you ride him
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warnings. fem! reader, thigh riding & cowgirl, dirty talk, praise, ōrgasm denial, breath play, spanking. + thank you sm !! mdni
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“we’re quite handsy today, huh,” he’d mumble once his eyes flicker down towards your nude body—you suck in a single breath as he’s got you just barely straddling his lap. with an unsatisfied pout, you’re just here moving up and down against his beefy thigh—oh so desperately wishing that you were riding him instead of his stupid, stupid leg. toji’s amusement only fuels the more you frown and scowl, pawing your hands up his perfectly chiseled thighs before he snickers. “what’s the issue? my thigh not enough to satisfy the pretty girl?”
“no..” you immediately say, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders. he could hear the irritation linger on your tone before you bury your face into his neck . . a good waft of his loud cologne scent infiltrating inside your nostrils.
two rugged hands drag down your back, sending you multiple shivers from his touch before he replies in a hoarse tone. “well, that’s too damn bad,” and his chortling laugh only makes you throb from how close it’s against your ear—fuck. “actually, y’know what. i feel like bein’ nice today, baby. you want more than my thigh? how ‘bout ya jus’ ask me nicely.”
“but—”
“but—nothin’ girl, now speak,” toji utters, feeling your grinding against his thigh—grabbing your chin softly before making you stare him right in the eyes. he slyly grins, a thumb tracing down your dampened lip. “i’ll wait.. talk to me nice, girl.”
your eyes avert towards his dick, just laying there on his stomach—so ridiculously lengthy, a mere tannish color coats it - including his leaky tip that stares right back at you.
it looks so good, you wanted him inside so bad that it hurts—he could tell too, you found it hard to stay still as you made a cute attempt at rutting against him once more.
“i— i want you, ‘toji,” you claw at his body with doe lit eyes, his swollen base—so full of unused seed that you desperately yearned for it to be inside of you, filling up your pretty little womb. “want you s'bad.”
“oh i know you do, babygirl,” he rasps, he can’t help but notice the sudden boner that makes his jaw tighten. coarse big hands grip both of your hips before he gawks at you with that same tantalizingly smug grin. “can’t just spoil ya all the time though, talk more for me. i like listenin’ to that needy voice.”
ugh, you start to grow impatient and he only laughs at your sheer annoyed expense.
“please,” you murmur out in a whiney tone, slowly wrapping your clammy fingers around his length. he doesn’t stop you, he lets you touch all over him, aligning yourself with the fat weight of his cock that was just aching to be buried within you. “i wanna ride you so bad, ‘toj. need it, need your cum.”
“girl you don’t need . . . shit,” he swallows, a cold sweat breaking onto him.
you’re fucking hot—especially whenever you just take what you want, toji could have creamed his pants at just your voice and your voice alone.
you had him so hard, he sucks his teeth in total exasperation before he feels you slowly start to sink him down. “fuck, y’er such a little brat,” he mutters, feeling the warmth of your walls swallow him whole. it was a moist feeling, you were already a bit soaked—purely from riding his thigh for how many minutes, you weren’t even sure anymore, nor did you even relatively care. “ride me then, do y’er fuckin’ worst then.”
“shut up and i will.” you snap back.
he rolls his eyes, feeling your ass thrash against his lap and it makes him squeeze the plush mounds of your rear.
“eh, i really don’t like that mouth,” and he spanks you harder, this time it stings and you moan—he’s so thick that your stomach starts to seize once you feel him gradually reach into the depths of your pussy. “when you ride me, there shouldn’t be any back talk, girl,” and he grabs your chin for the nth time, pressing a sweltering wet kiss right onto your glossed lips. “. . . are we clear or do i gotta let this pussy know what goes ‘round here.”
…so cocky,
you gnaw at your lip—fighting back the urge to roll your own eyes backwards before you thrust against him harder.
it’s relentless, the brutal skin-to-skin contact makes a raw moan harshly yank from the back of your throat as your hands continue to claw on his chest.
his bare chest that was already glistening with droplets of sweat. he was so toned, his pecs—his nipples that were swollen and a sheeny pink color, you even attempt to lean in to lap your tongue against his nipple but he lightly shoves you back.
“leave those alone, slut,” and you conceal back a laugh—by 'those', he was most likely referring to his tits broad pecs. “ride me, ‘n hurry up. ‘m gonna fall asleep at this rate.”
toji never knew how to simply shut the fuck up, such a talkative man—whispering filthy sweet nothings into your ear as you’re taking every thick inch of his cock. he stretches you out so good that you’re already whimpering, eyes goggling profusely at the way his angry tip just thwacks and thwacks against your g-spot. “s-shiiit, toji,” you’d curse out in a sharp breath, continuing to drag your hips further against him at such a pace.
in and out, in and out, you’re rotating your waist a bit before he grunts lowly, head throwing back and he smacks your ass yet again, and again, and again. “fuck yeah, ride me jus’ like that. such a good girl, takin’ this dick like the good girl you are, mhm.”
“t—tojiiiii,” you’d mewl out right against the flapping shell of his ear. your cunt felt so stuffed, a straining exhale snatches from your lungs before you whimper once his base kisses against your ass. his base was so full, you only imagined how much build up cum was stored in there just for you.
“t—tojiiiiiii,” he mimics your tone as you mash against him, the sofa he sits on sinking down a bit from both weights combined. you pout once he starts mocking you, a gruff laugh dies from his throat before he squeezes your right ass cheek. “feels good, yeah? keep moanin’ for me like that.”
“shut up, s-shut uppp,” you moan, burying your face into his neck. doing so, you get a concise whiff of his cheap cologne and it smells so good. you’re a mess, spasming as your stomach continues to seize before he grabs both of your hips so that you could slam down onto him even harder. “close, toji. ‘m really close, fuck.”
he groans, feeling the hefty weight of his balls smack against your skin each time you move up, then down, then up . . . all over again. toji’s a big guy, it was no secret. the way your pussy constricts around his length, paving way for more movement . . . simply hypnotizing.
“yeahhh,” he snarls, strong hands still attached to your ass. green irises of his dilate, his eyes turn hooded for a second as he glances back at you. an entire mess, tongue all lolled out and you’re feeling it steadily about to approach. “look so fuckin’ dumb,” he points out with a subtle head shake, grabbing your chin again. “my dumb baby,” he corrects himself and your pout softens.
he’s so fucking big— you’ll point this out a million times if you have to, the stretch was so immaculate.
toji groans, pressing another saturated kiss onto your lips and you taste a brief mixture of his saliva and alcohol—presumably rum, you lean into his touch before feeling his big hands snake near your neglected tits. his growing stubble tickles against your face as you quicken your pace. so good, so fucking good.
all you can think about is that you’re getting off, you’re about to finish— gush out so much, you feel a familiar pit in your stomach arise. he feels you starting to shake and twitch, it’s cute.
“. . easy, now,” he teases, finding it adorable how whenever your orgasm approaches—you’d be an entire mess, pussy convulsing all on his cock as if it was the first time you ever took him. “oh my just look at that pout,” he points out, reaching towards your chin before bringing you all up close towards his face. not to mention, toji’s so pretty up close—ten times more intimidating with his low hazy eyes and wide sleazy smile. “such a baby. want me to talk ya through it?”
“p—please,” you whine, barely even giving him a chance to finish his seductive sentence.
with a playful eyebrow furrow, he makes you grind against him even harder. the sofa creaks and you squeak out a whimper, feeling yourself about to make such a mess. “please, please,” he copies your tone again, and it’s so embarrassing. toji purposely pitches his tone to sound like you and he snickers at the growing glare on your face. “please what, babygirl?”
with an irritated grumble, your flimsy arms still thrown over him, you moan out a desperate, “please let me c-cum. toji, i want it s’bad, pleaseplease let me be a messy girl.”
“. . . ahhhh,” he parts his lips, and he’s oh so dramatic, flickering his eyes towards the ceiling as if he’s deep in thought. “let me think about it.”
you didn’t know how much you could take, you’re sopping wet and his raspy deep voice that was right up against your earlobe doesn’t make things any better.
jagged breaths rip out from your esophagus as your shaky limbs could barely keep themselves up. he cackles, feeling your soft quavering lips kiss near his face, brushing against the scar that runs near the right lower part of his lip. it twitches as a response from your touch, how cute..
“hurry the fuck up then, lay it all on me,” he finally grunts, witnessing the way your dilated irises light up at his sudden permission— you whimper out, finally coming undone and it’s like a rough wave that crashes over you. the calm before the storm, once it comes, you’re left pulsating with his thick dick still buried inside of your cunt. you hug him tight with your walls like a vice, never wanting to let go. “you make such the silliest noises, girl.”
“s— shut up,” you moan, the under parts of your thighs aching heavily as you’re still in the midst of your teeth-shattering release. it feels so good, your maw drops and the contracts inside of your pussy only duplicates. it’s mouth watering, you grind against him just slightly and he spanks your ass, head going back. “i- i love you, toji.”
“i love me too,” he jibes with a cocky grin, sweat beads racing down the sides of his brow. you shoot him a glare and he rolls his eyes for the nth time. “. . kidding,” and he plants a kiss near your forehead, rough hand still attached to your right ass cheek like velcro. “i love you too, sweetheart.”
you’re still panting, but he’s clearly not done talking— it’s toji, figures.
“now bend the fuck over,” he grouses, eyes gazing towards your ass— a tongue goes against his lips like he was preparing for an appetizing meal. “i’m not finished. we gotta work on that lazy arch of yours, girl.”
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rowarn · 2 months
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cw: gun play, throat fucking with a gun im sorry, simon coming untouched, masturbation (reader) I NEEDED TO GET THIS OUT OF MY BRAIN SO unedited
simon with a gun kink that he's kept hidden would be crazy.
imagine ur big, beefy husband coming home after a long deployment. he's tense, his fists are clenched tight and it's clear he's got a ton of steam he needs to blow off.
at first, you expect a normal night together of him plowing you into the mattress so hard that the bed creaks and hits the wall with every thrust. the kind of fucking that leaves you trembling for 15 minutes after you've finished and cleaned up. the kind that has him pulling you into his arms to soothe and coo at.
but something is different this time.
he starts removing his gear one by one as usual but instead of removing the holster with his gun and safely placing it down, he unholsters the gun completely.
you're watching with bated breath as he unloads the weapon, carefully pulling it back and peering into the chamber. you're watching his hands move, admiring how strong his fingers are and how the veins in his hands bulge out with every movement
you deviously excited by the time he approaches you -- the gun still in his hand.
he brings it up, placing the nozzle against your chin, finger hovering off the the trigger. but you know how well-trained he is -- how good he is at his job. you know that he could have that finger on the trigger in a milisecond, faster than you would even be able to comprehend.
"open," he orders, a voice that sends shivers down your spine. it's firm, rough, authoritative. it's a tone you imagine he uses when he's on the field.
soliders bow to his every whim and you're no better. but unlike those who are trained to obey him because it's their job -- you obey him because you know if you do, you'll get the sweetest reward in the world; that thick, full cock still hidden in his pants.
your panties are already wet and sticky and your brain’s already feeling fuzzy by the time you open your mouth. 
the shock of cold is the first thing you recognize followed by the tang of metal as the weapon settles on your tongue. your lashes flutter as you look up at your husband, face still obscured by his balaclava but his pretty, brown eyes burn holes into you nevertheless.
he slowly and carefully slides the gun deeper into your mouth until it presses against the back of your throat and you involuntarily gag. a groan rips from his cheeks as he watches the tears gather on your lashline.
"that's it, pretty," he coos, "bet you wish that was my cock huh?" you nod your head as best you can with the weapon lodged in your throat, "maybe i'll give it to you if you put on a real nice show for me."
his words take a moment to register in your fuzzy brain but once they do, your hand is flying down between your legs at record speed. you slip it beneath the band of your panties, barely lifting his shirt that you're wearing out of the way so you can finally find relief in the ache that has settled in your cunt.
your folds are wet and sticky as they part around your fingers and you struggle to swallow around the gun in your mouth. there's no give to the metal and drool begins to dribble down your shin in long, thin strings.
simon's cock is hard, heavy and leaking against his thigh. this has been one of his best kept secrets, to watch you submit to his gun -- to the weapon he has used to murder countless people with.
and here you were, doing as you're told, throating his gun while you play with your pretty cunt. he can hear how wet you are, can see the way you desperately hump your own hand trying to get your fingers deeper and deeper. but they'll never feel as good as his, you both know this.
so all you can do is tearfully look up at him through clumped lashes as you choke and gag on the gun he continues to keep stuffed down your throat.
his cock throbs at the thought of being where his weapon is now. he envies it.
you mutter something, muffled and incomprehensible but he knows what you're saying. he can see the way your pupils blow out, hear the way your breathing grows erratic and choppy. you're trembling and breathless, messily jerking your hips into your own hand as you desperately look up at him -- begging for anything to push you over the edge.
his finger finally lands on the trigger of his gun and he sees your eyes widen but the desperate, teary look you give him only tells him more of what you need.
there's a muted, empty click when he pulls the trigger. the gun is empty, you both know this -- but it sends you over the edge anyway.
simons cock twitches and twitches, balls tight and heavy before he's spurting his load down his thigh at the sight of you cumming on your own fingers and moaning around his gun.
the hand holding the weapon trembles as he cums untouched at the entire scene. you pull your head back, gasping for air before pulling your hand out of your panties.
simon lurches forward, you don't even have time to react before he's taking the sticky, messy, cum-covered fingers into his mouth.
he's on top of you, pressing you down beneath his weight, the gun tossed and forgotten on the bed because now all he can think about is fucking you into the mattress. <3
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beaunoor · 2 months
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You tell you bf fingering doesn’t get you off, he proves otherwise
"Well how do you usually get off when I'm not here?" He chuckles in disbelief at what you had just admitted to him.
