[willsloverrr]

please do not spam!! (re-blogging and liking) <33

when you go to my blog, please do not scroll all the way down to my first post and spam (re-blogging and liking). it can get really annoying sometimes. my apologies if this came off as rude, that was NOT my intention! <33 it is okay to like and re-blog but just dont spam. tysm!!

[missposessive]

S ON MY CHEST!

sfw + nsfw. read at your own risk.

ᥫ᭡ thinking about superman clark revealing his identity to you for the first time ever. he nervously fidgeted with his hands, gauging your reaction to the news. there were parts of you that doubted his confession, but everything made sense. everything added up. you’d never seen him without his stupid glasses, he’d be unavailable at the most random times— he was telling the truth.

ᥫ᭡ over time, you’d learned to live with it. the dangers, but also the good. he saved lives for christ’s sake. you couldn’t exactly complain.

ᥫ᭡ but then you learned more about him, his powers, his capabilities.

ᥫ᭡ clark had always been a big man no doubt, but now that you knew the man you saw on tv countless of times was yours, you saw him in a different light. you were dating superman. let that damn sink in!

ᥫ᭡ you picked up on how his hands got clammy when you would watch movies with him, extra beads falling from his forehead when he looked at you more intently. almost like he could see through you.

ᥫ᭡ when he would fuck you, hands on your hips as he rutted his against you, his moans would pick up significantly occasionally when he made no difference to the pace or angle. you were blissfully unaware he was using his x-ray vision to see what he was doing to you. his cock moving in and out of you repeatedly at different paces all throughout the night. “gosh,” he breathed out, closing his eyes. he felt like a pervert. he was looking inside your body without you even knowing but god, what he couldn’t see outside..he saw every detail inside and it drove him over the edge.

ᥫ᭡ or when he let himself completely go, fucking you until you opened your eyes, finding yourself in the air. the first time you were startled, but over time, you realized he could barely help himself. he still apologizes to this day when it happens. “‘m so sorry,” “gosh, i just can’t stop..i’m sorry..”

ᥫ᭡ or when he’d slip your panties off, he’d noticed how your hips jerked involuntarily when the cold air hit your clit. he smiled at that, remembering that he didn’t have to keep your sex completely vanilla. (as if the floating and x-ray vision was normal). with a bit of practice, he’d managed to blow his freeze breath on your clit, giving you immense pleasure that ice cubes back when you were experimenting with yourself couldn’t. he’d have to hold your hips down, blowing between your folds for as long as you begged him before finally eating you out, propping your legs on his shoulders, your hands gripping his curls like there was no tomorrow. “jesus, clark..”

ᥫ᭡ you never thought of leaving clark, even when he revealed the truth to you. he saw the best in everyone and trusted you with that secret, and you kept it. plus, the powers he had? oh, that made the sex so much better.

[flwrlea]

˖ ꫂ᭪ ֗ tight fit ✿ ݁ 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗄𝖾𝗇𝗍 : 𝟣𝟪+ 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖻 .

🗒️ 𓈒 ‎ ‎ . ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ you shove your face into the fluffy pillows as fat dick! clark buries himself inside your tight pussy. he groans loudly from behind you, hooded eyes fixated on the way your pretty body swallowed him so easily.

“take me so good, angel… you’re perfect..” he praises, rough hands tracing over your sides and hips as he holds his hips to your ass for a minute to let you adjust. “squeezing my cock so hard.” he grunts at the way your walls flutter around his veiny length.

“oh, god..” you moan breathily, voice muffled from the silky pillowcase. your back was bowed so perfectly, ass on display for clark beautifully. and he was so thick, soaked cock stuffing you full. “i know it’s a lot, sweet girl..” he leans down to kiss at your shoulder blade, sliding inside impossibly further. “a-aah—” a whimper escapes your lips, knees aching against the mattress.

