Forbidden sex with Naruto men. Different relationships with each character. Some are possessive, cruel, or indulgent depending on who they are. Featuring Naruto, Sasuke, Itachi, Omoi, Asuma, Kakashi, Yamato, and Madara.
❤︎18+ 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓓𝓸 𝓝𝓸𝓽 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽 ❤︎
Naruto Uzumaki → Best Friend (Too Familiar, Too Late)
The sheets are messy, tangled around your legs as Naruto fucks you from behind, sweaty blonde hair sticking to his forehead. His hands grip your waist hard, cock pistoning in with frantic, sloppy rhythm.
“You—you really shouldn’t be—” you gasp, face pressed into the pillow, voice breaking.
“Shouldn’t be what?” Naruto groans, slapping your ass, watching it ripple. “Shouldn’t be fucking my best friend? Too late.” His dick shoves deep, hitting that spot that makes you wail. “You feel too damn good to stop now.”
You twist your head to look at him, eyes wet, lips trembling. “If anyone finds out—”
“They won’t,” he pants, fucking you harder, jaw clenched like it’s life or death. “And even if they do, I don’t care. Been wanting you since forever.” His voice cracks, needy, desperate. “So take it. Be good and let me keep you right here.”
You moan his name, clenching around him, and his head drops to your back, whispering against your skin: “Wrong or not, you love it. I know you do.”
Ꮚ
Sasuke Uchiha → Rivalry Turned Obsession
He’s got you pinned against the wall, hands gripping your wrists above your head, his dick driving into you with a roughness that makes your knees buckle. His eyes burn, wild with the edge of something too sharp.
“You hate me. Why are you doing this?” you gasp out, head tipping back as the wall scrapes your spine. “You shouldn’t—”
“Shut up,” Sasuke bites out, thrusting harder, like punishing you for speaking at all. “You think I care what I should or shouldn’t do? I want you.” His voice drops lower, meaner. “And I always take what I want.”
Your whimper breaks into a cry, and he hisses in your ear, “Say it again. Tell me I shouldn’t.”
You do, because you can’t help yourself, and he groans, slamming into you until the frame rattles. “Exactly. Wrong. Filthy. And you’re dripping for it.”
His teeth find your shoulder, his words hot against your skin. “I’ll fuck you until you forget about the rest, and the only thing left is me.”
Ꮚ
Itachi Uchiha → Brother’s Best Friend
Your thighs tremble where they’re spread across his lap, his dick buried deep inside you. Itachi’s face is unreadable, his hand tracing slow circles on your hip as if the intimacy isn’t soaked in sin.
Your brown skin glistens, tits bouncing with every thrust. “You shouldn’t be here,” you whisper, voice shaking. “Not with me.”
His breath brushes your ear, calm, cruel. “And yet you let me in. You opened your door. Your legs.” His hips shift, cock sliding deeper, dragging a broken cry from your throat. “Do you want me to stop?”
You shake your head, teary-eyed, clinging to his shoulders. “That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, pressing his mouth to your neck. His thrusts stay measured, unhurried, as if he has all the time in the world to undo you. “Your brother would hate me for this. But you—you’d hate me more if I pulled out now.”
Your words crack on a whimper. “It’s—wrong—”
“Everything I do is wrong,” he says softly, almost kind. His dick slams up harder, stealing the air from your lungs. “So be quiet, and take it. If you want forgiveness, pray after.”
Ꮚ
Omoi→ Ally (Professional, Supposed To Resist)
His hands tremble on your hips, cock sinking into you slow, careful. Omoi’s voice stutters in your ear, breathless. “Shit—I really shouldn’t—”
You smile through a whimper, nails dragging down his arms. “You shouldn’t be fucking me like this. Should be professional, right?” He groans, forehead pressed to yours. “Don’t… don’t say it like that. Makes me wanna—fuck—makes me wanna go harder.”
And he does. His thrusts turn frantic, desperate, his hand clamping over your mouth to stifle the moans spilling out.
You pry it away, whispering, “Too late. You’re already inside. Might as well.”
Omoi’s eyes flutter, lips parting like he’s sorry for everything, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t. He leans over you like a man tending to a precious, private flame. His dick hits deep and messy, his words a blur of apologies and filth: “So warm—so perfect. I’ll make it up to you later, just… let me stay inside a little longer.”
Ꮚ
Asuma Sarutobi → Family Friend
Your legs shake on his thighs, stretched wide around him. Asuma’s beard scratches your cheek when he leans in close, smoke still clinging to his breath. He should’ve walked away. Should’ve remembered the way your father would look at him across a shogi table, laughing.
But here you are, slick and whimpering, clinging to his shoulders.
“You really shouldn’t be doing this,” you whisper, voice breathless, broken with a moan.
His hand palms your ass, squeezes hard enough to bruise. “Then why’s this pussy holding me like it doesn’t wanna let go?” he rasps. He drags you down harder, bottoming out, making your eyes roll back.
You shake your head, thighs trembling, “He’d be so upset if he knew.”
Asuma chuckles low, dirty, nipping at your neck. “Mhm, but you're still taking it for me, honey.” His pace turns rougher, greedy. “You know how long I’ve wanted this? You think I care if he finds out?”
Your gasp turns into a whimper, and he grinds deeper, watching your face crumble. “Go on. Tell me to stop.”
But you don’t. You can’t.
Ꮚ
Kakashi Hatake -> Old Sensei
You’re on your knees on his couch, hips raised, head buried in the cushions. Kakashi’s heavy cock splits you open slow, every inch dragging. His hand rests easy on your back, voice deceptively calm.
“You used to train me,” you gasp out, eyes glassy with pleasure. “You really shouldn’t—”
He cuts you off with a sharp thrust that makes your breath hitch. “Shouldn’t what? Ruin you? Feel how wet you are? You’ve been waiting for this longer than I have.”
You turn your head, cheek pressed to fabric, whispering like it’s a secret, “You were my sensei.”
His laugh is low, cruel. “Was. And look at you now—arched up, begging for cock. Tell me to stop.”
But you push back instead, taking him deeper.
Kakashi groans, hand sliding into your coils, tugging your head back so he can see your face. “I’ll stop when you stop clenching around me.” His thrusts get sharper, harder, filling the room with the slap of skin. “Go on, sweet girl. Tell me how wrong it is while you drip all over me.”
Ꮚ
Yamato → Commanding Officer
His wood release binds your wrists above your head, body pinned against his chest. His dick stretches you full, grinding slow, deep. He observes everything: your flushed face, the glow of your skin, the way your rationale slips with your mind.
“This is—ahh—wrong,” you whisper, writhing helpless in his hold. “You really shouldn’t—”
Yamato’s voice is quiet but sharp in your ear. “You think I care about right or wrong when you look like this? When you squeeze me this tight?” His hand slides to your throat, tilts your head back. “Sweet little Chunin, acting like she doesn’t want it while dripping down my cock.”
You whimper, “You’re my superior—”
He chuckles dark, biting your shoulder. “Exactly. And I’m ordering you to take it.” His thrusts slam sharp and deliberate, making you cry out. “No running. No hiding. You’ll learn discipline between these sheets.”
Ꮚ
Madara Uchiha → Leader & Superior
He doesn’t fuck you like a man. He fucks you like a conqueror. Your back’s pressed to the table in his war room, scrolls scattering to the floor with each thrust.
“Why are you—You shouldn’t be—” your voice cracks on a moan, legs shaking in the air.
Madara cuts you off with a growl, hand locking on your throat. “I shouldn’t? I decide what I should and shouldn’t do.” His dick drives in, thick and brutal, forcing cries out of you. “Your body answers better than your tongue, girl. Gripping me like it was made for me.”
You whimper, “You’re my leader—”
“And you’re mine now,” he snarls, hips snapping hard enough to rattle the table. He leans close, breath hot against your lips. “No one else will ever touch you. Wrong or not, you’ll take every drop.”
And when you cum, tears streaming, he fucks through it, smirking down at your wrecked body.
Summary: Your car breaks down in the middle of the night, and the only person who can help you is your best friend's much older brother, Toji. But you both agreed to stay away from each other, so will he actually help you?
Tags: Older Toji x reader, Mechanic! Toji, past but very brief friends-with-benefits, forbidden love?, Toji fights for "the reader", backseat sex, protected p in v, cunnigulingus, fingering, edging. Word Count: 3.1k
A/N: I hope y'all enjoy this one! Dropping some Miguel stuff soon!! Mwah<3
Masterlist
Kinktober
“This cannot be happening!” Running your fingers through your hair, you let out a frustrated sigh as your car comes to a complete stop. You should've listened to your best friend when she told you not to use your car. You knew your car was making weird sounds, but this is your baby. This was the first car you’ve ever gotten. This is your pride and joy; you can’t just give her up!
It’s a quarter to midnight, and now you're stuck on the side of the road 45 minutes away from your house. Who would you even call this late? You go through your contacts and try to see if you can find anyone competent enough to get you out of this sticky situation. You’re about to call your best friend Tasha when you see his name.