"I don't know, I just don't," You say with a light chuckle and look away in slight embarrassment.
The revelation that you would wait for him to come back home to you and fuck you had him hardening in his pants. There was no way his baby went on without any relief.
-
"Come on baby, you can do it."
Your right arm is tired from locked position you have it in as your middle and ring finger move in and out of your hot, wet pussy. Your forehead is glistening in sweat and your chest moves up and down with heavy breathes as you lay your head back onto his shoulder as he sits behind you on the bed. You could almost cry as you've been trying to get off for the past thirty minutes.
You let out a frustrated whine when you can feel the ache of your fingers, scared of loosing the arousal, you pull them out. The slick clinging on makes you shiver.
"I-I can't do it anymore. Please!" You cry out and look up towards his face to make him see your desperation.
But when you look up you see his eyes on your sex, eyebrows furrowed, an almost angry look on his face. He breathes out of his nose before his hand replaces your own, his two fingers slipping right in and move at a faster pace than what you were doing.
"So wet baby, look at this. Why can't you get off like good girl?" You let out a shaky moan as you looked down, watching his hands play at your cunt. His fingers reaching places you couldn't reach and the other hand rubbing on your swollen clit. You then feel his lips on your neck, kissing and licking, all the sensations making tears form in your eyes.
“So pathetic, can’t even do it yourself. Look how you writhe baby.” He chuckles, hearing the squelching at the pace he was going. You begin writhing, body moving in jolts at the sensation of your orgasm coming.
"Uhn! I- I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"
“My poor baby, how long have you gone without getting off, huh? Don’t worry I got you. Need another one from you.” He coos
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pulled this out of drafts to give new followers something, almost done with uni for the summer so I can focus on finishing writing the bigger projects
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linoveins · 14 days
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silky shorts and stained shirts
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when best friend!minho sees fem!reader in revealing clothes for the first time…
genre: smut n fluff
warnings: masturbation, perversion, dom/sub fantasies. minors, do not interact!!
w.c.: 2.1k
minho often visits your place unannounced. at some point you just gave him a key and he gladly takes advantage of it. just like today.
minho just got back from dance practice and decided to raid your apartment for some food since he forgot to do groceries and he's feeling too lazy to do them now. 
“Y/N!!!” he announces his arrival, strolling through the door like it’s his place like always.
the apartment is too silent. he figures you’re not home yet. you had a lecture around this time so he wasn’t really expecting you to be here.
he opens your pantry in attempts of finding something quick to eat but clicks his tongue at the lack of food that greets him. seems like you didn’t do your groceries too. he heads to the fridge, hoping for a miracle, and his eyes practically sparkle at seeing a cup of his favorite pudding.
he opens it up, a joyous look resting on his face like a child finding a hidden stack of candy. he makes himself comfortable on your couch, happily chewing on the sweet treat while turning on the television.
he laughs to himself. you’d definitely be annoyed at him for eating your dessert.
deciding to be even more annoying, he gets his phone and takes a video of himself happily munching on the pudding he stole.
“nomnomnomnom.” he chews in front of the camera tauntingly and sends you the video with a mischievous grin on his face.
“ding!” what the hell? the unexpected notification sound coming from your room makes him jump. he gets off the couch and goes to your room to inspect. he already guesses you're probably in there, choosing sleep over attending a minor class. it has happened too many times. you'll always regret it afterwards. he'll definitely scold you for skipping your lecture.
minho opens the door, ready to wake you up, and his heart just drops to his belly.
there you are, in deep sleep, in the thinnest shorts he’s ever seen you in. he hasn't even seen you in any piece of clothing that stops above halfway of your thigh. the loose strap of your camisole had fallen off your shoulder. your legs are tangled with the blanket, one of it hitched over the material, and his knees almost buckle at the bit of cleavage your position subjected you to.
you’re a restless sleeper. he has a whole album in his phone of you in weird positions while asleep. he playfully threatens you that he’ll post some on your birthday when you annoy him with your antics but he never does, wanting to keep the funny and adorable sight to himself.
although what he’s seeing right now is not funny at all. his cock twitches in his pants almost immediately. he blinks three or four times in shock before he finally closes your door, cursing at himself and running to the bathroom.
since when did you look like that?
had your thighs always looked that fucking soft? he groans at the apparent feeling of his sweatpants getting tighter. he has to collect himself.
but he wants to grab your thighs... spread you for him maybe. you’d look so pretty. would you shiver if he touches you higher? and your tits…
“shit.”
he now has an erection in your bathroom, right after staring at your exposed body for much longer than he should have (not long enough, he thinks and buries deep), and right after eating the last cup of pudding you had.
what a horrible friend he is.
he sighs and palms himself. yeah, he’s horrible. he’ll buy you two extra cups of pudding later but he has to take care of his problem for now before he loses his mind. 
he bites his lip, trying to keep quiet as he pushes his pants down. he palms his twitching cock and hisses.
minho gathers all the shame left in him and turns on your faucet to muffle the sounds he knows he’s gonna make eventually. upping your water bill while he jacks off to the thought of your sleeping form...
what a damn horrible friend.
he gently gathers the pre-cum from his tip and spreads it over his cock. he groans. don’t think about her, don’t think about her, don’t think about her… he repeats it in his head as if his cock will listen.
shit, your bathroom smells like you, of course. his cock jumps at the memory of your smell, now invading his senses, and he gives up on trying to be decent and just closes his eyes, thinking of you sprawled out so vulnerable and pretty. 
he’s squeezes the base and he strokes. his thoughts go back to your thighs. your perfect fucking thighs… shit, if he could only push them together and fuck his cock in between them. would you squirm? he bets you will. you can’t even take a massage without squirming. you'll squirm on it, alright.
he keeps the pace rather slow, trying to make the fantasy last as long as possible. he decides he can feel guilty about it all he wants after. 
he's sure you’d go shy on him. you’d whine and complain about it being too big. he squeezes at the base. he’d coo at you. maybe he’ll grind it on your pussy first. he bets you’ll really squirm at that. but he’ll keep you in place. he’ll hold your thighs down. fuck. your soft fucking thighs. he grips himself harder. 
he won’t take your cute little shorts off. he’ll push the fabric aside and rub his heavy cock on you. you’d be so fucking wet, he thinks. so wet for him. he strokes a bit faster. he hopes you’d be so fucking sensitive too. he’d tap it on your clit. no- he groans. he’ll slap it on you. you'd whine so prettily, won't you? moan his name with your gentle voice? you'd get wetter. he'll make sure of it. he'd spread you and fucking hump his cock on your cunt for all he's worth. you would be so fucking wet. shit. 
you’d cry and tell him you're too sensitive. he'd hum in your ear, “poor baby”, in the sweetest fucking tone you’ve heard. but he won’t stop. you don't want him to. he’ll push his cock on it harder. you would grip onto his thighs, whimpering like a good girl.
minho's hand cramps from his harsh strokes. he switches to his other hand and tugs on it at a faster pace. you'd drool and bite on your lips, he can almost taste it. he decides he'll pull down the other strap of your top until your tits fall out. he keeps up the pace. he’s almost there. he'll fondle them. he knows they’re soft too. they'll be so soft and perfect in his rough palms. he’d pinch and squeeze and hold and fucking grope while his dick runs over and over your clit. you’d keep whining about how it’s too much. too sensitive. too intense. but you’ll love it, won't you? you'll beg him for more. he’ll laugh at you all sweet and condescending. “can’t even take it and i’m just rubbing on you? can this pretty pussy even handle me inside?” you'll pout at him for that and he'll follow eventually.
he’d keep playing with your tits. he'd use his mouth eventually. licking and sucking on it. you’ll try to muffle your sounds but you wouldn’t be able to. no, not when his cock would still be all over your messy cunt. he pants, biting on his lip. he’s almost fucking there. he’d take things further. maybe bite on your nipple while twisting and tugging the other one. then he'll do it. oh, you'll scream so good when he rams himself inside you without warning. you'll be latching onto him, clenching and whimpering and cumming fucking hard on his cock.
minho cums right after his image of you. his vision blurs. it’s dizzying. hot liquid squirts all over his shirt, coating his hand. goodness, there’s a lot of fucking cum. he leans back on the door with a sigh, cock out and softening, guilt still far away after having one of the hardest orgasms he’s ever had.
a moment passes and he washes his hands. he washes his face too. his red ears and neck was an embarrassing sight. he gathers himself, and there it is. the guilt.
he realizes he made a mess of his shirt. he needs to get his shit together. he won’t risk the possibility of you seeing him in his cum-stained shirt. minho comes out of the bathroom, shirt in his hand. he’ll just quickly grab one of his hoodies in your closet. 
he enters your room, glaring hard at the closet like it's a life and death situation. he tiptoes across your room, not risking to look at you again.
he reaches the cabinet handle. quickly and quietly, he takes a hoodie. success.
“minho?” your gentle voice startles him out of his internal battles at the moment. “why are you naked?”
he puts on the hoodie, still avoiding looking at you while he closes the cabinet.
“spilled something on it.”
you blink. then you stretch while letting out a moan. he takes a deep breath.
you get up from the bed and go outside. he rolls his dirty shirt in his hand and follows you to the kitchen.
fuck. there you are again. you’re bending over, checking the damn fridge and he clenches his jaw so hard it feels like it's gonna break.
“did you eat my pudding?” you huff at him. he exhales.
“yeah. s-sorry. i’ll buy you two after”, he says, guilt-ridden, and you just stare at him for 5 seconds. shit, do you know about the other thing? it's not likely..
you laugh. “calm down. why do you look all pouty?” you think it’s odd. minho would usually poke fun at you for him eating your food. minho just blinks at you. you shrug and you just look for at least a snack.
“i forgot to do groceries… i won’t have shit to eat tonight”, you say, opening your pantry and finding nothing. you open your fridge again, then you open your pantry again as if food will mysteriously appear the second time you do it. 
he’d make fun of you for it if he wasn’t so distracted by your nipples poking through your camisole, the light from the kitchen making it visible and inviting. nope. you deserve the courtesy of him being normal.
he grips his dirty shirt that he’s still somehow holding onto. you don’t even seem to care about your little attire. you're so comfortable in his presence and here he is he feels warmth pool in his belly again. he blinks and stares at your face instead.
“y-yeah. i have to do groceries too. how about you go with me later? let’s eat at that new place near uni first”, minho says, trying to speak as non-chalant as possible.
“mhm okay. i’m hungry as hell though so let’s go now. i’ll just get changed”, you say as you walk back to your room.
you pass by him and suddenly grab his dirty shirt from him and he panics. he grabs it back a bit aggresively.
“hey! what the-”, you start but he interrupts you.
“sorry. it’s just really dirty”, he quickly says, gripping the shirt tightly so you won’t try doing anything again.
“yeah that’s why i’ll put it in the laundry bin. gimme.” you tug at the shirt he's holding while looking at him confused.
“i-i can wash it. besides, you’ll steal it from me and i like this shirt very much.” he doesn’t. and even if he did. he liked that you took his things. but he puts on a teasing smile anyway so you’ll buy his excuses. you just roll your eyes at him with a smile and shut your door to get changed.
minho sighs in relief. he goes outside your apartment to bury the evidence of his... perversions. he tosses the stained shirt into the bin outside, burying it under the other plastic bags. 
even after destroying evidence, it doesn't make him less guilty of the deed. he'll try not to think about it. it'll be easy. he'll get over it.
he comes back inside your apartment, and there you are again, all pretty in your ridiculous baggy pants and one of his hoodies you stole, all cute with a pout on your face as you frown at your phone when you hear the little “nomnomnomnom” sound come from it.