“can you handle it, baby?” his voice is softer, still pulled tight with the effort of restraint. “i—fuck, yes. i can.” you moan, brows furrowed as you shift under him.

then he’s dragging his heavy length out until only his flushed and leaky head was inside you. then he’s thrusting back into you, splitting your folds open to spread around his cock. your eyes roll back with pleasure as he builds his pace, fucking you nice and deep. “fuck! clark—”

“that’s it..take this dick, shit, baby.” he moans, muscles flexing as he squeezes your hips while rocking you backward onto his cock. “perfect little pussy..” his eyes never leave your soaking cunt, wet plaps echoing in the room. “gonna make me cum so fucking fast.”

the stretch burned so good, making your jaw go slack and eyes glossy with tears. your cunt tightened around him, swollen clit being slapped by his sticky balls. “please,” you moan weakly, subconsciously fucking yourself onto him and meeting his sharp thrusts. “i know, angel. needed this fat cock so bad, didn’t you?” he taunts, tickling fingers up your spine, and back down to your round ass, gripping the flesh tightly.

©flwrlea

[fear-is-truth]

clark, who perks up when you call his name the way dogs react to hearing the word walk. pleasantly startled, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed energy in a six-foot-something frame.

clark, who insists on carrying all the groceries. so now you just walk beside him, one arm looped through his, watching him play pack mule with unconcealed joy.

clark, who sits beside you at the fountain, tearing bread crusts into little hunks for the doves.

clark, who taps your knee when he spots a squirrel in the park. stops mid-step and whispers, “look, look,” with the same excitement of one pointing out a comet—never mind it’s just a rodent with a peanut.

clark, who sets his lockscreen to a selfie of you both. candid, taken mid-laugh. your head resting against his shoulder, his smile half-formed, cheek pressed into your temple. he carries a printed copy in his wallet, too.

clark, who texts you pictures he’s taken. things that remind him of you, or things he knows you’d like. a cat loaf in a patch of sunlight, a diner chalkboard advertising your favourite pie, or a silly meme he figured you’d laugh at.

clark, who always ends up the big spoon, no matter how you start. even if you fall asleep facing him, curled into his chest. by morning, you’ll wake up with his arm around your waist.

clark, who really knows how to cook. real food, too—not just bachelor chow reheated in a pan. i’m talking soups from scratch or stews that simmer for hours. he doesn’t let you lift a finger unless it’s to taste-test something off the spoon.

clark, who hums commercial jingles around the apartment while doing chores, such as lifting the entire couch (with you still on it) so he can vacuum underneath.

clark, who carries you bridal-style to bed.

clark, who packs little sandwiches in wax paper when you work late. your name written in block letters across the front.

clark, who leaves post-it notes behind cabinets, in the pockets of your jackets. blue ink scrawled sideways. “i love you,” “you looked really pretty this morning.”

[writing-mlm]

I saw you say you wanted to write for Clark some more could I request a ftm reader who has like a lot of piercings and one day he surprises Clark with like getting Superman jewelry for some of them

Like a belly button piercing or or or nipple piercings like I just recently got mine did and like it hurts but they look so so so so pretty

Clark discovers a new kink (or three)

Summary: Your piercer has some new jewelry and you learn some things about your boyfriend. Pairing: Clark Kent x Ftm!Reader Word count: 1.9k Tags/Warnings: piercings, nipple play, smut, t-dick and hole used to describe sexual parts, implied top surgery, fingering, squirting, creampie, whimpering Clark Kent, a little after care, soft-dom Clark A/n: Saw this request and couldn’t get it out my mind

You had a decent amount of piercings, you guess. You had your septum, the array of ears, eyebrow, angel bites, navel, and nipples. Lately, you’ve been considering others; a tongue ring, bridge, other lip piercings but you weren’t sure. At least until your friend had suggested you come with her to get her tattoo at your typical studio. You figured, why not. You had some spare cash, enough for a piercing and if you felt like it, you’d get one. 

The studio, a little hidden place tucked above a barber shop and a hair salon, had a couple of services. They did tattoos, waxing, piercings, and sold items for all three in the front of the shop. While your friend was getting herself situated, checking in for the appointment and paying while you scanned the piercing shelves, hoping something spoke to you. 

And boy did it. 

Under the new section sat a wide selection of hero-themed jewelry. It had all the major ones, including Superman. He seemed to be the more prevalent one, considering you were in his city. But in the vast assortment, you couldn’t help but be drawn towards the nipple bars and belly rings. 

“Whatchu lookin’ at?” Your friend asks, leaning against the glass as she looks down at the piercings. “Oh, score! They got Wonder Woman, might get the septum one.” The cashier drifts over and you get the three goods been eyeing while she decides not right now. Her septum isn’t healed enough for her to change out the jewelry. It wasn’t a lot, all things considered, less than the spare change you had in your pocket. 