Toji
Your finger hovers over the call button as your eyes dart between the two names. Tasha won’t be of much help cause she’s nowhere near you, but Toji, on the other hand, is closer and the town's freaking mechanic; the choice couldn't be clearer on who you should call, so then why are you hesitating?
Oh, you know why that game of 7 minutes in heaven has been etched into your brain since it happened. You made out with your best friend's older brother and let him finger you in the closet, “All for the sake of the game,” that's what he said with that irritating smirk of his, or at least that's what he posed it as. You both agreed not to speak of that moment of weakness from both of you, never again. Truthfully, you haven’t even had a conversation since then….well, sorta kind of anyway!
“This is such a bad idea,” you say to yourself before pressing the call button.
If tonight is proof of anything, you've never been one to make good decisions. He picks up on the second ring, and your stomach flips at the sound of his voice in your ear. “It’s a little late to be calling me sugar, dontcha think?” he says, using that authoritative voice of his. You let out an exasperated sigh. Yeah, this was definitely a bad idea. “I know, I know, I just…” Your words trail off; you don’t know, but for some reason, speaking to him after everything is just so embarrassing. He lets out a “tsk” sound when you don’t speak fast enough for his liking. “Nuh-uh, none of that. You called me for a reason. Be a good girl and speak to me. Use your words,” And of course he makes sure to enunciate the last three words.
“I just didn’t know who else to call; my car broke down, and I’m 45 minutes away from town. You're the only one who can help me. That’s if you want to, of course, you know what, never mind–”
“What’s the address?” He grumbles before the sound of rustling can be heard in the background. “No, Toji, it’s okay-” He cuts you off again, but this time his voice is rougher than the last time. “That wasn’t a suggestion.” How can you forget how bossy he is? You rattle off the address and wait patiently for him to get here.
.
.
.
.
Headlights begin to blind your view, and you use your hands to shield the front of your face and when then there's a knock on your window, causing you to jump at the sound you jump at the sound.
“Open up, girlie, it's me.” Toji's deep voice sends a shiver down your spine. You force yourself to get a hold of your emotions before opening the door. The last thing you need is to embarrass yourself in front of him. Stepping out of the car, you grab onto the front of your dress to make sure you don't flash him in the process.
When you stand in front of him, immediately you take him in from head to toe, and when your eyes travel to your face, you realise he's doing the same thing also. “Who you getting all dressed up for, huh?” he says as he walks to the hood of your car. “No one, a girl can look nice without it being for someone else, you know.” His comment makes you want to show off even more. This makes no sense. You shouldn't care what he thinks about your outfit choices.
You take a deep breath before walking over to him with your chin held a little higher. Like hell are you going to let him get under your skin. You watch as he stalks over the hood of your car. He opens it and then begins to inspect it, and if you can guess the way his face turns up in a grimace, you're not going to be able to drive home.
Well, at least not in your own car, that is.
“It's best that we just try to be as normal about this as possible.” You try to keep your voice as light as it can be. The last thing you need is for him to know how much his presence is affecting you.
“Normal, you say? You're the one who called me past midnight, asking for help, girlie.”
“I know I just don't want to make things awkward—” your words trail off as you think of what else to say. He turns to face you with his eyebrows raised and his hand on his hips. This time you take him in from head to toe again, the way his shirt clings onto his muscular frame and the way his jeans hang looser on his hips. So loose the band of his underwear is peeking through.
You clear your throat, shaking your head slightly to get your curls out of your face. “So you want to erase and pretend that nothing has ever happened between us. Is that what you're saying?” As he speaks, you watch his scar on the right side of his lips. You remember how those lips felt against your cheek, grazing your ear, every moment, and as much as you want to forget it, you can’t.
With you being so caught up in your head, you didn’t realise that he took a step closer to you. “Toji I-”
He lets out a deep sigh before he speaks. “No, no, it’s okay, so you want things to be professional, huh? So then pay up; you got a busted engine, and you might need a new battery. That alone is pushing $1,000, and that's me being generous.”
You nearly choke at his words. This has to be some kind of sick joke. “Toji, now you know damn well I don’t just walk around with that kind of money on me. Isn’t there some other way-”
“Nope, that’s the only way unless you have some other way of paying?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively, and you hit his shoulder instinctively. “God, you can be so insufferable sometimes. Whatever you’re thinking about, drop it; it’s not going to happen again. We promised to never do what we did again.” The last line comes out as a mumbled mess.
He smacks his lips before he speaks. “You made that promise. I never agreed to any such thing.” This time, you're fully aware of the next step he takes, and this time, you take a step back. “Toji, please, I-”
“Don't run from me, you know I love a good chase.” You swallow nervously at his words as your eyes dart from the clouds to his face. What are you going to do with him? “We could've made it work this thing between you and me, but you ran away with your tail between your legs before we both got to really enjoy it.”
Shaking your head as you listen to his words, you let out an exasperated huff. “You’re ten years my senior, and not to mention you're my best friend's brother, what we did in the closet-”
“And the next three nights after that, we decided to go more advanced, or are you forgetting that too?” You curse him mentally for the not-so-gentle reminder—you truly wanted to forget about that…well, about those nights.
“I'm not forgetting; I just choose when I want to remember them.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you're annoyed. Why would you word it like that? Toji takes another step closer, and while you take a step back, your back hits the side of your car. Dammit, there's nowhere else for you to go.
His eyebrows raise with that knowing look of his. God, he’s going to say something stupid, isn’t he? “Oh, so you’re telling me you pick and choose to remember when we fucked in your room while your parents were in your backyard. Are you telling me you pick and choose to remember when I pinned you against the wall and fucked you in the back of a crowded bar or-”
You throw your hands up in defeat and walk away from him. You will not let him get to you like this; you won't allow him to urk your spirit. You’re not even able to get 6ft away from him when you feel his hand on your wrist pulling you backwards. “Nuh-uh, you don’t get to walk away from me when I’m talking to you.”
You resist, trying to tug your arm away to the best of your ability. It's always like this with you and Toji, the constant push and pull between the two of you as if you're playing a game of tug of war. “Toji, I’m not doing this with you.” You yell out. Your chest is rising rapidly as you stare at him. To your surprise, you feel something wet landing on your forehead and then on your shoulder. Of course, with just your luck, it’s going to fucking rain. “No, we are going to do this right here and right now, forget about everyone and anything else. Why did you push me away?” He takes the chance to take another step closer to you, pressing you against the side of his car. You decide that it would just be easier to give him an answer than to ignore his question altogether. Giving in, you let out an exasperated sigh before speaking. “Toji, I just—it wasn’t right going behind everyone’s back like that. I didn’t like the sneaking around and-”
“Is that the only reason? Are you telling me you only stopped because you were upset about going behind everyone’s back? Are you telling me the girl who fights me on everything is scared of what people would think?”
“Toji, it’s not that simple.”
“No, it is that simple. Do you want me, yes or no? Look around us, there's no one here right now for miles.” You feel one of his hands hovering over your hips while the other tucks a curl behind your ear. “Tell me you want me. Tell me you want us, tell me you want this.” Unable to look into his eyes, you look away, turning your head to the left, but he guides your face back to look at him with his index finger. “Don’t run away from me, tell me you want us.” His voice is stern; it sounds like he’s demanding instead of asking, but that's what you liked about him. He was a man who always got what he wanted without having to do much, and if he didn’t, he would fight until he got it. You look into his eyes and remember all the ways he fucked you, rough, fast, slow, but nothing would beat when he was gentle with you. So gentle as if you could break at any second. Although it was only 3 days, the two of you shared fooling around; you wouldn’t exchange those 3 days for anything.
“If you want me, you can have me, Toji.” As soon as those words leave your lips, his hands are on you as you press your lips to his. His hands are on your waist, then on your face as he deepens the kiss. His lips might be soft, but his kisses are not. He kisses you as if he’s running out of air and you're his only source of oxygen. “I needed you so fucking much,” He says as he breathes into your neck while hiking up your dress in the process. Without wasting any time, he places rapid kisses on your neck, and your fingers thread through his hair. You let out a gasp when you feel his fingers gliding along your pussy. He plunges a finger inside of you and moves it in and out. Grabbing his face, you pour all of your emotions into the kiss, nipping at his bottom lip as you pull away. You can feel the familiar pressure building up deep within you as gasps fall from your lips.
Just before you can reach your peak, he's removing his finger and reaching around you. “Toji, why did you—” You whine while tracking his movements. “After all this time, if you're gonna cum, sweetheart, you're gonna cum on my cock” You let out a laugh as the car door opens and you slip inside without him having to ask. In order to help him, you finish hiking up your skirt and rest your bottom on the seat, using both of your hands to hold yourself up. Toji hooks a finger to push your underwear aside, and what he does next is unexpected.
He places a kiss on your cunt.
You hear him inhale before letting out a deep sigh. Upon instinct, you begin to close your legs, but he knows you too well because he’s already shaking his head and pushing your thighs further apart. “Tojiii….” You manage to groan out his name; you're practically whining as you drag out the last syllable. He ignores your protests and begins devouring you. He sucks on your clit while one of his hands massages your thighs, and the other hand pistons in and out of you. It’s not long before you are reaching the finish line, but just like last time, he breaks away right before you cum.