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a/n: this is my first fic (drabble?) ever. pls bare with me. i made this account just to read but i got distracted seeing lino's ig story. he's sooooo fucking cute i had to write something. also idrk how to do warnings let me know if there should be something else there (^人^)
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seravphs · 1 year
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO SATORU x FEM READER
Gojo “my girl is mad at me I hope I die” Satoru
wc — 600
tags — fluff, companion piece to modern intimacy so you’re also married in this one, love as annoyance 
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Gojo looks like he tried to drown himself in the shower. 
If you hadn’t just mopped the floor, you might be tempted to give in and beckon him over to cuddle. As it is, your annoyance is only mildly tempered by how adorable he is. You suspect this was his plan all along. 
“Go dry your hair,” you tell him coldly, hardly even giving him a glance after his first step into the room. 
He pouts, which you were expecting. He should really learn some new tricks at this point. You make a shooing gesture at him to drive home the point. 
Instead, he clambers down next to your feet, all six feet and two inches of him compressed down to fit his head into your lap. Gojo’s so lanky it gives you the impression of a Jenga tower collapsing in on itself to watch him get on his knees. 
“But you’re mad at me,” he whines. Chilly droplets are seeping into your thighs. 
“I’ll be madder if you keep getting my pants wet. Go on, you’ll catch a cold.” 
“I deserve it.” 
“Gojo.” 
You say it as if you’re short of patience, when really, you’re far from it. You’re enjoying this way too much. 
He turns his head so he can look up at you. His hair falls into his eyes, making him look like a sad, wet puppy, shivering at your feet for mercy. It’s an act, of course. 
He’s the strongest man in the world. Still, you feel your heart melting as you would for any poor abandoned creature. You brush his bangs out of his face, trying to hold onto your weakening resolve. 
He knows he’s got you. It’s just a matter of time. 
“I can’t live with myself,” he says. “If you’re going to be mad at me, you should just kill me. It would be easier-“ 
“Don’t be dramatic,” you say, but that’s when he strikes the killing blow. 
He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just looks at you with eyes that are suspiciously shiny, his pretty pink lips in a soft frown. You sigh and put the book you were trying to read down. 
“Go get the hairdryer.” 
Gojo perks up immediately. You stay on the sofa. He sits on the ground between your legs as you run your hands through his hair, moving section by section. It fluffs up as hot air moves over it. 
“Are you still mad?” 
“Want to take a guess?” 
He turns around so fast he almost hits himself in the face with the hairdryer in your hand. 
“I’ll never do it again, I swear.” 
“You swear?” You’re teasing. 
Gojo places one hand over his heart and raises the other like he’s making a pledge. You’re the only nation he’d ever devote himself to, anyway. “You know my motto is happy wife, happy life.” 
“I don’t know, actually.” You laugh. “Did you just come up with that?” 
“Now you’re just being mean,” he says. 
“I’m glad you picked up on it,” you say dryly. 
You like him pathetic. It appeals to your worst nature, the one that kind of wants to pinch him just to see him cry. You don’t know when you developed such feelings, and you’re certainly not sadistic towards anyone else, but Gojo just provokes you. It’s what he does. He’s good at being annoying. 
But you love that part of him, just as much as you love the part of him that can’t live without your attention. 
“You really learned your lesson?” You ask. “You won’t do it again?” 
“And go through this again? You kidding?” 
You pinch his cheek in annoyance, but he just laughs and wraps his arms around you, ignoring the way you try to wriggle away. 
“Your hair isn’t dry yet!”
“Doesn’t matter,” he says, rubbing his cheek against yours. His shampoo smells good. “Happy husband, happy wife.” 
He knows you too well for you to disagree. 
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kiwicopia · 5 months
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🔞 MDNI | Kinktober: Gloryhole/Stuck 🔞
🎃 Dilf!Gojo x Babysitter!Fem!Reader 🎃
TW: Mentions of cheating (not reader), creampie, squirting, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, Gojo eating out from the back, a bit of roughness, Gojo taking advantage of reader, age difference (early-thirties Gojo, mid-twenties reader), mentions of breeding, Megumi is adopted.
tags: @shes-so-insane @stygianoir @uzxotic
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For as long as you could remember, Gojo was always a respectable man and employer. He paid you more than what you thought was the regular amount for babysitting little Megumi, yet he always dismissed your words whenever you told him how you thought it was too much. The man was well off—very well off—and he didn’t mind being more than a little generous to the woman that took care of his child while he was at work. Honestly, if his wife hadn’t been caught sleeping with another man, you wouldn’t have this job in the first place. You felt bad about what happened, even if it was two months ago, yet you were grateful for the job opportunity that came out of it—but then came changes.
Longing glances turned into small, fleeting touches when being handed things or giving him stuff. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but it didn’t take long for you to eventually piece things together. Honestly, it felt like something to be expected after having divorced his wife, but you couldn’t do that to your employer. Could you? No, it felt wrong, especially since he was already more than generous with your pay. Still, you could never forget the looks or gentle touches he gave you. 
A small huff fell from your lips as you cleaned up the playroom. Megumi had already been put to bed after feeding and bathing him, so now all that was left to do was to tidy up the house before his father came home. Most of the toys had been picked up off the floor and put away, yet there were still a few that remained inside the little cubbyhole the child liked to hide in. You huffed again, lowering yourself to your knees before crawling inside to retrieve the last of the toys. It was a tight fit, considering it was meant for a toddler, so you panicked when trying to crawl back out, only to realize that you were stuck. 
No matter how much you pushed your body backwards, your position in the cubbyhole didn’t change, and you frowned. For what seemed like hours, yet was just mere moments, you struggled to get out of your little predicament. It was embarrassing, and that feeling intensified when the lock on the front door jingled before the door opened. Gojo’s footsteps were faint as he traipsed through the kitchen, and your heart pounded in your chest when his footfalls came closer and closer to the playroom. The door slid open, and your body froze as he spoke. “What are you doing?” He asked. 
You bit down on your bottom lip, almost reluctant to answer, considering how embarrassed you were. “I’m stuck,” you answered. He chuckled and you felt your face heat up. “I was cleaning up the playroom, and Megumi left some toys in his cubbyhole.” The explanation of your predicament only made him chuckle even more, and you felt a shiver run up your spine after he approached and trailed a finger down the middle of your back. 
“Mm,” he hummed. You couldn’t see the way he stared down at you with tired, yet hungry, azure eyes. His poor, little babysitter got herself stuck. The man felt like it was his lucky night. His hands then placed themselves against the curve of your ass before he gently squeezed, pulling out a small yelp from your lips. “I bet you want me to help you.” His hands squeezed again, his fingers digging lightly into you. “Do you want some help?” He asked. 
“Yes,” you answered softly. Honestly, you shouldn’t have expected him to outright pull you out of the cubbyhole, because he didn’t. In one swift move, his fingers hooked themselves underneath the hem of your pants and panties, yanking them down without hesitation. “S-Sir?” 
“Shh,” he cooed. His hands slid down to your pussy, and he chuckled as his thumbs pulled apart your folds, revealing a hint of wetness. “Naughty girl. Must have been waiting for this, yeah?” Your lips parted, yet rather than words that came out, a sharp gasp took their place as his tongue licked a thick stripe up your cunt. His tongue repeated the action again, only this time the tip of the muscle pressed down against your clit as he licked. It brought forth a soft moan, and your ass wiggled as you squirmed against him. Gojo chuckled again before his tongue plunged inside of you, tasting you fully now. You couldn’t help it when another, albeit louder, moan slipped out, which prompted him to pull away from your sopping hole. “Quiet,” he told you. “We don’t want to wake Megumi, now do we?” 
Your front lowered as your chest settled against the floor of the cubbyhole while your hands clamped over your mouth. This caused your ass to rise a little higher, and the man smirked lightly at that before he resumed eating you out. It had been too long since he last tasted another woman and having to juggle work and his child left little to no time for him to hook up with anyone. Then you came along. The memories of your sweet smile and soft giggles when he caught you playing with his son, or even tucking him in. Fuck, just thinking about how much you mothered his child got his cock hard. You were so good to little Megumi—better than the whore that cheated on him—and a sudden thought caused him to groan against your cunt as he now lapped at your folds. 
You moaned into your hands as his tongue licked you relentlessly, and the thought of how wrong this was turned you on even more. Your stomach knotted as a rush of heat swarmed your body, lighting every single nerve on fire as pleasure steadily filled it. Why his wife ever cheated on him, you would never understand. He knew exactly what he was doing; applying pressure to your clit every so often while his tongue constantly dove in and out between your folds. Gojo’s pleasing felt better than any of your exes ever did, and it wasn’t long before your body felt like bursting right then and there, and he knew it. 
A small whine slipped from your lips when he pulled away. You were close, so close, and he just stopped. It felt unfair. “Not yet,” he told you. His body shifted and you heard the zipper of his pants before feeling the head of his cock at your entrance. He rubbed it against your folds, coating it with your slick before sliding in effortlessly. The way your warm walls enveloped his cock had him groaning, and his hands squeezed your ass the further he pushed himself into you, stopping only when he bottomed out. The entire ordeal felt so unreal, and you moaned into your hands when he pulled back halfway, only to slam back into you with enough force to rock you forward. You then removed one hand from your mouth and gripped the small, plastic chair within the cubbyhole as he fucked into you. Gojo groaned again at the way your cunt kept pulling him back into you. “So tight and needy,” he breathed out. 
Your other hand fell from your lips, your nails scraping against the flooring of the cubbyhole as the mixed sounds of your moans, his groans, and his balls slapping against your ass filled the playroom. “Gojo,” you mewl, eyes half-lidded and back arched slightly the more his dick bullied your hole. 
“Satoru,” he said, correcting you. His jaw clenched the more your pussy swallowed him, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way your ass jiggled the more he pounded into you. “You better call me Satoru from now on.” From then on, all that left your lips was a series of wanton moans and his name. Over and over, up until the end. “Fuck,” he groaned, slamming into you one last time. Your cunt squeezed him hard, milking him for every drop of cum he had, and you cried in pleasure as you came with him, coating his cock in your juices. The two of you stayed like that for a little longer before he slowly pulled out, and he gently tugged your body backwards, pulling you free from the cubbyhole. The man zipped himself up as your worn-out body slumped back against him, and he chuckled before scooping you up into his arms. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 
You hummed softly and stared up at him with tired eyes. Gods, you looked so cute all fucked out, and the thought of keeping you entirely filled his head. He could knock you up. That would let him keep you, and you were already great with Megumi. Yeah, he could do that. 
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jungkookstatts · 6 months
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All Over Again
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[Summary]: Paternity leave has its effects on Jungkook. After his first day back at work, he can't help but show you how much he doesn't want to go back.
[Theme]: Dad!Jk, CEO!Jk, Married Couple AU, Parent's AU
[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes. Marking, kissing, nipple play, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up y'all), dom!JK, mentions of another pregnancy, talks of pregnancy and getting pregnant, etc.
[Word Count]: 4,274
[A/N]: This is a pure result of the urge my body suddenly gets to want a child right before my period smh. Anyway, felt cute, might delete later once I am sane.
It’s been a long ass day. Jungkook’s white button-up feels stapled to his skin, his pants folding uncomfortably with every step he makes as he exits his office. A long finger comes up to his neck, digging underneath his striped tie, wiggling it a little to loosen the chokehold it has around his neck. His other hand feels bound to his briefcase, which carries so much importance in his life but yet so much burden at the same time.
It’s his first day back at work after his baby boy was born. The briefcase he holds reminds him of the duty he has to his family — of his passion and his support for you and your baby. But it also reminds him of the time it has ripped away from spending with you. He clutches it with so much strength at the thought of you, pulling his car keys out of his pocket and pressing the unlock button so hard, that he thinks he almost might just break it.
With a deep breath, he takes off his tie and tosses it in the passenger seat along with his briefcase. He’s ready to go home. That picture of you, him, and your son that you insisted on framing and Jungkook bringing to work has been a constant reminder of what he has to look forward to at the end of the day. If only his paternity leave could have been longer. You and his son are all he’s been able to think about. How you were doing, if you needed his help, if Jaemun was being feisty, how the cute crinkle on his nose resembles yours to a T.
It’s late January, and the winter air is unforgiving. He wonders if you have the heat on high enough; if Jaemun had enough blankets, or if the tip of your nose was cold like how it always is in the winter months. He can imagine you holding him close, swaddling him as you sing to him delicately. The thought makes his whole body warm, even though the air is so cold that it feels like glass is cutting against his skin.
He’s convinced he will take more time off. He’s the CEO, after all. He could take months off and it not matter. He wants to be with you always — at all times of the day to hold you and be there for you like he should be. If only the world had been that easy to where passions didn’t have a price. He got lucky, his passion having a heavy penny attached to it. But he wonders where that passion took something more valuable away from him — time. He finds himself now strapped between the choice of time and passion, and he fights the fact that he cannot choose both.