The two of you moved to the tattoo booth, her tattoo artist and she began talking while you eyed the jewelry. 

Clark was probably still at work, he’d get home around five if there wasn’t someone who needed saving. And fuck, you can almost picture his reaction to seeing you wearing his logo. 

While they were still talking about placements, you quickly excused yourself to the bathroom to put them on. Half sure that this is safe because why wouldn’t a tattoo and piercing bathroom be sterile and safe but also half driven by the idea of a pent-up Clark. Sue you. 

— 

As expected, Clark got home exactly ten minutes after he clocked out. The front door was opening as you were lounging, looking for something to watch. 

“Hi, I’m home, sweetheart!” He calls before he can even see you. 

“Hey, baby! How was work?” The door closes and locks, he’s working on his shoes at the door. Shifting on the couch, you get rid of your shirt and stand up to meet him in the hallway. 

“Uh, good. I started working on an article about the number of lead pipes in the city, it’s been approved. What about you? How did Gen’s tattoo go?” His black oxfords get placed neatly on the shoe rack as you wait at the end of the hallway, leaning against the wall for him to look up. 

“Eh, good. She has another session tomorrow. It’s looking cool,” As he stands to his full height, his eyes fall on your face. He smiles at you, already getting his tie off. You’re a little upset he doesn’t look you over immediately but you’ll forgive him because he’s mid-step, about to say something when he finally notices. 

“Christ, is that—?” He’s in front of you faster than you can process, his hands on your hips as he looks at your nipples and then your navel. 

“Like them?” You ask, grinning. He looks at you through his eyelashes, licking his lips. 

“Like them?” He echoes, dragging his left hand up to your nipple and rolling his thumb over it. He’s breathing loudly, in through his nose and out through his mouth, his focus on the way your nipple hardens next to his symbol. Fuck, his symbol. “I love them,” He mutters while you hold his forearms, eyes half-lidded because he brings his right hand to do the same to your other nipple. It perks up just like the left one and soon enough, you moan a little at his actions. 

He groans before he picks you up, his hands now firmly planted on your ass. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you undo his tie, tossing it to the ground, hoping Krypto doesn’t destroy it if he ends up finding it. 

You’re on the bed soon after, the door shut and locked as if Krypton had grown thumbs and could open the door that way. Clark makes a point of turning the light on, slowly stalking to the bed as you lay there, your new jewelry shining in the light. 

“You’re driving me crazy,” He drags out, climbing onto the bed from the end. 

“Am I?” You tease, looking down at him, now propped up on your elbows. He groans a nod as he climbs on top of your legs, his hands planted firmly on either side of your thighs. Opening your legs, you watch as his eyes dart down, catching sight of your navel piercing again. It dangles, flipped over to the side without his symbol isn’t showing and that simply won’t do. 

He looks up at you as he flips it over, making sure you watch as his hand ghosts over the piercing and down to the waistband of your boxers. Clark ignores it completely, dragging his index and middle finger down until he reaches your slit. 

Once he does, he opens the flap on the boxers and grabs your t-dick, giving it slow strokes. “Fuck,” You whimper, your back arching a little as he does. Grabbing his head, you grip his hair and fall flat on your back. Carefully and without removing his hand, Clark climbs further up on you until he’s eye to eye with your nipples. You watch as he leans down, his tongue slowly dragging from his lips before they latch onto your nipple. 

His teeth graze over it, his canines catch in the metal bar enough that it tugs. The pain is that awfully good pain that you need to chase, pressing your chest closer to his face. His hand ghosts over your scars, reaching up to give your other nipple the same attention. 

“Clark,” You shudder. 

“Kal-El,” His voice is an almost whimper of a plea. “Fuck, call me Kal-El, please.” His eyes meet yours and you nod. You’ve heard his birth name countless times, it’s not typically something he wants you to call him. But you have, and usually always get the same reaction— save you’re not calling him while injured. 

“Kal-El,” You breathe as his lips return to your perky nipples. He groans, fisting the bed sheets, and humps the air aimlessly. “I need you, Kal-El,” 

“You have me,” He promises, detaching and going over to your other nipple. He gives it licks between his words. “My mind, my body, my soul, my future— my everything.” His eyes focus on his symbol, his family crest stuck on your body unless it was deliberately removed. His home and his hope, inside of you. 