You begin to shake your head rapidly. He needs to stop denying your orgasm, or you swear. “Toji, please, please please fuck me, I can’t-” He smiles as he hears your words, and you begin latching onto him wherever you can. Grabbing onto his arms, his chest, and his neck. A laugh falls from his lips as he stares at you.
“Y’so needy for me, sweetheart. Is there a way that I can fix it?” He says in a mocking tone while he slowly unbuckles his belt. He guides you to sit up so he can get inside the car. Finally, he pulls out his thick cock; the tip is already leaking with precum. Greedily, you reach out your index finger, rub it against his tip, and bring it towards your mouth to suck. As soon as your finger leaves your mouth, he laces his fingers around your neck and pulls you down until your faces are mere inches apart.
“I'm so fucking obsessed with you”, he says breathlessly before placing his lips against yours. Unlike the previous kisses, this one is slow and almost soft. Your tongue enters his mouth to taste him, and you hum in satisfaction when his tongue reaches out to meet yours. When he breaks the kiss, he reaches into his pocket and fishes out a condom. With the amount of adrenaline pumping in your veins, it feels like it took him 2 seconds to roll on the condom because you can already feel his tip pressing against you.
Slowly, his dick sinks into your pussy, and you both groan at the feeling. Thankfully, his truck is super big, so as you move further into the truck, he is able to fully be inside the space without it being uncomfortable for him. Once you're both comfortable, he slowly begins to move. Wrapping your legs around his waist to lock him in place, you guide his face to yours and place a kiss on his lips.
It’s not long before his pace increases, and you're moaning into the kiss. “F-Fuck Toji”, you breathe against his lips. He pulls away and buries his head into your neck and places small kisses all over it. When he’s done, he brings his face back to your face, his lips mere inches from yours as his hips continue to move. “Fuck I’ve missed this—I’ve missed you. I haven't been with anyone else since you y’know”
“What? Toji, there's no way,” You say as confusion dances across your features. You're not even sure what you should say to this. Expecting an answer from him, you almost become annoyed when he just smiles at you. “Well, if we’re being honest, I haven’t been with anyone else since you too” The movement of his hips comes to a complete stop, and the two of you are just sitting there studying each other. It feels like forever before he breaks the moment and kisses you, with one hand tangled up in your curls and the other wrapped around your throat. Before you can say anything, he begins to sit up, so now you are straddling him.
You run your fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. Slowly you move your hips as you trace the scar on his face. “For the record, I missed you too” It’s your turn to put your hand on his neck, and he hums at the feeling. His hands glide down your body, kneading and squeezing your breasts before removing them from your dress. He takes his time giving each breast attention, sucking and nipping at them until your nipples harden into points.
Finally, when his hand reaches your ass, he helps you move up and down along his length. It’s not long before you're a moaning mess again, the familiar pressure building deep within your stomach. Without warning, you feel his thumb rubbing circles against your clit and, needlessly, you begin to grind, chasing the high. “That’s it, baby girl, take what you need from me”, he urges, and you move your hips even faster. As the words leave his lips, you feel your body beginning to twitch. “Oh fuck T-Toji I’m-”
“I-I know, baby, that’s it, keep going, I’m going to cum with you” You barely register his words as you begin to cum. Your moans echo in his large truck, and when you feel his large arms wrapping around your body, followed by his moans, you know he’s cumming too.
It takes you both some time to come down from the after sex bliss. Even after experiencing an orgasm, he’s still semi-hard inside of you. If it wasn’t for your broken-down car, you would’ve asked for another round. Gently, he takes one of your curls and begins to twirl it around his fingers. A devious smile emerges on his face before speaking.
"Please me~ baby, Turn around and just tease me~ baby, You got what I want and what I need, baby."
pairings: Joshua Martín x blackfem!reader
wc: 4.6k
warnings: (18+), Smut, use of condoms, dirty talk, brief self- pleasure(m!), oral (f!receiving), fingering, spanking, blowjob, spitting, light manhandling, pet names( good girl, baby, etc), You're horny but he's hornier, Freak matched.
Note: Fun fact, I made the gif from a screenrecording
"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you to the airport?" Joshua asked, standing by the door with his arms crossed. Annoyed.
He found her pulling out her suitcase After he had gotten off from work. At first, he was Confused, did Lindsey find out that you knew about her and Simon? Or that he was helping you mess with them? Perhaps she learned, somehow, that you and Joshua were going to have dinner together.
But by some luck, Lindsey didn't know about you and him nor what he was about to do while she's gone. Joshua thought that they'd have a night of peace, sadly for him, he was wrong. Their usual screaming match made its way at home the last night. Of course, The stability that he craved was nonexistent in his household.
His body still tense with irritation pulsing in him. Lindsey sat stiffly on floor, packing as she continued to ignore him completely. Lindsey always did this, punish him for being suspicious. Rolling eyes, he released an exasperated sigh. "Are you seriously going to pretend I'm not here?"
No response.
This was ridiculous. She's really giving him the silence treatment, like a child. Annoyed, he left the room, The energy of their fight still lingering in the walls that once brought him joy. She calls him dramatic for being upset, but he had every right to be. Lindsey was leaving to go visit her parents for a week and choose to tell him about it yesterday, After already buying the ticket.
And then told him that he was over-reacting, The nerve of her. As he upset as he was about it, he couldn't to feel glad. Finally, he can have days of peace without her desperate need to control everything and him, he could actually enjoy his time with you. Alone.. in his house. Just The thought of which, had him adjusting himself in the another room. the bedroom door opens with almost violent yank.
Lindsey walks past him, wheeling her suitcase behind her. He watches her quietly. His gaze boring into her as she moved around. She stops, not turning around. "You're still mad?" She sighed, shaking her in disappointment. "Of course you are."
Joshua laughed lowly, frustration flashing across his face. Was she seriously asking him that? Knowing the answer. "Oh? Well, excuse me for being upset about this, I just assumed that you'd ask your husband to go with you. You know, so I can comfort you."
"I shouldn't have to explain why I'm visiting my family, Josh." Lindsey turns to him, scowling. "An emergency isn't planned."
"I know that, Lindsey. But you choose to tell me two days afterward, it's a little odd, don't you think?. It makes it difficult for me to trust you—"
"Difficult to trust? How dare you." She narrowed her eyes, glaring at him. Her ears burning with anger. "My husband should trust me, not looking for a reason to attack me when I'm in a family emergency!" She snaps, shoving a book in her carry-on. She's already had two different fights with him, Why couldn't he just leave her alone. "I want a husband that doesn't chaste me for doing things in the moment."
As just They began argue, again, a sleek black car pulls into the driveway. Her phone chimes, checking it, she looks at Joshua once more. "I'm done fighting with you. I'll call when I land." She kisses his cheek and walked away. Joshua tilts his head, watching her take her suitcase and roll it with her.
She looks back at him, taking a deep breath before leaving. "I'll see you in a few days, goodbye."
After Lindsey Closed the door behind her. He went towards the window. Lindsey sild her suitcase beside a different one in the trunk before getting in the sedan. Leaving him alone in the house. The sudden weight was lifted off his shoulders, exhaling, he silently got his keys and went to his car. Starting it, A small smile grew on his lips as he thought about the upcoming dinner. Driving to the store.
Meanwhile, in your home. You stood at the end of your bed, freshly showered and well moisturized. Anxiously, Your Eyes swept across the various pieces of your clothing you had laid out in a colorful sheet.
Up until this moment, it had been hours since Simon left for his 'Business' trip. And You assumed that you'd have an outfit ready but With having so many options, you were still at a lost.
"That's too bright... this is too gray... Damnit!" Slumping your shoulders. Finally saying screw it, you pulled your phone and called the one person who could help you in this moment. Sylvia. After two rings, she answers.
"Hello?"
"Girl. I don't know what to wear." you sigh, rubbing your face in frustration. This wasn't often, you're quite fashionable with your outfits but this was different. For the first time in years, you were nervous about your clothing. Walking back inside the closet, you started looking through your clothes again.
"Just put something nice on. from what you told me, he'd like you in anything. Hell, he'll probably rip your clothes off as soon as you enter, so why does it matter?"
"Sylvia." You say, holding your phone between your shoulder and head, eyeing a pair of flats before taking them out. "It matters to me because it's been years since I've gone on a date, I want to get this right, we're having dinner at his place and we agreed on a casual setting."
"Oh? Then, Wear something comfy... like a t-shirt and some panties on. Oh! You could wear your good bra."
"Sylvia.." you warned, staring at the wall. You're having a mini crisis and she tells to show up in your underwear. Of course, she would tell you that. Hesitantly, You took out the bra and panty set, AKA, the good bra Sylvia spoke of.
"Nah, But for real. change things up, wear something different. What would you feel comfortable in? "
"Hmm.." You furrow your eyebrows, heavy in thought about for a minute before answering. "I bought a cardigan a few weeks ago. It's dark green with flowers on its sleeves, I really like it... and it's comfortable too."