The door to your home is welcoming to his eyes as he pulls up to it. It’s not big by any means. Just homey and enough for the three of you. Even with the snow covering almost every inch of it, the reminder of how warm it is on the inside makes his drive to enter it even greater. He does so with a shiver, coming up to your shared home with a stomp of his boots to shake off the snow just before he enters.
To his surprise, he’s met with hushed music coming from the kitchen as he puts his winter coat on the hook, places his briefcase on the wooden floor, and shimmies out of his shoes. He looks at his watch first, making sure it’s not Jaemun’s nap time, to which he finds out it is. The soft music makes sense now, and he smiles when he makes his way down the hallway to the source of the noise.
The rest of the house is dark except for the kitchen-living room area that you and your baby rest in. Jaemun is peacefully sleeping in his bassinet by the couch, cuddling his dinosaur blanket, while you are by the stove, stirring something.
You look over your shoulder at the sound of familiar footsteps, and your heart immediately softens at the sight of your husband in the doorframe. He smiles back tiredly, running his hand through his hair in an exhausted attempt to pull himself together before he makes his way over to you. He looks relieved, like he’s finally received what he’s wanted all day. You’re happy to see him, knowing all too well that that’s what you’ve been waiting for all day, too.
Big, warm hands slide around your waist, a heavy chin rests on your shoulder as he kisses your cheek softly. He takes a deep breath, breathing in your presence as he releases the tension from work off his shoulders. You tend to have an instant effect on him — he missed you so much.
“You’re stirring water?” he laughs as he stares at the pot of water on the stove, unboiled, as you stir it as if it is.
“I’m trying to get it to boil quicker,” you explain with a defeated sigh. “Doesn’t seem to be working. I feel like I’ve been standing here for 20 minutes.”
He hums from behind you, taking your stirring hand and stopping your motions. You’ve never been a big cooker, but he knows you’ve been trying lately. “Just let it be, love. It’ll get there.”
You do as he says, putting the ladle down on the countertop and turning around in his embrace. You wrap your arms around his neck, staring at the tall man who holds you close against him. You’re met with a tired Jungkook who rests his forehead against yours as you play with the hairs at the back of his head.
“How was work?” you ask gently.
He groans, wrapping his hands around your waist and holding you tighter against him. It causes you to rest your cheek on his shoulder, hugging him in full.
“That bad?” you chuckle.
Your husband just sighs against your neck. “It’s too early to go back, Y/n,” he candors.
You tuck a strand of hair that fell in front of his face behind his ear. “We’re ok, Kook,” you comfort. But he only shakes his head, making the tucked strand fall out of its place again.
“I’m not,” he says. “I want to be here with you. Spend time with Jaemun before he’s suddenly 25.”
You chuckle at that. It does feel like that sometimes. It’s been three months since your son was born, but it feels like it was just yesterday that you were holding him for the first time.
You can only hold his cheek in response, running your thumb slowly against his soft skin. You feel for him, you really do. He’s such a good father. It makes your heartstrings tug and twist and pull every time you see him with your little boy. It’s only a matter of time before you have to go back to work as well. The thought makes your stomach turn, and you can completely sympathize with your husband dreading going back to work and leaving you and Jaemun.
“Your water is boiling,” he breaks you out of your daze.
“Oh,” you turn around. You smile, knowing he was right before. “I’m making pasta if that sounds ok?”
Jungkook kisses your neck in response, a gentle thing that has your tummy flipping for a second.
“You could also probably wake up our son,” you check the time on the microwave. “He’s been a little sleepy today, so I let his nap go for a little longer than usual.”
You add the pasta in and turn the water down, moving over to the greens left on the cutting board. You start chopping until your husband’s lips move lower.
“Our son,” he whispers, kissing your collarbone. The statement makes him jittery. It feels unreal still, even after nine months of waiting, and another three of actually having your little family here with him. You’re his wife, the mother of his kid, and he loves you more than anything in the world. You gave him something he can never find an equivalent to giving back to you. You gave him your heart and a family, and there’s nothing that can replace or overcome what that means to him. His soul lives for yours; it’s overwhelming what you’ve done for him. It’s overwhelming how you make him feel.
He kisses your collarbone softly once again, his heart full. You tilt your head to the side for more, and he gives it to you, kissing up your neck with slow wet kisses.
“Kook,” you exhale gently. You feel him hum against the skin just under your ear. Large palms cup your waist, his body moving closer to yours, trapping your hips against the countertop. Your knife feels loose in your hand when he bites at your skin gently, his tongue brushing over the bite mark afterward.
He stirs something within you. Something that you’ve missed terribly for the past few months. It makes your thighs tremble as he gently caresses your skin under his fingertips.
“The baby—“ you begin, but Jungkook’s motions cut you off yet again when his fingers slowly slide down your front. He’s unsure, his hand hesitating over your skin as his breath stops momentarily in thought.
“Is this okay?” He asks you genuinely. You nearly fall to your knees, dropping your knife onto the board, when his fingers put pressure over your clothed mound. It’s subtle, and much more gentle than what you’re used to with him. You know he’s being cautious, but god did you miss him. “If it’s too much, I’ll pull away.”
You shake your head.
It’s been a long time since the two of you have gotten intimate. Childbirth wasn’t easy, and your doctor just recently gave you two the “ok” for sex. The first time you tried since then wasn’t like what you’re used to with your husband. It was slow and painful, ending with a lot of apologies, embarrassment, and frustration. It’s safe to say that you have to get used to sex all over again.
“No,” you lean against him. “J-Just be gentle. I’m still a little sore.”
“Ok,” he whispers against your neck, kissing it softly. “Just relax for me, baby. I’ll make it feel good, I promise.”
You nod, loosening your nervous shoulders as your husband takes control. He stops swiftly for a second, turning the stove on the lowest setting before looking over his shoulder at his son to ensure he’s still fast asleep. Once he sees that he is, he immediately returns to you.
“So good for me,” he says, slowly circling your clit over your sweats. His other hand squeezes your waist before it moves up, sliding under your shirt and trickling over your breast. You’re wearing a soft bra today—one without an underwire—which makes it easier for him to slide his fingers under.
You whimper when he softly massages your boob, his fingers playing with your nipples gently. Your body, especially your breasts, has become 10x more sensitive since birth. You can feel everything, and everything either hurts or feels really really good. Whenever your husband seems to hold them, you’re a whimpering mess, melting like putty in his arms as he plays with you.
“Sensitive,” Jungkook smiles. His fingers rub harder against you, and you subtly buck your hips against him. His lips graze against your skin, his hair tickling your collarbone as he assaults your neck over and over again. 
“You’re so cute when you’re pregnant,” he rasps against your cheek before planting a sweet kiss upon it. “Wanna see you like that all the time. So full of me — carrying our babies.”
“Jungkook, I—” you whine, grasping onto his wrist. You’re unsure what to do with yourself, wanting him to do so much to you, but not knowing where to start.
The man behind you takes his hand away from your mound, and he chuckles when you whine in protest. But his thumbs hook on your pants and underwear, slowly pulling them down.
“Relax, baby,” he asks again. “I told you, I’m gonna take care of you. Don’t worry.”
His hand slides around your waist again, smoothing over your skin until it’s sliding between your folds. The back of your hand comes up to your mouth as your other grips the countertop for support as he plays with you.
“So wet,” he moans, feeling the effect he’s had on you with his fingers. “This all for me? I’ve barely touched you yet.”
You nod, feeling completely at the mercy of the man behind you. His other hand plays with your nipple again, and you feel another wave of euphoria go straight to your pussy.
His fingers gather your slick generously, smoothing it over your clit before circling it gently. He plays infinities over it, making your knees go weak. It’s getting harder to stay quiet, especially when he pinches your nipple gently, making you gasp at the soreness and pleasure it causes.
“K-Kook,” you whine, but he only chuckles, quickening his motions on your clit as he presses further into you. You can feel his dick strained against his work pants, and the thought of him inside you again makes you feel so needy for him. “Want you,” you pant. “Please.”
“Patience,” he shushes you, kissing your neck surely. “I haven’t even made you cum yet.”
“Wanna cum with you,” you whine in protest.
“You will,” he promises.
You gasp as he switches his finger, his thumb trading places with his middle. It circles over you just the same, except this time, it’s joined by his middle finger slowly inserting itself between your folds.
“Oh,” you exhale, feeling weak when he pumps it in and out of you slowly.
He lets himself test your reactions, seeing if the insertion is too much — if it hurts or feels uncomfortable. It doesn’t seem to be, and he slowly lets his ring finger join with his middle, causing you to roll your eyes back slightly.
“So good for me, baby,” he encourages. “Does that feel good?”
“Yes,” you reply almost immediately.
He kisses your neck. His lips leave hot, wet marks all over your skin as he curls his fingers against your g-spot. His other hand quickly comes to your waist, stabilizing you as you whimper against the back of your hand, trying your best to keep quiet.
He circles his thumb faster, his fingers circling and brushing against your g-spot in tandem with his movements. You feel your orgasm looming over you, and with a certain pressure against your clit, you’re coming undone just as he said you would all over his fingers.
“There you are,” he coaxes you. You’re a whimpering mess, and he feels his dick twitch at the sight of you falling apart on his fingers. He helps you ride out your high, his fingers very gently brushing over your clit as you come down.
Once you're calmed down, you reach around you, playing with his belt loop as you rest your head on his shoulder and look up at him. He looks back down, hesitating again knowing what you want but unsure if it’s too much for you to handle yet.
“What,” he smiles teasingly with a kiss to your forehead.
“I want you,” you candor, looking at up him with pleading eyes.
He kisses your nose. “Are you sure? You said it hurt last time.”
You nod. “Please, Koo,” you beg him.
His chest rises, and he takes a deep breath before he nods, kissing you gently as he unbuckles his belt. He places it on the counter before unzipping himself and pulling his pants down. It springs up, pressing itself against your skin gently. But he takes himself in his hands, hesitantly letting it slide down over your folds. 
“Let me know if I’m hurting you, okay?” He says, lining himself up to you with a few strokes of his cock. God, was he nervous. The last time sex hurt really bad for you, and that was just a week ago. He wonders if the prep was enough; he hopes it was, he really doesn’t want to hurt you again.
You nod, holding onto the countertop again as his tip rubs against your entrance. Your coat his cock in such slickness, even you’re surprised at how much you leak onto him. You miss your husband. You need this bad, and so does he.
“Oh, and try to stay quiet, yeah?” He says with a push of his hips. The motion has him covering your mouth with his hand, shielding your moans quickly. “The baby is still sleeping.”
His dick slips past your folds so smoothly, it has you gasping for breath at how good it feels. It’s nothing like the last time. He’s gentler, but still so so big, he fills you up just right.
“Fuck,” he whispers against your neck once he sheathes himself fully inside of you. The man behind you stills, completely overwhelmed with the feeling of you. He, too feels like he’s had to relearn sex all over again. How to please you right now that your body has changed, how to make sure that you are comfortable with his pace and size. You two haven’t had sex like this in so long, he feels overwhelmed when you feel almost too good for him to control. A part of him is embarrassed by how quickly he thinks he’s going to last. 
“How are you still so tight, hm?” he asks with a firm grip on your hip. “Y-You okay?”
You can only nod, pushing your hips down against him. The motion forces him further into you, to which both of you grunt at the feeling.
Testingly, Jungkook pulls out slowly, before pushing back into you a little quicker than before. You coat him generously, creating a motion that makes it easy for him to repeat. 
He develops a pace, fucking you against the kitchen countertop with your juices leaking all over his cock and down your thighs. The stove is on and your baby still sleeps; there are uncut vegetables in front of you and your husband still wears his work shirt. But he fucks you as if none of that matters. As if his only priority is to make sure you feel good, to let yourself go as he fuck you deep and just how you like it. 
His hand comes off from your mouth and settles on your hip. His other hand wraps around your front, holding you impossibly close against his body.
You moan softly when he bends you over slightly against the countertop, the new angle making it hard for you to stay quiet. But you push your hips against him anyway, telling him without words to go deeper.
The action causes him to moan, following your request with a snap of his hips.
“You like it that much, hm?” He grunts, cock ramming into you. “Like it when I knock you up good?”
“Y-Yes!” You whisper. “I love it so much, Koo.”
“Y-yeah?” He leans over you. A tattooed hand cups over yours, palm embracing the back of your hand as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Gonna let me do it again?”
“Mmhm,” you squeeze his fingers. “As many times as y-you want.”
“A-Ah,” he pants, mind going into a frenzy over your words. The fact that he is yours, that you are his. That only he can hear you say that. That only he can make you feel this good. That only he has the privilege of calling you his wife. It makes his heart warm and his cock twitch. 