“Fuck,” He groans and raises to his knees, his care for his shirt gone out the window as he literally rips it off, discarding the fabric to the floor. He does the same for his pants and boxers before he looks at you for approval. Chewing on your bottom lip, you nod and lift your hips, watching as he easily tears your boxers off as if they were paper. 

He leans down, slowly sliding his middle and ring finger inside of you, the rest of his palm covering your t-dick. Your thighs quiver at the feeling, clenching around his wrist as Clark keeps eye contact with you. 

“Kal—“ You gasp, feeling him work your insides. He nods, egging you on as he continues to finger you, his free hand working on pumping his already hard cock. As your chest heaves, his eyes switch back to your stomach, watching as the dangling charm bounces with each shaky breath you take. “Kal-el, please.” You manage.

He speeds up, his fingers quickly getting drenched and the room filling with wet, sloppy noises. “That feel good?” He asks and you nod wildly, your moans not letting you get a word out. 

“So good,” You clench around him, the same way you do when you’re about to cum and he slows down before pulling his fingers out from you. “No, please Kal-el,” Grabbing his wrist, you try to pull him back inside but he laughs, pulling his arms behind his back before leaning down and kissing you. Kissing him back, you grind down on him, trying to get that high back. 

Clark pulls away from the kiss, his lips dragging down your chin and neck while he keeps his eye contact. “Be patient, sweetheart,” He says while grabbing his dick, rubbing it up and down your slit before he slips the tip inside. With his free hand, he presses your stomach to the bed, keeping you in place as you whine. He has the audacity to laugh at you, slipping the tip in and out just to see you try and chase him. 

“You’re being so mean,” You frown. “Please, baby.” Deliberately, you run your hands up your chest, flicking the metal bar that makes the S symbols on the end bounce. When his eyes zero in on the bar, you know you’ve gotten him and grind down again. This time, he slips past the tip and you let out a low moan, your eyes fluttering closed. Slowly, Clark rolls his hips, watching as he disappears inside of you, watching how your legs move and twitch with each slow, hard thrust. 

It doesn’t last long though, as his eyes return to your face and he starts to pick up his pace. He leans down, kissing and sucking along your neck while you struggle to find a grip with the new pacing. Clark’s not faring any better, he’s a whimpering mess in your ear. Pathetic noises that leave him are like music to your ears. 

You’re holding onto the headboard with one hand, the other is scratching at his back as he pounds into you. “You feel so good,” He slurs into your neck. “Taking all of me, like a good boy.” Your back arches up in the air as you struggle to make coherent sentences, tears budding in the corner of your eyes. 

When you tighten around him, he looks at you, his wet eyelashes clumping together in a way that makes your toes curl and- for the first time- you squirt. He looks down, seeing his pelvis wet from it, and it rolls off of him and onto the bed. The feeling, the sounds, and the sight make Clark moan loudly, spilling into you. Despite it, he keeps himself inside of you, his dick slowly getting soft as his cum slowly seeps out. 

He pants, rising up to his knees. His dick pulls out from you with a small pop and you twitch, staring at the ceiling. “Are you okay, baby?” He hurriedly asks, scooping you up. Blinking, you lick your lips before looking at him. 

“Holy shit,” You chuckle, messing with his curls. “I should’ve gotten those sooner.” He snorts and picks you up properly, carrying you into the bathroom where he prepares a nice bath after cleaning you up. 

— Two days later, Clark doesn’t know how to react when you show off your new tongue piercing. His symbol lay flat on top of it. All he knows is that this is going to be a long, long, six weeks.

[delulu-soul]

OMG THIS IS SO FUNNY I LOVE THIS SHIT😭😭😭

The next day:

I literally love her stop

[willsloverrr]

HELL YEAH!!

[introvertedelf]

Enzo (Dmitri Antonov) Kinks Headcannon

Warning(s): degrading, praise, spanking, manhandling, breeding kink, rough sex, dirty talk, daddy kink, edging, filth.

To begin with, this man is horny. He doesn’t exactly get much privacy as a prison guard in the motherland. He has so much pent up sexual energy, so when he fucks, he fucks for hours. Has the stamina of a god.

He’s really, really good at pleasuring a woman. He knows just how to pinch your nipples, soothing the sting with his tongue. He knows just how to find your clit, flicking it with his warm tongue while he pounds your cunt with his long and thick fingers.