"Well.. then wear it, enjoy being comfortable."
"Yeah?" You nod, putting your shoes down. She was right, you like being comfortable, and you should be comfortable. "You're absolutely right, thank you."
"No problem, I wish you luck. Hope you get put through the mattress!"
Sylvia hung up before you could respond. Now in the quietness of your room, Your shoulders shook with laughter as you dropped your head. of course, she'd say that.
As much as you want pretend that she's wrong, you were hoping she's right. You took out the cardigan and went back to the bathroom. Now, calmer than before.
'Alright, I just need ring the doorbell...'
You stood on his doorstep, holding your purse in your hands. You're doing it, you're about have a date for first in years. You subconsciously move shift your weight from foot to the other, unable to stand still.
You couldn't help it, you've been prepared for this moment since the morning. Perhaps, a bit too prepared. You stuck your hand in your bag, it brushes across the box of condoms before grasping the lip gloss. While applying it, you began to wonder if you should feel remorse for thinking of being in bed with him, With his strong arms, you believed that you were moving things too fast.
Luckily for you, the remorse had left and in its place, pure unadulterated need. You were unbelievably enthusiastic about the thought of tonight and he was too. While in your thoughts, an abrupt and jarring one came to mind.
'I hope his dick is big, It felt like it in the car—Whoa, relax!'
You blink, deeply confuse before rubbing your lips together. Where did that come from? Were you finally becoming feral due to your sexual frustration because Why would you think that? Letting out a sigh, You put your lip gloss back in your purse and fixed your bra, unknowingly showing a little more skin before pulling your shoulders back, You gently rang the doorbell.
While cooking in the kitchen, Joshua peaked up at the sound of the doorbell. He sets the spoon down and left the room, heading towards the door. He opens it to you, standing there in a simple black shirt tucked in your skirt and dark green cardigan, with pink embroidered flowers on the sleeves. "It's good to see you. How was the drive over?" He asks.
"Fine. A little confusing, Got lost twice but doable." You smile, shrugging. God(s), you looked so damn pretty it hurts. His chest felt warm, like when he went on his first date. Well, technically. This was his first date in years, and with you.
Josh lent forward and gave you a kiss, It's was soft and brief, before moving aside to let you in. He wanted to kiss you more, but he's still cooking and needs to not burn the food. Walking in, you pressed your lips in a fine line. the living room was decorated with gold and velvet with a green floral couch against the wall.
It looked haphazardly put together, like someone got annoyed in the middle of picking out the items. It was... a lot on the eyes, but you kept your shut and followed josh to the kitchen.
Josh pulled out your chair, Gesturing to it. You smile and sat down, moving closer to the table. Not bad, he's doing pretty good. "So, What have you made?" You ask, watching him go back to the stove, turning it off. Opening the cabinet, Josh took two plates, sat them on the counter, and started adding food onto it.
Coming back over, Joshua held both plates im his hands. "I'm going to be completely honest, I did not know what you liked so I kept it simple," He sets the dish down in front of you, the smell of grilled meat and the sight of white pasta made your mouth water a little. "I hope you like steak and pasta Alfredo."
"You know I will." Chuckling, You cut a piece of your steak and popped it in your mouth. It's juicy with a nice smokey flavor, Damn... if he's as good in bed as he is in the kitchen, you might just marry him tonight. Nodding, you grin at him. "This is so good, you did a great job." Joshua exhaled, releasing a breathe he didn't know he was holding. As silly as it was, Pride bloomed in his chest at your praise.
He could feel his skin flush at it, Joshua smiles, opening the wine bottle. "Thank you." after he poured some in your glasses, you held yours up "A toast to new beginnings." You said, looking at him fondly.He nodded, holding up his.
"To new beginnings."
"Cheers." You two toast, the soft clink Of glass echoing in air as you both began a new chapter in of your lives.-
After dinner, the night continued to be filled with talks, laughter, and stories from the past. Joshua watched you While cleaning the dishes, he shook his head in disbelief. "No way." He says, glancing at you.
You nod, smirking. "Yes, way.. After five years of ignoring our old neighbor, who kept messing with us. On that day, my mom lost her shit, until that morning I never knew she could get that loud. She told her that if she kept bothering us, she'll bust her upside the head and ride in the ambulance with after beating her ass."
"And what did your dad say?"
"He said, 'She'll do, and I'll bail her out. I have the money!' That bitch RAN back in her house and never came out for rest of the day!" You cackled, leaning against the wall. As you did, Joshua couldn't help but to admire the joy on your face.
Your smile, that adorable, alluring smile was infectious. Joshua hasn't had a talk like this in years, the most he thought about it, the more he quietly cursed who or whatever was in charge for not letting him meet you first. you are his.. exact kind of woman. Taking a deep breathe, you turned back to Josh, now much calmer. "See why it's my favorite story."
"Yeah, That was a funny one." He says. Putting the last plate on the rack. Drying his hands, Josh looking at you. Your pulse quickened under your skin at his heavy gaze. You cross your arms, looking right back. "What, you want another kiss from me or something?" You jokingly asked.
Joshua turns around and tilts his head, pressing his back against the sink. "You know what I want... come here." Intrigued, You strolled towards him, eyeing him. Now in arms reach, His hands took their place on your hips as pulled you against his body, the light pain of his belt pressing on your side was noticeable but not as distracting as he was in this moment.
You were burning from his touch. You closed the distance with a kiss, passionately cupping his cheek, you lick his upper lip. Oh, you were needy. You couldn't believe how badly you needed him.
Joshua moans in kiss, sending a jolt of arousal to his dick. He was quickly drowning in ecstasy, growing hungrier for you. Sliding his tongue inside. Josh's hands move to your lower back, grabbing your backside as he explored your mouth.
It wasn't long until the sweet kiss became more desperate, walking you up to the wall. Joshua Kept his lips pressed firmly against yours, feverish touching you all around, making your skin prickle under his hands. As you suckle on his tongue, your thoughts started to cloud your judgment. Suddenly, you pulled back. Joshua furrowed his brows, still holding you. "What's wrong, do you want to stop?"
"No, no. Um, I kinda jumped you in a way.. As silly as this sounds, Are you comfortable with this? Even though it's too late for me to ask this quest—" Joshua cuts you off by taking your hand and pulling it to his pants, he carefully made your hand him through his jeans, eyes widening, Your lower stomach flutters at his actions. "Oh shit, Josh."
Groaning, Joshua rolls his hips forward, grinding against your palm, seeking more delicious friction. He leans closer to your ear. whispering. "I'm glad you care about me, but I'm not uncomfortable and I really need you, now." He says, licking his lips. "I'm so hard that it hurts."
"Joshua–"
"Do you feel what you've done to me?" The shame in you vanished rapidly. nodding. You undid his belt, staring into his soul.
"I want to be your bed."
He takes your hand and pulled you with him down the hall, the heat between your legs growing stronger slick, When you both enter his dimmed bedroom, Joshua closes the door after you sat on the bed. He comes back to you He was Ready to get to his knees when you stopped him. "Take off your clothes and sit at the edge of the bed, please."
Without another word, Joshua unzips his pants, pulling them off, he kicked them away before pulling his shirt over his head. Now in his underwear, he glances at you, and you nod, silently telling him to do it. With your consent, he pulls them down. Sliding them past his thighs, His length hits his stomach, eager, hard, and leaking with precum. The air hits him, making him twitch.
Your eyebrows rose to your hairline, 'oh... that's not fair, he's pretty.. everywhere.' You clear your throat as Josh sat next to you, touching himself. You gently cupped his face, His eyes flutter shut as soon as your palm touches his face. "Do you think of me when you pleasure yourself?" You ask, kissing his neck. "Imagine me, putting my hand down your pants and stroking you slowly.."
"Yes. Fuck, i can't help it.. you're still stuck in my head—Can't sleep without thinking about you–"
"So why don't I help you?"
"Please, Wait–" His eyes flew open, He watched in complete awe when you slowly spit onto the head of his cock, His body felt fuzzy, like static had shot over him. your saliva ran down the side of his shaft and pooled at the base. Shimmering in his faint, short pubic hair. Joshua shakily rubs his hand up, lubricating it with your saliva. "Oh, F-fuck..." he whines, thickly swallowing his saliva.
"What, you like this?" He nodded frantically, turning to look at you, You gently held his jaw and kissed him, moaning quietly, You slipped your tongue in his mouth while your other hand slid down his stomach to his shaft, it easily replaces his in a matter of seconds. He pulls away, gazing down to your hand with heavy-lids. Tightening your grip for a moment.
Joshua was drunk, happy, and everything in-between. You moved from the bed to the floor, sitting between his thighs As his clear precum slicked your hand, You lean forward and gave him a lick from base to tip, gently kissing the head of his Dick. Savoring the faint saltiness of his precum.
You kept eye contact as you slapped it against your tongue a couple times. Joshua lets out a low pleased hum, watching how your lips parted around his length, engulfing him in wet heat.