“God, I’m going to ruin you if you say things like that, Y/n,” he warns. But you are relentless, leaning your head back on his shoulder, giving yourself to him further. 
“W-Want you to,” you whimper. “I love you.” 
Your legs shake, completely weak from your past orgasm and your new one forming at the pit of your stomach. His cock makes you feel so full, like you’re stretched to the max capacity as he fucks you good. You know he’s close when his dick twitches inside of you after your words, which only encourages you to gain some strength and begin fucking yourself back on his cock.
“Mm, fuck,” he grips your hips tightly. “M’ gonna cum.”
He quickly reaches around you again, drawing infinities over your clit with his middle finger. His eyes roll back as your cunt naturally tightens at the feeling. Your hips jolt and the knots in your tummy slowly start to unravel themselves onto his dick as you come undone. Just as he had promised, with a final twitch, he’s cumming inside of you with hot, thick ropes filling you up with whispered exhales of your name on his lips.
He lets the two of you catch your breath, his forehead resting on your shoulder before he’s pulling out, shared cum leaking down your thighs and onto the floor. Quickly, he grabs a paper towel from the roll next to the stove and cleans you up a little.
With gentle hands, he helps you back into your sweats before he helps himself into his boxers. He still lingers behind you when he reaches a hand around you and turns the stove on a higher setting once again. 
You turn around, wrapping your hands around his neck as you pull him in for a much-needed kiss. “I love you,” you whisper against him again. His hair falls onto your skin, dark locks intertangling with yours as his fingers come up to hold your face against his. Soft lips sear over yours, telling you things that simply cannot be put into words. 
“I love you, too,” he brushes his nose against yours. “Was that okay? I didn’t hurt you?”
You pause, looking up at his dilated pupils. He looks at you like you're his world; like he's given you his heart with the full intent of never receiving it back from you. You nod, kissing him softly again. 
“You should probably wake up your son now,” you poke his cheek.
Looking at the time on the microwave, he snaps out of his daze. “Oh fuck,” he says as his fingers leave your side. You watch him leave you with a chuckle, turning back to your pasta wondering how in the world you go so lucky to marry and mother a kid to this man. You’d truly give him anything he wanted. 
***
[Bonus]
With gentle hands, so big against his baby’s frame, he picks Jaemun up in his arms, holding him against his chest. His dinosaur blanket swaddles him softly, and Jungkook does his best to make sure he’s correctly supported and held despite the extra fabric over his small frame. 
Jaemun stirs, and Jungkook places a soft kiss on his tiny head before he gets the chance to freak out and cry. The baby seems to know exactly who is holding him, and he nearly falls back asleep at the familiarity of his father’s arms. But Jungkook bounces him against his chest softly, slowly waking him up for dinnertime.
He makes his way over to you, making unnecessary airplane noises, from what you assume is Jungkook pretending to be an airplane and his son the passenger.
“You know, babies can’t laugh until they’re about 4 months,” you shake your head with a laugh.
“False,” your husband comes behind you again. “I swear he’s laughed before.”
You chuckle, taking the pan off the stove and pouring the insides into a strainer. Just the noodles are left in the strainer now, and you realize that you haven’t thought past the part of boiling the noodles. You ignore that you have no idea what kind of pasta you’re making when Jungkook rests himself against the kitchen island. 
Jaemun catches sight of you, and his arm reaches for you in Jungkook’s hold. You come over, giving him a kiss on the forehead before kissing your husband.
“Were you serious?” your husband asks you suddenly. 
“About?” you raise your eyebrow. 
“You know,” he gulps, holding Jaemun a little tighter. He rests against Jungkook's shoulder, his eyes tempting to fall back asleep again. “More kids.” 
You raise both your eyebrows again, looking at him as if he was serious. His heart beats faster when he realizes what you’re thinking, quickly rephrasing himself. 
“N-Not now, of course,” he gulps. 
You turn around, opening the fridge for some milk for Jaemun as you listen to him. You take out a pot, take the cased breast milk from earlier, and pour it in, turning on the stove afterward. 
“I just mean, like, in the future,” he explains.
There’s a long pause as you wait for the pot to heat up enough. The man behind you is weak, and you don’t know if you want to be mean and give him the blunt answer, or soften the blow. Watching how he cradles your son makes you want to go with the first choice. 
“Don’t you worry Jeon,” you start, as you stir the contents in the pot. You can hear him gulp behind you. “I planned on giving you as many babies as you want. But at least wait until Jaemun is in pre-school or something. I don’t think I can handle two infants at once.” 
You hear little from him at your answer, leaving you smirking knowing full well that you put the man behind you in a frenzy imagining the future you just laid out for him.
***
[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]
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luveline · 10 months
Text
𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐠𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫
when an unknown intruder breaks into your apartment, you call hotch. he races to make it to you in time. requested here. fem!reader, 3.7k
cw home invasion, assault, attempted sexual assault, reader is badly hurt/held at gunpoint, please read with care for the content warnings above
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
"Hotch?" you whisper into the phone, your voice barely audible. 
"Who is this?" 
Hotch doesn't always look at who's calling at night, he just answers. Bad habit. You curl in on yourself where you're on your knees in the closet, trying not to wheeze breathlessly down the receiver. "Hotch, it's me. I need you to come and help me." 
"What's wrong?" He doesn't ask why you're whispering. "Are you at home?" 
"There's someone in my apartment." 
"You're sure?" 
You shift backwards into the embrace of your hanging coats and dresses. It feels as though tens of hands are petting your shoulders, a shiver racing along your spine as a floorboard creaks somewhere in your kitchen. 
"I heard them open my door. I don't have my taser, I…" You stop talking when you hear more movement, terrified you'll be discovered. Regret clings to you. How many times has Morgan offered to teach you self defence personally? "I don't know how they got inside."
It doesn't take more than that for Hotch to click into work mode. "Stay on the phone with me. Don't talk. I'm going to put you on hold to call Morgan. I will be ten seconds at most. Don't panic. Don't hang up. If you think you can leave without being seen or heard, leave, but if you can't, don't show him where you are." 
The invader's footsteps track to the bedroom. You know at once that your tired mind isn't hallucinating a bad scenario to keep you up —this is real. 
You had the hindsight to close your laptop and push it under the bed along with your go-bag, a rucksack full of clothes that you take on cases in different states as part of the BAU. You'd made a quick assessment —your job more than prepared you for this— based on the little information you had. Either the invader knows nothing about you and has assumed you'd be home, or they watch you enough to think you'd be elsewhere. If they think you're here, you're in danger of being assaulted, kidnapped, or murdered. If they think you're away, you're in danger of being robbed. One scenario is a thousand times more preferable than the other. 
You can't help but think of the horrible things you've seen. You know intimately what kind of damage one person can do to someone at their mercy. 
The hold sound is a quiet droning that freaks you out. If you can hear it, the intruder might be able to, too. Like the low hum of the fridge at night or the bumping of the dyer. 
You hang up the phone. 
"I know you're here." 
Your pulse flies through the roof. It pounds so hard you can feel it everywhere, the tip of your nose, your eyelashes. You look through the dark of your closet and panic in the fullest definition of the word. Your heart can't sustain this for long. 
You failed to think of a third possibility. The intruder watches you enough to know you're home. The BAU has a lot of enemies. Anyone could be waiting for you on the other side of the door.
"Come out and I'll be kind," the intruder sing-songs.
You type out a text with shaking hands, your message nearly illegible. 
They knowa 8m hjome. Cant talkk dontcall me
Thirty seconds elapse. A reply comes through. You smother the chirp with your chest. It sounds loud as a shot in the relative quiet. 
Police dispatch 5mins. I'm 10mins. Morgan 12. I will be there as soon as I can. Protect yourself 
That's easy for him to say. You drop your phone in defeat but scramble to pick it up again when you realise it's your best weapon. Or… You crawl to the opposite end of the closet to your shoe rack and slide the shoes apart with honey slow movements, your breath coming in quick, too-loud pants. You never expected to feel this way, you thought you'd know exactly what to do, how to react, but this feels outside of reality. 
You brace the long heel of a shoe between your fingers. Your hand is a vice. 
In your bedroom, the intruder goads you. "I know you're home, Y/N. There's only so many places for me to look, you know? But if you make me check each one, I'll be unhappy when I find you." 
What the fuck? you think. Breaking apart the fear like a knife is anger, a new shot of adrenaline. Who is this guy? You want to spring from the closet and show him how unhappy you are, but your chances of survival improve the longer you can hide. If he has a gun, that's it. You could be dead in the next two minutes. No amount of anger would save you. 
You could be dead in the next two minutes. 
thank you dpr everything, for being my friend aaron, you text. You know how embarrassing it will be to have said goodbye if nothing bad happens to you, but you also know how haunted Hotch will be if he can't get to you in time. You aren't foolish enough to unravel your feelings for him over text, but you're sentimental enough to think they'd matter to him. He'd want to know. 
If things go bad please knoeew that I loved my life and my work and you and the tram more than anything
After a moment, you add, If things don't go bad please nevrr mentiom this 
Footsteps at the closet door. A pause that feels gargantuan, the silence so heavy it threatens to snap the floorboards beneath your knees. 
"Found you." 
You leap up and throw yourself at the closet door as hard as you can, gasping when it swings on the hinges and clips your opposition in the leg. You don't think, you don't look at his face, you simply drive the point of your shoe into his collar. 
He gasps. Something hard and rigid whips upward, your neck snapping to one side as the skin of your cheek splits, gunmetal glancing off of bone. You drop down onto your ass, half out of necessity and half to get away from the pain. You can't outrun it, nor can you escape the forthcoming assault, grunting in shock as the bottom of the gun comes down atop your head. It was likely meant to incapacitate you, but all it does is hurt. 
You flip onto your front, stagger onto your hands and knees, and launch yourself up through the bedroom doorway. You only have to get away. 
He sweeps your legs from under you barely ten feet down the hall. 
You fall. Your knees hit the hallway slats and your face follows, the nerve endings in your teeth ringing one by one and your eyes tearing up as your nose makes a huge thwacking sound. Gasping, you rush to cover your face though the damage is done. Your gasp turns to a sob, hands quickly wetted by blood. 
"Stupid bitch," he hisses. 
You crawl into the kitchen. He steps on the back of your thigh. 
"I have a G43 pointed straight at the back of your fucking head."
"Good for you?" you say, eyes squeezed closed. 
You whimper as he grinds his foot into your leg. 
"Don't think I won't use it when I'm done with you." 
You shake your head from side to side. That can't be what he's here for.
You should ask him what he wants, or threaten him with the approaching police sirens. You should've tried to climb out of your fire escape. You should've set the door alarm as soon as you came home, but you're just so fucking tired lately you must've forgot. Everything feels like a chore. Right now, you're exhausted. 
"What are you going to do?" he asks you. 
You won't negotiate. You don't answer.
Forceful, no time to protect yourself, he kicks you in the side of the face. It hurts worse than the fall, that shattering pain like a firework under your skin. You struggle to keep your mouth shut, hoping that your whining cry is less audible to him than it is to you, scrambling backward toward the cabinets. You're defeated. Maybe you deserve it, for it to happen so easily. Three minutes and you're down. 
"I asked you what are you going to do, Agent?" 
"What am I supposed to say?" you ask. Even to your own ears, you sound pathetic. 
"Whatever I want you to. Now get up, honey." You cringe. "Unless you want to stay on the floor like a dog?" 
"Don't call me that," you say, wincing at the grinding sensation of your jaw. 
"What, a dog? Or… honey?" His tone is smug. "I thought you'd like that. It's what your boss calls you, isn't it? Late at night when he drops you off. Not strictly professional." 
You groan and turn onto your side. The police sirens are getting close. You live in a busy place near a main road, the sirens could be for anybody, but you need them to be for you.
"Get up, honey. You can pretend I'm him, if you like. I'll make it easy on you. I can be nice." 
You deliberate. Do as he says, or risk further agitation. Do what he says. Live to see the end of the night. 
Or drag it out. Give Hotch enough time to get here. 
"You'll pretend to be him?" you ask, sniffing. You can't tell if you're crying or there's blood on your face. 
"Aw. To begin with, sure." 
You sit up. For the first time, you look your attacker in the face. It's difficult to tear your eyes from the barrel, but you do. He has a cruel face, as tall and formidable as Hotch is but with none of his lightness. You put on your softest expression, gazing at him through tears. When you speak, the fear is real, even if you're attempting a facade. "You'll be gentle?" 
"No. You think he'd be gentle? Agent Hotchner?" His lip curls in disgust.
"I don't know," you mumble, looking down at the floor. "You said you'd be nice." 
"We both know you don't like nice." 
"I do," you say, finding your footing in the charade, the sorry victim, whatever he needs you to be for now. You hate giving him anything, but you know in the moment that you'll do what you need to do to save yourself from injury. "I haven't… I haven't done stuff in a long time, I can't just rush into things." 