Dirty talk? King of dirty talk. Plus, he says a lot of things in Russian. You can bet that he teaches you how to say dirty things in Russian when he has you in his grasp. Get a phrase right? He’ll make you see stars.

He’s a double edged sword in the sense that he’ll make you feel like a dirty slut one moment, and a princess the next. He’ll say things like “yeah? You like that? You were made to take this dick, you dirty fucking slut. Look at you creaming on my cock.” Then he’ll say “what a good girl you are for me, princess. You take me so well. Look how good you are, that’s it. Take daddy’s cock.”

Oh yeah, daddy kink. He already has an age gap with you, and this man knows he radiates DILF™️ material. The first time you call him daddy, he grabs your throat and spits on your tongue, saying “swallow for daddy, slut.”

He definitely has a bit of an impact kink. He’s been taught how to punish the naughty, so why wouldn’t he? If you’ve been bad, he will absolutely bend you over his knee. He’ll knead your ass with his hand before administering a set of hard spanks. He loves how red you get.

A combined kink of Dmitri’s is edging and impact play. He loves to pull up a chair between your spread legs when you’re on the bed. He’ll edge you, but in a different way. He’ll grab his belt and begin tapping the leather on your clit. When you get close, he’ll slap your little bundle of nerves as a warning. You never would have believed getting your clit spanked with a belt could ever make you cum, and you were right. It made you squirt.

Though he doesn’t want anymore children, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love the idea of claiming you. The ultimate way to do this is to cum inside of you. “I’m gonna make you mine, printsessa. I’m gonna explode inside that pretty cunt. You’re going to keep it inside of you, right?” He loves to do this in doggy style, especially. It just makes him feel so dirty. He fucks you especially rough like this, grabbing your hips where they’re sensitive and pushing inside of you as deep as he’ll go as he ejaculates all that hot seed into you womb.

Overall, he loves to manhandle you. He’s a very strong man, and he loves to throw you around. One of his favourite things is when you tell him it’s ‘too much’, only for him to put you in a mating press, his weight on top of you as he just fucks you harder. Of course you two have a safe word, but you both know you’ll never use it.

Not a kink, but aftercare is something Dmitri is skilled at, just as much as the art of sex. I’m talking drawing you a bubble bath, gently scrubbing off the sweat and cum from your previous activities. He loves most when he wraps you two up in a comforter, holding you tightly against him as he presses kisses you your neck, whispering how much he loves you.

[murdrdocs]

eyes on fire | d.antonov

description: after days of being missing, dmitri returns home, back to your arms and your embrace.

includes: SMUT 16+,angst, fluff, creampie, fingering, cunnulingus, they’re married, unprotected sex, crying during sex (but in a good way), cervix hitting, domestic bliss, probably spelling mistakes it’s late

a/n: dmitri deserves everything and i stand by that. title from ’eyes on fire’ by new foundation. probably good to listen to while reading but you do you .

word count: 1.9k+

You think you are hallucinating.

You have not gotten much sleep lately. Nor food, nor human interaction. You talk to Mikail, take him to school, and come back home to worry yourself numb. It’s all taken a toll on your body, and your mind.

Which is why you fully believe that you are hallucinating. But then a hand reaches out to you and touches your face. It is cold, so very cold, but it is his touch. It is Dmitri. Standing across from you, face sunken and bruised, teeth yellow and lips cracked. But it is still Dmitri.

He tells you everything in the kitchen. The place you two spent most of your time, apart from the bedroom and living room. You have a fire going in the fireplace here and in the living room. You are already warmed enough, but you strip down to just a tank and pants if it means that Dmitri can get sufficient warmth.

Tears come to your eyes as he details the sufferings he went through. He tells you about his American friend, and the other Americans that rescued him. He tells you about how Yuri betrayed him, and you briefly feel rage before you remember that none of it matters now.

Because here is Dmitri, sitting across from you on the floor in front of a raging fire.

He lets you clean him up in the bathroom. He asks where Mikhail is and you tell him that he is with a friend for the day and he will be home tonight. You tell him about the soup slowly cooking on the stove as your fingers scrub at his blonde hair. You hold back tears as you clean up his wounds, wiping and bandaging through sniffles and blurry eyes.

Dmitri kisses you and holds you when you break down, one hand thrown over his bruised back while the other holds a bloody cloth.