Slowly, you began bobbing your head and stroking him, making sure to gently twist him in your grasp. He slowly pushed himself farther in your lips, running his hand over your hair, Joshua's thighs tense up under your palms as you sucked him off. He dropped his head back, pointing his chin toward the ceiling.
"More..." He groans quietly, tightening his grip around your hair. "Please, baby. I need mo–O-oh–"
Hollowing your cheeks, the slurping noises intensifies as the pace picks up. Your push more and more of him in until you nose rubbed across the pubic stubble. Joshua whimpers, carefully thrusting up into your mouth. "Oh. Ohh shit.." The suction was perfect, you were perfect. Goddamn, If Simon believed you were lacking in the bedroom, then he was a lost cause.
Pulling back, You stared in his eyes and your swirled tongue on the head of his dick before dipping it into the slit. Joshua could feel that familiar curl in stomach. Panicked, He quickly pulls you off of him, Huffing quietly. A string of spit mixed with cum falling from your swollen lips. Confused, You asked what was wrong and if he wanted to stop.
"Nothing, and please don't." Joshua blinks, trying to steady his breathing. His eyes dazed, heart pounding in his chest as he spoke. "You're good at this, too good this, Nearly ruined the night."
You giggle, licking a stripe on the underside of his cock. He throws his head, Trying to not come instantly. You smirk. "You want me to keep going? Baby." You ask teasingly.
He stops, looking down at you. "No," He leans in close to your ear. "I want you to lie on the bed and open your legs so I can fuck you right.." Joshua rasp, gently nipping your lobe. Fuck this, he needed you now.
'Ooh shit..'
You froze and stared at the wall behind the bed, still on your knees, when Josh sat back, your heart rate spiked as you looked right at him, His brown eyes were half-lidded and almost black with lust, his hands clench as you two kept staring at one other.
'Oh.. oh.. ohhh, It's done.. you're not walking in morning'
."Okay—Oh!"
Suddenly, the world spun as Josh grabbed you by the hips and flopped you onto the bed. He tried, he really did try to keep his cool but his patience was gone. Joshua need you now. He hiked your skirt up, showing the garters on your plush thighs.
Fuck, you were gorgeous. the sight of your light blue panties, now wet with your slick was almost too much in his lust hazed mind. pulling your legs apart, he slowly peels them off, leaving you bare. His mouth watered at the sight.
Your were folds puff and wet, glistening in the low lighting. Unable to resist, Joshua shakily reached forward to collect some. Sighing quietly. "You're fucking soaked.." he sucks your essence off his fingers before kneeling in front you. "Josh, please." You mewled, dropping your head back. "I know, I know. You don't have to beg, I'm going to take care of you." His thumb brushes across your clit, causing it to jump under it. You bit down on your lip, breathless, you gasp when he slowly pushed two fingers in, bucking your hips up to meet then.
Joshua placed his clean hand on your stomach, holding you still. "Do you hear her? She's been wantin' this... listen."
Clenching around the digits, The room was filled with the sound of your breathy and the slickness of your arousal coating as he worked them in and out, your dipping core sent a thrill through Josh as he watched. Licking his lips, Joshua gave your pussy a kiss before latching onto your clit.
A loud, high-pitched whimper escaped your soft lips, your hands immediately going to his hair, pulling it. Joshua rutted against the mattress, Hungrily losing himself in your slit, as he rotates between sucking and lapping at your delicate folds, slurping noisily. You were smooth, like honey on his tongue. So sweet, and so his. You were his, and He couldn't get enough, you were getting to him, and he wanted more.
He pulls off with a faint 'pop!' Keeping the same, Languidly pace of his fingers. He gazes at you, his once brown eyes were now dark, like a shark who's caught the scent of blood. "Look at you, a married woman letting me play with her pretty pussy.." He grins, putting a wet kiss on your inner thigh. "You like it, don't you? my fingers deep in you."
"Hm–mm.. They're so–aha~"
He angles his wrist and curls his fingers upward, rubbing over that deep inside. Tears lined your lashes, whining, you looked at him and Squeezed around his fingers, Your nub jumps under the pad of his thumb as he rubbed circles on it.
"Do you hear how wet you are? how needy she is?" He teases, keeping his pace. "You wanna cum, right? Want her to feel good?" You nodded dumbly, incapable of trusting your voice. It Usually takes a lot for you to silenced, but to be reduced to moans and soft gasps is a whole other concept, you were melting into a puddle of heat and euphoria from his hand. "I want an answer, baby."
"Yes! Yes, please!"
"Then do it, cum on my fingers. Do it." He commanded, pumping His fingers faster, the squelching grew more as he Rubbed faster circles, with a shudder, you finally reached your peek. "Josh!" You cried out, Arching your back. heat rolls over your body in delicious, satisfying waves, as You lock your tights around his head.
A few moments pass before you freed him, Joshua sits back, his mouth wet as he smiles with pride. Getting off the floor, He crawled onto the bed Looking equally as disheveled. You immediately hooked your finger under his shark necklace and pulled him down into a kiss, you sigh softly, tasting yourself on his lips. Joshua blindly grabs a condom from your bag and opens it, you watch him rolled it over his dick before hovering over you again.
Joshua looks at you with hesitation, his mind was dizzy and his body sweaty. "Are you ready?" You nod, spreading a little wider. he slowly entered you, inch by inch until he's completely in. Gripping his biceps, he stops. Allowing you to adjust to his size. Joshua squeezed his eyes shut, his fingers dug into your flesh almost painfully your walls tighten around him in response.
'Don't cum, not before her... oh, please don't cum." He thought, Yeah.. he's a goner.
Deeply intoxicated, Your hips buck, causing him to murmur your name softly. He felt so heavy and so deep inside, but it wasn't enough, you need more of him, and you need him now. "You can move, Josh. Please move, be rough." His eyes widens, looking much more focused than before. You weren't going lie, it did kinda throw you off.
"You like it rough, huh?" Josh hooked your legs on his arm, leaning forward. "Don't worry.. I'm gonna ruin you." He says through gritted teeth, slamming in, your mouth shaped itself into a quiet 'oh' as He sild his hands between the bed and your ass, pulling your hips upwards to meet his Merciless rhythm.
your eyes gloss over as you wails bounced off the walls. Oh, He was getting desperate, you could feel him rubbing your G-spot with the tip. In a poor attempt to stay grounded, you turned your attention to his shark necklace, it swings back and forth. Hypnotizing you.
"Hey, Hey." Josh stalls, his eyebrows furrowing as he gently took your jaw in his grasp, making you look at him. "Look at me, Don't look away. Be a good girl and Look at the man who taking you so fuckin' well." Nodding wordlessly, Drool rolls from the corner of your mouth, down the side of your cheek. He chuckles and licks clean.
You quickly wrapped your legs around his waist, A familiar fiery coil tightens in your gut. Sweat rolling down your chest. "I'm so close, Josh–ah" Your voice cracks as you dug your fingers into his skin.
He nods and quickly pushes your legs to your chest, folding you in half as he drove into you at a brutal pace. "I can feel it, Come on, do it... squeeze around me... cu—Oh, f-fuuck~!"
Trembling, As You dissolved in pleasure, You gasped. Letting your vision go black. A ring of white cream forms at the base of his his as you came, making Joshua shudder, groaning your name in a guttural tone. Your walls spasm and contract around his length, causing him to reach his peek.
Joshua threw his head back, pounding into you, one two, three times before Thick white ropes spurts out of him, filling the condom. Minutes pass, The two of you pant in silence, finally coming down from the high.
Joshua wraps his arms around you, lying on top of you while you combed your fingers through his graying-curls. The contrast between the desperation of before to calm, stillness of now was like night and day, You giggled tiredly, finding it amusing.
Turning his head, Joshua kisses your lips affectionately, his need still lingered in it as you met with the same eagerness. He slowly pulls out, leaving you feeling empty as he stood up and went to bathroom. Looking up at the ceiling, You shivered. The sweat that poured off you body, had now chilled down.
Joshua comes back with a warm washcloth and gently cleaned you up. You jolt as he made contact with your now sensitive folds, "How are you feeling?" He asks, watching you face.
"Satisfied," you yawned, covering your mouth. "But tired."
Listening, He nodded and Kissed you on the forehead. After throwing the towel in hamper, Joshua sild back in the bed and took you back in arms. You tried to push him away. "No, don't hold me. I'm all sticky."
Joshua laughs, looking down at you. "And so am I. Go to sleep, we'll shower together in the morning."
"But–"
"No." He says, cutting you off. You wanted to fight him on this, but the exhaustion in your body was stronger than your own rebuttal.
Sighing, you rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes. Letting out a yawn himself, Joshua turns off the light. Leaving you two in gentle, peacefully silence.
Hello, fellow explorers...it has been some time since I was able to make a log. I was...stranded. Lost. My original outpost destroyed. All my previous logs, my research, my archive, were terminated... nothing is left....so I must gather the pieces of what's left, and start again. More methodical, more aware. I will not let these logs disappear into the stars, forever lost to those who once peered at them in the night. Upon the last dying star, I swear it. *sigh* But saying isn't doing. I must begin again, and I have a lot to get started on... let's get to work.