The gun makes a quiet clicking sound as he points it with more fervour. "Like I believe that. You're probably fucking Hotchner on the side." 
There, that jealousy. He's been watching you, he knows where you live, what you want, and he's still convinced that you're fucking Hotch. It's not logical.
You cling to the threads, trying to pull apart his composure. You'd assumed him an anger-excitation rapist, unafraid to hurt you as he already has, but now you're thinking something else. 
"You think I'm sleeping with my boss? Why?" 
"Besides your constant need to be touching him? It's disgusting, you throw yourself at someone who doesn't want you. You're pathetic. I can make you better." 
You see movement in the corner of your vision. Dark hair, a stony expression. Hotch stands at the precipice of the kitchen in a bulletproof vest, a finger to his lips. Sh. 
Your relief knocks a breath out of you. The invader takes it for pain at being read. 
"Look," he says, softer. Not genuine softness, but practised. As soon as you give in, he'll drop it. You're both acting for one another, but only one of you is a profiler. "You'll forget all about Agent Hotchner once we're done. So just get up." 
You hold out your hand. His eyes light up with malice as he leans down to take it, his gun finally aimed away from your face. 
Hotch moves in. 
"Drop the weapon." 
Your attacker whirls. Hotch doesn't hesitate. Front sight, controlled trigger press, follow through. A bang like a clap of thunder fills the room. 
You flinch down into yourself. Everything goes a little white for a while, people running into the room, a gun skittling across your kitchen tile. Your ears ring from the bang of two bullets and you're sure you've been hit, you're hurting so much, but hands squeeze under your arms to tell you otherwise. 
"You're okay," Hotch says, knee against your thigh, face ducked down to meet your eyes. "Hey, can you hear me?" 
You shake your head. You can hear him, but you're far from okay. Hotch bites commands over his shoulder, holding your waist in his hands like he's worried you'll slip out of them. Tight. Too tight. You suck in as big a breath as you can manage and choke on it, coughing, the wild sting of your wounds a ringer. 
"You did so well," he says as he catalogues your injuries, his frown deepening. He tilts your head up to the light. 
"I knew you were on your way," you deflect.
"You were talking him down." 
"No, I was surrendering." 
"You didn't give in until you saw me. You weren't surrendering." 
"But I would have," you whisper, closing your eyes.
"Doing what you need to to survive isn't easy. But you do it." 
You hang your head. 
— 
Hotch winces at the sound of your skin being sewn closed. Morgan sits beside you in the back of the ambulance holding your hand, your fingers twitching between his with every tug. They dosed you and applied a general anaesthesia, but the pain is pervasive. His eyes keep moving back to your hand in Morgan's. He isn't jealous —he's annoyed with himself. Hotch should be the one holding your hand.
He should've hugged you. The absence of it feels awkward between you, though he's positive that that's the last thing you're thinking of right now.
"Will you have to set her nose?" Morgan asks. 
The paramedic shakes his head. "Not broken. Just very badly bruised. Even the bone." 
"That doesn't need a cast?" 
Hotch should hold your hand, should hug you, should be organising the scene. Should, should, should. The only thing he's managed to do since he incapacitated your stranger is watch you for signs of life. 
You're despondent. In shock, no doubt. You let your friends pass you from place to place with little more than pained sighs for input.
JJ does an excellent job of surveying the goings on, while Rossi and Reid take care of some of the bigger questions: who is this guy, what did he want, and how did it come to happen? 
What did he want? Hotch can guess. Rage collects like the heart of a furnace, a molten cup of steel in his throat as what he heard you say plays over and over in his head. 
You'll be gentle? 
No. You think he'd be gentle? Agent Hotchner?
He'll never forget the way you sounded asking that question. Terrified, begging for a scrap of mercy. 
Emily approaches from behind. "We have a name." Hotch tips his head to show he's listening. "Paulo Danvers. He was part of a crew that installed her security parameters a few months ago. He was vetted. This shouldn't have happened." 
"No, it shouldn't have." Hotch lowers his tone, "She said she wasn't sure she set the lock." 
"It wouldn't have mattered. He disengaged it from the outside." Emily takes a few steps closer to the ambulance. "Hey. Morgan taking care of you?" 
"Don't I always?" Morgan asks, clapping your arm gently. 
You don't answer. 
"What, you're not talking to me?" Emily asks. She's not mad, the opposite. Concern lines her eyes, thin brows pinching together at the starts, though she does her best to smile through it. 
"I don't feel well," you say quietly. 
"Yeah? You're not squeamish, are you?" 
"Don't think so." 
"It's shock," says the paramedic. 
"What's your pain like?" Hotch asks. He's the only person you'll give a straight answer to. "Bad?" 
"Yeah." Your hand is lax in Morgan's. 
"I can give you slow release tramadol to last the night or codeine pretty much immediately. It's up to you. And I'm really not comfortable with releasing you without next of kin. Do you have family in the area?" 
You shake your head. "It's just Hotch. Agent Hotchner," you correct yourself, nodding at him.
"You're her partner?" the paramedic asks. He can sense the disapproval. 
"Her boss." 
"Not her partner?" 
"He's my closest friend," you say. 
He's never heard you say that before, but it's true. 
"I wish you were my boss," the paramedic jokes, turning back to her supplies as she peels off her gloves. "Maybe I'd get better sick pay." 
You're given slow release tramadol and officially pronounced to be on the mend. If he didn't have an FBI badge, you'd be spending the night on a ward. He'd prefer if you did, but you clearly don't want to be somewhere alone right now, and he just wants to give you what you want after having your choices held over your head.  
He's not offended when Emily asks if you'd prefer to stay with her. It's harrowing what might have happened to you had you not heard the initial break in, and the perpetrator would've been a man like Hotch. Tall, white, dark-haired. He wouldn't blame you for needing space from him to feel safe tonight, but he's relieved when you turn her down. 
"You don't have to act like something happened to me," you say.
Hotch clicks down the locks of his car and turns on the overhead light. You squirm in the passenger seat, looking wrecked. Your chin is split, your nose a dark purple mess cut by white splint. You have a cut on your cheek and another just above your eye. 
"You don't think something happened?" he asks, hands on his legs. He can tell you wish he would start the car and take you home without pressing. 
"No, I know, I look awful, but he didn't do anything to me." Why is it so hard to say what it could have been? "You don't have to act like I'm gonna wig if you touch me." 
"You won't mind if I hug you?" he asks. 
"No. No, I want you to." 
It's thankfully a short gap to cover as Hotch leans over the console. He's careful of your face and still you mumble a tired, "Ouch," in his ear.
He rubs your back, slow and soft. "You okay?" he asks. 
You don't answer for a while. It doesn't matter, Hotch'll sit here in his parked car for hours if you want him to, hands on your hunched back. Your face hides away. He can feel and hear your distress building, and he wants you to cry if you need to, but it'll hurt.
"Sh," he hushes you gently, "it's okay." 
"I'm fine." You sound welled up. 
"Someone broke into your home and held you at gunpoint. You don't have to be fine." 
"Yeah, I do. It's my job." 
"No, that's not your job," he says, closing his eyes. "This has nothing to do with your job. This is about something bad happening to you. Don't put walls up now. It won't work, it never does." 
He tries to back away in case you're overwhelmed.
"Wait," you say, your panic like a cough. 
"I'm not going anywhere," he says. 
You sniffle, nodding into his chest. Hotch has comforted a hundred victims of violent assault. He's held the faces of women he didn't know hoping to give them something solid to lean on. But it's different with you, because you and Hotch aren't simply friends. There's a deeper vein of affection, and tonight's event is a jagged slash against it, bringing every unbidden feeling he has for you to the surface. He can't get how scared you sounded out of his head. He knows that feeling is still there. 
"How did you get here so fast?" you asked. 
"I took the side road. And went unavoidably fast." 
You make a small, small sound. He's known you for long enough to understand what it demarcates, unsurprised when the trembling of your shoulders turns to pained shaking. Hotch holds you delicately. He's done so much in his life, made a thousand and one mistakes, used a heavy hand when he could've been sweeter. He's determined to get this part right. 
"I'm with you now," he says. "I'm sorry I couldn't–" This is harder than he imagined. He presses on. "Couldn't protect you from the start." 
"You know why I called you?" you ask, your tone similarly soft. 
Hotch doesn't bother answering. The answer is unsaid, loudly heard. 
"I knew you'd come," you finish.
He puts a hand on your neck to encourage you into place, kissing the side of your head. Hotch will always come when you call. 
That night, you ask to sleep in his room. I'll sleep on the floor, just don't want to be alone. You're in ragtag clothes he'd scraped together for you, and after helping you wash the blood from your hair and face, you're even more impossible to say no to than usual, looking small in a way you haven't before. Hotch sets you up in bed next to him and wonders if he'll ever sleep next to someone he hasn't let down. 
You put that notion straight in your sleep. Hotch lays awake sick with the idea that he's failed you, and you, frowning, snoring, covered in cuts, curl into his side. You cling to his arm so hard he's certain you're awake at first, a bouquet of bruises painted across your cheek. 
Hotch pulls the blanket up over your shoulder, planting a chaste kiss to your forehead. 
He whispers your name, not sure what he'd say if you answered. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed♡ I haven't written long form (ish) for Hotch in a while so I'm nervous but I hope it's good!! let me know also if you'd like a second part cos usually I don't feel like there's much left to tell but for this one the could actually confess :o
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𝕭𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖔𝖓
note: this is the part 2 for this, but you can read it individually too:) I know they can’t reproduce in hell, so let’s pretend that they can! And thank you so much for all the support, really means a lot to me!🤍
Pairing: Alastor x fem!doe Reader
summary: Alastor, nor Y/N can’t resist against their instincts anymore
warning: SMUT (minors dni), heavy breeding kink, impregnation kink (i’m not sure if this is the right term, but you know what I mean:)) biting, knotting, primal stuff in general, dirty talk, like a lot of dirty talk, ooc Alastor, (forgive me if I forgot anything pls)
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Y/N got back in her room as soon as she could. This was her first heat, who knew they were this tiring? Especially given to the fact that she did absolutely nothing. Her daily mating season routine consisted of: sleeping, eating and masturbating. Therefore, she didn’t know the power a male deer could have over her, especially a male overlord demon deer. She wasn’t this down bad for him until he gave her a command, that made something click within her. Her hands were shaking and her mind was chanting.
Bigger nest, bigger nest, fawn, fawn, fawn, Alastor.
Her mind kept on repeating these words while she clawed her dresser open to take every soft thing out, to make her nest bigger.
When she finally made it twice as big, she curled up in there and tried to wait patiently for Alastor, although her body craved him more instead of the sweets. She felt the shiver crawl up and down her back, the hot feeling in her lower tummy made itself known harder than before.
Fuck it. She couldn’t wait. She needed release now.
She rolled on her back and spread her legs, her fingers were under her dress not even a second later. She was unbelievably wet, the crotch of her underwear was soaked, her body was ready to be mated, to be bred. She huffed in disappointment, her fingers weren’t enough, she needed more. So her firmest pillow was snatched and she began grinding down on it, yeah, this was way better. She couldn’t help it, she kept on imagining that it wasn’t a pillow that she was riding on, but Alastor.
She suddenly got a whiff of his musky scent and her hips dug themselves deeper into the pillow. Seconds later, she heard the locks clicking and the door opening…
Alastor could smell her arousal the second he stepped back in the hotel. A sweet scent coming from her room, she was more aroused than ever. While he was out of town, he caught a few scents of does in heat, but they couldn’t even come close to Y/N. He felt lucky that he was alone in the parlor, he could have felt ashamed, it was obvious that everyone left so the two deers could do their thing. But, shame was the last thing in his mind. All of his senses were occupied with Y/N. He felt the fabric of his pants becoming tighter, his breathing becoming heavier. He needed her. Now.
As he was on his way to her room, he was in and out of his demon form, desperate to feel the worked-up doe. Her scent was more intense, it fogged up his mind, making all of his thoughts circle around her. His knuckle ghosted over her door, but in that moment, knocking seemed useless and stupid. One of his shadows creeped under her door to open up the locks, when the door creaked open, he stepped in.
She was halfway on her stomach, one of her thighs was lifted and across the pillow, her needy pussy making a mess on the side of the pillow. There it was, the door opening. She blinked twice and Alastor was looking at her from the door. He still looked put-together, but his hair showed that he was running his fingers through it a lot.
Her big doe eyes were nearly in tears at the sight of him, she was relieved. She sat up on her knees, her dress was disheveled and her hair was messy.
“Alastor…?” She whispered, her eyes were hypnotized by him. His musky scent mingled with her sweet one, creating a new one that was them.