When he is cleaned up, and your face is as dry as it will get, he sits in the living room while you move around the kitchen. Preparing tea and baking bread that has already risen.

When you are done silently shedding tears in the kitchen, you join Dmitri on the couch. You both hold cups of tea, but only the contents of his decrease, while yours get cold.

When he finishes his, and you place your full cup on the coffee table, Dmitri looks over at you. His blue eyes shine, and his mustache twitches as he smiles at you.

“How much longer until Mikhail is expected?”

You glance at the clock on the wall, thinking for a second before you find Dmitri’s eyes again. “A few more hours.”

“And the bread?” He asks.

“A few more hours as well.”

His smile widens and you get that familiar fluttery feeling in your chest.

You throw your leg over both of Dmitri’s, straddling him and hovering over his lap. His hands find your hips and pull you down, setting you directly over his cock. Your flimsy pants can feel him through the fabric, and you are so needy and desperate that your jaw is already slack.

Your shaky hands hold Dmitri’s face between them as your lips find his, the metal on your ring finger cold against his cheek.

Your lips join each other in a well rehearsed dance, a type of coordination that can only come from knowing each other for years.

When you pull away, you are desperately kissing his neck, lips trying to touch as much of his flesh as you can, scared that he will disappear again.

“What do you want, Dmitri?” You manage to ask through gasps and kisses. “Whatever you want, I’ll give you.”

You level yourself out, staring at your husband head on with your noses almost touching from the close proximity. His hands grasp at your hips and waist as he thinks, his chest heaving up and down.

“You. I just want you.”

You are lifted up in a rush, legs wrapping around Dmitri’s waist as he carries you to your bedroom. He doesn’t drop you on the bed. Instead, he holds you secure as he presses a knee into the mattress, moving the two of you up until you are laying in the center of the piece of furniture.

When you are positioned, he pulls back from you just to sit there before you, blue eyes scanning your frame. Devouring you.

Your legs are bent and spread, arms sprawled out above your head. In an anxious tick, your tongue darts out to lick your lips and Dmitri mimics the action. You want to ask him what he is going to do. But you hold back and instead sit silently, patiently. Waiting.

When Dmitri does move, he is pulling the simple white tee over his head. You avoid looking at his chest in fear that you’ll see the scars and cry again. Instead, you just look at him.

You follow his gaze and movements, until your eyes land on your pants. Your hips lift to make it easier for Dmitri to shimmy your bottoms down until you are bare in front of him, no layer of panties to remove.

Dmitri does not waste time marveling at the view. The patience that you had always known him to have has been lost for the moment. Not that you mind.

You rise onto your elbows to watch your husband lower himself. His eyes hold yours as his mouth comes to your cunt, lips puckering to place a kiss over your clit. Your breath hitches in your throat from the action, and it seems to knock out of your body completely when Dmitri’s tongue comes in contact with the bundle of nerves.

He gets to work. Licking and kissing and sucking along your cunt, delivering special attention to your clit. It’s almost embarrassing with how quick you react, how quick your abdomen begins to tighten.

When his middle finger pokes past your entrance, your hand reaches down to wrap around his wrist. He halts, disconnecting from your clit to stare up at you. Your eyes blink open and you both sit still for a moment or two, but then he begins to move his wrist again and you let go.

“Relax,” He coos. It takes you longer than you liked to do so, but when you do, your muscles tighten. Your arms give out and you lay flat against the bed, back arching, hips moving away from Dmitri only to come back to him again. He speeds up, adding a second finger, his ring finger, to loosen you up all while he sucks and licks around your clit.

One of your hands reach down to tangle in Dmitri’s hair, pulling him closer until his nose is pressed into the groomed hair along your groin. He revels in the small act of authority, moaning around your clit, making you feel the vibrations just when you needed them most.

You come suddenly and with a loud cry, face scrunched up in pleasure as tears prickle behind closed eyes. You want to hold them back, but when you open your eyes to see your lover above you, they spill out on their own.

He lets you cry. Kissing your cheeks and forehead and nose and lips while he lifts your shirt over your head. He kisses your collarbones and shoulders and the tops of your boobs as he unclips your bra and throws it off to the side of the bed.

Your eyes are blurred again while he kisses down the center of your chest, stopping to delicately kiss each of your hardened, and slightly pained, nipples. But when he gets down to your fluttery belly, and kisses your navel, you see him clearly. His eyes staring up at you, cheeks flush, lips glistening and shining pink.