End Log.
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Side Note: If you followed or were interested in my previous outpost and still wanted to see the following disclosed content, I have 2 other outpost ready for them.
Knight or King/Queen X blackfem!readers -> @snaredacrossmyweb
Zuko & Suki X BlackFem!Readers -> @snarethekinetic
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For those unfamiliar with me, you may call me Dark or Snare. I am an explorer of the supernatural, mystical, and other worldly. I am a ⤵
·✶· Black Bisexual Woman ·✶· 23 ·✶· Monsterfucker ·✶· X BlackFem!reader Writer
To the explorers who are vastly younger than I, I implore you to not interact with this outpost and its archive. This is not a space meant for you, and I will not bend my accommodations to suit you. Please exit.
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As previously stated, I research, watch, and indulge in a variety of mannerisms with many creatures and beings. Those of particular interest include:
A handy chart of bingo for monsterfucker indulgence was made <- and so I have filled it out if you are curious to see a visual full extent of my range
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I feel I should lay out some ground rules. If you have a issue with any of the 3 notes, then you should leave. They go as follows...
1 ☆ I shall reiterate that my own findings and written research is done all from and FOR the perspective of me and fellow BLACK readers. If you are uncomfortable with this, then this space isn't for you.
·✶· This outpost is for BLACK READERS (fem, masculine leaning, nby)! If you aren't black, you're still allowed to interact, indulge, and read, but you are not allowed to complain or send ask asking me to write white/pale complexions! 98% of the many x readers outpost and collectors that inhabitant and fill those spaces are quite LITERALLY and frankly written with pale, complexioned individuals as their target audience without dark skinned readers in mind! I understand what that exclusion feels like even around like wanted peers. We need more inclusive spaces and archives where it's dark skinned individuals in mind and that's what this outpost aims to achieve! Don't like? Then get out of my outpost and archive!
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2 ☆ A serious note, because I am bisexual, it reflects on my outpost and in my research logs and writing. Being bisexual shapes my identity and the way in which I interact and experience the world and this life. I will NOT tolerate biphobia in any shape form or fashion -> especially from within the LGBTQ+ itself. It may not mean anything to you, because you aren't bisexual and don't experience bisexuality and so are not under the stigmatizations and stereotypes that affect us. It should be common sense, but I fear that and the critical thinking skill are few and far between individual humans anymore.
·✶· Sapphic and m/f ARE on this page! Don't come in here being biphobic, or making assumptions of me based on stereotypes and what's on my page! I am allowed to indulge in whatever content I want because it's fictional and it's safe for me to do so! NO, I don't want threesomes, NO I don't actively prefer or seek m/f relationships, NO I am not male centered and so haven't decentred men because of my attraction to men, NO I am not a cheater, NO I would not actively or consciously leave my gf for a man, and NO my kinks don't reflect what I genuinely want or condone outside a digital space.
If you believe otherwise to any of the marks above and below, you are biphobic and so are most unwelcome here. It goes as follows...
☆"If you have never dated *certain gender* you're not bisexual!"
☆ "Bisexuals don't experience oppression and so are privileged!"
☆ "Bisexual woman aren't actually sapphic cause they always date men"
☆ "Bisexuals are tainted cum stained dittzy whores who fall for the first dick in sight"
☆ "Bisexuals are male centered because they're attracted to men!" -> being male centered is NOT = being attracted to men BTW cause apparently THAT has to be said
☆ "Bisexuals are the main perpetrators of unicorn hunting and so are a danger to lesbians!"
☆ "Bisexuals calling about biphobic and misogynistic talking points biphobic and misogynistic lesbians are using that are the exact same things misogynistic straight incel men say is lesbophobic"
☆ "Biphobic is real"
☆ "Bisexuals using monosexual is a slur!"
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3☆ Another point is for the other wanderers who pass by. They may not read the sign as they pass through, and that is fine, as long as they PASS THROUGH. You are not welcome to stay and interact if you...
·✶· Racist
·✶· Homophobic -> THIS IS AN LGBTQ+ SAFE SPACE
·✶· TERF
·✶· Endo
·✶· Pedo
·✶· Zoos
·✶· MAGA/Trump/ICE Supporters
·✶· Israel supporters
·✶· AI users & 'writers/artist'
☆ People who GENUINELY get into that 'proship/proship dni' discourse! If yall can't:
Handle uncomfortable subjects
Use your own free will to NOT read/interact with it
Understand it's not intended for you or for your taste but is for someone else and THAT'S OKAY cause you aren't the target audience
Go around policing what you think should and shouldn't be written/consumed because of YOUR standards <- everyone has different taste and you can't say something is morally wrong to consume -> unless its pedophilia or genuine romanticization of rape/incest, cause pedophilia IS wrong straight up, and while rape and incest are equally as bad, theres WAY more nuance around it being written
I was raised in early fandom and if you didn't like or if it made you upset? You didn't read it! You have FREE WILL. You can block and move on! You can scroll past it! Works, even if they make you uncomfortable, ARE allowed to exist! <- all this proship drama/bs is completely new to me and I don't understand it whatsoever so I'm keeping all discussion and discourse of it away from my blog!
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If none of the 3 notes above bother or are aimed at you, then you are welcomed! Please take some hot chocolate (☕️) or tea (🍵) and indulge in the archive beside me.
Here among the files and logs, you may find my works:
Masterlist
·✶· Currently, my request -> CLOSED
I WILL write
·✶· Fluff
·✶· Angst
·✶· Hurt/Comfort/No Comfort
·✶· Platonic
·✶· LGBTQ+ themes
·✶· Romance
·✶· Fantasy
·✶· Smut -> with the following kinks
Soft/passionate sex, rough sex, dub/non con, oral, deepthroating, bondage, outdoor sex, primal play, ovipositor, eggpreg, tentacles, praise kink, first time, humping, courtship, breeding, impregnation, heats/mating cycles, knotting, barbed/specialized cocks & pussies, come inflation, creampies (in pussy & ass -> holding/showing it in their mouth disgust me. sorry), belly bulge, normal & forced pregnancy, DP, blow jobs, pegging, marathon sex, marking (neck/mating bites), spit roasted, anal, LIGHT degradation, cunnilingus, age/size/height difference, period sex, clothed sex, handjob, face sitting, facial, edging, teasing, orgasm denial, forced orgasm, begging, blackmail/coercion, kidnapping, aphrodisiac, voyeurism, concubine, slavery -> as long as it has NOTHING to do with the character being black, lactation, glory hole, free use, cock/pussy worship, gangbang, breath play, and gagging / choking
I will NOT write
·✶· Incest
·✶· Pedophilia
·✶· Racism & Raceplay
·✶· Bestiality
·✶· Certain kinks -> that goes as follows...
Wound fucking, watersports, saliva/spit, vomit, scat/poop, leaving intense handprints/bruise, smacking (face & ass -> huge turn off personally), misogyny, breaking-'turning straight'-'fixing' LGBTQ+ labels & identities, degradation, vore, exhibitionism, rapid pregnancy, leather, latex, ruined orgasm, MOST BDSM restrictives beside handcuffs & blindfold, sounding, pet play, discipline, brat training, slavery -> if it's aimed at reader because they're black, foot play, knife and gun play
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Final Notes
You may notice I use emojis in the tags of logs I indulge and write. They are there to differentiate and categorize each added log to the archive. They may look confusing and strange but don't worry! I have a simple guide here for if you'd either like to check them out or if you'd like to avoid those specific contents!
Specialized Tags
fanfic 📖🌈
Reading rainbow reference! Tag for all fanfiction, headcanons, and writing pieces
*❤️🔥
The fire heart at the end of an emoji set represents suggestive or NSFW content is included! If the emoji sets don't have a ❤️🔥 at the end of them, it's a sub emoji set meant for SFW!
EX: 🔥🐲❤️🔥 vs 🔥🐲 -> 1st one contains NSFW content vs the 2nd who is for more general SFW content (like non suggestive art -> dragon concept/design art or plushies)
🔥🐲❤️🔥
All suggestive/NSFW Dragon content: art, writing, etc
🐺🐾❤️🔥
All suggestive/NSFW Werewolf/Canidae content: art, writing, etc
🐆❤️🔥
All suggestive/NSFW Werecat/feline content: art, writing, etc
🐱彡❤️🔥
All suggestive/NSFW Catboy/girl content: art, writing, etc
🕷❤️🔥
All suggestive/NSFW Drider content: art, writing, etc
🧜♂️/🧜♀️❤️🔥
All suggestive/NSFW Merfolk [/men/maid/siren/creature/kraken/leviathan] content: art, writing, etc
🐍❤️🔥
All suggestive/NSFW Naga content: art, writing, etc
👽🛸❤️🔥
All suggestive/NSFW Alien [non xenomorph/yautja] content; art, writing, etc
🖤💀❤️🔥
All suggestive/NSFW Xenomorph/Facehunger content: art, writing, etc
⚔️👽❤️🔥
All suggestive/NSFW Yautja content: art, writing, etc
🦇❤️🔥
All suggestive/NSFW Vampire/Bat Creature content: art, writing, etc
😈❤️🔥
All suggestive/NSFW Demon/Succubus/Incubus content: art, writing, etc
☄️/🪽❤️🔥
All suggestive/NSFW fallen/angel content: art, writing, etc
📺👁❤️🔥
All suggestive/NSFW The Doctor/Harley Sawyer content: art, writing, etc
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
And so we end this introduction and for some, re-introduction here. All has been covered. Not it is up to you and for me to see where we shall go and if we shall meet here again. If your path forward strays from to and we never meet once more, then I wish you well on your journey. If you choose to stay or frequent often, you are always welcome here.