The desperation evident in her tone. Alastor got him coat off and went down on one knee before her. His clawed fingers reaching out to caress her blushing cheeks, she of course, nuzzled her face into his gentle touch. “Oh, you poor thing. Suffering all by yourself, hm?” He felt proper sympathy for the doe before him.
“Please, help me.” She purred into his hand, then she straightened her back out to rub her cheek against his. “I need you, Alastor, only you.” He almost didn’t notice how she managed to sneak his kneeling leg between hers and began grinding down on it. But he did know that he was about to lose his goddamn mind. This is music to a bucks ears, a pretty little doe begging for him and telling him that he was the one she needed, it is an honor really.
He put both of his hands on her face to make sure she looked into his eyes. “There, there. Don’t you worry, I’ll help you.” She squeaked in joy, she was about to crawl on him, when he stopped her. He got her into his lap and stepped inside her nest, sitting down with both her legs around his waist. “But… If you and I do this, there is no going back. This won’t be a one time thing, where we fuck just to get through our heat. No. You and I will be mates.” His demon form started to show slowly, his antlers growing, his smile getting bigger and his form getting taller. “No other bucks. You will bear me fawns, and I keep you safe and loved. Understood?”
There was a few second silence before she smiled and reached out to gently pet his ears and antlers, which went right back to it’s normal size. She was petting him in his sensitive spots, only a bucks mate was allowed to do that. He got his answer, but she spoke.
“I want that. I want you, Alastor, I really do. But… Are you sure? If you are to become my mate, I want you to know that I’ll need you around, all the ti—-“
Alastor chuckled and pulled her into a deep kiss, her tense body instantly relaxed. Their lips were dancing together, with every second they somehow mushed their bodies closer together. “I promise to give you everything you could ever need, want and more, my mate.”
They both gave themselves to the primal desire. They undressed each other in a hurry, or more like, Alastor sloppily removed his clothes, and tore Y/N dress in half. “Hey!” She shrieked, with a giggle.
He shushed her with another heated kiss. “I’ll buy you a thousand more, but not too soon, you won’t need clothes for a while.” His static voice slipped into an even more dominant one, a command.
He gladly acknowledged that she wasn’t wearing anything under her dress. She looked perfect. Her usually slender frame had some extra pounds, in all the right places. He flipped them around, so his mate was right under him, on perfect display for him. His lips wandered from hers and down to her neck, his tongue marked the spot where he would leave his bite on her, before continuing his journey lower.
He stopped at her chest, his fingers pushed one of her breasts to the side, so he could lightly bite into the flesh. Her nipple poked out from between his fingers, they were firm and begging to be sucked on. “What gorgeous breasts, my doe. My babies will have the finest to feed from.” He started sucking on her nipple, while pinching and kneading the other. He switched to the other one, and suckled. He did that until both her tits were covered in bite marks, her nipples were hard as rocks and the skin around nearly crimson. “I can’t wait to see them full of milk, I’ll have my lips around these beauties all day, before our little fawn arrives. Can’t have you feeling uncomfortable from all the milk your body is preparing, now can we? Daddy is going to help mommy out.” His dirty talking got her even more worked up, every single nerve in her body was aching for him, and for the baby that he’ll give her soon enough. He went lower, stopping at her lower belly and hips. “Would you look at that!” Both his hands smoothed themselves from her waist to her hips, gripping the fat on her hips. She didn’t even have time to fall into insecurity because of her slight weight gain, before he spoke. “You really are perfect. You were made for me. Made to bear my offspring, my gorgeous darling.”
He couldn’t help himself, he had to leave a few bite marks there too, then he completely got on his knees before her spread legs. He buried his face between her thighs, the source of her heavenly scent. His nose accidentally poked her already puffy clit and her whole body jolted. He decided to just bury his face into her, his tongue and lips were working in unison. Her moans made him go harder and faster, just like her delicate fingers that were gripping into his antlers.
One of his hands sneaked up her thigh, only to slip into her wet entrance. “Oh~ Alastor!” Her back arched.
Alastor looked up at her, half his face was covered in her arousal, a string of slick still connected his lips to her pussy. “I know, I know. Give me a second.” He made his shadow throw both her legs over his shoulder and arch her hips upwards, which made her a bit confused. “What are y—OH FUCK!” She felt his finger press into a spot deep inside her, her g-spot.
“Found it.” He chuckled smugly, bastard.
He went on like that for a while, bringing her to an orgasm over and over again, until she was begging.
“Alastor! Please, fuck me. PLEASE!”
He crawled up her body, now being face to face with her. His lips were swollen from literally making out with her pussy. “What was that, my dear?” He straightened up so he could begin unbuttoning his shirt, which he usually wouldn’t do, but he knew that his mate would need skin to skin contact, it helps them bond more.
“Fuck me. I am begging!” Her fingers reached up to help him with the buttons, small gestures, but oh so lovely!
“Excuse me, I can’t seem to he—“ he took himself out of his pants, before she grabbed onto his antlers and pulled his face beside hers, so she could whisper into his ear.
“Fuck me, breed me, knot me! I-I need you to finish inside, I’m more fertile than ever. Let me give you everything!” She started grinding against his hard and heavy cock, which stood proudly between them, impossibly hard for her and her warm cunt.
Alastor turned his head to seal their lips together, while he guided his cock inside of her.
They both sighed in relief, it felt so damn right for them to be connected like this. No wonder they were getting dizzy from each other’s scent, they were meant to be. She felt him nudge at her cervix, and curving right into her special spot.
He wrapped his strong arms around her, completely enveloping her, while pounding into her with no mercy.
“See what you do to me? The second I stepped into the hotel, I felt you. I have felt you for days. I have felt you every single time your curious little fingers sneaked under your dress, every fucking time.” His head was right next to hers, nuzzling his skin into her soft hair, finding comfort in it.
“I-I always had to do something down there wherever I felt your scent, I couldn’t do it if you weren’t around.” Her hands petted his ears, she was still gentle with him when his hips snapped into hers constantly. “I had you on my mind, when I was nesting. I wanted to show you, so you could be proud of me. I made it for you. Soft and warm… for you.” What a lovely creature she was, so kind hearted.
“Oh, my darling doe. You will make the greatest mother to our fawns. You will take care of them as much as you’re taking care of me… My sweet love, the sweetest mother to my children. I will be there for you, always. How could I ever let you go after this? My mate, I would hate to cause you the slightest pain, but I have to bite you… To bond us together.” He buried his face into her neck, licking at the spot he was eyeing earlier.
“I know. Do it. Bite me, and give me what we need. Give me our little fawns.”
He positioned her into a mating press, both of them moaned at this new position. His cock was nearly up in her womb. He reached down to stimulate her clit, he needed her to come, so he could fertilize her egg better.
“I will make your belly swollen, every part of your body will be swelling with my child.” His primal instincts were consuming him. “You will have a piece of me inside you. All. The. Fucking. Time. And everyone will see. Everyone will see how good my mate is treated, how good I fuck her. Everyone will know that I impregnated her. I will fucking breed you!” He felt his balls tighten and the base of his cock swelling, he was about to cum. Luckily she…
“ALASTOR! I’M ABOUT TO—-OH~”
He felt her clench around him, milking him for all his worth. He bit down hardly on her neck, leaving his bite mark that would always grace her skin, making her his forever. It was like marriage, but with deers.
She moaned loudly when she felt him fill her up, and it just kept on coming. He really set his mind into knocking her up.
Even when he stopped pumping his sperm into her, they were still stuck together. They kept each other warm in their embrace.
Alastor suddenly felt her shiver, so he flipped them to the side, so he could completely shield her from everything in his arms. He reached for a blanket and tucked her and himself in. Even after his swelling went back to normal, they still held each other tightly.
He kept looking down at her, admiring her, and gently caressing her skin.
“My beautiful doe, my gorgeous mate… You did so well. You’re my good girl.” He whispered to her, but her energy was down low. Her body was tired, and her mind was fogged. He reached over to grab the sweets that got them in this position in the first place. He started feeding her, before rocking her side to side to calm down her wildly beating heart.
“Thank you, Alastor… For everything, and more.” He could see the admiration in her eyes when she looked up at him with a smile. “I am proud to be your mate.” She looked down and palmed her tummy, caressing it with love. “I really hope we did it. I cannot wait for us to have our own little baby.”
“Me neither, my doe, me neither. But… If you didn’t get pregnant now, I’ll make sure that you get pregnant in the next few days.” He kissed her all around her face, making her giggle. “Now, sleep. I can’t have you tired tomorrow, we’ll have a lot of mating duties together.”
She grinned up at him. “Do we now?”
“Oh, yeah. We have to make sure that your womb will bring us a fawn soon. We have a lot of breeding and fucking to do.” He chuckled with her. She then snuggled into him, falling asleep, in the radio demon’s protective embrace.
Her mate’s embrace.
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Taglist: @jyoongim @lovingyeet @adamwarlockislife-blog @that-dumb-bitch @midorichoco @alastorswifeee
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anantaru · 12 days
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synopsis. you got alhaitham to tutor you, although he uses a method you weren't quite expecting, ⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ cw, fingering, soft dom alhaitham, petnames used: good girl, fem! reader ᰔ
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"repeat that paragraph, that one, read it to me," shuddered and twisted, you weakly nod back at alhaitham's words, the veil of lust drawing across his face.
you admire his honed jaw and poised tone, the perfect shade of red on his cheeks, no trace of imperfections except a lustre ignite of fire shaped inside the yearning in his eyes.
for now, you were only capable to re-read half of the paragraph as he digs the finger deeper inside before curling it, curling it hard, nudging your puffy cunt as you close your eyes at the impact, alternating between squeezing his hand with your thighs and parting your legs in obvious invitation.
alhaitham continues to lightly stroke over your searing walls, tracing his way further until you squirm at the mind-altering press on your cunt, your hole clenching around the digit, holding the finger in for him to never leave you, "yeah, good girl— ugh, but what else? that's not all," he grins as you sneakily ride his hand, his cock hardening inside his pants.
you rest your head on his shoulder, your focus forced on holding onto the book as good as you could.
you attempt to continue, founding it to be futile when he fucks you with a precision that quickened your blood.
"what else do you got for me?" he repeats.
"c-can we just forget about studying already?" you attempt to reason, stuttering over your words, "you know i can't— i want more," as you cough out and squirm, your hips shifting forward so your clit could grind against the heel of his hand ever so often, "i can't focus like this,"
you were correct, in fact, you were certain no one in all of sumeru could ever focus on a single task when a man such as alhaitham himself, no matter how aggravating at times, would look at someone with such hunger in his eyes, a gaze filled to perpetual sharpness.
you do not want him to stop, you want him to do more.
"you seem to enjoy it," the confidence in his tone could not be any clearer, "very much."
he tilts his head to look at you, the brush of his lips against your cheek making you whimper, the following scrape of his teeth hovering against your jawline tempting out a shiver after such tenderness.
a sensual thrust of his hand repeatedly curls and digs into you, knocking the air from your lungs as you clench as strongly as you could around a single digit, his finger rubbing just so against the furthest, most delicious spots of your walls that it increased the force and pressure on your tight belly from the inside.
how long until you break?
his finger wiggles inside, the touch exquisitely precise, awfully confident, and you found yourself in an inescapable position, impossible to hold yourself back from sinking into the sensation of feeling him. just having him touch you.
"you want me to put another finger?" he kisses your cheek tenderly.
your skin holds against sweat and desperation, tickling the hairs on your skin as a satisfactory pleasure could be felt ebbing and flowing through the entirety of your body.
"yes, please another," you breathe, greeting the scribe with a little more than soft excitement in your voice— but you sounded so angelic to him, your voice silk alike, drowning in a river of solace.
shameless in his doings, alhaitham smirks against you, his lips a hairbreadth away from your ear, "really? you think you got that?"
you nod in certain ecstasy, keeping one hand wrapped around his wrist as he pleasures you, stretching and burning into your hole.
the scribe remains confident in wanting to embed his touch, all of it, on you— not only that but his scent too, he needs your body to pick it up until his aura webs all over your most delicate spots naturally, nothing comparing to the feeling of fullness he gives you.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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ln444 · 7 months
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keeping you warm, angel
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cw: MNDI+18, smut, language, fingering, cockwarming, cum eating(f), fluff (i'm obsessed w whipped lando).
now playing: christmas blues by sabrina claudio ft. the weeknd
requested by anon
_________________________________________________
lando finally stirred from his slumber, roused by your soft groans and the repeated tugging at the blanket. his arm, which had been placed on your hips, under your— his shirt, instinctively pulls you closer. "what's wrong, baby?" he mumbled, the warm of his breath making you shiver.
you sigh softly, your fingers gently playing with his curls and you plant a soft kiss on the top of his head. "it's so cold" you murmured, "sorry for waking you up, babe". but your apology hung in the air, unanswered.
just as you start to think he had got back to sleep, he surprises you by planting gentle kisses along your skin. at first, it was innocent, soft pecks but soon his lips turned more insistent, and he started leaving marks on your neck. you can't help but close your eyes and sigh, getting overwhelmed by the sensations. the effect that lando has on you always surprises you.