There’s so much behind those eyes. Pain, hurt, worry, frustration, anger, betrayal, acceptance, hope, happiness.

Love.

You pull him up into a kiss, trying to convey everything you cannot say and everything you feel through your lips. Dmitri gets the memo, he always does and you know it.

His pants and boxers were long gone and your legs spread wider as you welcomed him into you. You hook one leg over his back as he begins to rock into you. The curve of his cock pressing into you perfectly, molded into your canal in a snug fit. Almost as if you two were made for each other.

You hold him close to you, arms around his shoulders, heel of your foot pressing him into you. There’s barely enough room for him to move but that’s okay. You would be fulfilled with Dmitri just sitting inside of you, warm and reassuring.

He finds room to move anyway.

Deep thrusts that softly rock you up the bed each time. Each time, he seems to go deeper and deeper. One or two thrusts bringing the tip of his head to your sensitive cervix. Your winces turn into moans when Dmitri presses his lips over yours, soothing you.

You begin to breathe in tune, shallow, sharp and short breaths coming from chapped lips. Your eyes never leave each other. He watches the way your eyebrows furrow. The way your lips part in soft moans, tongue darting out to wet them and then your teeth trapping your bottom lip behind them.

You watch him watch you. The way his eyes scan your face. The way he subconsciously mimics your moans, silently. The way his lips part when he softly groans.

Just as Dmitri always likes it, you come undone first. One of his hands slips in the tight space between your bodies to find your clit, rubbing tight circles with the pads of two digits. You try to hold out, wanting to come undone in time with him like some cliche.

But Dmitri always gets what he desires and when he tells you to come, you do. Your legs twitch, muscles clenching and unclenching everywhere across your body.

It’s that very action that has Dmitri close. Your walls fluttering around his dick.

You were stuttering out words, barely making any sense and unaware of your actions. “I–” Your head is thrown back. “I lov–”

He nods. “I know, darling. And I you.”

His hips stutter for a second and he grunts behind clenched teeth before he recomposes himself.

“Where do you want it?” He asks, voice low and gravely. Hoarse.

“In me.” Your words are clear. “I want you to come in me. Please.”

It’s barely three thrusts later when Dmitri’s hips slam into yours one final time. You feel his cock twitch inside of you and your walls clench, constricting around him and trapping him inside of you.

His come is hot inside of you, sputtering out in thick ropes that cause you to twitch each time. When he finishes, it takes him a while to pull out. Briefly, you think about telling him to stay just like this, body weight atop of you and cock stuffed inside of your cunt.

But you are so tired that you can barely think of anything.

By the time you recover, Dmitri has already cleaned both of you up and re-dressed you in your shirt and pants, bra foregone. He holds you against his chest, chin resting atop your head as you mold against his frame.

“He missed you.”

Dmitri hums, prompting you to clarify.

“Mikhail. He misses you.” His heart skips a beat.

“Does he?”

You nod. “He was miserable without you. We both were.”

Dmitri does not respond and you do not take offense to it. In fact, you feel the exact opposite.

You knew he was overwhelmed and processing the information.

That is okay. Dmitri could take all the time he needed to process.

Both of you could. Because no matter what, he was home.

Dmitri was home and your family was whole again.

[willsloverrr]

OOOOUUUUU THIS IS FIRE BRO

[hearteyes-wheeler]

Noah saying he filmed the most scenes with finn and vol1 barely having any byler scenes only means one thing - vol2/finale is going to be filled to the fucking brim with byler.

[mlchaelwheeler]

i'm honestly not sure i'll ever be over this image. this is mike's "oh" moment i'm sure of it

[willsloverrr]

my irls dropped me earlier im gonna fuckinf cry ☹️☹️

[xsora91]

Hug?

[willsloverrr]

SO REALLLL

[willsloverrr]

bro is anyone elses twt down rn cuz mine is and its ANNOYING

[willsloverrr]

guys am i the only one that wants tom wlaschiha to collab w/ calvin klein…….. 😭😭

[willsloverrr]

guys what do we think this man would listen to?

[willsloverrr]

guys im so sick someone pls manifest i get better 😞🥀

[willsloverrr]

OMFG TOM WLASCHIHA THE MAN YOU ARE.