See you out there.
End Log.
ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ!
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Credit to @-pacifyxher- 𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗉𝖺𝖽! ꒱ and others on emojicombos.com o/
Remember to support writers by liking and reblogging as that gives us motivation to keep writing and creating!
A short story exploring the relationship between Onyankopon and a neurodivergent Reader written with Level 2 Autism and severe interoceptive hyposensitivity. While you struggle with verbal communication and often feel isolated by your differences, you have found a haven in Onyankopon. Through flashbacks, the story explores how you have built a healthy, non-codependent relationship, how you navigate intimacy as an asexual partner, and how Onyankopon has helped you learn to love yourself.
○●3,435 words, fluff, autistic reader, canon Onyankopon behavior (blessing y'all), slice of life, flashbacks, emotional regulation, scrapbooking, established relationship, will expand later, petnames/name-calling (love and sweetheart/sweetie), etc●○
For the Gala Of Pride (A Pride Month Collaboration Between @h3avenlyglory & @mtcloudsworld)
Recommended Audio: "All the Flowers in Time" by Jeff Buckley & Elizabeth Fraser
The melancholy, sweet chords of Violet Indiana fill the quiet bedroom, Robin Guthrie's distinctive voice weaving through the air as the ep track "Special" plays from the small speaker. It is a familiar comfort, a rhythmic symphony that grounds the room. The heavy curtains are drawn back on just one side, allowing the late afternoon sun to flood the space, casting a deep, warm orange hue across the bedsheets and the workspace spread over your lap.
You are absorbed in your junk journal. Your fingers smooth down a scrap of yellowed newspaper print, its fibers rasping satisfyingly against your fingertips. This page has a vintage theme. Carefully arranged across the cardstock are buttons in shades of black, brown, and beige, alongside a strip of film that Onyankopon brought home for you weeks ago. You slide a thumb over the plastic of the film, a smile tugging at your lips.
He should be home soon.
Your internal clock registers the time through the shifting angles of light on the wall. He promised to pick up groceries, along with the fabric you wanted for the background of your next spread. Your eyes drift to the cubby unit stretching along the bedroom wall. It houses thirty journals, their spines bulging with drawings, cut-outs, ribbons, tags, and strings. Some of them date back to your youth—archives of your mind’s need to touch, sort, and preserve.
The click of the lock echoes down the hallway, followed by the thud of his footsteps.
He's home.
You pick up a tarnished coin and apply a drop of glue to the back, pressing it into the center of the page. In your mind, you picture him in the kitchen, unpacking the bags, placing every item onto the shelves you prefer, maintaining the order that the household.
For some reason, he has occupied your thoughts all day.
A constriction flutters in the center of your chest—a buzz that resembles anxiety but carries no dread. Your heart accelerates, and your skin tightens. You don't realize that the room has heated under the sun; your brain fails to process the cue of overheating until it overwhelms you. Sensing discomfort, you instinctively kick the blanket off your leg, letting the air hit your skin as you begin to rock back and forth on the mattress.
Your mind drifts back to a summer afternoon during the first year of your relationship. You stood in the middle of a crowded zoo, the sun's glare filtered through your specialized glasses. It was Onyankopon’s first time visiting a zoo, and you had been eager to show him the exhibits. You stood near the enclosure, your eyes tracking the movement, but your body was beginning to shut down. You wore a thin polyester coat in the dead of July, your hyposensitivity masking the fact that your temperature was skyrocketing.
Onyankopon hadn't been watching the giraffes; he had been watching you. He noted the flush on your cheeks, the dampness at your hairline, and the way your rocking had turned stiff and frantic. He didn't make a scene. He didn't ask why you hadn't realized you were sweating. He simply stepped into your line of sight, his frame shielding you from the sun, and smiled.
"Hey," he had said, his voice cutting through the static of the zoo. "It's getting hotter. Want me to carry your coat for you?" As you shrugged out of the fabric, he reached into his backpack and pulled out a chilled water bottle, pressing the plastic against your palm. "Let's take a seat in the shade for a bit. Since we're out in the sun being so active, we both need to keep up with mandatory water breaks. Drink with me."
The memory leaves a warmth in your chest. You reach into the basket beside you, pulling out a handful of leaves you collected last year, gluing them along the border of the newspaper clipping.
Another memory surfaces, dissolving the sound of the music for a moment. You were tucked under the covers in this bed, the screen glowing with an episode of The Originals.
He leaned against the headboard beside you. "Are you hungry?" he asked, looking down at your profile. You shook your head no, your eyes locked onto the screen. He knew your eating schedule by heart, but he always checked anyway, just in case a craving managed to bypass your lack of internal cues or you simply wanted a snack. "I made chicken, cheesy broccoli, and rice earlier," he said, a meal he knew you would eat, shifting his weight. "There is a container right on the middle shelf of the fridge if you want to heat it up later. Okay?"
You nodded.
He had slid into the bed beside you, leaning over to kiss your forehead, his skin smelling of eucalyptus and mint. Turning onto his side, his hand reached for the volume of his scripture on the nightstand. He was a spiritual man, driven by a love for people and an unyielding code. Yet, in all the time you had spent together, he had never once forced his faith or his ideals onto you. He simply lived them, providing a harbor where you were allowed to exist exactly as you were. You loved how authentic he was in every facet of his life.
When the show lost your attention, you had slid across the sheets, pressing your shoulder against his ribcage.
He looked down, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Want me to read to you?" he murmured. You nodded, closing your eyes, knowing his voice would lull you to sleep within minutes.
A knock at the doorframe pulls you back to the present.
Onyankopon stands there, looking so put together—slacks, a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and leather shoes. He always looks neat, a contrast to the mess of paper, knick-knacks, and glue surrounding you.
"Hey," he says, a smile breaking across his lips. "You doing okay in here?"
"Yes," you reply, your voice small, but certain.
You watch him walk to the foot of the bed, setting down a grocery bag. He reaches inside, pulling out a square of crimson fabric—the weave you had been hunting for. Next, he slides a bag of organic fruit gummies across the covers, knowing you despise the chemical taste of artificial candy.
"I found a few things I thought your book might like," he says, a glint in his eyes. He pulls out a sheet of stickers that shift from purple to teal when tilted against the light, along with packets filled with glitter shapes and characters. Finally, he unrolls a remnant of material. "The clerk called it bubble foam fabric. I think you'll like it."
You sit up, clearing your workspace. One by one, you open the packages, your fingers tracing the holographic stickers as they shift under your touch. Onyankopon steps away, unbuttoning his shirt to toss it toward the hamper and taking off his pants before sliding into basketball shorts. He returns, sinking into the mattress beside you, his legs stretching out as he watches you examine the materials. He watches your fingers grip the edges of the encapsulated stickers, shaking them vigorously. Inside the plastic casing, the cartoon characters and glitter cascade through the fluid, catching the amber glow of the bedroom.
In the quiet warmth, ease settles over him. He reflects on the six years the two of you have built together. The journey had its initial hurdles. Onyankopon spent his life traveling, flying across horizons, and navigating a tapestry of cultures, so treating people with dignity was second nature to him. He didn't have an ableist bone in his body, but opening his heart to a neurodivergent partner in the intimacy of a shared home presented a new learning curve.
He remembers the early days of figuring out the shifts in your environment. There were afternoons when you would slip into non-verbal states, or moments when overstimulation crested into breakdowns that shook your frame. He didn't panic, and he never made you feel less-than, even when arguments occurred due to misunderstandings. Instead, he learned and grew. He committed your routines to memory, adjusted to the rigidity of your schedules, and adapted his own life to accommodate your needs. In turn, he watched you strive just as hard, expanding your own boundaries to adapt to his world and routines.
It is a balance—never codependent, but rooted in a mutual effort to understand one another. Looking at you now, content as you manipulate the colors of the stickers, he knows he doesn't just love you; he admires the resilience required to navigate a world alien to your needs. He counts himself fortunate that you chose his arms as the place to lower your guard.
A memory from his perspective flashes through his mind. He remembers a night a few months ago when you suddenly climbed onto his lap, straddling his waist with a burst of verbal energy. You spent forty minutes detailing an article on the auditory communication of elephants, your hands carving the air. In the middle of a sentence about low-frequency vibrations, you halted, blinking at his jaw before asking, "Are you ever going to grow out a beard?"