"lan... what are you doing?" you whimper, your voice laced with a mix of curiosity and desire. the hold on your hips is getting more firm, making you crave for more.
he responds, his voice husky with need, "keeping you warm, angel".
you definitely felt warmer, and even more when his hands start travelling your body, caressing every inch of your bare chest.
and just like that, you found yourself with an open shirt, lando's hands all over you and sharing a messy kiss with him, the room filled with your sweet whimpers and kissing sounds.
between sweet whispers and looks, lando's hand found a way to your core, sliding a finger in you without any warning. he can't help but watch every single of your reactions, from you throwing your head back to the way you look at him straight in the eyes, your mouth slightly open as silent moans leaves your mouth.
a second finger join the first one and his movements in you start getting messier, faster and he can feel the sensations between his legs getting more and more overwhelming.
"my sweet, sweet girl.", his lips found your neck again, kissing your marked skin. his fingers are stretching you, making you see stars.
"lan... please, more", you whimper between two moans and lando start planting kisses along your jawline, "hum? what do you want, sweetheart?"
it takes you a moment to answer, getting lost in the pleasure and his words makes it even more complicated. "want your cock... please" you sound breathless. just those words sends a jolt straight to lando's crotch.
his fingers slips out of you, leaving you empty and whining. lando's takes his sweet time, locking his eyes with yours while sucking on his wet fingers and, instinctively, your thighs closes. he definitely knows the effect that he has on you and he loves it, because a grin appears on his lips.
"open your legs for me, baby", his deep and commanding voice sends shivers down your spine and you immediately obey, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "good girl", he plants a soft kiss on your lips, "gonna make you feel good".
his hand slides in his own pants, not taking time to take them off and after stroking a few times his already hard cock, he guide it to your pussy, not wasting any time to penetrate you.
your moans fills the room, your eyes not leaving each other for any second and lando can't help but pull you for another kiss, softer this time.
your legs parts, your hands in his hair, pulling it unconsciously. "lan... faster!", you break the kiss to let your moans escape and he immediately follows your order, his moves getting more and more intense and messy.
"fuck baby, you're feeling so good. so fucking good." he groans against your lips, his hands grabbing firmly your hips. his moves are so gentle yet so rough.
it's like lando knows exactly what you need, when you need it, whitout even telling him. and now, he's making love to you, just the way you love it. it's like he knows every part of you, your body, your mind.
"gonna cum, lan!", your mouth is widely opened, letting a moan escape with each thrust. he leaves sweet pecks all over your face, his eyes finally meeting yours.
"let's cum together, baby, look at me." and that's what you did, you looked at him, and that's exactly what you needed to reach your climax, meeting his sweet eyes.
you fall into abyss together, exchanging a look full of adoration for each other and moaning in unison. he can feel you clench around him as he fills you with his cum and he could swear that it's the best sensation he ever felt.
lando falls back onto the mattress, his dick still deep in you, breathless and completely overwhelmed. he pulls you closer, looking at you and his fingers meets the skin of your cheek, caressing it softly. "i love you", he leaves a soft peck on your lips, "so much", a smile forms on both of your lips.
"i love you more." you whisper against his lips, putting yours on it to share a sweet kiss.
"feeling warmer?", he chuckles between the gentle kisses and you smile at him, softly stroking his hair, "definitely".
you share a warm embrace, watching the snow fall between the curtains, exchanging a few sweet words before falling back to sleep, lando's cock deep in you, feeling more attached — and warm— than ever.
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marimisses · 4 days
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names they call you in bed
˖ ࣪ ִֶָ nanami - toji - sukuna - choso - gojo - shoko (separate)
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contents Ⳋ multi x f!reader, smut, petnames, spanking (toji), spitting (sukuna), praise (nanami, shoko, choso), degradation (sukuna), daddy kink (toji), size kink (nanami), oral (gojo, shoko), just straight nasttyyy
a/n :: this one’s been sitting in the drafts lol, i felt things writing this
<16 and ageless blogs dni
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N. KENTO — SWEETHEART
nanami is always so sweet with you. when he comes home from work, all he wants is to lay down with you, relax, and bury his fat cock into you.
“ken—“ you cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as he kisses all over your face as he sinks his dick inch-by-inch into your sopping pussy.
“i knoww, sweetheart, i got you,” he cooes, his large palm caressing your cheek as he thumbs away the tears. “‘s too big, it won’t fit—!” you gasp, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “mm, it’ll fit, honey. it always does, hm? you always take me so well..” he whispers, his hot breath against the shell of your ear sending a shiver down your spine.
he leans up and looks down at where you two were almost fully connected, and he brings his thumb to your swollen pearl, rubbing circles on it to ease you. “there you go, sweetheart. you got it, hm? let me take care of you now.”
once he fully bottoms out, he gives you time to adjust before bucking into you at a slow pace, your gummy walls clamping down around his girth. nanami is such a gentle man when it comes to you.
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Z. TOJI — MAMA
toji always fucks you like it’s the last time he ever will. he has your face buried into the pillows while his hips piston into you, pathetic mewls leaving your lips.
he stills, watching you fuck yourself on his cock as he lets out a guttural groan. “yeaah, back that ass up n’me mama, shiiit,”
he stares at the fat of your ass ripple with each bounce with half-lidded eyes, his jaw slack. “you like fuckin’ yerself on daddy’s cock, hm? pussy’s s’greedy,”
“daddy—“ you babble, your head craning to the best of its ability to look back at him, your nails digging into the soft sheets below you.
“hm? what’s it, mama?” he tilts his head cockily, his hands reaching down to grab your hips and continues to thrust into you. “ah— ‘m gonna cum, toj, please—“
he smiles down at you and nods. “yeah? gonna make a mess on this dick? cmon, do it,” he slaps your ass encouragingly, watching the red handprint form.
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R. SUKUNA — SLUT
“you’re lucky i didn’t ravish you in front of all those fuckin’ servants,” he seethed, having you in a mating press as he slams his pelvis to yours in an incredible pace.
“ah! ah! kuna, ‘m sorry, please slow down—!” you cry, but to no avail. he grabs your face to look at his as he speaks. “no. you wanted to act like a slut? now you’re gonna be treated as a slut, so take this dick.”
you moan out, your legs propped up over his shoulders as he fisted the sheets below you. his lips were slightly parted as he watched your tears flow down your cheeks, a sadistic smile lacing his face.
“open your mouth,” he commands, and you dumbly nod, parting your lips. in a quick motion, he spits down on your tongue, and you blink quickly in response. “swallow it.”
you obey, swallowing it and then opening your mouth to show him. he pats your cheek condescendingly. “now you wanna listen? damn, you really are a slut.”
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K. CHOSO — BABY
“f-fuck— baby, y’gotta loosen up, okay?” he hisses, his cock buried deep in your cunt as you pant. “promise ‘ll make you feel so good, but you gotta relax, can’t move,”
he knows your overwhelmed, he is too — but the way your clamping down on him makes him feel like he could cum on the spot.
he reassures you, his face next to yours as he sweet talks into your ear, and your tense muscles begin to relax a bit. “there you go, good girl,” he shushes.
“cho, please, need you to move,” you whimper, and he nods. “okay, baby, i hear you. gonna take care of you, okay?” he says, earning a quick nod from you in response that makes a soft smile curl up on his lips.
he begins to thrust into you, a moan leaving his lips. “fuck, you feel so good, you’re so good—“ his hands grip your hips, hard enough to leave marks. he can’t help but become pussy drunk, he’s addicted to you.
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G. SATORU — PRINCESS
he’s manspread on the couch whilst your on your knees, his head thrown back as your lips wrap and suck on his cock.
you let out whimpers each time his tip prods at the back of your throat, tears welling up in your eyes as you try your best to take him as far as you can. he looks down at you, his eyes lidded as your struggle only turns him on even more.
“you’re fuckin’ dirty,” he lazily smiles, “you like this, huh? you like having your face stuffed with cock, princess?” he cooed, brushing the strands of hair that stuck to your sweaty skin out of your face. you hum in agreement, the vibration shooting up his spine with a groan.
“go on, then. make me cum with that pretty mouth of yours and i’ll reward you.”
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I. SHOKO — PRETTY
she hums against your folds, your hand tangled in her brown strands as she presses a kiss to your pearl. “you taste so sweet,” she says half to herself, looking up at you. “you feelin’ good, pretty?” she cocks her head as she makes up for the momentary loss of her tongue with her fingers.
you nod quickly, too stimulated to form any coherent words. she chuckles, enamored with how adorable you were being. “i know you are, pretty girl, pussy’s so wet,”
you go to say something but she shushes you. “shhh, she’s talkin’ to me, pretty, listen to how fuckin’ loud she is,” she scissors her fingers in your cunt, earning a loud squelch. you flush, hiding your face.
“awh, don’t hide from me, pretty. gonna eat this cunt and i wanna see every reaction, okay?”
© marimisses on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.
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bunnybunbun0 · 2 months
Text
renaissance
summary: because Paul Atreides was a piece of art in bed.
pairing: Paul Atreides X fem!reader
warnings: smut,porn without plot,
A/N: with the hype of dune part two being released i finally got my shit together and watvhed part one years later and oh.my.god. Seeing timmy play a serious important yet loving duke just rocked me a bit. i hope you guys like this!
sorry its short i wasnt planning on writing it,it just came t mind.not proofread,we die like real man. english is not my first language so be kind!
you are responsible for your own media comsumption! :)
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credits to gif owner!
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Paul Atreides was undoubtly the prettiest man you have ever seen.
And after stumbling upon a book on what ancient civilizations considered art,you were even more convinced he was god´s most wonderful creation.
When he pants on top of you while fiercifully thrusting into your soaked slit,his black curls clinging to his pale skin with a sheer of sweat;a beautiful contrast with his dark hair and white skin.
The sounds leaving the back of his throat are a sweet melody to your ears; the gutural grunts,the ocasional moan,the pants of your name,the filthy things he whispers in your ears.
You were fully convinced paul was the most beautiful work of art youve ever seen,he was ethereal,every trace of his was brushstroke,you lost yourself staring into the honey galaxies of his eyes.
"What are you thinking about that is more important than my cock inside you right now?"
His dirty question gets you out of your head;a long whimper scaped you at how dirty his words were,you tried your best to focus on answering his question,but between his cocktip brushing your sweet spot so deliciously,the force of his hips meeting yours,and the sinful noises that filled the room,all you could do in response was moan and whine.
He lowers his head to your neck,sucking and biting the sensitive pristine skin;you shiver at the thought of being marked by his beautiful lips,having him set a clam on you.
"Answer me" he asks in a grave tone,a shiver rippling through you bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
"You´re beautiful!" you blabber out in a high pitched moan,not even realizing how desperate you sound or how you´re not making any sense to him right now "you´re beautiful! fuck paul,you´re so beautiful"
To say that was not what Pauls was expecting to hear was an understatement,he knew you appreciated his looks;it was clear with your lingering touches on him or how youd be amazedly watching him while he did the most mundane of tasks,but not that you liked it enough to declare it so devotedely while he was deep inside you.
He knew your body better than anyone else,and he could sense you were on the brink of an orgasm,his hand reached down rubbing sensual circles around your clit,not once slowing down his thrusts.
You unravel around him yelping and crying out as your release washed over you,your eyes shut feeling the moment where you and him become one.
A few more faltered thrusts into your now even tighter pussy,and paul was cumming inside you with a string of profanities leaving his mouth accompanied with your name.
You both stare at each for what feels like forever,breathing deeply while coming down from your highs.
Paul was a completely different person once the sexual aact was over,the kiss he pressed on your lips right now was not desperate and hurried,it was calm,soft,he treated you like the wind blow you away into a pile of sand.
He slips out of you carefully,making sure youre okay,carefully enveloping you in his arms and throwing a blanket around both their naked bodies;a confortable silence falls into the room as thetwo of you cuddle,paul lovingly stroking your arms,ocasionally kissing whatever naked skin he could get his lips on.
"You really think i´m that good looking?" he asks with the memory of you moaning out how beautiful he was mid sex stuck in his mind.
In your post orgasm clarity your mind goes back to the beautiful paintings you found on the ancient book,the delicacy of the lines,the softness of the colors and beautiful tragedies behind every piece. The sudden desire to once again tell paul how beautiful he is and make sure to know your ancient knowledge with him are overwhelming.
You sit up in the bed looking up at his face,a smile immediately meeting your lips as you look at him and decide to ask:
"Have you ever heard of Michelangelo?"
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