He was amused by the pivot, cradling your waist with a laugh. "I'll let it grow for a few weeks," he promised. "Don't think you're going to be playing in it."
You gave his chest a pinch before burying your face into his shoulder, letting him trace circles on your back as you murmured promises of love.
Back in the orange light of the bedroom, you press your thumb into the bubble foam fabric he just gave you. Satisfaction ripples through your nervous system. The material offers a dense resistance before springing back, its micro-bubbles triggering a calming sensory wave. You press it again, your chest rising as you exhale fully.
"This is nice. Thank you," you murmur, looking up from the foam to meet his gaze. "Do you want to journal with me?"
Onyankopon’s smile widens, his brown eyes reflecting the late sun. "I can do that for a little before I head down to the court."
He slides off the bed, walking over to the bottom shelf to retrieve his journal. He has completed only two volumes, unlike your sprawling library.
Onyankopon walks back and slides onto the edge of the mattress, the frame creaking as the springs dip under his weight. He opens his journal across his lap to the unfinished "Flower Garden" page, but his gaze drifts back to you.
The golden hour sun streams through the blinds, illuminating your features and making your eyes gleam with a focus that catches in his throat. Affection surges in his chest—an urge to photograph this flash of peace—but he settles.
"You look beautiful," he murmurs, his voice dropping into the register reserved for you.
He leans close, his breath warming your skin before his lips press a lingering kiss to your cheek. His stubble grazes your jawline, sending a shiver through you.
Before he pulls away, you tilt your chin, catching his mouth. The kiss deepens, breaching your usual fleeting touch. It unfolds deliberately as your tongue glides against his, drawing him in. His lips part, meeting you with an unhurried sweetness that sharpens the flutter in your chest into an ache.
When he disengages—leaving a breath of space between your lips—a knowing smile plays at the corners of his mouth.
"Did you miss me today?"
"Yes," you say cleanly, the word the simplest bridge your mind can construct. Articulating expansive thoughts is difficult; words tangle and vanish before reaching your tongue, confining you to silence or the safety of your favorite subjects.
Looking down at the paper scraps in your lap, you realize how much easier it is to breathe in this room. For most of your life, you lived under the isolating pressure of feeling different from everyone else. Memories of youth carry an ache—the teasing from peers who mocked your rocking, or inability to catch on as fast, the reprimands from adults who misread your silence, and the vulnerability of your own body.
Your interoceptive hyposensitivity alienated you from your own form. You recall the shame of past accidents because your brain missed the signal of a full bladder, or weeks of constipation because you couldn't feel the cues of digestion. You spent days freezing in a t-shirt during winter or sweating to exhaustion in a long-sleeve shirt during sweltering weather, oblivious to the danger until someone intervened. Even during high anxiety, you missed the sensation of your racing heart, recognizing panic only when your hands shook and your mind shut down. You grew up feeling broken, marooned by a body that kept secrets, certain no one would share a life with someone who required strict routines to survive.
But those shadows no longer hold power.
You slide your thumb over a bottle cap on the page, shifting closer to him. Onyankopon didn't just step into your world; he mapped its geography. He learned to read the shifts in your posture long before you struggled through an explanation.
Your mind drifts to a rainy evening years ago when you kissed on these sheets, the air warming. When his frame pressed you into the mattress, his eyes searched yours in the dim light, reading the boundary of your expression before you could formulate your comfort level.
“Do you just want to make out tonight?” he whispered, his hand framing your jaw with protective gentleness.
You nodded, relief washing through your chest as he pulled you against him, content to hold and kiss you for hours despite his arousal. Rooted in his faith, Onyankopon believed every soul was designed by God exactly as intended. He never viewed your asexuality as a hurdle or a deficit. To him, your intimacy wasn't a flaw; it was an integral part of your design. You shared sexual intimacy occasionally, and it remained a safe experience—never a demand.
Over the years, his unshakeable praise and open devotion moved you. In turn, his consistency built confidence within your mind. You weren't just surviving your differences; you thrived within them, loved completely.
The realization of how safe you are, how thoroughly understood after years of loneliness, swells beyond what your system can contain.
Your fingers work frantically, pressing the bubble foam, then shifting to spin a laminated paper wheel in the binding. You need the movement, the contrast of colors, and the control, but your throat locks, tightening. Before your brain can decode the emotional shift, tears spill over your lashes, tracking down your cheeks.
Onyankopon notices the instant your rocking hitches. His pen stops. "Hey," he says, his voice sharpening with alertness as he sets his journal aside. "What's wrong?"
You cannot answer. Your verbal processing collapses under the wave of emotion. Panic spikes in your chest; your hands tremble as you swipe at your face and shove your journal toward the edge of the bed. Your mind locks onto a single goal—protecting the paper, the film, and the buttons from the moisture.
Onyankopon shifts, sliding into your line of sight. His face is inches from yours, his eyes focused with tenderness.
"Talk to me, sweetheart," he murmurs, his hand hovering near yours, waiting for permission. "What's happening in there?"
You shrug, your chest heaving as a sob escapes. Your hands twist into your lounge pants, your body rocking harder against the mattress as you ride out the surge.
Knowing abstract explanations are impossible right now, Onyankopon breaks the situation into manageable phrases. He skips asking why you cry and helps you scan the physical world.
"Are you sad?" he asks quietly.
You shake your head, tears still falling.
"Are you in pain?"
You pause, your brow furrowing as you look at him. The question triggers that familiar disconnect. You don't know. You must manually check your body—scanning stomach, arms, hands—trying to discern if the pressure in your lungs is a physical injury or the sheer weight of emotion.
Seeing confusion cloud your features, Onyankopon's posture relaxes. Concern leaves his shoulders, replaced by a gentle cadence. He knows how your mind handles internal cues.
"Are you overwhelmed?"
You exhale shakily and nod. That word fits.
"Do you want to lie down with me?"
Instead of answering, you crawl across the bed, pressing your palms against his chest to push him backward. Onyankopon yields, sinking onto his back against the pillows. You collapse over him, burying your face into the crook of his neck.
His arms wrap around your torso, locking you against his chest in a firm hold that provides the deep pressure your nervous system craves. Your tears wet his collarbone.
"I've got you," he rumbles, the vibration of his chest acting as a frequency that cuts through the chaos. "Come on, breathe with me."
He takes an exaggerated breath, ribs expanding against yours, then exhales in a steady sigh. You close your eyes, focusing on that physical rise and fall, letting his body act as the clockwork your system forgot. You match his rhythm, inhaling eucalyptus, clean laundry, and craft glue, letting the pressure of his embrace ground you.
Time passes in the quiet room. The orange light deepens into a twilight purple along the walls. The crying tapers off, leaving your skin cool and your mind clear, your body settling into a peaceful rest against his weight.
Another memory shifts into focus. The morning after his thirty-fifth birthday, the bedroom sits quiet as early light drags across the floorboards. Remnants of the celebration—a few ribbons and an empty plate—occupy the kitchen counter down the hall, but here, the world shrinks to the space between the sheets.
You are tangled together naked, skin pressed flush against the expanse of his chest. For someone who struggles to feel the internal mechanics of their own body, Onyankopon’s skin is visceral. He is a furnace beneath the cotton sheets, his heat seeping into your muscles, giving your nervous system a solid boundary of where you end and he begins. You lie still, your cheek resting over the steady thud of his heart, listening to his lungs expand and deflate against your ribs.
His arm rests against the small of your back, fingers tracing patterns over your skin. There is no rush, no pressure; your intimacy has built its own path, rooted in respect and presence rather than expectation. You tilt your head back, meeting his eyes.
Onyankopon is already staring down at you, focused. In the gray morning light, the lines of his face relax, the fatigue of his work replaced by serenity. He doesn't look away when you catch him watching. Instead, his thumb moves to your jawline, sliding over the skin, his touch light but deliberate.
"I'm really happy with you," he whispers, his voice a low rumble that vibrates into your chest.
You don't answer right away, your fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck, enjoying the texture against your palms. You shift your hips against his legs, a movement to soothe yourself in the quiet space.
His gaze locks onto yours, refusing to let the moment pass without clarity. He shifts, pulling you closer until your noses almost touch, his breath warm on your lips. "I look at you, and I look at everything we've built here, and I am just so grateful. I appreciate you. Everything you do, the way you care for this space, the way you love me... it means the world to me."
The vulnerability in his voice is real. He has spent his life looking out for the world, carrying the expectations and needs of others, but in this bed, he allows himself to be held, to be safe and cared for. You press your forehead against his brow, the contact tight and reassuring.
"I love you," you tell him, the words simple and clean.
He chuckles, his arms wrapping around your torso, pulling your naked frame against his. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, his lips pressing a kiss against your pulse point, holding you in the quiet dawn until the sun rises high enough to turn the room gold.
"I'm really happy with you," you whisper into his neck, the words small, honest, and unprompted.
You can't see his face from where you are buried against his shoulder, but you feel the catch in his chest. When he shifts, tightening his hold, emotion wrecks his features—his eyes gleam, his lips parting in a smile. His heart swells. He knows what those words mean coming from you, and exactly where you learned them.
